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#at least my family is the devil you know
brionysea · 1 year
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kind of mike wheeler coded
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queer-ecopunk · 11 months
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So, I'm trans. And several years ago, I was at my great grandfather's funeral. 17, newly on T, barely out to anyone other than my close friends and family. And I'm standing there at the refreshment's table, surrounded by strangers and members of my family's church, when George walks up to me.
This man is ancient, bent like a finger and frail. Tufts of white hair surround his wrinkled face. Like always, he's wearing thick glasses, massive hearing aids, and his veteran's hat. George was my first introduction to the concept of war, when he told me as a child why he was missing two fingers on his hand. He's been a fixture at church since I can remember. I've only ever seen him at there or in uniform at parades, the rest of his time spent in a nursing home somewhere. He picks up a deviled egg and says, in his quiet voice,
"You know, before your grandfather died, he told me that now he had 3 grandsons."
I'm frozen in place. I don't know what to say to that, if I should say anything at all. This is not a conversation I expected to have, especially not with this man. But he continues.
"I didn't know what he meant! So he explained it to me."
And I can imagine it. My great grandfather, uninformed and opinionated but supportive, explaining to his friend the news he barely understood himself over after-service coffee and cookies. His eldest grandchild was now a boy.
"And, you know, I didn't know what to think."
Here, George looks me up and down. This 90-something year old war veteran, who knew me mostly as the little girl playing in the church kitchen with his wife, processing what my great grandfather had really meant. It feels like a long pause, even thought it probably passed in a second.
"But you look good. So, eh!"
And then he smiled, shrugged, and walked away without another word. If I was fine, if I was happier, then that's all that mattered.
George passed away this week, at the age of 99. This memory has been bouncing around in my head for a while, but I wasn't sure if or how I should share it. It was a conversation that meant very little, but also meant the world. It was scary, and funny, and the moment when I realized that sometimes the people you least expect will accept you. Sometimes, even if they don't fully understand, even if they barely know you, someone will choose to support you. And that will always matter.
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crossbackpoke-check · 11 months
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i’m not sure if you’ve heard yet but nico’s tattoo is all of his family members’ astrological signs smushed together which is so… i’m obsessed
NO I HAD NOT HEARD!!!!! (partially because tumblr decided i was not to see people’s asks??)
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oh my god. oh my god. that is so unbelievably. actually i take it back it is incredibly believable and i love that for him
#what is this fucking update. guys i hate it here i hate the stupid little circle buttons i don’t Like It they’re the wrong shape#and WHY are you eating all my asks!!! have you been eating them!!! i don’t know when this is from i’m so sorry!!#anyway.#hi anon. i love you. i love when i ask questions and then you guys come to my inbox and tell me things this is my favorite way to learn#(yell into the void and the void is like uhhhh oh yeah bud we got you)#the way in which i full mouth open BEYONCÉ???? meme’d myself. i wanted to function for the next ??? hours and now i will NOT oh my god#liv in the replies#guys i don’t even have an appropriate rxn meme for this. what can i do when i can’t even use my brain approved ask format (comment & meme)#DID I POST THE YOJ THINK I’M SMALL POST OR IS IT STILL IN MY DRAFTS#i know my thirst tags about nico’s sister from like. two years ago are still in my drafts sorry but i love the way nico is with his family#nice to see good family dynamics!!! they all seem like really talented and lovely people!!! i’m going to throw away the part of my brain#that just rapid fire went ‘nico’s mom is an olympian right she’s an olympic swimmer ellen’s an olympian right or at least high level player#where’s my nico’s mom & ellen narratives y’all are sleeping on that’ NO ONE IS SLEEPING ON IT you’re just vibrating at a nonsense frequency#aka i will be dragged kicking & screaming into nicojack & in the process will be getting my grubby little hands on any adjacent narratives#moral of the story: thank u i love you i will use this information for evil (think about it & hurt my own feelings)#it is Nico Hour on the blog now. we will be releasing a bunch of nico posts from my drafts in honor of this ask#[also in honor of me having the devs game on while i work]#nico hischier#new jersey devils
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writing-fanics · 8 months
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don’t mess with the devil
Part ii
Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
[warning: angst: mentions of death: death?]
Your movements became sluggish. The wound on your side bleeding more and more with each movement, and swing of your angelic weapon. “Can’t even hold a weapon.” Adam mocked, as she glared at him. Already tired and she looked down at her wound. “Who would’ve thought a fucking human, making a deal with the devil.”
“Was it for dick? It was for dick wasn’t it?” Adam laughed, and mocked. You let out a battle cry flying towards him.
You screamed in pain, as the yellow light shot right through your wing. Your wings started going weak, as you struggled to keep up with Adam’s attacks. He laughed and cackled, taking enjoyment in your struggle.
“Where’s your little boyfriend huh?” He mocked, as more and more yellow shots kept hitting your body. Until you could barely keep your body up, “awe, is he not coming to scared to show his fa-”a fist punched, Adam in the face. Causing him to let go of your chin, but you didn’t fall instead.
A pair of familiar arms held you, “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t be here sooner,” said Lucifer, as he nuzzled his head against his partner. Then lifted his head and glared at Adam, eyes fuming with rage.
“Sorry, for being so stubborn.” You mumbled, knowing this was the reason he didn’t want you to fight. Even though, he gave you some of his powers. You were still a human. He nuzzled, his head against yours once more. “It’s okay,” He said, as he landed on the rooftop.
He handed you off to Charlie, his daughter taking your injured body into her arms. She looked down at you worriedly, as you took shallow breaths. Your face battered cuts and bruises covered your face, and your right eye was swollen. Landing on the rooftop, walking towards Adam.
“Huh? Okay? Seriously?” Adam panted, as he stood up slowly. “How many of you freaks do I have to fight?!” He shouted, glaring at them.
Lucifer rolled up his sleeves, as he walked towards Adam. “Oh, I’m the only one that matters.” said Lucifer, as he looked up at Adam angrily.
“See, you messed with my daughter and my partner.” his eyes burning with rage. “and now I’m toning to fuck you!” he shouted, and everyone went silent as they stared at him dumbfounded.
Charlie leaned over, “It’s fuck you up dad?” Charlie whispered, and he looked confused as he raised his eyebrow, “Wait what did I say?” He said, and then Adam flew towards him sending them both into a wall. But Lucifer transformed into a white snake.
You could barely keep your eyes open, as the pain became worse. You didn’t know how much blood you were losing, but knew it was a lot. You were just a mere human, a human who fell in love with the king of hell. Him inevitably giving you some of his power in an act of love.
Your memories of how you ended up in Hell, a blur. You still figuring out a way to at least see your family again. But now that seemed to be in vain. You wondered if this was how it was going to end for you. You wondered, what would happen to you a human dying in hell?
Would you be dead forever no second life? Or would you just enter purgatory?
“So, this is what you’ve been up to since Eden?” said Lucifer, taunting him.
“Gotta say, you really let yourself go buddy.” He said, as he taunted Adam.
Adam laughs, as he grabbed Lucifer by the tail. “You judgin’ me?” He shouted angrily, as he tried to throw him. But he transformed again, this time into a duck. “You’re the most hated being in all of creation.” Adam shouted, angrily looking at him.
“Well, your first wife didn’t seem to hate what I had to offer.” said Lucifer, as he made a V shape with his fingers and dragged it downward from his mouth.
“or the second.” He said looking Adam straight in the face, “Bow-chicka-wow-wow.” He said, as he backed away making a thrusting motion with his hips. Adam lunched at him, and Lucifer transformed into a horse. Kicking him around, “I’ll fuckin’ end you!!” Adam shouted.
Your vision started to blur, as you leaned your head against the wall You didn’t want to die not like this, not without seeing your parents again. Wondering if they’re worried about their missing child, who they haven’t seen in almost a year.
You’ve been stuck in Hell for that long. Lucifer and You, still figuring out a way to get you back. But you always promised that you’d stay in Hell with him, and visit your friends and family once in a while.
Maybe this was to be your fate, dying in Hell. Where would your soul go? You couldn’t imagine the heartbreak your death would bring to both, Charlie and Lucifer. You couldn’t bear the thought of seeing them cry, you’ve grown to love them so much. Seeing Charlie as a child of your own.
Lucifer your partner. The best thing to ever come out of being trapped in Hell. He was so kind and caring, when he found out about your situation. Wanting to help you anyway he could, which led him to falling in love. How his heart swelled whenever you smiled at him, turning his cheeks red.
How seeing you cry made his heartache, knowing you missed your family and friends back on earth. How when that ‘Red Bastard’ at the Hazbin Hotel, took your hand and kissed him while staring mockingly at Lucifer. Boiled his blood.
A smiled grew across your lips, as you grew tired. You were too tired to even notice the beam of light, heading straight towards the hotel. Towards you. Everything went dark.
Y/n?
Y/n?
Y/n!
who’s calling my name?
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moonlight-prose · 1 month
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RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME
➛ 01. IN DREAMS WE REST
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a/n: i've been stressed about this fic probably more than any other i've ever written. not because it's logan per se, but because wade wilson makes me want to rip my hair out. i love that bastard, but writing him feels like pulling teeth. i'm in love with this concept solely for the angst, so if you see more throughout and wonder if they will ever get a happy ending, please know i'm dead inside. enjoy!
summary: stuck in another universe and unsure of where he stands, logan expects things to even out as they always did. but when you cross his path and you have no idea who he is, he's in for a rude awakening.
word count: 5.9k+
pairing: logan howlett x f!reader
warnings: not explicit, wade wilson breaking the fourth wall, angst, cussing so much cussing, alcohol consumption, grief, pain, a broken man pretending he's not broken, chance encounters, awkward conversations, hope.
NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST
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He can hear it when he sleeps.
Their screams.
The constant ring of agony that chimes out like a bell, an alarm he never set for himself. A joke once told to him in the midst of World War II, as bullets flew by him and soldiers lost their lives each second of each day. There's no escape from hell. No running from the devil that nipped at his heels the faster he went, the longer he tried to navigate a way free.
There's no escape from the memories that ate away in his mind. Multitudes of them, of the faces he once called family, the people he used to love. They were his punishment. The boulder he continued to roll up the hill, day after day after day. Until eventually...he was crushed by his own self-hatred.
"Logan." The voice whispered long enough for him to grasp who it might be, yet never louder than a mere breath of air.
He clung to it some days. Sunk his claws into what little of his past remained good and allowed it to fill him with some amount of peace. At least then he'd be able to bear this weight, this grief he could never quite name.
Something light brushed across his cheek. Tickling the skin enough to send a flare of irritation down his spine, but the dreams held him in their grasp. What came next never surprised him. He expected it at this point—longed for it. The distant pain of losing what once made him whole; the entirety of his life now defined by one single moment he could never change.
"He sleeps so sweetly. I just want to curl up in his arms and have him read me bedtime stories."
"He's not gonna like that when he wakes up."
"Zip it Al. If I wanted an opinion, I'd go see a Hollywood therapist."
A scoff echoed in the background. "No therapist wants you on their couch."
"Not true. I hear Ryan Reynolds has a great one."
"Who?"
"Not the point." The feather dusted across Logan's face again, soft enough to keep him asleep yet annoying enough to bring a smile to Wade's face. "I wonder if he's dreaming about killing bad guys. They say it's good for the soul."
"Who the fuck is they?"
Wade laughed. "Oh you know. Them. The readers. And boy howdy do they love their blood."
Every day he was forced to listen to Wade's voice became another day Logan dragged his claw through a tally mark of his sanity. "Do you ever shut the fuck up," he growled, gripping Wade's wrist until he heard the satisfying crack of bones.
"Only when I swallow."
"I'll tear your fuckin' arm off."
The smile on Wade’s face only added another tally. "Nice kitty. No need for the claws."
Anger washed across his skin in a familiar wave as he released Wade's arm, watching it go limp. Trying to kill the unkillable walking irritation was like trying to swat a fly that never quite died. It still buzzed incessantly. Until eventually madness was the only viable option of dealing with it. In his case, he seemed to be driving head on with no brakes.
Logan wasn't sure he possessed enough sanity left within him to keep dealing with this. Sleeping on the couch didn't help the way his body never rested; always stuck in that permanent fighting mode. He'd give anything to find some peace. A small sliver of it carved off the past that continued to call him—that begged him to come back and try again.
Swinging his legs off the couch, he planted a swift kick to Wade's chest that sent him across the floor. The lack of caffeine in his system left everything hazy and half coherent. If he focused he might have caught the keys thrown at him, but being exhausted and sober didn't make for a good combination with him. An empty whiskey bottle lay discarded on the floor from last night; the memories of how he passed out barely tinged on the edge of his mind.
He could recall stabbing Wade in the leg.
Nothing beyond that.
Dried blood—now an ugly brown—stained his white shirt. He nearly stripped himself of it, prepared to throw it in with whoever was washing next, but his flannel being chucked at his head caught him off guard.
"Fuck off," he snapped, stumbling to the kitchen.
Wade sighed, following him. "Get dressed, peanut. We have to go do human things today."
"Human–”
"Food," Al retorted. "We're out."
Even in a new universe, he couldn't see himself acting normal. For so long he did what had to in order to survive. Yet now...he wasn't so sure. Accompanying Wade Wilson in order to complete household chores left a bad taste in his mouth. But the thought of fresh coffee and an unopened bottle of whiskey sounded like sweet silver bells in his head.
With reluctance, he buttoned up half of the flannel before he became annoyed with the small size of the holes punched into the fabric. There was only so much he could do with the life he had now. And sometimes shit really sucked.
"Don't scratch my fucking car," Al pointed her words towards Wade, thankfully ignoring Logan's existence for a brief moment.
"Is it safe for her to own a car?"
The door shut behind him with a bang, echoing down the vacant hallway. He was surprised people actually lived here given Wade's antics. They could hear the loud mouthed fucker across the street—if the angry notes in the mail were anything to go by. He didn't bother asking if he should be concerned with any of it. Not when he had no say in how the house was run. And choosing to insert himself where he wasn’t needed, rarely went well for him.
"God no. But I give her the benefit of the doubt. She hasn't killed anyone. Yet."
He yanked the keys out of Wade's hand. "Yeah well I don't trust you either Bub."
The car didn't leave room for his legs as he squeezed into the driver's side. His body practically folded in half as he turned it over—the rumble of the engine rattling against metal. How Blind Al managed to pay for this vehicle went beyond even Wade's knowledge, and in all honesty…he was too fucking scared to ask.
Too much seemed to be happening for him to ever catch up. While this Earth felt similar to his, small things were different. And when they began to add up...he began to wonder if he was drowning.
"Turn left to merge onto the asscrack of traffic."
He barely heard the directions as he drove, his mind drifting the further they went. Part of him sensed the grief from earlier begin to claw up the back of his throat. It begged him to fall, to be swallowed whole by the darkness he'd been stuck in before. And he nearly gave in; could feel his body shift into its constant mode of fight or flight.
The steering wheel cracked under his white knuckled grip as Wade's voice became an afterthought to the war he fought in his mind. Terror trapped itself in his throat and he slammed his foot on the brakes a foot away from a parking spot in retaliation. The car lurched forward, his claws descended. A snarl rumbled in his chest the longer he sat there thinking.
"Woah..." For the first time in days, Wade fell silent. "You alright?"
Logan ripped himself free, shoving his body out of the car before he even threw it in park. He gulped in breath after breath and did his best to wait for this fucking feeling to leave his system. The nightmares only came as he slept. A constant familiar horror show after two centuries.
Yet now he was left like this. Leaned up against a car, his eyes closed shut, and heart racing.
All because he couldn't do his fucking job.
"Logan–"
He snapped, shoving past Wade and his pity that choked him with a vengeance. He didn't deserve anyone's pity. He didn't want it. But people couldn't help but hand it over unconsciously. As if they could see the layers of broken pieces beneath his false expression of strength. Logan never pretended to be okay. Why bother with something people could see right through?
He merely wanted others to ignore he was there. Walk past him, look through him, do whatever it took to pretend that him and all his tragedies weren't standing before them. Because one day he would die and fuck how he couldn't wait for that time to come.
A small hole in the wall dive bar sat in the corner of the shopping center. He barely caught sight of it. But the unmistakable scent of alcohol poured out the door as someone stumbled out—their eyes squeezed shut against the harsh brightness of the sun. He could understand them in a way.
His world didn't have sunlight this bright. Or perhaps he never noticed it ‘til now.
Maybe his body wasn't acclimated yet; unsure of what the fuck was still happening. Everything seemed to be turned up to eleven for him, yet no off switch existed.
The dark hazy glow of the interior sent a wave of calm through him as the door swung shut with a soft thud. Four people sat scattered around the place and a bartender with white and graying hair stood cleaning a glass so foggy it was probably better to throw it out. He found himself letting out a breath that'd been trapped in his chest since that morning. Finally some peace before he had to listen to Wade yap about bullshit he didn't in fact give a shit about.
"What'll you have?" the old man asked, his face screwing up in a wince as he limped towards Logan's spot at the end of the bar.
A quick glance down let him see the brace wrapped around the man's knee. "Whiskey on the rocks."
He nodded, slowly heading towards the center of the wall—a lonesome half empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the counter. Logan shifted, taking the center seat directly behind the man.
"I can't say I've seen you around before son."
He grinned, his finger tracing a random carving that'd been placed in the wood. "I just moved here. Living with a coworker."
"Coworker huh?"
The word didn't sound right to Logan, but he couldn't exactly call Wade his friend. Although they were more than people who fought together, more than men who shared blood during the same battle. That was the thing about Logan though. He'd never be able to put a label on something like that. To him...things weren't one or the other as much as he wanted to pretend they were. There was nuance to his life.
Complications which made living that much harder.
The man turned, surprised to see Logan so close, but didn't make note of it. Logan could see the gratitude in the way his drink was slid carefully to him. The small silent thank you in the bowl of pretzels placed beside it.
"You look lost."
Logan grunted, biting into the salty and dry snack. "Do I?"
"More than some of the others that come around here."
"And who comes around here?"
The man laughed. "No one as of late. You're the first young man I've seen in a while walk through those doors."
He bit back his laugh at the word young. The stories he could tell would leave the man baffled. About wars that no living person had witnessed. About when the world was far different than today—when mutants were freaks of nature and humans were far less forgiving. He could list it all and then some.
But whether or not someone would listen was another thing entirely.
"This place that old?" he inquired, sipping on the amber liquid with a contented sigh.
"Oh you bet." A weary laugh filled the space. "I bought this place in the sixties. When my wife was still my girlfriend. She almost left me because of it."
Logan huffed, his lips curling slightly. "She wasn't a fan?"
The man shook his head, tossing a cloth over his shoulder. "Still isn't. Well she...wasn't." He pressed his thumb to the worn gold band on his left hand. "When she was alive she used to host a book night. Helped bring in the men's wives. Kept them outta trouble."
"Book night huh?"
"She loved to read."
Before he could down the final sips of his drink it was topped off. Logan nodded his head in thanks, his thumb digging into the thumbprint shape of the glass. If he thought about it hard enough, he could almost see himself coming here every night. He pictured a life far different than his own, a past where he might have been happy. With someone who might have even made him smile.
"I'm not much of a reader," he replied, his voice hoarse and eyes fixed on the ice that floated to the surface.
"Ah me too," the man laughed. "I just liked seeing her smile."
A soft remark was on the tip of his tongue before an entirely new image began to take shape. The face of someone lost. Of a smile he'd known better than his own. Hands that once held his face with the tenderness of a lover—a voice that sent the hair rising on the back of his neck. He could see it as clear as he did the man.
You in all your beauty. Lost to a past he could no longer rectify.
He swallowed thickly, beating back every emotion that crawled under his skin. "What's your name?"
"Travis."
Raising his glass, he tipped it towards the man with a tight grin. "Logan." The alcohol went down with a quick and biting burn. A feeling he'd grown familiar with. One he counted on.
"Nice to meet you Logan."
"Yeah you too."
He dug out some cash and tossed it on the bar as he stood with a slight grunt. He may heal quickly but the ache in his bones still existed. As if something resisted against how his body moved with each slow shift.
Fighting meant he could ignore it.
Existing is what made it worse.
The sun practically burned his eyes when he stepped out, the heat of the day encompassing his whole body quicker than he would have liked. For some unknown fucking reason, summer here felt worse than on his Earth. Then again the alcohol didn't help. He stood in the shade of the building next to the bar, searching the parking lot for any sign of Wade.
Going into the store wasn't an option and as much as he wanted to leave the annoyance behind, he didn't want to feel like a piece of shit. That is...even more than he already did.
"Fuck," he hissed, leaning against the brick wall. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."
One option would be taking a walk to work off the energy that ran through his veins. At least then he'd be able to sleep at night. And the temptation almost worked. If it weren't for the shop doors that opened to his left, effectively distracting him from the chance of leaving. He could have ignored the person, probably should have given everything he'd been through.
But then his heart dropped to his stomach as you walked out. He'd never seen you in such a soft sundress before, the off white fabric draped off your curves in a way that floored him. As if you were an angel floating by without a care in the world. You were busy shoving a small piece of paper in your purse, your face furrowed in frustration, and Logan smiled. Because he'd traced each line of that face before, he'd kissed those cheeks, your eyelids as you slept.
He'd loved you in ways that would scare a normal human.
And there you were.
"Honey?" he called, unconsciously following you quicker than he intended to. "Honey."
You glanced to the side, completely unaware of the giant lumbering man trailing after you with a soft look on his face and hope in his hands.
That alone tore him in two more than the memories from before.
"Baby, it's me."
The breeze finally went through the air, pushing the skirt of your dress a bit higher on your thighs. Except that's not what he latched onto. Your scent was different. Unlike any he'd encountered before. Honey still sweetly caressed his senses, but flowers overlayed that—peonies if he guessed. Delicious enough to have his mouth watering; his body already aching for you to be closer. To look at him in the way you used to.
He wanted to call out to you—gain your attention properly—but your name wouldn't leave his tongue. Because you were there and you finally caught sight of him and you were looking at him as if nothing bad ever happened between the two of you.
You saw him as a man.
Not a disappointment.
He willed himself to stop and breathe. Take in his surroundings; realize that you weren't who he once knew. You weren't even the same fucking person.
But before he could think straight, he'd already followed you halfway to your car. His eyes were dazed, heart nearly throttling him alive as he stood there dumbly. Waiting for you to finally speak.
"Oh..." Your heart rate spiked quicker than he expected. He couldn't find it in himself to feel bad though. "Hello?"
"Honey," he sighed, the weight on his shoulders lifting ever so slightly.
He caught the way your fingers tightened around your keys, the defense mechanism an instinct by now. And Logan realized what he looked like. A strange man standing too close for your liking. So he took a step back and gave you some space. In the hopes that you wouldn't see him as a threat. That maybe...you'd listen to what he had to say.
"Can I help you?" you asked, eyes darting around the parking lot in case you needed help.
What he wouldn't give for the opportunity to reassure you. To explain that he wasn't here to hurt you. That he'd kill himself before even laying a hand on you. Yet the correct words were lost and all he seemed to get out was an incoherent babble that had him wanting to dig his own claws into his chest.
"You smell different."
You straightened your spine, eyes narrowed into a glare he felt burn across his skin. "Look, I don't know who you are. But fuck off."
Something akin to pride flared in his chest at your tone, your words. But he couldn't show it externally. How would he explain that your fight—your fire—is what drew him to you in the first place? How could he tell you about a version of yourself you'd never know? A person he thought would be with him until his last breath exhaled into the world.
"I'm not here to hurt you." He raised his hands in an attempt to prove his point, but like your variant counterpart you were willing to bite first and ask questions later.
"Yeah. Sure asshole." The shopping bag in your other hand was lifted up, until you had a tighter grip on it in case something happened. You didn't know him. You probably never would.
But Logan had to try. He owed it to you to give it all he had this time around.
Otherwise...what was the point of living?
"My name's–" He made the wrong move stepping forward and knew it the second his boot hit the gravel. With a wince, he watched you stumble back against your car, your arm coming up to protect yourself. "No. Look I'm not gonna do anything–"
"Get the fuck away from me," you spit.
He moved back as if approaching a wounded animal—his body finally on edge in a new way. The fact that you didn't know him wasn't what broke off another chunk of his heart. He could handle that. He'd been through that.
You were afraid of him.
That realization dug in too deep for his body to heal.
That...he couldn't live with.
"WOAH hey!" He'd never appreciated Wade's irritating ass more than in this moment. He jumped between the two of you, the cart of groceries forgotten as he blocked Logan from your sight. "Step away from the nice lady wolf boy." Wade regarded you with a smile. "Hi! Sorry. This is my uncle and well as you can probably tell he's lost eight of his lives. So we're going on little old nine. And well the mind just goes to shit first."
Seconds passed by like minutes and Logan watched you visibly deflate. "Wade," you greeted him, visibly calmer than before. Logan felt his stomach twist violently at the thought. "It's good to see you. How's the job?"
"Oh yup you know. Left that. But I'm really pushing through. I've got an Etsy store where I sell miniature paintings of Michael Angelo's David's penis. So there's that."
Your laughter sent a hole through his chest and Logan bit back the growl that rose up the back of his throat. What the fuck was Wade doing making friends with you? Why were you laughing at his humor?
He couldn't count how many days he'd spent longing to hear your laugh again, the shine in your eyes that always came around when joy flooded your bloodstream. He could smell the honey off your skin, the warmth of what no doubt lay beneath your thin dress. And he wanted to rip Wade to pieces knowing that he was the one making it happen. That you were comfortable with a man who's mouth ran at a mile a minute.
"Did your sister have the baby yet?"
You brightened and Logan felt his heart stutter. "She did! A boy."
"Named Wade I hope."
Another peal of laughter had Logan's claws itching to descend as you ignored he was there. "Theo actually. A cutie."
"Aww." Wade moved closer, head bent to see the small polaroid you pulled out of your wallet. "Wow, he looks like you'd find him in a Gerber's advertisement."
Your eyes drifted up, past Wade's shoulder, until you finally caught Logan's gaze. And he felt like he could breathe. Every ounce of fear was wiped from your face; interest now creeping in as you dragged your eyes down his form. Past the slight peek of chest hair and down to how his jeans hugged his hips. Logan stood taller for your benefit, as if he needed to make a good impression.
He wanted to linger in your mind for days. Until the curiosity ate you alive.
"We're gonna go," Wade announced, after grabbing your bag and placing it in your trunk for you. "Someone has to feed the blind woman in my apartment. She tends to root through everything looking for food." He gripped Logan's arm, shoving him back a good few feet. Even as your eyes still remained glued to his face. "Glad to see the Hyundai is still working. You know you could take the fattest fucking nap in the back of that puppy. Makes you feel like an Egyptian mummy."
"Bye," you said, a dazed look in your eyes as Logan smiled in your direction. At ease with the knowledge that even in a different universe, he could still fluster you with a look.
Dragging himself away from you was hell, but Wade's grip remained unbreakable as they clambered to the car. The groceries stacked in the small backseat.
He could glimpse you driving off and suddenly the nightmare from earlier was the last thing on his mind.
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Wade's back hit the wall with a crack before the door could shut properly. The groceries in their hands toppled to the floor. He barely had time to duck before Logan's claws were aiming for his head—a snarl ripping from his throat.
"What the fuck?" Wade shouted, grabbing the paper bag and gently setting it on the table. "Next time just say you need to stay home and find some joy in an empty room and your hand."
"How do you know her?"
Wade smiled, assessing the furious state of chaos Logan was now left in. The tatters of his stability falling to the floor around him. For as much as he held himself together, it certainly remained easy enough to tear him a part.
"Got an eye on someone, do we honey badger?"
Logan grimaced, running a hand down his face. "Would you just fucking tell me?"
"Let me bask in this Logan. I'm about to watch a romcom come to life and need some popcorn." He rummaged through the bag, yanking out some chips. "Salty and sweet. That'll do."
"Wade," he bit out.
"Stick with us girls, we're about to get to the good stuff."
"WADE!"
He tossed the bag to the table, eyeing the way Logan never quite settled. "I'm gonna take a guess and say we know her more than just friendly hellos."
Logan couldn't answer because his grief did it for him. He did what he could to catch his breath, to stop seeing his version of you. The disappointment on your face, the pain in your voice. You'd been so angry with him. To watch the person he loved be reduced to a screaming crying mess wasn't something he wanted to relive, but Wade's question seemed to send an avalanche toppling to the ground.
"She's..." He sucked in a breath. "On my world. I...knew her."
"Knew her? Or knew her."
He reached for the bottle of whiskey Wade threw in with the rest of the groceries and popped it open before he spoke again. "It didn't end well between us. None of it did."
Wade fell silent and Logan found himself loathing the quiet more than the sound of his voice. If he was joking Logan could ignore it. He could pretend nothing happened. That you weren't here, you couldn't be hurt by him again.
You were safe from his destructive tendencies as long as you were in another universe.
"She lives across the street." Logan's head rose and whipped to see the window that faced the building across from them. "The old uncultured shit whistles that keep complaining about WHAM! the greatest thing to happen to music. They're her neighbors. Live right next door."
"Neighbors."
Wade nodded, offering him a chip. "She found their note and angel that she is, she very sweetly threatened to get them evicted. I offered to let her borrow my katanas but was rejected like younger me on prom night. You've really got yourself a catch there buddy."
Logan didn't need Wade to tell him how fucking lucky he was. He knew that the second you walked out of that store. You were everything good in his life at one point, everything he couldn't save. There wasn't much keeping him going on his old Earth, but having you made all the suffering he went through—all the pain he endured—worth it.
If you were waiting for him at the end, he'd do it all over again.
"So you want to take a dip in that honey huh? Taste that rainbow?"
His claws would have sunk into Wade's throat if a knock hadn't sounded at the door. With a huff, he stepped into the kitchen, the bottle clutched tightly in his hand. Whoever decided to give Wade some luck was of no concern to him.
Or so he believed.
"I didn't mean to accidentally take your groceries," you laughed, handing over a overpacked paper bag.
Stuffing the bottle under the sink, he met you halfway to the living room, his eyes drinking in the sight of you still in that dress. Still delicate enough for him to rip if he tugged it right. Heat curled along the base of his spine when your eyes met his, wide and glimmering with your laughter. He felt himself crumple at the sight of your lips parting, the surprise at his size still enough to make you speechless.
"Good to see you again," he greeted you, voice low and soft.
You didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, but something about the way his gaze devoured you within seconds left you breathless. The swooping sensation in your stomach became too much to handle. Desire and attraction weren't unknown concepts to you. But this felt like more. You could sense him right down to your bones and it scared the shit out of you.
"Oh right!" Wade scooched past you to swing an arm around Logan's shoulders. He did what he could to not stab him in the stomach. "This is Logan. My hunky new roommate."
Logan groaned. "Alright–"
"No, no it's good. You remember when I was declared basically the savior of the universe?"
Your face screwed up in confusion. Logan had never wanted to kiss someone more.
"Marvel...Jesus right?"
"I prefer MJ. Since I've got a Peter." Wade's head whipped to the side. "Suck it Tom Holland." His grip on Logan tightened. "This walking People's Sexiest Magazine helped. We're talking big claws, abs you just want to lick whipped cream off of–"
Logan's elbow slammed into Wade's stomach—crimson slowly tinting the tips of his ears. "That's enough."
"AND the Wolverine."
Surprised etched itself onto your face even further. Until you finally regarded Logan with a look he'd seen once before. Awe. When you first met one another in the halls of the mansion, you stared at him that exact way. As if you couldn't quite believe that iconic figure the X-Men made him out to be actually existed.
He couldn't tell if he liked it. Or if he'd rather you view him as a stranger.
"Logan," he said, offering his hand to you politely. Your skin remained as soft as he remembered.
Warmth bloomed in your body at the feeling of his calloused palm overwhelming yours, the scars across his knuckles old and ancient. Yet you found yourself wanting to trace them over and over, until the sight of them seared in your mind. You fought the urge to press your lips to them, etch your own mark into his skin. Something told you he wouldn’t mind.
Logan could see the intrigue on your face—the distracted gaze he wanted to keep in place. You were still curious. Still willing to learn about him. To pick him a part with soft words and even softer touches.
"Logan," you murmured under your breath, your eyes catching his. He felt his stomach leap at the sound of your voice whispering his name. Memories flooding his mind quicker than he expected. Of mornings spent in bed, your skin pressed against his. Of nights alone in his cabin—your stories lulling him to sleep.
Everything he willed himself to forget, yet could never truly let go of.
"I've got to head back." Disappointment filled your heart at the thought of not getting a chance to talk to him more. He had yet to let go of your hand and you found you liked his touch on your skin. "I'll see you soon Wade."
"Logan will be more than happy to walk you back," Wade replied, waving drastically behind your back. "Can't have you getting hurt now can we? Right peanut?"
You smiled. "I'm just across the street."
"I don't mind," Logan cut in, glaring at Wade to shut the fuck up.
"Okay," your voice was soft. Happy.
Logan would have done anything to keep it that way.
The walk back wasn't long enough for him to explain his actions from earlier, but you seemed to be just as smart as your variant self. Shutting the building's door, you turned to him—your dress fluttering in the breeze. Logan choked on his spit at the slight peek of your ass before you pushed the skirt back down around you.
"Did you know me?" You lead him to the corner, waiting for the traffic to die down. "On your Earth."
He paused, his eyebrows pulling together, and for a moment you wondered if you asked the wrong question. Wade told you bits and pieces of what happened since you last saw him, but Logan's background wasn't a discussion you tried to seek out. All you knew was that Wade acquired a new roommate. Not even a name.
Certainly not that he was Wolverine.
"Yes," Logan muttered, glancing at the change in lights.
You started to walk. "In what way?"
His hands curled into fists—echoes of his past rising to the surface. "We were...friends. You're a professor."
"A professor?" you exclaimed, a smile tugging on your lips. "Am I a mutant?"
He nodded. "You're able to bend time. Or control it." He snorted, following your lead towards your building. "I could never understand it. But Charles did."
The walk up to your apartment was silent, your thoughts filled with the new information he'd given you. And no matter how hard you tried to picture it, you couldn't see yourself as a mutant. A powerful being that held the ability to manipulate time who just so happened to be a professor. Somehow even thinking about it made you wonder why Logan was bothering to entertain this version of you. When the better one existed on his Earth.
"You said were."
Stopping at your door, he nearly knocked into you. "Hm?"
"Were friends. What happened?"
The answer he couldn't give you. The words he wouldn't even admit out loud to himself.
He felt his heart twist as if a knife slowly carved through his spleen. "We uh..." He coughed. "You..."
"I don't have to know." Grasping gently onto his arm, you offered a warm smile he felt down to his toes. A look he hadn't seen in quite some time. Logan could picture the last day you were happy in his head. Laughing with Charles in his office as you shared dinner, working on theories of your powers late into the night.
A week before they came.
"It's good to see you like this," he breathed, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek before stopping midair. "Happy."
Your eyebrows knit together. "I wasn't happy?"
"No." What he wouldn't give to take that information back, but it was out in the open, and as always—he remained too late.
"Why?" you asked, your hand sliding down to his much to his delight.
"I made you a promise." He sucked in a breath, his body begging him to start running. You'd be better off if you never knew. If you never remembered him in the first place. "I couldn't keep it."
I'll always keep you safe.
Words he refused to say again.
How could he promise this version of you that? How could he look you in the eyes and lie again? Breaking his Earth's you would haunt him for the rest of his life. He couldn't fathom doing it all over. It would kill him.
Except you weren't the person in his mind. You weren't the mutant who hated him with every fiber of your being. You were you. A continuous surprise that left his heart stuttering in his chest each time you looked his way. An enigma he found himself wanting to unravel.
"Maybe this time around you can," you said softly, letting him go with a smile as you entered your apartment, effectively opening the wound in his heart so wide there was no saving him.
Although he now knew something he didn’t know before.
He didn’t want to be saved.
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astonmartinii · 1 year
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astonmartinii’s masterlist
if you would like to support me or send me a coffee, please go here ko-fi.com/astonmartini !!
max verstappen 
teacher’s pet 
babysitter duty 
play date 
pen pals 
study bug 
college 
teddy bear 
into the arms of another part two part three part four 
worlds biggest fan part two 
behind the camera 
we don’t play about halloween 
passion for fashion
bite the hand
charles leclerc 
big reputation | part two
home ties
all is fair in love and war 
birthday wishes  
the student life part one / part two 
love languages
motormouth 
cat mom 
author 
big girls do(n’t) cry 
tight knit 
friendship bracelets 
you and me got a whole lotta history 
angel baby, devil child 
undercover verstappen
nonsense... or is it? | a very nonsense christmas
oscar piastri 
rookie love
a spoonful of sugar
cherry lip balm 
i am the rockstar, girlfriend 
witchy business 
peas in a pod
southern charm 
kiss it better
nothing good ever happens at the work christmas party
daniel ricciardo 
ric number three 
cooking up a storm 
rockstar 
wedding bells 
big apple lovin’ 
ultimate wing man 
i don’t wanna be funny anymore 
lewis hamilton 
raw chemistry 
doggy day care 
get the bag 
top secret 
signed up for life 
spice up your life
sebastian vettel 
racing royalty 
family ties 
pierre gasly 
we never go out of style 
final(ly) girl 
mick schumacher 
summer breaking 
opposites attract 
lando norris 
lonely hearts club 
suck up 
team bonding 
best friends 4 ever
frost bitten 
dj got us falling in love 
big time rush 
loving on a sunday
head in the clouds
reluctant cupid
bad blood (lando's version)
ballad of lovebirds and puppy dogs
just add water
george russell 
george russell’s the type of guy 
first impressions matter
esteban ocon 
always the ones you least expect 
carlos sainz 
journalist 
old money 
are you going to be my girl?
toto wolff 
falling for you 
alex albon 
nine lives 
careful what you wish for
yuki tsunoda
guess who?
logan sargeant
pick of the crop
lance stroll
brother's best friend
mamma mia 
mamma mia  
no more ace to play 
honey, honey
age of no regret 
a wonderful thing 
a very mamma mia christmas
if you need me, let me know, gonna be around
guilty as sin masterlist
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puckinghischier · 1 month
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Spotlight
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luke hughes x fem!reader
summary - reader prefers to stay out of the spotlight being luke hughes’ girlfriend brings
notes - y’all asked for luke, so luke you’ll get. i wanted to try to get out at least one more fic for you guys before my semester kicks off tomorrow. i don’t know how often i’ll be able to write once things get going, but i’m going to try my best not to completely disappear again. i don’t really like the ending of this, but i hope you enjoy it anyways. happy reading! 🫶🏼
request - “go with me?” “only if you’ll hold my hand” “take my jacket, i don’t want you catching a cold”
[2.3k]
You were someone that absolutely hated the spotlight. You hated the feeling of eyes on you, the knowledge that every move you make is being observed and analyzed.
You flew under the radar all through school, until college. You managed to become valedictorian of your program, earning a highly sought after position with a company based out of New Jersey.
The city has always brought a sense of anonymity to you that you’ve enjoyed. The ability to be a stranger everywhere you go brings a certain comfort to you.
That is, until you met one of the most well-known men in Jersey.
You first met Luke at an event your company was hosting in partnership with the Devils to present them with a hefty donation for a new practice facility. You had tried to get out of going, suit and tie events not being your typical scene, but your boss informed you that you were required to attend.
Even wearing the most plain dress you could find, you caught the attention of none other than the team’s rookie defenseman. You had tried to politely make your exit, but Luke was too intrigued by the pretty stranger in the corner.
The two of you had spent the rest of the night talking, despite the feeling of every eye on you as Luke lead you back to a table. The two of you exchanged numbers at the end of the event, Luke inviting you out to a game. He offered to give you a ticket, but you informed him that your company had rink-side season seats, courtesy of the GM after the donation.
You attended games regularly after that night, blending in the sea of red with Luke’s own Jersey on your back—another perk of the large donation— while also chatting with Luke nearly every day over text, which eventually morphed into phone calls, then facetime calls when he was on the road.
Four months after your initial meeting, Luke decided to make it official and put a label on your relationship.
You had worried about the unwanted attention that came with being a ‘WAG’ as you learned the other significant others on the team were nicknamed, but your feelings for Luke were greater than any discomfort you may experience.
Now, though, looking at the hoard of photographers that are stationed around the rink, your anxiety begins to spike a little.
“Honeybee, I promise it’ll be fine. They probably won’t even focus on us, anyways. They’ll want a few shots of me and Jack with mom and dad, but it’s likely they’ll be too busy on the guys with kids to even notice you’re with me,” Luke reassures you, crouched in front of you while tying your skates.
Today was family skate day for the team, Luke having asked you weeks ago to participate with him.
You agreed, despite your limited ability to skate, thinking it was just going to be the players and their families, no media presence. When you arrived with Luke this morning, however, and you saw the photographers trying to get pictures through the windows of Luke’s BMW, you realized you were wrong.
“I’m just nervous, Luke,” you tell him quietly. “I know if they release pictures of you with a girl during family skate it’s going to be the next big hockey gossip topic, and then it’ll feel like I’m under a microscope.”
Luke’s soft eyes look up at you, sensing the nervousness in your own.
“I know, sweet girl. But I promise, I’ll have Tom talk to the media and tell him to withhold any pictures of us together, if that makes you feel better?” he offers, picking up your now skate clad foot off of his knee and placing it on the padded floor.
You think about the offer, but realize it would still cause unwanted attention on you. You don’t want to be difficult, just invisible.
“No, I don’t want to overcomplicate things. It’s fine. Like you said, I’m sure they’ll mostly focus on everyone else,” you smile down at him, watching his own grin overtake his face.
“Well then, it’s time we finally get you acquainted with the ice. I have a feeling you’ll be seeing a lot of it in your future,” he winks, standing to his full height and holding a hand out to help you off of the bench.
He helps you walk over to the entrance to the rink, steadying you after every wobble. Once you reached the gate, you hesitate, halting your movements.
“C’mon, Honeybee. Go with me?” Luke asks you, already having stepped on the ice.
Thinking about what this means once more, and the huge step it is, no only onto the ice but in your relationship, you hesitate for only a few seconds.
“Only if you hold my hand,” you tell him, your words going deeper than just ice skating.
“Always,” he responds, tugging your hands towards him when you step onto the ice, shakily keeping your balance.
“Well, look at you, Wallflower, out here skating with the big dogs,” Jack calls out, skating up towards you and Luke.
Looking over to give him a short smile, you try to keep a majority of your attention on not falling over as Luke slowly pulls you towards him as he skates backwards.
“Figured it can’t be that hard if you do it all the time,” you tease him back, the two of you becoming close friends over the course of yours and Luke’s relationship.
Jack, as rambunctious and rowdy as he can be, is one of the people who works the hardest to keep you out of the spotlight, other than Luke, of course.
On the rare occasion you decide to tag along for team outings with Luke, Jack will act as your own personal body guard, perfectly hiding you in-between him and Luke anytime there’s a flash of a camera or a squeal of a fan.
“Oh, yeah, make fun of the professional. Let’s see you do this,” Jack makes a big show of skating backwards while swiveling, then executing a very poor jump, but still managing to land upright on his skates.
You roll your eyes at him, only glancing up for a few seconds at a time, trying to keep your eyes on your own feet.
“Alright, Jack, that’s enough showing off. Give the poor girl a break,” you hear Ellen scold her middle child as her and Jim skate over towards the three of you, hand in hand.
“Hey, she started it. I was just trying to defend myself,” he holds his hands up in surrender.
Luke guides you over to one of the short walls, allowing you to hold onto it for support for a second, giving you a break.
“Don’t act like you have to have a reason to show off, it’s just your natural state,” you tease Jack again, earning a laugh from the rest of the group.
“You got me there,” Jack doesn’t argue, shrugging his shoulders in agreement.
“Jack! Luke! Over here!” you hear a voice yell, turning to look at the photographer a few feet away from you, leaning over the wall with his camera pointed in your direction.
You feel the spike of anxiety in your chest, attempting to scoot further down the wall to separate yourself from them, but nearly losing your balance.
Luckily Luke was right there to catch you. “Hey, it’s okay. They’ll just get a few pictures of our family together and then move on,” he assures you once he makes sure you’re steady enough to be left alone.
You watch as Jack and Luke position themselves in just the right way that you’re completely hidden behind them, the added bodies of Ellen and Jim only ensuring your hidden state.
The photographer snaps a few shots of the family before giving a thumbs up, looking down to check the quality of his pictures.
You let out the breath you were holding in, sagging a bit at the relief of avoiding any unwanted attention.
“See, told you there was nothing to worry about,” Luke skates over to you again, leading you away from the wall.
“Luke! How about a shot of you and your lady!” the same photographer yells out, causing your relaxed state to turn rigid in a heartbeat.
“Nah, man. No pictures for her today. Just me and Jack,” Luke replies, skating to stand in front of you, blocking you from the camera pointed at you.
“Oh, c’mon, man. The fans will love it!” the photographer tries again, attempting to move positions to catch a glimpse of you.
“He said, no, man. Go get some shots of Cap or something. She doesn’t want her picture taken,” Jack skates up, standing in front of both you and Luke.
The photographer rolls his eyes, agitated at the loss of a good picture opportunity. “Fine, whatever,” the man huffs, turning and walking towards Nico and his family.
“Thanks, you guys,” you mumble out, embarrassed at the interaction.
“I told you, no pictures if you don’t want them,” Luke turns to face you, taking your hands in his once again, pulling you out further onto the ice.
The rest of the skate goes smoothly, no more unwanted attention from the photographers, just you and Luke and his family skating in small circles and having a good time.
Towards the end of the skate, you start bringing your gloved hands up to rub at your red nose, the chill of the ice finally getting to you.
“You cold, Honeybee?” Luke asks you, knowing how chilled you get, even when wearing layers like you were right now.
“Yeah, it’s a little chilly in here. Not that you’d know,” you tease your boyfriend, gesturing to his full set of pads and jersey he was wearing. Not to mention his tolerance for the cold anyways.
He leads the two of you over towards the benches, leaving you leaned against the wall for a second before returning with something in his hands.
“Here, take my jacket, I don’t want you catching a cold,” he tells you, draping your favorite plaid jacket of his over your shoulders.
You put your arms through the large sleeves, loving how you were now engulfed in the smell of his cologne.
Thanking him, you lean up to give him a small kiss, not caring who was watching, lost in your love for your boyfriend.
“Alright, let’s get you out of these skates and back into your normal shoes before people start filing in for warm ups. I have a game to play and you have to get to your seat so you can watch your hunky boyfriend do his manly job of hitting people and chasing a piece of rubber on ice,” he tells you, causing you to laugh at him, bringing a hand up to ruffle his curls.
After helping you remove your skates, and pouting until you give him a good luck kiss, Luke shoos you away so you can make your way to your usual seat, Jim and Ellen opting to join you at the glass rather than sitting in a box with some of the other player parents.
The boys ended up winning their game, Luke coming straight out of the locker room after the game and picking you up in a celebratory spin, claiming you have to go skating with him before every game now.
You laugh at his superstitious self, grabbing his hand and walking towards the exit of the rink with him to join the rest of the team for celebratory drinks, not wanting to bail on Luke after such a game.
Weeks later, when you see an article containing the pictures from the family skate event, you click on it and scroll through the various snapshots.
You find yourself smiling at all of the family pictures of Luke’s teammates, enjoying how happy the guys are to have their wives and kids with them on the ice.
Scrolling all the way to the end of the article, you find yourself stopping on a couple pictures in particular, the familiar pit of anxiety forming in your stomach.
The last two pictures in the article are pictures of you and Luke. The first was taken when he was zipping up the jacket he gave you, the two of you looking at each other with so much fondness you could feel the love radiating from the picture.
The second is when you were craning your neck to give Luke a small kiss, the picture captured right before your lips touched, both of you smiling at the other with the same fond look in your eyes.
Your immediate reaction should have been a level three meltdown, your picture out there with Luke, officially, in an ESPN article of all places, but you were surprisingly calm. You should have been screaming and angry, having specifically told the photographer no pictures, but you couldn’t find that anger within yourself.
The pictures showcased yours and Luke’s love for each other so well, you wanted copies of them for yourself. Suddenly you didn’t care if people knew your name, or your face. You could care less if you were front and center on every hockey gossip page in existence.
All you cared about was the amount of happiness you saw on Luke’s face in the pictures, and how deeply you felt about him.
So, when Luke called you an hour later, panicked and telling you he was in the process of getting them taken down, you told him it didn’t matter. They didn’t need to be taken down, because you didn’t care if you had to stand naked in the middle of the rink during puck drop at his next game, you just wanted people to know you loved him with every ounce of your being.
Your aversion to attention be damned, seeing these pictures made you want to scream your love for him from the rooftop of the highest building in Jersey. You were still opposed to the idea of unwanted and unnecessary attention, but decided right here that there would be no more hiding. You were going to be there for Luke in any way he wanted or needed you from here on out. And if you happened to be caught in a few pictures on the way? Well, you guess you’ll just have to get them framed.
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cherry-pop-elf · 1 month
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Cup Of Sugar
Deadpool x Reader x Wolverine
Authors Note: Since Yall finally see the beauty of Poolverine, you finally get some stupid fluff. Here ya go
Sum: You were neighbors with Blind Al, and that chaotic son of hers. Recently you’ve been hearing alot of noise, and figured you check on them both. Like a good neighbor. Seems to have been just the right time
Warnings: Fluff, canon typical violence, Logan and Wade being so gay in their own way, Blind Al being a total wing woman, dogpool aprecitation post, family fluff because god dammit Mama Blind Al and her sons boyfriend with their new dog domestic fluff is needed!
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“Will you two knock it off! I don’t need another damn couch in this house-!” You would hear Al shout. Not the first time, but the noise seemed so much more wild as of recent. Like some kind of badger was joining the party. Couldn’t help it with your worry. She was blind after all. So, here you are. Knocking on her door.
“Get along-! Well, or like STOP GETTING ALONG-!” You heard her snapping, before yanking the door open. “The hell you want?” She asked, before you would clear your throat.
“Hey Miss Althea-!” The moment she heard your voice she had softened into that motherly state she always had for you. Not many people in the complex really enjoyed her company, or her son’s, but you always took the time to say hi to her. Not treat her any less inferior because of her blindness.
“Oh hey baby! Come on in, get in here-!” She just beamed, and laughed. Happy to have someone new to talk to. Can get lonely, after all. From many of your conversations with her, when helping her take the groceries to her apartment, her son Wade was often on business trips. Nice to have some company.
Inside was certainly a chaotic mess. You swore someone ran around like a Tasmanian Devil in there. Pictures asque, cushions everywhere, a couch shredded like it was thrown in a blender. You were wondering what the hell happened. Was it a break in? Had you worried sick, before a bark caught your attention.
“PUPPY-!” You couldn’t stop yourself from squealing, as you knelt to the floor. Right next to the dog in her dog bed. All snuggled with plushies of what you guessed were her favorite heros, and seeming to be the one area of the apartment that escaped this fire. Least whoever attacked the home had some kind of morals.
“That ugly thing? That’s ’Mary Puppins’ as the dynamic duo calls them. She that ugly kinda cute. She always knows when you need someone to cuddle, that’s for sure. I ain’t complaining. Nice having company.” Al would explain to you, as you were hypnotized by her cuteness. Had her cradled in your arms, and giving her all the belly scratches.
“She’s perfect.” You cooed, as you gave her fluffy head a kiss. Had her barking happily at your attention. Seemed said barking finally got the attention of the two rascals in the home. A bickering of panic French was held, before you turned your head. As to see what the French was going on.
“Hey-“ A burly man would wave, before seeming to shove the other person into a bedroom. In some kind of mad panic, as if to hide them from you. For some reason.
“Oh, hey. Uh, hi.” You would stand up, Pup in hand, as you registered what you were looking at. He wasn’t the tallest man around, and honestly? Might be even shorter than yourself. Didn’t take away the fact he was built like a truck. Somehow all tucked away behind a torn up wife beater and jeans. Looked like he had been fighting someone with a set of knives. On top of knives. With more knives.
“That’s Logan. My kids new boyfriend.” Al would brush off casually, as she would find herself towards the couch. Just to sit there, and most definitely keep an ear out for the drama to happen now.
“We aren’t….It’s complicated-“ He tried to explain, before said Wade popped his cheery ass out. Having been in such a rush to join the party, he was wearing his shirt backwards. You would argue his boxers to, but a puppy keeps anyone’s attention.
“Oh hey! Peanut, that’s our neighbor. About time you met the sweetheart. Don’t do anything Logany. Or do, kinda a freak. Just saying-“ He would nudge at the shorter man, as said man rolled his eyes.
“Hey Wade-! When did you get this little girl? And uh, the hell happened here?” You were pretty used to Wades insanity at this point, hence why he called you a freak (in that sweet way endearing way) so maybe there was an explanation on all this.
“Thats Mary Puppens. The sweetest shit stain around. We got her from uh….A cousin. Passed away. Terrible terrible. Can’t have her left alone.” Wade would explain, as Logan would walk over. Gave the pup a gentle scratch under her chin that made her shake her leg just right. She clearly loved her new parents dearly.
“And the mess here?” You would raise a brow, before Wade tugged at his collar. That’s when he noticed it was backwards, and kept himself busy with fixing it. Left Logan to have to bite the bullet.
“….Redecorating…..” Logan offered, as you just stared at the two. A brow raised, as you didn’t buy it for a single second. You weren’t stupid. You weren’t going to fall for the ‘put on a hat and jacket and suddenly you can’t make out a superhero from a crowd’ trope. Something suspicious was going on.
“Just be direct, will ya?! If anyone can be trusted it’s gonna be that there sugar.” Al would practically scold the two little dumbasses. Just like a mother would to her so , and his boyfriend, who were trying to dance around a topic.
“Are you two super humans of some kind? You don’t have to tell me more. Just….Dont wanna worry about little Pup here and Al. Ya know?” That seemed to make Logan pause. As if your kindness, and realness, was a shock to have. A welcomed one, but you’ll still get caught off guard if you ate trash and suddenly had a pallet cleanser of lime sherbet shoved in your mouth.
“Do you mean super human as super human, or super human like mutant powers, or super human like experimented on, or super human like as a-“ And Logan promptly smacked the back of Wades head. Treating him like a skipping record. Had you giggle, since now you didn’t have to worry about the violence. Able to comprehend they just don’t feel pain like others.
“Super human is all that needs to be said, bub.” Logan warned him, as he held up his fist. You thought to punch, but you swore the top of his hand was twitching. Not like a muscle spasm. Way too uniformed. As if three veins were bulging. Maybe it was better not to question it.
“Now, why are you even here?” Logan would try his blunt coldness on you, but living next to the likes of Wade doesn’t really phase you. This was a world of super heros and inhumans. Can’t scare you that easy.
“Came to check on Miss Althea. Heard a ruckus, that was louder than normal, so I came to check.” That had Logan scoff. To hear you being so ‘brave’ and coming over to the source of the noise. A admiring ‘so dumb but in a brave way’ admiring.
“He’s still grumpy from the turbulence, if you will-“ Wade would jazz hands, as if knowing things that no one else shouldn’t. He always did act like that. As if he just knew how the world worked better than others. You found it more so endearing than creepy, like others did.
“Oh! New here? Well welcome! Oh, maybe I can show you around? Wade and I know some pretty cool places. Oh! There’s a dog park that’s built for dogs who need more special care than others. We can all go there with Miss Puppins!” You were rambling like Wade, but had the clarity of Logan. A beautiful combination. One that had the two men smitten.
“Fuck yeah we can go to the dog park. Get dressed, Showman, come on-!” And Wade was running off to get changed. The typical attire of hoodie, face mask, glasses. Just layering. You didn’t find his skin disgusting, but given the world’s issues with pandemic it can’t be helped.
“Great, now you got him started again-“ Logan would complain, yet was already grabbing his leather jacket. Complaining, yet clearly willingly excited all the same. Just in his own way.
“Would you like to join us, Miss Althea?” You asked her, which gave her a bit of a surprise. You wanted her to come along? She normally never tagged along on things like this. Yet, you offered. Even though most times she would say no. Not this time.
“Someone needs to make sure you assholes don’t get into more shit.” She smarted off, but was already standing. With the help of Logan, of course. Just in time for Wade to return.
“Come on disabled gang! Let’s go!” He would clap, as Logan just kept rolling his eyes. You yourself were excited, and leading the charge now. All with Miss Puppins happy in your arms. So happy to have a big family to take her on adventures.
Nothing more sweet than a happy pup.
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chukys-mouthguard · 1 month
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Could you do where the reader is a singer and dating Luke hughes and if you are a taylor swift fan you know how she said karma is the guy on the chiefs instead of on the screen you you do where Lukes family and friends are at the readers concert and karma is a song she wrote and she changes to karma is the guy on the deviles and the whole tent where his family and friends are goes wild and making him blush. If that makes since.
my muse
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1.5k words
genre: fluff
featuring: luke hughes x famous singer girlfriend
summary: your world tour makes a stop in New Jersey the same weekend as the hughes bowl, so you seize the opportunity to reveal your relationship with Luke to the world
note: i just made up lyrics versus using an actual artists lyrics, but that is really the only thing i changed regarding this request 🫶🏼🩵 i am not super thrilled with how this turned out, but i still wanted to post this because i thought the request/idea was super cute with luke
You weren’t sure how the universe smiled on you when your schedule magically aligned with the annual Hughes Bowl, but it meant that the Hughes could all attend your show together. And while your relationship with Luke wasn’t yet public, you knew there were some rumors going around that their presence certainly wouldn’t help to silence.
As you got the finishing touches done to your hair and makeup, you headed off to do some pre-show photo ops. Having invited a few local friends backstage, along with Luke and his family.
“Hey guys!”
Greeting the Hughes you hugged both Ellen and Jim before moving to Quinn and Jack. Saving Luke for last as you gave him a kiss before you invited them all to get a photo with you.
“Thank you so much for the tickets, you really didn’t have to do that honey. You know we would’ve gladly bought our seats to support you!”
Ellen wrapped you in another hug, going on to tell you how nervous Luke was to have them all here with him for your show.
“Oh stop, it’s the least I could do for you all. You’ve always been so supportive of me and my career, as well as me and Luke.”
Looking over Ellen’s shoulder you watched Luke and his brothers talking with some of your friends they’d be sharing their suite with for the night.
“Is he really nervous?”
Ellen nodded with a smile, taking your hands as she pulled you to the side to talk.
“He said he’s nervous because you two aren’t officially public, and he knows that all of us being here is probably going to fuel those rumors even more. So he just doesn’t want all of us being here to stir anything up.”
“Oh my gosh, I’m not even worried about that! I want you all here one hundred percent! Maybe I should talk to him? Calm him down a bit?”
With a chuckle you headed over to steal Luke away, taking his hands in yours as you found a seat across the room. A smile on his face as he hadn’t stopped staring at you since you’d walked in the room.
“How are you?”
Luke chuckled at the question, a bit shocked that you were asking him those words.
“Well, you’re the one about to go perform for thousands of people and you’re asking me? I’m pretty good, can’t complain.”
Rolling your eyes you laughed at him, his sarcasm always being something you appreciated no matter the situation.
“Are you nervous of people finding out about us?”
He immediately shook his head, giving your hands a reassuring squeeze as he could sense in your voice you were a bit discouraged at the idea of him being scared. But it was the furthest thing from the case. Luke wanted to scream from the rooftops that you were his, he’d always been so proud to have you as his girlfriend. But he knew that your world was so different from his, and the media could be brutal and unruly. So he wasn’t sure what they’d potentially do with the story once it broke.
“I don’t care who knows that you’re my girlfriend, let them all know. I just don’t want you to ever feel like we have to tell people our business, or feel forced to confirm anything. I think it would obviously make things easier. Like being able to come here tonight and support the most talented girl on the planet without being nervous about photos leaking online and rumors spreading.”
He smirked as his lips peppered your neck with kisses. Making sure to avoid your face so as to not mess up your makeup. He’d learned quickly that the makeup artists were not a fan of having to fix smudges from his kisses. His arms snaking around your waist as he pulled you close to him, placing a quick peck on your lips before he rested his chin on your shoulder, whispering into your ear so no one around overheard.
“If you want to tell everyone, then do it. It’s not like they don’t already have an idea right?”
“Tonight?”
Pulling away you rested your hands on his cheeks as you looked at him, slightly shocked at his sudden boldness and want to go public.
“Why not? It would be the perfect time to do it. You’re in Jersey, I’m in the crowd. People are most likely going to figure it out so why not beat them to it?”
You raised an eyebrow at the idea, thinking to yourself how you might be able to work such an announcement into the show without explicitly calling it. Whispering to Luke your idea, you waited for his approval, which he gave in the form of a smile and a kiss.
“It’s going to be great, I love you.”
He wrapped you in one final hug before you had to bid farewell to everyone, the show set to start soon and you needed to go through your vocal warmups.
As you finished off yet another song it was time for the show to slow down, the next few songs being acoustics or ballads as one of the dancers brought you out your guitar.
Slipping it over your shoulder you tried to catch your breath as your heart was still racing from the previous number, the fans all screaming as you waved to a few in the front row.
“How’s everyone doing?”
You smiled as you looked out to scan the crowd, your eyes eventually falling on the sectioned off seating where Luke was sitting with his family and your friends. He gave you a reassuring smile as he knew you were about to sing the song that would contain the announcement you’d be nervous for all night.
“This next song is one off of my latest album. And while I know you all love it exactly how it is, I thought we might change up the words a little bit. It’s a special night here in New Jersey, there’s some special people in attendance. So I hope you don’t mind, but let’s see if anyone can catch it. This song is called, ‘Momma I think I love him’.”
You winked to the crowd before you heard the countdown begin to play in your in-ears. Strumming only the first few chords your fans instantly erupted over the song, all of them singing the words along with you, only making you even more nervous for the lyric change you’d barely had a chance to practice before you’d perform it live.
Looking out to Luke you caught him singing along with you, a smile on his face as he was in awe of you. No matter how many times he’d seen you perform live, he could never get over how talented you were. Loving that he was able to be here to cheer you on, just like you’d done for him so many times before.
Coming up on the ending of the song, you could feel your palms sweating, praying you didn’t drop your guitar pick or goof up the notes. Your heart was practically beating through your chest as you knew that once you sang the different lyrics, there was no turning back, and your relationship with Luke would be confirmed within minutes of the song's final chords.
The crowd watched in anticipation, knowing this was the moment of the lyric change. Their phones all pointed at you, unsure as to what you’d be saying but wanting to be sure to capture it on camera.
“He’s, six foot two with hazel eyes. But I promise you he ain’t like them other guys. He’s a, bit of a rebel. And he, plays for the Devils. Jersey 43, and he’s perfect for me. Oh momma, I think I love him.”
The roar throughout the arena made you blush as you shyly covered your face with the song coming to an end, hearing the screams over the reveal from those close enough to you. The word must have traveled fast as the crowd had begun chanting Luke’s name, your eyes immediately looking at him as you were nervous whether or not you’d done the right thing.
But Luke immediately washed those fears away, holding his hands up to you in a heart as you reciprocated. The camera men at the concert not letting the moment go unnoticed to anyone else as they quickly flashed the image of Luke up on the screen. He’d gotten a bit shy, but waved to the crowd before he forced Jack and Quinn to get on camera with him. The fans screamed louder and louder as each of the Hughes’ boys were shown.
“Well, surprise!”
You playfully spoke as you’d handed your guitar off to one of the stage attendants, fanning your face to try and calm your blush. The fans still obsessing over the news as you walked down the long runway towards the main stage to get ready for your next song.
“Hopefully the rest of the show will be just as exciting as seeing the Hughes’ brothers all in attendance, maybe if we are lucky I can get them to come on stage with me.”
You sarcastically spoke as you looked towards their section, immediately seeing them shaking their heads no as they waved their arms in disagreement. Rolling your eyes you laughed as they fans tried to encourage them.
“Trust me, you do not wanna see them dance. They are much better on skates!”
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superectojazzmage · 1 month
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Just back from Alien Romulus and hoooo boy oh boy. Review/analysis.
Easily the best Alien movie since the first two, which isn't saying much, yeah, but it is legit a really cool and well-made movie, competing with Late Night With The Devil, Longlegs, and Cuckoo for title of my favorite horror movie this year.
In a lot of ways it's about harvesting the few good ideas from the post-2 movies that were squandered and doing them right, plus getting the series back to it's healthier roots, kinda the movie equivalent of someone doing physical therapy to get back in the saddle after an injury. This means it's not quite brand new ground like some may hope for and I've heard some people feel it gets a little derivative at points because of it. I can kinda agree and certainly understand that criticism, but I feel it does what it's aiming for really well and sets things up for future works to go in even crazier directions. Furthermore, it takes a lot of time to try and weld together the disparate post-2 movies in a way that brings the series back to a little coherency.
The atmosphere is really intense and cool, swinging between lovecraftian dread and build-up and high-energy chaos. The aesthetics and special effects are gorgeous, taking full advantage of the progress that technology has made since 2 plus really digging in to the used cassette future vibe of the older films. The characters are likable and actually intelligent (or at least understandable) in behavior like in the first two movies, so you care about what's happening to them instead of just waiting for them to get munched. The action and kills were really cool and creative, the cinematography in general was off-kilter in an awesome way - there's a definite attempt to make the movie feel claustrophobic and intimate. Fede Alvarez did a fantastic job in general, I'd love to see him do more with the series.
It REALLY cranks up the series' psychosexual, freudian, and sexual assault subtext, arguably to a point where it's just plain text. So if you're sensitive to stuff like that or if this is your first go at Alien, be warned for that.
More specific notes go under the header for spoilers. Highly recommend you go in as blind as you can.
Andy and Rain were wonderful leads, their dynamic was fantastic and Calie Spaeny and David Jonsson both turned in great performances. I direly hope they join the first two films' casts as "major" characters for the series going forward.
The effects to make Daniel Betts look like Ian Holms were quite possibly the one and only time the special effects failed. It looks very wonky, which is sad because Betts does a really good job copying Holms' mannerisms for Ash while still making Rook feel like a distinct character.
In addition to the usual themes of sexual unease, genetics, and parenthood, this movie adds in some really interesting themes of familial legacy, the rise of new generations, foundations, etc.. Andy and Rain are like Romulus and Remus of myth, orphaned and left to fend for themselves but growing into founders of a new age - both in-story with their carrying the XX121 substance and evidence of Weyland-Yutani's misdeeds to Yvaga and out-of-story with them being the protagonists of a new era for Alien. Likewise, the Offspring is the first example of an entirely new species, neither human nor alien but taking from the lineages of both through Kay and Big Chap, a Romulus-like founder of it's breed that will later bear fruit in Resurrection with the Ripley clone and Newborn.
I'm really not kidding when I say above that the psychosexual undercurrents are taken to the extreme here. This movie basically sees the ways the original film subtly pin-pricked at those themes, says "fuck that", and deliberately rubs it in your face in a way designed to make sure you can't ignore it. It wants you to be grossed out and to squirm in your chair and it knows exactly how to make it happen.
Alvarez noted in the lead-up to release that he took a lot of influence from Isolation and you can definitely see that in how he depicts the Xenomorphs and the general aura of the film. He further described it as a kind of halfway point between the first and second movies and you can also see that; it has the Lovecraft-style tension and horror of the first, balanced with the energy and action of the second, and it does a really good job finding a middle ground between Ridley Scott and James Cameron's styles while also doing it's own dance.
I mentioned way back at the start how the movie basically harvests the good ideas from 3, Resurrection, Prometheus, and Covenant and gives them the room they deserve while dumping the bad. It does that in both terms of themes/style and continuity/lore. Concepts that those movies bungled like xeno-human hybridism, the black goo, genetic engineering as a focus, and so on are done here more creatively and competently. Themes that those films tried and failed to tackle are handled with significantly more grace. It has the atmosphere and characterization of 3 but none of it's baggage and needlessly depressive tone. It has the body horror and weirdness of Resurrection without taking it to the zany, embarrassing areas that movie went. The effects and creativity of Prometheus and Covenant without any of their awful writing and clumsy messages. Alvarez takes on kind of an Al Ewing-esque "repairman" writing style here.
The Xenomorphs are absolutely deranged in behavior compared to most portrayals, attacking like either cruel sadists or raging chimps and rarely bothering to take hosts. I'm not sure if such a reading was intended, but I got the vibe that the idea is Xenos raised without a queen or hive grow to be basically sociopathic like how real world predatory animals grown without parental figures become feral and dysfunctional. Which would also explain a lot about how the Xeno in the original movie, Big Chap, acts there.
The Offspring's design is fucking wicked and I love it.
One of my few major criticisms is that Big Chap died off-screen instead of getting more to do. What was the point of having him be alive at the start if he wasn't gonna be used beyond a backstory point to set up the main story?
All in all, a very impressive effort and a great return to form for the series that I recommend highly.
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plathfiles · 6 months
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Wildest Dreams | BW
pairing: bale!bruce wayne x fem!reader
warnings: tooth rotting fluff, not proof read, Bruce being lovesick, established relationship. lmk if I missed anything
a/n: send me requests 🥺🥺 also lmk if you want to be on the tag list
taglist: @bumblebeesfromvenus @allysunny @junmsli
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☽☽☽
Bruce Wayne had lived a difficult life. Well maybe not as difficult as one would expect. He was a rich playboy with a mansion and had a butler. But losing his parents at a young age took a tole on the man.
You were Bruce’s sunlight, guiding him away from the darkness inside him. Of course, as Batman he made Gotham a better place. But you, you made Bruce Wayne a better person.
You and Bruce had plans tonight. As his day job of being a rich philanthropist and carrying on the Wayne legacy, he must attend and host gala’s for Gotham’s elite.
Tonight was one of those Gala’s. The Williams family made a large donation to fund a homeless shelter in Gotham. This meant, a lot of the homeless population in Gotham would be properly housed instead of living on the street and resulting to crime.
Bruce was never one to like Gala’s. He thought the people whom attended them were ingenuine and cared more about their appearance instead of actually helping the city.
You tried to tell him that at least the money would help. Bruce couldn’t argue with that. You were right. Their money would help Gotham, but their attitude was atrocious.
One night, Bruce had gotten visibly jealous as he caught a man — who used to be one of this father’s close confidants — hitting on you at the open bar.
“And do you know what I said to my fellow soldiers?” The creepy old man asked.
You were not interested in the conversation. He was very clearly flirting with you and it made you uncomfortable. “No, I don’t,” you said, vaguely and uninterested.
Suddenly a warm and comforting hand wrapped around your waist. A familiar kiss pressed against your cheek. You turned and a smile graced your features. Bruce.
“Did you tell them you’re flirting with someone who is old enough to be your daughter?” Bruce said to the old man. “If you will excuse us, we have to talk to Commissioner Gordon.”
As Bruce swept you away, he pinched your side playfully. “Thank you,” you said up to his ear.
“Couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else getting close to you. Especially an old creep like him,” he said.
You liked when Bruce got possessive, although you would let him know that. You wouldn’t be able to live it down.
You were currently getting ready for tonight’s gala, standing infront of your large mirror and putting on your diamond jewelry. It was a present that Bruce had gifted you.
“You look breathtaking,” Bruce said. Think of the devil and he shall appear. He’d leaning against the wall, looking at you in the mirror. You look at him, seeing him in the glass.
“Thank you,” you say softly, a blush covering your cheeks.
Bruce is wearing a fancy suit and a navy blue tie to match the color of your dress. You fix a diamond earring and then turn around to face him. Walking, towards him.
“Your tie is crooked Mr. Wayne,” you smile, fixing his tie.
He hums in response, placing his hands delicately on your waist. “What would I do without you?” Bruce asked softly.
You smile back at him, placing a reassuring kiss on his cheek.
During the gala, Bruce pulled you to him on the dance floor. “Dance with me?” He gently asked.
You nodded in agreement and placed your hand in his. Bruce placed a hand on your waist and connected your other hand. The classical music surrounding the dance floor, enveloped you both completely.
Your head rested on his shoulder and he looked down at you with such content and happiness. “I love you,” Bruce whispered.
Bruce had never shared this information before now. He’d thought it obviously, how could he not love you — be in love with you.
You looked up at him, your beautiful eyes staring back at his. “I love you too Bruce,” you replied.
It was simple and sweet. Bruce and you deserved a quiet night in each others company.
Bruce leaned forward to kiss you. Returning the kiss you moved your arms to wrap around his neck. He pulled you close.
From across the ballroom, a photographer snapped a picture. You two looked like Gotham’s happiest couple. Bruce had found the woman of his dreams and his home.
“You’re my wildest dreams,” Bruce said softly, rubbing his nose against your own. “I’m never letting you go.”
“Good,” you smiled contently.
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aloesarchives · 5 months
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Domestic Headcanons w/ Mama!Reader and the Fushiguros #2: New Addition to the Family!
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TW/Warnings: Domesticity, AFAB/Female Reader, Family life, Pregnancy, Mention of Creampies but not sexual, unhinged crack, JJK OC(but not main x Reader)
Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader
Pronouns/Usage: She/Her, Mama/Mom
It was about time I finished this, been sitting in my drive for a few months. Anyway, this is a general headcanon that takes place mostly in my Modern Au as Mayumi will appear in future along with her bio. But she may appear in my "Toji Lives" au depending how I'm really feeling, I will probably age her up if I do.
If you has questions or wanna ask more about her, feel free to drop an ask in my inbox!
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Introducing:
Name: Mayumi (L/N) Fushiguro
Kanji Name: 万優三
Age: 2-3(Modern Au)
Given how Toji is a dog 25/8 whenever he’s given any alone time with you, Megumi is genuinely surprised he and Tsumiki don’t have at least two or more younger siblings.
It mostly comes down to you and Toji’s schedules and how having another child or having more children wouldn’t be the best choice for you two and the kids themself.
It was decided by you AND Toji that Megumi would be your last child since baby Megumi was a hassle and you two were dealing with two kids under the age of three. As time went on, raising the two was hard work but both of you two managed. Now Tsumiki and Megumi are in high school and can function, there’s no need for you and Toji to treat them like children even though they will always be your babies.
But with Tsumiki and Megumi always away at school, it’s mostly you and Toji at home. Yes, it was nice and peaceful to have your house with you and your hubby. But you start longing for the days your children were younger and small. Missing when Megumi would call you Mama and Tsumiki with Mommy. You become all sentimental especially looking through family pictures throughout the house and the family albums. You started to miss having to take care of a little one in the house.
Toji notices this change in your behavior so he asks what's on your mind. When you tell him you missed your children being children, he suggested having one more child. This shocked you considering that Toji told you himself that Megumi was your two’s last child. He didn’t want to have any more after that because Megumi was a handful. You told him if he’s not comfortable and isn’t ready for another one that he shouldn’t force himself just to make you happy. You’ll just satisfy it with old baby pictures from the past.
You didn’t want to have a child just because you wanted a baby to coddle and that’s it. All children deserve to have a parent but not every parent deserves a child. But Toji brings up the point that both you and him are more stable, both financially and mentally, and have more time to be at home. Since your two other children are teenagers who can do basic functions, you can focus on taking care of a child while taking care of teenagers.
After some time and Toji being the little devil on your shoulder, you gave the green light to have another child. Albeit being the last child you and Toji will ever have.
Toji is excited to have another kid with you and to give Tsumiki and Megumi a younger sibling. But we all know why Toji is REALLY happy to give you another child. As the man got to stepping in making you pregnant and having another kid. This man put so many creampies in you it’s insane.
But you guessed the universe wanted to make it easier the third time because, like all of your pregnancies which is only two, you got pregnant fast. It only took a month of trying to get pregnant. Just like any pregnancy, it was rough. It was your third time so you expected what’s to come, though it had been 12 years since you were last pregnant. But Toji, being your ever loving husband, took care of you and was at your beck and call(Explain in detail here). Your scary, intimidating, and grumpy dog of a husband becomes your sweet and protective puppy all over again(if Toji wasn’t fucking already lol).
You wanted to wait until a visible ultrasound was possible to tell your two children. Luckily, Megumi and Tsumiki would be home right after school ends and you would tell them the news. After dinner, you told your two children to wait a bit at the table as you got the ultrasound that’s sealed in an envelope. As you just place the envelope in front of your kids, they look at it curiously. Toji chuckles as Megumi flips the envelope on both sides before Tsumiki grabs it from her brother.
“So we opened it, Mom? What’s inside?”
“You’ll find out once you open it, my dear.”
Then Tsumiki opens the envelope and finds the picture. She takes it out and holds it so she and Megumi can look at it. It took Tsumiki a few seconds to figure out as her smile extended. Megumi is still confused when his sister says, “Are you really, mom?!”
You nodded your head as Tsumiki stood up from her chair and gave you a hug. Megumi was still trying to wrap his head around the picture. Toji chuckles at his son as he walks over to him. “Are you okay, Megumi? You’ve been staring at that picture like it was a puzzle.” “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be looking at. How come Tsumiki got it before I did?” Tsumiki goes to Megumi as she starts explaining the picture. Before she even finishes, your son looks at you with wide eyes as he blurts out, “You’re pregnant, Mom?!”
Toji bursts out in laughter at Megumi while you smile at your son. You were happy that your children felt the same way you did, especially seeing Megumi smile. You were worried about the age gap between your children and their youngest sibling but it seems to not be a problem to your kids. 
You loved the fact your children were happy about having another sibling.
Ever since the announcement, Megumi has been home more often. While your children have been more considerate(if they weren’t already), Megumi had this shift in behavior that made you a little worried. Once you were in your 2nd trimester, Megumi always tried to be home before sundown. He always called you after school if you needed anything from the grocery or convenience store. He was very reluctant to leave you alone. At home, he always checks up on you whether you’re in the bedroom, sitting on the couch, in your home office/personal rooms. 
As much as Megumi says he doesn’t take after his dad, you thought it was adorable and endearing how Megumi looked after you like Toji did. Because of your already fluctuating hormones, you dote and gush over Megumi way more than usual. You didn’t before because you wanted to respect Megumi’s space and independence. Always playfully pinching his cheeks, giving your mama kisses, petting and ruffling his hair, the list goes on. Megumi never pushes you away or rejects your affection because you are his mama and it makes you happy. It’s also because Megumi loves your affection as it reminds him of when he was a little boy, but since he’s older he wants to be taken more seriously and wants you and Toji to treat him as such. Yet it bit him in the ass because you respected his wishes and only gave him physical affection when he gave the green light.
Megumi, every time he’s home, is stuck at your side. You’re in the kitchen making yourself a drink, Megumi is sitting at the table already. On the couch folding a small laundry batch, Megumi’s helping you with it. Sitting in the garden underneath the tree, Megumi makes you sit on the blanket as sits beside you with his dogs laid out in the shade. The only time he isn’t is when you’re in the bathroom or sleeping in your bedroom. But Megumi sends his dogs to watch over you during your naps. Bro, Toji told Megumi to make room for him on the couch just for him to side-eyes his dad and say “no”. Then Megumi’s dogs appear next to you and lay their heads on your lap. Toji was so annoyed.
But you didn’t know how concerned Megumi was for you until you Gojo called you and said Megumi wanted to opt out of dorming his first year at Jujutsu Tech. You asked Gojo if Megumi said why and Gojo only said, “Megumi-kun only told me he just can’t, (Y/N)-sama.” By the time the call happened you were in your third trimester, meaning you were nearing your due date. You asked Toji if he knew but he had no clue either. You and your husband had a talk with Megumi about it. Megumi said he didn’t need to dorm when he’s in high school because he could just walk to school from the house. But Toji being the better interrogator, he got Megumi to spill the real reason. And so Megumi reveals he doesn't want to dorm once he goes to Jujutsu Tech because he wants to help out around the house and watch his little sibling grow up. 
“Megs, you know I’m home, right?”
Megumi looks at his father before continuing.
“As I was saying, I need to be here in my little sister’s life. I don’t want to be a stranger because she can’t remember me, Mom.”
You gave a reassuring smile to your son, placing a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.
“I get it, Megumi. I completely understand where you’re coming from. But I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me. I have your sister and papa after all to help me, especially your papa since he can cook anything we ask for. And know the school requires their first years to live on campus, so you do have to live on school grounds. You can always come back whenever you need to, this will always be your home, My Dear Megumi–Wait, little sister? You think it’ll be a girl, Megumi?”
He shrugs, causing Toji to raise his brow at him.
“Ya sure, Megs? You don’t think it’ll be a boy? Don’t you want another boy in the family?”
Megumi squints at his dad as he frowns.
“If I know this family, your genes are too strong, Dad. I’m a complete copy of you and Tsumiki only got Mom’s personality and smile. If it’s a boy, it will be another version of you and I don’t even wanna think about that. Plus, I wouldn’t mind having a baby sister around, especially if she takes after Mom.”
You were flattered and honored that Megumi felt this way while Toji was utterly offended at his own son.
Megumi is a good brother and son all over. He looks after you, he looks out for Tsumiki when he can, and has a good relationship with Toji. You’d think he’ll be an amazing older brother considering how caring and gentle he can be. He may be a little clumsy but he tries and that is what matters. 
You decided to bring Megumi and Tsumiki with you and Toji to your next ultrasound appointment. Luckily, no problems were detected for the precious Fushiguro baby. The doctor and technician also revealed that you were having a baby girl! Tsumiki is visibly happy, slightly shaking Megumi's shoulders while he had a soft smile of his own. Then you looked over at your husband to see him with a wide but genuine grin.
“What’s with the grin, Toji?”
“Nothing, Hon. Just thinking.”
“About what?”
“Having another girl to spoil~.”
Your pregnancy goes as planned. Much to the dismay of Megumi, you gave birth while they were in school. As soon as Megumi and Tsumiki walk out of the school doors, they see Toji with the car waiting for them. “C’mon you two, don’t ‘cha want to meet your baby sister?” Tsumiki never saw Megumi sprinted towards the car so fast, whipping past her. Toji just laughs at Megumi’s eagerness to go see you and the baby.
Megumi is bouncing his leg in the car as they go to drive to the hospital. Once checking in, Megumi leaves his dad and sister in the dust to go find your room. Once he did, Megumi knocked gently before going inside with Toji and Tsumiki not far behind. Then the kids see the little baby bundled in your arms, sleeping away as you greet your older children. 
Megumi was right because Mayumi took after you except her eye color, which was like Megumi and Toji. But everything else, she was a carbon copy of you. You joked to Toji about being even since your third child looks like you. Toji goes along with it but he can’t help but feel warm inside knowing he has a daily reminder of his beautiful wife.
Megumi and Tsumiki get to hold their little sister. It was game over for Megumi because as soon as she was in his arms, he’d do anything for her. He was melting for his little sister and she didn’t even know it yet.
Megumi tries to spend a lot of time with her until he has to dorm at Jujutsu Tech. Megumi gets sentimental when he sees her baby pictures then and now she’s a toddler speaking full sentences. 
She loves to be held or sitting in someone’s lap. You, Toji, Tsumiki and Megumi, it doesn’t matter. She just likes to be close. It took her a long time to understand personal space but she tries her best. But she mostly likes being held by Toji since he’s tall. Plus she says Toji gives nice hugs. 
But Mayumi is picky when it comes to other people. She gets comfortable through exposure but she doesn’t like other people that much. She knows the others and is fine with them, but she’s not so much a people person. Not shy, just like a small circle.
Mayumi calls Tsumiki Miki-Nee or Tsumi Nee-san, then Mayumi calls Megumi Gumi-Nii and/or Mimi Nii-san.
Toji’s nicknames for Mayumi are Princess, Little Lady, Sweet Pea, and Snapdragon. Sometimes he does a variation of her name like Yumi or Mayu. But those don’t start coming until she’s much older.
Toji gets bummed out that Mayumi hangs out with Megumi and is her self-proclaimed favorite person. But you always remind him that she loves all of you, including him. This is true when she gets picked up by Toji at daycare or Toji comes home and she greets him. Always a smile on her face, arms out-stretched, while saying “Papa!”
Every time Toji is doing something outside, she’s either playing on the engawa, underneath the tree for shade, or running around and playing in the garden and the Koi pond nearby. She mostly likes watching the koi fishes swim around. She even deeps her feet into the crystal blue water as the fish gently nibble on her feet.
She’s also not a picky eater. Will eat anything and everything put in front of her that is seen as food. Her favorites are berries.
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Mayumi’s favorite person is definitely Megumi. Toji thought it was him but he soon found out that was not the case. All because her first words weren’t Mama or Papa, her first words were Gumi. Then she started walking because she saw Megumi sitting on the couch while you were making lunch with Toji and took her first steps because she wanted to be near him. Sometimes when she can’t sleep, has a nightmare, or wants someone to take her to the bathroom, she usually goes to Megumi because his room is the closet. Some mornings, you would find Mayumi sleeping alongside Megumi. She usually hangs out in Megumi’s room doing her own thing or playing with his dogs. Megumi doesn’t mind but only gets annoyed when he’s napping or sleeping and she wakes him up. 
But she also hangs out in Tsumiki’s room too. Trying a new hairstyle, clothes, or playing with her stuffed animals. Tsumiki makes Mayumi into a Sanrio fan and even gives some of her plushies to Mayumi because she doesn’t play with them anymore. Every morning, Mayumi goes to Tsumiki to do her hair for the day. Sometimes asking Tsumiki to put a nice hair clip or bow for her. Mayumi’s so happy once she’s done that she shows you and Toji and it’s just so sweet oml.
She loves Megumi’s dogs and shikigamis. But her favorites are his white and black doggos. She loves playing and hugging them, always so gently with them. She likes to put ribbons on them like a collar and read to them. She would nap while laying on top of the white dog’s side and the black one is guarding her feet, making a protective circle around her. Then they allow her to grab onto them to help her practice walking. It’s so cute.
Mayumi knocks on doors before she enters. You don’t know where she picked it up from until you remember knocking on the doors yourself as you hold her. You assume she picked your habit, which turns out to be useful and courteous. It’s always three short knocks, keeping this habit even as a teenanger. 
Mayumi is the apple of the family’s eye and almost everyone, even for Yuuji, Nobara, Maki, Yuuta, Toge, Panda, and fucking Hakari and Kiara. They all have a soft spot for her. The worst of them all is Satoru, proclaiming he’s her big brother to which Suguru smacks him on the hand for it. He tries to win her over but his grand gift-giving actually scares her and makes her wary of him, much to Satoru’s dismay. To which goes to my next point:
Bro, your daughter doesn’t like Satoru. It’s high-key funny. She doesn’t hate him per say. She’s more scared and unsettled by him. One time, she started crying late at night because she had a nightmare. Megumi, with Mayumi in his arms, had to knock on your bedroom door because she was inconsolable and wouldn’t tell Megumi anything. Took all three of you, and eventually Tsumiki joined in, to calm her down. She was sniffling, burying her face into your neck, gripping her little hands as tightly as she could.
“Mayumi, Honey, do you feel a little better now?”
She nods into you but still holding on to you for dear life.
“Can you tell us what’s wrong? Please, Sweetheart?”
“White monster…The white monster with blue-eyes…Scary smile with pointing teeth…”
Tsumiki and Megumi looked at each other confused, you were just trying to figure out where she got that image from, while Toji held a frown before his eyes opened a bit upon realization. He has this goofy smile as he takes Mayumi from your arms and holds her in his own. Upon feeling being inside Toji’s arms, she instantly relaxes and looks up at him with a pout.
“So there’s a monster in your bedroom, Princess? You want me and your big brother Megumi to look for any monsters?”
She looks up at him with her little pout, sniffles, and nods her head quietly. Clutching to Toji like a Koala. Toji gets up with a grunt along with Megumi and they go into her room to look for the “monster”. Turning both the lights on and off along with Megumi bringing his dogs out. Mayumi watches the dogs sniff out her room, under her bed, and her closet.
“No monster, Gumi-Nii?”
Megumi pats her head softly.
“Yeah, no monsters in here, Mayumi.”
She’s still pouting even though Megumi confirmed no monsters while Toji rubs her back gently.
“Well Little Lady, you’re gonna sleep with Mama and I tonight so no monsters can get you. If there are, I’ll eat them.”
Mayumi giggles as he takes her into your shared bedroom to sleep peacefully for the night. Luckily she did as she snoozed away on his chest along with you tucked into his shoulder as your head rested on top of its side.
The next day, Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, Nanami, Haibara, and Yaga came to your house to talk about something. As they were discussing in your personal office, Mayumi knocks and she comes in to be held by you. While being held by you, you feel Mayumi shifting in your arms. You look down as she looks at Satoru with wary eyes. She clutches closer to you as she whines. Satrou looks over at her and smiles, causing her to hide into you further. By then, you noticed Satoru didn’t bring his blindfold. He brought his glasses instead so you could see the glimpses of his eyes. As soon Mayumi caught a glimpse of his eyes, she started getting uncomfortable and whining. You’re worried as you try to calm her down but nothing works. Then Toji comes in with the pitcher of water you asked for and she makes grabby hands at him. Your husband takes her in his arms and she points at Satoru while sniffling, making everyone, including you curious.
“What’s wrong this time, Mayumi?”
“Papa,” 
Points at Satoru
“White monster…big blue eyes and white teeth…that’s him…”
Everyone blinks a couple of times except for Toji who has his dastardly grin. Then the silence is broken by Suguru’s cackling followed by Haibara bursting out in laughter. Now you understand why Toji wasn’t so concerned about last night because he knew what Mayumi was talking about. The monster was random, she had a nightmare about Satoru. Nanami smirks while Yaga and Shoko chuckle at this. The only ones who weren’t anything were You and Satoru. You because you’re just shaking your head at Suguru, Toji, and Haibara. While Satoru looked like a hurt puppy that was kicked. You tried to comfort your unofficial oldest child but he just stayed hurt. He let out a sigh when he and your daughter made brief eye-contact before she hid herself in Toji, causing him to bark out in laughter. His laugh joined in with the other two. 
Toji calms down a bit before comforting Mayumi.
“Princess, that’s just Gojo. He’s not a scary monster, see? He’s harmless.”
Mayumi looks at Satoru before looking at you then Toji. She shakes her head at Toji causing him to chuckle. Mayumi says bye to everyone as she leaves the room with Toji. But Suguru wouldn’t stop teasing Satoru about it and it’s an inside joke everyone is in on.
So that’s why Satoru always wears his blindfold on because he doesn’t want to make Mayumi cry. As she gets older, she gets over it and funny enough doesn’t remember this event. No matter how much anyone brings it up, she can’t fully remember any of it. But their relationship gets better later on.
Though Mayumi’s humble, she’s spoiled. By you, Toji, Tsumiki, Megumi, your family, even Suguru and Satoru, specifically Satoru. Mayumi gets an allowance of 38,948 yen(which is roughly equivalent to $250 US dollars) from Satoru every month, and that’s not including holidays and birthdays. Toji and Satoru are fighting each other on who’s better at spoiling her to which you have to calm them down because it shouldn’t be a big deal.
Mayumi gets all sad and pouty when Megumi has to live on campus but Megumi promises to call frequently or visit once a week for her. Megumi gives her his old plushies of his twin dogs, telling her to hug them when she feels like missing him. Because of that, she is overly attached to them. She sleeps with them, goes to the bathroom with them, brings them outside to the garden, goes out, they come with her everywhere she goes.
Megumi hangs a drawing she made of him and Mayumi with his dogs in his dorm room. Also has a picture frame of him and her on his desk too.
When Megumi brings Yuuji and Nobara over, they always want to play with her. Nobara dresses her up while Yuuji shadow boxes with her. When they come over to sleep over, it’s twice the fun. Yuuji and Nobara get bummed out when it’s her bedtime but they remember they see her in the morning so it’s all good.
They also help Megumi watch and babysit her when you and Toji are out on a date/outing. It’s chaotic but it’s fun.
Toji and Megumi will be irritated and annoyed when someone, other than you and Tsumiki, asks them for anything Gojo. But once Mayumi starts asking for things, they won’t even bat an eye. She is spoiled by both her grumpy older brother and menacing father. One time you came home to see your daughter gleefully smiling at you, holding her plushie tightly as she told you about what she did with Toji and Megumi. Then you look over to see your son and husband wearing bows on their heads and had sanrio stickers all over them.
Mayumi’s such a bubbly and happy child that it’s like looking straight at the sun. Of course, she takes after you mostly both in personality and physical traits. It’s not until she’s in teens when Toji’s traits start revealing themselves in her.
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Imagine meeting Rob Lucci again on Egghead Island
Warning: Contains spoilers! If you aren't caught up in the Egghead arc and don't want spoilers, don't read.
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Rob: [tied up and unconscious on the floor of Vegapunk's lab]
You: [glaring at him from the other side of the room]
Stussy: Oh my, that's quite a scary look. It's almost like you know him.
You: I do know him, or at least I thought I did... A little over two years ago I lived on Water 7 where I worked for an engineering firm, and had a life, and a boyfriend.
Stussy: {looks shocked and points at Rob] Was he your boyfriend?
You: Yup, but I got transferred here shortly before he tried to kill Iceberg, who is my adoptive father. We used to exchange letters, and then one day they just stopped, and then three weeks later I got a letter from Iceberg that explained everything.
Stussy: That must have come as quite a shock.
Kaku: [wakes up] what the? [looks around, before cringing away when he notices you] oh dear.
You: [glares] Is that all you have to say to me?
Kaku: Listen, it was just a job, it wasn't personal.
You: Really? Because trying to murder members of my family feels really personal to me, buddy.
Kaku: [Nods to Robin] Technically, she shot Iceberg.
Robin: I shot him the first time, and I didn't feel I had another choice because you were threatening my friends and I didn't know what to do.
You: The second time was Blueno, and then you and Rob beat Paulie, and then left both Iceburg and Paulie tied up inside a burning building!
Kaku: we did do that, didn't we...
You: not to mention Rob played with my feelings by pretending to be a loving boyfriend.
Kaku: I swear that wasn't pretended Lucci really does love~
Rob: That's enough, Kaku.
You: You can talk! Why am I surprised, everything was a lie, wasn't it?
Rob: .... not everything [looks up at you, clearly pouting that he's being admonished]
You: I don't believe you.
Rob: ... can we discuss this in private, please?
You: no, we can't, I do not want to be alone with the World Noble's attack dog.
Rob: I'm a cat.
You: Excuse me?
Rob: I am a Zoan-type devil fruit user, the Neko Neko no Mi, Model: Leopard, specifically.
You: I don't care, because then you're just plain bad at being a cat.
Rob: Bad at being a cat!
You: yes, because if you knew a damn thing about cats, then you'd know you don't ever actually own a cat, you just live with one. They don't listen, they don't obey, and they most certainly don't respect you. So, I suppose, you were good at being a cat when it came to me, but bad when it comes to the world nobles.
Rob: That's not true...
You: save it, I don't want to hear your excuses.
Rob: [Takes a deep breath] They're not excuses, it's true I got close to you in the first place because of Iceberg, but I grew genuine feelings for you once I got to know you. I know I hurt you, it's why I stopped writing you after what happened in Water 7.
Nami: And because his ego was bruised because our captain whooped his ass.
Kaku: He was also in a coma for like a week afterward.
Rob: I figured by then you would have already had word from Water 7 of what happened, so I didn't want to rub salt into the wounds by trying to stay in your life, and that a clean cut was best for you.
You: [remembering that Iceberg had said he wouldn't be upset with you if you elected to stay with Rob] ... Where is Hattori?
Rob: what?
You: Where is Hattori?
Rob: He flew away when Stussy attacked.
You: I'll go get him...
Rob: [smirks[ thank you, I'm sure he'll be happy to see you again. Although he might not recognize you, you've glowed up since your Water 7 days. [winks]
You: [rolls your eyes] I know single life suits me, so save your smooth talk tough guy, it doesn't work on me [lying].
Rob: uh huh
You: [feels your cheeks heat up as your heart flutters, and you avoid eye contact with Lucci] Whatever, I'll go look for your bloody bird.
Rob: [eagerly watches the door slide shut behind you] It's still there
Stussy: What's still there?
Rob: I believe most people call it, "a spark between us'.
Nami: [dramatically gags]
Kaku: Dude, they always liked Hattori more than you, don't go getting a head of yourself.
Rob: [kicks him] zip it.
Stussy: [sighs] men are so stupid.
Robin: [nods in agreement]
Shaka: [judges in silence]
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List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon
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puck-luck · 5 months
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Forever yearning for a jealous, dominant Luke Hughes. I mean spitting in your mouth, edging, mirror sex, etc. I need the filthy, down bad luke.
Scenario: maybe you’re becoming close with one of the other players (completely innocent-just forming a friendship) but Luke doesn’t see it as that way…
👉🏻👈🏻
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warnings (in no particular order): spit(!!), jealousy, dom!luke, edging, mirror sex, one (1!) slap to the face just for the enjoyment of my friend jo, spanking, drinking (technically underage hiii luke turn 21 already stop being lame), beating yourself up, pet names and nicknames as FUCK (always bro do y’all even know me), road head, face fucking, unprotected p in v, dare i say breeding kink, implied subspace, allusion to size kink (probably established size kink to be fair), I THINK THAT’S IT BUT I’M NOT SURE! pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader summary: the one when luke gets jealous at the bar and doles out a bit of a punishment (code: luke is insecure about his performance on the ice, so when his gf starts talking with another teammate who is her friend, he gets jealous and feels like he has to prove himself by making her feel good, but he’s still a dom bc HOTTTT) wc: 6416
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The Devils’ last game of the season was at home this year. There was no chance that they would make the playoffs and Jack was out in Colorado for his shoulder surgery, plus Luke’s parents weren’t able to make it from Michigan for his final rookie game. He was depending on you to be there, so there you were. You were cheering, you were yelling at the officials when they missed a call, you were laughing at Luke when he took a trademarked Hughes spill on the ice with barely anyone around him. Yeah, you were disappointed at the end of the game when the Islanders won (and it wasn’t even close), but it was just one game. It wasn’t the end of the world. It was a disappointment, but it wasn’t life-changing.
Luke, however, was much more upset with their performance when you met up with him after the game. He drove the two of you to the bar where the team was meeting for one last celebration before the off-season and he tried, he really did, to keep his complaints inside. He was stewing, just letting it well up inside of him and fester in the silence between you, until it spilled over.
“It should have been a better game,” Luke finally said, the harsh edge in his tone rubbing you in all the wrong ways. “We could’ve done more. If I had just–”
“Lu, baby,” you interrupted, voice soft. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I was out there the longest, other than Jake,” Luke argued. “They depend on me and I let them down.”
“You were only on the ice for one goal, Lu. You couldn’t have done anything about at least the other three.”
Your statement was not something he wanted to hear. Your boyfriend, sweet as he was, always saw the best in everyone else and the worst in himself. Where he could have been blaming Brendan for the loss, since Brendan was on the ice for three of the four goals, he was instead blaming himself. He was never one to hold a grudge against his teammates or his friends or his family, which was part of the reason why you were so in love with him.
He grunted instead of giving you a real response, but you knew it was coming from a place of knowing you’re right but still feeling hurt.
“I love you,” you told him, just a reminder that his performance would never affect your affection towards him. 
“I love you too,” Luke replied, and you two fell back into silence. It was less tense this time, but his shoulders were still tense and he was frowning, almost pouting. He was so pretty, even now, but you hated how this expression marred his face.
When you pulled up to the bar, you were met by Luke’s teammates. While some of the men had gone home after the game, it was mostly the ones who had families. You knew their wives and girlfriends would have encouraged them to go out with the team rather than stay home with the kids, but you understood. If Luke had wanted to go straight home after the game, you would’ve gone with him and cuddled him until you fell asleep.
“Do you want to get out and get me a drink, baby, while I find parking?” Luke asked, always so considerate. 
“Yeah,” you agreed easily, leaning over the center console to peck his lips before you left the car. 
Waiting outside the entrance of the bar, Nico and John smiled as you got out of the car and walked over to them. You hugged each of them before entering the bar, Nico walking in ahead of you and John following you with a hand on your back. 
It didn’t mean anything to you or to John, but when Luke watched John guide you into the bar before he drove away to search for a parking spot, something sharp and green poked at his heart.
Luke finally made his way into the bar about ten minutes after you walked in, and your face had lit up when you saw him like it had been much longer. He didn’t see you at first, so you had the chance to watch him scan the room. His brow was furrowed as he scanned each person’s features. You knew that he was trying to spot you without looking for the other boys at first, but it was proving difficult with how crowded the room had become.
Timo appeared at his side and patted Luke’s shoulder in greeting. Luke talked to him for a minute before Timo pointed your way. Luke’s face split with a smile when he saw you and he gave Timo a pat before beelining towards you.
You looped your arms around Luke’s neck when he joined you, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him.
“Gross,” Nico complained from next to you. “It’s only been a few minutes since you’ve seen each other.”
“You’re not in love,” Luke replied, snarky and sarcastic like he tended to be when it wasn’t just the two of you. He then turned to you. “Where’s my drink?”
“What a priority,” you teased, rolling your eyes at him. He pinched your side. “I sent Johnny to go get it.”
Luke’s expression changed for a split second before he schooled his features. You wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t so in tune with his emotions, experience that comes only after years of dating a person. 
You let it go, knowing that it can’t be too important, or Luke would have said something. He knew you were friends with guys on the team. After being around them for almost a year, having moved out here with Luke at the start of his rookie year, it was bound to happen. Plus, Luke wasn’t the jealous type. He knew that you loved him and you’d love him forever, saying yes in a second if he chose to propose.
But to him, there was something about the way you said “Johnny” instead of John. It was that and John’s hand on your back as he guided you into the bar, on top of an already hard night, that had Luke questioning himself.
“I asked him to get you a rum and coke,” you said, tilting your head up to poke Luke’s nose with your own. “Is that okay?”
“It sounds good, thank you,” Luke replied. 
You resume conversation with Nico, turning to face him but staying tucked into Luke’s side. He had a hand on your hip and the other accepted the drink that John handed Luke when he returned. He nursed it quietly for a while, engaging in conversation here and there, but mostly just enjoying his time with his friends. 
The game was the last time that his whole team would be together like that, but this night out was the last time that his team, his friends, would be together in the way that mattered. Even if no one was traded, if no one changed in the slightest (except Jack, coming back from injury), things still wouldn’t be quite the same. It wouldn’t be his second year, his presence wouldn’t be new or exciting. He would have to try harder, do better, and be consistent to show that he wasn’t just an example of beginner’s luck.
He clutched you a little tighter to his side at that thought. He was comforted by the way that you melted into him, moving to lean back against his chest. Your hand covered his and the other polished off your drink. He took the empty cup from you and kissed your cheek before pulling away to toss your cup, and his, in the trash can behind him.
When he returned, he was taken aback by the sight before him.
You had stepped forward and were carding your fingers through John’s curls and Luke saw red before he saw the thoughtful look on your face. John had just said to you and Nico that he thought his hair was getting too long, too unruly. You didn’t agree– it was a good length, the curls were just settling into their shapes.
“I don’t think you should cut it, John,” you were saying before Luke grabbed your other wrist and yanked you towards him. “Luke!” You exclaimed, startled by the movement.
“Time to go,” Luke announced, loud enough that the other boys could hear. He clutched your wrist, not your hand, your wrist, and pulled you along as he stomped toward the exit.
“Luke, what is going on?” You asked, voice resounding in your ears like it’s much louder than it actually is. 
Luke kept walking like he didn’t even hear you, pushing through the door and leading you down the block to the car. He opened your door for you and helped you in, but he slammed it shut once you were buckled into your seat. He rounded the car and opened his own door, glaring at you in a passing glance before settling into the driver’s seat.
“Lu,” you implored, pressing your hands against the top of your thighs. 
When he didn’t reply, you tried again.
“Babe, talk to me–”
“I don’t want you to speak unless you’re spoken to,” Luke said. He refused to look at you. “You think you can touch John’s hair the way you touch mine? You’ll let him guide you into the bar the way I would? I’m not enough for you, huh, baby?”
You blinked, suddenly shifting up to sit a little straighter. Luke, your sweet angel Luke, the baby of his family who would never hurt a fly, who avoided hockey fights at every cost, had flipped his switch.
“Answer me. I asked you a question.”
“No, sir,” you said. Your eyes flickered down to where Luke’s knuckles were white with how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. You inhaled sharply as you made eye contact with the veins decorating the back of his hand.
“No?” Luke repeated, mocking. “I’m not enough for you?”
“No! Lu, you’re more than enough, you know you’re the only one I need.” Your words came out scrambled and you tripped over them. 
Luke clicked his tongue, disapproval written all over his face. “Can’t even speak, can you?” He scoffed, reached down with one hand, and popped the button on his jeans. “Let’s put your mouth to a better use until you can find your words.”
“You’re driving,” you pointed out, casting a worried look at the road ahead of you.
“It wasn’t a question,” Luke threw you a glance. He looked back at the road, then back to you, this time holding your gaze. He cocked his head to the side, eyes softening for a moment. “Was it?”
“No,” you breathed out. 
“Good girl.” A smile spread over Luke’s face and he turned back to the road. “Get to it.”
You clenched your thighs together and unbuckled your seatbelt so you could twist towards Luke and lean over the center console. You reached out to unzip his pants, but he knocked your hands away.
“I didn’t say use your hand. I said,” he paused, grabbing your hair and tilting your head up so your eyes met his, “Use your mouth.”
The noise that escaped you was involuntary. You moved forward that extra inch and carefully took Luke’s zipper in your mouth, dragging it down. His boxers were revealed by the action, but that was the extent of it. 
“Come on,” Luke encouraged, growing impatient. What you couldn’t see from your position was the smug tilt of his mouth, knowing there was no way to get his cock out of his pants with just your mouth. “Take it out.”
“Can’t,” you whimpered.
“Oh, you can’t?” Luke mocked, feigning sympathy. “Poor baby needs my help, yeah?”
You nodded and hummed an agreement.
Luke’s grip tightened on your hair and he gave it a sharp tug. “Use your manners.”
“Please, Lu, help me,” you conceded.
“Help you what?”
“Help me take your cock out so I can suck you, please, sir.” Your voice was close to breaking, you were itching to get your mouth on him and make him feel good. 
Luke obliged, revealing himself to you. You opened your mouth and he pumped himself twice just to tease you before slapping the lip of his cock on the flat of your tongue. He fed you his cock, returning his hand to your hair when you had taken as much of his length in your mouth as you could. He gathered your hair into a messy ponytail with his one hand, the other still on the wheel, and began to guide your head up and down. 
You gagged when he guided you to his base, nose touching the fabric of his boxers around his cock, but the groan he let out made the discomfort worth it. It was low and desperate, just pure relief.
“Wanna fuck your mouth,” Luke breathed out, pulling you up so just the tip of his cock remained in your mouth. 
You hollowed your cheeks and sucked, swiping your tongue over his slit and relishing in the taste of his precum in your mouth. 
He moaned aloud, the sound seeming to echo throughout the car. You could feel your heartbeat in your fingertips. You let out a sigh, suddenly overwhelmed with contentment for your situation. Luke was perfect. He was the perfect boyfriend, whether he was his soft and cuddly self or this dominant version of him that wasn’t afraid to tell you what to do, to communicate what he wanted. 
“Would if I weren’t driving, too,” Luke mumbled, mostly to himself. “Fuck, baby, make me come. You know how.”
Luke returned both hands to the steering wheel and allowed you to move your head freely, to go at your own pace. You bobbed your head with enthusiasm, spit dripping down his shaft and soaking the fabric around him. You gagged at times, but the tight squeeze of your throat around him just added to Luke’s pleasure. He wasn’t shy about telling you how good you felt, either, making you more determined to make him come.
“Fuck, pull off,” Luke said, his voice a little shaky.
You couldn’t. You couldn’t, not when he was so close. The idea of having his come in your mouth, on your tongue, the manifestation of how you made him feel, was too alluring. 
“Y/N, pull off,” Luke commanded, reaching down to yank you off of him by your hair. He clenched his jaw as he held you just far enough off his cock that you thought, with just one bump in the road, you could capture it again. He steered out of the lane and parked on the side of the road. “You don’t want to listen? You’re so cockdumb that you can’t follow my orders?”
All you could do was look at him, eyes wide. 
He spoke through his teeth, never once blinking or breaking eye contact. “Since you want me inside you so bad, I’m gonna fuck your mouth until I come. You’re gonna take it. Even if you gag, even if you cry, I’m not going to stop until I come. Then, you’re going to sit back and buckle yourself in and I’m going to finish driving us home. You will not swallow. You’re going to hold my come in your mouth until I say so. Do you understand?”
Your jaw dropped at the words, the tips of your ears growing hot. “Yes, sir.” It’s nearly inaudible and you can feel your panties growing damper with just the thought of it– minute after minute ticking by, Luke’s come coating your tongue, not being able to speak or swallow. You’re completely under Luke’s control.  
He leaned back in the seat and motioned toward his cock. 
You allowed him to guide you onto his length again, getting comfortable with its size. You hollowed your cheeks and looked up at him, pausing your movements and staying statue-still.
A smirk took over Luke’s face. “That’s my girl.”
He took your head with both hands, keeping your hair out of your face and keeping you from moving an inch, and began to thrust into your mouth. It was sharp and hard and you tried to create a vacuum-type suction around his cock, as tight as you knew he liked it, but it was hard with the head of his dick hitting the back of your throat with every buck of his hips. You ended up gagging, and crying, and drooling all over his cock, just like Luke had said, and he fulfilled his promise that he wouldn’t stop.
“Look at you, making such a mess of yourself,” Luke scoffed. “Such a mess all over my cock, just to make me feel good. You’d let me do whatever I wanted, wouldn’t you, baby? You’d never let anyone else take you like this, just me, yeah? No one else gets to see you just leaking all over my cock because you’re mine.”
Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at that and the moan you released around Luke’s length caused his hips to stutter, made him unable to hold back his orgasm any longer. He came in stripes all over your tongue, some of it leaking down the back of your throat before you could stop it. He pulled you off of him and crashed his lips against yours, a close-mouthed kiss because you wouldn’t dare disobey, couldn’t handle the idea of disappointing Luke.
“My good girl,” Luke cooed when he pulled away.
You offered him a lazy smile, head foggy and bones mushy. You were sated, an elevated version of just happy, and so, so comfortable. You loved him. He was everything.
“I’m not done with you yet, am I?” Luke asked softly, thumbing over your bottom lip. 
You shook your head.
“Open,” Luke said. “I want to see my come on your tongue.”
You hesitantly opened your mouth, pushing your tongue out so he could see the milky white substance coating the muscle. 
Luke captured your cheeks with one hand and leaned in with the other holding your head in place. You stared at his eyes, which were watching your tongue as a line of his saliva mixed with the come in your mouth. When his eyes rose to meet yours, it was the embers of desire that made your head roll back and the instinct, the pure instinct of having something in your mouth, that caused you to swallow.
Your head snapped forward, eyes wide and not doe-eyed, not purposefully innocent to make Luke’s heart jump. No, your eyes were wide with worry because you disobeyed him. It wasn’t something you did to spite him or push him further over the line. 
“I’m sorry.” The words leaked from your mouth and you scrambled to take Luke’s hand in yours, clutching his right with both of yours. “Luke, it was an accident, you know I’d never–”
His mouth was open in shock, briefly, before it snapped shut and his eyes twinkled with something downright predatory. His hand was limp in yours (though not pulling away) and he was still.
“But you did,” He interrupted. “You did.”
“I didn’t mean to.” You were trying to reason with him, but you knew the damage was done. Whatever he had planned for you when you got back to the house, it was going to be ten times worse now.
Luke just shook his head and removed his hand from your grasp, pulling back onto the highway and resuming the drive home. You weren’t far, the area around you looking more and more familiar with each passing second. The minutes stretched for what seemed like hours with Luke’s silence. You held your own hand nervously, pinching at the skin of you knuckles and avoiding Luke’s face. You couldn’t handle seeing the disappointment etched into his features.
Luke pulled into the garage of the apartment complex after just about five minutes. Suddenly, it hits you– you have the apartment all to yourselves tonight. There’s nothing to stop Luke, or you for that matter, from being as loud or as public as he wants. There’s a window in the living room, one that Luke mentioned after your last session. A spark traveled up your spine when you realize that tonight might be the night that he fucks you out in the open, for anyone to see.
When he shifted the car into park, Luke turned to you expectantly.
You apologized again, softly, once he looked at you.
His features softened then, seeing your apprehension. He reached out and took your hand. “Are you okay?”
“I feel bad that I didn’t listen,” you replied. Your eyes fell on your shoelaces, which were an off-white color after plenty of use. You made a note to yourself that maybe you should wash them soon. You wondered if they’d return to their original color. The shoes were much more interesting than looking up at Luke and meeting his eyes.
He tilted your head upward with a guided hand anyway. “You’re still my good girl,” he reassured. “Are you okay to keep going? Or do you want me to stop? I won’t be mad. Whatever you want, we can do it. We can leave this in the car and I can take care of you, baby.”
You could cry at his words, how great he is about your slip-up. You did want him to be sweet, but you knew that he needed this. He needed to work through whatever was going on in his mind and if he could just be in control of this, just for a little while longer, it would be so much easier for him later.
“I want to keep going,” you admitted.
“You know your word?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Tell me?”
“Flower.”
“That’s right, baby.” Luke pecked your lips, but when he pulled back he was back to business. “Now, are you ready to listen to me?”
You nodded, eyes trained on his. Neither of you blinked, a silent contest that he ended up losing (something that would normally cause you to gloat, but now doesn’t seem like the right time).
“When you get to the apartment, you’re going to strip. You’re going to sit on the edge of our bed. You’re going to touch yourself while you wait for me and I want you to watch yourself in the mirror. If you come, and you know I’ll know if you do, you’re not going to come at all tonight. I want you to bring yourself right to the edge and stay there. Can you do that for me?” He spoke slowly and clearly, his voice gravely and dominant. He didn’t stumble over his words or pause and “um” like he did in interviews. No, this was when Luke was at his surest. This was when he knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say.
“I can do that,” you agreed, unbuckling your seatbelt and gathering your things.
“I’m going to give you a five minute head start.”
You nodded at Luke, opened your door, and left the vehicle. When you got up to the apartment, you didn’t bother to hang your coat or purse on the hooks Luke put up just for you. You didn’t put your shoes neatly like the door like you normally did. Instead, you dropped your belongings and kicked the shoes off one by one on your walk to the bedroom. You shed your clothing in a similar manner, leaving a trail behind for Luke to chuckle at when he walked in the door. 
Fully naked, you stared at yourself in the mirror that faced your bed. You read once that it was bad luck to have a mirror face a bed, that your reflection could like… capture your soul, or something, but you kept the mirror there anyway because if there was anything Luke enjoyed, it was seeing himself fuck you in the mirror. He liked to watch you ride him in reverse cowgirl, so he could see your ass jiggle as you bounced on his cock with his own eyes and your whole body in the reflection. 
Sometimes, his hands would drift up and he would hold your tits, watching how he could envelop them in his palms. You tilt your head to the side, watching your own hands slide up your body to do the same. 
For everything you could imagine Luke doing, there your hands were trying to satisfy yourself. If you closed your eyes, you could convince yourself that it was him instead.
His cock would disappear into your pussy, thrusting in and out and causing you to whine. His fingers would circle your clit or pinch your nipples. He would palm your ass, or reach up to wrap his hand around your neck. He would reach just that spot…
You didn’t ever hear it when Luke opened the door and joined you in the room. He thought you knew he was coming, with the way you were whining his name and begging for him. Your eyes snapped open as he closed the door behind him and you quickly pulled your fingers out from inside of you.
Luke walked over to you and sank onto his knees between your legs. “Gimme a taste, love.”
You offered him your fingers, which he took into his mouth. He sucked on them softly for far too short a time, in your opinion, with the way his cheekbones became more prominent as he cleaned your fingers of your wetness.
“Tastes good,” he told you with a smile when he was finished. 
“Thank you,” you replied, practically a whimper. Your chest felt tight, like someone was squeezing your heart in your chest. You were waiting, just waiting, for Luke to tell you what was next.
He rose to sit on the bed next to you, guiding you to shift over so you were sitting on his lap. “I’m going to spank you,” he whispered against your lips. “Just ten times. That’s all. It’ll go fast, but I’m not going to go easy on you. I know you can take it.” Luke kissed you again, snuck his tongue into your mouth for a quick, far too quick pass, before pulling back. “Turn over, baby, and lean over my knee, yeah?”
Your movements were slow, your brain turning foggy again like it was in the car. Luke helped you over his knee, still clothed. The contrast between how clothed he was and how naked you were almost made you drool. It was nearly embarrassing, being this down bad for Luke when he seemed to be completely fine, unaffected.
Luke snapped you out of your thoughts with a spank. The pain was only there for a split second before Luke was rubbing soothing circles over your skin. You shivered when he dipped his hand lower and trailed a finger through your folds.
“So wet,” he murmured.
You clenched down and he pulled away, only to deliver a second slap to your cheek. You shivered, goosebumps rising over your arms.
“So, baby, tell me,” Luke began, bringing down his hand again. “Why am I spanking you?” He waited for you to answer before bringing his hand down again. “Because I swallowed– oh– when you told me not to.”
“Mhm. Why else?”
Another spank. Now, it was starting to sting. Your ass had turned a pretty shade of pink that caused Luke to bite his lip and run his hands over your skin, feeling the heat radiate off the surface.
You were quiet. You weren’t quite sure. Holding his come in your mouth had been the punishment for not pulling off when he told you to. You had been slow to say please in the car, but that wasn’t ever something Luke would punish you for, just something he’d remind you to do. “For, um…” You trailed off, not sure what to say.
Luke scoffed and spanked you three times, harsh enough that his handprint stayed imprinted on your body for longer than it normally did when he spanked you. You cried out, your head dropping and tears welling up in your eyes. 
“‘For, um,’” he mocked. “You don’t know? You’re that fucking dumb that you can’t remember what happened less than an hour ago?”
“Lu, please,” were the words that escaped your mouth instead of an answer to his question. They were teary and he almost stopped, almost, just because of how your voice shook. 
“Please what?” He spat, another slap echoing throughout the room. 
“I don’t know,” You sobbed. “I don’t know why you’re mad at me.”
“Five more,” Luke warned you and you nodded. 
It took a lot out of you, agreeing for five more, but Luke wouldn’t do anything he didn’t think you could handle.
“How about this, baby?” Luke said. Slap. “For touching John’s hair the same way you touch mine?” Slap. “For letting the boys guide you into the restaurant like you’re their girlfriend, not mine.” Slap. “For sending John off to get me a drink when I told you to do so?” Slap. “For not listening?” Slap. “For being a fucking brat?”
You wailed, slumped against Luke. He got a good look at you in the mirror, boneless over his knee. He took in the red skin of your ass, tracing the line of his raised handprint. 
“You’re mine,” Luke continued, sounding off. You turned your head towards the mirror, eyes hazy but still able to make him out. He was waiting for you to look at him, for your eyes to meet his. “You can’t– you can’t treat him like he’s special.”
And suddenly, it all clicked. Luke was jealous because he was scared of the same thing you’d skated around in your conversation right after the game. Luke wanted to be special, wanted you to see him and need him. He needed you to need him, to let him take control and take care of you and decide things for you, all because he didn’t want to be the person who lost everything because he wasn’t good enough. Even the idea that John could possibly take Luke’s place, as preposterous as it was to you, sent Luke into a spiral.
“Fuck me, Luke,” you said, voice shaky and light because of the headspace you were in. “Take me. I’m yours. Prove it.”
Gently, so gently in contrast to his prior actions, Luke helped you up and lay you down on your back on the bed, placing a pillow under your hips. You lay there for a few minutes, blinking slowly and watching as Luke shed his clothes and rummaged through his dresser drawers for something. His back was to you and you smiled to yourself, too fucked out to let out a giggle, at his backside. When Luke turned around, two of his gameday ties in hand, he cocked his head to the side at your smile.
“What are you smiling about?” He asked.
“Boy butts are so funny,” You answered. “They’re just so small. Like… where are your hips, Lu?”
Luke blinked a few times, then shook his head. “Oh my God, you’ve lost it.”
“I’ve been thinking it. We need to get you in the gym.”
“You’re being a brat.”
“And your butt is small.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Luke scoffed. He had walked to the bed and was tying one of your hands to his headboard.
“I’m waiting.”
Luke huffed out a laugh at your response. “You’re making it hard to dom you, baby.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, was the road head not enough?”
Luke shushed you, moving to your other hand and tying that one with the other tie.
“What about the spitting in my mouth and spanking me?” You continue, goading him. 
Luke crawled up your body, kissing up your stomach and chest and neck as he went. 
One more sentence, and he wouldn’t find it so difficult to dominate you for this final stretch. 
He’s hovering over your lips, his breath fanning out over them.
“I bet Johnny could do it better.”
Luke pulled back, jaw dropped. His mouth returned to a strait line and his eyes turned murderous. There it was, there’s the dominance that he thought he lost.
 You smirked at him, proud of yourself for the comment you made, until Luke’s palm made contact with your cheek. Your head turned with the impact and you swore your heart stopped. You were too surprised to say anything. As the seconds of silence passed where you and Luke just stared at each other, same shocked expression on your face, you realized: huh. That’s not so different from when he spanks me.
Then, another second after that: That was kind of… hot.
“Are you okay?” Luke breathed out. He’s practically frozen in place.
“Yeah,” you replied. “Oh my God, Luke, yeah.” You pulled on the restraints above you, itching to get him inside of you. You circled your legs around his waist and raised your hips, trying to make contact with him. “Fuck, Lu, that was so hot, please fuck me.”
Luke blinked twice and searched your face for any discomfort, anything that would show him that you were upset or hurt by his slap. He hadn’t even done it intentionally, just driven by the pure rage of you mentioning John, saying that John could be better for you than Luke was.
It wasn’t until your wiggling hips caused his cock to make contact with your weeping pussy that he began to move.
He started by pinning your hips down.
“Greedy,” he chastised. 
“I need you in me, don’t treat me like I’m made of glass,” you whined.
Luke positioned himself at your entrance and snapped his hips forward, burying himself inside you in one fell swoop.
It knocked all the breath out of you. Even after dating Luke for ages, his size still surprised you.
“How’s that, huh? Can you feel me? Do you think I’m treating you gently?” Luke asked, grinding his teeth as he fucked in and out of you. His skin was slapping against yours and he moved one of our legs so your knee was thrown over his shoulder. “You think Marino could fuck you like this?” He practically spat out John’s name, disgust coating each syllable.
“Probably,” you quipped, your voice snarky. You were itching for Luke to slap you again, or something, because he wasn’t giving it everything. He was still shaken up by the fact that he hit you at all.
“‘Probably,’” He repeated, incredulous. “You’ll never know, will you, baby?” He snaps his hips harder, faster. “This is my pussy. It only gets wet for me, you only spread your legs for me, you can be a slut all you want but only in the confines of these four walls. You can be bad, only right here… where I’m able to fuck. it. out. of you.”
You moan, wanton and long in the back of your throat. Your hands are aching to grab his hair, to twist the curls between your fingers. “Lu, my hand,” you told him.
“What about it?” He asked, not slowing his pace.
“Untie it, please!”
Luke looked down at you, confused. “Why?”
You whined, keening as your back arched and you squeezed his cock. “Need to get a hand on you, Lu, fuck. Wanna pull your hair. So pretty, so much prettier than John’s.”
“Oh,” he whispered, his stomach turning. He reached up to undo the knot, trying to continue to fuck you and untie it at the same time. When your hand came free, it immediately found purchase in his curls. Your fingernails scraped his scalp and his eyes rolled in the back of his head as he bucked into you with uncoordinated thrusts. “Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned. “Gonna make me come.”
“Please,” you begged. “Inside me, inside me–”
Your vision went white and your pussy was like a vice around him as you came.
“Yeah, yeah,” Luke agreed, voice strained. He watched the bliss wash over your features and whined. “Fuck you til you’re full, show everyone you’re all mine.” 
It’s the thought of pumping his seed into you, making you round with his child, that sends Luke over the edge. No one would think to take you from him then, not that you’d ever go. No one would ever be able to call you theirs like he could call you his, not when he’s fucked you full, not when you’re carrying his baby.
“So perfect for me,” Luke mumbled in your ear, collapsing on top of you as he came down from his orgasm. 
“Just for you, Lu.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.” You paused, rubbing his back. “You know we have to talk about this, right? You’re more than enough and I don’t want you to feel insecure anymore.”
Luke pulled himself out of you, wincing at the sensitivity. “Can we talk about it tomorrow? I think we could both use some rest.”
He got up from the bed and walked into his bathroom, grabbing a towel and coming back to wipe you clean. 
“Can it wait that long?” You fixed him with a look of concern.
“Baby.” Luke cut his eyes at you, then finished wiping you down. “It can wait until tomorrow.”
You shrugged. “Okay,” you agreed, then made yourself comfortable, pulling the covers over your body. You turned over, back to Luke, and spoke like it was an afterthought. “I loved it when you slapped me, you know.”
Luke groaned, leaned over to give you a kiss on your cheek. “I’m sorry I was mean.”
“Mmm, mean Luke gets me hot just like sweet Luke,” you replied. You turned your head and kissed his lips. “I like sweet Luke more, though. Sweet Luke cuddles me while I’m asleep.”
Luke laughed, going to toss the dirty towel in the dirty clothes hamper. “Sweet Luke will be back to cuddle you after he brushes his teeth,” he said.
When he returned, your breath was even and you had already fallen asleep, the ghost of a smile still gracing your lips. Luke bit his tongue, joined you under the covers, and threw his arm over the curve of your waist. Within just a few minutes, he was fast asleep next to you, softly snoring with his nose pressed into your hair.
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notes: so, I, uh..... got a little carried away. I just kept having ideas. And I hope it worked out for me, to be fair. Hiiiiiii anon I hope this was good for youuuu love you bigggg I felt so awky-tawky writing some of this because as much as I would looooove a man to treat me like this, it feels so silly to write. Anyway. Loving y'all.
SEND MORE REQUESTS! I'LL GET TO THEM EVENTUALLY (they might not all be this long LOLLL)
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tender-rosiey · 2 years
Note
Hello. Can I ask imagine (or headcannons, if it would be more convenient for you) for Mori Ogai, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol (separately) and their fem!s/o? Their child is jealous of his mother (s/o) to his father and tries to take all the attention of his mother to himself. Please.
“PAPA GET AWAY FROM MAMA!”
— your child being jealous of dazai, fyodor, chuuya, nikolai and kunikida
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a/n: I do hope that this is what you wanted and that you like it <;33
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DAZAI OSAMU:
dazai never thought he would be bestowed the blessing or the bliss of having a family, but here he is. he has you wrapped in his arms and he is certain that nothing could feel better than this.
however, it is eerily quiet in this household and osamu guesses it’s because the little devil is asleep, the little devil being his son.
his son looks exactly like you, but my god if the kid doesn’t have the same amount of love dazai has for you then dazai doesn’t know what does he have.
the kid never lets him have his time alone with you and for some reason is genuinely upset whenever you and dazai hug or kiss.
that’s why dazai is making the most out of his time today.
he starts pressing kisses to your shoulder, “it’s been a while, right, belladonna?” your fingers find their way through his hair and dazai smiles instantly, “my pretty wife.”
alas, good things don’t last because the both of your are snapped from your sweet moment by the offended and sob-filled screech of your son.
the kid is balling his eyes out at the scene and starts screaming, “GET AWAY FROM MOMMY!”
dazai’s eyes widen; however, before he responds, you push him away and run to your son to coddle him and calm him down.
dazai pouts but lets it go because his son probably needs the hug.
but, what dazai didn’t expect was that his son would grin and stick his tongue out at his dad.
dazai is flabbergasted, but smiles back.
“she was and is my wife before being your mom,” he whispers and winks pointing at the ring on his finger.
your son frowns and simply huffs, assuming that you’re clueless to what the heck is happening while you’re hugging him.
your, petty, husband also believes that this banter would go unnoticed by you so he sticks his tongue out at his son and his son gasps quietly.
well, they’re both equally stupid cause you obviously know, but oh well.
FYODOR DOSTOYEVSKY:
never in a million years did he imagine that the person who would challenge him in everything would be his own daughter, his way too smart for a 7 year old, daughter.
today, she saw him hugging you from the back while you were cooking and decided that it’s enough time with you for him.
“father,” she calls out and he hums in response.
“that’s enough time with mom; get away,” she says calmly and he doesn’t look at her and instead tightens his hold on you and whispers, “milaya, you look breathtaking, today.”
you shake your head with a smile and a small, rare chuckle escapes fyodor.
“father, please distance yourself from mother,” she says one last time, patience running out.
fyodor looks at her, “and if I don’t, dear?”
she blinks up at him then kicks him in the shins. he staggers, surprising both himself and you. he looks at his daughter with a frown, “how courageous of you, my dear daughter.”
“cry me a river; we agreed that we each get one hour with mom!” and there comes out the you in her. she smiles the moment you pat her head, signaling for her to go wait for you at the couch.
she bolts there and leaves you and your husband to be. fyodor finally stands up and looks at you with a barely visible pout that has increased in appearances since you gave birth to your dear daughter, “y/n.”
“yes, fedya?”
“our daughter kicked me in the shins.”
you raise an eyebrow, “and you didn’t guess she would?”
“of course, I did,” he looks at her, and somehow your husband who often is known for his intelligence seems like some jealous baby, “but I thought she wouldn’t do it in front of you, at least.”
“well, I didn’t see anything,” you sing and he smirks lightly.
“teaming up on me, are you?”
you shrug, “how can I ever?”
“what a cruel wife you are,” he mumbles right beside your ear and you merely roll your eyes.
NAKAHARA CHUUYA:
sometimes, you feel like you’re a rope being tugged between your son and husband. they are both equally possessive and both have quite the tempers and you have to act like the peace keeper most of the time.
today was no different; however, you have decided to simply watch from the sidelines this time.
“dad! I am gonna marry mom! don’t fight me about it!” your son says confidently.
your husband feels a vein pop, “you little— you can’t marry her! she’s already married to me!”
“no she isn’t!”
“yes she is!”
“what’s your proof?” your son says with a smirk that he definitely inherited from his father, but who’s counting.
your husband narrows his eyes at him and huffs and goes to your shared bedroom. your son giggles and runs towards you, “finally! mom, can I have a hug please?”
you open your arms and your son wastes no time jumping into your embrace making you smile and pat his back. you’re kind of surprised that chuuya didn’t fight back as hard today; maybe you guessed today’s outcome wrong—
you’re quickly proven to have indeed guessed it right as your chuuya appears in all his glory holding your wedding photo, the marriage certificate, and proudly showing off his ring.
your son’s eyes widen, “what is this?”
“the proof that me and y/n are married,” he replied smugly and you sigh.
“w-well, she doesn’t have the same ring as yours!” your son stammers and your husband simply smirks and points at your left hand.
you’ve never heard your son screech so loudly in all his 6 years of living as his eyes lay on your ring.
he jumps away from you, clutching his heart, “mom, what is the meaning of this?!”
“of what exactly?”
“YOU’RE MARRIED TO DAD??” he gasps and you chuckle lightly because if you were to roll your eyes then this house will be turned into ruins.
“honey, I had to marry dad so we can have you,” you smile and chuuya looks as offended as your son.
“HAD TO??”
you side-eye him and he quickly zips his mouth shut and looks away but not without grumbling a couple of curses.
“but that means that I can’t marry you cause you’re already married,” your son says defeatedly as he sits on the floor.
“EXACTLY SO LET US BE!” your husband shouts confidently.
tears well up in your son’s eyes and he bursts into a wail that has your house flooding in a couple of seconds.
you simply look at chuuya, “way to go my dear husband.”
KUNIKIDA DOPPO:
most of the time, your daughter was a daddy’s girl. she always listens to him and a grin is automatically plastered on her face once she sees him.
you can never blame her though cause you have the same reaction whenever you see your lovely husband.
your daughter turned out to be an exact copy of you and both of you share the insane amount of love you have for kunikida.
but there are times where your daughter just wants time with her mama not her dad.
for example, today, you and kunikida were cuddling in the bed, slowly drifting off to sleep. his arms are wrapped around you as he strokes your hair and you feel him press a kiss to your forehead making you nuzzle into his chest.
you feel him smile and you close your eyes to welcome sleep, but you hear a couple of knocks on the door.
your husband sighs softly before sitting up and putting his glasses on, “come in, d/n.”
she slowly opens the door and peaks in, “sorry pa.”
he adjusts his glasses and shakes his head with a smile, “it’s okay; did you have a nightmare?”
she nods softly and perks up at her dad patting the bed. she walks to you two and climbs up the bed, which is quite the travail for her.
most of the time, when she has a nightmare, she squeezes herself between you both to have ‘best of both worlds’ as you say.
so kunikida expects her to sleep between you both like usual, but instead she pushes him away, albeit gently, and sleeps right next you —where he once was— and cuddles close to you.
you pat her head and pull her closer with a smile.
you look up at your husband who had his spot taken from him and giggle at the sight of his small pout.
kunikida watches you guys cuddle and then decides to just lay back down and simply wrap his arms around both of you at the same time. he didn’t train all of that time for nothing.
your daughter whines jokingly, “paaa, I want to be with mom.”
he raises an eyebrow, “is that so?”
she nods and starts squealing and laughing when her father squeezes you guys in a tight hug. both your laughters fill the room and kunikida smiles before saying, “do you not want papa anymore?”
“no no! I want you; please mercy!” she pleads making both you and kunikida chuckle before he finally relaxes his hold and kisses both your and her cheek and the three of you finally succumb to sleep.
NIKOLAI GOGOL:
“quiz time! guess who had his share of y/n today?”
you deadpan, “kolya, I am not a pie.”
“well, you’re certainly as sweet as one,” your husband grins, but both you and your son just gag at the terrible pick up line.
you’ve long got used to his theatrics, after all. your son, though, calls bs on everything his dad does.
“not me,” your son replied with a grin and holds you tighter, sticking his tongue out at nikolai.
“AHAHA! you’re as funny as me, s/n,” nikolai cackles, and you’re sure he is keen on throwing your son off of you any time now.
“but dad, I can’t be funny as you,” your son says dejectedly and nikolai’s eyebrow rises.
“why is that?”
your son smiles, a closed eye smile, before replying, “you’re not funny at all; that’s an insult to me.”
nikolai doesn’t say anything as he pulls your screaming son off you, after quite the struggle.
he walks to the garden and throws him there, “go play with a frog or something; I will have y/n all to myself for the rest of the day. thank you!”
your husband smiles victoriously and is about to throw himself into your embrace until his son reappears right beside you and the boy has a frown that only means one thing.
chaos is about to ensue.
your son starts throwing a tantrum and yelling, “I WANT TO CUDDLE MOM!!”
“no can do, young man,” your husband says shaking his head, “you already got your fair share of mama per the agreement.”
“what agreement?” your son asks, tears still streaming down his face.
your husband puts his hand in his coat and gets out a contract.
the contract reads that your son will only have 2 hours of your attention and time while your husband gets the rest.
“b-but these types of papers need to have signatures of both sides!”
your husband giggles, “your signature is right here, my dear son.”
your son gasps but quickly composed himself.
“oh whatever shall you do now? I rightfully deserve all of y/n’s time—AHHHHH WHAT THE HELL?!”
you come back —after leaving to get yourself a cup of coffee cause this is way too much for you— and find that your son has effectively set the contract on fire.
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souliebird · 5 months
Text
[[and then I met you || ch. 19]]
Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit
Summary:
A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.
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Words: 3.6k
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Frank, admittedly, isn’t as fit as he used to be. 
Running through the desert, carrying all his gear, used to be an everyday thing he could do no problem, but now, running through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, he finds his breathing to be a bit labored. 
Then again, that might be because he’s pissed off. He, Jones, and Red were in the middle of setting up for a night of surveillance, something Red insisted they do, when the costumed idiot took off into the night without a word.
Normally, Red will give them the damn courtesy of letting them know before he disappears to protect his flock, so him just starting to bolt had Frank and Jones scooping up their shit and following. 
One thing Frank’s learned while working with Matt Murdock is to trust the bastard when it comes to his senses - when he says they need to clear out, there is usually a damn good reason to start running. But he has always given a reason or a head’s up - taking off like this must mean something is going down.
Jones gave up trying to keep pace a few blocks back, but Frank is determined to find out what the hell is going on. Red has the advantage of not hauling an additional fifty pounds of gear, and he has taken to parkouring over the roofs, so has gotten about a block and a half ahead. 
Frank can keep him in his sights, at least. He’s making a bee-line right towards Chelsea and that’s causing a pit to start to grow in the Marine’s stomach. Not many things override Red’s deep seeded commitment to his city and only one of those things resides outside Hell’s Kitchen. 
He adjusts his grip on his bag and forces his legs to move faster.  
The buildings around him shift from businesses to residential and about two blocks into the change, Frank knows what set the Devil off. 
His little girl is in the middle of the sidewalk, crying hysterically as her mother struggles on the ground against some fat fuck in a business suit. Frank only sees the attacker for a brief second before fury incarnate grabs him by his thick neck and slams him into the ground by Mom’s feet. The sound of a skull being cracked rings clear before it's covered by angry roars and the crunch and squelch of someone’s face being pounded in. 
By the Grace of all that is Holy, Red’s baby seems to not care her dad is about to kill a guy and scurries to her Mommy now that she is free. Frank kicks his ass into gear to get there before she can be traumatized anymore. 
He doesn’t know if the little girl recognizes him or not, but she doesn’t fight it when Frank picks her up. She clings to him desperately, burying her face against his neck and just sobbing. Instincts he forgot he had kick in and Frank bundles Minnie up in his duster, rocking her and trying to soothe her the best he can.
“Hey, hey, sweet girl, it's okay, it's okay. I gotcha. Everything’s gonna be okay, I gotcha.”
Frank cups the back of her head, careful to not tangle his fingers up in her curls and turns her away from her bloody mother. He needs to check on you, to make sure your wounds are something he can handle, and they don’t need to take you to the hospital, but he can’t do that with a crying toddler in his arms. 
“He hurt my Mommy!” The baby wails and his heart just about breaks. He wants so badly to join Red in stomping the piece of shit’s head into the pavement for endangering such a precious child, but he knows he can’t. She can’t witness any more than she already has. 
As often as Frank takes digs at Murdock for being an altar boy, he can’t let Red’s daughter see him lose control and step over the line he swore to never cross. He’d never forgive himself for causing that trauma for her. So, he hugs the little girl closer, kisses the top of her head, then grunts, “Red!”
Murdock stills mid-punch, his bloody fist raised and ready to continue his punishment. He looks feral - he is snarling, and gore has splashed up onto his face. He is shaking with rage and for a brief moment, Frank can see why he claims to have the Devil in him. Then, just as his little girl cries for her Mom again, control returns to him. Red tilts his head in a way Frank knows he heard something, then he pushes himself up into standing. 
Red rips his gloves off, throwing them to the ground, before taking the few steps to clear the gap between him and Frank. He barely starts to rasp out his daughter’s name before she’s turning in Frank’s arms and trying to throw herself to him, sobbing.
“DADDY!”
The noise Red makes is not at all human as he crushes his baby girl to his chest. A new round of loud tears start and Frank knows he has to work quickly before they start attracting attention. 
He pulls his duster off and throws it around Red’s shoulders, trying to hide his garish costume. Murdock seems to realize what he’s doing - he curls into it while ducking his horn-head and moving towards the shadows as he comforts his daughter. Frank can’t hear what he’s saying - his voice is low and the crying covers it - but honestly he doesn’t care.
He turns his attention back to your limp body on the ground, dropping down and letting his knowledge of field medicine take over.
Your forehead is bleeding pretty bad, but a quick assessment of the wound tells him it looks worse than it really is. You’ve got a pretty good gash, but it is shallow, and he doesn’t feel any bone breakage under it or swelling. You’ll need a few stitches, and a hell of a lot of ibuprofen, but you won’t need a hospital. You probably passed out from a combination of pain and exhaustion from an adrenaline rush. 
Still, Frank checks your neck before deciding to move you, just to make sure it's safe. 
As he starts to press his fingers along your spine, Jones finally makes her appearance, jogging up to the scene. 
“What the fuck?”
Frank barely looks up as he growls out his reply, focusing on his work while formulating a plan in his head, “It’s his kid.”
“Oh shit,” she replies, then after a beat, “Is he dead?”
Frank barely looks over to the beaten man in question - his chest is still rising and falling so that’s good enough for him. “Nah, not yet. Call it in - then meet us up in her apartment.” 
He rattles off the address and apartment number as he scoops you up into a fireman’s carry. He’s glad he doesn’t have far to go, because your weight, plus his gear, isn’t doing any favors to his back. As he gets you situated, Jones steps over to the attacker and nudges him in the side with her boot. His face isn’t recognizable as human, but that isn’t what she comments on. 
“What is that smell? Did he shit himself?”
“Fuck if I know, just call it in,” Frank grunts as he begins to trudge towards the right building. “Red, let's go!”
He knows he doesn’t have to explain the plan to Murdock - fucker heard him the first time. Red falls in line and by some miracle, his little girl’s crying has tampered down. She’s still crying - Frank would be more concerned if she wasn’t - but she’s tucked herself close to her Dad and seems to be just more upset than actively terrified. Frank’s got no idea what Murdock could have possibly done to soothe her, but he gives him props for doing it so damn fast. 
He can hear Jones calling for an ambulance as they enter into your building, and once in the lobby, Frank wastes no time barking another order, “Take off your helmet.” 
That earns him a glare, or what counts as a glare from the Devil, and Murdock uses one hand to pull his cowl off and stuffs it between his chest and his daughter before starting for the stairs. Frank is right at his heel and being so close means he can finally hear what Red is repeating to his girl. 
“Just listen to her heart, baby, everything’s okay. You know that sound. Just listen to her heart.”
Frank has a good guess what that means - his theory about passing out from exhaustion and pain is probably correct. If your heart isn’t in crazy panic ‘I’m dying’ mode, you should be fine after a good night’s rest. 
The only problem they encounter in the climb up to your apartment is your door. They have to do a weird song-and-dance of Frank turning so Red can get into your purse to get keys while also making sure Minnie can’t see your face. He hasn’t gotten the chance to clean you up in any way and he’s not going to let any little girl see her mom like that if he can help it. 
Once they are inside the apartment, Frank goes right to the couch to lay you out. As he does, he says over his shoulder, “I’m gonna call Curt.” 
Just because you don’t need a hospital doesn’t mean you shouldn’t see a medical professional. Frank knows what he is doing, but he does not trust himself to stitch up your face. Someone with delicate hands needs to do that, and the best person he knows for that is Curt. 
Murdock, however, disagrees. 
“Call Claire,” he counters firmly. 
Frank knows better than to argue - this is Murdock’s family and Frank ain’t got a dog in this fight. So, once you are down, and his gear is dropped, he fishes out his phone to call the feisty nurse. As he does, Red starts back towards what Frank assumes is the bedroom, talking in a sweet tone to his little girl, “It's okay, Frank’s gonna clean Mommy up, then we can go see her. She’s just got a scrape, everything’s okay.”
Frank focuses on his task at hand - as the line rings, he raids the kitchen for washcloths, bowls, and paper towels. He’s on his way back to the couch when Claire finally answers.
“What did he do this time?”
A little smile forms on his lips at her bluntness - he’s always liked Claire and her no-nonsense attitude. 
“Ain’t him. His girl got mugged, hit her head pretty good,” he explains, as he dips a washcloth into the water to start on cleaning you up. The cut on your forehead is still bleeding, but only a little by this point. He’ll have to retrace their steps to wipe away any blood droplets, so they don't leave a trail right to your door.
“So, take her to the ER.”
He hums at the response, then adds the crucial element, “His little girl saw it all.”
The line is silent for a good five seconds before Claire is swearing, “I’m on my way. How bad are we talking?”
He feels a little for the nurse at the moment - she’s always having to deal with Red broken and battered and is probably thinking she’s going to have to do some sort of impromptu surgery. He gives a rundown on your injuries, then adds, “Your stitches are nicer than mine.” 
“Exactly what a lady wants to hear. How’s the kid?” 
“Physically ok, but probably going to have nightmares for a while,” is his honest reply. There wouldn’t be an attacker left to pick up in an ambulance if Minnie had gotten hurt - he would have made sure of that no matter what Red would have said.
Claire groans in response, “I don’t know anything about child psychology, Frank.” 
“No one’s expecting you to.”
The nurse may be a miracle worker in the eyes of Red’s little vigilante group, but no one in this world is qualified to deal with all their mental problems.
“Give me ten minutes and I’ll be there. You’re lucky I’m on this side of town already.” 
Claire hangs up on him and Franks stuffs his phone back into his pocket. He’ll need to call Mirco later to set up a camera on your building, something similar to what he’s got for Karen, and arrange for some background checks on the neighbors. The area seems to be working class just trying to get by, but isn’t that just all of the city now? Even if one drunk-off-his-ass guy just made some stupid decision, it put you and the kid in danger and that is a no-go in Frank’s book. As much Red will huff and puff and growl, his family falls under Frank’s sphere of protection and that isn’t something Frank skimps on. 
So, a full security upgrade is in your near future. 
But that is something he’ll figure out the details for later on. Right now, he puts his full attention in cleaning you up. 
The worst of it is the cut on your forehead. He folds a washcloth and sets it on the wound to help the remaining bleeding stop, then moves onto your cheeks. You’ve got some gravel stuck there, but he doesn’t see any glass or metal. There’s some bruising, but he doesn’t think it will be anything to fuss about - it will fade away within a day or so. He’s seen worse coloring on a hickey. The bastard who attacked you didn’t seem like he knew what he was doing, or he was too sloshed out of his mind to be coordinated.
 Overall, you are just pretty banged up. 
But nonetheless, Frank takes care to make sure it just looks like you are resting, even putting the throw blanket left on the couch over you to hide the grime stains on your clothes. 
Red and his creepy bat ears must be listening, because as soon as he goes to dump the bloody cleaning water, he’s coming out of the bedroom with Minnie. She’s still in his arms, clinging to his neck like a koala, but her tears have stopped. She’s still sniffling, though.
Frank hangs back as the little girl is brought to her Mommy and his heart damn near breaks again when she starts talking. 
“She’s just sleeping?” 
“She’s just sleeping,” Red confirms. He carefully kneels down beside you and makes slow, exaggerated movements as he puts his hand over your heart. “You can feel, too. Just sleeping.”
He watches as the tiny little girl untangles herself from her father and stretches to put her hand next to his. She scrunches up her nose and gets a look Frank has seen a million times on Red. 
“Boom. Boom. Boom.”
“Exactly, boom. Boom. boom. The same heart-noises Mommy makes when she sleeps.” 
They stay like that for a few seconds before little hands go up to your face and Minnie is examining your cuts.
“He hurt Mommy,” she says so softly that Frank wants to stomp back downstairs and unload his Glock into the asshole. “She has ouchies.” She turns so quickly in Red’s arm that Frank sees him jump just a little - probably still on high alert - and she slaps both her hands on his cheeks, “You have to kissy it better.”
Her voice is so serious and demanding, he’s surprised Red doesn’t instantly comply. Instead, he kisses his little one’s forehead. 
“A doctor is going to come and make sure all her ouchies are taken care of. Then we can kiss it better.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Her curls bounce as the little girl whips around to address Frank, ordering in the same voice, “You have to kissy it better, too.”
He damn well knows better than to argue with a three year old girl - Lisa could put him in his place like no one's business - so Frank simply nods with a, “Yes, ma’am.” Red doesn't look thrilled at the agreement, but he's not the one who's opinion Frank cares about.
Her brown eyes sus him out, narrowing a fraction before he passes whatever criteria she has and Minnie turns back to her mother and father. “When is she gonna wake up?”
“She'll wake up when she's done resting,” Murdock gently advises. “She needs lots of rest right now.” 
Frank knows what question is coming before it is even asked. It is the universal toddler question. 
“Why?”
Red, it seems, needs to spend more time with his kid because he looks completely baffled by the question. He repeats the word, which just gets parroted back at him, and Frank can practically hear Lisa and Frankie chanting along with her. 
Why? 
Why? 
Why?
Why would you need lots of rest in a way a terrified toddler would get it? There's a slight hint of panic in Red’s sightless eyes as he fights to find an answer and Frank takes pity on him. 
He steps forward and asks the little girl, “Have you ever played really hard then needed a nap after?”
Attention swings back to him but this time he is prepared for it. Minnie considers his question, then nods, and Frank gives her a soft, friendly smile. “Same thing, sweetheart. Your Mommy’s body worked really hard and now she needs a nap.” 
“She needs a nap,” the baby replies and then, to his amusement, proceeds to stuff her fingers into her mouth and suck on them. He's got no idea what that means, but Red’s shoulders relax a fraction, so he assumes it's a good thing. 
He wonders if she's starting to get tired now that the action is over. He can't imagine why they were out in the first place, but he has to guess it was to get something from the store. That is his experience with bringing a baby in their pajamas out at night - there was something needed that couldn't wait until morning. That would also explain the black bag in your purse.
He looks to Red and his girl - Murdock has sat himself on the floor beside the couch, facing you, and Minnie is tucked in his lap, sucking her fingers still. Both of their focus seems to be on you. So, Frank lets curiosity get the better of him and he goes to snoop. 
There’s a bottle of Pedialyte nestled inside the bag, and by the tiny bit missing, he has a feeling he knows who it is for. He looks from it, over to the sweet child sitting in Red’s lap, and decides she probably still needs it if her mom went out in the middle of the night for it. So, he turns his snooping to the kitchen and opens and closes cabinets until he finds the one holding sippy cups. All of them have Braille labels on them and he briefly wonders what each says before grabbing one with Big Bird on it. He gives it a good rinse before filling it up halfway with the blue liquid.
He removes his tactical vest before he heads back to the living room. He thinks of it more of a sign for Red than Minnie. The little girl might be scared of the skull art, but he hopes it will help Murdock relax. He’s putting on a good face for his daughter, but Frank can see the tension in his jaw and how on edge and angry he must be, and he can’t be blamed. He knows how emotional Red can get and he’s surprised he’s managing to keep it together - so subtly letting him know ‘there’s no danger here’ and Frank isn’t a threat to his family might just get him to stop grinding his teeth. 
He approaches slowly and somewhat loudly, while holding out the sippy cup, “Here you go, sweetie.”
Minnie blinks up at him with those wide brown eyes and he can see the exhaustion starting to creep in - getting a bottle might just knock her out. He has to lean down so she can take it, but as soon as she does, her hand drops from her mouth and she politely mumbles, “Thank you.” 
“You’re very welcome, sweetheart.”
“What is it?” Murdock questions, nose twitching to try to figure out the smell. Frank doubts he’s familiar with the drink, but soon he’ll have it memorized.
“Blue Pedi-lyte,” the baby grumbles before the spout goes right into her mouth and she starts to nurse it. Almost instantly she starts leaning back against Red’s chest and Frank knows right away she’ll be asleep within minutes. 
He checks his phone as he goes to take a seat at the kitchen table. Claire should be here any minute and it's a toss up if Jones comes up or not. He’ll wait until everything is all settled to head out - he does want to make sure you are okay and he’s not going to leave Claire alone with an upset kid and her Dad-devil. 
Frank brings up his texts to Karen to start typing out that the op is a bust, when Murdock’s quiet voice interrupts his train of thought.
“Thank you, Frank.”
“Nothing to thank me for, Red. It’s your family. You don’t gotta explain that to me.”
“Still, thank you, Frank. I mean it. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Murdock.”
---
a/n: frank has entered the chat and assumed Alpha Dad role. his family now.
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