❥ 30- she/her - multiple fandoms

❥ Master List

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𝕄𝕚𝕘𝕦𝕖𝕝 𝕆'ℍ𝕒𝕣𝕒 𝕩 𝔽!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 ℂ𝔼𝕆/𝕄𝕒𝕗𝕚𝕒 𝔹𝕠𝕤𝕤 𝔸𝕦

Chapter 5: Off to Breakfast

Things aren't going as expected as you go out for your first meal as an O'Hara.

MDNI

obnote: lol i went away for awhile cause ya fav writer was diagnosed with bpd and started meds which has totally changed the structure of my brain and now finally the creative juices are flowing. sowy.

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It shouldn’t have surprised you by how exhausted you still were, even after getting a full night’s sleep your body had more to catch up on. Just one good night of sleep wasn’t going to fix the years of damage. Between the sleepless nights and the continuous stress, your body was running on fumes, the fact that you were functioning at all was a surprise to anyone who knew you. But now, in the back of a random car, sleep was trying its best to pull you under while you glanced out of the window, trying to figure out where you were headed.

𝐿𝑜𝑔𝒶𝓃 𝐻𝑜𝓌𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉 (𝒲𝑜𝓇𝓈𝑒 𝐿𝑜𝑔𝒶𝓃) 𝓍 𝒜𝐹𝒜𝐵 𝑀𝓊𝓉𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 !

Chapter 6: Rescue Mission?

Logan thought he was going to enjoy a night of peace for once, instead he ends up being your knight in shining leather. Aka Logan's perspective when your date went wrong.

Slight Angst. SLOW Burn. Minors DNI!

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The apartment was completely empty for once. Wade had gone off with Vanessa somewhere, Blind Al was wherever she went,  and the only thing that can be heard is the low hum coming from whatever show was on the tv. He wasn’t paying much attention to it as he nursed a beer, taking long slow sips from it. 

Peace and fucking quiet. Finally.

It was non-stop noise with Wade in the apartment, never a single moment of silence or peace. He was so relieved to have this time to himself. Sometimes he wonders if he should have stayed in his own universe, at least there people usually left him alone. But now he had…..thoughts pause for a moment as he looked around, whatever this was. Logan was used to being alone and now he never is, even in his own mind it seemed. The brief moments of reprieve from Wade, didn’t leave Logan with a clear mind unfortunately because in times like this somehow his fucked up brain would think of you. 

Thinking about you was pointless and stupid, he knew that, of course he did. But ever since that night you drunkenly stumbled into the apartment, there was a small part in the back of his mind that was reserved for you. He couldn’t even pretend to lie to himself and say you weren’t attractive because you were, extremely, but it wasn’t just that. For some reason, Logan wanted something from you, anything. He wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted or why he wanted anything from you. Maybe it was the way that your mutant powers were similar to Jeans’. Maybe it was how your smile never truly met your eyes and yet you did it so easily, so frequently. Maybe it was how on that fateful night, he saw himself in you. The fear. The regret. The sense of losing control. He didn’t really know.

And then, there was your art. Logan would never consider himself the type of man to care about that type of stuff but every time he looked at one of your paintings he felt something. It was as if he could actually feel the art itself and it hurt, your art hurt, and it was so, you. Even when he went to your art gallery and heard the things people said, he knew that no one felt it. They all called it beautiful, which he would agree, but no one saw the actual pain in your paintings. People used words like ‘joy’ ,‘peaceful’, ‘hopeful’, nothing that he felt when he looked at them. And maybe it was just him and there was more wrong with him than he knew but he did know that even if it was minuscule there is a part of you that was like him. And maybe he was the only one to see your art for what it is. 

Who knows. He surely didn’t, and not wanting to think about it too much tried to push the thought out of his mind. 

Luckily, his thoughts were disrupted by the blasting sound of the chorus to ‘Like A Prayer’ by Madonna. What the fuck was that? Logan’s keen ears immediately found the disturbance, which for some reason was his phone. When he looks at the screen, he’s annoyed but not surprised by the name and picture that appears on his screen. Fucking Wade. He contemplates between throwing the phone or just declining it but the call ended before he could make a decision on that. Annoyed, he sets his phone back down, settling himself further into the couch taking a swig of his almost forgotten beer. Despite the annoyance, at the very least it stopped the thoughts of you and now he was consumed with the annoying thoughts of whatever Wade could have wanted. Unfortunately, or fortunately, he didn’t have to think long before his phone was blaring again with that same ringtone and that same irritating face appearing on his phone.

Groaning, reluctantly he answers the phone, “What?” 

“Hey so, there’s a problem” The voice coming from the receiver wasn’t Wade’s but Vanessa's. Logan didn’t even consider listening until she spoke your name. “ She’s at the diner, James, and needs someone to get her.”

Logan fakes annoyance, grumbling into the phone, “Yeah whatever I’ll get her.”

He responded too quickly, causing Wade’s voice to call out from the back, “Oh,our x-men hero goes to save our damsel in distress!” Wade is always coming to ruin everything. Logan growls into the receiver, already regretting the action, not wanting to leave you there but not wanting to deal with Wade’s negging either.

“Wade, for fucks sake,” Vanessa’s voice sounding as if she moved the phone away to scold him, “Anyways, she didn’t really tell us what was going on but she needs someone there”

Logan just grunts again, not trying to think about whatever you had been through to have had Vanessa calling him to pick you up. “ I said I would get her.”  He doesn’t want to hang up just yet in case they have anything else to  say about what happened with you, as he grabs his jacket and the keys to his bike.

“Thanks Logan, I already told her you were coming.”

That was all he needed to hear before hanging up. Every red light and stop sign was ignored as he made his way to you. It took him half the time to get to James than it should have. As he gets off his bike, he looks through the windows to see if you’re inside. After a quick scan, you were easy to locate. You were obviously previously in a state of duress, your hair was wild, your face looks slightly puffy from the side and you’re speaking with a waitress as she places a piece of pie in front of you. He watches you enjoy your pie, the smile on your face as you’re enjoying your first bites. Your expressions pull at something within him. 

After a moment, he realizes how creepy this may look and decides to walk into the diner. He walks in as you go to take a huge bite, freezing as you spot him coming through the door. The base of your spoon moves in your panic, making some of the whipcream hit your nose as your mouth encloses around the spoon.

He attempts to keep his voice as nonchalant as usual, “They sent me to get you.”

His eyes soaking in the details of your appearance as you attempt to explain your way out of needing him there. But it went through one ear and out of the other. Your hair was a wreck, your makeup smeared slightly as you had seemed to attempt to clean yourself up a bit, but then there was still that bit of whip cream sitting on the button of your nose. Damn, he never really thought anyone could look so cute in such a disheveled state but here you were. After whatever kind of disastrous night you had been in, still looking so cute. Without even thinking, he reaches out with a napkin to wipe that bit of whipped cream off sighing in what sounded like a sound of endearment. 

Almost immediately, he notices the shift in your demeanor. The way your eyes widened if only for a second, causing your wet lashes to blink up at him as you tried to adjust your expression. Your poor attempts at not showing that his actions flustered you, failing in the most obvious way to someone like him. Yeah, you were cute.

“Go ahead and finish, then we can go.” Logan's voice came out a bit gruffer than he expected as he attempted to contain the slight uptick of the side of his mouth. Even if this wasn’t the best of circumstances, he felt a bit of pride that he could have an effect on you. It wasn’t until the realization set in that he almost felt teenage, feeling cocky over flustering a girl. That signature scowl appears on his face, turning his head away from you, a sense of slight embarrassment washing over him. Eventually though, he began to feel your gaze on his face. It felt like you were searching for something. For what, he didn’t know but quickly it seemed you found it but still didn’t look away. Now he was the one starting to get flustered.

”What, kid?” His question came out more aggressive than he wanted as he could feel heat creeping up the back of his neck.

You serve your own attitude back in your response, “Nothing,” before you mumbled with a spoon sticking out of your mouth, “Not a kid”

Yeah sure, not a kid, but here you were looking still so damn cute as you shoved the last bites of pie in your mouth. The tiny noises of pleasure along with the way your face scrunched in contentment were affecting him more than it should. And that by itself made him even more irritated, the previous scowl on his face deepening even more. Finally though, you were done, and Logan could get the both of you the hell out of there and he wouldn’t have to have these stupid thoughts about you.

Quickly standing up while digging out money from his pocket placing it on the table, “Alright you’re done, lets go.” The irritation he was having at his own self made him come off as more impatient than usual. He planned on keeping his eyes on the door as you got up from the booth but as soon as you shifted his eyes went to you. He hadn’t even realized what you were wearing until now and even though he knew you had some type of healing abilities, just the thought of you out on his bike like that created a pit of concern in him. With that realization, he strips from his jacket and forces it into your unwilling arms but you shove it right back seemingly annoyed at him.

A cute little pout pulls at your lips, “don’t need it”. Damn, were you stubborn for no reason. He really should be more annoyed with you but he just can’t find it in himself when he looks back at you as you exit the diner, shivering a bit when the cold hit you. And yet refused his jacket. Logan groans inwardly and outwardly as he decides to take matters into his own hands by putting the jacket on you himself. He’s surprised at how you don’t struggle, feeling a bit too smug as the pout on your face deepens as he zips it all the way up to your chin. Logan is starting to realize somehow you always end up in  his jacket as he turns to walk to his bike before grabbing the helmet he never wore himself from the handlebars. To his surprise you’re standing behind him, a little less pouty as he places the helmet on your head securing it properly. He couldn’t resist himself, tapping the front of the helmet caused that scowl of yours to return, earning a smirk from him. As soon as you open your mouth, he turns and gets onto the bike pointing a thumb behind him for you to get on. He could sense you wanted to bite back but he assumed you probably didn’t have that much left in you from whatever happened previously. 

Logan can feel the movement in the bike as you get on, he feels your hesitation as you just barely place your hands on his waist. Oh he is so glad you can’t see the smirk on his face before calling behind him, “You should probably hold on”, then taking right off. He can feel your weight shift back, in a brief moment thinking you may fall, before your arms tightly wrap securely around him. He almost contained his laughter at you until he felt the tip of your nail in his ribs and then he couldn’t help the rumble that came from his chest. But soon enough, he can feel you relax into him almost melting into his back. He would never admit it to you, and even himself, but the ride was nice, feeling you leaning into him warmed him from the inside out. The idiotic feeling was inescapable, this would never work, the two of you would never work and he knew that but for once in this small moment he enjoyed himself. Soon, he parked his bike in the parking garage, lost in his own thoughts while you tried to give him back his jacket and helmet. He didn’t want it, once you wore something of his it just belonged to you. Logan didn’t know why but he never wanted any of it back.

Your voice sounds soft and wistful, “Thanks again for coming to get me”. He could see how exhausted you were as you pulled his jacket closer into you. Logan could do nothing more than just grunt in acknowledgement, he didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know what to do. He assumed you to just leave, you stayed there staring at him as if you expected something from him but he had nothing to give. And then you spoke again, “Alright, thanks again. I guess I’ll see you later.”

He fidgeted with the cigar in his pocket for a moment before responding, “Yeah, later” before taking it out of his pocket finishing his statement, “Night kid”

You scrunched your face in that cute way he was getting too used to seeing, “Not a kid”. He watched you as you huffed and walked away, still clutching his jacket. Logan really hated the way that he felt because he knew it was pointless. Especially with you. He waits for a bit, smoking his cigar trying not to make this situation even more awkward by allowing you to get to your apartment without having to spend any more time with him. 

Despite his usual bad luck, Wade wasn’t there when he finally got into the apartment. Logan knew his temper would be worse than usual if he had to have any type of interaction with Wade. But on the other hand, now he was left with just himself and his thoughts, and unfortunately every train of thought he had parked at the station of you. He already knew that anything between the two of you would end in disaster so Logan did what he does best, he decided then he would just push you away, make sure you never wanted to be around him. Now that, that was something he was good at, a professional even. And that’s just what he was going to have to do whether he wanted to or not. 

Kakashi X F!Reader

Your sister is getting married and you hate her soon to be husband. When you feel like you may lose one thing, will you hold on tighter to something else?

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bimbote: yes i did private all of the rabbit and the wolf and am currently rewriting and publishing it. im sorry to anyone who loved the original but that was during a time i was first getting back into writing and i honestly hated how i wrote it. it'll be the same premise and story line just hopefully better ! ꨄ︎

𝕄𝕚𝕘𝕦𝕖𝕝 𝕆'ℍ𝕒𝕣𝕒 𝕩 𝔽!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 ℂ𝔼𝕆/𝕄𝕒𝕗𝕚𝕒 𝔹𝕠𝕤𝕤 𝔸𝕦

Chapter 4: The Morning After

After last night, you don't know how to feel about Miguel, you don't really know how to feel about anything really. It's time to figure out how to move forward in your new life you guess.

MDNI

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The sounds started off faint, soft noises of what your still asleep ears assumed to be birds or other animals outside of your window. Only bothering you slightly, while you burrow deeper into the comfort of the blankets encasing you not wanting to start your day yet. But the noises continued, starting to form into recognizable words as your brain slowly processes what you were hearing.

“Come on, Mrs. O’Hara it’s time to get up” which was followed by a gentle hand attempting to stir you into full consciousness. Stubbornly, you shake your head, pulling the covers over attempting to shield yourself from the outside world. All you needed was a few more minutes in dreamland, that was it, only just a few more minutes. It didn’t seem that you were going to be given that time as the voice and motion wasn’t ceasing.

Groaning in frustration from your blanket cocoon, “Mom, please just a few more minutes. I don’t even have class today.”

A sound of amused astonishment comes from the figure above you. The voice surely didn’t sound anything like your mother’s. Slowly and nervously peeling the covers from over your head, allowing your eyes to adjust to the light before shyly peaking over at the figure. The figure, in question, before you wasn’t that of your mother but of Lyla, Miguels assistant(?), you weren’t quite sure exactly what she did.

“Oh, I’m so sorry” face flushing from the awkwardness of this situation. For Pete’s sake, it had been several years since your mother woke you up, so long you couldn’t even remember the last time it happened. What made you even think it could possibly be her? Quickly, throwing the covers off you before scrambling out of the bed, attempting to fix your pajamas and wipe the possible sleep from your face. Surely you looked like a mess from how hard you slept. But who could blame you, that bed felt like it was specially made for you

Lyla just giggles, “It’s alright, sweetheart, and let me apologize for not being here when you woke up. At a point I did think you would probably find it a bit creepy for me to just stay in here while you slept all night.”

“No, no, no,” frantically waving your hands in front of you, “It’s absolutely alright, you have nothing to apologize for. I don’t even know why I was so tired.”

Which was a complete and utter lie, this was the first night in as long as you can remember that you were able to just sleep through the night. The first night you didn’t have to pull an all-nighter for medical school, hit the bed half asleep from spending what little energy you had taking care of your stepfamily, didn’t pass out in a hospital chair. Oh shit! Your mom! How could you forget about your own mother?

“Uhm would you be able to take me to see my mom? I can find my own way if it’s not possible. Or I can wait if you all need me to do anything. Or if it’s not possible at all then that’s fine too!” your words almost jumbling together, nervously fiddle with the end of your pajamas, hoping there’s a chance to see her today. The rules of this family weren’t clear yet and it wouldn’t be in your favor to rock the boat so soon, they were treating you well so far.

“Oh sweetie, I work for you. We can go wherever you want to go, whenever you want to go” Lyla giggled watching your face light up with shock and joy, “I’m here to make sure that you’re taken care of. Your husbands' direct orders,”

A wave of heat starts creeping up the back of your neck at the mention of ‘your husband’.  It wasn’t like this was a real marriage anyways but still, it doesn’t stop the embarrassment. You hadn’t even had a relationship before, let alone thought you were going to get married to anyone.

“So, once you’re up and dressed, we will go out to breakfast. The chefs are off this morning just so you won’t be too overwhelmed, and at most I can boil water, so out we must go,” sliding the bag off that was sitting on her shoulder, handing it to you, “Here, this is something for you to wear for the day since we weren’t able to stop by your home, and I don’t think you would  have wanted us just going into your house without you consent.”

You huff out an awkward laugh, still coming down from the embarrassment, “Yeah, the place is kind of a disaster at that,” you joke before grabbing the bag from her hands, “I appreciate the thoughtfulness and for like everything. I do apologize for all of that, that happened, and you know on behalf of my family,”

Lyla puts a comforting hand on your shoulder, giving you a small kind smile, “Don’t you worry about it. We’ve been to worse weddings I promise. Plus, you’re the matriarch of the O’Hara family now you can basically do no wrong. Or anything worse than Miguel has already done,” She snorts out a laugh, giving a shake to her head, “Don’t tell him I said that though, the big man’s kind of scary.”

There’s a beat of silence before you respond, “I don’t know, he doesn’t seem all that scary to me really,” thoughts leading you back to the night before, when you could hear a whisper of humming coming from him while he made you something to eat. Even if he looked annoyed, the act was kind and caring, you couldn’t deny that. You just briefly miss the twinkle in Lyla’s eyes as your thoughts come back to the present. The sly smirk on her face makes you huff out an awkward laugh, “But obviously you know him bette than me.”

“Well, someone needs to think he’s not scary. May as well be his wife.” Lyla laughs as she grabs your shoulders turning you towards the bathroom. That lady knew exactly what she was doing as soon as you heard her laugh a bit harder as you were sure she could feel the warmth of your embarrassment. “Now you go get changed and I’ll be waiting for you”

Before you can even respond she’s pushing you towards the bathroom with the door closes behind you in one swift motion, leaving you a bit stunned. Heaving out a sigh as you make your way over to the vanity mirrors, placing the bag down before pulling out the garments in it. Your eyebrows rise in surprise as you turn the fabric around to view. A sundress? It was perfect weather for it, well it was to your knowledge and the weather app on your phone tells you, but you were a bit surprised by the choice. You didn’t really get out that much, so it wasn’t like you had a vast amount of clothing or style to begin with, but you’ve browsed IG, Pinterest, and TikTok, you weren’t clueless. The dress did kind of look like something that you’ve seen and liked. You would just have to see when you try it on, and hope you looked halfway decent in it.

While you brush your teeth, you scroll through news feed on your phone. Searching for any news about your marriage to the O’Haras but there isn’t a single article, tweet, rumor or anything. A pit begins to form in your stomach, numerous questions bouncing around your head. Wasn’t the whole point of this marriage fixing Miguel’s image? Why wasn’t there anything about it out yet? News like this doesn’t usually get held for more than overnight, especially if TMZ has any say in it. Was this a bad sign? Was the marriage going to get annulled? What would happen to you? What would happen to your mom?

Slamming your phone face down, you shake those thoughts out of your head. You doubted Lyla would still be so kind to you if that were the case. Plus, the whole wedding was hush hush, and it was only the O’Haras people at the venue besides your family. You were sure Elaine or Reese wouldn’t put anything out in public for fear of the O’Hara’s breaking the deal or any other backlash from them.

A sigh escapes you as you slip on the dress, fitting you almost perfectly. As you admire yourself in the mirror you think it may be perfect. While the dress may look perfect, the rest of you had seen better days. Your face and eyes were still swollen from all the crying you did, lips peeling a bit, almost cracking at the corners, and even after moisturizing your skin looked so dull. While you were overthinking your appearance a knock comes from the door.

Unsurprisingly, it was Lyla behind the door, clutching a bag from a chain makeup store. “Sorry if I was taking too long. I was just figuring out how to look presentable. I know I still kind of look a mess” Your apology falls on deaf ears as she pushes her way through with too much excitement.

“No, no, no, sweetheart, it's not a problem. I actually forgot to bring you this,” She holds up a bag with a mischievous glint in her eyes, “I think I did a wonderful job at color matching you, we used some tech from a company we work with that hasn’t exactly came out yet which technically is supposed to be used for like government bio engineering stuff but I’ve found it’s great for makeup and skincare. It basically analyzes your skin on some molecular level,” She rambles as she places numerous products on the counter, some brands you recognize, some you don’t, but the ones you do, you know, come with a hefty price tag. “Basically, I just used it to find what corrections can help improve your skin. On top of finding the exact hues and undertones of your complexion.”

“Uhm alright that doesn’t really sound like something the government would need” you mumble as you look at all the items that now covered the whole sink.

“Yeah, you would think so, but it also dilly allows you to replicate a person features onto someone else’s. Have you seen Face Off” Lyla looks at you expectantly to which you shook your head no, “okay well Nicolas Cage and John Travolta are secret agents who switch faces with each other. It’s kind of like that but you don’t physically need the other person’s face just a scan of it. I know you went to med-school so I’m sure this is easy for you to comprehend.”

“Uhm yeah I guess so” It took you back a bit that she knew you went to medical school. Of course, the O’Haras probably had a whole file on you, assuming it would have only been seen by Miguel and his grandfather. But with Lyla being your glorified babysitter as it seemed, it would make sense that she would be informed about everything that they had on you. But does that mean the rest of his people knew everything about me? The thought unsettled you slightly, it seemed they knew almost everything about you and all you had was news and rumors of just the heads of the family.

Lyla must have noticed the shift in your demeanor cause when you caught her gaze in the mirror, her eyes held a look of sadness and pity in them “But anyways,” she attempts to pull you out of your thoughts, “you wouldn’t mind if I did your makeup up, would you? I promise I won’t mess up that pretty little face of yours. There are only a few girls that work with us, and they never allow me to do their makeup.” She pleads to you, pulling out full blown puppy eyes and begging hands. There was no way I would be able to say no to that display.

Softly you chuckle, “Yeah, that’s fine. I don’t usually wear makeup. The only time I’ve really ever worn it was my graduations and yesterday. I wouldn’t know what I was doing with any of that anyways.”

She squeals at your agreement, spinning you in a 360 on the stool. Immediately, you regret your decision as her excitement seems to increase while she looms over you.

“Don’t you worry, you are in more than capable hands”

All you could do was nod.

Lyla wasted no time, jumping into a more detailed skincare routine than you’ve ever even seen on social media. Different liquids and creams are patted into your skin. “Goodness girl,” she tilts your head up to begin applying something under your eyes, taping as gently as possible, “do you even sleep? Have you ever slept?”

You attempt to avert your gaze from her eyes as she holds your face in her hands. A wave of deep embarrassment washed, “heh not really” You were sure your exhaustion was a bit noticeable, but you didn’t think it was that bad.

Lyla gently pulls your chin down, making you look her in the eyes, “Don’t worry about that anymore. We are going to get you all figured out. We are going to take care of you. Okay?”

“Okay” your response barely above a whisper, it took all your will power to not burst into tears. You couldn’t even remember the last time someone offered to take care of you. Any year of no one there to comfort you. No one to take care of you. No one to make sure you were eating and sleeping. No one to take your temperature when you are sick, or give you medicine, or even make you soup. It was just you by yourself.

“Now,” Lyla begins before turning your chair to look your appearance in the mirror, “Time to makeup this face.”

The makeup process was surprisingly relaxing. The bushes glide across your face, lulling you towards sleep. Only when Lyla would take steps back and forth, admiring her work would you even wake up slightly. You didn’t even know how long you had been sitting there; time lost to you dozing in and out. Unaware that she even finished until, she starts taking numerous pictures of you, beaming at you as your mother used to getting you ready for your first day of school, praising you and her own work.

“So cute, you look just like a doll!” Lyla squeals in excitement, finally taking a step back from bombarding you with pictures to scroll through them. “It wasn’t even hard, such an easy canvas. Already so pretty. Just had to extenuate a few things! Ohhh.” Another squeal comes from her as you shake your head at her antics. While she types away on her phone, doing who knows what with your pictures, you turn your chair towards the mirror. A gasp of surprise escapes you, astounded at what you see in the mirror.

The bags and puffiness under your eyes were gone. Your skin no longer looked dull and lifeless. Lips were lined perfectly, making them stand out from your face but only slightly. It was such natural application that if you didn’t know how you looked before, you would have thought you weren’t even wearing makeup. The sight before you was of someone who looked like you but didn’t; it almost didn’t make sense. If anything, your reflection matched your mothers. People always said that you were the spitting image of her, especially your stepmother, but you couldn’t see it until right now. For the second time today, you willed yourself not to cry.

“Oh, I am so great. Aren’t I?” Lyla brags, quickly glancing up at your astonishment and then back to her phone typing away. You don’t respond immediately, standing up stunned by your reflection and realization. The sound of Lyla tapping away on her phone and snickering, not even registering to you while unknowingly your picture is being discussed on her phone.

The Family

Take a good look at my masterpiece (Photo) (Photo) (Photo) And you guys aren’t even going to believe how great she looks in the dress. Can someone say body?!?! Peter Parker (the dad): boss is going to freak when he sees her Baby Miles Morales: she does look rlly pretty Right? We are going to that one breakfast spot, to see her mom, and then to the office. Check out the dress (Photo) Hobie aka The Clash: oi, he’s gonna flip his lid, you know how he is. Gwenny Stacey: You’re really pushing your luck here. Did you forget that there’s a board meeting today? Exactly, it’s going to be hilarious. And plus, everyone needs to meet his wife eventually. Hobie aka The Clash: I need to be there for that, let me know when ya get there Baby Miles Morales: Leave me and myself out of it, I don’t want any parts. Gwenny Stacey: Do we wanna bet on how long it takes him to kick her out? Peter Parker (The Dad): my bets for when he sees her there Hobie aka The Clash: Eyyy, I think he’ll try to hold it. It’ll be longer if Ben doesn’t make an appearance Gwenny Stacey: Now THAT would be a disaster Fingers crossed, you know I live for stressing him out Peter Parker (The Dad): you’re gonna get us shot one of these days  

Lyla giggles before tucking the phone in her pocket, glancing up to see you still looking at your reflection. You notice her attention on you, causing you to turn around with a bright look in your eyes and a gentle smile on your face.

“Thank you, Lyla. I’ve never felt prettier”

Another squeal comes from her right as she quickly snapped pictures of your smiling face, “Oh, mistress, you are just the cutest. Please let's go to breakfast before I cannot help myself. I’m getting cuteness aggression!” She turns out of the bathroom; you follow behind her before taking a quick look at your full appearance before leaving.

Now that it was daytime, you could finally get a good view of the layout of the house. It was much more lived in than you originally thought. You look around expecting for the house to be barely decorated but you notice several pictures adorning the walls. One catches your eye; it was a family portrait. Stepping closer to the picture, it was a picture of the O’Hara men. Well, men and boys. The photo carried no warmth like a family photo should.

“Some family photo huh? -”

You jump at the words, not realizing how focused you were on the photo to notice Lyla walking up behind you. She continues while you catch your breath from the surprise.

“- I know you’ve met the fossil,” She points at Miguels grandfather, “And of course the bossman himself,” gesturing to the one that was obviously Miguel, even as a child he had such a sharp gaze, “His younger brother, Gabe.” The other boy in the photo, his face much softer, childlike, “And George.”

“His father?” your question making her tense.

“…. yeah” She exhales, “bastard of a man. It’s sure hot where he is” scoffing before turning to you with a forced smile, pushing her glasses up attempting to center herself.

“Good riddance to him, but that’s not something we should really get into. Let’s go.”

You just nod, not even knowing what to say in that moment. Lyla goes back to leading the way, your curiosity about the rest of the house is lost as you can’t get Miguel’s face out of your head. He looked so sad, he was just a boy, a child. And with what Lyla alluded to, what did he go through as a child? Was it anything like yours? On top of that, there was something about his face that looked so familiar, you just couldn’t pinpoint it.

When the two of you arrived outside, a car was already waiting. Before getting in Lyla asks if you had anything that you wanted to eat, any favorite places, any allergies.

“Uhm, no and no allergies but I do have a question,” You start, pausing, nervously playing with your ring again, “So, is this like one of the guest homes or something, the pictures seem too personal for it to be a rental.”

Laughter burst out of Lyla, “Oh sweetie no, Miguel would never. This is the main house of course.”

The main house? Miguel would never? You couldn’t even begin to ask exactly what she meant before the back door to the car opened, ushering you in. Lyla sat in front alongside the driver while you were alone with now just your own thoughts. It hadn’t even been a full 24 hours of being an O’Hara and all your expectations on how things were going to go were thrown out the window. What exactly did your father get you into?

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𝕄𝕚𝕘𝕦𝕖𝕝 𝕆'ℍ𝕒𝕣𝕒 𝕩 𝔽!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 ℂ𝔼𝕆/𝕄𝕒𝕗𝕚𝕒 𝔹𝕠𝕤𝕤 𝔸𝕦

Dying mother. Neglectful father. Evil step-family. Will you be able to change the path that was chosen for you? Or will you end exactly where everyone else wants you? And now that you're the wife of THE Miguel O'Hara, will he be your savior or your new captor?

Chapters:

𝕊𝕡𝕠𝕠𝕜𝕪 𝕆𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣!

I am participating in Kinktober this year! Here’s the schedule! Also since we hit 300 followers WHOOHOO, requests are open for the spooky season

10/4 - DC Comics: Jason Todd x Gunplay/Size Kink

10/11 - One Piece: Doflamingo x Shabari/Power Play

10/18 - Bleach: Sousuke Aizen x Corruption/Captive Kink

10/25 - Black Clover: Yami Sukehiro x Public Sex/Breeding Kink

𝐿𝑜𝑔𝒶𝓃 𝐻𝑜𝓌𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉 (𝒲𝑜𝓇𝓈𝑒 𝐿𝑜𝑔𝒶𝓃) 𝓍 𝒜𝐹𝒜𝐵 𝑀𝓊𝓉𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 !

Chapter 5: A Date

It was your first date with Joelle, all should go well, right??

Slight Angst. SLOW Burn. Minors DNI!

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You were ready. Yeah, you were. There was no way that you were nervous either. Oh, absolutely not. You were only sweating because it was hot. And your hands weren’t actually clammy; it was the new moisturizer you were using. You were fine, just fine. He was just a boy, well a man, a really nice man, a nice man that made you laugh. He was also a nice man that smelled really great and liked your art and had such a charming smile. It wasn’t like your brain was scrolling through the list of all his great attributes compared to all of your own flaws. Nope, nope, you weren’t nervous at all, and it was fine, you were fine, everything was fine. “Do you need a Lexapro or something,” Cats voice comes from the speaker of your phone, head snapping down to her concerned yet amused face on the facetime, “You out here sweating like me in church. Calm the hell down. Actin’ like you ain’t never been on a date before.” You dropped the toothbrush you use for your baby hair on the counter in front of you, shaking out your hands, giving your fingers a few stretches. The exhale you released at least took some tension out of your shoulders but not much. It felt strange feeling so anxious about this. It wasn’t that you weren’t confident in yourself, well not really. You knew you were good-looking and had a decent enough personality. But there was something that just keeps sticking in your mind. “Well, the last man I dated was a complete douchebag who cheated on me and then expected me to just be okay with it and get over it. On top of that was mutant prejudice, which didn’t make sense because why date me then? And then the last man I had any type of intimacy with was basically a stranger at the time and had to consol me from a nightmare after being white girl wasted. Basically, just a complete and utter embarrassment to myself. And now this very fine grown ass man has asked me out and all I’ve done for the last couple of months is make a complete fool out of myself. And truly can I even trust my own judgement at this point. What if he’s secretly really shitting and I just look past any red flags?” You spewed that out all in one breath, breathing heavily after you were done. It did feel a bit better to get it all out and say what was weighing on you. “Bitch, be serious.” Cat disapproving words smacking you in the face, “First of all, he literally met you at the top of your game, bought you a painting, and is showing genuine interest in you that isn’t about sex. Your ex is stalking you; you should get Wade to do something about that by the way and is a loser and is ugly. And that sexy neighbor absolutely has a crush on you, plus, if that situation was so bad do you think he would have still came over your house at all. I don’t think so! You are a bad bitch and will always be a bad bitch. Just keep being the bad bitch that you are. Put on some Megan Thee Stallion and take a shot.” You gently exhale out a laugh, “You’re right, I just need to get out of my head. I am a bad bitch” “Da baddest bitch!” “DA BADDEST!” you repeat, letting out a genuine laugh at the encouragement. “Ass like Trina! Face like Mya!” “You’re right, you’re right. I know, I know.” You finally pick your phone up, showing off your final decided look “I’m that girl, forever will be that girl” “Speaking of girl, I also have a date of some sort. So as much as I would love to continue holding your hand through this, my fingers are needed elsewhere.” Cat says smugly, wiggling her fingers at the camera. “Oh, get on you freak” You laugh as she blows you a kiss before hanging up. You knew she was right; she always is. It was silly times like these that make you truly cherish Cat as a friend, even if it’s outlandish she always knows what to say to get you in the right headspace.

Checking the time; it was almost time to meet up with him at the restraint. As a woman, even a capable strong mutant woman, you had to put your safety first. Always take yourself on the first date with a stranger, that’s just the rules. Even though you’ve met him and he has your number, it doesn’t make him any less of a stranger. He did try to be a gentleman and pick you up but when you politely declined, he didn’t even seem bothered by that. He genuinely seemed like a good guy, and you were excited for the date.

Now, you wouldn’t ever call a man perfect, but he sure was close. When you arrived at the restraint, he was already standing outside waiting for you with his hands behind his back showcasing his broad chest. As soon as the taxi parked, he strides over to open the car door for you before helping you out.

“Hi.” Joelle breathes out, a charming smirk on his face, “You look beautiful.”

Oh, why would he say that? Now you’re feeling hot all over again. “Uhm thank you, you look handsome as well.” Mentally you are kicking yourself for how lame that sounded. Before you could over think even more, he pulls out a purple eyed lily from behind his back. It was an absolutely beautiful flower; one you used frequently in your paintings.

“I would have gotten you a bouquet, but I didn’t want you to have the hassle of taking it home with you.” He gently grabs your hand, placing the flower in it before bringing it up to his lips for a small kiss. It took all your strength not to drop your jaw; you couldn’t even speak. Joelle just smiles at your silence before sliding his hand onto your lower back, guiding you into the restaurant. Oh shit, you may actually fall for this man.

The date was going so well, he had you giggling all the way through the appetizer. It was all great until the waiter came out with your entrée. By accident, as he was placing your meal in front of you, he knocked over your wine. There wasn’t much left in it, thankfully, but some did get on your outfit. You excuse yourself to the bathroom to clean up. This, at least, gave you the opportunity to update Cat on how well it was going, knowing she won’t get the message until probably the wee hours of the morning. But you knew she would still be expecting to hear something.

You touched up your makeup, making sure to reapply perfume and lotion, looking good, smelling good, feeling soft. After taking a quick selfie, you make your way back to the table.  Joelle stood giving you a once over before pulling out your chair for you to sit. Despite that small setback, you didn’t even feel embarrassed about it with how kind and concerned Joelle was. Now, you were laughing along to a story he was telling about a time his art piece was vandalized.

“You know, I make art to evoke emotion, I want to put art on display to make people feel something, but I never thought someone would come and throw blood on a painting. It wasn’t even made of real fur, so I have no clue why PETA even protested to begin with.”  His deep chuckle brings warmth to your face.

“I think they have the right idea but usually bad execution.” Laugher blooming from your chest as you begin on your entrée, a perfectly cooked steak. But as you cut into it, you applied just a bit too much lotion causing the knife to slip, slicing across your other hand.

You drop your utensils on the plate, cursing, everyone’s eyes are drawn to your table. Before you can even react, Joelle is already reaching over with a napkin pressing down on your wound. In that moment, panic sets in. You didn’t tell him you were a mutant, and this is not the way you wanted him to find out.

“You don’t have to do that, I’m fine. I’m fine,” eyes wide, over explain how it was no big deal but that doesn’t stop him from coming to the side of your table. He didn’t even let go of your hand while he made his way to you. Why? Why did he have to be such a gentleman?

All you could think was ‘No’ repeatedly, but you froze, you couldn’t move, and you couldn’t stop him. He looked into your frightened eyes, reassuring you that it was all right. Before he even finished wiping off the blood, you already knew your hand. As he goes to inspect the possible damage on your hand, confusion starts appearing on his face as if it were happening in slow motion. Everything in you was telling you to run, to make like a bat out of hell.

“Oh,” He lets go of your hand, taking a step back. As he looks up from your hand to your face, the fear was obvious in your eyes, tears start burning them slightly, “You’re a mu---”

Your body moves on instinct, not allowing him to finish his sentence bolting out of the restaurant.  You moved so fast that you didn’t even know if he was following or calling out after you, you were gone. As you speed walk, almost running down the street, you curse yourself for being careless, you curse yourself for not driving and taking a taxi instead. The last thing you want is to draw attention to yourself or for him to catch up with you.  Blurry tear-filled eyes as you pull out your phone calling Cat. She doesn’t answer, making you curse. You knew she was probably face first in some girl right now, she had not even responded to your earlier message. The only good thing was that you were familiar with this area, weaving through people and ducking off into an alley that if you didn’t know where you were going you would be lost.

 Wade is your second choice, dialing his number feeling like someone was following you, you speed up your pace. He answers almost immediately. Thanking the universe for that at the very least.

“Hey Wade,” you say, your breathing heavy from being out of breath. You were about to ask if he could come get you until your heard Vanessa’s voice in the back and you stopped yourself, “oh you’re with Vanessa never mind, it’s fine.”

Before you can hang up, he stops you, “Now hold on, tell Daddy what’s wrong.”

“Nothing. I’m fine Wade, the date just sucked.” Voice wavers as you speak, he can tell that there is something wrong, but with how stubborn and independent you are, if he pushed it, you would just hang up. You can hear Vanessa's voice in the back again asking Wade questions, you cannot make out what either of them is saying. Vanessa's voice hits your ear right before you go to hang up.

“We are having Logan come get you,” She starts and before you can even speak, she cuts you off, “And I know you can take care of yourself. I know you’re a bad ass mutant. And I know all the important things. But I also know you and it would make me happy if you would let Logan pick you up.”

You sigh, resigning to your fate, she wouldn’t let it go and would make Wade get you instead which would ruin his time with Vanessa, and you didn’t want that. “Yeah fine,” You sigh again taking in your surroundings, you see a familiar diner near you, “You can have him come get me from James.”

“The diner?” She asks and you repeat it back to her as confirmation. With that confirmation, you hang up the phone and head into the diner. You didn’t even realize that you were still crying until the regular waitress sets down a cup of coffee and a few napkins.

“Might wanna clean yourself up, sweetie.” She suggests. You grab the napkin holder using it as a makeshift mirror to clean your makeup smeared face. “And here,’ she says before taking a flask out of her apron, unscrewing it and pouring a chestnut brown liquid in your coffee cup.

You give her a small smile as you pick up the cup, “Thank you,” you take a huge swig, the bitter taste of the black coffee and the strong dark liquor making your face scrunch up.

“There we go,” She chuckles at your discomfort, “Now let me get you some pie and I ain’t taking no for an answer”

You sigh, thanking her again as you sip on your spiked coffee. As you look down at your coffee, every time the door chimes you look up hoping that it is Logan and hoping it isn’t Joelle. Finally, your pie arrived with a scoop of ice cream topped with whipped cream. The sweet confection lifting your spirit. As your having your moment with your pie, the door sounds just as you stuff a huge bite in your mouth, and luckily or unluckily it is Logan. The two of you lock your eyes as you close your mouth around the spoon.

“They sent me to get you,” He groans sliding into the booth across from you.

You quickly try to chew and swallow, wiping your mouth with a nearby napkin, not realizing it had whipped cream on it getting all over your nose, “Yeah, sorry, they wouldn’t really let me say no. But thanks really”

Logan sighs, grabbing another napkin, and wiping off the cream from your nose, your eyes going wide as you quickly pull back. You quickly wipe your arm across your face like a child. You knew you looked like a mess; sure, you still looked sweaty, roots were reverting, and makeup was smudged and runny surely looking like shit. Your eyes dart down to your desert, tense putting your spoon down getting ready to leave.

“Go ahead and finish, then we can go.” His voice deep and husky, you look up at him as he settles himself into the booth, crossing his arms before gesturing for you to continue eating. Relaxing, you nod looking back down at your desert, picking your spoon back up with a small smile. Now sitting here, eating pie, everything felt so silly to you, stupid even. You ran off from a date like some child because you were too afraid of what Joelle thought once he found out that you were a mutant. It was strange, even though you were just getting to know Joelle it felt like you had to put a performance on for him, you felt you could only show someone like him your good sides. The thought made you look up at Logan, every time you were with him, it felt easy. It wasn’t the fact that the two of you were both mutants, it was as if from the moment he met you, he understood you and his eyes never cast any judgement on you. They were always soft, kind even, there was just something about the way he looked at you. It was…...nice. As you’re lost in your thoughts staring at Logan, he seems to notice while a small scowl crossing his face.

“What kid??” He asks in his usually grumpy tone.

You scoff, “Nothing,” spoon still in your mouth as you mumble, “Not a kid.” Your cheeks puffing out a bit as they’re inflated with air. Cute. That’s what Logan thought, you were cute even though you looked like an absolute mess, even though you were pouting like a child, you were still so cute, beautiful even. The thought made Logan’s scowl deepen, these were not the kind of thoughts he enjoyed having especially not about you. He tried hard not to watch you finish that pie. The cute way your nose crinkled up with every bite like it was the best thing you have ever eaten. Ugh, you were doing something to him, and he hated that.

“Alright you’re done, let’s go.” He stands up from the booth, placing some bills on the table as he takes off his jacket, handing it to you. You huffed, shoving the jacket back to him.

“Don’t need it.” You claim as you follow him outside, he groans in response turning to you before manhandling you into the jacket. Surprisingly, you don’t put up much of a fight as he thought you would have. Even so, he zipped up jacket aggressively turning away to walk towards a motorcycle that was on the curb. Okay, well now it makes sense as to why he wanted you to wear the jacket, you were also kind of cold. Following behind him, as he grabs the helmet from the handlebar turning back to you placing it on your head and securing it properly. He taps the top of the helmet once it is secure, smirking at you while you scowl. Logan doesn’t even wait to hear your complaints before swinging his leg over the bike and turning it on, he points a thumb behind him gesturing for you to get on the back. With the roll of your eyes, that cannot be seen behind the darkened visor, but Logan feels it, as you settle behind him placing your hands gingerly on his waist.

He looked back at you before pulling off, “You should probably hold on.” That’s all the warning you got before he took off. You shoot back, forcing you to completely wrap your arms around his waist, gripping on tightly. After you regulated yourself, you stabbed one of your nails between Logans ribs, that surprisingly got a chuckle out of him, you could feel it reverberating through his back onto your face. His back was warmer than you expected, comforting, unconsciously you snuggled closer into him. The feeling of his breathing and the hum from the bike relaxing you. It was a nice ride back home, the earlier problems of the night melting away from your thoughts as you savored his warmth. The ride ended too quickly for your liking; you try to give him back his helmet and jacket, but he just ignores it.

“Thanks again for coming to get me” slightly awkwardly, shifting your feet gripping the jacket closer to your chest. His scent was still strong on it, wafting up to your nose as you held it close. He just grunts in acknowledgement as he properly parks his bike before turning back toward you, eyes piercing. You knew he wasn’t much of a talker anyway, that didn’t stop you from wanting him to say something. Anything.

“Alright, thanks again. I guess I’ll see you later. Yeah?” You asked almost hopefully. What you were hoping for you didn’t particularly know.

“Yeah, later.” His voice low and husky, pulling out a cigar from somewhere. “Night kid.”

You puffed out your cheeks in annoyance again, “not a kid.”

The exhaustion in your bones makes you decide to take the rickety elevator instead of the stairs because you literally couldn’t even be bothered with that tonight. Luckily, you got safely to your floor, you couldn’t wait to take your heels off. As you walk down the hall towards your apartment you see a familiar silhouette by your door. Confusion sweeps over your face as the person turns to you, worry written all over theirs.