can i be terribly pathetic for a moment. bradley preston's stupid little wink when he's trying to be charming? it kills me. do you always wink at women you think are unattractive? what's wrong with you? in my mind this is exactly why linda thought he was flirty at the christmas party
— summary: after dunk mistakes you for lyonel’s daughter, your husband notices how much the hedge knight seems to like you, so he offers him to spend a night with both of you—poor dunk doesn't know if he's being serious or if it's just a cruel joke, either way, he's down for it!
— pairing: lyonel baratheon x wife!reader
— word count: ~1.4k
— content: +18 (minors dni!), established marriage, controversially young wife!reader, humor, possessive!lyonel, himbo!dunk, romance, suggestive and sexual themes, pda.
⋆ . ۰˚ ౨ৎ ── series masterlist with different characters’ versions: here!
The atmosphere in the Baratheon tent is thunderous, to say the least. Wine flows like a river from one side to the other, and Lyonel’s laughter carries through the room, naturally. He is in a good mood tonight, perhaps a little too good.
You, meanwhile, are seated beside him, dressed in a golden silk gown that shows off your youthful beauty and innate grace, attracting the attention of veteran lords and young knights alike, including some women, who don’t hesitate to send you a flirtatious wink or an all-too-friendly smirk when they’re near enough at your high table.
Lyonel is fascinated. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, a crooked smile on his face, enchanted by your ability to hold a quick-witted conversation with some lord whose name he can’t even be bothered to remember, and then laugh heartily at some vulgar joke from his personal guard in a matter of seconds. You are a breath of fresh air on a far too drunken night.
“You look particularly ravishing tonight, my lady,” Lyonel flirts, leaning close to your ear, his words thick and husky with wine and arousal. “If you keep smiling like that, I’ll have to duel half the people in the room just to have a minute alone with you.”
You laughed softly, lightly poking him in the arm to remind him to behave. “Lord Baratheon, if you can’t defend your place beside me, then perhaps you don’t deserve to be here at all.”
Lyonel roars with mirth at your provocative words, and just as his hand is threatening to slide down your thigh, a towering presence eclipses the lamplight in front of you.
You both turn to look at the intruder, and Ser Duncan the Tall stands towering before you, seeking the host—or rather, you. He has not been able to tear his eyes away from you ever since he stepped into the tent, enthralled by your beauty and charm. A crown rests beautifully on your head, with pretty detailing of intertwined golden little antlers that gleam in the light, but your eyes—they shine like blazing stars as they rise up through his entire body until they find his.
Surely you know who he is, your husband had been talking nonstop about the tall knight he had met but a couple of days ago, the tallest he had ever seen—and one of the prettiest too.
You've never doubted Lyonel's taste. Ser Duncan has a gorgeous face, big blue eyes that radiate an unsullied innocence you'd love to corrupt, perfectly plump lips, and a well-defined jawline. His shoulders are broad, his arms big and strong—everything about him seems... oversized.
You can see why Lyonel is so interested in him.
Duncan gulps audibly.
“Lord Lyonel,” he greets with an awkward bow of his head, his voice is so deep that you can’t help but tilt your head, caught up in his gaze.
“Ser Duncan!” Lyonel cheerfully greets him back, beaming with delight at the sight of him. “I knew you’d come back here. No one hosts better feasts than us Baratheons, huh?”
The auburn-haired man nods his head, a sheepish, sweet smile flitting across his lips, his gaze flickering from Lyonel’s smiling face to yours as you watch the interaction in silence, aware of your husband’s obvious enthusiasm.
“Aye, I just wanted to say that the feast is a fine success, and—” Duncan trails off, glancing at you again, his light blue eyes sweeping down to where your lips wrap around the rim of your wine glass. “And how fortunate you are to have your daughter accompanying you tonight. She is such a graceful and beautiful girl, my lord. Truly, the gem of the Stormlands.”
You almost choked on the sip of wine you'd been trying to gulp down as Lyonel falls into a sudden and uncharacteristic silence at your side. Fortunately, no one else has heard what the hedge knight just said, as the party bustles on around you.
“My... daughter?” your husband scowls, the hint of offense evident in his voice, and then turns to look at you, catching sight of the small, amused smile you try to cover up as you wipe your lips with a napkin, dabbing away traces of wine. “Ser Duncan, I appreciate the praise of her beauty, but you are terribly mistaken.”
Lyonel’s dark gaze is overshadowed by a flicker of possessiveness, his hand slides around your waist, pulling you closer just as one of your hands comes to lie on his chest to offer reassurance.
Duncan observes the scene, feeling an icy shiver creep down his spine, bringing a heavy weight that makes his stomach churn.
Lyonel grimaces as he looks back at Ser Duncan, shaking his head in disapproval. “She is not my daughter, Ser. She is my wife.”
At the revelation, Ser Duncan’s face goes from wine-flushed to a vivid scarlet in a matter of seconds, overcome with mortification. His eyes widen so much that you can get a better peek at their beautiful color, as they dart back and forth frantically between you and Lyonel, and then to Lyonel's hand firmly planted on the curve of your waist.
“Oh? Oh—By the Seven! Forgive me, my lord! My lady! Please,” Duncan blurts out, his deep voice trembling ever so slightly with shame as he awkwardly bends down, nearly hitting the table with his forehead from bowing so low. “I... I’m a fool. I didn’t mean to insult you, t–truly. It’s just that—she’s so...”
Seeing the knight’s agony, Lyonel breaks out in a hearty laugh that reduces him to silence.
He leans forward, waving it off with a casual hand gesture, meanwhile guiding the other one in a tantalizing route across your back, sliding down to cup your arse in a playful display of possessiveness.
“Bah! It’s no big deal, Duncan,” Lyonel reassures him with amusement, leaning his chin on his palm, his elbow propped up on the table, the corners of his lips curling into a mischievous smirk. “Just a silly mistake, as you say. I admit, though, I took slight offense at your suggestion that I'm old enough to be the father to such...exquisite young lady.”
“Lyonel...” you scold him softly for his comment, leaning your head on his shoulder and enjoying the drama as well as the divided attention of both men.
“Because she is beautiful, don’t you think, Dunk?” your husband asks the poor, embarrassed knight, who keeps looking at both of you with utter mortification, his jaw pressed shut to refrain from saying anything else inappropriate. “A sweet, lovely little thing.”
He is looking at you as he speaks to Duncan, leaning close so he can kiss your lips, his eyes darkened by desire and naughtiness.
“Mmm... delicious too,” he teases, smiling slyly.
You know perfectly well where he’s heading with all this. You see through his little games and flirtations, and you delight in them.
You love your game as well, smiling coquettishly at Ser Duncan and waiting for him to express his agreement with your husband.
“M–me?” he chokes out, then gulps again. “A–aye, my lord, she is beautiful, very, her eyes are gorgeous—but—but I wouldn’t want to presume—”
Lyonel lets him continue babbling on, knowing how much you enjoy receiving flattery, his hand absentmindedly palming the curve of your bum, hidden from the eyes of the rambling Duncan in front of you.
“So, if you like my wife so much...” Lyonel eventually cuts him off, offering him a cheeky smirk brimming with anticipation, his tongue tentatively wetting his lips, “then you should spend the night with us. I think we could find more than enough fun.”
Ser Duncan is left speechless, his jaw dropping comically as his blue eyes shift frantically from your husband's amused face to your expression of feigned innocence.
“W–what? Me? Three...?” Duncan is able to sputter out, his deep voice rising to a high pitch in disbelief. His hands fly up in front of him and gesture in nervous agitation, huffing out air. “I—my lord... this—are you... are you joking?”
A bright laugh escapes your lips, and you delicately cover your mouth with one hand, your eyes flashing with amusement.
You feel Lyonel laughing too at the knight’s shocked expression.
Can you please do a dr. Robby x f!attending!cardiologist or neurologist reader 🥹🥹
because im super busy and just too distracted to do this as a full fic (i apologize 😭) i decided to write this headcannon/drabble style... i HAVE ideas but so little time to put them in actual sentences and paragraphs ughghghhh
hopefully you like it!! did not proofread this.
michael robinavitch x f!cardiologist!reader
gif not mine
- let's be real he ain't got the healthiest lifestyle
- he's a doctor so he should really be taking his own advice but he cannot resist the coffee and cigarette breaks with dana, when it's really the only kind of out he has
- it's nothing concerning at first for him when one day he wakes up to a strange pain in his chest, he pushed through, thinking it's just his back pain projecting and goes to work as usual
- they work some and when his daily smoke break with dana comes up, his chest is tightening and he's coughing strangely
- "it's nothing" he keeps deflecting but dana KNOWS
- and as the woman boss she is dana tells him to go get himself checked out... he refuses, claiming everything is fine but now he's a little freaked out at the pain and tightness in his chest
- but after another quite difficult case, when he's out of breath and grabbing at his collar and collapsing in front of everyone THAT'S WHEN he accepts help
- you're a newly appointed attending at the cardiology department and you couldn't be happier, the job is everything you'd hoped for
- usually it's the residents running around other departments doing consults, but since you've been one of them not that long ago and the er request AN ATTENDING you grab your stethoscope and run down the stairs
- what you don't expect at all is to find the old and hot af ER attending lying on the bed, hooked up to the monitor and being stabbed with an iv by the ER charge nurse
- what robby doesn't expect is you stepping inside the exam room, stethoscope in your hands, eyes big and surprise written all over your face
- he knows you.. you'd been a med student once and though you had skills to be a good ER doctor you were way too fascinated with cardiology
- since then robby's only seen you when you did consults as a cardiology resident for the er
- you were always thorough, asking the ER staff for information and their opinions before coming to your own conclusions and everyone loved working with you
- "what do we have here?" you asked in a teasing voice, eyebrows raised and robby just rolls his eyes as dana hooks him up to some fluids
- "patient refusing professional help and then collapsing after an episode of chest pains and trouble breathing... considering to call psych right after you're done with him"
- you let out a small laugh, looking over the ekg the machine just printed out
- "everything seems fine here. wanna tell me more about those pains?" you ask, casually sitting quite close next to robby on the bed, grabbing your stethoscope and putting it on his bare chest
- by the time you've become an attending you've mastered the art of listening to someone's chest while they're talking, so you didn't miss how robby's heartbeat picked up when you touched the stethoscope to the spot below his collarbone
- "it's probably nothing."
- "people don't usually just plant themselves on the floor for nothing." you look up straight into his eyes and you can hear like his heart jumps again
- he knows you know his heart does that everytime you make eyecontact
- "let's just get all basic labs plus troponin, d-dimers just to be sure," you say to dana when you finish listening to robby's chest.
- "is this really necessary?" robby asks as red creeps up his cheeks.
- "already done doc," she sends you a wink with a smile.
- robby wants to dissolve into the bed to escape this situation. he really shouldn't be so affected by a much younger attending. he feels like a teenager again.
- "i wanna do an echo."
- "i'll leave you to it then. gonna check on the labs."
- dana completely ignores robby's big pleasing eyes and draws the curtain closed
- "please lie on your left side, left hand under your head, right just... on your stomach or wherever."
- you put the bed down and start the ultrasound and let robby get into position
- you sit RIGHT BEHIND HIM your side very very much touching his back
- he's lucky he's facing the other way because he couldn't bear looking at you OR the ultrasound while you're touching him
- you put the probe in the middle of his chest and get started, taking some images and looking over his heart
- robby meanwhile is trying his best to keep still and keep his heart that you're very much checking out under control
- "everything looks fine here as well. it might've been just a fainting episode, but the chest pains are a bit concerning. i'd like to put you on holter."
- "that seems a bit extensive..." robby says, turning around, pulling the electrodes off his chest and pushing the off button on the monitor a little too agressively as it starts flatlining, and putting the scrub top back over his head.
- "well i just want to be sure everything is fine. you're an essential personnel here, we can't have you running around with some underlying condition... also people your..."
- you stop yourself before you call him out for being old
- he's not old. he's the perfect age, you think. but medicine wise, he's over the middle-age mark
- "you callin me old?"
- you flush and have to look down at your hands from embarassment
- when you finally compoae yourself you call to ur department for the holter device and all the stuff you need and get robby hooked up
- after 72h you will finally know what's going on with robby's heart
- BUT A LOT CAN HAPPEN IN 72H
- in those 3 shifts.. it's as if the bag with cardiac case broke and you're down in the ER more than ever
- robby knows... his heart KNOWS... the fucking holter knows
- so when you have him sitting in your department 3 days later and looking over the strange spikes in his heartbeat and ekg, he blames it on "tough cases" and "adrenaline rushes"
- but again... he KNOWS and you were not born yesterday yourself
- you too did realise just how more often you found yourself in the ER and had you been wearing a holter monitor, your own ekg could look a tad bit similar to robbys
- so the situation is a little difficult
- robby knows that you know that his heart rate spikes everytime he sees you AND you know that he knows that you know BUT you're both just a bunch of dumbasses to make the first move
- that's not until he finally finds the courage the next time you're in the ER doing a consult on a patient
- "one more time and you're gonna have to buy me a drink." he says with new-found courage and you look up at him with a
- "as your doctor i should probably tell you you shouldn't drink"
𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 damian wayne x fem!reader, youtuber!reader au, fluff, 2.6k+ wc.
𝑠𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠 reader and damian finally connect on instagram, leading to a sweet, slightly awkward chat that ends with damian inviting her to gotham-and her saying yes. pt. 5 of "unexpected crush?!"
Was this guy dense or something?!
It had been well over an hour since Damian and ___ had followed each other on Instagram. So why hadn’t he texted her yet?
Was he waiting on her to make the first move?
Did he fall asleep?
Could he smell her breath through the phone and got scared off when she followed him?
—Okay, that sounded ridiculous. Ugh! She couldn’t help but be ridiculous, though.
This guy was literally stunning. And rich, too—like, everything he sent her? $$$ >>>
And don’t even get her started on his abs—nom nom nom—
What did he train for? Olympic godhood? Being blessed by the divine?
‘Come on.’
‘Come on.’
‘Come onnnn, pleaseeee.’
From pacing around her room to collapsing on her vanity like a grouchy cryptid, ___ was not doing well.
With a loud sigh, she slid off and faceplanted onto the soft mattress of her bed.
‘Welp. That’s it. Just a cruel joke—’
Ding
Her heart leapt into her throat. Her eyes darted to her screen:
Damian sent you a message.
“Thank you LORD!”
She scrambled for her phone, hands shaking with excitement, a warm blush spreading fast over her cheeks. Giddiness buzzed through her.
"Hello. I'm Damian Wayne. You may call me Damian. I just wanted to let you know I like your content."
Oh wow. He sounded a bit... snobby.
Then again, he was rich.
Her giddiness dipped—but not her hope.
‘So... he’s a fan. I mean duh. He said that in his letter…’
.
.
.
‘THE LETTER! That’s it! You, dear Damian, can be as nonchalant as you want, but I have proof you’re smitten with me. Hehehehehe... Muahahahahaha—’
She tapped out a reply:
"Why the nonchalance, Dami? Don’t seem so in the letter you sent me. wink wink"
She immediately screamed into her pillow after sending it. Was she really flirting with the literal cutest guy ever—who also happened to live oceans away? Yes.
Did she care?
Yeah. She was terrified. But she had to be LeBron James and shoot her shot. Because right now, all he was being was Franz Kafka, writing letters with no action.
"Ah. You read it. I mean, of course you have. I'm sorry for being so... brass."
"Quite the opposite. You were romantic. And I liked it. A lot."
Minutes passed without a reply. Her knee bounced impatiently.
Then a small GIF popped up in the chat: a blushing kitty with "thanks" written underneath.
OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG
He was so... freaking cute.
"I'm flattered. I hope you liked the present as well. A small token of appreciation. Your videos bring me peace. I hope my present gave you as much happiness as you’ve given me peace."
She almost blacked out from the short-circuiting of her heart, brain—her entire existence.
His words... the way he typed...
His modesty. His gentleness. His respectfulness.
‘Okay... I need to chill.’
She got up, went to the mirror, and stared at her tomato-red face. Then shuffled into the bathroom, running cold water over her hands and pressing them to her cheeks, then her neck.
How could she respond? She wanted to sound respectful, but still flirt—just a little.
Ding
Her phone lit up again.
She rushed over.
"I was wondering if… you’d be interested in coming to the U.S.? More specifically—here. Gotham. Where I live. I’d love it if we could meet. Maybe for coffee?"
Oh wow.
She blinked.
She was flattered... but—
How was she supposed to explain that she couldn’t afford to travel? That she was broke broke?
Like—“sorry dudez, me no money, me brokey”???
Then another message came in:
"I’ll pay for it. For everything. I want to meet you. It doesn’t have to be now. But… hopefully in the future? We can see each other through video in the meantime. Get to know each other."
And then, as if reading her mind:
"I promise I’m not a creep. You saw my account, yeah? I... just want to... get to know you. In a... more romantic manner, if possible."
Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum
Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum
Her heartbeat thundered. She felt lightheaded.
He was being direct. With her.
But still... respectful. Thoughtful.
Her fingers trembled slightly as they hovered over the keyboard. She kept glancing back up to make sure his messages were still there, that she wasn’t hallucinating.
She reread her message before sending it.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
"Sure. I’d love that, Damian. I’d love to meet you."
In that moment, ___ felt like they were both leaning closer to their screens. Trying to close the distance. Trying to feel near, even though they were far.
Did he feel it too?
All she said was that she’d like to meet him—but somehow, it felt like a confession.
Sure. I’d love that, Damian. I’d love to meet you.
I’d love that, Damian. I love you.
She flopped back on the bed, letting her phone rest on her chest and an arm fall over her eyes.
A/N: First Victor/Malachi request, thank you @laylayschipzz !! I also love this gif, just for his cute little smile. I was also thinking about writing for Colby, form Villains of Valley View. I feel like i could come up with some real fun ones. Anyway, if you have any requests, send them my way!! Enjoy :)
Based off this comment/request: "Yess, (this is Vic x reader) so reader is a vampire and has a sort of flirty personality, they don’t mean too it’s just in their nature. Victor isn’t the biggest fan of it, and when they teamed up with the daywalkers reader started teasing them and that got Victor upset #goodendingplease"
Victor had been your childhood best friend. You'd met when you had gone out to explore what was beyond the village, only to find Victor doing the same. You're yearning to leave the village is what brought you two so close. So, when you both found out you had been picked to help with the harvest, you had secretly celebrated with a DragonFruit he had gotten from who knows where.
You both had your "icks" about each other, his biggest one for you is your constant flirting. He loves it when you flirt with him, it's mostly with him, but he hates when he sees you flirting with anyone else. He knows you don't do it on purpose, but he can't help feeling a tang of jealousy when he sees it.
On the trek to the orchard, you ran into a white-haired half alien cheer thing, who was extremely peppy. She came with you, only find the daylighters halfway to the orchard.
After the half alien, two zombies, and the werewolf call a temporary treaty, both groups trudged off to camp.
As the vampires and the daylighters were starting to get along, you and Ray started to become close. Your natural flirtation had revealed itself and Ray was basking in it. Victor however, was in the corner glaring at you as you interacted with the daywalkers.
Ray’s laugh echoed through the clearing, light and bright as he offered you another piece of dried fruit from his rations. You took it with a wink, teasing, “Trying to win me over with snacks, Ray? Dangerous game.”
Victor shifted against the trunk of the tree he was leaning on, arms crossed tight, jaw set even tighter. You felt his eyes burning into you, but you didn’t look over — not yet.
“Maybe I am,” Ray grinned, undeterred. “Is it working?”
You were about to throw back a playful response when Victor’s voice cut through the air like a knife.
“Shouldn’t you be sharpening your spear or something?” he snapped, not even bothering to mask the venom in his tone.
Ray raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Easy, man. We’re all on the same side now, remember?”
Victor didn’t answer. His eyes were fixed on you now — not angry, not amused — just raw. Like something inside him had cracked open.
You finally stood, brushing off your hands and walking over to him slowly. The others kept talking behind you, but the world felt quieter here.
“Vic,” you said, soft, careful. “What’s your deal?”
He didn’t speak right away. He looked at you like he was still debating whether to say it. Whether he was allowed to. Whether you wanted to hear it.
Then, finally:
“You flirt with everyone like it doesn’t mean anything,” he said, voice low. “But it does mean something. To me.”
You blinked. “Victor—”
“I’ve watched you make everyone feel like they’re the only one in the room. Hell, I’ve felt it myself. And maybe I’m an idiot for thinking it was different when it was me. But I’ve had enough of standing in the corner while someone else gets to feel special just because they happened to catch your eye that day.”
His words hung heavy in the air between you. For once, you had no clever comeback. Just the truth starting to stir inside your chest.
You stepped closer, lowering your voice. “It is different with you.”
Victor looked up, eyes flickering with hope he didn’t quite dare show.
“I flirt with Ray because it’s fun,” you admitted. “But I flirt with you because I can’t not. You’re not just some game to me, Victor. You never have been.”
And in the quiet beat that followed, something changed. Something shifted. Maybe it was the way he finally uncrossed his arms. Maybe it was the way his hand brushed yours without thinking. Maybe it was just the truth, at long last, settling between you like roots taking hold in the earth.
He didn’t kiss you — not yet. But the promise of it hung in the air like ripened fruit, waiting to be picked.
And for once, you didn’t feel like running. Not from the village. Not from the orchard. Not from him.
Not anymore.
Victor didn’t speak to you for the rest of the evening. Not during dinner, not when the group gathered around the campfire, and not even when you sat beside him and offered him a piece of toasted bread you’d managed not to burn. He just stared into the fire, jaw tight, fingers laced together in his lap. You knew that look — he'd worn it every time you did something reckless or dangerous growing up. But this time, it felt deeper. Like something inside him was unraveling.
You didn’t flirt with Ray again after that.
Later that night, you couldn’t sleep. The stars were too bright, the silence too loud. You found yourself wandering away from the camp and sitting on a smooth boulder just outside the trees, your arms curled around your knees.
“I thought I’d find you out here.”
You turned at the sound of his voice. Victor.
He didn’t wait for permission — he just sat beside you, not too close, but close enough that you could feel the warmth of him.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered.
“For what?” His voice was quiet, but not cold.
“For being careless. With you. With your heart.”
He let out a breath, long and slow. “You weren’t careless. You’re just…you. That’s what makes you shine so much. I just—I’ve loved you for a long time, and sometimes, it’s hard watching you give your light to everyone else.”
You blinked at him. “Victor…”
He finally turned to look at you, eyes soft, no longer angry. “But I realized something tonight. It doesn’t matter how many people you smile at. It doesn’t matter how many people think you’re magic. I’ll always be the one who knew you first. The one who climbed trees with you. Who ran through fields with you. Who shared a DragonFruit behind the barn and laughed so hard we cried.”
Your throat tightened.
He smiled, and this time it reached his eyes. “And if you’ll let me…I want to be the one who walks beside you when we finally leave this place for good.”
You leaned your head against his shoulder. “You already are.”
And under the stars, with the soft hum of night creatures around you and the weight of his hand finding yours, you both stayed there — not as childhood best friends, not as harvest helpers, not even as flirt and jealous protector.
Just as two souls who had finally stopped running — because they’d found home in each other.
Tag List:
This is my tag list for anyone who wants to be tagged in certain fics Please include “@“ before your username 🫶🏻 Formula 1 Arthur Leclerc @
Summary: A former villain seeks redemption by joining the Fantastic Four, but only Johnny Storm believes in her. As trust slowly builds, so does something deeper—love, born in the heat between them.
Word count: 3,512
The first time you stepped foot into the Baxter Building, the silence was deafening.
Not because no one was around—but because everyone was watching.
Ben Grimm crossed his arms, his rocky stance towering near the elevator doors like a personal bouncer. Sue Storm narrowed her eyes without saying a word, and Reed didn’t even look up from his tablet. The only person who offered anything close to a smile was Johnny Storm, who leaned against the wall with that crooked grin of his, arms folded casually like this was all no big deal.
Except it was a big deal.
Because you used to be the bad guy.
Or, at least, you were supposed to be.
You’d made mistakes—stupid, desperate mistakes when you aligned with the wrong people, with motives that weren’t all that pure. But you’d gotten out before it went too far. You’d helped stop a major attack. You’d turned yourself in. You’d faced the system and survived it.
Now? You were trying to do something no one thought you could.
Start over.
With the Fantastic Four, of all teams.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” Ben said, voice like a low rumble. “I don’t care how many ‘second chances’ you get, I got my eye on you.”
You nodded slowly. “Fair enough.”
Sue didn’t speak, just walked past you with an unreadable look.
Reed murmured something under his breath about trust being a fragile variable.
But Johnny?
He winked.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “You’ll win them over.”
Week One
It was brutal.
No one talked to you unless they had to. Missions were strictly professional. You stayed in the guest wing, where your bed felt colder than the cell you’d been released from. You offered help, ideas, tech modifications—but were met with shrugs or polite deflections.
Except from Johnny.
He brought you coffee without asking how you took it. He started leaving fireproof gloves on your workbench. He cracked jokes in meetings to fill the awkward silences. And he defended you—always.
“She helped save a train full of kids, Reed,” Johnny said after your second mission, when Reed side-eyed your suggestion to reroute power through a damaged panel. “You gonna tell her she doesn’t know what she’s doing?”
“She worked with Mole Man,” Reed muttered. “Forgive me if I’m cautious.”
“She also helped take him down.”
You didn’t say anything. You didn’t have to. Johnny’s voice carried enough conviction for both of you.
Week Three
You were in the training room when it happened.
A malfunction. A misfire. A sudden surge of electricity that exploded out of a faulty cannon. You didn’t have time to think—only to act.
You shoved Johnny out of the way just as the blast hit, sending you skidding across the floor, your shoulder slamming into the wall.
When you came to, Johnny was crouched beside you, his hand hovering near your face.
“You okay?” he asked, eyes wild.
You blinked through the haze, then gave a weak thumbs-up.
The rest of the team was silent.
That night, you found a plate of cookies outside your door with a note scribbled in messy handwriting:
“You’ve got great reflexes. Remind me never to play dodgeball with you. —J”
Week Five
You were starting to smile again.
Not in a loud, overconfident way—but in the quiet, unfamiliar way of someone who was finally being seen as more than their past.
You and Johnny fell into an easy rhythm. Morning coffee. Training sessions. He’d text you gifs at 2 a.m. You’d leave notes in his locker with sarcastic doodles. He started calling you “Matchstick Jr.” just to get a rise out of you.
But the real turning point came during a mission downtown.
A rogue android had broken into a power station. Chaos erupted. Civilians were trapped. You were the closest one near the control panel. You could override the system—but you had to do it from the inside. Reed told you to wait. Sue warned it was unstable.
But Johnny? He looked at you and nodded.
“I trust her,” he said. “Go.”
And you did.
You dove into the fray, hacked the core, and shut it down—just before the place went up in smoke.
Later, when the team regrouped, Reed finally looked at you with something resembling respect.
Ben even gave you a gruff pat on the back.
But the only praise you cared about came when Johnny nudged your shoulder and said softly, “Told you they’d come around.”
You found him on the rooftop, sitting on the ledge with his legs dangling over the edge, flames flickering at his fingertips.
“You okay?” you asked, approaching slowly.
He glanced back. “Yeah. Just thinking.”
You sat beside him, the cool night air brushing your skin.
“Thinking about what?”
He exhaled, watching the glow dance in his hand. “How weird it feels… caring this much about something again.”
You were quiet for a moment.
“About the team?”
“No,” he said. “About you.”
Your breath caught.
He looked at you, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. “You know, I’ve dated people. Fun flings. Big chemistry. But no one ever made me want to stay still. Not until you.”
You swallowed, heart thudding.
“I didn’t expect any of this,” you admitted. “I didn’t even think I’d be allowed to feel normal again.”
“You’re not normal,” he said, a grin tugging at his lips. “You’re amazing. You’re brilliant. Brave. You bake those dumb cookies that taste like dreams. You fix Reed’s junk tech when no one’s looking. You got Ben to laugh. And you make me feel like I’m not just some hothead with a catchphrase.”
You stared at him, trying to read between the heat lines.
“I think I’m falling for you,” he said.
You didn’t say anything at first.
Instead, you leaned in—close enough that your forehead touched his, the fire warming your cheeks.
“I think I already fell.”
The next morning, everything was different.
And not in a good way.
Reed found out. Ben found out. Sue found out. You didn’t hide it—didn’t feel like you should.
But they didn’t take it well.
“You’re letting feelings get in the way of judgment,” Reed said flatly. “This could compromise the team.”
“She was a villain,” Ben reminded him. “You don’t just forget that.”
“She risked her life for us—twice,” Johnny shot back.
“You don’t know what else she’s capable of,” Sue said. “You don’t know her.”
Johnny’s fists clenched. “Maybe not. But I know how she makes me better. Isn’t that what we’re all trying to be?”
The argument ended in silence.
But the tension? It didn’t fade.
A week later, a mission went wrong.
An old associate from your past—someone you thought had disappeared—showed up and accused you of still being on his payroll. Accused you of setting the team up.
You denied it. Swore you had nothing to do with it. That you’d changed. That you’d prove it.
But the damage was done.
Reed locked down your access. Sue avoided you. Ben wouldn’t even meet your eyes.
Johnny stood by you. But it was different now.
“He said you helped him plan the trap,” Reed said that night in the lab. “And frankly, we don’t have proof that you didn’t.”
“Except that I didn’t,” you said quietly. “You can check my logs, my tracking, my everything. I’ve got nothing to hide.”
Reed looked away.
You turned to Johnny, your heart heavy. “I should go.”
He reached for you. “No. Please don’t.”
You gave him a tired smile. “I can’t fight both the world and your family, Johnny. Not forever.”
It was Sue who found you first.
Three days later. On a rooftop in Queens, helping evacuate a building after a collapse. No cameras. No press. Just you and dust and cracked fingernails as you pulled a little girl out from under a beam.
Sue watched from a distance.
Didn’t say anything.
But later that night, when you returned to your temporary flat, there was a note under your door.
“We were wrong. Come home. —S”
You stood outside the Baxter Building, heart pounding.
You hadn’t seen Johnny in days.
The elevator ride felt eternal.
When the doors opened, he was already there—waiting in the hallway like he never moved.
His hair was messy. His hoodie was wrinkled. And the second he saw you, his eyes lit up like the sun.
“You came back,” he whispered.
“I never really left,” you replied.
He pulled you into a hug so tight it knocked the air out of your lungs.
“I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder,” he murmured.
“You did,” you said. “You always did.”
They never really said the words, but over time, things settled.
Reed apologized in his own way—by inviting you back to the lab.
Ben offered you a rematch in ping pong.
Sue gave you a soft, real smile.
And Johnny?
He kissed you every chance he got.
One night, as you curled into him on the couch, wrapped in one of your soft blankets, he whispered:
“You know what they say about fire?”
You tilted your head. “What?”
“It doesn’t just destroy. It warms. It glows. It lights the way.”
I crave a good fluffy fic with wolverine, his wife is a badass and when someone threatens him she loses her shit and kicks their ass🫡 with so much disrespect.
hey baby, I'm so sorry for taking so long! I hope you enjoy what I did, it's a bit more violent than you probably wanted.
summary - a dumb 'bad guy' lures you and your husband out, things take an escalated turn when he threatens your husband.
warning - SUPER violent, like extreme level probably, swearing, mentions of sex, dude talks of touching what's his but nothing triggering, dick and balls suffer rip.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips
You couldn’t believe this guy, he was really threatening your husband right in front of you. Thinking he was all tough because he could throw fire or some shit? You didn’t know what he could do, except talk a lot of shit. That was probably his power. What was his name again? Captain Talks Shit? Shits A lot? Little Fucker? Who cares, all you care about right now is that he’s threatening your man.
You walk out of the shadows, having heard enough because honestly. Why do the bad guys always talk for so long? Have none of them realised or picked up from past bad guys mistakes? It was tiring and a waste of your time because you and Logan could’ve been gone by now, screwing each other silly, probably somewhere extremely risky. But, noooo. You had to listen to this jackass.
“Listen, dick licker. If you don’t stop threatening my fucking husband. I’m going to rip your arm off and beat you with it.” You growl, moving to stand in front of Logan. (Sure, he would have protected himself and it may look weak to the other guy that a woman is standing in front of an extremely large man, in more ways than one, wink wink. But you happen to know that this turns your husband on and who are you to deny him his fantasies?)
“Is that a threat?” Captain Dipshit sneers.
“Did it sound like a fucking compliment, Princess?” You watch as he eyes you, sizing you up and in his mind he’s probably thinking ‘yeah, I can take this chick.’ You hope his ego deflates before you kill him.
“Listen, Babe. This is between us men, now why don’t you run along and go make us a sandwich or something. Maybe put on some cute lingerie and wait for me in the bedroom ‘cause once I’m done with your husband here. You’ll be creamin’ around me.”
Logan shakes his head, stepping way back. He remembered when he accidentally said something similar and he was in a coma for a whole month, not even his fast healing could help him.
It was like a switch turning on, the beast that lived within you had been released from its cage and not even God could save this man now. You stalked towards him, he still smirked thinking he was safe. You jump, wrapping your legs around his neck and twisting, bringing him down using a move your good friend Natasha had taught you. You move swiftly while he is down, sending a harsh kick to his face, hearing the satisfying crack of his nose and possibly jaw breaking. You grab him by his hair and lift him, a large grin covering your face as you bring him eye level with you.
“You wanna repeat that, Princess?” You bring him closer, whispering in his ear. “How bout you go make me a sandwich, put on a cute set and I’ll bash your dick in with a baseball bat. How do ya like the sound of that? Cause I love it.”
He struggles within your grip, trying to swing at you but with your other hand that isn’t gripping his hair. You snap his arms, relishing in the sound of bones breaking. His screams echo the warehouse, dumbarse had lured us in here without a backup plan or backup.
You let go of your grip on his hair, immediately switching to gripping his throat instead. “You don’t like my plan, Princess? Rethinking the whole thing? Cause ya already pissed me off by threatening the man I love, but then you had the balls to say THAT? Tell me, Princess. Just between us girls. Did mummy not give you any hugs as a kid? Cause how did you think this was gonna go? You could’ve ‘killed’ the Wolverine, but he wouldn’t have stayed dead. No. But if he heard you touching me, touching what’s HIS. He would’ve torn you to shreds, but slowly. Very slowly. It’s what makes me love him.” You pat the man’s cheek, grinning as he winces.
“How bout an apology and I won’t kill you.”
“F–fuck you.” He spits at you, SPITS. Not even clear fucking spit, this shit has blood in it. You lift your hand, wiping the spit with the back of it and then onto his clothes.
Your face screwed up. “Well, that was stupid.” With quick movements, you throw him, watching him crash into a wall so hard that it leaves a dent. Your hand reaches out and a bat flies into it. “You’re not wearing that cute set and I don’t have a sandwich, but this will do.” He tries to shuffle away, his eyes wide. You stalk toward him and swing, smashing his dick and balls with one hit. Think Superman merged with Hulk strength, how do you think his twig and berries did?
A scream rips out of his mouth before his eyes roll back and he falls backwards. You frown and poke him with your bat. “Hey mista, you dead?” You look at Logan, “Bitch passed out.” He shakes his head at the pout on your lips.
He walks over and places a kiss on your head, “C’mon, let’s go home now or better yet. You ready to do something real risky, Sweets.” Your eyes light up.
“Do you mean…?!”
Logan nods, smirking. “I’ll finally let you fuck me while I drive.” Your squeals escape as you jump into his arms, smothering his face with kisses.
“OH THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! You’re the best husband a woman could ask for!” And with that, Logan carries you out as you stare at him dreamily.
