#((ooc - out of croissants))

[stardustedwanderer]

"...We're not dead yet, are we? It'll all be f i n e"

Do you like timeloops? Existential crisis? Rock Paper Scissors.. [Indie RP Blog - Transcribed by Glitch]

About | Rules

[championsofthegate]

What is your ideal vacation destination?

//honestly I'd like to see more of Europe! I've decided since the world is going to shit and I can't afford to move out and buy a house I might as well travel instead XD

I think Spain was next on our list of places to go in Europe (eventually lol it still involves saving up.) We went to France last summer and it was amazing. I would go back to France and just camp out at a patisserie for a week tbh lmao

But also! I'd love to go to Ireland I really just want to experience the world lmao

[toxichem]

hahaha! 2 am! time to ramble when no one will see it!

[sanctamater]

omg i get to go home to ontario this week : >

[bruhstories]

sweet like honey ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

summary: logan ended up spending his evenings in the bar across the street from your bakery, watching you do your job. he never approached you, never talked to you, but he always kept an eye on you, until he has a bad feeling. pairing: logan x fem!reader warning & content: swearing, violence, reader almost gets assaulted (but logan saves the day), she/her pronouns for reader, wade being wade, unprotected p in v, fluff, angst, lots of baking and mentions of food, slightly ooc logan (if you squint), slow burn, sex in a bakery wc: 6k

a/n: i don't always write, but when i do, it's a fucking thesis. unedited.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Logan was never a fan of sweets. He hated chocolate, cheesecake, gummy bears — literally anything sweet. The only thing he could barely stomach was tiramisu, and only because it had coffee in it. Other than that, he steered away from sweets like they were the fucking plague.

Yet despite all that, he found himself enjoying the smell of freshly baked croissants, custard donuts, brownies, and whatever goods you baked in your little bakery, conveniently situated across the street from his go-to bar.

Cleverly named Flour Power, it was all pastel both inside and out, with little pots of hyacinths hanging from its window and a big sign above the entrance. Not that Logan ever went there, but he always walked past it when he went for a drink. Flour Power stood out from all the shops with its baby blue windowsills and bubblegum pink door. As much as he disliked vibrant colours, his eyes were always drawn to the bakery. But not because of how it looked or the way it smelled.

No, Logan strategically sat down by the window in the bar to see you. Every evening, he watched you sell everything you had on display, from wedding cakes to éclairs, greetings customers with a warm smile on your face. He watched you turn the sign from open to closed, lock the door, clean the display shelves, the counters, the only two tables and four chairs inside, and sweep and mop the floors. Then you disappeared in the back for a while, perhaps doing the dishes or preparing dough and frosting, before you walked out, locked the door again, pulled down the blinds over the big window on the right side of the door, and left.

It became a ritual for Logan to watch you. In a way, it brought him some peace, despite him never speaking to you. To him, you were innocence personified, the type of girl who made others feel better simply by being there, and he didn't want to disturb that peace.

Tonight was an ordinary night for the 200 year old mutant. He swirled the whiskey in his glass, drank it all, then went to the bar to ask for another round, killing time until you closed the bakery, then he could finally go back to the apartment. You closed at 7 for clients and left at 8:30 every evening except for Sundays, when you didn't work. Logan knew your schedule a little to well, even knew you opened for clients at 8 in the morning, but you were there much earlier, because he could smell the pastries at around half 6. This time, however, you seemed to have a bit more work. It was past 9, it was dark, and you still hadn't left, and Logan was slightly concerned.

He watched you like a hawk, how you tucked rebellious strands of hair behind your ear when you mopped the floor, how you wiped your hands on your cute little apron after you finished scrubbing the countertops. Logan thought you had extra orders from customers, perhaps a wedding cake. He scrunched his nose at the thought of having to try so many flavours only to pick a damn cake that he probably wouldn't enjoy anyway.

But finally, you were done.

It was almost 10 when you locked the door to the bakery, double checking to make sure it wouldn't budge. Then the blinds and off you went. Logan was satisfied to see you go, but the hairs on his back suddenly stood up, his nostrils filled with the scent of danger. Bitter, sour, it went straight to his brain, and so he finished his drink and left the bar, following you down the street but keeping a safe distance.

You walked past a group of drunk men, gripping your tote bag with your left hand and your keys with your right one. You've learned to place the keys between your fingers, like claws, in case someone attacked you. Going home at that time wasn't something you enjoyed, and you always tried to avoid working late, but sometimes that was inevitable. When you heard footsteps approaching you, you picked up the pace, but paranoia kicked in, and you didn't want whoever was following you to find out where you lived, and so you took a detour.

Logan was like your shadow, going everywhere you went, until he heard something drop in a dimly lit alleyway and he sped up, finding you round a corner, pinned to a wall by a man while another guy had his hand up your dress. It was too dark to see, but Logan didn't need eyes to know that was you. He could smell the vanilla extract and icing sugar and fear.

"Take my wallet!" You told the men, but they weren't there for the money. They wanted something else from you.

"Nah, doll, I'll take something else from you. Somethin' more precious than money." One of the men said, his breath reeking of alcohol, the cheap kind.

"Hurry up and fuck her, bro, I need my turn-"

Something flashed, then a shadow lunged at the second guy who couldn't even finish his sentence before he was struck down.

"Mike?" The man who pinned you against the wall asked, his hands trembling on your body. "Stop fucking around."

But Mike was seeing stars somewhere on the alleyway. It happened so quickly you couldn't understand what was going on. When your eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, you saw him, rough, handsome and very, very angry.

"Who the fuck are you?" The man asked, but all he got in response was a guttural growl. "Hey, man, I don't want any trouble. My girlfriend and I were just talking. Stay out of it." He grabbed you by the neck, dragging you away from Logan.

You seized the opportunity and wrestled out of his grasp by biting your assaulter's hand, dashing behind a bin.

"Ow! Fucking bitch!" He lunged at you, but Logan was quicker, piercing his claws through his shoulder and holding him in place.

"That's no way to talk to a lady." The mutant snarled, and you watched how his claws retracted before he punched the man in the face, effectively knocking him down.

He was the Wolverine. You had seen it all over the news, how he saved your universe, how he came from a different world. You couldn't believe he was the one helping you when you thought no one would save you in that moment.

"You alright, kid?" His raspy voice startled you and you barely nodded, still too shocked to move or speak. "You sure?"

You shook your head and tears rolled down your cheeks as you finally started to process what just happened. Logan scrunched his nose — comforting someone wasn't his strongest skill — and instead he picked up your bag and keys from the pavement.

"Shit, um, don't cry." He handed you your belongings, and you looked up at him with a frown.

How could you not cry when you saw your entire life flashing before your eyes? Logan swallowed a lump in his throat and offered his hand to help you stand up. You looked at his hand, reluctant to grab it. The only thing he could compare you with was a cat — cautious, yet curious.

"No claws." He said when he understood the meaning behind your eyes. "Come, I'll- um, I'll walk you home."

The invitation had you perk up and gain courage, and you quietly took the bag from his hand. He walked with you in complete silence, until you stopped in front of a building. You lingered, unwilling to go in. Logan asked if that was your place, and after you nodded, he offered to take you all the way to your apartment, which made you feel relieved. He could see it on your face when you sighed. You guided him up the stairs, constantly looking behind you to make sure he was there.

You stopped in front of a tall wooden door, keys in hand.

"Go on. I'll wait until you lock the door." Logan encouraged you.

"Can you stay?" You finally spoke, and your voice was sweet like honey, fitting for a baker.

"I don't know, kid-"

"Please." You looked at him with glossy eyes, pupils blown from the fear that hadn't left your body yet. The fear he could still smell.

"Yeah. Okay, I'll stay."

"Thank you."

Logan followed you in, and you flipped the light switch on before locking the door behind him. He looked around and, just as he expected, the apartment was a direct reflection of your bakery — clean, colourful and calm. There were recipes stuck to the walls with pink pins, and between them little paintings of sunsets, skies, flowers, cats. All things cute. They weren't framed, and so Logan figured they were hand-made, his assumptions confirmed by the easel in the corner of your living room.

Of course your sofa had to be colourful, too — mustard yellow with sage green cushions and blankets. Even your curtains were sage green. Despite the explosion of colours, Logan found himself enjoying being there. Not everything had to be brown, black and grey, he thought. Probably the only vibrant thing in his life was his suit, since the only people that brought colour were his friends, and they were gone.

"Drink?" You cracked the walls he put up around his heart with that sweet voice.

You shook a bottle of gin to get his attention and he nodded. Logan wasn't a fan of gin, but he didn't expect you to have any hard liquors. He watched you pull out two blue glasses from the kitchen cabinet, and of course they had to be funky, with white flowers on them.

"Where'd you get these?" He asked, swirling the drink in his hand.

"I made them. Kind of." You said. "Bought them from a charity store and painted the flowers. Do you want some tonic water?"

"Fuck no." Logan choked on his gin when you asked him that question. Simply being in a place so... colourful was enough. He didn't need a girly drink.

"I'm Y/N, by the way."

"I'm-"

"The Wolverine!" You cut him off a little too eager.

"-Logan. Call me Logan." He cringed when the beverage tickled his taste buds. It wasn't bitter enough for him.

"Logan. Thanks for tonight. Is there any way I can repay you?"

The question was riddled with innocence, but he couldn't stop the degenerate thoughts that popped in his mind when you asked him that. You were just so pure that he wanted to both protect you and ruin you.

"Don't mention it. I couldn't just walk past without doing anything." Logan lied, because, really, he wasn't just walking by, was he? No, it was downright stalking.

"I could bake something for you." You offered and he shook his head.

"I don't like sweets, kid."

"What?" You were baffled. "Everybody likes something sweet."

"Not me." He shrugged. "All I like is tiramisu and only if those biscuits are doused in coffee."

"Ladyfingers." You corrected him with a chuckle. "They're called ladyfingers."

"Bullshit."

"I'm serious! Here!" You rushed to your pantry and pulled out a whole box of them, showing Logan the name.

"That's just stupid." He shook his head. "Who calls them ladyfingers?"

"Uh, everyone?" You laughed at his surprise, and the thoughts of your bad evening slowly dissipated, like a bad dream.

Logan truly was clueless about baking, but spent hours listening to you talk about types of sugar, extracts and their uses, and the difference between baking soda and baking powder in cooking. You rambled on and on and not once did he get bored. He could listen to you talk for hours with your voice soothing. Logan thought about it, and he genuinely never met someone like you before. The women in his life were all so different, but you took the cake. You were special in ways he couldn't understand. And he was just so drawn to you.

"I'm sorry, I haven't stopped talking once!" You apologised, realising how safe you felt with him there. You would never let a stranger inside your house, let alone talk about baking while having gin. But Logan wasn't a stranger. Not after he saved you.

"'s alright. It's not every day I learn about baking." He chuckled, finishing his drink. "Listen, I should get going."

"Right." You sighed, eyes darting at the floor. "No, of course. I've kept you too long."

Logan got up and you walked with him to the hallway. He was slow to put his leather jacket on, as if he was waiting for you to say something, anything, but when you didn't, he unlocked the door and opened it.

"Hey, Logan?" You tugged at his sleeve, whispering so you wouldn't wake your neighbours. "Are you sure I can't bake you something? Not now, I mean. I really want you to try something besides tiramisu. And that way I can repay you."

"Hell, why not?" He shrugged.

"Great!" You beamed at him like a child on Christmas day. "Stop by my bakery tomorrow at twelve. It's on Granville Street."

"I thought you didn't work on Sundays."

"Oh, how'd you know?" You quirked a brow at him.

Caught red-handed.

"Educated guess."

"Fair enough." His answer satisfied you. "Be there or be square!"

Sleep was for the weak. All night, Logan tossed and turned and abused his poor pillow with with punches. The mere thought of seeing you, no, interacting with you, had him wriggle like a worm on the mattress. It didn't help that Wade instantly noticed something was up.

"Oh, my, did you shower, peanut?"

"Not today, Satan." Logan poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Mmm, and what do I smell?" Wade sniffed the air. "Wait, is that my perfume?"

"Forgot to pack mine when I swapped universes." The Wolverine barked back.

"Hah!" Blind Al chimed in from the living room. "I think tall, dark and handsome here has a date!"

Logan rolled his eyes while Wade pouted, plopping on the sofa next to Al.

"You never called me that."

"That's cause you’re a degenerate." The woman snorted.

"Takes one to know one, doesn't it- ow! Stop hitting me with your cane, I know where you hide your nose candy!" Wade fought back.

"Touch it and I'll bust a cap in your ass!" Al scoffed.

"And I'll regenerate."

Logan used the opportunity to slip into the hallway, but his roommate was quicker, and blocked the door.

"You're not going anywhere until we have the talk."

"The talk?" The Wolverine snorted.

"Ah, they grow up so fast." Wade told Al. "Now, son, when a man and a woman love each other-"

"I'll give you three seconds to fuck off."

"Oh, but I need to know everything! Who is he?"

"She." Logan rolled his eyes.

"Oh my god, is this you coming out to us? Al, he's straight! I promise we love you anyway." Wade went for a hug and all Logan could do was accept it. He learned to live with Wade, even though he dislocated his jaw a few times after he moved in.

"Alright, that's enough."

"Nooo, we're just getting started. Name? Age? Occupation? We could do a double date with Vanessa-"

"Absolutely fucking not." Logan pushed Wade off of him.

"Okay, okay. Just make sure you wrap your willy, and if you need any advice, daddy's here." Wade opened the door for his roommate.

"Actually." Logan lingered in the hallway. "What kind of flowers do girls like?"

The blinds to the bakery were closed but you were inside, pastries in the oven and dessert in the fridge. You couldn't help yourself and prepared something savoury as well, in case he didn't like the lemon cake. A knock on the door startled you, and you rushed to check who it was.

Logan stood there, a bouquet of peonies in his hand. You welcomed him in with a smile, but he could tell it was different than the one you flashed your customers. It seemed more genuine. And it felt like a date.

"These are for you." Logan handed you the flowers, taking in the scent of pork pies. "I thought you were gonna bake something sweet." He flared his nostrils.

"I did, I just thought I should have a plan B in case you didn't like my cake." You placed the bouquet in a vase on one of your tables. "How did you know I liked peonies?"

Logan couldn't believe Wade was right about those damn flowers. And there he was, thinking roses would be better. Maybe the Merc with a Mouth wasn't so bad after all.

"I had a hunch." He shrugged. 

"Well, Logan, I love them! Now sit, sit!" You ushered him to his seat. "I hope you're hungry, because there's a lot for you to try."

"A lot? I thought you'll make me a cupcake or somethin', bub."

"A cupcake?? Don't be silly." Just as you said that, the oven made a loud ding sound, and you turned on your heels, heading in the back.

Logan waited patiently, observing every little detail from the front of your bakery, from the spotless display shelves to the neatly organised paper bags, to the fairy lights around the window. It was obvious to him that you had put your mind, body and soul into this bakery, and his expectations were quite high after all the fuss you made. But he decided to be nice not matter how the food tasted. He couldn't bear seeing you upset if he didn't like what you made.

You reappeared with a tray in your hand, and on it two plates, one with a small pork pie, one with a croissant, and a cup of coffee. Hell, even the cutlery was cute, with swirls engraved on the handles of the fork, knife and teaspoon.

"I decided to leave the cake for last." You said, placing the tray in front of him. "This is a simple pork pie, start with that." You urged him. "Careful, it's hot."

The Wolverine struggled with the cutlery, too small for his large hands, and the brief thought of slashing the pie with his claws crossed his mind, but he decided to be civil. You watched him butcher the food, eager to see his reaction, but he was taking his time.

"I'll let it cool off a bit."

"Ooh, that's probably a good idea." You nodded.

"Aren't you having some?" Logan asked.

"Noo, no. I like to bake for others, not for myself."

"So what do you eat, then?" He sipped on the coffee.

"Instant noodles usually. I'm too tired to cook when I get home. I do occasionally have leftovers, but whatever isn't sold I take it to the local shelter." You explained.

Christ, you couldn't be any kinder. Logan was stunned by your beauty and your soul, which was why he decided that after today, he will stop any interaction with you. He couldn't ruin you, not with his lifestyle, not with the danger that followed him everywhere.

The only problem was that the conversation flowed naturally, and he felt safe with you, just as you did with him. Like you were the missing piece to his puzzle. Logan pushed away those thoughts and decided to try the food. He took a large mouthful of the pie, chewed and swallowed, and you waited expectantly.

"Shit."

"What? Is it bad?" You jumped from your seat.

"Fuck, this is the best pork pie I've ever had." Logan wiped his mouth with a tissue you provided. "I'm serious, kid. Did you put drugs in it?"

You laughed, shaking your head as he finished the rest of the pie. He truly seemed to enjoy it, and you felt so satisfied. But the real test came after.

"Pistachio croissant." You said. "I thought about making almond ones, but I figured pistachio wasn't that sweet."

"Right, let's see." Logan took a healthy bite out of the pastry, and lo and behold, he closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. If heaven had a taste, it would be that damned croissant.

"Is it good?"

"Good? Jesus, this is the best one yet." He finished the rest of it, the pistachio cream tickling his taste buds in all the right ways. "Who taught you to bake like this?"

"My grandma. She was the best cook I knew." You smiled.

Logan noticed your use of past tense, and he didn't want to bring up any bad memories. He wasn't the nosy type, but something possessed him to ask you about your life, your family, your favourite colours. He needed to know more about you, and you answered all his questions, opening up to him like a flower in bloom. But when it came to him talking about himself, Logan was reluctant.

Talking to Wade was easier, because Wade didn't take anything seriously, nor did he ask personal questions. Well, he did, but in his own stupid way that provided Logan some distraction, as well as a reason to punch him. But with you it was different. He felt like he owed you serious answers that he wasn't yet ready to tell a stranger who made a mean pistachio croissant.

"The cake!" You spun on the chair, changing the subject when you saw Logan dodging your questions like bullets.

Although he didn't say it, he was grateful that you didn't put any pressure on him to talk. He wasn't a talker. That was definitely Wade. You came back with the whole cake, and it looked so good that Logan didn't want you to cut it. Perfectly round, a layer of cream in the middle and white frosting on top. You even went so far as to decorate it with all kinds of yellow flower petals and what seemed to be mint leaves.

"Alright, hit me. What's this one called?"

"I call it the Mojito Cake. The sponge cake has lemon zest, the cream is made of lime, mint and rum syrup, and the frosting is buttercream with a dash of actual rum." You explained.

"Shit, I can't tell if that sounds disgusting or incredible."

"Only one way to find out." You cut him a thick slice, and Logan wasted no time trying it.

"I think you found yourself a new customer."

"You're too nice."

"I'm anything but nice, kid." He took three more spoonfuls. "But I ain't a liar. This is delicious." Logan spoke with his mouth full and it made you chuckle.

"Oh, there's a bit of frosting on your face."

"Hm?" He used the tissue to wipe his chin. "Did I get it?"

"No, it's still- here, I'll get it." You leaned forward and delicately ghosted your thumb over the corner of his mouth, eyes locked with his.

Without thinking about it, you dragged your tongue over the frosting, and Logan couldn't look away from you even if he wanted to. A gesture so innocent, but it destroyed any form of restraint. He pressed his lips onto yours, tasting the rum and the cream, but before you could kiss him back, he pulled away.

"Sorry. Sorry, I shouldn't have-"

You gave him no time to finish his sentence when you placed your hands on his shoulders and kissed him with fire on your tongue. God, he hated being touched, but when you did it, he melted in your hands. Lust battled reason and prevailed, and you found yourself straddling Logan's lap, arms around his neck and chest pressed against his.

His large hands found their way under your dress, fingers digging in the plush of your thighs until a moan escaped past your lips. Logan could've sworn you were pure in all ways — a virgin — so, naturally, he was surprised to see you eager to jump his adamantium bones.

With the last shred of reason left in you, you glanced at the door and window to make sure they were covered, and pushed Logan's jacket off his shoulders, peppering his neck with soft kisses. He wasn't the gentle type, no matter how hard he tried, and he didn't need to be when he felt your hips grind in his lap. It was more than obvious that you wanted him then and there.

Logan lifted you up as if you weighed nothing and slammed you down the empty table. His roughness sent a chill down your spine, because you really wanted him to manhandle you from the moment he stepped foot in your bakery. He kissed you again, pressing his whole against yours until your back hit the table. You felt like a cornered animal with nowhere to go, and the thrill of it turned you on.

"Are you sure you want this?" Logan asked despite you unbuckling his belt.

"I don't want this, I want you. I need you to fuck me so hard I can't walk." You unzipped his jeans, and although he was taken aback by your sudden use of filthy words, he couldn't deny he enjoyed seeing that side of you.

"Greedy little girl." Logan's hand slithered between your legs, fingers rubbing circles over your clothed clit. "Shit, you're soakin' wet. Can feel it through your fuckin' panties already." He flared his nostrils, taking in the scent of your arousal.

With his jeans loose around his waist, you palmed his cock through his boxers, and it didn't shock you for a second that he was rock hard. What did shock you, however, was the size of it. It was probably the biggest you've ever taken, and you didn't want any other man anymore.

You tugged at the waistband of his boxers, making it clear that you didn't want to waste any more time. Not that you didn't want to suck his dick or explore every inch of his body and worship it the way a man like him deserved it, but you were impatient.

Logan got the hint when you whined and scoffed, and he tore the pink panties off of you, tossing them on the floor. At least he had the decency not to put them on the table, which you were going to disinfect anyway. He pushed his boxers down, and you propped yourself on your elbows to look at him, and it was a sight for sore eyes indeed. He had perfectly sculpted abs, you could see them under the half-lifted t-shirt, but it was his cock that made your mouth water.

"Like what you see?" Logan was smug, confident in his good looks.

"I need to permanently imprint this image on my retina." You told him, and he couldn't help the chuckle.

"Likewise. Now spread 'em."

"Yessir!" You very quickly obeyed, parting your legs for him, and Logan couldn't deny that he enjoyed being in control.

He wasn't one to take orders, nor give them, but watching you comply scratched an itch he couldn't get rid of. Logan pressed the tip of his cock against your slick folds, earning another whine from you. You bucked your hips, craving more, and he scoffed.

"That desperate, hm?"

"You have no idea." You dug your manicured fingernails into his shoulders, bracing for temporary pain, because you knew damn well it would hurt.

"I don't know, I didn't hear you say please." Logan frowned, and you understood what game he was playing. A game you yearned to be part of.

"Oh, please, please, please fuck me, Logan! I'll be so good for you! I'll do anything you want." You clung to his shoulders, bringing yourself closer to him. "I'll even take it in any hole you want." You whispered, dragging your tongue over his lips.

"Shit." Logan was weak in the knees from your words, and the worst part was that he believed everything you said. But there was a time and place for everything.

You were the perfect mix of sweet and spicy, and you begged so nicely that the Wolverine just couldn't say no. You felt the leaking tip of his cock push past your folds and you audibly gasped at the size of it, drawing blood from his skin with your fingernails.

"It won't fit-" You whined with lust in your voice.

"I'll make it fit." Logan promised, painstakingly slowly thrusting into you.

He gave you time to adjust to his girth, constantly checking if you were alright, if you wanted him to carry on or stop, and while you loved that he was so caring, you needed him hurry up and fuck you.

To assure him that you would survive his monstrous cock, you planted a soft kiss on his nose, and there it was again, the change in your personality, from sultry to innocent. It was as though you embodied everything he ever wanted, and his desire to never contact you again went down the drain. How could Logan ever leave someone like you?

"I'm ready." You nodded, and he pressed his forehead onto yours, slowly rolling his hips.

You weren't ready, because it hurt like a bitch when he stretched out your velvety walls. But the pain was soon replaced by pleasure, and Logan picked up the pace when your whimpers turned to moans, and the slight frown on your face disappeared.

"So tight." He hummed, forehead resting against yours.

Were you tight, or was he just so incredibly big? Either way, you were a panting mess already, clinging to him for dear life, and Logan forgot his worries, even if it was just for that one moment. You were too good to be true, with your parted lips and glossy eyes — a beautiful sight for his sore eyes.

"Fuck, I- fuck!" You wrapped your legs around his waist, the table screeching under you. Not a single coherent sentence could come out of your mouth. "Logan, shit, I-"

"What's the matter? Need something?" He cooed, fingers bruising into your hips. "Use your big girl words."

"Need it ha-harder!" You cried out but he slowed down, confusion written all over your face.

"Where are your manners?"

"Please, daddy, please give it to me harder!"

The term of endearment had Logan quirk a brow at you, but he wasn't surprised in the slightest that you had a daddy kink. And he basked in being called that.

"Are you sure you can take it?"

"Yes!" There was no hesitation in your response. "Fuck, yes!"

Logan growled when he felt your pussy clench around his cock, and he delivered, thrusting deeper, harder and faster into you, until the sound of skin on skin echoed in the bakery, and your breathing became heavier.

"Fuuuuck, I can feel it in my gut!" You threw your head back when the tip of his cock brushed against your cervix.

"Filthy. Little. Slut." Each word came with a thrust and a groan, and he filled you up so good, you became addicted to him.

Your toes curled up, and your legs began to twitch when you felt your orgasm build up. Each push and pull made your vision blurry, and Logan's grip on you tightened as his hips stuttered. He was feral, and he was close, you could feel it in your bones.

"Fuck, Logan, do- oh- don't stop!" Words spilled from your mouth incoherently, and after a few more thrusts, pure bliss rushed through your body.

"That's it, let go." Logan buried his face in the crook of your neck, slamming hard into you until all you could do was chant his name like a prayer.

You felt him fill you up, pussy hot and sticky and sore, and he slowly pulled out, eyes darting at the tissues on the table. He grabbed them, gently cleaning you up, and you couldn’t stop the grin on your face. There was just something about a man like him be so gentle. And you were absolutely delighted to have him take care of you.

"You know," Logan said licking his lips, "I'm beginning to think you didn't want me to just taste your pastries."

"True." You told him smugly. "But you liked them."

"I like you more." He blurted out without thinking.

You felt your cheeks burn at his sudden honesty, and after sliding up your underwear and fixing your dress, you planted a soft kiss on his cheek.

"I like you too, honey badger."

"Don't ever call me that again." Logan chuckled.

"Not happening. Now, could you pleaaaase help me clean up this place? The last thing I need is a surprise hygiene inspection tomorrow."

He couldn't even imagine what the inspectors would do if they found out you had sex in a bakery, and with a nod, Logan zipped up his jeans and began disinfecting the tables and chairs while you swept the floor.

In less than half an hour you were done, and the shop was squeaky clean. You were satisfied with the end result, and told Logan that you wanted him to have the rest of the cake, pies and croissants. He thought Wade and Al could eat something, and decided to accept your offer.

"Can I come with you? There's quite a few boxes of food." You told him, a sheepish grin on your lips.

"Is that your way of finding out where I live?"

"Maybe. I'll go home if you don't want me with you."

"No, you're good." Logan assured you. "Besides, I'm sure my roommate's gonna devour everything. He'll probably lock you up in our apartment and force you to bake for him."

"I don't know if that's a threat or a promise." You laughed.

"Both. It's both."

You walked with Logan down the street, boxes in your arms, and you were surprised to see him open up to you more. He answered almost every question you had, and you felt him more relaxed. And he was. Logan forgot how much he needed that kind of connection with someone. You were so easy to talk to, you didn't judge him, and most importantly, you listened.

He guided you up the stairs to his apartment and knocked on the door, because he couldn't reach his keys with so many boxes in his arms. You baked for a damn army.

Wade opened the door, and you were taken aback by his appearance, but it didn't scare you. Instead, you introduced yourself as Logan's personal baker, earning a chuckle from him.

"Come on in, Martha Stewart." Wade opened the door enough for you to walk through it with the boxes and not drop them.

"Wade." Logan came back from the kitchen with a croissant. "Eat. Seriously, eat."

You watched Wade wolf down the pastry without hesitation and his eyes lit up. He chewed and swallowed, then moaned, eyes rolling back. The look of disgust on Logan's face was priceless.

"Holy fucking shit, Y/N, what the fuck did you put in this?" Wade grabbed your shoulders, giving them a good shake. "It's so flaky and creamy and buttery, like a bunch of unicorns came in my mouth."

"I'm glad you like it." You giggled. "Try the cake."

"There's cake?!" He ran to the kitchen, leaving you and Logan in the hallway before coming back, a slice of half-eaten cake in his hand. "I am officially impressed. Can you make Rocky Road?"

"Yes."

"Dulce de leche?"

"Yep."

"Baklava?"

"Uh-huh."

"Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte?"

"Yes, Wade!" You rolled your eyes, then turned to Logan. "Sugar rush?"

"Oh, you have no idea. And this is him on a good day."

"Listen, sweet cheeks, if old man fuckface here won’t marry you, I will. Just don’t tell Vanessa." Wade whispered.

"Don’t even think about it, you degenerate limp dick."

"Ugh, fine. And here I was hoping all four of us could be a happy dysfunctional family. Five if you count Al. Six with Colossus. Wait, actually, eight with-"

"Wade, have you tried the pork pies?" You asked, effectively shutting him up.

Yeah, Logan could definitely get used to being around you from now on to sweeten up his life.

[hymns-across-the-stars]

As he speaks, Mirage gives him another look-over. He does seem like the sort to care about getting into a good college; student council's a decent extracurricular to pad the résumé, though she'd honestly not be surprised if he's a future legacy student or a nepotism baby. But the idea of someone like that being apparently quite happy (to the point of radiating joy, even) doing the tedious task of meal-prep makes her initially noncommittal noise warp into another laugh.

It's just a silly image. That's all. Still, her voice is a little warmer when she speaks up again.

"Meal-prep, school, council... sounds like a whole load of monotony to me. Sure, maybe that's exactly what you find meditative—but it's still good to spend some time outside of that penitentiary anyway. Might as well get a meal out of the trip, then, eh?"

That said, standing here at café now, Mirage finds herself wondering if perhaps the technical meal is worth the secondhand embarrassment of watching Gabriel lightly but accidentally scare the barista while trying to order. She gets her drink by the time he thanks the poor baffled soul, two of her fingers touching the liquid as she cocks her head at him.

"Well, I guess you'll be recognized the next time they see you. Maybe they'd even give you an extra croissant if you scare them a little more."

It's all just teasing, of course, exploring his reactions to the jabs; still, there's some truth to it. Mirage hadn't really clocked him as particularly frightening, but the morning's events should be more than enough to indicate that he can be exactly that.

He doesn't seem the type to abuse this fact for more croissants, though.

Anyway, once he gets his boba, it's a matter of ushering him to the nearest table and sinking into her own seat before he might decide to pull the chair closer to him out for her as a gentlemanly gesture. Her drink's still pleasantly warm and the world is starting to feel a little sharper around the edges from the caffeine. But for all her contentedness, she watches Gabriel with a vague sense of curiosity. Mostly for how he plans to eat with the mask, she'd have to admit, but there's a degree of wondering if he'd enjoy his order, too.

✞ A beautiful day. Yes, one hard to ignore. As of late, he's found himself resisting a poor habit of simply staring at others in the distance, a habit of just watching life go by. He notes those people, students and not, the sound of birds, the clear blue sky, as if just now noticing it, even mid conversation. But he could never be so rude as to not pay attention. " It's true. I have gone very few places as of yet. " He turns to them as they question him. " I am with the student council, and we have agreed that lunches are most efficiently spent together at the designated board room, to further discussion. And so-- either homemade or takeout is advised. However, I have recently found the ritual of making one's meal for the next day quite meditative! " He beams about this clearly recent and practice-earned skill.

To be inside the cafe they chose was precisely as charming as he anticipated. It was clearly designed to be warm, in a very specific way that almost seemed to mirror the strong dark scent of a certain breed of bean, with dimmed lights in stark contrast to the brightly sunny outdoors. He follows the machine closely, and with a mixture of his existing experience and what he sees in others, he looks to the signs above as they wait. But he deems attempting to make sense of the foreign terms silly. There is a person at the counter, he will simply speak with them.

Mirage's order, however... alarms him a little. Can a machine be overcaffeinated? She pumps blood, like a heart, so perhaps so, but does that translate to bad nerves, poor sleep? This concern must be paused as he needs to order next.

" Greetings! I am new to your cafe, what matter of tea would you most suggest? " He says with perfect confidence, pleasant and warm, as his form towers over the smaller barista who pauses a bit too long. But, he gets a recommendation-- a new lavender boba milk tea. Not knowing what that is, he gladly accepts, adding an almond croissant-- of which he appeared to be completely familiar with-- then nods a bow, gives a thank you slightly too sincere, and proceeds to reapproach the machine with his new pastry in hand.

[rainybubbles]

141 coming back to you after a eight months mission

Plus size reader :) !

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC)

G H O S T

-Eight long months, every fiber of his being yearned for a hot shower, his eyes struggled to stay open.

- Yet, it wasn't his shabby apartment that the taxi drove to.

-Simon, buried beneath the Ghost's mask, still held a glimmer of humanity within him, a breath hidden beneath Ghost's blood, death, and violence.

-But on that evening, what he ardently desired was them: their gentleness, their scent, their warmth.

-Like a wild animal slowly tamed by food, he returned to them whenever possible.

-Under the pouring rain, he advanced, hastily thanking the driver, the heavy bags weighing on his shoulders.

-He stepped into the still slumbering pastry shop, and the bell rang.

-And there they appeared.

- Covered in flour, with a pastry cap and apron, they were surprised to find someone there at five in the morning.

-"Simon," they murmured.

-The sound of his name was so sweet, so soothing.

- But he wanted more.

-He wanted them to whisper his name over and over again, filled with desire, until they could only utter it, clouded with pleasure.

-His bags fell to the ground, and his arms enveloped them in an instinctive movement.

- Their hair smelled of sugar and butter, the flour staining their black sweater. Simon wanted more.

-"Y/n"

-" I missed you," they whispered.

-He couldn't bring himself to respond, to admit this longing, but they could sense it.

-His arms didn't let them go.

-"Scone?" they asked.

-"No. "

-"Muffin?"

- "No."

-" Croissant?"

- "You," he finally said.

A silence stretched between them.

-"I have to finish my batch, I open in an hour. Do you think you can wait?"

-No, he couldn't. But reason prevailed, and he nodded.

-"I'll help you," he murmured.

-"You barely know how to fold a dough."

-"I can follow orders."

-"Sorry, soldier."

-Their laughter echoed, and a sense of relief washed over him.

- He wanted to hear that sound again and again.

- In silence, they worked. Simon followed every move, ignoring the pain, stretching each muscle. He was ready for anything.

-When the last batch was ready and the saleswoman arrived, Simon breathed a sigh of relief.

-Y/n gave their final instructions and left.

-Alone on the street, they walked together.

-Like a starving beast, Simon jumped at every crumb of affection, grabbing their hand, his fingers brushing theirs through gloves.

-"We need to talk, don't we?" they finally admitted.

-"Yes," he replied.

- "About what happened before your deployment…"

-The kiss. A hurried kiss, without thought.

- Lips so soft, erasing the bad news of his deployment and eight long months of silence.

-"I… "

-'Don't say you regret it," he finally said.

-"No, I don't. I mean it. But I don't want it to destroy us."

-"It won't."

-"I know you avoid people, Simon. Attachment."

-"Yes."

-But not them, he thought

- Since the moment his feet led him to that pastry shop. Simon knew he was doomed.

- A stupid cake for Soap's nephew, and he found himself charmed by a baker making incredible scones.

-Simon had become a regular there, a man of habit enjoying the good things, he told himself.

- It was close, he said.

-Close to his shabby apartment, to his gym.

-Just a daily stop for coffee and scones, he reasoned.

- But every morning, his eager eyes searched for their silhouette.

-Their rolls, their belly, their thighs, that smile.

- Every crumb he could get, he took.

-They eventually noticed him.

-A mountain of muscles, hidden by a mask, softened by scones, it wasn't the most discreet.

-They greeted him.

-Always the first customer at dawn.

-In reality, Simon came so early out of military habit but also to avoid the saleswoman.

-Simon desired the baker, not the small, slim saleswoman.

-Slowly, they spoke to him, and everything fell into place.

- They had become his anchor, an anchor in reality.

- A tough mission, and he came to them silently, without needing to place an order, without having to face the crowd, slipping to the back and watching them work.

-No questions, just comfort.

-The smell of sugar, flour, and eggs permeated his clothes in the most exquisite way.

-And now he dreamed of a life where this scent would be constant.

-"I don't want us to drift apart," they said.

-"We won't," he assured them.

-"So, what do we do, Simon?"

-"Kiss me."

-It was a prayer, a barely audible order, a cry for help.

-Slowly his mask fell.

- Their eyes met, hesitant but filled with desire.

-And they kissed him.

- In that dark street, under the pouring rain.

-"Again," he murmured.

-"We have to go back," they said.

- "I don't care about going back," he replied.

- "Simon, you don't want to spend your leave sick."

-"If I stay with you, I do."

-"Idiot."

- "For you."

-Their laughter burst out, and Simon kissed them again to capture it.

-Slowly, they finally arrived at their place.

-Their dog welcomed them, barking happily at Simon. And after eight long months, Simon could finally breathe.

-"I'm home," he murmured.

- "We were waiting for you," they replied.

-Nothing surpassed this feeling, he thought as he kissed them again.

-Simon was a man, and like any man, he had finally found his long-desired home in their arms.

__________

P R I C E

-In an emotionally charged atmosphere, Price let the water flow slowly, carrying away the remnants of blood under his nails.

-After eight long months, he felt like a ship drifting without a course, without a real destination.

-At least that's what he claimed to anyone who would listen, but the ring hanging under his uniform whispered different truths to him.

-Staring at his own reflection, Price read the inscription inside the ring, a name he hadn't uttered in years.

- Like enchanted by a spell whose charm he feared, he hesitated to whisper it again.

-Yet, his heart demanded it.

-He knew it was the longing that drove him.

-Without those eight months, he wouldn't be here, longing desperately to have them back in his arms.

-(It was false; since the divorce was signed, he dreamt of them.)

-Since the day their marriage ended, he had wanted to throw himself at their feet and beg them to come back.

- He desired their warmth, their ridiculous work stories, their cooking, their scent, their fingers, their kisses.

-They were the oasis in the desert of his life, and through negligence, he had let them evaporate.

- It all dated back to before his promotion to captain.

- Back then, he was just a young lieutenant full of ambition, willing to sacrifice anything to obtain that coveted title.

-But the long hours at the office had gradually poisoned his time with them, an absence they had signaled to him, one he had ignored, one he had maintained until everything exploded like a grenade.

-Now, he stood there, on the minefield of his emotional life with a ring they had probably forgotten, longing to hear them say yes once again.

-As he dried himself off, Price settled into his office.

-He told himself it was just simple nostalgia, but the bitter taste of tobacco wasn't enough to distract him, remembering how much they hated that smell. He extinguished his cigar.

-To take his mind off things, he decided to go to the nearest bookstore. A good book would be welcome, he thought.

-"John?"

-That voice, which had haunted him for three years and eight long months of divorce.

-"Y/N."

-It had been so long.

-Too long, he thought, seeing them so different.

- He admired their new haircut, their new clothes. What a lucky man he had been.

-"Yes. Still teaching?"

-"Yes. And you, did you manage to become a captain?"

-"Yes."

-The silence stretched, their eyes avoiding his.

-"But it wasn't worth it," he admitted.

-"Too much work?"

-"Not enough of you"

-"John," they interrupted.

-"I'm not trying to get us back together, far from it. I know it won't happen, but I wanted to be honest with you. I think this divorce has been the biggest failure of my life, and you deserved better than me."

-Hesitantly, they opened their mouth, a mouth he had kissed so many times, one that had shared all their troubles, all their doubts.

-"Thank you, John. But I'm also to blame. I should have told you everything that was going on in my head, everything that wasn't right."

-"You couldn't, when all I listened to were orders."

-"Maybe…"

-"Good person, wrong time, it seems."

-"Nothing prevents us from correcting the timing, right?"

-John raised an eyebrow.

-"It doesn't mean we have to start all over, but… you've been a pillar in my life, John. I missed you. Whether as friends or more, it doesn't matter."

-"Thank you, love," John murmured.

-They approached him, and during this long absence, John could finally feel human warmth again.

-To just be John again, not Captain Price.

-Their hands wrapped around each other.

-They both knew it wouldn't be purely platonic, but like a suspended promise, for now, they would stick to it, hoping that one day the rings would find their respective places again.

-Theirs from their drawer to their finger, and his from his neck to his hand.

-"I missed you."

-"You too. Tell me what I've missed."

-And John could only smile.

-If these eight months of hell, these three years of desert led him back to them, then it was worth it, he decided.

- So when he packed for his next return, the soldiers watched him curiously because for once the captain had a home where he really wanted to be.

_________

S O A P

-Immersed in an ocean of turmoil, Soap returned after eight months of absence, longing to celebrate his return with his family.

-His thoughts, drowned in alcohol and his mother's reprimands, were rocked by the cheery laughter of his nephews and nieces.

-Between the urge to scream and the desire to simply savor their presence, he oscillated.

-When the festivities finally came to an end, he could finally breathe.

-Eight months.

- Alone in his flat, memories flooded in, evoking strategies, bombs, deafening tumult, and lingering smells.

-Everything was an attempt at distraction; the television, the rain, a run, a cup of tea, messages on his mobile.

-He longed for something, even if he didn't know exactly what.

-But it was missing, creeping under his skin little by little, scratching at the door of his mind.

-"Again, really?'

-His eyes fell on his neighbour.

-The same one who had endured his screams at three in the morning, his hurried departures on missions, his heavy suitcases dragged at seven in the morning.

- And now, at four o'clock, they stood before him, a mischievous gleam in their eyes, the result of an incident involving dumbbells in his hands.

-"Sorry.", he apologized.

-"I'm starting to think you're doing it on purpose."

-"On purpose…? "He raised an eyebrow.

-"So that we see each other. You know, like in those cliché romances where the noisy neighbour ends up seducin' the complainin' neighbour."

-Incredulous, he couldn't help but laugh.

-"Ye wouldn't need that."

-A teasing smile stretched across his neighbour's lips.

-"I know. But you seem to need it. Not an adventure, but a distraction."

-They referred to the dumbbells.

-"Aye."

-"I make cookies." they said.

-"At 4 a.m.?"

-"I know how to keep myself busy in silence."

-"…"

-"Interested?" they asked.

-The latent feeling under Soap's skin resurfaced.

-He nodded and followed them. And then he realized.

-The warm atmosphere, the decor, the unstacked dishes, the soft carpets.

-That's what he had missed, a heaven of peace.

-"They won't be the best cookies in the world, but they'll do."

-"Ah'm good at it." he said.

-"Pastry chef?"

-"Military."

-"Hm, that explains a lot. "They gave him a complicit look.

-"Like what?" Soap asked.

-"This horrible haircut."

Laughter erupted in the kitchen.

-"Ma haircut is incredible."

-"For a 6-year-old."

-"Ah look handsome with it."

-"Even without it."they said.

-"Good at flirtin'?"he asked.

-"With the right person, yes."

-Soap smiled.

-"Ye would be bonnie with a mohawk."

-"No thanks. But, well, I understand the muscles and the irregular movements now."

-"Aye, Ah don't choose my hours."

-Too bad, you'd think criminals can't be punctual, huh? "they joked.

-He smiled.

-"Exactly."

-Hands in the dough, Soap couldn't help but let his gaze drift over his neighbour's curves.

-He admitted that sometimes his door slammed a little louder in the hope of catching a glimpse of them, like a good luck charm before a mission.

-Curves he longed to explore, letting the eight long months fade from his memory to be replaced by love for them.

-"Ah should hae made more noise if it means havin' cookies."

-His neighbour smiled.

-"Maybe. I was worried about this silence, you know."

Soap felt touched by their concern.

-"Ah'm sorry."

-"Don't apologize, you didn't decide on that. It's just… maybe I could give you my number? If you ever have plants or stuff like that, I'll take care of them."

-"Okay." he acquiesced.

-He took the paper feverishly, keeping it as a precious treasure, and continued cooking.

-At the end of that day, returning home, Soap could finally close his eyes.

-The creeping feeling had come to an end.

-That longing, that emptiness, it was them, the sound of a life together.

-He brushed the paper, a smile on his lips.

-Getting up, he decided to drop a dumbbell loudly.

- A noise at his door rang out, and he smiled. Nothing was worth his neighbour.

-So slowly he opened the door, and dinner followed to apologize.

-Then another to repay.

-And slowly, they erased from his mind the eight long months that had haunted him.

G A Z

-After eight long months of absence, Gaz finally found a moment of respite in his humble accommodation on the base.

-The deafening noises of the base's incessant activity, the hurried faces, the soldiers' rushed departures, everything seemed to dissolve into a chaos filling his ears.

-Everything seemed to fade away as soon as he could cross the threshold of his room.

-Here, in this haven of tranquility, he could finally silence the external turmoil.

-His pulse slightly quickened as he reached for his phone, his fingers instinctively finding his favorite contact: them.

- He felt this visceral need to reassure them, to feel their presence through the voice that was so dear to him.

-In this suspended moment, he longed to hear nothing but their soothing breath, to lose himself in their tender words.

-His ears buzzed, every beep deafening his eardrums and…

-"Hello?"

-"Y/N," he murmured, relieved and tender.

-The echo of their voice provided him with a welcome comfort, a balm for his weary soul.

-"Kyle. Back among us?"

-"Yes, I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you."

-"No, I'm on break. I have a shift tonight."

-A silence stretched.

-"Is everything alright?"

-Kyle hesitated before speaking.

-Is everything alright? The blood, the bruises, the cries, the deaths… Everything seemed to still be on his skin, vivid in his mind.

-"I don't know," he admitted.

-"You didn't break an arm, did you?"

-Kyle smiled at the memory.

-After a rough mission he had rushed to his flat ignoring the pain in his arm and the medics.

-Yet he ended up to E.R days later with a blue arm and broken bone.

-Y/n was one of the nurse who was in charge of him and his cast, they kept contact.

-"No, I don't know how I managed to cope without hearing from you."

-"Charming," they laughed at his attempt at flirting.

-"Maybe."

-"More seriously?"

-"Tired," he admitted.

-"I would tell you to sleep, but I imagine you don't want to."

-"I can't."

-Not when he knew the nightmares awaiting him.

-"…I finish at 1am, if ever. I'm not implying anything, I know your base is super far, but I know that company can help."

-"Hmm, I don't know, will there be food?"

-"My company isn't enough for you, Kyle?" they joked.

-"I fear not."

-"Damn," they exclaimed, laughing.

-Ah, there it was.

-A tender smile stretched across Gaz's lips.

- In this exchange, he found comfort, a precious connection.

-His body relaxed slightly.

-"I missed you," they confessed.

-"You too."

-"You know, I bought those awful biscuits you talked about so much, hoping you'd come eat them at my place."

-"I'll take it as a declaration at this rate."

-"Shut up, I know you'd never buy them because 'no time'."

-"I like speed."

-"Even in bed?"

-A mischievous smile formed on his lips.

-"That's for you to find out."

-"You always say that."

-"I mean it."

-"About?"

-"Us."

-"Kyle…"

-"I know, after eight months of absence, it might just be the longing speaking, but… the only thing I wanted was you. Coming back to you, holding you in my arms, making you laugh one last time. And… staying friends… it's worse."

-"Worse than eight months without me?" -"Yes."

-"You're horrible for doing this."

-"I know."

-"At a distance, over the phone. I can't… I can't guess anything."

-"I guess I'm a coward."

-"Shut up, I… I swear I'm going to hit you and then kiss you."

-"Kiss me?"

-"Of course, do you really think I answer all your calls at any time out of friendship?"

-"Y/N…"

-"Last time there was an eight-hour time difference."

-"You told me…"

-"That there were only two, yes, because… I didn't want you to worry. You're a stubborn idiot always thinking of others, so I wanted to be selfish for once that you are."

-"I am. I want you, Y/n."

-"Then come get me."

-Kyle smiled and hung up.

- In his car, stress, fear, adrenaline surged. But for once, the enemy wasn't to be fought.

-Once in front of the hospital, hours of driving later, he stood at the entrance and saw them come out.

-Their name spoken from their lips, and he embraced them.

-"Never again," they whispered.

-"I can't promise anything, but I'll try."

-"I swear I'll kick Price's ass if he does that again."

-"I'll help you."

-"Promise?"

-"Promise."

-And he kissed them.

-Suddenly the eight long months evaporated on Y/n's couch, his fingers sliding through their hair, and his lips on theirs.

-The silence returned and Kyle could finally breathe.

If you want more : my masterlist

[cupofsapphics]

The Coffee Shop

[ melissa schemmenti x reader ]

warning(s): none

summary: a new coffee shop opened near abbott and something, or rather someone, keeps a redhead coming back

a/n: feeding you guys one fic a year is so generous, right? right?? also forgive me you guys, it's been a while since i wrote... so mel might be a bit ooc

word count: 1.7k

Mondays were always a pain for the staff at Abbott. Work to catch up on, plan lessons, and more. Just like every other morning, Janine walked into the room with a bright smile. “Guys, did you hear about the new coffee shop that opened down the road?” 

Barbara gave her a glance and shook her head. “I’m satisfied with my regular coffee.”

Ava suddenly bursts through the door. “Girl, no wonder you always be lookin’ so miserable. That new place serves one hell of a coffee, y'all should try.” She grins as she puts countless spoons of sugar into her coffee.

Barbara and Melissa shared a skeptical look before getting up to go set up their classrooms for the incoming kids. Undeterred, Janine turned to Jacob “I’m thinking of checking it out tomorrow, do you wanna come?” 

“I’d be happy to, I’ve been planning to go over there anyway.” Jacob gushes. 

The next morning, the two pulled the door open to the shop and were taken aback by the sight before them. Compared to the frigid air outside, the cafe felt welcoming. The walls were plain white, but many paintings adorned them. Strings of warm lights hung from the ceiling, inviting passersby to sit and relax. You just opened the cafe a mere 15 minutes ago and the ring of your doorbell caught your attention as you were cleaning the counter.

“Hi! Welcome to my cafe, what can I get you?” You beamed as you leaned on the counter with both of your arms. Business has been slow ever since you started the shop, so it was nice to see people come in.

“Just a cappuccino, please,” the woman says excitedly and moves to sit down at one of the tables. You nodded and turned to her friend to find him staring at cookies, donuts, croissants, and muffins through the glass. You clear your throat and his attention redirects back to you as he orders quickly to join his friend at the table. You quickly get to work and start preparing.

You approach them, with the two drinks and snack in hand. Putting them on the table, you ask, “Are you guys from the school across from here? I don’t get a lot of customers, so it would make sense if you guys work nearby.” They take a sip as they listen to your inquiries and their eyes widen as they drink more. 

“Yeah, we’re from Abbott, the school just across from here. I’m sorry, but I just got to say, this coffee is absolutely amazing,” Janine rapidly finishes as she drinks more. You hear a muffle from her companion, which you could make out was along the lines of, “I know right.” You let out a light chuckle. The woman sticks her hand out and says, “By the way, my name’s Janine, and my friend over there is Jacob.” At the mention of his name, Jacob pauses from eating to give you a small wave. 

“Nice to meet you guys, I’m Y/N.”

Janine and Jacob talked to you for a few more minutes before they had to go back to prepare for their classes. They promised to come here as often as they could for their coffee. Over the course of a few weeks, you became good friends with both of them and often joined them for meetups outside of work.

--

You got a call from Janine about a week ago about having some drinks and snacks out for the staff at Abbott to enjoy. She asked if you could provide them and bring them over. “I’m sorry if this is kind of last minute,” she says nervously. “It’s okay, Janine. I’ll bring them over next Monday,” you replied reassuringly.

Monday came quickly and before you knew it, you found yourself in front of Abbott Elementary with armfuls of coffee and food. Scrambling to the counter, you ask the person in the front for a pass (Janine said you needed one) and made your way towards the staff room. There were already a good amount of teachers chatting amongst themselves. Janine made her way up to you as she took the boxes off your hands and set them on one of the tables. “Everyone, this is Y/N. She owns the coffee shop across from the school and was kind enough to bring us some coffee and food to get through the morning!” Janine rambles eagerly. 

Everyone’s eyes were on you as you gave a small wave and started to hand out some coffee. You let your eyes drift to a redhead with glasses focused on grading some papers. Noticing no coffee next to her, you made your way toward the table and gently put down a cup next to her. The sound made Melissa look up, preparing to give a cold response. However, she was surprised to find a sweet and unfamiliar face. 

Not expecting her eyes to look so mesmerizing, you practically stutter out, “Hi, I noticed you didn’t have any coffee cup next to you, so I just wanted to give you one.” Melissa blinked for few times, not used to kind gestures from strangers, let alone pretty ones. She didn’t reply until Barbara elbowed her side and she jolted back into reality. “Thanks for the coffee, sweetheart,” she murmured. You could feel your face turning beet red at the nickname as you nod slowly and make your way back to the table where Janine sat. 

Melissa smirked at your reaction, watching you turn and walk toward Janine’s table. In the corner of her eye, she saw her friend shaking her head. “Melissa Schemmenti, you sure are something,” Barbara states as she returned to her morning crossword. The redhead shrugged. She already had her coffee for the morning, but she wouldn’t mind another one if it came from you. 

Taking a sip of her new coffee, Melissa paused, licked her lips, and turned to Barbara. “Oh my god, this coffee is unbelievable.” Her friend raised an eyebrow as she took another sip. Melissa thought that it was about time she paid a visit to the coffee shop across the street. 

--

It was a busy morning for you. Your alarm didn’t go off and when you got to the cafe, you found the sink in the back having some issues. You were scrambling to fix the pipes somehow when you hear the doorbell ring. Panicking, you quickly made sure there would be no leaks and stood up, moving to wash your hands. “Hi, welcome to the cafe! Give me one second and I’ll be right with you,” you said promptly. You came out to the front but slowed down when you recognized who it was waiting to order. There she was in all her glory with her leather jacket and fiery hair. Realizing you’re still at work, you snap out of it. “What can I get you?” You lean on the counter waiting for her order.

Approaching the table, you handed the captivating woman her coffee and felt the redhead’s hand brush against yours. Your face was painted with a light blush, causing the woman to grin. “What’s your name, hon?” God, this woman was going to kill you. 

“The name’s Y/N. Nice to finally know the name of the gorgeous lady I saw the other day,” you replied. You weren’t sure where this confidence came from, but those questions disappeared when you witnessed her eyes widen at the unexpected answer. The moment was quick though, for she recovered and quipped back, “Well, nice to meet you Y/N. The name’s Melissa. What’s a pretty girl like you doing working in a coffee shop?”

From then on, Melissa came every morning before her classes started. It didn’t matter the circumstances: rain, hail, shine, snow, she would still be there every single morning chatting away with you. She said that it was because the coffee there was just unmatched by any she’s had anywhere else. You’d like to believe that if it weren’t for the fact that you two exchanged flirtatious remarks every single day. 

--

Another dreaded Monday came for everyone and it became a regular sight to see Melissa walking into the staff room with a coffee from the shop across the street. The redhead sat down in her usual place next to Barbara who glanced at the coffee but said nothing. Everyone was wondering the same thing, but no one wanted to say it. Janine, brave as ever, decided to break the silence. “So… you must really like the coffee from the shop that Y/N runs right?” Melissa looks at Janine and then proceeds to look at the coffee cup. A soft smile appears on her face as her thoughts drift to you and all the moments the two of you shared over the past month or two. “Hello, earth to Melissa!” Janine says with a confused expression. 

Melissa looks back up at Janine. “Yea, she makes the best coffee I’ve had in a while,” she says hastily as she goes back to her grading. Jacob turns away from Melissa to mutter to Janine and Gregory. “The coffee’s not the only thing that Melissa keeps going back for..” Gregory snorted as Janine tried her best not to laugh. 

Melissa heard what Jacob said and she thought about it for the entire day. Sure, the coffee was amazing, but it definitely wasn’t the real motivation for coming to the cafe every single day. Melissa finally came to the realization that Jacob was right. The next morning, the redhead practically barged through the door and walked towards you. The sudden impact of the door startled you as you see Melissa coming towards you with an unreadable expression. You couldn’t help but feel nervous as she rounds the counter and kisses you. To say you were caught off guard would be an understatement, but not wanting to give the wrong impression, you kissed her back. After what seemed like forever, both of you pulled away and a comfortable silence filled the room. 

“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?” Melissa let out a light chuckle before deciding to respond. “What do you say to dinner at my place tonight, hon?” The smile you offer her gives Melissa the answer she’s looking for.

[i23kazu]

LET LIGHT STREAM IN

characters. neuvillette x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. this will be ooc! please forgive me hehe but practice will be the way i get to write neuvillette. so please don't comment things like "no he would not say that" because fanfic will be fanfic! also neuvillette is 100% the melusines' father. | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

waking up with neuvillette is usually one type of morning or the other, you feel. some mornings are filled with the both of you hastily rushing for work. while neuvillette is typically calm, composed, and is able to take his time in the morning... you, on the other hand, often do not experience that luxury. most mornings are equated with your hands haggardly slamming the alarm button on your phone, until you're left with fifteen minutes to get up and get out of the house.

on occasions, neuvillette takes the time to prepare breakfast for the both of you – pain au chocolats and fresh milk that are delivered by the faithful melusines often grace your dining table, and fresh loaves of bread from the bakery of hotel debord are quickly paired with the coldest, saltiest slabs of butter.

on the other side of your relationship's shared mornings, you and neuvillette get to lay cosily beneath your covers, nestled in warmth. you tiredly turn to glance at him, still clad in his silk pajamas, and his still-sleeping face leaning towards you.

"good morning, my dear," you whisper, gently running your fingers through his hair. at this point... who cares if he wakes up. not you. his hair is so, so soft – too soft for you to remove it.

your hands suddenly draw back when a tired groan is heard. a groan so soft, perhaps only one of your dear melusines could have heard it. neuvillette mumbles something and turns away from you.

"dearest. isn't it about time to wake up? surely the great chief justice of fontaine would never be seen sleeping in," a teasing lilt fills your voice. your fingers reach to run through his hair again, soothing and quieting any murmurs you hear.

your fleece blanket is pulled off his torso, and neuvillette opts for the coverage of his pillow instead. whatever coverage it could lend to the cold of the room, anyways.

you spot the slightest hint of a smile on your beloved's face as he exhales lightly, mimicking his sleeping position earlier – the smile vanishes as quickly as it appears.

"get up. with the rate you're sleeping in, rufina would have eaten all the croissants on their way here!" you remove the pillow as well. neuvillette's hands make their way up to shield his eyes.

"can't your most beloved get a bit more shut-eye before his work?" neuvillette blinks at you, the smile returning to his features.

"crime and villainy do not have the day off, and so justice must work round the clock as well. isn't that right, chief justice? plus, i'm sure your little melusines miss their papa. it wouldn't do for them to spend so much time away from you," you tease once more, moving from the bed to open the windows.

fresh air fills the room, the petrichor scent of last night's rain – you and neuvillette had been watching a rather emotional film – wafts through the windows as well. fontaine's skies have been painted with a beautiful blue, and the grounds a vivid green. you hear the melodies of birds and the conversations of the swans and ducks from the lake; yes, it's morning once more in fontaine. dawn's light streams in through the windows once more.

"alright, alright – i'm up." neuvillette pretends to grouch, standing up and making his way to your side, wrapping his arms around you. "good morning, my sweet dove."

reblogs w/ tags & comments appreciated !!!

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @softcosmixs @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki (send ask to be added to taglist)

[stardustedwanderer]

((for the curious there may have been.. some precedence behind that ask. :3c))

catsiff catsiff catsiff catsiff

[stardustedwanderer]

((sod it, throwing these here too because i am Amused.))

[stormyelliotwritez]

long term relationship with gambit but just on a cute domestic fluffy date.. maybe picnic… flowers and shit.. hes so cute and silly i love my girlfriend remy 🦕

OH MY GOD PRETTY BOY TIME

fair warning: i don’t know how to speak french or cajun or what its called so it’ll be kinda ooc maybe

PICNIC TIME

You and Remy had been dating for ages but you didn’t go on many dates due to life and everything that seemed to follow mutants. So when he suggested a picnic date, you jumped at the opportunity to have a picnic and just be his boyfriend for once.

“Come on, bél ti gason,” he said with a smile as he walked you up the hill. He was holding his hands over your eyes and when he stopped walking, he took his hands off your eyes.

There was a purple, checkered picnic blanket on the floor with a cute picnic basket. Remy could be such a romantic when he wanted to be. He pulled you onto the blanket and then onto his lap. “What do you want to try first?”

You giggled and opened the basket. Inside was an assortment of foods. There was some cheese and some chocolate filled croissants and little strawberries and chocolate and some wine. “A strawberry, baby,” you said.

He pulled the little container of strawberries out and picked the most yummy looking one because only the best for his boyfriend. He held it up and smiled. You playfully opened your mouth and he slipped it in. You bit down and it tasted so good. “Mhmm,” you murmured.

“It good, baby? My boyfriend gets the bestest of the best. T’es le plus bel homme au monde, mon amour.” He pulled you closer against his chest so you were wrapped in his arms. With a wide smile, he kissed you on the top of your head. “Ou se bagay ki pi bèl ki janm vini nan lavi mwen,” he smiled.

You looked up at him with a smile. “What did you say, baby?” Him speaking like that to you always made you smile and giggle.

He let go of you with one hand and picked up a croissant. He offered it to you to bite and you did. “Nothing, baby, just saying how much I love you.”

You giggled again, now with a mouthful of croissant and he kissed you on the top of your head once more. To him, you were the most amazing man he’d ever set eyes on and he’d do anything for you.

“I love you, Remy,” you said quietly. He smiled and pulled out a rose from the basket. He handed it to you. “I love you too, chere.”

You sniffed the rose and turned to face him. “It’s beautiful, my love.” He moved a hand to your cheek and gently pulled you in for a kiss. It was gentle and you kissed him back, slightly more passionate.

A few minutes later when you could hardly breathe, you pulled apart. He gasped and ran his hands through your hair. “I can’t believe you’re mine, cherie.”

You two sat and grazed for hours. He’d feed you strawberries and you’d taste his glass of wine. He’d brought two bottles so you guessed he’d organized for one of your friends to pick you up.

He was the most perfect man you’d ever dated. He always knew what you needed and he almost always got it for you. He would steal the moon for you and you’d steal the sun for him. You two were made for each other and not even Death would threaten to steal you from each other.

[floxtingdrm]

𝙊𝙣𝙚𝙞𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙖𝙭𝙞𝙖

(𝙽): 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢.

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Fluff

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Alkaid McGrath, Lars Rorschach, Clarence Clayden, Ayn Alwyn, Cael Anselm.

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞: On

𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: Headcannon.

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬: They/them.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You called them by a weird nickname.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: ooc characters, please note I made this for shits and giggles and is not meant to be taken seriously, thank you.

𝘼𝙡𝙠𝙖𝙞𝙙

♡ “Hm? Is there something you need, darling?”

♡ Was a bit confused at first but recovers fast.

♡ He might have already guessed it was going to happen at some point in your relationship, however didn't think it would be so soon.

♡ Would tease you back for the weird nickname and potentially use a weird nickname as well.

♡ If you used the weird nickname in public he won’t really mind, however as your punishment for doing so you’re sentenced to cuddles and headpats.

♡ “You’re so cute, my little gremlin with a pencil~” you called him garlic bread.

♡ Nicknames that were used: star stalker, garlic bread, rocky mountain oysters, garden hoe-

𝙇𝙖𝙧𝙨

♡ “Really? Goldie locks??”

♡ He doesn’t hate it, he likes it but he usually pouts when you call him by a very random nickname out of nowhere.

♡ He doesn’t mind the more “tame” versions of your nicknames if you used them in publics, the others? He’s gonna sulk.

♡ Will get revenge by calling you with weird nicknames as well, however is not very creative with them.

♡ Your punishment for these nicknames will usually be no cuddles nor kisses until you comfort him out of his sulking phase.

♡ “That still isn’t enough for me to get out of my sulking phase, snail eggs.”

♡ Nicknames that were used: Waffle fries, baby with a wallet, Goldie locks, w a l n u t

𝘾𝙡𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚

♡ “B-Buffalo wings?? What makes you say that?”

♡ Flabbergasted, shocketh, his reaction would probably be the funniest.

♡ Will never get used to you calling him nicknames out of nowhere especially when you call him “buttery croissant”

♡ Do NOT try to call him any of the weird nicknames when he’s at an important event because if you do, I hope your brain has the mental capacity for the extra tutoring from him.

♡ He will try to call you with a weird nickname but will end up snickering to himself when he sees your face and in the end laughs to himself quietly.

♡ “Your answer is wrong, hairless cat.”

♡ Nicknames that were used: Rubiks cube, eight grade math teacher, cat dad, paralysis demon, buttery croissant, buffalo wings.

𝘼𝙮𝙣

♡ "Call me Tsundere one more time, I dare you"

♡ The most unamused out of all of them, he doesn't entirely hate it... later on but it is a nightmare when you started calling him all sorts of things.

♡ He will ignore you in public if you try to call him with any of the names, if you provoke him hard enough consider dodging lessons with the number of times he's gonna shut you up with kisses, or not-

♡ You think he might not call you with weird nicknames but don't let your guard down too quick, he's going to make you regret calling him "short king" (he's not short compared to the average height but since he was the shortest out of everyone on the list I thought it would be funny)

♡ Once you're done and finish with your weird nickname shenanigans it's his turn to attack with the list of weird nicknames he's compiled in secret.

♡ "Where are you looking at, hagfish~?"

♡ Nicknames that were used: emo vampire, batfish, scaramouche kinnie (no offence-).

𝘾𝙖𝙚𝙡

♡ "Breakfast is Crepes with whipped cream and strawberries"

♡ Out of of all the people, he's the one who doesn't seem to have a reaction at all to your nickname shenanigans, he took care of you, of course he's prepared for your chaos.

♡ He doesn't even care what you call him in public, he's that unbothered by it it almost makes you feel bored, however...

♡ Cael seems to frown and has this annoyed look on him, even if it was brief every time you call him by a certain nickname.

♡ He won't treat you out of the ordinary even when you use the nicknames that make him frown a bit, though don't expect to know how he's planning to teach you a lesson in his own way.

♡ "You're drink is bitter? Perhaps I should just give you milk, fetus~" safe to say the war is far from over.

♡ Nicknames that were used: Marinated wine, dinosaur's cousin, princess, great great great great great grandfather.

Au notes: I was bored.

[mlwritingprompts]

Submitted prompt:

Strikeback AU, Adrien/Cat Noir bashing/salt, Felix/Flairmidable, Adrien OOC, Felix doesn't win here and neither does Adrien, warning: poisoning.

___

Cat Noir watched as Ladybug and Flairmidable were talking together. He was perplexed about the new Dog hero, as she just lent the same Miraculous to a girl just a couple of days ago. He didn't think Miss Hound was a memorable addition to the team but he also couldn't remember her double crossing Ladybug in any way to justify getting her replaced from the team so suddenly. Especially by this random dude, who seemed to try his luck with his lady.

He then noticed how flustered Ladybug was getting around this new hero. "So it's him !" Cat Noir murmured under his breath. "I knew she'd recruit the guy she's in love with in her team eventually, I bet she was just waiting for this moment to finally get rid of him completely by having her crush fight alongside him. Too bad that I came prepared for this day!" He finally took out a croissant, which he Cataclysmed with his finger. However the croissant didn't disintegrate or even change composition at all. "Plagg told me that you can use Cataclysm to destroy the composition of an object but not the object itself so you can trick your opponents into thinking the object it's still intact. This method works on food as well and it makes what looks a completely delicious croissant become literally poison."

"Now it's time to get my payback" - murmured Cat Noir again. He went to Ladybug and Flairmidable and of course Ladybug tried to excitedly introduce him to the new hero, but he was having none of it. "I can't wait to wipe that smirk off your face".

He started eating a croissant in front of both of them and Ladybug scolded him about this not being the right time for it, but Cat Noir argued that he was too hungry to wait any longer. Flairmidable's stomach suddenly started growling much to his annoyance and Cat Noir's satisfaction "And it looks like I'm not the only one who is".

"Of course that loser had to start chewing that damn thing just as I'm quite literally starving over here". The moment Felix saw Adrien was due to leave Paris today he skipped all of his meals so he could come over to Paris to swap places with Adrien before he would leave. He had no other choice, this was his once in a lifetime opportunity to rob his uncle of the jewelery that was holding his life and he already got sidetracked by the fake Miraculous, but at least Ladybug unknowingly gave him the opportunity to outsmart his uncle once and for all. He was willing to deal with all of these annoying people and his body's needs in order to achieve his goal. He wasn't gonna let a hungry stomach get in the way of his mission !

"Hey, dude!", Cat Noir suddenly startled him from his thoughts. "It looks like I'm not the only who needs a bite. Lucky for you I've got a second croissant and I'm willing to give it to you."

Flairmidable: Sorry to tell you, but I don't need anything from you. If you can't see, we've got a villain to deal with, we don't have time to lose to eat sweet croissants ! Flairmidable's stomach started growling again after he said that "Crap!".

Cat Noir: Your stomach is clearly disagreeing with you about that, my cat ears don't lie. And look, we need all the energy possible to defeat this villain and Ladybug's gonna take her sweet time to gather everyone around for her final plan, so you have time enough time to devour this sweet croissant before we get into position.

Flairmidable: Ughh, fine, but I'm only doing this to shut you up.

Cat Noir: And your stomach as well I bet. Cat Noir winked.

Flairmidable started quickly eating the croissant. He didn't want to admit it, but it was delicious.

Cat Noir: I can tell you from what bakery you can find more such delicious croissants if you're a fan.

Flairmidable: Let's stop wasting time and concentrate on the villain at hand. "After all, he was after a much bigger prize later on."

Ladybug gathered and gave everyone from the team her multipled Lucky Charm sunnyglasses so they could go in and defeat Strikeback. As Flairmidable was about to take his pair, his stomach suddenly started growling intensely, making him drop his glasses and clutch his abdomen in pain. Everyone started being worried about Flairmidable instantly except for Cat Noir.

Ladybug: Are you alright Flairmidable ? What happened to you ?

Cat Noir: I think he's still hungry for some more of my delicious croissants. Said Cat Noir smirking.

Flairmidable's face turned green after hearing Cat Noir say that.

Flairmidable: Croissants ... (another intense stomach growling) let me go, LET ME GO !

He suddenly run over to the edge of the rooftop so he could start puking on the streets. And his puking was uncontrollable.

Ladybug: Oh My God Adrien ! Please detransform urgently, I think your Miraculous may have gotten broken and it's affecting your body !

Cat Noir murmured "Adrien ?!? I mean me ? How could that be possible ? Unless ... Oh no !"

Flairmidable detransformed and Cat Noir saw Felix in his earlier disguise of him. He stopped puking, but his face was still green and his stomach was still growling horribly while he was clutching it.

Felix: Help ... me ...

Cat Noir: Felix ?!? How are you here ?!? Why ?!

Ladybug: Wait, Felix ?!? Ladybug suddenly looked at the ill looking "Adrien".

Felix: You ... How could you ... ugh ... you couldn't ... couldn't have known it was me unless you ... you're Adrien !

Everyone suddenly gasped and Ladybug looked at Cat Noir with horror.

Ladybug: Cat Noir, is it true what he's saying ? You're really -

Cat Noir: Look M'Lady, I can explain !

Felix: You did it purposefully, suddenly shouted a green paled Felix. That croissant, you did this to me ! I will destroy you !

Felix got up and tried to charge up towards Cat Noir, but he was stopped in his tracks by more horrible growls coming from his infected stomach.

Felix: Oh no, not that again - suddenly he was back throwing up and this time he was doing it on the rooftop in front of everyone.

Ladybug: Someone needs to take him to receive medical help RIGHT NOW ! Carapace, take him to the nearest hospital that isn't in the radius of the sentimonsters.

Carapace took the almost unconcious Felix and started jumping towards the nearest undestroyed hospital "Please don't throw up on me dude".

Cat Noir: M'Lady look - but Ladybug stopped him in his tracks while she was examining by the Dog Miraculous.

Ladybug: You know Cat Noir, or should I say Adrien, Master Fu warned me that a Miraculous holder can only get sick while trasnformed if their Miraculous is damaged or their body got altered by another Miraculous' power. And the Dog Miraculous looks to be completely intact. So was what Flairmidable said true, did you really do something to him ?

Cat Noir: I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -

Ladybug: What did you ?!?

Cat Noir: I cataclysmed the composition of a croissant and then gave it him.

Ladybug: Why the hell you did that ? You could've killed him !

Cat Noir: I didn't want to kill him, just to make him a bit sick and make him unable to complete this mission, I didn't thought he'd get sick that badly !

Ladybug: But why ? Why would you poison your own cousin ?

Cat Noir: I didn't know he was MY cousin, I would've have done it if I knew. And truth be told, I didn't want to lose you !

Ladybug: What ?

Cat Noir: I thought this was the guy you were in love with with the way you were acting around him and I honestly couldn't stand the thought of you two working together, you replacing me with him, I needed to do something, I couldn't lose you, you know I'm still in love with you.

Ladybug looked at him in horror for a couple of moments afterwards, but finally resigned.

Ladybug: I should've done this earlier. She subtly gave a signal to someone behind her back.

Cat Noir: Do wh- Suddenly Cat Noir was paralyzed from behind his back by Vesperia. Ladybug took the Miraculous from him unceremounisly and he detransformed back to Adrien.

Ladybug: I'm sorry Adrien, but you've just proven yourself unworthy of the Miraculous.

[lloovvv]

CONTRITE - A NAVIA X GN!READER SMAU

synopsis - you were childhood friends with navia, until your family’s company got into a scandal and it came all crashing down in high school… after that incident, you ghosted everyone you met and went to inazuma to complete high school, after 3 years, you returned to inazuma... but what are you to do when you meet navia in college after those years of not seeing her? let us find out from this journey!

the FIRST navia smau (here, at least!)

warnings - kys/kms jokes, implied that y/n has no parents, swears, alcohol, y/n is a simp, ooc ofc, will add more in the future because it’s not fully planned.

status - ongoing

FEATURING: cousin neuvillette, furina, lyney, lynette, freminet, mona, clorinde, charlotte from the steambird, therapist friend kazuha, and arlecchino!

SIDE SHIPS: wriolette end game, wriothesley x reader in the beginning, kazuha x you from a different smau.

taglist: open!

profiles -

bitchless baguette lovers (Y/N’s group)

best croissant lovers (navia’s group)

extras

prologue

act 1: FRIENDS AGAIN?

chapter 1: meetings, and fate chapter 2: wtf

chapter 3: DATE! chapter 4: FAKE.

chapter 5: get drunk and party! chapter 6: i want what they have

chapter 7: goodbye chapter 8: unhappy moments

chapter 9: breakup chapter 10: regret.

TBA…

act 2: ISSUES!

TBA…

act 3: LOVE.

TBA…

[kingyo-konbini]

AMERICANO [PORTGAS D. ACE X READER]

[SUMMARY] you, chopper, and zoro offer to take the valentine's day shifts at the cafe, and you meet a man with a possible caffeine addiction. [PRONOUNS] gender neutral [GENRE] modern + coffee shop au [POV] second person [WORD COUNT] 1534 [CONTENT] first meetings | valentine's day | possibly slightly ooc Ace? [A/N] belongs to this one shot collection. kind of a valentine's day special I guess

You sipped casually on your drink, eyes fanning over the surprisingly bustling cafe before you.

Well, it shouldn’t have been a surprise, really. Valentine’s day was a prime opportunity for couples to go to cute little cafes and eat cute little desserts while drinking cute little drinks.

No, you weren’t bitter. Not at all.

Between you and the two coworkers you’d be working with that day, you were probably the one with the most complicated relationship regarding the holiday. Zoro hardly had a romantic bone in his body and could not care less about the quote-unquote “meaningless holiday,” and Chopper, while you knew he had the occasional crush, was just a kid and focused more on his studies and his job than any romantic aspirations.

You just didn’t want to be left alone to mope in your apartment while your roommate was off galivanting around town.

The sound of multiple cans hitting the counter drew your attention away from the couples, eyes landing on the man standing before you. He steadied the three cans of Red Bull and then turned to the bake case, eyes widening at the broad selection.

“Welcome to the Thousand Sunny, what can I get you today?” You put your drink away and tried not to focus on how handsome he was, even if there was something a little… greasy about him.

“Oh! Hi there.” The man straightened and shot you a cheeky grin, one hand going to scratch the back of his neck. He stared at you for a minute, like he’d been caught off guard or something, and you fought back the flush in your cheeks that came from being singled out in his attention. “Can I get one of those sandwich things with the egg on top, as many chocolate croissants as you’re willing to give me, three lemon bars, and four fruit tarts? Oh, and a medium extra-extra-hot americano with two extra shots in a large cup?”

Your fingers hovered over the screen, mouth open despite your best efforts to hide your surprise at the large order. You blinked, trying to process everything, when a knight in shining armor appeared.

“Ace?” Zoro’s voice came from behind you. You quickly glanced over, relieved that he’d come to your rescue and seemed to know this freckled, Hawaiian shirt-wearing guy. Wait, what did Zoro call him? “What are you doing here? Luffy doesn’t work today.”

“Ah, yeah, I know. I was craving something sweet so I thought I’d swing by during my lunch.” He smiled at Zoro, who moved to take your place in front of the monitor. You gladly let him. “It’s good to see you, man. Thanks for taking care of Luffy while he’s at work.”

Oh God, that’s Ace, one of Luffy’s older brothers.

“If you wanna thank someone, thank [Name]. That ero-cook’s been scheduling them with Luffy more than anyone else.” Zoro grunted, punching in Ace’s order. “Kitchen’s closed today, so no sandwich. Is this all going on your tab?”

“Yup, thanks. Gotta dine and dash today, Pops doesn’t want me slacking off just ‘cause it’s a holiday.” He turned to you then, a polite smile on his ridiculously handsome face. “You’re [Name], the new hire, yeah? Luffy’s told me all about you! Thanks for keeping an eye on him, even if he’s been around way longer than you. I know how troublesome he can get.”

You hesitated and then waved your hands in the air dismissively, shaking your head. “Oh no, really, there’s nothing to thank me for. Luffy’s a big help when it comes to the customers, which has let me familiarize myself with the drink recipes. Really, I should be thanking him.” You laughed airily, ignoring the curious look on Zoro’s face. “It’s uh, nice to finally put a face to the name! I’ve heard a bit about you, as well, though Luffy doesn’t really talk about his family all that much.”

An exaggerated pout pulled at his lips. “Aw, really? And here I thought he never shut up about me.” You almost panicked, but the teasing glint in his eyes told you he was only messing with you. “Well, [Name]-san, I can guess why Zoro’s working today, but why are you? Surely you have better things to do on Valentine’s day.”

Your eyes shot wide open, completely shocked at his forwardness. Was he… was he flirting with you?

Zoro cleared his throat and shoved a large cup in your hands, the order written on it. “Get started on the drink.”

“R- right.” You stuttered, ducking your head and avoiding Ace’s gaze. You scurried off to the espresso machine and began preparing the drink, Zoro and Ace chatting as the former pulled out the requested desserts. You felt your ears burn as you recalled the conversation that had just occurred; why on Earth would Ace of all people flirt with you? You must have been mistaken, there was no way that was even an option. He was probably like Sanji in that respect, always tossing out compliments without really thinking. Yeah, that had to be it.

“Oh, hi Ace!” Chopper’s voice hit your ears– he must have finished his lunch, which meant you’d be able to take your lunch and escape from the situation once you made this drink.

“Hey, Chopper! How’re your studies going? Luffy mentioned you had a big test the other week.”

The sound of the shot being pulled muffled the rest of their words, allowing you a brief moment to collect your thoughts. With the drink made you grasped the cup, your fingers burning slightly as the heat from the extra-extra-hot water seeped through the material, causing you to hurriedly slip on a sleeve. You popped the lid on and took a deep breath before mustering your best customer-service smile, sliding the completed drink across the bar and next to the plated pastries and cans of Red Bull.

Ace beamed at you, immediately stopping in the middle of his sentence. “Thanks!” He chirped, popping the lid off. You watched, eyes widening in horror as he opened one of the cans of Red Bull and poured the contents into the cup. He popped the lid back on and, without hesitating for even a moment, took several large sips of the piping hot monstrosity. Once again your jaw dropped, not sure how to process what you’d just seen. Who in their right mind mixes that much caffeine together? And who on Earth is able to drink something that hot without dying? 

He must be made of fire, or something.

Zoro laughed at your shocked expression, Chopper joining in and grabbing the empty can off the counter and tossing it into one of the trash cans.

Ace pulled his lips from the lid and sighed in content, flashing another beaming smile your way as he held the cup tight. “That’s perfect, thanks [Name]!”

“I- uh- it���s- it’s just espresso and water.” You stuttered, discreetly kicking the back of Zoro’s leg in an attempt to get him to stop laughing. It didn’t work.

“Well, it’s great.” Ace grinned. “Thanks again.”

You hummed and nodded, and then watched as he practically inhaled the entirety of the food he’d ordered. It seemed like everything he did was a surprise to your poor heart, and you weren’t sure how much more you’d be able to take.

You busied yourself with some cleaning and tidying up as Ace, Chopper, and Zoro continued their conversation, doing your best not to think about the man’s earlier words and insinuation. You hardly even noticed when he said his goodbyes and began making his way out of the cafe, barely getting out a polite farewell before the door swung shut.

You could hear Zoro and Chopper snickering behind you, and with a huff you shoved the rag you’d been using to clean into the older male’s hands. “I’m going on lunch.” You grumbled, untying your apron as you made your way to the back. 

Once situated in front of the microwave, lazily watching as your food reheated, you felt the phone in your back pocket buzz. With a quirked brow you pulled it out and then froze.

It was a text from an unknown number.

[Unknown Number: Hey, [Name]! It’s Ace, hope you don’t mind I got your number from Luffy. If you’re not busy with a date or whatever after work, would you like to get coffee or something? I try to make it a point to get to know all of my brother’s friends.]

Your heart stuttered in your chest, trying to figure out how best to proceed.

[You: Hi! No, I don’t have anything to do after work, though I’m not sure you need any more caffeine. We could do dinner, though?]

You hit send without allowing yourself the time to second-guess your words, adding his number to your contacts.

The reply came quickly.

[Ace: I’m always down for food! What were you thinking? There’s this really good barbeque place I know, if you like meat.]

You grinned and typed your response, easily falling into a comfortable text exchange even as the microwave interrupted you with its loud beeps.

Perhaps Valentine’s day wouldn’t suck this year.