#Cross-Eyed Mary

[rastronomicals]

3:08 PM EDT April 9, 2024:

Iron Maiden - "Cross-Eyed Mary" From the album Best Of The B-Sides (November 4, 2002)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

File under: NWOBHM

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

𝔍𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔬 𝔗𝔲𝔩𝔩 – ℭ𝔯𝔬𝔰𝔰-𝔈𝔶𝔢𝔡 𝔐𝔞𝔯𝔶

[icarus-suraki]

Woke up with this in my head (because they played it on the radio Friday and it's been there ever since) so now you can have it too.

[jt1674]

[myimaginaryradio]

Cross Eyed Mary - Jethro Tull

[tsukasageorge]

ranked pretty much all of my finished art on my computer and a couple sketches. can you tell i like hunter x hunter

[goofygoldengirl]

Wouldn't it be a really sick prank if Ghost said they were going to be playing Mary on a Cross but instead played Jethro Tull's Cross Eyed Mary?

[fhear]

Jethro Tull - Cross Eyed Mary

[wonderjanga]

Marvel Cursing

You see, Marvel cursing, is a rare occurrence as the man’s swear vocabulary normally consists of “holy moly” and “oh my days” and “good gravy” and just things along those lines. So much so that JL kind of forgets that he can curse as he’s (supposedly) a grown ass man. As a result of this, it will give them major whiplash when Marvel does curse. And just for me, myself and I, whenever this happens, he pulls out the most midwestern accent ever. I say this cause Fawcett is somewhere in the Midwest.

Like let’s say Constantine and Marvel are talking and Clark is nearby doing whatever and after a bit, their conversation ends and Constantine walks off. As the blonde man is leaving, Clark hears Marvel fake a cough and mutter “bitchass” under his breath. It’s safe to say Billy’s still a little (a lot) mad about Constantine trying to take the living lightning from him. But anyways, hearing this, Supes stops whatever he was doing and slowly looks over to Marvel who’s kinda not really but also definitely glaring at Constantine as the man left. For the rest of the day, Clark kept side eying Marvel to see if he was mind controlled but then he remembered the Cap was a grown ass man and that he could cuss if he pleased. (None of the league knows he’s a child guys)

Or another time when Marvel was talking to Mary in the kitchen of Mount Justice. Kid Flash sped by just in time to hear Marvel say something along the lines of “Christ on a cross, what a dumb cunt” while sounding so disappointed in whoever that was directed at. Wally poked his head into the kitchen to see the two, Mary sitting by the counter and Marvel making some type of dessert. He was wearing a lightning bolt patterned apron and everything.

Kid Flash: “Heeeey guys… Whatcha talking about?” *has never heard Marvel curse once in his entire time of being their den mother so he’s naturally a little concerned*

Mary and Marvel: *share look before looking back at Kid Flash*

Mary: “We were talking about… uh… Your guy’s recent performance in field!” (They weren’t. They were actually talking about some crackhead who lived nearby them.)

Marvel: “Yeah, that.” *stops stirring batter in a bowl* “By the way, I’m making cookies, you want some later?”

Kid Flash: “Oh. Uh… yeah. Igottagobye.” *zooms off to the lounge*

Marvel and Mary: *both confused at the sudden departure, but shrug it off and go back to talking about the crackhead*

Kid Flash: *now in the lounge* “Guys- Guys!”

Other YJ members: “What?”

Kid Flash: “Marvel thinks one of us is dumb cunt!”

Other YJ members: “WHAT?”

They all ended up trying to do that thing where you subtly ask someone for information like “Hey, Marvel, how’d you think we all did during the last mission?” “You all did wonderful!” Safe to say it doesn’t really help them. Also neither Mary, nor Billy realize they just made these kids more insecure than their teenage brains naturally make them.

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

Innocence

Remus Lupin x f!reader

warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), fingering, slight hand job, virgin reader, purity ring 😮‍💨, making out, underage smoking, mention of underage drinking, slight innocence/ corruption kink, lmk if i missed any!

summary: remus learns the ring you wear everyday is called a purity ring, and he develops a strange obsession with it… and wanting to take it off you…

word count: 4.6k

a/n: guys.. dw there’s gonna b a part two but like omgggggg this made me feel so many things i’m in love with this. lmk what you think :) also i’m not religious so if any of this is not accurate i’m sorry lol it’s for the plot

part two is posted!!! here

~~~

Ever since he knew you, Remus noticed that one thing you always wore. It was plain, a simple gold band on your left ring finger, the marriage finger. Typically, such nonsense wouldn’t cross his mind twice, but you wore that ring damn ring every day. Since the first time he ever saw you, that ring was on your finger. He never saw you without it. So, his curiosity got the better of him.

Why would such a simple ring be so important that you never took it off? It couldn’t have been because you were married. No. You wore it even at the young age of eleven. Could it have been a family heirloom? That idea was plausible, however to him, it didn’t feel like the correct answer. And Remus Lupin always needed the correct answer.

So, he eventually decided to ask you.

During dinner one night, when you just so happened to be sitting next to him, his eyes caught sight of the ring and he eyed it suspiciously. You noticed this.

“Something wrong Rem?” You asked.

He looked up from the ring on your delicate finger to meet your confused eyes. “Why do you always wear that specific ring? And always on that finger? Is it special?”

“Oh.” You laughed for a few seconds. “Yeah, it’s stupid really, an old muggle tradition.” You composed yourself and looked up at him, a slight red tint to your cheeks. “It’s called a purity ring. Basically, I wear it as a reminder that I pledged to wait till marriage.”

Remus was confused, and he hated being confused. “Why would anyone wait till marriage?”

You shrugged. “Muggle religion is quite weird. They value keeping teenagers pure until they’re married. I think it’s stupid, but I still wear it.”

“So, you’ve done it but continue wearing it as a... symbol?” He questioned.

“Oh no, I haven’t done it. I might find it stupid, but I still plan to keep my promise. It’s sort of a nice accomplishment don’t you think? I’ve gone through two years of everyone shagging around me and I haven’t given in,” you answered.

He stared at you for a few seconds. You were still a virgin, and that ring was the reason. He thought for a moment. How could you be a virgin? He swore he had seen you go off with a bloke from Ravenclaw a few months ago during a party. But then as his eyes trailed over your small figure, he realized the idea wasn’t completely impossible. He’d never seen you with hickeys, he’d never seen you dress improperly, and he surely had never seen you enter the common room after a long night with someone. For some reason, it made a strange feeling bloom deep inside him.

“Surely you’ve at least done other stuff, right?”

You simply shook your head and took a bite from your sandwich. “Furthest I’ve ever gone is having some Ravenclaws tongue down my throat.”

Ah, so he was right about that.

“Besides, I don’t really even know much about any of that stuff. I mean I know biology, but that’s about it. And of course, what Marls and Mary tell me from their extravagant experiences,” you added after swallowing.

So that meant...

“You haven’t done anything?” He was surprised, it was clear in his tone.

“No need to sound so flabbergasted. Besides, why do you even care about what I’ve done? I always thought you were the modest type too,” you replied with an eye roll.

Remus looked away from you, and the urge to smirk took him over. He thought back to those countless nights over the summer breaks he’d spent with muggle girls. The feelings, the sounds, the tastes, all experiences he’d never forget. But by no means was Remus Lupin a player, oh no. He was nothing like his mate. However, he also wasn’t a saint like everyone painted him out to be.

“I may be modest but that doesn’t mean I’m a virgin,” he said after a moment, his eyes finally turned back to you. He liked the way you looked at him. “That went away a few summers ago.”

You smiled, though something about it was off, almost as if it were forced. “Well, cheers to that.”

“Cheers.” He nodded in agreement.

You turned back to the group conversation before he could say anything else.

~~~

Remus had thought after finding out what the ring's importance was, he would let it go and move on. Unfortunately, he had thought wrong. Ever since that conversation with you, he couldn’t get any of it off his mind. When he’d see you, he’d always look at your left hand, almost making sure that ring was still there. It always was. And for some reason it made him feel almost relieved. He needed more answers.

Thankfully, another opportunity came not too long after the first.

The two of you had been paired together in potions. Typically, he would be a bit upset with the fact given you were never the best in the subject. But for the first time, he was pleased with the pairing.

He watched as you cut up some of the ingredients, that stupid ring shining from the lights. Questions filled his head. Where had you gotten it? When did you get it? Who gave it to you? Did your parents know what it meant? What were you supposed to do with it when the time finally came? He needed to get the answers.

“So, when did you get it?” He casually asked his eyes on the cauldron.

“Get what?”

“The ring.”

You chuckled. “You’re still on about that? I suppose you aren’t too accustomed to muggle things. I got it right before I came here actually. My parents wanted to give me a reminder about life at home, and they wanted to make sure I knew where my ‘loyalties’ lay. Though, I was only a little girl. Did they expect anything to happen at that young?”

Three questions were answered. Good.

Remus dropped his chopped ingredients into the cauldron. “Does that mean you give it back to them when you finally do it?”

“Oh no. I give it to my husband of course,” you replied. “Do these look alright?”

He finally turned his head in your direction and looked over your cutting board then he met your eyes. “Perfect. You can put them in.”

“You don’t know how good that makes me feel to hear. Master of potions Remus Lupin says I’m perfect, I could faint,” you said as you scrapped your work into the cauldron, a hint of laughter in your voice.

He rolled his eyes. “I said your cutting was perfect, but if it makes you feel good, I suppose you are too.”

You looked up at him with a glint in your eyes that made an odd feeling form in his chest. You looked so damn innocent. How had he not noticed it before? You had always been one of the shyer members of Gryffindor, but he always brushed it off as nothing important. He never would’ve guessed just how innocent you were.

“How sweet of you.” You giggled.

“ ’Course, anytime love.”

He noticed the shift in your body at his words. How odd. You looked away from him for a few seconds, that familiar rose tint returning to your cheeks. Did you always do that? Did such simple words always make you blush and turn away? Or was it just him? He watched you bite down on your lip and fiddle with your ring.

You were teasing him.

It was then he decided he was going to get that ring from you.

And you were going to love it.

~~~

Getting you to that point was going to take some time, Remus knew that. But it didn’t stop him. He started simply. When the two of you were hanging out in the group, he made sure to at least say a few words to you alone. When eating meals, he made sure to get a spot next to you. Most importantly though, he started making sure to leave subtle hints. Lingering eye contact, small touches that weren’t necessary, comments that made your face turn red. He could tell all of it made you flustered, and he loved it.

During all of it, his obsession with your innocence only grew. He wanted to take it away. He wanted to taint you, to make you not so pure anymore. He didn’t understand the feeling, he never cared much for such stereotypical nonsense. But each time you looked at him with those curious, innocent eyes, it only made his patience strained.

The first breakthrough came during one of Sirius and James’s parties. The common room blared with music, and people laughed and danced. You were among them. Remus leaned against the wall next to the staircase to the boy's dorm, a cigarette between his lips as he watched you dance with Mary and Lily. Your smile was bright, your body moved to the rhythm almost perfectly. You wore a pretty little dress. But he couldn’t focus on any of that because that damn ring caught his attention.

It had become quite a distraction. He found himself staring at it far more than normal. During class and dinner, it consumed most of his thoughts. He needed to get it off your finger before it caused his grades to slip.

From across the room, your eyes suddenly found his. You gave him a questioning look; he only smirked back and released a cloud of smoke into the air. He watched you say something to the girls before you began to walk in his direction. Perfect.

“Why do you always stand on the sidelines?” You asked once you were close enough. “And if you’re going to stare at me all night you might as well just dance with me.”

He chuckled and took another drag from the cigarette. “I’m not the biggest fan of these parties and I definitely don’t dance.” He offered you the cigarette, and you shook your head and pointed to your ring. “Come on, that applies to cigs too?”

“And alcohol, pretty much whatever is considered sinful. Though, I have indulged in a drink or two. Mommy and Daddy don’t need to know about that,” you answered.

Merlin, he needed to do something with you. It was almost unbearable.

“You’re saying alcohol and cigs are sinful but intense snogging isn’t? Seems a bit hypocritical to me,” he eventually said.

You smiled and shrugged. “That’s muggle religion for you. It’s pretty much up to each person's interpretation and what they value. I value being sober more than refraining from a snog occasionally.”

“But a shag...”

“That’s universally seen as a big sin. Most of us would agree not to do it until marriage.”

He released another breath of smoke. “Most of you?”

“Well, not everyone agrees of course. Like I said, it’s technically up to everyone’s values. Murder is also considered a sin, you know. But even some people commit that,” you explained. He watched you blush. “I don’t think I should compare virginity to murder though.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s a fair comparison,” he replied, his lips turned up into a smile.

You turned even more red. “Sorry. But you get what I’m saying, right?”

“Everything is optional is what you’re saying.” He let his eyes trail over your body, making sure you noticed. “So really, you could fuck someone before marriage.”

“I mean yeah, I could, but I don’t think I will,” you said. You began to fiddle with the ring again. “It’s sort of always been with me it would feel weird giving it to someone else.”

“Do you have to give it away for anything? Or just actual sex?” It was another question he’d been dying to know. He watched you think for a moment.

“I think just the full thing. I don’t know. I don’t even really know that much about it like I said when you first asked me. I mean, I know people use their hands and mouths but... sorry. I shouldn't be talking about such things.” You put your face in your hands, Remus couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sorry.”

He needed to do something. Now.

“Don’t be sorry love, it’s alright. You know you can trust me; I wouldn’t dare tell anyone about your sinful thoughts,” he spoke. He turned and dropped his cigarette into one of the many ashtrays in the common room. When he looked back at you, you were already looking at him. “But you know if you ever wanted to indulge in something like that, you can come to me.”

You were beyond flustered, and it showed. “Oh! That’s very um... generous of you, but I don’t think I’ll do any of that I mean... I don’t plan on it.”

He casually shrugged. “We all get a bit curious at some point in our lives.”

For a moment the two of you only stared at each other. He could tell exactly what you were thinking. You were curious. You wanted to try things. He observed you carefully. He could sense the conflict within you. Value versus desire. It was a tough battle, but you didn’t cave. At least, not yet.

“Perhaps, but I made a promise and I need to stick to it,” you said. You looked over your shoulder at your clearly intoxicated friends. “I should get back to Lily and Mary.”

“Right, it was nice talking,” he replied with a smile.

You nodded. “I’ll see you later.”

“Till then love.”

Even as you walked away and joined your friends once again, he could see the way his words affected you. You could deny the feelings all you wanted, but your body craved the unknown. It was only a matter of time till you caved, and Remus would wait.

He was never one to give up easily.

~~~

You came to him faster than he expected. He understood why though, you were on edge about all of it. In the few days it took for you to go to him, he noticed how different you acted. You were more tense, you fiddled with your ring far more than normal. He imagined the inner conflict you faced was stressful, but he was glad about the turnout of it.

After dinner, as he was walking to the library for a study group, you found him. He was a bit surprised at your approach, but nevertheless, he welcomed it with joy.

“Hey Remus, could I talk to you for a second?” You asked.

You were a bit behind him, but he stopped instantly and turned to face you.

“Yeah, what’s going on?”

Your little bit of confidence quickly vanished. You avoided his gaze, focusing suddenly on your shoes. “Um, are you busy? It’s not really that important so if you have something else to do it can wait.”

He fought the urge to smirk. “I was just going to Lily’s little study group, but it can wait. Is something wrong?”

You shook your head and looked up at him, those big innocent eyes staring into his. “No uh... nothing's wrong. It’s just about... well... you know.”

“About what?”

“You know...”

“I don’t think I do love, you’re gonna have to use your words and tell me.”

He felt bad for teasing you, but it was too fun not to. The way your cute little eyes looked around the hallway to make sure no one else was around, the way you fidgeted, it was far too entertaining to stop. A moment passed before you finally spoke in a much softer tone than before.

“It’s about what we talked about at the party last weekend.”

“Oh?” He questioned. “What about it?”

He watched as you slid the ring up and down your finger. “You said um if I ever wanted to you know, indulge, that I could come to you.”

“Yes, I did say that.”

“So... um yeah,” you said. You looked almost uncomfortable. He knew he needed to be nicer.

“Are you asking if that offer is still there?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yes! I mean, um, is it?”

He glanced around to make sure nobody else was around before stepping closer to you. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your mouth parted ever so slightly. He touched his fingers to your chin, lifting your head gently.

“How about you come find out?”

You didn’t fight it. He was glad.

Not too long after that, Remus found himself in a position he’d desperately wanted for almost a month. You were laid out on his bed, open like a flower, and he was on top of you. Your robe, shirt, and tie were thrown to the floor. He kissed you hard, the reward of your gasps kept him going. He let one of his hands travel up your soft thigh, you were so warm, so inviting. It took all his self-control to keep him from moving too fast.

Before it began, you told him you had only ever snogged. That meant no boy had ever touched you. Not with a hand, not with his tongue, nothing. No one had ever even felt up your breasts. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t pleased with the information. He wanted you to be his, he wanted to be as many of your firsts as he could be.

“Can I touch you?” He eventually whispered on your skin; his lips were by your ear.

“Yes, please,” you replied, your breath ragged.

He continued to press soft kisses to your neck as his hand moved between your thighs. You were wet, very wet. He could feel it through your panties. It made him even harder than he already was. He slid his hand under your panties and began to rub soft circles on your clit, you gasped and lifted your hips in response.

You were perfect.

With every flick of his fingers, you let out little whimpers and moans, and one of your hands gripped his shoulder hard. He caught a few glances of your face between kisses. Your cheeks were red, your eyes squeezed shut. You were beyond beautiful.

After a few minutes, he moved his fingers down to your entrance. He made sure to collect your wetness and ask if it was alright before he began to slowly push one of his fingers inside you.

“Remus,” you mumbled as he started thrusting his finger in and out of you at a slow pace. “Fuck.”

“Does it hurt? Do you want me to stop?” He asked.

You lightly shook your head. “It feels so good, do not stop.”

“Do you want another one?”

“Yes.”

He complied instantly and added a second finger. You responded just the way he wanted. In only a few more minutes he was fucking you with his fingers, touching that spot inside that made your thighs clench around him. He kissed you hard, he loved how you struggled to kiss him back. When he also began to press his thumb to your clit, you became a mess.

“Fuck Rem, I-” You paused, your nails dug into his shoulder.

“You’re close.” It was a statement; he could feel your walls clenching around his fingers. He knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

“I am,” you practically whimpered.

“Let go, love, it’s alright.”

Only seconds later you did. You came hard. Your back arched off the mattress, your mouth hung open wide, and your thighs tightened around his hips. Remus had never felt anything as good as the feeling of your walls pulsating around his fingers as you came undone beneath him. He made sure to keep going till you were fully done. At that point, he pulled his hand out of your panties and up to his lips. He knew you were going to taste good.

You sat up, breathless. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I just- you just- we just... I’m going to hell.”

“Relax, it’ll be fine. People do this all the time and nothing bad happens, I promise it’s just a normal thing,” he said. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, he thought you looked so beautiful. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried about being judged or anything, I’m worried because I don’t feel guilty. I should feel guilty for it but I just... don’t. In fact, I think I...” You looked down at your hand, specifically the ring. “I think I want more.”

Remus couldn’t help the smirk that formed on his lips. “More?”

“Yeah, I mean it’s only right that I return the favor.” He watched your eyes move to his pants; your cheeks turned red. “You’ll have to show me how though.”

“Alright, only if, you’re sure. Don’t feel like you have to because I did something for you,” he replied though he really did want you to touch him. But he could wait if he had to.

“I want to.”

He didn’t question you further. Instead, he guided you through the process of getting him off with your hand. You were a fast learner, though the act itself wasn’t that hard to get the hang of. He found it funny the way you gasped at the size of him. Merlin, you were so innocent. Either way, you made him feel extraordinary. Your hand was much softer than his, and warmer too. You touched him gently, almost teasingly. But that changed fast.

“Can I try something else?” You asked, your hand stopped.

He almost groaned from the lack of motion. “What?”

“Um, can I try using my um...” You pointed to your lips.

“Your mouth?”

“Yeah.”

How could he ever refuse?

It was sloppy, it was rushed, but it was everything he could’ve wanted. As he laid back on the pillows, one of his hands moved through your soft hair. He didn’t dare push you. No. He only stroked your hair gently and whispered praises. He knew you liked it from the way you hummed on his cock each time he told you how good you were doing or how good you made him feel. And when you looked up at him with those eyes, those damn innocent eyes, he could barely contain himself.

He was shocked you even did it to begin with, but he was even more shocked when you let him finish in your mouth. You had him halfway down your throat when he came, and you didn’t pull away for a second. You swallowed it all. Somehow, he became even more attracted to you than he had been before.

“Was it good?” You questioned after you pulled back. You were kneeling beside his legs, a nervous expression on your face.

He smiled. “You were amazing. Are you sure you haven’t done that before?”

“Never even saw one in real life before this,” you replied with a laugh.

“That’s hard to believe,” he said. He sat up and pressed a kiss to your lips before pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. “Do you want to try one more thing?”

“Depends on what thing.”

“I’ll do what you just did to me but on you,” he answered, loving the way your eyes widened at his words. Despite everything that happened already, you were still so innocent. He adored it.

“Oh yeah okay,” you spoke after a moment.

He kissed you again. “Lay down.”

You did as he said and soon it began.

He started by kissing your lips while his hands pulled your skirt and panties off, leaving you only in a bra. Once those were off, he kissed down your neck, and your chest, only pausing for a second to unclip your bra and take one of your nipples in his mouth. You moaned, he stayed there for a few extra seconds. He then moved his mouth further down your body, relishing the sounds you made each time his lips made contact with your skin.

When he started to kiss up one of your thighs, you twitched. You were so sensitive, so untouched. He was obsessed with it. Every few kisses he sucked your skin to leave dark purple hickeys. He had made sure not to leave any on your skin that would be visible to the world so that no one would see the evidence of your sinful acts. But the skin that would be covered by clothing, that was his to mark.

A few minutes of this went by, and it was all on purpose. Remus could tell how eager you were for him to get on with it, but you were far too shy to tell him to do so. So, he didn’t dare touch you where you so desperately wanted him to. He wanted to hear you ask. But you said nothing, so he decided you needed a little push. He gave you one single lick then returned to your black and blue thighs.

“Remus,” you whispered. “Please.”

He looked up at you and almost felt bad. Your desperate eyes were already looking at him, he could tell how much you needed it. He didn’t wait any longer and gave you what you needed; you certainly earned it.

In all his experience with sex and everything surrounding it, Remus enjoyed pleasing his partner as anyone did. He didn’t mind going down on women, in fact, he sort of enjoyed it. At least until you. With you, he quickly realized having his head between your thighs and his tongue on your clit was not just alright, it was heavenly. He never enjoyed the taste of a girl like he enjoyed yours. You were sweet and the sounds you made as he played with you were their own type of reward.

So, it was no surprise how quickly you came undone on his tongue. He devoured you like he had been starving his whole life. Truthfully, he felt as if he had. You were spectacular. You were perfection. You were his. He was crazy about you.

After you finished, he wiped his mouth on one of your thighs before moving to lie on the bed next to you. He laid on his side facing you, his eyes examining your face. Your eyes were closed, and your cheeks were pink. Your hair was messy, and your lips were ever so slightly lifted into a smile. He swore he never saw anyone as beautiful in his life.

“I feel stupid,” you mumbled.

“Why?”

You opened your eyes and looked at him, your smile then undeniable. “I should’ve taken you up on your offer sooner. Now I understand why everyone’s so mad about this stuff, it’s unbelievable.”

“You don’t regret it then?” He asked.

“How could I? You’re just... Remus I...” You turned to your side to face him fully, one of your hands pressed against his chest. “I think we should do this again if you’d want to of course.”

He grinned and let a hand fall to your waist, he pulled you closer, so your bodies touched. He rested his chin on the top of your head, and you buried your face in his neck. For a moment he felt almost victorious, he had gotten you right where he wanted you to be. It would only be a matter of time before you let him take you fully. But then he realized, it wasn’t about taking your virginity so much anymore. He just wanted you.

“I wouldn’t want anything more,” he eventually said, then he pressed a kiss to your forehead, while the cold feeling of your ring on his chest lingered in the back of his mind.

Soon, it would be his. And so would you.

[aisiedaisie]

Royal Flush

Authors Note: Sorry this update took so long!!! I wanted to have the chapter put out by Monday but everyone in my house is sick with the flu. I wrote a bit more as an apology. I hope you enjoy!!!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader WC: 3.6K

As the sun slipped below the horizon, the last vestiges of daylight painted your room in muted hues of amber and lavender. The embroidery you had been working on lay abandoned on the small round table near the window, forgotten as the stillness was abruptly shattered. 

Lily stormed in, her fiery presence consuming the space, followed closely by Mary, who lingered near the door, her expression laced with concern. With an exaggerated sigh, the princess threw herself onto your bed, the linens crumpling beneath her in a dramatic display of exasperation.

You turned from the fading light, one brow arching in silent inquiry as your gaze flitted from Lily to Mary, whose fingers twisted together anxiously.

Mary finally broke the silence, her voice hesitant yet steady. “The dignitaries,” she began, her words faltering as she glanced at Lily, “are requesting our lady’s hand in marriage.”

The room seemed to still, the weight of the statement sinking in like a stone dropped into a calm pond. “What?” you breathed, the question spilling out before you could stop it. Your wide eyed gaze darted between Mary and Lily, searching for clarification.

“Why would they even suggest that?” you asked after a moment, the unease in Mary’s posture stoking a sense of dread deep in your chest.

Mary’s lips pressed into a thin line, a subtle gesture that spoke volumes. Her hesitation made the pit in your stomach deepen, and you knew her answer would bring no comfort.

“They wish to strengthen ties between the kingdoms,” Mary explained at last, her tone careful. “And since the prince decided to… leave the meeting rather abruptly, they began considering alternative candidates.” Her words were measured, but the underlying tension was unmistakable.

Lily  groaned and rolled onto her back, her peridot eyes dulled by frustration. “I can’t even blame him,” she muttered. “If I had the chance, I’d have left too.” Her hand waved dismissively in the air. “We’ve been friends for as long as I can remember, but we’ve never even entertained the idea of marrying one another. I certainly haven’t.”

Mary nodded in quiet agreement, adding softly, “Judging by the way he left, I’d say the prince feels the same.”

You frowned, the pieces of the story not entirely fitting. “Why bring this to you, though? Isn’t this a matter for your parents to discuss?”

Lily sat up slightly, her expression equal parts incredulous and irate. “You’d think so!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air. “But apparently, I’m of age to make my own decisions. Not that they’re asking for a wedding tomorrow,” she continued with a bitter grumble. “They just want me to consider the proposal. As if that somehow makes it less ridiculous.”

You sighed and crossed the room, lighting the gas lamp with a practiced hand. The flame flickered to life, its soft glow casting shadows across Lily’s face, now set in a grimace. Her next words came out in a quiet grumble. “They want me to consider Regulus.”

You froze for a beat, the name hanging in the air. “Duke Black’s son?” you asked, your voice cautious.

Lily hummed in confirmation, her tone heavy with irritation. Mary’s silent nod only solidified the weight of the situation.

The night stretched on, the tension easing only when Marlene joined the discussion, her arrival heralded by the scent of sweet treats piled high on a tray. 

The princess’s guard placed it carefully on the bedside table, a silent gesture of comfort for the princess.

For hours, the four of you spoke in hushed tones, the conversation ebbing and flowing like tides. Beneath the low hum of voices, a plan began to take shape, fragile and tentative but enough to carry Lily through the storm. 

_____

The quiet of the room seemed heavier now that Lily, Mary, and Marlene had gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The faint echo of their laughter and conversation faded, replaced by the stillness that pressed in around you. 

The dignitaries’ insistence on binding the kingdoms through marriage weighed heavily on your mind. It seemed inevitable now, a decision looming over Lily’s future and yours by proxy. 

It made the prospect of returning to Eylillium feel like a distant dream, and as much as you’d tried to settle here the past few days, a pang of homesickness clung to you. 

The familiar faces of the palace staff, the echo of your footsteps in its marble halls, the scent of the gardens after a summer rain— you missed it all.

Shivering, you climbed into bed, pulling the covers tightly around you. The nightgown you wore was far too thin for the chill creeping into the room, and the drafty windows offered little to no reprieve. Staring at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to claim you, but it didn’t come. 

Instead, thoughts swirled ceaselessly.

You’d need warmer clothes, that much was certain. Winter’s bite was fast approaching, and your wardrobe was ill suited to the northern chill. Shopping would be necessary, though the thought of venturing into unfamiliar shops was more daunting than it should have been.

Sleep evaded you, each minute feeling like an eternity. 

_____

The hours ticked by, the moon climbing high into the sky, bathing the room in its silver glow. 

With a soft groan, you gave in, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and padding to the small table by the window. The embroidery you’d abandoned earlier waited for you, the needle still resting in place.

Relighting the lamp, its warm glow cast soft shadows over the delicate work. You picked up the silken handkerchief, tracing your fingers over the partially completed design. Lavender stems, small white lemon blossoms, and a pink amaryllis bloomed in the lower corner— a curious combination of flowers yet they felt so right together. You’d left it half finished earlier when your back had protested the hours spent hunched over.

Taking up the needle once more, you were about to continue when something moved just beyond the edge of your vision. You froze, your fingers tightening slightly around the fabric. Slowly, you turned your gaze toward the window.

In the garden below, a figure moved among the moonlit paths. Their silhouette was unmistakable, a mix of grace and restless energy.

“Sirius?” The name slipped from your lips in a whisper, barely audible in the stillness of the night.

You leaned closer to the window, watching as he paced through the garden, his movements restless, as though something weighed heavily on him. Whatever it was, it was enough to pull him from the warmth of the palace into the cool embrace of the night.

You grab the shawl you wore earlier that day, wrapping it tightly around your shoulders, and slip on the nearest pair of shoes— a horrendous choice. The forest green clashed with your nightgown but you couldn’t really be bothered to care.

 All you can focus on is the thought of Sirius below, his unease obvious even from a distance.

Before you can think better of it, your feet are carrying you out the door, down the hall, and toward the gardens. The cool stone floor bites at your feet through the thin soles of your shoes, but the sensation barely registers. A strangled feeling sits heavy in your chest, an inexplicable pull that drives you forward.

The air hits you as soon as you step outside, sharp and brisk. Your breath puffs out in visible clouds, mingling with the faint mist rolling over the garden. You don’t realize you’re running until the sound of your hurried steps echoes softly against the flagstones, your shawl fluttering loosely behind you as the palace’s warmth gives way to the garden’s crisp night chill.

“Sirius,” you call out, your voice low but urgent as you weave through the labyrinth of moonlit paths.

He doesn’t seem to hear you at first, his figure moving in aimless loops, hands buried in his pockets. When you draw closer, the tension in his shoulders becomes unmistakable, and your concern only deepens.

_____

You stood there for a long moment, watching Sirius pace under the pale glow of the moon. His lips moved as he muttered to himself, his hands gesturing faintly as though wrestling with invisible demons. The sight left you rooted in place, uncertainty holding you back. 

What could you say? 

What should you say?

The realization struck you like a quiet weight— you barely knew him. 

You’d spoken to Sirius Black only twice before. And yet, seeing him like this, troubled and pacing alone in the cold, stirred something deep within you. The thought of his suffering, of him being left to face whatever burden pressed upon him, unsettled you to your very core.

You drew a shaky breath, steeling your resolve as you adjusted your shawl, pulling it tighter around your shoulders. Your fingers fidgeted with the fabric, a nervous gesture that felt grounding against the growing whirlwind in your chest.

‘What’s the worst that could happen?’ you thought to yourself.

 He might dismiss you, or perhaps he wouldn’t want to talk. But still, the thought of leaving him alone felt impossible.

“Sirius?” you finally called, his name hesitant and soft on your lips.

His reaction was immediate. He froze mid-stride, turning sharply to face you, his silver eyes wide and bright in the moonlight. For a fleeting moment, you saw unguarded shock and something like raw panic beneath it. Then, like a door slamming shut, he masked it with a familiar, practiced smile— a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Oh, my lady,” he greeted lightly, his tone almost too casual. “What are you doing out here at this hour?”

You ignored the deflection, stepping closer with cautious determination. His words might have carried charm, but his tense shoulders and restless gaze betrayed the truth. Gently, you rested your hand on his arm, a tentative offer of comfort. 

“Sirius,” you asked, your voice softer this time, “are you alright?”

He hesitated, his smile faltering under the weight of your concern. “I should be asking you that,” he deflected again, though his voice wavered ever so slightly.

“I’m fine,” you replied firmly, your gaze searching his. “But you’re not. You’re… panicked.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his expression caught somewhere between a laugh and a grimace. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of weariness. “I’m fine,” he repeated, though his tone lacked conviction. “Or, at least,  I will be.”

He then shoved his hands deep into his coat pockets, but even so, you noticed the faint tremor in them. Without thinking, you reached for one, tugging it gently from the warmer depths. His fingers were ice against yours, and you gasped softly. “Sirius, how long have you been out here?” you demanded, cupping his hand between your own in an effort to warm it.

He stared at your hands, his expression flickering between surprise and something unreadable. “A while,” he admitted finally, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I didn’t notice the cold.”

“How could you not?” you ask firmly, rubbing his hand between your palms. “You can’t stay out here like this. Whatever’s troubling you, it won’t help if you freeze to death.”

Sirius let out a soft, mirthless chuckle, his posture sagging slightly. “You’re relentless, aren’t you?” he murmured, though there was no malice in his tone— only a quiet, grudging gratitude that he didn’t yet know how to express.

“I may be, but I really don’t care at the moment,” you replied softly, holding his gaze. “Let’s get you inside. You’re practically frozen.”

Sirius hesitated, his silver eyes searching yours for a beat before he sighed and gave a reluctant nod. He allowed you to guide him back into the palace, his movements slower than before, his shoulders faintly slouched against the chill.

“I’m fine, really,” he murmured as you led him through the quiet halls, though his words carried no real conviction.

You glanced back at him but said nothing, your silence a quiet refusal to humor his insistence. Once in your room, you motioned toward the small round table near the window, the lamp still casting its warm glow. Sirius lowered himself into the chair, and you quickly fetched the sheets from your bed. Without a word, you wrapped them around his shoulders, tucking the fabric snugly in place.

He looked up at you, a flicker of amusement softening his features as the makeshift cocoon left him almost immobile. “You didn’t have to go to such lengths,” he teased, his voice low, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“That’s debatable,” you replied, straightening with a nod. “You need to warm up.”

He chuckled lightly, though his eyes remained shadowed, the humor not quite reaching them. “You’re far too kind, my lady. Though I’d argue it’s you who needs tending to. You’re shivering.”

“It’s nothing,” you dismissed with a wave of your hand, unwilling to shift the focus from him. “You’ve been out there far longer than I have.”

For a moment, you considered offering him something warm to drink, but you realized with a pang of frustration that you still didn’t know where the kitchens were. A note for tomorrow, you thought, making a mental reminder to ask Molly. 

Instead, you leaned against the edge of your bed, watching as Sirius shifted under the weight of the linens. His shoulders had eased, but tension lingered in the set of his jaw.

“I might be overstepping,” you began hesitantly, your voice soft, “but I can find Remus— or His Highness, if you’d prefer.”

Sirius shook his head quickly, a sharp movement that made the loose strands of his hair fall forward. “They already know.”

The statement gave you pause. “And they just let you…?” You gestured vaguely toward the direction of the gardens, disbelief creeping into your voice.

“I told them I was going to my room,” he admitted quietly, his gaze dropping to his hands.

You exhaled softly, sitting down fully on the bed. “For what it’s worth, I’m here if you need to talk,” you offered. “I know we don’t know each other well, but…” You trailed off, searching for the right words, but found none.

He looked up, and for a moment, the vulnerability in his expression took your breath away. The light from the lamp reflected faintly in his eyes, giving them a silvery glow that seemed almost ethereal. You couldn’t help but think how utterly unfair it was for someone to look as he did, even now, burdened by whatever weighed on his mind.

Sirius inhaled deeply, leaning back against the chair. “You’ve probably already heard about Regulus,” he said at last, his voice barely above a murmur.

Your eyes widened slightly as realization struck. “I heard this evening,” you admitted. “But… it’s not decided yet, is it?”

Sirius nodded, his hair brushing against his cheeks. “Right, but I know my family… I know my mother.” His voice grew quieter, tinged with bitterness. “She’ll push for the marriage, no matter what anyone else says.”

The weight in his words made your heart ache. You stepped closer, your hand instinctively finding his back, and you rubbed slow, comforting circles over his shoulder blades. The tension beneath your palm was palpable.

“I could speak with Her Highness,” you offered gently. “She doesn’t seem particularly keen on marriage either. She seemed just as blindsided by the idea as you.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, a faint nod accompanying the sound. “You’re right,” he said after a moment, though his voice carried a strain of lingering doubt. “I shouldn’t let it get to me. Sorry—”

“You don’t need to apologize,” you interrupted, squeezing his shoulder lightly. “You’re allowed to feel what you feel.”

You crouched slightly to take his hands in yours, testing their warmth. His fingers were no longer icy, but they trembled against your palms. “You’re shaking,” you murmured, brushing your thumbs over his knuckles.

Sirius hesitated, his gaze fixed somewhere over your shoulder. “They always do when I’m nervous,” he admitted finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your chest tightened further at the admission. “I’m so sorry, Sirius. We’ll figure this out, I promise. If Her Highness—”

He let out a soft laugh, cutting you off mid-sentence. His gray eyes darted up to meet yours, shimmering with a fleeting light of amusement. “I’m not nervous about that right now.”

You blinked in surprise, your confusion evident. “Then what—?”

A charmingly lopsided grin spread across his face, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes but was nonetheless disarming. “Are you not the least bit nervous, my lady? Being alone with a man in your chambers at this hour?” His tone was teasing, but the faint blush dusting his cheeks betrayed him.

The realization hit you like a bolt of lightning, and your face warmed. You stepped back quickly, pulling your shawl tightly around you.

“OH MY GOODNESS!” you gasped, clapping a hand over your mouth as though that might contain your embarrassment.

It didn’t.

Sirius chuckled, his laugh low and melodic. “You have a way of making the most unexpected moments entertaining,” he said, his voice light with amusement.

“This is beyond embarrassing,” you mumbled from behind your hand, avoiding his gaze.

“I’ll admit, it’s refreshing,” he teased gently, the pink still faintly dusting his cheeks. “Most would be too stunned to react so… dramatically.”

You let out a groan, burying your face in your hands. “I’m never going to live this down.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, leaning back with a sly grin. “I think it might just make me fonder of you.”

“Oh, don’t say that,” you murmured, turning away as the warmth in your cheeks betrayed you once more.

Sirius stood, the cocoon of linen slipping from his shoulders and pooling on the chair. He crossed the room with quiet steps until he was behind you, his hands resting on your shoulders with a gentle, almost hesitant weight, as if afraid to overstep.

“Why not?” he asked softly, his voice low and steady, brushing against the quiet of the night.

You glanced over your shoulder, meeting his gaze, bashful but searching. “I don’t think his Highness would— ”

He offered a small, reassuring smile, one that softened the sharpness of his features. “He would agree with me,” Sirius replied, his words laced with a sincerity that made your chest tighten.

“What— ” Your words faltered. “What do you mean?” The air between you seemed to thrum with something unspoken, and you found yourself holding your breath.

Sirius quirked a brow, amusement flickering briefly in his stormy eyes. “I meant what I said. James would agree with me.” His smile lingered, warm and genuine, as if begging you to believe him.

Confusion creased your brow. “But—”

Before you could form a proper protest, Sirius chuckled, the sound low and rich, and lifted a hand to your face. His slender fingers trembled slightly as his thumb brushed against the worry between your brows, smoothing it away with three deliberate strokes before cupping your cheek.

“We’re all fond of you,” he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of a truth you hadn’t expected. His thumb grazed the high point of your cheekbone, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. “James and Remus too.”

Your lips parted, but no words came. You looked up at him, helpless in the face of his sincerity.

Leaning in Sirius pressed a featherlight kiss to your forehead, just above where his thumb had worked to erase your doubts. His lips lingered there, a gentle promise wrapped in silence. 

“Come meet us tomorrow?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “James has tutoring at ten in the library. Join us around noon?”

“I wouldn’t want to impose—”

He laughed, this time with more ease, more warmth. “You could never impose. I promise you that.”

He stepped back, his hand slipping from your face only to catch yours, his long fingers curling around your palm. “I’ll see you then, my lady?” he asked, bowing theatrically as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles.

You glanced down, shy beneath his gaze. “If my duties permit… I suppose I could,” you replied, your voice a tad quieter than you intended.

“Perfect.” His grin widened, bright and mischievous, as he pressed another quick kiss to your hand before letting it fall to your side. “Thank you… for tonight,” he added, his tone softening.

You smiled back at him, the warmth in your chest spreading to your limbs. “You’re always welcome. Now, get back to your room safely.” you said, attempting a stern tone that didn’t quite suit you.

He chuckled, the sound light and genuine. “I’m a knight, remember? I think I can handle the walk back to my room.”

You waved him off, shaking your head. “Even knights need to be careful.”

He was still laughing as he disappeared through the doorway, leaving the room quiet once more.

Settling onto the edge of your bed, you couldn’t help but replay the evening in your mind. What might have happened had you simply stayed in bed instead of chasing after him?

It didn’t matter. 

All that mattered was that you’d been there when he needed someone.

With a contented sigh, you shifted to lie down, reaching for your blankets— only to find nothing. The linens still sat on the chair where Sirius had been wrapped in them moments before.

“Damn it,” you muttered, though the frustration in your voice was softened by the smile tugging at your lips.

tag list: @amatoanima @wolfstar4everbitches @bugworldsworld @ilovejamespottersomuch @garden-h0bbit @dearmy-diary @yejiswifex @bmyva1entine @emerald-jade1 @singmyaubade @miliokumura3 @amandinhagg

[rastronomicals]

10:03 AM EST January 3, 2024:

Iron Maiden - "Cross-Eyed Mary" From the album Best Of The B-Sides (November 4, 2002)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

This, a Jethro Tull cover of course, was originally the flipside to 'The Trooper' single, released on June 20, 1983.

File under: NWOBHM

--

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

Jethro Tull – Cross-Eyed Mary

[bigassmoonchild]

Lost

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: It's not the first time you've plummeted into another timeline. It is the first time in years that you've met a Deadpool still doing the anti-hero (vigilante?) thing. And unfortunately for you, you're stuck with him.

Content Tags: DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE SPOILERS! I'm being so serious, this entire series is going to be stock-full of spoilers for that movie. Some mentions of blood, lots of cursing (as expected). No use of Y/N

A/N: I promise I'm working on stuff, work just has had me super busy the last few weeks (months if I'm being more honest) and school is coming up soon for me :(. Anyways. I wanna lick Logans abs. This is hopefully gonna be a slow burn ;)

(p.s. lmk if you wanna be added to a tag list in the future)

(p.p.s. this is mostly story building with a tad bit of plot)

(p.p.p.s. i'm trying to write in a less past tense style, forgive if that changes throughout the story, im so fuckin delirious)

It’s jarring. Every single time it happens is so jarring. It’s almost like getting whiplashed with how hard you are pulled backwards and then your stomach drops; it feels as though you’re falling. The same sensation you get right before you fall asleep, like your body can’t tell if you’re still alive.  

You’ve never been thrown so forcefully out of it. Usually you land, stumbling on your feet. This time, though, you’re thrown onto your back. Your skull cracks against the pavement underneath you and it feels like all the air has been forced out of your body.  

“Fuuuuck,” it feels pushed out of your body, your chest heaving in short gasps. Rolling onto your side, all you can see in front of you is the street. Whatever Earth you’ve landed on, it doesn’t seem like it’s good.  

There’s blood splattered everywhere, cars and buses are on their sides or flipped over. Glass is scattered on the streets. Maybe you just arrived right after the battle of New York, maybe this world has been abandoned.  

You struggle to your feet, stumbling and catching yourself before standing fully upright. You can feel the warmth of some blood on your back before the skin reconnects, leaving behind the burn of cement rash.  

Behind you, there’s panting. It’s heavy and sounds almost wet. Turning, you look at two men who were behind you. 

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,”  

... 

You tried walking away. Removing yourself from the situation like the adult you were, but no. It wasn’t working. You never got more than a few feet away from the two before being teleported back within their range.  

The two men, Deadpool and the poor Wolverine stuck with him, just watched for some time. Deadpool was oddly quiet through most of it, although you can almost hear the monologue in his thoughts, his head following as you walked in different directions before snapping to where you appeared. Dogpool, the ugly thing, sat in the arms of its alternate person just panting heavily. It never stopped panting.  

You huff angrily, throwing your back against the wall right next to Wade. Crossing your arms, you look down at Mary Puppins sitting in his arms. She went cross eyed while looking up at you, staring blankly at the wall next to you and yourself.  

“Who shit in your biscuit this morning?” Wade asks you, head tilting slightly. You have to brace yourself and breathe deeply to make sure you don’t roll your eyes. You never realized how thankful you were that your home Earths Deadpool ended up in the void before you even knew what abilities you had.  

Glancing down at him with just your eyes, you find that he still hasn’t looked away. “Whoever the hell sent me here, that’s who,” you respond. There’s pain in your voice, you can hear up, but also the utter annoyance that most Deadpool's just bring. “Didn’t know the Wolverine on this world was still alive,” you nod your head towards Logan like you’re gesturing to him.  

It’s quiet. You’ve somehow silenced Wade Wilson, the merc with a mouth. You watch his chest expand in a deep inhale and it caves back in as he exhales deeply.  

“He isn’t,” and your brows furrow. Other than the TVA, you don’t know any other casual dimension jumper. Even they were a stretch, you know, they didn’t deserve to be able to do that.  Somehow, they were able to master it. You think he can see the confusion on your face as your eyes flit back and forth between them. Logan’s still eating whatever it is he had in his hand. “The TVA,” he takes a breath, and you have to interrupt. 

“Why did they bring him here?” You shake your head, brows furrowing further.  

Wade shifts his head side to side. “They didn’t bring him here, sunshine,” his voice perks up. “I did,” and he has the widest smile on his face that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.  

“I don’t,” you pause and rub your face, looking down at the ground. “I don’t even wanna know why or how,”  

“’Cause I'm Marvel Jesus,” is his quick quip back. He stands suddenly, his back popping and cracking as he stretches himself. “Alrighty, Peanut, let’s get going home,” he says to Logan (maybe it was to Mary Puppins, you’ve got no idea), and there’s a little pep in his step. “C’mon puppy!” Wade calls and you get yanked again and appear just a few feet ahead of him.  

With a roll of his eyes, Logan stands and tosses his food off to the side. “I’m going to go figure things out on my own,” he says. Turning away, you watch as Logan walks off from the two of you and you hope to whatever being is out there that you get pulled along with him, but he isn’t able to make it more than a few steps before Wade starts talking again. 

“Oh no you don’t! I’ve waited far too long for this meetup!” Wade calls out, and you see Logan stop in his tracks. His shoulders slump, almost like he’s struggling with a decision he’s about to make. “Blind Al isn’t all she’s cocained up to be, we need a third in our little house of horrors,” he snickers a little. 

You’re really hoping it doesn’t last forever, but when you finally make the trek to Wades apartment that feeling almost vanishes (almost). It’s homey, although the apartment itself is small and cramped with two people already there. You’ve met a few Als before, but only a small number of them weren’t blind. 

It was only in passing though. You could recognize that woman anywhere. Her eyes were always a striking feature, and the few who weren’t blind always carried this sort of knowledge within them as they followed you when you walked by them.  

This Al seemed sweet, although listening to Wade tell you about her was a little odd. You couldn’t fully tell if he was joking about her being able to see cocaine, but there’s been worse you’ve interacted with.  

Speaking of worse, Logan would not let you out of his sight at all thus far. You could feel his eyes boring down on your back the entire walk to the apartment, and even when you got inside and completely ignored everything Wade was saying (a lot of it was just telling you and Logan about the apartment and what to not touch, oddly enough) he would not let you leave his sight.  

Even just checking out what type of T.V this world had to offer left you with his stare. You begin to browse their small selection of DVD’s when you finally speak up. 

“Might wanna take a picture,” it was quiet, but you knew he could hear you. “It’ll last you longer,” but there was no response. Usually, it was the Bucky Barnes of the Earth that had the staring problem, it had never been the Wolverines.  

They always made their problems with you obvious. They’d never pulled this type of behavior, and it was strange. For the first time in years, you had someone act strange and you couldn’t figure out how to go about confronting it.  

“Who’re you?” Logan finally spoke up, quieting Wade in the middle of his rant.  

You swallow thickly. “I’m not the person you think I am,” and you cringe internally. It always sounded dumb when you said it, but you never knew what else to say. Who knows if there’s another you in this world, or maybe even Logans. “Whoever I am, or was, to you? That’s not who I am,” but you’d never met another one of you.  

There’s the thud of glass on wood, it's thick and there’s no way that it isn’t a beer bottle.  “I’ve never met you in my life. Have you?” Assuming he was talking to Wade, you turn as best as you can while still crouched in front of the TV to look at him.  

He’s shrugging, opening his mouth for a response before Logan beats him to it. “What the hell is it that you can do, anyways? Are you a mutant? Or just another fucked up creation by a government?” You bark a laugh.  

“I’m just one of God’s fucked up mistakes, that’s what,” and you look down with a sigh, shaking your head. “I really don’t know. My world didn’t have mutants, not like others do. It was always some botched work done by doctors in basements,” Wade looks appalled.  

His eyes find some spot on the wall, and he smiles at it. “It’s like looking into a mirror. Although a lot less ballsackey and not as interesting,” you have to shake your head.  

Logan clears his throat. “What do you mean, your world didn’t have mutants,” you smile at him.  

“My timeline doesn’t exist anymore,”  

[323cutie]

6:52 pm | song mingi

fluff, suggestive. 550 words.

a/n anyone else feel betrayed by the marie claire photoshoot... Cover them up slut.

“You’re sick,” you mumble the second Mingi’s in your sights. He’s halfway through taking off his shoes at the front door and you’re livid, stomping over to him with your arms crossed over your chest. He stares at you, wide-eyed, slowly bending over to take off his shoe and then stand by your front door awkwardly, hands clasped in front of him.

He asks, “what?”

“Sick!” You answer, pointing a finger at him. He flinches like you do physical damage. “Do you know how many people are out there looking at you?”

Mingi sighs, but follows you further into your apartment, standing by the counter as you enter your kitchen to finish making dinner. “Baby,” he starts, and you huff. “I’m gonna need you to elaborate.”

You check the stew bubbling on the stove, give it a few short stirs before popping a lid on and turning the heat down so it simmers. “First it was your stupid, slutty little waist,” you say, cleaning up the scraps of onion and shavings of carrots, shoving them into your trash can and ignoring Mingi’s semi-scandalized look. You remember that photoshoot clearly, practically carved into the inside of your skull – the all denim fit, the delicious curve of his silhouette, perfect tummy on display with the help of his top. “Now it’s your stupid, slutty collarbones –”

Mingi laughs and you glare, and he covers his mouth. “Thin ice, Song Mingi,” you threaten, watching as he steps closer to you. “Pull something like this again and who knows what’ll happen.”

“Like what?” He asks with a small smirk, hands reaching for your own in between you. “You’ll start acting like a brat again? Get all jealous?”

You open your mouth to say something but are evidently speechless, feeling a hot rush of something kin to embarrassment creep up your neck and ears. No way to defend yourself, you huff, because, well. Yeah, probably. Not much else you can do when your boyfriend happens to be the hottest man in the world. You turn your head away from him like it might help.

Mingi hums and easily presses a kiss to your cheek, one of his hands leaving yours and cradling the other side of your face. “Don’t worry, baby,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to your skin again, then down to the edge of your jaw, your chin. “My stupid, slutty body is all yours.”

It makes you snort out a laugh, turning your head back to face him again. He’s fond, you can tell, enraptured by your semi-serious display of possession. His equally semi-serious reassurance comes through loud and clear. “I come home to you every night, and that’s not changing anytime soon.”

“Hmm,” you start, pretending to think hard. Mingi's smile grows each second that passes. “Maybe I can forgive you this time, then.”

Mingi giggles with you and kisses you once, twice, three times on the lips before you’re laughing too hard to really press your lips to his. You push him away with the excuse of finishing dinner but he stays close, arms wrapped around your waist from behind as you tend to the stew on the stove.

(Maybe later you’ll convince him to make it up to you. You think seeing him on his knees in person is much more deserving of your forgiveness than a photo.)

[myimaginaryradio]

Cross-Eyed Mary - Jethro Tull