#finally allowing these to see the light of day

[celiababy]

Ain't Right part 2

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: It's the holiday season and Joel is a Scrooge.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (56/20), swearing, p in v, unprotected sex, size kink, oral sex (m!receiving), SQUIRT, creampie, threats of violence, alcohol

Celia's note: uhm hello??? what the flip thank y'all sm for all the love on my first post!! I got so many requests to make a part 2 so dinner's ready y'all dig in!!!!

Read the first part! > part 1

Jackson looked so pretty this time of year. The Christmas lights, the snowmen, the comfy sweaters and chocolate chip cookies; you loved it all.

Especially gift-giving.

To you, there was really nothing better than seeing someone's face light up when they open a present.

This year, there was someone special you planned to go all out for.

It had been 3 days since Joel Miller fucked you in his house, on his bed.

You hadn't stopped replaying the moment in your mind, especially the part when he finished all over your stomach.

However, it just so happens that after those amazing thirty minutes, Joel was called away by Tommy.

He had to leave and do something that you weren't allowed to know about. Undoubtedly some dangerous mission that pained you to think about.

So your victory was short-lived.

But, like the gentleman he was, he walked you home and made sure you were okay before he left. You wanted to kiss him goodbye, but felt too nervous to do so.

You don't know why—he literally had his cock in you a few moments prior.

Yet you couldn't, and just had to watch him walk away.

Now, you haven't seen him in three days and were starting to get serious withdrawals. Whatever he was up to couldn't have come at a worse time.

You finally had the taste of his perfection, now he was gone, leaving you to deal with your desire alone.

You tried to preoccupy yourself with helping set up all the Christmas decorations around town as well as baking an absurd amount of treats.

You also managed to get him a little gift in the meantime, stuffing it in the cutest box with the prettiest wrapping paper.

God, you hoped he'd come back soon.

And luckily, he did!

You had heard from Maria that everyone had returned from their trip—safe and sound.

She had also told you that she was throwing a little Christmas get-together at her and Tommy's house to celebrate.

She was careful to mention that Joel would be in attendance.

So, that night, you whipped up your signature cinnamon apple recipe and put on your cutest outfit.

You topped it with some fuzzy reindeer antlers because you were in a very festive mood.

As you walked alone to Maria and Tommy's, you were freezing your ass off in your skirt and sweater. You wore tights with your skirt in hopes that it would help with the cold, but who were you kidding?

You didn't care, though. You just cared if Joel thought you looked pretty or not.

You pranced up the steps of their porch, letting yourself into the house and getting immediately bombarded by the hoard of people inside.

Maria made it seem like it was going to be a small thing, but the entire Jackson population seemed to be in her living room.

Thankfully, Tommy catches you come in and walks up to greet you. "Hey there stranger," He grins, looking down at the dish in your hands. "What you got there?"

"Brought desert," You chirp, handing it to him with a proud smile.

"Well well," He muses as he takes the glass container from you, looking it over with surprise. "Didn't think you could tie your own shoes, let alone bake anything."

You roll your eyes before scoffing. "You're just mad because I can tie my shoes and bake something before you can conjure a coherent thought."

Tommy fakes a wince before chuckling. "Alright, touché kid. We're gonna be playing charades in a little bit so stick around, alright?"

You nod, having absolutely no intention of 'sticking around' for charades. Tommy wanders off with your apples, finally giving you a moment to survey the party.

Obviously, you were looking for one person in particular.

You squeezed through all the crowds of people, scouring what felt like every room in the house.

But no dice.

Joel was nowhere to be found and sadness washes over you like a tidal wave.

Was he doing this on purpose?

Torturing you by depriving you of his presence? This was hell.

You plant yourself by the special eggnog and down several glasses to take the edge off.

You were tipsy in no time, it really didn't take much. It was like Maria just dumped an entire bottle of vodka in the bowl and splashed some milk in it. It was disgusting, really, but it was getting its job done.

As you hunched yourself over the bowl, someone tapped you on your shoulder.

You spin around, your hopes high.

"Joel!—Oh. Hi Connor." The disappointment you feel inside displays clearly in your tone.

You're now face to face with the boy who has been unsubtly trying to sleep with you for months.

"Hey there! You look fucking great tonight." He flirts, a smug grin on his face.

You grimace because you know he thinks he's so cool, even though you'd rather die than stand here with him right now.

"Thanks." You say flatly, turning back towards the eggnog and pouring yourself another glass. For some reason, Connor takes this as an invitation to step closer, now invading your space.

You don't even bother trying to hide your disgusted expression. His cologne is attacking your nostrils, and it doesn't even smell good.

"That skirt looks amazing on you." His eyes unabashedly drag along the skin of your legs, making you shiver in disgust. He takes it too far when his hand comes up to brush your arm.

"You come here with anyone?" He coos, leaning against the food table like he was hot shit or something.

You couldn't stand this douche. Just as you were about to tell him to fuck off or something, you feel someone looming over you.

"She did." A gruff voice comes from behind you, and you immediately recognize that it could only be one person.

You whip around, your face lighting up at the sight of Joel.

His expression is settled into a natural scowl, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed at the boy in front of you both. Even though he looked scary as shit, he was so fucking hot.

You're instantly horny just at the sight of him.

Connor scoffs, looking between the two of you, but your eyes stayed glued to Joel.

"Really? Him? But he's like—an old man." Connor spits, which immediately earns a glare from you.

Just as you're about to cuss him out, Joel beats you to it.

"Walk away before this old man breaks your jaw." His voice is stern, not to be tested.

It makes your core tighten with need.

Hearing the threat that he assumes to be all too real, Connor doesn't waste time scurrying off.

You turn back towards Joel, a warm, relieved smile spreading across your face. “Hi,” You whisper, wanting to hug him so bad but holding yourself back because he wasn’t a big fan of PDA. “M'so glad you're back." You do, however, step closer into his personal bubble.

His face softens when he finally looks down at you, and you can almost swear you see his lips curling up into a smile.

"Yeah, me too, kid." He husks out, looking between you and the bowl of half-empty eggnog. "Enjoyin' yourself?" He asks with somewhat of a disappointed look on his face, clocking that you were a little tipsy.

"Now I am." You answer truthfully, beaming up at him. "Have you been here the whole time? I was looking for you earlier but I couldn't find you."

Joel shifted on his feet, sliding his hands in his pockets. "Just got here. Tommy was talkin' my ear off at the door." He explained, an exasperated look on his face.

You laughed and nodded, knowing you both shared that experience.

"Are you having a good time, though?" You ask, actually curious because he seemed like he would rather be anywhere else right now.

He shrugs, brushing a hand through his short hair. "This Christmas holiday crap is givin' me a fuckin' aneurysm." He huffs out with complete honestly, scratching the back of his neck.

"What? Really? Why?" The shock and bewilderment in your voice isn't lost on Joel.

He sighs out, knowing you're about to explain the magical spirit of the season or whatever.

"The blizzards, people spazzin' out over gifts, all 'cause some fat guy is coming down chimneys—s'all just ridiculous."

You want to giggle at how actually annoyed he sounded, but you hold it down.

Grouchy old man.

"I'd let you come down my chimney," you flirt, but then correct yourself. "I have let you come down my—"

Joel shoots you a glare, daring you to finish your sentence.

You know when to cut your losses, so you don't.

"Well, speaking of gifts," You start, rummaging in your bag to pull out your present for him. You hold it up, the pink wrapping paper making him cock an eyebrow. "Merry Christmas, Scrooge."

Joel feels an unfamiliar feeling swimming around in his stomach at the sight.

He slowly takes the box from you, looking at it like it was a puzzle.

He really wasn't expecting anything from you. But he supposed people who have had the other persons genitals inside them should probably give them something for Christmas.

He finds himself very pleasantly surprised.

After a moment, he finds something to say.

"Couldn't find some manlier wrapping paper?" He coughs, his voice low but it's obvious he's joking with you.

You roll your eyes and scoff. "Just open it!"

Joel somewhat grins at your impatience but finally starts to open the box.

That grin drops off his face after he sees the contents, an immediate bittersweet feeling swelling in his chest.

You're watching his face so intently, so scared that he didn't like it based on his reaction.

Joel pulls out the watch from the box, clutching it tightly. He's not saying anything, so you hear yourself start to ramble.

"Do you like it? I just saw that the watch you wear is broken so I figured I'd get you a new one. If you don't like it I can take it back."

You're starting to crumble underneath the weight of his silence, anxiety bubbling in your gut. Just as you're about to ask him if he's okay, Joel finally looks back at you.

"S'real great. Thank you." His tone is genuine, you can tell he's telling the truth. But why does he look so pained?

"Of course." Your murmur, your eyes searching his. After a moment of silence, you clear your throat. "There's one more thing, actually."

Joel's shoulder slump. "You got me another present?" He asked tiredly, looking at you with disbelief.

A guilty smile paints your face before you gesture for Joel to follow you. "It's upstairs. C'mon."

He doesn't know how much more his heart could handle.

Reluctantly, he follows you up the stairs, wondering why you had a gift waiting for him in Tommy's guest bedroom.

You open the door and close it behind you both, purposefully not turning the lights on.

Joel walks into the center of the room, standing aimlessly and confused as to why you hadn’t flipped the light switch yet.

But then he hears the rustling of clothes and when you eventually turn the lights on, you're wearing nothing but a bra and panties.

His cock immediately gets hard.

"What do ya think you're doin'?" He whisper yells, trying to keep his eyes on your face but that proves to be impossible because your tits looked so good in lace.

"What? You don't like it? I bought it for you." You give him a 360 and he has to brace himself against the bed.

Fuck you looked good.

He sits down on the mattress, dragging a hand down his jaw in thought.

He's debating if he's really about to fuck you in his brother's house.

Why were you always making him go against his morals?

A few seconds of silence pass between the two of you before Joel snaps his eyes back to your figure.

"C'mere."

Got 'em.

You squeal excitedly before running over, slotting yourself between his legs and placing your hands on his shoulders.

In turn, his large hands come out to hold your hips, his gaze zeroing in on your perfect-looking cleavage that he was now eye-level with.

Just as he was about to slide his hands up to grope your breasts, you sink down to the floor.

Joel's puzzled as he watches you get on your knees, looking up at him with those mischievous eyes. He truly has no clue what you're up to, that is, until you bring your lips to the bulge in his jeans.

You place the softest kiss on his clothed hard-on, earning a groan from him.

Now he knows what you're trying to do.

He juts his hand out, holding you firm by your shoulder.

"You ain't gotta do that, sweetheart." Joel says softly, probably the softest you've ever heard him say anything.

Your body erupts in goosebumps when you hear the endearing pet name slip so effortlessly from his lips.

"I want to—been wanting to since, like, forever." You murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his inner thigh.

Joel wasn't sure what to think right now.

His past romantic experiences taught him that blowjobs were a hassle for women—something that they did only if they felt they had to.

But here you were, looking up at him with those wide eyes and wanting nothing more than his dick in your mouth.

You surprise him everyday.

His dick has literally never been harder, especially when you finally start unzipping his pants to let it spring free.

You gaze up at him again, waiting for his green light.

Joel had one hand white-knuckling the edge of the bed, while the other gently caressed the side of your head.

He offers a short nod of approval, already trying not to come just by the sight of his cock so close to your face.

You waste absolutely no time in grabbing the base of his dick with both hands, gingerly licking at his tip to warm him up.

Joel throws his head back, groaning at the feeling.

You tilt it up so you can drag your tongue all the way up his shaft, then bring your mouth down on his tip.

"Fuck," Joel curses, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment before snapping back open, not being able to look away from you.

Tears are falling from your eyes the farther you go down on him, the sensation of his head poking the back of your throat was making you dizzy.

But you don't stop. You're eager to please.

Your hands pump at the length you can't reach, while your warm mouth and tongue swirl around him.

You're too good at this, and Joel knows he's not gonna last long.

He can't help it when his hand in your hair turns into a fist, tightly gripping the strands like he was afraid you might go somewhere.

You moan when he accidentally pulls your hair forwards, forcing you deep on his cock. You bet he didn't even realize what he just did, based on the way his chest was heaving and his face looked so lost in pleasure.

You gag and more tears spill from your eyes, but you don't even dream about lifting off. If Joel was getting off on this, you were going to do more of it.

You moan, still keeping his cock in your mouth as you try to go even deeper down on it.

"Oh fuck—" Joel suddenly yanks your mouth off his cock, breathing heavily as he stares down at you.

You cough and sputter at the loss, looking up at him with that same fucked out expression you had last time.

"Why?" You manage to whine, wondering why he stopped you before he came.

Joel doesn't answer—instead he picks you up by your armpits and places you on the bed.

The quick change almost gives you whiplash, but Joel's surprisingly steady and husky voice guides you.

"On your stomach, pretty girl." He mutters as he taps your leg in a gesturing manner.

...Was he trying to kill you with that bedroom voice of his?

A whimper crawls its way out of your throat, your body having an audible reaction to his sweet words.

You flip over onto your stomach, instantly arching your back for him.

Being the impatient man he was, he rips your panties and throws them to the side in a lust-driven blur.

You literally didn't even care. Sure, they were new, but you'd just find another pair. The only two thoughts in your mind right now was Joel and Joel's dick.

Something warm and soft prods at your entrance before slipping to wedge between your folds, gathering up your slick.

You try to push back on it, but Joel holds you still, making you lose the rest of the small amount of composure you had left.

"Joelpleasefuckme," You sob, your cunt weeping for his cock. "need you so bad it hurts,"

You reach back, your hand finding his that was holding your hip and squeezing it.

Joel didn't want to admit to himself how much he loved the neediness in your voice, your obvious desperation made him harder.

"M'gettin' there, don't gotta beg me baby." He mutters, his hand that you grabbed intertwining with your fingers. His other hand was rubbing circles in the skin around your hips.

You feel that same sensation of his tip, but then Joel also brings his chest down to engulf your back.

You're already trembling, but when he begins to pepper kisses down the nape of your neck and back, all while slowly sheathing himself inside your pussy...

You effectively lose your mind.

"OhFUCKJoelloveitsomuch," You blabber, not having enough strength to hold yourself up anymore so your head drops into a pillow, muffling your moans.

Effortlessly, he pulls you back up so that your back is flush with his chest, his one arm wrapped around your stomach to keep you secure.

You rest the back of your head on his shoulder as she starts rocking into you, letting your body go limp because you know he's got you.

"Can you take it or do I need'a stop?" He asks, his tone making you dizzier.

You frantically nod, turning your head to the side to look at him. "I can take it, promise I can," you muster out between moans. "please don't stop—want your cock in me forever-"

Joel chuckles.

God, he really never stood a chance against you.

"I don't know about forever sweet thing, but I'll see what I can do for tonight, yeah?"

You giggle airily, like you weren't all there, nodding your head in acknowledgement. Your eyes are closed for a second but you feel his lips on yours, hungrily taking whatever they wanted.

You passionately return his kiss, mewling into it because his lips paired with the slow thrust of his dick was enough to drive you crazy.

The stretch of his cock is as close to heaven as you're ever gonna get.

His speed picks up which means your moans get louder, and Joel has no choice put to bring his other hand up and cover your mouth.

There's still a party going on downstairs, after all.

"Gotta be quieter baby," he pants, even though he's not slowing down his speed at all.

You whine into his hand, surprisingly loving the feeling of it because it's like he's swallowing you whole.

You feel that tight coil in your stomach slowly start to come undone, and you know you won't last long now. You try to tell Joel, but his hand is muffling your noises.

All the sudden, he speaks in your ear—his voice low and raspy. "Don't want you doin' this with anyone else, hear me?"

...Well.

You weren't expecting that.

His words probably made you soak the sheets because of how wet you became.

He sounded so stern when he said it too, making your heart flutter even more.

You nod, tears pouring from your eyes. He lets his hand off your mouth for a moment and you immediately jump at the opportunity to speak.

"Only want you, only ever wanted you, Joel—m'all yours, always been yours," You mewl after gasping for air, your body jolting with each of his deep thrusts.

"Fuck," Joel swears, quickly but carefully putting you down only to flip you over onto your back. Now in missionary, he buries himself all the way inside you again before dropping down so your faces are centimeters apart. "All mine, huh?" Joel reiterates, and you can't tell if he's mocking you or maybe asking for clarification.

Probably the ladder.

You agree nonetheless, a string of yes's spilling from your mouth.

"Yeah, just for me." He pants, slamming into you with more vigor than before. Your cunt is constricting around him like a vice, he's—not planning to last much longer either.

"M'gonna cum," you whine, wrapping your arms around his shoulders for support.

When Joel hears this, he drops a hand down to rub at your clit, making you come undone altogether.

"Ohfuckohfuckohfuck waitwait Joel-" You feel something..unique boiling, but then Joel's expert fingers release the flood gates.

You scream as you squirt all over his cock, your entire body writhing with the overstimulating pleasure.

Your juices soak him. When he see's this, he comes immediately.

He groans as he finishes inside you, unloading into your snug cunt. The feeling is incomparable for the both of you.

Once the haze of perfect pleasure dissipates, Joel realizes what he's just done.

"Shit," he grits, pulling out and watching his seed drip from your hole. "Fuck."

You manage to sit up on your elbows, looking up at him with teary eyes. "Don't worry," Your voice is quiet and cracked—you just had the squirt fucked out of you, after all. "I've been on the pill since we had sex the first time."

Joel looks down at you, stupefied.

Eventually, he feels his heart start beating again and huffs out a sigh of relief. "Thank christ." He leans back against the headboard, raking a hand through his hair and thinking about how that was a fucking close one.

You're lying next to him, still trying to catch your breath. "That felt so good," You manage to murmur, your body still shivering from the after shocks.

After you catch your breath, you turn your head to look up at him. "M'serious about what I said, about bein' yours."

He looks at you and your serious face for a moment, then brings his hand down to gently ruffle the top of your head.

"Yeah, I know you are." His texan drawl prominent.

"I'd let you brand me with a fire poker if thats what you wanted." You say flatly, no joking tone in your voice whatsoever.

Joel is taken back by the sudden jump in intensity, assessing you to make sure you were being for real.

You were, and when he realizes this, he shakes his head. "You've lost your damn mind." He grunts, dragging a hand down his face.

You shrug.

"I think a ring would do the trick." Joel mutters, not meaning for it to have some kind of underlying message or anything. But you're quick to jump to conclusions.

"A ring?" You squeal, moving to lay on his chest which earns a huff from him. "Didn't know we were already goin' steady like that, Miller!" You tease, the giddiest smile on your face.

"I didn't mean—quit. You know what I was sayin'." Joel grunts, looking at you with an unamused expression.

You don't quit though.

"My ring finger is a size 6, would love 2 carats but if you can swing for 3 that would be perfect—also, I hate silver bands, it has to be gold—but make sure it's not that super yellow fake gold, I like more rustic looks, I mean, if that wasn't obvious-" You cast him a glance, alluding to the fact that he was rustic looking.

Joel rolls his eyes before gently nudging you off him, getting off the bed and walking over to your clothes that you discarded a long time ago.

You continue rambling from your position on the sheets, staring up at the ceiling as you recited, in extreme detail, how you loved oval shaped diamonds the most.

He walks back over and manhandles you to sit up. "Lift up your arms." He mutters, putting your sweater back on you.

"Hm, gettin' some serious deja vu right now." You murmur, smiling up at him.

"Yeah, yeah, hush." He grumbles before sliding your tights and skirt back on as well.

The act is so kind and heartwarming. You mumble a thank you before standing up, almost falling back down because your legs were still a bit weak.

Joel made a motion like he would've caught you, reaching his arms out. "Careful." He warns, planting a hand on your lower back for stability. You giggle and nod, regaining your ability to walk slowly but surely.

You guys tried to discretely walk back down the stairs, but with Joel's hand on your back and your happy expression--it wasn't hard for people to guess what happened.

***

A couple days had passed since Tommy and Maria's party.

You were finishing up some hand-made Christmas cards on your desk when you heard a knock at your door.

"Coming!" You shout, leisurely making your way to the front door.

When you open it, no one's there. You look around, only seeing a familiar male figure walking away in the distance. When you step outside to shout after him, you feel yourself kick something.

Upon looking down, a small velvet box lays at your feet.

You pick it up carefully, opening it to reveal a gold ring placed so delicately inside. The small note inside reads:

Merry Christmas. -Scrooge

[eupheme]

— i’ll be there

[part iv of sugar, sugar] | [masterlist]

wolverine/logan howlett x neighbor!f!reader

rated e - 4.5k

tags: baker!neighbor!reader, logan pov, soft smut & fluff, oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, manual restraints PiV, creampie, light angst, references to anxiety, guilt, memories of canon-typical violence/ death, logan handling his feelings in his own way

a/n: after finishing part iii, there were two ideas in the back of my mind (this, and then fixing [redacted]) so I am back with a little more 💕

Sometimes, it feels as if he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Breath held - bracing for a blow that hasn’t yet come, each time the cracks lengthen in his walls. Letting sunlight seeping through.

So sure it’s waiting on the horizon for him, as it always had done. Has been, since that first night you spent together, all those weeks ago.

Finally allowing himself to exhale - for today, at least - in the darkened room.

It’s late when he twists the handle of the apartment door, easing it open. A habit now, how the keys drop into the ceramic mug on the table just inside, clinking against loose change.

His shadow stretching long across the wooden floor, cast by the light you left on for him in the kitchen. Fingers tug at worn laces, loosening boots that are left next to yours.

Funny how he’s able to navigate this space now, without thought. The old fleece from Wade’s closet slung across the back of an armchair. His feet taking him to the edge of the couch, fingers idly brushing over the stitching of the folded quilt left out for him.

One heartbeat passing, and then another.

He moves on.

The bedroom door creaks on its hinges, as he nudges it open wider.

Light pouring in, letting him see where you curl on your side. The space next to you open - as if waiting for him.

As if you knew he’d be coming.

All he’s wanted to do since Wade turned the car around was get back to right here.

Something loosening in his chest. Fingers working at the buttons of his flannel, then dropping to the heavy buckle at his waist. Stripped down, when he draws back the covers, and slides next to you.

You murmur his name, curl into him. Can’t pretend there isn’t a tugging behind his ribs at the sound.

His fingers drift across skin, tracing the strap of your nightgown. You lips curve up, eyes cracking open.

“You have a good day?”

Logan pauses for longer than he should, turning the question over in his head. Chooses to ignore it, for now.

Chooses to let his head dip, to press his mouth to yours, instead. Letting his mind shut off, letting it go silent for a moment.

Focusing on this, instead.

The tug of your fingers as they slide into his hair. Pulling him close - keeping him there, the sluggish movements turning more lucid as he deepens the kiss. Pliant becoming demanding, and even after the day he’s had, he can’t help the chuckle when your hand curls around his shoulder.

Urging, once more. Fully awake now, lips pressing against his jaw as he follows your whims. Settling between your thighs, cock stiffening with the way you nip at his neck. How you roll your hips upward, until he pins you to the bed himself.

“Missed you.” It’s sighed out.

Something inside his chest thrums, his heartbeat kicking up a notch. The answer coming easily, without thought.

“Missed you too, sweetheart.”

He means it.

Had left a little piece of himself behind when he left early this morning. The echo of your goodbye kiss lingering against his lips, as he had climbed into the car with Wade. Going north.

But he doesn’t want to think about that now.

Now, he’s letting his senses take over, an old habit. Focusing on warmth of you beneath him. Eyelids fluttering shut with the sting of your teeth against his throat. A twitching smile as his hands wander - letting you try to mark him as he finds the hem, slips beneath.

Fingertips dragging over bare skin. Rucking the flimsy fabric up higher each time his hips lift. A low sigh when he finally presses against your bare skin, nudging himself against the soft juncture of your thigh.

Your scent washes over him, drowning out the layer of thoughts that have chased after him all afternoon. Vanilla and sugar and you - he’s tried to taste it before, with the wet drag of his tongue.

Sometimes you smell like him, if he’s lucky, in the early morning, still tucked into bed. Cigar smoke clinging, from where you sat with him on the fire escape. Where he’s left himself painted across your skin.

It’s familiar. It’s as comforting as the pretty noises you make. Hungry for him, fingers tracing along his ribs. Slipping down the slope of his back, trying to tug you to meet him.

Logan is used to rushing things - wants to, after the day he had - but in the night, when he knows you don't have to get up early, it feels like time stands still.

He allows his movements to slow.

The mattress dips as he inches down it. Palms finding the curves of your tits, a soft squeeze against the giving flesh before he’s finding the taut peaks in the fabric with his teeth and tongue.

The silk darkens, as you squirm. A whine is wrenched from your chest, as his mouth closes around you.

The tip of his tongue flicking across your nipple. His other hand drifting down, hiking your thigh higher around his waist.

“Let me-“ It comes from you in a rush, hands tugging at the fabric.

He won’t ruin this one. Knows you like it - instead he balls the fabric from navel to sternum in his fist. Tugs, until your tits slip free.

“Fuck, Logan.” It’s laced with appreciation.

With need, as he sucks a mark against your skin. Another on the soft swell beneath, the pinch of his teeth soothed by the drag of his tongue.

Knowing what he’ll find, when he finally moves down. The fingertips that trail down as he kisses your stomach, your hip - ghosting across your folds, coming back slick.

They slide between his lips. An amuse-bouche to the feast laid out before him - unable to resist the urge to taste you, fingers spit-slick when they return.

“‘s for me?” He rasps, and a laugh slips from you - the soft, muffled sound dragging out into a moan as he traces your opening - sinking down to the knuckle.

“Always for you.”

It loosens a breath he’s been holding all day. Coming out as a rough sigh - your thighs inching wider as he kisses your mound.

Hovering then, just shy of where you need him.

“Really did miss me, huh?”

Can’t help it. Another unconscious nudge, seeking reassurance.

Your hips lift, seeking. Hands trailing down, fingers drifting over your tits, your stomach. Down to stroke your thumb against the bristle of his beard.

“Every time you leave.”

He leans into your touch. Eyes focused on the dark glimmer of your own, as he lets your fingers tangle in his hair. Let's you guide him, a low hum as he closes that final inch.

The tip of his tongue stroking against a spot he knows well, as your moan rips through the quiet. His name following with a soft whimper, and it’s then that his eyes shut.

Focused on the way you smear across his tongue. The wet suck of his finger, sinking into molten heat. Trying to grip him already, clenching around what little he’s given you.

A second teases. Slipping inside, as he tongues at your clit. As you pant, whining - nails pricking against his scalp. Thighs pressing into his shoulders, until he’s hiking one over, and then the other.

His hips flexing, rutting himself into the mattress as you surround him. Fingers curling and stroking, until you leaking against him palm. Until the quiet room becomes a chorus, his name a sweet song on your lips.

“Logan.”

Logan, Logan.

A name stamped on a piece of metal, but he’s grateful for it now. Grateful for the way it rushes from you, as if you’ve forgotten all else.

As he winds you up - your grip tightening, but it only spurs him on. Your breath shortens, as his free arm bands across your abdomen, leaving your hips to flex uselessly against his strength.

“Fuck me.” You urge. A hand kneading the flesh of your breast, the other circling around his wrist. Pleading, with the pinch of your brows, as your fingers flex against his iron grip, “Need you, Logan. Want, ah-“

“Come for me first.” It’s close to a growl, his own fingers never stopping. Feeling how you stiffen beneath his arm, on the cusp of something he’s more than happy to give you.

“Want her nice and ready for me.”

You moan at the command. Head tilting back as your body obeys - the “yes” that’s chanted over and over, pitching higher each time.

Stringing out, and then breaking. Your back bows, as the pleasure alights within. Coming hard with rhythmic throb he can feel against his tongue, that tight pulse around fingers.

He doesn’t let up until you’re squirming away from the press of his mouth. Puffy and slick where you warm his fingers, your arousal already leaking down to the curve of your ass. Swollen with desire, and he swears he feels you clench one last time, when he slips them free.

Another kiss pressed against you, one that has you sighing. Wriggling out of the twist of your nightgown, hooking it around a finger until it pools on the floor below.

Still begging for him as he lifts himself up. Closing the space between you as he shifts forward, palms curving against your hips as he kneels between your thighs. Your eyes drunken with pleasure up close - soft and hazy, your smile coming easily.

His hips rock forward on their own in response, unable to help pressing himself against you. A sticky spot of need left behind, smeared against your skin.

Your fingers pinch against his forearms as you push yourself up to your elbows, eyes dipping down. He knows you can see what he can, as his own head tilts - the swipe of his cock against your folds.

How they part for him, when he teases you - slipping the fat head against your entrance. Knows you imagine it - you’ve told him what you think about when he’s away.

How it’s never enough. Never him. Watched you show him how you fit your fingers inside yourself, but you can never reach the places he can.

He sinks into your heat with a slow thrust. You’re heaven around him, tight and slick and familiar. Teeth clenched as you make room, until he’s buried flush inside you.

Can feel your pulse around his cock, when his eyes close. When he lets all his senses narrow down to the space you’re joined.

Could never last, if he stayed that way. Would get pulled over far too quickly with the way you clench needily around him, trying to coax him to move.

And it’s here, as you beg him for more, that he loses himself. Hands flattening against the mattress as he slips half-way out - the jolt it sends through you, when his hips snap forward.

The gasp it pushes from you, your eyes fluttering shut. A sharp pinch of nails again, but it’s welcome - a low grunt, as he drives home again.

Again, and again. Leaning into the snap of his hips. Your hand reaching, drawing him down to you - mouth tipping up to meet his.

A groan, when you taste yourself against his tongue. Letting his sweep against yours, until you’re panting against his lips. The angle deep, with the way he hovers over you.

His hands fisted in the sheets, now. Using them for leverage, the bed creaking as he ruts himself into you.

A growl slipping from his chest when your fingers start to drift. Knuckles brushing the whorls of dark hair across his chest. Following the trail that leads down, past his abdomen.

The tips ghosting against your clit, just a tease before he’s shifting - a hand curling around your wrist. Bringing it up, pinning it above your head.

“Don’t need it.” It comes out ragged, when it passes his lip.

“Just me, right?”

Logan can take care of you. Stoking the lot embers in your belly, coaxing them to a burning flame.

He needs this.

Needs to be the one to give it to you.

“Just you.” The reply comes automatically. Your other wrist offered as you give him the control he desires, lifted to press into the clutch of his grip.

It makes his own muscles tighten. A deep clench, his cock throbbing inside you. Fingers pinching as he sees the way you give yourself to him.

Face tipped up, bare and stretched out beneath him. The pretty jolt of your tits each time his hips snap forward, and it’s enough that he’s closing those last inches of space.

Fitting himself against you, as his nose buries against your neck. Your thigh hooked over his hip as you chase his mouth, until you’re sighing against his lips.

Knows you can come like this, squirming beneath him, as his hips tilt. As he strokes against the places his fingers know well, your lips parting with a cry.

“Come on, honey.” It’s murmured out. Mouthing at your jaw, the word rasped low in your ear, “One more and then I’ll give you what you want.”

His other hand drifting - elbow and knees taking the brunt of his weight. Down past your hip until his palm curves against your thigh, hiking your thigh up higher.

Opening you up further, when he bottoms out. His breath hot in your ear, panted out each time his heavy sack kisses against sticky skin.

Winding you up, higher and higher. Your body arching against his - toes curling, a heel pressing into the mattress for purchase.

“Oh fuck, keep going,” You beg, trying to meet him - unable to do anything more than take it when he has you pinned like this, “Please, I’m so close-”

“Know you are,” He answers with a rough sound - more growl than words. The flesh at your thigh denting with the press of his fingers, keeping you still so he can pound against the spot that has you seeing stars.

“‘ve got you. Come for me, sweetheart.”

The whine that leaves your lips pitches high, the rushed plea dissolving into needy sounds. Muscles stringing tight, head tipping back as your breath grows short.

His eyes fixed on your half-lidded ones, your lips parted in pleasure. Feeling the crest of your orgasm - the flex of your wrists in his hand, the grip of your thighs as they press against his hips.

It’s different, like this. The pulsing clench around his cock, the press of your body against his. The rush that surges through him at the way you come undone for him - always him - how he’s never been able to get enough.

He’s following soon after, with a snarl.

Unable to get a grip on his restraint. Usually can hold out, needing more.

Another. Another. Another.

Not finished until you’re boneless- pleasure-drunk - and only then does he give in to his own need.

But tonight he’s wrenched over with way you tighten around him. Tendons flexing as the steady saw of his hips grows sloppy.

A punch of metal through flesh, as he throbs - that tightly-wound tension snapping as he spills himself deep inside you with a ragged groan, thrusts going shallow as the tight clutch of your cunt milks him empty.

All those muted thoughts inside his head fading to white noise. Drowned out by the panting of his breath, the thrum of his heart.

The rutting of his hips slow, as he comes back to himself. Always losing control around you. That tight leash slipping between his fingers, piercing through. The pillow tucked under your head shredded, looking as if torn open by a beast.

“Shit.” Logan grunts - as he comes back to himself, flesh knitting together, “Sorry, sweetheart.”

A groan, as he leans back - only to find his grip on your wrists had loosened. That your fingers lace through his now, careful of the tender spots between his knuckles.

“I’ll get you another. I’m-“ He’s starting, but then you’re smiling.

“Good for it,” You finish for him, breathlessly - face tipping up to meet his, “I know.”

Still so soft and pliant. Legs still hooked around his waist as his lips press against yours - urging him to stay.

So, he does.

He still hasn’t moved.

Sometimes, it feels as if he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Breath held as he braces for a blow that hasn’t yet come, each time the cracks lengthen in his walls. Letting sunlight seeping through.

So sure it’s waiting on the horizon for him, as it always had done. Has been, since that first night you spent together, all those weeks ago.

Finally allowing himself to exhale - for today, at least - in the darkened room.

Your nails drag against his shoulders, scratching at bare skin. A little furrow in your brow at the weary sound - unable to help the question that he’s sure has been on the tip of your tongue all night.

“Did something happen at work today?”

It’s met with silence, one minute bleeding into another.

You always seem to know. An innate sense, or far too observant - and if he wasn’t so sure you were human, he’d be think you were like him.

His breathing low and steady as the hours replay in his mind again, a warm exhale against your throat. Still caging you in beneath him, your leg still hooked around his calf.

You don’t push him. He knows what he’s like - that you’ve learned it’s easier to argue with one of the brick walls in your apartment, or to talk sense and logic with Wade, when he gets in one of his moods.

Only when the scratches of your fingers slow to a halt, does he answer.

Finds it comes easier, this late in the night. In this room - his tongue loosened like the rest of him.

“Didn’t go today.”

It’s accompanied by the shift of his hands. Grasping at your waist with a low hiss as he eases from you - your body carefully untangling, as if you’re expecting him to leave.

Logan doesn’t know if he has the strength to, tonight. Instead, he only sinks back against the mattress - his arm sweeping out, tugging you close as you tuck yourself against his chest.

Not knowing where to start, or if he evens wants to - his teeth still pinching at the inside of his cheek. Eyes drifting to the glimpse of the city outside your apartment window. The moonlight that cuts across the angle of his face, a path that you follow with the tip of a finger.

Supposes he could start at this morning.

“Wade’s been talking about X-Force again.” Logan’s fingers catch yours, flattening them against his chest. The words spoken to the ceiling, eyes still unseeing, “Keeps askin’ me to join him.”

You make a low sound at that.

“You don’t have to, Logan.” There’s a twitch of your hand beneath his, “I’m sure he means well, I can talk to him-”

There’s a bloom of affection in his chest, at how quickly you offer. Trying to protect him - as if you could put yourself between him and the ghosts of his past.

“That’s not what I’m getting at.” His eyes drag to you then, crinkling, “Thank you though, sweetheart. ‘s nice of you to offer.”

Unconsciously curling his arm a little more tightly around you when he sees the way you look at him - so fiercely, eyes unblinking. Before he goes somber, loosening his hold on something he’s held close to his chest for a long while now.

“Been thinking about it.” Logan confesses, quietly.

You’re silent, processing his words. The weight of your gaze settling over him.

He gets it - he’s felt the same. Hasn’t said it out loud before - no more than a non-committal sound, when Wade first brought it up.

“Think I liked being a part of something. Back in the void, it felt… good.”

He clears his throat, his gaze drifting from you again. The bob of his adam’s apple as he swallows, fingers twitching against yours.

Had forgotten what it was like. Had rebelled even then - brushing aside the planning until Laura had found him by the fire. Even then he had wanted to discard it. Even as it festered in the night.

But even after everything, he couldn’t let them go alone. Not when he could help, this time.

“So I went today. With him. He was headed up to the mansion, and I thought I could do it. Go in this time, but-”

The sentence hangs, half-finished.

It’s not the first time he’s gone back.

Went the week after he first started staying with Wade. Needed to see if it was still standing.

If the sky was still blue above, instead of being blocked out with ash.

His body had rebelled the whole drive. Had only gone back once in his world. That time no more than a blur and yet the memories had still crashed over him, threatening to pull him under.

Even with the reminder that this mansion wasn’t his rang in his ears, it hadn’t done any good. His mind was never one to truly forget. Spent two hundred years watching places, people change. Ones that once existed, ones that would never look the same - they all existed in him, somewhere.

And even after everything - even after those bouts of not knowing who he was - they still managed to survive, broken into bits and pieces. Tearing its way through his skin to be known.

So even if moss grew high, even as it sat there - overgrown - the memories flooded back.

His feet taking root, at the gate. Unable to make himself take another step further - held in place as if by a force he’d encountered before.

Fleeing, like a scared animal.

But he’d gone again.

And then again.

Drawn back - each time moving just a little bit closer.

Each time still a mile away.

Thought maybe he could do it this time, when he wasn’t alone. Pass over the threshold and inside.

Maybe they’d still be there.

But…

“I couldn’t.” He manages.

Logan knew they wouldn’t be. It had been another knife between his ribs, when he found out they were still gone. The Logan of this world with them, and maybe it was better that way.

He’s met a few that live inside, since. Those who still carried on didn’t bear the hatred that his world did. Didn’t know him like he knew himself.

Didn’t know what he did.

Had only told a few, and even they didn’t look at him the way he was used to - and he still wasn’t sure how he felt about that, either.

Ones like Wade - Wade who had noticed the way he stiffened at the steps to the Mansion.

Grown silent.

If it had been another day, Logan would’ve had something sharp and unpleasant to say about that. But there was a ringing in his ears. Tunnel vision, narrowing down to the old brick.

The dread hadn’t crashed over him this morning. Had been right - Wade’s presence had muted it. Made it bearable, until his eyes had lifted.

Reading the old placard affixed to the stone. The name - worn away, but he knew each letter, the shape of them, by heart.

But it had him giving into the feeling that he shouldn’t be there.

“Five minutes” he had been told. Didn’t know how Wade knew exactly how long five minutes had taken, but he had been back exactly as three-hundred counted seconds had passed.

The afternoon plans dropped - taking him along for a haphazard amount of errands. Laundromat. Grocery Store. Arcade. Discount Outlet. Logan forced to follow, until he’d been able to find himself again. Push down the memories, lock them away, as he always did.

Until it felt like it happened a week ago, instead of this morning. The endless chatter a balm, with its familiarity.

He tells you this now, slowly.

“Thought I was done running.” Logan sighs. A hand scrubbing a little too harshly across his face, pulled from yours, “Guess I was wrong.”

Your brow knits. The look you give him is soft, empty fingers curling.

A breath - as if you’re unsure how he will take what you’ve about to say.

But then it’s slipping from you.

“I don’t think you’re running.” It comes out quiet, but he can tell you believe what you’re telling him.

“It’s okay that you’re not ready. You know that, right? Not everything has to be all or nothing.”

Logan hums.

“Maybe,” You start, carefully. Another breath, and he lets his hand return to yours when you reach for it - resting across his chest.

“Maybe you keep going what you’re doing. Maybe you keep trying. Another step each time.”

There’s an age-old urge to rebel - to push your kindness away. To lean into the voices he’s brought over from his world.

But it’s hard to, with his heart thrumming beneath your palm.

“If you want me to, I’d-”

It drops off - but he’s certain he knows what you were going to say.

That you’d be there.

Go with him, be by his side - if that’s what he wanted.

He doesn’t know how to take it, your offer. Voice pitching low and gruff, as he twists his chest towards you.

The words coming slowly, and he finds he means them.

“Just knowing you’re waiting at home for me is enough.”

Home.

That’s what this place has become, hasn’t it? Wade’s apartment. Yours. This room, with his things tucked among them.

“I will.” You breathe, “Always.”

It’s a promise.

It’s one he thinks he might just believe.

His eyes flick down - and the dance begins once more, as leans into you. Done with words, for now.

The cracks deepen, as his hand slips up your bare shoulder. Cradling the back of your back, as your mouth meets his half-way.

Being the one to keep you close, this time.

Losing himself in you, once more.

Logan wonders sometimes what would have happened if Wade had pulled him into another world.

Would it have been enough, if they had been alive there?

But he might not have met you, there. Things might have not gone the same way, in the journey before. Another path taken, one where he had made it alone into the room with the Time Ripper.

Or worse, if he had been the only one to make it out.

Even those who worked outside of space and time had told him there was no going back.

He couldn’t fix what happened.

He could only move foward.

One step at a time.

Logan huffs, a breath of a laugh, as your own gradually slows. The second round and the late hour catching up to you, in the silence that’s gone soft, and the warmth of his embrace.

So many nights he thought about this. Certain he didn’t deserve it. Deserve you.

Always pulling away.

But tonight, your fingers lace through his. He’s tucked between your back and the wall of painted brick behind him, almost as if you’re protecting him.

Ears keen enough to pick up the faint clattering next door. A low murmur of voices, cadences he’s come to know well.

Maybe once, he can believe he’s safe.

Not everyone gets a second chance. He knows that now, and vows to grab onto it with both hands.

Sink his claws into it, if he has to.

And as his arm tucks around you like an anchor - he finally lets sleep take him.

if you've come back - thank you so much for reading. this series has meant so much to me, so it was very exciting when I was struck with inspiration for two more chapters of their story (exploring some ideas I hadn't yet been able to get to) 💖 I am planning to post another part next week, and this will be holiday-themed!

[queervegancryptid]

Seriously, academics and the like are flawed like the rest of us, so use critical thinking skills even when you're talking to an "expert" (obligatory disclaimer half because this is the internet and half because I majored in philosophy and am wont to quarrel about what exactly counts as an "expert" because my brain is wrong)

BUT

I promise that, in general, they will be very happy to talk about their work. Academics in particular, a lot of them I've known, don't get to pursue exactly what they want all the time. So when you engage with them on topics they actually have a background in, they sometimes forget how to act and infodump with the enthusiasm of your autistic friend who lights up talking about their special interests. All the ivory tower pretentious bullshit you sometimes have to cake onto yourself in that world, it can just crumble to dust with the force of their excitement about actually getting to talk about things that interest them rather than having to publish for publishing's sake or having to teach a course because someone in the department has to and it's their turn. (Seriously, I don't know if this is common knowledge, but that's actually how some departments run things: I taught the intro course last year, so it's so-and-so's turn next. See, for example, the dude who taught my intro to astronomy course. Lecture was a snoozefest. The planetarium and outdoor work? He was a different man. The final grades for the class had like a 40 point curve. It was kind of a mess. But it was cool when he actually wanted to be there.)

I used to say that was my favorite part of academia, but then I realized it's the main thing about that world that drew me in: I wanted a place where I would be expected and encouraged to explore in ways I wasn't allowed (or wasn't able, not having the resources and living in a small town) to do when I was a kid. It didn't work out the way I wanted it to, but that's a story for another post.

It's why I love libraries. There's a "bookmine" near me (I don't want to doxx myself naming it but DM me if you want and I'll elaborate) that I would fucking adore to roam for days and days. Or just nights. You know, sneak in and hide in this massive building full of books, wait for them to close and go home for the evening, and just go to town exploring various subjects. Also my partner would be there so we could gab to each other about our discoveries. I feel like a lot of people, academic types especially but not exclusively, can relate to this yearning to explore and share.

Don't feel like the only people worth talking to are folks with advanced degrees or prestigious titles, though. Academics can be easy to find relative to other kinds of experts, but good information can come from anybody. Not just somebody with an email address ending in edu. At the same time, beware of influencers and whatnot, obviously. Good information can come from anywhere, and the same is true of bad information. Someone saying things with a lot of confidence isn't necessarily telling you the truth and doesn't necessarily know what they're talking about.

Anyway. Send the email. I promise you're not bothering them by asking about the thing they literally got at least one advanced degree learning about on purpose (in the case of academics, but like I said, this can apply more broadly than that; read the room and shoot your shot, or whatever the kids are saying nowadays). I have a lot more to say about this and may even make a post to help people find experts in a given field of study and how to use responsible critical thinking skills and research methods more generally, especially if anybody expresses an interest in any of that. But I've babbled enough on somebody else's post lol I apologize and also it will happen again

Signed - your local autistic philosopher weirdo who just really really likes information and libraries and finding and exploring cool stuff and can't shut up about it sometimes

[sageyxbabey]

Every Move You Make

MDNI John Price x Fem!Reader | your husband likes to watch you

Inspired by @the-californicationist who so graciously tagged me with the idea "Price comes home and watches you finger yourself." Teehee c:

WC: ~900 (this is entirely not proofread it might be a bit shit i'm so sorry)

CW: none, really. just mutual masturbation and piv

At last, you allow yourself to melt onto your sheets. Freshly showered and free from work for the day. You should have two hours until your husband makes it home. More than enough time to help yourself release a bit of… pent-up tension. You wriggle your pants off, graceless in your exhaustion, and begin circling your fingers gently over your clit. No need to rush.

You’re finally in the throes of your pleasure, that slow build of warmth and electricity in your core just beginning to culminate into something absolutely delicious, when–

You jolt at the shift in weight at the end of the bed. Eyes flying open, you lock gazes with your husband, one knee resting on the mattress but otherwise preternaturally still, like a wolf waiting for his prey to bolt. He’s early.

���John,” you pant.

“Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to startle you.” His rumbling voice is almost as dangerous as the smile slowly spreading across his face. “Don’t stop on my account.” He moves slowly, sinking his other knee into the bed and shifting forward until your thighs lay over his. 

You don’t move, enthralled by the look on your husband’s face. He’s so very hungry.

 Normally, John would have slapped your hands aside by now and taken over for you. Wasn’t that one of the benefits of having a partner? Orgasms that you didn’t have to give yourself? 

He raises an eyebrow, looking between your face and your glistening cunt, “Well? I want to see the show I almost missed out on,” he grumbles.

Ah, it was going to be like that today.

Your fingers dip into the slick arousal pooling at your entrance before returning to dance over your clit. Your eyes never leave John’s face, but his stare is fixed upon the movements of your hand, licking his chops. He hums, big hands stroking over the sensitive skin of your thighs, soothing you like a wild animal. He’s burning you alive, you just know it. Every nerve ending lights up at his touch like iron filings following the pull of a magnet. There’s no stopping the moan that crawls out of your throat, and your pussy clenches pitifully around nothing. 

Empty, empty, empty.

You need your husband. You need your John inside you. 

When you’re finally considering begging, you watch him bend his head forward. “Stop,” he says. 

‘Thank fuck,’ you think. At last, your husband is going to take care of it, and you can relax–

You hear him spit. You feel wetness land on your clit and meander down to your opening.

“Alright,” he whispers with a short nod, “Continue.”

You blink at him owlishly, frustration building with each pulse of arousal through your swollen clit. It’s only now that you realise John has shucked his work trousers down to the mid-thigh without your notice, one large hand fisted tightly around his cock. You tease yourself again, this time with the wet gift he has provided you, and his hand starts to move.

You stop. He stops. You speed up, he speeds up.

He smirks, a low chuckle escaping him. He looks like a dragon billowing smoke. “Thank you for finally catching on, love, I was worried you’d leave me to play all by myself.” That smile from earlier turns into a full-on grin, just a little too toothy to be innocent. 

Dangerous, your husband.

That’s okay. You’ve always liked it when he puts those teeth around your neck.

“Don’t worry, darling,” you sigh. His eyes snap to your face for a moment at your words, before they focus back on his prize. “I’ll always play with you,” you croon. Your free hand trails a path from your knee to your centre, one fingertip circling lazily around your entrance. Your husband’s eyes narrow viciously. 

“Don’t,” he growls. His hand stills on the base of his cock, watching. Waiting. Hunting.

You laugh and thrust two fingers inside yourself.

You barely get to crook them before John snaps, massive paw wrenching your hands from your flesh, notching himself against your cunt before sliding home in one smooth stroke. You’re not laughing now. You’re shrieking. 

“You little fucking minx, you just couldn’t help yourself. Are you happy?” He asks, the weight of his hips pinning you open beneath him like a butterfly under glass. You’re grinning like the cat that got the cream, cheeks burning with mirth. Your husband chuckles darkly at the sight.

“Of course you’re fucking happy.” John pulls out until he’s barely inside of you, “Can never let me sit back and watch, can you? Always so desperate to have your husband inside of you.” He drives his point home with a brutal thrust, and you wail at the feeling of his tip popping past the tight ring of muscles just behind your entrance. 

“Yes,” you cry. “Always want you inside, need you inside…” Your words trail off into moans, clawing at John’s shoulders until his entire body is draped on top of you, crushing you into the mattress. It takes barely a minute before you’re bearing down on his cock with a blinding orgasm.

You let your wolf devour you that night.

tag list:

@universitypenguin @teenagellamaangel @frogtowne

[evolucious]

A Return of Care : Zayne x Reader

For a moment, the weight of the world seems to lift from his shoulders, and he’s just Zayne—your Zayne—who’s finally allowing himself to be cared for.

pairing : zayne x reader (no gender specific terms are used to describe the reader)

prompt : Zayne is, once again, working past his limits and finds himself sick. With a bit of coaxing he just might take care himself. (aka, zayne is sick but he says "nuh uh")

genre : sfw, fluff, slice of life, zayne please get some sleep, sick fic

word count : 2,976

a/n : oh wow did i finally return after months with another Zayne one shot? I sure did.

The soft chime of the hospital’s automated door echoes in the hallway as you step into the familiar space, your footsteps light against the polished floor. The box of macarons cradled in your arms smells sweet, a gift you picked up on your way over, a small token of appreciation for Zayne. You know how much he loves these, especially after a long day of seeing patients.

As you approach the reception desk, Yvonne, the staff nurse, looks up from her station with a warm smile. She recognizes you instantly—you’re practically a regular here, visiting Zayne for your routine check-ups or just to chat when he has a free moment.

“Hello, Yvonne,” you greet her, returning the smile. “I’m here for my 7:00 PM with Doctor Zayne.”

“Right on time, as usual,” she replies, tapping a few keys on her console. “I’ll page him to let him know you’re here.”

You nod, leaning against the counter as she sends the message. The familiar hum of the station’s systems thrums in the background, a constant reminder of the vastness of space just beyond the walls. You glance around, noting the quietness of the evening shift. The lobby is calm, most patients already seen and gone, leaving behind an air of peacefulness.

Yvonne looks up, a slight frown creasing her brow. “Strange… he’s not responding.”

You raise an eyebrow. Zayne is usually so prompt, always ready to greet you with his warm smile and steady presence. “Maybe he’s in with another patient?”

Yvonne shakes her head, her frown deepening. “His last appointment ended a while ago. But I’m sure he’s just caught up with some paperwork. You can go ahead and see him—he won’t mind.”

You hesitate for a moment, but the familiarity of your relationship with Zayne pushes the doubt aside. “Alright, thanks!”

She waves you off with a reassuring smile, and you make your way down the corridor, the path to Zayne’s office as familiar as your own home. The door to his office is slightly ajar, a sliver of light cutting through the dim hallway. You knock gently, waiting for the usual, cheerful “Come in!” that always follows. But today, there’s only silence. 

Worry knots in your stomach as you push the door open wider. The first thing that hits you is the warmth—the room feels stuffier than usual, almost stifling. As you step inside, the source of your concern becomes all too clear.

Zayne is slumped in his office chair, head tipped back, eyes closed in what looks like a fitful sleep. His usually smooth brow is furrowed, lines of discomfort etched into his features. His skin has a slight sheen to it, and his usually neat appearance is disheveled. A small collection of cough drop wrappers is scattered across his desk, and the wastebasket beside it is filled with used tissues. The sight sends a jolt of worry through you.

“Doctor Zayne?” you call softly, moving closer. When he doesn’t stir, you reach out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Zayne?”

His eyes flutter open, and it takes a moment for him to focus on you. When he does, he tries to sit up straighter, “You’re here early,” he rasps, his voice rough and strained.

“I’m right on time, actually,” you reply, concern lacing your words as you take a glance at the clock on the wall beside him. 

Zayne rubs a hand over his face as he clears his throat. “Yes well, please take a seat. Let's get started with your check-up”. He says, swiveling his office chair to drag a stool beside his desk before gesturing for you to sit. 

Before you can protest, he’s already reaching for your chart, fumbling slightly as he tries to pull it out of the stack on his desk. You can see the strain in his movements, the way his hands tremble slightly as he flips through the papers. He’s clearly pushing himself, trying to go through the motions despite his obvious illness.

“Zayne–” you say, your voice soft but firm. Despite being a few feet away from you Zayne carries on as though he didn’t hear you. He pulls out his stethoscope, clearly intent on examining you despite his condition. “Let me just—”

“Zayne, stop.” you plead, gently pushing the stethoscope back down. “You’re always telling me to rest, to take care of myself, but you’re obviously not doing the same. I know you want to work but you’re in no shape to help others right now. Don’t be a hypocrite, Zayne. Please, let me take you home so you can get some rest.”

He hesitates before looking directly at you for the first time this evening, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the strength to argue but there’s a crack in his resolve, a momentary flicker of vulnerability and the weariness in his eyes makes your heart ache.

But then he shakes his head, grasping for excuses. “You must have rode your motorbike here. You cannot bring me home on that.”

“I walked,” you counter, undeterred. “And I even stopped to get macarons on the way.”

His eyes shift toward the box of macarons sitting on his desk, a brief flicker of interest breaking through his exhaustion. Zayne’s sweet tooth is one of the things you’ve always found endearing about him, and you can tell that the mention of his favorite treat has caught his attention.

You smile gently, teasing him just a little. “I was going to give them to you, but I don’t think you should have sugar given your current state.”

His stoic demeanor falters, a slight crack appearing in his resolve. It’s as if the macarons are the final straw, the deciding factor in this small battle of wills. He doesn’t say anything, but the way his shoulders sag and his eyes drop back to the desk tells you he’s given in.

He lets out a weary sigh and murmurs, “Just don’t drive my car the way you drive that bike.”

Your heart lifts with relief, and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “No promises,” you let out a soft chuckle, glad to see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

As soon as the apartment door closes behind you, Zayne seems to deflate, all the energy he had left draining away. He heads straight for the sofa, plopping down with a heavy sigh, his head resting against the back cushions. His eyes are half-closed, exhaustion etched into every line of his face.

“You know,” he murmurs, a faint smile playing on his lips, “your driving isn’t nearly as reckless as you like to pretend it is.”

You chuckle softly, sitting beside him on the sofa. “Only because I had precious cargo this time.”

He gives a small, appreciative hum, but it quickly dissolves into another cough. You watch him with concern as the fit passes, then reach out to brush a lock of hair away from his forehead. His skin is still warm, but the tension in his body seems to have eased a little now that he’s home.

“Why don’t you rest for a bit?” you suggest, your voice gentle. “I’ll make you something warm to drink. Take a shower and we then can eat those macarons together when you’re feeling up to it.”

Zayne opens one eye, peering at you with a look that’s both amused and resigned. “Only if you promise not to hoard them all for yourself.”

You laugh, the sound light and comforting in the quiet of the apartment. “Deal.”

As you rise to head to the kitchen, you glance back at him, knowing that you’ll do everything in your power to make sure he gets better—because, after all, Zayne is worth every bit of care and more.

The space is sleek and modern, with smooth countertops and neatly arranged appliances, but as you stand there, a realization hits you—you have no idea where anything is.

Your eyes scan the cabinets, trying to guess where Zayne might keep the tea. You hesitate, fingers hovering over the handle of a cupboard, unsure if it holds cups, plates, or something entirely unrelated. A small sigh escapes your lips as you inwardly curse your lack of foresight. How hard could it be to find a simple teapot in here?

Just as you’re about to open the wrong cabinet, you hear Zayne’s voice call out from the living room. “Top left, above the stove. Teapot’s in there. Tea’s in the drawer below.”

You freeze for a moment, slightly startled that he’d known exactly what you needed without even seeing you. It’s like he can read your mind—or maybe for some reason he’s just that familiar with how people fumble around in unfamiliar kitchens.

“Thanks!” you call back, relief flooding through you as you follow his instructions.

Sure enough, you find the teapot exactly where he said it would be, and the tea nestled in a drawer below. You set some water to boil, then rummage around for a mug, the task becoming easier now that you know where to look. As the water heats up, you glance back toward the living room, half-expecting Zayne to have dozed off again, but the faint sound of his cough reminds you that he’s still awake, though probably exhausted.

When the tea is ready, you carefully carry the steaming mug back to the living room. Zayne’s eyes open as you approach, a tired but grateful smile tugging at his lips. You hand him the mug, and he takes it with a murmured “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Dr. Zayne,” you reply with a mock-serious tone, sitting down beside him on the sofa. “Though I should let you know, I’m your attending physician now. I’ve learned from the very best as an intern, after all.”

Zayne arches an eyebrow at, the corner of his mouth quirking up in amusement. “Oh? And what does this new ‘attending physician’ believe is the diagnosis?”

You adopt a serious expression, holding out your hand as if it were a clipboard. “Let’s see…” you say, pretending to write on your palm. “The diagnosis is… one very stubborn doctor who refuses to rest when he’s sick.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he takes a sip of the tea. “I see. And what do you prescribe, Doctor?”

“I prescribe– a warm shower, cozy pajamas, and a strict order of rest. No exceptions.” you say firmly, finishing your fake note. 

Zayne’s eyes twinkle with amusement as he looks at you over the rim of the mug. “Sounds like a pretty detailed prescription. Are you sure it’s not too advanced for me?”

“Well,” you say, tapping your chin thoughtfully, “it’s a tough regimen, but I think you’ll manage. And if you don’t follow it, I might have to put you on an even stricter bedrest.”

Zayne chuckles again, the sound warm despite his rough voice. “You’re really getting into character, aren’t you?”

“Only because I had an excellent mentor,” you tease, giving him a playful nudge. “But seriously, Zayne– no more pushing yourself.”

For a moment, the teasing air between you fades, replaced by something softer, more earnest. Zayne looks at you, and though he doesn’t say anything, you can see the appreciation in his eyes. He knows you’re right, and even though he’s always been the one to take care of you, he’s beginning to let himself lean on you now.

There’s a vulnerability in his posture that tugs at your heartstrings, and without thinking, you reach out and gently place your hand on his forehead. His skin is warm beneath your touch, confirming what you already knew—he’s running a low fever.

Your hand drifts from his forehead to his cheek, your thumb brushing softly against his skin. “Zayne,” you murmur, your voice filled with concern, “I don’t like that you let yourself get like this”

Zayne’s eyes remain closed, but he leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheek against your hand in a gesture that’s both tender and weary. He lets out a low, affirming hum, a sound that’s as much a comfort to you as it is to him. For a moment, the weight of the world seems to lift from his shoulders, and he’s just Zayne—your Zayne—who’s finally allowing himself to be cared for.

After a moment, he reaches up and takes your hand from his cheek, holding it gently as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. His eyes remain focused on your hand as he speaks, his voice soft but resolute. 

“Alright Doctor, I’ll follow your orders.”  he says, his tone carrying the weight of sincerity. “I promise.”

You smile at his words, knowing he means them, but also knowing that it might take some gentle reminders to make sure he follows through. “Good,” you whisper, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “That’s all I ask.” 

“Now, go take that shower. I’ll make sure everything’s ready for you when you’re done.” Zayne nods, setting the mug down on the coffee table before rising from the sofa. As he heads toward the bathroom, you can’t help but feel a surge of warmth in your chest. It’s a role reversal, but one that feels right. Zayne has always been there for you, and now, it’s your turn to return the favor, even if it means coaxing him into taking care of himself with a bit of playful banter.

As the sound of the shower starts up, you settle back on the sofa, feeling content in the knowledge that Zayne is finally letting himself rest—and that you’re the one making sure he does.

After opening the window to let some fresh air into the apartment, you stand there for a moment, debating whether you should stay and make sure Zayne gets to bed. The idea of leaving him alone doesn’t sit well with you, but something tells you that he’ll be alright. He’s taken care of you so many times before—maybe it’s time to trust that he can do the same for himself.

Your gaze drifts to the box of macarons on the coffee table. A small smile tugs at your lips as you pick up the box, thinking about how something so simple could bring him a moment of joy even when he’s feeling so run down. You can’t resist leaving a little surprise for him, so you carefully take out one macaron and place it on the kitchen counter where he’ll easily find it when he emerges from his shower.

With the rest of the macarons in hand, you head toward the door, glancing back at the closed bathroom door one last time. The sound of running water is still steady as you slip out of the apartment, closing the door gently behind you. Your steps are light as you make your way down the hallway and you can’t help but wonder if Zayne has felt this way each time he’s cared for you—leaving quietly after making sure you were settled in, with a warm heart and a lingering sense of connection.

The cool night air greets you as you step outside, and you breathe in deeply, feeling refreshed and content. The box of macarons in your hand is a small reminder of the connection you share with Zayne, and the thought of him finding the one you left behind brings a smile to your face.

The next morning, you wake to the sound of your alarm buzzing beside your bed. You groan softly, rolling over in your sheets as you burrow deeper into their warmth, reluctant to leave the comfort they offer. You’d been so exhausted when you got home that you fell asleep almost immediately, and now, the weight of that sleep is still heavy on you.

For a moment, you lie there, savoring the last remnants of drowsiness before you start your day. It’s your morning ritual—waking slowly, checking your notifications, and letting the world come into focus at your own pace.

You reach for your phone, swiping it off the nightstand and bringing it close as you scroll through the usual morning updates. Emails, a few messages, and then one that makes you pause. It’s from Zayne, sent last night after you’d already gone to bed.

With a mix of curiosity and anticipation, you open the message, feeling a small flutter in your chest as you wonder what he might have said.

The message from Zayne opens with a photo of the single macaron you left on his kitchen counter. Beneath the image is a teasing caption: “Is this how I’m rewarded for following doctor's orders?"

You can’t help but laugh softly as you read his message, imagining the expression that must have accompanied the text. You quickly type out a reply, your fingers moving swiftly over the screen.

“You know, most doctors give their patients one sticker on the way out for being good sports. What kind of doctor would I be if I didn’t give you a reward?", a smirk playing on your lips as you hit send.

It doesn’t take long for his response to come through. "Touché. When can I schedule my next routine checkup? Maybe I can earn some more."

You grin at the thought, leaning back against your pillow, you type your reply.

"I’ll have to check my schedule, I’m suuuuuuuper busy Doctor." 

With that, you set your phone aside and stretch, feeling a sense of contentment settle over you. Zayne’s message, as playful as it was, reassures you that he’s okay—and that he’s starting his recovery with a bit of lightheartedness, thanks to you.

It’s a good start to the day, and as you finally roll out of bed, you can’t help but feel a quiet satisfaction knowing that, this time, you were the one who got to take care of him

{pls dont repost i beg}

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Insecure Delusions

Pairing: Ettore (High Life) x f!reader Warnings: Physical injury, smut. Word count: ~1.5k

Summary: Desensitised to almost everything, Ettore goes to extremes just to feel something. Part of the Hand That Feeds universe, but can be read as a standalone.

Author's note: Day eight of Smuffmas - holly and hair pulling. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

Boredom is a burden that weighs heavily upon Ettore’s shoulders as he moves slowly through the ship. He feels numb to the constant stimulus that he’s surrounded by; the gentle hum of the engines, the glare of the lights, the chatter of his fellow prisoners, yet his mind will not quiet and allow him to relax. Usually he throws himself into his work duties, focusing on the monotony of scrubbing floors, the way the bleach tingles against his knuckles and leaves his skin raw, but he has been given a day off today; a privilege granted to those who have donated a specimen, and Ettore had done just that this morning.

Even the momentary relief that came with climaxing into a little plastic cup hadn’t been enough to stop the racing of his thoughts. Usually, only she could do that. Sinking inside of her welcoming heat, all thoughts would leave his mind as everything became centred around the way her wetness yielded and squeezed around him. However, lately even that wasn’t enough, nothing seemed to satisfy. He needed more, the trouble was he didn’t know what more was.

Unable to occupy himself with anything else, he sought her out. He didn’t want to, he needed to, she was a compulsion that he had zero control over. He walked towards the garden, having spied Tchemy, who was the usual occupant of the ship’s only green space, in his bunk as he passed through the corridors; he knew he’d find her there, she liked the quiet.

As he stepped into the lush, green surroundings, his nose wrinkled in disgust. The rich, earthy scent of the soil was repulsive to him, almost alien in its aroma. Ettore was used to the brutalism of plain white walls and concrete, he had never spent much time outside in nature. The care that people took to tend so lovingly to plants and flowers, keeping them alive, demanding they be treated with respect, while not extending the same courtesy to other people was bewildering to him. It made him angry, so he avoided it.

It was unavoidable when he wanted to see her though, so he endured it, his hands clenched into fists as he stepped slowly between the meticulously plotted out foliage, his eyes scanning the space for her. For a moment he assumed she wasn’t there, when he couldn’t immediately see her, and was ready to turn and leave, but a quiet rustling in the far corner caught his attention, and when he craned his neck he could see that she was crouched down in front of a bush.

He approached her silently, but she could tell he was there, even before he was upon her – she had grown used to the quiet way in which he stalked, was so attuned to his presence and mannerisms that she could always sense him if he was close, without even needing to see him. There was both a sense of comfort and unease for Ettore in having this sort of bond with someone – it meant she no longer feared him, but at what cost would that eventually be to her?

“I never realised there was a holly bush here before,” she said thoughtfully, by way of greeting, though she didn’t turn to look at him. “Reminds me of Christmas.”

“Never celebrated it,” he replied with a derisive sniff, as his gaze travelled over the sharp looking green leaves and red berries of the bush she was crouched in front of.

She turned to him, looking up at him, and seemed as if she wanted to say something as her lips parted, but she closed her mouth and turned her attention back to the holly. “I don’t suppose any of us do anymore,” she finally whispered.

He watched as she reached out a hand, stroking it almost reverently over the holly leaves. Suddenly, she hissed and snatched it back with an “ow, fuck!” before sucking on her finger. Ettore crouched beside her, gripping her wrist and coaxing her hand away from her mouth.

“Bastard thing pricked me, I’d forgotten how sharp they are– oh…”

Her voice trailed off as he wrapped his lips around that same finger, his tongue running over the pad, an attempt to arouse her as much as it was to soothe her pain. He released her digit with a wet pop, letting her hand drop back to her side, as he observed her silently; the subtle dilation of her pupils, the slight parting of her lips, a wordless plea for him to turn a quiet moment into pleasure. Ettore was all too eager to oblige.

Moving from his crouched position, onto the steadier surface of his knees, he reached out, wrapping the hair at the back of her head around his fist and pushed her forward, towards him. Still squatting, the movement knocked her off balance and she wobbled, hands flying out to steady herself. Her fingers found their way into his hair, tugging harshly as her body collided with his.

Ettore hissed, a blend and balance of pain and comfort stirring within him that stirred his already half hard cock to full arousal. His own grip on her hair tightened reflexively. 

Her eyes widened the moment she realised what she had done, and she let go immediately, settling into a kneeling position as his hands moved to her waist to steady her.“Fuck, that was an accident, I know you don’t like me to touch you, I–”

It was true. In however many months it had been since they started sleeping together, he had never once allowed her to touch him, always insisting she kept her hands behind her back or above her head whenever they fucked. The idea of tender caresses and being held made Ettore’s stomach turn, he wasn’t ready for that. But this had felt different, the pain he’d experienced as she’d tugged harshly at his roots had awakened something in him. For the first time in a long time he felt alive.

“I liked it,” he interrupted her.

“You liked me touching you?” she whispered, her eyebrows raising in surprise, as a soft smile spread across her face. Slowly, tentatively, she placed her fingers upon his jawline, tracing it gently.

Bile rose in Ettore’s throat, and he gripped her forearm hard enough to make her yelp as he wrenched her hand away from his face. “Not like that,” he muttered darkly, eyes drifting to the angry red marks his fingertips had left upon her flesh.

“That hurt,” she seethed, fury in her eyes as she glared at him.

“Hurt me back then,” he challenged, staring back defiantly.

She surged forward with a snarl, her hands sinking into the shortness of his dirty blonde hair and pulling hard, making him grunt. She seized the opportunity, her mouth pressing against his before she sank her teeth into his bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood.

Ettore’s pulse thrummed with excitement, as he tore at her red scrubs, ridding her of her bottoms as he manhandled her onto her back. This was the most he had felt in years, his heart thudded so loudly within his chest, he was certain it meant to break free of his ribs. There was a certain sadness to the fact that the trajectory of his life had led him to the point where he needed to experience physical pain in order to enjoy himself, but there was no room for subtlety when she tugged off his shirt, leaving him bare chested as he pushed down the waistband of his trousers, and notched the swollen head of his cock against her slick entrance.

“Fuck,” he gritted out, pressing forward, met with the tight resistance of her inner walls, paired with the agonising sting of her fingernails raking down his torso, leaving crimson scratches in their wake.

Previously, none of this had meant anything at all to him, it couldn’t, not when he was unable to feel anything. But now, as his hips snapped against hers, his cockhead bullying relentlessly inside of her, it was as if all of his nerve endings had awoken from slumber as the sensation of being buried deep inside of her mingled with the dull throbbing of his scalp and the soreness of his lip and chest.

His hands grabbed her hips with enough pressure to bruise as he continued to rut into her with brute force. She panted with exertion, her eyes bright with arousal and something that bordered upon sinister intent. Ettore’s eyes almost rolled back in ecstasy as she gripped his throat, squeezing tightly, and his balls drew taut against his body, signalling he was close as a white, hot ache began to lick at his lower spine.

His thrust forward as hard as he could, one final time, then stilled as he pulsated deep inside of her, groaning as he pumped her full of his release. She let go of his throat, her arms dropping limply back to her sides. As his mind swam back into focus, he could see that the blood from the mess she had made of his lip had dripped onto her top. He pulled back, gaze drifting to dark marks already beginning to form upon her hips.

“You okay?” she whispered breathlessly, pulling him from his thoughts.

He wasn’t sure how to answer her question. They had unearthed something within him that had lain dormant until now, and now he had been given a glimpse of it, he was eager to keep digging until he felt something. She had touched him today, amd even though it was just to hurt him, he knew he wouldn’t want it any other way.

Part three || Series masterlist

[irisinluv]

Yandere Christmas 🎄

Yandere Christmas just sounds lovely. I mean what does your particular Yan do with you for the holidays? Are you their present? Do they tie you up in pretty bows and ropes, or have you dress in festive lingerie for them to unwrap? Are you the Christmas feast? Or is the holiday all about you? Are they bouncing up and down, practically vibrating as you walk down the stairs to see the entire living room is filled to the brim with presents? What about traditions….do they love the idea of a certain meal Christmas morning? Are you guys baking cookies to leave out the night before? Is your yan reading the night before Christmas before you go to bed, even though you’re far too old for bedtime stories? And caroling may or may not be off the table depending on your yan…. But holiday karaoke isn’t! They just really wanna sing baby it’s cold outside with you…,.

And what if you don’t know about your Yan yet? Imagine waking up Christmas morning, so excited to give your family their gifts, eager to see what you received in return… except you’re not in your bed. You’re in Yans bed, hand and feet tied up with surprisingly resilient ribbons, Christmas lights twinkling on the headboard, and a few presents laying on the nightstand.

Orrrrrr what if you do the whole big family Christmas on Christmas Day. You’re at your parents house watching your nieces and nephews open up Christmas presents and you’re gushing over how cute the little baby clothes are, the little tiny shoes, how cute the toys are….. all the while yans hand is tight on your thigh, imagining maybe they’d give you a different kind of present once they get you alone tonight. They can’t help but picture yalls little baby girl in a tiny Christmas dress, or a festive onesie, all snuggly and pouting as she can’t put the wrapping paper in her mouth…..

A Christmas proposal would also be top tier. I mean they may or may not have kidnapped you…. You might basically be spouses already…. But imagine them on one knee, eyes sparkling with all the reflecting Christmas lights, pouring their heart out as they hold up a red velvet ring box with a little green bow on the top. Imagine them sliding in the ring and then sweeping your off your feet, twirling you around until you are both dizzy. When they finally set you down you both laugh as you realize you ended up under the mistletoe like some sort of perfect ending to a hallmark movie.

Bonus- you said Bernard from the Santa Clause was your childhood crush and now yall aren’t allowed to watch those movies anymore.

[st4rgiirll]

secret

jj maybank x routledge!reader.

this is heavily inspired by that part in friends where everyone finds out about monica and chandler😭 this is also in little segments for each character finding out.

also, some of the events dont match up to the storyline of the show. i just thought of storylines for this fic and incorporated them into this.

synopsis: jj and reader have had a secret relationship for the past couple months, secret all thanks to the ‘no pogue on pogue macking’ rule. but what if the pogues find out on their own?

you loved jj. truly. the past couple months with him have been amazing, though you both yearned to be able to do this in public. but you wouldnt, not with john b around. sneaking around with jj was fun,

of course it was, but it got repetitive very quickly.

until you got found out.

pope:

hushed giggles and rapid footsteps invaded your bedroom as jj and you rushed inside for some very much needed alone time together, lips crashing together between laughs. your hands wandered his biceps, feeling them flex and twitch under your fingers.

it wasnt long before his hands were on the back of your head, tugging your head closer for another kiss. you resisted, thinking you heard footsteps. he grumbled, trying to pull you closer once more.

“c’mon princess, i havent been able to kiss you all day! let me make up for it now.” he mumbled, lowering his head toward your neck.

he sucked and bit at your neck, soothing the slight sting with a swipe of his tongue. he barely got to touch you today, let alone kiss you! he felt like he was going insane.

“jay- just- someone might be coming.” you mumble lowly, tilting your head up to allow him to kiss your neck.

yeah, so what? your resolve was weak when it came to jj, you couldnt help it.

“you’re paranoid, cupcake. jus’ give papa j some lovin’ yeah?” he grins goofily against the supple skin of your neck.

“y-yeah… you’re right.” you agree, allowing your hand that was previously itching to grip jj’s hair finally doing so.

you allowed jj’s kisses to travel up your neck and to your lips, your tongues immediately fighting for dominance. jj sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, fiddling with your crop top’s straps. he pushed the strap to the side, allowing it to fall off your shoulder.

pope, who’d watched jj walk in your room, had swung the door open to ask jj what he was doing in your room. his jaw had dropped, but jj just smirked. until his brain caught up with what was happening, in which his smirk melted off his face and grew into a more flustered look.

“uhm- jj- y/n-“ pope stumbles over his words, eyes wide in shock.

your own face was complimented by a light tint of pink, your hands now resting on jj’s shoulders rather than in his hair.

“well- w-we can explain.” you say, hopping away from jj’s body.

“we’re kind of, like, seeing eachother… in secret though, so please please please… dont tell anyone, especially not jb.” you explain, your eyebrows pulled together in concern.

“y-yeah, yeah.. okay… how- i mean, how are you two together? why?” pope asks, confused.

“well pope, when two people love eachother-“ jj starts before you smack his chest.

“we got together after the midsummers, to be fair jj was pretty tipsy. but we’re really happy together, and he’s great.” you smile.

“and the sex is just as great-“ jj guffaws before you give him a deadpanned look and his laugh dies into more of an awkward smile.

“im uh, im happy for y’all…” pope says, before shooting us a smile and quickly making a break out of the room.

”god, that was so awkward.” you mutter.

kiara:

the both of you were at an infamous boneyard party, maybe a little too tipsy. neither of you cared very much though, just dancing and having fun with your boyfriend, brother, and friends.

you’d excused yourself to go and grab another drink, jj offering to come with you. he followed behind you like a lost puppy, and once you were far enough away from the others he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“y’know why they call this ‘the boneyard’ baby?” he whispered seductively with an even more seductive laugh.

“no, why?” you bit your lip to supress a smile.

“well, obviously because people’d come here all the time for parties. and y’know what they’d do?” he paused for a moment before continuing.

“they’d bone, baby!” he laughed, pulling your hips closer to his own.

“‘nd i think we should do the same… y’know, continue a legacy or some shit.”

“hmm..” you hum.

“i guess… it wouldnt be a bad idea..” you giggle, turning around and holding his face in your hands and pecking a kiss on his lips.

“mm, good girl.” he grins, his head going straight to your neck to suck hickeys onto the skin there all while being too drunk to care about who would see it in the morning.

you let out an involuntary shiver, your arms wrapping around his neck while your fingers fiddled with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“jump.” he mumbles huskily, and of course you comply with that tone of voice.

he catches you in his arms, wrapped around your thighs. he quickly takes you away from prying eyes toward the twinkie, pushing you against the door.

“the things you do to me…” he groans, his hand caressing your thigh.

“y’so pretty baby, cant believe i landed you…” he says in a lovestruck tone, kissing up your neck and eliciting a couple of breathy moans from you.

he pulls you away from the door to pull it open, laying you on the floor of the twinkie. within seconds of shutting the door, his lips are back on you sucking and kissing. his hips rolled against yours as his wandering hands pulled the end of your dress up.

“oh baby, y’soaked through your panties… all this mess f’me?” he smirks, fingers playing with the edge of your panties.

“y-yeah, all f’you jay… please..” you whimper, and of course he cant deny you.

he’s completely pussy whipped, and he doesnt mind admitting it.

“i know baby..” he coos.

“i’ll help you baby, my good girl..” he grunts, unbuckling his belt.

you giggled in excitement as your legs instinctively spread further for him, until the door opened and kie stood there.

you were frozen in shock, this was the second time! jj closed your legs, giving you some sort of dignity.

“kie…” he starts.

“oh my god… john b’s actually going to end you.” the frizzy haired girl muttered.

“what? no he wont, im his best friend. he knows i’ll take good care of her.” he shrugs, though deep down he was worried john b would disapprove.

“please, kie.. dont tell anyone, not even sarah… we’re gonna tell everyone eventually, but just in our own time.” you plead, hoping she’d keep this a secret for our sake.

“okay, fine… but you keep being reckless and everyone will find out on their own.” she said, before grabbing what she needed and shutting the door.

and god, you knew she was right.

cleo:

jj was just working at the shop, stocking shelves and working behind the counter. you were supposed to be doing the same. key word: supposed.

see, you were too busy ogling at jj. i mean, how could you not?! he was a total dreamboat with his fluffy hair, his cargo shorts, those damn sleeveless shirts he always wore that made you want to jump his bones. dont even start with the rings.

you figured you must be ovulating because this never usually was an issue, and the dirty thoughts infiltrating your mind definitely didnt help.

“staring’s rude y’know?” he laughs slightly, not even looking up from whatever he was doing from behind the counter.

“i wasnt staring.” you reply, clearing your throat and starting to stock shelves again.

“right, and im not baked all the time. sweetheart, there’s no shame in drooling.” he snickers.

“i am not drooling.” you had to check your mouth to make sure you really werent drooling, the way you were so distracted with him you werent even sure what was happening around you.

“whatever you say.” he sighs, closing the cash register after counting the money. “c’mere darlin’.”

you didnt even fight it when your legs automatically started moving behind the counter, god you were so down bad. and you didnt even care.

you immediately gripped his shirt and pulled him into a passionate kiss, not able to resist him and his damn kissable lips. he let out a surprised grunt, but kissed you back.

this kiss lasted for a couple minutes, blocking every other thing in the world out. you guys were in your own little bubble.

“whatchu doin’?” cleo’s voice sounds out from infront of the counter.

you quickly jump away from eachother, jj scratching the back of his neck. god this was so embarrassing, you seriously needed to get better at this sneaking around bullshit.

“ah, i see… you guys been mackin’ eachother huh?” the girl grinned.

“glad to see y/n’s finally getting some though.” she winked at you.

“ha ha, funny.” you huff.

“please dont tell anyone..” you ask.

“or do, not like it’d make much of a difference. we’re always getting caught-“ jj gets cut off by a slap to the chest.

“shush jj, she should keep it quiet.” you hiss.

“right, yeah. cleo, keep it quiet.” he says.

“huh. rude boy’s pussy whipped.” she huffs out a laugh, walking out of the shop.

“well- wh- are you gonna keep it quiet?!” jj calls our after cleo but earns no response.

john b & sarah:

jj and you were just cuddling, that was all. nothing more, nothing less. there wasnt any sexual intentions behind it, just some romantic cuddles between lovers. and he’d just been beaten by his dad, again, so he needed some extra loving from his girl.

“he’s an asshole, jay… i hate what he does to you, i wish i could kill ‘im for you..” you say softly, carding your fingers through his soft hair.

“i wouldnt let you do that, cant have my pretty girl goin’ to jail for me.” he smiles, kissing your cheek lovingly.

“mm, you’re so perfect jay.. y’know that?” you ask.

“nah sweetheart, i think you’re the perfect one.. have you looked in the mirror lately? i mean, hot damn.” he grins.

you blush, you were never good at accepting compliments. “jay, stop…” you whine a little, covering your face.

“nuh uh… i wanna see that beautiful face of yours.” he pulls your hands away from your face and pecks the tip of your nose.

“much better.” he smiles.

the door swings open, the exhausted couple - john b and sarah - barging through with their small, 3 year old toddler in tow.

“yo jayj, can-“ john b’s voice dies out in shock.

“what the fuck man?!” his voice rings out, sarah placing a hand on his bicep to ground him and remind him of his son still in the room.

“you’re macking my sister?!” john b huffs, the vein in his neck popping out in anger.

“john b- i-it isnt what you think! we arent.. macking! okay?!” you get up to stand infront of john b, blocking his view of jj.

“john b.. we’re dating, jj’s my boyfriend-“

“wow! that’s supposed to make it better?! you’re supposed to tell me, y/n! and jj! my best friend man, what the hell?! could’ve atleast asked for my permission!” john b was so angry, he just wanted the best for his baby sister, wanted to protect her.

he really wasnt ready to see her getting into relationships, having to let her go and be protected by some other guy who wasnt him. a guy who could hurt his baby sister.

“he doesnt need your permission! im my own person okay?! if there’s anyone you can trust with protecting me, its jj! you know that! he’s as loyal as a damn golden retriever!” you defended jj.

it seemed to calm john b a little, sarah was outside the bedroom so the little guy didnt hear the ruckus.

“yeah… god, yeah you’re right… i just- i dont want you to stop being my baby sister, i wanna be able to be the one you always come to when something’s wrong.. i wanna protect you.” john b says softly, he was used to having to protect you since dad had gone to find the royal merchant, and was now dead.

“i know… and you still can okay? you and jj can be like- like guard dogs, huh?” you giggle.

“john b.. man, i love her.. i really do. she’s everything to me. you can trust me.” jj reassures.

sarah comes back into the room once she hears the calm talking between you all, little baby jesse john routledge, or jj as everyone called him, following with a smile.

“so… you two huh?” sarah wiggles her eyebrows, grinning.

“yeah…” you smile, blushing slightly.

“well, i guess… i approve, but if you hurt her maybank-“ john b starts.

“you’ll kill me, i know. i’d kick myself over and over if i ever hurt her, before you could even kill me.” he sincerely reassures.

“well, now that’s over… could you watch jesse for us? we gotta go help out around the store…” sarah asks.

“sure, we’ll look after him.” you smile, picking little jesse up.

jj looks at you with the utmost love in his eyes, and john b knew he’d made a good choice trusting jj with you. john b could see how in love the maybank boy was, it was a look unlike any he’d ever seen on the boys face, and if you knew jj, you knew he was a facially expressive person.

john b smiled, ushering sarah out the door and closing it behind him. all he heard as they left were giggles from the three of us.

[talesfromawannabewriter]

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

Every doctor appointment, every development of the baby, everything Lucifer was there for. When he felt the baby kick for the first time Lucifer had thought his heart had melted. He wasn’t there for the first time, but damn will he ever miss this one. Adam was more than enjoying all the attention from his mate. Eve had done her utmost best to at least ensure his comfort throughout each pregnancy.

For that he will always be thankful. However, she wasn’t Lucifer.

Adam awoke from his slumber as Hells reddish rays of light streaming down his face. He smiled feeling well rested. He brought a hand that was lying at his side up to rub the sleep out of his eye. Unexpectedly, but predictably, it ran against his large six month bump. He left out a small laugh and rubbed it. Adam: Good morning, I almost forgot about you

Once the omega had fully woken up, which took a good few minutes, he was up and about going through his morning ritual. He cleaned his face and teeth, then took a good, long warm bubble bath. It always helped him release the tense muscles that overnight brought. As he washed himself he couldn’t help but play with his long, thick brown locks. Now don’t get Adam wrong he loved his hair it was just a little too long for him.

In Heaven he wasn’t allowed to really cut it. The elders told him that it was natural for all omegas to have a face of femininity. As the first omega and mother of humanity he had to set an example. That meant that he must follow their expectations of him to a tee. His hair was only one of those things.

He wasn’t allowed to dress in his preferred style. Nor was he to have any facial hair. Then of course there were his manners, ‘omegas were to be seen, not heard’ ‘Speak only when spoken to’. He was told that after all he was the one to have initiated discord and sin being brought upon the mortals. Since the rest of omega kind came from him they all were the same. Never mind the fact that alphas also came from him.

The more he kept thinking about it, the more Adam was glad to have left that place.

Once Adam was fully cleaned from head to toe. He got out of his bath, donned a fresh robe, and made his way to the closet. He searched and searched for any pants that might fit him. However, all his maternity pants have seemed to outgrow him. He was just going through a few shirts when he felt someone hug him from behind, resting their hands on his belly. Lucifer: Good morning my beauty.

Adam: Morning.

Lucifer: What’s the matter? Can’t find anything good to pick?

Adam: More like I can’t find anything at all. None of my clothes fit me.

Lucifer: Hmm, if you don’t mind I think I know something that will work.

Lucifer snapped his fingers and Adam’s soft fuzzy robe and slippers disappeared. Only to be replaced by a maternity dress that went just past his knees. It was white and covered in skulls, wrapped against the side of his belly was a black bow. It almost made it look like a present. Adam was already impressed but when he took a glance down to his feet he almost gasped.

It was the boots he saw in that store window a couple days ago while baby shopping with Lucifer. The very best part? They were low heel and felt incredible for his already swollen ankles.

Adam: Oh baby I love it!

Lucifer: Knew you would sweetie. Anyway better finish up. I have a surprise for you.

Adam raised an eyebrow but did as he was told. Once done and ready he went outside where Lucifer was waiting for him. He grinned and pulled out a blindfold.

Lucifer: You don’t mind do you? I just don’t want you peeking and having the surprise ruined.

Adam shook his head and lowered it so that Lucifer could tie the blindfold around his eyes. Once he made sure that Adam couldn’t see. He carefully guided him down the stairs, down the hallways, until finally they made it outside to the garden. He could’ve just portal him to their destination but wanted to build up the excitement and interest. Adam was confused when he heard murmurs all around him.

Even more confused when he heard a “Get down!” Followed by a loud slap and a yelp. Adam: Uh Luci?

Lucifer: Hold on aaaaaand now!

Adam took the blindfold off and immediately gasped. Hands flying to his mouth in shock at the sight of all the baby decorations, snack tables, and most notably a mountain of presents on one stand. There were a group of demons, a few Adam recognized and some he didn’t. They were very big was all that he would say.

There was even a banner above that said congratulations. Adam turned to his mate who had a big smile on his face.

Lucifer: Happy baby shower love!

The First Anti-Christ

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

(excuse me for the long prologue)

Anti Christ, the child of the fallen one, the devil. Everyone knows of the name and what it means. However, they don’t know of WHO that child is do they? Everyone thinks that the child will make themselves known as they bring on the end of humanity. What people don’t realize is that the anti-Christ has already walked upon the Earth.

In fact he was the first to be born on the planet. You see he was one of the very first humans. The very first child and son of the mother of humanity, Adam the first omega. His name was Cain.

Now many must be wondering on how this came to be. Why did it happen. How and why did the first omega manage to give birth to the fallen one’s offspring. All will be explained here, in this story.

A long, long, long, time ago when the Earth was still young the creator of it had decided on what its final inhabitants would be. They were called humans, the very first of their kind. He made them into something special. With their names came their designations.

Lilith the first woman and alpha

Adam the first man and omega

He made the two to be companions, to watch over another as one would for a friend or as he hoped like siblings. However, his other creations had other plans. While the Lord was busy attending to his purpose of watching over the universe. The other creations, the angels went down to the humans and they told the two that they were more than just companions. They told them that they were mates and they would bring forth true humanity.

Both were confused and asked how? The angels told them that once a month Adam’s womb would welcome Lilith’s seed and instructed him for when the time came for Adam to lay on his back and to spread his legs for his mate. When they heard of this both were rather disgusted by it. They hadn’t known each other for long but they simply weren’t compatible in that way. They couldn’t even bother to be friends for they both had too many differences that often clashed with each other.

While Adam was energetic and outgoing, Lilith was reserved and careful. It would often cause arguments from the two, especially when it came to their duties. Their first duties, of naming and caring for everything in the garden. Lilith thought Adam to be immature. Adam thought Lilith to be demanding. Both seemed to think that nothing was ever good enough for each person. One thing they both could agree on is that they did not wish to be mates.

Still Adam did not wish to upset the angels and simply bowed his head and nodded submissively. They began to explain other sets of rules that both were to follow. Lilith as the alpha was to always provide and care for her omega. Adam as the omega was to always follow her way and submit to his alpha. Both were to bring children into this world.

Lilith would become the father of humanity. While Adam would become the mother of humanity.

Lilith, disgusted at the thought, disagreed wholeheartedly. She fled from the garden and away from the omega. Hoping to never set another foot in there again. She was found by someone, an angel of the Lord himself, whom she would soon call a friend and sometime after that a husband. Though she didn’t trust him at first she eventually told the angel of why she ran from paradise.

The angel was shocked and confused. Why would his siblings do that? Why would they mess with his Father’s creations that way? He wanted so badly to go up there and tell his Father of what they had done to Lilith. He knew that they would somehow find a way to pin the blame onto him.

That is why he came up with a new plan. To meet and talk to Lilith’s supposed mate. What he didn’t know at the time was that the omega was actually his true mate.

He crept into the garden, careful not to aware the elders of his presence. What awaited him in the garden was not what he expected. A true beauty, one that took his breath away. Though he had thought Lilith to be pretty. She was nothing compared to Adam.

His soft brown hair, honeyed eyes that sparkled, and tan skin that was splattered by freckles. His Lucious curves was enough to drive him insane. The angel managed to open his mouth and introduced himself. His name was Lucifer, the angel of light and God’s most favored son.

[echantedtoon]

A Lovers' Circle (Poly Haishira x Reader) Ch23 Christmas Spent Together

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(Warnings for Obanai having a small panic attack.)

The most wonderful time of the year. Christmas.

Or that seemed to be what people thought a whole lot. You loved the holiday just as much as the next person but you didn't like all the holiday hassle and the stress of getting Christmas presents before everything was bought out and gone already. You thought shopping was supposed to be fun and enjoyable. Sigh. No matter. You had everything you needed.

You sighed as the crinkling of paper sounded out. The reindeer printed wrapping paper getting folded up and tapped down over the folded pink sweater you've gotten for Mitsuri just two weeks ago. Next Tuesday would be Christmas so you needed to have everything wrapped up before then. 

"Will you be celebrating the holiday with your Aunt?" Gyomei looked up from where he was helping you wrap up the items you had gotten for everyone. Minus the book you had gotten him of course. "Mitsuri will understand if you couldn't come to her play."

Again you sighed. "I wanted to, but turns out she's going to be busy again." Something about having predictions and needing to hang up mistletoe around the city?? You never understood her crazy thinking. "So Im going to be free to spend it with you guys. What about your mom?"

"She never celebrated the holiday. Says it wasn't something she has interest in," he replied tapping down the corner of a mini box that held a cute bracelet you thought Kanae would like. "You certainly have been busy this month." 

"Well I'm about to be out of works for almost two weeks until Christmas break is over. I figured I might as well do everything I can before then." Gently placing the bow wrapped up sweater to the side, you sighed. "I just want all the stress to be over with."

He hummed reaching out a hand to pat your shoulder. "Do not worry too much. In only a few days you'll be getting a break from the stress and then you'll have nothing to worry about."

You guessed he was right. Your stressful shopping was done with and you only had this last week of work and classes before break. Really all you had to do was to pose for Tengen this weekend and then the next possibly. He had mentioned that he was almost done with his painting, so soon you'd no longer have to be his muse either. Thank goodness. So much was going on that you had little time for your boyfriend. You felt guilty about it but like always he was understanding of everything. 

The rest of that week went on as normal. All gifts were wrapped up and ready to be handed out. Final notes were taken and assignments were turned in. Your final paycheck until January was cashed in. And you once again posed for Tengen that weekend before you could finally relax and enjoy one of two days before you got to go to the Christmas festival in the park right next to the University. The plan was to go to the festival before meeting back up with everyone to watch Mitsuri's play and then head on back to her house for a party she was hosting since most everyone else was spending Christmas Day with their families instead of each other. Sounded like a plan to you.

**************************************************

The snow looked beautiful today.

The soft snowflakes coming down from the skies fluttering and falling from the dark clouds but there was still enough light peeking out of the silver clouds to allow her to see what was in the sky. Like little shiny diamonds shining in the sunlight and sparkling in the sky on the way down until they joined the ground where they joined the white blanket covering the earth that sparkled more than a thousand strands of studded silk.

Her eyes scanned the beauty before her shivering as the wind blew the cold winter air across her body and dusting her with the sparkling snowflakes.

"Are you cold? You can have my jacket if you need it!" 

You quickly held up a hand to Kyojuro as his hands immediately went to try and unbutton his jacket but stopped when you stopped him. "No. I'm ok. It's supposed to be cold after all. A white Christmas is the perfect Christmas!"

It was almost noon and already the skies were a little dark with clouds and sparkly snowflakes were falling despite the snow already being on the ground. Now here you were standing just a few feet away from the entrance next to your boyfriend and Kyojuro whom you offered to carpool with to the fair. You wouldn't have to meet at the University's theater until Mitsuri's play started at five, so you all had nearly five hours to kill and what better way than enjoying the festival?

You all slowly made your way towards the entrance to the park, feet crunching in snow and multiple people walking around you both in and out of the park.

Crowded, murmuring of a large crowd, smells of carnival food- Yep! You were in front of the park alright. Kyo motioned for you to follow him and you followed him as he began walking off towards the park entrance. Gyomei joined walking alongside you. There was a lot of people walking around you all as you went through the snow covered streets with the snow crunching under your feet, and being able to see your breath. The cold hitting your face as you looked around. It was really beautiful and perfect for Christmas.

Walking with them you all eventually heard and saw it. The many screams of delight, the smells of popcorn and other fair foods, distant fair music, and then the absolute menagerie of colors that hit you once the flood gates were passed. Your eyes widened seeing the many MANY booths lining the many splits and different walkways that the parks pathways split into. Lots were selling different items such as fan made merchandise, Christmas themed things, food, or some were games. You didn't see any rides though so it was probably a vendor only fair.

Kyojuro must've noticed your wonder filled eyes because he let out a small hum under his breath. "So. Where do you wish to go first?"

"How about the food booths?," Gyomei suggested. "I could use something to warm me up."

You nodded. "I'm down for that."

With you agreeing the group made your way to the left path where the smell of food was a lot more prominent and soon found yourselves walking down booths of popcorn, candied apples, some kind of meats on sticks, and of course the regular carnival foods of hot dogs, funnel cakes, sodas, corn dogs, and the like. You were drawn to one particular booth that was selling a variety of those items. 

You chose to just get a cup of warm apple cider and a funnel cake compared to the two giant turkey drumsticks Kyojuro bought himself. You all began walking again soon after. Not sure where you'd be going now but Kyojuro seemed to be the lead so you went along with it as you a  looked around the booths you passed with people shouting at you all or entertaining other people. one caught your eye and you suddenly paused, Gyomei did too when you suddenly weren't next to him. What caught your eye was a booth with a woman who was selling key chains with all kinds of cute and shiny metal kitsune charms. And as the small sign suggested all were just a dollar and by the size of the booth there was a decent amount.

"Is there something you like, Young Lady?," the older woman asked you with a smile.

You ended up getting a cute little white kitsune wearing a big red bow around it's neck. "Hang on a second." Your head tilted as you realized something. "Where'd they go?"

F/c eyes widened looking around before sighing when you realized the both of them was just a few booths away from you looking very interested in a booth that displayed some kind of game booth run by an older man. What the world was THAT?? You walked on over to where they were until you walked right up to the booth and the man behind it.

The elderly man in front of him practically lit up and gestured to the small machine behind him. And you realized what they were. There was tons of ornaments hanging up on a plastic Christmas tree that was spinning slowly around as they gently swayed on the rotating tree. Next to the rotating tree was a long fishing pole like thing only there was just a hook on the end without any line. Was it some kind of game?

"Hey guys." The two jumped and looked up as you addressed them, leaning over to blink at the game in front of you. "What's going on here?"

"Oh this?,'' the man asked gesturing to the tree behind him, "It's called 'Grab The Ornament'. You take one of these poles here like this." He demonstrated by grabbing one of said poles and extending it towards the tree. "Then you try to hook it through one of the loops holding the ornament to the branches like so. You get two tries. If you can get the hook through the hoop-" He managed to hook onto one of the pokeballs decorated in the pattern of a candy cane before pulling it from the tree branch. "Then you win a prize based on the numbers on he bottom. Although I can't guarantee what you'll get. It's all a mystery but that's all a part of the fun!" He casually pulled the ornament off the hook and just plopped it back onto one of the spinning branches. "Would you like to play? It's two dollars a person."

"Sure! Sounds like fun!"

You all watched as Kyo slapped down two dollars and proceeded to try and win a prize. His first try failed but on his second try he managed to hook onto an ornament that had little santa hats printed all over it. Holding it proudly up to Gyomei who couldn't resist also giving it a try of his own- You blinked when someone nudged your side and looked up towards Kyo's smiling face.

"You wanna try giving it a go?", he asked gesturing to the game. "I don't think you played anything yet."

You blinked but shook your head. "Nah. I couldn't. Wasn't ever good at fishing let alone games anyways. I doubt I could even catch one that's moving."

He hummed looking between you and the booth just as Gyomei held up his catch of a shiny red, green, and white striped ball..before smiling. You rose a confused brow as he strolled right up to the booth, reached into his coat pocket, and then slapped down two dollars onto the booth again.

"I'd like a chance to play again, Good Sir!" He happily beamed at the booth man who was happy to take the money presented to him.

"Kyo!" He turned to you as you gestured to him in shock. "What are you doing? I didn't mean for you to actually try to win a prize for me!"

He blinked. "Oh, I know. But I want to." He grabbed the pole just as the booth man handed it to him. "Besides, just take it as a gift in return for the one you gave me earlier." He must've been referring to when you helped his dad as he smiled at you and gestured to the rotating Christmas tree. "Besides it's all in good spirits for the holidays! Two dollars isn't going to hurt me, so go ahead and and pick out whatever ornament suits your fancy."

"Give him a chance. You might win something good," Mei encouraged holding his own prize up again with a smile. "Just try to relax a little and have fun!"

You gave him a look before looking back to Kyl who again motioned towards the game. ...You didn't have a say in this did you? With a sigh you looked back to the game with all the shiny pretty ornaments gently rotating on the tree just waiting for you (or in this case Kyo-) to take home as a pretty little reminder of fun that day. You accepted his gesture to come up to the booth and stand right next to him, f/c eyes blinking and intently watching the pretty tree continue to spin around and round like a pretty plant themed merry-go-round.

"Take your pick! There's plenty to chose from. Get any you want."

Any you wanted huh? Well that seemed like a good option, except you didn't know how good Kyojuro's catching skills were. Looking back at the tree it was a decent size. Not too big or small. Looked just a foot or two above you. Kyo was taller than you as well so the ones near the top would probably be the easiest ones for him to catch as well as the one's in the upper middle of the tree. Trailing your eyes downwards you looked towards the lower middle and very bottom of the tree. Hmm. He could probably grab the other middle ones but the ones on the very bottom branches are no doubt the hardest. That might be something he could do but like before you weren't sure how good his fishing skills were and you'd hate for him to have spent two dollars for nothing. So taking a sigh, you turned back towards the tree and gave a rose brow as you looked all over the fake plastic pine branches as the small machine of a tree stand ever slowly turned. Where could you even start? There was so many in all pretty foils wrapped up like a present waiting to be opened all shiny and beautiful among the lights. Flashy pretty and bright.

There certainly was a decent good amount to pick from. There was some dressed up to look like candy canes, or was wrapped in wrapping paper with prints of Christmas-y pictures. Sleighs, santas, snowflakes- And then there was those who were just wrapped up in shiny metallic or glittery wrapping paper without any patterns or prints. Plainer looking but still beautiful ornaments. But there wasn't really any you could pick right away. They all looked pretty so it was hard to chose. How were you to chose? Any one could be very special- F/c eyes paused at the sight of red and white. At first you blinked and almost didn't pay attention to it, just writing it off as another pokeball dressed up to look like a peppermint candy, but then a flash of..black?? You blinked at the ball that vanished behind the tree as it rotated before coming back around as you blinked. This one looked-...Totally different. It wasn't wrapped up in printed or shiny or patterned wrapping paper. In fact...it wasn't wrapped up at all. You blinked as on the lowest branch of the tree was an ordinary black ornament with no decoration but a single long red ribbon wrapped around itself. No wonder you got a glimpse of black...This one was the only one that wasn't fancy like the others. Kyo seemed to watch your eyes and also latched onto the ball that went to rotate around the back of the tree again, before pointing a hand at it.

"That one seems like a diamond in the rough," he commented as it disappeared watching you closely. "What do you think?"

You still stared at the tree for the longest time before looking back at him and nodding. "Sure. But can you get it?"

"Let's find out!," he cheerfully replied holding up the hooked metal pole. You all watched as he extended the pole out before him and angled it down towards that bottom branch as the ball came back around. Despite his taller height and longer arms, even he had to half way lean into the booth and stand on his tip toes to push that pole right over towards that very, very low branch. The very tip of the hook managed to catch onto it before it slipped from his hold, wobbled a bit on the branch, and then continued to mosey on it's way around in a loop again. "Hey. No worries. I still have a chance to catch it. Let's give it another shot." That was true. Kyo got to have two tries, but if he failed the second time then that would mean that he wouldn't get a chance to try again unless he gave the booth man another two dollars which you didn't want. You all watched with tense and baited breath as you all watched the ball rotate around again and again He reached towards it. This time the end of the hook catching the underside of where the ribbon around it was tied into a pretty red bow around it, and he pulled. The ball slipped from the branch and onto the hooked end of the pole. With a smile, he brought up the ball back to him, letting it dangle for a moment before grabbing it from the end of the pole. "Well it looks like we have a winner!"

"Good job, Kyo! I wonder what it is?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. Let's cash in our ornaments and see. Here." He tossed it to you which you fumbled to catch. 

You all turned it in. Kyojuro won a small packet of candy canes the vendor pulled out from under the booth, and Mei had gotten a scarf despite the fact he already wore one, and you had gotten the absolute CUTEST teddy bear you've ever seen! So fuzzy and a cute white with a shiny red ribbon tied around it's neck with big eyes staring at nothing. You LOVED IT!! 

That's how it was for the first hour. You hung out with Gyomei and Kyojuro until Kyojuro went off to watch a live Kabuki street performance and then you split with Gyomei as you both wanted to check out different sides of the park with a promise to meet up with the others in front of the university at four thirty to get the best seats for the play.  The next hour and a half was spent walking around, playing a few games, and buying one of two cute trinkets you stuck into your purse. Along the way you saw someone else whom you went expecting to see.

"Obanai?"

You stared at the familiar short, black haired man whom was standing off to the side of the park where the booths ended. He wore his usual medical face mask and black and white coat. He looked to be standing in line for a hot chocolate stand which with the cold you weren't surprised. He just barely stood there behind one man with a mom holding a baby on one hip while trying to manage an impatient whining toddler tugging on her pants. However the baby seemed VERY interested in Obanai staring at the side of his face. You smiled brightly and turned to start walking on over to say hi to him.

"Obanai!," you called out waving an arm as you passed by walking people.

Of course he turned hearing his name, blinking in surprise as you walked towards him. He turned to face you. The mother turned to hush her child. Unfortunately both turning gave the infant the perfect distance to reach over and grab the mask over his face. It all happened so fast. One moment he was staring at you wearing a mask, and then the next it was gone. Grabbed up in the iron grip of a chubby little hand and yanked off. Two large scars revealed to the world before two hands launched up and they were hidden from sight once more. 

Your footsteps halted immediately where you stood stunned. Staring wide eyed at the man whom looked like someone just told him that the love of his life just passed away. His eyes blown wider than saucers, and his hands desperately glued to his mouth. 

Obanai didn't move. 

He felt light headed. And his feet heavy like cement was weighing him down and those glazed over eyes stared at nothing. He couldn't see anything. The crowd of blues whirling around and meshing together in blurs. A massive buzz of voices like a beehive but those eyes couldn't make out the words on display for him to see nor could the ringing in his ears hear anything over the the pounding of the heart in his throat. Soon a raindrop stained the white snow underneath him. Followed by another. And another. And another until his eyes became the storm clouds and his tears the rain. And the snow his unsuspecting victims.

Exposed.

Panic.

Hide.

Don't look.

Monster.

PANICEXPOSEDHIDEDONTLOOKPANICEXPOSEDHIDEDONTLOOKPANICEXPOSEDHIDEDONTLOOK-

R U N

"Obanai!!"

Your voice didn't stop him from turning around and sprinting faster than you thought the small man could run. Through the crowd knocking over a random bystander who yelled out as Iguro unintentionally body checked him into a nearby pile of snow. Past a few park trees and disappearing into the area of the park that the fair didn't extend to. 

"Obanai!"

Again your voice could do nothing to stop his form from quickly disappearing into thin air. After a few seconds of standing there stunned, your legs moved on their own accord. Pushing past people and yelling out apologies to their mean looks as you crossed the pathway and continued to where he dashed off too. Your feet meeting off the path snow with a crunch as you continued onwards into the darkened and snowy park. 

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

Went the sounds of your feet went following the first pair of footsteps through the limited light towards the destination of the man that ran off. 

"Obanai!?"

Your voice echoed around the air as you called out towards him, slowly down your pace huffing and puffing out smoke light a train into the chilly December air. Slowly coming to a stop to look around the area. Behind you was the distant lights of the fair and a few street lights. Your left and right held nothing but snow and bare trees so you kept on slowly following the footprints in front of you in the snow. Your feet making a second paid of footsteps next to the first as you continued onwards. Closer and closer to where the man disappeared off too.

"Obanai?"

Your voice softer carrying over the area as f/c eyes looked over the cold space. No answer as you looked and looked and walked and walked. F/c eyes keeping an eye on the footprints still ahead of you as you walked along. 

Until you stopped.

And you stared ahead.

In front of you was another concrete pathway covered in ice, and lit up by a few street lamps. The wind blew a few creaking bare branches of a tree near the path and around it's based was a pair of footprints disappearing behind it, the faint sounds of heavy breathing coming from it's backside. You still stared at the tree like a scene from a bad horror movie. Before you held up your hand.

"Iguro?"

"DON'T LOOK AT ME!!"

You jumped back in surprise from the tone of his voice. It was demanding and forceful but also at the same time panicked and maybe possibly scared? Every other time you two spoke he was softer spoken and awkward. 

"I-Im not going to look at you!," you quickly clarified holding up your hands despite that he couldn't see you. "I just wanted to make sure you were ok."

"Don't come any closer!," he shot back from behind the tree, "I don't want anyone to see me!"

"I won't come closer..but maybe I can help you?" You made sure to stay calm, keeping a respectful distance away. When he didn't answer you you tried again gently. "You lost your mask. Is that why you ran away?"

"That's NONE of your business!"

So that's a yes. And explains why he didn't want you to see his face. ...Face. An idea suddenly struck you and your hands immediately went to the scarf around your neck. Pulling at it and untying the knot around your throat.

"Hey, Obanai. I got something that might help you!" The long scarf slipped free from your neck and into your hand. 

"And what's that?!"

"My scarf. You can use it if you want to." No answer back. "It's pretty long so it should cover yourself pretty well....Do you want it?"

There was a long pause of silence. Awkwardly long. About two maybe even three minutes as you stood there scarf in hand. You thought about possibly calling Gyomei or probably Mitsuri as the best option to come help him because to your surprise something slowly slunk out from behind the tree. You blinked realizing it was a hand and arm covered by a black and white coat sleeve. It was held out to you with his hand in a beckoning motion.

"Give it to me."

You blinked but obliged. "Ok. I'm gonna get close enough to hand it to you. Are you ok with that?"

"....Fine."

You stepped a few feet forward and just placed the end of the scarf in his hand- Before you jumped as it was yanked from your grip quickly disappearing back behind the tree with his arm. ...Oh.

"I'm gonna back away now. Ok?"

You got no answer back from him but you backed away anyways to help him feel more comfortable. And there you stood patiently waiting as he was assumedly thing your scarf around his face. Silence was the only answer you got back as you patiently stood there for a long time waiting for him to come out of to say something to you. When he didn't you decided to speak up again.

"Obanai, are you ok?"

"..... I'm fine."

"Ok. Are you ok if I come over to you?"

"You aren't going to interrogate me are you?"

"No, no! I just wanna talk to you is all. May I talk to you face to face?"

"....I guess."

He sounded reluctant to that, so you still made sure to keep a good distance away to be sure he was comfortable enough and if he changed his mind you'd just back away again. Slowly making a half circle, you stepped around the tree keeping a few yards away to look around the side of the tree. And there he was. Leaning his back against the tree with his arms crossed and despite the pink fluffy scarf tied around his mouth, he was turned away from you. But his head tilted slightly hearing your footfalls to acknowledge that he knew you were there.

"There you are." You smiled despite he was turned away from you. "You had me worried when you suddenly ran away like that."

"I'm fine!," he bluntly stated raising his shoulders. "Stop pretending to be worried about me! It's not like we know each other anyways!"

"No. We don't know each other that well you're right, but I was actually worried about you." You leaned over trying to catch his eye. "You're Mei's friend and he cares about you a lot too. Of course I'd be worried for you. I don't like seeing anyone in distress." 

He didn't answer at first but his head tilted further that you could see his green eye looking at you. "....Did you now?"

You nodded gesturing to his face. "If I didn't, I wouldn't have come all the way here to offer you my scarf. Does it feel okay? It's wool and I know some people find that really itchy-"

"It's fine. I'm covered so it works." Again he was blunt but it didn't sound mean. Just blunt.

"That's good." The silence then resumed between the both of you as you awkwardly stood there. He still stared at you silently so at least he wasn't ignoring you. Eventually you pointed out the direction of your car. "You know if you need a mask, I'm pretty sure I have some in the medical kit in my car." His perked up immediately in interest. "And there's still a good hour before Mitsuri's play. If you want, we can go get you one and be back before it even starts."

"You're being awfully nice to me."

"Am I not supposed to be? You haven't done anything mean to me so there's no reason for me to be mean to you.  Do..you still want to go get a mask?"

He continued to stare at you before he eventually and pushed himself off the tree. "Fine. It's better than using this scarf anyways. I don't need Tengen making any jokes about me if he sees me wearing your clothes."

You smiled. "Alright then. I think I recognize this pathway from when I did my project last month. If we follow it back around it should take us to the parking lot by the university." Fully turned to you now he just simply nodded signaling that he was probably going to follow you.

So obviously you turned your body to look towards them to leave- Except...You didn't count on the frozen ice under your feet when you stepped onto the path. You gasped as your foot slipped on the slippery surface loud enough to catch someone's attention. Your arms reached out for nothing but balance which even escaped you. No balance and nothing to grab onto to stop you from slipping on the ice and falling and hurting yourself on the hard concrete-

But..

No hard concrete hurt you.

You had squeezed your eyes shut hard expecting to feel the cold hard concrete but instead you felt a soft but firm ..something around your shoulder and lower back, and on instinct your hands reached to clutch at the thing stopping you from falling. And your body froze.....Well you weren't fallen on the ground but then how were you suspended in ...air-...You body all but froze up as soon as you opened your eyes and stared wide eyed into just as equally wide eyed mit h matched ones. Silently you both stared at one another registering why yours and Obanai's faces were so close. Until it finally dawned on your buffering brain. GOOD GRIEF!! He must've tried to catch you when you fell but instead managed to catch you and held you in a perfect dip (ironically under that blasted mistletoe as if mocking you and your situation-) and his arms holding you. On instinct your hands had clutched onto his front jacket and his face was looking at you as if equally surprised he caught you like this. The cold wind blowing over you was countered by his warmer breath..before he opened his mouth to say something. Something like 'Are you ok' or something like that, but that wasn't about to happen. He moved but not by his own accord. His foot, which was STILL standing on the same ice you were, squeaked as it slipped against the slick ice and sent him lurching forward until his face collided with something soft and warm...

And that something just so happened to be you.

His face from collided with yours. Both frozen as his scarf being the only thing separating you both. Everything in time froze for the both of you that moment.

There you stood frozen as Obanai stood above you but not on purpose. After all he did just slip on ice. But your body was frozen, numb as you stood there looking up at him like your eyes turned into those funny googly eye stickers. He did in the same. Seeming in shock, frozen in time as his gold-green eyes stared back in the same state at you. Both mind blanks and bodies not being able to feel anything but neither could tell if that was due to the cold or the fact you two were in more shock than if a pikachu had zapped you. Eventually someone did move. You did. Your brain finally processing what was happening enough for common sense to finally return to your thought process and you moved your head back. Freeing your face from his that was thrown forward from the trip, his soft black hair that hung off him tickled your forehead as it brushed against it from the moment you pulled back. The action seemed to make himself overcome the shock as well, after a moment righting his weight and yours up and slowly retracting his hands from the you to rest at the front of his body.

And you both stared at one another.

And then your brains finally processed what really happened.

The snowflakes and cold air colliding with his face couldn't extinguish the fire that froze in his cheeks as they instantly lit up the brightest shade of pink you've ever seen. But it wasn't just his face. His ears and whole face was now a pretty primrose pink instead of the usual complexion they were every other time you've seen him. And he suddenly reacted. You jumped when a gloved hand of his slapped over his covered face and his face gained a flustered expression as he just stood there. 

After a while of you both still not moving you slowly held up your hands. "I-Iguro? Are you OK-"

"I'M SORRY!!" You blinked and leaned back as he bowed up and down so fast you didn't think it was humanly possible. "IM SORRY!! DON'T TELL MITSURI!! I DIDN'T MEAN TOO! ILL DO ANYTHING!! DONT TELL MEI!!"

"Obanai!! OBANAI STOP!!" You had to physically grab him by the shoulders again when he leaned back up to stop him from bowing anymore and forced to look at you. "It was an accident. We slipped on ice. You're fine." Slowly you let go of his shoulders as he still stared. "Nothing happened. If you don't want to tell anyone else about this embarrassing situation then I promise you I won't. In fact let's forget that ever happened ok?" You jabbed a thumb behind you. "I have a first aid kit in my care, and I'm sure I have some medical masks. How about we go get you one and then just go meet up with everyone else?"

Stiffly and slightly shaken he nodded silently and you turned to start leading the way. This time keeping an eye out for any ice this time and he slowly followed behind. A few steps in Kabauramaru poked his head out and gave him a look-

"Don't gi-give me that look!" His hand gently forced him back under his scarf. "You get back in there before you catch a cold!"

"What'd you say?"

"NOTHING!"

Thankfully you didn't skip again on your way back to your car in the crowded parking lot. The walk there was mostly silent with Obanai keeping at least two yards distance behind you as you all walked to your beat up, hand me down can where he just watched as you fished your keys out of your purse, unlocked your trunk, and proceeded to carefully move over some of the packed gifts for the party tonight until you spotted the white box with the giant red x. Ah. Here we go. You quickly opened it digging through the box until you found a few folded up medical masks behind the burn cream. Obanai was still there just silently waiting when you finally closed the trunk and with a smile offered the blue foam mask to him.

"Here you go! It should fit."

He slowly took it from you before giving a serious look. "Turn around and close your eyes." To his surprise you... actually did as he asked. ".. Don't turn around until I say so."

"Ok."

His eyes narrowed suspiciously at you.. before he looked around to make sure no one else was around to watch him before his hands even reached up to carefully start removing her scarf. He held it to his face still with one hand before it completely dropped and he snapped on the mask with expert hands from years of doing this. Carefully shifting the blue mask to fit comfortably over his face all the while his eyes never left her unmoving form keeping a VERY close eye on her form but she didn't move an inch.

"....You can move now." You slowly turned around with a blink smiling upon seeing him looking away but awkwardly holding out the pink scarf towards you again. "Here. Take your scarf back."

"Well I'm glad that's settled." You did take it from him, quickly slinging it back around your neck. "How do you feel?"

"Better." He left it at that before he turned around again to just leave. "I'm going back to the festival."

"Ok. I guess I'll see you when it's time to see the play then?"

"..Yeah."

"Alright. I'll see you then, and don't worry. I won't tell anyone about what happened today. It'll just be our secret."

He gave you another look but didn't say anything else as he just turned back around and proceeded to take his leave back into the festival. You left soon after relocking your car and spending the last hour of your free time playing a few more games at the fair before leaving to go meet everyone else at the university's theater. Everyone was easy to spot considering how unusually tall both Gyomei and Tengen was. You found them all just gathered outside the entrance to the building along with Obanai whom looked annoyed made to wait for everyone to show up. 

"Oh finally! There you are!," everyone seemed lightly surprised by the fact Obanai of all people spoke to you first with an annoyed look. "The line for tickets is already being formed and we're gonna be late getting inside if we don't hurry!"

"I'm sorry. I'm here now though so we can just go get in line."

His hand pointed at you. "Don't do that again. I was this close to just finding you myself and dragging you back!"

You didn't complain when he turned to quickly step towards the already forming line before Sanemi gave you a confused brow. "The fuck was that about?"

You shrugged. "He probably just wants to get a good seat."

Sanemi hummed again but didn't press the issue when everyone else was being ushered towards the line. Standing in line and paying the twenty five dollar entrance fee to be allowed in lead you to the inside of the theater once more only this time it was much more crowded than usual. You ended up getting wedged in a seat between Giyuu and a random stranger near the middle of the rows of seats waiting for everyone to get settled and for the play to start. You thought you also spotted Mitsuri's brother and parents sitting in the rows in front of you but it was dark to tell. What you did notice was Obanai taking out his phone to either record or take pictures of the play (or more specifically his girlfriend). Which was sweet. 

You hadn't ever seen the play before so you weren't exactly sure what was going on during some stages of the dancing or what the dancers were supposed to be doing, but it was beautiful none the less especially with Mitsuri dancing in the spotlight in her beautiful dress and make up. She was rather stunning and you could see how Obanai was a lucky man...And the rest of your friends too of course. The play went off without a hitch ending with the cast all bowing to the audience cheering and clapping for the performance of the night.

"You were great Mitsuri! I didn't know you could dance like that!"

You all found yourselves in front of the university waiting for Mitsuri to come out and join you all which she did after twenty minutes. With her face still glittery from the performance makeup and a giant bouquet of roses someone else had gifted her for the perfect performance. Of course she gushed at your words, giving a small happy squeal of delight. 

"THANK YOU!! IM SO HAPPY YOU MADE IT!! ARE YOU STILL COMING TO MY PARTY?!"

"Of course I am!...But there is one problem." You embarrassedly rubbed your neck. "I dunno where you live."

"That's ok! You can follow Obi's car! It's not even that far from here honestly!"

"Ok. Sounds like a plan."

Sounded like a plan but it was easier said than done trying to follow Obanai's van through the dark snowy evening. Luckily you were still carpooling Kyojuro whom turned out had incredibly good night vision and was able to help you point out where you needed to go and you were easily able to find the Kanroji's family home. Decorated with shiny Christmas lights and a big wreath hung up onto the door. 

Oh. That was lovely but not as lovely decorated as the inside was. With a large pink Christmas tree(you were surprised Mitsuri would decorate her house in pink Christmas decorations) decked out in silver ornaments and tinsel, garlands everywhere one looked, cutesy gingerbread men shaped throw pillows on her sofa, and much much more. Kyojuro helped you bring in two large paper bags again to which Mitsuri and Suma instantly perked up immediately when seeing it.

"HA! What's that?! More mochi cakes?!," Suma asked with wide eyes practically drooling at the thought of more of your yummy desserts.

You smiled at her. "Nope but it is for you guys!" You continued already reaching into the bag to go fishing for the gifts. "They're Christmas presents!"

You pulled out the first one which happened to be Giyuu's to which you handed over to him and watched as with happy eyes he opened it to reveal the old tsume shogi board game you'd found. Shinobu mentioned once that it was his favorite game and you promised to play it with him sometime as he stared wide eyed at you. Kanae and Shinobu was next and both sisters lit up when finding out about the matching butterfly earrings you got for them. Kyojuro instantly lit up upon seeing the sake you gave him immediately holding up his bottle and shouting-

"I'll get another one and we'll use these for our New Year's festivities!"

Sanemi just looked stunned by the cute wooden beetle in his hands after you explained that Kanae mentioned him having a few pet beetles at home, but it didn't stop him from turning a bright pink. You were going to give him the silver chain you'd bought earlier but you didn't think he'd like it since Sanemi never wore any jewelry. Instead you gifted the chain to Tengen along with the new paintbrushes to which he immediately put on commenting on how 'flashy' it looked on him. Makio and Hinatsuru gushed over the amber and Ruby pendants and Suma all but death hugged you crying over the sapphire ring she had gotten. Makio pulled her off you but you were pulled into another death hug as soon as Mitsuri sat the cute Hi Kitty sweater underneath reindeer wrapping paper. This time it was Giyuu who saved you before you could pass out from lack of air. 

That means there was only two gifts left.

"Merry Christmas, Honey." Gyomei blinked down at his hands when you placed a wrapped rectangle shape in them. "I got you something I really think you'd like."

"Oh? A gift for me. How thoughtful." His smile was already there as you watched him unwrap it and feel a hand across the cover. "Oh. A book."

"Nansō Satomi Hakkenden to be exact. You said you've been wanting to read it and it took me a while-" He looked back to you in surprise. "-but I found one that was in brail for you. Y'know..So you could read it."

He continued to stare at your direction before he turned his face back down towards the book in his hands again. Feeling the soft hardback in his grasp before he smiled. "I think...this is the most thoughtful gift anyone's ever given me." You blinked when he suddenly cupped your face. "Thank you."

With a pink face you giggled into his touch before smiling. "I'm so happy you think so. I wanted to get you something you really liked." That left only one last present though. You gently removed yourself from his grip to pick up one last box before turning to the room before you blinked. "Where's Iguro?"

"Oh. I thought I heard him retreat to the kitchen. He might be helping Mrs. Kanroji with the baking."

"Alright then. I'll be right back."

With one last smile you took your leave of the small living room to go make your way to the kitchen where the delicious smells came from. Gingerbread, roasted turkey, and chocolate being some of the few smells you smelt before poking your head into the kitchen area. You saw an older woman in an apron who was pushing a gingerbread man shaped cookie cutter into light brown dough on the table and across from her stirring a pot on the stove was an older man whom had the same eyes as Mitsuri. He noticed you first looking up towards the doorway with a smile. 

"Hello there, Young Lady," he greeted which made his wife look over. "You must be the new girlfriend my daughter's been going on about. Don't think we've seen each other since that nice Rengoku family hosted Halloween."

'Girlfriend'? You brushed it off think he must've been mistaken or he was referring to you as one of Mitsuri's girlfriends as the platonic way. "Sorry. I'm looking for Iguro. Someone told me he was in the kitchen."

"Oh. He's in the backyard roasting the ham on the grill. It always tastes better when it's cooked over an open fire. You can go through the backdoor there and find him." He gestured to a door against the wall you hadn't noticed before.

"Oh. Thank you."

Leaving the couple behind you made for the door thankful that you hadn't removed your coat yet. Opening up the door you were met with a snowy backyard with a fence, a big grill with a full on ham being cooked over it, and Obanai standing next to said grill looking surprised to see you. You stared back at him ..and tried to not to laugh seeing the pink frilly apron tied over his coat with his black hair pulled up into a bun, and a pair of kitty paw oven mitts adorning his hands as he stood there staring at you. His snake was poking itself cutely under his chin and looked he was wearing a fuzzy socks Obanai had cut the tip off of to shove over him.

He stared at you with comically large eyes, probably turning to you when he heard the door open before he sputtered. "W-What are you doing here?!" He quickly accused pointing a cute mitten at you. "No one's supposed to be here until we're done cooking!"

You decided not to laugh and instead smiled at him holding up his gift. "I brought you a present!"

...He blinked. "A what?"

"A present! Y'know. A gift?," you said stepping forward to hold out the box. "Here. I got this for you. Merry Christmas, Obanai."

His brows rose once more. Looking at you, then the gift, then you, then the box again..and then finally back to you raising one brow high in confusion. "A gift? Why would you get me anything? We aren't even that close."

"Because I just wanted to." You held the gift closer to him. "Will you at least look at it? If you don't like it I'll take it back and get you something else."

Again he didn't say anything at first looking between you and the box a few times before his eyes glanced to the ham still roasting over the grilled fire. Not sure if he was contemplating entertaining you or if he was making sure the food wouldn't burn before talking to you but he turned to look at the box again .... before slowly removing the cutesy mitts from his hands and putting him to the side. You smiled and watched as he slowly took it from you. He stood there for the longest time turning it this way and that inspecting it before bringing it up to his ear and shaking it-

"Careful!" He stopped. "It's fragile. If you shake it too much it might break."

...He blinked. Before looking at the box suspiciously and just reaching up to rip the lip off. Peeking inside. .... before he blinked yet again. Just...staring at the box. You stood there still in silence as he continued to just stare unblinking into the box. 

"... It's a snake! Or it's supposed t-to be a snake. Tengen told me you liked amezaiku candy. I uh-... I'm not very good at making it as you can see b-but I hope you like it." 

Obanai said nothing still, just looking into the box silently before reaching inside the box and carefully pulling out the fragile sugar-starch statue from inside. It was a snake, of what was supposed to be a snake. It was bulging in strange places, and the scales sculpted onto it's body was uneven, and it's head looked like someone used helium to inflate it. Eyes popping out cartoon style. The edible paint used to pay it either was a bit sloppy and chipped and some places weren't even painted. Overall not the best looking.

"Mitsuri showed me a picture of Kaburamaru so I tried using him as a reference..but I don't think it came out too good. Sorry about that."

He just...held it in his hands. Yes hands because he let the box drop to his feet in order to cradle the small thing into his hands like he was handling glass. Eyes wide as the houselights bounced off the shiny sugar it was made from. Like an imperfect statue still made from beautiful glass. 

"You made this..." He looked up at you wide eyed. "For me?"

You nodded happily. "Yes! Merry Christmas, Obanai. Do you like it?"

He looked back at the statue awed. "Yes."

You lit up in relief. "That's good. I'll leave you alone now. See you back at the party."

You then turned to go back inside and to let him cook. He watched you go back inside silently staring at where you disappeared before slowly looking back down at the candy snake in his hands. 

The rest of the party went off without a hitch. You spent a few hours there before saying you had to go home and being sure to drop your boyfriend and Kyojuro off first before returning very late to your home, dragging yourself inside, and then just plopping yourself in bed after the long day you had. 

The rest of that week into the next was pretty normal. 

Christmas Day you stopped by your aunt's to give her the present you'd gotten her but she wasn't there so you left it in her mailbox. You were invited by Kyojuro and Tengen to their New Year's Eve party next week at Tengen's home. You finally got to relax a lot. You went out to the park and dinner with Gyomei. Posed for Tengen yet again that weekend and he promised to have it done in time for New Year's which just made you all the more excited for the party. You even got to hang out with Murata after so long of you two being busy and watched him go nuts over the comic you got him. Everything seemed to be going so well!

Until next week.

It was a few days before New Year's and the party, and you were trying out the recipe for no bake cookies from your new cook book (a gift from Sanemi of all people) when you heard a loud knocking on your front door. With a confused blink you paused in your work to go towards the door. You were expecting your aunt, your boyfriend, or one of your friends but you weren't expecting to see the short man on the other side staring at you as soon as you opened the door. You blinked at the thick black and white coat and the thick scarf wrapped around his neck and lower face hiding his mouth from view. 

"Oh. Hi, Obanai. I wasn't expecting to see you here." You smiled but you were a little confused by his presence here. "What are you doing here?"

He didn't answer at first before saying two words. "Totoro kombu."

You blinked. "I'm sorry. What?"

"Totoro kombu," he repeated seriously.

You still stared at him confused at first before it hit you. "Oh. Do you want me to make you more?" He instantly nodded eagerly. "Oh sure. I can do that right now since I got some seaweed. Do you wanna come in? It's cold out there."

He nodded again and you stepped aside to allow him to come inside.

[katherynefromphilly]

Winter Solstice 2024 will be Saturday, December 21, at 09:31 UTC.

And because the Winter Solstice always makes me think of Merthur, and specifically this scene from Ever onward, through magic, through love, (pt 4 of the We Begin Again series), I figured I’d re-share this bit of fluff and feels here.

Happy Winter Solstice everyone!

************

They spend the Winter Solstice in a small house Arthur found for them on the internet. It’s upon the western shore of one of the larger, more popular islands, but it has its own private beach, surrounded by palm trees and thick-leaved shrubs.

After they finish a swim, Merlin spreads out a blanket upon the warm sand, and Arthur lays down upon it, arm beneath his head so he can watch the sun descend into the ocean, from a sky already aflame with brilliant oranges and reds.

“Now that is a sunset,” Arthur says.

Merlin lays at his side, propped up on his elbow to appreciate how Arthur’s skin shines golden with the softening light, how his chest rises and falls with his breaths, how his legs are still muscled and strong beneath his soaking swim trunks. Arthur is beautiful, breathtakingly so, and somehow growing more so ever day, in this new life they’re sharing together.

Merlin finds he can’t help but stare. But then, he’s allowed to do that now, isn’t he. So he goes ahead and keeps on doing it.

“You’re missing the sunset,” Arthur laughs, and pokes at his ribs.

What’s a sunset, Merlin wants to say, compared to you? But his throat is too tight, and he can’t get out the words. So he looks at the setting sun instead. Watches the view go blurry. Tries not to blink, to let Arthur see what he’s feeling.

He can’t help it though. Moments like this, with Arthur warm and alive at his side, and the sun setting so beautifully into the tropic water, and their long lives stretching out before them, together, gods, always together-

“Come here,” Arthur says, rough, and pulls him close.

Merlin wraps himself around Arthur’s body, and kisses him, and kisses him.

The waves lap at the beach, and the leaves whisper in the humid wind, and the sky shifts from reds to oranges to violets as the sun dips below where ocean meets sky.

Merlin lifts his head, half drunk on Arthur’s kisses, and on his touches, and on love. Arthur looks the same, a crooked smile upon his face as he lays beneath him, hands running up and down Merlin’s sides.

“I think we missed the sunset,” Arthur says, unconcerned.

“Happy Winter Solstice, then.”

“Feels more like a Summer Solstice, doesn’t it.”

“Too peaceful to be a Summer Solstice,��� Merlin says, meaning Arthur’s return from the dead, and the battle they’d waged.

Arthur must think he means the festival, though, because he quirks his head to the side, as he brushes hair from Merlin’s eyes. “Do they have a festival in Avalon on the Winter Solstice as well?”

“People gather near the standing stones. That’s about it, though.”

“You don’t throw a big party?”

“In the cold weather?”

“Just like you to avoid being out in the cold.”

“Well if I’d had a decent coat, or fur lined boots, like a certain royal prat I know-“

“Excuses, excuses…”

Merlin shoves himself up to an elbow. Peers narrow eyed down at Arthur. Then lifts a hand over Arthur’s chest, and wiggles his fingers.

Arthur’s yelp at the freezing sleet that follows is music to Merlin’s ears, for a few seconds anyway, until Arthur picks Merlin up and carries him, laughing and shouting out half-hearted protests, into the ocean.

Merlin’s protest silence completely, when Arthur embraces him in the warm, warm water, mouth finding his own as the foam hisses around them, salt and heat delicious as yuletide sweets upon Merlin’s lips.

“Royal bully,” Merlin breathes between kisses, fingers winding into Arthur’s dripping hair.

“Insolent sorcerer,” Arthur murmurs back, and moves his hands lower, turning Merlin’s reply into soft gasps, and then groans, and finally, over and over again, simply “Arthur”.

[manicandobsessive]

Icarian | L.H.

Chapter 1: Wildflower and Barley

"Springtime from my window. Another month has not much longer now. The sun hesitates more on each evening's darkening. Would all things god allows, remain above ground? Like grief and sweet memory, wildflower and barley." - Andrew Hozier Byrne

Prologue > Ch. 1 > Ch. 2

A/N: Thank you for the love on Nobody's Soldier! I plan on doing a taglist so comment or message to be added. Sorry this took so fucking long life was kicking my ass, I'll try to get chapters out as much as I can. I wanna make sure I give y'all some high quality stuff though. ANYWHOOOOO enjoy ch 1!! <3

Warnings: Fem!human reader, Logan has attatchment issues, Swearing, Mentions of religon, Jean Grey slander

WC: 9.5k

The only things you could hear were the light bristle of the trees and the occasional chirp of the birds. The smell of spring and promise of summer that came alongside it brought you more serenity than one could imagine. Especially when peace in your mind never meant much to you. It was seemingly impossible. But now, here, you finally felt it. 

Of course, some days could be better than others. You still felt the lingering effects of all you’d been through in the back of your head. Their words, their actions, none of that truly ever went away. But spring brought in a form of quiet you hadn’t experienced- ever, and you could at the very least appreciate that.

The light warmth of the sun blessed your skin, the breeze made some stray strands of hair fall in front of your eyes. You’d made progress, and that was enough for you. You still were able to recall the days where being alone without brain stimulation was almost dangerous, the presence of a distraction was your lifeline more times than you could count. Those times were when the thoughts became too loud, and the noise- nothing short of overwhelming. Be that as it may, Charles’ mansion had gifted you a part of yourself that you never knew existed. 

You never could express how grateful you felt, although the bastard probably already knew. Prodding around your head and all. 

The distant laughing and shouting of the kids playing their games made you flutter your eyes open. A grin tugged at your lips due to the sound, simply seeing them happy made you happy in return. It reminded you of the better times, those rare moments when everything else had faded to nothing and all you were left with was joy. 

However, the fragment of a memory wasn’t ever going to be enough to provide you with any lingering desire to return to that.

You slowly sat up, purposefully avoiding the dizziness you dreaded from lying down for a long period of time. You felt noticeably calmer than you were when you ventured outside in the first place. And as an added bonus: no feeling like the world was spinning on its axis. 

You ran a hand through your hair to lazily brush it back to its original style. Allowing it to freely cascade down your back and frame your face. You then stood up, adjusting the waistband of your jeans and tugging your shirt back to a comfortable position. Cracking your neck and back, and leisurely picking up your belongings. Those being no more than a pair of headphones, a book, and a water bottle. 

While you never really read, you enjoyed pretending to.

You casually strolled back to the mansion, a content manner about you. All you could think about was how much you loved spring and the way you had felt lighter on your feet. You couldn’t even remember why you were so furious in the first place-

Nevermind.

The second you opened the door to the back gardens. The one used specifically to enter and leave that part of the school. The weather damage and the grating sound when used was proof enough. That all went out the window.

Upon entering the school, you made eye- if you could even call it that- contact with the single soul responsible for said anger. 

In an attempt to pass by him without a word, you swerved the other direction, keeping your chin held high. Your things were clutched close to your chest. It was in his best interest he didn’t speak to you, and yet- he still did.

Leave it to Summers to not take a fucking hint. 

He said your name with an odd mix of assertive-caution. You rolled your lips and turned back to face him, finding yourself a good enough distance away that you could excuse yourself at any moment easily. 

You can handle him. It’s fine.

“We need to talk.”

Or not.

The way he- without fail, managed to irritate you with a simple phrase was honestly impressive. If not for your underlying urge to break his goddamn nose.

“Not in the mood.” You replied shortly, rolling your shoulders backwards. A half-assed effort to prevent yourself from saying more. 

“Don’t be like that.” 

The both of you were honestly surprised you hadn’t made an attempt to take his life yet. You couldn’t help the involuntary raise of your brows at his tone. It was a silent warning- to him. You’d hoped he’d gotten the message. 

“You know I just want what’s best for you-”

Shocker. He didn’t. 

Blah blah, you tuned it all out as you typically did when he began his meaningless lectures with those 9 words. You were quite simple minded, conflict-wise. If you didn’t want to speak to someone, you didn’t. If they didn’t respect your request, you didn’t care to hear what they had to say. It’s just how you worked. He could at least try to accept that. 

“Listen,” you started, cutting him off. It was better he quit, or forcefully resigned, while he was ahead.

“Last I checked, you’re not my dad. Or my older brother. Or any person that holds any type of authority over me in general. You don’t technically have a say in any fucking thing I do. That being said, if I do decide to go out on my own, it’s really none of your goddamn business. For your information, I simply asked out of basic respect for Charles. But I won’t. And I mean won’t, Scott, tolerate being talked down to because of something as basic as that. Understand?”  

He cleared his throat, his expression hinted to you that your response was the absolute last thing he expected out of this conversation. You were normally a patient person, understanding even. It seemed he’d pushed you well beyond your limits. He opened his mouth to reply, to which he was cut off, yet again.

Except this time, it wasn’t you.

“Listen Slim, she asked ya to shut up. So for everyone’s sake, will ya?” And there, out of thin air, appeared Logan. You’d learned his name was, after the- very- brief interaction you’d had with him no more than a few days ago.

~

Scott obnoxiously cleared his throat, as he does when he’s uncomfortable. Or when the room’s attention is focused anywhere that’s not him and him alone.

Both you and Logan came back to your senses, you shook your head softly. Promptly clearing your mind of any wandering thoughts. Logan mentally facepalmed at his inability to keep his mood from switching so suddenly. 

Not his fault you were fucking breathtaking. The man was practically rendered speechless. Still, he returned the scowl to his face, easy enough to do with Scott right there. He was extremely unwilling to let anyone know he was just about ready to plan your wedding in his head. That would stay locked away forever.

“Logan, what exactly do you need?” Scott questioned, his attitude even more disgusting with the new presence in the room, you’d noticed. You could metaphorically cut the tension between the two with a knife. But there you silently watched, as if it were your favorite reality show. Your arms stayed crossed in a subconscious state of defense, curious as to why this ‘Logan’ guy had to interrupt so overdramatically. 

“Where’s Chuck?” Chuck? Who the fuck is-

Oh. Charles.

 He’s one of those.

“Like I said before, what do you need?” Scott replied in a way that you could only equate to how parents speak to their children. Which seemed to irk Logan on even more than he already had been. “Ya ain’t the fuckin’ professor, Summers.” He responded with a tone that made you bite your bottom lip to hold in the laugh threatening to escape you. Despite your distaste towards the man for interfering in on your conversation, you had to admit that was kinda funny. 

“‘M gonna ask ya one more time,”

And that was your queue to leave. You weren’t keen on fighting, or watching others fight. And you had a feeling staying there, blatantly eavesdropping, would result in something you didn’t want to be a part of. Especially with how big Logan was. Or with the way he was burning holes into Scott’s head and essentially growling with those last few words. 

~

You let loose a sigh of relief, thankful that someone had stepped in. Finding yourself even more grateful that someone was Logan, who from the all of 5 minutes you’d heard him speak to Scott, knew how to put him in his place. 

Most likely because Scott knew he’d end up with a broken rib, or 4. 

“I’m just explaining-”

“Buddy,” Logan clapped his hand on the man's shoulder in the most sarcastic way he could. He treated Scott like a little kid. And in many ways, he may as well have been. “I’ve been hearin’ ya talk to yourself for the last like- 2 minutes. She clearly ain’t interested.” 

To that, you snorted a small, tiny, miniscule laugh. One Logan, to your surprise, caught with a smirk. Whilst Scott was too wrapped up in his own humiliation to pay much attention to anything else. He brushed off Logan’s hand and muttered something that sounded- almost- like an apology to you, before scurrying away. Most likely to pester someone else about rules and whatnot. Seriously, how does the guy walk normally with that huge stick up his ass?

Logan folded his arms, running a hand down his face in a display of pure exhaustion before facing you. You snapped out of your daze, your eyebrows lifting to a softer, less agitated expression as you glanced up at the man.

Was he this tall when you last saw him?

You huffed a small laugh, and an appreciative smile graced your features. One Logan found more attractive than his conscious mind was willing to accept.

“Thanks,” You spoke up first, making his smirk widen just slightly. If you weren’t so observant, you wouldn’t have caught it. But you did, and it made your heart beat just a tiny bit faster. 

“‘S no problem, darlin’.” He replied, making you bite the inside of your cheek in turn. The nickname didn’t go unnoticed, and yet all you could do was stand there and nod.

Fucking talk you moron.

Your inner thoughts shouted at you to say literally anything. But, with the intimidating presence in front of you, you couldn’t utter a string of words, let alone one single response. You opted for the easiest way out:  a curt nod and walking the opposite direction of where you assumed he was headed. Avoiding this would make things easier, even if your room was on the entire other side of the building. (and you’d have to make a complete turn around once you were out of sight.)

However, his voice stopped you in your tracks. The smooth way he spoke made the hairs on the back of your neck stand at a full 90 degree angle. It was deep, rough, but gentle in a way you couldn’t put a finger on. Unique.

“Yeah?” You turned back over your shoulder at the call of your name. Your voice- by some miracle- projected the confidence you so severely lacked at that point in time. You patted yourself on the back for it, mentally. 

How did he know that? The sound of those syllables coming from his mouth sent a harsh rush of warmth directly to your cheeks.

“Right?”

You couldn’t help but cock your head sideways. Completely clueless to whatever the hell he was talking about. Maybe you were too in your own world to hear him.

Damn it.

“Sorry, what?” 

You felt idiotic, “what” being your response? The best you could give was that?

“Your name. That’s it, right?” He replied, chuckling to himself at your display of confusion. It was cute, that much he’d admit. For now. 

“Oh,” The realization hit you like a brick wall to the face. “Yeah. Yeah that’s it.”

 You scratched the back of your neck, taking a careful step towards where Logan stood, rooted in place. He carried himself with such a quiet confidence, something you’d admired right away. You had wondered what made him that way. Maybe the fact that he looked like he could throw you across the room and not break a sweat was a factor. Or maybe he was just that type of person. Or maybe it was all an act. But who were you to say?

He shot you a playful smirk and nodded in acknowledgement. You didn’t seem to notice the quick once-over he did, or maybe you just refused to come to terms with it, he thought. Surely you knew how gorgeous you were. There was no room for debate on that. He was enamoured with everything, your entire way about you, it was making him melt from the inside-out. 

You felt the need to continue the conversation, to learn more about who he is. “You’re Logan?” You inquired, knowing damn well that of course, he’s Logan. Who else would he be?

Truthfully, it was the only string of coherent words that came to mind at the time. 

“That’d be me, darlin’.”

There it was again. 

Was he doing this on purpose?

From the wry look he gave you, the teasing glint in his eyes- he most certainly had been. And, matter of fact, he was enjoying it.

He liked the way your face flushed, the way your eyes widened slightly everytime a nickname fell from his lips. He wondered if you had never been shown that type of affection, one that most would brush past. You may not have noticed, but he sure as hell did. He found himself fond of the little quirks you had. Even after speaking to you for all of 10 minutes. 

You nodded, pursing your lips to prevent the smile ready to likely invade your features regardless. You then bit your thumbnail, something you did when you were nervous, and glanced around the hall you were both in. Finding the wallpaper pattern suddenly more interesting than ever. The intruding thought of how awkward you had been took full control of your senses.

“How long’ve ya been here?” His voice broke through your thoughts- yet again. He, too, wasn’t quite ready to let go of this interaction. 

You gave him a sidelong glance, a minor twitch of your lips signaled to Logan that you were just as intrigued as he was. Which then gave him all the confirmation he needed to take a calculated step towards you. Now at a much more comfortable distance, he could see the features of your face even closer. And fuck were you making it hard to keep it cool.

You shrugged slightly, your body didn’t move much, if at all. He was slowly coming closer, inch by inch. And somehow, you were completely okay with it. You welcomed it.

 You turned your body to face him, fully. He was clad in nothing but a grey tank top that highlighted his muscles almost too perfectly, paired with a well worn pair of jeans, and a belt that had a large and slightly rusted buckle. He looked rugged, but effortlessly striking nonetheless. 

Quit it. 

Your brain needed to shut down those thoughts as fast as they started. 

He, however, noticed the once-over you gave him. The way you took in his appearance- it made him bashful, almost. The inconsolable undertone of nervous-excitement that jolted through his body at the exchange was far from casual. He still, however, returned the gesture- a risky one at that. Though you didn’t seem to pick up on it. Once again.

It would frustrate him if he didn’t find this little game entertaining. But regardless, he undoubtedly found you wearing a simple pair of high-waisted and slightly baggy jeans with a basic white t-shirt all the more attractive. 

“I think it’s coming up on five years now. That I’ve been here.” 

He nodded, raising a brow at the response, visibly confused. 

“What’s that look for?” You laughed, mirroring his expression more teasingly. You were quickly opening up to him. Small bits of your personality shining through the facade you hid behind. How he managed to do that? The answer was beyond your comprehension.

“Nothin’, doll. Jus’ seems like I woulda remembered ya.” His voice alluded to something more. Almost as if he were studying you. Trying to see through you- it felt. Or being suggestive, in a way. Was he flirting?

“When did you get here then? I’ve never seen you before.” You took another step forward, hesitantly.  His eyes still scanned your exterior as if he was racking his brain to find any memory of you. 

“‘Bout 7 or 8 years ago, seems like I’ve been missin’ ya though.” 

You nodded, biting your cheek again. Unknowing of how to respond to something like that. You’d never seen or heard of him much prior to the interaction days ago. And you guaranteed you would have at some point. “Yeah, seems like.” You replied softly, now looking him over in the same manner.

Absolutely not a chance in hell you could’ve forgotten someone like him. 

His demeanor changed just slightly. His face went from one of intrigue, to confusion, and finally, realization. Your heart began to race, you wondered if it was something you’d done. Already fucking up something that hadn’t even started, sounds like you. 

“Sorry, doll. Prof’s callin’ for me.” He cut through your overthinking in a split second. You allowed a smile, one of relief, to cross your face. He found the sight endearing, noting the way you relaxed at his reassurance. He’d keep that in mind for later.

 You hummed in understanding and stepped around him, “I’ll see ya around?” He asked, turning over his shoulder to look at you again, a ghost of a smile in return to yours. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you Logan.” You turned back around, walking with purpose to your room. The way you said his name- ever so sweetly- was sure to be on constant replay in his head for the remainder of the day.

 Probably the rest of the week, if he was being honest with himself. 

~

Logan didn’t bother to knock on Charles’ door. The man knew The Wolverine was on his way, he was bound to be prepared for the chaos that would ensue. He briskly slammed the door behind him with a deafening thud. Crossing the room in a few strides to finally stand in front of the professor’s desk. The moment he’d come all this way to fucking Westchester, New York for. 

“No need for the dramatics, Logan-”

“Save it.” He cut past the small talk rather fast. He never had the time for that shit, and now less than ever. His arms folded in front of his chest defiantly with a distinguished scowl. His anger was more present, the venom in his tone was palpable. 

“Why am I here?” He tapped his foot on the hardwood flooring, awaiting a response that was more than likely to piss him off more than he already had been. Charles still kept his composure, his unwavering patience working doubletime against Logan’s obvious agitation. 

“I’m afraid you already know the answer to that, my boy.” Charles simply responded. 

This fucker always had to talk in riddles. 

He thought that mainly for himself but he was convinced Charles heard it as well. Simply based on the amused sparkle the old man had in his eyes.  Even more to his irritation. He knew the professor found it entertaining. His inner dialogue would 100 percent get him locked away with anyone else, but the professor? He reveled in it. Some of his funniest memories were simply prodding around Logan’s mind. Logan knew this to be true, even through his denial of it.

“I don’t. ‘M not settlin’ down ‘ere. Quit askin’.” Logan huffed, not only at the idea but also the knowing look in Charles’ eyes. Always carrying himself like he’s more educated on something Logan didn’t quite understand yet. Which isn’t entirely untrue. He did carry one of the strongest minds in the world.

“What?” Logan regretted the word- immediately, he knew this man would have some smart reply. Some profound revelation that would have the power to turn his world upside down if he let it. Most times he couldn’t help it, it’s just who Charles was. And who he was: a telepathic genius with a blunt way of speaking. The two factors did little to counteract the other. Logan could appreciate these qualities in the man, he respected him for it. Most didn’t have the guts to tell Logan what they really thought about him. But Charles, he never so much as hesitated. However, when it was something Logan didn’t want to hear? Well, that very well was a foolproof plan to end in disaster.

“I believe you may have some reason to, after all.” The professor sat back in his chair, a lax smile still ever-present on his face. The sight making Logan feel small in his own body. Which was ironic for a man of his size. Logan rolled his eyes, scoffing in the process. No way Chuck was trying this. 

“If you’re implyin’ what I think-”

“I’m simply speaking the truth, Logan. You have no need to worry, your secret’s safe with me.” 

Was he really kidding with him? 

That had to be a fucking joke.

“‘M stayin’ until ya have another mission f’me, that’s it.” His words were short. He was beyond done with this conversation. The man was trying to get him to admit what? He wanted to be here? Logan knew better than that. Settling down would never be for him, it could never be for a man like him. He'd come back here for an assignment, take it, and leave. And the cycle would repeat until he decided it didn’t. That’s how things worked for him. On his terms, no one else’s. He wasn’t ready for all that. The emotional aspect of things, sacrificing his pride. For the sake of having a place to call home? 

He’d rather be shot 47 times. 

“You’re quite stubborn, you know,” 

And he did, boy did he ever. That was the one thing he didn’t completely resent about himself, his ability to stand strong. But now, there he stood, waiting for the words that were inevitably about to leave the professor’s mouth. Good or bad, he was positive their small amount of time together would end there for the day.

“You and her have very much in common.”

Yeah, he was done. 

He mumbled something to the effect of  “‘M not fuckin’ dealin’ with this.” and exited the office less than quietly. The man had no right, especially peeking around in his head like that. And even if he claimed not to, there’s no chance in hell he would have brought that up with no rhyme or reason. Logan hoped to hell his thoughts about you were that loud, so loud the professor couldn’t help but call attention to them. But he knew, oh he knew that you were lingering longer than welcome in his head. And he also knew he wasn’t opposed to letting you stay there.

~ 

He grumbled to himself all the way to his room, only stopping for a second when he ran into Jean in the hall. For some odd reason, he always stopped to talk to her. Probably the need to impress her, the all but obvious crush he once had festering for the woman in front of him keeping him cemented to the ground whether he wanted to or not. 

“Woah, there big guy.” She naturally took hold of both his broad shoulders and looked up at him with those eyes he’d found himself thinking of a little more than he should’ve in the past. She knew about this infatuation, and without a doubt, every time he came back it made waves in her’s and Scott’s relationship. Logan always noticed. Always.

Her teasing smile made his muscles contract just slightly more than they had been previously. He ran a hand through his hair and took a respectful step backwards. He muttered nothing more than a straightforward: “Jean.” To which she smiled at and crossed her arms in front of her, her tongue ran over her soft pink lips. He knew she did all of this on purpose, only wanting to get a rise out of him. It seemed like an urge she had. At least from what Logan observed. Like she needed to feel that power over him. She’d rejected him time and time again. Making it known she was only for Scott, yet he found himself back where he started once he’d returned. Every. Single. Time. 

Which- may or may not be part of the reason he started coming around less and less in the last few years. 

“What brings you back this time, huh?” She stepped towards him, cocking a brow out of curiosity. He’d hoped. “Chuck. Last mission ‘s done.” His tone was clipped, uninterested. Despite his former need to please her, the constant nagging to chase- he felt nothing. Much to his relief, and slight confusion.  Jean, alternatively, wasn’t having any of it. He could tell by the sudden shift to her expression. He saw the way her eyebrows dropped and her posture slumped by just a little. Logan, well, he couldn’t have cared less. He was already pissed, the added pressure of her emotions was about as unappealing as they could be to him at the moment. 

He tried- and failed, to take a swift step around her form. A shot at leaving her standing in the hall and heading to the confines of his room without so much as another word. All he wanted was somewhere he could close his eyes and take a fucking breath. 

Seems like she had other plans. 

“Are you upset with me?” Her voice was fake, oh so calculated. So unlike the version of her he’d gotten to know all those years ago. She’d changed so drastically since he had given up on the idea of them. Since he decided the hope of being more than friends was practically useless. He was nothing but a game to her, he knew that. He just took a long time to come to terms with it. But after the last time he’d come back, it sealed the deal. He was over it before anything had even started. For the better, of course. One of the rare occasions when he’d chosen the logical answer: his own sanity.

He turned his head slightly, not bothering to even make basic eye contact with her, and he responded assertively. “‘Ain’t doin’ this, Jean. We’re friends, keep it that way.”

And with that, he left her in the hall. He ignored the glaringly obvious strain of  guilt gnawing at his gut for being so cold to the woman he once was convinced he had loved. A story for another day.

 But he still couldn’t find it in himself to give enough of a shit to turn around. 

~

You knew that it wasn’t a good idea. The minute you stepped foot outside the threshold of your room you wanted to abort the mission and go back inside. The warmth of your bed called to you like a siren. It was appealing, for once. The longing to stay home clawing at the inner workings of your mind. Yet, your own stubbornness had stopped you.

Typical.

Dressed in leggings and a black sweatshirt- a pathetic attempt at being stealthy, you made your way downstairs. You didn’t so much as take a breath, to your knowledge, when you made your descent. Managing to shock yourself with your unusual lack of clumsiness. Which was near impossible for you to achieve on a good day. The creak of the stairs, if any, was unnoticeable. Though your anxiety still got the better of you as you bit your bottom lip in anticipation of something- or rather someone, finding you. For some reason, you still continued forward. At this rate it was to rub the fact that you’d left successfully into Scott’s stupid face and nothing more.

Your keys were stuffed in your bra in hopes that it would muffle the sound of them jingling before you had pulled them out to get into your car. In retrospect, a ridiculous idea. No one would be awake at that hour. 

Slowly but surely your sock-covered feet made contact with the mansion’s main floor. You allowed yourself to breathe a light sigh of relief. You’d made it one step farther. Although, your escapade was far from over. 

Logan, ever the insomniac, heard you the instant you opened your bedroom door. His razor-sharp senses picked up on the smallest of sounds. Though involuntary, it did come in handy at times such as these. His head snapped from where he was idly watching the movie in front of him. Some bullshit about ‘little women’. Nothing he actually needed to think about, just a way of sidetracking his brain, whose thoughts were ever-present and frustrated him to no end.Because why would he even attempt to sleep after a day like today? 

He slowly sat up from his otherwise comfortable position on the couch. Leaning closer, towards the sound of muffled shuffling and the distress of the old stairs. His eyebrows furrowed in concern as he watched you make your way downstairs from the floor of which your room remained. He nearly chuckled at the sight of you looking like an amateur robber in action, completely oblivious to his intense stare. 

He’d stop you, but he was enjoying this far more than that movie. 

As you “silently” shuffled to the garage door, he figured it was time to step in. He respected you being an independent woman and all, but for your own safety he was fairly certain he should at least know where you were headed. He couldn’t have Scott on his ass knowing full well he let you just up and leave like that. 

He gradually stood up, his stride not so much as taking you by any form of surprise when he saw you laugh to yourself in the seemingly safe space of the driver’s side of your car. He found it charming, even if he was five seconds away from scaring the lights out of you. 

“Where ya headed?” 

You shrieked, jumping back so far that you collided with the headrest. Hard enough for you to consider having a concussion. The asshole just watched and laughed. With your eyes tightly shut, you rubbed the back of your neck in a half assed effort to either soothe the oncoming headache or uncross your eyes. You weren’t quite sure which one it was.

“Christ..” You muttered, the expression more to yourself but Logan, of course, had heard. He found it even funnier than the original reaction he’d gotten out of you. A true, rumbling chuckle blessed your ears. 

In turn, you lightly fluttered your eyes open, glancing over at the towering man staring down at you from the outside of the car. You blinked again, just to be sure that it wasn’t some odd hallucination. Or that your brain wasn’t damaged to the point of fully dreaming.

You opened the door, stepping outside of  the car rather shamefully. You felt like a kid again, getting reprimanded by her mother. Your face was flushed full of embarrassment, and you kept your eyes to the ground. Not willing to see the look on Logan’s face at the moment. 

“Don’t let me stop ya, bub. Jus’ heard somethin’ from the livin’ room ‘s all.” 

Those words had you unable to resist lifting up your head to find a lighthearted expression on his face. He truly wasn’t mad or disappointed, like you expected him to be. And he genuinely had  found the situation amusing, which seriously relieved the tension in your body. At least from what Logan had noticed. 

You shook your head softly whilst directing your attention back towards the floor. You laughed purely in a self deprecating manner. “Was planning on sneaking out,” You muttered, coming to the realization that the phrase sounded even worse as you said it aloud. You were absolutely sure he thought you were acting like some rebellious teenager. When, in all reality, you had every right to come and go as you pleased. No questions asked. 

“Dunno why, just needed an escape.” You lifted your shoulders in a slight shrug, feigning nonchalance. You felt the need to explain yourself, despite Logan’s lack of incessant questioning. You were used to a lengthy lecture or consistent interrogation from Scott, sometimes even Jean. It built nothing in your relationships except for resentment. Ororo handled things with grace, she’d always made you feel validated. She had a way of empathizing that the other two had lacked severely. If you’d had one person to call a true friend, it was her. All three of them were around your age, yet Scott and Jean still treated you like you were nothing but a liability. Which couldn’t be further from the truth. You’d asked for your freedom. As simple as that. Nothing more than the right to be your own person. And for some odd reason it always ended worse than it began. Needless to say, you’d given up on the dream. You instead focused on what you could control. Which unfortunately led to being generally lonesome in this place. These defenses were clear as day to Logan, but he refused to push you on them. He understood the frustration of being seen as someone unworthy of trust over their own facilities. He’d been experiencing his entire life. He rather simply allowed you to speak uninterrupted, and replied with nothing more than a nod when you were done. To your surprise.

“They don’t let ya out often?” He raised the question, he’d been genuinely curious to what the situation was. Was this what you and Scott were fighting over the other day? He didn’t have any need to let you know he was eavesdropping, but he’d assumed the latter. You didn’t come off as a difficult person, he doubted there had been much that you and Scott disagreed on. Or at least fought over. His assumption had been correct. Even if the man was insufferable.

“Don’t make it sound like I’m a patient in a ward, Logan.” You laughed at his choice of words. His own lips quirked into a soft smile and he uttered a gruff ‘sorry’ in return. You casually shut the door to the car, no longer careful of not being loud, and walked back inside the mansion. Promptly, and with significantly less caution than you’d had prior. Logan found your laid-back switch in demeanor compelling. He had to bite back a grin in admiration. 

Nothing was really ever that deep to you.

You strolled back inside, Logan in tow beside you plainly. The silence between you two wasn’t awkward. It was simply a quiet that could be shared between people who have been friends for years. Who knew each other and were comfortable in that. And for someone on the outside looking in, it might’ve seemed that way.

“You’re watching Little Women?” You scoffed, a bemused laugh escaped you as you turned to Logan from the middle of the living area. He stood at the door, leaning against its frame with a deadpan expression. Trying his damndest to act serious, but when he saw the laugh you gave him, it chipped away his attitude immediately. The way you so effortlessly got under his skin was remarkable. 

He grunted and pushed off the wall, stalking towards the couch. Lazily, he rounded it to flop back down onto the space he was resting moments before you showed up. Not that he was mad about it. You followed absentmindedly, your body sprawled out in a chair adjacent to him. You leant on one of the armrests, while your legs hung off the opposite comfortably. As if it were an everyday occurance. The act was domestic, natural. That had been the thing you’d predominantly picked up on with those minor interactions with Logan, no action was forced. Not to you at least. You didn’t know it, but he had thought the exact same. 

You picked at the flaking polish on your nails whilst Logan sipped on the half empty bottle of beer he’d found in the very back of the fridge. He thanked himself silently for having left it there the last time he’d come back to the mansion. Beer had been one of the few items essential in his day-to-day life. No matter where he took residence. Addiction? No. Just a sense of consistency with something. It reminded him of a time he couldn’t necessarily put his finger on, with amnesia and all. But it felt like something he’d always done. Even with the nagging of Charles about his “No Drinking” policy. 

Logan broke the silence with an annoyed grumble of “This movie’s bull.” To which you gasped in dramatic horror. It made Logan’s head snap your direction, unsure of what the hell he’d done to set off that reaction. As he met your eyes, he was relieved to see the playful smirk on your face. Obviously playing up your surprise, but you looked offended nonetheless. 

“You don’t like Little Women?” Your eyebrows knit together. Your hand laid flat on your chest in a manner that made him snort a very brief laugh while he placed his beer back on the coffee table in front of him. He liked that you made him laugh. And it was never forced, he wasn’t the type to fake something to spare another person’s feelings. He gradually switched his attention between you and the movie, folding his arms and relaxing back into the sofa with a huff. “Jus’ ain’t gettin’ the point.”

You all but exaggerated an eye roll, which made him smirk all the wider. You scoffed, responding in the most matter-of-fact tone he’d ever heard. “The point, Logan, is to show the lives of these people. How they went from girls to women. It’s empowering. And that doesn’t even begin to explain the majority of the movie.” You explained, which had succeeded in intriguing him, though he tried not to show it. He followed, rolling his eyes in the same exaggerated way you’d done, and scoffed to himself. 

“Empowerin’ my ass. I still don’t get it.” 

You groaned in mock annoyance, but you actually enjoyed telling him these things. You loved when you could banter and your counterpart could keep up. And you loved even more that he let you talk, and he asked intelligent questions. He was a great listener. Even if you didn't necessarily realize it was because you were someone worth listening to.

It goes without saying that the majority of that night involved explaining the plot of Little Women to Logan. And him finding he did like the movie, after you’d talked him through it of course. 

Though, he may have only liked it because you looked so happy to talk about it. 

~

It was well past 4 A.M. when you and Logan had simultaneously decided it was about time to go your separate ways and attempt to sleep. You’d highly doubted that you’d get any type of beneficial rest at this point, but you were willing to at least try. 

Your more frequent yawns and half-lidded eyes were a distinct indicator to Logan that you were ready to break off and head to bed. But, on the contrary, you were hesitant to end this- thing. Whatever it was. You really enjoyed his company, and he, yours. There was no need for deep talks, no pressure on gauging the other person’s thoughts, just getting to know each other on the most basic of levels. It was refreshing. 

After he- reluctantly- admitted to liking the movie, you continued to speak about everything and nothing. The conversation ranged from music taste, to books, to debating over who the best 70’s rock band was, and even sharing the tiniest crumbs of your inside life. By tiny, it was literally nothing more than he already knew. And vice versa.

And while you both didn’t want to admit it, you felt yourselves craving to know each other on a deeper level. 

Logan, always and forever being the gentleman, insisted on escorting you to your room. The gesture was nothing but innocent. And a way to spend more time around you. It was pretty late- or really early, after all. He cared for your safety, as he did everyone’s. He tried to rationalize with himself that that was the reason he’d offered. 

Maybe part of him also wanted to know where you stayed.

Much to his disappointment, his room was on a completely different floor. Maybe he’d see if someone wants to switch with him. You guys could end up being good friends, what’s the harm? What if you’d needed something in the middle of the night? 

He would, however, keep those thoughts to himself. He was a bit obsessive, maybe a hint of possessive, but all in good conscience. He did have some animalistic tendencies after all. Who could blame him? Your presence was intoxicating. He was addicted to your laugh, your voice, your scent, just- you. 

“‘Night, sweetheart,” He placed a hand on the doorframe, a small distance from where you stood in the doorway. You smiled ever so delightfully upwards. Eyeing his towering figure in front of you. You found the man- who not even 72 hours ago you thought to be intimidating and slightly off-putting, now charming and someone you were willing to get to know. 

He returned your expression, a hint of a smile dusting over his strong features. The soft look he’d had in his eyes made your heart melt, though you made the excuse that he was just tired. It couldn’t possibly be anything else, right? 

No. 

The nickname, on the other hand, would have you giggling to yourself once he was out of earshot.

“G’night, Logan. I’ll see you around?” You asked almost casually, but the hope in your tone didn’t pass by his notice. He felt his heart clench involuntarily in his chest, like a damn lovesick fool. He nodded, attempting to play it cool. He couldn’t have you know you were the first person his heart raced at the idea of seeing again since he’d lived in that god-forsaken place. 

“Yeah, see ya ‘round.” His voice was soft, saying your name. But rough in a sense of a serene thunderstorm. The type of sound that could lull you to sleep. And you’d let it happen. 

You quietly stepped backwards into the confines of your room, smiling sleepily as he walked away. You shut the door. Sighing to yourself, and flopped face-first onto your bed. You expected tonight to go so much differently than it did, but you weren’t exactly upset at the outcome. In fact, you were more than giddy he’d caught you leaving earlier. A flutter of something you weren’t quite ready to admit yet crossed your heart and face when the memory popped back into your head. 

You attempted to sleep. Which you deemed near impossible after 5 minutes of tossing and turning. Instead, you opted for spending the remainder of the night binging some comedy show on your TV and drifting back to the thought of Logan.

Were you really that down bad already?

He, luckily, wasn’t any better off. The absolute second he left your presence and the hallway where you resided. He all but dragged his feet to his own door. He longed to go back to you. To talk to you, make you laugh. It was a strange feeling, something he wasn’t sure he’d ever known. Which, for having been alive for well over a century, was saying something. He would refuse to speak that into existence. The words would stay locked away in the depths of his soul until further notice. He didn’t want that mess of emotions, despite how drawn he was to you. He knew already that you deserved someone that would be a match for you. Someone sweeter. Someone to rely on, to fall for truly. Someone that doesn’t have as much baggage as a hotel lobby. He didn’t think he could ever be that, for anyone. No matter how hard he may have tried. And he surely couldn’t ruin you like that, you were too heavenly. Too angelic.

Nonetheless, those ideas wavered and he’d had a restful sleep for the first time in years that night. 

~

The gentle call of your name stirred you awake. You fluttered your eyes open the slightest bit.

“Hey,” 

You squinted, the sun unforgivingly shone directly into your line of vision. You rubbed your eyes, mumbling incoherently. Slowly, you sat up and took in your surroundings.

Shit.

You must’ve fallen asleep on the couch earlier in the day. 

Seeing as you didn’t sleep a wink last night, your current state made perfect sense. 

As you looked around, sleep addled as ever. You noted that you were, in fact, in the living room. Resting on the same couch Logan had been talking to you from the night prior.

Now why the fuck was he your first waking thought?

“Glad you’re back. The hell were you sleepin’ on the couch for, doll?” You snapped your head to the sound of the voice. A wave of nausea hit you as the blood rushed to your head. And lo and behold, it had to be Logan, standing behind your choice of a bed for the day with a concerned furrow of his eyebrows. His voice, however, held a hint of amusement that made you huff a laugh- even having been as exhausted as you were. 

You ran a hand through your tousled hair. Surely, you’d have to have looked disheveled. It just had to be him who found you this way. Lucky you. 

“I, uh,” You yawned, in spite of the hard nap you’d just taken. Kneading your closed eyelids with your knuckles. You scrunched your nose and blinked up at him. Caught completely off guard with the way he was looking at you. 

He found it adorable.

“Didn’t sleep last night, guess I did here. Is it still Tuesday?” You wondered aloud, which made Logan chuckle deeply. The sound sent a shiver down your spine. 

“Still Tuesday. What’d ya stay up for?” He spoke as moved from behind the couch and sat on the other side of it. You pulled your legs into yourself to make room for him, as you were just fully taking up the space a moment before. He would’ve been fine had you stayed in that position. Much to his surprise since he’d hated physical contact.

“Couldn’t sleep.” You shrug, your vague response made his amused smirk slightly drop from his face. He leaned back with narrow eyes, giving you that familiar look. The one that made it seem like he was trying to read your mind. It made you nearly crack a smile. Was he really that concerned?

“’S real vague, darlin.” 

To which you laughed softly in response. Lowering your head back on the armrest to look at the ceiling. The relaxed smile on your face was unwavering, guess that just reflected your emotions around him.

“Well.. I wasn’t going to blame anyone,” You started, making Logan raise an eyebrow in amusement. The sight made your stomach flip. Somehow every expression he’d made only enhanced his attractiveness. 

“But, someone kept me up all night talking.” You finished, nudging his thigh playfully with your foot. You weren’t entirely sure what made you so willing to act in such a way. But he didn’t feel like a stranger, and you took that as an invitation. Logan, with his quick reflexes, caught your ankle. Making you breathe out a small gasp followed by your radiant smile. He then tightened his grip ever so slightly, noting that you didn’t attempt to pull away. 

“That so?” He taunted in return, the playful back and forth turning into something more. Something charged, unspoken. The tension between you both was clear.

“Mhm,” Was all you could reply, through the fit of laughter you were desperately trying to suppress with a tight-lipped smile. You tried to wiggle out of his grasp, only to be met with an even stronger hold on your poor ankle. He was still gentle, not on any mission to hurt you. Ever. He had unbelievable strength, that much was obvious by his toned muscles that were unnoticeable. The way his large, calloused hand completely engulfed your ankle had your mind- and heart, thudding out of your chest.

He could hear it, too. It only stirred him on more.

He practically dragged you towards him, his own boisterous chuckle added to your light giggling. A symphony that was more beautiful than the pearly gates of heaven themselves. 

Whilst caught up in your play-fighting, if you could even call it that. More or less a battle you were bound to lose. You’d failed to notice the figure that was lurking in the hallway. 

Jean had heard Logan’s laugh, a very rare one at that, from down the hall. Not to mention the way your own mind was screaming with unexpressed affection. A sentiment that was sure to bubble to the surface at some point, though you forced it into your subconscious. 

Jean walked with a stride so light that even Logan with his sharp senses couldn’t pick up the faint click of her heels. She stopped abruptly when she caught a glimpse of the scene in front of her. It made her stomach churn with a sickening jealousy. So this had been why he disregarded her that easily. The reminder of her sour exchange with Logan only added fuel to the fire. She’d been dwelling on it for days. It was an unfamiliar territory, the lack of two men’s attention. The constant chase and the way she’d had him wrapped around her finger. 

Logan was so caught up in that moment with you that he couldn’t even pay attention to his surroundings. That of which included the unmistakable scent of Jean’s floral perfume. The smell was pungent, often overwhelming to the average person. Let alone someone who could find things like that from miles away. Logan ignored it all those times for the sake of being around her. It wasn’t impossible, not when he found her being there otherwise entertaining. Or comforting. He wasn’t sure. 

But now, seated next to you. So intensely captured by what you offered. He wouldn’t dare to compare you to her. He’d realized then that Jean never gave him comfort. What he felt around her was never comfortable, this was. 

Nothing had ever come so easily to him, never in his life.

Jean, opposed to whatever you two had been feeling, had used his distraction to take advantage of him. Prying around in his head for a nanosecond. He was unbelievably sensitive to that type of thing, she knew better than to try something like that. But she just wanted an idea of what was going on. Evidently unhappy with what she found, she shut the investigation down immediately. 

She masked her frustration with somewhat contentedness, purposefully interrupting the pure exchange happening between you and Logan. With a smile, that is. 

“Having fun?” She asked from behind the couch, where Logan was before moving to be closer to you. Her voice was saccharin, laced with hostility. Logan’s smile instantly dropped at the recognition of her voice. With a clear expression of agitation, he silently let go of you. At the loss of contact, you readjusted yourself, trying to regain your composure as well as possible.

The very obvious red flush on your cheeks made it difficult.

“Somethin’ ya need?” Logan questioned with no shot at patience, he knew Jean all too well. Yet, he was in no rush to jump back into her good graces. Which was unlike his former need to please her. He used to be by her side at the drop of a hat, ready to give or do anything for her to give him a fighting chance. He had realized it was a lost cause long before she’d caught on, clearly. 

“Professor wants you.” She stated, with a pointed look in her eyes as she averted her gaze to you. You stood up, collecting your bearings briskly with a bewildered look on your face. Jean simply shrugged, a half-hearted effort to seem clueless. Though Logan’s glare towards her was unforgettable.

If looks could kill. You thought.

You then excused yourself quietly, but with grace. You weren’t scared of the professor, and you sure as shit weren’t scared of Jean. Her ulterior motives meant nothing to you. You and her never had been more than acquaintances.  You were civil with her as she was with you, and that was the extent of your relationship. 

Logan’s eyes followed your figure desperately. His body deflated as you retreated from the room. Your warm nature replaced with a chill. He swore the room lost its color when you left, and he’d hoped you were as disappointed as he was for being interrupted.

He shot to his feet when he was sure you were out of earshot. His problems with Jean began long before he knew you. He was well-aware you weren’t to blame for any of this, and he was intent on making sure you found out about their history on his terms. Not through any of Jean’s petty antics. 

“Logan, wait.” She pleaded, her voice much less harsh. He closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling with an exasperated breath. His knuckles turned white with the clench of his fists. 

“What,” He turned slowly, his strong eye contact making Jean wince. They both knew what she was doing, and Logan, most of all, knew damn well he wasn’t about to let that go. He could hold a grudge. And in this case, he had every right to.

“Y’know what, no. I don’t got any time for this.” He waved her off as he decided he wasn’t in the mood for her groveling. Without a second glance, he left her to stand alone in the living room. His frustration was evident, his anger resurfaced. Damn her for ruining the little slice of happiness he’d gotten. 

He was sick of it. Beyond through with the immaturity of her actions. Every memory came flooding back. Each thing he’d let go with an excuse. Every time he apologized for something she had been at fault for. He-

“Hey! Wait.” He sighed when he heard a breathless voice moving in his direction. Exasperated, he shifted to see who needed his attention now. 

Suddenly, the cloud above his head dissolved into the sky and the gentle gaze returned to his eyes.

God, you were gonna be the death of him.

“Professor didn’t need much, figured we weren’t done talking.” You caught up to him, slightly red in the face and still attempting to catch your breath. And he found you beautiful. Even more so, in earnest.

“If you want to hang around me, that is.” You finished, a teasing way of hiding the regret you’d felt for the rambling you’d just tortured him with. He simply looked at you, tracing every detail of your face. Committing you to memory. You had to be an angel. A sweet temptation sent there to ruin him.

 You were unable to decipher what the hell the man was thinking due to the fact that he hadn’t spoken yet. Maybe you came off as desperate, you did run back here to find him, anyways. Oh fuck, what if-

“‘Course I do, sweetheart. Nowhere I’d rather be, if ‘m bein’ honest.” 

He’d fallen into step with you easily, his reply caused your lips to break into the most shit-eating grin. You’d be embarrassed, if only he wasn’t looking at you in the way he was. Like you’d just given him the fucking moon. 

Hell, you already felt more important to him than you’d ever felt to anyone in your life.  

[the-universal-sun]

Hello I love you're aggression content and I was wondering if you have any posts or had cannons about Dipper and Maple being age requesters with either Stan being the caregiver or the bean each other's caregivers

Hmmm, well while I don't have any posts about the twins regressing, now is as good a time as any to start! I hope this is what you were looking for, and thank you so much for your request! 'm always open for helpful comments, too!

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-I feel like Dipper would start unconsciously regressing first. He's stressed almost all the time, and we know he's worried about his parents fighting, so his worries and anxieties would manifest in more childish ways, I mean we see how he sucks/chews on his shirt when he gets stressed or too deep in thought. So that would just keep happening and Stan, worried and wanting Dipper to stop but having to keep his gruff persona, steals and stick a pacifier in his mouth whenever he notices Dipper's doing it. He's hoping to dissuade Dipper from chewing, and it almost works at first, but then he starts to find the chewing and sucking on the pacifier comforting, so he just keeps it in. He'll keep it and use it when he's not around Stan, too, just to calm him down.

-Stan would see that and be so confused, but at least he's not staining his shirt with spit. So he just shrugs and rolls with it, noticing how much calmer his nephew gets with the pacifier. Sometimes, even, Dipper will just want to sit with Stan and watch his shows-westerns which eventually turn into cartoon reruns from the 60s and 70s "the classics, kid!", which enthuses Dipper much more than Black and White shows.

-Eventually, Stan just starts expecting Dipper to act younger than he is when the pacifier is out, and he's not complaining, no sass from his nephew? No complaining when Stan wants to eat oatmeal to give his aching gums some relief from the dentures? Dipper even joins in on eating oatmeal with his Grunkle Stan, but only if there's lots of brown sugar and cinnamon in his

-Of course there is, Stan makes sure of that

-Then Mabel starts to notice how much time Dipper spends with their Grunkle Stan and sneaks around to watch what happens-just the tiniest bit jealous because her brother isn't spending as much time with her. Dipper only spends time with Stan when she's with Grenda and Candy, but that's besides the point

-She's...confused when she sees her brother laughing at old people cartoons with a pacifier in his mouth, but honestly, she's up for weird! Stan obviously notices her spying and gestures for her to wait in the kitchen, telling Dipper to stay put while he gets some juice for them

-Stan very seriously tells her that under no circumstances is she ever allowed to tease her brother about this. She's offended at first, but remembering the time when her and Stan made fun of Dipper's manliness (or lack thereof), she agrees. Sometimes she just can't tell how far is too far

-She's still jealous of how much time they're spending together, so she asks to join one day, double pinky promising that she won't make fun of Dipper or Grunkle Stan (he's quite soft with Dipper when he's like this, but he's got an image to uphold dagnabbit!) and you know what? She can get behind it. Watching cartoons and drawing all day without being told to grow up? It's great

-It's not until after they had that run in with dinosaurs that she actually feels what Dipper feels when he does this-she finally understands that floaty feeling that her brother's always talked about, how her worries drift away and she can just be

-Stan thought he'd have a handful with two kids acting like this, but they are surprisingly well-behaved, content to just color and watch his favorite childhood shows. He's also caught off guard by how much he enjoys it, he thought he'd get annoyed watching two kids acting like younger kids, but it brings a sort of lightness to his heart that he hasn't had before. Is this what being a parent is like? Nah, that's still too much responsibility than what someone like him has or wants. But having his great niblings there, his family there, relying on him and wanting to be around him, loving him, well, he can indulge in the twins habits for a little while longer. Just because it makes them easier to deal with. That's all

-Man, Stan sure needs to dust in here, it's getting in his eyes

[playedcrowd5610]

Keep Away - Danny Phantom x Transformers Prime

Summary: The Decepticons have to hide Danny from Megatron.

---

Set in a series where Danny finds Starscream one day and decides to start haunting the Decepticons. That's basically all the context you need but if you want more here is the rest of the series:

Haunting the Nemesis

Part 1: Chasing Stars

Part 2: Burning Rubber

Part 3: Adventures of the Decepticons' Pet Ghost Or Tumblr Master List

--

Danny found himself once again hanging out in the medbay. After a lot of convincing, Knockout had begrudgingly allowed the human to commandeer a small corner of the lab for himself. Danny used it to work on his tech and small experiments he liked to do to pass the time. Danny hummed to himself before quickly glancing over at the Decepticon medic, who was running one of his own experiments on a large table on the far side of the room. Danny didn’t see what it was, but he was too preoccupied with making sure his current work didn’t blow up in his face to go and check.

Danny focused back on his work, sticking his tongue out the corner of his mouth as he lifted a human-sized beaker that the Cons had somehow acquired for him—he wasn’t sure he wanted to know where from—that had been filled with energon. Carefully, he poured one drop into a larger beaker of ectoplasm. Ectoplasm that he had provided from himself, of course. 

Danny tilted his head as the concoction hissed for a moment before the ectoplasm seemed to absorb the energon, charging it in some way. The ectoplasm started to glow brighter, and Danny could feel its power amplify slightly. He tilted the beaker under the light. “Interesting,” he hummed to himself.

On the other side of the room, Knockout glanced up from his own work, curiosity finally winning over. “What are you doing?”

Danny glanced up with a smirk. "I thought you didn’t care about my 'boring organic experiments.'"

Knockout crossed his arms over his chest with a scoff. “I just want to know what you are doing with that energon I graciously supplied to you."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Graciously supplied? You guys have an entire hangar full of the stuff."

Knockout was about to retort when a ping echoed throughout the room. They both glanced up at the monitor to see a message on the screen from Soundwave: ' Megatron: Approaching.'

Knockout’s optics widened. "Scrap," he muttered, his gaze darting between the human and the door.

Danny didn’t have time to prepare himself before Knockout snatched him up in one servo and turned to open the door of a cramped storage compartment filled with medical tools. 

Danny pulled back, incredulous. “I’m not a wrench you can shove into a toolbox!”

Knockout gestured toward the door. "Well, unless you want Megatron to crush you beneath his pede, I suggest you pretend to be one. The Nemesis has a strict no-pets-allowed policy!" 

Before Danny could argue further, Knockout shoved him into the compartment and slammed the door shut. Danny’s muffled protests were cut off, leaving him crammed inside with barely enough room to move. He sighed, crossing his arms and leaning back before suddenly remembering that he was half-ghost. Tuning to his invisibility and intangibility, he poked his head through the door to watch the scene unfold.

Knockout turned back around to face the door, his optics darting to Danny’s experiments still laid out on the counter. He grabbed a cloth and hastily tossed it over the setup, barely concealing the beakers and glowing ectoplasm before the medbay doors slid open with a hiss.

Megatron strode in, his bright optics cold and calculating, sweeping the room. Danny felt a shiver run down his spine. Knockout stiffened immediately, his usual confidence replaced with a strained smile. 

“Ah, Lord Megatron!” Knockout greeted, his voice a touch too high. “What brings you to the medbay today? Not another injury with the Autobots, I hope?"

Megatron stepped closer. “I was informed that repairs on several warriors have been delayed,” he said, his tone sharp. “What excuse do you have this time, Knockout?” He sounded almost bored. Danny felt slightly uneasy.

Danny hadn’t had the chance to be around Megatron often. The Cons constantly tried to keep him as far away from the warlord as possible for fear of what he might do.

Knockout’s smile faltered, and he scrambled for a response. “Delays? Oh, no delays, my lord. Simply… prioritizing! Yes, prioritizing critical systems over minor repairs. We need our strongest soldiers at optimal condition, after all.” 

Megatron’s optics narrowed, his gaze piercing. “You seem… tense, Knockout. Is there something you’re hiding?”

Knockout forced out a laugh, his plating visibly tightening. “Me? Hiding something? Perish the thought, My Lord. I’m merely… under pressure, as always. This medbay doesn’t run itself, you know.”

Danny shifted slightly, accidentally knocking against a metal tray. He cursed under his breath, glancing back up at the two of them. Megatron’s head snapped toward the noise, his optics narrowing. Danny’s eyes widened as he felt Megatron staring right at him. He pulled back slightly. The warlord took a step in the direction of the noise.

Knockout’s optics widened as Megatron got closer to Danny’s hiding place. He surged forward, putting himself between Megatron and the storage compartment. “Ah, that? Just some unstable tools rattling around. I’ve been meaning to fix that. Medbay maintenance is so unpredictable, wouldn’t you agree?”

Megatron paused, his optics boring into Knockout. The medic held his ground. Suddenly, Megatron looked off to the side, and Danny surmised he was listening to or reading a comm message. Finally, with a low growl, Megatron stepped back. 

“Unpredictable, indeed,” he said coldly. “I would expect nothing less from you, Knockout.” He started turning toward the exit. "Unfortunately, I have some matters to attend to elsewhere. We will have to finish this conversation at a later date."

Megatron left the medbay with heavy footfalls, and finally, the doors slid shut behind him, leaving the medbay in tense silence.

Knockout slumped against the storage unit, relief flooding his field as he let down his mental shields. He then spun around and slammed open the compartment, catching Danny as he tumbled out.

“That was close,” Danny said, brushing himself off.

Knockout glared at him. “Too close. Next time, try not to knock over half the medbay while you’re hiding.”

Danny smirked. "Aww, it’s like you care."

Knockout scoffed and turned away, his optics flicking over the human one more before heading back to his work.

-

Danny perched on Steve’s shoulder as the Vehcion mined at a vein of energon with a handheld drill. Sitting on Vehicon’s shoulders while they worked was now a common place you could find Danny. It was more fun than reading datapads in Starscream’s room anyway. Danny swayed a bit with Steve’s movements but didn’t fall once. The con was careful not to move too quickly, which was thoughtful.

Suddenly, Danny’s attention was drawn to F-368, one of the other Vehicons Danny didn't know too well. He knelt beside a large, hulking energon drill. One of the panels opened as the mech tinkered with the machine, muttering to himself as he worked. Danny’s curiosity flared. He hopped off Steve’s shoulder with practiced ease, landing on the rocky ground with a light thud. Steve glanced down at Danny to check if he was okay before Danny waved him off.

“What’s wrong with the drill?” Danny asked, appearing next to F-368. 

F-368 startled, visor tilting towards the tiny human next to him. After realizing who it was, he turned back to his work. “It’s… just a calibration issue,” he explained.

Danny got closer and put his hands against the drill's frame, trying to get a closer look at the mechanisms. “Huh, I can work on you guys all day, but this is still a loss to me. Can you show me how it works?”

F-368 hesitated, looking the human up and down again as if considering it is a good idea. A sigh echoed through his vocalizer as he started explaining. “The torque alignment in the additional rotator is off. I’m resetting the—"

Before he could finish his sentence, a mechanical sliding noise echoed from across the mine. The elevator platform was descending. “Scrap,” muttered one of the Vehicons, who immediately straightened up to look busy.

Roddie glanced around the mine frantically to try to spot Danny. He quickly saw Danny with F-368 and sent a com message: " F-368, hide the human.”

F-368 didn’t need to be told twice. He reached down next to him and snatched Danny up, standing at attention while pulling the human behind his back out of sight. 

“Human,” F-368 hissed, his voice low. “Stay still.” 

The elevator platform ground to a halt, and heavy footfalls echoed through the mine. Megatron entered the chamber, his massive frame looming over everyone.

Every Vehicon in the mine stood at attention, their movements stiff with fear. Even the ever-talkative Steve clamped his mouth shut.

F-368’s plating tightened as Megatron’s piercing optics swept over the mine. Danny, still hidden behind the Vehicon’s frame. He peeked out just enough to catch a glimpse of the towering warlord, and he immediately regretted it.

Megatron stalked forward, his gaze passing over the workers like a predator scanning for weakness. When his optics fell on F-368, the Vehicon tensed further, his servos twitching slightly, making Danny grip his fingers harder for support.

Megatron stopped.

His gaze bore into F-368, catching the slight stiffness in his frame and the way his shoulders seemed to hunch ever so slightly.

“Is there a problem, drone?” Megatron’s voice was low and dangerous.

F-368’s spark nearly seized. “N-No, Lord Megatron,” he stammered. “Just—focusing on recalibrating the drill, my lord. The—uh—output has been… inconsistent.”

Danny could feel the bot trembling slightly. He pressed himself tighter against F-368’s back, hoping to give him comfort in some way.

Megatron’s optics narrowed. He stepped closer, his massive frame looming over the smaller Con. Danny noticed how all optics were on them now. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Roddie shift on his pedes and send a worried glance to his partner C-27.

The silence stretched, suffocating.

Finally, with a low growl, Megatron stepped back. “See that the issue is resolved. I expect no further delays.”

“Yes, Lord Megatron,” F-368 said quickly, his voice strained.

Megatron looked over a few more things in the mine before returning to the elevator. As soon as the sound of the elevator faded, the entire mine seemed to release a collective sigh of relief. F-368 slumped forward, his servos shaking slightly.

Danny jumped out of his servo and onto the drill again, looking over the equipment. “So… you were saying something about rotator alignment?” 

F-368 stared at him incredulously for a long moment before sighing and continuing his explanation. Danny noticed that his servos still shook slightly. He frowned at this, but let himself get absorbed in learning about the new equipment.

-

The flight back to the Nemesis was peaceful—something Starscream rarely experiences these days. The human had been in his Cockpit throughout the journey and had made some not-unwelcome company. Starscream was finally starting to enjoy the human's idle chatter—not that he would ever admit that out loud. 

The large outer doors opened and he landed in the Nemesis’ landing bay. Starscream transformed with his usual grace, stretching his wings after the journey. The movement was smooth, and Danny ended up in his servo.

Starscream glanced at the human in his palm and let out an amused hum; a rare sense of calm settled over him. “Another dull mission complete.” He rolled his optics.

“Yeah, well, let's submit these locations to Soundwave before he gets annoyed.” Danny smiled.

“I guess we should,” Starscream smirked but froze at the sound of heavy pede steps.

Megatron.

Danny must have heard it too because he muttered to himself with a sigh, “Great. This guy again.”

Starscream’s optics widened, and panic coursed through him. “Quiet!” He hissed.

Without another word, Starscream’s chest plate transformed open, and with a quick motion, he shoved the human into his subspace compartment. Danny let out a surprised yelp as he was unceremoniously tossed inside.

Just as Starscream snapped his chest plate shut, the doors across the bay slid open. Megatron’s looming figure entered the room. Starscream hiked his wings up on his back as a show of false confidence.

“Starscream,” Megatron said, his voice a low rumble. “Where were you today?”

Starscream forced his expression to neutral, though tension buzzed through every joint in his frame. “Ah, Lord Megatron. I was simply scouting potential energon deposits as per… Soundwave’s request.”

Megatron’s optics narrowed. He circled Starscream slowly. “And yet, you return after such a long time. Were you preoccupied with something?”

Starscream’s wings twitched. He maybe took a bit longer of a route than he should have. But that shouldn’t matter. “I was merely taking more detailed scans. I intended to report them for further analysis—”

“ Excuses, ” Megatron growled, cutting him off and stepping forward with a clenched servo.

Starscream stiffened. His plating felt too tight, and his processor was spinning with anxiety. What if Megatron tried to beat him right here, in the landing bay?

…With the fragile human in his subspace. 

Starscream's spark suddenly stalled. The seeker would survive anything Megatron threw at him. But would the human? 

Though Danny could phase through things, Starscream has seen it in the past. He just hoped that the organic would be smart enough to get away rather than try to defend Starscream. That would be the worst outcome. 

The human couldn’t possibly do anything to defend him, and anything Megatron would do to the Human or him after the fact would be horrific—worse than any punishment that Starscream would have endured. Maybe if Starscream could convince the human to leave, Starscream could distract Megatron.

Starscream paused, surprising himself with the fact that he had been considering the health of the human. What was getting into him?

All those thoughts, though, he could unpack at a later time when he was not standing in front of an easily triggered aggressive warlord. 

Starscream held his servos at his sides, keeping his tone even though his spark pulsed erratically. “I assure you, Lord Megatron, the information I gathered will prove valuable.”

Megatron leaned closer, his optics narrowing. “It had better be, Starscream. Do not disappoint me again. Or there will be consequences”

With that, the warlord turned and exited the landing bay, his footsteps reverberating through the chamber.

Starscream didn’t move until the doors slid shut behind Megatron. Nothing happened? That was... strange. Beyond unusual. He vented hard before, processor spinning. He was suddenly snapped out of it when he heard the metal clang of knocking against his chest plate. He quickly opened up his chest plate again.

Danny tumbled out into his waiting servo, rubbing his head. “Geez, a little warning next time, huh?”

Starscream ignored the human’s quip and brought him closer, his optics scanning Danny with uncharacteristic care. “Are you injured?”

Danny blinked, startled by the question. “Uh, no? I’m fine. A little rattled, but nothing major.”

Starscream sighed, his frame relaxing slightly as he inspected Danny one last time before setting him on his shoulder. “Good.”

The human tilted his head, frowning. “You okay? You seem… off.”

Starscream’s wings flicked, and he averted his optics. “You’re imagining things,” he said curtly. “Now, let’s get you out of here before something else happens.”

Danny didn’t push further, but his frown deepened as Starscream strode out of the bay.

-

Tumblr Master List

[saintsandsorcery]

Illusion

I am – unfortunately- awake, so here’s some more Gale!

In the first romance scene we see Gale conjuring Mystras image. We also know that later on m, when teaching at Blackstaff Academy, his chosen fuels is illusion…

Imagine Gale in his study. There’s this thing he’s working on but - contrary to his usual talkative nature -he hasn’t told Tab about it. Obviously they try to figure out what it is and why it is occupying so much of his time recently. They tease him, show up behind him unannounced, Tav even tried to bribe Tara with treats – bit nothing gets them closer.

Eventually spring comes around. The secret has evolved into a small black box Tav isn’t allowed to open. They know he lets it sit on his desk from time to time, a little bit of revenge for their constant prying. “You’ll know soon enough,” he promises each time he sits working near it, and Tav wraps their arms around his waist from behind, leaning over his shoulder to kiss his cheek.

Tav wakes first on the morning if their anniversary, they whisper his name as they tuck a strand of chestnut hair behind his ear. It takes a while for the two to finally disentangle themselves from each other. “I should be bringing you your gift now,” he mumbles as he pulls Tav closer again and almost absentmindedly summons a mage hand.

At last the box is placed into Tavs hands. They strip if the little bow, unfold the delicate paper it is wrapped in and produce a filigree, light locket. They feel Gales arms around them, his nose buried in their hair.

Tav presses their thumb against the mechanism at it’s side and the locket snaps open. They laugh as two small figures emerge from it’s lower half. Gale and Tav, hands intertwined, on their wedding day. Tav gently lifts the locket to her line if sight as they watch the illusion of them dance across the metal. They can see the lines if his face, each hair on his head, every scar on their body, every flower woven through their hair. “How?” They ask, almost breathless as they watch their own bright smile, perfectly accurate.

“I could never forget this, my love.” He placed his hand beneath Tavs, cupping it in his palm. “I wanted to remember us like this forever.”

[curse--eater]

Drown in it. - Chapter 1

Izuku Midoriya was born with a rage.

From the moment he drew his first breath, he let it be known to all around him. He screamed, he fought, he bit, and when consciousness finally grasped him and the effects of his actions became known, his rage calmed, simmering down to a low rumble in his chest. And yet, the heat of his passion remained stronger than ever. From comic books to biology, his interests varied, and he always kept his mother on her toes when each new addiction rose to the surface. He had combed through comic books, determined to learn to draw them himself, only to one day abandon them and turn to a morbid interest in taxidermy. Each month was a different obsession, each doubling in intensity as his mother fought to keep up with her son’s demands.

That was until he had seen him.

His mother had earned tickets to see a famous composer’s performance from her job as a thank-you for doing so much overtime, and she’d dragged her reluctant son away from his slaving over pinned insects to accompany her to the opera house. Inko had dressed in her finest black dress, a single strand of pearls adorning her neck as she painted her lips red, starkly contrasting her dark green hair. She’d fussed over Izuku, combing his unruly hair this way and that until eventually, he’d stilled, letting her pull him into his Sunday best before the two departed, their front row seats allowing them a clear view to the piano on stage. Izuku was immediately entranced- the shining ivory keys drawing in his curious eyes as he sat at the edge of his seat, wiggling to get a better look. The sign outside shone brightly with the composer's name, and as anticipation gripped him, Izuku found himself whispering the name of the man; All Might.

He repeated the name over and over in his brain, feeling it out, giving weight to it, enjoying the way it stirred interest in his head. He looked down at the pamphlet in his mother’s lap, tilting his head to read it better.

‘Tonight only, Japan’s greatest composer All Might performs his unfinished manifesto; One for All, a song of love and loss.

Passed down throughout eight generations of composers, ‘One for All’ has remained unfinished for over eighty years, each new composer adding their own story and vitality into the piece whilst still carrying on the first’s hopes and dreams- for music to unite all the people of the world’

Izuku didn’t realize his mouth had fallen open until his mother tutted him, tapping his chin with a gentle finger.

“Izuku honey, close your mouth, you’ll drool on yourself,” he snapped his mouth shut, turning to his mother with a question already burning on his tongue. As if she sensed his restlessness, Inko sighed, a pained look in her eyes.

“No, honey, I can’t get you a piano. I’m afraid my job doesn’t pay me nearly enough to be able to afford one… Maybe you can find a teacher and learn from them?” she said hopefully. Izuku frowned, sinking back into his seat with a huff.

“Whatever, it’s probably gonna be lame anyways,” he pouted, kicking his legs as he sunk low in his seat. Inko sighed considering telling him off but the lowering of the auditorium lights made her eyes widen and drew her attention to the stage immediately. Even little Izuku, so determined to be indifferent to it all, sat up a little straighter as a hushed murmur rippled through the crowd. A man appeared from the edge of the stage, blonde hair a shock as his electric blue eyes scanned the crowd with a kind yet determined gaze. A moment passed in pure silence before the crowd erupted in cheers and claps, the man on the stage raising a hand to wave at the crowd as he smiled, earning a louder round of applause and screams from the audience that followed him until he sat, straightening his sheet music before him as the crowd began to settle, the room filled to the brim with anticipation as All Might rolled his shoulders, fingers poised over the keys as he waited. The moment seemed to draw on forever, and Izuku found himself trembling with anticipation before finally -finally- All Might began to play.

It was… The most beautiful melody he had ever heard. The song carried the essence of melancholy and loss along with the feelings of determination and triumph, each note ringing across the quiet auditorium and rattling inside Izuku’s brain as he stared wide-eyed at the way the man on the stage played so beautifully as if the music itself had been written into his soul and he was pouring his vitality into the notes. His face was peaceful, yet the way his brows knit together betrayed his true feelings. This was not just a song- no, it was a tribute concocted by the man before him and his predecessors, a tribute to love, to loss, to hope, to everything in the world. Izuku had no words to describe the emotions that arose in his chest, and he found his vision began to warp and waver before he blinked and tears rolled down his cheeks. He sat in stunned silence through the eight minutes of the song, his lap wet with tears his mother had failed to notice had even begun to fall in the first place as she too was entranced by the ebb and flow of the music.

After what Izuku thought was far too little time, the song finished, hanging on a note that left the audience holding their breaths waiting for more, more, more. They wanted- no, they needed more, they needed the satisfying climax of the story, they needed the certain end notes that wrapped the song up in its perfect bouquet, ready to be replicated and replayed over and over again by eager fingers and eager listeners. And yet, those notes never came. All Might’s hands moved to his lap as he took a deep breath, standing up and facing the crowd before bowing deeply. A second of stunned silence grasped the audience once more before the cheers erupted all around, weeping people leaping to their feet and screaming their praises, hands raw from clapping as they gave the man the loudest standing ovation they could muster. Izuku stood on his seat, bawling as he clapped, trying to draw the attention of the incredible man on stage as he tugged on his mother’s shoulder, pointing to the stage.

“Mama- mama he’s so cool! I wanna be just like him!” he wailed, wiping at his face furiously as he waved at the stage will all his strength. Somehow, as if a hand had pointed him out among all those faces, All Might locked eyes with Izuku. The boy’s world seemed to stop, and he broke out into a watery smile as he waved at the composer, who waved back with a kind smile on his face.

In that short exchange, that fiery rage inside izuku changed. It warped and blossomed into an intense passion, and he finally knew where it was calling to. He had searched for a piano teacher the morning after the concert, and after finding a suitable one he had begged his mother for lessons.

“What about your insect pinning…?” Inko had said with a tone of slight dismay. Izuku had rummaged through his drawer and pulled out a frame with three wonkily pinned butterflies, preserved the same way they’d been in the book his mother had gifted him.

“I only did these three, I found them in the garden and wanted to give them to you,” he had said meekly.

Inko was a strong woman, but at the sight of her son’s pleading eyes, she buckled and eventually gave in, enrolling her son in piano lessons at the class down the road. Present Studios, it was called, owned by the husbands Mr. Aizawa and Mr. Yamada. Izuku had taken a liking to the two immediately, and after the first month of practicing, that fire in him had still not given out. After the second, Inko grew anxious that the time was drawing to a close, and her son would soon find another hobby to throw himself into, but the month came and went and Izuku still powered on, as fierce and determined as ever.

A year had passed, then two, then ten, and Izuku Midoriya was now in his third and final year of high school, his passion for music had never dwindled, only grown stronger. Coincidentally, his piano teacher also happened to be teaching at UA High School, and he had been Izuku’s homeroom teacher for the last three years as well as his piano teacher for thirteen. In his world of music, Izuku had found friends who were also passionate about the subject, although never as much as him. Iida Tenya and Yaoyorozu Momo had enrolled in Mic Studios two years after he had, and he had always offered a helping hand to them despite being younger than the two. In return, the three had sparked a close friendship that extended to a fourth, Ochako Uraraka, a student who had enrolled in Mr. Yamada’s singing classes and often joined the three piano students during her breaks.

Now, Izuku was leaning over Iida’s desk, gushing about a new piece of music he’d discovered while digging through dusty vinyls.

“It’s amazing! I was always familiar with piano and violin duets but I never had thought of violin and guitar! I think Yaomomo would love this piece- I’ve been translating the guitar parts into piano so we can play with Kaminari next band practice and-” he was cut off as a book hit the back of his head, making him fall face first into Iida’s desk.

“Bakugo!” Iida barked, raising a hand over Izuku’s head “No throwing things in the classroom!”

“If that goddamned nerd stopped yapping about his shitty music then I wouldn’t have thrown it at him! Tell him to shut it!” Bakugo yelled back, rolling his eyes as Izuku glared at him.

“It’s not shitty music! Just because you can’t understand it, doesn’t mean it’s bad!”

“Izuku! Language! Don’t engage with Bakugo, you know he’s only doing this to rile you up,” Iida’s voice took a gentler tone as he ended his sentence, pushing his glasses up his nose as he peered at Izuku with a furrowed brow. Izuku tensed for a moment before exhaling loudly.

“You’re right, he doesn’t even know anything about piano, why should I-” A hand slammed onto Iida’s desk and Izuku jumped back, staring wide-eyed at Bakugo’s scowl.

“For the record, I do know a thing or two about piano, stupid Deku. My parents have been dragging me across the country to catch every single one of All Might’s piano performances every time he’s had one, and on top of that they’ve made me study the old bastard’s scores until I was seeing them in my sleep,” Izuku couldn’t help the excited grin that crossed his face.

“Wow- Kacchan, I didn’t know you were a fan of All Might too! I’ve also been to all his concerts- well, most of them, my first one was with my mom when I was little but- how did I never know this?! We’ve been friends since we were in second grade!” Bakugo rolled his eyes, shoving his hands deep in his pockets as he turned to walk back to his group of friends.

“Maybe you’re just not as attentive as you thought you were, Deku. There’s a lot about me you don’t know.”

________________________

Izuku tugged at his hair, muttering to himself as he poured over his scores. He was going to do it- today, he’d send his very own manifesto to All Might in hopes of becoming one of his students. He’d been constructing this melody over the past three years, and the tear splotches and coffee stains on the otherwise immaculate piece of paper were evidence of that. He was coming to the end, the final home stretch of his song before he could finally call it finished and sign it off, but the melodies he once couldn’t get out of his brain seemed to have escaped him. He’d spent days obsessing over the last few bars of the song, making sure it ended perfectly and resonated with the rest of his piece. Iida had tried his best to help him, even bringing in Yaoyorozu in on her breaks from her homework and afterschool lessons to try and help push Izuku in the direction of finally completing his work, but even she seemed to be running short on ideas.

“You could always have the ending be a small repeat of the first two bars with a different flair?” She offered, tugging at her silky black hair as her eyes scanned over and over his music sheets.

“I thought of that but it seems too… I don’t know, basic? I feel like that's how most songs end nowadays, I want mine to end with a bang or something that’ll make the listeners want to hear more from me instead of just being a one-and-done, y’know?” he slid down his chair a little as Yaoyorozu leaned over his desk once more, ruffling papers and tapping a pencil against her lip as she thought.

“I’m afraid I’ve got nothing then, sorry Midoriya,” she seemed to deflate as she admitted defeat slumping back in her chair as the two pianists wallowed in silence, the bitter taste of defeat hanging thick on their tongues. The door opened a crack and Iida stepped in, carrying a tray of steaming tea and some pastries he’d baked earlier that day. Yaoyorozu seemed to light up as she saw him in the doorway, a gentle blush coating her cheeks as he set the tray down on a vacant table nearby, drawing a chair and motioning for Izuku and Yaoyorozu to join him.

“Any luck?” he said to Izuku, wrapping an arm around Yaoyorozu’s waist as she waltzed over to him, placing a peck on the top of his head as she poured herself some tea with a quiet ‘thank you’ to him.

“Nope. I feel like I’m running around in circles…Nothing I come up with sounds satisfying enough, and out of all the endings I’ve written none of them seem good enough to warrant me a place as one of All Might’s students!” Izuku’s voice was strained as he vented his frustrations, staring at the paper with exhaustion dripping from his body.

“Maybe you should take a break for a few days, come back, and then review it after a while and see if any new ideas have sprung into your head. That usually works for me when I’ve been stuck on a paper,” As always, Iida was the voice of reason among the three of them. Yaoyorozu sighed, drawing a stool from nearby beside Iida’s chair, and leaned her head on his shoulder, chewing on her cinnamon roll thoughtfully.

“I think Tenya’s right, as always. It could always be helpful to take a break and go do something random- who knows, it might help you think better and give you some better ideas,” she offered, which earned an approving nod from Iida.

Izuku sighed “Fine. I’ll take a break… but not for too long! The deadline is in a month, and I still need to run through it a few times to make sure the chord progressions flow nicely, and to double and triple check my notes are on the correct lines and I haven’t written them in the wrong place… Oh, and I forgot to put a few rest and repeats-” his speech turned into incoherent mumbling as he turned back to his score, grabbing a pencil and eraser and beginning to scribble some things and erase others. Iida and Yaoyorozu shared a look, then the pair turned back to Midoriya.

“Izuku. You need to take a break starting now. Come have some tea, I’ve been teaching Tenya how to brew it properly to a lady’s liking,” she said, accompanied by a smug smirk as she grabbed her teacup, sticking her pinky out as she sipped her tea. Iida couldn’t help but roll his eyes at his girlfriend, reaching over and pouring a cup for both him and Midoriya.

“Here. It’s chamomile, I figured you two needed something to calm you since you’ve been slaving away in here for the last two weeks,” he offered a cup to Izuku, who took it gratefully, staring into the contents for a few moments before speaking again.

“Hey- Iida, you did piano with us up until third year. Have you got any ideas as to how I could finish this?” Iida thought for a moment before shaking his head.

“I’m afraid not. All the ideas I had I offered to ‘Rozu… Although I might know someone who could have an idea-”

“I am not asking Kacchan.” Izuku interrupted with a glare “He made it very clear we’re academic rivals now- he’s also trying to be All Might’s student, and he said if I so much as breathed near his sheet music he’d hang me with a piano string and use my blood to write his next score,” Iida and Yaoyorozu grimaced at the threat.

“Well, that’s Bakugo for you- as crude and mean as ever,” Yaoyorozu mumbled into her cup, taking a long sip.

“He’s not that bad usually! He’s just very…competitive, y’know? We’re both fans of All Might, so I understand him not wanting to risk his chances- I don’t blame him!” the couple in front of him shared a long, knowing look before turning back to him.

“Sure… well um, I hope this… ‘friendly rivalry’ of yours doesn’t result in you helping Bakugo out without letting us know,” Yaoyorozu raised an eyebrow at Midoriya, and he chuckled nervously.

“What?! When have I… haha… ever done that?”

“For the sake of both my mental health and your physical well-being, I’m going to choose to ignore that. But seriously, Izuku,” she picked up the final piece of his sheet music, scanning her eyes over it and chewing her lip in thought, “I think you should keep this to yourself- all of it, okay?”

She made to slide the paper back onto the desk before she paused, eyes widening.

“Oh! I’ve had an idea-” she shot up, almost knocking her teacup to the floor as she set it down on the desk with a loud clatter. Swiping a pencil from behind Izuku’s ear, she scribbled a few notes down before holding the paper up, a victorious grin on her face as she flipped the paper around to Tenya and Izuku, showing them-

“It just…ends?” Tenya said with mild confusion, adjusting his glasses as he leaned forward.

“Yeah, it ends so suddenly-” Izuku hummed the notes on the last few bars, envisioning himself on the piano before he paused, eyes as wide as saucers as he leaped from his chair.

“Yaomomo you genius!” he laughed, setting his cup down and throwing his arms around her in a tight embrace, “An abrupt ending!! An homage to All Might’s ‘One for All, 8th movement’!” He took the paper from her delicately, eyes scanning over and over the page before he raced to the piano tucked away in the corner of the room, setting the paper up and playing the final page, the grin on his face widening with pride as his hands stilled.

“It's perfect!” he laughed, brushing his hair back as he collected the page again and added it to the rest of his score “Yaoyorozu I owe you my life- if I get this internship I’ll forever be in your debt-” she waved him off, cheeks red.

“It’s nothing! I’m sure you would’ve thought of it too if you weren’t so stressed-” Izuku shook his head, bowing at the waist before shooting back up, the familiar spark back in his eyes as he rocked back and forth on his feet.

“No no please- I’ll make sure to credit you and Iida accordingly once I hand this in- speaking of, I’ve got to do that now! The post office closes soon and I have work tomorrow with Mr. Aizawa- I’ll see you two later!” he scooped up his papers and bag and before Yaoyorozu or Iida had the chance to process his words, Izuku was out the door running as if his life depended on it- and it might as well have. Izuku thought he’d die if he didn’t make it to the post office in time, and thanks to his preparation, all other parts of his application had already been filled out and slotted inside the envelope tucked in his bag.

He folded his sheet music after looking over it longingly once more, hands shaking with excitement as he slid it into the too-thick envelope and licked the letter closed, waving to the security guard at the front of the post office as he slowed to a walk, sweat beading his forehead.

“Just in time, Midoriya,” Vlad huffed, pulling his hat over his eyes as he leaned against the wall “We’re closed for the next three days for renovations, so just put your letter in the box and it’ll be sent out tomorrow morning,”

“Thank you, Mister Vlad!” Izuku tried steadying his breathing as he walked towards the red box, glancing down at his envelope once more. Izuku was startled as he collided with someone, apologies already flowing from his mouth before he even made eye contact with the stranger.

“Jesus- watch it you damn ex- Deku?! What the hell are you doing here?” Bakugo barked, face already twisted in a scowl as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Oh! Kacchan! I was just um- sending a letter!” Izuku said quickly, side-stepping Bakugo and sliding his letter into the red postage box before stepping away “For the um… All Might apprenticeship-”

A laugh ripped from Bakugo, one so loud it made Izuku jump as the blonde wiped away a tear from his eye.

“Oh that's rich, you think you can get the spot to study with the All Might? You really are a moron, Deku. A loser like you doesn’t know a natural from a crotchet, what makes you think your stupid music is gonna be enough?” Izuku clenched his fists stepping away from Bakugo.

“I’ve spent the last three years perfecting this- if All Might doesn’t think it's good, then I’ll try again and again until it’s good enough for him. I don’t care if I don’t get the apprenticeship, as long as he’s seen my music, that’s good enough for me.” It was a bald-faced lie, and Izuku wondered if, for a moment, Bakugo saw through his deception. If he did, the blond didn’t let on and instead just scoffed.

“You… Get out of my sight, damned extra,” Bakugo turned on his heel and stormed away, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Good luck to you too, Kacchan,” Izuku said to his back, rolling his eyes as he turned and began his walk home. His mama would be so proud once he told her of his (and his friends’) success with the score. He played the score over and over in his brain as he trudged home, arriving at his street before he even processed his surroundings.

As Izuku neared his front door, he noticed a plain letter on the front step. Curious, he picked it up and turned it over, eyes widening as he saw it was addressed to him. He glanced around, frowning lightly as he walked inside, kicking his shoes off by the front door as he walked towards the living room.

“Izuku! Welcome home, honey!” Inko greeted, leaning up to peck his cheek before she scurried past him, pulling on a pair of shoes and a coat “I’ve got an urgent work meeting to attend so I won’t be home until later tonight, but I’ve fixed you up something for dinner. Make sure you do your homework, and lock the door once I leave! Love you Izuzu!” she was out the door a second later, leaving a confused Izuku standing in his living room alone with a letter in his hands. He turned the lock on the front door and turned back to walk to his room, eyes glued on the letter as he kicked his bedroom door shut. He pulled out a letter opened from his drawer (courtesy of Yaoyorozu- one of the many strange gifts he’d been given by her, albeit a very practical one) and sliced open the top of the letter, withdrawing the page from within.

He frowned. The letter was typed out, and the handwriting on the back of it was far too neat and formal to resemble any of his friends’ handwriting. Izuku began reading, and he felt himself turning redder with each sentence.

Dear Izuku,

First of all; Hi. I’m aware that this letter could be seen as odd, but I didn’t know how else to approach you. Truth be told, I’ve been in love with you for a long time now. I’ve admired your passion for everything from a distance for quite a while, but in the same way you’ve fallen in love with chasing your dream of being a composer, I’ve fallen in love with the boy in front of me. You’re kind; something a lot of people nowadays seem to be unable to be, and your kindness extends even to people who’ve wronged you or done you harm. I’m not sure how else to describe it but you have a pure soul, Izuku, and it's evident from the way you smile, but also in the pieces of music you write. They’re so full of life and energy and passion, and every time I walk past the band or music rooms and hear you play I feel my heart skip a beat. I wish I had the courage to say this to your face, but I’m afraid that if you knew who I was you’d hate me. For now, this is the most courage I can muster up- I hope that’s okay.

Good luck with your application for the internship, I believe in you. ♡

Your secret admirer~

Izuku stared at the letter dumbfounded, blinking rapidly as he read it over and over again. Someone… liked him? Someone liked him enough to send him an anonymous love letter.

He was calling Yaoyorozu before he knew it.

“Midoriya? What’s up, have you handed in you-”

“Someone just sent me a love letter. An anonymous one.”

“Someone WHAT,”