#five tags is still enough to keep this out of the main tag

[malachitezmeyka]

Violently swinging between still wanting to write that "Kuvira talks Suiren down from her manic cleaning spree" fic and not wanting to just rehash what I've written before/fearing I won't do it justice/genuinely scared of triggering myself again because I sink deeper and deeper with every breakdown

[manicmanuscription]

Selfishly Late

This is the the second part to unapologetically selfish!!

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 1554

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, suggestive, possessive Azriel.

Summary: Azriel has you running a little late to your introduction with his family. But he just can't seem to keep his hands off you.

A/N: I have literally rewrote this piece like five fucking times no joke. It's still not perfect in my eyes and there's definitely going to be a part three but I needed to post this before I went insane.

Thank you all for your patience I love you <3

acotar masterlist | main masterlist

You took one last look in the mirror before scoffing. 

Azriel had absolutely covered you in hickies. On any inch of skin he could reach, paying extra attention to your throat and collarbones. You gave him a pointed glare as he finished dressing behind you in the mirror but he was too busy fixing the cuff of his sleeves to notice. With a roll of your eyes you reached down for the scarf, draping it over your neck and brushing your hair back from underneath. 

“What do you think you’re doing?”  Azriel asked, slightly appalled as you adjusted your scarf and hair to cover some of the more egregious bruises.

He crossed the room in a few strides before standing directly behind you as you sat at your vanity. You didn’t even have a chance to respond before he pulled the scarf away from your neck gently and pinned your hair up with the jeweled metal hairpin he had gotten you last year as a birthday present, perfectly showing off the hickies.

“Azriel!” You exclaimed, turning in your seat to face him and his eyes gleamed at the yellowing dots decorating your bare skin. “I can not show up to your family’s house like this!” 

His brows furrowed slightly, the only sign of confusion you’d read off the usually stoic male. “But you look so pretty like this my love.” He murmured, reaching down and brushed his fingertips against the tender skin, his breath tickling your ear as he pressed another biting kiss to the juncture of your throat. 

Everyone told you once a mating bond snapped the males got unusually possessive, of course you believed them but Azriel was something on a whole different level. When you first met him he explained Illyrians were more territorial, all the instincts heightened. You couldn’t remember the exact sciences on it why but it made you feel so safe, loved and incredibly turned on. 

You gave him an exasperated look through the mirror, one he promptly ignored. His hands curling tighter around your shoulders. This had been going on for years. Every attempt at an introduction was thwarted by Azriel’s skilled persuasive abilities and intoxicating touch.

You did your best to stay strong this time, trying to ignore the way your entire being electrified at his close proximity, sparks running along every expanse of skin he touched. Your toes curled and you let out a soft breathy moan. One that Azriel had still heard and a victorious smile graced his lips. He hid his face in your neck so you didn’t see it. 

But you still did and it was enough to -barely- break you out of his spell. You stood up out of your chair and he rose to full height with you, towering over you slightly. “Azriel!” You reprimanded. “We are going to be late.”  

“We’re already late, what’s an extra five minutes?” He smirked, his shadows swirling around his shoulders as if in agreement. You scoffed, letting out a few curses under your breath. He had been pulling this all morning. 

You didn’t have to be a Spymaster to know Azriel was dragging his feet, first holding you tighter in bed so he could keep using your stomach as a pillow, spilling coffee on the outfit you’d picked out so you’d have to spend another 15 minutes trying to create a new one and now this hickey situation.  

You knew the High Lord or Lady was yelling at him too if any of the occasional winces and rubbing his temples were anything to go by. 

“I’m going to be making such a bad impression already!” You protested, holding your palm out for your clothing back. “Now give me my scarf so we can go please.” 

Azriel just looked at the light brown fabric still wrapped in his hands as if it committed a grievous act against him. “You’re so obsessed with this scarf.” 

You groaned, this time you were the one soothing your head with your fingertips. You knew he struggled when you were gone for long periods of time, both of your work schedules making it endlessly hard to actually have time to be husband and wife, mates, and life partners it drove you crazy too but you’d have to find a compromise because there was no way you were showing up to the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court’s estate covered in hickies. 

You told him as much and he paused, finally noticing your nerves of the event. Years after missed dates and scheduling conflicts and getting distracted by Azriel’s sly touch was all coming to an end, you were finally meeting his family, it loomed over your head and nerves pumped violently through your bloodstream.

It was a bittersweet feeling and you just wanted everything to go well, Azriel wouldn’t stop talking about how amazing his family was. His love for them ran deep and if they somehow didn’t like you….

Azriel begrudgingly passed the scarf over, your comfortability and safety would always come first and he tamped down those raging instincts telling him to whisk you and mark you more thoroughly and reclaim you over and over again especially after your long time apart. He instead pressed a comforting kiss to your forehead.

“Don’t worry love, we are completely mild compared to the crazy shit I’ve seen or heard my brother’s get into with their mates.” He shuddered and you laughed a little bit, pressing yourself closer to him so you could give him a quick hug and a soft peck to his lips, hearing a mumbled “Gods you’re killing me.”  Before sitting back down at your vanity. He sent a wave of reassurance through the bond and you returned it. You've dined with High Lord’s before this would be fine, you were fine. It had to be fine. 

“He’s not coming.” Mor said with finality. Looking over at the golden watch on Amren’s wrist. “I mean they were supposed to be here thirty minutes ago.” The ancient female pulled her hand away from the blonde sharply, giving her an even harsher look of disdain.

Cassian eyed the clock nervously and shot Mor a warning glare. It was incredibly important to him that this went well, you were a major part in his brother’s life and he wanted to not only make a good impression but also make sure you were good enough for Azriel, he recognized it as a silly thought you’d been mated for many years (unbeknownst to him) -and he’d definitely be having some words with Azriel about not being there for his mating ceremony later- but he wanted to make sure Azriel felt loved and cherished, taken care of with all the shit he’d already been through in his lifetime. 

Rhysand just let out a soft sigh, swirling the orange juice in his glass, desperately wishing it was something stronger. He’d assumed his dear brother would be late based on his previous patterns and the little reunion they’d witnessed last night but not this late and he was giving the Spymaster five more minutes before he winnowed the entire family, and their dining table to his living room torches all ablaze and pitchforks raised.

Although he couldn’t help but let out a soft smile at the thought of the usual strict and punctual Shadowsinger was willing to abandon his rigid routine for someone. 

“He’ll be here.” Feyre assured on her mate’s behalf, although her own confidence in him was waning, he did have a habit of simply not showing up when an introduction was planned. 

“You’re sure the female you saw wasn’t an illusion or a paid actress or-?” Mor started but suddenly the lighting in the room dimmed, shadows moving briefly across the edges of the floorboards before the sunlight streamed through the windows once again. An unfamiliar female’s voice rang throughout the large house as she laughed and Cassian’s heart flooded with relief at the sound, anxiety simultaneously  pumping in his chest, he wanted everything to go perfectly.

 “-are absolutely ridiculous.” ���Yeah, yeah.” The shadowsinger muttered, the leftover pieces of conversation barely reaching the Inner Circle’s ears. 

Two sets of footsteps echoed across the floorboards, getting closer and closer to the dining room.

 Mor whispered a shocked. “No way.” Another step. “No way.” Another step. “No way.” 

She whispered it after every movement made until finally the couple came into view, standing in the open doorway and she couldn’t even make a sound, her mouth dropping at the sight of you. 

There was a few stunned moments of silence. 

The Inner Circle was staring at you as if you were a foreign creature and you shifted a little bit under their gaze, your mate had prepared you for an endless stream of questions but not the wide eyes and open mouths although you guess it was to be expected and Azriel tightened his hold on your shoulders protectively. 

“Surely you have better manners than this?” He bit out a little harsher than originally meant after a few more uncomfortable moments of stillness. 

You gave them a bright smile and a timid wave, breaking them out of their trance and all of a sudden they erupted with movement pulling you in for hugs and shaking your hands. Not so subtly inspecting you all the while bombarding you with questions.

This was going to be quite the breakfast. 

divider by @strangergraphics-archive

[haikyu-mp4]

Wrong team – Kageyama x reader wc 986 – f!reader, brother!Atsumu, brother!Osamu

Being a student could be difficult, but being a student in Osaka and Osamu Miya’s little sister had its perks. Osamu hired you quite quickly after you graduated from high school, letting you work part-time at the restaurant, which also meant you were his favourite employee to bring for job excursions.

Like this huge one, where your other brother and his team were playing against the Schweiden Adlers.

You practically bounced as you walked past the banners when entering the arena a couple of hours before the game was set to start. Chatting away with Osamu on how you thought the teams would play, the two of you enjoyed setting up the stall and preparing everything to hopefully sell a bunch of delicious onigiri.

“Okay, ya did good. Ya get…” Osamu checked his wrist watch, humming under his breath before smiling up at you again. “Fifteen minutes to roam around, then I need ya back here.”

“Thanks!” you squealed and high-fived him quickly before running off, still wearing your complete uniform. Osamu had told you it was better to keep it on so that no one thought you had snuck in, so you even had the cap and name tag on.

You first ventured around the halls for a bit, nervous to approach the actual court where you could hear them warming up. However, the nervousness eventually couldn’t stop you from peeking inside.

There they are, the gorgeous Schwe- oops, surely you mean the Black Jackals?

Smiling sheepishly to yourself, you slowly crept inside the main arena to observe. Just as you found Atsumu, he seemed to catch a break and ran off towards Osamu’s stand, probably to check if everything was okay. You frowned, wondering if you should turn back so you could wish him good luck before-

“Hi.”

It felt like your heart jumped right out of your chest at the unexpected company, eyes snapping to the Kageyama Tobio standing there with a volleyball tucked between his elbow and waist. In an attempt to hide that you had to catch your breath, you cleared your throat and adjusted your hat. “Hey! Ready for the game?”

That was smooth enough. Good job.

“Getting there, it’s our turn for warm-ups on the court in about a minute,” he told you casually. Clearly, he wasn’t aware of your clammy hands and burning ears.

“I’ll be cheering for ya! From the food stands,” you told him with an awkward chuckle.

Kageyama walked closer to you, leaning in to look at your name tag and the logo on your shirt. His eyes seemed to brighten, and you felt entranced with their oceans. “Thank you. I might have to come get some onigiri if you have any left after the game… and the signing… and the press meeting.”

You chuckled more genuinely this time, charmed by how he got more and more dejected at the realisation that he might not have the time to get onigiri today. “If yer ever back in town, ya could always swing by. We’d be happy to serve ya, maybe even add yer photo to the wall of fame.”

“Speaking of, shouldn’t you be cheering for the other team? With that last name on your shirt.” Your heart once again tried to kill you as it did a double take with Kageyama’s surprisingly cheeky comment.

“I’ll have ya know it’s not just on ma’ shirt-”

“Y/N?!”

You sighed, a headache already forming at Atsumu’s heavy footsteps. “I just came to tell ya good luck, Tsum.”

Atsumu glanced at Kageyama, who seemed to take the hint and gave you a little bow before gathering with his team to start warming up their attacks. You waved him goodbye before getting pulled back by Atsumu, all the way back to Osamu’s stall.

“It’s yer responsibility when we’re here that no Adlers get close to her,” Atsumu instructed to deaf ears. Osamu was too busy readying the register and simply waved him off. “She’s our baby sister- ow!”

After you threw a solid punch at his arm, he finally let go of you so you could return to your spot behind the stall. “Cringe,” Osamu commented, making you nod in agreement.

“I’m barely two years younger than ya.”

After Atsumu made his way back to his team, you barely had a spare minute to think much about your interaction with Kageyama. A lot of people came to watch, including several old friends of yours from Inarizaki, so you sold a lot of food before the game started and held a conversation or two to catch up where you could.

About ten minutes into the game, the line finally dispersed as everyone got back to their seats to watch the best game of the season. “Tsumu’s up to serve,” you mumbled as if Osamu wasn’t watching the same thing.

The serve was great, but Hoshiumi was on it, getting the ball up for Kageyama in a tough spot. You clutched your hands together as you watched in anticipation, ultimately cheering when the set led to Schweiden Adlers’ point. Osamu placed a hand on your head, pushing your cap down over your face. “Wrong team, idiot.”

Osamu hadn’t actually taken any of Atsumu’s allegations seriously, but maybe he should have. That’s what he thought when he watched Kageyama walk inside his restaurant one evening, hands tucked deep in his pockets and looking around like he wasn’t there for him.

“Welcome to Onigiri Miya. How can I help ya?”

“I was hoping-” Kageyama’s eyes trailed from the kitchen behind Osamu and back to him, a small pout on his lips. “I’ll just have today’s special.”

“So yer the Adler my brother warned me about, tsk tsk.” Osamu shook his head and sighed as if this took years off his life. “I’ll get her.”

Atsumu will be livid when he hears about this, Osamu thought, and that was always his greatest motivation.

masterlist

requested by @livelaughlovetoru for my event, anything for you <3 I changed your idea a little to my preference, but I hope it’s still enjoyable!

[starconstruction]

Fives a Party

Wonyoung + Gaeul + Rei + Liz x Male Reader (Smut)

smut tags: ass eating, pussy eating, 69, feet kink, spitroasting, creampies, face painting, blowjob, fivesome, fsub, fdom, mdom, multiple orgasms, anal, riding, daddy kink, mommy kink, breeding

Word Count 3525, not proof read

this one was quite difficult but a lot of fun, hope u enjoy.

Being a manager for a kpop group is awfully stressful, keeping up with every little detail that makes the success and safety of these 6 girls. It was certainly worth it, the wage was adequate enough to support your family but that wasn't the main reward.

The main reward laid under you, cock thoroughly buried inside Liz's cunt as she squeezed under you skin slapping as you used her body. The girls used you for their pleasure as "paying you back." Well everyone except Leeso that would be weird.

"Hm! Gonna cum Daddy!" Liz gasped, you kept slapping into her crotch reveling in the pleasure of her wanton body. You had a personal preference to which girl you liked to fuck, Liz was second. Thrusting in and out as she let out loud sinful screams.

You filled her up not long after, leaving her full of your load as she laid there, smiling as she came down from her high, "Thanks daddy, I'm going to clean up this filth..." And she left, as casual as that.

-

The next morning you had some promotion at a music show to attend, waking the girls up was the hardest task of them all. A nuclear bomb could detonate and they would care less, you felt depleted as well at this daily task.

Liz woke up easily enough, probably still content with the fucking from yesterday, sometimes they would withhold waking up if you hadn't given them enough attention recently, they were utterly ridiculous but you loved it. "Wake up Leeso for me, god this task is frustrating.." You asked Liz, happily complying as she walked off.

The rest were all equally as frustrating as each other, having to literally yank them out of bed. But finally after a long 40 minutes everyone was up.

"God you girls are so annoying, go get ready we are leaving in like 2 hours." You said tiredly.

You sat in the living room, scrolling on your phone absently when a minor tug grabbed at your shirt. It was Rei, fully naked as her smooth skin caught your eye. Her eyes looked into yours seductively, the room heated with tension while her hand lifted your chin.

"Y/N!! I'm soooo stressed, may you help me with that?" Her voice was unconvincing, faux stress leaking from her lips as she got closer, her body wash smelt strongly of strawberries as you breathed her in.

"I don't buy that for a second, Rei." You said, humouring her as her finger rubbed your lips.

"Hush, you know I'm full of it.." Rei pressed her breasts against your chest, hand rubbing against your hair as her nails raked into your scalp. Her presence made your breath stop, Rei ranked the lowest in your list but it is really really close.

Her lips bit into your ear morphing into a smile, breath tickling you while you gulped. "Are you really going to reject eating my ass? You were begging for it last week.." She reminded you, the images of you on your knees filled your brain. You knew she'd already won, she knew she'd already won.

"Fine Rei, I guess you won." You choked, words an uphill battle as she was so close to you.

"Yay!" Rei pulled you up, hand embraced each other as Rei brought you to her bedroom, walking past Gaeul as she shot Rei a knowing look. Probably because she's naked.

Rei's room matched her personality, a bit disorderly. Clothes laid everywhere, the scent of her expensive air freshener was always pleasant, it helped to hide the sinful scent of sex. She had a few bottles of water on her desk, but those werent the focus of your attention. The focus of your attention laid comfortable in the middle of her bed.

Rei's body faced away from you, face turned towards the wall as she gave you ample access to her holes, one laid slick with arousal as it tempted you. But that wasn't what either of you were interested in.

Your body found it's way Inbetween her legs that spread automatically for you, beckoning you forth. Something you were more than willing to oblige, tongue licking against her asscheeks as you teased her. Caressing the flesh as you savoured the supple flesh, Rei had an amazing ass. Easily your favourite out of all the ones you've had experience with.

"Do you have to tease me every time?" Rei whined, you two were tempting fate by doing this so close to the schedule, but if she wants it she'll get it.

You ignored her, continuing your voyage into the wonderful body of Rei, kissing and nipping every part of her cheeks, avoiding her awaiting hole that looked oh so inviting, reveling in those desperate whines.

You'd tease Rei for hours had the clock not been working against you, finally giving into her desires as your tongue worked on her asshole, rimming the spongy flesh as Rei moaned out. "Such a good tongue, keep going!" She moaned into her bed.

You breathed in her body wash once more, nose pressed against her back as you tongued her crack, dribbling saliva into her hole as you feasted on Rei.

"Hm so eager.. You are always the best manager!" She praised, hands clawing into her fabric.

A voice called out from behind you two, Gaeul, you paid her no mind as you kept licking. "You two have like 20 minutes and she has to get ready, eat that whores ass quicker please!" She called out, evidently frustrated as she left.

You got the memo, hand finding her clit in support. Her mouth fully covered in her pillow as muffled screeches caught dead in their track. Rei's slick coated your fingers as you brought her to her explosive orgasm. Your tongue not stopping until her high ceased.

"You're welcome Rei." You teased, slapping her firm ass one time "Now get ready, you have 17 minutes."

-

You drove the girls towards the venue, they had a conversation about something you couldn't hear, frequent giggles came from behind you where they sat. But it wasn't worth paying attention to, focused on the road.

The drive was short enough, dropping the girls off as you sat in the car. Playing various things on your phone as you bode your time, the girls texting you random shit every now and then before their performance.

You watched the performance from your phone, legs kicked up as they kicked ass as usual, certainly one of their best songs. Smiling involuntarily as they danced energetically. The crowd yelled on they finished their song.

The girls clambered back into the desolate van as their voices were much less loud, the previous energy completely drained through the dance. "Kick ass performance, you guys!" You said, handing them all a bottle of water as they shared thanks.

The rest of the drive was entirely silent, save for the soft hum from the radio.

-

You were laid down on your bed, a long day had passed but it was about to get so much more tiring. A single text came from Wonyoung, "Come to my room I think you'll like what is happening" Her text peaked your interest, rushing over to her bedroom.

The sight surprised you, Rei, Liz and Gaeul acting as eager whores licking Wonyoung's soles, fighting for space as their tongues danced on her feet. Wonyoung had a pleased smile on her face, watching the other members try their hardest to please their queen.

Wonyoung looked at you, eyes piercing yours as she sized you up, room filled with a strong aura of lust. "You look a bit overdressed for my room, strip." Wonyoung demanded, voice filled with authority.

You were so invested in Wonyoung's feet you didn't even realise everyone laid naked, a row of cunts laid in front of your eyes dripping wet as they got off on Wonyoung's dominance.

You stripped bare to match them, cock free to the world as the clothes launched into the pile. Wonyoung smiled, licking her lips.

The room devolved into chaos, all 4 of them moving towards you, no longer interested in Wonyoung's tasty soles, only focused on you.

They were on their knees mere inches from your cock as they locked needy eyes with you "Daddy, let us suck your dick!" Liz whined, "Then be a good group and suck it for me.." You growled, their faces mushing together as they got to work, licking you up and down like the best treat they'll ever receive, winning awards could never compare to this. The eager girls slurping and kissing whatever part of your meat they could find.

The ever eager Gaeul's mouth found it's way to your ballsack, slobbering over it as her tongue licked into your skin, she had the most eager mouth in IVE, making up for her lack of technique with passion. "Fuck.." You moaned out hungrily, admiring the beauty of the girls working beneath you.

Liz and Rei claimed their stake on both sides of your cock, Rei acted more refined than the girl mirror opposite her. Staring at each other as they sent sparks of Pleasure up your body.

Wonyoung doesn't want to share with her fellow girls, perching her hands against your ass as her tongue writhed against your backdoor, "Such a good ass, and it's all mine Y/N." She growled, her dominance marked while she enjoyed your ass.

The combined sinful acts made you weak in the knees, the delectable pleasure of the girls as they slurped up your body, your hands desperately grasped at Liz and Rei's hair, arching into Wonyoung's tongue as you got pushed to the edge.

"I'm gonna cum!" You moaned, Liz pushed Rei onto the ground, head banging against the floor as Liz swallowed your cock, swirling her tongue around the head, you shot your first orgasm of the night into her awaiting mouth, semen pooling while her eyes widened. Wonyoung's insistent rimming not slowing until you stopped orgasming.

The girls eagerly sat below Liz, licking the air as your thick semen dribbled out her mouth, landing in combination with her spit into the open mouths, cream landing on their tongue as they swallowed your load.

The combined arousal shot up to unparalleled amounts, their faces flushed with a dark lust that was willing to consume them all.

Gaeul was the first to act, lips locking with yours as you tasted the faint afterimage of your cum on her tongue as you two fought for dominance, the other girls watching in awe, silently placing bets on who would win. Teeth clashing together recklessly, pushing Gaeul onto the bed eliciting a sensual gasp.

"Tell me Gaeul, what do you want?" You teased, hand pressed In between her legs, stroking her folds as you admired her pussy, the only unshaven IVE girl caught your breath as you had to resist diving into her body.

"Fuck me right now!" She demanded, you replaced your hand with your cock, pressed against her needy hole as you begun to push in, the tightness gripping your shaft, taking every inch as you watched it disappear inside of her. Crotches connecting in a dance of passion.

"Going to start moving, yeah Gaeul?" You asked, she nodded "Put a baby into me." She begged, both of you knew she wasn't going to get pregnant, it'd be disastrous to her career. But you'll breed her anyway.

Gaeul was the tightest, almost to the point of pain as she squeezed the life out of you, pulling in and out of her body, your thrusts struggled to regulate as she kept her grip on you.

The other three girls grew bored, "Liz.. You look so sexy, come here." Wonyoung said, falling back into her dominant role you've endured many times before, you turned your head away from Gaeul. Still eagerly thrusting into her velvety cunt as you watched the two.

Liz sat raggedly in Wonyoung's lap, her face being assaulted by Wonyoung's saliva drenched lips, leaving marks on her cheeks. Hand trailing down her chest as it found its prize, Liz's cunt, needily tightening around the air as Wonyoung's fingers danced against her pink flesh, the sight spurred you on, slamming into Gaeul's cunt with new found vigor.

"Liz honey.." Wonyoung gasped into her ear, voice airy as Liz whined out. "You want my fingers? Fingers in this needy hole? Use your words now." She demanded.

"Yes mommy! Finger me.. Please!" She begged like a little bitch, the younger girl moaning out as Wonyoung pressed into Liz's hole, fingers disappearing as you turned away.

Wet squelching noises echoed against the walls, Wonyoung hammering into Liz, you slamming into Gaeul, Rei wasn't just an idle observer, her fingers rubbing her lower lips as she gasped in pleasure, a voyeur of her close friends.

Gaeul was on the verge of her high, squeezing even tighter than you thought possible. The orgy brought her to a high unable to be replicated, "Fuck fuck fuck, Y/N I'm -" Her voice died out. Her orgasm crashing down on her heavily, your cock fired it's second load, just as intense as the first as you breeded Gaeul with everything she siphoned from you.

Your cock withdrew, pearlescent cum leaking out of her thoroughly used and bred folds, Wonyoung moved quickly. Fingers withdrew as she dragged Liz around, shoving her face into Gaeul's pussy. Causing a loud mewl of over-stimulation as Liz drank your load. "Good girl.. Drink up for mommy." Wonyoung smiled as she grinded Gaeul against Liz's eager tongue.

The sight revitalised you, cock already recovering, if every girl wanted a go you were going to feel this tomorrow, thankfully a rest day.

Gaeul managed to fall off the bed, landing against the carpet as she felt complete. Wonyoung let go of Liz, leaving her bent against the bed as she turned your gaze onto you, wrapping her slender fingers on your length, stroking softly with a comparatively gentle hand.

"Hm, which girl next? Who am I kidding, you'll do what I say. Let Liz ride you." She demanded, hand leaving your cock as she manhandled your body, legs as Liz grinded her sopping pussy against your tip. "I'm going to ride this cock Daddy, enjoy it." She purred, constricting around you, head falling back in pleasure as a cock laid firmly inside of her.

You let her control the pace, not offering assistance as she bounced up and down, nails digging into your stomach as she used your body as a toy. "Fuck Daddy! This cock is always so good." She screeched, wet skin slapping through the air.

She has good technique and a loving body, there's a reason she fought for that second spot, Wonyoung was first but it was close, a flip of a coin and your mind could change. Wonyoung grew tired of watching, approaching your head as she climbed up to your head.

"Be a good boy and let me ride that tongue." Wonyoung chimed, world fading into darkness as all you could do is comply, tongue laid outwards as it reached Wonyoung's juicy pussy, bitter liquid coating your tongue as her flesh grinded on your lips.

"Good good boy!" Wonyoung purred, voice starting to hitch at your greedy tongue, her musk filling your nose as her scent rubbed onto your face, the lack of sight making every slight action pop, every thrust of Liz felt more vivid as you became nothing more than an object for their pleasure.

"Hm, euggh!" Liz moaned, speeding her bounces up, drowning in ecstasy, you were drowning aswell just in a much more slippery liquid.

"Eat my ass! Yes Rei!" Gaeul screeched, so that's what those two were doing. Your vision may be obscured but you have a vivid imagination. Maybe Gaeul was bent down into the floor, head against the carpet as her ass hung into the sky. Desperate for Rei's tongue, maybe Rei was taking her time, maybe she was launching a full on bombardment.

"Fuck Y/N, keep going!" Wonyoung's grinding fell irregular as she used you, unable to handle much more of this as you flicked your tongue into her swollen clit. "Yes.. Fuck!" Wonyoung's voice was cracking, dominance being tested as she came undone, coating you in her squirt as her body gingerly retreated.

The vision of Liz came back into frame, skin red and shining in sweat as Liz struggled to reach her high, Gaeul was not fairing much better against Rei's skilled tongue that pressed into her ass, "Such a tasty ass Gaeul, how have you hid this from me?" Rei cooed, feasting on Gaeul's forbidden hole as Gaeul screamed into the carpet.

"Fuck fuck hm, Y/N! I'm CUMMING!" Liz wailed, head turning light as her body erupted into static. You were not far behind in your orgasm, leaving her warmth as you frantically stroked your shaft, tugging to the sound of Gaeul's moans as another orgasm claimed your soul. Pulling Liz's porcelain face closer as watery spurts covered her cheeks, splattering against her nose as she was painted white.

Each orgasm brought you closer to exhaustion, but you had a duty to fulfill as their loving manager.

You took a moment to recover, temporarily blacking out to the room as you listened to the eager work of the girls, something involving all of them but you couldn't care less as you caught your breath.

Eventually you came back to your senses and climbed out of bed, the sight in front of you beyond arousing, Wonyoung's lubed fingers entered in and out of Rei's tight asshole, Liz took Wonyoung's foot in her mouth, licking it clean of the orgasmic sweat as her head went dizzy from the taste.

Gaeul was aggressively fondling Rei's boobs, in an intricate position as she gave Rei's tongue a way to lick her saturated folds. A beautifully ran system of pleasure, everyone getting attention as sinful muffles came from the mingled bodies, Wonyoung noticed you were watching, smiling as she kept her fingers penetrating the Japanese girls asshole. "Hey, I've got her nicely warmed up for that hard cock, let's take the whore together." She said, pulling out as she gave a courtesy lick.

Liz, now without a role grabbed the transparent liquid and thoroughly doused your cock, it shined against the artificial light as you pressed against Rei's tight asshole. "I'm going to enter now." You warned, she couldn't exactly respond given her predicament, going inwards as she took the first inch.

Rei and you had engaged in anal countless times over the last few months, facing little resistance as her hole took your cock, her ass was formed by the gods itself to take your dick. Lovingly grabbing your meaty length as you barged into her.

Wonyoung returned, you didn't even know she left but she came back with a new ornament. A purple strap, around 8" with a commendable girth, "Gaeul honey, can you please entertain Liz for me?" She asked, hands pulling Gaeul's twisted body out of Rei's sloppy mouth as her cock took her place.

Rei now laid dangling in the air, doubly penetrated with cock as you spit roasted her. Her moans were silenced by the silicone, replaced by an incomprehensible gurgling as Wonyoung hit the back of her throat, desperate to make her gag.

Wonyoung's eyes had a delightful sadism in them, enjoying her member slurping on her strap, no matter how real she felt the arousal starting to run down her leg, your thrusts were much more controlled, burrowed firmly in Rei's ass as you jerked your cock into her body.

"Such a pretty body, even fucking better with two cocks in it." You growled, speeding up your thrusts to match Wonyoung.

"She's really built for cock, maybe we need to do this more often..." Wonyoung suggested, the thoughts of you and Wonyoung using Rei more often made you weak in the knees.

The other two girls laid in the corner, curled up in a circle as they licked the juicy fruit between each other's crotch. Completely focused on each other's taste and scent as they tuned out the rest of the world.

You didn't feel much strength left in you, "Wonyoung.. I'm gonna cum in this sexy ass.." You choked out to the partner in crime.

"Cum in that tight ass! Defile her!" She shouted back, giving you permission as you shot out another orgasm. Soul leaving your body as the world stopped spinning for a second, time standing still as you unleashed your cum into her hole.

You pulled out, Rei's ass fully gaped as semen dirtily trailed down her sweat covered legs, Wonyoung dropped her onto the floor with a loud thud.

Your energy started to wane, Wonyoung frowned as you fell onto the ground at your limit. "You did so well baby. I'll clean everyone up, but let's be clear." She got closer to your ear as she whispered "You are going to fuck me for hours next time..."

The world went black, a satisfied night with your favorite girls in the world.

[wordsofwhimsy]

⚔ How to Slay a Dragon ⚔

Pairing: Main!Mark Grayson x f!Reader

Warnings: None

Tags: Fluff, slice of life

Word Count: 3,012

Synopsis: Reader has a little sister whose birthday is coming, and what she wants can be summed up in three words: princess, dragon, superhero.

a/n: okay this is cute as shit and everyone is entitled to their opinions but if you don’t agree with me you’re wrong

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon when your little sister, Lily, burst into the living room, practically vibrating with excitement. Her wide eyes were filled with a mix of hope and determination, the kind of look that only a kid could pull off.

“I want to be a princess!” she declared, her voice bright with the confidence of a five-year-old who thought she could have anything if she just wished hard enough. “And... and Invincible has to save me!”

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat. You were in the middle of making lunch, but Lily’s request was loud enough to catch your attention. You glanced over at Mark, who was lazily lounging on the couch with his phone in hand, only half-listening.

His eyes flicked to Lily, then to you. He froze, his gaze locking with yours for a split second. His lips parted, but before he could say anything, Lily was off again, talking a mile a minute.

“Because, like, Invincible always saves the day! And I wanna be a princess! Will he come? Can he come? Can I be a princess for my birthday?”

You swallowed, trying to keep your face from betraying the sudden panic bubbling in your chest. It wasn’t like you had never thought about the possibility of Lily putting two and two together. She adored Invincible—heck, she probably knew more about his heroic feats than you did. But hearing her make such a direct request hit you like a ton of bricks.

Mark, still trying to look casual, sighed deeply. "You know," he muttered under his breath, "I’m not sure Invincible will be able to make it. He’s, uh, super busy with saving the world and all that.”

Lily, however, wasn’t listening to him. She was too busy bouncing on the balls of her feet, her little hands clasped together as if pleading with the universe itself. “But... I really want Invincible to come! Please!” she begged.

You exchanged another glance with Mark. He gave you a subtle shrug, trying to act unbothered, though you could see the tension in his shoulders. You chuckled softly, hoping to defuse the moment before Lily noticed anything.

“That does sound really fun,” you started, crouching down to her level, “But I’m not sure if Invincible will be able to make it to the party. He’s really busy, and, well... saving the world comes first, right?”

Lily pouted, deflating just a little, but she didn’t give up. “But... I really want him to be here! He has to save me from a dragon, you know?” Her eyes glinted with determination again. “I can be the princess, but he has to be the hero!”

Mark’s lips twitched, clearly trying not to laugh at how serious she was. You could see his resolve softening, though he put on a mock-pensive face. “Well, I mean, being a superhero is tough work... but I’ve heard he’s a good guy. He might be able to stop by for a little bit,” he said, playing along.

Lily’s face lit up. “Oh, yay! I’m gonna be the princess! I’m gonna be just like one of those princesses in the books, and Invincible will save me from the dragon, and then we’ll have cake!”

You gave a small smile, grateful that she was still so young and innocent. “Of course, you’ll be the princess. And don’t worry,” you added, glancing at Mark, “we’ll make sure you have a super special day. You’ll be the star of the party.”

Lily twirled around in a circle, her dress flaring out behind her as she squealed in excitement. “I’m going to go play with my dolls now!” she declared, already running off to her room to plan out more of her royal adventures.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Mark sat up fully now, looking at you with an amused, slightly worried expression.

“So, uh, you heard that, right?” he asked, voice a little tight as he ran a hand through his hair. “She wants me to save her from a dragon.”

You nodded, crossing your arms as you leaned against the kitchen counter. “I heard. And I’m not gonna lie—she’s totally obsessed with you. I’m pretty sure she thinks you actually live up the clouds. Just waiting to swoop in and save the day.”

Mark sighed, running his hand over his face. “Yeah, well, now I’m definitely gonna have to show up. I can’t just let her down like that...”

You gave him a sympathetic look. “You’re sweet. Just another reason I love you.” You brought your fingers together to make a heart, winking at him with a smile. A light blush dusted his cheeks. Placing your hands back onto the counter behind you, you continued, “But as for the dragon...”

“Rex?” Mark interrupted, already knowing where you were going.

You grinned. “Exactly. He owes me a favor.”

Mark laughed softly, though it was more nervous than anything else. “Okay, so... I show up, save the day, and maybe knock out a few dragons. Then what? I just... leave? She’ll probably think it’s some kind of dream or something.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” you said, waving it off. “We’ll make sure everything goes smoothly. I’ll keep it low-key, and I’ll handle the details. Just... try not to blow your cover. Can you imagine if she figured out you were actually him?”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “Not sure I want to...”

You breathed out a light laugh before turning back to the half-prepared meal. “Just be ready for a lot of pretending. This is gonna be one hell of a party.”

Mark gave a small, resigned chuckle. “I’m starting to realize that...”

You smiled, your heart glowing with affection for both him and Lily. “Thanks, Mark. She’s gonna love it.”

Mark smiled back, his eyes softening. “Anything for you... and for her.”

The next week, preparations were in full swing. You decorated your backyard with banners, balloons, and a massive cardboard castle you’d spent days putting together. Your little sister was bouncing around in her princess dress, completely unaware of the superhero shenanigans that were about to unfold.

“It’s perfect!” she shouted, grinning from ear to ear.

“We’re gonna have so much fun today!” You cheered along with her, adding the last streamer to the wooden fence. “Aren’t we Mark?” You tunned to your boyfriend who was lingering awkwardly by the snack table. Why did he look more nervous about this roleplaying than he ever did out in battle?

“Y-Yeah,” he stuttered, forcing a weird smile.

You quirked an eyebrow at him, for a second nervous that Lily would question his stiffness, but she simply twirled by him while humming a nameless tune.

Rex, ever the prankster, had thankfully agreed to be part of the party. He showed up wearing a makeshift dragon costume, looking absolutely ridiculous, but he was completely game for the idea. You had to admit, the dragon outfit was hilarious—bright green and covered in foam spikes—but it would do.

Finally, everything was set. The party guests had arrived, the kids were running around with cake smeared on their faces, and Lily was on her throne (aka, a fold-out chair with a plastic tiara), waiting eagerly for her hero to arrive.

“Invincible’s here!” one of the kids yelled excitedly as Mark arrived on the scene, striking a heroic pose. Lily gasped, her eyes wide in awe.

His arrival was anything but low-key. A streak of blue and yellow shot across the sky and in an instant, Mark descended from the clouds, lowering himself to the ground with his fists placed dramatically at his hips. The kids screamed in awe as he stood tall, a glowing presence of undeniable heroism.

“Invincible! You came!” she squealed, standing up and rushing to him.

Mark crouched down to her level, giving her a smile behind his mask. “I’m here to save the day, Princess.”

Lily giggled. “A dragon! It’s gonna eat me! You have to save me!”

At that moment, Rex, in his dragon costume, appeared from behind large oak tree, growling and stomping around like a child playing pretend. The other kids screamed and ran, but Lily, in her princess glory, stood tall, waiting for her hero to step in.

Without missing a beat, Mark sprang into action, launching himself toward the dragon. “Stay back, beast! You won’t hurt the princess on my watch!”

Rex growled playfully as Mark “fought” him off, throwing a few staged punches that sent Rex stumbling backward, dramatically toppling onto the grass with exaggerated “oofs.” The kids watched in rapt attention, some giggling, others gasping, caught up in the spectacle of it all.

Lily, standing like a true princess in her pink gown, clasped her hands together in awe. “Go, Invincible!” she cheered, her voice a mix of wonder and excitement. Her eyes sparkled with joy as she watched Mark fight off the “dragon.”

Things got a little wild as Rex—really getting into character—lunged at Mark with a loud roar. He was a little too enthusiastic in his movements and, with one miscalculated step, crashed into the play castle you’d spent so long putting together. You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t ache at the sight. The entire structure wobbled and collapsed in a cascade of pink and purple cardboard towers.

The kids screamed in mock terror, laughing and running in all directions. One of the younger kids even shouted, “The castle’s gone!” as if the dragon had destroyed the very heart of their kingdom.

Lily, eyes wide with a mix of shock and pure excitement, gasped. “The castle!” she squealed. Then, just as quickly, her expression shifted to a beaming smile. “It’s okay! Invincible will fix it!”

But the dragon wasn’t done yet. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he grabbed a plastic party cup from the snack table, holding it dramatically. The kids watched, intrigued, unsure of what was coming next.

Without warning, Rex tossed the cup into the air, and just as it reached its peak ascent, the plastic exploded with a loud pop! The kids screamed and laughed, some of them ducking in surprise at the burst of noise.

One of the younger kids screamed, “Ahh! The dragon’s breathing fire!” They scrambled back, terrified yet thrilled by the sudden explosion.

You froze for a moment, wide-eyed, before narrowing your eyes and glaring daggers at Rex, your stomach sinking. This was not part of the plan. You had been trying to keep things low-key, and Rex—of course—had to use his powers. You shot him an exasperated look, silently mouthing, Really?

Rex gave you an innocent shrug, clearly not understanding why you weren’t loving the “real” dragon fire. He mouthed back, What? They loved it!

But Mark, ever the hero, didn’t break character. He took one quick glance at Rex, then turned to Lily, his expression resolute. “Fear not, Princess!” he shouted, his voice booming with heroism. “I’ll protect you from any danger!”

Mark shot across the yard, zooming in Rex’s direction faster than a speeding bullet. Rex, seeing the intensity in Mark's gaze, let out a nervous growl and began backing away, slowly at first, then turning into a full retreat as Mark sped after him. The kids gasped as the two “fighters” flew across the yard, Mark grabbing Rex by the tail and lifting him off the ground. “Enough, dragon! You’ve caused enough chaos for one day!” Mark called out, his voice as commanding as ever. Rex let out a huff of defeat as Mark flew him high into the air, away from the party, until they were a tiny speck in the sky. The kids cheered, their excitement building. Mark returned to the ground with a soft landing, flashing a grin at the crowd. “The dragon’s been dealt with, Princess. The kingdom is safe again!” Lily squealed in delight, her eyes wide with amazement. “You really did it!” she beamed at Mark, who smiled back at her.

“Now to return you to your observation tower,” he said, doing his best to maintain a tone of bravado. Mark scooped her up in his arms, holding her securely against his chest as if she were the most precious thing in the world. “Hold on tight, Princess!”

Lily’s eyes widened as they slowly ascended up into the air, her small hands trying to grip onto his costume as she looked down at the ground below. “We’re flying!” she gasped, her voice full of wonder, but there was a hint of nervousness too.

“Don’t worry, Princess,” Mark reassured her, his tone soft. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.” He gave her a small smile, trying to ease her nerves. He made sure to keep the pace slow, not too fast, just enough to keep her comfortable as they gently floated up toward the second-floor balcony.

As they neared the balcony, Mark carefully adjusted his angle, ensuring that he landed softly, his feet touching the edge of the railing with expert precision. He moved slowly, making sure Lily felt the full security of his arms around her.

The backyard had gone completely quiet as the kids below watched, their mouths agape in awe. They’d never seen anything like it.

Mark landed softly, and when his feet touched the balcony, he stood still for a moment, making sure Lily felt secure before he even thought about letting go. He looked down at her, his eyes filled with reassurance. “We’re here, Princess,” he said gently. “Safe and sound.”

Lily, still wide-eyed but now completely at ease, looked up at him, her face lit with excitement. “That was so cool!” she said, her voice filled with joy, but there was no fear left in her expression. She had fully trusted him, and now, she was in complete awe.

Mark waved down at the kids below, who were staring up at him in wide-eyed wonder. They “ooo-ed” and “aww-ed,” completely captivated by the sight of a real superhero—Invincible—actually flying.

“Take care, everyone!” Mark called down, his voice carrying with that heroic quality.

He gave the small crowd below a salute, placed a gentle kiss to the back of Lily’s hand, then with a burst of speed shot into the sky once more, this time rising higher and higher until he was a small figure in the sky, leaving the partygoers to watch in awe. The kids below cheered and clapped as they watched him soar away, vanishing into the distance.

A few moments later, Mark walked through the fence into the backyard. He was dressed back in his usual attire with an overly casual expression on his face, looking around in a way that was beyond suspicious.

A minute later Lily came running down the stairs and into the backyard again, her excitement almost palpable. As soon as she saw Mark standing there, her face lit up with pure joy. She jumped up and down, clapping her hands excitedly.

“You missed it, Mark!” she exclaimed, her voice practically bursting with enthusiasm. “Invincible came and saved me from the dragon! He really saved me! You should’ve seen it! He flew me up to the balcony! It was amazing!”

She bounced around in circles, her eyes wide with excitement as she couldn’t stop talking about the adventure. “And then the dragon exploded a cup! And Invincible caught me! It was the best birthday ever!”

Mark chuckled, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched her excitement. He bent down to her level and ruffled her hair playfully. “Wow, sounds like Invincible did an amazing job,” he said, his voice light with amusement. “Guess you’ll just have to tell me all about it.” She hummed a happy sound of agreeance before bounding off to join the other kids.

As the chaos of the party continued—kids laughing, running around, and playing—you quietly made your way over to Mark. You stood beside him for a moment, just watching the scene. He was still grinning, but there was a softness in his eyes as he watched Lily and the other kids play.

Finally, you turned to him, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. “You know, you’re really good with her,” you said, your voice quiet but full of warmth.

Mark glanced at you, a slight blush coloring his cheeks as he shrugged modestly. “I just wanted to make her birthday special, that’s all.”

You gave him a knowing look, tilting your head slightly as you crossed your arms. “Well, you did. And, honestly, you’re gonna make a great dad someday.”

Mark’s eyes widened, his face immediately turning crimson as he stammered, “A-a-are you serious? Y-you want to start a family?”

You laughed at his reaction, a light, playful sound that made his blush deepen. “Not quite yet,” you teased, the corner of your lips curling into a smile.

Without missing a beat, you grabbed his arm and gently rested your head on his bicep. You sighed contentedly, letting the peaceful moment take over. “But maybe someday.”

Mark, still flushed, looked down at you, a soft smile spreading across his face. The idea lingered in his mind, and he leaned down to kiss the top of your head, his lips brushing against your hair in a sweet gesture. He thought to himself, That'd be nice.

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, surrounded by the laughter of the kids in the background, the warmth of the sun making everything feel just right. You were both content, thinking about the future in that quiet, almost unspoken way, knowing that whatever came next—one step at a time—was a journey you could take together.

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, always and forever ࿐‧₊ make you mine

chapter summary: With finals over, summer break starts. But of course, there are a few surprises along the way.

word count: 14.7k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: helllloooo! so this is the 'main' alternate timeline, basically just meaning the timeline that exists because logan changed the past. or in other words, the timeline where logan wakes up after stopping mystique from killing trask

i still have quite a few stories to tell about logan and reader, like how they got married, found laura, had gabby, etc. most of this series is just fluff, sometimes with some angst, but the only problems that arise don't involve any violence.

anyways, think of this as taking place sometime after who are we to fight the alchemy? (pt. 1 and 2)!

warnings/tags: reader wears glasses, fluff, summer break, mention of damp hair and hair being tied back, x-men mission, light violence, slight angst, soft!logan

series masterlist - chapter 2

Logan was like a bear—a giant, warm, cuddly bear. Though if you told him that you were sure he’d deny, deny, deny.

You let out a sleepy grunt, groggily reaching over to slap your alarm clock into silence. As the shrill beeping stopped, you became acutely aware of the warm, heavy weight wrapped securely around you. Logan’s arm was draped over your waist, holding you firmly in place against his chest. His even breaths fanned across the back of your neck, and the slight scruff of his beard grazed your skin as he shifted, pulling you impossibly closer.

“Logan,” you murmured, your voice thick with sleep as you squirmed in his grasp.

A low, disgruntled growl rumbled from his chest. “Mm-mm. Nope,” he mumbled against your shoulder, his voice rough and muffled. “Five more minutes.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, even as your cheeks warmed at the sound of his voice so close to your ear. “I have to get up,” you protested softly, trying to wriggle free. His arm tightened instinctively, making escape a futile endeavor.

“Don’t see why,” he muttered, still half-asleep. “You’re comfy right here.”

You rolled your eyes, your lips twitching into a smile despite yourself. “I have class to prep for, Logan. You know, that thing where I teach physics to a bunch of mutant teenagers?”

He grunted in response, clearly unimpressed by your logic. “Teenagers’ll survive without you for one morning,” he drawled, his lips brushing against the crook of your neck in a way that made your breath hitch. “I’m not lettin’ you go.”

You turned your head just enough to catch a glimpse of his face—eyes still closed, hair sticking up in every direction, and a faint smirk playing on his lips. The sight was almost enough to make you cave, but you managed to keep your resolve. Barely.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, even as your hand instinctively reached up to comb through his unruly hair. His grin widened at the affectionate gesture, and he cracked one eye open, peering at you with a sleepy, satisfied expression. “But today is the last day of classes, and I have to give them their final.”

Logan let out an exaggerated groan, burying his face against the curve of your neck. “You’re tellin’ me a bunch of kids and their tests are more important than me?” His voice was muffled, the low rumble of it sending a pleasant warmth through you.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I don’t make the schedule, Logan. Believe me, if I could skip it, I would.”

“You’re not skippin’ it,” he grumbled, though his lips brushed lightly against your skin. “But don’t think I won’t complain about it the whole time you’re gone.”

“You? Complain? Shocking.” Your playful tone earned you a half-hearted growl as Logan rolled onto his back, pulling you with him. You landed on his chest, his arms securely around you. His fingers traced idle patterns along your back, his gaze fixed on you now with a mix of affection and amusement.

“You’re gonna spend the rest of the day buried in grading,” he said, arching a brow. “And I won’t see you for days. Don’t think I didn’t notice what happened after midterms.”

Your face warmed at the memory of being holed up in your office, surrounded by papers, but you tilted your chin stubbornly. “I have to grade, Logan. How else will they know whether they pass?”

“Sounds like a them problem,” he countered smoothly, his smirk deepening.

“Logan.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. He always had a way of making you feel light, even when you were stressed. “You could help me grade, you know. I’ll even teach you how to curve a test.”

His laugh was deep and genuine, rumbling through his chest beneath you. “Pretty sure that’d end with me givin’ everyone a pass just so I could get you back quicker.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but he silenced you with a kiss. It was soft and unhurried, his hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head as he tilted his own. By the time he pulled back, your thoughts had scattered, and he looked thoroughly pleased with himself.

“Fine,” you muttered, still breathless. “But I’m locking my office door when I’m grading.”

His grin widened. “Good. I’ll just pick the lock.”

“Logan!”

He chuckled, flipping you gently onto your back and leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. “Alright, darlin’. Go teach your kids or whatever. But I’m holding you to dinner tonight. No papers allowed.”

You smiled up at him, your hand brushing lightly against his jawline. “Deal.”

Logan lingered a moment longer, his eyes tracing your face as though memorizing every detail. Then, with a sigh, he pushed himself up, reluctantly letting you go. “Go on, then, before I change my mind and keep you here.”

You bit back a laugh, slipping out of bed and grabbing your glasses from the nightstand. As you moved to get ready, you could feel his eyes on you, his presence a steady warmth in the background.

---

“Why are you in my office?” Jean asked, walking into the room where you sat on the couch in the corner.

“Close the door, Jean!” You whisper-yelled. Jean raised an eyebrow but complied as you spoke again, “Logan’s clingy, he says that since classes are over for the summer I should be ‘spending time with him’ even though I told him I still have the finals to grade.”

Jean closed the door, her curiosity evident as she leaned against it, arms crossed. “You’re hiding in my office to avoid Logan?”

You sighed, setting aside the stack of papers you were grading on Jean’s coffee table. “It’s not like I’m avoiding him forever. I just need a few hours to finish these finals without him finding me and pulling me into another impromptu cuddle session.”

Jean smirked, clearly entertained. “He’s got a point, though. Classes are over. Most people would kill to have their boyfriend be that invested in spending time with them.”

You rolled your eyes, even as a smile tugged at your lips. “I know. And it’s sweet, really. But he doesn’t understand that I can’t just wave a wand and make the grades magically appear. These finals aren’t going to grade themselves.”

Jean quirked a brow. “And you thought my office was the safest place to hide?”

“Well, yeah.” You gestured around. “Logan wouldn’t think to look for me here. Plus, I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“I don’t mind,” Jean replied, amused. “But you know he’s going to find you eventually. He has an uncanny ability to know exactly where you are.”

You slumped back against the couch, groaning softly. “Don’t remind me. It’s like he has a sixth sense or something.”

Jean chuckled, walking over and plopping into the chair across from you. “It’s called being ridiculously in love with you. That man’s not exactly subtle.”

The words made your face heat up, but you tried to brush it off. “Yeah, well, ridiculously in love or not, he needs to let me work for a bit. I’ll make it up to him later.”

Jean’s smirk turned mischievous. “Oh, I’m sure you will. Candlelit dinner? Maybe a movie night?”

“Jean!” you hissed, your cheeks burning as you tried to shush her. “Don’t you start too.”

She held up her hands, mock-innocent. “I’m just saying, it’s adorable how smitten he is. Honestly, I think it’s good for you. You’re not usually the type to take much downtime.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, the door creaked open just enough for Logan’s unmistakable voice to drift in.

“Jean, you seen—”

Logan froze in the doorway, his brows lifting slightly when he saw you sitting there. His gaze flicked to Jean, who was already biting back a grin, and then back to you.

“Found you,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he was trying not to smirk.

You sank further into the couch, your face heating under his knowing stare. “I was… grading,” you said lamely, gesturing to the papers in front of you.

Logan stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind him. His eyes stayed on you, warm and amused. “In Jean’s office?”

“It was a strategic decision,” Jean quipped before you could answer, her tone dripping with mock seriousness.

Logan ignored her, his attention fixed solely on you. He crossed the room, crouching down in front of you so you were at eye level. His hand came to rest lightly on your knee, the warmth of his touch grounding you despite your embarrassment.

“You could’ve just told me you needed time to work, darlin’,” he said softly, his voice carrying no trace of irritation—just quiet understanding.

“I did,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze. “You didn’t exactly listen.”

His lips quirked, and he leaned in slightly, his forehead nearly brushing yours. “Maybe ‘cause I’m selfish and like havin’ you around too much.”

Your resolve wavered as you finally looked at him, his eyes impossibly soft. Jean, sensing she was no longer needed, stood and slipped out of the room without a word, leaving the two of you alone.

“Logan,” you sighed, your voice quieter now. “I just… I really need to finish these finals. I promise, as soon as I’m done, I’m all yours.”

Logan studied you for a moment, then nodded, his hand squeezing your knee lightly. “Alright,” he said, standing up. “But I’m takin’ you to dinner tonight. Non-negotiable.”

You smiled, the weight of his gaze melting some of your earlier frustration. “Deal.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead before straightening. “I’ll leave you to it, then. But don’t think I’m not gonna check in later.”

You rolled your eyes, but your grin lingered as he turned and left the room, his presence somehow leaving it warmer than before.

---

Theresa stood by you on her tiptoes, eagerly watching as you carefully sliced her apple. She hummed happily, her curly red hair bouncing with every small fidget of excitement. You smiled softly at her, taking your time to arrange the slices neatly on the plate. The summer sun streamed through the kitchen window, making the air feel lighter now that the semester was officially over.

You were dressed comfortably for the warm day, the floral sundress swaying slightly as you shifted your weight. Logan had gone off to check on something outside earlier, so the mansion was unusually quiet.

Logan passed the kitchen door without sparing it a glance, only to stop mid-step and double back. His figure filled the doorway as he leaned casually against the frame, his arms crossed, eyes locking onto you immediately.

He didn’t say anything at first, just stared, his expression caught somewhere between surprise and something softer. His gaze flickered over you briefly, but it was the kind of look that left you feeling as though he’d memorized every detail in a single second. His brows raised slightly, and the corners of his mouth pulled into the faintest hint of a smile.

You glanced up at him mid-slice, caught completely unaware. “What?” you asked, confused by the way his stare lingered.

Theresa, oblivious to the subtle tension, tugged lightly on your wrist. “Is it ready yet, Y/N? Can I have it now?”

“Almost,” you murmured, distracted as you finished the last cut. You placed the slices neatly onto the plate, handing it to her with a small smile. “Here you go, Tessie. Go eat at the table, alright?”

“Thanks!” she chirped before skipping off, her plate held triumphantly in both hands.

The kitchen was quiet again, save for the soft hum of the fridge. You turned back to find Logan still standing there, his smirk more pronounced now.

“What is it?” you asked, feeling a little self-conscious under his scrutiny.

“Nothin’,” he said, pushing off the doorframe to step closer. His voice was casual, but his eyes betrayed the warmth he was holding back. “Just… you look nice.”

Your cheeks heated immediately, and you glanced away, focusing on tidying up the cutting board. “It’s just a dress,” you mumbled.

“First time I’ve seen you wear one,” he replied, his voice quieter now as he leaned against the counter beside you. His knuckles brushed lightly against yours, and the gesture, as small as it was, sent your pulse skittering.

“I usually don’t,” you admitted, avoiding his gaze. “It’s not really practical, you know. With teaching, and the lab, and—”

“Practical or not, I like it,” he interrupted, his tone genuine. “Suits you.”

You risked a glance up at him, your eyes meeting his. He wasn’t smirking anymore. Instead, his expression was unguarded, softer than you were used to seeing. That look—the one where he seemed to see you and only you—made your heart twist in your chest.

“Thanks,” you said softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Logan reached out, his fingers brushing the side of your arm lightly. “No need to hide when you’re wearin’ something nice, darlin’,” he murmured. “Don’t need to hide, period.”

“I wasn’t hiding,” you argued weakly, your voice betraying you with its timid edge.

He huffed a quiet laugh, his thumb grazing your forearm. “Sure you weren’t.”

“I wasn’t!” you protested, though your voice lacked conviction. His touch was making your thoughts spiral into incoherence.

“Okay, okay,” he said, his grin returning. “But you’ll wear it again sometime, yeah?”

You bit your lip, nodding slightly before looking away again. “Maybe.”

“Good,” he replied, his voice low and warm. “Because you’re stuck with me the rest of the day, anyway.”

“Logan,” you started, your shyness creeping back. “I—”

“No excuses,” he said firmly but without any harshness. “You’re done grading. It’s summer break. No runnin’ off to Jean’s office this time.”

Your face heated at the memory of that little escapade. “You’re not going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” he said, his grin widening. “Now c’mon. Let’s go for a walk or somethin’. You’ve been cooped up too long.”

He offered you his hand, and after a moment of hesitation, you took it. His grip was strong and steady, a quiet reassurance that you weren’t sure you’d ever stop craving.

As the two of you walked out into the summer sun, you couldn’t help but glance down at your dress, a small, shy smile tugging at your lips. Maybe dresses weren’t so impractical after all.

---

The kids’ laughter echoed over the beach, blending with the rhythmic crash of the waves against the shore. A soft breeze ruffled the umbrella shading you and Jean as you sat in matching beach chairs. The air smelled faintly of salt and sunscreen, the summer sun bright but not unbearable.

You had been staring at the same page of Maisie Dobbs for what had to be ten minutes, the words nothing more than a blur. Jean, seated beside you with her own book, glanced at you over the rim of Evidence of Things Unseen. Her lips twitched as she noticed the way your gaze had drifted—away from your book, away from the umbrella’s shade, and unmistakably toward the figure near the shoreline.

Logan stood knee-deep in the water, his jeans rolled up and his shirt conspicuously absent. He hadn’t bothered to wear anything particularly ‘beachy,’ but it didn’t seem to matter. The sun kissed his skin, highlighting the lines of muscle across his chest and arms, and his usual gruff expression softened as he helped some of the kids with their sandcastle defenses. His low chuckle carried faintly on the wind as he spoke to Bobby, who was excitedly gesturing at a moat that, from your vantage point, looked like it was doomed to fail against the incoming tide.

Jean smirked, closing her book deliberately. “You know, for someone with a PhD, you’re doing a terrible job pretending to read.”

Your head snapped back to your book, the sudden motion almost dislodging your glasses. “I’m reading!”

Jean arched an unimpressed brow, her tone teasing. “Oh? What’s happening in the book?”

You scrambled, trying to recall the last thing you’d actually processed. “Uh... Maisie just—she was, um—”

Jean’s laughter was soft but pointed. “Uh-huh. That’s what I thought.” She leaned closer, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “You know, it’s not like he’s never been shirtless before. You do live in the same mansion.”

Your cheeks burned, and you pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose as if that would help hide your embarrassment. “It’s different,” you muttered, keeping your gaze firmly planted on your book now.

Jean grinned. “Different how?”

You hesitated, unwilling to put into words what felt so obvious. How the sight of him here, carefree and laughing with the kids, hit differently than the times you’d seen him shirtless before—training in the Danger Room, patching himself up after a mission, or even just wandering the halls in the early hours of the morning. Here, on this beach, Logan seemed... lighter.

“It just is,” you said finally, your voice quiet but insistent.

Jean shook her head, her grin widening. “You’re hopeless. But hey, at least now you’re not the only one distracted.”

Before you could process her words, a shadow fell over you. You glanced up to find Logan standing there, shirt slung over his shoulder and a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

Your face flushed so hot you were sure it rivaled the sun. “I—I wasn’t—”

Jean, ever the opportunist, cut in before you could flounder any further. “She was definitely enjoying it.”

You shot her a mortified glare, but she just winked, clearly pleased with herself. Logan chuckled, the sound rumbling low in his chest as he crouched beside your chair. His hand came to rest lightly on the armrest, his proximity making your heart race.

“I thought I’d find you buried in a book,” he murmured, his tone teasing but warm. “Didn’t realize you’d be out here gettin’ a tan instead.”

“I’m not—” You floundered again, words failing you under the weight of his gaze.

“She’s been staring at you for the last ten minutes,” Jean added helpfully, earning her a sharp, wordless plea from you.

Logan’s smirk deepened, his attention unwavering as he tilted his head slightly. “That right?”

You wanted the earth to swallow you whole, but instead, you mustered up a weak protest. “Jean’s exaggerating.”

“I’m really not,” Jean chimed in.

“Alright, that’s enough outta you,” Logan said, though his amusement was evident.

Jean chuckled, standing and stretching dramatically. “I’ll leave you two to... whatever this is.” She shot you one last mischievous look before strolling off toward Scott, who was supervising the soccer game.

Once she was gone, Logan shifted, leaning closer. His fingers brushed lightly against your wrist where your hand rested on the book, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered, darlin’,” he said, his voice a low murmur.

“I wasn’t flustered,” you lied, your gaze dropping to the book again.

“Uh-huh,” he drawled, unconvinced. His thumb traced an idle circle on your wrist. “You’re a terrible liar.”

You finally risked a glance up at him, and the intensity in his gaze made your breath hitch. There was no teasing smirk now, just a quiet warmth that left you feeling as if the rest of the beach had faded away.

“Logan,” you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?” he prompted, his tone gentler now.

You hesitated, then shook your head, a small, shy smile tugging at your lips. “Never mind.”

He huffed a soft laugh, leaning in just enough to press a kiss to your forehead. “C’mon,” he said as he straightened, offering you his hand. “Let’s go walk by the water. You’ve been sittin’ here too long.”

You glanced at his hand, then back at him, your shyness warring with the warmth spreading through your chest. Finally, you slipped your hand into his, letting him pull you to your feet.

As the two of you strolled toward the shoreline, the kids’ laughter filling the air around you, you couldn’t help but think that Jean had been right. Distracted or not, Logan was a sight worth lingering on.

---

“You have got to get better at working with a team,” Ororo said.

Scott nodded in agreement, “you can’t just go off on your own and do whatever you want just because you can.”

They entered the viewing deck as Logan playfully scoffed, “I can work on a team. Just depends who I am working with. Isn’t that right, darlin’?”

You continued to look at the screens around you, letting out a noncommittal hum. “Yeah, sure.”

Logan chuckled under his breath, his tone dripping with amusement. “See? Told ya.” He leaned casually against the console, arms crossed as he glanced at you.

Scott pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “That’s not exactly what I’d call an endorsement.”

“Maybe not by your standards, Slim, but I’ll take what I can get,” Logan shot back with a lopsided grin.

Ororo let out a long-suffering sigh. “Logan, this isn’t a joke. You can’t keep running off and doing your own thing in the field. It puts everyone at risk.”

He shrugged, unbothered. “I get the job done.” His eyes flicked to you again, a faint spark of amusement lingering there. “Besides, I work just fine with the right people.”

Ororo didn’t dignify that with a response, her gaze narrowing. “You’re impossible.”

Scott gestured toward the holographic screens. “What’s the scores?” he asked, clearly trying to redirect the conversation to something productive.

You adjusted your glasses, your fingers moving across the controls as you pulled up the relevant data. “The team as a whole got an 84.75%,” you said, glancing at the screen and making a few adjustments to bring up individual scores. “Individually… well, it’s a mixed bag.”

Logan smirked, leaning closer. “Let me guess. I carried the team.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Logan, you were the reason we lost points in the first place.”

“Details, details,” Logan said with a shrug. He glanced at you. “What’d I get, sweetheart?”

You tapped a few keys, pulling up his stats. “Well… I mean individual scores don’t really matter much do they? It’s all about—”

Jean chuckled and crossed her arms, interrupting you, “oh, I know what that means. You’re stalling.”

Your cheeks warmed as you adjusted your glasses, fumbling slightly with the console. “I’m not stalling. I’m just—being thorough.”

Logan tilted his head, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s hear it. I know I aced it.”

Ororo raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Logan, you left your assigned post twice and ignored team strategy. I wouldn’t get my hopes up.”

Jean chimed in with a smirk. “Not to mention, you destroyed half the simulated building—after the objective was completed.”

Logan’s grin didn’t falter. He leaned closer to you, his voice low and teasing. “They just don’t appreciate my style, do they?”

You bit back a small smile, keeping your gaze fixed on the screen. “Okay, fine. You got… a 62.”

Scott made an incredulous noise, crossing his arms. “See? That’s exactly what we’re talking about.”

Logan shrugged, completely unfazed. “Still passed. A win’s a win.”

“It’s barely passing,” Scott countered, clearly losing patience. “And that’s only because of your combat performance. Your teamwork score was—what? Ten points?”

“Seventeen,” you corrected, your tone soft but pointed. “Which isn’t… great.”

Ororo pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly exasperated. “Logan, the whole point of these exercises is to improve coordination and teamwork, not just show off.”

“Hey, if they want me to play nice, they should stop slowing me down,” Logan replied, his casual tone earning a groan from Scott.

“Logan,” you said, trying to balance your shy nature with the need to contribute. “I think what they’re saying is… you’re great on your own, but in a real mission, working together is—kind of important.”

His gaze softened as he looked at you, the teasing edge fading slightly. “Noted, sweetheart. I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

Jean exchanged a quick glance with Ororo, who simply shook her head. “We’ll see,” Ororo muttered, clearly skeptical.

Scott stepped forward, pointing to the screen. “And what about the rest of the team?”

You quickly pulled up the individual stats for everyone else, rattling off the scores. “Jean’s at 90, Ororo’s 92, and Scott—you’ve got a 95.”

Logan gave a low whistle, mock-impressed. “Look at you, Slim. Setting the curve.”

“Someone has to,” Scott replied dryly, but his tone lacked its usual sharpness. He turned back to you. “Good work, Y/N. At least someone here knows how to focus.”

Jean grinned. “She’s always focused. Unlike some people,” she said pointedly, glancing at Logan.

Logan smirked, unbothered as he straightened up. “Guess I’ll just have to make up for it next time.”

Scott opened his mouth to argue, but Ororo cut him off. “Let’s just take the feedback and move on. We’ll schedule another session next week.”

As the group began to disperse, Logan lingered by your side, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “You’re too nice to me, sweetheart.”

You hesitated, the faintest smile tugging at your lips. “Someone has to be.”

Logan smirked at your response, but before he could say anything else, he slid an arm around your shoulders, his touch uncharacteristically gentle as he guided you toward the exit. “C’mon, darlin’. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

You stiffened slightly, your hand coming up to his chest as you gently pushed him away. “Logan—seriously?”

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “What? Afraid someone’s gonna think we’re cozy or somethin’?”

“No,” you said firmly, stepping out of his reach. “I’m afraid of the fact that you’re sweaty and gross. I’m not getting anywhere near you until you shower.”

Logan laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that earned a chuckle from Jean and a loud groan from Scott. “Sweetheart, I’ve been through worse. Little sweat never killed anyone.”

“Maybe not,” you said, adjusting your glasses and flashing a rare smirk. “But it’s definitely killed my willingness to put up with you right now.”

Jean leaned casually against the doorway, her arms crossed as she watched the exchange. “She’s got a point, Logan. You’re a walking hazard zone.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Logan muttered, waving a dismissive hand. He threw one last glance at you before heading toward the door. “Fine. I’ll clean up. But don’t think this is over, sweetheart.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied dryly, turning back to the console to shut everything down.

---

The next week, as you were setting up the console for the simulation, Scott and Kitty came walking down the viewing deck hallway. “Come on,” Scott said, “you’re joining us this time. Kitty’ll take care of this.”

You raised your head from the screens and looked over at Scott, tilting your head. “You sure? I’m not exactly much help in the field.”

Scott crossed his arms, giving you a look that said he wasn’t buying your self-doubt. “You’re more capable than you think, Y/N. And we’re not giving you a choice this time. Kitty’s handling the tech, so suit up.”

You hesitated, glancing at Kitty, who gave you a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” she said, sliding into the chair you vacated. “Besides, it’ll be good for you. Logan’s always saying you need to get out of the lab more.”

“Does he now?” you murmured, adjusting your glasses. A small, nervous smile tugged at your lips as you looked back at Scott. “Okay, but only if you promise not to get annoyed if I mess up.”

Scott’s expression softened, and he nodded. “You won’t mess up. Just stick to the plan, and you’ll be fine.”

As the three of you headed down the hallway toward the locker rooms, Logan was leaning casually against the wall just outside, his arms crossed. His signature smirk appeared the second he saw you. “What’s this? Slim finally letting you outta your cage?”

You rolled your eyes, already feeling a little self-conscious. “It’s not like that, Logan.”

“Sure it’s not,” he drawled, falling into step beside you. “Guess this means I’ll have to keep an extra close eye on you, darlin’. Wouldn’t want you gettin’ hurt.”

“Or distracting anyone else,” Scott muttered under his breath.

Logan shot him a look, but you quickly intervened, your tone light but firm. “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to babysit me.”

Logan chuckled. “You say that now, but wait till the action starts.” He gave you a wink before heading off toward the men’s locker room.

Scott let out a long-suffering sigh. “Just… try not to encourage him.”

“I didn’t say anything!” you protested, your cheeks flushing.

“Yeah, but you smiled,” Scott replied, shaking his head as he disappeared into the locker room.

---

In the simulation room, the team gathered near the starting point. The scenario was a hostage rescue in a collapsing skyscraper, and Scott was already running through the plan with his usual precision. “Ororo and Jean will handle structural stabilization while Logan and I take point on the hostiles. Y/N, you’ll be with Logan.”

Logan’s smirk widened. “Figures. Slim knows who the real MVP is.”

Scott ignored him, turning his attention to you. “Your job is to focus on time manipulation to give us an edge. Slow things down where necessary, especially if Logan decides to... improvise.”

Jean coughed lightly, barely disguising a laugh. “You mean when Logan improvises.”

“Whatever works,” Logan said with a shrug. He glanced at you, his expression softening slightly. “You ready for this, sweetheart?”

You nodded, though the nerves were clear in your posture. “Yeah. I think so.”

Logan leaned in just enough to lower his voice. “Hey. You’ve got this. Just stick with me.”

You managed a small smile, adjusting your gloves. “Thanks.”

---

As the simulation began, chaos erupted almost immediately. Logan, true to form, charged ahead with reckless abandon, his claws slicing through holographic enemies like they were nothing. You stayed close, using your powers to slow time in bursts, giving him an edge whenever he veered too far from the plan.

“Logan, stick to your quadrant!” Scott’s voice barked over the comms.

“I’m stickin’ to it!” Logan shot back, even as he lunged into an adjacent zone. “Just takin’ the scenic route.”

“Scenic route?” you muttered, struggling to keep up with him. “You’re all over the place!”

Logan flashed you a grin over his shoulder. “That’s why you’re here, sweetheart. Keepin’ me in check.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but a part of you felt a flicker of pride. Despite his chaotic style, he trusted you to have his back.

As the simulation progressed, you found yourself falling into a rhythm with him. Whenever he rushed headfirst into a dangerous situation, you instinctively slowed time to give him the upper hand. He, in turn, would glance back to make sure you were safe, his protective instincts as sharp as his claws.

When the final wave of enemies fell and the simulation ended, Scott called the team to regroup. “Not bad,” he said, though his tone suggested he had plenty of notes. “We’ll review the footage and—”

“Hold up,” Logan interrupted, glancing at you. “How’d she do?”

Scott blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Y/N? She did well. Kept up with you, which is more than I can say for most people.”

Logan’s smirk returned. “Told ya she’s got it.”

You adjusted your glasses, your cheeks warming as Jean gave you an approving smile. “She definitely held her own. Maybe we should bring her along more often.”

Scott nodded reluctantly. “We’ll see. For now, let’s debrief.”

As the group started toward the viewing deck, Logan slowed his pace to walk beside you. He bumped your shoulder lightly, a rare softness in his tone. “Proud of you, darlin’. Told ya you’d do great.”

You glanced at him, a small smile breaking through your shyness. “Thanks. But I think we both know you’re the reason Scott’s hair is going to turn gray early.”

Logan laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Worth it.”

---

You let out a quiet groan in your sleep, twisting the thin sheet that barely covered you. The summer heat was relentless, and your room, like most of the older parts of the mansion, didn’t have air conditioning. Adding to your discomfort was Logan, who radiated heat like a furnace. Despite the oppressive warmth, his arm was slung lazily around your waist, anchoring you close.

Shifting slightly, you tried to peel yourself away without waking him, but his grip tightened instinctively. “Where d’you think you’re goin’, sweetheart?” Logan’s voice was rough with sleep, his words barely above a murmur.

“It’s too hot,” you whispered back, your voice tinged with a mix of fondness and exasperation. “You’re like a space heater.”

Logan let out a low chuckle, his breath warm against your neck. “Can’t help it. Comes with the claws and all.”

“You mean being insufferable comes with the claws?” you teased softly, attempting to squirm out from under his arm again.

He growled playfully, pulling you closer instead. “Watch it, darlin’. You’re startin’ to sound a lot like Slim.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips. “I mean it, Logan. I’m going to melt.”

Logan loosened his hold slightly, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at you. His hair was a mess, sticking up in every direction, and the faintest hint of a smirk played on his lips. “Guess I’ll have to cool you off, then.”

“Don’t even—” you started, but before you could finish, Logan leaned down and kissed you. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and entirely unfair in its ability to make you forget the heat. When he finally pulled back, his grin was infuriatingly smug.

“Still too hot?” he asked, his tone dripping with amusement.

You huffed, pushing his chest lightly. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you love me anyway,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His hand lingered, his thumb tracing the edge of your cheekbone.

Your cheeks warmed, though you blamed it on the heat. “I guess I do.”

Logan chuckled, the sound low and genuine, before he flopped back onto his pillow. “Go back to sleep, darlin’. I’ll try not to roast you alive.”

“Gee, thanks,” you muttered, though there was no real bite to your words. Settling back against him despite the heat, you allowed yourself to relax, his steady presence oddly comforting.

As you drifted off, Logan pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Night, sweetheart.”

---

You could bake and cook, but apparently, your skills weren’t exactly pro level. You huffed as you pulled out the pan of macaron shells, all of which were deflated, cracked, or just… sad. The vision of glossy, perfectly round macarons you'd had in your head? Nowhere to be found.

Logan, who had been lounging at the kitchen table flipping through a newspaper, looked up as you groaned in frustration. “What’s the problem, sweetheart?”

You held up the tray of macaron disasters like a defeated warrior displaying a broken weapon. “This is the problem. They’re supposed to be pretty and fluffy, not—whatever this is.” You gestured to the cracked, flat mess.

He squinted at them, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I don’t see the problem. They’re just cookies, right? Still edible.”

“They’re macarons, not cookies. They’re supposed to be delicate, with perfect little feet and smooth tops. This is a disaster,” you said dramatically, setting the tray down with a sigh.

Logan snorted, setting the newspaper aside. “Darlin’, you’re makin’ a big fuss over somethin’ that’s just gonna get eaten. I mean, they look fine to me.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “Fine? They look like they’ve been through a war.”

“Then they’ve got character,” he said, standing and walking over to you. He plucked one off the tray and popped it into his mouth before you could stop him.

“Logan!” you protested. “They’re not ready yet, and they probably taste—”

He raised a hand to silence you, chewing thoughtfully. “Huh. Not bad,” he said with a shrug. “Tastes like sugar.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, though you couldn’t help the slight twitch of a smile on your lips. “That’s because it’s basically just sugar and almond flour. But they’re not supposed to just taste good; they’re supposed to look good too.”

Logan leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching you fuss over the tray. “Seems like a waste of energy, worryin’ about somethin’ like that. Long as they taste good, who cares?”

“You don’t understand,” you said, shaking your head. “This was supposed to be impressive! Like, ‘look, everyone, I can make professional-grade macarons!’ impressive. Not, ‘here, enjoy these sad, sugary pancakes.’”

He laughed at that, the sound low and warm, and you glared at him halfheartedly. “I’m glad my baking failure amuses you.”

"Y/N, I’m serious. They’re fine. Hell, I bet they taste better than anything anyone else around here could make.”

Logan’s hands found your waist, and before you could protest, he effortlessly lifted you onto the counter. A surprised yelp escaped your lips as you steadied yourself, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders.

“Logan!” You glared at him, though your annoyance was quickly melting under the warmth of his amused grin.

“What?” he asked innocently, leaning one hand on the counter next to you while his other stayed resting lightly on your knee. “Figured this was a good place for a pep talk. Y’know, eye level and all that.”

You shook your head, exasperated but unable to hold back a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe,” he said with a small shrug, his smirk softening as he looked at you. “But you’re sittin’ here beatin’ yourself up over somethin’ stupid when you’ve got no reason to.”

“They’re not stupid, Logan. They’re macarons,” you insisted, crossing your arms in mock defiance.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, as he stepped closer. “Y/N, you’re sweatin’ the small stuff. You could burn dinner, and everyone’d still eat it without complainin’—myself included. But these? They’re fine. And you wanna know why?”

“Why?” you asked warily, narrowing your eyes at him.

“’Cause you made ’em,” Logan said simply, his voice quieter now. “You put in the work, and that means somethin’. Might not be perfect, but hell, nothin’ ever is.”

The sincerity in his tone made your cheeks flush. You tried to look away, but his hand was already reaching up to brush a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“You’re too nice to me,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Not nice,” he said with a smirk. “Just honest.”

Before you could come up with a witty response, Logan leaned in, his lips brushing yours softly. His kiss was unhurried, filled with the same steady warmth that he always seemed to carry. You melted into it, forgetting for a moment about the tray of failed macarons still sitting on the counter.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested gently against yours, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Still feelin’ like a failure?”

You bit your lip, trying not to smile. “Maybe a little.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Guess I’ll just have to keep convincin’ you.”

“Logan,” you started, but he didn’t give you a chance to finish. In one swift motion, he scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder.

A startled laugh bubbled out of you as you smacked his back lightly. “Logan! Put me down!”

“Not a chance, darlin’,” he said, his tone filled with teasing amusement as he strode toward the door. “You need some fresh air. Maybe if I walk you around a bit, you’ll quit stressin’ over those sugar pancakes.”

“They’re macarons!” you corrected, your laughter echoing through the hallway as he carried you out of the kitchen.

“Whatever they are, they’re fine,” Logan said firmly, his hand resting against the back of your thigh to steady you. “And you’re gonna see that—after I get you outta this mansion for a bit.”

You let out a resigned sigh, though the smile on your face betrayed any attempt at irritation. “Fine. But you’re carrying me back if I don’t feel better.”

“Deal,” he replied, his grin widening as he turned the corner, earning a few amused glances from passing students.

As you hung over his shoulder, your heart felt lighter. Maybe your macarons weren’t perfect, but with Logan by your side, it hardly seemed to matter.

---

You walked out of the bathroom, towel-drying your damp hair as you adjusted the straps of your light blue silk nightgown. It was new—something you had picked up during a recent mall trip with Jean and some of the kids. You weren’t entirely sure what had possessed you to buy it, but Jean had insisted it was ‘perfect’ for summer, and you figured she was probably right. Now, as the smooth fabric clung lightly to your skin, you found yourself feeling just a little self-conscious.

Logan was sprawled on the bed, one leg hanging off the edge, his back propped against the headboard. A notebook was in his hand, and his brow furrowed slightly in concentration as he sketched something on the page. His expression was uncharacteristically relaxed, a rare sight that made your heart clench.

He looked up as you stepped into the room, his gaze lingering for a beat longer than usual. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and warm. His eyes flicked over you briefly, and though he didn’t comment, the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Hey,” you replied softly, padding over to the bed and sitting on the edge near him. You glanced curiously at the notebook in his hand. “What are you working on?”

Logan tilted the book slightly, as if debating whether to show you. “Nothin’ much. Just passin’ the time.”

Your curiosity deepened as you caught a glimpse of pencil strokes and shading. “Can I see?” you asked, tilting your head.

He hesitated for a moment before shrugging. “Yeah, sure.” He shifted to sit up straighter, his arm brushing yours as he handed you the notebook. “Don’t laugh.”

“Why would I laugh?” you asked, smiling softly as you took the notebook. Logan adjusted his position, his hands resting lightly on your waist as he guided you onto his lap, the warmth of him seeping through the thin fabric of your nightgown. Your back pressed against his chest as you settled in, the notebook resting on your knees.

The first drawing you saw took your breath away. It was a detailed sketch of the mansion’s garden, the shading capturing the way the sunlight filtered through the trees. The perspective was flawless, each flower and blade of grass rendered with care. “Logan, this is amazing,” you murmured, your fingers lightly tracing the edges of the page.

He huffed a quiet laugh against your shoulder. “Didn’t peg me for an artist, huh?”

“I didn’t know you could draw like this,” you admitted, flipping to the next page. This one was a portrait—a student from the mansion, laughing mid-conversation. It was so vivid you almost expected the image to move.

Logan’s hands tightened slightly on your waist as you turned the pages, each one revealing another sketch: Ororo standing by the lake, Jean mid-training, even Scott adjusting his visor. And then you stopped. The next drawing was of you.

It wasn’t posed or polished like the others. It was you caught in an unguarded moment, sitting cross-legged on the mansion steps with a book in your lap. Your hair was loosely tied back, and your glasses perched on the bridge of your nose as you absentmindedly twirled a pen in your fingers. Logan had captured every detail, right down to the faint curve of your lips.

You blinked, unsure what to say, the heat rushing to your cheeks. “You—this is me.”

“Yeah,” Logan said simply, his voice quieter now. “Figured you’d catch on.”

You turned to glance at him, your breath hitching at the way his eyes softened as they met yours. “It’s… beautiful,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan smirked, but there was something tender in his expression. “Guess I got the subject right, then.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you turned back to the sketch, feeling his chin rest lightly on your shoulder. As you flipped through the remaining pages, you caught more glimpses of yourself—small moments you didn’t even realize he’d noticed. Sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea, laughing at something off-camera, standing by the window as the morning light spilled in. Each one was intimate, raw, and filled with a kind of reverence that left you speechless.

As you paused on another drawing, the strap of your nightgown slipped down your shoulder. Logan’s hand moved almost instinctively, his fingers brushing your skin as he gently slid the strap back into place. The touch was so casual, so natural, that it barely registered—but the warmth lingered.

“Didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Logan said softly, his voice low against your ear.

“You didn’t,” you replied, though your cheeks betrayed you. “I just didn’t realize you… paid attention like this.”

“’Course I do,” he said, his tone gruff but sincere. “You’re worth payin’ attention to, darlin’.”

The weight of his words settled over you, and you leaned back against him, letting the quiet reassurance of his presence wash over you. “Thank you,” you said softly, your fingers brushing the edge of the notebook. “For this. For… seeing me.”

Logan pressed a kiss to your temple, his stubble grazing your skin. “Always.”

---

The room hummed with quiet tension as the group gathered in the briefing room. Scott stood at the head of the table, his sharp, no-nonsense demeanor firmly in place as he laid out the mission details. Jean sat beside him, her fingers laced neatly in her lap, while Ororo leaned back in her chair with an air of calm focus. Bobby and Kitty exchanged a few quiet words, their confidence steady despite the high stakes.

Logan sat beside you, his hand resting casually on your thigh under the table. To the others, it probably looked like a typical display of Logan's relaxed attitude—or as relaxed as he ever got. To you, it was anything but casual. His fingers were warm and slightly calloused, a steady presence that grounded you as Scott’s voice went on about tactical points and contingency plans.

“We’re infiltrating a research facility,” Scott said, gesturing to the holographic map projected above the table. “The main goal is retrieving this.” He tapped a button, and the image shifted to a glowing USB drive. “It’s encrypted with data on mutant experiments. We need it to understand what they’re planning. The defenses will be heavy, and we’ll have limited time.”

Scott turned his gaze toward you, and your stomach flipped. “You’ll be in charge of getting the drive. The rest of us will keep the guards distracted. Once you have it, get to the Blackbird as quickly as possible. No detours, no delays. Understood?”

You nodded, twirling the pen in your hand as you absorbed the weight of your task. “Understood.”

Logan shifted beside you. Though he hadn’t said anything yet, you could feel the tension rolling off him. His thumb absentmindedly brushed over the fabric of your pants, a barely-there motion that sent shivers up your spine.

“Good,” Scott continued. “Logan, Jean, Ororo, and I will handle the main group of guards. Bobby and Kitty, you’re with us on crowd control. Everyone stick to the plan.”

As the meeting wrapped up, Logan finally spoke. “You sure she’s going in alone?” His voice was gruff, his eyes fixed on Scott. The unspoken I don’t like this hung heavy in the air.

“She can handle it,” Scott replied without missing a beat. “We wouldn’t assign her this role if she couldn’t.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue further. Instead, his hand squeezed your thigh gently before he pulled it away, as if reminding you that he was there, even if he didn’t agree with the plan.

---

The mission started smoothly. The team split up as planned, with Logan, Scott, Jean, Ororo, Bobby, and Kitty engaging the guards near the facility’s entrance. Meanwhile, you slipped into the building, your footsteps light as you navigated the sterile hallways.

The hum of fluorescent lights and the faint beeping of machinery filled the space. You kept your breathing steady, relying on your time manipulation to slow your perception of movement, giving yourself more control and awareness. It was a skill you’d honed over time, though it still required focus. You reached the central lab and quickly spotted the USB drive Scott had shown during the briefing. It was locked inside a glass case.

“Piece of cake,” you whispered to yourself, pulling out a small device. The gadget made quick work of the lock, and with a soft hiss, the case opened. You grabbed the drive, tucking it securely into the pouch on your belt.

As you turned to leave, you heard footsteps approaching from the hall. Instinctively, you reached out with your powers, halting time in the immediate area. The world around you froze: the footsteps, the hum of lights, even the faint sway of papers on a desk. Moving quickly, you exited the lab, retracing your steps until you reached a side door leading to the facility's exterior. Only then did you release your hold on time, letting it snap back into motion as if nothing had happened.

You broke into a run, heading for the Blackbird as planned. The others would be close behind once they finished with the guards. The night air was cool against your skin as you darted across the open space between the facility and the jet.

---

Logan stood amidst the chaos at the entrance. His claws slashed through another guard as Scott barked orders to hold the line. Jean and Ororo flanked him, their powers keeping waves of reinforcements at bay. It was going fine. Almost too fine.

Until Logan heard voices over the comms—the crackling radio chatter of guards somewhere outside the perimeter, and then the faint sound of footsteps heading toward the Blackbird.

His chest tightened. He didn’t think. He just moved.

"Logan, where the hell are you going?" Scott shouted over the din.

“Something’s off,” Logan growled, already bolting from the fight.

“We’re not done here!” Scott’s voice crackled in Logan’s earpiece, but Logan ripped it out, tossing it aside. He wasn’t going to lose you. Not again.

---

You’d just reached the Blackbird, your hand resting on the ramp control, when Logan appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. His breath came in harsh pants, and his eyes darted around, scanning the tree line for threats.

“Logan?” you asked, your brow furrowing as you lowered your hand. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be with the team.”

“They were handling it fine,” he said gruffly, his claws still out as he moved to stand in front of you like a shield. "Heard movement. Thought maybe they were gunnin' for you."

You stared at him, your confusion giving way to frustration. “You thought—Logan, I’m fine. The plan worked. I got the drive. I was already here.”

He turned to face you fully, his jaw tight and his eyes burning with a mix of anger and fear. “You think I’m just gonna sit back while you’re out here alone? Anything could’ve happened!”

“I can handle myself,” you shot back, your voice sharp but steady. “That’s why Scott trusted me with this part of the mission. You should’ve stayed with the team.”

Logan took a step closer, his presence overwhelming as always. “You don’t get it,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Every damn time... I lose you. Every time. And I can’t—” He broke off, dragging a hand through his hair, the claws retracting with a soft snikt.

Your frustration faltered, replaced by confusion. “What do you mean, ‘every time’? Logan, what are you talking about?”

He looked at you, something raw and vulnerable in his eyes. “I’ve lost you before, Y/N. More times than I can count. Doesn’t matter if it’s this life or another—I lose you. Always. And I can’t go through that again.”

You blinked, your mind reeling. His words didn’t make sense. “Logan—”

The sound of the others approaching cut you off. The rest of the team appeared, battered but victorious, and the moment between you and Logan was shattered. He stepped back, his usual mask sliding into place as he moved to help Scott secure the ramp.

But you couldn’t shake his words. You couldn’t shake the look in his eyes.

---

The flight back to the mansion was quiet and, thankfully, short. As Ororo and Scott expertly landed the jet, Bobby and Kitty were the first off, eager to escape the tension that hung in the air. They exchanged a few hushed words and hurried down the ramp, their footsteps echoing into the still night.

You unbuckled your seatbelt and stood, adjusting your glasses and stretching your legs. Logan was already up, his movements deliberate as he waited for the others to disembark. Jean followed Scott down the ramp, her hand brushing lightly against his arm as they spoke in low voices. Ororo trailed behind them, her gaze calm but perceptive, always attuned to the undercurrents of emotion in the group.

Scott stopped at the base of the ramp, his expression tight as he turned back toward Logan. “We need to talk,” he said, his voice clipped.

Logan leaned casually against one of the seats, his arms crossed. “Sure,” he replied, his tone dismissive. “Later.”

Scott’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he motioned for Jean and Ororo to follow him, and the three disappeared into the mansion, leaving you and Logan alone on the Blackbird.

You stayed near your seat, unsure whether to move or wait. Logan’s gaze flicked toward you, his expression softening as he stepped closer. His hand reached out, fingers brushing your wrist before he wrapped them around it gently.

“C’mere,” he said, his voice low but firm.

You allowed him to lead you to the far corner of the jet, away from the open ramp. Once there, he released your wrist but didn’t step back, his proximity sending a rush of warmth through you.

“What was that back there?” you asked, your voice steady despite the lingering tension. “Why did you leave the team to come after me? I was fine, Logan.”

He didn’t answer right away. His hands rested on his hips, his head bowing slightly as if searching for the right words. Finally, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“You don’t get it,” he said, his tone gruff. “This ain’t just about the mission. It’s about you. I can’t just sit around and hope for the best when you’re out there, Y/N. Not after—” He stopped himself, his jaw clenching as he dragged a hand through his hair.

“Not after what?” you pressed, stepping closer. “Logan, what are you not telling me?”

He hesitated, his eyes scanning your face as if weighing whether to pull you into his truth. Finally, with a quiet sigh, he took a step back and leaned against the wall of the jet, his arms crossing over his chest.

“I’ve lost you before,” he admitted, his voice quieter now but no less raw. “Not just once. Over and over. Five times, to be exact.”

You frowned, confusion swirling in your mind. “Lost me? What are you talking about? I’ve only known you for—”

Logan’s gaze didn’t waver. “Not in this life. In others. You don’t remember, but I do.” He paused, his hands gripping the edge of the wall as if steadying himself. “Every time, I meet you. Every time, we get close. And every damn time, I lose you. To sickness, accidents, war... something always takes you from me.”

You blinked, the weight of his words pressing against your chest. “That doesn’t make sense. Logan, I don’t—”

“I know it sounds crazy,” he interrupted, his voice rising slightly before softening again. “But it’s the truth. The second I met you here, I knew. I’ve known you in ways I can’t explain. And now that I’ve got you in this life, I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to you.”

Your heart ached at the raw emotion in his voice, but it also raced with doubt and confusion. Logan’s words stirred something deep within you—a sense of recognition that you couldn’t explain, like catching the edge of a forgotten dream. But as much as your emotions pulled you toward him, your rational mind resisted.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “Logan, I’m not saying you’re lying, but you’re telling me you’ve known me in other lifetimes? That’s not… possible.”

“It’s the truth, darlin’,” Logan said softly, his voice steady despite the weight of his admission. He leaned back against the wall, his posture deceptively relaxed while his eyes never left yours. “You can twist the logic all you want, but I know what I’ve lived through. And I know you.”

You shook your head, your mind racing to reconcile his certainty with everything you understood about the universe. “I’m a scientist, Logan. Time, space, the way life and death work… it doesn’t leave room for things like this.” You paused, searching for the words. “I mean, even if something like reincarnation were possible, how would you remember? How would you—” You stopped yourself, a lump forming in your throat as you thought of the weight he carried in his words. “Why would you remember and not me?”

Logan sighed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t have all the answers. Hell, I don’t even know why my memories are so damn broken, but I know this much: every time I see you, it’s like some part of me snaps into place. Doesn’t matter how the rest of my life’s a blur—you’re the one thing that sticks. You always do.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. The sincerity in his tone, the desperation in his eyes—it was undeniable. And yet, your logical mind clung to disbelief.

“What do you remember?” you asked after a long pause, your voice quieter now. “About me? About… us?”

Logan’s jaw worked for a moment as he considered your question. “Everything,” he said finally. “The way you laugh, the way you think too much and then laugh about that. The way you’ve always got your nose in a book or a project that’s way over my head. And the way you look at me—like you see something good in me even when I don’t.”

Your breath hitched, and you pushed your glasses up your nose as you looked away, your cheeks burning. “That’s just how I am,” you mumbled, trying to deflect the heat of his gaze.

“Maybe,” Logan said, his voice softer now, almost tender. “But it’s always you, sweetheart. Doesn’t matter if you’re shy like now or bold like before. You’re still you.”

You hesitated, your mind a storm of contradictions. “If what you’re saying is true,” you said carefully, “then why don’t I remember? Why would I just… forget all of that?”

“I don’t know,” Logan admitted, stepping closer to you. He didn’t touch you this time, but his presence was steady and grounding, like the weight of his hand had been earlier. “But does it matter? You’re here now. And so am I.”

You didn’t know what to say. The logical part of you screamed to question him further, to demand proof or push back against the impossibility of his claims. But another part of you—the part that had always felt an unspoken connection to him, the part that trusted him without question—wanted to believe.

Before you could respond, a distant voice called out from the mansion grounds, cutting through the stillness. Logan’s eyes flicked toward the open ramp of the Blackbird, his jaw tightening briefly before his gaze returned to you.

“We’ll talk more later,” he said, his voice low and resolute. “I’m not lettin’ this go, Y/N. Not this time.”

You swallowed hard, nodding despite the turmoil inside you. Logan lingered a moment longer, his eyes searching yours as if memorizing every detail, before he turned and headed toward the ramp.

You stood there, rooted in place, your thoughts tangled and chaotic. If what Logan said was true, it changed everything. But even if it wasn’t, the weight of his words—and the look in his eyes—told you one thing: Logan wasn’t going to let you slip away. Not now, not ever.

---

That night, you found yourself lingering outside Jean and Scott’s room, hesitant but resolute. You raised a hand to knock, but paused, second-guessing. Before you could lose your nerve, you rapped softly on the door. It opened after a moment, Scott standing there with a questioning look. Behind him, Jean was tidying up near the dresser, her head tilting curiously at the sight of you.

“Hey, Y/N,” Scott said, his tone polite but guarded after the mission. “Everything okay?”

You glanced past him at Jean, then shifted back to Scott. “I was wondering if I could talk to Jean alone for a minute,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Scott’s brow furrowed, but he stepped back with a small nod. “Sure.” He looked over his shoulder. “I’ll be in the common room,” he told Jean, his tone softening before he passed you a quick glance and exited the room.

Jean came over, her posture open and inviting as she gestured for you to come in. “What’s going on?” she asked, closing the door behind you.

You hesitated for a beat before finding your words. “I just… I needed to talk to someone. About Logan.”

Jean’s eyebrows lifted, her expression curious but understanding. She moved to sit on the edge of the bed, gesturing for you to take the chair by the desk. “Alright,” she said, her voice calm. “What’s on your mind?”

You sat down, folding your hands tightly in your lap. “He told me something today. Something… huge. And I don’t know what to do with it.”

Jean’s gaze sharpened slightly. “Is it about the mission?”

You shook your head quickly. “No. It’s… personal.” You hesitated, chewing on your lip before continuing. “He said he’s known me before. In other lives.”

Jean blinked, her posture stiffening slightly. “Other lives?”

“Yeah.” You let out a shaky breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions inside you. “He said we’ve met before—five times. That every time, we…” You swallowed hard, the words catching in your throat. “Every time, I die. And he remembers everything.”

Jean was quiet for a long moment, her eyes searching your face as she processed what you’d said. “And you don’t… remember any of this?” she asked gently.

“No,” you admitted, your voice cracking slightly. “And I don’t even know if it’s true. But the way he said it, Jean—it wasn’t just some story. It felt real. He believes it.”

Jean nodded slowly, her expression contemplative. “Logan’s been through a lot. And his memories—or the gaps in them—are complicated.” She tilted her head. “Did he say why he remembers you specifically?”

You hesitated, recalling his words on the jet. “He said… I’m the only thing that sticks. That everything else is a blur, but not me.”

Jean’s expression softened, and she leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on her knees. “Y/N, I don’t know if I can explain why Logan feels this way. But I do know he doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean. If he told you this, it’s because he believes it with everything he has.”

“That’s what scares me,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Because what if he’s right? What if there’s this… this whole part of me that I don’t even know exists?”

Jean reached out, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “Maybe there is. Or maybe this is just Logan’s way of processing his feelings for you. Either way, it doesn’t change who you are right now. You’re Y/N. The person we know, the person Logan clearly…” She trailed off, smiling faintly. “Clearly cares about.”

You looked down, your cheeks burning. “It’s just a lot to take in.”

Jean squeezed your arm gently. “I get that. But you don’t have to figure it all out tonight. Just take it one step at a time.”

You nodded, grateful for her steady presence. “Thanks, Jean. I needed this.”

“Anytime,” she said warmly. “And if you need someone to talk to again, I’m here.”

---

Meanwhile, in the common room, Logan sat slouched on the couch, a glass of whiskey resting on the table in front of him. His gaze was fixed on the darkened fireplace, his thoughts far away. He barely registered the sound of the door opening until Charles wheeled into the room.

“You look troubled,” Charles observed, his voice calm but perceptive as always.

Logan didn’t turn, his jaw tightening. “Not in the mood for a lecture, Chuck.”

“I wasn’t planning to give you one,” Charles said, stopping his chair beside the couch. “But I can tell something’s weighing on you.”

Logan huffed out a breath, finally glancing at him. “You ever feel like you’re living the same nightmare on repeat?”

Charles regarded him thoughtfully. “I’ve certainly seen my share of patterns in life. But I suspect you’re referring to something far more personal.”

Logan’s lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s Y/N,” he said finally. “She doesn’t know it, but… I’ve met her before. Five times, in different lives.”

Charles tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. “And you remember all of this?”

“Every damn detail,” Logan muttered, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “I can’t explain it, but it’s like she’s the one thing I can’t forget. Even after Weapon X, when they wiped everything else—she stuck.”

Charles was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. “And you told her this?”

Logan nodded, his jaw clenching. “She thinks I’m nuts. Can’t say I blame her.”

“Perhaps not,” Charles said gently. “But if what you’re saying is true, then Y/N’s presence in your life may have a purpose beyond what either of you understand.”

Logan let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, if it’s got a purpose, it sure as hell ain’t been kind. Every time I get close to her, I lose her. And I can’t do it again, Charles. I won’t.”

Charles placed a hand on Logan’s arm, his touch steady and grounding. “Whatever the truth may be, you have an opportunity now. She’s here, Logan. Focus on that. Focus on this moment.”

Logan exhaled deeply, his shoulders slumping. “Easier said than done.”

Charles smiled faintly. “Perhaps. But you’re not alone in this.”

Logan nodded reluctantly, his gaze returning to the fireless hearth. Despite the weight of his memories and fears, one thought remained constant: he wasn’t letting you go. Not this time.

---

The days after Logan's confession were a strange blend of tension and normalcy. One evening, as the mansion settled into its usual calm, you found yourself wandering outside. The garden was quiet, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. You wrapped your arms around yourself, the crisp air biting at your skin as you walked aimlessly, your thoughts tangled.

You were startled when Logan's deep voice broke through the quiet. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

You turned to find him leaning against a tree, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. He was dressed in his usual leather jacket, the faint scent of smoke and pine lingering in the air around him.

“I needed some air,” you said softly.

Logan pushed off the tree, closing the distance between you in a few long strides. “Yeah, well, you know how it gets around here. Safer not to wander too far.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You mean safer from the squirrels? Or the mutant squirrels?”

That earned you the faintest twitch of a smile. “Both.”

The silence between you stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You looked up at the sky, the stars scattered like glitter across the inky blackness. Logan stood beside you, his gaze fixed on you instead of the view.

Finally, you broke the quiet. “I’ve been thinking about what you told me.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt.

“I don’t know if I believe in reincarnation or destiny or any of that,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But… I believe you. I can’t explain why, but I do.”

Logan’s shoulders relaxed slightly, though his expression remained guarded. “You don’t have to believe it. Hell, half the time I wish it wasn’t true.”

You turned to face him fully, searching his face. “Why?”

His gaze flicked away, his mouth pressing into a hard line. “Because it’s a curse, Y/N. Every time I get you back, the universe rips you away. I can’t go through it again. I won’t.”

You stepped closer, your heart pounding in your chest. “Logan… I’m here now. Whatever happened before, it’s not happening now. I’m alive. I’m me.”

His eyes met yours, a storm of emotions swirling in them—fear, longing, and something deeper, raw and unspoken. “You say that now, but it doesn’t change what’s coming. You don’t know what it’s like to watch someone you—” He cut himself off, his voice breaking.

You reached out, your hand brushing his arm. “Then tell me. Help me understand.”

Logan stared at you for a long moment, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. Then, without warning, he closed the space between you, his hands gently but firmly gripping your shoulders. His voice was low, almost desperate. “You’re the only thing that’s ever felt real to me. Everything else gets taken, erased, twisted—but you… You’re the one thing they can’t touch. And I don’t know how to protect you without losing you.”

Your heart ached at his words, the weight of his pain pressing down on you. You covered his hands with yours, grounding him. “Then stop trying to protect me from something that hasn’t happened. Stop living in the past or the future and just… be here with me.”

His grip loosened slightly, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Y/N…”

You shook your head, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “We’ll figure it out together. Okay?”

Logan exhaled a shaky breath, his forehead lowering to rest against yours. “Okay.”

The two of you stood there, the world around you fading into the background. For the first time in a long while, Logan allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, this time could be different.

---

He sat on the edge of the bed, the small jewelry box in his hand open as he looked at the ring he’s had for almost two centuries.

The door to Logan’s room creaked open as you stepped inside, balancing two plates in your hands. The smell of freshly baked lemon scones lingered in the air, and a small smile played on your lips as you made your way over to him.

“Breakfast in bed isn’t your usual thing,” Logan teased, his tone warm as his eyes followed you across the room.

You shrugged, setting the plates down on the bedside table. “First time for everything, right? Besides, I wanted to try making these.”

Logan arched a brow, feigning suspicion. “Scones, huh? What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” you said with a small laugh, sitting down on the bed beside him. “Just a lot of flour, butter, and a very questionable amount of zesting.” His lips twitched, but you caught the way his hand subtly slid into his jacket pocket. You raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, leaning over to snag a scone off one of the plates. “These smell good.”

You narrowed your eyes, suspicion flickering in your expression, but decided to let it go—for now. “They’re lemon scones. First time making them. I figured I’d test them out on you.”

“Guinea pig, huh?” Logan bit into the scone, chewing thoughtfully. After a moment, he nodded. “Not bad. A little tart, but good.”

Your shoulders relaxed, relief washing over you. “Tart? I thought I added enough sugar…”

“It’s fine, darlin’. I like it.” He smirked, breaking off another piece. “Guess this means I’m stuck with being your taste tester now.”

You grinned, picking up your own scone. “You’ve survived worse.”

Logan chuckled, his laughter low and rumbling, as the two of you ate in comfortable silence. The summer sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. It was a quiet moment, one that felt oddly normal amidst the chaos of life at the mansion.

As you set your plate back on the table, you caught Logan watching you. His gaze was steady, but there was something behind it—an intensity that made your cheeks heat.

“What?” you asked softly, brushing a crumb off your lip.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head with a small smile. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

Logan leaned back, his arm draping across the headboard as he studied you. “How you’re the best part of this place.”

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. “Logan…”

“I mean it.” His voice was quieter now, more serious. “This place, the people—it’s good, but you? You make it feel like home.”

Your face warmed, and you looked down, suddenly shy. “You’re just saying that because I made you scones.”

He reached over, his hand gently tipping your chin up so your eyes met his. “Nah. It’s not the scones.”

The moment lingered, heavy with unspoken words. Logan’s thumb brushed your jaw before he pulled back, clearing his throat. “So, what’s the plan for the rest of the day?”

You blinked, still recovering from the softness of his touch. “Um… I don’t know. I was thinking about working on a project, but…” You hesitated. “It’s summer break. I guess I could take a day off.”

Logan’s lips quirked into a grin. “A whole day off? Guess miracles do happen.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a pillow and lightly swatting him with it. “Don’t push your luck.”

He laughed, the sound rich and genuine, and for a moment, you forgot about the world outside this room. It was just you and Logan, caught in a bubble of warmth and quiet understanding.

But as he reached into his pocket to absently fiddle with the small box, his expression turned thoughtful again. Logan didn’t know how to bring it up—or if he should. All he knew was that someday soon, he’d have to decide. Not if, but when.

---

Your goggles sat on top of your head, the red indent from the frame pressing into your skin as you scribbled furiously in your notebook. Equations sprawled across the pages in a chaotic but purposeful mess. The lab was quiet except for the soft hum of machinery and the faint scratch of your pen against the paper. You were so focused on your work that you didn’t hear Logan come in.

You jumped slightly when you felt his arms wrap around you from behind, his hands resting lightly on your waist. His voice rumbled close to your ear. “You’ve been holed up in here for hours, darlin’.”

“Logan!” you exclaimed, a blush rising to your cheeks. “You scared me.”

His lips curved into a grin against your neck as he pressed a soft kiss to your skin. “Didn’t mean to. What’s got you so wrapped up you didn’t even hear me?”

You relaxed against him, your hands stilling over your notebook. “I’m working on this project—trying to calculate temporal fluctuations in the presence of quantum anomalies. Basically, seeing how external variables could impact time distortion…”

Logan hummed, his lips grazing the side of your neck as he spoke. “Sounds complicated.”

“It’s not that complicated,” you said, your voice picking up with excitement as you began to explain. “The idea is that time manipulation isn’t linear—it’s like... imagine a fabric, but instead of pulling it straight, you twist and fold it. That’s where the anomalies come from. If I can track the changes in—” You cut off with a startled laugh as he kissed the sensitive spot below your ear. “Logan!”

“Keep talkin’,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. His arms tightened slightly, swaying the two of you gently side to side. “I’m listenin’.”

Your blush deepened, but you continued, trying to keep your thoughts straight despite the warmth of his lips trailing along your neck. “If I can track the changes in the energy fields… I might be able to stabilize them. Or at least predict when an event could disrupt—Logan!”

He turned you around, his hands still resting on your hips as he gave you a lopsided grin. “You’ve got no idea how good you look in a lab coat, do you?”

Your mouth opened, then closed as you searched for a response. “It’s… just a lab coat.”

Logan chuckled, his hands sliding to rest on the small of your back. “Not the way you wear it, sweetheart.”

You pushed lightly against his chest, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your attempt at indignation. “Are you just here to distract me?”

“Maybe.” His grin softened into something more tender as his eyes held yours. “Or maybe I wanted to see my girl.”

Your breath hitched slightly at the way he said it, so casual but so full of affection. “Well, I’m flattered,” you teased, your voice quieter now. “Even if you’re trying to derail my research.”

Logan leaned down, his forehead brushing yours as his hand came up to cup your cheek. “You’re always workin’ so hard. Someone’s gotta remind you to take a break.”

You softened, your arms looping loosely around his neck. “Is that your job now?”

“Damn right it is,” he murmured before closing the small gap between you and capturing your lips in a kiss. It was slow and deliberate, and when he pulled back just enough to whisper against your lips, you could hear the smirk in his voice. “Still wearin’ that cherry lip gloss, huh?”

Your laugh was breathless. “I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“Hard not to,” he admitted, kissing you again, this time deeper, as if he were memorizing the taste. When he pulled back, his thumb brushed over your cheek. “Guess it’s my new favorite.”

Your head tilted slightly, curiosity flickering across your face. “What was your old favorite?”

Logan chuckled, his arms tightening around you as he started to sway the two of you again. “Haven’t had one ‘til now.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into him as the tension from your work melted away. Logan always had a way of grounding you, reminding you that life didn’t have to be so complicated all the time. For now, you let yourself forget about time anomalies and equations, losing yourself in the warmth of his embrace and the way his lips brushed against yours again, soft and unhurried.

---

Usually, you were a light sleeper. The smallest sound—a creak in the floorboards, the subtle hum of the air conditioner kicking on—would have you stirring. But ever since you and Logan started sleeping in the same bed, whether it was his room or yours, you were out like a light the moment your head hit the pillow. It was as if some part of you instinctively knew you were safe, tucked against his warmth, lulled by the steady rhythm of his breathing.

It gave Logan a chance to test something he'd been thinking about for weeks.

The small velvet box sat on the nightstand on his side of the bed, just out of your line of sight. He had stared at it countless nights, his mind torn between the weight of what it meant and the comfort it brought him. That ring had traveled with him through lifetimes, through hell and back. It was the only constant in his pocket, a piece of the past he hadn’t been able to let go of.

And now, there you were again, lying beside him, so close he could hear your soft, even breaths. The moonlight streaming through the window glinted off your glasses, which sat folded on the bedside table. You looked peaceful, serene. He hated to disturb you, but the thought wouldn’t leave him alone.

He reached over slowly, careful not to jostle the bed, and picked up the box. His fingers hesitated on the lid. This wasn’t a proposal. Not yet. It was just... curiosity.

The lid opened with a soft click, revealing the simple yet elegant band. It had been forged in a different era, but it felt timeless, like you. He carefully pulled the ring out and turned it over in his hand, the faintest smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he looked at you.

“Still sleepin’ like a rock,” he murmured under his breath. “Guess that’s new.”

You shifted slightly, your hand sliding out from under the pillow. Logan froze, waiting. When you didn’t stir again, he carefully took your hand, marveling at how delicate it felt in his rough, calloused one.

His thumb brushed over your knuckles, a pang of something bittersweet pulling at him. He slipped the ring onto your finger, holding his breath as it slid snugly into place.

It fit.

Logan’s chest tightened. It wasn’t just the way the ring looked—though it looked like it had been made for you, shining faintly in the moonlight. It was what it meant. A promise he hadn’t been able to keep five times before.

He lingered for a moment, his thumb brushing over your hand before he carefully slipped the ring off again and placed it back in the box. Closing it, he set it back on the nightstand and leaned down, pressing a featherlight kiss to your temple.

“Soon,” he whispered, his voice rough and low.

You stirred, your eyes fluttering open just enough to catch his face close to yours. "Logan?" you murmured sleepily.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You hummed in contentment, your eyes closing again as you snuggled closer. “Mmm... okay.”

Logan wrapped an arm around you, pulling you against him. For now, he could wait. There was no rush. He just needed to take it one day at a time.

---

The cool summer breeze ruffled your hair as you leaned back against Logan’s shoulder, his arm wrapped loosely around your waist. The two of you were perched on the roof of the mansion, a favorite spot for quiet nights away from the chaos of the team. Above, the stars blinked faintly against the dark canvas of the night sky.

You closed Cloud Atlas with a soft thump and set it aside. Logan glanced over from where he was sketching in his notebook.

“Ya done with it?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

“Yeah,” you replied, stretching your legs out in front of you. “It was... alright. Kind of disjointed but interesting.”

Logan chuckled, a sound that sent warmth straight to your chest. “Figures. You and your ‘I have to finish every book I start’ thing, darlin’.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway. “It’s called commitment, Logan.”

“Uh-huh.” He smirked, setting his notebook down. “Speaking of commitment...” He leaned over, reaching into the small bag he’d brought up to the roof.

You raised an eyebrow as he pulled out a book wrapped in brown paper. “What’s that?”

“Somethin’ you’ve been wantin’,” he said, handing it to you.

Curiosity sparked, you unwrapped it carefully, your eyes lighting up when the title was revealed: The Fabric of the Cosmos: Space, Time, and the Texture of Reality.

“Logan!” you gasped, running your fingers over the cover. “I’ve been looking for this everywhere! How did you—?”

“Course I remembered,” he interrupted smoothly, a smug grin tugging at his lips. “Wouldn’t forget somethin’ that makes you light up like that.”

Your cheeks warmed as you ducked your head, shy but unable to hide your smile. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice soft.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, leaning back and draping an arm over your shoulders. “Go on, crack it open. Figured you’d wanna start it tonight.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Settling against him, you flipped open the book and dove into the first chapter, the world around you fading as the words pulled you in. Logan stayed silent beside you, watching with an easy contentment as you lost yourself in the pages.

Two chapters in, you stopped mid-sentence, frowning slightly as something unexpected caught your eye. Pressed between the pages was a small, folded piece of paper. You glanced at Logan, who looked pointedly at the sky, pretending not to notice.

“What’s this?” you asked, unfolding it carefully.

“No idea,” he replied, his voice too casual.

You raised an eyebrow at him before returning your attention to the note. As you unfolded it, a glint of metal fell onto your lap. Your breath hitched. There, nestled against the fabric of your jeans, was a ring.

It was simple yet beautiful, timeless in design, with a delicate band that caught the starlight. For a moment, all you could do was stare, your mind reeling.

“Logan...” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

He shifted beside you, his movements slow and deliberate. When you turned to look at him, his expression was uncharacteristically soft, the usual gruffness in his features replaced by something vulnerable.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice rough but steady. “This ring... it’s been with me for longer than I care to admit. Carried it through lifetimes, through every damn thing life’s thrown at me. And every time, it’s led me back to you.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as he reached out, gently taking the ring from your lap.

“I’ve lost you too many times,” he continued, his thumb brushing over the band. “But this time... this time, I’m not lettin’ go. I don’t care what happens, how crazy things get, I want this to stick.”

He reached for your hand, his calloused fingers warm against yours. “So what d’ya say, darlin’? You up for makin’ this official?”

Tears blurred your vision as you nodded, your voice catching in your throat. “Logan... yes. Yes, of course.”

A grin broke across his face, rare and genuine, as he slid the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly.

Without thinking, you launched yourself into his arms, burying your face in his chest as he held you close. His embrace was solid and unwavering, grounding you even as your emotions threatened to overwhelm.

“Didn’t think I’d ever get here,” he murmured against your hair.

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands resting on his chest. “Me neither,” you admitted, your smile wobbly but radiant. “But I’m glad we did.”

He kissed you then, slow and deliberate, as if sealing a promise. The stars above seemed brighter somehow, the night air warmer. For the first time in a long while, everything felt right.

As the kiss ended, he rested his forehead against yours. “Guess I don’t need that ring burnin’ a hole in my pocket anymore,” he teased.

You laughed softly, wiping at your eyes. “Guess not.”

i could've dragged out them not being engaged, but i couldn't help myself. anyways, if you can't already tell, most of this alternate timeline is going to be just fluff so i hope y'all are ready for it!

(also, in my head they've been dating for a year so it's currently 2004, a year-ish after x2. i'll add the years at the end notes just for people who like it, because i need the dates just because that's who i am)

[halfvalid]

nobody but you

ABOUT

alternate title: the jealous character trope is actually kinda fun to write

rating: teen+

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!vinsmoke sanji | live action!straw hats ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 3.5k

description: sanji flirts endlessly with you while dining at the baratie. zoro is displeased.

tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, fluff, kissing, no use of 'y/n', establishment of relationship, flirting, alcohol consumption, pda

author’s note: i got like ~5 requests to write this so here you guys go! this was a popular one lmao. the story is a vague spinoff to my other fic pretty in that, but it doesn't have to be read to understand this one.

You’d volunteered to deal with the docking fees for the Going Merry, locking up the pirate ship as the rest of the crew entered Baratie. You were just five or so minutes late entering after the restaurant the rest of the Straw Hats had gone into. You’d never seen anything like it before—an eatery right in the middle of the ocean, in the shape of a giant fish. 

You stepped into the building cautiously, glancing around the wide expanse of the main room to try and catch a glimpse of your friends. The restaurant was big, with a mezzanine that you’d entered in and stairs leading down to the first floor. The host, a fishman who was standing at the reservation desk, glanced up to take a look at you. 

“Ah, you must be with the pirates,” he said pleasantly. “Right this way, miss.” 

You nodded, wondering how Luffy was intending on paying for the bill of such a place as you scoped out the area. It was far nicer than anything you would’ve expected—but then again, he’d somehow managed to score the Going Merry from Kaya back in Syrup Village, so you figured he’d work something out. 

Finally, you caught a glimpse of the rest of your crew, tucked away in a circular side booth that the fishman led you to. Luffy brightened upon seeing you, waving you over with a hand so excitedly you feared it was about to flop around like rubber. Considering his powers, that was a more than likely situation, actually. 

“Thank you,” you told the host, then turned towards your friends. “No food yet?” 

“You didn’t miss much,” Usopp said, a little snicker in his voice. “Just the waiter getting our drink orders. He was flirting the heck outta Nami.”

“Oh?” you asked, a smile flickering up your lips. The only open space in the table was between Zoro and Nami—you gave Zoro a confused look, and he gestured down to his swords, which were caught in the ledge between the chair and the wall. You snickered. “Ro. You’re such a loser.” 

“Shut up,” Zoro muttered, hand on your waist as you climbed over him to get to the empty seat. It stayed there for a moment longer, even after you’d arranged yourself in the seat, before he finally dropped his hand. Usopp made a face that you pointedly ignored. 

“What’d you guys order?” you asked instead. If there’d been a menu available, the waiter had probably taken it away; still, there wasn’t much variety in the East Blue, so you could expect there’d be a lot of seafood and not much else. 

“One of everything,” Luffy responded brightly. “So we’ll be able to try the whole menu!” 

“You sure that’s a good idea, Cap?” you asked, brows raised. Luffy shrugged. 

“I don’t see why not.”

“Quit it with the nickname,” Zoro muttered. Neither him or Nami had gotten any more receptive to it since you’d first started calling Luffy it. Usopp didn’t seem so keen on it either—if only because he fancied himself Captain Usopp. Luffy liked it, though, and that pleased you enough to keep using it.

“I’ll get you to start saying it eventually,” you teased, nudging Zoro in the arm. He shook his head, but there was a suggestion of a smile on his lips as he glanced away. “Just you wait.” You turned to Nami, eyes sparkling. “What about the waiter, though? Was he cute?” 

Usopp laughed at that, and Nami gave you a disparaging look. “Come on,” she started. “Not you too. Zoro was all—” 

The sound of footsteps cut off her speech, and you glanced up to find a lean, blond man pausing by the lip of your table. He held a silver plate, upon which perched a variety of different drinks—beers, milk, water. “Here are your drinks,” he said, voice lifting with an accent you couldn’t quite place. “And appetizers.” 

He had just finished placing the last of the drinks balancing on his forearm on the table when the waiter glanced up and registered you sitting there. His expression instantly changed, the crease of his mouth softening into a pleasant smile, his previously-dull blue eyes bright and sparkling. “Well, hello there. An addition?” 

“Yeah, sorry I’m late,” you said. The waiter flashed a grin, white ivories shining under the fluorescents.  

“Oh, absolutely no problem. They say those who are late are fashionable, and you, madam, certainly fit the bill,” the waiter said. Your eyes widened, glancing over to Nami to find her shaking her head, but the waiter didn’t stop there. “I’m Sanji. What can I get for you to drink? We’ve got a wide selection of fine wines that might suit your taste.” 

“Oh, um—” you started, glancing at the rest of your crew again. Usopp was hiding his snicker, and Nami was giving you a tired look. Assumedly this had been the man who’d tried it on her, too—to unfortunate ends, probably, considering how Nami was. Not that this would be any more effective on you. Your eye was already captured by a particular green-haired swordsman, after all. “I don’t really have anything in mind.”

Sanji looked pleased about that, clasping his hands together around his platter. “Ah, let me guess, then. A bayberry or red currant wine, perhaps? Fruity, tart, full of flavor.” he winked. “A feisty drink for a feisty girl.” 

“Can’t say I’ve tried it, but sure,” you said, the faintest smile on your lips. “I’ll let you know how I like it.” 

Sanji grinned, looking rather satisfied with that, a delighted little smile on his lips. “One red currant wine, then. I’ll have it right out. And would you also like to order a meal, or…” He glanced over at Luffy, presumably referencing your captain’s more-than-outrageous order. “Are you all set?” 

“I think we’re set, thanks,” you assured, and Sanji nodded. He flashed you another bright smile before turning on his heel back off to the kitchen. 

Usopp finally let out the laughter he’d been keeping in, choked sounds emitting from his throat as he thudded his chest with a fist. You rolled your eyes, but it was good-natured, letting Usopp laugh. 

“Well, at least I’m not being singled out,” Nami said with a sigh, and you exchanged a sympathetic glance with her. She patted your hand comfortingly, then scrutinized the water Sanji had gotten her. “At least he didn’t put it in a flute.” 

“Zoro, you’ve got competition!” Usopp called, still laughing from the entire ordeal. You glanced to your side, to where the swordsman sat. Zoro had stiffened sometime during the conversation, jaw clenched and arms wound tightly across his chest. He hadn’t even touched the beer that Sanji had set in front of him, eyes fixed carefully to a spot beside Luffy’s head and refusing to look over at you. 

“He’s a waiter,” Zoro said crisply. “He buses tables for a living.” With that, he grabbed his bottle, popping the tab and taking a swig. 

“I don’t know, man, did you see the way he took down those pirates?” Usopp turned to you, all excited again. “Oh, you missed this whole thing! Two pirates were fighting over a seat or something, and Sanji just demolished both of them! You would’ve loved it.” 

“He is a really good fighter,” Luffy agreed. Their words did nothing but seem to annoy Zoro further. 

“Can we not talk about the restaurant personnel? Surely you can think of more interesting topics of conversation.” His tone was sharp, and all icy, and you inched your hand closer to his leg to tap his thigh in question. He glanced down at your touch, but didn’t deign to say anything else. He just picked up his beer again, nursing it while the rest of the crew continued on with their conversation. 

Despite Luffy changing the subject, Zoro didn’t speak, and you kept peeking glances over at him in concern. Your feelings for him had just continued developing ever since Syrup Village, although neither of you had reasonably talked about the closet incident since it’d happened. What with the reveal of Kuro and the escape from the marines and all, there hadn’t exactly been time to. But you’d been on good terms, and the actions he made around you—pressing a hand to your waist as you moved past him, turning towards you first mid-conversation, shoving you down when the marines had fired their first cannon at the Going Merry. 

Before you could whisper to him and question what his silence was about, though, Sanji reappeared, carrying two platters filled to the brim with plates. They were laden with different types of meat and vegetables, sauces glinting under the light and hot steam still billowing. 

He set the dishes on the table, somehow managing to arrange them so they all fit on the countertop. Sanji set down the last plate then turned to you, placing a glass and a bottle of dark crimson wine on the table in front of you. He had to lean over Zoro to reach, and Zoro flinched, but still didn’t say anything as Sanji uncorked the bottle and poured you a glass. 

“Tell me what you think,” he said, all smiles again. “I’ll be embarrassed if it isn’t to your liking.”

You picked the glass up, swirling it carefully inside the glass before leaning down into the cup to take in a full sniff. You tilted your head back to take a small sip, moving the liquid around your mouth to fully savor the flavor before finally swallowing. The wine was sweet, light rather than rich with a delicate tartness that burst on your tongue. You glanced up just to see a giant grin had stretched up Sanji’s mouth, brightening his face up considerably. 

“What?” you asked. 

“Not often do I see a patron who knows how to taste wine properly,” Sanji answered with a little duck of his head. “A lady of class, I see. How do you like it?” 

“Not too strong. I like the tartness,” you answered. “A good recommendation. Thank you.” 

Sanji gave you a little bow, hand flourishing to the side as he dipped his head. “I live to serve.” 

“Yeah, well, why don’t you serve me another beer?” Zoro said abruptly. Usopp coughed, and you could see Nami elbow him out of your peripheral vision. Luffy just looked confused. 

Sanji’s face fell almost immediately after Zoro had spoken, his eyes flickering away from yours. “Of course. I’ll be right back,” he said, a tight smile at his lips. He ducked out of the booth, and Zoro let out an irritated noise, tongue flicking against from the roof of his mouth. 

Usopp snorted, fully this time, and you turned to glance over at him—he and Nami were both hiding their gazes, though you could see smiles cracked along their lips. 

Zoro glared at them. “Shut it.” 

“Not saying anything!” Usopp said, though he half-hid behind Luffy like Zoro was going to lunge over the table to get to him. That didn’t seem… entirely unlikely, actually; Zoro’s right hand rested firmly on the handle of one of his swords, fingers ready to pull the blade at any second. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, wanting to say something. But not in front of everyone else. It wouldn’t be appropriate, you decided. 

Eventually your meal wound down to an end. Zoro got less and less tense throughout it, though you were fairly certain that was due to the drinks he was having rather than any actual reassurance. Sanji, thankfully, came back with the bill in the middle of a conversation you really didn’t want to think about—Luffy and his marine grandfather was not something your mind wanted to dwell on—only for him to disappear again. 

Just moments later, a man with a braided mustache came storming out of the kitchen. Luffy did some more of his Luffy nonsense, and, honestly—you were getting too tired about all of this to pay any close attention. You spared a glance over at Zoro again. His face was as blank as ever.  

“Okay,” Usopp said slowly, a few delayed seconds after who’d undoubtedly been the head chef yanked Luffy out of his seat. “I’m ready to check out whatever’s outside. Let’s go.” 

“What about Luffy?” you asked, perplexed. 

“He’ll find his way out of that,” Nami said with a sigh. She stood up, knocking back the rest of her drink. Since she wasn’t exactly wrong, you got up, glancing over your shoulder at the last of the group that remained seated. “Zoro?” 

Zoro was staring into his now-empty bottle of beer. He still seemed off, the line of his mouth creased downwards, jaw set tight. “Yeah,” he said finally, standing to his full height and slipping out of the booth. He offered you a hand, helping you down from your seat, but said nothing more. 

The four of you headed out to the mouth of the Baratie fish, which boasted a bar decorated with neon lights. You found a place to sit by the fish’s bottom lip, and you turned in your seat, staring out at the sea. The water was dark with the night, peaceful ripples moving across the water that sent shimmering waves across the blue. 

“I’m gonna get a drink,” Usopp said. “Come, Nami?” 

“Huh?” Nami glanced up, and you turned to watch the exchange. “Oh, I’m okay, Usopp. Thanks, though.” 

“No,” Usopp insisted, a smile still pasted on his face as he jerked his head, not very discreetly, in your and Zoro’s direction. Nami seemed to realize, then, eyes going wide before she got up from her seat. 

“Actually, on second thought, I’ll join you,” she said, far smoother than Usopp had been. “God knows you don’t have any money to pay for a drink.”

She breezed past him, ignoring the offended gape Usopp left in her wake before he was scrambling to follow her. You turned your attention towards Zoro—he was lounging in the seat across from you, one hand on his swords with his legs crossed. “Hi,” you said carefully. 

He stiffened. “Hey.” 

You pursed your lips, mulling over the ways to go about the conversation before ultimately deciding to spit it out. “What’s wrong?” At his raised brow, you were prompted to continue— “During dinner. You were acting weird.”

Zoro shook his head, dropping his gaze from yours. You could see the faintest trace of freckles spattered along his cheeks, the yellow glow from the lanterns reflecting off his skin. “Nothing’s wrong. Just… the waiter.”

“The waiter,” you repeated. Zoro shifted, legs uncrossing and hand tightening around his swords again. His voice was low the next time he spoke, and you could barely hear him, having to lean forward to catch all of his words.

“He was flirting with you.” 

Your breath hitched, but you tried to keep your tone casual. “He was flirting with Nami too,” you said, glancing up to meet his eyes. Zoro still wouldn’t meet your gaze, staring out into the East Blue behind you. 

“That’s different.” Zoro’s eyes finally lifted, long eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks as you met eyes. You shivered, gooseflesh suddenly prickling up everywhere on your skin—the back of your neck, up your spine, down your arms and legs. “I don’t like Nami.” 

You tilted your head to the side, meeting his gaze. The words sent a little rush through you; a rush you got practically every time Zoro looked in your direction, actually, which was only a little bit annoying. The amount of influence a man you’d known for, comparatively, not that long had over you had you rolling your eyes all the time, but… you trusted Zoro at this point, as uncooperative as he and Nami had been throughout your entire journey. 

“You’re jealous of a waiter.” 

“Don’t—” Zoro sighed. “Don’t put it like that.” 

“But it’s true. You’re jealous of a waiter,” you said, unblinking. Zoro rolled his eyes, teeth resting along his lower lip in an almost-bite. You snickered, tone sloping upwards to become more teasing, almost sarcastic. “How the mighty have fallen. From me practically begging you to say I looked nice in a dress to this.” 

“Okay, that’s enough,” Zoro said, uncrossing his legs to lean over and press his hand over your mouth. You laughed, surprised, as he leaned over you, eyes sparkling at the reaction. “Not another word.” 

He removed his hand, giving you a look. You betrayed his trust almost immediately. “Of a waiter.” 

“Do you want me to put the hand back?” Zoro threatened, but you were full-on laughing by now, and he couldn’t do anything but watch. The sounds escaped from your mouth, ringing out in soft, lively hiccups. He shook his head, hand falling to his side as he watched you, a ghost of a smile tugging up the side of his mouth. 

“Sorry, Ro,” you said, unable to suppress your grin even as your laughter died off. “It’s a little funny, you have to admit.” 

“I’d like to hear you talk if someone was flirting with me,” Zoro muttered, so quiet you could barely hear. You had to stifle another laugh. 

“Okay, well, unlike you, I don’t get territorial over people I haven’t even talked about my relationship with, but I appreciate it.” You nudged him. “It’s kinda cute.”

Zoro seemed lost in the first half of your sentence, and you could practically see the cogs whirring in his head. For a moment, you were worried that the closet had been a one-time thing—but no, he’d mentioned just earlier that he liked you, so clearly something else was the matter. 

Your worries were answered in just another moment. “...We’re supposed to talk about our relationship?”

“Zoro.” You gave him a look of disbelief, forced to suppress another laugh, though this time it was out of incredulity. “Yes. Have you ever dated anyone before?” 

Zoro made a face at that. “Keeping that to myself, thanks.” He dropped his chin, glancing down at where you were, still leaning over you so you were forced to crane your neck to stare up at him. He tilted his head to the side. “So what kind of talking are we supposed to be doing?” 

“You know, the establishment of being exclusive; a cementation of our feelings; what the relationship entails; where we want it to go…” You paused, watching as his eyes flickered down your face. Your words were going in one ear and out the other. “You’re not listening at all, huh.” 

“Not really,” Zoro said, not sounding very apologetic about it. His free hand came to cup the underside of your jaw, tilting your head up just so. “Is the talking really that necessary?” 

You shrugged, trying to keep your cool. “Eventually.” 

“Eventually,” he repeated, stretching out the syllables of the word as he quoted you. “So we can do it another day.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to hide your smile. “What were you thinking?”

Zoro was slotting his lips over yours before you could say another word, his fingers digging into the hinge of your jaw to allow him better access. You smiled into the kiss, lips curling upwards and open to let him lick into your mouth. 

It wasn’t too risqué, but Zoro took your breath away all the same, an appreciative murmur low in his throat as he kissed you. One of your hands wrapped around his wrist, tugging him insistently downwards so you could get a better angle at his mouth, sucking gently at his lower lip. He nearly stumbled, losing his center of gravity before steadying himself, one hand coming to rest on your ribcage as the kiss deepened. 

“Guys!” Usopp’s voice came somewhere from the right, high-pitched and excessively scandalized. You felt Zoro scoff into your mouth.

“You realize you’re in public, right?” Nami deadpanned, plopping down in the seat next to you. You nudged Zoro’s head away, his hand still on your jaw, half-craned over your figure. Nami looked unimpressed, eyes flickering from Zoro to you and back again. “Get a room. Go back to the Going Merry for all I care.” She extended a hand, placing a mug of beer on the table before you before handing you a matching one. “I got you drinks. You’re welcome.” 

“Thanks,” you said, leaning up to press one final kiss on Zoro’s lips before turning to take the glass Nami had outstretched. Usopp groaned, covering his eyes with one hand and lifting a giant cup of something with the other. It was so big you wondered how he’d even been able to carry it. You eyed him. “You’re going to pass out drinking that.” 

Usopp made a face at you. You just laughed. 

“Sorted out your issues with the waiter, then?” Nami asked, turning to fix a knowing look on Zoro. He rolled his eyes, effortless as ever as he settled back down into his seat. 

“Still don’t like the waiter.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, and Zoro scoffed, picking up the mug Nami had gotten him. You could see the smile behind the glass rim, though, even as he clearly tried to hide it, and matched it with one of your own. 

Zoro ducked his head to smile into his beer. Usopp made a gagging sound. “God,” Nami muttered, but their criticisms might as well have been deaf to your ears by then. 

All you could see was Zoro. 

© halfvalid 2023

[suhsweet]

for halloween ⟡ kmg

wc: 3097 | pair: bf!mingyu x afab!reader | genre: smut, 18+ (minors go away) | tags: horror movie mentions, brief mention of gore (in relation to horror movie), living room sex, netflix & chill, size kink, fingering, reader has medium to long hair

summary: “I want to see if we can fuck each others’ brains out, so good to the point that we forget that there’s a scary movie playing right in front of us.”

authors note: sorry, i’ve been away for forever. with halloween coming up, i rushed this to get it out in time. it's not the best, but please enjoy <3

“Kim Mingyu, we are not spending our Saturday night watching a horror movie out of all things.”

“Sure we are, for Halloween.”

You smack a palm against your forehead, watching your stupid boyfriend flick through stupid Netflix on the stupid TV to search for a stupid horror movie. The options flick past, each movie poster looking more creepy and gruesome than the last.

“You forgot the biggest issue here. We both hate horror movies. We don’t like horror.”

“I know, but I think I might come to love it after tonight,” Mingyu smirks to himself and he waves you over towards him.

“Why do you think that?” Your eyes narrow, watching your soon-to-be-dumped boyfriend choose a film that you didn’t bother to learn the name of. As the screen goes black, the movie poster remains in your mind. All you remember are the blood splatters on the main character’s face, and the shadowy figure behind them.

The image brings about a chill down your spine, causing you to spin around and start heading for your shared bedroom. “Nope. Actually, don’t worry. Enjoy your movie! I’m just gonna hide here for the next hour and forty five minutes...”

“Baby no!” Mingyu laughs and you hear him follow you.

The heavy slap of his house slippers rapidly follow you as you speed away, a squeal threatening to escape your throat. Nevertheless, you're effortlessly scooped up into his arms bridal style.

Maybe if you close your eyes and go limp like a dead fish he’ll change his mind… You give up on fighting your boyfriend's strong hold, allowing your head to flop backward and your arms to your sides.

Entering the living room once more, Mingyu's laughter echoes throughout the apartment. Still holding you in his arms, he falls onto the plush sofa causing the both of you to let out a simultaneous ‘oomph’.

He keeps you sideways on his lap, one arm braced around your waist. He fusses over you, brushing your hair out of your face as he acts oblivious to your squirming.

You're trying your best to wriggle your way out of this cage of yummy tanned skin and muscle before he presses play on the movie. “Let me goooooo!”

“No!” Mingyu grunts, and if you thought his hold was tight enough, he pulls you in even tighter.

After three minutes of Mingyu chuckling at your poor attempts of escape, you eventually give up. It's times like these that you remember that he goes to the gym everyday, and never fails to meet his target protein intake. With him sitting down, you also forget he looms over you like a skyscraper. Fighting him is impossible.

You pout, crossing your arms with a soft, "Hmmph."

Mingyu gives a satisfied whoop as he settles you in his arms. Your attempts of appearing annoyed with him immediately dissolves as the ominous music grows louder.

Suddenly, the lamp beside your sofa switches off. Apart from the TV itself, it was the main source of light in the otherwise dark room. Your head whips over to see Mingyu in the process of retracting his hand from the switch, a devilish grin on his face.

“Where is my boyfriend!?” You practically wail. “My Mingyu wouldn’t even look at the horror section on Netflix!”

Mingyu just chuckles to himself. You bury your face in his chest, and wrap your arms around his neck. The beginnings of the jump-scares and screaming starts, and you feel the thrum of your pulse quicken.

Mingyu coos at you and begins to rub his hand across your back rhythmically. His other hand cradles your head to him. His lips softly press kisses into your hair, slowly trailing down to your temple, cheek, jaw, and then your neck. The kisses gradually go from sweet and brief, to slow and burning. You can hear his lips coming into contact with your skin, and the soft suction of his mouth.

“Mingyu…” You clench the fabric of his hoodie in your fist.

“I had a thought,” he says, completely ignoring you.

“Something you should stop doing after this,” you grumble. Being scared and horny is a weird and unfamiliar sensation.

Mingyu chuckles softly. The light touch of the back of his pointer finger tickles your cheek. You notice the way his eyes become half-lidded, hypnotized. “I want to see if we can fuck each others’ brains out, so good to the point that we forget that there’s a scary movie playing right in front of us..”

A shocked laugh bubbles up inside of you. It takes you a second to process the unexpected turn of events. “For Halloween?”

“Yup,” the side of his mouth quirks up slightly as your eyes meets his.

“You better make me scream louder than her,” you point your finger to the TV screen where all sorts of terror is occurring to the main character.

Mingyu kisses up and down your jaw once more, his fingers gripping your sides as if wondering whether to rip off your clothes or take them off intact. “I’ll try my best, baby.”

Suddenly upright and straddling Mingyu’s lap, your fingers snake through your lover’s hair. Through your lashes, you delight in the way he completely succumbs himself to your touch. Like he's happy to take anything that you'll give him, his head is tilted backwards and his eyes are shut.

Mingyu is chasing your lips when you pull back from the kiss, refusing to have your faces more than an inch away from the other. You’re about to tease his dopey expression when the back of your head is held in place by his hand, and his lips are back on yours. Your teeth clash briefly before you find your rhythm, his tongue teasing your own. And all while this is happening, he’s humping up into you.

“How am I already pussy drunk and I haven’t even taken your clothes off?” Mingyu whispers into your ear, nipping the lobe before kissing your neck. He’s licking stripes, making marks, and worshipping the skin where your jaw and neck meet. The sensation has your toes curling and your eyes screwing shut.

“Min…gyu,” you sigh out. Your hands steady themselves on his firm shoulders and you begin to grind against his heavy bulge. He watches in amazement, lazily palming your breast and breathing heavily.

You’ve always loved the sounds that Mingyu makes when you fuck. His raspy voice was already attractive, but in bed? When it’s heavy with lust and need for only you? It’s fucking heavenly.

“So, so pretty,” Mingyu sighs, eyes rolling when your hips move a certain way. You pause to reach under the waistband of his black sweats, easily finding his arousal.

His hand reaches up to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing the shape of your bottom lip. You immediately catch it in your mouth and start sucking it like you would a lollypop. Your tongue in particular starts drawing patterns on the pad of this thumb. Mingyu’s gaze seems to grow darker as he watches you.

Immediately he retracts his hand, and starts stripping you of your shirt. You help take off the last of it off your body while Mingyu eagerly latches his mouth onto your chest, a hand greedily grabbing and squeezing the one that doesn’t have the attentions of his tongue.

You’re the one holding his head close this time. You watch Mingyu with his mouth on your tits, licking and sucking as if you’re his life source. He looks completely drunk on you, focused on worshipping your body. Your sounds encourage him to reach down into your pants, nudging away your panties to find your slick folds.

His fingers outline the folds of your pussy, then focus on your clit. You hum with approval as he starts drawing circles on the little nub. You feel him go back to tasting your tits, switching between kissing your neck and whispering dirty things into your ear.

“Your fingers… Fuck,” you pant. “I’m gonna-”

“I know baby,” Mingyu takes in your expressions with a satisfied smirk. His fingers speed up, pressing firmly. He pulls your head down to kiss you, wanting to feel you moan against his lips as you cum.

And you do; with your lips pressed to Mingyu’s, holding onto his shoulders as you buck against his fingers. His gaze burns into you, and it's so intense that if you weren’t in the middle of an orgasm, you would’ve blushed furiously.

As you come down from your high, Mingyu's there to hold you steady. You lazily kiss him, telling him thanks with your tongue and soft moans. His fingers dive into your hair, making your pretty tresses snake around his fingers. He plays with the ends of the strands just as you pull away and start to get on your knees.

"What're you doing?" He whines, hands gripping your arms firmly.

You frown. "Returning the favor."

"No, no, no," he rushes out. You're pulled back up on your feet when Mingyu unceremoniously yanks your pants down and pulls you back onto his lap. "I need you now."

You giggle at his desperation, and allow him to manhandle you. He strips himself of his shirt while you line his cock up to your pussy. You’re so close to having him stretch you out that your toes curl from anticipation.

However, after many lessons learnt you remembered to prep yourself at the last second. Effortlessly, you lean down to spit onto Mingyu’s cock, rubbing it all over the tip until it glistens.

Mingyu groans. “It’s so hot when you do that.”

You wink at him. His grip on your waist keep you steady as you slowly lower yourself. On instinct your eyes flicker to his to watch the minor changes in his expression as he feels your body take him. The softening of his eyes, the soft flare of his noise and the plush of his lips caught between his teeth.

And although the two of you have had sex enough times to know the other’s body like their own, the feeling of you bottoming out on his cock never gets old. Feeling so full, and so stretched out, nothing could feel as good as Mingyu’s heavy cock.

His eyes seem to dart across every plane on your face, wanting to take in your expressions too. You tenderly kiss him on the mouth and slowly start to move.

“Fuck…” Mingyu breathes out, his eyes fluttering closed.

As you start to work your body on his dick, Mingyu’s arms circle around your body. His trunk-like arms keep you close to him as he presses his head into your shoulder, breathing heavily and taking in your scent.

It’s so intimate, and perfect until you hear the movie and remember that it's still playing. Your attention unintentionally flickers over to the TV just in time to witness a jump scare. The sudden close up of the monster's morbid features, combined with the loud music has you squeezing Mingyu tighter, and a minor squeak leaves you as you jump in fright.

Mingyu’s perks up, alert. You briefly witness the protective side of him come out. His misplaced concern has you feeling sorry, and a small laugh escapes you.

His expression softens when he looks back at you and sees you smiling. He doesn't say anything, but his face asks you about what happened.

"I saw a jump scare," you admit, noticing your movements have slowed.

Mingyu shakes his head in mock disappointment. "Well that won't do. My theory would be proven wrong..." His warm, large hands trail upwards from your hips to your sides. His warm palms smooth over your upper back, creeping up past your shoulder blades before stopping at the curve of each of your shoulders.

You gaze up at him just as he pulls your body down onto him by your shoulders. The sudden intrusion doesn't hurt, but it makes you gasp. Suddenly feeling full brings an unfamiliar pleasure, and judging by your lover's face, he definitely loves it.

Mingyu's heavy lidded gaze never strays from your face, but he breaths heavily as he fucks up into you. His grip never weakens, even while your chanting his name, even while your legs squeeze together in an effort to halt his movements as you come. He manages to continue to fuck you regardless.

That has you forgetting about the movie in an instant.

"Holy... Fuck," you groan in between heavy breaths.

"What do you think of the movie so far?" Mingyu teases as he lifts you off of him and onto the sofa, on your back. As he covers your body with his own, you feel him tease your breasts. Each nipple is pinched, and the other even gets a little nip.

"Mmm," you gather your hair out from under you in an effort to get comfortable. You reach between your legs to reach for his cock. "What movie?"

Mingyu laughs as he slowly kisses up your chest and onto your lips. Your open mouthed kisses are interrupted by the sensation of him filling you up, and the two of you groan into each other's mouths.

"Fuck, angel," Mingyu's rasping into your mouth. He lays his right forearm down next to your head, while his other arm is next to your waist holding himself up. They both work to keep his weight from crushing you, but allows him to still feel every inch of your skin touching his own. "You don't understand how much I fucking need you."

Feeling caged in like this has you feeling so safe that you start to go delirious. Everywhere you look is Mingyu. If you look up, you'll find him watching you with your name escaping his lips like it was a prayer. If you look between your legs, you can see the silhouette of his heavy cock thrusting into you, making you feel so full. If you look to either side of you, you'd see his muscles working to keep himself up.

"So good," you gasp. He seems to agree from the way that his head dips down to kiss you. Your bottom lip gets stuck in-between his teeth as he sucks at it hungrily.

Unlike you, Mingyu isn’t caged in. He has the freedom to look anywhere but down, to avoid looking at your pretty face and increase the chances of him coming early. Yet, like magnets, his eyes can’t stray far from your pretty lips or flushed cheeks. The little sweat beads that decorate your face are his doing, just like the fucking delectable view of your breasts bouncing from his thrusts.

The possessive side of him revels in the fact that only he can see you like this. He likes that it’s because of him that you’re feeling this pleasure.

Your arms loop around his neck, tugging his head back down. Your lips meet in another round of hungry kisses. The two of you are as close of you can get, sharing the same breath, with your foreheads pressed together. Your skin is slick with sweat– his or yours, you're not sure. Mingyu looks close, and to catch up, you bring your fingers to your clit.

"Good girl," he praises. "Make sure you come with me. Come on this cock, baby."

You can't even give him a proper reply. All you can do is nod as you watch him work you both to the edge.

Without warning, you feel yourself come first and your words come out slurred. "'Gyu, 'm cummin'."

Your words act as the catalyst and Mingyu squeezes his eyes shut. He buries his head into your neck, allowing only you to hear his deep moans.

The last of your orgasms drain from the two of you, and you laugh softly up at your lover. He grins down at you, leaning in to kiss you when the final jump-scare from the movie makes itself known.

A loud screech from the movie’s demon, combined with the sharp music has you both jumping in fright. Mingyu collapse onto you, hugging your body and burying his face into your neck. You instinctively stretch your arms around his shoulders as if that would protect him from any bad guys, and you shut your eyes from seeing any more of the film.

The music changes after a few seconds, making you peek an eye open. The credits are creeping up the screen, and you let out a loud sigh as you go limp.

Mingyu’s head perks up to look at you, and then the TV. “Hey! We did it.”

You laugh, remembering the stupid theory your boyfriend came up with. Your hand rises in a hi-five to which Mingyu slaps enthusiastically.

Mingyu takes in your dopey, fucked-out expression with a toothy grin of his own. You feel him press a smattering of kisses all over your face, and then the pressure of his body rolling away from you to retrieve the TV remote. Even if it's just to turn the TV off, you whine in protest at the idea of having to separate from him so soon. You rise and attach yourself to his back like a koala would a tree.

Mingyu stands, fixing his arms into the crooks of your knees to piggyback you. He walks to your bedroom with a pep in his step. He mumbles to himself, “I won’t be able to sleep all night after that movie.”

His innocuous tone makes you laugh. “Because you were definitely focused on the movie and nothing else.”

“Yeah, yeah. It had demons and stuff.”

“Oh yeah, I remember seeing that too,” you laugh. "Did you see the thing that happened to that person at that place?"

"Oh yeah, totally," Mingyu scoffs. "I know exactly what you're talking about. Wasn't scared of that at all."

He deposits you at the foot of your bed and starts to crawl up on top of you again, his body acting as a cage once more.

The predatorial gleam in his eyes elicits a shiver from you.

“You know, I normally find it hard to fall asleep after watching scary movies too,” you say as Mingyu leans down to kiss your jaw.

Mingyu hums in interest. “Glad to hear it isn’t just me. But I know a couple things we could do to help us sleep.”

You burst out laughing at the cheesiness of it all. Mingyu looks up at you, giving you another of his precious toothy grins. You smile, combing your fingers through his hair and tugging gently. “Alright, alright, let’s get into round two already.”

[mischievousmoony]

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎

𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟻 ⟡ 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎

⟢ james potter x fem!reader

⟢ summary: modern restaurant au; you and james complete side work at the end of your shift . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁2.1k

⟢ warnings/tags: coworker!james, coworker!marauders, anxious!reader, not rlly proofread

⟢ the new hire masterlist ⟡ main masterlist

note: dropping lore in this part ig

"I don't think this restaurant is fancy enough for this to be necessary," you huff, polishing what seems like your millionth spoon.

You're sitting at the rickety break room table, polishing silverware and rolling sets of them into cloths. James is across from you, looking at his reflection in a butter knife.

"No one who eats here is going to care if there are a few water stains on their spoons," you grumble. You're in a bit of a bad mood, this task being the only thing keeping you from going home.

"Nate wants this place to be fancier than it is. Always has," James replies, neatly arranging his knife with the other utensils on the cloth in front of him.

"Always, huh?" you wonder, "Has he always been the manager?"

"As long as I've been here."

"And how long is that?"

"Ah," James pauses in the middle of rolling his napkin, counting in his head, "Technically five years."

You stop in the middle of polishing a fork, looking up to meet James' gaze. "What? Really?" you ask.

James shrugs as if it's nothing, responding, "Started as a busser when I was seventeen. The only person who's been here longer is Remus."

You don't understand the relevance of the comparison, pointing out, "Well, he's older."

James looks at you puzzled, "Remus and I are the same age."

You put the fork down entirely, gaping at James. "Remus is twenty-two?" you ask, your tone conveying your shock.

"Yeah," James says slowly, furrowing his brows, "You didn't know that?"

"No. He looks at least a few years older."

James tilts his head side to side, pondering your comment. "Maybe a little," he admits. "That kitchen wears him down."

You look puzzled as you straighten out the fork you had dropped down on the table, thinking about the revelation that still doesn't quite add up to you.

"If he's our age how in the world is he already a head chef?"

James looks as if he's trying to recall the answer, but comes up short.

"You'd have to ask him. He was hired before me and I guess I never thought to ask that."

"He was a head chef at seventeen?" you ask, eyes widening as your shock doubles.

"No! No, he just worked in the kitchen. Think he was head chef by twenty, though."

"Oh..." you trail off, thinking that makes much more sense than your initial impression. But not by very much. "Still, wow. What about everyone else?"

James' eyebrows raise curiously as he starts polishing yet another spoon.

"What do you mean?"

"They've been here how long?" you clarify.

"Ah. Sirius started about a month after I did. Did you know he started as a server?" James shares the details like it's hot gossip.

To you, it basically is. You can't imagine Sirius doing anything besides bartending at this restaurant.

"Really?"

James smiles at the way your eyes light up in surprise and slight amusement. "Yeah," he confirms. "He absolutely hated it, but doing that he got to train with the bartender before him."

You nod understandingly. It makes sense, you suppose. Bartenders don't just appear out of thin air. You either have to work your way up the ranks or receive formal training, and if you had ever given it any thought, you would have assumed the former.

It dawns on you that you haven't given much thought to your other coworkers at all. Besides what you've naturally found out over the handful of weeks that you've worked here, you don't know much about anyone besides James.

"And the others?"

James blows out some air, thinking, and he takes two rolls of silverware and begins using them as drumsticks against the table. You smile a little at the action.

"Whenever I became a server I recommended Pete for my old busser job. That was probably four years ago."

James had told you stories about him and Peter before, but you wonder how long they've actually known each other.

"How did you know Peter?"

"Known him since primary school."

"Huh," you express your surprise quietly, and James continues on.

"The next hire was Marlene," James smirks as he recalls something. "Actually, she's the reason Lily and Mary were hired."

"Did she recommend them too?"

James chuckles, shaking his head as he explains, "No, Marlene was always complaining about too much testosterone in this place. I think five.. six months after she started, she told Nate that a customer said that they thought management must be sexist because of the lack of girl hires."

"Did someone actually say that?" you ask skeptically.

"No," James laughs, "He totally bought it though cause he hired Lily and Mary a week later. Worked out great for them in the end. You know they go to uni in the city? They’re both here to support themselves through it.”

Your bottom lip finds itself between your teeth as you think about how long everyone has worked here. They’ve all had years to get to know each other. You have already been feeling like an outsider, so learning this just amplifies that tenfold.

James puts his makeshift drumsticks away when he notices you getting lost in thought.

“What’s on your mind?”

Your eyes flash to him, startled out of your train of thought. Shrugging, you try to brush it off and return to your duties to the silverware.

“C’mon, I always know when you’re getting lost in that head of yours,” James says with a teasing yet affectionate tone.

You purse your lips, knowing the chances of James letting this go are slim.

"I just… I don't really know much about them at all I guess. Do they..." you trail off, apprehensive to admit your insecurities.

"What?" James probes gently, softening at your hesitation.

"I’m worried they don't like me,” you admit.

"What!? Why? You’re great! Why wouldn’t anyone like you?” James says it earnestly without a hint of hesitation, and that alone makes you feel a bit better.

You keep your hands busy with the silverware, your eyes focusing intently on the water stains you polish away so that you don’t have to face James as you explain.

“I feel like I haven’t made much of an effort to get to know them. I was nervous, I guess, to talk to new people. Now I’m even more nervous because it’s been so long and I haven’t even tried. They’re going to think–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” James stops you from snowballing into a self-deprecating ramble, placing a hand over yours across the table, also stopping the way you’re polishing a spoon to death.

He dips his head down to try to meet your eyes, which are trained intently on the table. “No one thinks anything,” he says patiently. “Actually, you know what I’ve heard? I’ve heard them say that you’re kind. Maybe a tad shy, but that’s not a bad thing!” The last few words tumble out in a rush, James being worried that you’d take it negatively when he really finds your timid nature so endearing.

Your gaze slowly shifts to meet his eyes. “It’s hard for me to warm up to new people,” you admit, your voice low.

James absentmindedly strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, “You got on with me just fine.”

“You’re different,” you say before you can give it much thought. You would’ve bit your tongue if you had.

“How am I different?” he asks, his eyes twinkling with something you can’t quite place.

“I-I don’t know you just are.”

It’s true, you’re not sure why but after your first day you were already comfortable with James, more than comfortable if you’re being honest. He quickly became your favorite part about this job.

He simply accepts your answer. Normally, he’d say something witty or teasing, but he finds himself at a loss for words.

The conversation fades into silence, neither of you knowing how to proceed, both overwhelmed with confusing feelings.

James can’t stop looking at where his hand rests over yours, not knowing how to retract it. Not wanting to.

Meanwhile, you search your brain for something to say, something that would change the subject. You don’t feel the need to keep talking about this anyway. Although, you’re not sure if you feel better about the situation with your other coworkers or if you’ve just been distracted from it.

“So, five years, huh?” you start.

"Technically," he emphasizes. He slowly retracts his hand as the conversation takes on a more casual tone.

You had barely even noticed his hand there with how natural it felt, but now that it’s gone your hand almost feels cold. You distract yourself by rolling more silverware.

"What does that mean?" you ask.

"I, er, pursued other things for a little while. Didn't work out, so I ended up back here."

You can’t help but wonder what he means, so you ask, "What things?"

James stammers, him now the apprehensive one.

"Sorry,” you say quickly, “I don't mean to pry."

"No, it's okay,” James waves off your worries, “I was playing rugby."

“What, like, professionally?” you ask, not expecting him to say yes.

“Er, yeah," he admits, twirling a butter knife in between his fingers.

You freeze. “Wait. Seriously?”

“Yes,” he chuckles airily.

He notices how your mouth is slightly agape, twitching as it forms the shape of words which never leave your lips. He can tell you’re wondering what happened, but you’re too polite to ask.

“I hurt my knee,” he continues, purposefully avoiding the specifics, “so ended up back here.”

Your face crumples in sympathy. "Oh. Oh, I-I'm sorry," you say, genuine compassion in your tone.

“It’s fine. I’ve come to terms with it," James says honestly. His career was brief— barely even got a chance to start— and while he'll always wonder what could've been, he's not angry about the way his life is turning out.

"So what about you? What would you be doing if you didn't work here?" James suddenly asks you.

"I never went to uni," you say, thinking of Lily and Mary— your age and likely almost done with their studies. "I would've liked to. I don't even know what for."

"You still could."

"Yeah, maybe," you say tentatively, rolling you're last set of cutlery. "That's all my side work. Want me to help with yours?"

"No, you get out of here, I'll be alright," James assures, not wanting to put extra work on your plate, recalling how annoyed you've been with this task.

You nod, standing from the table to collect your things from your locker. You bid him goodbye as you sling your bag over your shoulder.

"I'll see you tomorrow, James."

"Bye, love," he says fondly, waving with a fork in his hand as you go.

On your way out, you pass Sirius, giving him a small wave and a barely audible "goodnight" as he joins James in the break room.

"Night, doll," he calls down the hall as he turns into the room.

Sirius has a wide, knowing smirk on his face when he locks eyes with James.

"Rolling silverware?" Sirius asks, his tone dripping with his amusement.

James shrugs, "Yeah, so?"

Sirius tilts his head, chuckling, "I thought your side work was to prep garnishes today."

"Ah," James fumbles with some silverware as he responds, "I finished that ages ago. So, I offered to do Lily's side work."

"Oh, did you?" Sirius says with mock surprise.

"Yup. Just doing a favor for a friend," James grins innocently.

"Or trying to get some alone time with that work crush of yours."

"I do not have a work crush!" James quickly defends, feeling the heat rising to his cheeks. He almost feels guilty, Sirius is at least right about the alone time part. James still misses having you by his side as a trainee, but after you're conversation today he feels bad about stealing you away from your other coworkers.

Sirius raises his hands in the air, "Alright, mate. Whatever you say."

"You're a prat. Why don't you come help me with this?"

Sirius looks incredulous at the suggestion, "I'm not the one who volunteered to do extra work!"

James rolls his eyes, picking up one of the many forks he has left. But truth be told, he didn't quite mind having to do the extra work— spending time with you made it well worth it.

Sirius snorts at the sudden lovesick look on James' face when he gets lost in his thoughts, and makes a mental note to wager a bet with Remus tomorrow on how long James will last.

[thatbanditqueen]

The Cactus Tree TOST One-Shot Snippet

I've been writing this on and off for months, among about five other wip chapters ficlets etc....I am setting a goal for myself to finish it this week because I want to return to this world and dive back into Elvis and Midge and explore different times from my fic The Only Sure Thing.

This is a snippet of a TOST one-shot I'm writing set in 1968. Midge has been on her own working in TV for the last couple of years, and after a rough up and down journey is trying to claw back her career. One Friday night she finds herself stuck in Palm Springs when a blast from her past rides out of the desert and back into her life....

Warnings: Nothing...yet.

Let me know if you want to be tagged or tagged - I copied an old taglist from my last TOST posting..... thanks to my friend whositmcwhatsit for alpha-ing this post from the afterlife outside tumblr and to @vintageshanny for cheering me on in my writing when I doubt myself.... To all my friends here in elvis fic world I am grateful to connect with you through him

9:34 p.m. Friday, December 11 1968

Starlite Diner, Palm Springs

I was looking out at the desert as I whined to Rona. I caught my scowl staring back at me in the mirror above the payphone and frowned deeper.

“Midge? You still there?” 

Rona’s voice echoed over the phone line.

I balanced the phone on my shoulder and wiped off the liner and mascara under my eyes, doing my best to smooth the flyaways jumping off the sides of my french twist.

“Sorry, Ro. Lost my train of thought - what was I saying? Oh yeah, no, so then she just took the script and told me - no, ordered me - to come back tomorrow morning. She must know I drove out here from the studio. What does she think I’m going to do for the next 14 hours?”

Rona’s voice purred back at me, warm and reassuring like a cup of coffee on a cold day. 

“Oh pussycat, you know how this game works. Lucy can do whatever she wants. Besides, I thought you told Helen you’d do whatever it took to - ”

“I know,” I sighed, thinking of my desperate promises. Promises I had made when I got out of The Farm and was back in LA, made begging my old boss for a second chance. “I just  - I didn’t think she’d stick me with Bobbi. That woman has it out for me. You should have seen her jump at the chance to send me here.”

“Stop sulking, Midge, it will give you wrinkles. You’re in one of the most exclusive resorts in the world. Why not take the opportunity and spend the weekend out there.”

I glanced over my shoulder at the lifeless main street on the other side of the diner and sighed.

“I’d consider it, but it’s emptier than Macy’s after a sale. I'm at the edge of civilization out here, I can’t figure why people make such a fuss about getting away to Palm Springs. Who would want to spend time here?”

Rona coughed. Pointedly. “Ahem. Well, me, for one.”

“Oh yeah.” I gulped, remembering why I’d called.  “So, can I crash at your pad?” 

“You know I would almost be insulted, Miriam, if I weren’t used to your meshugas.”

I could hear Rona rolling her eyes.

“I know I know,I’m a thoughtless jerk always sticking my foot in my mouth.”

“Enough with the half-assed apologies already. Of course you can stay at my place, Midge. All I ask is that you keep an open mind and try to enjoy it. Because getting away from civilization is the whole point.”

“I guess I just don’t get the appeal.” 

“Peter Lawford has the house next to mine. If you see him, you should ask him why he'd want to hide out from his wife or the studios and their morality clauses, and spend the weekend suffering by the pool with his harem of mistresses. Behind all those tall hedges. In our gated community.”

“Hmm, so you’re saying Palm Springs is for sex. Of course. But wait, you can’t tell me Lucy is coming out here to have secret orgies.”

I heard a dish rattle, and turned to see the diner’s lone waitress filling my coffee cup back at the counter. I wondered if she had heard me and smiled awkwardly at her as I listened to Rona.

“You might be surprised.”

“Rona. Not everything is about sex.”

“Ok, so, it’s also privacy. Status. And relaxation. You should try it. Maybe you’ll hit it off with Peter.”

“Ha, no thanks. I’m done with men for a while.”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous. A good schtupping is just what you need, it’s been what, a few months?”

I caught myself frowning again and twirled the pay phone, clearing my throat.

“It’s been - a  - look. I’m just starting to get things back together, I don’t want any distractions.”

Rona tutted at me.

“Who said anything about a distraction? You’re overthinking this. Unless, what, is this some sort of AA thing or something?”

“No, not really. It’s more of a me rule.”

“OK, but wait, what if Peter doesn’t stick it in all the way, just an inch-”

“Rona!”

“That doesn’t break your rule, right?”

“That might work for the Kennedys, Ro, but not for me.”

I had to cover my mouth after another curious look from the waitress followed our burst of giggles.

A small potted cactus sat next to the cash register at the front of the diner and I stood there, studying it, as the  waitress drew me a map to Rona’s place. 

I nodded at the plant. 

“Isn’t it hard enough trying to avoid these things outside without bringing them inside as pets?” 

The waitress paused and looked up at me. Her face was framed by her long blonde hair hanging down around her face unstyled. Upon closer inspection, I realized that she wasn’t wearing any make-up. Or a bra.

“My heart is full and free like the cactus tree.” She hummed lightly. “I think she’s beautiful -”

“- she?” I mused.

“Oh yeah, she’s definitely a girl. She told me so when I liberated her.”

“Liberated, huh?”

“Mmmm. From the sun. Takes a lot for cacti to survive in the desert. Can’t blame them for trying to protect themselves, and I think it makes her all the more beautiful.” 

“Well, that’s a first. If being prickly makes you beautiful, I must be a knockout.”

“Huh?” The waitress looked up at me, eyes squinting, as if I’d just grown a third eye.

I looked at her, like really looked at her, for the first time that night. We were probably about the same age, I bet she was 25 or 26, but she spoke to me like I was some 100 years old. I wanted to pick up her liberated cactus plant and use it to pop her free spirit. Instead, I smiled sweetly and took my map.

“Well. She doesn't seem very free to me, all caged up in here just for you to admire.”

The waitress started to say something, but I didn’t hear it. I was suddenly distracted by a large cloud forming in the desert behind her.

“Say, is that some sort of nighttime sandstorm?”

She looked over her shoulder where I pointed.

“Ugh, it’s those bums -  just a bunch of rich teens from Las Palmas racing the sand dunes.”

“You’d think it would be illegal after dark.”

“It is.” The waitress shrugged. “But those pricks don’t think the rules apply to them, and I guess the cops agree. No one ever comes after them. They've done it every weekend this month.”  

The sand clouds grew until they were not more than fifty yards off, and then an army of ants drove out from under the dust, growing larger as they swerved haphazardly toward us.

“Well, I guess if you can’t find the nightlife you have to make it yourself.”

The waitress folded her arms and directed her disdain towards the fleet of buggies zooming over the sand.  “Oh yeah, they think our parking lot is just here to be a turning point in their relay race.” 

“Teenage boys are idiots. How did our species ever evolve?”

She nodded halfheartedly, quiet as we watched the buggies jump the top of the concrete wall that divided the desert from this part of town.

“Gosh, I thought for sure he was gonna eat it.”

“Nah, they make it alright. ” She turned, nonchalantly, to finish my map. “S’like Dylan said, the rich man drives his Lincoln past the red light with a grin.”

“Ain’t it the truth.” 

The sounds of teen boys hooting with delight followed me to my car, and I smiled at their youthful exuberance, trying to think of the last time I’d done anything reckless. Probably the last time I’d seen Elvis. 

And then, as if my memories were coming alive, one of the racing karts crossed my path and I was staring into a face I knew all too well. 

I blinked, frozen in my tracks. Was I hallucinating? This was no teenage boy. No. It was Alan. One of the guys in Elvis’ entourage. One of the guys I’d known almost all my life.

Alan had watched from the sidelines living, like I was, in Elvis' LA homes as I’d gone through all the cliche stages of first love in the arms of an insecure movie star incapable of fidelity: smitten idiot, playmate, devoted lover and scorned lunatic. And Elvis had played his roles impeccably, hitting all the marks of besotted loverboy, impulsive child, jealous partner and spiteful cad. 

One of the good things to come out of all those sessions at The Farm was understanding that I had done this to myself. And working with Shirley, my AA sponsor, I’d been able to let go of all the resentment I had carried around toward him like a bucket of mud I’d been carrying around on my head. When I was honest with myself, I knew that I had been with Elvis, as always, the architect of my own demise.

I had known from the moment I first smiled at Elvis that the spark I’d felt in my belly was dangerous. That to pursue him was a bad idea. Before we even kissed. He’d been dating Anita then, along with every co-star and a cadre of fairweather girls from Los Angeles to Memphis.  Facts I had known well, courtesy of my brother,  Artie, who, like Alan, was in Elvis’ entourage. Yes, even at 17 I had known all the way to my core that getting involved with Elvis was a no good, very bad absolutely train wreck of an idea. 

But I hadn’t been able to help myself. 

And it had been the mistake that kept on giving. Even after I had stopped living with him, even after I had sworn to never see him again, something would happen. I’d run into him, or Charlie would call me out of the blue, and suddenly I forgot all the pain and heartache and ran right back to him like a ship purposefully charting course for a hurricane. Until she destroyed herself.

I wasn’t that girl anymore though. I had left her and all her other bad decisions in New York when I went to The Farm a year ago. I was smart. I knew better. And I knew how to act like it too now. 

And so, when I heard his voice there, in the cool desert night, bringing me back from the past and into the moment, I took a deep breath and steeled myself against the pounding of my heart

“Quit scaring the locals, Hog Ears. Damn boy.” The buggie stopped moving and Elvis turned toward me. One arm was snaked around a petite blonde, while the other waved at me and his tone shifted to the aw shucks Southern charm he used on unsuspecting strangers.

“Sorry, ma’am, you’ll have to forgive my friend here - he can’t drive for nothin’ - “ 

Our eyes met and I blushed when the recognition knocked the words out of his mouth.

His tall, slim body was still only for a beat as he did a double take, and then launched out of the buggie like a rocket to pull me into a tight embrace before I could even say hello.

“Miryum, is it really you? I can’t believe it.”

“Uh-huh-um-yeah.”

His eyes were bright as he looked me over and I pinched my nail into my palm trying to quell the nervous flutter in my chest.

“You out here looking for me, honey?” 

His voice was low and sweet, and his hands found my waist with a familiar squeeze. They rolled over my body the way he might run them over an old coat, checking to make sure his wallet was still where he left it.

I wanted to collapse into him, soak up the smell of sweat and cheap cigars and earthy desert air that I found in his chest and stay there forever. The intensity of his fingers grasping my sides tempted me, but then I heard a cough and found a sweet blonde looking back at me over his shoulder with an even sweeter smile.

Elvis stepped back and shook his head as if coming out of a daze, then ran his hand through his hair, but it didn’t do any good. The black shiny mess flopped back out like a mushroom over the sides of his head.

I laughed out at it and he narrowed his eyes at me, licking my shin with the tip of his shoe and then shuffling back and jamming his hands into his back pockets as he glanced at his companion.

“Who’s your friend?”

“Oh, uh, this is “

The blonde smiled bigger as she stuck out her hand and tried to hug me too. She must be a native Californian.

“Susie.”

Elvis rested his arm on her shoulder and pointed at me, 

“This is uh Miryum, Artie’s - uh - friend. Sister. From Memphhiss.” 

Susie took my hand in hers, warm and kind all the things I was much to try to even try to fake.

“Neato, I love that guy. He’s so fun. You guys here for the weekend?”

Fun. A word I never applied to my brother and his permanent frown. I smiled even bigger and friendlier. 

“Oh, no. I’m actually in Palm Springs for work. I didn’t even know you had a place out here.”

His steady gaze faltered, just for a moment, like a candle flickering in the wind.

“I guess it’s been a while, ain’t it.”

“Mmmhmmm.” 

The husky, low grain of his voice sent a shiver down my back and I had to look at the ground to escape his eyes as they searched my face.

“Artie was just here last weekend, wasn’t he, El?”

Elvis looked up at the sound of her voice, as if he had forgotten she was here. Even as his hand hung over her shoulder. 

“Huh, what honey? Oh yeah, we should get back. Joe and Richard liable to have eaten all the chow.”

Elvis gave me a kiss on the cheek and murmured how good it was to see me.

“You need anything, you just let me know, ok? Anything, baby. I mean it.”

His breath was warm against my skin and I had to bite my lip to stop the sigh at the back of my throat from coming out. I nodded and mumbled at my feet.

“I know.”

I hit his shoulder, and Susan ambushed me with a big hug and whispered “I hope I see you around.”

Our bonding was cut short by Elvis’ loud stomping back to his buggy and I watched her scurry to catch up. He waved his hand in farewell from the go-cart, and with a final wink, started his engine and descended back into the desert from whence he had emerged like a mirage at an oasis.

I clenched my fists and sighed at the moon; Ready to let gravity take me down to the dirty, rough ground of this empty parking lot, but, instead, I took a deep breath and summoned the strength to force my legs to carry me to my car and contemplate the twisted sense of humour of the universe.

Six months ago, I had returned to LA and I had purposefully been avoiding Elvis since coming back. Of course I would run into him here. Tired, disheveled, hardly able to form complete sentences after a day from hell.

It was almost too absurd to believe.

I began to doubt if this had really happened. Had Elvis been here at all, or was I having a nervous breakdown?  Maybe I was still at The Farm, strapped in for another electric shock treatment and, any minute, I would come too, sweaty and naked under a robe, screaming as I convulsed into the lights above my head. 

I slapped my cheek.

“You’re crazy, you know that? You need sleep.”

Scott McKenzie was on the radio, and I began to sing along as I put the car in first gear. Then there was a loud slap on the window and I screamed at the top of my lungs as I turned to find Alan standing there, asking me where I was staying.

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[nakylvr]

— ERASE

ning yizhuo (aespa) x fem!reader

genre: fluff

summary: after realizing you have a crush on ningning, you try to avoid her at all costs, keeping it a secret. you thought you were doing well until she comes and confronts you one day

warnings/tags: language, non idol!ningning, best friend!ningning, friends to lovers, confessions!

wc: 1,2 k

aespa masterlist | main masterlist

the moment you realized you had feelings for ning yizhou, you knew you were doomed. you thought that maybe it would go away, that it was just you having a once-in-a-lifetime thought. you were proven wrong the next time you were with her. 

you sat on the bed in her room, scrolling through social media on your phone while she was getting ready to go out later that night. you were so immersed in your phone that you didn't even hear yizhou walk out of the bathroom until you felt the bed dip and you looked up from your phone to see her sitting down in front of you.

your eyes quickly viewed what she was wearing and a blush spread on your face just as fast, resulting in you averting your gaze and looking back at your phone.

“what? you don't like it?” she said, a pout on her face.

you looked back up and shook your head, putting your phone down. “you know you always look great, yizhou,” you responded. 

“but i want your opinion,” she replied, still pouting.

“you look great,” you immediately told her. 

a smile quickly formed on yizhou’s face and she got up off her bed, walked over to her vanity and grabbed a few things and walked back over to you. you looked up at her with confusion and she just smiled at you. “can i please do your makeup?” she asked.

“what?” you accidentally let out. “i mean- yeah, i don't mind.”

yizhou’s smile grew wider and she climbed back onto the bed. only, instead of sitting down in front of you, she straddled your waist and peered down at you from above, her hair falling to the sides of her face and close enough that it gently tickled your cheek. you stared up at her with a blush growing on your face again, and you thought you were going to pass out at that moment. from that moment on, you knew you were doomed.

you had feelings for your best friend, ning yizhou. 

you tried your best to avoid her at all costs after that interaction. you couldn't believe it. to have feelings for someone was one thing, but to have them for your best friend was a completely different thing. 

you tried avoiding her, hoping it would work. the keyword was tried. and it did, for a little bit of time, just not for very long. it was immediately noticeable to your mutual friends that quickly spotted the two of you not being around each other as much. but, you would never speak of these feelings ever. never ever, ever. at least, that’s how you wanted to keep it. that didn’t exactly work once it became more obvious you were spending less and less time around yizhou. 

you would decline going out with your friends if it meant yizhou would be there, and she always was. you wouldn’t respond as quickly to messages to try and not make it obvious that you would reply within five seconds of getting a message from her. you attempted to avoid her at all costs. while you were doing your best to avoid all conversations and anything with her, she was left trying to run after you every time she spotted you and you would quickly turn the other way and leave. so what did she decide to do? show up at your house. 

you had been home for a few hours and were sitting on your couch when you heard knocking at your door. you looked at the time and let out a sigh before getting up and heading to your front door. when you opened the door, you were met with yizhou standing in front of you, making your eyes go wide. 

“wh-what are you doing here?” you question. 

“i wanted to talk to you,” yizhou answers. “will you let me inside?”

“yeah, yeah, come in,” you nod your head, opening the door wider for her to walk inside. you close the door when she walks in and you can feel your anxiety growing as you walk back to your couch and sit with yizhou following shortly behind you, sitting next to you. “so, uh, what’s up?” you say, clearly nervous. 

“you’ve been avoiding me the past few weeks, why?” she gets straight to the point, looking over at you. 

“what?” you laugh nervously. “i haven’t been avoiding you.” 

“don’t be dense,” she shakes her head. “i just want to know if i did something wrong, is all.”

you look at her with confusion on your face and in your voice as you respond. “huh? no, you didn’t do anything wrong! really!” you wave your hands. 

“then why have you been avoiding me?” she asks. 

you hesitate to answer that question. while you had been reassured by your friends that if you just said it, it would be better than never saying it and you two falling apart because you were too scared to admit your feelings, you were still terrified by the outcome. you didn’t know what was going to happen the second you confessed your feelings, and that alone gave you enough anxiety to never say it out loud. you avert your gaze from hers which were staring deeply at you, fiddling with your fingers as you try to form an answer. “well, erm. it’s because well, uh, i have feelings for you,” you murmur quietly. 

there’s a silence that fills the apartment between you two and you aren’t sure if it’s a good or bad silence. you don’t bother looking up from your hands, already expecting the worst to come when yizhou grabs ahold of your hands, making you finally turn your head and look over at her to see a smile on her face. 

“is that seriously it?” she asks in an almost teasing manner, the smile growing on her face. 

you nod your head slowly as a response, not trusting your voice to speak the right words. 

she lets out a giggle, making you look at her confused before she starts talking again. “well, that’s good! so do i! i was soooo worried you like, hated me or something so this is a lot better than i expected!”

“what?” you let out. “you actually like me?” your so incredibly confused that you don’t even notice her leaning closer towards you until your faces are merely inches apart. 

“yes!” she grins at you. “i have for a while now, you’re just a little dense.” 

“o-oh,” you stutter out. your eyes flicker all across her face before stopping at her lips, which she notices. 

“can i kiss you?” she asks in a soft voice. 

“y-yeah,” you nod slowly. 

yizhou smiles at you before leaning in more and pressing her lips against yours. her hands instantly find your face and cup your cheeks, smiling into the kiss as your arms wrap around her waist, pulling her closer to you. when you both pull away, there are idiotic grins on both your faces staring back at each other. 

“i’m sorry for avoiding you,” you say. 

“don’t worry about it,” she shakes her head. “i get it.” 

“do you maybe wanna stay for the night? you’re already here,” you add on, your thumb rubbing the skin of her waist. 

“wow, you move fast don’t you?” she teases. “sure, i am here after all,”

“great,” you smile, leaning in and kissing her again. 

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓣𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱 [Cookies]

Jimin isn't sure anymore what to think about you and Jungkook. But maybe tonight he realizes something.

Tags/Warnings: Human!Yoongi, Human!Jimin, Rottweiler hybrid!Jungkook, Cat hybrid!Reader, Enemies to friends to lovers, mentions of past trauma, some Yoonmin here and there oops, Main story focus are MC and Kook though, some Angst in this, major fluff too, christmas!!!

Wordcount: 3.1k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jimin has no idea how to talk to you anymore.

It’s not like you became an entirely different person overnight, or as if Jungkook actively keeps him away from you- it’s just.. awkward. He’s seen you search online for jobs, something you’ve never done before, or at least you’ve never actually seemed to be interested in that. And neither has he ever wanted you to do get one- he’s making enough money for the both of you, you don’t have to provide for yourself.

But he believes that Jungkook might have something to do with it.

“jiminie?” You say, skipping towards him to put your phone down, a page opened. “can you drive me to my job interview tomorrow?” You ask, and Jimin frowns, looking at the page on your phone.

It's an email. You’ve been apparently asking for a job at a local grocery store to just help stock the shelves and such, but Jimin worries. “are you sure?” He asks, and you deflate quite a bit. “eight hours a day is a bit much to start with..” he says, and you huff, slumping over onto the kitchen counter.

“But I wanna have my own money too…” you mumble, complaining when the door opens, Yoongi entering.

“But baby you don’t have to? Just tell me how much you need and I’ll give it to you.” Jimin says, earning some attention from Yoongi who gets himself a bottle of cold coffee from the fridge.

“But then- noo, that’s not right!” You huff, tail smacking against your chair you’re sitting on. “no, I need my own for that!” You complain. “eight hours isn’t a lot! I can do that!”

“Can I look at it?” yoongi asks, and Jimin slides the phone over with a sigh. “eight hours five days a week. Have you ever worked before?” He wonders, and you sheepishly shake your head. “then eight hours might be a bit much as a start. Don’t they offer part time positions?” He asks, and you shrug.

“I’ll get less money then though..” you say disappointed, leaning back a big as your legs swing around.

“Work your way up then.” Yoongi encourages. “it’s a good job, decent pay even as part time.” He mumbles, looking through the job description. “I’d like to look over the contract before you sign it though. Just to make sure it’s all good.” He says, turning around to throw the bottle in the trash.

Jimin notices instantly how you look at Yoongi.

“There’s my princess!” Jungkook however breaks through the moment, picking you up from the chair you’re sitting on to hug you, tail wagging with excitement. He’s apparently just come home from work to pick you up- like he always does.

These days, the moment Jungkook is available, you’re gone out of sight.

Yoongi has already slowly brought up the topic of potentially changing the living situations permanently in the future- switching around so to speak, with Jungkook and you living in one house, while Jimin and Yoongi occupy the other. Of course, this wouldn’t be official due to the fact that both Jungkook and you are still hybrids and therefore legally not allowed to rent or own any land or property, but it could still work as long as the paperwork stays the way it is right now. Jimin isn’t really sure if he likes the idea.

He knows it’s inevitable, but that doesn’t mean he likes it.

Jungkook and you are gone as quickly as always, with the dog hybrid helping you wrap your scarf around your neck to keep you warm outside. He’s taking you for a bit of a date- he’s doing that a lot in fact. But especially now- with Christmas fast approaching and your love for all things sweet, it’s the perfect time to spoil you rotten.

You don’t tell him about your job hunting. You kind of want it to stay a bit of a secret.

“Do you know what you’d like as a Christmas present yet?” He wonders, warm hand holding yours as he swings them a bit, both of you walking through the busy streets full of food stalls and advertisements. You think a little, unsure.

“I don’t know.” You admit. Jimin and you always exchanged tiny presents, never truly having to think about what to gift the other.

“hm, I’ll have to think of something then.” He chuckles, squeezing your hand a second before he looks ahead again.

Back home, Jimin and Yoongi are arguing once again. “I’m just saying- what if they can’t keep the house tidy? She’s pretty messy..” jimin worries.

“Jungkook will get her to clean up, don’t worry he’s a bit chaotic but they’ll manage.” He easily defends. “jimin, I know it’s hard to let go but-“ he sighs when Jimin turns around, facing away from him. “-she’ll stay close? Literally next door.” He offers.

But it’s not enough. He wants you home.

“She’s already looking for a job. She clearly must be thinking of it too.” Yoongi says. “You can’t keep that away from her. She deserves that freedom.”

“She never worked before. She wont last.” Jimin says, sitting down again to put his head in his hands. “I don’t want her to go through that feeling of failure. She’s fine as it is- why does she suddenly want her own money? Just because Jungkook works?” He whines, and Yoongi shrugs, because he has an idea as to why you could be doing this.

“Does it really matter?” the older male says, sitting down as well. “this isn’t about the money, or the work, or the house, and you know this.” He tries to reason. “it’s about the fact that you don’t want her to leave.”

“Why can’t I have you both?” jimin softly complains. “it feels like I have to choose. Like.. I’d have to take Jungkook away from her to get her back.” He reveals his feelings, making Yoongi stay silent.

Because there’s really nothing he could say to make him feel any better.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Yoongi waits for you in the car as you return from your job interview, offering him the documents to read through. “You know you don’t have to do this, right?” yoongi asks, reading through the papers with a pair of glasses.

“Yeah, but I don’t.. want to just be lazy.” You mumble, playing with your new acrylics you got done with Jungkook. They’re Christmas themed. “Jungkook.. works a lot. And he's always so proud.” You say quietly. “I know working in a grocery store isn’t as cool as his job but..”

Yoongi looks over at you, a gentle expression on his face. “You have a lot to be proud of too.” He says, giving the documents back to you. “and even just part time is already a big thing. You’re a different category than Jungkook, remember that.”

“How do you know?” You ask, surprised.

“both simple observation-“ He smiles a bit, before he flips a page of your document. “-and the ability to read.” He chuckles, causing you to become a bit shy now.

He's right. It’s all written down right there.

“You’re right in the middle of categories. That’s got to be confusing.” He gently tells you. “Go slow and steady. They offer a training day, take it. I’ll bring you and pick you up, and then we’ll decide whether or not you’ll sign it, okay?” He asks, and you nod, watching him drive home in silence.

The moment you both step out in front of his house, you do something unique-

You hug him, an actual, full on hug, arms wrapped around him as you rub your cheek on his chest to scent him. “thanks.” You mumble, and Yoongi awkwardly pats your head, before you run off at the sight of Jungkook after giving yoongi the documents, as the dog hybrid is seen opening the front door to greet you.

“Well, that’s new.” Jimin hums. “is she growing closer to everyone but me now?” He half-jokes- though yoongi can hear some genuine insecurities.

“I think it’s simply evening out, Jimin.” Yoongi tries to explain. “see it like that. Her attention is like a bottle of water. And before, it was all just filling one cup- yours.” He says as they’re both inside the kitchen now, him taking out two glasses and a bottle of water. “But now, there’s more cups to fill. And Jungkook’s simply gets a bit more from her.. well, because it’s a special cup, you could say.” He chuckles.

“I was just as spoiled, huh.” Jimin sighs, taking the glass of water from him, staring at it.

“Pretty much. But just like her, you’ll adapt.” He gently hums, hand on his. “it’s just a bit tough right now. And hey-“ he says, leaning over the table a bit to get closer, faces only inches apart.

“-You’ve got your own special cup too, no?”

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jungkook and you cuddle on the sofa, when he notices it again.

Sometimes, whenever you’re close like this, or he offers you just a tad bit too much physical affection, you seem to become almost drunk off of it. He’s noticed it in public too, whenever he hugs you fully and gives you a lot of kisses or even just a hand on your back running up and down a bit too often. Now, he knows that cat hybrids can get excited from a lot of physical contact- but you seem especially sensitive.

Almost as if you’re not the same category as himself.

He doesn’t really know how to ask you, considering that it might be a touchy subject- but he’s also endlessly curious. Though, right now, it’s not a very pressing issue, as you’re both in the privacy of the home he technically shares with Yoongi. These days, your things have found their way into this house as well though- from clothes in the wash, blankets on the couch, or stuffed toys in his bedroom that you wanted to show off but forgot to take back.

He can’t say he doesn’t like it.

You’re happily purring against him, rolling over onto your back, sweater rising up a bit to reveal your stomach- and he can’t help himself as he leans over you to kiss the skin, cold top of his nose making you giggle. “You’re so pretty.” He chuckles as well, moving up to kiss your lips now. You’re buzzing with emotions now, tail swiping from side to side, smacking hard against the couch now as he charges you up again.

It's then that you bite him, and he notices it.

As if he looks at you for the first time so intensely, he realizes a few things. From the more pronounced feline shape of your pupils, to the more defined sharpened teeth of yours. It doesn’t just seem like you’re a different category- you most likely are.

And yet you seem so aware? Something doesn’t make sense- but right now, it’s not the moment to ask about it.

Instead, he watches how you let go of his arm again, only some slight marks present on his skin, proving that you didn’t mean to hurt him at all- that it was just a reaction to get rid of all that excitement. It’s cute to him, most of all, so he doesn’t really care about it, happy sighing along with you as you both entangle your legs together before you cuddle up, getting ready to nap a little.

It's Jungkook’s favorite part of the day.

If he didn’t like his job so much, he’d stay home with you all day every day, and he’d never get bored of anything at all as long as you’d be there at his side. But to spoil you how you deserve it, he needs money- so it’s currently for the best to be away for seven hours and be able to offer you the best he can.

And you deserve only the best, in his opinion.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You feel ashamed when Yoongi picks you up from your first day.

You had to take breaks way more often than you thought you’d have to, it was honestly stressful despite the fact that you did nothing but stock shelves for four hours. You’re being paid- but you also feel almost defeated. You can’t see yourself doing this long term- you feel absolutely drained.

“I know I’m repeating myself, but it’s fine to admit if it’s not for you.” Yoongi tells you, who just starts at your lap. “no shame in it.”

“Why can’t I be normal?” You mumble.

“Because no one is.” Yoongi simply chuckles. “some might fit a common standard. But there is really no ‘normal’. Only average at best.” He explains.

“then I wanna be average.” You say.

“But that’s not you.” He shrugs. “and we all like you the way you are.” He offers. “Jimin mentioned to me that you don’t like Christmas. Are you upset because of that right now?” He wonders, genuinely curious.

“Christmas.. I don’t know.” You tell him. “It’s all.. a lot. Like, the lights, and the noise, and everyone’s always on edge, and nervous..” you confess.

“Its stressful.” Yoongi concludes, and you nod.

“And I also always feel bad.” You admit. “because.. Jiminie always gets me a lot of presents, but all I can give him is.. stupid stuff I made myself.” You say.

“Ah, now I get why you want to work so badly.” Yoongi clicks his tongue.

“I want to give you guys nice stuff too!” You cry out, finally letting it all out to someone. “I want to make you happy too, but I can’t do anything, and I can’t buy anything! I can only take, that’s it!” You huff angrily, ears pinned back when you notice Yoongi pulling up to a small grocery store. “Huh?” You wonder, distracted, when Yoongi runs a hand over your head- the touch able to calm you down quite a bit as you look at him.

“you and Jimin are very similar, you know?” He smiles. “You need to be more open. Don’t suffer all by yourself- getting help isn’t admitting defeat.” He says. “how about you help with chores at home, and I’ll give you some pocket money for it?”

“But then I’ll take money from you again.” You deny.

“Its not that different from working. You do something, I’ll pay you. Simple.” He shrugs.

“…OK.” You nod, determined, as he reaches over to wipe your cheeks, tears staining them that you didn’t even notice falling.

“there we go.” He grins, before driving back home with you.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

After Yoongi had informed the rest of them back home about your actual issues with the holiday season, Jungkook is now busy making sure the new Christmas lights aren’t blinking anymore but instead glowing steady, settings adjusted. He's almost done, when you rush into the house, almost tripping upstairs. “everything okay?” Jungkook calls, Jimin and Yoongi looking after you as well.

“Everything’s fine, promise!” You call down. “I just gotta wrap some stuff!!” You say, before something chatters, making Yoongi chuckle.

“So all those Years.. she didn’t hate Christmas at all?” jimin wonders.

“I mean, cats are pretty sensitive to stuff like that.” Jungkook mumbles with his head almost entirely stuck within the large Christmas tree. “and she’s a different category so- ouch!” He flinched when the pines prick him a little.

“I never thought that the difference in just seven percent is that big..” jimin shamefully sighs to himself.

“Well, you know now.” Yoongi reassures. “the past is the past. Let’s focus on the future.”

You’re downstairs a few hours later with a few colorful bandaids on your fingers from papercuts, watching the cookies in the oven bake with Jungkook hugging you. Some of them are shaped like cats, others like dogs. “can we eat them when they’re done?” You wonder.

“They’ll be hot though.” Jungkook chuckles. “you’ll burn your tongue.”

“I don’t wanna wait..” you huff.

“I’ll distract you then.” Jungkook suggests. “we can go put the presents under the tree while they cool down.” He says, letting go of you to take them out, careful not to have you get hurt.

“Okay.” You nod, fetching all the little things you wrapped admittedly a bit chaotically. Still, everyone’s proud- it’s not an easy task for you, and it’s clear that you had to take breaks multiple times in between wrapping to get your focus back on track. “mine look all crumpled up..” you pout, sitting on the floor in front of all the presents.

“You got drastically better though after the first two.” Yoongi comments. “that one there looks pretty neat.” He points to a small one, and you purr at that, before you turn. “You want some?” He offers the peeled tangerine, which you take.

“She’s warmed up to him.” Jimin notices from the sidelines, and Jungkook nods, tail wagging.

“Isn’t it great?” He says, though his tail slows when he notices Jimin’s rather somber look. “Why are you so against us loving her.?” He asks, and Jimin looks towards the dog hybrid in surprise.

“What?” He asks, caught off guard.

“I don’t know. But it feels like you’re.. upset that she’s befriending Yoongi. Or that she loves me now.” He explains.

“I’m not upset.” The older human denies. “I’m just.. scared.”

“Of what?” Jungkook calls, bewildered. “aren’t we a family now?”

A family.

Jimin hasn’t really thought of it that way- but Jungkook’s right. Yoongi and the dog hybrid aren’t taking you away, really- they’re more like an extension now, added on instead of pushed into the existing bond you two once had. The only one who pulled away had been himself.

“we all love her. In different ways.” Jungkook smiles. “the only one who’s making it weird is you.” He jokes, before he joins in, tugging on your tail playfully to get you to turn and tackle him, Yoongi sighing as he has to make sure you both don’t tumble right into the tree.

And that night, a switch had been flipped.

Jimin finally jumps over his own shadow again, helping you unwrap your presents, while also almost brought to tears when he receives yours. It’s all warm, and happy, and almost like you’re both back to normal again- but one look around him offers him a true picture of what it is now.

You both have always considered each other family-

You’re just a few more people now.

[currentfandomkick]

Re-Making Ghost King function

Ghost King is a lot of OP!Danny and skipping other avenues to explore how that could work, so i have IdeasTM to add weight to the role and make it Worse For Ghost King or add costs to acting outside of the role.

Adding possible story ideas to each example i give, and up for grabs just tag me if you do anything :D

Ghost king is a curse and death sentence.

It drains your core and keeps you from your obsession. It is the realm’s denizens deciding ‘fuck this guy in particular’. The draining of the king’s core causes them to go insane (known problem) and the energy goes to sustaining a number of youngers and newly forming ghosts in the Ghost Nurseries.

Yes, Danny’s main area of the Ghost Zone is included in Nursery where ghosts of similar species and backgrounds intermingle with parents of neverborns, form firghts and later move deeper into realms, unless their obsession includes the living. Then they tend to gravitate to portal rich areas, and areas that spawn in their preferred time and regions of living world.

This means Danny? Is possibly going to deal with going insane if he’s crowned, especially as Pariah is around still. Realms are convening on if Danny’s a bigger threat than Pariah after defeating him. Go nuts on court and legal arguments between various ghosts. JLD may be called in by [character] to find a way to save Danny from this BS, while Danny is staging another prison break and probably forming another army on his side that he does not lead and like him enough to keep around but do not agree with him in terms of leadership. So his new friends are kidnapping him for his own good, while a trial is held over if a halfa can be given the cursed role of ghost king, and if Danny should be cursed to future madness

Go nuts on political drama, jail break fun and Danny debating if this makes him a McGuffin, and why his life is Like This

Team ups everywhere

Ghost king is the loosely diplomat between the Infinite Realms. And other realms sometimes.

Pariah decided war was the best way to get everyone to shut up and unite and maybe not make all their issues his problem for five minutes.

Danny is now expected to handle this as physically beating opponents to establish credentials is vital

Danny is shit at remembering his powers. Or how to switch between them outside his main ones…

Cue danny finding mentors to help and runs into hero of your choice for help (yes this means Batman isn’t the best to handle this, if he’s around have him shuffle Danny to another team or frequent meetings with a lot of heroes)

Feel free to unleash him onto Hero Team of Choice and make him their problem as ‘oh its me or the guy who’s main response is world domination! My mirror likes traveling and a few of my friends are activists. I dont want Conqueror McGee in charge of this stuff. I’m just here as the muscle/backup, and engineer. And space stuff. I am not the negotiator, i am the negotiator’s bodyguard.’

Danny is here to play Guard the Diplomat and act like he is not, in fact, the diplomat Legally.

Heroes? Doing their best to train danny up, likely bonding with him and his crew (tagalongs of your choice. But please let Val be there too, and calling Danny out on ‘crap tactics’ in a teasing manner.)

Ghost King is Extremely Limited in living world regardless of previous powers

Ghost Kings only have their full powers in the realms of the dead, and said powers vary by monarch and region they are present in

Yes this helps explain Danny’s weekly new powers if we include Clocky as a previous king who saw Dan become king and thought early intervention on powers might prevent Dan. Did not work as intended.

In the living realm danny acts more as a medium and can answer questions about the dead, but cannot use his powers anywhere but Amity as Amity is a Veil City (city that exists in both the IR and Living Realm) but is anchored more on living side… outside of the city wandering about as it pleases

Danny is mostly human in human word besides having an encyclopedic knowledge about the dead, burial sites, which death realm one resides in or returned from, ect.,

In the infinite Realms he is eldritch though. As a treat.

Danny is not able to be summoned unless he’s in the infinite realms. Pariah is the backup summon though. And he’s bitchy about it.

High crack, comedy and angst potential

Summons can be anyone, and danny is Done with Cultists and makes a point to tell them to fuck off with the power crap. He will take questions about the dead, and only if he gets a burger shake.

As King Phantom he’s basically a Glorified Realms Secretary in his opinion. He makes Pariah the King when he wants to be bitchy to people, and vice versa.

No rule against Pariah and Danny in a weird joint custody of the title as ‘i beat you, i won’ vs ‘you only meet the credentials half the time. We work in shifts’

Ghost King with Serious Limitations the way most monarchs have.

King Phantom cannot help you with… finding your missing friend. Danny Fenton can.

Fenton gets no access to his powers when going against what Phantom is allowed to do. Including his healing factor!

Much whump and angst potential

So many scenarios to put this in, especially if you have another person pissed at danny for not doing more with his own powers and get reality checked with danny seriously injured for Not Following the Ghost King Restrictions

Fenton making tech to help where he cant is highly applicable

I say engineer Danny working with Hero Of Choice as Gadget Guy and finding out powers afterwards and former hero status could be fun too!

And there’s all i got ATM, if anyone has other ideas to make Ghost King less OP or have other angles, let me know so we can circulate other ways this can work.

Tag whoever may be interested or have other ideas to rework the ghost king concept

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

To a Tea 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc. 

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU 

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk. 

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you. 

Summary:  A demanding customer grows increasingly needy.

Character:  Raymond Smith

The title is a pun, don’t @ me.

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved. 

You don’t often miss work, but that week, a burst pipe throws everything off. A morning spent waiting on your landlord, then the next few hours for a plumber, has things a bit off kilter. Even the next day, you’re not quite back on point. 

The patched wall next to fridge reminds you of the disaster and a dingy smell persists. You hope it doesn’t cling to you as you set off for your shift that day. If you can, you want to pick up some hours from others if their up for grabs. Harry doesn’t like Saturday’s, maybe he’ll hand over some. 

You try to leave your problems behind as you catch a bus down to the city centre. You get to the tea shop five minutes before the hour. Jenna’s wrapping up the opening tasks as you go to leave your things in the back. You tie on your apron and unlock the front door for the first customers of the day. 

At first, it’s a trickle. Never very much at all. The early risers who often come alone or if they aren’t, they don’t speak much or very loudly. The smell of fresh baking and the slow rising sun add to the lazy din. 

“Thought the special was strawberry today,” you comment as you transfer macarons from a cooled tray to the display. 

“Eh, it was but we didn’t have enough jam,” she shrugs. “Changed the sign, is all.” 

“Ah, thought my mind was lagging again. Everything’s been off since yesterday.” 

“Eh, how’s the apartment, anyhow? Marilyn said it was something about a leak?” 

“Burst pipe,” you explain, “they took out the wall above the sink, buncha clanging all day. When I tell you this place is like heaven.” 

She chuckles, “can be.” 

“There’s a formal tea booked in the Marigold Room at noon,” she intones, “forgot to mention that. With Mother’s day coming up, suppose we’ll get more bookings.” 

“Suppose,” you go to check the schedule hanging on the wall. “Party of twelve, wow.” 

“I’ll man the till. Honest, since those ladies at New Years, I’ve hated doing them.” 

“No problem, Harry should be here, shouldn’t he?” 

“Well, he’s... called in.” 

“Again?” You whine as you face her. 

“Are you really surprised?” She scoffs. 

“No one else to cover? Not even Louisa?” 

“Nah, she’s on holiday still.” 

You huff, “fine. Not much of a choose then, is it?” 

🫖

The tea room is as close to raucous as you’ve ever heard it. You have your back to the rest of the shop as you balance the stacked serving trays with an array of sponge cake, fruit, and biscuits. It’s the typical assortment for a tea party booking. 

You’ve already served the tea and the sandwiches, and dessert is the last bit, along with any further pots needed to be steeped throughout. With a partner, it isn’t hard to keep up, but alone, it’s rather overwhelming. Jenna does her best to assist but there aren’t many lulls around lunch time. 

Beyond that, the tourists are chatty. You could hardly get away to fetch each course as they wanted to chat about the culture and your suggestions of what they should do next. It’s nice that they’re friendly but still stressful. 

You put the trays on the cart and roll it around the counter. As you do, you nearly skid to a halt. In the rush, you hadn’t noticed him. Your eyes meet Raymond’s as he watches you. Intent, intense. You give an apologetic smile and nod in acknowledgement. Jenna wanted to deal with the main room, she’ll have to wipe down his table and do her best. 

You roll behind the wall and into the Marigold room. You present the tray and grab it by the ring at the top, lifting it onto the centre of the table. You roll around to gather the empty plates and cups, taking two pots for refill. 

You come back out and see Raymond standing, just as he was. He sees you too. Watching, hands folded, knuckles white, jaw set. He’s usually patient but you don’t know how long he’s been waiting. 

You roll behind the counter and sigh, clearing off the cart as Jenna steams a tea latte. 

“Can you wipe Raymond’s table?” You ask. 

“Who?” She furrows her brow. 

You glance over your shoulder toward the man in question and she follows. She rolls her eyes, “I tried, I wiped the the table. He didn’t sit.” 

“Hm, well... did you wash your hands first?” 

“Christ Almighty, what is he a child?” 

“Jen, he’s just... you know, my mom’s the same. He can’t help it.” 

“You can deal with him. I won’t be arsed,” she sniffs, “he was rude and you know I don’t got time for those ones.” 

“Jenna, I’m kinda up to my eyes,” you dump the used bags from a pot. “I know he can be prickly but just wash your hands and redo the table.” 

“Ugh, fine,” she sneers, “but you owe me.” 

“Let’s call it even,” you retort as you pour boiling water into the pots mouth. 

She shakes her head and huffs, “guess it is.” 

🫖

It’s nearly three in the afternoon. It’s quiet. Harry’s on his phone instead of doing the cups and your wiping the empty tables to keep yourself moving. The door opens and you glance over to make sure Harry’s alert. He’s not. 

Doesn’t matter. It’s him. Raymond. You stand and clutch the cloth tight in your hand as you greet him. 

“Be right with you, Raymond,” you assure him. 

He barely looks at you as he goes to wait next to his table. You go behind the counter and mutter under your breath in Harry’s direction, “...dirty cups.” You wash your hands and make sure to clink some of the empty porcelain in an effort to draw your coworker’s attention. He’s still entranced by his phone. 

You take the disinfectant wipes and go back out. You approach Raymond as he checks his watch. 

“How are you today?” You ask. 

He grumbles and shrugs, “fine.” 

“English Breakfast, black,” you declares as you finish wiping up, “usual.” 

“So you remember,” he challenges as he steps close, closer than ever, before sidling around to sit. 

“Of course, I always do,” you smile. 

“And last time?” 

“Last time...” 

“Twice.” 

You’re confused. What is he talking about? 

“I came on Tuesday and you weren’t here. Then on Thursday, you didn’t even say hello.” 

“Oh, well, I’m sorry, Raymond, it was a busy day. Tuesday, I had a personal emergency so I didn’t even know you’d been in--” 

“I’ll have my tea now,” he interjects tersely. 

“Right, tea,” you confirm and spin around. 

“Crooked strings,” he remarks dully, “again.” 

[the-fruitpunch-clown]

KINKTOBER 2024:

DAY II: car sex featuring Mike Schmidt

synopsis: mike can make you come on his face in less than five minutes, right? or mike makes you late bc he’s munch

tags: oral sex fem! receiving, mike being a needy whore basically lmao

kinktober 2024 masterlist | main masterlist

“mike, baby, you know i have somewhere to be. i don’t have time for this…” your voice trails off. mike continues to kiss along your neck, even after you’ve told him multiple times you’ll both be late for work if this goes any further. 

“c’mon babe, just five minutes, please? i’ll be quick, promise,” his light kisses continue up to your ear, whispering the words against you as his hands play with your hair. you sigh, internally reprimanding yourself for giving in so easily. “fine, but just five minutes, nothing longer. alright?” 

mike smiles at you and presses a quick kiss to your temple before eagerly fumbling over the center console to settle between your legs. unsurprisingly, there’s already enough room from your previous intimate moments shared in his car. he makes quick work with shoving your skirt up and settles his hands on your spread legs, “open up for me baby, that’s it, fuck…” 

mike leans in and leaves a chaste kiss against your panties, making you squirm against him. in return, he smacks your thigh, “quit movin’, you said you wanted this to be quick right? well sit there and be still for me.” 

right before you’re about to chide him, he shoves your panties aside and licks a long stripe up your center, flicking your clit with his tongue. he continues his assault by shoving his whole face into you, his tongue dipping lightly into your hole, and you can’t help but grind your clit against his nose. he moans into you, the vibrations going straight through you and adding to the pleasure he’s bringing you. 

mike continues to messily make out with your cunt while you moan and mewl above him. “mikey, oh fuck- please.. i need it,” you grip his hair mercilessly, pulling him deeper into you. you think you hear him mutter a muffled, “i know i know, baby, use me, fuck my face, c’mon, give me it..” but you can’t tell anyways with the ringing in your ears. 

you continuously rock your hips against his mouth, quickly chasing your orgasm. “mikey, baby.. fuck, ‘m right there, please..” you whine out. the grip you have on his hair borders on painful, but it only ceases to turn him on more. mike groans out against your cunt, “come on my face baby, do it for me, c’mon,” he fucks his tongue into you, rubbing his nose against your clit. his quick ministrations push you over edge, has you coming on his face as you moan out his name and a string of curses. 

as you slowly come down from your high, mike works you through it, lazily lapping at your release while looking up at your blissed out face. soon, his lazy strokes start to build up to overstimulation and you push against his shoulders and shove his head away, “too much, it’s too much mikey.” 

he reluctantly pulls away from you, resting his head on your head, “alright, you good?” 

you smile down at him, admiring how equally blissed he seems, “mhm.” you check the time on the clock, which reads 1:08 P.M., eight minutes past when your break ends, and ten past the end of your “five minutes”. 

“micheal!” you sit up abruptly, forcing him to lift his head. “what?” 

“you made me late, i told you five minutes!” you scold him, but you can hardly keep up the act with the adoring look he gives you. “i’m sorry, baby, i can make it up to you-“ 

“later. if i’m already gonna be late, might as well make the most of it. get in the back seat, it’s my turn to have fun.” 

notes: so the plan was to post either logantober or kinktober early in the morning (around 12am eastern, as i am on the east coast lmao) and then the other later in the day but i forgot to post this morning. oops. but logantober will be out later today!!

also no logantober for tmr, but will be back on the 4th!! kinktober will continue ofc!

all banners, dividers, and graphics are from @/saradika-graphics !!

[hyzelle]

ch. 1 — even if it’s not with me | l.hs

♡ pairing: heeseung x make-up artist!fem!reader

♡ genre/tags: fluff, crack, pet names, slow burn, reader & all members are in their early to mid 20s

♡ warnings: profanities

♡ featuring: ot7 enha

est. 19/03/2025 — chapter 1 wc ꒰ 1.5k ꒱

[+♡] a/n — as i've mentioned on the main post for EIINWM — i decided to rewrite the whole thing because i didn't like how it was written. and so, the previous posts have been removed. here's the new & improved version!! hope u’ll still love reading it as much as i love writing it. read the synopsis & keep up with updates here, ♡ EIINWM ♡. chapters are proofread to the best of my ability, so there might still be some mistakes. feedbacks are always welcomed, but any & all hates or disrespect will not be tolerated and you will be blocked. on that note, i hope u'll enjoy & love EIINWM ♡ ! give it some love, like & reblog. ♡

Y/N wasn't antisocial—she was selectively social.

She liked people just fine. She just liked them better in small doses.

Maybe it was the unnecessary drama, the passive-aggressive group chats, or the inevitable falling-outs over something stupid, but she'd been through enough to know that friendships? Exhausting. So, at some point, she'd just... stopped trying.

She had Jake, she had her work, and that was enough.

Or so she thought—because according to Jake, she had no life.

"Y/N, I love you, but you have no life," Jake announced, sprawled across her couch as he scrolled through his phone.

Y/N, lying on the floor because she was too tired to move, groaned. "I have a great life, actually. I work, I eat, I sleep. It's called balance."

"It's called boring," Jake deadpanned, throwing a pillow at her face. "Which is why I'm forcing you to meet my friends tonight."

Y/N peeked out from under the pillow. "Absolutely not."

Jake sat up, leveling her with a look. "You can't just spend your twenties working and rotting in bed, Y/N. You need friends. Real people."

"I have friends."

"Friend. A friend," Jake shot back. "I'm not counted."

Y/N groaned again. He wasn't going to let this go. He never let anything go.

"I'm just saying," Jake continued, flopping onto his stomach, "maybe you should meet people who actually make life fun. People who won't bring you bullshit or backstabbing drama. People who, I don't know, actually like you."

Y/N sighed, knowing she was this close to caving. "And you're sure these friends of yours aren't idiots?"

"Oh, they're absolute idiots," Jake said, grinning. "But they're your kind of idiots. You'll love them. Give it five minutes."

She exhaled heavily. "You're really not going to let me stay home, are you?"

Jake beamed. "Not a fucking chance."

Y/N sighed, pressing her palms against her face before grumbling, "Fine."

Jake whooped, jumping up from the couch. "I promise you won't regret it."

Y/N wasn't so sure about that.

Ikeu: tmr. 8pm. don't be late

Y/N: where am i going exactly?

Ikeu: avenue cafe, big booth in the back

Y/N: ok but like what if i don't show up

Ikeu: i will literally drag u here

Y/N: bold of u to assume i'd answer the door

Ikeu: bold of YOU to assume i wouldn't break in

Y/N: fair point

Ikeu: i know. wear something cute.

Y/N: ??????

Ikeu: nvm u always look cute ;)

Y/N: shut up

The Avenue Café was warm, dimly lit, and humming with the low buzz of conversation.

Y/N spotted Jake immediately—sprawled in the back booth, waving her down.

Then, as if sensing her hesitation, her phone buzzed.

Ikeu: i see u. don't even THINK about it.

Y/N exhaled sharply through her nose, rolling her eyes as she made her way over.

Jake grinned. "And there she is."

All six heads turned toward her. Y/N resisted the urge to kill Jake on sight.

"Be cool," Jake muttered under his breath, though it was mostly directed at his friends.

Y/N slid into the booth, offering a polite smile. "Hey."

She expected an awkward, stiff round of introductions.

Instead, Sunoo, the one with the sharpest outfit and perfectly styled hair, squinted at her like he was solving a complex equation. "Wait. How are you this pretty and friends with Jake?"

Y/N smirked, amused by him already. "A moment of weakness, clearly."

Sunghoon, who was annoyingly handsome in that effortlessly cool, probably too good at everything way, choked on his drink. "Nice, I like her already."

Jake groaned. "Can we introduce ourselves before you guys scare her off?"

The first to speak was Jay, who looked exactly like the kind of man who had his life together—sharp jawline, expensive watch, the type to argue about dividends over dinner. He smirked at her before introducing himself, "Jay. Finance."

Of course.

Then came Sunghoon, sharp-jawed and deadpan smooth. "Sunghoon. Skating coach. The best-looking one here."

"Debatable," Sunoo cut in smoothly. "Anyway—Sunoo. Fashion stylist. "

"Jungwon," the next one said, voice steady, presence calm, like he was the designated driver in this friend group. His dimple deepened as he smiled. "Dancer and choreographer."

Then came the youngest-looking one, who had troublemaker energy written all over him.

"Niki. Model. I work with my face."

Y/N huffed out a laugh. "That's gotta be exhausting."

"It is," Niki sighed dramatically.

And then, "Heeseung."

Her gaze flickered to the last one, seated at the far end of the booth.

Damn.

Tall. Sharp features. Stupidly good-looking.

But it wasn't just that.

It was the way he carried himself—quiet but not timid, observant but unreadable. He wasn't trying to grab attention, yet he held it effortlessly.

"Musician," he added, voice smooth but lowkey disinterested, like he wasn't used to introducing himself to people who didn't already know him.

Y/N tilted her head slightly. "Singer? Instrumentalist?"

Heeseung's lips barely curved. "Bit of everything."

Jay scoffed. "He's being modest. He's annoyingly good at all of it."

Heeseung just smirked, like he knew it was true but didn't feel the need to confirm it.

Something about him intrigued her.

Heeseung wasn't expecting this.

Jake had been talking about her for weeks, but Heeseung had tuned most of it out—figuring she was just another one of Jake's many social connections.

But Y/N? She was different.

She wasn't loud like Jake, but she wasn't reserved either. She had this effortless confidence, the kind that didn't try too hard but still left an impression.

And she was beautiful.

Not just in the obvious way—though, yeah, that too—but in the way she carried herself. The way she didn't hesitate to throw Jake's bullshit back at him.

Heeseung, who usually kept his thoughts to himself, found himself watching her more than he should.

And the problem was, every time she glanced his way, his first instinct was to look away.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, laughter filling the cozy café as the group bounced between topics.

At one point, Sunghoon leaned back, stirring his drink as he turned to Y/N. "So, Y/N, what do you do?"

Y/N raised a brow. "What, Jake didn't tell you?"

Jay smirked. "He did. Just wanted to hear it from you."

The way he said it—smooth, teasing, with just the right amount of curiosity—made it obvious he was flirting.

Y/N played along. "Well, I'm a makeup artist."

Heeseung, who had been mostly quiet, finally spoke. "So, do you mostly do editorial work, or—?"

Y/N turned her head toward him, a little surprised.

He had been listening?

She expected him to be the type who half-tuned out of conversations that didn't interest him—but his gaze was focused now, waiting for her answer.

"I do a bit of everything," she admitted. "Editorials, weddings, some celebrity gigs."

Heeseung nodded, clearly intrigued. "That's impressive."

Y/N raised a brow. "Coming from someone who, apparently, can write, produce, and perform—I'd say you're more impressive."

A smirk tugged at the corner of Heeseung's lips.

"She's got a point," Jay said.

Sunoo sighed dramatically. "And yet, he refuses to use that talent to get us into exclusive events."

"Because that's not how it works," Heeseung replied smoothly, taking a sip of his drink.

Sunghoon scoffed. "Says who?"

"Basic human decency?" Heeseung offered dryly.

Jungwon leaned back, amused. "Imagine having that much talent and still acting humble."

Jake nudged Y/N. "He pretends he doesn't care, but deep down, he loves it when people hype him up."

Heeseung rolled his eyes, but he didn't deny it.

Y/N, watching him, found herself curious.

The way he spoke—calm, measured, like he was always thinking before he talked—was completely different from Jake's carefree chaos. And yet, it wasn't like he was shy.

He observed more than he spoke. But when he did talk, his words carried weight.

Something about that made him... intriguing.

And maybe, a little attractive.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, the group's energy addictive in the way that made Y/N forget she'd only met them an hour ago. They were sharp, fast-paced, and unfiltered, the kind of people who made everything feel like an inside joke you wanted to be part of.

"Oh yeah—we still on for the beach next weekend?" Jay suddenly asked.

Sunghoon nodded. "Yeah. We were supposed to go last week, but Niki—"

"I was sick." Niki interrupted immediately.

Sunghoon gave him a look. "Yeah. You got food poisoning because you thought it'd be a good idea to eat a gas station sushi burrito at two in the morning."

Niki scoffed. "Okay, first of all? I was hungry. Second of all, it was half off."

Jay rolled his eyes. "Yeah okay, anyway—beach day, next weekend? Thought it'd be good to just relax, get some drinks, maybe play a game or two."

Jake, as if just remembering, turned to Y/N. "Wait. You should come."

Y/N blinked. "Me?"

"Oh yeah," Sunoo agreed immediately. "You should come."

She raised an eyebrow. "And why exactly would I do that?"

"Consider it your initiation," Jungwon replied, smirking.

Y/N took a slow sip of her drink. "And what exactly am I being initiated into?"

"The best decision of your life," Niki grinned.

Jake leaned back, grinning. "I mean... you did say you needed to have more of a life."

Y/N shot him a pointed look. "I never said that."

Jake smirked. "I implied it for you."

She exhaled, considering it. "... What's in it for me?"

Jay, amused, answered first. "A good time."

Niki smirked. "The privilege of seeing us shirtless."

Y/N scoffed. "Tempting."

And then, before anyone else could speak, Heeseung chimed in.

"You should come." His voice was low, even, like he wasn't trying to convince her—just stating a fact.

Y/N turned her head, catching his gaze. He didn't look away this time.

"... Fine," she said, feigning reluctance. "I'll come."

Sunoo cheered. "That's the spirit."

A second later, her phone buzzed with a notification.

Ikeu added you to OnlyFriends

She stared at the screen for a second before letting out a short laugh. Shaking her head, she smiled as she typed,

Y/N: hi losers

This might actually be fun.

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