#like I want to get closer to it. but not in the way I’m supposed to

[brucedefender4eva]

There was a tumblr post on here and I can’t remember who it was from but I do remember the general gist.

It was basically about Bruce going “Brucie mode” and therefore making it impossible for people to be or stay mad at him. Just flash those beautiful blue eyes at someone and they’re ready to do his bidding

——

Jason: You were monitoring me?! What the fuck Bruce! I told you-

Bruce: *zoning out and not in the mood to be yelled at*

Jason: -and… what are you doing? Hey! Don’t you dare go-

Bruce: *already in Brucie mode* Why are you yelling at me Jay? Did I do something wrong?

Jason: *unable to stay angry* Fuck you Dad

——

Dick: Stop that

Bruce: *not a single thought behind his eyes, smiling brightly* Stop what chum?

Dick: Fuck you!

Bruce: *smile faltering, eyes getting glassy as tears start to build up* W-what? What did I do Dickie? Why are you mad at me? *voice wobbling*

Dick: Fuckkkk *hugs Bruce, mentally cursing himself out* Nothing Dad, nothing at all

——

Tim: B, you need to sign this stack of papers for… the uh… investors…

Bruce: *holding up a steaming cup of Tim’s favorite coffee, smiling in that boyish way everyone loves* Timmy you work so hard! I made this for you *eyes sparkling earnestly*

Tim: *looking between the coffee and the paperwork Bruce has been putting off for the past week* I- Bruce you gotta sign these. The board is on my ass and you aren’t helping

Bruce: *frowning and slowly lowering the cup* Oh… sorry I thought we could hang out today…

Tim: *already giving in* Fuck it, let’s go watch a movie Dad

——

Alfred: Master Bruce

Bruce: *completely ignoring him and posting on Twitter or Instagram while lying on a cot in the Batcave*

Alfred: Master Bruce please. It is imperative that we clean your scrapes and bruises before you get an infection

Bruce: *whining and looking up at Alfred with puppy dog eyes* Aflie, can’t it wait? Can’t I have a sandwich first? Pretty please?

Alfred: *flashbacks to baby Bruce* I… I suppose. What would you like on your sandwich my boy.

——

Damian: …

Bruce: …

Damian: Why do you do this Baba?

Bruce: *shrugs* Why not? Sooner or later you’ll understand the great power I have over people.

Damian: I see… I shall study this method of manipulation more.

——

Bonus

Clark: M-mister Wayne this is really inappropriate *blushing bright red and trying to adjust his glasses*

Bruce: *currently seated on Clark’s lap, arms wrapped around his neck, titling his head like a lost puppy* Why do ya mean reporter man? I thought that this was supposed to be a very… intimate interview. Do you want me to move?

Clark: No! Ehem… n-no mister Wayne. I’m simply… getting used to it *Clark’s hand flexes from where it’s gripping Bruce’s surprisingly small waist*

Bruce: *playing with the baby hairs on Clark’s neck, a seductive smile on his face as he drops his voice and leans in closer* Yeah? That’s good. I think I really like doing intimate interviews with you. But, the study isn’t the best place to have it. Why don’t we… go up to my bedroom for more privacy?

Clark: *throws Bruce over his shoulders and bounds up the stairs, Bruce is laughing loudly*

[frostimochi]

second best

(logan howlett x reader)

summary: You and Logan are both in love with people completely out of reach. After a seemingly innocent joke made for you and him to get together, the two of you brush it off. But as days pass, the idea seems less ridiculous. Then one night, Logan approaches you, finally agreeing to the idea--and what starts as a fake relationship soon takes an unexpected turn.

word count: 17.6k chapter count: 10/10 (finished!) author’s note: ok this is my very first time posting any media i've made on tumblr...i can't guarantee i'll do it again, but i will def be writing more on my ao3 account if you wish to see more! this is also a mix of the x-men films and x-men ‘97 for context. it's a bit rushed but i hope you all enjoy! :)

chapter 1 - what we carry

The night was tense. Clouds of smoke, smoldering debris choked the air, and the distant sound of sirens echoed through the city. It was another X-Men mission coming to an end. You crouched low behind the crumbling remnants of an abandoned building, your heart hammering in your chest as you peeked around the corner. Flames flickered in the distance, casting shadows across the deserted street.

But you weren’t alone; Logan crouched beside you, eyes sharp and focused, his senses tuned into the slightest movement in the darkness. He grunted softly, the usual gruff in his voice present, even when he whispered. "They’re circling around. We need to move."

You nodded, adrenaline still coursing through your veins after the battle that had nearly gone sideways. The mission had been simple enough on paper, but nothing ever went as planned in the field. What was supposed to be a routine infiltration turned into an all-out firefight when the enemy showed up in greater numbers than anticipated.

"Stick close," Logan added, his eyes flicking to yours for just a moment, a brief concern crossing his usually impassive face. "You good, bub?"

"Yeah, I’m fine," you lied, already feeling the dull ache in your side from where you’d taken a glancing blow. You could push through it, just like you always did. This wasn’t your first mission, and it certainly wouldn’t be your last. But the fatigue was beginning to weigh on you, not just from the fight, but from everything else—specifically, your own personal endeavors from a few days back.

You and Remy have gotten awfully close. Closer than you probably should have allowed. But he was still wrapped up with someone else, and that reality gnawed at you. The thought lingered as you and Logan crept forward. It wasn’t just the mission weighing on you tonight.

As the two of you moved through the shadows, working your way toward the extraction point, your thoughts only continued stranding to Remy. The way he’d effortlessly deflected attacks earlier, how his movements were always so fluid and confident. You couldn’t help but admire him, desire him. A familiar pang hit your chest, knowing the truth deep down; he only had eyes for Marie.

Just like Logan only seemed to have eyes for Jean.

The thought made you glance at Logan, who was scanning the area ahead. Even now, you knew he was thinking about her, about Jean. The woman who could never be his, no matter how much he wanted her. In the end, you were both stuck in this endless cycle of wanting someone who was just out of reach.

The extraction point wasn’t far, but just as you neared it, a gunshot cracked through the air. You flinched, instinctively ducking as Logan pushed you back against the wall, his body shielding yours.

"Stay down," he growled, his claws extending with a sharp snikt. He didn’t hesitate, charging toward the threat before you could react. The sound of a struggle echoed through the alleyway as you pressed a hand to your side, wincing.

By the time you caught up, Logan had already taken care of the attacker, standing over him with a dark look in his eyes. His claws retracted as he wiped the blood off his knuckles with a grimace.

"Let’s get the hell out of here," he muttered, his voice low. 

You didn’t argue, following him in silence as you both slipped into the shadows, heading for the jet. You were the last few to escape, as the night felt colder, with the exhaustion hitting you full force as the adrenaline began to fade.

. . .

Later, as the two of you sat in the dimly lit jet, silence stretched between you and Logan. The mission was over, but the weight of everything else from your physical pain, to personal life still stuck at the back of your mind. You leaned back in your seat, staring out the window as the city disappeared beneath the clouds.

"You alright, Y/N?" Logan’s voice broke the silence, his gaze still on you, seeing you still holding onto your side.

"Yeah," you replied, though the aching pain had gotten worse, and your thoughts still scattered. But you knew he wasn’t asking about the mission.

"Doesn’t seem like it," he remarked, a knowing edge to his tone. “You’re awfully quiet.”

You looked over at him, unsure if you wanted to brush it off or actually talk about what was on your mind. 

"I don’t know, Logan," you admitted quietly. "Everything just feels... off lately.”

His eyebrows furrowed in questioning, as you continued. You didn’t feel any reason in hiding it anymore, since there wasn't anything left you could do at this point. The fatigue didn’t help either. Processing a single thought was a different pain on its own.

“Just wishin’ Remy looked at me the same way as Rogue.” you replied in a soft-spoken whisper. 

He didn’t respond right away, just leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment.

"You’re not the only one," Logan finally said, his voice low and rough. "Sometimes it feels like I’m just also going through the motions, you know?”

He paused.

 “Jean... she’s never gonna look at me the way I want her to. Not while she’s with Scott."

"You ever get tired of it?" you asked suddenly, the words spilling out before you could stop them. Logan looked over at you, one eyebrow raised.

“Of what?”

“Wanting someone you know you’ll never have?”

Logan let out a low, almost bitter laugh, leaning back in his seat. "More than you know. But it’s not exactly something I can just turn off, you know? Not in my nature."

"Yeah, well, easier said than done," you muttered, trying to shrug it off. "I have bad luck with these things.”

Logan didn’t respond right away, just watched you with that quiet intensity of his, noticing what others overlooked. You could feel his eyes on you, the weight of his presence grounding you, in a way that Remy’s never had.

"Luck’s overrated," Logan said finally, his voice low and steady. "We make our own way without it."

Another beat of silence passed, the air thick with everything left unsaid. But something about the quiet was comfortable now. You weren’t alone in your hurt anymore, and neither was he.

"We’re a real messed up bunch, huh?" you said, forcing a small laugh, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Logan smirked, but there was no humor in it. "Yeah. A real bunch of idiots.”

You silently nodded in agreement, the heaviness in your chest finally settling. You both sat there, the weight of your unspoken heartaches still lingering in the room. It was strange how easy it was to talk to Logan about it, but you knew he understood it quite well. To want someone so badly, yet know you could never have them.

Maybe that's why, despite the exhaustion, despite the pain and confusion, you could finally let yourself close your eyes, knowing that even though you couldn’t have everything you wanted, at least you had this moment. This understanding. And maybe that was something worth holding onto. For now. 

chapter 2 - what we seek

Back at the mansion, things had settled back into a familiar routine. The mission was behind you, but it didn’t stop the heartache for Gambit slipping back in. The lingering feeling always felt like a stab in the chest, a constant reminder of what you couldn’t have.

The truth is, it was supposed to happen. You and Remy had planned it out several nights ago: a quiet, simple evening away from the team, just the two of you. There had been moments; rare, unguarded looks from him that had felt like a promise, a hint of something more. You’d felt it, that same, exhilarating thrill that always seemed just within reach, and for once, you’d let yourself believe in the possibility of something more. But in the end, the odds never seemed to work out in your favor. He stood you up, and was later found reconnecting, rekindling his love with another woman from his past.

Rogue. Marie. 

You had nothing against her—hell, you admired her deeply, and spoke with her several times outside of missions and training. You were sure she didn’t know about what had been happening between you and Remy. You couldn’t deny they were both drawn together in a way that was undeniable, magnetic. Whatever was between you and him had been put aside. You knew it would never compare.

In the end, it was easier to keep to yourself, easier to pretend nothing had changed, but the pain of wanting something just out of reach, kept you from finding any real peace. And in those moments, you found yourself drifting, walking the halls of the X-Mansion at odd hours, going places where you knew no one else would be.

One of those nights, you stumbled to grab any kind of sustenance. The kitchen was quiet, as you poured yourself a late-night drink. A few footsteps from behind broke the chaos of thoughts bursting in your mind, and you turned to see Morph entering with their usual grin. They slid onto a stool, giving you a once-over with exaggerated curiosity.

“So... heard you and Wolverine had a heart-to-heart last night,” they said, a smirk forming.

You rolled your eyes, setting the bottle down, visually annoyed. “Does anyone around here not know everyone else’s business?”

Morph shrugged, leaning back in their seat. “Hey, it's not my fault the walls are thin.”

You let out a sigh, swirling your drink absentmindedly. "And what does everyone think they know, exactly?"

Morph grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself. "Not much... just that two lonely souls found a little solace in each other’s company after a rough mission." They paused, quivering an eyebrow. "Did I miss anything?"

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. "Sometimes, Morph, you’re worse than the tabloids."

"All I'm saying," they continued, "is that sometimes we get so caught up in what we can’t have, that we miss what’s right there."

Raising an eyebrow, you took a sip of your drink. It burned through your throat as you slammed it back down on the table. You took a heavy breath before responding. “Oh? Enlighten me.”

“You and Logan should get together. Problem solved.” Morph crossed their arms, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Right,” you snorted, but his comment gnawed at you. “And how exactly would that solve anything?”

Morph just grinned, tilting their head thoughtfully. “Well, think about it. You two already get each other. You're both in love with people who are already taken. So why not take some of that stress off? Might as well team up and have a pity party together.” 

“Funny,” you replied dryly. “But Logan and I both know where we stand. We don’t need to complicate things further.”

Morph leaned in, their playful smirk never wavering. “Oh, come on, Y/N. You’re telling me you’d rather mope around with this crush on a guy who can’t even remember your name when Rogue’s in the room? That’s some next level torture.”

You shot them a glare, trying to ignore how his words cut a little too close to home. “I’m not moping. I’m just—”

“Just what?” they interrupted, leaning back with feigned innocence. “Waiting for Gambit to realize he made a mistake? Please. At this point, he probably thinks you’re just his backup plan.”

“That’s not fair,” you snapped, your voice sharp. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

“Sure I do,” Morph replied, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve got the whole tragic love story going on. It’s like a soap opera, only less exciting. So why not shake things up? You and Logan could make quite the team. Brooding heartthrob meets the queen of unrequited love? It’s practically a rom-com waiting to happen.”

They chuckled, and before you knew it, he morphed into the Wolverine himself. They adopted his brooding, eyebrow furrowing expression, capturing his essence flawlessly. “So, Y/N,” They said in a low, gravelly voice, “still hung up on Gambit? You know he’s not exactly waiting around for you, right?”

You crossed your arms, trying to maintain your composure. “You’re really going to keep this up, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” they replied, their expression a mix of seriousness and playfulness. “Why settle for someone who’s already got his eyes on Rogue when you could be with someone who actually sees you? Like me.”

“If only the real Logan could see you now. You wouldn’t last a second if he was here,” you quipped.

 “He’d probably give me a high five for finally getting you to lighten up.”

“Sure, right before he throws you out the window,” you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly. “Even if Logan and I bothered to give each other a chance, it's just another excuse for some love-hexagoned drama for the students to feign on.”

“Hexagon? I thought this was more of a straight line,” Morph said, shrugging playfully, returning back to their form. “How much longer are you going to let Gambit’s rejection keep you down?”

You sighed, feeling the weight of their words. “I don’t know, Morph. I’m still trying to figure out my feelings for Remy, and you know how complicated things are with Marie in the picture.”

Morph leaned in closer, their expression softening a bit. “Look, I get it. It’s a mess, but you can’t just let it stop you from exploring something new. What’s the harm in talking to the wolverine? You might be surprised.”

“Talking to Logan?” you repeated, rolling your eyes. “What’s that going to do? I’m not looking for a rebound or a distraction. I’m not that kind of gal.”

“Just a chat,” they insisted, his voice lightening again. “You never know. Maybe you’ll find out that you have more in common with him, more than just a mutual crush on unavailable people.”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes, getting up from your seat. “I appreciate the pep talk, but I’m not ready for that right now. I need to deal with my own stuff first.”

Morph crossed their arms, the grin returning. “Fair enough, but just know I’m here, waiting, when you’re ready to make your move.”

“Thanks, but really, let’s just drop it for now,” you said, feeling a bit lighter in thought as you made your way out of the kitchen.

As you walked through the familiar halls of the X-Mansion up to your room, Morph’s words were still in your head. They had a point, no matter how much you denied it. Maybe this was something you needed, no matter how ridiculous it sounded.

What could possibly go wrong?

chapter 3 - what we plan

The X-Mansion had another afternoon buzzed with its usual energy, the sounds of training and laughter echoing through the halls. You found comfort in your routine, but your thoughts often drifted back to Morph’s words from a few days back. Yet, every time you found yourself lost in those thoughts, a rush of uncertainty would follow.

After an intense training session, you retreated to the common room, seeking solace in the company of your teammates. As you entered, you spotted Logan across the room, leaning against the wall, arms crossed as he talked to Jean. Even bothering to talk about what Morph said to you with him was pointless. He had his own things to deal with, if it wasn’t clear enough.

You grabbed a nearby magazine, your eyes skimming the pages, but your mind wandered elsewhere. You recalled Morph’s words, their constant suggestion that you should pursue something with Logan. It felt too foolish to consider now. He had his own problems, and his own, personal interests. 

As you tried to concentrate on the text, you caught snippets of their conversation. Jean laughed at something Logan said, and your heart sank a little. You shifted in your seat, pretending to be engrossed in the magazine while you tried to make sense of your feelings. Was it even worth pursuing something with Logan, or was it just a fleeting thought sparked by Morph's teasing?

Lost in thought, you barely noticed the hours pass, and the only person left in the room was you. It was late. You threw the magazine back on the couch, and decided to head back to your room, making your way up the stairs. As you walked down the hall, you suddenly bumped into Logan, who was on his way back down.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You okay, bub?”

“Yeah, just didn’t see you coming,” you replied, trying to mask your heart pounding out of your chest.

He offered a small smirk, his expression softening. “You’re awfully lost in thought lately. What’s on your mind?”

You hesitated, searching for the right words. Should you mention Morph’s suggestion? Or the nagging feeling that there could be something more between you two? Instead, you shrugged lightly. “Just the usual stuff...training, missions, you know how it is.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “You sure–?”

“Yeah, well,” you interrupted, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, “there's a lot on my mind.”

He studied you for a moment, those intense hazel eyes piercing right through. “You wanna talk about it?”

The weight of his gaze continued to send your heart racing. 

This was it. You could either keep running from your thoughts or just finally spit it out.

 “I was thinking about what Morph said to me a few nights ago.”

A flicker of curiosity crossed Logan's face. “Morph? What’d that hellspawn say this time?”

You bit your lip, gathering your thoughts. “He mentioned us. Getting together. It’s ridiculous, I know.” The words tumbled out before you could stop yourself, leaving you feeling quite awkward. You tried presenting yourself enamored by crossing your arms and looking casual, but anyone could see right through that it was taking a toll on you.

Logan’s eyebrows furrowed, and paused for a moment, taking it into thought. He then let out a soft chuckle.

 “Y/N, don’t let Morph’s nonsense mess with your head. They're just trying to stir the pot, like always.”

You bit your lip, still unconvinced. It took him that long to form his sentence? You assumed the both of you were just not in the mood to discuss it, which was partially true. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It just had me thinking it over so much, that I–”

He cut you off with a wave of his hand, his expression shifting to one of playful exasperation. “Seriously, don’t overthink it. We’ve got enough to deal with without getting tangled up in that kind of drama.” 

And that was that. In the end, maybe it was a stupid idea after all. He placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a nod of reassurance as he walked back off.

You took a deep breath, attempting to collect yourself as you reached the top floor when you stopped dead in your tracks. There he was. Remy, standing there, hands in pockets just right in your way, with his usual playful smirk softened by something unreadable in his expression. He straightened up when he saw you, his eyes flickering that made your heart clench.

"Chère," he greeted, voice low and smooth, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond with the same warmth you usually did.

“Remy,” you replied, trying to keep your tone even, standing still. Though, your emotions stirred uneasily beneath the surface. After everything that had happened, after he’d stood you up and had made the decision to be with someone else, you couldn’t ignore the pang of frustration gnawing at you.

Taking a deep breath, you attempted to steady yourself, but the words you’d been rehearsing came spilling out faster than you expected. "Have you figured out what I mean to you yet?”

His easy smile faltered, and he looked away for a second before meeting your gaze again, regret shadowing his eyes. “Y/N, it ain't like that. I never wanted to hurt ya...”

“But you did, didn’t you?” The question hung between you, heavy and thick with the nights he’d promised and didn’t show, the times you’d let yourself believe he might actually feel the same way.

His hand reached out, but you pulled back before he could touch you. "I waited for you, Remy. I thought—” You trailed off, hating the vulnerability in your voice, but there was no point hiding it now. “I thought we had something.”

He looked down, rubbing the back of his neck, frustration clear in his stance. “Y/N, you mean a lot t’ me, but Marie... she’s somethin’ I just can’t let go of. She’s always been there in a way I can’t explain.”

You swallowed hard, nodding slowly, the ache in your chest settling as a numbness began to take its place. “I see.”

“No, chère,” he protested softly, stepping closer, his expression earnest. “I care for ya, but Rogue... she’s part o’ me.” He shook his head, struggling to find the right words, but they felt like nothing more than just empty echoes.

In the silence that followed, you took a step back, pressing your arms around yourself to hold together the pieces of your heart that felt like they were splintering apart.

"Fine. Let’s just pretend it never happened."

With that, you turned and left him standing there, resisting the urge to look back. If you stayed, you’d only keep finding yourself hoping for something that would never be. Remy reached out as if to stop you, but you turned, stepping away before he could say anything more, with your footsteps echoing against the quiet walls of the mansion. You were done letting yourself be second place.

As you reached for your door, you took a shaky breath, attempting to swallow the wave of emotions that had been threatening to burst free. You’d tried for so long to keep those feelings buried, to push them aside and pretend that things didn’t affect you as much as they did. But tonight, it felt impossible. You would do anything to get back at him, just as he did to you.

Just as you were about to turn the doorknob and enter your room, a voice behind you broke the silence. “You sure you’re alright?”

Startled by his voice, you turned, finding Logan standing there.

He’d seen it, hadn’t he? The hurt, the anger, what had just happened a few moments earlier...he couldn’t have just let it go unnoticed.

As you stood there, still reeling from your conversation with Remy, Logan’s voice broke through your thoughts. His tone was unusually gentle, his gaze fixed on you.

“I, uh, heard some of that back there,” he admitted, his voice low. “...Kinda hard not to.”

You nodded, letting out a sigh of defeat. “Yeah...”

Logan took a moment to steady himself, his expression shifting as he gathered himself before speaking again. “So, you’re done waiting around for him to make up his mind?”

“Completely done,” you replied, crossing your arms. “I’m tired of this backup shit.”

He chuckled. “Sounds like Gambit and Jean could use a wakeup call...” His tone turned mischievous, and you could almost see the thoughts racing behind his eyes. “You up for causing a little trouble?”

“What do you have in mind?” you asked, intrigued.

Was he actually reconsidering what you told him?

“You know... I thought about what Morph said to you, after hearing all that earlier,” he admitted, looking a bit conflicted. “At first, I figured it really was just them stirring the pot, trying to rile us up. But then...” He trailed off, rubbing a hand over his jaw, clearly gathering his thoughts. “Then I started thinking that maybe they were onto something.”

You blinked, surprised by the unexpected confession. Logan, of all people, wasn’t one open to change, let alone do something like this.

 “If they want to ignore what’s right in front of them, maybe they need a reason to think twice. We show up, give ‘em a taste of what it feels like to be on the outside looking in. You and me... pretending we’re hitting it off.”

Your eyes widened.

 It was simple, maybe a bit petty, but the thought of flipping the tables felt too satisfying. And this was an opportunity that might never come again.

 “So, you’re saying... we should act like we’re into each other?”

“Exactly,” he replied. “A few meaningful looks and some well timed moments. It’ll have them second guessing everything they thought they knew about us.”

“Tempting,” you admitted, still in thought about wanting to go with this crazy idea, but still hesitant on what could happen from it. You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.

“Okay, I’m in. But we need to set some ground rules; no crossing lines, and we keep it strictly for show.”

“Deal.” Logan extended his hand, and you shook it, sealing the agreement with a firm grip.

. . .

As you settled into bed that night, you stared up at the ceiling, replaying the day’s events in your mind. The idea sounded nice at first, and maybe it was originally Morph playing along, trying to play matchmaker. But now it was official. 

And you had no idea what you were about to get yourself into. 

chapter 4 - what we act

You woke up to the muted light of morning, filtering through the curtains. Your mind was already racing with thoughts of the day ahead. Today, you’d be putting the plan into action with Logan, and the uncertainty tormented you. How would it feel to pretend to be something you weren't? Taking a deep breath, you got out of bed, bracing yourself for whatever might unfold.

Making your way to the kitchen for a quick breakfast, you hoped to dodge any awkward encounters, but there he was. Logan stood at the counter, stirring coffee with an unreadable expression as he leaned against the counter, lost in thought.

As soon as he noticed you, a small smirk played on his lips, something almost conspiratorial. “Mornin’,” he said casually, but there was a spark in his eye that hadn’t been there before.

 He definitely had something in mind. 

“Morning,” you replied, trying to play it cool as you grabbed a glass of water. The room felt heavy with unspoken tension, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but feel a bit self conscious under his stare.

Logan set down his mug, his expression shifting to something slightly more serious. “You still up for this?” he asked, voice low, and quiet enough that no one else would overhear.

You took a deep breath, giving a decisive nod.

A moment later, you heard footsteps in the hallway, followed by the unmistakable sound of Jean’s laughter. Logan gave you a subtle nod, the silent signal that it was time to begin. You took a step closer to him, glancing up through your lashes just enough to catch his eye.

He responded immediately, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you in, his hands lingering beneath the hem of your pants, just enough for the warmth of his touch to spread over you like a shockwave. “Play along,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

You tried to settle your heartbeat as the footsteps grew closer. Jean and Scott rounded the corner, stopping abruptly when they saw the two of you standing so close, Logan’s arm around you, that spoke of something far more than friendship. You saw the flicker of surprise on Jean’s face, quickly masked with a forced smile, and a hint of something else in Scott’s usual stoic expression.

“Oh,” Jean said, voice a touch higher than usual, “Good morning, you two.”

Logan just nodded, that small, mischievous smile barely hidden. “Mornin’, Jean. Scott.”

Jean’s gaze flicked between you two, as though trying to piece together how she’d missed this...development. Her eyes lingered on you, a flash of something unreadable crossing her face, and you had to resist the urge to smirk. You were definitely giving them both something to think about.

Scott cleared his throat, trying to break the strange silence. “Didn’t realize... you two were so close.”

Logan’s arm tightened around you just a bit. “Well, there’s a lot people don’t realize,” he replied smoothly. The double meaning wasn’t lost on you, and the flicker of jealousy in Jean��s eyes told you it wasn’t lost on her either. You were tensed up in his embrace, and it didn’t help that your body was heating up right at that moment. Your throat was suddenly dry, struggling to utter a single word.

Scott's eyes shifted between you and Logan, his normally composed expression giving way to slight discomfort. Jean, on the other hand, tried to maintain her composure, but you could see the question in her eyes, the slight arch of her brow as if she was piecing things together.

“Well,” Jean said, attempting a breezy tone, “it’s... nice to see everyone getting along.” But her gaze had more to elaborate, the forced smile not quite reaching her eyes.

“Yeah, who knew?” Logan replied, his smirk turning just a little more smug as he pulled you closer. He was playing it up perfectly, and the look of surprise on both their faces was strangely satisfying.

Scott gave a polite nod, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the scene. “Right. Well, don’t let us interrupt.”

With that, he turned, gesturing for Jean to follow him down the hall. As they walked away, she cast one last glance over her shoulder, her expression unreadable but unmistakably intrigued.

When they were out of your vision, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Logan finally released you, a satisfied look in his eyes.

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” he said, his tone teasing, still laced with an undercurrent of seriousness.

“Yeah, but this was just a warm up,” you replied, a smile creeping onto your face despite the nerves churning in your stomach. “We’re going to have to keep going with this...show of ours.”

“Just keep it casual, and we’ll be fine.” Logan replied, getting up from his chair. He didn’t step away immediately, though; the space between you felt more charged than it had any right to be. His hand lingered again. This time, near yours on the counter, close enough that you could feel the warmth, and for a fleeting moment, it was quite easy to forget that this was all just for show.

You cleared your throat, shifting back slightly, giving yourself some breathing room. “Right, casual,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. 

The silence stretched, comfortable but weighted, almost feeling the unspoken change in his gaze.

“You’re overthinking it,” he murmured, his eyes glinting with a familiar spark. “If you keep acting like it’s a big deal, they’ll notice.”

You felt a slight heat creep up your neck, but shrugged it off. “I’m not overthinking,” you shot back, attempting to keep your tone light. “Just making sure I’m... convincing.”

He stepped a little closer, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Convincing? More like being stiff.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Not true.”

“Y/N, you looked like you had a stick up your ass.”

“I’m doing my best, okay? It doesn’t just happen overnight.”

Logan’s expression stayed steady. “Good,” he said, his voice softer but still direct. “That’s all we need.”

You took a breath, nodding slowly, feeling the weight of his words. “It’s just... a lot to think about.”

“Then don’t overthink it,” he replied with a slight grin. “We’re just giving them a show. Keep it simple, don’t force anything. They’ll see what they want to see.”

You nodded, only then remembering that once again, you had to continue this show of yours. You and Logan would be heading out on a mission tonight, with you alongside him. Together. They hadn’t told you who else would be joining, which left a gash of uncertainty in the pit of your stomach.

“Right, the mission,” you replied, trying to shake off any leftover tension. “No pressure, right?”

Logan chuckled softly, “No pressure at all. Just another night making sure no one dies.”

“Yeah,” you took a small breath, a smile breaking through your nerves. “And pretending to be in a relationship.”

“Remember to keep it simple,” he reminded you, a tease in his tone, while on your gaze before he walked off. “And maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll let you take the lead.”

 A knot of anxiety formed in your stomach as he left you alone in the kitchen. The mission ahead felt daunting enough, and the thought of maintaining the pretense of a relationship with him sent your mind racing. 

This wasn’t going to be so easy.

chapter 5 - what we suppress 

The evening air was cool and crisp as you made your way to the X-jet with Logan, Scott, and Marie, who was adjusting her gloves in silence. Scott’s gaze was steady, his expression all business, but you caught the slight hesitation as his eyes passed over you and Logan. Logan noticed too, throwing a quick, almost smug grin Scott’s way as he placed a casual hand on your shoulder. The warmth of his touch caught you off guard, but you willed yourself to keep a neutral expression, feeling the cool, easy role settling over you.

Marie, catching the gesture out of the corner of her eye, raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. If anything, the faintest hint of a smile tugged at her lips, like she knew something Scott didn’t. Scott, meanwhile, looked at Logan and then back at you with an expression somewhere between surprise and doubt, but he stayed quiet.

“Alright, listen up,” Scott began, folding his arms as he launched into the mission brief. “Intel indicates there’s a cache of prototype weapons and possibly experimental compounds stashed in the warehouse. Marie and I will sweep the perimeter. Logan, you will take the inner corridor. Y/N, secure the samples if you find any. We need evidence, so keep it quiet, keep it subtle, and stay on comms.”

“Understood,” Logan replied, the lazy smirk still lingering as he squeezed your shoulder for effect. You fought back the urge to shove him off, partly because his touch felt oddly...reassuring, but mostly because Scott’s slight frown felt like its own kind of victory. And seeing it any longer would make you cry of laughter. 

The X-jet lifted off, slicing through the night sky. You shifted your attention to watching your surroundings, taking a seat besides Logan, glancing at Scott who began to outline the plan once more.

“Alright, everyone. We’ll be approaching the warehouse in ten minutes. Rogue and I will cover the perimeter while you two head inside. Stay alert,” Scott instructed.

“Roger that,” Logan replied. “You just make sure to keep those laser eyes to yourself.”

“Very funny,” Scott shot back, his tone dry. “Focus on the mission, Logan.”

As the jet soared through the clouds, you glanced at Logan, who wore a smirk that could only be described as infuriatingly charming. “So,” he said, leaning closer. “You ready?”

“Yeah. Guess I'm being your emotional support tonight,” you uttered in a sarcastic manner. It happened almost naturally; turning your mind off to focus on what was ahead, you couldn’t deny it helped your case. “Someone has to keep you in check.”

“Good luck with that,” he retorted with a chuckle. “But I have to admit, having you by my side makes this whole mission a lot more interesting.”

“Glad to hear I can spice up your life, Logan,” you replied, trying to match his nonchalance. “Just don’t get too distracted by my presence.”

“Ah, you must be talking about your ability to look cute while doing nothing.”

You couldn’t help yourself but have a big smirk plastered on your face. “I can assure you, I’ll be doing plenty of ‘nothing’ while you’re busy kicking ass.”

Scott’s voice cracked through, his tone annoyed. “Are you two done flirting? We’re almost at the drop zone.”

“He’s right,” Marie chimed in with a sly grin, glancing over her shoulder at the two of you. “Save the romance for after we’re done.”

Logan’s smirk only grew as he leaned back, crossing his arms. “Don’t worry, Anne. It’s just mission talk. Mostly.”

The jet began its descent, and you felt the subtle shift in atmosphere as everyone went into mission mode. As soon as you touched down, the team moved quickly. Rogue and Scott split off to cover the perimeter as planned, disappearing into the shadows around the warehouse. Logan gave you a quick nod before signaling toward the side entrance, both of you slipping quietly inside.

The place was dark and still, the distant hum of machinery faint in the air. Logan took the lead, moving with a quiet precision that belied his usual rough demeanor. You stayed close, eyes scanning every corner, trying to ignore the fact that he was keeping just a little closer than necessary.

The comms crackled in your ear. “Y/N, Logan, we’re in position,” Scott’s voice came through, steady and calm. “Any movement?”

“Negative,” you whispered back. “Place is dead quiet so far.”

As you moved further into the building, a tense silence settled between you and Logan. He slowed, gesturing for you to check a nearby door while he kept watch. You edged forward, opening it just wide enough to peer inside. The room was packed. Crates, steel tables, shelves lined with sleek weapons and unknown tech. Jackpot.

“Found something,” you whispered into the comm. “Looks like prototype weapons, maybe more.”

“Copy that,” Marie replied. “Get what you can. Scott and I are still clear.”

You quickly snapped photos of the equipment, putting smaller prototypes in your pockets while Logan kept his gaze fixed on the corridor. But as you finished, footsteps echoed down the hallway, breaking the stillness. You froze, eyes darting to Logan, who signaled for you to keep low. You quickly ducked behind one of the tables, as he slid beside you.

“Company.” you murmured.

Logan gave a subtle nod, resting a steady hand over your lips as a signal to keep calm. His fingers lingered for a beat, sparking a warmth you tried to ignore, forcing your attention back to the sounds approaching.

Scott’s voice crackled in your ear. “Status?”

Logan cast you a sideways glance. “Just a little activity. We’re fine.”

The shadow of a guard passed just outside the doorway, pausing for a tense moment. You held your breath, clutching the edge of the table to keep from shifting, as Logan’s hand brushed yours in silent reassurance. The faint metallic clink of the guard’s gear sent a shiver up your spine.

The sound of boots hitting concrete grew louder. Guards. Too many to take head-on, especially in such a confined space. Logan’s sharp eyes darted around before locking onto a supply closet a few feet away. Without hesitation, he pulled you toward it, tugging the door open just wide enough for the both of you to slip inside.

The space was cramped, barely large enough to hold the two of you. Logan’s body pressed against yours as he adjusted his position, his arm braced against the wall to keep from crushing you entirely. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, his warmth seeping through the tension of the moment.

“Really?” you whispered, your tone dry despite the situation. “This is your big plan?”

“Unless you’ve got a better idea, quiet down,” Logan replied, his voice barely above a murmur. His tone was clipped, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

The voices of the guards grew closer, and the beam of a flashlight passed just outside the slats of the door. Your breath hitched, and Logan caught the sound, his gaze flicking to yours. He shook his head slightly, silently telling you to stay calm.

The guards paused right outside, their conversation muffled but tense. Logan’s jaw tightened, and his hand instinctively rested near his hip, ready to unsheathe his claws if necessary. But the seconds stretched on, and the guards eventually moved on, their voices fading into the distance.

Logan let out a quiet breath, his eyes flicking to yours. “Told you it’d work.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the tight space and the way his confidence somehow made the situation feel less suffocating. “Sure, if by ‘work’ you mean nearly giving me a heart attack.”

He shrugged, the movement almost brushing against you. “Heart’s still beating, isn’t it?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the corner of your mouth from twitching upward. “You’re impossible.”

The two of you stepped out, looking back and forth around the room to ensure no one else was around. But the momentary quietness didn’t last for long. 

Shouts from the guards grew louder, their heavy boots pounding against the concrete floors. Logan’s grip on your hand tightened as he tugged you forward, weaving through the maze of corridors.

“This way,” he urged, his voice low but urgent.

You followed close behind, heart hammering in your chest. The narrow hallway gave way to an open loading dock, the cool night air brushing your face like a lifeline. But the guards weren’t far behind.

“There!” one shouted, raising a weapon.

Logan didn’t slow, yanking you behind a stack of crates as bullets ricocheted off the walls. He growled low in frustration, eyes scanning for a way out. Spotting a gap between two trailers, he pointed. “Through there. Go!”

You didn’t hesitate, ducking through the opening and sprinting toward the perimeter fence. The sound of Logan’s claws slicing through the chain link sent a jolt through you. He gestured for you to crawl through first, covering your back before slipping out himself.

The two of you bolted into the cover of the nearby woods, the sounds of pursuit fading into the distance. You quickly turned on your comms for a moment.

“Scott, Rogue—they found us. We’re heading back to the rendezvous point.”

Marie’s voice crackled in response. “Got it. We’re still clear on our end. Stay low, and we’ll meet you there.”

Scott’s voice followed in. “What happened?”

“Guards,” Logan growled, keeping his pace brisk as he scanned the woods for any sign of pursuit. “Too many for subtlety. But we’ve got what we came for.”

“Just make it back in one piece,” Scott replied, an underlying tension in his voice.

“Always do,” Logan said with a smirk, cutting the comm connection before Scott could fire back.

The night pressed in around you, the sound of your breaths and the faint rustle of leaves filling the silence. After a few minutes, you slowed your pace, leaning against a tree to catch your breath. Logan stopped beside you, his sharp eyes still scanning the dark forest.

“You good?” he asked, his voice low but softer than before.

“Yeah,” you managed, your heartbeat finally beginning to settle. “Thanks for the assist back there.”

Logan shrugged, but his smirk didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “Wouldn’t have let you face that mess alone.”

You gave a small smile, feeling the weight of the moment settle. “Still, you didn’t have to...you know, drag me into that closet.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, and for once, he didn’t have a witty comeback. Instead, he locked eyes with you, something unspoken flickering in his eyes before he finally looked away.

“Come on,” he said, breaking the silence. “We’re not out of the woods yet—literally.”

You rolled your eyes but followed as he led the way through the trees, the faint sounds of the team waiting in the distance.

The treeline opened up to reveal the sleek silhouette of the X-jet, its ramp lowered like a beacon in the darkness. The faint hum of its systems was a welcome sound, promising safety and a chance to catch your breath.

You and Logan dashed through the trees, the X-jet’s ramp now fully lowered, and you kept close, adrenaline propelling you forward. Breathing hard, the two of you made your way to walk inside.

Scott was already at the base of the ramp, his arms crossed and a scowl firmly in place. Marie stood beside him, leaning casually against the side of the jet, her sharp eyes flicking between you and Logan as you approached.

“You cut it close,” Scott said, his voice tight with barely restrained irritation.

“Yeah, well, we ran into a little welcoming party,” Logan shot back, his tone deliberately nonchalant as he marched up the ramp. He didn’t spare Scott a second glance, leaving you to catch up.

You hesitated, brushing a stray leaf from your sleeve as you met Scott’s gaze. “We’re fine. The mission’s intact. That’s what matters, right?”

Scott’s expression didn’t soften, but he gave a curt nod. “Get on board. We’ll debrief on the way back.”

You moved up the ramp, feeling Marie’s amused eyes on you as she followed. “What’s his problem?” you muttered under your breath.

Marie smirked. “Oh, you know Scott. He hates it when things don’t go perfectly. But between you and me...” She glanced toward Logan, who was already settling into his seat. “I think it’s something else that’s got him all twisted.”

Before you could respond, the hatch sealed shut, and the jet hummed to life. Scott took his place at the controls, his movements stiff, while Marie slid into the co-pilot’s seat. You dropped into the seat across from Logan, who leaned back with a sigh, his usual smirk creeping back onto his face.

“Something on your mind?” you asked, keeping your voice low.

“Nah,” he replied, though his tone didn’t match the word. After a beat, he added, “You did good out there.”

The simplicity of the compliment caught you off guard. You nodded, hiding a small smile as you turned your gaze to the window. The X-jet’s engines hummed steadily, the familiar sound almost lulling you into a sense of comfort after the chaos of the mission. You were both finally in the air, the tension of the night starting to dissolve with each mile that passed.

You shifted in your seat, feeling the exhaustion catch up with you. The adrenaline was wearing off, and fatigue hit harder than you expected. Logan, sitting beside you, seemed just as tired but still alert, his eyes scanning the cabin like he was always prepared for the next move.

You leaned slightly toward him, your head subconsciously moving toward his shoulder. At first, you told yourself it was just to ease the aching muscles in your neck, but as you settled against him, something else tugged at your chest. His shoulder was warm, a solid presence that somehow made everything feel a little less chaotic.

“Don’t get used to it,” you murmured, trying to push down the warmth flooding your cheeks.

Logan’s voice was low, teasing, but there was an edge of something softer to it. “Wasn’t planning on it.” He shifted, adjusting his posture to make you more comfortable, but you could tell he wasn’t going to make a joke out of it this time.

You let the quiet settle between you, eyes half-closed as your thoughts wandered. This isn’t supposed to feel this way, you thought, the weight of the moment suddenly heavy in your mind. It’s just supposed to be a game, a distraction. But the more time you spent with him, the more you realized that it was starting to feel like something else. Something real.

As the jet continued its steady flight, you let the thought drift to the back of your mind, pretending it wasn’t there. For now, you’d let yourself stay in this bubble, pretending this whole “fake dating” thing was still just that.

But deep down, you weren’t so sure anymore.

chapter 6 - what we hide

When the X-jet finally touched down at the X-Mansion, you felt a quiet relief. The doors opened with a hiss, and you stepped out first, walking briskly to the conference room where the debrief was set to take place. Scott, Marie, and Jean were already inside, sitting at the long table, their expressions unreadable.

Jean, ever the perceptive one, was the first to look up as you and Logan entered. Her gaze lingered on you both, a quiet smile tugging at her lips, but there was something behind it. A glimmer of knowing that made you feel suddenly exposed.

“Mission accomplished?” Jean asked, her voice warm but with that trademark sharpness that suggested she’d already read through the comms logs.

“Yeah,” Logan replied with his usual gruffness, dropping into a seat beside you. His knee brushed against yours, the contact so subtle it could’ve been an accident. You fought the urge to look at him, to acknowledge the sudden shift in the air.

Scott didn’t waste time getting down to business. He slid a tablet toward you, showing the photos of the prototypes and weapons you’d collected. “Is this all of it?” he asked, his voice more controlled than before, but the underlying tension between him and Logan was still palpable.

“Yeah,” you replied, your eyes still on the tablet. “Everything’s documented. No casualties on our end.” You searched through the pockets of your uniform, putting the mini prototypes down on the table. “And...these too.”

Jean nodded, tapping her fingers lightly on the table. “Good work,” she said, her tone still warm, but there was an edge to it now as her gaze shifted between you and Logan. She seemed to linger on you for a moment longer than necessary, her eyes narrowing just slightly in that knowing way.

“Everything went smoothly?” Jean asked, her voice casual but with a hint of something deeper. “No... surprises?”

You swallowed, not sure if she was referring to the mission or to something else entirely. You glanced at Logan, who was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. His expression was unreadable, but there was something about the way his jaw tightened that gave you the feeling he was just as aware of Jean’s subtle probing as you were.

“Yeah, no surprises,” you said quickly, forcing a smile. “Everything went as planned.”

Scott slid the tablet back toward the center of the table, his gaze lingering on it for a moment before he looked up. “Alright, I think that covers everything. You’ve done good work,” he said, his tone indifferent, but not unappreciative. “Get some rest. I’m sure we’ll have more to discuss soon.”

You nodded, ready to leave the debrief behind you. The tension had been thick in the room, and now that the mission was officially over, you couldn’t wait to take a breath without everyone’s eyes on you.

Logan, however, didn’t move immediately. He turned his head toward you, that familiar, unreadable expression on his face. “You coming?” he asked, his voice low and casual.

You nodded again, standing up. The two of you started toward the door when Jean’s voice stopped you.

“Hold up, Y/N,” she called. “I need to talk to you for a second.”

Marie, who had been standing by the door, gave you a knowing look. Logan glanced at you, his expression unreadable, before shrugging. “I’ll be outside.” He gave you space to handle this, but the shift in the air was undeniable. You felt a wave of unease wash over you.

You hadn’t expected Jean and Marie to corner you after the debrief, but here you were, sitting across from them in the hallway just outside the conference room. You felt the weight of their gaze, the silent question hanging between you.

Jean, always the more subtle one, folded her arms, her smile just a little too knowing. "So," she started, her voice smooth and casual. "How’s everything going? You and Logan, I mean."

You stiffened, caught off guard. Your heart thudded in your chest, and for a moment, you found yourself lost for words. “Uh, it’s good,” you said, your tone a little too light, betraying the nervous flutter in your stomach. “You know, the mission’s over, so...”

Marie raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing smirk. “Yeah, sure,” she said, her tone dripping with that playful sarcasm you’d come to recognize. "It’s just... y’all seem real comfortable around each other, huh? A bit more than just teammates, wouldn’t you say?”

I guess they were really buying it now. This is good.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, what do you mean?”

Marie’s eyes glinted mischievously as she crossed her arms, leaning in just a bit. “Oh, come on, sugar. You two were pretty cozy back there. I’m just sayin’.” She tilted her head in a way that made it clear she was teasing, but there was an edge to her tone that made your heart race, a sudden panic crawling up your spine.

Jean smirked, sensing the discomfort in your response. "I was reviewing the comms from the last mission— must be something going on between you two.” Her voice was lighthearted, but there was something about the way she said it—acting like a couple, that made your chest tighten. You knew she wanted to get something out of you.

You laughed nervously, brushing it off. “It's nothing like that, really. We're just—just getting the job done, you know?” Your voice was a little too fast, a little too defensive.

Marie raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth quaking upward. “Mhm, I bet. But you can’t deny the vibes, sugar.” She shot a glance at Jean before continuing, her tone more teasing. “Just like how Scott’s been all mopey over Jean lately... though, we all got our own little dynamics going on.”

Jean nodded, the smile never quite fading. “You and Logan, Scott and I, and—” she paused, glancing at Marie, “Remy...and Marie. It’s funny how these things just...happen, huh?” Her words had a casual air, but you could tell she was trying to gauge your reaction.

You felt your throat tighten at the mention of Remy.

Gambit. 

Right. 

You knew you were technically pretending to be with Logan, but hearing it brought you back to reality. You weren't a real couple. You just had to keep reminding yourself of that. But... the way they were talking about their relationships so casually, it felt so much more real.

Marie’s smile softened a bit as she leaned in closer. “It’s okay, sugar. You don’t have to have it all figured out with him right away. Just take your time. I mean, things with Logan can be... complicated.”

Jean nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Logan’s not the easiest to figure out, I know. But he’s got a good heart under all that stubbornness. Just... don’t be afraid to let him in when you’re ready.”

You forced a smile, nodding in agreement even though your thoughts were racing. Pretend. Right. You had to keep it together, keep up the act, even though it was becoming harder to distinguish the lines between reality and the mission.

“Thanks,” you said, clearing your throat. “But it’s really nothing. Just... keeping things professional.”

Marie winked, still teasing. “Alright, sugar. But if you do decide to make it more than just a mission thing, you know where to find me.” Her tone was playful, but there was a softness in it too, a subtle kindness you appreciated.

As you, Jean, and Marie finally parted ways, heading off in different directions, you took a breath, trying to shake the awkwardness that had settled in the pit of your stomach, and made your way to the door.

As you stepped out into the hallway, you spotted Logan just a few paces ahead, his back to you as he walked toward the staircase. He must have been waiting for you, or maybe just lingering after the meeting, but either way, you appreciated his presence to stick around.

“Hey,” you called out, your voice slightly strained as you reached him.

He turned slightly, the hint of a grin tugging at his lips. “How’d it go?” His eyes flicked toward you, searching your face with an intensity that made your heart beat a little faster.

You paused, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “It went... fine.” You tried to keep your tone casual, but something in the way you spoke betrayed the uncertainty you felt. “They’re just curious about us.” You couldn't help but add the last part with a slight edge, as if the mere mention of it made your insides twist.

Logan’s brow furrowed, his usual unreadable expression faltering just a bit. “Curious?” His voice was low, like he was still trying to process exactly what that meant.

You nodded, rubbing the back of your neck. “Yeah, well... they think we’re actually a thing. Jean was all smiles, and Marie...” You trailed off, shaking your head as if it would help shake away the unease. “It was just a lot of teasing, I guess.”

A slight chuckle escaped Logan’s lips, and he glanced over at you, his expression unreadable but laced with something... almost like amusement. “You didn’t say anything, did you?”

You shook your head. “No, of course not,” you said, perhaps a little too quickly, but you quickly recovered. “Just enough to keep them satisfied.”

Logan’s expression softened, and he pushed himself off the wall, taking a step closer to you. “Yeah, well, it’s working, I guess,” he said, his voice just a little quieter now, a little less casual. He paused, watching you with a look you couldn’t quite decipher. “But maybe we should kick it up a notch, huh?”

You blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “Kick it up a notch?”

Maybe it was a joke, or maybe it wasn’t. You couldn’t tell.

You swallowed, trying to keep your cool, but something about the way he looked at you stirred something beneath the surface. “Well, I wouldn’t mind,” you said, your voice a little quieter than you intended, as your faces grew uncomfortably close.

Logan’s smirk faltered just for a moment, and you could feel the shift in the air around you. He didn’t immediately respond, the space between you both suddenly charged with something you weren’t sure you were ready for. He blinked, almost surprised, but then leaned back with a casual shrug as if to shake it off.

“Yeah, well,” he muttered, eyes narrowed, “I guess it wouldn't hurt.”

 His tone wasn’t as teasing as it would have been, which was a bit unexpected in your eyes. You tried not to think much of it. This was a fake relationship, after all. 

For a moment, neither of you moved. Your faces were so close now that you could feel the heat of his breath, your pulse racing in your ears. Logan held your gaze, and you saw that flicker of something deeper. Something that didn’t quite match the playful tone of his words.

But, just as quickly as it appeared, he brushed it aside with a half-hearted wink and a shrug. "Guess we’ll figure it out as we go along, huh?"

You nodded, a quiet tension still hanging in the air. As he turned and walked toward the stairs, you lingered, fighting the urge to follow him, the strange weight of the moment heavy on your chest.

One thing was for sure; things were definitely not as simple as they seemed anymore.

And though you couldn’t pinpoint what specifically, it was there.

chapter 7 - what we share

You watched Logan retreat upstairs until he disappeared around the corner, the faint scent of cigars along with it. The rest of the team had either gone to bed, or disappeared into their own corners of the mansion, leaving you alone with your thoughts. It was strange, how a place so full of people could feel so empty. You didn’t want to sleep just yet, your mind wide awake from the teasing Jean and Rogue had done just minutes ago. Lost in thought, you heard your stomach grumble.

A snack sounded better than staring at the ceiling for hours.

The mansion was quiet, save for the occasional creak of old wood settling. You reached to open the fridge, it's cold light spilling over shelves of leftovers and mismatched condiments. You grabbed a soda and some crackers, shutting the door with a quiet thud.

The voice startled you, making you jump slightly. You turned to find Logan leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, that unreadable look still firmly planted in his eyes. The surprise faded into a familiar calm.

“You always raid the kitchen this late?”

The voice startled you, and you turned to find Logan leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, that same unreadable look in his eyes.

“I thought you just went upstairs?” you replied, keeping your tone light. “What’s your excuse?”

He smirked faintly, stepping inside. “I don’t really sleep. Figured I’d hang with you instead.”

You raised an eyebrow, popping open the soda. “That your way of saying you’re hungry?”

Logan shrugged, grabbing an apple from the counter. “Maybe. The girls kept you wide awake, huh?”

You hesitated, the soda can cooling your hand. “More like the mission from today,” you admitted, leaning back against the counter. “Feels like I’m still out there, you know? Like my body made it back, but my head didn’t.”

Logan nodded, grabbing an apple from a nearby bowl of fruits, biting it hard. “It’s normal. First few times, it messes with you. Then it just...sticks with you differently.”

“Comforting,” you said dryly, and he chuckled.

Before either of you could say more, another voice broke the moment.

“You two always this chatty at midnight, or am I just lucky?”

You turned to see Scott standing in the doorway, his arms crossed, a disapproving tilt to his head.

Logan rolled his eyes. “Relax, Summers. We’re not plannin’ a coup.”

Scott gave a slight smirk but didn’t lighten much. “So are you two... a thing now?” he asked, his tone playful but still searching. "Or just the late-night hangout type?"

You felt a sudden awkwardness settle in the room, and Logan’s posture stiffened for a moment before he smirked, looking back at you to respond.

“A bit of both.” you replied, your voice a little quieter than you intended. You glanced at Logan, unsure of how much to say, or if you even wanted to say anything at all. The last thing you wanted was to dive into an explanation that neither you nor Logan had figured out yet.

Logan’s eyes flickered to yours. "Yeah, something like that."

 “Right. Well, if you’re both done with your midnight snack, and well...cracking your little situation, the danger room isn't going to run itself tomorrow.” He looked at you, his expression softening just a fraction. “Take care of yourself, alright?”

He left without another word, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

Logan finished his apple, tossing the core into the trash. “He means well,” he said, almost grudgingly.

“Yeah,” you said, setting your soda down, taking a bite of some crackers. “Doesn’t make it any less annoying sometimes.”

Logan smirked, pushing off the counter. “Well, you heard the man. Get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

“I will.” you replied, taking a small sip of your soda once again. You noticed Logan’s expression, lost in thought about something in particular. He stood near the hallway door, contemplating going on with his own endeavors, or staying with you. Either way, it was obvious the two of you weren’t planning to go sleep anytime soon. Not yet. 

“So, speaking of cracks,” you began, the words coming out slower than you expected. “You ever had anyone, you know, break through yours?”

Logan’s eyebrow twitched. “What, you mean, like, past loves?” His tone was neutral, almost shaking his head back to reality.

You nodded, curious but not pushing. “Yeah. It doesn’t have to be deep or anything. Just... someone who actually made you feel like you were seen, I guess.”

Logan glanced down at his feet, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment. He didn’t respond immediately, but you didn’t expect him to. Logan wasn’t exactly one for talking about his past.

Eventually, he let out a breath, his voice quiet. “Yeah, a few. Doesn’t last long, though. When you’ve lived through what I have, it’s hard to let anyone in too close.”

You gave him a sidelong glance, your lips curling into a small grin. “Yeah, I get that. But it’s funny, still willing to fake date someone, even with all that baggage.”

Logan’s eyes flickered toward you, the corners of his mouth twitching in what might have been a smile if he wasn’t so stubborn. “Don’t read too much into that,” he muttered.

“I’m just saying,” you teased, leaning against the counter with a raised eyebrow. “If you can pull that off, maybe letting someone in isn’t as impossible as you make it sound.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement there, just barely. “Fake dating is a hell of a lot easier than the real thing,” he grumbled, clearly trying to avoid admitting anything deeper.

“Sure, but it’s still a step,” you shot back with a shrug. “Maybe next time you won’t need a cover story.”

Logan paused at the cabinet door, hand on the handle, probably to get another snack, but he didn’t open it right away. He looked over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You seem pretty sure about all this relationship stuff now," he said, voice low and teasing. "Didn't know you were such an expert."

You chuckled, leaning back against the counter with your arms crossed. "Oh, I'm not," you replied, giving a small shrug. "Just trying to figure it out. I mean, we all have our baggage, right?"

Logan’s eyes darkened slightly, and he stepped closer again, almost instinctively closing the distance between you two. There was a shift in his gaze, a flicker of something else, something a little more raw. "Yeah. Baggage," he muttered. 

“I’ve got enough to fill a warehouse,” he added, for a short moment; his voice still rough, but edged with a dark humor. "Doesn't mean I’m looking for someone to help carry it."

“I understand,” you said quietly, your eyes lowering as you reached for your soda again. You took a small sip, gathering your thoughts. “I’ve got my own baggage too. Probably more than I’d like to admit.”

Logan didn’t say anything, but you could feel his attention on you, steady and unwavering. He let go of the cabinet door, walking slowly to where you were seated. 

“I get why you’d rather keep your distance,” you continued, your voice quieter now, your fingers lingering close to your soda can. “I think... I think I’ve been doing the same thing, just in my own way. Maybe I’ve been keeping people at arm’s length, too.” You met his gaze then, your eyes a little hesitant. “Maybe because I’m scared. Scared of getting hurt again, or worse, scared of realizing I was never really enough in the first place.”

Logan’s gaze softened, just a little, and his lips parted to say something. He hesitantly placed a hand on your shoulder.

“You’re more than enough,” he said, his voice quieter than before, a hint of sincerity lacing his words. The way he looked at you, like he was trying to convey something else without saying it directly— it made your heart skip a beat.

You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you just stood there, feeling the weight of his hand, and the moment. There was something about Logan that made you want to let your guard down, to let him see parts of you you refused to show anyone else. Something about the way he didn’t push, didn’t demand anything from you, he just let you be you. Authentically you.

It was never like that was Remy. No, not even. You wished.

“So, fake dating aside,” you replied, eyes darting away, interrupting the silence. “Do you ever think about what you’d want... if you actually did date someone? For real, I mean.”

"For romance..." he muttered, as if the word tasted foreign on his tongue. His gaze drifted, not quite meeting yours, as if searching for something in the air between you. He sat beside you now, arms on the table counter. 

"I guess it’s easier when someone’s already... taken, you know?" He finally met your eyes, an expression of something you couldn’t quite place in them. "It’s, well, you care about someone but you don’t have to act on it. Don’t have to figure out all the mess of... well, actually being with them. You can care from a distance, and that feels safer. That’s all." His voice was low, a little rough, but there was no bitterness in it, just a resigned honesty.

You didn’t say anything at first, processing what he’d said. It was a strange admission, and yet it made a twisted kind of sense. Logan had always kept his emotions buried so deeply, so well-hidden, that hearing him open up almost caught you off guard.

He cleared his throat, breaking the quiet. "I’m not saying I’m some kind of martyr or anything. I mean, Scott and Jean have their thing. I’ve got my... Well, whatever the hell this is." He waved his hand vaguely in the space between you jokingly, but his eyes didn’t leave yours. "But yeah, it’s easier that way. You don’t have to deal with the what-ifs, the risks. You just... live in the moment and let it go."

“Sounds like you’ve got it figured out,” you said, chuckling, trying to keep the mood light, but even you could feel the pain of his words. “The whole ‘keep it at a distance’ thing.”

Logan’s lips curled into a small, humorless smile, but there was a hint of sadness in it, too. “Figured out? Nah.” He leaned forward slightly, his elbows on his knees, still looking at you with that same unguarded look. “It’s just... easier to not feel too much. You know?” His voice was quieter now, and for a moment, you thought he might say more.

You didn’t push. You didn’t need to. You understood. You both had your own ways of coping, your own defenses, and the idea of letting anyone in too close felt dangerous. Too uncertain.

"Yeah," you said softly, a smile tugging at your lips despite the heaviness of the moment. "I get that. It’s easier to... not care too much, right?"

“If I care too much, they’ll get hurt in some way. Ain’t easy, letting someone in."

"Well,” you paused. “I still think the right person would help with the mess. Maybe it doesn’t have to be so...scary. More of just being there when things get messy."

For a moment, there was silence, and you both sat there. Logan’s eyes softened, just a fraction, and you saw the smallest shift in his expression. It wasn’t much, but it was there, something opening up, if only for a moment.

"Maybe," he said quietly, looking down at his hands. "But for now, I think I’m good with the fake dating thing."

“Yeah,” you said, your voice soft with a quiet understanding. “For now, we’re good.”

Logan stood up slowly, stretching his shoulders with a quiet grunt. "Well, we’ll see what the future holds," he said, his smirk returning, though it was lighter this time. "Get some sleep. Don’t forget about tomorrow.”

You nodded, your smile faint but genuine. "Yeah, I won’t, don’t worry. Thanks, Logan."

He gave you a small nod before turning toward the door. As his footsteps echoed down the hall, you stayed in the kitchen for a while longer. You never realized how easy everything was with Logan. You understood each other a bit too well.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

chapter 8 - what we break

The early morning silence greeted you as you pulled yourself out of bed. You stifled a yawn, stretching as the cool air nipped at your skin. Training day. No missions, no more disasters, just time in the danger room, blowing off some steam without needing to worry about anything else.

You moved through your routine, pulling on your workout gear and splashing cold water on your face to wake up properly. Training days weren’t always your favorite, but they offered a sense of normalcy in an otherwise chaotic life. At least, that's what you said, confronted by anyone who didn’t understand.

That optimism is what carried you all the way to the Danger Room. Standing in thought with your earphones in. As the doors hissed open, your steps faltered when you caught sight of who was already there.

Logan.

And Remy.

They were sparring in the center of the room, their movements fluid yet calculated, each step and strike of power and precision. Logan's growls punctuated the sharp clash of their practice weapons, while Remy’s easy smirk didn’t falter, even as he narrowly dodged an incoming blow.

Your stomach dropped.

Before you could run off before they noticed, Remy caught sight of you out of the corner of his eye and called out, “Morning, chère. You here to watch or join in the fun?”

You held out one of your earphones and froze, like a deer caught in headlights. Words failed you as your brain scrambled to come up with something, anything—that wouldn’t make you seem out of place.

Logan’s head turned at Remy’s greeting, his sharp gaze locking on you. His expression was neutral, but something about the slight tilt of his head made it feel like he was sizing you up.

“Oh, uh—yeah,” you stammered, stepping further inside before you could talk yourself into running the other way. “Thought I’d... get some training in.”

Remy straightened, tossing the staff he’d been holding to his other hand with a cocky flourish. “Perfect timing, non? We could use a fresh pair of eyes. Logan’s got his claws out today.”

You laughed awkwardly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Yeah, I can see that.”

Logan grunted, brushing past Remy and heading to the weapons rack. “You just gonna stand there or jump in, bub?”

Before you could respond, another voice chimed in.

“Well, this is going to be good,” Morph’s familiar voice drawled from the corner. They were leaning against the wall, arms crossed, their mischievous grin on full display. Clearly, they've been watching the whole thing, and from the look on their face, they weren't planning on missing a second of what was about to unfold.

You threw Morph a glare, but it only made them grin wider. Great. An audience.

“Uh, I’m good for now,” you said quickly, waving a hand. “Just warming up.”

You moved to the farthest available spot on the mat, your face heating under the weight of Logan’s and Remy’s lingering gazes. As you stretched, you could feel Morph’s eyes on you, too, like they were silently narrating every awkward twitch and stumble in your movements.

Trying to ignore them, you dropped into a stretch, but your limbs felt stiff, and your balance was off. Every now and then, you caught snippets of the sparring behind you. Remy’s smooth banter clashed with Logan’s gruff responses, the sound of their training weapons striking echoing through the room.

“Keep up, old man,” Remy quipped, his voice light as he sidestepped one of Logan’s swipes with infuriating ease.

Logan snorted, stepping forward with a calculated swing that nearly clipped Remy’s side. “Watch yourself. I’m just warmin’ up.”

You winced, fumbling mid-stretch. Morph’s muffled laugh caught your ear, and you shot them another look over your shoulder.

“What?” they asked innocently, though his smirk said otherwise.

“You’re distracting,” you muttered, focusing on your stretches again.

They chuckled, leaning casually against the wall. “I’m not the one completely flushed out.”

“I’m not flushed,” you snapped under your breath, though the evidence was plainly there.

Morph snickered, their ability to make you squirm practically a superpower in itself. “Sure, sure. And I’m not morphing into Gambit to test your poker face next.”

You groaned internally, pretending to ignore them as you tried to focus on the stretches. The sharp clang of Logan’s claws retracting pulled your attention for a brief second, and you couldn’t help but glance over.

Logan, as ever, was no-nonsense, brushing off one of Remy’s quips as he grabbed a towel from the bench. But when his gaze flicked toward you, sharp and assessing, your heart stumbled. Did he know how awkward and embarrassing this felt? Being forced to be with the guy you maybe still liked, along with your fake boyfriend?

 He probably smelled it. 

“Looks like she’s gonna warm up all morning,” Logan remarked gruffly, the corners of his mouth twitching upward just slightly. “You plan on actually doin’ anything, princess? Or you gonna keep flailin’ over there?”

Your head snapped toward Logan at the jab, and your hands dropped to your sides, clearly annoyed. 

"I’m stretching. It’s called preparation. Maybe you should try it sometime."

Remy’s laugh rang out before Logan could reply, a smooth, teasing chuckle that grated on your already frayed nerves. "You keep talkin’ like that, you’ll rile him up more than me."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest as you glanced between the two of them. "You’re both impossible."

“Aw, don’t be like that," Remy said, stepping closer, his ever-present smirk softening just a touch. "We’re just havin’ a little fun. No harm, non?"

You forced yourself to stay still, but every inch of your body wanted to react. Remy’s words felt like a mockery. Your stomach twisted from all of it. There was something in the way his tone lingered, in the flicker of his red eyes towards Logan, that made your blood simmer. 

You then turned towards Logan, of why you’d roped him into this in the first place. Gambit, Remy, the one who had broken your heart, had stood you up weeks prior, leaving you feeling small and humiliated. The worst part? He didn’t even seem to remember. But you did.

Meanwhile, Logan's expression was as unreadable as ever. Carved from stone, he gave away nothing, and yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else. Was he irritated? Amused? Or was it something else entirely? Whatever it was, it only bothered you more.

You gritted your teeth, stretching through the awkwardness while Logan and Gambit lingered too close for comfort.Remy was still smirking like he was in on some private joke, and Logan, for all his gruffness, didn’t seem to mind the tension he’d stirred up. You stole a glance at Morph, who, to his credit, had the decency to mime zipping his lips after Logan’s warning, but his eyes still sparkled with mischief.

With a sharp inhale, you pushed yourself up from your stretch and took a step toward Logan. “You’re right,” you said loud enough to catch both of their attention. “I should stop warming up and actually do something.”

Logan raised a brow, the faintest hint of amusement flickering in his expression. His arms were crossed, his posture relaxed, but there was a tension in his gaze, like he was waiting to see just what you were up to.

With deliberate steps, you closed the space between yourself and Logan. His expression shifted slightly, confusion mixed with curiosity, his body stiffening just enough for you to notice. When you stopped in front of him, his brow furrowed further.

Despite the rapid pounding of your heart, you reached up, cupping the edge of his jaw lightly with one hand, and pressed your lips to his.

The world seemed to still for that brief moment. His lips were firm but warm, slightly chapped, with a roughness that was distinctly Logan. The kiss was soft, unhurried, and intentional. You allowed yourself to linger just long enough to make it convincing, feeling the way his breath hitched almost imperceptibly, the slight tension in his shoulders as though he wasn’t quite sure how to respond.

When you pulled away, his eyes were on you, sharper than ever, and his lips parted just enough to give you the satisfaction of having caught him off guard. His expression was unreadable, a mixture of surprise, intrigue, and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“I’ve changed my mind about joining you two. I’m going for a run.”

You didn’t dare glance back at Logan as you strode toward Gambit, who looked as though someone had just yanked the rug out from under him. His smirk faltered for a split second, just long enough for you to savor the moment. But he recovered quickly, twirling his staff and tilting his head at you as you walked out.

Behind you, Morph let out a low whistle, clearly delighted by the sudden shift in the room’s energy. Logan said nothing, but you could feel his gaze burning into the back of your neck. If you focused hard enough, you might’ve been able to hear the faintest scoff.

As you headed to the outer yard of the X-Mansion, you couldn’t bring yourself to just run just yet. Your mind was still stuck on what happened in the Danger Room. The moment with Logan. The kiss. It felt like an impulsive decision, one that hadn't really been thought through, but in a way, it had felt right.

Mind racing, you were still standing outside the mansion, the weight of what you’d done sinking in. The morning air did nothing to settle your thoughts, only sharpening the confusion swirling in your head. What the hell had you been thinking? You didn’t even have a chance to understand it before your body had already moved. Shaking your head, you walked back inside, your footsteps heavy on the floor.

You’d barely made it to the hallway when you heard the unmistakable heavy footfalls behind you. The sound of Logan’s boots on the floor echoed loudly, and you could feel his presence long before he spoke.

“Thought you were goin’ for a run,” Logan’s voice cut through the silence, low and tinged. He was obviously pissed.

You didn’t turn around. You couldn’t. 

“Changed my mind,” you muttered, your pace never slowing as you reached for your keys. Your mind raced, but you kept your gaze straight ahead, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

His footsteps quickened, cutting the distance between you in two long strides until you reached the door to your room. You didn’t stop, but the sound of Logan’s voice, low and tense, made your heart stutter.

“Why the hell’d you do that?” he demanded. 

You finally stopped, but only to face him with your back against the door, your body tensing at the proximity. He stood there, eyes narrowed, like he was waiting for you to crack. His jaw was clenched, and there was an almost predatory tension in his stance.

“You were the one who wanted to kick things up a notch,” you replied. No matter how sarcastic you may have sounded, it was honest.

Logan’s expression flickered, something close to frustration flashing in his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, barely retracting as he crossed his arms. “That was never what I had in mind.”

You raised an eyebrow, and despite everything, a slight smirk tugged at your lips. “I’m not the one who started sparring with Remy. The last person I want to see. You didn’t exactly make it easy to just sit back and watch.”

He stepped closer, just enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him. His gaze flickered down to your lips for a fraction of a second before locking back onto your eyes. It was intimidating, and you held yourself back from trying to look away.

“I didn't need you to make me look like an idiot,” he muttered, voice low, almost rougher than usual.

You stood there, back pressed against the door, heart pounding in your chest as Logan’s presence loomed just inches away. The room felt smaller with every second that passed in silence.

You heard his voice, low and rough as he leaned in to repeat himself. “Why’d you kiss me?”

Taking a deep breath, you finally spoke. “I didn’t kiss you to mess with your head, Logan.” Your voice was steady now, no sarcasm, no defensiveness; just raw honesty. “But you’re the one who... made me think something else was going on.”

Logan scoffed, that almost sounded like a laugh, while shaking his head taking a step back. “Oh really? The same way you thought you had something else with Gambit?”

“What the fuck, Logan?”

The words caught in your throat, your breath quickening as the sting of his accusation hit harder than you expected. You pushed yourself off the door, taking a step toward him, your voice tight with disbelief. “Don’t you put that on me,” you snapped, pointing a finger to his chest. “You agreed to this.”

“You’re right, I did,” he replied, his eyes burning with something between anger and confusion, maybe even a hint of jealousy. “But you’re the one stuck in some damn fantasy of what could’ve been with that...cajun." 

“I’m not the one pretending like something’s going to happen with Jean.” The words were out before you could stop it.

Logan’s expression hardened in an instant, and the room seemed to freeze. His jaw clenched, muscles tensing under the strain of what you just said. You could feel the air crackling with tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy between you both.

He stepped back, looking at you as if you’d just struck him with something harder than your words. “You think that’s what this is about?” he spat, voice low and dangerous. “You think it’s about her?”

You didn’t back down, your own frustration burning. “Isn’t it?” you shot back, your voice cutting through the thick silence. “You’re stuck in some fantasy about her, too. Hell, everyone can see it. But don’t act like I’m the only one holding onto something that isn’t real.”

Logan let out a sharp exhale, his fingers gripping the edge of his coat, fighting to keep his cool. His eyes, though, were wild now, full of something you couldn’t quite define. “I’m not you,” he growled, the words coming out rough. “I don’t make mistakes like you. I don’t...” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

You took a step toward him, your eyes never leaving his. “And what? You think you’re the only one capable of making mistakes?” you shot back, your voice bitter. “Maybe we’re just not meant to have what we want. Because they could care less, to even bother giving a shit about us.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You could feel the anger, the disappointment of what you’d just thrown into the air. Logan stood there, his chest heaving, and for a moment, neither of you knew what to say.

He finally broke the silence, his voice quieter but no less intense. “I never said I wanted her,” he muttered, staring at the floor for a moment before looking back at you. His expression was as callous as ever, but the way he stared you down; he couldn’t say it himself, but his eyes could.

Your eyes softened from his answer, but the lump in your throat practically stopped you from giving a response. It didn’t help that your head was pounding from how chaotic your nerves had been turned over. Logan let out a frustrated sigh as you had nothing left to say, from his subtleness, and took a step back. His eyes were still on you, but there was a certain finality to his gaze now, something cold and resolute that you weren’t ready to face.

“Forget it,” he muttered, voice clipped, his face unreadable. “Whatever this is—whatever we are—it's done. I’m done.”

Before you could say another word, he turned and walked toward the door, his heavy footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway. You stood there for what felt like an eternity, the weight of the argument crashing down, the finality of it all, and the overwhelming ache in your chest settled deep into your bones.

And god, you hated it.

chapter 9 - what we mend

The days had dragged on like an unending weight. Each glance between you and Logan felt like a punch to the gut, both of you stiffening the moment the other entered the room. You didn’t even need to look at him to know he was avoiding you; his silence was louder than any words could have been. The same could be said for you. It was easier this way. Or so you told yourself.

Since that morning in the danger room, when your lips had lingered a fraction too long on his, everything had become... complicated. What had been a simple, calculated arrangement of a fake relationship, the harmless flirtation, was now tangled in a mess of confusing emotions. Neither of you had addressed it, but the tension between you had only grown thicker.

At dinner, you had barely looked up from your plate. Every time you did, you’d catch Logan glancing in your direction only to quickly look away. His eyes were stormy, unreadable, and it frustrated you more than anything. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d actually spoken to him, at least not without a stilted awkwardness between you.

The team noticed, of course. Marie, with her usual sharp eyes, had raised an eyebrow at the silent distance between you two. "You two been fightin’ or something?" she’d asked, but you’d merely shrugged, offering a vague response that did little to explain the situation.

Now, as the evening wore on and the mansion fell quiet, the tension was unbearable. The silence in your room felt suffocating, tossing and turning in your bed; and no matter how much you tried to focus on something—anything—to distract yourself, your thoughts kept wandering back to Logan. The way his lips had felt on yours. 

But the line had already been crossed. And you didn’t want to cross any others. 

With a decisive moment, you stood from your bed, slipping on your socks with a swift motion. You had to see him. You just had to know if this feeling—this damnable, undeniable feeling was mutual, or if you were completely losing your mind. 

Your steps were quiet as you walked down the hall, your heart pounding louder than the sound of your footsteps. You reached Logan’s door, hesitating for only a moment before you knocked. The sound echoed in the silence.

"Who’s there?" His voice came through, rough and thick with the weight of the day.

"It's me," you said, and before you could second-guess yourself, you turned the handle, pushing the door open.

Logan was sitting on the edge of his bed, dressed in his iconic white tank top and bootcut jeans. His posture was rigid, as though he were waiting for something. When his gaze met yours, his eyes darkened, but he didn’t say anything. He took another puff from his cigar, which didn’t help how thick the air was between you both. It was almost as if the room itself was holding its breath.

“What do you want?” he asked in slight annoyance.

 “I don’t know,” you muttered, the words coming out harsher than you intended. 

Logan didn’t move, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a tension in the air, something thick and unspoken. The silence stretched between you both like a taut wire, neither of you wanting to touch it, but neither able to ignore it either.

“You could’ve stayed away,” he said, his voice rough, like he was holding back something he didn’t want to admit.

“I know.” you whispered, a pang of guilt in your tone. “Look, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to push you.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might just brush it off, but then he spoke again, softer now. “It’s not just you.” His eyes flickered, as though searching for something in you, something he wasn’t ready to admit either. “I didn’t mean to snap at you either. It’s just... it’s easier if we both just pretend it didn’t happen.”

You swallowed, the weight of his words pressing against you, making your chest tighten. “It’s not easier,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the thick air between you. "It’s not easier for me."

Logan didn’t respond immediately. His eyes dropped to his cigar for a moment, a slight frown tugging at the corner of his lips. He exhaled, letting the smoke curl into the air, his gaze returning to you, but this time there was something different in his eyes. Something that softened the hardness you’d seen earlier.

“Then why the hell are we still doing this?” he asked, his voice low, rough with something that almost sounded like frustration. “Why are we still pretending if it’s this complicated?”

You took a step closer, your pulse quickening with the proximity. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

“I don’t know," you muttered, your voice barely a whisper. "But I can't stop thinking about it—about you. I can’t keep pretending it was just nothing." You looked up, your gaze meeting his, finding him waiting for something, something you couldn’t name.

For a long beat, neither of you moved. Logan’s gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, his jaw tight, as though fighting something inside him. Then, almost imperceptibly, he shifted forward on the bed, a breath escaping him as if he were finally deciding to let go of whatever restraint he’d been holding onto.

“You’re not the only one,” he muttered, his voice rougher now, barely above a whisper. “I’ve been tryin’ to ignore it, but... hell, you make it hard to forget.”

You took a breath, stepping closer, your body drawn toward him against your better judgment. You could feel the heat between you, the crackling tension that had been building for days now, impossible to ignore any longer.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, your voice cracking slightly. “I didn’t mean to make things so damn complicated.

Logan’s eyes softened, just slightly, and his hand reached out, brushing the back of your fingers with his. The contact sent a shock through you, like electricity, and you didn’t pull away. Instead, you let him close the gap between you.

“Not your fault,” he said, his voice thick, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “It’s me too. I’m... I’m not good at this shit. But I—” His words faltered, his eyes searching yours for something, anything. “I can’t pretend either.”

You didn’t give him the chance to say anything else. You pulled him toward you, crashing your lips against his. The kiss was hungry, desperate, full of all the unspoken feelings you’d been trying to ignore for so long. Logan’s hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer, as if afraid to let you slip away.

You didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. All the confusion, the frustration, the longing—it boiled over in a wave of heat that left you breathless. His lips were firm against yours, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside didn’t matter. The only thing that existed was the storm between you both, the undeniable pull that had always been there, buried beneath layers of doubt and distance.

When you finally broke away, you were both gasping for air. Logan’s forehead rested against yours, his hands still holding you close as if he needed to keep you tethered to him.

"Shit, I...that didn’t help, did it..." you whispered, your voice shaky, but a faint smile tugged at your lips. You didn’t know if it was a question or a statement, but it didn’t matter.

Logan’s laugh was low and rough, the sound a mixture of frustration and amusement. "No, but I figured as much." he said, but his eyes were still on you, intense, searching for something.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admitted softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them, your hands lingering on his chest to keep a certain distance. "I—"

Before you could finish, Logan’s lips were on yours again, cutting off any further words. This time, there was no hesitation, no second-guessing. Just need. 

“Shut up.”

His hands moved from your waist to your thighs, gripping you with a possessiveness that made your heart race. The way he touched you felt urgent, almost frantic, like he was afraid you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath the fabric of his tank top, and you pushed yourself closer, needing more of him. His lips were rough against yours, parting briefly for a breath, but you didn’t give him the chance to pull away. You kissed him harder, deeper, as if trying to erase all the space that had ever existed between you.

Logan’s fingers dug into your thighs, lifting you slightly as he pulled you closer, his body pressing against yours with an intensity that left you breathless. You could feel the heat of him through the fabric, and it made every nerve in your body hum with need. His grip on your thighs was firm, possessive, as if he was claiming you in a way that was both comforting and maddening. The way his hands moved, pulling you closer and closer, left you feeling dizzy, lost in the feel of him.

His lips traveled down to your jaw, and you gasped, a shiver running through your body at the feel of his breath on your skin. You couldn’t stop the way your hands wandered, exploring the hard planes of his chest and shoulders, wanting to touch every part of him. His scent, the warmth of his skin, the feel of his rough hands—it was all too much, and yet it wasn’t enough.

You let him take off your shirt, urging him to do the same, and one thing led onto the next.

Logan's hands slid up your sides, his touch firm but gentle, as if he were memorizing every curve of your body. You felt the steady rhythm of his breath against your skin, his lips trailing soft kisses along your collarbone. Each kiss ignited something deep within you, a rush of warmth that spread through every part of you. You moved closer, your hands instinctively reaching for his back, your fingertips grazing the muscles beneath his jeans.

His breath hitched slightly as your fingers brushed the waistband of his jeans, his body tensing at the touch. You could feel the intensity rising between you, the need in his movements, in the way his lips ghosted over yours before finally capturing them again. The kiss was deeper this time, more urgent, as though everything in the world had narrowed down to this single moment.

You pulled back just slightly, your chest rising and falling rapidly, trying to steady yourself. “Logan...” you breathed, your voice shaky as you searched his eyes, trying to read the same urgency, the same longing that mirrored your own. But there was still hesitation there, just beneath the surface. Still, neither of you moved, too tangled in the heat of the moment to do anything but breathe each other in.

His hand slid down your back, resting against the curve of your hip, fingers lightly gripping the fabric of your pants. He pulled you closer again, the intensity of his touch making your pulse quicken. “I know,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Me too.”

And the rest? It could only be described as bliss.

chapter 10 - what we confess

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the warmth. Strong, steady, and unfamiliar in the best possible way. It wasn’t just the weight of the blanket cocooning you or the soft glow of morning light spilling through the curtains. It was him.

And you were in his bed.

Logan’s arm draped across your waist, his fingers loosely splayed over your stomach as though even in sleep, he refused to let you go. His chest pressed against your back, the soft rhythm of his breathing stirring the fine hairs at the nape of your neck.

For a moment, you didn’t move. You didn’t even breathe, afraid that the slightest shift would shatter the fragile peace of the morning. You let yourself sink into it, let yourself feel safe, for once, in the quiet intimacy of it all.

Then his voice, low in a whisper, broke the silence. “You awake?”

You turned your head slightly, catching his sleepy gaze. His hair was a mess, sticking up in all directions, and there was a faint crease on his cheek from the pillow. It was so endearingly Logan, so unlike the composed version everyone else saw, that it made your chest ache.

“Yeah,” you whispered, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Logan’s lips twitched into a lazy grin. “Good. Thought I might’ve crushed you in my sleep.”

You snorted softly, your fingers reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “Not even close. Though you do snore.”

“Snore?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Princess, you’re hearing things.”

“Sure,” you teased. “You sounded like a chainsaw. A grumpy one.”

A chuckle rumbled low in his chest, and he tightened his arm around your waist slightly. “Guess I was too comfortable. Not used to sleeping next to someone who doesn’t wake me up kickin’ in their sleep.”

“Don’t test me,” you said with a mock glare, but your smile betrayed you.

His grin widened as he propped himself up on his elbow. “Noted.”

It was a strange kind of comfort, lying tangled together without the unspoken words or half-faked plans hanging over you. But the comfort didn’t last. The two of you had hardly gotten any words out last night, and reality, as always, had a way of creeping back in.

Logan shifted, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at you. His gaze softened, the usual storminess of his eyes replaced with something warmer, something gentler. “We gotta talk.”

You swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah. We do.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the words you both needed to say hanging heavy in the air. Finally, Logan broke the silence.

“This whole fake-dating thing,” he started, his voice measured, “I didn’t think much of it at first. Figured it’d be a pain in the ass, but... I don’t know. Somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling fake.” He paused, his hand brushing yours lightly. “At least for me.”

Your breath hitched, and you looked away, the weight of his words settling in your chest. “Logan...”

“I know,” he said, cutting you off gently. “I know you were hung up on Remy. And hell, I thought I was hung up on Jean. But the truth is…”

Logan hesitated, his jaw tightening as he searched for the right words.

“She was someone I thought I wanted,” he said, his voice quieter now, like he was speaking more to himself than to you. He glanced away for a beat, exhaling softly, before meeting your gaze again. “But... it was never real. Not like this.”

“This?” you asked softly, your heart thudding in your chest.

“This,” he confirmed, his hand finding yours and curling around it. “You. Us.”

A lump formed in your throat, and you found yourself struggling to speak.

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to figure it out?” he added, his voice softer now. “How hard it was to just... stand by while you kept lookin’ at him like he was everything?”

Your chest tightened, his words stirring something deep inside you. “I—”

“Don’t,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. “Don’t say anything you’re not ready to say. Just... be honest with yourself. With me.”

You bit your lip, your eyes dropping to where his hand rested against your cheek. “I don’t think I love him anymore,” you admitted quietly, your voice trembling with the weight of the words. “I thought I did. For so long, I thought I’d never get over him. But now...” You looked back up at Logan, your eyes meeting his. “I can’t imagine myself without you.”

Logan’s lips quivered into a small, almost disbelieving smile. “Good,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “’Cause you’ve been driving me crazy, darlin’. Watching you smile, hearing you laugh... it’s all I’ve wanted for a while now.”

A small laugh escaped you, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. “We’re a mess, aren’t we?”

“Maybe,” he admitted, his lips brushing yours lightly. “But I don’t mind. Not with you.”

The kiss that followed was slow and deliberate, a stark contrast to the desperation of the night before. This wasn’t about drowning in the moment. It was about finding something real, something worth holding onto. When it finally broke, your foreheads stayed pressed together, both of you breathing in the shared space.

“So, what now?” you asked softly.

Logan smirked. “Guess we stop pretending.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that,” he said, brushing his nose against yours. “You in?”

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in years. “Yeah. I’m in.”

And as his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you’d already found it.

[muniimyg]

⋆꙳•❅ ksj: buy me presents ❆•꙳

in which you and your boyfriend, jin, do a gift exchange... you get him a new game console and he gifts you his credit card

series m.list // taglist

note: pretty intimate..... idk..... holy shit !!!!

warning: body worship, spitting, fingering, jin eats her ass and pussy ??? choking, raw sex, missionary, doggy, anal !!!! oc's legs are over her head at one point, and jin has a big cock (duh)

//

the christmas tree bathes the room in a soft, golden glow, its twinkling lights dancing over the crinkled wrapping paper scattered across the floor. the scent of cinnamon and pine lingers, weaving through the faint melody of holiday music humming softly from the speaker perched on the shelf.

you’re cross-legged on the rug, knees almost brushing seokjin’s, his gaze fixed on you with that familiar mix of curiosity and warmth. the final gift for him sits in your lap, its weight pressing into your palms, making your heart skip with a giddy kind of anticipation.

“okay, this is the big one,” you say, nudging the box toward him.

he eyes it suspiciously, his head tilting like he’s trying to solve a riddle without all the clues. “what is it?”

“just open it, jin,” you reply, leaning back on your hands, and biting back a grin.

he makes a show of inspecting the wrapping job first, his fingers tracing the perfectly folded edges. 

“you wrapped this, didn’t you?”

“obviously.”

“of course you did,” he mutters, shaking his head with an exaggerated sigh. “it’s too perfect. how am i supposed to rip this open?”

“you could just do it,” you tease, gesturing impatiently. “before i take it back—”

immediately, he starts peeling the paper. he’s careful at first, then impatient when the box beneath reveals itself. when he lifts the lid, the air between you shifts.

“no way,” he breathes, staring at the pristine, matte-black console nestled inside. “a PS5?”

“yeah. do you like it?” you ask, your grin widening as his eyes flicker between the console and you, disbelief written all over his face.

but then he spots the second item tucked beneath it, a signed copy of valorant with the unmistakable signature of ninja, his favorite streamer.

“you’re kidding,” he says, pulling the case out with both hands like it’s the holy grail.

“merry christmas!” you say softly, watching as his lips part, his expression stuck somewhere between awe and amazement.

“this is—how did you even—” he trails off, his thumb brushing over the sharpie scrawl. “ninja… how? h-how’d you do this?”

“turns out he’s not that hard to track down if you know the right people,” you reply with a shrug, trying to play it cool even though your chest feels warm from how happy he looks. “he’s pretty nice too. chill guy.”

“you talked to him?”

“yeah. he said you’re handsome.”

jin sets the case down gently, like it’s made of glass, and reaches over to grab your hands, pulling you closer.

“this is insane,” he says, his voice quieter now, like he’s still processing it all. “you’re insane.”

“in a good way, right?”

“the best way,” he says, squeezing your hands before letting go and reaching for the console again. “i seriously don’t know how i’m supposed to top this. thank you, love.”

he reaches for you. you kiss him softly and giggle against his lips. he doesn’t want to let go of you just yet. seokjin leans in again, kissing you more. 

laughing, you pull away and reach your arms out to him. 

“my turn!” 

seokjin reaches behind him and takes out his present. his fingers nervously trace the edge of the ribbon tied around the small box in his hands. he looks at you, then at the box, then back at you, and finally thrusts it forward.

“here,” he says, voice low and almost embarrassed. “merry christmas, love.”

you take it gently, the velvet box cool against your palms. the name cartier gleams faintly on the lid, and your heart jumps. you glance up at him, but his eyes are fixed on the floor, his knee bouncing slightly.

lifting the lid, you see it—a thin gold promise ring, the dainty diamond catching the glow of the lights. 

it’s beautiful, understated in a way that feels so seokjin.

before you can say a word, he shifts forward, his hand brushing yours as he lifts the cushion beneath the ring. 

“there’s, uh… also this,” he mutters, revealing his sleek black credit card tucked underneath. he groans softly, his ears burning pink as he stumbles through his explanation. 

“to be so honest with you… i didn’t know what else to get you. the ring—it’s been in my sock drawer for 2 months. i couldn’t think, i ran out of time, and… i’m sorry. your present was so much better than mine. i feel so bad—”

your fingers tighten around the box, a laugh bubbling out of you before you can stop it. “seokjin,” you say, shaking your head, “this is perfect. thank you so much, love.”

he blinks at you, a little uncertain, and you reach for his hands, tugging him closer until your knees bump. 

“seokjin, i love it,” you murmur. “i love you.”

he exhales, shoulders relaxing as a small smile pulls at his lips. he takes the ring with careful hands, holding it like something precious. 

“this isn’t just a christmas gift,” he says softly, slipping it onto your finger. his eyes meet yours, steady and warm. “it’s a promise. i promise to take care of you, to make you laugh, to be patient when you’re stubborn and to listen when you need me to... and i promise to give you a better christmas gift next year… and the year after that. the year after that… and the year after—”

“i get it,” you laugh. “you could give me a paper ring and i’d still love it.”

he rolls his eyes, partly because he knows you’re telling the truth and partly because it’s riddiculous that he’d ever give you a paper ring. come on. he’s fucking rich and the ideal provider man. a paper ring? he’s not here to play games—10 carat ring minimum for your engagement (which he’s in the middle of planning). 

seokjin takes your hand and slips the ring on your 4th finger. 

“it fits,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing lightly over the ring now resting on your finger.

“it fits,” you echo, the corners of your mouth lifting as you admire the delicate band.

the mall is bustling with last-minute shoppers, but none of it phases you as you tug seokjin along, weaving through the crowd with his hand firmly clasped in yours. he follows you willingly, even when you pause outside a lingerie store, the display mannequins clad in delicate lace and silk.

you glance back at him, your lips curling into a mischievous smile. 

“what do you think? should i?”

his eyes widen slightly, his ears already tinged pink.

“uh—yeah. yes. absolutely.”

you giggle, dragging him inside.

a few minutes later, you’re behind a curtain, slipping into the first set—a soft pink number that feels like it was made for you.

“jin,” you call out, peeking your head through the curtain. “ready?”

“more than ready,” he replies, his voice slightly strained.

when you step out, his reaction is immediate. his jaw slackens, and he leans forward, elbows braced on his knees as he takes you in.

“oh my god,” he mutters, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. “you’re—wow.”

you do a playful spin, the fabric fluttering lightly. “so? should i get it?”

“get all of them,” he says without hesitation. “max out the card. please."

seokjin fears he might cum too fast tonight.

you’re wearing one out of the literal twelve sets and he can’t breathe. as his fred chain dangles above you, he leans down to kiss you. before he does, he pauses.

his presence fills the space like he’s the only thing keeping you grounded. his eyes that have you pinned. dark and searching, like he’s memorizing every detail of you, every breath you take.

“you’re so…” his voice trails off, soft and low, like he’s lost the words somewhere between his chest and yours. his hand lifts, fingertips brushing the curve of your jaw, then settling there like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you tilt your head up, heart thundering in your chest as his thumb grazes your cheek, his touch both gentle and deliberate. he leans down even more, slow enough to send shivers down your spine. 

“love,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours in a whisper of a touch, like he’s asking permission, like he’s afraid of what happens when he finally gives in. but then he does—closing the space between you, his mouth firm and soft all at once, his other hand slipping to your waist to hold you steady.

he kisses you like it’s the only thing he’s ever been sure of, his frame looming over you, protective and unyielding. his fingers tighten at your jaw, tilting your face just so, and when he deepens the kiss.

you grasp at his polo, bunching the fabric in your fists to keep yourself upright, and he makes this low, quiet sound in the back of his throat… it’s like the idea of you falling is too much. his lips leave yours for a moment, just long enough for him to rest his forehead against yours, his breathing uneven.

“you’re so perfect,” he whispers, his voice a little ragged, his thumb brushing once more against your cheek before his lips find yours again. “i love you so much.”

before you know it, he shifts, kissing you from your lips to down your neck. then, over your breasts. gently, he tugs on your new lace bra and reveals your breasts. he kisses them, finding your nipples along the way. sucking them, you let out a moan. 

then, he moves down. 

down to your stomach. 

down to your hips where he bites them. 

then, finally…

“all that lingerie shopping only for me to take it off of you, huh?” 

you giggle as he lifts your legs to get a better view of your pussy in the lace lingerie. he lets out a groan, admiring the way your body looks. quickly, he takes his shirt off and shifts out of his boxers. he’s totally naked now and you can’t help but admire his build. 

he’s so… strong. his body is so fucking lean and the way his muscle are carved makes it so difficult for you to not be soaking wet. 

and god… his cock?

his perfect cock. 

seokjin’s cock has to be the best one you’ve ever seen. actually, it’s the only one you’ve ever seen. you’ve been in a relationship with him since your early 20s and he was the one to take your virginity. when you talk about sex with your friends, you can’t help but feel sorry for them. 

not because their sex stories are mid… but because they don’t know how good you have it. how fucking good seokjin gives it to you. 

he always makes you cum first.

he’s good at foreplay—sometimes you cum so fast and hard that you sob. 

despite his size (which is an XL), he truly knows how to fuck. he’s so hot. all his mannerisms and the way he maneuvers during sex make your inside tighten and flip over. it’s almost indescribable how good he makes you feel during sex… just the thought alone of having sex with him gets you wet. to be in this position? underneath him, wearing the lingerie he bought you? 

you’re as wet as a fucking rain forest. 

and he knows. 

“so wet, love.”

“i know.”

“for me?”

“only for you.”

he smirks as he takes his cock and gives himself a few lazy pumps. he brings one of your legs over his shoulder and pushes the fabric to the side. he then drags the tip of his cock around your entrance. he taps on it and lowers his head to spit on your clit. jin takes a moment to massage his saliva into your clit, earning moans from you. 

“wanna play with you,” he mumbles. “but i… i can’t. you’re so pretty right now, love. can i just tell you that? you’re so perfect. i love the way your tits…” 

he pauses and caresses them. you get goosebumps. 

“they’re so plump. i love how they fit in my hands and… i love it when i stuff my face in them. so fucking perfect… and your neck,” seokjin’s hand trails up to your neck. he cups them, lightly choking you. “i love it when i wrap my hands around them. so dainty. so perfect for me…”

then, he cups your face and tuns his thumb over your lips. 

“pretty lips too… love it when they’re wrapped around my cock. love it when you kiss me and i bite them. i love how they feel agaisnt my skin… y-you’re… so fucking beautiful, love. your body is my favourite thing in this world. it’s my favourite gift. what did i do to deserve you?”

as you’re about to reply, you let out a small gasp as he pushes himself inside you. 

you squirm, trying to adjust to the sudden harsh push. his cock is hard and long, you feel it reach your guts. 

he stays still for a moment, lowering his body and kissing your neck. in your ear, he murmurs; “you okay?”

“mhm.. so big, love.”

“sorry,” he chuckles. “do you want me to pull out? i didn’t stretch you out… just… just wanted to be in you.”

“it’s okay,” you tell him, reaching to fix his hair. “can i have a minute, though?”

he nods with a soft smile. “of course, love. let me know when i can move.”

you nod and he continues to kiss your neck. he sucks on it, working on giving you a hickey. you try to relax your upper body and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. the sharpness of his cock inside you eases for a moment and you take that as a sign. 

“ready,” you whisper. “softly please.” 

seokjin moans in response as he gently thrusts inside you. 

he plants his forearms around you and pushes himself in deeper. his chain dangles on top and you watch it, trying to distract yourself from the burn. soon, you adjust and begin to feel the pleasure. when you feel it, you wrap your legs around his torso. jin takes note and begins to fuck you faster. you hold onto him, unable to stop yourself from moaning and groaning. 

he grunts a few times, feeling your warm pussy tighten around him. 

“jin…”

“yes, love?”

“doggy?” 

you don’t have to tell him twice. 

seokjin pulls out and gets up from the bed. he stands on the edge as you get on all fours. you arch your back as he takes your lace pantie and tugs it to the side. he slips his cock back in and you let out a shaky moan. 

he begins to fuck you, his pelvis hitting your ass loud and fast. 

“this ass….” seokjin breathes in awe. he slaps it before squeezing it. “god, it’s so perfect. look at your curves… love, you’re so perfect. i want to buy every piece of lingerie the world has to offer. you need to be on display… you’re so fucking perfect, my love. oh fuck, i… wow, this ass is so fucking big, i wish i could—f-fuck. let me just—”

without warning, he pulls out and kneels. seokjin shoves his face in your ass and begins to eat you out. he digs himself under, running his nose through your folds and a little on your clit. next thing you know, he’s running his tongue all the way your asshole. you yelp. 

“anal?” he requests. 

“sure.” you breathe, “can you do the thing—”

without hesitation, he stands up and reaches for your neck. he grips it tightly, choking you with a good pleasure. seokjin then runs his hand through your pussy and spreads your wetness into the rim of your ass. he spits on his cock, spreading the saliva to make it more slippery. then, he shoves it inside. 

you breathe in the sharpness and pleasure. 

seokjin chokes you a little harder as he fucks your ass. 

"fuck. you're so tight... so fucking tight... i love you. thank you for letting me have this... love fucking your ass, love."

"mhmm," you moan. "feels so good... cock so big, jin. i love it."

then, you cough and he lets go. 

his hands move to your hips, holding them steady as he fucks you. your body follows and he watches in disbelief how lucky he is to have you. 

then, his fingers find their way to your clit. underneath, he plays with you. you throw your head back from how fucking good it all feels. he plays with your pussy, flicking, pinching, and fingering you. 

“selfish little thing,” seokjin hums. “you want it all, don’t you? you like it when i fuck you in the ass and play with your pussy. i choke you and you love it. i… i give you everything. i love to do this, you know? i love giving you everything.”

you moan at his words. 

then, you hear him pant and feel him fuck you harder. 

“f-fuck,” he stutters. 

then, a few seconds later, as you feel his dick twitch—he pulls out. 

not to cum. 

but to flip you over. 

he kisses you while his hands guide your legs to go over your head. he stretches you, and you almost sob from the way your pussy pulsates. aside from all the fucking positions and everything you two have done so far—he’s also fucking insanely handsome. 

his innocent face and soft features contradict so much of what he’s done to you tonight. 

he takes your hands and tells you to hold the position. wrapping your arms around your legs, he kneels over and spits in your pussy again. you watch as his saliva slips inside you. then, he takes his cock and runs the head over your pussy. he pushes the tip in and then takes it out. he drags it down to your ass, lifts you a bit, and does the same to your asshole. 

“which one should i fuck? i love both equally.” 

you pout. 

“my pussy, please.”

he smirks lazily. “so polite.”

then, he shoves his hard, thick, long cock inside your pussy. 

he pumps himself inside and out of you. his eyebrows furrow from the pleasure and you feel him stiffen on top of you. you clench your pussy as you feel it throb. he fucks you through the sensation. 

“jin…” you breathe. “i’m… i’m gonna cum—oh my g-god—”

he slaps your pussy. 

then, he fucks you harder. 

“can’t this pretty pussy take more?”

you pout at him. 

“i’m… i’m s-so close,” you let out a sob. “you’re so mean.”

he chuckles and lowers himself. he kisses you and swats your hands away from your legs. finally, you let them go and lay properly. his hands then roam your body as he kisses you. against your lips, he murmurs;

“sorry, sorry.. got carried away. i love you, ___. sorry, love.”

as he fucks you, you forgive him. “it’s okay, love.”

“love, you cum if you want.”

you shift and give him a tired smile. 

“but you said not to."

"don't listen to me," he huffs. "i lose my mind whenever i'm inside you."

you giggle and kiss him once. twice. and then a third time before suggesting; "soft, lazy, sloppy missionary? think i can last longer.”

seokjin chuckles and nods. he kisses the top of your head and wraps himself around you. 

“whatever you want, love. i'm gonna give you everything.”

[scoupsakakitty]

Under Pressure | idol!S.coups x idol!reader | 14th svt member reader | tw! Eating disorder | angst,fluff

Filming for Going Seventeen was supposed to be fun. The members laughed, played games, and joked around, but Y/N was struggling to keep up the act. Her body felt heavy, her stomach twisted in hunger, and her head pounded.

She knew she wasn’t supposed to eat anything during the shoot, at least not the snacks that weren’t part of her meal plan. But when she saw the others enjoying the cookies and chips laid out on the table, she couldn’t resist.

She reached for a cookie and took a small bite, the sweet taste instantly comforting her.

But the comfort didn’t last.

“Y/N.”

She froze as a staff member appeared beside her, their voice sharp enough to cut through the chatter in the room.

“What are you doing?”

Y/N quickly placed the cookie down, her heart racing.

“I—I was just—”

Before she could finish, the staff member snatched the cookie out of her hand.

“You know you can’t have this,” they hissed, leaning in closer so only she could hear. “What were you thinking?”

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as a few of the members glanced in their direction.

Seungcheol, who had been sitting just a few seats away, immediately straightened up. His eyes locked onto the staff member, and his jaw tensed.

He puffed out his chest slightly, a subtle but clear warning.

The staff member seemed to sense the shift and hesitated before reluctantly placing the cookie back on the table in front of her.

But Y/N couldn’t bring herself to eat it. Her appetite was gone, replaced by shame and guilt.

Seungcheol kept glancing her way, his brows furrowed, but she avoided his gaze.

———————————————————————————-

The moment filming ended, Y/N slipped away to the dressing room, hoping to pull herself together before anyone noticed.

But she wasn’t alone for long.

“What the hell was that out there?” the staff member snapped as they shut the door behind them.

Y/N flinched, pressing herself against the makeup chair.

“I—I just took one bite,” she stammered.

“And that’s enough to ruin everything! Do you know how much pressure we’re under to make sure you look perfect? And you’re shoving cookies in your mouth during a shoot?”

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes as she tried to explain.

“I felt dizzy,” she whispered. “I was scared I’d faint—”

“No excuses!” the staff barked. “You need to get yourself under control. Do you want people talking about how you’ve let yourself go?”

Outside the room, Jeonghan paused as he overheard the harsh words. His eyes narrowed, and without hesitating, he turned and sprinted down the hall.

———————————————————————————-

Seungcheol was in the waiting room when Jeonghan burst through the door.

“Hyung, you need to come now.”

Seungcheol shot up from his chair.

“What happened?”

“It’s Y/N,” Jeonghan said breathlessly. “The staff is yelling at her. It’s bad, hyung.”

Seungcheol didn’t waste a second. He stormed out of the room, his strides long and purposeful.

When he reached the dressing room, he didn’t bother knocking—he threw the door open so hard it slammed against the wall.

“What the hell is going on here?!”

Both Y/N and the staff member jumped.

“S-Seungcheol-ssi—”

“Don’t,” Seungcheol snapped, stepping further into the room.

Y/N sat frozen in her chair, her face streaked with tears.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Seungcheol’s voice was low but filled with anger.

“She—she was eating during the shoot—”

“And?!” Seungcheol’s voice rose, making the staff member flinch.

“She knows the rules—”

“No.” He cut them off sharply. “The only thing I see here is you abusing your position and tearing her down. Do you think I’m going to let that slide?”

The staff tried to speak, but Seungcheol took another step forward.

“You don’t get to talk to my members like this. Ever. If you have an issue, you bring it to me. Not her.”

The staff paled.

“You’re done here,” Seungcheol said firmly. “If I hear one more word about this, I’ll make sure the company knows every detail.”

The staff quickly mumbled an apology before slipping out of the room.

Seungcheol turned back to Y/N, his expression softening as he knelt in front of her.

“Hey,” he said gently, brushing a tear off her cheek. “It’s okay now. They’re gone.”

Y/N finally broke, collapsing into his arms.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered. “I promise I’ve got you.”

———————————————————————————-

The ride back to the dorms was silent.

Once inside, Y/N followed Seungcheol into his room, her nerves eating away at her.

“Are you mad at me?” she asked hesitantly.

Seungcheol turned to face her, his expression soft but serious.

“No, I’m not mad,” he said.

“Then why won’t you talk to me?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m disappointed,” he admitted.

Y/N’s stomach dropped.

“In me?”

“No,” he said quickly. “I’m disappointed that you didn’t tell me what was going on.”

Tears welled up in her eyes again.

“I didn’t want to be a burden,” she whispered.

Seungcheol stepped closer, taking her hands.

“You’re not a burden,” he said firmly. “Not to me, not to anyone else. You’re part of this team, Y/N. And more than that… you’re mine. I’m not going to let anyone treat you like that again.”

Y/N broke down again, and Seungcheol pulled her into his arms.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Always.”

———————————————————————————-

The next day, Seungcheol followed through on his promise.

He filed a formal complaint against the staff member, and the other members especially Jeonghan backed him up without hesitation.

Y/N’s schedule was adjusted, and the strict diet rules were eased.

But more importantly, Seungcheol made sure she never felt alone again.

He brought her snacks during practice, forced her to take breaks, and reminded her constantly that she didn’t have to be perfect.

And slowly, Y/N began to feel like herself again.

She still had bad days—days where the pressure felt overwhelming.

But on those days, Seungcheol was there to remind her that she was never in this alone.

Because no matter what, he would always be her biggest supporter.

[iliketangerines]

light vs shadow

a/n: this took way too long

pairing: light!raiden x afab!reader x dark!raiden

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), fingerfucking, implied size kink

you feel like you’re going insane with the way Lord Raiden kisses you

or the darker version of him? it doesn’t matter, not with how his scarred and callused hands cradle your face as if you are made of porcelain

his voice is low and soft, face carved with lines of stress and age and anger, and yet he is so soft with you, lips moving against you so slowly and gently

he does not protest when your hand goes into his long white hair and pulls it out of its neat bun, and he does not protest when you tug on the shimmering locks

he simply lets out a low groan and moves one hand from your face to press against the small of your back and drag you in closer to him so that your chest presses against his

there’s a slight shuffle behind you and then you feel the hands of your Lord Raiden rest upon your waist as his teeth nip at the back of your neck

his hands are not nearly as callused, only slightly softer, but they are just as experienced as one hand dips down and brushes against your pussy folds

you let out a small sound, trying to grind your hips down on his fingers for some more pressure, but he simply moves with you, a small laugh escaping from his lips and splaying on your back

“you should have more patience than this, little one.” your Raiden teases you only slightly, and you can already see how his eyes crinkle with his amusement

before you can retort, your attention is brought back to the older Raiden as he groans and nips at your lips, sensing how he was losing your attention to the younger version of him

he continues to kiss you, his grip on you firm and strong as the lighter version behind you finally presses his fingers upward against your clit, slowly rubbing it in small circles

a sigh escapes from you as your hips grind against him on instinct, and you tug on older Raiden’s hair as you start to whine

“you’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” a shiver crawls down your spine at the older Raiden’s words, voice hoarse and rough from his wars and his anger

“no! i-i’m not!” you let out a whine as your Raiden slowly pushes one finger inside of your drooling pussy, and your hips jerk forward, not quite used to stretching so quickly

both of them let out a small chuckle, and the younger Raiden simply responds by slowly pumping one finger in and out of you while grinding his palm into your clit

“it doesn’t seem that way with how you’re soaking my hand right now.” your Raiden teases you, breath splaying across the shell of your ear before his lips move down to kiss along your neck

you want to make a jab back at them, but you can only let out a strangled whimper as the younger Raiden slides another finger inside of you

his fingers already feel impossibly big inside of you, stretching you out much further than your own fingers, but you don’t get a chance to concentrate on the thought as the older Raiden kisses you once more, stealing the breath out of your lungs

all you can do is tug at his shining white hair and moan into his mouth as the slightest form of rebellion

the younger Raiden only hums and curves his fingers, looking for that one spot to make you melt, and he presses kisses to the skin of your back as he searches

it’s not long before he finds it, your back arching off him, a loud whine escaping from your throat as your hips jerk forward into his hand

he smiles against you, working his fingers against the spot, feeling you tremble and shake underneath his hand as he continues to pleasure you, and he can feel the burning stare of the older version of him trying to burn holes through his head

a byproduct of jealousy and longing, he supposed, after all, it had been several years since this older version of him had gotten to see you, much less touch you

looking back up at the darker version of him, Raiden simply smiles and brings his free hand up to pinch at your nipple, silently jeering at the god as you moan louder at the feeling

the older Raiden simply growls and focuses his attention back on you, his eyebrows for a moment softening, his eyes staring at you as if you held the world in the cup of your palm

you don’t seem to notice, mind too hazy with pleasure as your body tries to grind down harder on Raiden’s fingers, attempting to bring yourself over the peak

Raiden can feel you clenching around his fingers, your arousal dripping from you and staining the inside of your thighs and the sheets the longer he fucks you on them

“that’s it, that’s it, so good for me, for us.” the older version of him speaks up, his voice gentle even as he bites at the exposed flesh of your neck

his hands stay on your waist, moving with you as your hips grind down further onto the younger version of him, and he hums at the sight of your face etched with pleasure

it’s truly a wonderful sight, one that he had missed for so long, and Raiden brings his head up to swallow your sounds as you whine and cum on his younger version’s fingers

he can feel every tremble of yours beneath his fingertips, the way your lungs struggle to breathe against his chest, your fingers tugging at his hair

you separate the kiss first, bringing your forehead down to rest on his muscled shoulder as you try and catch your breath, and the younger version of him slips out his fingers, admiring the glisten of your arousal on them

he brings them to his mouth, tasting it with his tongue, and Raiden can’t help but let ou a soft moan at the taste of you: it’s so much better than anything he could’ve imagined

it was a mistake to have thought you did not return his feelings, he should’ve courted you sooner, if only to see you smile and to undress you completely with his hands

the darker version of Raiden hums, lifting your head up and pressing one more kiss to your plush lips before you push at his chest and slightly shuffle backwards

your hand goes to wrap around his cock, eager to give him some semblance of pleasure too, but Raiden simply catches your wrist to press his lips to the back of your knuckles

“please, just let us worship you tonight.” his eyes slightly crackle red, and you feel the younger version rest his hands on your hips and press his own lips to the crook of your neck

“i mean-well, are you sure?” there’s still a nervous stammer to your heart, unsure if this is real, two versions of the god you have harbored feelings for worshipping you in every way

it simply felt unbelievable

“yes, we’re very sure. you can’t even begin to imagine how long we’ve waited.” the younger Raiden speaks up, his voice slightly hoarse, and you purse your lips for just a moment before nodding

the darker Raiden smiles, kissing the inside of your palm this time and focusing his gaze on you as the younger Raiden let go of you for a brief moment to slip off his pants

you go to kiss the older version, one hand resting on his face as he groans and puts one of his hands on your shoulder and the other at your waist

he wants more, to do more to you, to ravage you until you couldn’t speak, to kiss you until you couldn’t breathe, to have you boneless and spent from his hand alone, but after so many years without your presence and with only anger to fill the gaping hole of your absence, it was much too tempting to not take you right here 

perhaps at a later time, he could properly ruin you

his hand tightens at your waist when he feels you twitch in his hold, and you whine into the older Raiden’s lips as you feel your Raiden grip into your hips, the length of him grinding in between your cheeks

the younger Raiden dips his hand to your clit, slightly rubbing it side to side, just enough to relax you, and he slowly pushes forward, the tip of his cock stretching you out further than you can believe

a strangled sound leaves your throat, and you have to rest your forehead against the darker version’s shoulder as you tremble in his grip

tears spring at the edges of your eyes, and the younger Raiden places a soothing hand at the small of your back, “relax, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

he doesn’t press any further into you, simply waiting for you to relax as his older version presses gentle kisses to your neck and murmurs soft encouraging words into your ear

your breathing evens out after a few moments, and the younger Raiden slowly presses forward, keeping watch of your every small gasp and slight whimper

however, he can’t help the loud groan that escapes him as he bottoms out, his pelvis flush with your ass, and his hands grip on slightly tighter to your hips

you pant and whine into the older Raiden’s mouth, your arms trembling with holding the weight of your upper body to continue kissing him

“see, doing so well for us, taking me without a complaint, so good, so perfect.” the younger Raiden murmurs it, feeling and seeing how you tremble underneath his praise, and he slowly draws his hips back and then thrusts forward once more to listen to the punched out moan you give him

the older Raiden watches, enraptured with how you slowly unravel further and further underneath their collective touch, your moans becoming a blubbering mess the faster and faster the younger version of him fucks into you

soon enough, you can’t support yourself on your arms anymore, and he has to shuffle himself towards you on his knees so that he can support your weight as you whine and gasp

it allows the younger Raiden to slightly change his position, the head of his cock bullying against your sweet spot, and you let out a high-pitched sound as your pussy clenches around him and you come

the younger Raiden is quick to follow, hands gripping so tightly onto your hips that he’ll be sure to leave bruises tomorrow, and a low groan rumbles from his throat

he thrusts inside of you a few more times before finally pulling out, eyes transfixed on how a mix of his and your cum drips out of your cunt

you seem to catch your sense eventually after a few light kisses to the nape of your neck, and then the older Raiden drags you forward so that your hips meet

a yelp escapes from you at the sudden movement, and then a soft sigh as he kisses you, your hips settling down and grinding against the length of his cock

“i hope you didn’t forget about me.” the darker Raiden rests his hands on your hips, lifting you up briefly so that you can sink down on the length of him, and you can’t even find it in yourself to make a snappy remark as he dips his head down to nip at your neck

it seems as though you were in a for a long night

[zweetpea]

Bride of the dragon: Prologue

CW: talks to heirs

Summary: The princess has been taken by the dragon as his bride while a mysterious knight has been tasked with getting her back. The only problem is that the princess wants to stay with the dragon. She went with him willingly as his bride. The two must now learn to love each other which seems to be easier done than said (yes you heard me right). But is their love story as simple as it seems on the surface? read to find out!

IT'S FINALLY HERE! THE FIC YOU"VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR! BASED ON THIS!!

.....

“Princess! I’m here to rescue you!” The blonde night with long braided hair and golden eyes rolled up on a white horse to the desolate, ruinous castle.

“No thanks! She called out, unbothered. She lounged on her balcony reading a book and sipping some tea.

The knight blinked twice in surprise and confusion. “...What?” 

“I’m good.” She shouted flatly as she turned the page.

“But- but I’ve been sent to rescue you!” He laughed slightly, hoping that this was some sick joke or that she was lying for some reason.

“Listen buddy! I’m not leaving so you can either leave now or you can get your butt handed to you by my husband!”

“Wha- HUSBAND?! You can’t possibly mean the dragon can you?” He growled condescendingly.

“I do.” She sneered. She walked back into her cleanly kept and extravagantly decorated room. “Neuvillette!” The princess screamed acrimoniously.

“Yes, my dear?” He smiled politely at her as he rushed into the room.

“There's another guy trying to rescue me.” She spat annoyed. It was rather frustrating that hundreds of people were shaming her life choices. They had no right to tell her how to live or what to do. “Could you please help me out?”

“I suppose I could… in exchange for something.” His voice was playful as was the smirk that graced his lips.

The princess scoffed and smiled slightly. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” She couldn’t contain the teasing tone in her voice. She walked over and pulled his pristine suit down so she could kiss him. It wasn’t easy being married to someone 6 '10 who constantly demanded (pleaded) naked for affection in return for the comfy, private, pampered life you now lead with him. Though you suppose you couldn’t exactly blame him. He was a dragon hybrid and thus it was in his nature to constantly seek the affection of his mate.

He pulled her closer for a second. His soft lips danced against hers in a way that comforted her. He pulled away slightly before pressing a kiss to her forehead. His voice was soft and reassuring as he looked her in the eyes: “I will be back.”

“Don’t kill him.” She teased with a soft smile.

He laughed slightly. “No promises~” and with that he excused himself.

The princess looked around her room. It was so beautiful. Different shades of blue lined the walls in creative patterns like raindrops on windows. White and silver columns sat in the corners and around the doors to the hall, balcony, walk in wardrobe, and en suite. A four poster bed sat on a platform at one end of the room. Her royal blue, silk sheets still smelled of Neuvillette from the last time he came over to cuddle. 

She sat on the bed and reminisced about when she and Neuvi made this deal. She agreed to be his wife on the condition that she would never have to go back to the golden leash that was the throne. Her younger sister was more than understanding and willing to take up the burden of the throne so their kingdom wasn’t left to ruin. Of course, Neuvillette had a condition as well. She would have to be willing to be intimate and eventually mate with him. She didn’t mind, as he hadn’t asked for more than cuddling and kissing so far. Eventually she thinks she’ll love him enough to have his hatchlings but she wasn’t exactly concerned with it right now as everytime it was brought up Neuvillette became a flustered mess.

She walked out onto the balcony and saw Neuvillette dragging the unconscious knight away from the mountain castle. She howled with laughter at his pouty little walk. He was so cute when he was protective of her. She couldn’t blame him though. It was extremely irritating having someone new every other week show up in the hopes of “rescuing” her. All she wanted to do was cuddle her husband and read in peace.

When he came back he pulled her into his embrace again and just breathed in her scent. On one hand it was nice having her ground him like that, but on the other hand his instincts screamed for him to envelop her in his smell as a warning to all other creatures that he had won the beautiful princess’s hand in marriage and he would never let her go.

“Neuvi?” She looked up at him with big, pleading, doe eyes.

He was quick to respond, “Yes, my dear?” He tried not to sound desperate.

“Can we get some lunch? I’m hungry.” She smiled sweetly.

He chuckled and kissed her cheek. “Of course, my dear. I’ll have the Melusines prepare your favorite meal. Unless you’d like to try something new?” He raised an eyebrow prodding for her preference. 

She thought for a moment before her face lit up. “Black Bach Perch Stew please!”

“Then that is what we shall have. Come. let’s head off.” He smiled softly and grabbed her hand. She intertwined their fingers and walked off. Yeah… there was no way he’d ever let her go…

[nickeverdeen]

Hi! Can I ask for male OBX characters walking in on their S/O changing?

Male Outer Banks characters walking in on their lover changing

JJ Maybank

JJ walks in with his usual chaotic energy, stops dead in his tracks, and just stares for a second before realizing what’s happening

He’ll quickly cover his eyes with his hands but peeks through his fingers, joking, “I’m being respectful! Totally didn’t see anything.”

JJ does a dramatic spin to face the other way, arms wide, like he’s trying to give you privacy but still wants to be funny

He’ll leave the room but stick his head back in to say, “Let me know when I can come back!” before finally closing the door

Later, he apologizes in his own way, which usually means awkwardly trying to make it up to you with snacks or jokes

“If you need help picking an outfit, I’m available,”

While he plays it cool, he’s 100% thinking about how good you looked the whole time he’s teasing you

Blames you for no reason

“How was I supposed to know you’d be in the middle of changing? You could’ve shouted or something!”

He’ll casually wrap an arm around you later, as if the earlier incident never happened, but it’s just an excuse to be closer

If you tease him back, he’ll actually get a bit shy and avoid eye contact for a few minutes

“You’ll never guess what happened,” he tells John B later, laughing about the whole situation

After the incident, JJ makes a big show of knocking loudly

Once he’s done joking, JJ makes sure you’re not upset

John B Routledge

John B quickly slams the door halfway closed, peeking around it awkwardly to apologize

He instinctively throws his hands over his face, muttering, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see anything!”

“I should’ve knocked—this is totally on me,”

He might stand there for a second too long, trying to process the situation before his brain kicks in to leave

Gets a bit playfully defensive

“Hey, you can’t blame me for this one! You should’ve locked the door!”

John B is respectful and leaves almost immediately, but you can hear him chuckling outside the door

“We’re cool, right? You’re not mad at me or anything?”

He starts loudly announcing, “Coming in!” every time he enters a room after that

Even if he acts cool, his mind replays the moment all day, making him blush when he thinks about it

He’ll sit on the porch later, wondering if he made you uncomfortable and how to make it right

He starts knocking on every door, even when it’s unnecessary, like when you’re in the kitchen

John B makes sure you know he didn’t mean to invade your privacy and promises to be more careful

Pope Hayward

Pope’s face goes red instantly, and he stammers out, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” before slamming the door shut

He spends the next five minutes pacing outside the door, shouting apologies through it

Even after he leaves, his face stays red, and he avoids eye contact for the rest of the day

Pope knocks on your door every single time after that, even if you’re in the middle of talking to him

“Why didn’t I knock? I always knock! What’s wrong with me?”

He’s extra careful not to look at you for a while, worried you’re upset with him

Pope spends hours analyzing whether you’re mad, embarrassed, or fine with it

If you tease him about it, he’ll stammer and go bright red all over again

“I swear I wasn’t trying to, like, spy or anything. It was just bad timing!”

Pope becomes hyper-aware of your privacy, going out of his way to give you space

He genuinely feels terrible about the situation and checks in later to make sure you’re okay

Unlike JJ, Pope doesn’t tell anyone about the incident, not even the other Pogues

Rafe Cameron

Rafe stops mid-step, his eyes widening as he realizes what’s happening, but he doesn’t look away fast enough

“Uh… I—wow—uh, sorry!” he stammers, quickly turning around but clearly flustered.

Even while apologizing, there’s a little smirk on his face because, well, he’s Rafe

He steps out of the room but keeps the door slightly ajar, peeking back in

Rafe tries to act casual, leaning against the doorframe afterward like it’s no big deal, though his ears are pink

He’ll later casually ask, “You mad at me for that, or are we good?” just to make sure you’re okay.

“Sorry… but maybe lock the door next time?”

Rafe takes his time leaving, pretending to adjust something in the room as an excuse to stay for a few extra seconds

He’ll be distracted for the rest of the day, replaying the moment in his mind with a small grin

If it’s just him and Topper, he might casually brag about it

[eroscomet]

Make it Right

Chapter three- Afraid

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Paring: Astrid Deetz x Fem!Ghost!Reader

Warnings: Talks about readers death, a bit angsty.

A/N: TWO UPDATES IN ONE DAY, LET'S GO. I had to get the grind on yall. I've been leaving you guys dry with nothinggg. I hope that you guys enjoy this. I can't say that i'm fully out of my writers block but I do know that I have quite a bit of motivation. Also, I'm writing some new things as well, a Hermione fic, an Olivia Rodrigo fic, and I'm getting a Jenna fic started as well. I have some Oneshots in my drafts currently that I might release some time. Also, i'm sorry in advance if there's any mistakes, I wrote this whole thing in like an hour.

Proof read

╰┈➤Series Masterlist

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“What’s the frown for, dead girl?” Astrid murmured, gently running her thumb over your cold skin, which she had been so desperately trying to get accustomed to.

“I’m never going to be alive again. What if you lose your ability and never see my ghost again?” Your arm instinctively leaned into her warm touch.

“Y/N, i’m not going to suddenly just stop having this ability.” Her reassurance felt nice but did little against your fears. Her fingers raised to gently pinch your cheek, trying to bring a faint smile to your lips, “Don’t worry. I’ll keep seeing your pretty ghost face no matter what.”

A soft smile appeared on your face, wanting to believe Astrid’s words. Allowing yourself to get carried away by the thought as you continue to lean your cold, dead skin closer to Astrid’s warm, live touch.

“Even having gone through death, you’re still clingy.” Her tone was one of fondness.

━━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━━

Weeks had gone by, Astrid stopped by your house whenever she could and even when she couldn’t, you’d roam the town trying to find her like a lost puppy. She was the only one who could see and talk to you, without her, you were lost in a sea of people who couldn’t see or hear you. However, you did know Astrid the best, knowing where to find her whether it’s at school or at the Deetz household.

Currently, Astrid was sitting in her bedroom, trying to desperately study for a test that she had the following day. It was late at night, with Astrid only having her desk lamp on to prove enough light to illuminate her work. She let out a small huff, frustrated as the words were beginning to blur together on the paper. Raking a hand through her messy hair, she sat back in her chair.

“God damnit.”

“Boo.” You joked as you phased through her room’s door, smiling. Emitting a sharp gasp at the sudden voice, her head whipping around to look at the door.

“God! Don’t do that!” Astrid nearly yelled, her hand over her chest as she gave you a glare. She had thought she was alone in her room. So the sudden voice almost gave her whiplash.

“I’m a ghost, it’s what I'm supposed to do, no?” You replied with a laugh as you fully phased your body through the door, entering Astrid’s room. The Handbook for the Recently Deceased in her hand, “I’ve been reading up on this and there's a way to return to life, you know?”

Astrid had let out a small scoff, rolling her eyes at the handbook in your hands. She had always thought that it was a bunch of horseshit. She stood up from her chair as her girlfriend entered the room, crossing her arms over her chest, “Don’t bullshit me, dead girl. You’re a Ghost - you can’t just suddenly come back to life.”

“No, but I can trade a life for my soul. It says so in the book, that I need to find someone living that’s willing to give me life in exchange for theirs but…i’m having no luck. You’d be surprised how hard it is to talk to people who can’t hear you.” You said jokingly with a smile.

“Why am I not surprised?” She replied with an amused scoff at your joke, “Is that the only way for you to return?”

“Well, that and or marrying the living.” You said as you opened up the book, looking down at the page. “Though, I am a bit iffy on this option. It wasn’t from the book, it was offered to me by this man with green hair and a weird white and black striped suit. He said something about if I help him find his ‘bride-to-be’, all i’d have to do is find a person with a life to marry and he’d be able to send me back to the living.”

For a moment, Astrid simply stared at you, trying to process what you had just told her. It sounded batshit insane, but then again - it’s not like the world was any less insane at this point either. She walked towards her girlfriend, glancing down at the book. A slightly skeptical look on her face. Still, she put a hand on her hip, taking a moment to think about it.

“Okay, so let me get this straight. All you have to do is marry a living person and you’re good?”

“No, I have to find this guy’s bride-to-be or whatever. He honestly went on some monologue about her and I zoned out. He didn’t want to give me any information unless I agreed to take his offer. I think he said his name was Beetlejuice?”

“Beetlejuice?” She repeated with a raised eyebrow. The name sounded vaguely familiar to her but she couldn’t remember where she had heard the name before. She let out a sigh, moving back to her desk to take a seat in her chair once more. Raking a hand through her hair as she looked at you, “Okay, let’s just say I do believe this for a second - How are you supposed to find this bride-to-be for some weird Beetle-dude?”

“He’ll give me her name and a photo of her. He says all I need to do is find her and have someone alive say his name three times.”

She hummed quietly as she listened and thought over everything for a moment. It was starting to get into crazy territory for Astrid, but it’s not like anything that happened in this god forsaken town wasn’t already crazy.

“Okay, dead girl. Let’s say we do find the bride. What then? Who’s going to say the name three times?”

“I was hoping you could help? He says that his bride or whatever can also see the dead or something.” You shrugged.

“God, you’re a pain sometimes. Fine, I’ll say the damn name three times if we find this bride” She said with a small amused huff. Of course you were going to ask her to help out with something that sounded crazy enough to work.

“Also… You need to marry me for me to return to the living.” You said as you looked at Astrid. This was a big ask of you, and one that sounded irrational but how else could you return? Your hand began to gently pull the hairs on the back of your neck, nervously.

Astrid stared at you in slight disbelief at your words. Marriage - actual marriage. A part of Astrid’s mind began to wander, imagining what it would be like to marry you. Then she pushed the thought aside, remembering they were technically teenagers.

“Y/N, you can’t be serious about the marriage part. We’re teengaers.” 

“So, what, I'm supposed to wait years to return to living?” Your voice was a bit defensive, “What if his offer doesn’t stand by then?”

“Y/N, why are you so dead set on returning to life anyway?” She asked with a frown tugging at her lips, her tone was now more soft than skeptical.

“Because I'm dead and I'm cold and everyone sees through me but you. Even you can’t touch me for long before you practically freeze to the bone!” You said, your voice had wavered a bit as you became vulnerable by the question.

Astrid’s expression softened at your words, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, you had a fair point. It was hard for her to touch you for extended periods - even if Astrid loved holding you. But at the same time, Astrid couldn’t help but also feel a pang of guilt at her words.

“But you know I don’t mind if we can’t touch for that long. Plus, i’m the only one that can see you - that’s special, don’t you think?”

“And what about my family? I’ve been dead for a year almost two!”

She felt like her heart almost dropped at your words, she couldn’t imagine how hard this had to be for you, being separated from your family - not only by death but by her own ability. She gently laid her hand on yours, trying to offer some comfort. Unsure about marrying you, but her reluctance lessened a little at your words.

“You miss your family.” She mumbled, more of a statement than a question. She squeezed your cold hand, her other going to your cheek, caressing your skin gently. She let out a soft sigh, trying to organize her thoughts - but her mind was getting progressively more conflicted.

“God, this would be so much easier if I just said yes. It sounds like the best idea, but…” Her thoughts trailed off as she slowly retracted her hand from your cheek.

“You don’t want to marry me.” You said quietly as you realized, not needing to read her mind to know what she was thinking. You pulled away from your girlfriend’s touch, biting your lip.

Her gaze immediately whipped back up to look at you, her expression was a mix of shock and confusion.

“No, that’s-” She began, a frown quickly plastering itself on her face. She reached her hand out toward you, trying to grab your again. “-It’s not that, Y/N.”

“I’ve gotta go. My second deathiversary is coming up tomorrow.” You said as you stood up, not waiting for Astrid’s reply. You simply phased through her wall, leaving her alone in her room.

“Y/N, wait!” She explained, standing up to follow after her ghost girlfriend. She dashed over to the wall that you had phased through, trying to grab your hand before you left. However, Astrid’s hand only went through empty air - you had already left.

“God damnit.” She mumbled, cursing under her breath as she let out an exasperated sigh.

━━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━━

When the next day came, you found yourself sitting at a bench at the graveyard. Watching as your family visited your grave. Despite no one being able to see you, you wore all black since it felt most appropriate for the situation. Astrid had walked up to the graveyard, noticing you sitting on the bench in all black. Letting out a small, quiet sigh, she began to walk over towards you, but then stopped for a moment. Her eyes looked towards your grave, noting your family visiting and talking in front of the grave, probably leaving things for you to ‘use’ in the afterlife. 

“Astrid, honey! You made it! I can’t believe she died two years ago, huh? Still feels like yesterday.” Your mother said as she quickly walked towards Astrid, unable to see your ghost which was sitting right behind Astrid.

Astrid let out a strained smile, nodding her head. That smile was mostly fake, stealing a glance over at you.

“Yeah, yeah…it really doesn’t feel like it's been that long…” She mumbled, mostly playing along. However, the sight of your family made Astrid’s heart pang with guilt.

“I’m sure Y/N would’ve wanted her girlfriend here.” Your mom said with a pitiful smile as she put her hand on Astrid’s shoulder hesitantly.

“Yeah, she would have.” She responded quietly, trying to keep the guilt out of her voice as she glanced over at you, who only stared at your mother.

“Yeah, you know I just can’t believe…” Your mom had begun speaking, her pitiful voice drowning out as you began speaking.

“Can you tell her that I love her?” You said as you stared at your mother. 

How was Astrid supposed to tell your mother that her head daughter says that she loves her? “That would sound absolutely insane, especially to such an attention seeking mother-” Astrid quickly cut off her thoughts as she didn’t want to take them too far. She simply tried to listen to what your mother was saying, but your sudden words made her almost immediately forget. 

“How am I supposed to tell a mother that her daughter, who has been dead for two years, loves her?! I’d sound more insane than my own mother!”

Astrid glanced between you and your mother, trying to think of what to do. Her mind racing with thoughts, trying to find a way out of this situation. Her mind kept drawing blanks, and then she heard your mother speak again.

“Don’t you think?” Was all that Astrid had heard as your mother looked at her expectantly with a smile.

“Yes, I do think that.” Astrid replied, nodding her head and sending your mother a fake smile that she knew would satisfy her. She cursed herself internally for not listening to what she said before, nodding her head to your mothers words. She had no idea what she was agreeing to, all she knew was that she didn’t want to be speaking to your mother right now.

“That’s what I thought! This baby is exactly what this family needed. I’m very excited for Vera’s baby shower. I knew you’d agree that naming the baby Y/N would be a good idea.” Your mother said with a smile. 

Vera, your older sister who is twenty-two years old, apparently planning to name her first child after her sister, Y/N. Astrid knew it was purely out of her selfishness and wanting the attention directed at herself and not Y/N. She didn’t want to be in Y/N’s shadow after your death because her entire life she’d been the center of your parents' affections and attention.

Astrid’s eyes widened slightly at her words, the realization slowly dawning on her as to what your mother was saying to her. A part of her felt like she just had a bucket of water thrown on her. Your sister was pregnant and naming the baby after you and your mother had just asked Astrid’s opinion on it, knowing Astrid dated you. Astrid knew she should probably say something, but the words just froze in her throat. Her mouth opened and closed, but no words escaped her. She was happy that your family still loved and missed you, even if they displayed it in an attention seeking way.

Astrid felt guilty and almost selfish for wanting to keep you to herself, she bit her bottom lip and glanced in your direction. Your mother’s smile slowly began to fade, a look of confusion taking its place as she looked over to the direction Astrid looked, but seeing no one and nothing. Astrid’s eyes flicked up to see your mother staring at her, clearly wanting Astrid to give some kind of answer.

“You must be grief-ridden. I’ll bother you no more, but just know that you’re invited to the baby shower.” Your mother said pitifully as she shook her head, excusing herself and walking back over to your family at your grave.

“Yeah, so is half the town, don’t go feeling special with my mother.” You said with a small indignant scoff.

“Gee, thanks for the commentary.” She quipped under her breath, “You can cut the attitude, you know.”

“I’ve got eternity to hold this attitude. Literally, now that there's no way for me to return to living.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to be so..” Astrid paused for a moment, trying to find the right words, before eventually sighing and just deciding to say bluntly, “..bitchy, for lack of a better term.”

You slightly scoffed, you were somewhat amused but also annoyed. Shaking your head, you stood up and began walking away. Astrid was going to catch up to you but once you phased through a tree, you disappeared into thin air.

┗━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━┛

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, more to come I promise. Thank you so much for the love and support. Remember that you can request something on my page if you're interested! I promise to get on it asap. Anyways, bye lovelies!

[spotsandsocks]

Hello lovely, what a wonderful idea, I couldn't resist a ❄️ as where I l8ve we get hardly any but could I also go for 🎅 and "kiss" please?

Hello there and thanks for visiting my inbox to help me spread some seasonal fluff. Kiss you said and kiss it is

Buck laughs when he opens his Secret Santa gift. He suspects it’s from Bobby because he has one the same. It’s become a bit of a thing in the team now; his apron collection, it’s up to 8 now. Always room for another one.

He likes this new one, models it for everyone and then takes it off carefully, folds it up and promises he’ll wear it when he cooks next.

He does wear it, it’s Christmas Eve and he’s cooking dinner for Eddie and Chris, now back where they both belong thank god.

Chris is in his room, Buck’s stirring his sauce carefully and Eddie’s behind him, technically being his assistant but mostly watching.

“You look good in an apron, especially that one.”

Buck turns to face Eddie who’s leaning against the worktop, arms folded. He looks like he’s thinking about something.

Buck looks down. It looks like an apron to him, silly words that have been printed in millions of aprons across the world.

“Do you think I should?”

Puzzled Buck frowns at his friend “should what?”

A slight smile in his face Eddie points towards Buck or more precisely his apron. He starts to move and if you wanted to be even more precise you could say he was looking at the letters on his chest.

Eddie stops in front of him. A finger touches each word as he answers the question.

“Kiss the cook”

Buck swallows mouth suddenly dry.

“Well? Should I?”

He can feel Eddie’s breath on his skin.

Trying to get some moisture back he licks his lips. Eddie’s eyes drop to watch him.

“Well it is on my apron and we are trained to follow orders so I guess we should probably do what it says or…”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence because Eddie is busy following the instructions on Buck’s best Christmas present ever.

Now ❄️ was for the Christmas fic words but I’m not sure you meant that one from the way it’s phrased so I’m thinking the other blue emoji was Christmas jumper so I’m taking a chance you meant that instead. So here you are 💜

And just in case it was words you wanted here’s a mistloe kiss from one of my early fic

“I guess everyone likes kissing huh Eds?” Better he congratulated himself for getting closer to the key topic.

Then in a genius move he added, “its supposed to be bad luck if you don’t kiss under it you know.”

Eddie had remained quiet through his educational broadcast on Christmas’ most famous plant. At this point all he seemed capable of was a quite

“Oh”

Eddie was looking at him with rapt attention, looking at him in the way Buck liked so very much.

He took the plunge “in our line of work I don’t think we should risk it do you?” He offered it as a question wanting to let Eddie choose as he made his intentions clear. His hand only trembled a little as he cupped Eddie’s chin, bravely letting his thumb lightly trace Eddie lower lip. His eyes flickering between Eddie’s mouth and eyes broadcasting his thoughts.

[icrypop]

Oh my Love

---

Domestic shorts with the boys on Christmas Eve

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sylus

The Onychinus leader rarely indulged in domesticity, but tonight was different. His usually sharp demeanor softened as he stood in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, assisting you with a clumsy attempt at baking cookies.

“Sylus,” you teased, smirking as he managed to get flour on his face. “You’re supposed to mix it, not attack it.”

His amber eyes narrowed playfully. “If your instructions weren’t as vague as your bedtime stories, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

You chuckled, stepping closer to wipe the flour off his cheek. His hand caught yours, pulling you closer until your forehead rested against his. “I’m not much for holidays,” he murmured, his voice low. “But if they’re with you…” His lips ghosted over yours, making your heart flutter.

Later, you sat in front of a modest tree, wrapped in his arms as the fire crackled. His fingertips traced lazy patterns on your skin, and for once, the galaxy’s troubles felt light-years away.

---

Xavier

Xavier's refined taste transformed your living room into a winter wonderland. Twinkling lights, elegant garlands, and the perfect tree stood as his handiwork. “It’s beautiful,” you said, admiring his work.

“It pales in comparison to you,” Xavier replied, his silver hair catching the soft glow of the lights. He handed you a mug of hot cocoa and guided you to the couch.

You spent the evening wrapped in his arms, his soothing voice reading a classic Christmas story as snow fell outside. Every word felt like a melody, his love evident in every glance he gave you.

When the story ended, he tilted your chin up and kissed you, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the moment. “Merry Christmas, my love,” he whispered, his smile as soft as the snowfall.

---

Rafayel

Rafayel’s laugh echoed through the cabin as you threw another snowball his way. “You think you can take me down?” he teased, dodging with ease.

“Maybe!” you shot back, managing to land a hit on his chest. He feigned hurt, clutching his heart dramatically before rushing toward you.

Before you could escape, his strong arms wrapped around your waist, spinning you in a circle. You squealed, laughing as he fell back into the snow with you in tow.

Lying beside each other, gazing at the stars, Rafayel brushed a strand of hair from your face. “You make even the coldest nights warm,” he murmured. His lips found yours, the kiss both playful and tender.

Later, back inside, you sipped mulled wine by the fire, wrapped in a blanket with him. The mischievous glint in his eyes softened into something deeper as he held you close.

---

Zayne

Zayne was surprisingly skilled at decorating, meticulously placing ornaments on the tree. “You’re such a perfectionist,” you teased, watching as he adjusted a bow for the third time.

“Details matter,” he replied, smirking. “Besides, I want this to be perfect for you.”

Once the tree was finished, he dimmed the lights, letting the soft glow of the decorations take center stage. He pulled you to the couch, where a cozy blanket and a platter of your favorite snacks awaited.

You leaned against him, feeling his steady heartbeat as a holiday movie played in the background. “I never thought I’d enjoy something this... domestic,” he admitted, his voice soft.

You smiled, tilting your head to look at him. “Guess I’m rubbing off on you.”

He chuckled, brushing his lips against your temple. “Merry Christmas, my heart,” he said, pulling you closer. The world outside seemed to fade, leaving only the warmth of his love.

---

[n0vazsq]

Not ever | Marc Bernal x Reader

pairing . . . marc bernal x gf!reader

summary . . . Marc was always somehow clingy, but after his injury, he became a bit too clingy

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 1.6k+

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . died also idk anything about ACL injuries so i js treated it like a broken leg

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @notm4d1 ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

. . . Marc Bernal was a stubborn man, but you’d learned by now that stubbornness came in many forms.

Before his injury, it had come in the form of determination; hours on the field perfecting his form, late nights reviewing game footage, and a strong power to push through any challenge.

But now? Now, his stubbornness was all about you; keeping you within arm’s reach, clinging to you like his very life depended on it.

"Amor," he called softly from the couch, his voice laced with despair. He was propped up on a fortress of pillows, his leg elevated and wrapped securely.

Despite his injury, he still looked annoyingly good, hair slightly messy and those brown eyes glinting with mischief. "Where are you going?"

You paused mid step, holding his empty water bottle. "To the kitchen. You drank all your water, remember?"

"But what if I need you?" His eyes widened, and he gave you a look so pathetically sweet that you almost felt bad for him. Almost.

"Marc," you said, trying not to laugh. "I’ll be gone for two minutes."

"Two minutes is too long," he protested, holding out his hand. "Come here. Just for a second."

You sighed, walking back to him. The moment your hand touched his, he pulled you down onto the couch, his arms wrapping securely around your waist. "Marc! You’re supposed to be resting your leg!"

"I am resting," he said, nuzzling into your neck. "See? I’m very comfortable now."

"You’re impossible," you muttered, but you couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto your face. His arms tightened around you as if you might disappear if he let go.

"I’m injured," he reminded you, his tone almost whiny. "I need my girlfriend to take care of me."

"I am taking care of you," you replied. "That’s why I need to go to the kitchen, so I can bring you water and snacks and everything else you’ve been demanding all day."

"I haven’t been demanding," he said bitterly, though the effect was ruined by the way his lips were brushing against your shoulder. "I’ve been… asking nicely."

"Uh huh. Sure."

Marc pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Kiss me, and I’ll let you go."

"You’re bribing me with kisses now?" you asked, arching an eyebrow.

"It’s not a bribe," he said, leaning in closer. "It’s motivation."

You rolled your eyes but indulged him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He hummed in satisfaction, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as if to keep you there forever. When you tried to pull away, he pouted.

"That was too quick," he complained.

"Marc, your water…"

"Stay," he murmured, his voice dropping to that low, intimate tone that always made your heart flutter. "Just for a little while. Please?"

You sighed, knowing you were fighting a losing battle. "Fine. Five minutes. But then I’m getting your water."

"Deal," he said quickly, his grin triumphant.

He pulled you closer, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that was slower, deeper, and so full of affection that it made your chest ache. His fingers laced through yours, holding your hand tightly as if to attach you to him.

"You’re so clingy," you teased when you finally broke apart.

"Only with you," he admitted without hesitation. "You’re my favorite person, mi amor. Why wouldn’t I want you close?"

Your heart melted a little at his words, and you couldn’t resist brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "You’re lucky you’re cute," you said, and he laughed softly, the sound warm, making your heart beat slightly faster.

"I’m lucky to have you," he corrected, his voice serious now. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

"You’d survive," you said lightly, but he shook his head.

"Not like this," he said, squeezing your hand. "You make everything better, even when I’m stuck on this stupid couch with a torn knee."

You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could say anything, he shifted, pulling you fully onto his lap. "Marc!" you yelped. "Your knee!"

"It’s fine," he said, his hands settling on your waist. "You don’t weigh anything. And this is much better, don’t you think?"

You glared at him, but he just smiled up at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You’re ridiculous."

"Ridiculously in love with you," he countered smoothly, leaning in to nuzzle your neck. His lips brushed against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"You’re impossible," you muttered, but you didn’t move. You couldn’t bring yourself to pull away when he was looking at you like that, his gaze so full of love and adoration that it made your heart skip a beat.

"Maybe," he admitted, his smile softening. "But you love me anyway, right?"

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips. "Yeah, I do."

"Good," he said, pulling you down for another kiss. This one was slower, sweeter, and so full of emotion that it made your chest ache. When you finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes fluttering closed.

"I love you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "So much."

"I love you too," you said softly, your hand coming up to cup his cheek. His eyes opened, and he looked at you with so much tenderness that it took your breath away.

"Stay with me," he said again, his voice pleading. "Just for a little while longer."

You knew you should get up, that he needed his water and you had other things to do, but in that moment, nothing else mattered. You nodded, settling against him as his arms wrapped around you securely.

"Just for a little while," you whispered, and he smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"That’s all I need," he said, his voice soft and content.

For the rest of the afternoon, you stayed there with him, his arms holding you close as if to remind you that you were his, and that he wasn’t letting you go anytime soon.

As the hours passed, you found yourself completely wrapped up in Marc's presence, your body nestled comfortably against his. It wasn’t just the physical proximity; there was something about the way he held you that felt so secure, so comforting.

He didn’t want to let go, not even for a second. It was almost like his need for you was more than just emotional; it was something deep. You could feel the way he’d tighten his grip on you when you tried to move, pulling you back toward him with a quiet insistence.

"Amor, you’re not going anywhere, right?" he murmured into your hair, his lips brushing against the top of your head. The soft sound of his voice, laced with a quiet desperation, made your heart flutter in your chest.

You looked up at him, giving him a soft smile. "I’m not going anywhere, Marc."

He gave you a small, satisfied smile, but it didn’t last long before his lips were finding yours, the kiss gentle at first, testing, almost as if asking for permission.

His hand came to rest on your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. When you responded, kissing him back with the same tenderness, he deepened the kiss, his body pressing closer, his knee injury forgotten in the heat of the moment.

The kiss was slow, deliberate, as if he was trying to savor every second. You felt his breath quicken as his hand moved to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair, holding you in place as he kissed you harder.

There was no rush, no urgency, just the overwhelming feeling of him needing to be close to you. His lips were soft against yours, his kisses lingering as though he couldn’t bear to pull away.

When he finally did, it was only to breathe, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes closed like he was memorizing the way you felt.

"I just… I need to be near you," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever."

You smiled, tracing his jaw with your fingers, the simple act of touching him grounding you. "I’m not going anywhere, Marc. I’m right here."

His arms tightened around you again, pulling you onto his lap, despite the injury. You felt his breath hitch as he shifted carefully, but he didn’t let you go.

"Good," he murmured, his lips brushing your neck in a tender, slow kiss that made your heart skip a beat. "I’m so lucky to have you."

"You’re lucky to have me?" you teased, lifting your head to look at him. "I think the luck’s all on my side."

Marc laughed softly, his hands gently caressing your back as he settled you more comfortably on his lap. "You have no idea how much I love you," he said, his voice filled with a sincerity that made your chest tighten.

He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulled back to look into your eyes. "You’re everything to me. And I want you to know that. Every day, always."

You could feel your heart swell at his words, your own emotions rising with every touch, every kiss.

You cupped his face in your hands, pulling him in for another kiss, deeper this time, as if you could convey everything you were feeling without words.

Marc kissed you back with equal intensity, his hands moving to your waist, gently pulling you closer.

"Stay with me like this forever," he whispered between kisses, his lips tracing over your skin. "I never want to let you go."

You smiled, kissing him again, more passionately this time. “I’m not going anywhere, Marc,” you repeated, as if your words were a promise, a vow.

And he believed you.

[lovelettersforthedamned]

are we going to find a hockey!peter angsty (like when him and bug are still kinda hate fucking) under our tree?

Pick Up

✰ college!hockey!peter parker x f!reader

✰ word count: 0.9k

✰ summary: giving peter a taste of his own medicine feels good.

✰ warnings: language, angst, fluff, sexual innuedos at the end, a deep kiss.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

i think santa left this under your tree ;).

gif by @ddlovatosrps

The chilled air inside the rink sniped at your cheeks, but the fire that sparked through your nerves kept your body warm. 

You were practically seething in anger, and yet no one knew. You always tried to keep your calm, but when it came to Peter? He made it close to impossible. 

It was hard to be upset at Peter while watching him play. The crowd surrounding him adored him. You would go far enough to say that some girls would kill to be in your position. Who wouldn’t want to keep ‘hockey captain’ Peter’s bed warm? 

At this point? You wouldn’t, and you wish you never did. 

 Your mind was completely distracted until the last second of the previous period. Another win for Peter, of course. After parting with the opposing team and celebrating with his teammates, he liked to make his way to the glass, greeting you and making sure you met with him outside of the locker room. 

But as he was scanning the bleachers for the jersey you always wore, you weren’t there. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, only to see you already at the exit, shoving open the door. Clearing his throat, he tries to throw away the odd feeling of disappointment. 

The both of you were trying to walk as fast as possible, only you were walking home while Peter was trying to catch you before you made it far. The speed he undressed and packed all of his things was astonishing, and his teammates questioned his haste on his way out. Peter carried a look of determination on his face, making them step out of his way. 

As you were weaving through the cars in the parking lot, you mentally cursed the size of the lot. You swore you were walking as fast as possible, yet the main street was still so far away. “Bug,” a voice yelled out behind you. Your body tenses for a second, knowing who is calling out for you. Yet, you refuse to turn around, pretending to not hear him. 

Peter calls out for you again, this time, his voice is louder. You barely have time to take another breath as he suddenly appears next to you. Looking over at him, he’s out of breath. He’s the last person you wanted to see, “What.” You didn’t phrase it as a question. You were genuinely looking for the quickest way out of this conversation as fast as possible. 

“I didn’t see you at the glass,” he pauses, “or outside the locker room.” 

“Mhm,” you nod, letting him put in the work for once. 

Peter’s getting fed up with your attitude. He’s trying to get to the bottom of it and you’re not making it easy. He huffs out a frustrated laugh, “And why’s that, bug?” A hint of irritation in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed. 

A flicker of satisfaction makes your body tingle. It feels nice knowing that you’re the one playing with Peter’s mind. It almost makes you giggle. Biting your lip, you cut him some slack. “Someone was supposed to pick me up from the train station today,” you sigh dramatically, “but they didn’t; so I had to find a ride. Can you believe it?” You were milking it, but you couldn’t stop now.

“Fuck, I am so sorry–,” you grab his arm, silencing him. 

“Why are you apologizing, Petey? Unless you were the one who had to pick me up? That couldn’t be you, because you wouldn’t forget,” you were almost at the point of yelling at this point, causing the people around you to stare. Letting go of his arm, you smile sweetly before starting to walk away from him. 

“(Y/N),” he reaches for your hand, “I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” You stop as he holds your hand before he pulls you closer to him. You don’t dare look at him, your eyes avoiding any sort of contact with his. You’ve made it this far. Don’t crack now. 

A whisper of a laugh escapes your lips, “You’re funny if you think you’re getting another chance to make it up.” Your body is screaming to wriggle out of his soft hold and walk away, but you remain there. And you mentally cursed yourself for it. 

Peter’s searching for your eyes, the eyes he loved. He remembers how quickly your eyes switched from soft to fierce, and he loves that about you. You could never hide your true feelings from your eyes, they seemed to give you away every single time. “Cmon bug,” he places two fingers under your chin, revealing your irritated expression, “that’s not true, and you know it.”

You sharply move your chin from his touch, rolling your eyes in the process, “Fuck you.” 

He wraps an arm around the back of your neck, effectively pulling you into his chest, and planting a kiss to the crown of your head. “I wasn’t saying all that to make you feel better by the way,” he mutters into your scalp, “I will make it up to you.”

Tilting your head up and away from his shirt, you look up at him. You still have an obvious pout on your face, “You promise?”

Peter laughs and leans down to place a kiss on your lips. He pulls you in tight as he deepens the kiss. Pulling away he looks at your lips and then up to your eyes, “I promise, bug. I can even start tonight.” 

“Well then we better hurry home,” you smirk. 

Peter reaches into his back pocket, pulling out his car keys. That stupid boyish smile on his face, reaching his eyes.

✰ author's note: HI YALLL!!! you guys can't get enough of hockey peter and i understand (what did i create). ALSO MERRY CHRISTMAS FOR THOSE WHO CELEBRATE!!! and happy holidays for those that don't!!! extending all my love to everyone this holiday season!! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed!! send in more requests and asks if you would like :) till next time, byeeee.

[xmads-omensx]

Part 1

Word Count: 2,228

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Reader

Content Warnings: fake dating, mild harassment, swearing

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lacy1986 @collidewiththesav @kenjipepsi1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @chey-h @amelia-acero

“So I’m guessing that’s a no on the boyfriend front?” My new boss, Stephen Williams, asked.

God, what a creep.

I had been having issues with his complete obliviousness to any form of personal boundaries since he replaced my old boss three weeks ago.

He refused to acknowledge that my private life was something that I liked to keep… well… private.

“I already told you that I don’t see how this correlates to my work?” I sighed.

“As I said earlier, I like to make sure that my employees don’t have any distractions that might draw their attention away from work.” Mr. Williams explained, still leaning too close to me for my liking.

“And as I said earlier, It’s against policy for you to ask such personal questions.” I replied with a slight edge to my voice.

“Come on, Y/N, tell me something about who you are outside of work.” Mr. Williams leaned impossibly closer, making me lean back, to which he gave a slightly frustrated expression.

“No.” I stood firm on my decision to not divulge any information to him.

His assistant, Wendy, knocked on the door, signalling his next meeting was here. Thank God. You could have cut the tension in that room with a knife.

Stephen was a middle aged, balding man who just loved to remind me that he was divorced and ready to get back out there, as he had put it several times.

He was the definition of a misogynistic boss who loved to control his employees.  

“Saved by the bell.” Stephen laughed, making my skin crawl.

I simply smiled at him and got up to leave. I could feel his eyes on my ass as I left his office.

Returning to my desk, I checked my notifications on my phone, seeing that I had a new snap from Noah, one of my good friends. He had been updating me on his band’s tour.

I opened the snap, which revealed a photo of Folio shoving a large slice of pizza into his mouth. It made me laugh, which was usual for Folio.

I hurriedly typed out a message to Noah, ranting about Stephen’s behaviour in our earlier meeting.

He always listened to me when I ranted about the inappropriate behaviour directed towards me at work. I was supposed to be safe from that in the office, but that hadn’t been the case since Stephen started working here.

Ashley, my coworker, had expressed distaste towards the balding man, but never explicitly said she had similar interactions with our boss, so I never mentioned it to her. Simply because I didn’t want to start any drama at work.

My phone vibrated, indicating a reply from Noah.

‘He’s such a creep’ the text read. I replied with a simple ‘yup’ before telling him that I would fill him in on what happened when I got home that evening.

Noah and I met years ago at a mutual friends birthday party.

Michael and I had been friends since I moved to LA seven years ago to work as a band promoter. I didn’t last long doing that since it was so unpredictable, but Michael rapidly became a very close and very good friend.

At his birthday party six years ago, I was introduced to his friends in ERRA and Bad Omens. Noah and I hit it off almost immediately. We both loved anime, reading and terrorising Michael, so we quickly became joined at the hip.

It was nice having  friends like Noah and Michael so soon after moving to LA, since I was terrified of the new start.

Loud, booming footsteps shook me out of my thoughts as Stephen marched his way through the office. He shot me a vile wink as he passed my desk, squeezing my arm as he passed.

His behaviour sickened me right to my core. He had no business acting like that in the workplace, especially not so soon after getting the job here.

Since he was my boss, I had accepted the fact that there was nothing that I could do to prevent this behaviour, or even dream about putting a stop to it.

It sucked, but it was reality.

At the end of the day, I got my work done, and I got it done well.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ashley roll her eyes as Stephen passed. Thank God someone agreed with me.

“Such a creep.” Gabi leant over and said in a hushed voice from her desk.

I simply nodded my head, not wanting to speak in case I let all of my frustrations out a little too much in from of Mr. Williams himself.

The clock on my desk read 5:02pm, which meant I had finished my shift. Excellent.

I grabbed my black suit jacket and black bag that had a Bad Omens reaper keychain hanging off of it, curtesy of Davis at last year’s secret Santa who panicked and just made me Bad Omens merch, and walked towards the lift at the end of the room.

My black kitten heels clicked off of the floor as I neared my escape from this hell hole.

“Y/N!” A voice called out. Shit. It was Stephen.

“Yes.” I said with a sigh, trying to remain professional, but I was sure he noticed me faltering as I turned back around.

“Do you need a ride home?” He asked.

“No.” I replied bluntly, not wanting to give him the room to say much else.

“Let me drive you.” Mr. Williams said with a sickeningly sleazy grin. Over his shoulder I could see both Gabi and Ashley fake gagging at his actions and it tool everything in my being not to laugh at their response.

I would have done the same in their position.

“No, thank you. I’m really okay.” I replied, trying to remain both polite and professional.

“It’s dark, and I don’t want a woman like you wandering alone in the dark.” He said as if that was the most reasonable concern ever. Ew.

“A woman like me?” I questioned, too taken aback by his statement to filter my words.

“You know…” He began to backpedal. “Single, defenceless, beautiful. I would hate for anything to happen to you.”

I was more worried that something would happen to me if I let him give me a ride home, but I would never tell him that.

“Like I said, I’m okay.” I turned to leave once again when his disgusting hand grabbed my forearm.

The office went quiet.

“Let me take you home, Y/N, I’m not offering, I’m telling you. As your boss I am going to drive you home.” He said, an angrier tone creeping through.

I knew damn well that he wouldn’t offer the same to Ashley or Gabi, or any of the other employees here. The male employees were all treated with respect, whilst us female employees were subjected to his misogynistic outlooks.  

Suddenly, my phone began to ring. Thank God.

Pulling it out of my jacket pocket, I saw that the called ID read ‘Noah’. Even better.

“Who’s that?” Stephen angrily asked. Clearly frustrated by my divided attention.

“It’s my boyfriend.” I said without thinking. In fairness, I panicked. I regretted those words almost immediately after they came out of my mouth.

“You never told me you have a boyfriend.” Mr. Williams exclaimed, clearly livid but trying, and failing, to hide it.

“I didn’t think I needed to.” I said, trying to remove his firm grip from my forearm.

“Why is he calling you?” Stephen asked. Clearly angry and failing even more to disguise it.

Ashley and Gabi moved closer to where we stood by the lift. Gabi had reached her shirt-clad arm out to signal to Logan, one of our more… imposing coworkers, to be on standby should anything happen.

Luckily, it didn’t come to that.

“Well, I presume to ask if I’m on my way down. I was supposed to have left… six minutes ago.” I replied, checking the time on my phone.

Noah did in fact pick me up from work most days, but this time was the only day I was actually excited to see him.

Stephen released his grip on my arm, I rushed into the lift.

I waved a goodbye to Ashley, Gabi and Logan before heading to the ground floor, which they returned before retreating to their desks and grabbing the rest of their belongings.

As soon as the lift doors slid closed, I released a sigh that I hadn’t realised I was holding.

The lift doors reopened to reveal the open plan lobby.

It was mostly white décor. It had a gorgeous marble floor that made my kitten heels make the most brilliant click clack sound as I walked. The ceiling was high with a large chandelier hanging down in the centre of it. It was by far the most beautiful place I had ever worked in. Noah and the others often joked that my building looked like it was owned by the mafia since they weren’t allowed up to any of the higher floors as there was sensitive information regarding companies on the other floors.

Through the large glass windows at the front of the building, I could see Noah’s large, black truck parked in his usual space.

When I began working there, I was given my own parking space, but I don’t drive so Noah was allowed to park there instead as long as the company had his registration plate registered as mine, which it was luckily.

Without Noah, there was no way I would be able to get to and from work, especially not today with my borderline insane boss trying to take me home himself.

Who was I kidding, he was probably going to take me to some evil lair and hold me hostage.

I like the image of Stephen Williams being some evil James Bond villain, simply so that he was less intimidating to me if I associated him with cliches.

However, the lift doors of the second lift opening behind me, filled me with unease, which only worsened when I turned around and saw Stephen standing behind me.

“I already told you I have a ride home.” I said, still trying to be polite even though my patience was wearing increasingly thinner and thinner.

“I know, I know.” Stephen began, raising his hands up in surrender. “I just want to meet him.”

“No, you can’t we’re in a rush.” I said.

“A rush? A rush for what?” He asked, seeming suspicious.

“We have plans.” I replied.

“What plans?” He asked.

“I’m not too sure that’s any of your business.” I responded, turning to walk away. His loud footsteps following after me.

I sped up, but so did he.

The glass automatic doors opened, and I could see Noah step out of the driver side.

He always hugged me after work because it made me feel better, and I had never been more grateful for one of those hugs until this moment.

He began to round his truck, and I practically launched myself at his large, tattooed body. He brought his strong arms down and enveloped me in a tight hug.

We pulled back from the hug, but I kept my arms looped around his waist.

“Do you trust me?” I asked quickly.

Noah looked at me, confused.

“Do you trust me?” I asked again, more urgent this time.

He simply nodded. “Of course I do.”

That’s when I did something that I would probably regret for the rest of my days.

I grabbed the strings on the Bad Omens hoodie that he was wearing and pulled him into a kiss.

Stephen’s incoming footsteps halted as I kissed my best friend.

What the fuck was I doing?

Noah then kissed me back, probably realising what was happening.

When we pulled away from the kiss, I could see some confusion remaining in Noah’s beautiful brown eyes.

“This is my boyfriend, Noah.” I said to Stephen who stood in the middle of the car park with a stunned look on his face.

I was hoping and praying that Noah would realise what was happening and just go along with it.

He did, and I let out a relieved sigh, as he put his arm around my shoulder, placing a loving kiss on the top of my head.

“As much as I would love to stay and chat, but Y/N and I have plans, don’t we honey?” Noah spoke up.

I smiled up at him before climbing into the passenger seat.

Noah climbed into the drivers side, silence filling the car.

“So.” Noah began.

“So.” I replied.

Another pause.

“Am I pretending to be your boyfriend now?” He asked, still confused.

“If you don’t mind.” I replied. “It won’t be for long. Just enough to get Stephen to leave me alone.”

“Of course.” He said with a quiet laugh. “You know I’m always here for you.”

I smiled back at him.

Still, a part of me worried if I had taken it too far by throwing Noah into the deep end like this, but I didn’t exactly have much of a choice.

Noah didn’t seem too phased by the idea, but I was still nervous.

What if this crashed and burned?

What if I had ruined everything?

I guess time would only tell.

[niallerspayno]

Black and White - Part 2

Masterlist

As One Direction’s hair and makeup artist, you’ve always had a flirty friendship with Niall. But one wild night in Las Vegas changes everything when you wake up married—and management insists you stay that way. Will you keep hiding your feelings, or finally admit there’s more than friendship between you?

Tags: Niall x reader, friends to lovers, forced proximity, fluff, kinda slow burn

Part 1 | Part 3 - coming soon

You wake up slowly, your head still fuzzy from sleep—and maybe the lingering effects of last night’s drinks. The first thing you notice is warmth, the kind that makes you want to burrow deeper into it and never leave.

And then you realize the warmth is coming from Niall.

Your eyes snap open, and sure enough, there he is, his face mere inches from yours, his arm draped snugly over your waist. Your legs are tangled together, and his hand—his hand is resting on your hip.

Your breath hitches as you try to make sense of the situation. You promised—promised—last night that you’d both stick to your own sides of the bed.

Clearly, that didn’t last long.

You’re just about to wiggle out from under his arm when he stirs, pulling you a fraction closer.

“Mm,” he mumbles, his voice deep and gravelly with sleep. His lips brush lightly against your hair as he murmurs, “Mornin’, love.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you freeze, unsure what to do. This is...way too cozy.

“Uh...morning,” you manage, your voice embarrassingly weak.

“Sleep alright?” he asks, his arm tightening just a little, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You try to keep your voice steady as you respond. “I—uh, yeah. You?”

“Best I’ve slept in years,” he replies, his voice still heavy with sleep.

You groan internally. Of course he’d say that.

“Niall,” you hiss, keeping your voice low so as not to wake the entire floor. “We talked about this. We said we’d stay on our own sides!”

He cracks one eye open, giving you a lazy grin. “Yeah, but your side looked lonely. What was I supposed to do?”

“Not break the rules we literally set last night,” you say, trying—and failing—to wriggle out of his hold.

“Rules, shmules,” he says with a yawn, resting his chin against the top of your head. “C’mon, admit it. You were just as comfy as I was.”

You open your mouth to argue, but before you can say anything, there’s a sudden knock on the door.

Before you can react, the door swings open, and in strides Louis.

“Oi, you two,” he says without looking up, “Breakfast downstairs—” He stops mid-sentence, his eyes locking on the two of you tangled up in the bed.

His face splits into a wide grin, “Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

You and Niall spring apart so fast you nearly tumble off the bed, and Louis cackles, leaning against the doorframe.

“I knew it!” he crows, his voice practically echoing in the room. “You lot couldn’t even make it 24 hours without—”

“Louis, shut up,” you snap, your face burning.

“What? I’m just saying,” he says, holding his hands up innocently, though his grin betrays him. “This fake marriage thing might not be so fake after all.”

“It’s not what it looks like,” Niall says, though his easy tone makes it clear he’s not bothered in the slightest.

“Right,” Louis says, smirking as he backs toward the door. “Anyway, breakfast downstairs in fifteen, so maybe get yourselves...untangled by then.” He winks at you both before closing the door behind him.

You bury your face in your hands with a groan. “I can’t believe this.”

“What’s there to believe?” Niall says, his grin audible in his voice. “We were just cuddling. Happens all the time, right?”

You glare at him, but your heart betrays you with its rapid thudding.

“No,” you mutter. “This doesn’t happen. Ever.”

“Well,” he says with a shrug, standing up and stretching, “maybe it should.”

You groan again, standing and grabbing your things. “I’m taking the first shower. Don’t follow me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, though the smirk on his face suggests otherwise.

As you close the bathroom door behind you, you lean against it, exhaling sharply.

The warmth of his arm around you lingers, and you hate how much you liked it.

…

You walk into the hotel dining room, doing your best to appear composed despite the lingering embarrassment from that morning. The air is thick with the smell of coffee and pancakes, but the low buzz of conversation stills the moment you and Niall step through the door.

“Oh, look who decided to grace us with their presence,” Louis announces loudly, his grin already reaching his ears.

You glance at Niall, who just shrugs, as if to say, Might as well get it over with.

“You know, you didn’t have to rush out of bed,” Harry quips, eyes glinting mischievously.

“Bet it was cozy,” Liam adds, smirking into his mug.

Lottie sits next to Louis, her chin propped in her hand as she studies the two of you. “Good morning, newlyweds. Sleep well?”

You groan and drop into a seat across from her, grabbing the nearest cup of coffee to hide your burning cheeks. “Can we not?”

“Nope,” Louis says, leaning forward with a gleeful smile. “You’re officially the most entertaining part of this tour.”

“Is that why you barged into our room this morning?” Niall retorts, his tone sharp but playful. “Couldn’t wait to see what trouble you could stir up?”

“You were cuddling,” Louis says simply, as if it’s the most obvious justification in the world.

“We were not—”

“You were,” Niall cuts in, his voice steady but teasing. “And it wasn’t bad, was it?”

You whip your head toward him, your heart skipping a beat. “Don’t start,” you mutter, but the way his smirk deepens tells you he already knows he’s won.

“Alright, alright,” Harry says, raising a hand as if to settle things. “Let’s move on to the important stuff—like figuring out how you’re both going to survive this circus you’ve created.”

“We didn’t create it,” you argue, shooting him a glare.

“True,” Lottie says with a laugh. “But you’re living it now. How’s that going for you?”

Before you can answer, the table erupts in laughter, leaving you wondering how you’re going to get through breakfast without losing your mind—or your carefully constructed walls.

Zayn slides into the seat next to Lottie, his eyes darting between you and Niall with an unreadable expression. “You two are impossible,” he mutters, barely looking up from his phone.

“Tell me about it,” Louis says, winking at you. “Can’t even pretend anymore.”

You shoot him a warning glare, but it only makes him laugh harder.

“You two were practically glued together last night at the concert,” Liam adds, his voice teasing but with a softness you didn’t expect. “Didn’t help that everyone could see it.”

Niall shrugs, unconcerned. “So? It’s not like we’ve got anything to hide, right?” His eyes flick to you for a second, warm with that familiar playfulness, but there’s something else there too—a quiet confidence you can’t ignore.

You force a smile, feeling the walls you’ve spent so long building up start to crumble. “Sure. No big deal,” you mumble, hoping they can’t see right through you.

“Don’t pretend like it’s no big deal,” Harry says, his voice a little too knowing. “You two have been dancing around each other for ages. It’s only a matter of time before you admit what we’ve all known.”

You roll your eyes, trying to brush it off. “You don’t know anything.”

“Actually,” Zayn cuts in, still focused on his phone, “we do. But it’s not like you’ll admit it anytime soon.”

“Exactly,” Lottie says, glancing between you and Niall. “We’ve all been waiting for you two to finally figure it out. And now... well, here we are.”

The silence that follows is thick, as if everyone is waiting for you to crack, to admit something you’ve been trying so hard to hide. You can feel Niall’s gaze on you, steady and warm, but you keep your eyes down, focusing on your coffee cup like it’s the most important thing in the world.

“We’ve got a lot to sort out,” you murmur, hoping to deflect. “And breakfast is definitely not the time for that.”

Niall leans back in his chair, his easy grin never faltering. “You’re right. But we’ll get there, won’t we?” His voice is light, teasing, but the weight of his words lingers longer than you’d like.

You swallow hard, wondering just how much longer you can keep pretending everything’s fine.

Louis, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, nudges you with his elbow. “You know, if it were anyone else, I’d say they’re pretty much together already.”

Zayn smirks. “But it’s you two. So, we’re all just sitting here waiting for the inevitable.”

You want to protest, want to say that they’re wrong, but the truth is, you’re not sure anymore.

Niall’s hand brushes yours across the table, just for a second, but it’s enough to send your heart racing. He doesn’t pull away. In fact, he seems more at ease than ever, while you’re doing everything you can to keep your feelings buried.

“See? That’s progress,” Harry says, watching you both closely.

“Yeah, it’s called being married,” you snap, unable to hide your frustration any longer.

That only makes the table laugh harder. “Don’t worry, mate,” Zayn says to Niall, his grin wide. “We’re all just waiting for the real fireworks.”

You wish you could be as confident as Niall. Instead, you find yourself wondering how much longer you can keep pretending that nothing has changed.

...

The day passes in a blur of busy schedules, rehearsals, and travel. You’ve been doing your best to avoid Niall, keeping your focus strictly on work, but it’s not easy. Not when every glance in his direction feels like a magnet pulling you closer.

By the time you’re setting up for the band’s evening talk show interview, your nerves are frayed. You’ve spent the entire day dodging his gaze, pretending not to notice the way he casually lingers in your periphery or the soft smiles he’s thrown your way when he thinks no one’s watching.

Now, with Niall seated in the makeup chair in front of you, there’s nowhere to hide.

“Finally,” he says, grinning up at you. His tone is teasing, but there’s a warmth in his eyes that makes it impossible to brush him off. “Thought you were avoiding me all day.”

You force a light laugh, your fingers busying themselves with the brushes and tools laid out on the counter. “Just busy. You know how it is.”

“Sure,” he says, but the disbelief is clear in his tone. He doesn’t push, though, which almost makes it worse.

As you step closer to him, raising your hand to comb through his hair, you catch the way he’s watching you—soft, steady, and completely unguarded. It sends a shiver down your spine, and you quickly look away, focusing instead on getting his hair camera-ready.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

“Trying to concentrate,” you reply, not meeting his eyes.

“On me?” he teases, and the smirk in his tone makes your heart skip a beat.

“On your hair,” you correct, though the quiver in your voice betrays you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him reach for his phone, holding it up in a quick movement. Before you can protest, you hear the snap of a photo.

“Niall!” you scold, reaching for his phone, but he pulls it away, laughing.

“Relax,” he says, tapping at the screen. “Just keeping up appearances, yeah?”

You groan, your face heating as you imagine how disheveled you must look. “I probably look terrible.”

“Nope,” he says, still focused on his phone. “You look beautiful.”

You freeze for a moment, your heart thudding loudly in your chest. It’s not the first time he’s said something like that, but tonight it feels different.

“Stop messing around,” you mutter, trying to shake off the way his words make you feel.

“I’m not messing,” he says simply, his gaze locking with yours. “You’re beautiful.”

You don’t know how to respond, so you do the only thing you can—focus on finishing his hair. Stepping in front of him, you smooth out the strands with quick, practiced movements, desperate to keep your hands from shaking.

But then his hands find your waist.

Before you can react, he pulls you down into his lap, his grip firm yet gentle.

“Niall!” you gasp, your balance thrown off as you clutch at his shoulders for support.

“Relax,” he says again, his voice soft and amused. “You’re way too tense.”

“I can’t—I need to finish—”

“You’re done,” he interrupts, his eyes searching yours. “And you need to stop running.”

You’re not sure if he means running from him or running from how you feel, but either way, you can’t deny the truth in his words.

“You’re impossible,” you whisper, your resolve cracking under the weight of his gaze.

“And you’re stubborn,” he counters, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But I like that about you.”

The moment stretches between you, the air thick with something unspoken. You know you should stand up, brush it off like you always do, but for the first time, you’re not sure you want to.

You’re hyperaware of everything—the solid warmth of his thighs beneath you, the gentle but insistent grip of his hands on your waist, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the lingering trace of hairspray. Your fingers, still resting on his shoulders for balance, flex unconsciously against the soft cotton of his shirt.

The air feels thicker now, weighted with unspoken words and simmering tension. His eyes lock onto yours, searching, daring, waiting.

“Niall,” you start, but your voice falters, too quiet and too unsure.

His grip on your waist tightens just slightly, grounding you. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady. “Just... don’t overthink for once.”

Your breath catches as he leans in, his forehead nearly brushing yours. His eyes flick down to your lips, then back up again, and you feel the magnetic pull drawing you closer. It’s dizzying, intoxicating.

Your heart pounds so loudly in your chest that you’re sure he can hear it. Every nerve in your body is screaming at you to close the distance, to finally give in to the years of longing you’ve kept buried beneath layers of denial.

He doesn’t move further, though. He’s waiting—for you.

The realization sends a jolt through you, a mix of exhilaration and fear. You want this. You’ve always wanted this. But crossing that line feels like stepping off the edge of a cliff, and you’re not sure you’re ready for the fall.

Your lips part, your breath mingling with his, and for a split second, nothing else in the world exists but him.

“Niall!”

The sudden voice from the doorway shatters the moment like glass. You jolt back instinctively, your cheeks burning as you twist to see Louis leaning against the frame, arms crossed and a knowing smirk on his face.

“Interview’s starting, mate,” Louis says, his tone casual but his grin unmistakably teasing. “Unless you’re planning to skip it for… other priorities.”

“Coming,” Niall replies, his voice slightly hoarse. His hands slip from your waist, but the warmth of his touch lingers like a brand.

Louis raises an eyebrow, his smirk deepening as he glances between the two of you. “Right,” he says, dragging out the word. “Don’t take too long, lovebirds.”

You scramble to your feet, your face flaming as Louis retreats down the hall, his laughter echoing behind him.

When you glance back at Niall, he’s watching you with a mix of amusement and something softer, something that makes your chest ache.

“We should—”

“Yeah,” you cut him off, grabbing a comb from the counter and busying yourself with tidying up. Anything to avoid the weight of his gaze.

“Hey,” he says softly, and when you look up, his expression is open, earnest. “We’ll finish this later.”

Your throat tightens, but you manage a small nod. He stands, his hand brushing lightly against your arm as he passes, and the simple touch sends a spark racing through you.

As the door clicks shut behind him, you exhale shakily, your fingers gripping the counter for support. You don’t know what “later” will bring, but for the first time, the idea of falling feels a little less terrifying.

...

You’re standing off to the side of the bustling studio, arms crossed tightly over your chest. The makeup station behind you feels like a safe barrier between you and the whirlwind of cameras, producers, and bright lights. Across the room, the boys are settling onto the sleek leather couch under the glaring stage lights, grinning and joking as the host greets them warmly.

Niall catches your eye. Even from this distance, his gaze feels like a tether, pulling your focus no matter how much you try to avoid it. He gives you a quick wink, his easy charm on full display, and it’s enough to make your heart stutter.

The interview begins with the usual playful banter—questions about the tour, favorite moments on stage, and funny stories from the road. The boys are in their element, bouncing off each other’s energy and keeping the audience laughing.

Then the host leans in, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Now, boys, we have to talk about the latest buzz. Niall, you’ve been quite the topic of conversation this week. Care to share what’s going on?”

Your stomach twists as Niall’s name draws a wave of cheers and laughter from the audience. The cameras zoom in on him, and he flashes a cheeky smile that’s both endearing and infuriating.

“Oh, you mean the marriage thing?” he says, his tone casual, but there’s a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

The room erupts in gasps and laughter, and the host’s jaw drops in exaggerated surprise. “So it’s true? You got married in Vegas?”

“Well,” Niall says, leaning back and rubbing the back of his neck, “things happen when you’re having fun, don’t they?”

The audience roars, and you feel like you might sink through the floor. Your hands clench into fists at your sides as Harry, ever the instigator, chimes in.

“To be fair,” Harry says with a grin, “it’s not every day you see Niall that brave.”

“Or that drunk,” adds Louis, earning another wave of laughter.

“And your mystery bride?” the host presses, her curiosity genuine. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

Niall hesitates for a fraction of a second, his eyes flicking to where you’re standing. “Let’s just say,” he begins, his voice light but steady, “she’s amazing. Beautiful, talented, and someone who puts up with me better than anyone else could.”

The host melts at his words, clasping her hands dramatically. “That’s so sweet! You must really care about her.”

“Absolutely,” Niall says without missing a beat. The sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, and you find yourself holding your breath.

Liam, ever the voice of reason, steers the conversation back to the tour, defusing the tension with a comment about their next city. As the interview wraps up, the boys thank the audience and head off stage, their energy high as they make their way back toward you.

Niall is the last to approach, his smile easy as always, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes when he stops in front of you.

“So?” he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. “How’d I do?”

You want to be annoyed, to scold him for being so casual about the whole thing. But the way he’s looking at you—hopeful and just a little nervous—makes it impossible.

“You didn’t embarrass me as much as I thought you would,” you say, your voice softer than you intended.

His grin widens. “That’s a win, then.”

Before you can respond, Harry sidles up beside Niall, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Good show, Mr. Husband,” he teases, winking at you. “The two of you are going to have to step it up, though. The world’s watching now.”

Your cheeks burn as you watch Harry stroll away, and when you glance back at Niall, he’s already watching you.

“Guess we’d better figure out what we’re doing, huh?” he says, his voice quieter now, the playful edge gone.

You nod, your throat tight. “Yeah. We should.”

...

The soft hum of the elevator fills the silence as you and Niall ascend to your floor. His hands are stuffed into his hoodie pockets, his hair still slightly tousled from the interview, though you’d carefully styled it hours earlier. You can still feel the ghost of his fingertips brushing your wrist as he snapped that photo of you, and the way his gaze lingered on you in the dressing room keeps playing on a loop in your mind.

You shift uncomfortably, the tension between you feeling sharper now after nearly kissing him. Neither of you has addressed it, but the weight of it presses down on the quiet space between you.

When the elevator dings, you step out first, desperate to get to the shared room even though the thought of spending another night in close quarters with him makes your heart race.

At the door, you fumble with the key card, but before you can swipe it, Niall’s hand comes to rest gently on your shoulder. “Hey.”

The softness in his voice makes you freeze. You glance back at him, your heart thudding in your chest. “What?”

“You’ve been quiet all night,” he says, his brows furrowing slightly. “What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”

“I’m just tired,” you mutter, brushing him off as you finally get the door open and step inside.

He follows you in, closing the door behind him, but instead of giving you space, he lingers. You drop your bag on the armchair, hoping he’ll let it go, but his voice cuts through the quiet.

“Is this about earlier?”

You stiffen, your back to him. “What do you mean?”

“In the dressing room,” he says simply. “When we almost…” He trails off, but the unfinished sentence hangs heavily in the air.

You spin around, arms crossed over your chest. “Nothing happened.”

“Exactly,” he counters, stepping closer. “Why not?”

“Niall…” You sigh, rubbing a hand over your face. “Can we not do this tonight? It’s been a long day.”

He ignores your plea, his blue eyes locked on yours. “You’re avoiding it. And me.”

“I’m not avoiding—”

“Yes, you are,” he says firmly, cutting you off. “You’ve been dodgin’ me all day. You barely looked at me during the interview, you wouldn’t sit next to me in the car, and now you’re actin’ like this.”

You let out a frustrated breath, dropping onto the edge of the bed. “What do you want me to say, Niall?”

“The truth,” he says, moving to stand in front of you. “Why are you running?”

You look down at your hands, your fingers twisting in your lap. “I’m not running.”

“Yes, you are,” he insists, crouching down so he’s at eye level with you. “Talk to me. Please.”

You bite your lip, debating whether to brush him off again, but the look in his eyes—earnest, patient, and so undeniably Niall—makes it impossible.

“I’m scared, okay?” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Scared of what?”

You gesture between the two of you, frustration bubbling to the surface. “This. Us. What if we ruin everything?”

Niall’s shoulders sag slightly, his expression softening. “You think we’d ruin it? After everything?”

You nod, swallowing hard. “We’ve always been good at being… us. And now everything’s different.”

“Different doesn’t have to mean bad,” he says quietly.

You glance up at him, your chest tightening. “And what if it does? What if we mess this up and it’s never the same?”

Niall sighs, running a hand through his hair as he sits back on his heels. “I can’t promise we won’t mess up,” he admits. “But I can promise I’ll never stop tryin’ to fix it if we do.”

Your throat feels tight, the weight of his words sinking in. He’s always been like this—steady, kind, and unwavering.

“Niall…” you start, but he interrupts gently.

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” he says, standing and offering you a hand. “But stop shutting me out. Please.”

Hesitating for only a moment, you take his hand and let him pull you to your feet. The warmth of his palm lingers even after he lets go, and you know you’re walking a fine line.

...

The soft glow of the city lights filters through the curtains, casting faint patterns across the bed. You lie on your side, your back to Niall, gripping the edge of the blanket as if it could shield you from the swirling mess of emotions threatening to spill over.

The bed shifts as he moves, his voice soft in the stillness. “You don’t have to stay on the edge, you know. I’m not gonna bite.”

You glance over your shoulder, catching the faintest smile tugging at his lips. His hair is still slightly mussed from earlier, and the quiet vulnerability in his expression tugs at your heart.

“I’m fine here,” you murmur, but the words feel hollow even to you.

He hesitates, then shifts closer, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. “C’mere,” he whispers, his tone low and soothing.

Your breath catches as his arm lightly brushes yours. For a moment, you hesitate, your walls screaming for you to stay put, to keep the distance. But then you feel the warmth of his hand resting gently on your arm, and something inside you gives way.

Slowly, you roll onto your other side, facing him. His blue eyes search yours, cautious but hopeful, and he lifts his arm in invitation. “Only if you’re okay with it.”

You nod, your throat too tight to speak, and let him pull you closer. The moment his arm settles around your waist, you feel the tension begin to ebb, replaced by a comforting warmth that spreads through your chest.

He pulls you just close enough that your forehead brushes against his shoulder, his scent—a mix of clean soap and something uniquely him—filling the space between you. His thumb moves absentmindedly against your back, tracing slow, soothing circles.

“This okay?” he asks again, his voice barely audible.

You nod against him, your fingers curling lightly into his shirt. “Yeah.”

For a while, neither of you speaks. The steady rhythm of his breathing matches the slow rise and fall of his chest beneath your hand, and you let yourself sink into the moment. His touch is grounding, his presence a balm for the doubts that have been clawing at you.

But even in this closeness, your fears whisper at the edges of your mind. The warmth of his embrace feels too good, too safe, and the thought of losing it terrifies you.

“Thank you,” you whisper, unsure if he even hears it.

“For what?” he murmurs, his voice drowsy but curious.

“For always being you,” you reply, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you can’t bring yourself to say.

He hums softly, a sound of quiet contentment, and you feel the slight press of his lips against your hair. “Always.”

It doesn’t take long for his breathing to slow, the tension leaving his body as he drifts off to sleep. His arm remains firmly around you, holding you as if he’d never let go.

He shifts slightly, nuzzling closer in his sleep, and the movement sends a pang of bittersweet ache through you. You know he’s out, his breathing deep and even, but it feels like he could wake at any moment, like you shouldn’t risk it.

But the words are there, teetering on the edge of your tongue, demanding to be spoken into the quiet.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper so faintly you can barely hear it yourself. The lump in your throat threatens to choke you, but you push on. “I’m sorry for running. For being such a coward.”

You wait, but he doesn’t stir, only tightening his hold around your waist slightly, as if his subconscious could sense your turmoil.

Your breath shakes as you exhale, eyes burning with tears you refuse to shed. “I’ve been in love with you for so long, Niall. Too long. And it’s terrifying.”

The words spill out, unrestrained, carried by the weight of everything you’ve held back. “You’re everything to me. You always have been. And that’s the problem, isn’t it? You’re kind, and talented, and brilliant. And me? I’m just…” You pause, choking on the thought. “I’m just a makeup artist. Just the girl who hides behind brushes and combs while you light up the world.”

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, the familiar texture grounding you even as your voice wavers. “You deserve someone who’s extraordinary. Someone who doesn’t hold you back, who fits into your world without hesitation. And I—” Your breath catches, and you close your eyes tightly, willing the tears away.

“I’m so scared,” you admit, the words trembling as they escape. “Scared of ruining us. Scared of not being enough for you. Scared that if I let myself have this, if I let myself have you, it’ll all fall apart, and I won’t know how to survive it.”

A tear slips down your cheek, but you don’t wipe it away. You let the confession linger in the stillness, hoping it might ease the ache in your chest, even though you know it won’t.

“And I know you’d never say it,” you continue, your voice barely audible now. “But part of me keeps thinking you’re only doing this because of the marriage, because you have to, not because you want to.”

The thought makes your chest tighten unbearably, and you let out a shaky breath. “I don’t want to lose you, Niall. Not as my friend. Not as… anything. But I don’t know how to do this.”

For a moment, you’re met with silence, the kind that feels both comforting and crushing. His breathing stays steady, his arm still wrapped securely around you, and you convince yourself that he’s fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the weight you’ve just spilled into the darkness.

You glance at him, his features softened in the dim light, and a small, bittersweet smile tugs at your lips. “I love you,” you whisper one last time, letting the words fall into the space between you like a secret never meant to be heard.

As your eyes close and sleep begins to pull you under, you tell yourself that maybe this moment is enough. Maybe it’s okay to love him in the quiet, to let yourself have this fragile, fleeting sense of peace—even if he never knows.

...

The morning sunlight seeps through the thin curtains, bathing the room in a soft, golden glow. You stir beneath the duvet, slowly becoming aware of the warm weight of Niall’s arm draped over your waist. His steady, even breaths caress the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. For a fleeting moment, you let yourself melt into the comfort of his presence, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest pressing gently against your back.

But then reality crashes in, and your stomach twists. What if he heard you?

You carefully shift, trying to slide out from under his arm, but the movement stirs him. His arm tightens instinctively around you, pulling you closer.

“You’re not sneaky, y’know,” his voice rasps, still heavy with sleep, a teasing lilt to it.

Your breath catches, your entire body freezing. “What?”

He shifts slightly, propping himself up on one elbow. His tousled hair is sticking up in every direction, and his blue eyes, though bleary, are far too focused on you. “I heard you last night,” he murmurs, his voice soft but sure.

Your heart stops. “You—what?”

“I wasn’t asleep,” he says simply, his lips curving into a small smile.

Panic flares in your chest as you sit up abruptly, clutching the duvet tightly around yourself like it’s a shield. “You… you misheard. I was rambling. Half-asleep—didn’t know what I was saying.”

Niall lets out a soft chuckle, sitting up as well. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” you insist, your voice sharp with nerves.

He leans closer, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight, and the proximity makes it impossible to breathe. “You sure about that?”

Your cheeks burn as you scramble to look anywhere but at him. “Can we just… not do this?”

“No,” he says firmly, though his tone is still gentle. “We’re not brushing this under the rug, not this time.”

“Niall—”

“Why?” he interrupts, his voice low but steady. “Why do you think you’re not good enough? For me?”

The question feels like a punch to the gut. You shake your head, biting your lip. “Because look at you!” you burst out, your words spilling over in a rush. “You’re—you’re Niall Horan. People scream your name. You’re famous. You could have anyone. And I’m just—”

“Don’t,” he says, cutting you off sharply, his voice firm enough to make you stop mid-sentence.

His eyes are burning with an intensity that makes your throat tighten.

“You’re not ‘just’ anything,” he says, his voice softening as he moves closer. The warmth of his hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that’s escaped down your skin. “You’re the smartest, kindest, most talented person I know. You’re the one person I need with me, no matter what.”

Your chest tightens, the weight of his words overwhelming. “Niall, you don’t understand—”

“Stop,” he says quietly. “I understand more than you think.”

“I’m scared,” you whisper, your voice trembling as the words claw their way out of you. “Of messing this up. Of losing you.”

“You’re not gonna lose me,” he murmurs, leaning closer. His breath is warm against your skin, and the hand cradling your cheek moves to the back of your neck. “But I need you to stop talking, just for a second.”

Before you can respond, his lips are on yours, soft and searching.

The kiss steals the breath from your lungs, and for a moment, the world tilts on its axis. His hand slides into your hair, holding you gently but firmly, and every nerve ending in your body sparks to life. You can taste the faintest hint of mint on his lips, feel the heat radiating off him, and the way he pulls you closer like you’re the only thing tethering him to earth.

For a fleeting moment, you forget your fears.

But then they come crashing back.

You pull away, your heart pounding as you put a hand on his chest to create distance. “Niall, I—”

He searches your face, his brow furrowing as if he can see the storm brewing behind your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I just…” You shake your head, the words tangling in your throat. “I need time.”

His hand drops slowly from your hair, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, he nods, his voice soft. “Okay. I’ll wait. As long as you need.”

Your chest aches at the tenderness in his tone, but all you can manage is a nod before you turn away, trying to calm the whirlwind inside you.

…

Part 3 - coming soon

[brodygold]

A Golden Christmas Carol- Part One

A collaborative story among Golden Army management for @goldenherc9! Hope you like it bro! We really appreciate everything you do and wanted to show you in the way we know how.

Captain Scott sat in the shared office, hunched over a stack of documents that demanded his attention before the holiday break. The glow of his desk lamp highlighted the dark circles under his eyes, a stark contrast to the sharp black polo he wore—a symbol of his role in his beloved team.

But lately, Scott felt anything but proud.

It was the holiday season. He had achieved his dream promotion. And he had Logan, the best twin and teammate anyone could ask for. On paper, everything was perfect. Yet, a heavy weight settled on his chest, one that no amount of holiday cheer or team camaraderie could lift.

"Hey, are you doing alright, bro?"

Scott looked up, startled by the familiar voice. Brody stood in the doorway, his expression a mix of concern and brotherly determination.

"It's nothin', brah. Don’t worry about me. I’ll get over it eventually..." Scott mumbled, his gaze drifting back to the papers.

"It’s not nothing, Scott. I know I’ve been busy lately getting everything ready for Christmas, but you can always talk to me."

Scott sighed deeply, leaning back in his chair. "I know, broski. It’s just... I dunno how to contribute to the team. It feels like I’m just filling the role without actually being the captain. You, Percival, and everyone else make the big decisions, and I’m just tryna keep up. I’m supposed to be Drone Cap 009, but I can’t even—”

Brody cut him off, stepping closer and placing a firm hand on Scott’s shoulder. "Hey, we need you, bro. The team wouldn’t be the same without you. You bring a balance, a perspective none of us have. And we all respect you for it, even if you don’t see it."

Scott gave a half-hearted shrug. "You say that, but it don’t feel like it. Anyway, I gotta go."

Brody frowned but didn’t push further. "Will you at least come to the Christmas party tomorrow? It wouldn’t be the same without you."

Scott hesitated, his eyes darting to the pile of papers on his desk. "I’ll think about it, brah. No promises." He stood, the soft light reflecting off his black polo as he gathered his things and headed out.

When Scott arrived at his small apartment, the familiar silence greeted him. He folded his polo carefully and tucked it away in a drawer, going through the motions of his nightly routine with a heavy heart. Each action felt robotic, void of the joy or purpose he used to feel.

Maybe it was time to leave the team. The thought hung in the air like an unspoken truth, and he couldn’t shake it.

As he climbed into bed, the weight of his doubts pressed down harder. He closed his eyes, willing himself to drift into sleep.

But the world had other plans for Captain Scott.

[kirby0strombolli]

★彡[ʙᴇɴ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴇᴇᴋ - ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ]彡★

(p1)

Summary: Ben is in love with his best friend's sister. But he can't be with her like that. Word count: Just under 1.3k !! Warnings: Mentions of smoking, Light cursing! Just pure fluff :) A/n: Been wanting to write for Ben for a while! There are barely any Ben of the week fics!!

As she stumbled out of the bar, her laughter flickered like a neon sign.

Her flushed cheeks and lopsided smile lit up when her eyes met mine, as if she’d found what she’d been searching for.

“C’mon, let’s get you home,” I sighed, stepping closer and offering her my arm.

“No, I can’t drive!” she protested, throwing her hands up, only to lose her balance and fall right into my open arms.

I looked down at her, a small smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. Then, with an unimpressed raise of my eyebrow, I said, “I wasn’t asking you to.”

She squinted at me with mock seriousness, her head tilting slightly. “I’m not really drunk. I never get that… fucked up!” Her words tumbled over each other, betraying her claim.

“Uh-huh." I shrugged off my coat and gently draped it over her shoulders, the weight of it drawing a soft hum from her.

“I’m serious! I’m so sober!” she giggled, leaning into me with all the grace of a baby deer. Her head rested on my shoulder for a moment, and I felt her breath hitch before she exhaled softly, content.

Her fingers clutched at the edges of the coat, pulling it tighter around herself. “You’re warm,” she murmured, her voice quieter now, her defenses melting in the cool night air.

♪ I love to see you shine in the night

Like the diamond you are ♪

I subtly glanced down at her, trying to ignore the way her face glowed under the streetlight, soft and perfect, like it was carved just to make me lose my mind.

There she was, wrapped in my coat, her head resting lightly on my shoulder as we walked. Her warmth seeped through the fabric, and I was doing everything I could to ignore the way it made me feel.

Out of nowhere, she stopped and turned toward me. Before I could say anything, her arms wrapped around me, pulling me into a warm, unexpected hug.

I froze, my arms hovering awkwardly at my sides. What was she doing? Did she even know what she was doing?

“Thank you,” she mumbled against my chest, her voice muffled but sincere.

♪ Just hold me in the dark ♪

Slowly, cautiously, I let my arms fold around her, holding her close. It felt right—too right—and that’s what made it so wrong. She wasn’t just anyone; she was his sister. My best friend’s sister.

The unspoken rule had always been clear: stay away from her. She was off-limits, untouchable, someone I wasn’t even supposed to think about like this. But as I held her now, her warmth seeping into me, all I could think was how impossible it was to let go.

♪ No one’s gotta know what we doHit me up when you’re bored ♪

What if we didn’t tell anyone?

What if we didn’t have to?

The thought hit me like a whisper in the back of my mind, quiet but insistent. Memories stirred—ones I’d tried to forget but couldn’t.

The way she’d leaned in close during movie nights, her laughter brushing against my ear, making my pulse race. The late-night talks when everyone else was asleep, her voice soft, her eyes holding something unspoken.

And that time she’d reached out to fix my hair, her fingers grazing my forehead, lingering just a second too long.

I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t want her. She was drunk. But with her in my arms now, it felt like the only thing I’d ever wanted.

Her breath was slow, steady, like she was just as caught in the moment as I was. Then, she pulled away slightly, her eyes wide and innocent, like she had no idea how much she was driving me crazy. 

Her lashes fluttered as she looked up at me, her face glowing softly in the streetlight. She was so damn pretty, the kind of pretty that made my heart pound in my chest and my hands feel shaky.

Her eyes drifted from mine, down to my lips, and I felt the pull of temptation shoot through me. God, I could kiss her right now.

"Ben?" she whispered, her voice soft and almost fragile, as if she knew what was on my mind.

She tilted her head slightly, her lips parting just enough for me to see the faintest hint of a smile.

The moment felt like it was stretching on forever, and I could already feel myself leaning in, my breath hitching. But before I could make the move, a voice broke through the thick air between us.

“Need a ride back, Ben?”

I flinched, my heart pounding even harder. Curtis. My best friend. My fucking roommate.

Her brother.

He stood there, eyebrow raised, a smirk tugging at his lips. His gaze flicked between us, suspicion clear in his eyes. Shit.

That look should have been enough to stop me, to remind me why I couldn’t do this—why he would kill me if he ever found out. But in that moment, it didn’t matter.

I quickly looked back at her, just as she pulled away, her expression unreadable but soft. She didn’t say anything, but I could see the question in her eyes—What now?

Curtis broke the tension with a laugh. “What, you two gonna stand out here all night or are you gonna get in?”

I hesitated, the words caught in my throat. Saying yes would be awkward—he’d definitely notice. But if I said no, I’d be stuck walking back in the freezing cold, alone. I glanced at her one last time, guilt flooding my chest.

She smiled softly, like she understood. It was too dangerous. But damn, I wanted to give in.

I let go of her, the coldness settling in as I turned to Curtis. “Nah, I’m good,” I shrugged, trying to sound casual. “I need to be somewhere.”

Curtis raised an eyebrow but didn’t push it. I turned back to her, giving her a tight smile. “Bye,” I said too quietly, watching her slide into the car. My stomach twisted.

As the car pulled away, I shoved my hands into my pockets and sighed, the cold air stinging my skin. My mind was racing. What just happened?

I couldn’t stop thinking about her—how she felt in my arms, the way she looked at me. Her smile made me feel like I could do anything, even though I knew it was wrong.

Then it started to rain. Hard. Of course, it did. The universe had perfect timing when it came to ruining my mood.

I kicked at the ground, irritated, my feet splashing through puddles as I walked. I couldn’t stop replaying the look she gave me. I should’ve kissed her.

I wanted to kiss her. I couldn’t keep pretending like I didn’t feel this pull towards her, no matter how wrong it felt.

I pulled out a blunt from my jacket, lighting it up without even thinking. Maybe it was a stupid move, but I didn’t care. I needed something to numb the frustration, the confusion. 

The smoke filled my lungs, and for a moment, everything felt hazy. The rain poured harder, but I didn’t care. I kept walking, letting the buzz take over, the cold now just a distant thing.

taglist: @lolastrniolo @sturniololuv08 @chrislilcumslvt @lonleyheartsclub @shadowthesim

(lmk if you wanna be added!)

sneaky part 2 coming up...