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angelesca · 2 days ago

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w.c. 3.4k💀so much words for this crap / sunday x truckdriver!gnreader (dafuqq is this dynamic), small stories, 99% of the penacony cast are impressed by you(they should be), robin is a cutie pie, sunday is a closeted robin fan, you and sunday squabble daily, sunday your wonweek is showing💗, wrote this in the tumblr drafts vro🔥part crack a/n: farted this out bc i got inspired by this otome isekai manhwa i was reading [truck knight taekbae] + aesthetics inspired by [who made me a princess]

darkness monopolised your vision ever since you got here; day time never graced you. the insulated walls do their job well—only the vibrations, the frayed edges of sound, can be heard.

chains grip your wrists, the metal twisting into your skin, wringing it like cloth. ouch. what now? maybe if you fart consecutively, and hard enough, you can blow your way out?

"brother... why…?" vibrations again.

"don’t… monitor… danger."

the iron door creaks. light shines a single ray though the gap, and like the sun, the radiance blinds you. you squint your eyes, tracing the outline of two silhouettes.

the taller one approaches, each stride covering an equal, set amount of distance without a lost beat. "i have one question," their tone dashes against the whetstone, pointing a sharpened blade at you. "who are you?"

their eyes did not welcome any light, no reflection of you in them, as if you were only a whisper of the air. you feel the cracks in your throat. "me? i’m just a truck driver."

you are having tea with sunday.

after the less-than-ideal introductions, the picture cleared: you, a truck driver, are isekai’d into penacony via truck inception(?).

"i apologise for my manners," sunday sips his cup. "when you... suspisciously appeared in my bathroom, unresponding, there was no room to be courteous."

"sorry about that," you play with the rim of your cup awkwardly. "i'm not sure what happened either." the honest truth.

sunday shakes his head. he's majestic. "so, you said that you were…" he taps his chin.

"a truck driver."

"a criminal?"

"... truck driver."

“an assassin?”

"..." you almost turned into one.

little did you know, your lone walk was accompanied by a slithering shadow. except... it was no shadow. it was a dazzling spotlight that had fans and reporters following her repslendent glow, as expected of penacony's halovian songstress: robin.

"you mentioned you were a truck driver," finally, someone knows what a truck driver is. "will you allow me to see it?"

yes, your truck teleported into the dreamscape too. how could you live without them? they sit by a pavement on penacony's streets, hoarding the stares of confused citizens.

you watch an infinite cosmos flare in robin's incandescent eyes. your truck is just that impressive. "wow...! it's so beautiful!"

"what a curious machine," a blue and blonde-haired pair are analysing. "a vehicle that inefficiently operates on wheels? rather old-fashioned."

"what in the ever-lovin' fudge? my great-great-great-great-great gramps had one of those!"

"a sight of blissful beauty blooms before my eyes. amazing!"

“where am i?”

“acheron, it hasnt even been a minute yet and you’re confused.”

people's eager stomping tremble the earth and sky. it's just that impressive. in the distance, an extra pair of wary eyes observe you.

"i admit, i am still suspiscious of you," sunday crosses one leg over the other. "robin sang nothing but praises. however, i'm afraid i'll need you under my surveillance to prove your trustworthiness."

urk. possessive much? "why are there knives, swords, and rocket launchers on the table?" sunday cocks an eyebrow at you, expecting you to make a move. "... i'm really not an assassin, sunday." but you do know his entire life story, so you're actually his stalker.

suddenly. the room blurs. an annoying static repeats, plucking the sensory wires from your circuit. is he... is he using his thingamajig powers?

"you may not be one... for now." he looks out a large window. you follow his gaze. wait a minute. what are they doing to-

“MY TRUUUUCK!!!” your passion transcends boundaries, past the lower-case and forcing the caps lock. lunging, you rush outside the mansion. "HEy!"

"aaaaa!! run!"

"eeek!"

"nyaa~!" who the hell was that?

"what the..." you are stunned. how dare they vandalise your truck! "was this your order?" you turn to sunday, infuriated.

"what will you do now?" a corner of his lips lifts, provoking.

you clench your fist. no one messes with you, the best truck driver, and only truck driver, in penacony.

hypothetically, if you got hit by a truck and ended up here, could you, a truck driver, hit a penaconian and isekai them over to your world?

"hey, robin?"

"hm?" her smile is innocent, gazing at you with a prospering kindness deserving of its own halo.

you smack your head. a dozen times over. then a few more.

"hey, aventurine?"

"hi hi~"

you shake your head. wouldn't his luck interfere? if anything, you'd be the one to get run over again.

"hey, acheron?"

"who are you?"

doesn't even know who you are despite telling her a minute ago. if she ended up in your world, she'd be asking the same question anyway: "where am i?"

you pick your nose. she'd slice you in half. period.

"hey, rappa."

"dazzling ninja rappa at your service!"

"as am i, the dimension-trespassing truck driving ninja!"

unfortunately, ninja roleplay with rappa is too fun. every friday, you play dnd together and you can't miss it this week.

there's only one person left.

"hey sun-"

"don't."

you stare blankly. "i didn't say anything?"

sunday glares back. "if you are going to speak to me, do it in front of me, and not while starting the engine of your truck."

"tch... damn."

"could i use your truck as a stage prop for my next concert?"

"oh, what if it suddenly rains?"

"what if i accidentally trip?"

you notice a gap in robin's behaviour. "how come you're so nervous today?"

robin looks at you, mouth on the verge of speaking. she looks down at her shoes. "hmm..." she tilts her head, lips mumbling. she hesitates, unready to spill her heart.

there's one thing you do best. you suggest, "why don't we go for a ride in my truck?"

robin's hunched back quickly reshapens itself. it's been some time since you've had a passenger, but with the way robin swiftly adjusts herself in the seats, excited, you don't worry about the mess in the truck. you start the vehicle, ready to stroll penacony's streets.

you hand her a piece of unexpired candy from a compartment, and she accepts the gesture. it doesn't take long before robin settles herself afterwards. she sighs. "... it's my brother, he'll be attending a show for the first time. i'm a bit nervous."

"why would he not be supportive?" you question.

robin shakes her head. "it may be because my brother is a perfectionist. i can't help but believe that he'll be expecting a flawless performance."

halovian songstress robin, a nation-wide icon, for her, expectations continually rise without rest. but for now, she sits next to you as robin herself, without the embellishments and performing. a breath of fresh air.

words of reassurance may be able to tend her heart. "make as many mistakes as you want," you comfort, "you are robin yourself before you are a singer, a civilian, and a sister."

the candy in her palm is scrunched. her heart, opens. robin herself, smiles. not because she is expected to, not because she is told to, but because she wants to. "thank you."

on the eighth day, grant... sunday getting down on one knee for you. wasn't this a bit fast?

your mouth opens. "are you proposing right now?"

"what are you on about?" sunday looks up at you, eyebrows scrunched. in his hands, a riiiiiiiiiiing- no, he's just cleaning his shoes with a cloth. better luck next time.

robin suggested to use your truck like a cabbie. that way, you can still keep your pride as a truck driver, and provide ears for wary hearts:

a student struggling with academics.

someone who doesn't know which direction to take.

the ramblings of a doctor whose words are spoken with precision, slicing his words into the victim's flesh. but behind the gloves are trembling hands that only wishes to sew tight the rotting wounds of a poor gambler, if only he would let him.

a galaxy ranger who witnessed the brevity of lives in the isolated expanse of the universe, walked along the shore of nihility. she departs with you her true name so that when she returns, your heart can accompany her solitude once more.

a young girl who cannot tell if the blood on her hands are someone else's, or her own. every allude to life reminded her of a deathly fate. however, as your passenger, she is reminded that she can forge a life of her own, undecided by destiny. penance and redemption, then, in the end, she hopes to regain her humanity.

you've listened to them all. unlocked each of their hearts, always gave back the key if they ever wanted to return again. turns out, the people of penacony are not much different from those in your world.

robin would pass out if she saw this.

from what you remember, there were 88 doors in the oak family's residence (you're a dedicated fan). you've explored each one, door 86, 87, 88... 89?

a secluded door that can only be seen with eagle eyes. the mystery kindles sparks in your chest, flaming curious fires. you slowly open the door. 86, 87, 88, 89... robins? (one for every door?) they all stare at you within their enclosures, as either posters, figurines, or books cover. in the middle sat a familiar head of grey hair, lowered, back turned towards you.

"sunday?"

the head moves up. gradually, it creaks. never in your life, did you expect to see a robin-crazed hidden room, nor a red-faced sunday. oh robin, the brother you were so worried about, is actually your no.1 fan. sunday's halovian wings flap furiously, doing nothing to cool his face down. his expression seems annoyed to have been caught in the act. "... what?"

"is this your robin shrine?" this is it. this will be your revenge, and the beginning tastes sweet. "so, you're the real criminal out of the two of us."

one can imagine the fumes blowing out of his ears. his eyes glisten, on the verge of tears. oops, he's really embarrassed.

you turn your face away, allowing sunday as much privacy as possible within his very private room. or rather, you are avoiding his eyes to suppress laughter. "you're coming to robin's concert, right?"

"you coming?" you gesture towards your majestic truck. it's a beautiful night for a truck ride.

sunday, your victim, is reluctant, of course. he probably still believes that you are an assassin who will run him over. "i won't die, will i?"

you huff. "i'm just a truck driver. what's the worse i could do? kidnap you?" sunday stares at you, frightened. it does not take much for him to believe in your potential for evil. "it's a joke... i'm not a criminal. or an assassin."

"just for a few minutes," he resigns. score. you open the door for sunday, who eventually sits down. you start the engine.

"welcome." sunday is in your truck. what an achievement. heh. you place your foot on the pedal.

it is silent apart from the engine's buzzing. you hand sunday an unexpired bag of chips from the compartment. he receives it, inspecting the packaging. his eyes trail to the window, studying how the sunset paints penacony with autumn's palette, but beyond it, he is watching the dots of people. you watch the melancholic sunday.

"what's on your mind?" you ask.

"nothing significant."

"well, the whole point of my trucking service is to listen to passengers." you turn the wheel. honestly, you don't know where you're going, and neither does sunday. the moon guides you tonight, two lost souls. "say anything."

sunday fiddles with the bag of chips. "...maintaining the oak family status, work, the people," he finally speaks, "it balances on my shoulders."

you hum, signalling him to continue.

"wouldn't a utopia free from suffering solve everything?"

quite a hard-hitting question for a truck driver, sunday. you nod. "of course. the only problem is that it is not real - everyone is forced into the current reality. it is harsh and cruel..." you blink. "but we are not powerless to it."

"how do you suggest we solve it?"

it is quiet for a moment before your mind wanders to every passenger you've had. they all had one thing in common. "i guess, a lot of people want a shoulder to lean on, an ear to open for them, and a voice to validate their feelings. we can do that."

all those passengers seemed to shine brighter at the end of the ride, ready to chase a dream. you may not be saving the world - you are no hero, just a truck driver - but you help tend the invisible wounds of people: the blood that drips from sharp words, the bruises that sting from deprecation, the headaches.

isn't it fine to take it slow? navigate the dark, little-by-little, and by the end, there will be an even brighter light.

"... i see." sunday watches your hands manoeuvre the truck's mechanics. the flick in your eyes that turn to him, to which he shies away from. then, he rests his eyes. as the truck drives, a silence hangs, one of quiet understanding. bit-by-bit, you gaze into sunday's heart.

it's been some time since you got run over.

adjusting to penacony was difficult at first. you had to adapt to life at the family's mansion, and the daily customs. however, the burden was eased slightly, all partly thanks to a special helper.

every morning, a cup of coffee or freshly-squeezed juice presents itself in the kitchen. every afternoon, your favourite bookshop always happens to have the book you wanted, already reserved for you. every night, your bedroom door slowly opens, quietly. your blanket, moves up to cover your torso. the mess in your room, rearranged and picked up. the back of a hand, feathers over your cheek. and nothing more happens. your little helper is easily satisfied at the sight of a peaceful you.

"does robin know about this room?" you are flipping through an ancient truck magazine.

sunday is wiping the display cabinets. his wings are flapping again, turning to you. "you didn't mention it to her, did you?"

"no, but she's going on tour soon after," you play with the corner of a page. "why don't you send her your encouragement?”

"what do you suggest?" he asks.

you look at the ceiling. it's full of robin's pictures. "a heartfelt letter? personally, i would buy her a truck but i don't think she needs that."

a small laugh escapes sunday's lips. you did not expect that. "that would be nice." he moves over to a desk, and from a drawer he pulls out a page adorned with blue flowers, and a pen.

you walk over to his desk. "you're into stationary?"

"i don't see why not," sunday says, "my work requires mostly writing, after all."

he begins from the top: 'dear sister,'. from there, sunday is a bit clumsy and awkward, asks her how the weather is and if she had breakfast. "... i've never done this before," is what he said. but gradually, the pen picks up, and the words flow. now, there was too much left unspoken when sunday reaches the final line, and had to cross out the sentence he was writing. a total of four pages, both sides filled, with more words waiting to be said - those would be left for when the siblings reunite.

"maybe we can have the people of penacony sign it too." you smile, imagining robin's elation when she reads it.

sunday nods. he scratches his signature and hands the paper to you. "here."

you take the pen, hesitant. "what's this for?"

sunday raises an eyebrow. "you're a citizen of penacony, are you not?"

... oh. were you? your throat dries. when did you become a part of penacony? weren't you... just a truck driver?

sunday watches you contemplate. a silence drawls. suddenly, he wraps his hand around yours, holding the pen still. "why are you hesitating?" nib meets page. ribbon by ribbon, the ink dances. "you belong here, don't you?"

your chest grows warm. you weren't expecting that either. full of surprises, aren't we? the same person that chained your hands and observed you, coldly answered to you, is offering his warmth. his hand is resolute, unwilling to let go. it reassure your doubts. you smile.

the pen lifts:

'from, your loving brother and, your dear friend.'

surprisingly, sunday has gotten comfortable with your presence in his forbidden robin cove. as you have with his in your magnificent truck.

yet, as much as you've driven closer, the gap is bottomless. sunday doesn't appreciate you looking at him, yet, he's allowed to drill holes in you when you're not aware?

you've asked robin, but she answered cryptically with a smile. "he used to watch over me as well, overprotective as always, but i'm sure that's his way of expressing himself when words fail him."

you reccount the passing moments.

a person more of action, lesser of words. for his people, he worked endlessly without their validation. for robin, he hid in the shadows of his much brighter devotion and support. for you, he let you slowly seep into his life, and you absorbed him into yours. a truck driver and an overqualified partner-in-crime.

quiet devotion is a tender song. without the beating of his loud commands, penacony would be left unprotected. without the instrumental scratching of his pen, there would be no light on the streets. without the percussive clicking of his shoes, the citizens would not be able to dance and celebrate.

this was sunday's song; no one else heard it, but it hums beneath the surface, invisible. those who press their ears against it can sense its vibrations. a silence that speaks louder than words or lyrics. and now, you can't mistake it, your heart beats to the silent song.

it is the night of robin's last stage in penacony. you and sunday stand on a balcony, watching over her. the final song sways along the night-caressed breeze, setting free the wings of hopeful listeners and dreamchasers.

though for a certain someone, he was using more of his eyes than ears. when you meet his golden pair, they turn away as usual.

"what's with you?" you lean against the railing.

his hands hide behind his back. "nothing significant."

"hey, i thought we were past that already. i told you i'm a truck driver who listen to their passengers."

silence hangs. a few more spoken words, "and? have you told your story?"

"me?"

his eyes find yours, but they don't turn away anymore. behind his role as penacony's figure and as a brother, it is sunday who is talking to you. in his gaze, it doesn't judge, impartial, waiting to listen, asking if it is okay for you to lend him your key.

he's come a long way into this journey. now, he awaits at your doorstep. the words catch in your throat. "i'm... just a truck driver..." you close your eyes. "a truck driver who got lost here."

sunday shakes his head. "i’m not asking about one miniscule part of your life. behind that is you who experienced a reality that built the person in front of me," his voice is shaky. an unsteady hand opens and closes, hopes to reach out for yours, but is uncertain. "i'm... asking for permission to learn all of you."

"..." robin's song is about to come to an end.

you look at the mirror. a mirror that always reflected only you, now fits one more person in the frame. that is your answer.

the you who is listening, reading, watching, all your past versions converge into this quiet meeting. usually, the mirror rejected, criticised, and distorted. but today, it finally listens. the mirror holds your reflection to be true. before you got to penacony, before you stood in the middle of a road, before you became a truck driver, you were...

"speak to me. i'm here to listen as you have for others." and keep that key to his heart, for it remains open unconditionally, always a place for you in there.

two losts souls, under the moon, found a home in each other.

a person closes the novel they were reading. they pick up their phone and start typing:

“-4.2/5 rating, absolute horror. where was robin at the end? i was waiting for her! and what’s with all the mirrors and life lessons? preeeeetty criiiinge. i'm reading a fantasy novel, not a lecture. why is mc even a truck driver anyways? also, not enough hand holding, and definitely not enough kissing. zero points!” this random nobody criticises, slamming fingers on the screen. they pause. “i wonder when the next volume will be released…”

a/n: great use of my holiday tbh, get everything out b4 i'm busy again💖i hate drawing hoyo charas they're so detailed, applause to all the hoyo artists u guys r goated fr i thought itd be cute to turn this into a series. i have some deleted ideas since i only wanted this to be a short piece (i got carried away smh). but tbh this fic ended off nicely, i dont think it needs continuing. idk. i like pistachio ice cream thanks for reading!!😲

#hold me back b4 i do a sunday arranged marriage isekai #with a train conductor reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr sunday #sunday x reader

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thequeenofcurses · 13 hours ago

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Your Birthday Surprise (f!Reader x Sukuna)

Summary: Sukuna takes you out for your birthday (sfw)

wk: 1300

(re-uploading this so I can organize it properly)

A/N Sorry I meant for this to be a short drabble, but I got carried away. It’s my first real jjk story post on here! I wrote this for @yuujispinkhair, who is someone that is super inspiring to me and her stories make me s happy. Happy Birthday to her!

Part 2 (nsfw)

10:45 pm

You checked your phone and sighed. Why did I even bother staying up this late on a Monday, you thought to yourself. Tomorrow’s just another day anyways.

You turn on one of your favorite romance audiobooks and set your phone to sleep mode.

11:59 pm

buzz buzz The vibration from your phone made you open your eyes, but exhaustion won the fight and you shut them close again.

8:15 am

“Wake up, woman,” came a deep, sultry voice from your doorway. “Eat these while they’re fresh”.

“Huh?” you croak out, throat still dry from barely waking up. Your boyfriend Sukuna stood nearly as tall as your bedroom doorframe. “Did you warm me up leftovers or something?”

“Tch,” he rolled his eyes and walked into your room, sitting atop your bed. “You really thought I would give you leftovers, today?”

“Well, it’s just Tuesday,” you responded nonchalantly while stretching. Your hair was messy, you're missing one sock, and you even had some drool on your cheek; yet Sukuna stared at you like you were the Mona Lisa.

“Hmph,” he scoffed. “Woman, it’s your birthday. So you’re going to eat one of these cupcakes, shower, then get ready to have the best damn birthday ever.” You blink back surprised that he remembered, but butterflies fill your stomach nonetheless. You’ve only been dating the town’s local bad boy, Sukuna, for a few weeks.

You nod and take the red velvet with dark chocolate cupcake into your hands, the confetti wrapping still warm. The aroma from the dessert filled your nose as you leaned down to take a bite. “Mhmm,” you softly moan to yourself. “This is delicious. Thank you”

“I texted you last night,” Sukuna waves off your thanks. “I wanted… to be the first person to tell you.”

As you finished the last bite of the world’s best cupcake, you gasped. You haven’t checked your phone since last night.

11:59pm, yesterday

Sukuna sent you a chat!

It’s your day, isn’t it? Don’t get used to all this attention. But since I’m feeling generous, I might grace you with my presence later. Happy birthday, brat.

Your heart skipped a beat reading his message. Speechless, you rose from your spot on the bed and jumped into his strong, warm arms. “Oh? Can’t keep your hands off me, huh?” he said with a smirk. “Guess I can’t blame you.”

“Thank you, Kuna. The cupcake was delicious.” You blushed, realizing you were still unkempt. “I’ll go get ready now.” You walked to your bathroom and hopped into the shower.

“Wear something warm!” he shouted from the other side of the door. “You’re not getting my jacket if you get cold.”

You are dressed in a black sweater dress with dark maroon leggings, and black winter uggs. Your makeup was very natural looking, yet accentuated all of your best features. You topped the look with a golden bracelet that had an ‘S’ inside of a heart. Sukuna gave it to you when you two made your relationship official. When you come out of the bathroom, you find Sukuna sitting on your couch.

“Wow,” he said while standing up to meet you. Tch. Who are you trying to impress looking like that? “Not bad. Try not to let all this attention go to your head though.” Sukuna smirked before reaching down into his pocket. “One more thing.” He pulled out a black box, but before he could open it, it slipped out of his hand. “Shit,” he muttered. He bent down on one knee to grab it.

“Oh. Sukuna… I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” you blushed sheepishly.

“Huh?” Sukuna frowns, not immediately understanding what you mean. Oh “I’m not proposing woman. It slipped from my hands.”

You blushed once again, feeling even more awkward about the misunderstanding. “Trust me, when I propose, it’ll be very lavish and grand. I can promise you that. Here, turn around.” Sukuna opens the black box, pulling out an alluring gold necklace. The pendant was in the shape of the ‘N’N’ type symbol tattooed

on Sukuna’s forehead. It was littered with diamonds and it had a red ruby in the middle. He gently pushes your hair out of the way, before placing the necklace onto you and locking it into place. “There. You look perfect. Mine” He whispered the last word in your ear.

You looked in the mirror before you left, loving the necklace. In fact, you kept touching it all day long to make sure it was there. First you two go see a movie, Red One, in a theater that was way too cold. Damn, I should’ve brought a coat. I thought this sweater would’ve been enough. Next, you two go ice skating. Sukuna being perfect at everything he does, skated around on the ice flawlessly. You stumble and slip a few times, but Sukuna is always there to catch you. “Tch. Can’t even stay on your feet? What am I going to do with you?" he said with a shit-eating smirk. You clung to him during most of your session, but he never complained.

After your ice skating date, he takes you to get dinner, then your favorite ice cream shop. Two gingerbread scoops for you and one strawberry scoop for him. You two sit outside by the fireplace, eating your individual ice cream cones before the fire suddenly goes out.

“Shit,” you muttered, starting to shake from the cold. “I thought this sweater would be enough to keep me warm.”

"I told you to dress warm, didn’t I woman?” Sukuna scoffed, taking off his coat and draping it around you. “But no, you just had to be stubborn." You two quickly finish your ice cream and then head back to your apartment.

The sky was a hue of oranges and a hint of pink, like his hair, as the sun was setting on your drive back home. Sukuna walked you up to your apartment door.

Your hand subconsciously returned to your neck, fiddling with the new necklace. “Thank you for the gift, Sukuna,” you said trying to hide your smile. “I didn’t expect today to be as great as it was, and it was only a great day because of you.”

“Tch. Don’t make such a big deal out of it. I only got it because I felt like it." Sukuna shook his head in denial. “Besides, I can’t take all the credit.” He walked closer to you, nearly pressing you up against your apartment door. “Your parents made one hell of a daughter.”

Your heart fluttered at the compliment. You wanted to thank him again, but couldn’t find the right words, so you kissed him. The kiss was like snow meeting the sun. It was freezing cold outside, but his lips and his body is what kept you warm. It was passionate, yet demanding all the same.

“I hope you had a good birthday,” he said after breaking the kiss. He started to walk away before pointing at the necklace "Just don’t lose it, alright? It’s yours."

A/N I AM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG! I wanted to write a spicy scene after they got back to her apartment but this was already getting too long. Idk if yuujispinkhair or anyone would even want to read that. Anyway, happy birthday to her and anyone else born during winter!

Part 2 (nsfw)

banner: @cafekitsune

#sukuna #jjk #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna scenarios #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #ryomen sukuna fluff #sukuna fluff #birthday #sfw #mine #my writing #thequeenofcurses

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icequeenlila · 2 days ago

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Silco x Vander Part2

(Link to first part at the end)

“On second thought”, Silco muttered when he watched one of the girls get up as if to come over. Her fellow friends cheered her on. “Take me home.”

Vander raised his eyebrows. “Huh?”

Silco turned to face him, holding out one of his hands. “I’ve had enough drinks. Take me home.”

And there was something in his eyes; Vander couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but it was there. Something heavy, something … intense.

He swallowed and his throat felt like a dry wasteland. The world seemed to blur around him; the hustling masses turned into vague silhouettes, the music fading into one single tune, the dim light of the bar turning everything golden and warm and fuzzy.

And in the middle of this swimming sea stood Silco; his eyes blue and sharp and the very anker of Vander’s perception.

He looked up at his best friend, his partner in crime, and he felt his heart skip a beat, felt it pick back up its rhythm way too fast, too strong. Felt it force hot blood through his veins until he could hear it pumping inside his ears, until he could feel it burning on his face.

Silco quirked one brow at him and Vander was transfixed by it.

His whole attention, his whole mind was on Silco and nothing else. He didn’t notice the music turning louder around them, didn’t notice the people passing them to get to the dance floor.

There was just Silco and his piercing blue eyes. Only Silco and his cute little frown as he turned his head, glaring at – What was he glaring at?

Vander followed his gaze and found a woman smiling down at him. He blinked in confusion.

The woman was looking at him as if waiting for an answer. Had she asked him a question? Vander hadn’t even noticed her approaching.

“Huh?”, he asked, the world slowly shifting back into place, now that he wasn’t staring at Silco anymore.

The woman – blonde, tall, pretty – laughed as if he’d said something funny. Vander wished she would go away.

He looked back at Silco and found him staring daggers at her. He had redrawn the hand he’d held out for him. Vander didn’t like that.

“I asked if you would like to dance”, the woman called over the loud music.

But Vander wasn’t even looking at her anymore. His entire attention was on Silco and the way his lips formed into an angered pout. He watched Silco move as if to cross his arms, but before he could do so, Vander reached out to him, taking hold of his wrist.

Silco didn’t fight him, only looked at him with a perplexed expression.

They stared at each other, their eyes locked, and finally, it clicked.

“Sorry”, Vander said in the girl’s direction without really looking at her. “I’m here with him.”

Silco’s eyes widened, but not by much, his brows wandering up and a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

‘So you do get what I meant’, his eyes seemed to say, and Vander could only smile back at him.

He really could be dense sometimes.

“Oh!”, the girl called, covering her mouth. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve known.” She gave them each an apologizing smile, tugging a strand of hair behind her ear. “Really guys, sorry. I hope you have a nice evening. Bye now!”

And then she turned to hurry back to her group of friends, who welcomed her back with nervous laughter and pitiful looks.

Silco and Vander both looked after her with irritated expressions on their faces.

“So”, Silco said after a while, turning back to face him. “You’re here with me?”

He gently tugged at Vander’s hand, urging him to stand, and Vander obliged with a low chuckle rumbling in his chest.

“I was here with you”, he teased, now looking down at Silco. “I was under the impression that we’re about to leave.”

Silco had to tip his head back to be able to look at him. He didn’t say anything, only studied Vander’s face, searching for something there. His pupils were wide and dark, indicating that his friend was still very drunk.

When Silco kept silently staring up at him, Vander began to doubt himself.

“Sorry, I thought I understood what you’d meant earlier, but if I’m wrong just tell- mmmhh.”

The alcohol also made him slow. One moment he’d been rambling, and in the other Silco had pulled him down by the neck, pressing their lips together in a quick kiss.

It was only a short moment of lips touching lips, but it was enough to get the point across.

When Silco pulled away, Vander had to blink against the dizziness inside his head. He found that he had his arms slung around Silco’s waist out of reflex. He felt him shift in his hold, a grin tugging at his lips, when he realized that Silco had been standing on his tippy-toes in order to reach up to him.

“I thought you’d never get it”, Silco said, a tipsy smile on his lips. “I swear I had to stop Felicia from screaming it into your face. Our girl was frustrated.”

Vander laughed at mental image.

“You should’ve let her”, he said, tightening his hold around Silco, pulling him closer. “Could’ve done this sooner.”

He touched his forehead to Silco’s, closing his eyes, happy to just hold him like this. Vander was still a bit drunk, his whole body buzzing with booze and butterflies, music thrumming in his ears.

He felt Silco’s huffed laugh on his lips from how close they were. Vander smiled when he felt Silco rub his nose against his, cuddling him without shame, like nobody was watching.

“Let’s get out of here”, Silco murmured, his warm breath hitting Vander’s lips, their mouths never quite touching. “Take me home, Vander.”

Vander dug his fingers into Silco’s hips, satisfied when he felt him flinch in his hold.

“Are you sure?”, he asked, his lips nibbling on Silco’s earlobe.

He couldn’t help the evil little grin spreading on his lips when he felt the man shiver against him.

“Very”, came Silco’s strangled response.

He pulled away from Vander’s embrace, instead entangling their fingers and tugging at him. Silco looked up at him with a promising smile on his lips, and Vander knew he’d follow him everywhere.

“Let’s find Felicia”, Silco said, his eyes never leaving Vander’s. “Tell her we’re leaving.”

Vander chuckled at that. “If she hasn’t left with someone else already.”

Silco shrugged his shoulders. “If she did, it means all three of us are getting lucky tonight.”

“Guess it does”, Vander replied with a grin.

They made their way through the masses with Silco leading the way. He was holding Vander’s hand as he navigated them towards the dance floor and Vander noticed that Silco was guiding his hand dangerously close to his lower back where his top was riding up, revealing a beautiful patch of smooth skin.

Silco moved so Vander’s knuckles would graze him there briefly, with every step he made.

Tease, Vander thought to himself, a knowing smirk on his lips.

Suddenly, Silco stopped and let go of Vander’s hand. Instead he reached up both his arms, waving them around.

“Felicia!”, he called with all his chest, still too drunk to worry about his appearance. “Felicia! Over here!”

“Wooooooooooh!”, a loud voice answered from the dancing crowd. “Silco! Vander! Heyyyyyyyy!”

Vander spotted her in the middle of the dance floor, one arm slung around someone’s neck and the other excessively waving back at them.

“Wait, we’ll come over!”, she called, dragging her flirt along.

“Guess, she’s found someone”, Vander chuckled. “Poor Connol.”

Silco shrugged his shoulders. “His fault for being so boring.”

Vander laughed.

He felt so good! Silco had kissed him and they were going home together. Silco had kissed him! God, he felt like a girl with a crush.

Silco was still scanning the crowd for their friend, so Vander had the opportunity to stare at him unbothered. And by Janna, he was beautiful.

Vander could get lost in those blue eyes; which had happened many times before. His fingers tingled with the urge to run them along the sharp lines of Silco’s cheekbones, the edge of his nose, along his expressive eyebrows and over his soft, soft lips.

He knew for a fact that they were soft, because he’d felt them on his own only moments ago. Vander felt his heart pick up at the memory of it alone. God, he was lost.

“I think I lost her”, Silco said, stretching his neck to see better. He even got onto his tippy-toes, without much avail.

Vander smiled at the sight. He opened his mouth to say something when he was rudely interrupted.

“Hey, baby”, some guy slurred, throwing an arm around Silco’s shoulders. “Wanna come home with me?”

Vander saw red. His hands pulled into fists, adrenalin flooding his system. He moved almost instantly, ready to deck the man into the head, but Silco held him back with a hand to his chest.

Pulling free from the guy’s grasp Silco positioned himself between him and Vander, hands on his hips and looking up at the stranger unimpressed.

“Look at me”, he said, gesturing along his body. His voice sounded unbothered, bored even.

The guy let his eyes wander down Silco’s body with a disgusting smirk on his lips. “Oh, I’m looking, baby”, he said with a suggestive tone in his voice, stepping closer, invading Silco’s space.

Oh, Vander wanted to strangle him, wrap his fingers around his throat and smash him into the next best wall. But Silco wouldn’t let him.

“Now tell me”, Silco said. “In what kind of universe do you believe this is gonna happen?”

He stared the guy dead in the eyes, not blinking once, seemingly unbothered by the foul breath of the other.

Vander watched with delight as the rejection seemed to dawn on the man. The guy’s features went from perplexed to ashamed to angry really quickly.

“And who do you think you are, huh?”, the man slurred, moving as if to grab Silco by the collar. “You little bitch!”

Vander moved out of instinct, pulling Silco back by the shoulder and shielding him with his own body.

The guy looked up at him and immediately went white in the face, his mouth the shape of an ‘o’.

“Touch him and I’ll rip off that hand of yours”, Vander growled.

The guy audibly gulped, nodding his head. Vander wouldn’t be surprised if the guy just pissed himself.

The man pulled up his shoulders, about to flee the scene when Silco slipped past Vander, a vicious grin on his lips.

Vander watched with wide surprise as Silco grabbed the man by his crotch, grip so tight his knuckles turned white.

The man screamed in pure agony, trying to get away from Silco and only screaming louder when Silco twisted his hand on him.

“Call me bitch one more time, and it won’t just be your hand I’ll rip from your pathetic, disgusting body!”, Silco hissed into the guy’s face, a grimace of a grin on his lips and cold glee inside his eyes. “Got it?”

“Yes!”, the guy wailed, his eyes shining with tears.

Silco cocked his head at him, staring a little longer. “Good”, he said as he watched the first pained tear roll down the man’s cheek.

He let go.

The guy immediately stumbled backwards, body curled and bent over. He looked up at them one final time, a look of raw horror on his face, before fleeing into the crowd.

Vander stared at Silco in shocked awe.

Silco simply straightened his back, blowing a strand of hair out of his face.

“Told you”, he said, turning to face Vander. “Got the suitors lining up.”

First Part

Still not finished. I'll probably fix some things while editing. I'll let you know when it's up on ao3.✨

#silco #vilco #vander #vanco #silco x vander #vander x silco #arcane silco #young silco #zaundads #vander arcane #young vander #young zaundads #Vilco fic #arcane fic #silco fic #zaundads fic

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vulpixisananimal · 2 days ago

Text

[A:3 C:66] [Alex] |Jasmin|

[You all got home alright, no one came running, no one stopped you, and there wasn’t a hair out of place in the house. You had locked the door once everyone was in, and made sure to secure every other entrance. Once you were sure that there weren’t going to be any nasty surprises, you got water for whoever needed it, and grabbed some things to help fix up any injuries. Once THAT was all done, you finally took a second to breathe.]

[You leaned your head against a wall, breathing slowly in. . . Then out. . . In. . . Out. . .]

[This had all been a lot to take in. No memory, Eris dead, new friends, the blinding Monets. . . Stars, you just needed a second to not go nuts, and just, breathe.]

[You turned to look at the rest of the living room. Isabeau, Mirabelle, and Siffrin- no, Loop, were all sitting on the couch. Odile was laying back in a chair, eyes closed, and Nille and Bonnie were a few feet away, sitting at the base of the stairs. Bonnie needed a second to be alone and calm down, but not too alone. So this was a nice compromise.]

[Once you’re sure everyone’s settled, you stretch and walk back into the living room, taking the free chair and sitting down with a sigh.]

“. . . . . I blinding hate those guys.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” [Odile responded without opening an eye.] “. . . We should, go over everything then, right?”

“Y-yeah. . .” [Isabeau looks awkwardly at the siblings.] “Is, that okay? Nille? Bonbon?”

[Nille looks down at Bonnie, who nods, she turns back.] “. . . Yeah, we’re good.” [She stands up and walks over, Bonnie right behind.]

“Loop? You alright?” [Mirabelle shook the traveler lightly, who then jolted back to reality. Nille sat leaned on the couch, and Bonnie sat on the floor.]

“I’m here I’m here~” [Loop rubbed their neck, and picked at the bandage around their leg.] “Stars. . . Where do we start?”

“Asterion?” [You suggest, the party, except Bonnie, nod.]

“Right.” [Loop sighs, exasperated, and dig around in their cloak before pulling out a journal.] “Well. . . Asterion first showed up a few days before arriving here, and since then, his entries have only been innocent.”

|You like Asterion. You think.|

“He’s been. . . Pretty alright.” [Nille grumbles.] “It’s just, y’know. . .”

“A shock?” [Isabeau suggests.]

“Yeah, it’s just a shock. . .” [She rubs her neck.] “I uh, he’s not, literally, the King, right?”

[Loop shook their head.] “No, no. An introject, like Null. . . An imperfect copy. Or impression.”

“B-but, I would have thought that, t-that they would end up with someone they knew more than the KIng.” [Mirabelle is fiddling with her dress.]

“Don’t forget, 176 loops~” [Loop chimed in.] “He. . . Left quite an impact. On both of us.”

“Quite. Even so, I think Asterion only copied his mannerisms, not his personality.” [Odile crosses her arms.] “And let me guess, that little scuffle in your head was because of Asterion?”

“. . .” [Loop glanced at you, then away.] “. . . Y-yes, yes.”

“I still don’t remember that, whatever it was.” [You shook your head.] “Seems to have ended up alright, though.”

“. . . Rrrriiiiight.” [Loop squints at you.] “Well. . . It’s hard for me to trust Asterion, and for the rest of you, that is for you to decide.”

“We’re definitely having talks with him later.” [Isa nods.] “Besides! I haven’t met one of your headmates I don’t like yet!

“About that.” [Loop cleared their throat.] “This is the second time Perci’s mentioned that Mal is a sadness. The first time was when Null bumped into him at the tea-vern--”

“Wait you did?!?” [Mira jumped up.] “W-when was that?!?”

“Oh! Ah, a few days ago, almost a week, even.” [Loop rolled their eye.] “Oh Null, you and your poor communication skills. . . A-anyway! That’s gotten me thinking, is Mal du Pays a sadness? Or an alter?”

“W-well. . . Mine ended up in my head, like a Daemon. And it acted as its own thing somewhat when Ramos went into my head, so. . .”

“I wouldn’t rule it out.” [Odile adds.] “I. . . Confronted mine when Perci tricked me. He called it a mental barrier. And called Mal a “tamed” sadness.”

“Sadness or not, Mal’s been kind enough.” [Isabeau nods again.] “We’ll figure it out.”

“Although, speaking of Perci.” [Odile said with a bitter tone.] “I. . . I am sorry. I’m sorry for causing you all trouble.”

“. . . . Forgiven!”

“I-it’s okay!!”

“I’ll let you go this once~”

“Hey we’re all okay now.”

“I trust that crab as far as I can throw him.” [You grumble.] “Let’s just not make it a habit. Now, was he trying to dominate you? Kill you? What.”

“For one, he wanted to look through my memories.” [Odile looks away.] “. . For two, he wanted me to face my sadness, to potentially learn mind craft.”

“I see.” [You tap your chin.] “Hmm. . . So having a tamed sadness is a key step in learning mind craft.”

[The air of the room was getting colder, ah, right. You reach out a hand and put it on Odiles knee.] “. . . And it’s, no shame, madam.”

“. . Thank you.” [Odile pauses, and lets out a sigh, smiling back at you.] “I believe Perci found something in my memory that intrigued him. One of the disturbed parts was our fight against the King. Specifically, that the King remembered.”

“Remembered?” [Nille asks.]

“O-oh! Right.” [Mirabelle was bouncing her leg.] “When I reflected the King's freezing curse back at him, he said something about, finally remembering? A-and I think that’s. . . To do with. . W-with the, the. . .”

“The Island North of Vaugarde.” [Loop finishes.]

“Y-yes! That!!”

“That makes sense.” [Isa looks to the side, thinking.] “They’re looking for information on the island, or how to bring it back. So something like that would be a goldmine.”

“Well we know where they’d be headed next I bet.” [You smile.] “It’s Dormont where the King was frozen, right?”

[There’s an awkward silence, broken only by Mirabelle.] “. . . Y-yes, but. . .” [She, looks at Loop.]

“. . . .” [They look at the ground.] “. . . . . . Let’s move on.”

“R-right.” [Miabelle takes a breath.] “I. . . W-well, we should talk about. . .”

[There’s a pause as no-one wants to say it. Well, except for you.] “. . . About Boniface’s wish?”

[Bonnie tucks their legs close and looks away.] “. . . Don’t want to.”

“. . . I get it, Bonbon.” [Nille says, reassuring.] “It’s one of those things where we don’t wanna do it but-”

“I don’t WANT to!!” [Bonnie hides their face.] “I don’t!!!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” [Nille kneels down next to them.] “None of us are going to be mad, okay?”

“But that’s not how the stupid crabbing wish works!!” [They shook their head.] “It’s a secret! And if you say the secret you lose it!! I’ll just shut up until we’re all safe from THEM and!!! A-and!!”

“. . B-boniface?” [Loop sits up, looking at them.] “D-do, you mean that, birthday wish-”

“It’s fine! It’s NOTHING!!” [They’re covering their head with their hat.] “It’s stupid!! It’s dumb!!!”

“B-but it’s-”

“It’s FINE!! It’s fine if I have those crabbing nightmares of your stupid crabbing loops!! It’s fine if I remember it!! It’s fine ‘cause I can remember to do things to make loops easier!! Or get stuff ready!!! AND Those stupid crabbing stupidfaces can’t get into my head!!!”

“W-what-”

“I’ll just KEEP IT HERE UNTIL WE’RE ALL OKAY!!! Then, t-then I’ll say the secret wish and it’s back to normal!!! You, y-you CRABS!! Just, j-just LEAVE ME ALONE!!!”

[There’s a tense silence. Loop gets up, walks over to Bonnie, and kneels down.] “. . . L-little flare. . .”

“J-just. . .” [Bonnie isn’t looking up. Nille is looking between them, and Loop.]

“. . . Flare. . . Bonnie. . . Bonbon. . .” [Loop reaches out, and puts a hand on their hat.] “I-I. . . That’s, not how the wish works.”

“W-whuh?” [Bonnie finally looks up at them and Nille.]

“. . . Wishes can’t be broken like that.” [They look down.] “”A secret between you and the universe” is just, a-a, a turn of phrase, little flare.”

[There’s a pause, Bonnie staring at loop, until Loop finally finishes the thought.]

“You. . . Won’t be able to just forget it. I’m sorry.”

[There’s a second of tense silence where the stars wait to watch what happens next. Bonnie's face cracked, and then they wailed, diving into Loop’s arms. A moment later, Loop wrapped their arms around them, and Nille joined a second later.]

|They’re crying a lot. . . Maybe, get some water?|

[Good idea, you stand up, and go to get them some more water. In the time where you left and came back. Mirabelle and Isabeau joined in the hug as well. You placed the water down nearby, and sat. Not your school, not your fishes.]

[Once Bonnie was sufficiently calmed down, Mira and Isabeau took their seats. Nille took Loops spot, with Bonnie on her lap. Loop sat on the armrest of the couch. Nille picked up the glass of water and gave it to Bonnie to sip.]

“. . .” [You tap your finger on the table.] “. . . So. . . If, the whole memory thing is a bit, much, we can just talk about it another time, right?”

“Mh hmh.” [Bonnie mumbles, looking away.]

“In that case,” [You lean back in your chair.] “That should be everything. Let’s all rest up and-”

“NUH UH!!!”

“Yeah Ramos you’ve been acting weird!”

“Really? I think “Ramos” here is acting as normal as I am! Teehee~”

“H-hah yeah, uh, buddy you’ve been kinda different.”

“I-it’s not that we’re going to j-judge you less or anything, it's just. . .”

“You’re not exactly Ramos right now, are you?”

[You sat up again, confused, at everyone's exclamations. You looked between them all. Squinting.] “What are you blinding talking about?”

“It’s alright, not-ramos~ It was very scary for us talking about it too.” [Loop said in a tone that suggests comfort.]

“E-exactly!! We’re here to help in any way we can!!”

“That’s not helping.” [You cross your arms and shake your head.] “How about you talk Vaugardian instead of assuming I know what you’re talking about.”

[They all pause, and look at you in stunned silence.]

[That is until Odile bursts out laughing.]

“What’s so funny.” [You glance at her.]

“Haaahahhahaha!! Ah I just realized what Merlon found so humorous!!” [She shook her head and grinned.] “I don’t think “Ramos” has realized.”

|This is scary.|

“Realized what!?!” [This is getting annoying. You glance over to Jasmine in the greenhouse. We’ll be fine.]

“Oh my! Really?” [Loop said in a cheeky tone.] “Wow! Oh they’re more oblivious than Stardust, then~”

“Come on, be polite.” [Odile responds before turning to you.] “Well, Ramos, or not-ramos, you do know what a system is, right?”

“. . . Yyyyes.” [You plucked a fruit off a greenhouse plant and nibbled at it.] “It's multiple people sharing one body, basically. I know some things about it but I think most of it was lost to amnesia.”

“I see.” [Odile grinned and crossed her arms, like a professor expecting a specific answer.] “And does that sound like you at all?”

“No?”

“YES!!!” [Came a unanimous shout from the room.]

|LOUD!!|

[You wince at the noise.] “It’s- it is NOT!! What gives you that idea!!”

“You’re acting really crabbing weird!!!” [Says Bonnie.]

“That’s just my mood.”

“You dress very differently!” [Says Mirabelle.]

“I like to change things up.”

“You forgot the last few months of your life!!” [Says Nille.]

“That was Percis mind craft.”

“You’re not using your tonfas!!” [Says Isabeau.]

“I can use different weapons if I want.”

“You’re blinding paper craft, Ramos!!” [Says Loop.]

“I’m just. . . Using paper craft skills?”

“Ramos, or not-ramos.” [Odile gives you a stern yet smug look.] “What you looked like in my mindspace was completely different than what you were before.”

“W-well, I-” [Hmm.]

“A-and you have a headspace!!” [Mirabelle jumps in.] “A-are there other people in it?”

“Well, yeah? Doesn’t everyone?”

“NO!?!??!” [Everyone says again.]

|Too much please!|

[You wince again.] “Will you please stop yelling? I’m not a system!”

“Clearly you are!!” [Loop looks at you, annoyed.] “What about those other people, do you talk to them? Other voices in your head?”

“Look.” [You lean forward.] “I’m not a system! I’m not plural! My headspace is just a way to organize my thoughts! And the people in it, this version of me and all the others, are imaginary friends! They’re NOT! REAL-”

|HEY!!!! RUDE!!!!!|

[You wince, Jasmine was storming into the greenhouse and punched you. A-azzy that-]

|I’M REAL!!! I’M SUPER REAL!!!! MEANY!!! YOU BAT!! YOU MEAN BAT!!!|

[You shake your head, confused and dizzy. J-jasmine I, but, we-]

“Ha!” [Loop grinned.] “Let me guess, you just got someone in your head yelling at you that they are, in fact, real?”

|I AM REAL!!!|

[You, blink a few times, and then, nod. S-sorry, Jas, uh. . . Stars. . .]

|Batface. You leave the greenhouse, still a bit angry.|

[You sit back in the chair, taking a few breaths.] “. . . . I. . .”

“Do you need a second?” [Asks Mirabelle. You nod.]

[You breathe in. . . . And out. . . .] “. . . . I, guess this explains the difference in. . . Well, self image?”

“You did say your body was ‘not your style’” [Nille adds.] “You have a different name, too?”

“I. . .” [You, think for a moment, then nod.] “. . . Alex. It’s Alex. I’ve always thought of this. . . Version of me, being, called Alex.”

“Well it’s good to meet you Alex!” [Isabeau puffs his chest up.] “Or uh, did we already know each other?”

“I only remembered you and Mirabelle, big guy.” [You chuckled.] “There were. . . Always four versions of, me in my head. A-and. . . That’s not normal?”

“No.” [Odile dryly replies.] “Not at all.”

[You rub your face.] “Some academic I am.”

“So, who are the others?” [Asks Loop, leaning in like some housemaiden wanting for the latest gossip.]

“Well. . . There’s me, Alex (they/she). I come around for all things study and test related. There’s Ramos (they/them), who takes care of the physical body, as well as train it, you know them. Jasmine (he/they), who’s quite a bit younger, and likes to garden and keeps our head clear. And Altiare (any/all), who comes out to deal with any threats.”

[You rub your forehead.] “When. . . Ramos, who was in control at the time, made some deal with Perci and Merlon, that crab Perci got in our head and buried the three of us in the garden. When I came to, it was just me and Jasmine. Ramos and Altiare are still missing. . . Stars my head hurts.”

“I-it’s alright! You can figure it out at your own pace, Alex.” [Mirabelles infectious smile was creeping onto your own.]

“Exactly.” [Odile rests her head on her hand and looks at you.] “New discoveries need studying, yes, but don’t burn yourself out about it.”

[. . . Hmm. You mimic her, head resting on your hand.] “As well as getting it. . . Peer reviewed.”

[She smirked back.] “Exactly.”

[. . . Heh, maybe this wasn’t all bad.]

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jujumin-translates · 2 days ago

Text

[A3!] Tsuzuru Minagi | [R] Casually Showing Skin Mode | L3tt3r Fr0m A Gy4ru

Tsuzuru: (And I’m finally done with classes for the day. Okay, guess I’ll head home—.)

Tsuzuru: (Hm? That’s quite the crowd. Wonder what’s going on…)

Taichi: Ah, Tsuzuru-kuuun!

Juza: Good work.

Tsuzuru: Oh, so you guys are here too. Is there some kinda event going on or something?

Taichi: I dunno, we just got here. It sure is busy. Wonder what’s up.

Juza: Huh, there’s a whole lotta stuff here. They’ve got random things, books, ‘n even household appliances lined up.

Tsuzuru: Ahh, I get it… It’s probably a reuse market.

Taichi: Reuse market?

Tsuzuru: It’s a kinda on-campus event where students who are about to graduate give away things they don’t need anymore to younger students.

Juza: Now that ya mention it, you got a book of short stories at the last one, didn’t ya, Tsuzuru-san?

Tsuzuru: Yeah, I was curious about this one that one of the upperclassmen told me about, but it happened to be out of print.

Taichi: Damn, lucky! Where’s that book now?

Tsuzuru: After I finished reading it, I started passing it around the company to anyone who wanted to read it.

Tsuzuru: That reminds me, I wonder who’s got it now…

Taichi: Who are the ones who wanted to read it?

Tsuzuru: Umm, Miyoshi-san, and Takato-san have already read it… And I think Furuichi-san and Tsukioka-san said they were interested too.

Juza: I’m interested in readin’ it too.

Tsuzuru: Gotcha. I’ll bring it over to you whenever I get it back then, Juza.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Tsuzuru: I’m back.

Tsuzuru: (...Huh, did I leave a book out on my desk…?)

Tsuzuru: (Ah, that was the book we were just talking about. What perfect timing to get it back. I’ll go and bring it over to Juza right aw—.)

*Paper falls out of the book*

Tsuzuru: …Hm? Did something just fall out of it?

Tsuzuru: A note?

Thx 4 l3nding m3 thiz, Tzr-kun. I w4z rlly impr3zz3d w h0w clvr th3 f0r3shad0wing w4z. Th3 nam3z of th3 flwrz n th3 flwr l4ngu4g3 m3nti0n3d n th3 prlg s3nt such 4 shvr d0wn my spin3 tht I rlzd tht th3 clprt mightv3 4ctlly b33n TwT nstd 0f xD. If I w3r3 t0 pl4y tht r0l3, M sur3 thtz wht I wld d0…

Tsuzuru: The hell…? Is this a cipher or a prank or something?

Tsuzuru: —Ah.

Tsuzuru: Is this… that gyaru-speak thing?

· ❀ —– ٠ ❀ ٠ —– ❀ ·

Tsuzuru: Jeez, he better still be here…

Omi: Welcome back.

Izumi: Hey, Tsuzuru-kun, would you rather have curry udon or soy milk curry hotpot for dinner tonight?

Tsuzuru: Aren’t both of them still curry? Well, it was pretty cold today, so hotpot would be…

Tsuzuru: Wait, that’s not what I’m here for! Is Miyoshi-san here?

Omi: Kazunari’s in the kitchen.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Kazunari: Lookin’ for me~?

Tsuzuru: The hell is this? I literally can’t read any of it…

Kazunari: Oh, gyaru-speak! What’s this about?

Tsuzuru: What do you mean ‘what’s this about’...? You didn’t write this?

Tsuzuru: It was stuck in the book I just got back, and you’re the only one who would write something like this, Miyoshi-san…

Kazunari: Ermm~, well, it wasn’t me.

Tsuzuru: What? But if it’s not you, then the people who I lent the book to after you were Takato-san, Furuichi-san, Tsukioka-san—.

Tsuzuru: No, it had to have been you, Miyoshi-san.

Izumi: Maybe if you read the note you’ll be able to figure out who wrote it?

Tsuzuru: Right. Umm—.

Tsuzuru: …

Tsuzuru: Yeah, not happening. I’ve got no clue what it says no matter how hard I try to read it…

Izumi: Let me see. …Umm, I can’t read it either.

Omi: Those don’t even look like sentences to me.

Tsuzuru: Damnit. What are we gonna do…?

Kazunari: I’ve gotcha, fam. I’ve got this gyaru-speak translator website.

Kazunari: Just gotta take a pic, scan the text, and… copy-paste and translate ♪

Tsuzuru: That’s incredible… So, what does it say?

Kazunari: “Thank you for lending me this, Tsuzuru-kun. I was really impressed with how clever the foreshadowing was. The names of the flowers and the flower language mentioned in the prologue—.”

Kazunari: “Sent such a shiver down my spine that I realized that the culprit might’ve actually been crying instead of laughing.”

Kazunari: “If I were to play that role, I’m sure that’s probably what I would do…”

Kazunari: Wait, could this be…

Tsumugi: I’m back~.

Tsuzuru: Perfect timing. Um, Tsukioka-san. About this note…

Tsumugi: Ah! Thank you for the book, it was really interesting.

Tsuzuru: No, not that…! Did you write this, Tsukioka-san?

Tsumugi: Yeah. Ah, did I forget to write my name on it?

Tsuzuru: Forget about that! Why is it in gyaru-speak!?

Tsumugi: Kazu-kun told me that gyaru stuff and gyaru-speak are really popular nowadays, so I tried using it.

Kazunari: Ohh~, yeah, so, I might’ve told TsumuTsumu about that translation website the other day…

Tsuzuru: So it WAS because of you!

Tsumugi: Ahaha, maybe I should’ve written it normally. Sorry, my bad.

Izumi: I never would’ve thought it was you, Tsumugi. That was quite a surprise.

Omi: Yeah. Good thing we figured it all out.

Kazunari: But like, wasn’t it kinda fun? It was like a little cipher game.

Tsumugi: Yeah, and it was really easy to do. Why don’t we recommend it to the others?

Kazunari: Banger idea, bestie! I bet RonRon and Taicchan would eat this up, don’tcha think?

Tsumugi: I bet Azuma-san and Homare-san would enjoy it too.

Tsuzuru: Wait! Quit trying to come up with weird trends!

#a3!#a3! translation #tsuzuru minagi #kazunari miyoshi #omi fushimi #tsumugi tsukioka #// kicking off my return by obliterating all my braincells while working on this

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novahreign · 2 days ago

Text

This made me nervous posting this. I’m not the best writer but I do try and I don’t have any fancy pictures but I hope that you enjoy it, just the same.🫣

“Kendra, Wait!” Tyler rushed behind her friend who sped past patrons in a restaurant to rush to the bathroom. The bride to-be, got lost between waiters and guests who stood around mingling. Tyler sidestepped quickly to avoid knocking into a waiter coming with a tray full of hors d’oeuvres that she completely missed the guy coming on her left, bumping into him, spilling red wine on herself and his white button up shirt.

“Oh my goodness. I am so sorry, I was trying to avoid hitting them-

“Hey.”

“And I wasn’t looking where I was going. I didn’t even see you.”

“It’s o-“

“Now your shirt is ruined!”

“Hey. Hey.” Rough, large hands took hold of shakey hands-steadying them. “It’s okay. It’s just a shirt, it’s all good. He gently moved her toward him” come this way.”

“I got it ma’am.” One of the waiters said. She moved aside so he can clean her mess. “I’m sorry about that.”

“You’re fine ma’am. It happens quite often.” He chuckled. She gave an embarrassed smile and turned her attention to the man whose shirt she messed up. Her head jerked back, wow. Her eyes scanned over his features. He was handsome.

“Umm…Can I buy you a drink, you know, to make up for this?” She motioned to his shirt

Terry was about to answer but her friend came up to her, getting her attention.

“Ty, It’s not looking good in there, She needs you!”

“Okay, uh, don’t go anywhere, I still owe you that drink!”

She followed behind Marcy and found Kendra slumped over the bathroom toilet.

“I think we may have pregamed too hard.” Shonda, the matron of honor said. Tyler had to agree.

“Guys, why’d you let me drink like this Ughh, I’m never drinking againnn” Kendra’s words slurred” Kendra let out some more, the sound echoing in the empty bathroom. They were supposed to be celebrating Kendra’s last two nights as a “not so single, single” and now Tyler was trying not to inhale the smell of alcohol mixed with Cajun seafood. The bathroom smelled vile.

“Marcus is going to be mad at me.” Kendra whine, throw up sliding down her chin.

“No, he’s not. “ Tyler wiped her face with a wet paper towel before throwing it on the toilet”Because, tomorrow you will detox and it’ll all be fine.” She used her foot to flush,” Come on, y’all, I think we should call it a night.”

As the girls walked out the restaurant. Tyler spotted the guy, she wasted a drink on at the bar. “Hey,go ahead, I’ll be right there.” She walked over to him and tapped his shoulder. He turned around with a confused look on his face.

“Hi, I’m Tyler.” She stretched her hand out

He looked her up and down before taking her hand in his. “Terry.”

“Nice to meet you, Terry. Hey, look. I wanted to apologize about this. I’m sorry.” She motioned to his shirt. “What are you drinking? I can buy you another drink, you know to make up for spilling your wine.”

He tip the almost empty glass toward her “Whiskey.”

Tyler turned her nose up. “Ew, but okay.”

“You judging my drink choice?

She titled her head, “ I am, whiskey is plain nasty.”

“It’s an acquired taste.”

“For people with rotten taste buds,”

He laughed out loud. “Rotten taste buds, really?”

“Excuse me.” She got the bartender’s attention “Hi……” she began rattling off his drink order. Terry took that time to take her in while sipping on his drink some more. She was beautiful, the orange dress complimented her dark skin. The dress clinging to her curves wasn’t bad sight either.

“I hope that you’re impressed by what you see, you’re staring pretty hard.” Terry met her eyes, noticing the teasing glint. Terry lifted an eyebrow.

“Oh, I am.”

She bit back a smile. “Well I’m glad. Here’s your drink. Again, I’m sorry but I hope you enjoy.” She patted his back before walking towards the double doors leading to the busy New Orleans Street. Terry tossed his drink back, throw a tip on the counter before coming up behind her.

“Hey, Tyler. Wait up.” He grabbed her wrist.

She jumped at feeling a hand on her, he apologize for scaring her. “What, two drinks not enough?” She smiled sheepishly

“Ha. Funny.” She laughed then looked at him expectantly. He sighed “You in New Orleans long?” She searched his face, deciding on whether or not she should share that information.

Oh, what the hell! It isn’t like she was going to see him again.

“I’ll be in town for a little while. I’m here for my friend’s wedding, why?”

“You think she’d mind, if you broke away from the group.”

“Why would I do that?” She gave him a knowing smile.

“Uh…” Tyler picked up on his nervousness and could tell that he wasn’t used to putting himself out there, she decided to help him out.

“Look, give me your phone.” He grabbed his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and handed it to her.

She put her clutch under her arm and typed something before holding the phone up to her face to take a selfie. She showed him the picture and he chuckled. “Text me when you wake up and we can meet back her for breakfast. Sound good?.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

She smiled “Okay, well, then. I’ll see you tomorrow” she winked at him “Goodnight Terry.”

“Goodnight Tyler.”

He watched her walk into the crowd before looking down her contact photo. He tapped his phone against his palm. Yeah, he was looking forward to seeing her tomorrow.

#aaron pierre x black reader #terry richmond #terry richmond x black reader

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twst-aceofhearts · 23 hours ago

Text

Chocolate

a/n: the bonus fic I was talking abt in my post - more as an apology for not posting a fic in so long - do i realize that the ratio of words in ace fics to other characters' is significantly more? yes. will i make it equal and tone down my ace fics? absolutely not. ;)

I TOTALLY DON'T HAVE AN IMPENDING HYPERFIXATION ON ACE PSHHH WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT

slow burn(?)

@ai-kan1 peace offering plz accept me TT

not proofread sorry

tw: very cheesy and very cringe-worthy kissing scenes

pairing: Ace x Fem!Yuu (has a nut allergy and gets motion sickness for the sake of plot)

words: 6234 (hoo boy..)

taglist: @luxaryllis @thegoldencontracts @waterthatsmoe @ai-kan1

“You’re pretty popular these days, huh,” Ace says, his words lacking the teasing lilt he’d hoped to achieve upon seeing the piles of chocolates on Yuu’s table that morning.

Though—he inspects the stacks of cheap gifts he could easily discern were from Sam’s Shop. Do these people really think they can win Yuu over with shallow and thoughtless offerings like these? Did they even try?

Now, he’s no critic, but if Ace was given the chance to take part in this annual wooing fest, he’d go out of his way to take Yuu to an amusement park (everyone loves those) and impress her by winning all those crappy games for you (he’s street-smart, he’d know what he’s doing). Not only would Yuu end up utterly smitten with him, he’d also earn brownie points he can show off to Deuce. It’s an entirely win-win situation…or something. He wouldn’t know. It’s not like Ace spends his time thinking about this in minute detail. Haha, nope. Yuu was his best friend, and best friends don’t do that to each other.

…Probably.

“I guess,” Yuu hummed, rummaging through the mountain of chocolates, hoping for at least one decent piece without nuts.

“You guess?” Ace echoed in what almost sounded like a scoff. He leaned over her, arms crossed on the tabletop so that he could glance at the boxes in Yuu’s hands. “I counted twenty-three boxes. That’s basically the whole of the first years and half the second years at this school. What’s with all these chocolates for you, huh?”

With an amused smirk, he snatched a box out of her hands, inspecting the package.

“That’s some great hyperbole use, Ace. I didn’t realize your range of grammar was so wide,” Yuu deadpanned, “I’d appreciate it if you gave that back. It’s the only one without nuts and I want to satisfy my sweet tooth.”

“My grammar is amazing, you know. I’m the whole package,” Ace teased, tossing the box between his hands. His smirk was only growing bigger, seeming thoroughly entertained by her irritation. “But you didn’t answer the question: Why are you getting so many chocolates, hm?”

“Zero times a number is still zero,” Yuu countered back with a small smirk of her own. “And how would I know why so many people like me that way?”

“Ouch,” he deadpanned back in response. He put a hand to his chest in mock-despair. “Your cold words wound me. Here, a poor boy was just trying to give you a hard time, and you go ahead and say that.”

Ace was clearly just messing around with you, having the cheekiest damn smile on his face to show it.

“And you should have some idea, right? People like you because you’re cute. That’s it. Pretty simple reasoning.”

“You and your theatrics,” Yuu lightly shook her head. “But, I wasn’t expecting you to admit that. Are you one of the many people that like me or something?”

“Huh- hey, I do not have theatrics!” Ace protested with a huff. Although there was a hint of indignance in his voice, it quickly faded away to his usual carefree tone. He chose to ignore the second part of her question, but he couldn’t quite stop the flush that began to bloom over his cheeks. “I’m just being sarcastic with you! You ought to know that I’m just giving you a hard time, since I always give you a hard time.”

“Theater boy,” Yuu smiled, teasing him. She stood up, suddenly taking the box of chocolates back.

“Oh, come on!” Ace whined, following Yuu as she moved. “Don’t just take it back after that!”

For a moment, it seemed like he was about to make a grab for the box again, but he quickly aborted the motion with a huff and crossed his arms.

“So you still didn’t answer my question. Why the heck are you getting so many chocolates, anyway? Did you accidetally charm the entirety of our class or something?!”

“Look, I don’t know! This is what happens when you put a girl in an all boys school full of hormonal guys!” Yuu huffed, popping a piece of chocolate into her mouth.

“Oh- that’s why-”

Ace bit back a bark of laughter, instead covering his mouth and muffling his giggles behind his hand. After a moment, he got his amusement relatively under control, clearing his throat and shaking his head.

“Hormonal guys. Yeah, that seems about right. So you’re really not like, secretly flirting with half the school like I thought? I actually have a shot after all?”

Yuu raised an eyebrow. “I’m starting to think you are a part of the guys that like me.”

“Me? You think I like you too?” Ace exclaimed, laughing in a poor, failed attempt to hide the nervous blush that was quickly overtaking his face.

“Well, I mean-” He looked away, suddenly unable to meet her Yuu’s eyes. His voice lowered as he continued. “So what if I… I mean, hypothetically…”

“So you do?” Yuu grinned, playing with the chocolate wrapper.

“Oh come on, don’t sound so smug about it,” Ace mumbled, stuffing his hands into the pockets on his uniform pants, hunching his shoulders. He couldn’t manage to look at her, but that didn’t stop him from speaking again in a quiet voice.

“...Maybe I do. Hypothetically. You know, whatever, it’s not a big deal, alright?”

“Uh huh,” Yuu raised her eyebrows, her grin widening.

“Hush, you,” Ace shot back quickly, looking up to glare at her. “Don’t look so— so smug!”

His ears were definitely turning pink; a fact that was only made more obvious with some strands of fiery hair falling over them. “I can’t believe out of the two of us, you’re the one making me feel flustered.”

“Sure, pretty boy,” Yuu chuckled, placing the box of chocolate down.

“You—”

Ace choked on the rest of his sentence as he was called that. Heat flared up his neck into his face, turning his skin absolutely scarlet. How the hell did she say these things so easily?

“God, you’re the worst, you know that?” He turned away, facing the opposite wall and stubbornly refusing to look at Yuu. No one deserved to see how utterly embarrassed he was right now.

Yuu let out a small giggle, standing up and popping a piece of chocolate into his mouth.

“Hey, what—”

Ace was in the middle of protesting before the chocolate was suddenly in his mouth. He spluttered for a moment, though finally giving in because hey, free chocolate.

“Damn it- stop giggling like that. You’re enjoying this too much,” he grumbled through a mouthful of chocolate. He still wasn’t looking at her.

“Never. Would you rather me feed it to you mouth to mouth, then?”

Ace sputtered and choked on the piece of chocolate he had in his mouth. He coughed to try and regain his ability to speak, but all he managed to do was turn bright red, sputter some more, and look absolutely flabbergasted.

“Actually—since you’re so judgemental about my mountain of chocolates I can’t even eat, what would you do? What kind of date would you plan? I might actually agree depending on how much I like that idea—who knows.” Yuu grinned, giving him a small wink.

The sheer confidence and sass in her voice stunned Ace all over again. He couldn’t help but just stand there, gaping at Yuu in surprise. Though, eventually he managed to pull himself together, a sly smile overtaking his face.

“Is that a challenge, sweetheart? I’ll have you falling to my feet by the end of that date. Just wait.”

“...sweetheart?” Yuu blinked twice, her smirk completely wiped off. Her turn to be flustered, I guess.

A sense of triumph flared up in Ace’s chest upon seeing her suddenly-dumbfounded expression. “What’s that look for? Got flustered, didn’t you? Didn’t think you’d get all shy.”

A sly smirk was still splayed across his face, taking a step closer to Yuu to admire her face more.

“Shut it. What do you have planned for this date, anyway?” Yuu huffed, scooting back with her chair, trying to change the subject.

“I thought you wanted to know how much you’d like it after I suggested a date, hm?” Ace teased, taking note of how Yuu were suddenly avoiding eye contact, and that sweet, flustered look on her face. He chuckled, resting his hands by her chair, caging Yuu in and effectively keeping her from scooting away.

“...whatever…j-just—tell me what you have planned, Ace.”

He’s got her trapped and flustered. Ace’s smirk widened, reaching out to grab one of her hands.

“Alright, I’ll tell you,” Ace leaned down and lowered his voice into a murmur. “But before I do, can I ask you something?”

“Sure…”

He moved his free hand to gently grab her chin, tilting her head up to look into her eyes. “You’d be willing to go on a date with me, even if it’s going to be really, really cheesy?”

Yuu shrugged. “Why not? Sounds fun.”

Ace studied Yuu’s face for a moment, a fond look in his eyes. Eventually, that smirk returned, releasing your chin. “Alright. I guess I shouldn’t be asking. Of course you’d be up for a sappy cheesy date.”

He stood up straight and let go of her hand in favor of crossing his arms. “My plan? I’m taking you to an amusement park.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ace was practically bouncing with excitement by the time the two of them got there. Like a little kid, if anything. As he walked beside Yuu, he pointed at different parts of the park they both passed by.

“I’m gonna win you the biggest plushie they have. Then I’m gonna buy you a bunch of shitty snacks from all the vendors. And to top it all off, I’m gonna make you try all the rides here, even if you’re scared of heights.”

“Ah shit, I knew I forgot something…”

Ace stopped in his tracks, spinning around to give Yuu a questioning look. “Huh? Forgot something? What are you talking about?”

Yuu swallowed. “...my motion sickness medicine.”

Ace stared at her for a moment, a bewildered look on his face. He let out a low groan and facepalmed. “You’re kidding, right? You’re seriously telling me you forgot to take your motion sickness medicine to an amusement park?”

Yuu looked down guiltily, her head hanging low as she fiddled with her thumbs. “...I’m sorry,” she bit her lip, her voice quiet as she murmured an apology.

If it weren’t for the fact that she looked like a pitiful baby animal, he’d be very pissed off right now. Ace was prepared to be annoyed at her forgetfulness, he really was. But the moment he laid eyes on Yuu and saw that dejected, kicked-puppy-like look on her face, all of that annoyance melted away.

“Damn it, why’d you have to look so pathetic? You're making it hard to be made at you, you know that?” He sighed loudly.

“...excuse me?” Yuu looked up, meeting his eyes—her own narrowing.

Ace chuckled nervously. Looks like he had to backtrack after that one.

“Hold on, hold on, that didn’t come out right…” He raised his hands in a placating gesture. “I meant ‘pathetic’ in an endearing way. You know, like when a puppy makes a mess and they stare up at you looking all sad and guilty? You’re looking at me just like that.”

“Oh good,” Yuu pushed her hands into her own pockets. “Well…what now?”

Ace paused for a moment, looking pensive as he thought of something through. “Hmm…Well, I guess the question is, how bad is your motion sickness? Like, can you even handle the small rides, or is it like, as soon as you walk into a park it all goes downhill?”

“I mean, I haven’t thrown up yet from the sight of a roller coaster. So, I think I can do small or calm rides.”

Ace nodded and exhaled a small sigh of relief. “Alright, that’s good. That means you can still somewhat enjoy the park.”

He leaned forward to sling an arm around Yuu’s shoulders, drawing her closer. “C’mon, I know what we should do first.”

“Oh?”

Ace flashed Yuu a smile before pulling her along. “First, we win you a plushie. I’m good at these carnival games, so it shouldn’t take too long to win a decent prize.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the two of them approached the first little game area, Ace stopped and pointed up at the hanging prizes.

“Pick which one you want. And don’t say you don’t care, just choose one. I’m gonna win it for you.”

“That one,” Yuu smiled, pointing up at a plush of a mix of some duck-fish hybrid thing. “It looks incredibly stupid, but I want it.”

Ace followed where she was pointing, letting out a laugh at the sight of the plushie she’d chosen. That thing was an absolute abomination.

“You’ve got a weird taste in plushes. But fine. You want the stupid fish-duck? I’ll win it for you.”

She let out a happy squeak, watching Ace pay for a chance to play. He accepted the game equipment from the person running the game, immediately getting to work. From the start, his eyes were laser-focused. He was incredibly determined to win Yuu the ugliest plush the park had, by God.

He worked through the game with impressive skill. His accuracy was excellent, his aim never once deviating far from the intended target. A small crowd even started to form as he continued to play, a few kids gathered around, marveling at how many points he was getting.

As he finally finished and set the equipment aside, he raked in an impressive amount of points. Almost more than any other player. The person running the game smiled and picked up one of the largest prizes, holding it out to him.

“Not bad, kid. You sure you don’t want to pick something bigger?”

Ace shook his head. “Nah, I’ve only got my eye set on one thing,” he replied, holding out his arms in a ‘gimme’ gesture. The person shrugged, handing over the fish-duck plush. It was absolutely hideous, just like Yuu had wanted.

Yuu smiled, squeaking happily as she took the plush when he offered. “Thanks, Ace,” she giggled, hugging the stupid looking plush tightly close to her chest.

Ace’s heart almost melted at the cute sound Yuu made. It was completely unfair that she could be so adorable and not even realize it. He gave an amused huff, smiling down at Yuu as she squeezed that ugly plush.

“You know, I don’t know whether to be upset or just accept that you’ve got a really weird taste.”

Yuu shrugged. “I’m stupid looking and I love it.”

Ace chuckled, shaking his head as he watched her practically coo over the plushie in her arms.

“Yeah, you’ve definitely got a weird taste,” He reached over to ruffle her hair fondly. “You’re a really strange girl, you know that?”

“Well, you’re the one that took this ‘strange girl’ out on this date in the first place.” Yuu tilted her head, squeezing the duck-fish plush once more.

Ace smirked, crossing his arms and leaning closer. “Hey, I never said I was opposed to it. If I was, we wouldn’t be here,” He flicked the corner of the plush’s wing.

“Though this thing is a testament to your weird taste in stuff. Like seriously, if that’s the most hideous thing you’ve chosen, then there’s no telling how more of your life choices could be just as weird…but I guess that’s part of your charm.” He commented, his gaze softening. That smirk slid into a smile, taking a moment to just look at her.

“Anyway—” Yuu tucked the plush under her arm. “---I wanna go on the ferris wheel.”

Ace had been admiring how she looked while holding her plush just now. Yuu was just way too cute to be legal. At her words, he jerked out of his mini-trance, clearing his throat and putting on another playful smirk.

“Oh, you want the ‘romantic cliche ride’, huh?”

“Well, actually I was going for rides that won’t make me throw up, but that works too.”

Ace barked out a laugh at her response, amused and a little bit incredulous. This girl just didn’t miss a beat, did she?

“I see. So a slow ride that goes in circles is the only thing you can really stand to tolerate. I think that qualifies as ‘boring’.”

“Look, either ‘boring’ or get covered in my own vomit. Pick your poison,” Yuu stuck her tongue out for a moment, giving the head of the duck-fish plush a gentle pat.

“Alright, alright, fine, you win,” Ace rolled his eyes, a fond smirk on his face. This girl never failed to amuse him, that was for sure. “Come on. Let’s go to the ferris wheel.”

He reached out and grabbed Yuu’s free hand, intertwining his fingers with hers as he began walking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ace sat next to Yuu, watching the sun gradually set over the horizon. His hand was still holding onto hers, and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. This was surprisingly nice. He’d have to admit, going on dates like this usually wasn’t his cup of tea…but he could get used to it when it was with Yuu.

“This is really nice…” Yuu looked down at the park in awe. Seeing people down there, enjoying themselves made her smile.

“Pretty too,” She added, watching the lights of the park turn on, somehow making the place look more picturesque. Yuu squeezed the ugly ass plush, feeling content as they began to descend.

Ace nodded in agreement. The view really was quite pretty up here. He leaned against Yuu a bit, looking down over the railing at the people below. He could just barely make out what they looked like in the growing darkness.

“Yeah. This really isn’t too boring after all.”

He smirked and lifted his free hand to tap the weird plushie under your arm. “See? That thing’s not too bad after all. It makes an excellent armrest.”

Yuu gasped dramatically. “Okay, for one, you were the one calling this duck-fish plush ugly. And two—how dare you use Jeremy as an armrest!”

Ace let out a laugh at her reaction. He couldn’t help it, that was just way too funny.

“‘Jeremy’?!” He repeated, his eyes shining with amusement. “You gave it a name?!”

Yuu failed to hold back a smile. “Of course I did. For the record, his pronouns are he/him, not it. Jeremy is my child now.”

Ace snorted as she started talking like the plush was actually a real creature. He reached out to pat the top of the plush’s head once, more for the humor of it than anything else.

“Alright, alright…I apologize. I’ll make sure to address this little guy properly. He is quite hideous, and is the fruit of your strange tastes.”

Yuu rolled her eyes, but there was no real malice intent to it. “Stop insulting my baby, Ace.”

Ace chuckled, shaking his head and raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, fine, I’ll stop. You’re right, your baby is perfect in every way.”

He reached out to pat the top of the stupid thing’s head again, this time in a more genuine manner. He was doing his best to keep his tone serious, but the corner of his mouth was twitching with the effort of keeping back a smirk.

“Better,” Yuu smiled, kissing Ace’s cheek as a reward for being nicer to the abomination of a plush.

Ace’s face turned a bit red as Yuu kissed his cheek. Now that was just unfair. She’d flustered him in one move. He averted his gaze and cleared his throat, hoping that she didn’t notice. Of all the times to lose his composure, it had to be right now.

“R-right, yeah,” he replied, his response coming out a bit more stilted than usual. He quickly recovered his composure, fixing you with a smirk to cover up his momentary lapse in confidence. “Whatever you say, babe.”

Yuu smiled at the pet name, going back to playing with the stupid duck-fish thing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As they walked from the ride, Ace watched as Yuu continued playing with her new weird plushie. He was starting to think that thing might get more attention than he did, if this went o n any longer.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, giving Yuu a side-glance. He didn’t even really think about it before the words came out of his mouth. “...Hey, you’re not gonna end up replacing me with that thing, are you?”

Yuu raised an eyebrow and titled her head. “Are you jealous of Jeremy?” She chuckled with a small grin.

“I’m not jealous of that hideous thing,” Ace sputtered, his cheeks turning slightly pink. He crossed his arms over his chest, fixing Yuu with a half-hearted glare. “It’s just you’ve been giving it more attention than you’ve been giving me.”

That, and the fact she’d called it her ‘baby’ and given it a name—but he left that part unsaid.

Yuu giggled, using her free hand to reach out and grab one of his, squeezing it gently. “It’s okay, Ace. You’re irreplaceable.”

Ace huffed, but her words and the way she squeezed his hand helped to ease the uneasy feeling in his chest. He grumbled in slight embarrassment as he replied, a bit of a half-hearted pout on his face. “...You’d better remember that. You’re stuck with me,” He grumbled, giving Yuu’s hand a small squeeze back.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Ace stopped walking momentarily, making Yuu stop along with him. He used this opportunity to pull her in, wrapping his arms around her waist and trapping her against his chest.

He leaned down to bury his face in the crook of her neck, his voice coming out in a low, somewhat muffled grumble. “You’re mine.”

Ace had zero shame when it came to stuff like this. If he wanted to hold Yuu, he was going to hold her. And if she happened to be standing in the middle of the park, so be it. He just wrapped his arms around her tighter, letting himself get lost in her presence for a moment. He lifted his head up so he could speak, his voice a low murmur. “...promise me you won’t forget that, ‘kay?”

Yuu chuckled, tucking the plush under her arm and hugging him back—just as tightly. “I promise.”

Ace hummed in approval, squeezing you a little bit tighter again—not that he really needed to. At this point, this was just him being clingy, but he couldn’t really help it at this point. He was still feeling a bit…jealous, as ridiculous as it sounded.

“...Good,” he mumbled, hiding his face in the crook of Yuu’s neck again in an attempt to hide his expression from view. He was just being a little bit more clingy than usual tonight, was all. It just couldn’t be helped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ace and Yuu stood side by side, watching the fireworks go off in the night sky. He had one arm wrapped around her, his hand lightly holding onto her waist. He was leaning ever so slightly against her, his gaze fixated on the sky. He had a small smile on his face, the colors of the fireworks lighting up his face.

He had to admit, he wasn’t one for sappy, romantic things like these. But tonight, he found himself enjoying these kind of things a bit more than usual.

“...Hey, Ace?” Yuu looked up at him.

Ace shifted his gaze, away from the night sky and over to Yuu. “Yeah? What is it, babe?”

“...I love you.”

Ace’s eyes widened slightly in surprise at her sudden confession. He hadn’t been expecting that. In fact, it almost seemed like his heart had skipped a beat.

For a brief moment, the ever-cocky boy was stunned speechless. He quickly shook himself out of it, wrapping his arms around Yuu. He pulled her flush against his chest, and returned the declaration. “...Yeah, yeah, I love you too, dork.”

“...and, if you’re going to love me, you know who else you have to love?” Yuu snickered, unable to hold back a grin.

Ace blinked, having an odd suspicion about what she was going to say. He shifted his gaze down at the hideous blue thing tucked under her arm, responding with a flat, deadpan tone.

“Please don’t say the plushie.”

“Your new son,” Yuu laughed, holding up the duck-fish plushie.

Ace huffed, a deadpan expression on his face. He was sorely tempted to roll his eyes, but he managed to restrain himself. He let out a small grumble of protest, before replying in a flat tone. “We are not reffering to that hideous, ugly ass thing as my ‘son’.”

“Too bad,” Yuu grinned, patting it on the head.

Ace gumbled again, narrowing his eyes at the ugly plushie that Yuu adored for some odd reason.

“...I hate that thing,” He mumbled, his words carrying equal parts annoyance and jealousy.

Yuu shrugged, leaning her head on his chest and looking back up at the fireworks. “Even if you hate it, I’m glad you won it for me.”

Ace grumbled again, begrudgingly wrapping his arms around you once more. Even if he’d never admit it, he liked having her close to him like this. He buried his face into her hair, continuing to steal the occasional glance at the stupid, hideous plushies that he’d gotten for Yuu. Even if it was ugly as hell, it was the cause of the stupidly happy expression on her face, and that was good enough for him.

“...Whatever.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ace was walking alongside Yuu, one of his arms wrapped around her shoulders. He was taking his time when she suddenly stopped and pointed at a candy shop.

He raised an eyebrow, following the path of her finger to where she was pointing. A candy store. Figures.

“What, do you need even more sugar after all that cotton candy you ate earlier?”

“No, I just want to get quality chocolate. Not the mountain of crappy ones I can’t even eat back at Ramshackle.”

Ace let out a huff, an amused smirk on his face. “Quality chocolate, huh? Are you some kind of expert on it or something?” He teased, giving Yuu a small nudge.

“Shut up. I just want to freely enjoy chocolate that won’t potentially kill me, Ace.”

Ace let out an acknowledging hum, shrugging his shoulders. “Fair enough,” he responded, shifting his gaze to the shop Yuu was pointing at. He gave the place a quick glance, noting with mild surprise that it was a higher-end shop that the usual stores.

“Alright, let’s go,” Ace said, giving Yuu a small nudge towards the shop. He released Yuu from his hold, immediately taking her hand instead, intertwining his fingers with hers as he lead her towards the shop. Even if this was for Yuu, he had no intention of letting her wander off.

The two of them entered the store, immediately surrounded by rich smells of chocolate.

Ace had to admit, this place might be a bit above his price range, but he had a bit of money saved up, and well—he did sort of promise to pay for everything tonight. He didn’t really mind that much.

Yuu got a small, simple bag of chocolates, it being a variety of white, milk and dark—some with caramel, some without.

Ace stood by her side, watching her look through the different kinds of chocolate the store had to offer. He was admittedly surprised at the simplicity of the bag she’d picked out, having thought that she would choose the most expensive ones. But instead, she’d gone with something smaller and a bit more modest. He raised an eyebrow, slightly puzzled by her voice.

“That’s it? Just that one?”

“Yeah. I don’t want you to spend too much on me. It makes me feel bad.”

Ace raised an eyebrow once more, huffing and shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous, you know that? Don’t worry about how much stuff costs, I can handle it. I don’t mind spending money on you.”

“You sure?”

Ace rolled his eyes and waved a dismissive hand. “Yeah, yeah, of course. I just told you not to worry about it, didn’t I?” he responded, his tone a bit more exasperated. Honestly, Yuu worried about this kind of thing way too much…

“If you say so,” Yuu smiled, giving the hideous plushie a squeeze and Ace a peck on the cheek.

He huffed, but a small smile quickly came to his face nonetheless. His cheeks flushed a little when she kissed him, bringing a hand up to his cheek to make sure that wasn’t a permanent mark or something. He then shook his head, muttering as small grumble. “You’re way too troublesome, y’know that?”

“Says you,” Yuu chuckled, bringing the bag of chocolates up to the cashier.

Ace rolled his eyes, refraining from making any retort. He simply watched as Yuu placed the chocolates on the counter

Of course, he couldn’t wait too long before eventually opening his mouth once more, an amused smirk coming to his face as he was paying. “You know, if you wanted something even better than some ordinary chocolates, I could probably give you something better.”

“Oh?” Yuu took her bag of chocolates, thanking the cashier before leaving the store with him.

Ace followed you out of the store, a cheeky grin on his face. “Yeah. I bet my kisses taste way better than chocolates.”

Yuu’s eyes widened for a moment, a faint blush dusting her cheeks before she composed herself, putting on a smile. “I bet.”

Once he saw her initial reaction, a devious smirk quickly spread across Ace’s face. Ah, so he’d caught her of guard for once… He liked seeing those sorts of reactions from her. It was cute.

He leaved in closer, his face close to hers as he wrapped an arm around her waist. “I can prove it, if you want.”

Yuu giggled. “I don’t think I would mind.”

Ace’s smirk turned into a grin, and he chuckled. “Good,” He pulled you close to him, and brought one of his hands up to her cheek. His fingers gently traced over her skin, running his thumb over her lips.

He leaned in closer, his lips a few inches away from hers. For a brief moment, he just studied her eyes and face, admiring the way she looked up at him with such anticipation.

He smirked again, finally closing the gap between them two. His hand moved to the back of Yuu’s head, tilting it slightly as he placed his lips against hers. Ace’s eyes fell shut, beginning to kiss her.

Ace’s kisses were gentle, yet confident and possessive. His hand on her cheek was firm but not rough, and he used that to pull her closer. The world around her seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of them.

Yuu pulled away, letting out a content sigh as she did so. “...we should go; it’s getting late. You wouldn’t want Riddle to collar you again, would you?”

Ace rolled his eyes at the mention of Riddle, unable to help but grimace a little at the thought of receiving another of the housewarden’s infamous disciplinary actions.

“Ugh, you’re right,” he muttered. He wasn’t too pleased about ending the night early, though he didn’t want to get collared, either.

“Come on, Jeremy is getting tired,” Yuu grinned, pulling away as she held up her plushie.

Ace grumbled again, giving the plushie another disgusted look. “You need to stop calling that thing ‘Jeremy’,” he replied, his tone flat.

“When pigs fly,” Yuu stuck out her tongue, taking his hand and walking to the exit of the amusement park.

Ace rolled his eyes again, a small grumble of protest escaping from his throat. God, how in the world did that hideous plushie end up winning him over, yet again? He really was a hopeless case…

He didn’t utter another word of protest as Yuu took hold of his hand and lead him out of the park, though. As annoying as that hideous thing was, it made her happy, and that was good enough for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eventually, the two made it back to Ramshackle. Ace took a quick look at the rundown dorm, wrinkling his nose slightly.

“Man, why does it look even more pathetic at night?” he grimaced, before walking up the steps to the front door.

Yuu rolled her eyes and shook her head, opening the door and stepping inside alongside Ace.

Ace followed close behind Yuu and closed the door behind him. He looked around the familiar yet outdated interior, still not entirely fond of the appearance. Of course, he was grateful that she was at least letting him stay here, so he knew better than to be disrespectful about it.

He let go of her hand and slumped down on the couch, sprawling himself out across it.

Yuu momentarily set her plush down on the counter beside her goodie bag of chocolates. “You want one?” she offered, popping a caramel filled milk chocolate piece into her mouth before getting to work and throwing away the mountain of the crappy, nut-included chocolates from students in her class.

Ace watched her as she tossed the pile of cheap chocolates into the trash, a slightly amused smirk on his face. He shook his head as he let out a small huff of laughter, silently mocking her earlier statement that she didn’t want him spending too much money on her.

“Sure, give me one. Might as well check if they taste as horrible as they look.”

Yuu raised an eyebrow. “I meant the ones you bought me from the amusement park—not these shitty ones. I don’t want you to get food poisoning or something.”

Ace rolled his eyes and scoffed dismissively, though he was inwardly relieved that he didn’t have to sample the cheap chocolates.

“Oh, right,” he responded, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He then shrugged, propping himself up on his elbows. “Well go on. I paid for those, so I should at least get a taste test.”

Yuu chuckled and rolled her eyes, looking inside the bag. “Which one do you want? White, milk or dark?”

Ace thought about it for a moment, before ultimately shrugging. “Doesn’t matter too much to me. As long as it doesn’t taste like dirt,” he replied, then adding, “I’ll take dark. It always tastes the richest.”

Yuu pulled out a dark chocolate piece, unwrapping it while walking over to the couch and feeding it to him.

Ace leaned forward, a bit to accept the chocolate into his mouth, his eyes falling shut briefly once it was fully inside. He began to chew it, unable to help but let out a small satisfied hum.

After swallowing, he looked back up at Yuu and smirked. “Tastes better than the cheap stuff, I’ll give you that.”

Yuu suddenly smirked, a light bulb going off over her head. “You want another?”

Ace’s smirk grew, his eyebrows raising up slightly. He had an inkling of where this was going, but he still played along. “Depends. Are you going to feed me this one, too?”

“Eh, sort of~”

Ace smirked again, his curiosity heightened by her response. He leaned forward a bit more, keeping his eyes on her.

“Care to explain what else you’ve got in mind, then?”

Yuu let out a giggle, unwrapping another piece of chocolate and placinging half of it in her mouth, holding it with her front teeth.

Ace raised an eyebrow in slight confusion, but then it dawned on him what she was getting at. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, a small huff of laughter escaping them.

He was going to get a repeat of that kiss from earlier, only this time it had chocolate involved.

He shifted a little closer to Yuu, his eyes fixed on hers. “Is this your attempt at winning me over, with fancy French chocolate kisses?”

Yuu gave a firm nod with a hum, leaning down closer to him.

Ace smirked again and reached out to grab her waist, gently tugging her down on top of him. He settled down on the couch, his back flat against the cushions, his back flat against the cushions and Yuu lying on top of him.

“You’re lucky I like this kind of bribery…” he said, his tone low but playful.

He didn’t give Yuu a chance to response. Instead, he pressed his lips against hers, kissing Yuu eagerly. His fingers gripped her waist, starting to gently guide her so that she was straddling him.

Yuu used this chance to push the piece of chocolate into his mouth with her tongue.

Ace’s eyes were shut at first, focused on only her lips against his. Then he felt the chocolate piece being pushed into his mouth, parting his lips a little more to let it fully in.

He quickly began to chew and swallow it, all the while keeping his lips in constant contact with hers. Then he broke away for a moment, his smirk returning as he spoke. “Tastes even better that way,” he commented, before diving back in, kissing Yuu again.

credit to @cafekitsune for divider

#athena fics #twisted wonderland #twst #twst yuu #ace trappola #twst ace #ace x yuu

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where-fading-princesses-live · 3 days ago

Text

Thoughts on WICKED (2024)

So I finally saw WICKED after procrastinating after its opening weekend. I wanted to wait a bit longer (as excited as I was to see it) because I knew the theaters were going to be packed (they were) and my friend and I got tickets at the last minute before they sold out for that day’s showing. I’ve been a fan of the musical since childhood and I loved the books as a teen and I knew they were making a movie (or talking about it) since I was in middle school. Well it was worth the wait.

I admit the first teaser trailer did not impress me (it looked too much like a spectacle and some of the CGI effects looked over the top and corny). I was going to see it anyway but my initial expectations were low. but the later trailers were better and I was getting more excited to see it. Well the movie did not disappoint. Though I’m a big fan of WICKED, the movie was better than I expected. I definitely want to see it again (preferably at home with less people even tho the movie was made for the big screen, especially with all the tiny details I didn’t notice before when viewing TV spots and clips on my phone and laptop… ) I’d rather watch it on the big screen BUT.

My enjoyment of the movie was almost completely ruined because of the people… no one sang along, thank God, but there were so many distractions and now I remember why I haven’t been to a movie theatre in years. not only did so many people come in late and have to climb over you to get to their seats, but the person sitting next to me whipped out their phone in the middle of the movie and started texting, plus their bright ass screen was so distracting (rude much?). Worst of all, one person thought it was a good idea to drag along their noisy toddlers who kept asking over and over ‘’when’s the movie going to start’’ during the previews, and even when the movie DID start, the kids could not sit still throughout the movie and kept loudly asking their parents for ‘’skittles’’ like I wanted to turn around and tell them to keep their kids quiet or leave. FINALLY they got up and left for good before the Emerald city part, like goddamn if your kids aren’t mature enough to sit through a 2 ½ movie, don’t ruin it for the rest of us. >_<

That being said, I still enjoyed the movie, and you bet your sweet Oz there was a round of applause after it was over, I mean it was THAT good. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been to a movie where the audience clapped at the end. I think maybe ‘’The Artist’’ back in 2011… which won Best Picture at the Oscars that year. That was a damn good movie, prolly the last one I saw in theaters. I knew WICKED was going to be a big; it’s one of the longest-running shows on Broadway with almost daily record box office sales; its fan base is like Harry Potter-levels huge, so I guess it’s impact was long overdue. Better late than never.

here’s some quick thoughts (I literally have not stopped thinking about it and I saw it about a week ago… suffice to say, I’m obsessed):

The Costumes!!!

So at first I hated Glinda’s bubble dress. I thought it looked cheap compared to the Broadway costume (my dream dress btw) but overtime the design grew on me…

I have no issues with the dress being pink (after all, the non-replica Brazil production did a pink gown).

I still think the Broadway bubble dress is prettier (esp. the way it sparkles and glitters in the stage lighting and I love the blue color… Susan Hilferty was very original with her designs) but I do like the movie costume being a slight nod to the 1939 Wizard of Oz, plus it looks like a quinceañera dress.

I would’ve preferred the dress with puff sleeves, or off the shoulder cap sleeves for modesty, but one detail I really love that is not noticeable unless you’re watching on the big screen is that Glinda has butterfly gems on her shoulders (literally the first time I noticed it was in the movie theatre).

It’s such a nice detail because butterflies seem to be her theme, as a nod to the butterfly choker necklace Billie Burke wears as Glinda.

I actually do like Paul Tazewell as a costume designer. He also did the costumes for ‘’Death Becomes Her’’ on Broadway; his designs are very unusual and elaborate and I loved his visions for Oz.

That being said, I pretty much love Galinda’s whole wardrobe at Shiz (some people complained that they ‘’Barbie-fied Galinda’’ because her style lacks variety esp. when she wears the same color scheme throughout the whole movie) and tho it’s true I’d like to see her in different colors (we will in PART 2), I do think the pink was a nice symbolism. Her Ozdust ballroom dress is esp. unique. (I do like how the dress in the stage show was originally blue to hint at her becoming Glinda the Good Witch; basically she and Elphaba looked like mini versions of their future Witches counterparts… then they changed the dress to pink, so the symbolism was lost).

and it was nice the movie went back to that. So now it makes sense that the bubble dress is pink.

My only complaint is Elphaba’s costumes. Don’t get me wrong—they’re gorgeous—but I’m not sure the designs really reflect her character arc. Costumes aren’t just meant to be pretty… they are literally telling a story, and illustrating the growth of a character. Sometimes characters have to be dressed in something more appropriate for the purpose of the setting and where they’re at in the narrative even if it isn’t the prettiest garment off the rack… it’s not just about looking their best, and I think Paul Tazwell missed this mark. He clearly wanted Elphaba to be a fashion queen—but that’s not her character.

In the musical, Elphaba appears semi-frumpy on purpose. She’s beautiful but insecure due to her skin color and so she covers up in a bulky blazer, she braids her long hair, and wears a cap over her head, as though she is attempting to draw the least bit of attention to herself.

No one recognizes her inner beauty because she lacks the self-confidence to be herself. In the movie, she first appears to us in a beautiful black corset dress with puff sleeves and buttons (Cynthia is absolutely stunning and kills this look) but I’m not sure if Elphaba should look so drop-dead gorgeous when we first meet her (plus she’s fixing her hair in the first shot and it seems so OOC for her… I know Cynthia’s version is softer and more vulnerable than the Broadway version, who’s a bit bold and sarcastic and self-defensive… but Elphie fixing her braid? Not that it’s vain but her hair is the least of her worries in the stage show). And the dress… like I said… much too pretty. I do love her glasses tho.. and I do like the Gothic fashion... it reminds me of A Series of Unfortunate Events... the first dress is just too pretty for a character introduction. I'd like to see her wear this later in the film...

Maybe it wasn’t the intent… the dress is old-fashioned and could be ‘’spinsterish’’ to some, but she looks far from frumpy. Elphaba is already naturally beautiful, but in the stage version she doesn’t undergo an outward physical transformation until after the Ozdust ballroom scene. In the movie, she’s dressed fashionably all the time… and looks beautiful outside and inside. her Shiz uniforms are not Galinda, oh, sure, but she looks incredible in these form-fitting pinstripe suits with these flamboyant shoulder pads, and I feel it doesn’t match Elphaba’s story at all… she’s supposed to be hiding at the beginning of the story (I don’t think you’d catch Broadway Elphaba dead in pinstripes and shoulder pads). Galinda in the show helps bring her out of her shell. But even her Ozdust dress in the movie is a knock out… with the black lace and everything. In the musical, she just wears her plain uniform frock to the dance because she has nothing else.

The movie doesn’t have to copy the stage show exactly, but yeah… I wanted to see Elphaba go through a transformation in her fashions. I wanted to see her start dressing prettier towards the end of the movie, after ‘’Popular’’… like, see, her inner beauty was always there, and it makes her beautiful on the outside too! but she was already dressing pretty and fashionable before that, so it lessens the impact it’s supposed to have as the other students slowly begin to accept her. and after ‘’Popular’’, Elphaba is seen wearing this outfit she wears earlier in the film. Only difference being her hair is not braided, so she really doesn’t look ‘’Galinda-fied’’ to me as the line suggests (she was already ''Galinda-fied'').

In the musical it’s more apparent when she goes to looking like this (something she’s never worn before and doesn’t fit her typical style):

Again, it’s just a minor gripe I had. They probably wanted Elphie’s ‘’make over’’ to be more subtle which is fine… like Elphaba is ALWAYS beautiful… but still.

Nessarose’s Ozdust dress was actually one of my faves in the whole movie. She truly looked like the Belle of the Ball. I love that she’s wearing a poppy necklace…

And those big doe eye of hers... I'M DEAD

If Galinda is butterflies, Nessa’s whole theme seems to be poppies. AND THESE SHOES ARE FIRE I want them and I want the dress. There I said it.

Also her dance with Boq is my favorite scene in the whole movie. It was always my favorite part in ''Dancing Through Life'' and it's so wholesome... knowing how tragic this ends for them both (the rehearsal footage was admittedly better but they both ate and left no crumbs)... give the choreographer all the awards.

As for the other characters, I like the Shiz uniforms and that they maintained the variety and individualisms from the stage show. I kind of wish Fiyero was dressed in something that stood out more. He doesn’t wear his Shiz uniform until after ‘’Popular’’ in the stage version. We first meet him in a riding outfit (he kind of wears a riding outfit when he runs into Elphaba in the movie… but not a bold red one… and red seems to be Fiyero’s color… it fits him better than blue but that's just my opinion).

If it was my choice, I would’ve dressed all the main characters in different outfits and/or colors that stand out from the rest. In the stage version, Galinda and Elphie are technically still dressed in uniforms, but they wear a solid color—Galinda in all cream/ white and Elphie in all navy blue—so they stand out.

I like that they kept this in the movie (only Galinda being in pastel pink tones and Elphie in all black).

Fiyero, Boq, and Nessa should’ve been color coded too. Yes, Boq and Nessa in the stage show wear similar uniforms to everyone else, but they have little details that make them stand out (for instance, Nessa has this headband, and Boq has this little red hat that later productions added… it didn’t exist in the original production, but the costumes kind of evolved over time). I still like Boq’s uniform in the movie (esp. the shoes). I do kind of miss his white boots from the stage show, tho (RIP Boq’s cute white boots).

Unfortunately in the movie they had so many people dressed like Boq that he disappeared into the background, but maybe that was for a reason? Boq is a wallflower; we're not supposed to notice him. I get it. He still should've had something to signify him... a hat, maybe. These sweater vests are sick tho... where can I get one?

The Cast!!!

Ariana and Cynthia of course nailed it. I was skeptical of the casting when it was first announced but they proved me wrong and they were the perfect choices. No one could have played Galinda and Elphaba better. I usually don’t like pop stars in musical movies… I prefer classically trained theatre actors, but since Ari does have a musical theatre background, she ended up surprising me more than anyone else in the cast (esp. where it concerns her operatic notes. I say that because tho I’m familiar with her on 13! the musical, she was terribly miscast as Penny in Hairspray Live! She did not disappear into the role… she was basically playing herself) and I was deathly afraid she would popify the hell out of Galinda. Well, she understood the assignment, she really became Galinda. So props to her.

Not gonna lie. The whole cast was phenomenal but Dr. Dillamond (voiced by Peter Dinklage) was my favorite part in the whole movie. I love the scene where Elphaba takes him by the hoof. She was so compassionate and you really feel her heartbreak when he's arrested. Yeah the CGI goat was the best actor I just loved him.

😭😭😭

Fiyero is the Arjiki prince (who was a very minor character in the book and, in my humble opinion, is the least interesting character in the book and the musical), made that much worse when he's traditionally whitewashed… because he was a dark-skinned black man in the book… sure some black actors have played him on stage but I had a feeling they’d cast a white actor in the movie… part of me wished they casted a black actor... well, at least he gets a cool song. HOWEVER I really did love Jonathan Bailey’s portrayal. He wasn’t bland like some of the other actors who’ve played him, and though he’s prince charming good looking, he’s also incredibly funny. I was not expecting to laugh so much at his entrance. Yeah, I liked Fiyero more in the movie. He’s still not my favorite character but hopefully he gets a big meaty part in PART 2. Is it wrong I never shipped Fiyero/ Elphaba? I always thought their chemistry was so boring and forced. Wicked was always a love story between two women anyway. I totally ship Elphaba and Galinda (it’s canon in the book anyway). I loved the scene where Galinda and Elphaba run out of the ozdust ballroom together hand-in-hand and literally leave Fiyero biting the dust.

----

(SPOILER ALERT: That’s how the story should have ended. Who needs a man right? Let the witches be lesbians… a house falls on Nessa, so Boq could end up with Fiyero (since the women they love are in love with each other) let Fiyero be bisexual (Jonathan’s Fiyero already radiates bisexual energy because all the women AND men were falling in love with him). Let him be bi and hit on Boq (Tincrow fans come get your food… you can’t convince me they’re straight). Elphie and Glinda get their happy ending. Problem solved. Everyone’s happy.)

Nessa was awesome. She’s a character everyone loves to hate, but yeah, I wish she was in the movie more. Marissa Bode ATE

---

(SPOILER ALERT: In Part 2, she will becomes more Wicked when she assumes the position of the tyrannical Eminence of Munchkinland. Owing to her brutal religious persecution, we'll do well to remember her as the infamous ''Wicked Witch of the East.'' I love me a badass female villain).

---

Speaking of badass female villains, Michelle Yeoh absolutely COOKED as Madame Morrible, and her costumes were more beautiful on the big screen. Part of me wanted Kristin Chenoweth to play Madame Morrible… she slayed as Velma Von Tussle in Hairspray Live! Her rendition of ‘’(The Legend Of) Miss Baltimore Crabs’’ was seriously gas. She plays a very convincing villain, but then they’d have to write her a villain song (not that I’m complaining). Michelle may not be a singer, but she was so quietly sinister as Madame Morrible… I loved her.

I personally wanted more Bowen Yang in the supporting cast (specifically flirting with Fiyero).

Despite the haters (and say what you will), but Ethan Slater was perfectly cast as Boq Woodsman aka the Munchkin Boy. Despite unpopular opinion, I wish he was in the movie more. When I read the book, he looks almost exactly like how I pictured him (mop of curly hair, freckles…). Boq was blonde in the book if I remember correctly, and he wore glasses… so my vision of him was a blonde Daniel Radcliffe… but honestly, the red hair works so well (even better than blonde). And I love that they ended up basing the Munchkins’ look off of Ethan. They all had red curly hair. That was a cool detail.

Boq the Munchkin Boy was actually a major character in the book but the musical shifts Boq's prominence to Fiyero for some reason and this always bothered me. Yeah, Fiyero unapologetically steals Boq's thunder (and I will never forgive the musical for that unnecessary change...) and apparently the movie was going to flesh him out more and make him friends with Elphaba like in the book… they were really close friends and Boq actually played a bigger role than Galinda... in fact, Galinda was very minor in the book compared to her role in the musical.

You wish your squad was this dope.

It seemed like they were going to add more things from the book. Unfortunately, a lot of his scenes got axed (I would watch a full five hours with all the deleted scenes). But Ethan Slater was still good with what he had to work with. Okay, maybe they had to delete his scenes with Elphaba. But I personally wanted more scenes with him and Fiyero… it seems like something was going on between them in ‘’Dancing Through Life’’ (not in that way; Ethan explained in interviews his Boq looked up to Fiyero and tried to emulate him and that makes sense) like a parallel storyline to Elphie and Galinda’s budding friendship. Boq seemed to come out of his shell more around Fiyero, kind of like Elphie gaining confidence around Galinda. I would’ve have minded a scene with Fiyero rooming with Boq and seeing the boys get ready for the dance.

In fact, we just needed more scenes with the Charmed Circle hanging out together in general. They teased us with these scenes for months leading up to the film’s release… only to delete them!!! WE WERE ROBBED

A two-part movie and they still had to sacrifice so much for time constraints.

That was my only other gripe with the film. The lack of development in the friendships of the characters…

This is why the movie really needed to be a TV series spanning multiple seasons, and they could have added so much from the books. Everyone would watch the living crap out of it, and we could have had more character development and world building. Someday I’d love to see an animated tv series based on the books (minus the smex). With all the lovely fanart coming out of this fanbase, think of the cool possibilities for character designs. Yeah a tv series based on the books are in order. (Probably couldn’t get the movie cast but I think Ethan Slater should reprise his role as Boq because he just sounded so much like how I pictured him from the book… he probably fits my vision the most out of everyone who was casted.)

A funny thing happened after the movie… my friend said, ''Why is Boq taller than Glinda?'' And I was like, ''out of the whole 2 1/2 hour movie THAT'S what you got out of it???'' (Anyway most of the actors who played Boq on stage were taller than Glinda by a head or two. He's a ''tall munchkin'' and they should've kept this line in the movie so people wouldn't be confusified.)

Anyway, yeah, despite the minor things, the movie is a solid 11/ 10 stars for me.

They had ONE job. And they nailed it.

#personal shit #wicked #wicked musical #wicked film #wicked (2024)#cynthia erivo #ariana grande #jonathan bailey #ethan slater #marissa bode #costume design

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niallerspayno · 10 hours ago

Text

My Sunshine

Masterlist

You’re the bubbly, optimistic junior stylist working with One Direction. While you easily connect with the other boys, Zayn Malik is a different story—quiet, grumpy, and distant. But as you share quiet moments and unexpected sparks fly between you two, you can’t deny the chemistry building. As tension grows, you both must face your fears and open up, finding that sometimes opposites really do attract.

Tags: grumpy!Zayn x sunshine!reader, slow burn, fluff

…

Your nerves flutter in your stomach, but you smile widely, trying to hide the way your heart races. This is your dream job. Being here, working alongside Lou Teasdale, the stylist behind some of the most iconic looks for One Direction, is everything you’ve ever wanted. You’ve trained for this moment—learning the ins and outs of makeup, hair, and fashion—but nothing could have prepared you for actually being here.

The tour itself is massive, with sold-out shows all over the world. The band is bigger than life itself, and you’re the junior makeup and hair stylist, the newest addition to the team, tasked with making sure the boys look flawless for every performance, photoshoot, and press interview. It’s a big responsibility, and you’re determined to prove yourself.

“Alright,” Lou says, her voice cutting through your racing thoughts, “Let’s go introduce you to the boys.”

You nod enthusiastically, trying to keep the nerves at bay. Lou leads you into the spacious backstage area where the boys are gathered, laughing and joking as they prep for their first show of the tour.

There they are, standing in front of you like a dream: Harry, with his signature curly hair and laid-back grin; Liam, who looks every bit the leader, confident and always on point; Louis, playful as ever, giving you a quick nod as he catches your eye; Niall, looking like he could charm anyone with a simple smile; and Zayn. Zayn, with his intense gaze and quiet demeanor, barely acknowledges your presence at first, lost in his own thoughts.

“Boys, this is the new addition to the team, Y/N,” Lou announces, her hand on your shoulder as she turns toward you. “She’ll be working closely with me as a junior makeup and hair stylist. She’s excited to be here, and I’m sure you’ll all make her feel welcome.”

You smile as brightly as you can, even though your hands are shaking slightly. “Hi, everyone. I’m so excited to work with you all.”

The boys offer various greetings—Liam gives you a friendly smile, Harry winks playfully, and Louis cracks a joke, making you laugh nervously. But it’s Zayn who catches your eye last, his expression unreadable.

“Nice to meet you,” he says quietly, barely glancing in your direction before turning back to the rest of the group.

You don’t mind. You know you have to prove yourself, and you’re ready to dive in.

Lou pats your back, guiding you toward the hair and makeup stations. “You’ve got this,” she says, her confidence in you making you feel a little less jittery.

As you follow her, your eyes flick back to the boys one last time. Zayn still doesn’t seem to notice you much, but you’re sure that will change once you start working with him. And even if he doesn’t seem impressed now, you’ll show him just how good you are at what you do.

…

A few weeks into the tour, and you’ve already settled into your role, though it’s a lot busier than you ever expected. Lou’s been an incredible mentor, always there to guide you, offering tips on everything from makeup application to the way the boys like their hair styled.

The boys, too, have been incredibly welcoming, with Harry cracking jokes to keep the mood light, Liam offering tips on staying organised, and Louis never missing a chance to tease you in the most endearing way possible. Even Niall, with his ever-present smile, has a way of making you feel like you belong.

The camaraderie is easy to find with everyone, except for one person—Zayn.

He’s quiet, distant, and rarely engages in the easy banter you share with the others. You’ve tried to crack him. You’ve dropped a couple of harmless comments about his style, attempting to draw him into conversation. You’ve tried joking around with him while you fix his hair or touch up his makeup, hoping that your bubbly energy will wear down his walls.

But Zayn isn’t easily swayed.

His responses are always short, and while he’s polite, it’s clear he’s not exactly interested in bonding with you. Every time you get a few words in with him, it’s like trying to break through a brick wall.

“Morning,” you greet him one day, trying to keep the mood light as you set up your station for the show’s makeup touch-ups.

He looks at you, nodding once, but doesn’t return the greeting with his usual warmth. “Hey.” His voice is low, uninterested.

You’re undeterred, though. You’ve cracked harder nuts than him.

“You know,” you say, leaning in as you prep the makeup brushes, “I think you’d look even better in a bit of eyeliner. Just a suggestion.”

Zayn doesn’t respond immediately, his gaze flicking to you for just a second. There’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes, but he quickly masks it. “I’m good, thanks.”

You sigh dramatically, dropping the brush. “What’s it going to take to make you crack, Zayn?”

The corner of his lips twitches, but he remains silent.

“You’re tough, I’ll give you that,” you say, winking at him, determined to keep pushing. “But I won’t give up. Eventually, I’ll get you laughing.”

He doesn’t answer, but there’s a slight shift in his demeanor—a subtle, almost imperceptible change. You know you’re getting under his skin, even if he’s not showing it.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Zayn mutters, walking away. But you swear you see the smallest smirk tug at his lips, and it’s enough to keep you going.

You’ve got your work cut out for you, but you’re determined. Zayn’s grumpy exterior doesn’t stand a chance against your sunshine.

…

It’s show day, and you and Lou are busy prepping the boys for their performance. The air is full of energy as you move between each of the boys, touching up their hair and makeup, while Lou adjusts their outfits. The camaraderie between everyone is infectious—Harry is cracking jokes, Niall is teasing Louis about his shirt, and Liam is chatting with Lou about some of the tour’s logistics.

But it’s when you move toward Zayn that the real fun begins.

“So, Y/N,” Louis calls, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he gives you a once-over, “We’ve been meaning to ask… Were you a big fan before you got this gig?”

You freeze for a split second, caught off guard by the question. You glance at Lou, who gives you a knowing smile, and the rest of the boys turn their attention to you, eagerly awaiting your answer.

“Well…” you say, clearing your throat and trying to play it cool, “Yeah. I mean, I’ve always liked your music. Who doesn’t, right?”

There’s a burst of laughter from Harry. “So you were stalking us before you showed up?”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile that plays at your lips. “Okay, fine. Maybe I watched a few interviews. Maybe I definitely knew all the lyrics to your songs before this tour.”

The boys erupt in teasing, and even Lou shakes her head with a grin.

“No shame in that!” Niall chimes in. “I’m sure you weren’t the only one.”

“Alright, alright,” Liam says, putting a hand up to stop the chatter. “But now, the big question… Who was your favorite?”

You pause, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. It’s a loaded question, but you decide to own it. After all, you’ve been trying to keep things light with Zayn, even if he’s always a bit distant.

“Zayn,” you answer without hesitation.

The room goes silent, and you feel all eyes on you. There’s a moment of stunned silence before Louis grins mischievously.

“Zayn? Really?” Louis teases, waggling his eyebrows. “The quiet, brooding one?”

“Are you sure you’re not just saying that to avoid getting murdered by one of the rest of us?” Harry adds, grinning.

You laugh, shrugging with a playful smile. “Yeah, I mean, Zayn’s just… different. I like his style.” You pause, trying to find the right words. “He’s… got that quiet cool thing going on, you know?”

The other boys exchange exaggerated glances, eyes wide.

“Well, I’ll be,” Niall says, stepping forward. “I think we’ve got a match here, lads. Opposites attract, right?”

“Totally,” Liam agrees, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “So when’s the wedding?”

You roll your eyes, but the teasing continues to come.

“I mean, just look at them,” Harry says, putting on a dramatic voice. “Zayn’s the cool, mysterious guy, and Y/N is… well, sunshine in human form. It’s practically written in the stars.”

Louis snickers. “I think we need a duet, huh? Maybe ‘Opposites Attract’ for the setlist?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Zayn mutters, barely looking up from his phone, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement, maybe?

“Yeah, yeah, we get it,” you say, trying to keep a straight face. “You guys are hilarious.”

But the teasing doesn’t stop.

“You know,” Liam says, nudging Zayn with a grin, “I think you’ve got some competition now. Better watch out, mate.”

“Don’t worry,” Niall adds with a wink, “I think we’re all just waiting for the first romantic gesture.”

Zayn’s lips twitch slightly, but he doesn’t respond. His usual cool exterior is still there, but there’s something about the way he’s reacting—like he’s not entirely opposed to the idea.

“Alright, alright,” Louis says, raising his hands in mock surrender. “We’ll stop. But we’ve definitely got team sunshine and team stormcloud here, don’t we?”

You laugh, even though you can’t help but feel a little flustered. “Sure. You’ve had your fun.”

As you finish up with Zayn, you exchange a brief, knowing look. There’s a subtle shift in his expression—a slight smile, maybe—before he looks away, as if pretending the entire conversation didn’t happen.

But you can’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, you’re getting closer.

…

You’re on your second cup of coffee, trying to shake off the early morning fog as you bustle around the dressing room, adjusting outfits and making sure everything is set for the boys’ interview. Lou’s beside you, just as busy, but she’s got the kind of calm efficiency that only comes with years of experience.

The rest of the boys are still trying to shake off the sleepiness. Harry’s running around the room like a ball of energy, Liam is focused on his phone, Niall’s sipping his coffee with a grin, and Louis is picking at his outfit, clearly trying to make himself look ‘effortlessly stylish.’

Then there’s Zayn.

He’s slouched in a chair, arms crossed, eyes half-closed, clearly not a fan of this early start. You can’t help but grin at him.

“Good morning, Zayn!” you chirp, walking past him.

He grumbles something incoherent, his eyes narrowed as if the mere sound of your voice is too much.

“You’re way too happy for this time of day,” he mutters, his voice rough from sleep. “How can you be this cheerful this early?”

You laugh, raising your coffee cup. “Second cup. It’s my magic potion,” you tease.

He shoots you a deadpan look, clearly not impressed, but there’s something in his eyes that says he’s not entirely annoyed either. Maybe just a little intrigued.

“Must be nice,” he grumbles again, but the usual edge of annoyance is missing.

As Lou moves to touch up Niall’s hair, you continue bouncing between the boys, making sure everyone’s ready for the interview. Your usual banter flows easily—Louis teases Harry about his outfit, Niall jokes with you about your coffee addiction, and Liam quietly observes, nodding at the various preparations.

But through it all, you can’t shake the feeling that Zayn is watching you.

Every time you move across the room or make eye contact, you catch a glimpse of his dark eyes lingering on you for a fraction longer than usual. At first, you tell yourself it’s nothing—just Zayn being Zayn. But it happens again, and again.

You’re not imagining it. Zayn is watching you.

You try not to let it throw you off, keeping your usual bubbly self going as you continue with the boys’ preparations, but something in the way Zayn looks at you now feels different. It’s subtle, but it’s there—like he’s studying you, or maybe… waiting for something.

As the boys finish getting ready, you make your way back to Lou, trying to act casual. But you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips when you glance over at Zayn again.

It’s like something’s shifted, but you’re not quite sure what yet.

…

The concert has just ended, and the venue is buzzing with the lingering energy of thousands of screaming fans. You step outside, seeking a moment of quiet in the cool night air. The distant hum of voices and equipment being packed away drifts through the stillness. Rounding the corner, you stop short when you see Zayn leaning against a brick wall, a cigarette glowing between his fingers.

For a moment, you consider turning back, not wanting to intrude on what looks like his private time. But before you can retreat, he glances up, his dark eyes meeting yours through the thin curl of smoke.

“You hiding out too?” you ask, stepping forward cautiously.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just shrugs and takes another slow drag from his cigarette. But he doesn’t seem annoyed by your presence, so you take it as a good sign.

“You were incredible tonight,” you say, leaning against the wall a few feet from him.

“Thanks,” he mutters, his voice low. He exhales a cloud of smoke, looking up at the night sky. “Crowd was good.”

You nod, watching him for a moment before your gaze flickers to the cigarette in his hand. He notices, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“You smoke?” he asks, holding it up slightly.

You shake your head with a laugh. “Never tried it.”

That catches his attention. He turns his head toward you, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “Never? Not even once?”

“Nope.” You grin. “Guess I never had the urge.”

He considers you for a moment, then holds out the cigarette, the embers glowing faintly in the dim light. “Wanna try?”

You hesitate, your gaze shifting between him and the cigarette. “I don’t know… I mean, isn’t this the part where I’m supposed to say it’s bad for me?”

He smirks, his voice tinged with amusement. “Probably. But who listens to that, right?”

With a small laugh, you reach out and take the cigarette from his fingers. “Okay, but if I choke and die, it’s on you.”

He smirks, watching as you raise the cigarette to your lips. “Just take it slow. Don’t try to inhale too much at first.”

You follow his instructions, but the moment the smoke hits your throat, you cough violently, your eyes watering as you hand the cigarette back to him.

He smiles, shaking his head. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Okay, fine,” you rasp, wiping your eyes. “This is a terrible idea.”

“Relax,” he says, his voice softer now. He steps closer, holding the cigarette out to you again. “Try it one more time. I’ll walk you through it.”

There’s something in his tone—calm, almost encouraging—that makes you take it. He positions himself beside you, his hand hovering near yours, his presence close enough to feel the warmth of his body in the cool night air.

“Take a smaller drag this time,” he instructs, his voice low. “Don’t rush it. Just… let it fill your mouth first.”

You do as he says, more cautiously this time. The smoke feels strange, but not as overwhelming, and when you exhale slowly, it curls out in a thin stream.

“There you go,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips.

You hand the cigarette back to him, shaking your head with a grin. “You’re such a bad influence.”

He chuckles, taking another drag as he leans back against the wall. “You didn’t have to try it.”

“Yeah, but you made it look so cool,” you tease, rolling your eyes.

He laughs softly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual.

“Wait a second,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him. “Did you just laugh at me?”

His gaze flickers to you, and for a split second, there’s a flash of guilt before he smirks. “Maybe.”

“You totally did!” you exclaim, pointing at him. “Zayn Malik, laughing at my expense. Unbelievable.”

He chuckles softly, and this time it’s unmistakable. You stare at him, momentarily stunned.

“Oh my God, I cracked you.” You break into a wide grin, unable to hide your triumph. “I’ve been waiting for this moment. Feels good to know I’m funny enough to make you laugh.”

He shakes his head, the smirk lingering. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” you fire back, your tone light and teasing. “You should laugh more, you know. It looks good on you.”

He raises an eyebrow, skeptical. “Yeah, right.”

“I mean it,” you say, softening. “You’ve got a great laugh. And your smile… It’s really nice.”

His smirk falters, replaced by something quieter, more unsure. “Dunno about that.”

“Well, I do,” you reply simply, your voice steady.

He looks away, exhaling smoke into the night air, his brow furrowing slightly. It’s as if your words are too much for him to process, too sincere to brush off entirely.

For a moment, the air between you feels heavy—not with tension, but with something tender, something new.

“I’m serious,” you add gently. “You should let people see that side of you more often.”

He doesn’t respond, not directly. Instead, he stubs out the cigarette against the wall, his fingers lingering on the spot for a moment longer than necessary. When he looks back at you, there’s something different in his eyes—like he’s trying to figure you out, and maybe himself, too.

“Guess we’ll see,” he mutters, his voice low.

And just like that, the walls you’ve been chipping away at feel a little less insurmountable.

...

The dressing room is a whirlwind of activity, the hum of pre-show excitement hanging in the air. You and Lou are working in sync, moving between the boys as they sit in front of the brightly lit mirrors.

“You’ve got ten minutes!” a stagehand calls from the doorway.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re almost done!” Lou shouts back, grinning as she flicks a strand of Harry’s hair into place.

You turn to Zayn, who’s scrolling on his phone, already styled to perfection except for one finishing touch. “Alright, Zayn, I’m bringing it up again. Eyeliner. Just a little bit. What do you think?”

He glances at you, his expression neutral but not dismissive. “Why’re you so obsessed with this?”

“Because it would look amazing on you,” you say, grabbing the pencil from the makeup kit and holding it up for emphasis. “Trust me. It’ll make your eyes pop under the stage lights.”

“Mate, she’s got a point,” Niall chimes in from across the room. “You’ve got the look for it.”

“Since when do you care about eyeliner?” Zayn shoots back, raising an eyebrow.

“Since she started nagging you about it,” Niall says with a grin.

You roll your eyes, turning your attention back to Zayn. “Come on. One try. If you don’t like it, I’ll never bring it up again.”

He hesitates, his gaze shifting to Lou, who’s watching the exchange with an amused smirk. “Don’t look at me,” she says. “This is all her.”

Finally, with a quiet sigh, Zayn leans back in the chair. “Fine. Do your thing.”

The room goes silent for a beat before Harry’s voice cuts through the air. “Wait. What?”

“You’re actually letting her do it?” Louis asks, his jaw dropping.

“You never let anyone touch your face like that,” Liam adds, his tone laced with disbelief.

“Guess she’s got the magic touch,” Lou teases, winking at you.

You try to suppress a smile as you step closer to Zayn, the eyeliner in hand. “Hold still,” you murmur, your voice softer now.

He watches you carefully, his eyes steady and dark as you lean in. The room is quiet again, save for the occasional rustle of movement from the other boys. When you finish, you step back, capping the pencil with a satisfied grin.

“There. Told you it’d look good.”

Zayn turns to the mirror, his expression unreadable as he inspects your handiwork. After a moment, he shrugs. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” Louis echoes, laughing. “That’s the most praise I’ve ever heard him give anyone.”

“I’m just surprised he let you do it,” Niall says, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’ve definitely got him wrapped around your finger.”

“Shut up, Niall,” Zayn mutters, but there’s the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

You meet his eyes in the mirror, your own smile softening. “Glad you trust me.”

For a moment, it’s just the two of you in the reflection, the noise of the room fading into the background. Then Lou claps her hands, snapping everyone back to reality.

“Alright, showtime!” she calls.

As the boys file out of the room, you catch Zayn glancing back at you, his expression unreadable but lingering just long enough to send your heart fluttering.

…

Later that night the bar is buzzing with life—laughter, music, and the steady hum of conversation creating the perfect escape after a week of chaos. Your group claims a booth tucked into a corner, a round table surrounded by curved seating that’s already too small for the number of people cramming in.

“Alright, everyone, shift your arses!” Niall declares, sliding into the booth and dragging Louis in beside him.

The others follow, jostling for space. You hesitate at the edge, scanning for an open seat. Of course, the only spot left is sandwiched between Zayn and Liam.

“Go on, love, we don’t bite,” Liam says, giving you an encouraging smile as he pats the seat next to him.

“Much,” Louis adds with a wink, earning a laugh from the group.

Rolling your eyes but unable to hide your grin, you slide in. Your thigh brushes against Zayn’s as you sit, the warmth of him seeping through your jeans. He doesn’t move away, but he doesn’t acknowledge it either, his focus seemingly on the drink in his hand.

“Cozy, isn’t it?” Niall teases, smirking as he watches you settle in. Across the table, you catch Louis giving him a knowing look, and it clicks—they planned this.

The first round of drinks arrives, and Lou raises her glass. “To surviving another week of madness!”

“Cheers!” everyone echoes, clinking glasses around the table.

The conversation flows easily, laughter rippling through the group as stories and jokes fly across the table. You’re quick to join in, throwing in quips and teasing remarks that earn loud laughs from Niall, Louis and Harry. Even Liam, always the polite one, leans into the banter, his grin wide as he engages you in a playful back-and-forth about your questionable taste in music.

Zayn, however, is quieter, his comments few and far between. Still, you can’t help but notice the way his gaze lingers on you when he thinks you’re not paying attention.

At one point, Louis launches into a particularly outrageous story about their last tour, leaving you laughing so hard you throw your head back, accidentally bumping into Zayn’s shoulder.

“Sorry!” you say quickly, glancing at him.

“It’s fine,” he murmurs, his voice soft, though there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

“You could at least pretend to have fun,” you tease, leaning toward him slightly.

“I am having fun,” he replies, his tone deadpan.

“Sure you are,” you shoot back, grinning. “You’ve got the brooding loner thing down to an art.”

To your surprise, a quiet chuckle escapes him, and the sound sends a thrill through you. You’ve been waiting to crack him, and now that you’ve gotten even a small laugh, you’re determined to push further.

Across the table, Niall points at the two of you. “Oi, Zayn, d’you know you’re sitting next to the life of the party?”

“Please,” you groan, rolling your eyes. “You’re just jealous.”

“Jealous? Of you?” Harry pipes up with an exaggerated laugh. “Never.”

“She’s not wrong, though,” Liam says with a warm smile. “You’re keeping us all entertained. Even Zayn looks like he’s enjoying himself.”

“Barely,” you quip, nudging Zayn’s knee with yours.

Zayn glances at you, his lips curving into the faintest smirk. “I’m just waiting for you to tire yourself out.”

Louis cackles. “God, you two are like an old married couple.”

Your cheeks flush, but you shrug it off with a grin. “Please, like Zayn could handle me.”

“That’s probably true,” Liam chimes in, smirking. “You’d talk him into the ground.”

Zayn shakes his head, leaning back slightly. His arm stretches along the back of the booth, his fingers brushing your shoulder—a casual gesture that feels anything but.

“I’d survive,” he says quietly, his voice low and laced with something you can’t quite place.

As the night continues, the group’s energy swirls around you, but you’re hyperaware of Zayn. The way his leg stays pressed against yours. The subtle glances he steals when he thinks you’re distracted.

When Harry insists on another round, you volunteer to go with him to the bar. As you slip out of the booth, your leg brushes Zayn’s again. This time, his gaze locks with yours, and for a moment, the rest of the room fades.

“Don’t miss me too much,” you tease, winking as you step away.

Zayn chuckles softly, his voice following you. “No promises.”

At the bar, Harry leans in with a sly grin. “You’re really something, you know that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Zayn,” he says simply, raising a brow. “He’s watching you like a hawk. You’ve got quite the effect on people, sunshine.”

…

The night wears on, and the bar grows louder as the drinks flow freely. You’re halfway through a spirited debate with Louis and Niall about the merits of your favorite movie when you glance around the booth and notice Zayn’s absence.

You scan the bar, your brow furrowing. He’s nowhere to be seen—no cigarette in hand by the doors, no figure tucked into a corner with a drink. It’s unlike him to disappear without a word, and curiosity tugs at you.

“Where’d Zayn go?” you ask Lou, who shrugs.

“Probably went for some air. You know how he gets in places like this.”

That’s all you need to hear. Excusing yourself, you slip out of the booth and weave through the crowd, heading toward the quieter side of the bar. The night air hits you as you step outside, cool and refreshing after the stuffy warmth of the bar.

It doesn’t take long to find him. Zayn’s leaning against the side of the building, a cigarette balanced between his fingers, the soft glow of the embers casting shadows across his face. He looks up when he hears your footsteps, his dark eyes meeting yours.

“Thought you disappeared,” you say lightly, walking over to him.

“Needed a break,” he murmurs, taking a drag from his cigarette.

You lean against the wall beside him, letting the silence settle for a moment. “Big crowds aren’t your thing, huh?”

He exhales smoke into the night air, his gaze distant. “Not really. It’s fine for a while, but… it gets too much, y’know?”

You nod, watching him carefully. “Yeah, I get it. Everyone always expects you to be ‘on.’ It’s exhausting.”

He glances at you, a flicker of surprise in his expression. “You’re always ‘on,’ though. How d’you do it?”

You laugh softly, crossing your arms. “Lots of coffee. And… I guess it’s just how I’ve always been. It’s easier for me to focus on making other people happy. Keeps me from overthinking.”

Zayn studies you for a moment, his cigarette forgotten between his fingers. “Guess we’re opposites, then.”

“Seems that way,” you agree, offering him a small smile. “But opposites attract, right?”

His lips twitch, the ghost of a smile appearing. “So they say.”

The quiet stretches between you again, but it’s not uncomfortable. You glance up at the stars, feeling the weight of his gaze on you.

“Do you ever feel like… I don’t know, like you’re carrying this invisible weight?” he asks suddenly, his voice softer now. “Like no matter what you do, it’s not enough?”

You look at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. “Yeah,” you admit, your voice just as quiet. “All the time. But I try to remind myself that it’s okay not to have it all figured out. It’s okay to just… be.”

Zayn exhales deeply, dropping his cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his heel. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not,” you say gently. “But it helps when you let people in. Even just a little.”

He huffs a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

“Hey, someone’s gotta look out for you,” you tease, bumping your shoulder against his.

For the first time, his smile reaches his eyes. “Thanks,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Anytime,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at the moment you’ve shared.

The silence between you stretches, filled with the quiet hum of the night. You can feel Zayn’s presence beside you—steady, grounding. For someone who’s always been so closed off, he’s letting you in, little by little, and it makes your heart ache in a way you can’t explain.

You glance at him, noticing the way his dark lashes cast shadows against his cheeks, the soft curve of his lips as he stares out into the distance. His face is unreadable, but there’s a tension in his posture, like he’s caught between wanting to say something and holding it back.

“Zayn,” you say softly, and his eyes flick to yours, guarded yet curious.

“Yeah?”

You take a breath, your heart beating faster. “I meant what I said before. About your smile. And your laugh. I wish I could see them more because… I like them. I like you.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, his expression unreadable. Then, almost imperceptibly, he leans closer. “You don’t have to say that.”

“I’m not just saying it,” you insist, your voice firm but gentle. “You’re so hard on yourself, Zayn. You don’t see what I see. You’re kind, and talented, and—”

You’re cut off as Zayn closes the space between you, his lips brushing against yours so softly it feels like a question. Your breath catches, but you don’t pull away—instead, you lean into him, answering his unspoken ask.

The kiss is tentative at first, like he’s still testing the waters, but as your hand comes up to rest on his chest, it deepens. His lips are warm, slightly rough from the cigarette, but his touch is careful, reverent. It’s the kind of kiss that makes the world blur at the edges, leaving only the two of you in sharp focus.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours. He’s breathing a little heavier, and his eyes search yours, vulnerability etched across his face.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he murmurs, his voice low.

“Regretting it already?” you tease, though your voice is soft, not wanting to break the moment.

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth—more genuine than any you’ve seen from him before. “Not even close,” he says, his thumb brushing against your wrist where your hand still rests on his chest.

For a moment, you stand there, the air between you charged with something you’re both too afraid to name yet. But as his eyes linger on yours, you know this won’t be the last time Zayn lets you in.

“C’mon,” you say eventually, your voice light to mask the way your heart is racing. “Let’s go back before they send out a search party.”

Zayn chuckles softly, and the sound makes you smile. “Alright,” he says, his voice softer now. “But let’s keep this… between us for now.”

“Whatever you say, rockstar,” you reply, nudging him gently before turning toward the bar.

You can feel his gaze on you as you walk, a warmth spreading through your chest. Maybe you haven’t completely cracked Zayn yet, but this—whatever it is—is a start.

…

It’s one of those days when everything is a bit too much. You’re rushing around backstage, trying to get the boys styled for the show while keeping your nerves in check. The usual upbeat energy you carry is nowhere to be found today, replaced by a mounting pressure that makes every little thing feel like a big deal.

As you dash past the dressing room, a tangle of cords trips you up. Your foot catches, and before you can steady yourself, you fall forward, hitting the ground with a sharp thud. For a split second, everything freezes—the hustle of backstage, the noise of the boys and crew—all of it. You’re just sitting there, stunned.

You hear a soft voice break through the silence. “Are you alright?” It’s Zayn, kneeling down beside you before anyone else can even move. He’s the first to reach you, his hands gently helping you sit up.

The other boys are quick to hover, crowding around you with their usual teasing and concern. “You good, love?” Niall asks, a grin on his face, though his eyes are laced with concern.

But it’s Zayn who stays calm, his gaze focused on you in a way that makes the noise around you fade. He can see it. The way your shoulders are tense, the slight tremble in your hands. It’s not just the fall. It’s everything.

“Hey,” Zayn says quietly, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his thumb lightly grazing your cheek. His voice drops lower, just for you, “Come with me.”

Without waiting for anyone’s response, he helps you up and leads you away from the others. You don’t protest, too grateful for the space to let the walls you’ve been holding up start to crumble. He pulls you outside to a quiet spot, away from the chaos of the dressing room.

Once you’re out in the open, Zayn releases your arm but stays close. You can feel the tension from the kiss days ago, still lingering between you, but neither of you has addressed it. It’s there, unspoken. And now, as the weight of the day catches up to you, you realize how much it’s been bothering you.

“I’m fine,” you say, trying to brush it off, but your voice cracks. You’re not fine. You’re anything but fine. You’re exhausted, overwhelmed, and a part of you just wants to break down.

Zayn doesn’t let you off the hook. He takes a step closer, his eyes searching yours. “You sure? You don’t look fine. I saw that back there… you’re not okay.”

You let out a shaky breath, and before you know it, the floodgates open. The tears you’ve been holding back start to spill over. You can’t stop them, not with everything that’s been building up. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you choke out, your voice thick with emotion. “I’ve been trying so hard to keep everything together. It’s all just too much…”

Zayn is silent for a moment, processing your words. Then, without saying another thing, he steps forward and wraps his arms around you in a hug. It’s warm and firm, like a shield from the world around you.

You don’t know why, but you break, your arms winding around him and letting yourself sink into his embrace. His scent, his presence—it’s all grounding. And for the first time today, you feel safe, like you can just let go.

His voice is soft, barely a whisper. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be strong all the time. We’re all just… figuring things out, yeah?”

You nod against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat soothing. There’s something about Zayn’s calm, unspoken support that makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to do everything on your own.

He pulls back slightly, his hands still resting on your shoulders as he looks at you with those dark, understanding eyes. “You’ve been running yourself ragged,” he says, voice steady. “You deserve a break.”

You smile weakly up at him, still feeling a little shaky but grateful. “I don’t even know what a break feels like anymore.”

Zayn smiles, but it’s softer than usual. “Maybe it’s time you learned.” He gives you a gentle squeeze before stepping back, though his presence still lingers. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. We all need help sometimes.”

For the first time in days, you feel a flicker of relief. The weight on your shoulders isn’t gone, but it’s lighter now. Zayn’s not just the quiet guy you’ve been trying to figure out. He’s here for you in a way that feels real, that feels like more than just words.

“Thanks, Zayn,” you murmur, your voice steadying. “I needed that.”

He gives you a small, almost imperceptible nod, his expression softening just a little. “Anytime.”

As you and Zayn make your way back into the dressing room, the cool air from outside still lingers on your skin, but the chaos of the tour quickly rushes back in. You take a deep breath and, as if flipping a switch, slip back into your more familiar bubbly personality. It’s a little quieter now, more subdued than it was before, but it’s still there.

You give Zayn a small smile, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes the way it usually does. “Thanks again, Zayn,” you say, your voice light but carrying the quiet gratitude you feel.

Zayn just nods, the same unreadable expression on his face. There’s a softness there now, something that wasn’t there before. Something unspoken.

As you re-enter the dressing room, Lou and the boys are all immediately on you, crowding around, but you put on a brave face.

“Everything okay?” Lou asks, her voice gentle, as she takes in the shift in your mood.

“I’m fine, really,” you say, flashing a smile that doesn’t quite hit the mark. “Just a little trip, nothing serious.” You wave off the concern as best as you can, but the boys aren’t having it.

Liam arches an eyebrow, eyeing you with a look that knows something’s up. “You sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something,” he jokes, though his concern is genuine.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I’m fine, just… one of those days.” You try to brush it off, but the boys are too perceptive.

“Well,” Niall says, giving you an exaggerated wink, “seems like someone was quick to swoop in and save the day.” His eyes flicker to Zayn, who’s just standing off to the side, arms folded as he watches the interaction with his usual calm demeanor.

Harry laughs and nudges Zayn. “Looks like someone’s got your back, mate.”

You try to ignore the heat creeping up your neck as the teasing starts. You glance at Zayn, his posture casual, but there’s a glimmer in his eye that you’re not sure if you should be worried about.

“Don’t start,” you warn, though the words lack their usual edge. You can feel your heart skip a beat at the thought of what’s been simmering between you and Zayn lately.

But the boys aren’t backing down. Louis grins, shaking his head. “So, is there a special reason Zayn’s the first one to swoop in, or are we just lucky today?”

You roll your eyes, though the smile tugging at your lips betrays the fact that you’re trying to keep it together. “I’m fine, really. Zayn just didn’t want me to look like an idiot in front of all of you,” you say, the banter coming more naturally now, despite the lingering emotions from earlier.

Zayn doesn’t respond right away, but his expression softens just slightly. He glances your way and offers a small, quiet smile—barely noticeable, but it’s there. The others catch it, though, and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Is there something going on here?” Liam says with a teasing grin, eyeing the pair of you. He leans in toward Niall, whispering loud enough for everyone to hear. “I think we’ve got some chemistry brewing. Look at them.”

You feel your face heat up again, and you glance at Zayn, who seems unfazed by the attention, but you catch a slight shift in his stance—a subtle tension that’s never been there before.

“Stop it,” you say quickly, trying to deflect, but your tone is a little less forceful than usual. “There’s nothing going on, okay?”

“Right,” Harry says, sarcasm dripping from his voice as he crosses his arms. “Nothing at all. Just a little ‘hero rescue’ moment, is that it?”

The group bursts into laughter, and you can’t help but chuckle along, even though you’re not sure whether you should feel embarrassed or flattered. The teasing doesn’t stop, but there’s something different in the air now. It’s as if everyone’s starting to pick up on the subtle shifts between you and Zayn, the unspoken tension that neither of you has fully addressed.

Zayn stays quiet through it all, his arms crossed as he leans against the wall, his gaze flicking between you and the boys. He doesn’t join in the teasing, but the small smile that tugs at his lips tells you he’s aware of it. He knows what they’re getting at. And maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t mind it so much anymore.

“Alright, alright,” Lou says, laughing at the exchange. “We’ve got a show to get ready for, yeah?”

But as everyone goes back to preparing for the night ahead, you can’t help but notice that the teasing hasn’t really stopped. It’s subtle now, though, more of a knowing glance here and there, a comment made just loud enough for the two of you to hear. It’s like the boys have figured it out—there’s something between you and Zayn, even if it hasn’t been fully acknowledged yet.

…

The dressing room hums with the usual pre-show energy—hairbrushes, makeup palettes, and chatter filling the space. You’re darting between the boys, fixing hair and smoothing stray strands, trying to keep the chaos under control. Lou stepped out a while ago, trusting you to finish up, but you’re starting to think she might have left you to fend for yourself on purpose.

“Nearly done, Harry,” you say, running your fingers through his curls to set the final piece.

“Thanks, love,” he replies, grinning at you in the mirror. Then, with an exaggerated stretch, he stands and grabs his jacket. “Think I’ll grab some water before we head out.”

You glance at him in surprise. “You don’t need a touch-up or anything?”

He waves you off. “I’m flawless, darling. You know that.” He winks, strolling toward the door.

“Subtle, Harry,” Louis mutters as Harry slips out.

“I’m getting coffee,” Louis announces next, his tone far too casual to be convincing. He’s already halfway out the door before you can respond.

Niall follows with a cheeky grin. “Might grab something to eat.”

“Think I’ll check on the stage,” Liam adds, standing and stretching.

Your brow furrows. “All of you, at once?”

None of them answer, though Liam shoots you a knowing smile before disappearing into the hallway.

The door clicks shut, leaving you alone with Zayn. The silence is deafening in their absence. You glance at him in the mirror, catching the way his eyes flicker to yours and linger.

Your heart begins to race, and you turn back to your station, pretending to fuss with a comb. “Guess it’s just us then,” you say, your voice too light to sound casual.

He doesn’t reply at first, but you feel the weight of his gaze. “Yeah,” he finally murmurs.

The tension in the room is thick, the air charged in a way it hasn’t been before. It’s been a week since the kiss at the bar—a week of stolen glances, quiet moments, and a magnetic pull you’ve both been ignoring.

When you finally meet his eyes again, his expression is unreadable, but his lips part as if he’s about to say something.

“Zayn…” You don’t even know what you’re about to say, but the words don’t matter.

He stands, moving toward you slowly, deliberately. “I’ve been thinking about that night,” he says softly.

Your throat tightens. “Me too,” you admit, barely above a whisper.

The distance between you shrinks. His hand brushes yours, his touch light and hesitant, like he’s giving you a chance to pull away. But you don’t. Instead, your breath catches as he tilts his head, his gaze locked on yours.

When his lips finally meet yours, it’s like a spark igniting. His mouth is warm, firm yet gentle, and he tastes faintly of spearmint gum. The kiss starts slow, testing the waters, but when you respond, his hands slide to your waist, pulling you closer.

The world narrows to the two of you—the faint hum of the dressing room lights, the subtle scratch of his stubble against your skin, the way his fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt. Your own hands move instinctively, tangling in his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingers.

His kiss deepens, more urgent now, and you’re vaguely aware of the counter pressing into your back, grounding you. His lips trail from yours for a moment, brushing the corner of your mouth before returning, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

You lose track of time, the kiss consuming every thought, every sensation—until the door creaks open.

“Seriously?” Louis’s voice cuts through the haze like a bucket of ice water.

You and Zayn break apart so fast you nearly trip over yourself. Your cheeks burn as you turn to see all four boys standing there, grinning like they’ve just won the lottery.

“I knew it!” Niall crows, pointing at the two of you.

Harry smirks, crossing his arms. “Didn’t think you’d actually do it in the dressing room, though. Bold choice.”

“Oh, come on,” Louis says, clearly enjoying himself. “This tension’s been unbearable. You two were practically begging to be caught.”

You groan, covering your face with your hands as your embarrassment bubbles over. Zayn doesn’t move far, though. His hand stays on your waist, steadying you, and when you glance up at him, there’s a flicker of amusement in his expression.

“You all planned this, didn’t you?” you demand, your voice muffled behind your hands.

“Maybe,” Liam says with an innocent shrug, though his grin gives him away.

“Doesn’t matter, though,” Louis says, smirking. “We’re just glad it finally happened.”

You groan again, but as Zayn’s hand lingers on your waist and his thumb brushes a small, comforting circle, you can’t help but feel like the teasing might just be worth it.

The boys are still grinning like a pack of mischievous schoolchildren, their delight at catching you and Zayn mid-makeout entirely too obvious.

“Alright, alright,” Zayn mutters, stepping slightly in front of you as if to shield you from the onslaught of teasing. His voice is low but firm, though the corner of his mouth twitches like he’s trying not to smile. “You’ve had your fun. Leave it.”

“Oh no, mate,” Louis says, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed and smirk firmly in place. “This is gold. We’re not letting this one slide so easily.”

Harry winks at you. “We were wondering how long it’d take for you two to finally crack.”

Your cheeks burn hotter, but you manage to find your voice. “Okay, fine! Yes, we kissed. Happy now?”

Louis arches a brow, his smirk widening. “Kissed? As in, just now, or—” He pauses for effect, dragging it out. “Have there been… other moments we should know about?”

Zayn tenses slightly beside you, and you glance at him. There’s an unspoken question in his eyes, like he’s asking if it’s okay to share. You sigh, deciding there’s no point in hiding it now. “There was… one other time,” you admit, your voice quieter. “At the bar. A week ago.”

The room erupts into laughter and groans of mock disbelief.

“You mean to tell us,” Niall starts, pointing between you and Zayn, “you’ve been sneaking around for a week and didn’t say a word?”

Liam shakes his head, chuckling. “No wonder things have felt so off. The tension was starting to get unbearable.”

“You’re telling me,” Harry says, throwing up his hands. “We’ve all been walking on eggshells thinking something was up. Turns out, it’s this.”

Louis whistles, leaning back against the wall like he’s settling in for a good story. “And here I thought Zayn was the mysterious one. Looks like you’ve both been keeping secrets.”

You groan, rubbing your forehead as the embarrassment bubbles up. “It’s not like that,” you mumble.

“It’s not?” Harry teases, arching a brow. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks very much like that.”

“We haven’t even talked about it yet,” Zayn cuts in, his voice calm but firm. The boys all quiet down slightly at his words, their teasing smirks softening into looks of mild curiosity.

You glance at him, surprised by his honesty but grateful for it. “Yeah,” you add, shifting awkwardly. “We haven’t… figured anything out. It’s just—” You gesture vaguely between the two of you. “We’re still trying to make sense of it.”

Louis raises a brow, looking thoroughly unconvinced. “Trying to make sense of it, huh? Is that what you were doing just now?”

The room fills with laughter again, and you groan, covering your face with your hands.

“Alright, enough,” Zayn says, his tone carrying just enough weight to silence the chaos. “You’ve had your fun. Now give it a rest.”

Louis raises his hands in surrender, though his smirk remains. “Fine. But don’t think this is the last we’ll talk about it.”

With a chorus of knowing chuckles, the boys start to shuffle back into the room, resuming their pre-show routine. As the teasing dies down, you finally allow yourself to breathe, glancing up at Zayn.

“Well, that was mortifying,” you whisper, your voice barely audible above the commotion.

Zayn leans closer, his lips curving into a faint, reassuring smile. “Could’ve been worse,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. “At least they didn’t walk in earlier.”

You laugh despite yourself, and the sound seems to ease some of the lingering tension. His thumb brushes one last circle on your waist before he finally steps away, giving you space.

But as the boys’ playful chatter fills the room again, you can’t help but notice the way Zayn’s gaze lingers on you from across the room—like even in a crowded space, you’re the only one he sees. And judging by the flutter in your chest, you’re starting to feel the exact same way.

…

The next morning the knock at your hotel room door comes just as you’re grabbing your jacket. Startled, you glance at the clock—it’s still early, barely past seven. Pushing down your curiosity, you open the door, and there he is.

Zayn stands in the hallway, his hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie, his hair slightly tousled like he’s been running his fingers through it. In his other hand, he’s holding two coffee cups.

“Morning,” he says, his voice soft and a little hesitant.

“Morning.” You blink at him, surprised to see him here, especially so early. “What are you doing here?”

He lifts one of the cups, offering it to you. “Brought you coffee. Figured you might need it before you head out.”

Your chest tightens as you take the cup from him. One sip confirms it—he’s remembered your exact order. The gesture is so small, yet it sends a warmth spreading through you.

“Thanks,” you say, stepping aside. “Do you want to come in?”

He hesitates for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. I—yeah.”

You step back, letting him inside. The room is quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning. Zayn looks around briefly before settling on the edge of the chair by the window, his shoulders tense.

You sit on the edge of the bed, cradling your coffee. The silence between you is thick but not uncomfortable, more like it’s brimming with unspoken words.

Zayn exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve been thinking about this. About us,” he says finally, his voice quiet but steady.

Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t interrupt.

“I’m not good at this,” he admits, his gaze fixed on the floor. “Letting people in. Trusting them. It’s… hard for me. Always has been.” He looks up at you, his eyes raw with honesty. “That’s why I’ve been so stand-offish. It wasn’t because of you. It was me trying to protect myself.”

You swallow, his words cutting straight to your heart. “Zayn…”

“But you,” he continues, his voice softening, “you make it hard to keep those walls up. You’re… sunshine. You light everything up just by walking into a room, and I didn’t know how to handle that at first.”

Your breath catches, your chest tightening at his confession.

“I’m scared,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t want to keep shutting you out. I want to try. Really try. I want to be with you—for real.”

For a moment, you’re too stunned to respond. His vulnerability, his honesty—it’s everything you’ve been waiting for, and it fills you with a kind of warmth you didn’t know you needed.

“You’re scared,” you say finally, your voice gentle. “But you’re still here. That says a lot.”

Zayn’s lips curve into a small, tentative smile. “I guess it does.”

You set your coffee down on the nightstand and stand, moving to sit beside him. “You’re not the only one who’s scared,” you admit. “This isn’t… easy for me either. But I think we balance each other out, you know? You’re the calm when I’m all over the place, and maybe I can be the sunshine when you need it.”

He looks at you, his gaze softening, and you feel your chest tighten again. “I don’t just need it,” he says quietly. “I want it. I want you.”

You smile, reaching out to take his hand. “I want you too.”

The air between you shifts, the tension easing into something softer, sweeter. Zayn leans in, his hand lifting to gently cup your cheek. “You’re my sunshine,” he murmurs before pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is slow and tender, a promise wrapped in warmth. His hand slides into your hair, holding you close as your lips move together in perfect harmony. The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in this moment.

When you finally pull back, your foreheads rest together, your breaths mingling in the quiet.

“Guess that makes this official, huh?” you say softly, a teasing lilt to your voice.

Zayn chuckles, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

And as he pulls you into another kiss, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this is the start of something incredible.

…

Author’s note: I really enjoyed this one! Let me know if you’d like a part 2 or have similar requests💛

#one direction fanfiction #zayn malik x y/n #zayn malik x you #zayn malik x reader #zayn malik fanfiction #zayn x y/n #zayn x reader

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the-writerwoman · 20 hours ago

Text

Finally got round to writing! Just been busy 😂

Here’s the Drabble for the prompt I made myself of if Wade and Logan had a one night stand, and then Wade starts his new job the next day to find out that Logan is his boss!

I still need to write out chapter 4 of What we once were. I’ll try and get that out at some point today or tomorrow 😊

Lets go!

—————————

The bar was humming with quiet energy, the low-key, buzzing atmosphere made people feel like they could unwind or get into a little trouble. Wade strolled in, his sharp eyes scanning the room as he slid onto a stool at the far end of the bar. He ordered a whiskey neat and let his gaze wander, taking in the usual crowd. Couples leaning too close, coworkers unwinding after a long day, and a few loners nursing drinks.

That’s when he saw him.

Stood near the bar, drink in hand, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he surveyed the room was one of the most handsome men Wade had ever seen. His leather jacket looked well-worn, as though it had been through a lifetime of stories, and the subtle way his fingers curled around his glass gave off the impression of someone who knew how to handle himself. Wade couldn’t help but be intrigued. The guy looked serious, intense even, but there was something about him that screamed challenge.

Wade liked a challenge.

Grabbing his drink, Wade slid off his stool and made his way over, adopting a casual lean against the bar near him. He waited a beat for the man to glance his way, and when he didn’t, Wade decided to make his move.

“Hey there,” Wade began, his tone confident but playful. “You must be a magician, because every time I look at you, everyone else disappears.”

The man blinked, slowly turning his head to look at Wade. His dark eyes flicked over him, assessing, and for a moment, Wade wondered if he was about to get told to fuck off, which was quite common. To Wade’s delight, the man’s lips twitched, and he let out a low, unexpected chuckle.

“That usually work?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he took a sip of his drink.

Wade grinned, unflappable. “Depends on how many drinks the person’s had. You seem like a tough crowd, though, so I figured I’d start strong.”

The man shook his head, his smirk widening slightly. “Strong? That’s what you call that?”

“Oh, you think that’s bad?” Wade replied, leaning in just enough to close the space between them without crowding. “I’ve got worse. Wanna hear another one?”

The man tilted his head, as though debating whether to humor him. After a beat, he nodded. “Alright. Hit me.”

Wade straightened, his grin turning mischievous. “Are you a parking ticket? Because you’ve got ‘fine’ written all over you.”

The man actually laughed this time, a low, rumbling sound that sent a little thrill through Wade’s chest. “That’s terrible,” he said, shaking his head. “You really go around saying stuff like that to people?”

“Only the good-looking ones,” Wade shot back without missing a beat. “Lucky you, huh?”

The man took another sip of his drink, his smirk lingering. “You always this cheesy?”

“You have no idea,” Wade replied, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “But hey, at least I made you laugh. That’s gotta count for something, right?”

The man gave him a long, measuring look, as though trying to figure him out. “It does,” he admitted finally. “Most people don’t even try to talk to me, let alone… whatever this is.”

“It’s called charm,” Wade said with mock seriousness. “Look it up. But don’t worry, I’m here to make up for all those missed opportunities.”

The man shook his head, clearly amused despite himself. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Stick around, and you’ll find out just how much ‘something else’ I can be,” Wade said with a wink.

The man regarded him with a thoughtful look before deciding on something. He stuck out his hand.

“Logan.”

Wade grinned like he won a prize. He clasped Logan’s hand, giving it a firm shake.

“Wade.”

The drinks kept coming, and with each one, their conversation grew easier, more comfortable. Wade talked about his favorite terrible movies, his inexplicable love for pineapple on pizza (“Don’t judge me—it’s a bold choice, like me!”), and the time he accidentally got locked in a walk-in freezer for an hour during his first job. Logan, in turn, shared snippets of his life, his love of the outdoors, his tendency to collect books he never quite found the time to read, and his fondness for classic rock.

“You’re full of surprises, you know that?” Wade said at one point, swirling his drink. “I figured you for the silent, mysterious type. Turns out you’re kind of an open book.”

Logan smirked. “Only for the people who bother to read.”

Wade leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “Well, I hope you’ve got a long sequel planned, because I’m hooked.”

Logan chuckled, his gaze lingering on Wade for a moment longer than necessary. “You’re relentless,” he said again, but there was no edge to it this time. Just quiet admiration.

“Only when it’s worth it,” Wade replied softly, the usual teasing edge in his voice replaced with something more genuine.

By the time the bar began to wind down, the two of them had migrated to a corner booth, their drinks forgotten as they talked about anything and everything. Logan leaned back against the worn leather, his posture more relaxed than it had been all night, while Wade gestured animatedly as he recounted another ridiculous story from his past.

“You’re something else,” Logan said finally, his voice low but warm.

Wade’s grin widened. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“It is,” Logan said simply, his gaze steady. “A big one.”

For once, Wade was momentarily speechless, the sincerity in Logan’s tone catching him off guard. He quickly recovered, though, flashing a cheeky smile. “Careful, Logan. That could be classed as flirting.”

Logan leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Maybe I am.”

The air between them shifted, the playful banter giving way to something quieter, more charged. Wade felt his heart skip a beat, but he played it off with a soft laugh. “Well, lucky for you, I’m into it.”

Logan chuckled, nodding toward the door. “Do you wanna get out of here?”

Wade arched an eyebrow. “Oh, so now you’re making the moves? Bold. I like it.”

Logan smirked, standing and grabbing his jacket. “Let’s just say you’ve charmed me into seeing where this goes.”

Wade laughed, following him out of the bar. “Oh, Babycakes, you have no idea what you’ve signed up for.”

As they stepped into the cool night air, Wade felt a rush of excitement unlike anything he’d felt in a long time.

Wade woke up to the faint light of early morning, the blue between night and day, casting soft shadows over the room. For a moment, he didn’t move as he stared at the ceiling. His body still ached pleasantly from the night before, and he felt a warmth in his chest that he wasn’t used to. A warmth that had everything to do with the man sleeping beside him.

Turning his head, Wade looked at Logan. He was still fast asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily, his face soft and peaceful. He looked younger like this than he did last night, the hard edges of last night smoothed out by sleep. Wade smiled despite himself, his fingers twitching with the urge to reach out and trace the curve of Logan’s jaw.

But then reality hit.

This was just a one-night thing, Wade reminded himself. A bit of fun. That’s all it was meant to be. Logan didn’t strike him as the type to be looking for anything serious, and Wade wasn’t exactly great at sticking around when things got complicated. Better to leave now before there were any awkward goodbyes or lingering looks that could mess things up.

Carefully, Wade slipped out from under Logan’s arm, holding his breath as he moved. Logan stirred slightly, murmuring something incoherent, but didn’t wake. Wade quickly pulled on his clothes, glancing around the room as he debated leaving a note.

No. Better clean break. He didn’t want to risk Logan feeling obligated to reach out just because Wade left something behind.

With one last glance at Logan, still sleeping soundly, blissfully unaware, Wade slipped out of the apartment and into the cool morning air.

Logan woke a few hours later, stretching lazily as the memories of the night before came flooding back. A small smile tugged at his lips as he rolled over, expecting to find Wade still there.

But the bed was empty.

Logan blinked, his smile faltering as he reached out, his hand landing on the cool, rumpled sheets. He sat up, glancing around the room. “Wade?” he called, his voice rough from sleep.

There was no response.

He got out of bed, grabbing a pair of sweatpants as he wandered through the apartment. The living room was empty, the bathroom door was wide open, and the kitchen was untouched. It didn’t take long for the realization to sink in. Wade was gone.

Logan’s heart sank as he leaned against the kitchen counter, running a hand through his hair. He’d had such a good time last night. Not just the physical part, though that had been incredible, but the way Wade had made him laugh, the way they’d clicked so effortlessly. He’d been looking forward to seeing where it might go, maybe even suggesting breakfast together.

But there was no note, no message, not even a phone number left behind. Just the empty echo of the best night he’d had in a while.

Logan sighed, pouring himself a cup of coffee and staring out the window. Disappointment settled heavy in his chest, and though he tried to shake it off, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d read things wrong. Maybe Wade had just been looking for a bit of fun, nothing more.

Still, as Logan sipped his coffee, he couldn’t quite shake the hope that their paths might cross again. Because if there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that Wade had left an impression, one Logan wasn’t likely to forget anytime soon.

Wade adjusted his tie nervously, still feeling the faint sting of guilt from slipping out of Logan’s apartment the previous morning. But he pushed it to the back of his mind. New day, new start, he told himself. Today was his first day at a new job, a marketing company that seemed promising, with good pay and plenty of room for growth. He was determined to make a good impression and keep his focus on work.

He was shown to his cubicle, a small but tidy space surrounded by the usual buzz of office life. Wade spent a few minutes setting up his desk, arranging his pens and notebooks just so, before logging into his computer. He was just starting to familiarize himself with the company software when, about an hour later, a meeting was called.

“Conference room, nine sharp,” a colleague said, leaning over the edge of Wade’s cubicle. “Everyone on the team’s required.”

Wade nodded, grabbing a notebook and pen before joining the stream of employees heading toward the meeting room. He took a deep breath, straightened his posture, and walked inside.

And immediately froze.

Standing at the front of the room, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit that clung to him in all the right ways, was Logan. His hair was neatly styled, his broad shoulders filling out the jacket perfectly, and he exuded an air of authority that made Wade’s stomach flip.

Logan noticed him almost instantly, his eyes widening briefly in shock before he quickly schooled his expression into a mask of professionalism. He turned his attention to the boss at the head of the table, his jaw tight but otherwise unreadable.

Wade felt his blood drain from his face as he took a seat near the back, his mind racing. No. No, no, no. This cannot be happening. He’d known he was starting a new job, but he hadn’t known Logan worked here. And from the looks of it, Logan wasn’t just an employee, he was in charge.

As the meeting began, Wade’s stomach sank further when the boss at the head of the table introduced himself and began outlining the company structure. Wade quickly realized the man speaking wasn’t his direct boss. He was the head of the department. And his actual boss, the person who’d be overseeing his team directly, was none other than Logan.

Wade swore silently in his head. Of all the jobs in the city…

He avoided looking at Logan throughout the meeting, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on his notebook and scribbling aimlessly. But he could feel Logan’s gaze on him every so often, and the weight of it made his skin prickle.

When the meeting finally ended, Wade bolted for the door, keeping his head down as he made his way back to his desk. His heart was pounding, and his mind was spinning with the sheer absurdity of the situation.

#poolverine #deadclaws #peanutbub #deadpool 3 #logan howlett #wade wilson

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gem-femmes · 2 days ago

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Social Grace 101: Small Gestures That Make a Big Difference

The best way to leave a lasting impression isn’t with grand gestures or over-the-top charm. It’s with small, thoughtful actions that show respect, kindness and awareness.

Here’s how to master the subtle art of social grace:

🕊️1. Say Hello First

It takes just a second, but being the one to greet someone first shows confidence and warmth. It makes people feel noticed and valued.

I remember walking into a business event where I didn’t know anyone. I spotted someone standing alone and said, “Hi, I’m Elise. It’s nice to meet you.” We ended up chatting for half an hour, and later they introduced me to others. That small act of saying hello first turned a potentially awkward evening into a productive one.

🕊️2. Remember and Use People’s Names

Nothing makes someone feel more seen than hearing their name. If you struggle with names, make it a point to repeat it when you’re introduced or find creative ways to remember it.

At networking events, I jot down people’s names in my phone with little notes like “Loves hiking” or “Dog named Milo”. When I follow up, I would say “How’s Milo doing?” instead of a generic, “It was nice meeting you.” The responses I get are always enthusiastic.

🕊️3. Master the Art of the Introduction

Introducing people is an underrated social superpower. It shows you’re paying attention to both parties and care about helping them connect.

At a dinner party, I introduced two acquaintances by saying, “You both love art. Lia just got back from Florence, and Ren works at the local gallery.” They hit it off instantly and later Ren told me “You’re great at bringing people together.”

🕊️4. Notice the Details

Whether it’s complimenting someone’s outfit or commenting on their choice of book, small observations show you’re paying attention.

I once told someone at a meeting “I love that pen, it’s so unique.” They smiled and said they were a collector, still writing everything by hand. That tiny compliment led to a heartfelt conversation that built a connection beyond the usual work talk.

🕊️5. Be Attuned to Group Dynamics

Social grace often means knowing when to talk and when to step back. If someone’s being interrupted or overlooked, help them find their moment to shine.

At a group dinner, I noticed a quieter guest hadn’t spoken much. When the conversation turned to books, I said “Noa, didn’t you just finish something you loved?” She lit up and started sharing, and the table leaned in to listen. Later, she thanked me for giving her the space to speak.

🕊️6. Apologize and Mean It When You Get It Wrong

Nobody’s perfect. If you step on someone’s toes (literally or figuratively), a genuine apology can go a long way.

During a work meeting, I accidentally interrupted someone. I immediately said, “I’m sorry, please go ahead.” They smiled and the meeting flowed better afterward.

🕊️7. End with Grace

How you leave a conversation matters just as much as how you enter it. A warm goodbye and a note of appreciation can make someone’s day.

At the end of a conference, I said to a speaker I liked, “I really appreciated your insights, it gave me a new perspective.” Weeks later, they remembered me and sent me resources related to their talk. That simple goodbye kept the connection alive.

Practice these small gestures and you’ll leave a trail of positive impressions wherever you go.

#social skills #social climbing #networking #luxury #high society #hypergamy #business

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quintessenceofdust88 · 2 days ago

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It was really hard to choose so I'm asking for both of my favourites 🙏 please

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊 (this one i really want to see a full fic cause it's so intriguing)

🍼🍼🍼🍼

Hi my love! Ofc you can have bothhh, no need to choose in this house hehe!

Let's start with 20-ish sentences of Tsunami goodness, continuing from here (all previous snippets here). I hope you like it! ♥

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

It’s indeed a little girl, she can’t be older than six; her light yellow summer dress is wet and covered in grime and leaves, and so is her hair which is styled in two well done pigtails; her arms are wrapped around a bright unicorn plushie. She’s looking down at him, her deep blue eyes filled with fear, a few tears running down her red cheeks. It breaks Buck’s heart.

“Hey!” Buck says; he doesn’t see any injuries, but he won’t move her until he’s sure. “I’m gonna help you, ok? Are you hurt?”

“N-no…” She tells him with a sniffle. “But Uncle Sal is, and the water took him, and I didn’t see him anymore! And…. And I wanted to go after him, but Daddy always says I should wait for rescue if bad things happen!...”

She’s starting to cry again, and Buck thanks the universe for whoever is the sensible parent of this child, because even if she isn’t hurt now, she would be if she had tried to get down on her own.

“Okay, kiddo, first of all let’s get you down here safely. Then you can tell me about your uncle Sal, alright? What’s your name?” He asks her.

“Genevieve Kinard” She recites dutifully. “But you can call me Vivie”

Buck has the faintest impression there's something familiar about that name, but he shakes it off, not having time to think about it right now. He nods at her with what he hopes is a kind smile even though exhaustion is starting to creep its way into him once again. He’s losing precious time in his search for Chris, but he can’t just abandon a little child; he knows that, if someone found Chris in the middle of all of this, he’d want them to keep him safe.

“Okay, Vivie. I'm Evan, but you can call me Buck” He tells her, and then raises his arms toward her. “Alright, Vivie, you’re gonna have to be super brave, because I'm gonna ask you to jump, and then I'll catch you. Do you think you can do that?”

It wouldn't be unreasonable for her to be scared; the situation is stressful, and the top of a pick-up must feel quite high for a little girl. But she nods without hesitation, scooching closer to the edge of the pick-up and looking down at him.

“Kinda like playing toss?” She asks, and Buck can only assume that’s a game someone plays with her, and he hopes to God it’s similar to what he’s planning to do.

(Blobs under the cut)

And here are 16-ish sentences of Little Blobs, ch. 5, for you, continuation from here;

-🍼

“Hey, sweetie, are you ready?” Tommy asks, and Buck glares at him with the force of a thousand suns for daring to ask the question so inconsiderately.

“Oh, that’s so easy for you to say, you have clothes that fit you!” Buck exclaims, crossing his arms, he realizes he’s being irrational, but he doesn’t care.

Tommy, to his credit, manages not to laugh, though he still looks slightly amused by Buck’s outburst. He also doesn’t look offended, which tells Buck just how good of a husband he has.

He’s still upset and pouty when Tommy approaches him, placing a small kiss to the side of his head, and then kneeling down and pressing another one to his swollen bump, a small smile on his face.

“Hey, blobs, you’re getting too big for Daddy’s clothes in there? You’re growing so fast!” He tells them, his voice enthusiastic, but Buck notices his gaze is slightly saddened, and bites his lips, deciding now is not the moment to address it.

He’s been noticing a few moments where Tommy gets that sad, far away look in his eyes, ever since they came back from Indiana. Buck can only imagine how bad it must have felt for Tommy, seeing his father like that, and he wonders if that’s what’s still rattling him. He can’t relate that much; his relationship with his own father, while certainly not perfect, was never this antagonistic. Maybe Tommy just needs some time to brush it off. Thinking about his father reminds Buck of the fact he still hasn’t told his parents about the babies, and he has to do it before it’s awkward. It’s not that he hasn’t meant to, but they haven’t had a video call in a long time, and they still weren’t telling people back then. He’s been meaning to schedule a new one for weeks, but things have been hectic. Maybe he’ll text them tomorrow and get it over with.

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #gabby writes #little blobs #little blobs verse #mpreg #life is changin' tides #tsunami fic

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eekitseve · 7 months ago

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Where having a penpal gets you

#my art #gateau art #commissions open #sf #smiling friends #smiling friends spoilers #sf spoilers #sf pim #pim pimling #cw rope #cw blood #for followers that aren’t sf fans #one I’m really impressed you’re still here #two this is a scene from the most recent episode I need to clarify #the scenes write themselves

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not-neverland06 · 5 months ago

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you're not her

The 'Worst' Logan x fem!mutant!reader

a/n: really wanted to write for the worst logan so I found a streaming site so I could finally watch the new Deadpool movie (yay pirating) (this is totally hypothetical and a joke to the feds lurking) I was going to just read the wiki plot but I don’t think that was going to cut it Again, using the same superhero name/powers. It’s not an OC I swear, it just makes sense in comic book movies to have some alternate name and I’m not creative enough to come up with multiple different supe names. Summary: You hate him, you really fucking hate him at first. He’s cruel and constantly reminds you that you’ll never be the hero he knew. You’re not her and he’s made that abundantly clear. But what are you supposed to do when he’s suddenly your new roommate and you have no choice but to wake up to his face every day? I feel sad because I don’t think I did the angst justice with this one. But if I keep staring at it trying to fix it, then I’m never going to post it. (This is a long one guys) Angst with a happy ending (because I’m a little bitch) Makeout scenes and smut towards the very end 18+ MDNI

You don’t know how you got here, but you know you’re mad at whoever dragged you into this shit. You don’t think it would be wild to assume it was Wade’s fault. Usually, when something goes wrong in your life it’s on him.

What you do know; you look like shit. Wade and Wolverine are both standing over you in their awesome ass uniforms and you’re still in your fucking pajamas. How are you supposed to be badass and save the world in pants that have Spiderman’s face plastered all over them?

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Wade,” you growl at him.

He places his hand daintily on his chest and waves you off, “Save that for the bedroom, pookie.”

You grit your teeth and glare up at him, Wolverine gives him a similarly disgusted look. “Fuckin’ ridiculous,” you grumble under your breath. You get to your feet and brush yourself off, finally looking around and taking in wherever the fuck he’s dragged you. “Where are we?”

“The void,” Wade responds, voice ridiculously dramatic. You look around and throw your hands up in defeat.

“What the fuck, Wade? Why did you drag me with you into this?” You look over at the Wolverine beside him. He hasn’t stopped glaring at you both and his claws are out, clearly ready to just eviscerate you. “Who the fuck is this?”

“Okay, wow, language, Flux. I’m disappointed in you.”

“Eat me-”

You’re cut off by the knock-off Wolverine standing a few feet behind you both. “Flux?” He demands, voice so low you almost can’t hear him. Both you and Wade’s heads whip around to face him. Thus far he’s been relatively silent, you nearly started to wonder if he was mute.

“It’s her X-Man name,” Wade tells him, gushing like it’s some big deal. “Impressive, huh?” You don’t bother correcting him that it was your X-Men name. Can’t exactly call yourself that if they booted you off the team for being a crappy superhero.

Logan snorts and shakes his head. He stalks towards you and you nearly fall over in your attempt to scramble back from him. “You,” he demands, claws pointed at you threateningly. “You’re Flux?”

Wade hisses, watching as Logan swipes out at you. “Alright, peanut, let’s put the claws away and take a deep grounding breath.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Logan snaps at Wade. He turns to glare at him and you take the opportunity to scramble behind your friend for protection. At least if he gets stabbed, he’ll heal. “You,” he scoffs and it trails off into a laugh. There’s no humor behind it, he's just a dick. “You are a fucking joke compared to my Flux.”

The ground underneath you rattles, pebbles bouncing off the cracked desert and ricocheting off their boots. Wade quickly moves away from you, shoving you forward so he’s not in the line of fire. “Yeah, well you’re just an alcoholic fuck who could never hold a candle to my Logan.”

You can feel energy brewing at the tips of your fingers, waves, and waves of hate building up within you. The man across from you feels the shift, the static suddenly permeating the air around you both. You let your power build and build…

The pebbles drop back to the ground and you stumble back from Logan, nose bleeding from overextending yourself. “Shit,” you mutter, wiping at your face with the back of your hand and shaking your head.

Logan laughs again, it echoes through the stormy sky and you wish you had any control over your powers so you could just send him flying. Or, better yet, turn his bones into liquid and flip him inside out. “Oh,” he lets out a long exhale, glaring at both of you. “This is fuckin’ ridiculous.” The faux smile drops from his face and he raises his voice just loud enough to make you jump, “Just one big fuckin’ joke!”

You have about five seconds to dive to the side before Logan is lunging at Wade. “Wait, wait, wait we can talk about this!” Wade shouts, but it’s too late, he’s already on the ground getting his head caved in.

You let out a rough sigh, stumbling off to the side. You’re drained from that shitshow of powers. You barely made a few rocks levitate and you feel like you’re going to pass out. You walk away from the two men and throw yourself on the ground, trying to reorient yourself while they fight like wild animals.

You can hear them in the background, stabbing and shooting like they’re aiming to kill. Too bad neither of them can die. It’d save you a hell of a headache. They run past you, Logan’s got his claws buried in Wade’s gut while Wade’s desperately firing off his gun into Logan’s chest.

Your head rolls weakly to the side and you mutter out a pathetic, “No, stop. Don’t kill each other.” As expected, neither of them listens to you. They keep fighting, showing no signs of stopping.

There’s a moment of silence after about ten minutes of nothing but grunts and insults. You peak your head up in interest. Logan got his claws posed over Wade’s throat. You wonder if decapitation would actually kill him or if he’d somehow manage to survive that.

Wade doesn’t seem interested in testing out the theory, “They can fix it!” Wade shouts, “They can fix your timeline. I just need your help saving mine.”

Your eyes widen and you meet Wade’s masked gaze over Logan’s shoulders. The white slits widen and he minutely shakes his head, telling you not to say anything. Like, maybe, that neither of you has any fucking clue if the TVA is capable of even fixing timelines like that.

You know Wade is desperate when he makes that promise. It’s the only reason he would say something so stupid. It’s a blatant lie, one pulled so far out of Wade’s ass you’re genuinely surprised that Logan can’t smell the bullshit. Whatever happened in his universe must have been horrible for him to ever believe anything that comes out of any Deadpool’s mouth.

It’s a long moment before Logan finally pulls his claws out of Wade. Your friend slumps forward in relief as Logan stalks away from him. You glare at Wade from where you are on the ground, “That was fucking stupid,” you snipe at him. He gets to his feet, walks over to you, and forcefully yanks you to your feet.

“Not a goddamn word,” he warns, but you aren’t exactly threatened by him when he's got three holes in his head from Logan’s claws. Still, you hold your hands up and acquiesce, following after him as he chases down Logan.

Your mind is still fuzzy when you are captured by Cassandra. You're recovering from overextending yourself, eyes blurring and limbs going limp like jello when her army of henchmen circle you all.

You finally feel yourself starting to come back to your body when you wake up tied to Johnny. “And,” Wade draws the word out, waiting until you lift your head to finish, “there she is! Happy you could join us, princess. Mind turning these ropes into dust for me?”

You groan and let your head slump onto Johnny’s shoulder. He smirks and glances down at you. “Oh fuck off, both of you. I can’t do shit right now and you know it, Wade, I’m drained.”

Logan is glaring at you, but there’s less hate in his glare and more confusion now. “Can you do anything?”

You narrow your eyes at him, lips screwed up while you try to decide if he’s being an asshole or genuine. “Hard of hearing or something old man? I’m drained,” you reiterate, your tone a little too bitchy.

Logan narrows his eyes, grunting something foul under his breath. Wade interferes before you can piss each other off anymore. “She had an accident, her brain’s a little broken now. But it’s fine! Whose isn’t?”

You huff and throw yourself back against the cage you’re all being transported in. You feel eyes on the side of your head and slowly look over to see Johnny grinning at you. “Hey, you know I’ve met one of your variants-”

“Don’t give a fuck,” you interrupt. You hear Wade snicker under his mask, giving you an encouraging thumbs up even with his hands bound. You were both a little disappointed it wasn’t Captain America lurking under that cloak. But at least this guy isn’t such a prude he won’t cuss.

For the next five minutes, you’re on the receiving end of a very enthusiastically vulgar rant about just what a cunt Cassandra Nova is. He’s still not even finished by the time you reach the gates to her lair.

Your eyes widen when you see all the people lurking around the walls. Most of them you recognize as people you’ve put away or killed in your world. But there’s something just minutely different about them than the version you faced in your timeline. Their eye color or outfit is always just slightly off.

The familiar faces are almost a relief. But there is nothing comforting about knowing you're outnumbered two hundred to four. The cage is tipped over and you go rolling out, you grunt as Johnny’s elbow digs into your ribs.

Before you can even attempt to shove him off, the ropes are whipped off of you and you’re dragged by an invisible force across the ground. Rocks and sand scrape across your tender skin and bury themselves deep in your pores. You hiss in pain when you finally come to a stop and your body is your own again.

A groan slips through your parted lips unbidden as you struggle onto your knees. Your pajamas are ripped practically everywhere and you feel like you might as well be naked at this point. You really wished that you at least had a chance to change before you were kidnapped to another universe.

The woman you presume to be Cassandra Nova is currently fucking Wade’s skull with her freakish telepathy fingers. Johnny’s a pile of guts and bones on the floor and you have no fucking clue where she flung Logan to.

You get to your feet, shaking your head and reorienting yourself. In a second she’s in front of you, head tilted to the side while she regards you curiously. “Woah,” you jump back, glaring at her outstretched hand.

“Careful,” Wade warns her breathlessly, still clutching his head. “Flux here has a pathological fear of bald people.”

You nod, “It’s true, you can imagine how strained my relationship with your brother was.” Cassandra circles you, a devious tilt to her lips. Your eyes track her, unwilling to take your gaze off her for even a second. You feel like a rabbit, facing down a fox that’s made its way into your burrow.

“Curious,” she mutters. “I’ve seen quite a few of you down here before. But,” she chuckles and before you can move her hand is shoving its way into your brain. You scream, there’s an agonizing burn as her fingers probe under your eyes and dig through the deepest part of your subconscious. It feels like someone’s taking a shovel and ripping up your worst traumas. “None of them have been so weak.”

Wonderful, even she wants to insult you. You can feel the way she’s plucking through your thoughts, tossing aside the ones she doesn’t like. Images of your childhood are flashing across your vision. You can no longer see the world around you, it’s like every one of your worst memories is being played on a projector.

“Ah,” she clicks her tongue and jerks your neck around until you’re looking at something you’ve tried to forget for years. “Here it is. How easy it would be for me to simply unblock those powers of yours.” She smiles, her face appearing before you and blocking out the bloodshed. “It would make this far more entertaining for me, what do you say?”

Your teeth are clenched so tightly you’re surprised they haven’t cracked yet. It’s hard to get the words out when her fingers are still dancing through your skull. “Fuck you,” you finally spit out. She releases you suddenly, and you surge forward with a gasp, clutching at your skull desperately.

You half expect your brains to begin leaking from your nose and eyes. But nothing happens, despite feeling incredibly violated, everything is still in its proper place. Cassandra walks past you like everything is fine and dandy in the world. “Well, as much as I would love to see those powers of yours in action again, Flux, I’m afraid Alioth must eat.”

Before you can ask what she's talking about there’s a loud rumble. Like thunder cracking through the sky and land, the ground underneath you shakes. Cracks form under your feet and the henchmen around you all start desperately racing for cover.

You turn around, staring wide-eyed at the purple cloud of death and destruction steadily moving across the sky. A face breaks through the clouds, grinning down at you. Purple lightning hits the ground and the villain next to you explodes into nothing but dust.

“Shit!” You shout, turning around and running to try and avoid getting zapped up next. There’s no coming back from this one. Once this monster gets you, not even god could save you.

Suddenly, an arm wraps around your waist, lifting you off your feet. “No time for consent, we’ve got to get the fuck outta here!” Wade shouts in your ear. Logan is standing next to some robot leg, ripping out cords until a jet on the back fires up. Wade leaps onto the boot, wrapping an arm around Logan’s legs as you’re all shot into the sky.

You’d scream if you weren’t trying not to throw up. You hurtle through the sky at speeds that have your skin nearly ripping off your skull. The rocket on the back of the leg starts to sputter out. The flames flickering out and then back to life. It steadily begins to drop until you’re plummeting headfirst towards the ground.

Wade wraps himself around you, tossing himself off the boot so he can brace your fall. You hear and feel nearly all of his bones break under your weight. For a moment it feels like you’re laying on warm jello as you try and catch your breath.

“Nailed it,” he mutters weakly. You’re pretty sure he can’t breathe, a rib having pierced his lung in the fall. A shadow looms over you and you glance up to find Logan glaring down at you. You stare at him apprehensively, half expecting him to unsheathe his claws and just end you right here.

Instead, to your surprise, he holds a hand out. You look at it with suspicion, glaring back up at him. “Fucks sake,” he mutters. He reaches down, roughly grabbing your hand and jerking you to your feet. You feel the warmth of Wade’s blood on your back and grimace.

“Thanks,” you mutter, still not entirely trusting of him.

He purses his lips into a thin line, backing awkwardly away from you. He just nods and starts surveying the land around you. It feels less like trying to figure out where you all landed and more like awkwardly avoiding eye contact.

The whole interaction leaves you feeling odd. “Well, that was as awkward as two virgins on prom night,” Wade loudly announces as he jumps to his feet. You whip around and send him a dirty look but his attention has already been snagged by something else. Lately, you’ve been considering grounding up Adderall and slipping it into his breakfast, you think it might do him some good.

What’s got to be the fugliest dog you’ve ever seen in your life bounds towards Wade. He drops to his knees, ripping off his mask and opening his arms wide to the mutt. You grimace, taking a step back when she starts licking his face. “Oh, that’s just wrong.”

Thankfully dogless, you steal Nicepool’s Honda Odyssey - much to Wade’s chagrin. Logan’s in the front seat, Wade beside him. You’re sitting in the back, rubbing your temples and trying to get rid of the raging migraine you’ve had since Cassandra finger blasted your brain.

You’ve been zoning in and out of the conversation happening in the front seat of the car. But Logan suddenly slams on the brakes and you go hurtling forward. Without even looking at you, both their arms shoot out, blocking you from flying through the windshield.

Your face scrunches up as you look at both their arms, it feels like being saved by an overbearing soccer mom. “Buckle up, princess,” Wade tells you. He shoves you back into your seat and you look between the two men suspiciously.

“Did you just say if?” Logan growls, glaring at Wade. Your face drops, finally realizing what you’d missed.

Wade lets out a weak chuckle, “Slip of the tongue?” Logan growls and the claws come out. Wade raises his hands, “Okay, let’s put a brake on the crazy train. I wasn’t lying it was just an educated,” for the first time in your friendship Wade is actually speechless. You’re shocked by the silence. Until, of course, he runs his mouth again and comes up with the lamest cop-out you’ve ever heard. “It was an educated wish that they could fix your timeline, alright?”

Logan doesn’t give much of a warning except a low growl before he shoves his claws deep into Wade’s thigh. “You motherfucker!”

“Hey!” You shout, jumping forward and ripping Logan’s claws out of Wade’s leg. “Look, we’re trying to save our whole fucking universe. Can you blame him for lying?” You regret opening your mouth pretty much immediately.

You should have just stayed out of this, it wasn’t any of your business. And if they wanted to be two dumbasses and fucking tear each other apart then so be it. But you never should have drawn attention to yourself.

“Shut the fuck up,” Logan shouts at you. It’s so startling, coming from him. You’re still associating him with the man you’d looked up to growing up. Your Wolverine was a hero. He was the reason you wanted to be an X-Man. And they look exactly the same, it’s nearly impossible for you to separate this one from the one you knew.

But it's easier now. Because the man you’d known would never be so cruel and jaded to the world. Not like this. “Why the fuck are you even here? You’re just some watered-down knockoff of a real hero. You are nothing, you’re worth nothing. It’s a fucking joke that you’re alive and the woman I knew is buried six feet deep. If there was anything right in the world you would be in a grave somewhere crawling with maggots.”

Your eyes water without your permission. You don’t know this man. Yet, he has the face of your greatest hero and the man who you’d grown up hearing stories about. It’s like facing everything you’ve ever wanted to be and having it shout your deepest fears and insecurities back at you. He’s just confirming something you’ve known for years. You never deserved the title of being an X-Man. You never deserved the uniform or anything that came with it.

Your breaths are coming short and fast, it feels like your lungs are constricting. You worry you won’t be able to get air in but he doesn’t care. No, he keeps going. “You follow this fucking clown around and you contribute nothing to the world. You’re never gonna save your fucking timeline. You can’t even make a few rocks float.” It’s not the words that hurt you next. It’s the way he says it. “You’re pathetic.”

He spits them at you. There’s venom lacing his tone like he’s seen into you and knows there’s nothing in you to offer. For the first time in a long time, you feel seen and you hate it. Because he’s looking past the sarcasm and the faux confidence you carry yourself with.

He sees the empty husk of a woman you truly are and he’s forcing you to face it with him. It causes you physical pain, to know that everything you’ve ever feared about yourself is true. You don’t have anything to say to him, you can’t.

Your lips tremble and you feel so fucking small. You can hear your parent's voices in your head, screaming at you and wishing you were never born. They’d rather have a stillborn than a fucked up mutant for a daughter. You see the way even other kids at the school would hide from you. You were made wrong, even as a mutant you were never truly accepted.

Logan’s face drops ever so slightly at the prolonged silence in the car. Even Wade isn’t speaking, he’s just staring at you both. “I,” he starts, but Wade cuts him off.

“I’m gonna hurt you now.” Wade’s never been one to let people run over you, even when you might just let yourself fall into the background. You shouldn’t be surprised when he draws a knife and stabs it into Logan’s throat.

But the arterial spray that follows catches you off guard and suddenly your tears are dried. Instead, you’re throwing open the car door and diving out before one of them crushes you. You make it out of the car just in time, Logan having thrown Wade right where you had been sitting.

Music starts up in the car as a result of their fighting. Divorced dad rock and the sounds of their, borderline, sexual grunting are your soundtrack for the rest of the night. You curl up at the base of a tree, waiting for them to be done with each other.

Logan’s words continue to echo through your head. And the longer you linger on what he said the angrier you get. Not necessarily at him, but at yourself. You’ve let yourself linger in self-pity and wallow in regret for so long.

You look in the mirror and you no longer recognize yourself. He’s right, as much as you hate to admit it, you’re a fucking joke. You toss your head back, slamming it against the trunk of the tree hard enough for it to hurt.

There’s this manic, cloying feeling tugging at your chest. It’s like someone’s sitting on your ribs, crushing you until you can’t breathe anymore. You keep throwing your head back, letting the pain distract you until you feel warm blood leaking down the back of your scalp.

“Shit,” you hiss, hand coming up to cradle the back of your skull. You wince when you feel the split in your skin. The blood leaks over the tips of your fingers, running through the cracks of your palm.

You force yourself to relax, to move your head away from the tree. As you go to stand up, possibly to get Wade and Logan to quit their fighting, you notice something odd. The air around you is still, you can no longer hear them grunting or groaning as they rock the Honda.

Leaves are suspended in the air. They’re not trembling from the breeze, they’re completely frozen. You take a step forward and gasp when you hit something solid. The air in front of you has solidified somehow.

The realization dawns on you slowly but surely. This is you, you’ve done this. Manipulated everything around you on an atomic level. You’ve turned something you shouldn’t be able to feel into something you can touch. Frozen the world around you. Whatever Cassandra had done inside your head, it had knocked something loose.

You haven’t had this wide a range of control for years. Any attempt to do something like this has been met with nosebleeds and long periods of blacking out. Elation fills you, the hurt from earlier is nearly gone.

You glance through the wall of air and try to see if you can still see the Odyssey. To your horror, it’s gone. You wave your hands and the air returns to normal. The leaves drift back to the forest floor and you run back to where you’d left the two men.

There are tire tracks dug deep into the mud. You know Wade wouldn’t willingly leave you behind, not here. You don’t know if Logan’s just kidnapped him or if someone else has. Whoever was driving was clearly in a rush to get out of here.

You must have missed it all while you were having your meltdown. “Fuck,” you shout, your voice echoing into the branches above. You take in a deep breath and start walking. Hopefully, you can catch up to them before whoever has them does serious damage.

You make it to a weird cave/hideout area. The Odyssey is parked outside and when you peek through the broken windows you find the interior completely destroyed. There’s blood soaking through every surface, anything and everything has been smashed and bent the wrong way.

You don’t even know if this is from Wade and Logan or whoever had snatched them. Shaking your head you back up and slink towards the entrance of the den. You can hear shouting inside, it sounds like Wade, but you can’t make out what he’s saying.

You haven’t seen action for a long time. At least not any that you could actually contribute to. It feels a bit like riding a bike. You’d practiced on your way here, making things around you float or eradicating a few trees into nothing but dust in the wind. But this is different.

Your friend (and Logan) are inside, possibly being tortured. Maybe even dead. Though, you seriously doubt the universe is going to be that nice to you. You let the energy build in your arms, it’s like a warm tingling feeling. It shoots down to the palms of your hands until you feel static in the air.

You take a step inside and spot three people. Each of them is decked out in weapons. One of them turns and spots you. “Who is-”

You don’t let him finish, throwing your hands out and slamming them all into the wall so hard the whole interior shakes. Dirt rains down from the ceilings while their faces contort in pain. You run inside, spotting Logan and Wade.

You shoot Wade a big grin but he throws his hands up and shouts, “Read the fucking room!” Your brows furrow and he points emphatically at the people you’re holding, “Good guys!”

“Oh shit,” you release them immediately, a guilty look on your face. “I am so sorry.” Logan cackles in the back, doubled over laughing while the three people in front of you brush themselves off.

You don’t want to be out here with him, but it’s better than being in that cave with the others. Laura walks past you, sending you an uneasy smile. You’d noticed her sitting beside Logan and decided they probably needed a few moments to themselves.

They were finished now, though, and he had the only bottle of liquor left in the cave with him. You trudge over to him, leaves crunching under your boots. Elektra, after that horrific introduction, had given you a uniform a different Flux had left behind.

She was long gone, killed by Cassandra years ago, but she’d conveniently been your exact size. The uniform is nearly identical to the one you have buried under your bed. Black leather with a dark purple X going across your chest and matching purple seams. You’d never wanted something ridiculously flashy. Just something that people would see and associate with the X-Men.

Because that’s all you’d ever wanted to be; a hero. It feels like a pipe dream now. If your pajamas weren’t so destroyed you would have just stayed in them. You don’t feel like you deserve this uniform, not when the woman who’d worn it before you had actually been a hero in her timeline.

“Don’t want company,” Logan snarks, without even looking back to see who’s coming up to him.

You take a seat on the lawn chair closest to him and snatch the bottle of whiskey from his hands. “Good,” you tilt your head back, downing as much as possible. It burns the whole way and you revel in the slight tickle in the back of your throat.

“Alright,” Logan mutters. He gently takes the bottle back from you, giving you an aggrieved look when he sees just how much you’ve stolen. He looks back into the fire and sighs, “Look, I’m not interested in hearing about your sob story or why you’re suddenly drinking all my liquor-”

“Gambit’s liquor,” you interrupt, not bothering to look at him. “And I’m not looking to dump my sob story on your lap. I just want to sit in silence and that’s impossible because Wade hasn’t stopped running his mouth since we got here.”

He looks a little surprised by the brusque way you dismiss him, “Alright,” he mutters. He takes another swig from the bottle and you both stare silently into the fire. It’s like that for a while, you don’t bother keeping track of time.

All you hear is the crackling of the flames. All you can feel is the way your eyes burn from staring into the fire and watching sparks pop off the logs for too long. The breeze rustles the trees, makes the leaves shake free and dance around the logs of the fire.

He breaks the silence first, to your chagrin. “About what I said,” he clears his throat uncomfortably, still refusing to look at you, “back in the car.”

“Don’t,” you snap, voice low. “Just,” you let out a long breath and shake your head. You finally look over and meet his eyes. He does actually look sorry, but you don’t want to hear it. “Just don’t, I deserved it all right.”

“No, no you didn’t.” You open your mouth to argue but he gives you a firm look that has your jaw snapping shut. “I was wrong, I don’t know you. And if my Flux had ever heard me talking to you like that she would have melted my fucking spine.” He laughs a little and you feel your lips twitch up slightly. It’s the first time you’ve seen him look anything but angry.

Curiosity loosens your tongue and knocks you out of the dazed stupor you’ve been in. “What was she like?” You ask, tone earnest. “Your Flux, I mean, you make her sound so amazing. I just can’t,” you trail off, but the look on his face tells you he understands your unspoken words. I just can’t see myself as a real hero.

He groans and leans back on the log he’s resting on. He stretches his legs out in front of him, the liquor bottle placed on the forest floor. You’re surprised, you figured the thing was glued to his hand.

“Well,” he reaches up and scratches at the scruff of his chin, a wry grin on his face. “She was always giving me shit, never let me get away with anything.” You unconsciously lean forward, drawn into the endearing way he begins to describe this other version of you.

It’s not ridiculous to assume this variant meant something to him. He’s got a shine to his eye that you haven’t seen in the whole time you’ve been together. His gaze has been empty, closed off to anything and everything. But now, his eyes are crinkling at the corners, there’s an easy smile on his face that you can’t miss.

“Ah, she was fucking feisty. And strong, she was so strong. She was always a better hero than I was. She lived for that shit,” he trails off and shakes his head. You can see you’re losing him and you don’t want this to end. You’re in your own little bubble right now, getting to pretend there’s a version of you out there somewhere that actually lived up to her potential.

“Her powers,” you blurt out, desperate for something to stop him from retreating back into his mind. “Did she have, um, good control over them?”

Logan nods, eyes darting down to the bottle of whiskey before flickering back up to meet your gaze again. “Yeah, Charles trained her, she was right up there with Jean. She could have,” he stops and suddenly you feel guilty for making him talk about this. You can see the tears in the corner of his eyes, the way the whites of them go red. “She could have been great.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I didn’t mean to pry.” But you did. You were being selfish and forcing him to talk about it even though you knew it would hurt him.

“Look, kid, she would have liked you. I’ll tell you that much,” he says reluctantly. Like the words hurt to force out. You suppose he isn’t used to being genuine with anyone.

You shake your head and look down at your hands. “I appreciate the thought, but I doubt it.”

Logan grabs the bottle again, gulping it down like it's water. His words have a slight slur to them as he speaks again. “I think I would know, bub. ‘Sides, you made it into the X-Men, tells me what I need to know.”

You scoff and fix him with a sardonic look, he raises his brows in question and you roll your eyes. “They’ll take fucking anybody. And I still wasn’t good enough for them.”

Logan shakes his head and frowns. “If what I saw in there,” he points back to the den and you feel your cheeks warm as you remember what you’d done, “is any indication, then I’m sure you were plenty good.”

You lean towards him, elbows braced on your knees. He follows suit, leaning so close you almost want to back up. The proximity flusters you slightly but you shake the feeling off. “You don’t even know me and the first real thing you said to me was that I’d be more useful as fertilizer.”

He sighs, face screwing up at your harsh words. He runs a hand over his cheeks and groans, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You lean back in your chair and idly twirl your hand through the air. The leaves around you lift up and flutter through the air above your head. Logan watches and you turn back to him, waiting until his eyes meet yours to speak again. “Yes, you did. And you were right. I’m fucking useless, powers or not.” The leaves drop, a few fluttering into the fire. “We’re irrelevant, Wolverine, two washed-up X-Men who never looked good in the uniform.”

There’s a twinge of hurt on his face but you can’t make yourself feel bad about it. Since he’s such a fan of brutal truth, you’re sure he can handle it.

You watch as the leaves curl up at the corners, the fire burning them straight through the middle. You get to your feet and move past him. You’re nearly back to the den when he calls, “The suit looks right on you,” over his shoulder.

You pause at the threshold of the door. He’s already drinking again, staring into the fire and watching it burn. You take a few steps towards him, staring at his broad back. “What happened to her, your me?”

Logan looks down at his hands, his ring finger specifically. You wonder at the significance of the movement, what exactly you’d meant to him. “She married me,” he mutters, voice cold and closed off again.

“Goodnight, Logan,” you whisper, finally walking inside the den.

You miss the small goodnight he sends back to you, finally turning around only to watch you leave.

There had been a very clear plan set in place. Get Juggernaut’s helmet, put it on Cassandra, and then kill that psychotic bitch. Which is why you’re so confused when you’re standing knee-deep in guts and watching Logan and Wade leap through a portal above you.

You don’t have time to feel angry or even hurt that they left without you. Laura is grabbing your arm and you’re both running for your life, trying to escape Alioth again. You run into Cassandra’s lair ducking into one of the rooms and dragging Laura with you.

You’re both holding your breaths and praying that he’s sated by the others still outside. After a few minutes, the cracks of thunder stop and you risk peeking your head outside. The clouds have retreated back to their usual spot in the middle of the void.

You take in the carnage of Cassandra’s evil lair. Most everybody is dead. You only have to skirt around a few people to get back to the Odyssey.

You throw yourself in the driver’s seat and sink back against the bloodstained cushions. You let out a relieved breath and look at Laura, “What do you do to entertain yourself around here?”

You acclimated to the idea of being stuck in the void pretty quickly. There wasn’t exactly a lot waiting for you back home. Besides, Laura was nice enough. You had food, beer, and company. You didn’t really need much else.

You’re pretty sure if you linger too long on the thought that Wade left you behind you’ll fall into a depression that you’re never going to be able to claw your way out of. So, you forced a smile on your face and played cards. Nothing else to do but wait to die of old age or for Alioth to kill you.

Of course, your plans had to be ruined. There was an odd rush of air against your back and then a slight whoosh. Laura glanced over your shoulders and her brows furrowed, you turned around to find three armored men waiting behind you.

“Flux,” the man glanced from you to Laura, “X-23?”

“Laura,” you both correct at the same time.

The man gives an aggrieved sigh and holds his arm out, “Come with me, please.”

You stand up, energy tingling in the palms of your hands while you regard them suspiciously. Laura comes up behind you, claws out and glaring at them. “Why should we?” You demand.

Barely a second later you hear the most insufferable voice in the world. “Hiya, peanut!”

“Wade,” you hiss. You follow the armored men through an oddly shaped portal and find Wade standing beside a shirtless Logan, smiling proudly at you. “You fucking left me,” you hold up your hands and his eyes widen.

His hands quickly come up, trying to assuage you, “Hold on now-”

You throw him back, his body hurtling into a nearby building and caving in the wall. Logan watches it happen with a small smile, “Been wanting to do that for a while.”

Once Wade had recovered he filled you in on everything that happened. TVA did a general clean up and then you were standing in front of your apartment door, keys in hand like nothing had happened.

It was so bizarre, going from a mission to save your timeline and then you’re expected to just go about your life. You stay standing in that hallway for you don’t know how long before you hear someone behind you.

You jump and drop your keys when Logan clears his throat. “Shit,” you hiss, whirling around and glaring at him while your heart races. He chuckles and bends over to grab your keys for you.

“Sorry,” he mutters. This is the most relaxed you’ve ever seen him, covered in blood and in a borrowed shirt. “Uh, Wade doesn’t have enough room at his place. Told me I should come over here.”

You look over his shoulder and see Wade peeking his head out of his doorway. He catches your eye, sending you a thumbs up. You almost smile but then he makes a phallic gesture with his hands, pointing at Logan and humping the air. You glare at him and he quickly backs into his apartment, but not before sending you one last encouraging shit-eating grin.

You look back at Logan and he’s waiting expectantly for your answer. “Yeah,” you take your keys from him and unlock the door. “I’ve got a spare room but there’s no bed in it right now.” Your eyes widen when you see the mess that is your apartment.

You quickly rush through, picking up empty take-out boxes and dirty laundry and shoving them into your room. He’s smiling at you when you come back and it's slightly off-putting. “Um,” you gesture towards the couch awkwardly. “You can take the sofa tonight and we’ll look at setting you up with something more permanent tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” he hovers by the armrest and you engage in the longest stare-off of your life. Neither of you says anything for a few suffocating moments before he gestures at himself. “Shower?”

“Oh,” you snap out of your stupor and nod your head. “Yeah, right, of course.” You show him down the hall, “Here. I’ll go get you a towel.”

You rush towards your linen closet, leaving him behind in your bathroom. You grab a few clean towels and then figure he might want some clothes as well. You grab some pajamas that Wade’s left over when he’s crashed before. They’ll probably be a bit tighter on Logan, but you wouldn’t mind seeing that.

You walk back to the bathroom and the thought of knocking doesn’t even run through your head. It should, honestly, but you’re already so thrown off by him even being here. You walk in and immediately gasp and drop the towels.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I’m so sorry.” He’s standing naked before you. Clothes discarded on the floor behind him. Everything on perfect display. Your eyes land on his abs, noticing a few prominent veins leading down-

You cover your face and turn around. “Sorry,” you mutter again. God, you’re such an idiot. You still haven’t even left. You’d just been shamelessly ogling the man naked and you don’t even have the decency to walk out.

You really can’t help it though. It’s been such a clusterfuck, the last 72 hours. Your brain is fried and Wade’s little show hasn’t helped you at all.

You hear Logan laugh behind you. “It’s alright,” he mutters. Something warm ghosts across your arm and you jump slightly. His hand firmly grasps your bicep, gently tugging your palms away from your face.

You risk a glance over your shoulder and nearly gasp at how close he’s gotten. He's towering over you, something in his face you can’t place. “It’s alright,” he whispers again and you find yourself nodding without really thinking.

He’s got both hands on your arms now, trailing up and down. The touch is so featherlight you can barely feel it at all. You don’t even realize how he’s gently coaxing you closer until you trip on the towels at your feet.

You startle, looking down at them and moving to kick them aside. But he stops you, his finger nudging your chip up so you’ll look at him again. There is such blatant want painted across his face that it makes your heart skip a beat. Your breath catches in your throat when he wraps an arm around your waist and drags you closer.

You can feel all of him. You can feel just how much he wants you. It catches you off guard, this sudden display of attraction. You don’t know where it’s coming from, what’s brought it on. But you can’t find it in yourself to care. You’ve been so lonely for so long. You just want to bask in the fact that he looks absolutely starved for you.

No man has ever looked at you with such heartbreakingly yearning eyes - like he’s been looking for you his whole life. He dips down, lips ghosting gently over yours. Your breaths mingle together, you can nearly taste him.

It’s unclear which one of you moves first, who pushes closer to the other. But it doesn’t matter because the second you put real pressure behind the kiss he’s all over you. One of his hands drifts down to your ass, squeezing the flesh there and dragging you closer, grinding his hips into yours.

You moan at the feeling, your arms wrap around his neck and you press yourself even closer. He groans against your lips at the first swipe of your tongue. You part with a gasp when he picks you up, practically tossing you onto your sink. Your legs spread instinctually, making room for him as he slots himself between them.

It’s odd, feeling so vulnerable even when he’s the one who's completely naked. It still feels like he’s holding all the power.

His lips are moving frantically over yours like he’s terrified you’re going to disappear the second he lets go. You can taste something desperate on his tongue. Something deeply rooted inside him that you can’t identify.

One of your hands drifts from his neck, trailing over the muscles of his chest. Your fingers carve a path down his abs, relishing in how muscular he feels under your palm. Your hand reaches his pelvis, nearly wrapped around him when he jumps back.

He grabs your wrist in a grip so tight you know there’s going to be a bruise. A pained gasp slips out and he releases you immediately. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “Sorry, I can’t.” He won’t look at you now, backing up towards the shower and shaking his head. “This was a bad idea, I can’t do this.”

You shake your head, slipping off the sink and hiding your bruised wrist behind your back. “No, sorry, I shouldn’t have moved so fast.”

You feel too ashamed to meet his eye. He kissed you but you feel like you’ve forced yourself on him somehow. It’s a nauseating feeling and you want nothing more than to run back to your room and hide.

He takes a step towards you, something pained on his face. “Kid-”

You just shake your head, step out of the bathroom, and grab the handle of the door. “Sorry,” you whisper again, closing the door behind you. You lean against the cool wood, trying to catch your breath.

Your hand drifts up to your lips, still tingling from how desperately he’d kissed you. It doesn’t make any sense. He came on to you, he threw you up on the sink, and made out with you more passionately than any man ever has before. So why are you the one who feels dirty?

You rush down the hall and into your room, slamming the door behind you. You dive under your covers, closing your eyes even though you know you won’t sleep. No, your shoulders are tensed up to your ears and your bones are vibrating with an energy you need to release.

You’re completely tuned into the other person lurking in your apartment. You can hear as he starts the shower, how he talks quietly to himself sometimes. Then when he gets out you can perfectly picture what he looks like while he’s getting dressed and it only makes you feel worse.

You listen as he leaves the bathroom and pauses in the hall. You can see it in your mind’s eye, how he stares at your door. He walks towards it and lingers for a minute before cussing quietly and heading back into the living room.

You suddenly remember that you didn’t lay sheets out on the couch for him. You feel guilty, but there’s not one part of you that will be dragged from this bed and face him. Not now, at least.

He’s up for a little while longer, getting water. Turning the TV on and off. Rooting through your cabinets looking for booze you know you don’t have. Finally, he settles on the couch. You’re awake for another hour, unable to relax until you’re completely sure he’s asleep. Even as you drift off and your body finally relaxes your mind doesn’t. You keep seeing that stricken look on his face and it makes you sick to your stomach.

It’s the smell of pancakes that wakes you up. You’re not sure when you finally managed to pass out last night but you know it was late. Which is why you’re so pissed off that you’re being forced to get up at seven in the morning.

You’re used to being able to sleep in a lot later than that. You’re already in a pissy mood from last night and it only gets worse as you trudge around your room getting ready. You’ve never been more thankful to have snagged one of the rare two-bathroom apartments in the building.

You don’t want to have to share a bathroom with Logan. You don’t even want to use the other one after what happened last night. It’s too embarrassing and painful to think about. The emotional whiplash of feeling so desired and then absolutely hideous is making your head spin.

You’re sure it was all just a problem on his end, but it really doesn’t make you feel any better. When you can’t stall any longer, and you know that Logan has heard you get up, you slip quietly out of your room.

The curtains in your living room are open and he’s in the kitchen fucking around with your stove. The news is playing quietly on the TV and you’re astounded about how little he’s done and how much more homely your apartment feels.

It’s never really been home to you. Not after you were booted from the X-Men. But he’s somehow made it ten times cozier than it ever has been. You almost resent him a little for it.

“Morning,” he grumbles from the kitchen. “Coffee,” he motions behind him and you see a steaming cup already waiting for you. You silently slip behind him, grabbing the creamer from the fridge and pouring it until you’re sure it’s sweet enough to not actually taste the coffee.

“Thanks,” you mutter, moving to sit at the table. You keep your eyes trained on the TV, pretending to pay attention to the news so you don’t have to look at him. He bores his eyes into the side of your head until you feel like you’re going to have holes in your temple.

When you can’t take it anymore you finally look over at him. He doesn’t smile, his face barely even twitches, he just looks back to his pan and continues scrambling some eggs. “Didn’t know you cooked,” you offer up weakly, already growing anxious from the silence.

It feels wrong, to be walking on eggshells in your own apartment. He grunts and shrugs, “Not really cooking. You had the mix in your pantry,” he tells you brusquely. His tone borders on rude and you scoff.

The audacity of this man to have an attitude with you in your apartment. He was the one who threw a hissy fit last night. You roll your eyes and go back to the news, all it tells you is that the world is just as depressing as the inside of your apartment is right now.

You notice out of the corner of your eye the way his shoulders slump forward. He leans against the oven, seeming not to care if he burns himself. You suppose it doesn’t matter, he’d just heal. “Sorry,” he mutters. It sounds like it pains him to say the words.

“Whatever,” you mumble under your breath. You take a long sip of your coffee, slurping a little so you have something to fill the atmosphere.

He puts some food on a plate and brings it over to the table for you. You usually don’t eat breakfast, preferring to just skip the meal and eat a bigger lunch. But it feels too bitchy to say that to him, so you just accept the food with a strained smile. “Thanks.”

He sits across from you, glaring down at your table like it insulted him. You drag your fork against the plate, letting the scrape of metal against porcelain drown out your worries. Finally, he looks at you. “Look, about last night.”

You tense up. You want to interrupt him, to stop him from explaining. You know it’s just going to hurt your feelings, whatever he says. Whether he tells you it was a mistake or he just realized he’s not attracted to you, either way, you’re fucked. But, it’s also kept you up all night so you just shut your mouth and let him speak.

You keep your gaze trained on your plate, unable to fully face him. He lets out a long sigh and clenches his fork so tight you hear the metal bend. He drops it to the table and clenches and unclenches his fists a few times.

“I just couldn’t kiss you, not when I wasn’t doing it for the right reasons.”

Your brows furrow in confusion and you finally look up at him. “What?” You demand, disbelief coloring your voice.

His eyes are boring into yours, an intensity behind the stare that leaves you feeling a little shaken. “You look like her,” he whispers, and the grief is so thick in his voice it makes your throat tighten. He pauses briefly before continuing. “There are,” he clears his throat like he’s trying not to cry. It makes you lean back in your chair, arms crossed over your stomach uncomfortably.

“There are a few differences, obviously. You’re not a carbon copy. But your mannerisms, your attitudes, you’re so similar. And I,” he shakes his head and gives you one of the most genuinely apologetic looks you’ve ever received. You can tell he really does feel guilty for projecting on you but it doesn’t make you feel any less uncomfortable. “And I just wasn’t doing that for the right reasons. I was pretending you were her and that’s just not fair to you.”

You lean your elbows on the table, head falling into your hands. You let out a rough sigh and groan in irritation. You knew the reason would hurt but you didn’t think it would be this bad. You feel gross, icky under your skin knowing that he was pretending you were another version of yourself. The version of yourself you’ve always wanted to be; the hero.

But you also feel such a deep sadness and sympathy for him. He’d briefly mentioned that he was married to this other you. You can’t even begin to imagine what it would feel like, to see your dead wife’s face staring at you and she doesn’t even know you.

“I,” you don’t even know where to begin. You struggle to say anything for a minute and you both just stew in the tense silence. You take in a deep breath and look up at him. You do what you always do, forcing a smile and shrugging it off. “I appreciate the honesty, really.” You stand up, bringing your still-full plate into the kitchen and busying yourself with cleaning up.

“Clearly,” you snap, your voice crueler than it should be, “It was a mistake. We’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t happen again, right?”

Logan sits silently at the table. He looks like there’s more he wants to say but you don’t give him the chance. You can’t take it. You finally thought someone had wanted you for you, flaws and all. You’re a fucking idiot, he barely even knows you. Whatever connection you thought was there was just brought about by your own loneliness.

“I gotta get ready for work,” you tell his back because he isn’t looking at you now.

He nods, scraping his fork across the plate as he aggressively cuts into his food. “Right.” You wait for him to say anything else but he doesn’t.

You walk past him and head back to your room. You don’t even have a job, you don’t have to work. But you still grab your purse and head out of the apartment. Pretending you do just so you don’t have to look at him anymore.

You really should have let him finish, though. You should have let him keep talking to you. Let him explain how as much as he sees her in you, that’s not why he wants you. He wants you for you. Because as similar as you can be, you’re still a completely different person from who his late wife was. You’re someone strong and incredible and he genuinely wants you. But he can never really let himself be happy.

It takes a few days for you both to ease up around the other. The incident in the bathroom is never brought up again. You take him shopping for clothes after a few days. It feels wrong to keep giving him Wade’s hand-me-downs. You would have had your friend take him, but you don’t trust Wade’s sense of fashion at all.

After that and getting lunch together while you were out shopping things got a little easier. You bought him a bed for the spare room because you felt guilty seeing him all cramped up on your tiny couch.

You don’t initiate any physical contact with each other. The closest you’d gotten was your hands brushing when you both reached for some popcorn at the same time on movie night. But you hadn’t really minded that bad.

Eventually, he starts to feel like a real roommate and a friend. He lets little pieces of himself slip out. Slowly opens up about his past. You haven’t made any existential discoveries of course. But he tells you stories of what his X-Men were like.

You try not to dance around the topic of his wife, you don’t want him to think you’re avoiding asking about her. But you also don’t want him to think you’re obsessed with discussing her.

He’s right, you two weren’t carbon copies of each other at all. You might share a few things in common but the more both you and Logan learn about each other, the more clear it is how different you both are from your variants.

Sometimes you think he looks at you like he’s really seeing you, not her. But you can never be sure and you don’t want to put much strength behind the thought in case you’re wrong. You hate the idea that when you’re thinking of nothing but him, he’s just seeing her reflection on your face.

There’s nothing you can do about it but it doesn’t stop the hurt.

Tonight, at Wade’s suggestion, you’re both up on the roof waiting for a meteor shower that you’re ninety percent sure is never going to happen. You’re also one hundred percent sure that Wade just tricked you out of your apartment so he could have sex in it. He and Vanessa don’t really get a lot of time alone with Blind Al around. You’re already mentally preparing for the absolute fuck storm you’re going to have to clean up after.

There’s a light nudge on your shoulder and you glance over at Logan. He’s got the whiskey bottle outstretched towards you and you take it from him with a smile. One thing about being his roommate, your alcohol tolerance has skyrocketed. His liver might regenerate, but you’re pretty sure if you keep going down this route yours will give out in a few months.

“Think this is actually going to happen?” You ask, pointing up toward the clear night sky.

Logan chuckles and shakes his head. He stretches out in your flimsy lawn chair and you try not to let your gaze be drawn to the sliver of skin peeking out from his shirt. “Probably not, but I don’t mind being out here.”

There’s an unspoken, with you, that makes you smile. You meet his gaze, his eyes soft as he watches you. “Me either.” You lean back in your chair, pulling your legs up onto the seat and huddling under your blanket. “It’s peaceful.”

You drink together in silence for a little while longer. Then you have to tap out, you don’t want your brain getting too foggy. Tonight is nice, you want to remember it tomorrow. To your surprise, he caps the bottle and places it to the side. You don’t mention it but you do feel like you’ve noticed he’s been drinking a little less. The dark circles under his eyes seem to be easing away ever so slightly.

He looks over at you with an odd light in his eyes. You shift uncomfortably under his stare when it lasts a little longer than it usually does. You chuckle awkwardly, “Do I have something on my face?”

There’s a soft uptick to his lips as he shakes his head. “No,” he mutters, looking back out at the night. “You mind if I ask you something?”

Ominous, but whatever. “Sure.”

He still doesn’t look at you and you worry slightly about whatever it is he’s going to ask. He doesn’t ease you into it all, “Wade said your brain was broken?” A laugh springs out of your throat from how brusque that was. He rolls his eyes. “Fuckin’ idiot mentioned it in the void, been wonderin’ about it.”

“It’s fine,” you tell him. You’re relaxed enough that you don’t mind answering. You don’t want to pop the soft bubble you’ve managed to create around each other. “Here,” you hold your hand out for the whiskey bottle. He gives you an apprehensive look before handing it over.

You unscrew the cap, “This,” you say and point your hand at the glass. The liquid inside lifts into the air and you freeze it before dropping it back into the bottle with a splash, a simple little party trick. “This used to be enough to put me in a coma for two days. That’s what he meant. Something happened to me and I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

Logan’s eyes widen and he shakes his head in disbelief. You laugh a little, “I assume your wife never had problems like that?”

There’s always a fond smile when you mention his wife. Whether the memory is bittersweet or not. “She wasn’t perfect, much as I thought so. When she used her powers too much she,” he trails off and looks down at the floor. You frown, ducking your head down so you can catch his gaze.

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” you promise quietly.

But he shakes his head and gives you a weak, tight-lipped smile. “No, I want to. And I don’t want you to think you’re the only Flux who struggled. When she used her powers too much she would deteriorate. Parts of her would just disappear, I don’t even know how to describe it. They were destroying her from the inside out.”

You let out a low whistle, eyes widening slightly. “Well, maybe I didn't get the short end of the stick after all.” It’s quiet and for a moment you worry your humor was ill-timed.

But he lets out a rough laugh, “No, I guess not.” He takes in a deep breath before looking back up at you. There’s no distant sadness in his eyes like there usually is when you bring her up. It seems to only be a familiar ache now, rather than something fresh and bleeding. “But what happened to you? Why couldn’t you use your powers?”

“Oh,” you look down at your lap, picking at the strings of your pants. It would be unfair to have him talk about his wife and then wimp out when it was your turn.

“Um, There was this mission. A bunch of kids, mutants, were being held in this warehouse. It was actually pretty normal, just go in, retrieve them, and bring them back to safety. I must have done a dozen of these before, but, I don’t know. Something was this different this time around.”

You can still hear them screaming. In your mind, you hear the way they cried for help. And you see the look on your faces when they realize you can’t save them every time you go to sleep.

You suck in a sharp breath and almost jump when his hand lands on yours. It’s gentle, he’s barely even touching you and he’s not even acknowledging what he’s doing. But you take his hand in yours and squeeze, it’s nice, grounding.

“Long story short, they were heavily guarded and I was pretty drained from fighting off the guards. My powers were practically gone by the time we could even get to the kids. And, I don’t know, something must have gotten knocked over or hit the wrong way because smoke was filling the place and everything was on fire. I couldn’t see anything, couldn’t breathe, and the kids were blocked off. There was nothing we could do to get to them. Everyone kept screaming at me, telling me to just use my abilities and get them out of there. I couldn’t,” your voice gets thick and you look anywhere but at him. “I,” your mouth hangs open and you don’t know what you could possibly say.

There’s no excuse for what happened. “I just couldn’t,” you whisper. You sniffle and your eyes flutter rapidly, trying to stop any tears from coming. “Hadn’t been able to use my powers since then. Trauma block or something, I guess,” you dismiss yourself flippantly and shrug.

Logan just squeezes your hand again. He doesn’t seem to know what to say to comfort you and you’re honestly grateful for the silence. You get so sick of people telling you there was nothing you could have done. Or that the others should have helped you. Because that’s not a fucking excuse. There’s no fixing what happened, no giving those parents their children back. You fucked up and you don’t appreciate people giving you cop-outs.

You keep your gaze trained steadily on the ground, eyes going blurry while you try to slip into the back of your mind. You don’t get the chance, though. Logan is kneeling in front of you, hands slipping up your arms to cup your face.

He forces you to look at him, to stay present in the moment with him. “You fucked up,” he tells you. It's so shocking that you can’t help but let out a loud wet laugh. You sniffle and he grins, wiping the tears out from under your eyes. His grip on your cheeks tightens and he makes sure you’re listening as he speaks, “You fucked up, kid. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t try your fucking hardest. And it doesn’t erase all the people you did help.”

Your eyes search him, trying to find any kernel of untruth. Trying to prove to yourself that this isn’t real. That he isn’t real. You don’t deserve this moment of such unwavering trust and faith. This is meant for someone else, for someone who deserves good things in life.

You’ve never truly believed you deserved happiness or peace like this. But right now you don’t care because he is saying everything you’ve ever wanted to hear. And he actually means it.

Your hand drifts up, covering his and tilting your head to press a gentle kiss to his palm. It’s tentative, a test, a way to give him an out if doesn’t want this. His grip on you tightens for half a second before he shoots forward and claims your lips with his own.

It escalates quickly. You practically melt off your chair, straddling his lap while he leans back on the ground. Your hands tug at his hair while he moves desperately over your body. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to do, where he wants to touch you.

You love how fully his hands engulf you, the tight way they cradle you to his chest. You’ve never felt more secure in someone’s arms than you do right now. He’s got you, and he wants you. For you this time, you can tell. You can tell from the way he holds you that this isn’t a desperation born from grief. It’s something else, something you’re not ready to identify yet.

His tongue laves across the seam of your lips, silently asking permission. You smile against the kiss, parting your lips and deepening it. He licks into you, tasting you with a low grunt in the back of his throat. You feel your hips start to move of their own volition. Gently grinding down against his lap. You moan when you feel just how bad he wants you.

You lean back, parting from the kiss and pressing a finger to his chest to keep from following. You chuckle at his eagerness, grinding your hips down again and watching the way he thrusts up to meet your movement. “Didn’t know I was such a good kisser,” you tease.

But he doesn’t return the joke or play along. His face falls slightly and he pulls further away from you, the look on his face distant. “What?” You whisper. “Do I have bad breath?” You joke, trying to keep the mood light.

He shakes his head and runs a tired hand over his face. “No,” he mutters. He repeats the word more firmly and finally meets your gaze. “I think I need to take this slow, just because of…”

He trails off but you know what he means. His wife. You don’t know if he’s still projecting her onto you, you felt so sure he wasn’t earlier. But if every time you kiss he’s gonna pull back you’re not sure that you can do this. “Of course,” you mutter with a bite to your voice. It’s hard not to feel a little rejected every time he acts like this.

You move to get off his lap but his hands clamp down on your hips and he shakes his head again. “You don’t have to get up.”

You hesitate, thighs still hovering over his. You should get up and put as much space between you as possible. But he’s so warm and you want to be held for a little while more. You nod and he looks relieved. You lean back down, pressing your chest against his and letting your head rest in the crook of his neck.

He wraps a heavy arm around your back, keeping you close while the other reaches up to stroke your hair. It makes you feel small, in a good way. Like you can just relax and he’ll take care of you.

“Goddamn,” he laughs a little and you sit up. He nods to the sky above and you turn around, gasping.

“Fuck,” you whisper, “he wasn’t lying.” For once, Wade was telling the truth. Above you, it looks like the sky is falling. Glittering stars dart across the sky, streaks of blue following behind them. You grin, “It’s so beautiful.”

Logan keeps his eyes on you and nods, “Yeah, it is.”

“Ah, look, my favorite fuck buddies.”

”Wade,” you greet tightly. You shove the bottle of wine you brought into his chest and he stumbles back. “Just let us in, you freak.”

He frowns, placing a hand over his heart. “You know, it really hurts when you talk like that. I think we all need to hold hands and have a good old-fashioned jerk circle.”

You roll your eyes and flick his thick forehead. “It’s share circle, dumbass.”

”Not the way I do it,” he moves to the side and lets you both in. “Well, mi casa es su casa, especially since Vanessa and I had rockin’ sex in your bed last week.”

He walks off before you can hit him or even begin to respond to that. “I fucking knew it,” you hiss, glaring at his stupid Hawaiian shirt while he mingles with the rest of the people at the party.

Logan chuckles behind you, “How did you two ever become friends?”

You roll your eyes and turn to face him. “I moved in next door,” you respond dryly. “This was a nonconsensual friendship because god hates me, clearly.” You shrug your jacket off and he takes it from you, hanging it up on the hook by the door. He comes back, slinging an arm around your shoulder, and leading you towards the kitchen.

You hear Wade laughing loudly in the background and he grunts, “I’m gonna need a drink for this,” he mutters. You nod your head in agreement. You don’t get very far, though, because without any warning Wade is in front of you. He’s got his ridiculous dog in his arms and shoves her in your face. You grimace and jump back. Logan abandons you and you narrow your eyes at his retreating back. Traitor

Wade says your name with disappointment. “You know, Mary Puppins is a part of my life now. As my best friend, you need to bond with her. I can’t have you two fighting like this.” He shoves the dog into your arms without any warning and you flinch away from her wandering tongue.

“If this thing licks me, I’m putting her down,” you warn him gravely.

He gasps and snatches her back. “You are no longer welcome in my home,” he tells you with a snotty huff. You roll your eyes and watch him go. When he’s out of sight your lips curl up in a grin and you glance at Logan.

He’s by the sink, making himself a drink and taking a deep swig straight out of the bottle. You creep up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He smiles, hand coming down to gently hold your arm. “What’re you doing?”

”Come with me,” you whisper. You take his hand and lead him through the apartment. You both skirt around the partygoers, giving them vague greetings and waving them off when they give you odd looks.

Logan leans down, lips brushing across your ear as he whispers, “Where are we going?” Your knees nearly give out when you hear that low tone of voice of his. You just shake your head and lead him down the hall. You can sniff out Wade’s room from the permeating stench of his axe body spray.

You throw the door open and drag Logan inside behind you. His nose wrinkles up at the stiff socks littering the floor and the smell. Other than that, it’s relatively clean. You actually thought this would look so much worse.

“Now,” Logan demands, “are you gonna tell me what we’re doing?”

“Well,” you lock the door and turn around with a devious grin. “Seeing as Wade has ruined my favorite sheets, I feel like we need to get him back somehow.” You glance around the room, trying to figure out something of his you want to destroy.

You don’t hear Logan moving towards you. You’re too busy rooting through Wade’s desk and trying to find something good to shred up. All you’re seeing is increasingly more disturbing porno mags. He has got a serious problem with pegging. You briefly wonder if you should set up an intervention or something for him.

You nearly yelp when Logan’s hands grip your shoulders, whipping you around to face him. “I’ve got an idea of what we can do.” That’s your only warning before his lips cover your own. You melt into him immediately, hands fisting his shirt and dragging him closer. He grins against your lips, lifting you and placing you on the edge of Wade’s desk.

“Mm,” you moan but shove his chest back and shake your head. “Wait,” you hop off the desk and take a seat on Wade’s bed instead. “There’s no point in this if we’re not on the bed.”

Logan shakes his head with an amused huff. He walks towards you but instead of taking a seat on the bed next to you like you'd expected, he kneels before you. Your brows furrow together and you frown. “Wait, what’re you doing?”

He gives you a gentle smile, hands coming up to rub gently over your thighs. The warmth of his palms soothes you almost immediately. “You trust me?” He asks, voice a low rumble against your chest.

“Yeah,” you whisper. He nods encouragingly and leans forward, kissing you gently. There’s nothing expectant in this kiss. He’s doing it just to be close to you. Then you feel his hands drifting higher, fingers running over the buttons of your jeans. Your lips part, ready to ask him a question. But he just takes the chance to dip his tongue into your mouth, eagerly tasting you. You moan into it, not protesting when he presses you back into the bed.

His fingers dip under the waistband of your jeans. You lift your hips to help him tug them the rest of the way down until they’re dropping to the floor quietly. You have a million questions dancing on the tip of your tongue but you can’t find it in yourself to actually voice any of them. You don’t want to break the moment. This is the first time he’s seemed comfortable going further than kissing and some heavy petting.

“Fuck,” he whispers. Your hips jolt as he runs a thumb over the wet spot on your panties. “All this just from kissing?” He asks, a teasing lilt to his tone. You feel your face flush, cheeks warming when you realize he’s never actually seen just how much he affects you. “Relax,” he tells you, squeezing your thighs once before slipping a few lithe fingers under the band of your panties.

He tugs them down, but the second he sets eyes on you he gets too impatient to take them off the rest of the way. They dangle off one ankle while he lifts your thighs, setting them on his shoulder and dipping down to press a gentle kiss against you. You gasp at the contact, head tilting back while you instinctually grind your hips up against him.

It’s been a long time since you’ve actually been with anyone and you already know you’re going to cum embarrassingly quick because he fucking devours you. You’ve had boyfriends who liked to eat you out before, but this is something completely different.

He drags his tongue over you, sucking on your clit like it’s his only true joy in life. You can’t even make noises, your jaw hanging slack while you cant your hips higher. He groans when you grind against his face, shaking his head and flicking his nose across your bud. You nearly come from the sight of him smiling against your cunt alone. You feel it building slowly, and it’s like your powers are swelling up along with your release.

Wade’s knicknacks are floating off the shelves, some of them rotating in the air, others fluctuating between liquid and solid forms. You can’t control yourself, you’re barely aware of the chaos happening in the room around you. You just feel a warmth at the tips of your toes, swelling over your body, making your skin feel too tight. There’s little to no warning when you cum. He dips his tongue inside you and you let out a long moan, drenching his face.

The sheets are soaking wet underneath you and you know you’ve ruined his shirt. You’ve never come that hard before and you would reflect on that more if he wasn’t still fucking eating you out. You think your brain is going to melt out of your ears, you're so overwhelmed by all the different sensations.

He dips his tongue into you, dragging out your orgasm and drinking as much of you down as he can. Your hips keep twitching, you’d be thrashing out of his hands if it wasn’t for the near brushing grip he has on your hips. “Fuck fuck fuck,” you reach down, grabbing his hair at the roots and tugging. He groans at the feeling, barely leaning an inch back. “No more,” you whisper, chest heaving.

He smiles, palms smoothing across the skin of your thighs, “You okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum weakly. Your head falls back against the bed with a dull thunk and you struggle to catch your breath. “Holy shit, where did you learn to do that?” He doesn’t answer, just laughs. You jump slightly when he presses a tender kiss on your thigh, every part of you oversensitive.

He moves slowly up your body, hands dragging your shirt up until he’s pulling it over your head. He cups your cheeks, letting you recover while he kisses your cheeks and face. You laugh slightly at the feeling of his beard tickling you.

You pull back, meeting his gaze for a long drawn-out moment before you lean forward to finally kiss him back. You can feel yourself slowly coming back into your body. Your limbs tingle back to life while you lazily make out with him.

His hands drift down your chest, squeezing your breasts. You laugh against his lips, arching into his touch. You reach back, unclipping your bra and throwing it off somewhere in the room. In the far reaches of your mind, you make a mental note to take that when you go. You don’t want to think about what Wade would do with it if he found it.

Logan pulls back from you and your lips tip down at the serious look he wears. Your fingers trace the lines of his face and you tilt your head in question. “What’s wrong?” You whisper. You’re completely naked before him and he’s still clothed, you don’t want him to leave now.

He can’t keep doing this to you. He can’t keep forcing you into these vulnerable positions and then leaving. There’s only so much rejection you can take before you start to resent him for it.

He tilts his head down, gaze dragging across your body appreciatively. He’s looking at you like you’re art and it makes you feel like you should be in a museum somewhere. Finally, his hand drags down from your chest, wrapping around your waist and dragging you onto his lap.

You brace your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. He leans towards you, lips trailing lightly across your jaw. “You’re not her,” he whispers against your skin. Your mouth parts, a pained breath slipping through. You try to move back from him. You hadn’t expected something like that, not now, not when you thought you’d made so much progress together.

To have you naked, vulnerable like this, and then say something like that to you. It was fucking despicable. You shove his shoulders back but he barely moves. You shift, trying to cover yourself and fighting off the urge to cry. Why won’t he let you go? Why does he keep doing this to you?

He reaches out, snatching up your wrist before you can get far. “I don’t want you to be. I never wanted you to be her, I need you to know that.”

He tries to kiss you but you snatch his jaw in your hand before he can. You let your nails dig in until there’s red blooming under your fingertips. He hisses, but he’s not mad, you can feel how much he enjoys the little pinpricks of pain.

“No more pulling away,” you warn. “I’m not playing this damn game with you anymore, Logan. You want me, then commit.” You release him with a shove and his pupils dilate with want. You appreciate the gentle way he’s been treating you, but you know you’re both holding back.

He’s the first partner you’ve been with that can actually take what you give and vice versa. There’s something only mutants understand sometimes. You normally have to hold back, have to make sure you don’t scare a guy off by making the walls shake when you come.

You push him down onto the bed. Hands sliding under the hem of his shirt and running over the grooves of his muscles. You haven’t had a chance to appreciate just how gorgeous his body is before, but nothing is holding you back now.

You snap your fingers and the buttons rip open, he surges forward catching your lips with his while you both frantically push his shirt off. He throws it off to the side and his fingers fumble with his belt buckle while you trail kisses down his neck. You glance up at him for a second before biting down on a particularly sensitive spot.

He groans, head rolling back while you grin against his skin. You make your way back to his lips. “Don’t hold back,” you tell him, trailing your hands down to his fists and running over the spots where the claws come out.

“Sweetheart,” he starts tone apprehensive. You shake your head, shutting him up with a kiss.

“Don’t. Hold. Back.”

It’s like a switch flipping. Even the way he looks at you changes. You’re not something to be cherished and adored. You feel like a deer pinned by a wolf. He’s got you in his clutches now and there’s a real possibility you might not survive this.

He stands up, dropping you on the bed and dragging your hips off the edge. He doesn’t kick his jeans off, just lowers them enough for his cock to hang out. You’ll address the fact that he wasn’t wearing boxers later, you’re too worried about what’s hanging between his legs right now.

You’re no virgin, but goddamn, there’s no way that’s going to fit.

He laughs, the noise cruel and it makes shivers crawl down your spine. “We’ll make it work, kid.” He spreads your legs and you tilt your hips up, making it easier for him to just sip inside.

There’s a slight stretch, but you’re already soaked for him. You’ve been waiting for this to happen since you walked in on him naked in your bathroom. “Oh, shit,” you toss your head back, taking in a deep breath while he pushes in. It feels like he’s rearranging your insides, molding you to fit him perfectly.

You can already feel yourself clenching down, just being so close to him is enough to make that tingle in the tips of your toes start. He leans down, placing your legs over his elbows and rutting into you like a wild animal. There’s nothing gentle or slow about this.

You’re both so pent-up, tired from the weeks of dancing around each other. Your nails drag up his back, blood following your movement. Your powers are actively surging against him, pain only driving you further into each other’s arms.

You can hear his breathy grunts and groans in your ears and it’s music to you. Neither of you cares about the party going on just outside the door. You’re loud, skin slapping against skin while you loudly call out his name.

God, you hope they hear you. Hope they realize just how thoroughly you’re wrecked for each other. You can feel yourself getting closer, hips stuttering against his while you struggle to match his pace. “Come on,” he mutters in your ear. He releases one of your legs to reach down and rub your clit.

“Fuck,” you groan, reaching up and tugging at his hair while your back bows. It only takes a few more tight circles of his thumb before you’re spasming around him. He’s quick to follow behind you.

He pins your hips to the bed, dropping your legs while he thrusts faster. He loses his rhythm, the muscles of his abdomen flexing as he cums inside you. It’s like a mini death, you feel like you’ve lost time when you finally manage to come back to yourself.

And when you roll your head to the side you realize just how much damage you’ve done to Wade’s bed. “Shit,” You glance up at the sound of his voice and notice little droplets of blood on your hips. Logan’s claws are out, stuck in the fluff of the bed.

You force the words out, tongue heavy in your mouth. “Do that often?”

“Not really,” he mutters. The claws retreat and he rubs his fingers over the blood. It’s not bad, you’ve honestly done worse to yourself. It’s like a big paper cut. When the rough pad of his fingers presses against the cut you hiss at the sting, nearly enjoying it.

“Must be special,” you tell him with a cheeky grin. He shakes his head with a laugh and takes his time pulling out. You hate the loss of him inside you but it's a slight relief. He's larger than any partner you’ve ever had and it’s almost overwhelming to be so full.

“Come on, let's get you dressed.” He pats your thighs, glancing around for your clothes.

“Uh, Logan,” he looks up and you glance at his still very hard cock. “I thought you came?”

The smile he gives you is slightly terrifying. Because there’s a promise in it. He’s not getting you dressed for no reason. He’s taking you back to your apartment so you can have more fun where there are less people and fewer reminders of Wade. “Stamina's part of the deal, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” you whisper, voice breathless in shock. You wipe the cum off your legs with Wade’s sheets. You feel like you’ve thoroughly gotten revenge on him for destroying your favorite bed set. Maybe, you’ve gone a little farther than revenge, though.

You feel guilty, looking around the room and seeing everything you destroyed. Once you’re dressed, you wave your hand, putting most things back where they belong. But there’s nothing you can do about the bed. The sheets are soaked with a mixture of yours and Logan’s releases and there are six holes dug deep in the bed from his claws.

When you step out of the room with Logan, struggling to press down your hair and get it back into place, Blind Al is waiting by the door. She’s doing a line off the back of her hand when you pass by. You think you’ve almost made it scott-free when she yells, “Man, I wish I couldn’t fucking hear,” at you.

You tense up, shoulders to your ears while you run to the door. Logan laughs, grabbing your coat for you and pressing a hand to your back while he leads you to the apartment. “Weren’t feeling so embarrassed earlier,” he teases.

“Shut up,” you grumble, dragging him into the apartment to finish what you couldn’t on Wade’s bed.

You’ve managed to keep any holes out of your bed, you just have to use your powers to keep his at bay. It’s nice, not having to explain why everything around you is levitating to the person you’re having sex with. There were a lot of awkward conversations that came from that.

You’re lying on Logan’s chest, fingers idly running over the veins in his biceps. “I want to be serious about this,” you tell him.

His hand pauses from where it’d been stroking your back. You sit up on your elbow so you can get a better look at him. “I mean it, I,” there’s no way to say this without sounding like a complete bitch. You just have to rip the bandaid off.

You take in a deep breath, “I know that you still miss her,” you say, unwilling to say her name. Logan sits up, looking more serious now. “But I don’t want to be with you if you think that I’m going to turn into her. Or if you think that I’m the last connection you have to her. I’m not her, Logan, and I'm never going to be her.”

You expect anger on his face or regret, maybe. But you don’t expect him to laugh at you. You roll your eyes, lips pursed while you wait for him to finish. He notices the pissy expression on your face and quiets down, but you still see a smile fighting on his lips.

“I know you’re not her. You could not be more different” he tells you with a slight smirk, like there’s an inside joke you’re missing out on. “I was married to her for a long time and I loved her. But we had our time together. Now, I just want my time with you. You’re not her,” he leans forward, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. “That’s why I want you.”

You feel your heart flutter in your chest and have to fight to keep a stupid grin off your face. “Okay,” you whisper. “Good, well as long as we’re on the same page,” you tell him, faux serious. He just rolls his eyes and pulls you back into his arms.

You’re going to cuddle up beside him when you hear your phone going off like crazy on your nightstand. Your face pinches in confusion and you reach over to grab it.

Wade

Did you fuckers have sex???

In my bed!!!!

And you didn’t invite me?!

….

Wade

Tell Logan I want his claws in me next

“Fuckin’ dumbass,” you mutter, throwing your phone somewhere on the bed. Logan laughs again, drawing you closer.

a/n: i have a really weird tendency for masochism, idk what that’s about. I just feel like if you were having sex with this man, he’s taking you like a wild animal. also feel like I might be a one-hit wonder. the smut just wasn’t doing it for me this time guys nor was the angst, i’m disappointed in myself

I just don't think I did justice to his character in the movie, I might have made it too OOC/ if I did PLEASE let me know

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist: @nonamevenus ♡

#logan howlett x you #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #the worst logan x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool #hugh jackman #praying this doesn't flop

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yandere-daydreams · 11 months ago

Text

Title: Ferine.

Pairing: Yandere!Toji x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 4.1k.

TW: Hybrid AU, Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Slight Manipulation, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Knotting, Mentions of Blood + Violence, Slight Breeding, and Biting.

Toji was, by far, the largest hybrid you’d ever taken care of.

Which, technically speaking, wasn’t that big of an accomplishment. This was barely your third month at the research facility, and you could count the number of hybrids you’d encountered before being hired here on a single hand. Still, even compared to the other wolves you currently looked after, Toji was beyond impressive. His long, pointed ears and stocky build set him well above six-foot, and even if he’d lacked height, he would’ve been able to make up for it with the planes of sculpted muscle circled around his biceps and thighs, laid over his chest and back. Top it all off with a set of claws each longer than your pointer finger and sharp enough to pierce reinforced steel, and he was practically fit for exhibit. Not that Toji could ever actually be a show dog, no – he’d tear the judges apart before they’d so much as heard his name. He was sweet, but he had a temper. You had to be careful not to set him off.

His fangs were impressive, too – perfectly in-tact despite years of less-than-adequate care, only a touch duller than a real wolf’s. You were careful not to let your hand stray from where it cupped his cheek as you looked for signs of damage or rot only to, of course, come up empty. The longer you spent with him, the more convinced you were that nothing could actually hurt Toji, even if the faded scar stitched into the corner of his mouth suggested otherwise.

“All done,” you started, letting go of his cheek. Immediately, Toji’s jaw snapped shut with enough strength to take off a finger, had you given him the chance. “Perfect as always, Toji. I think you might be my best patient.”

A cocky smile found its way to his lips, and you could hear his tail beating lazily against the dirt floor of his enclosure. The facility was committed to replicating the natural environments of their more exotic hybrids as closely as possible, even if Toji claimed he’d trade it all for a punching bag, or better yet, something ‘real’ to dig his teeth into, whatever that meant. “Do I get a treat, doc?”

It was asked playfully, but still, you hummed by way of confirmation, pulling your duffle bag into your lap and fishing Toji’s well-earned rewards – a generic chocolate bar and a can of some painfully acidic, sickeningly sweet brand of soda your hybrid patients couldn’t seem to get enough of. It was a meager prize, but it was as much as you were able to spare considering how strict his caretakers were when it came to his diet. You’d probably save yourself a few dirty looks if you didn’t give him anything at all, but it didn’t feel right to leave him empty-handed.

He accepted your humble offering greedily. While the chocolate bar was stowed away for later consumption, the can was pierced with a clawed thumb and emptied in one long, unpleasantly audible swig. You’d only started to push yourself to your feet when Tojj finished, letting the now empty can fall to the ground before turning his attention back to you. “It hurts my feelings, knowing you’re just gonna run off and put your hands on another animal.” His ear pressed flat against his scalp, as if he was trying (and failing) to feign disappointment. “If I didn’t know better, I’d start to think you didn’t really care about all the time we’ve spent together.”

“You’re not exactly in desperate need of medical attention,” you chided, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “And I’m on a schedule. Not all of us can sit around, grooming ourselves all day.”

That earned a breathy laugh, a coy lilt to his smile. “Well, if you wanted to take a shot at it, I wouldn’t—”

“Save it. I get enough of that with the cats.” Just thinking about it made you grimace. It was one thing to think that Toji might bite you. Knowing Satoru and Suguru – the bonded leopard and panther pair who shared a check-up date with Toji – would insist on licking any exposed skin raw before letting you do your job was a much more tangible reality. “I’ll see you in a couple of days. You’ll be good until then, right?”

“I’m gonna gut those fucking strays.” His answer was blunt, immediate, but he cracked as soon you shot him a purse-lipped frown. “Kidding, kidding. I’ll just rough ‘em up a little – make ‘em regret putting their paws on you, y’know?”

You couldn’t help but soften. Toji was rough around the edges, but he wasn’t a bad dog. He just had a protective streak and that, paired with his brash personality and tendency to bite before he barked, was enough for most people to write him off.

You really did have a long, long list of other appointments you had to get to before the end of the day, but against your better judgement, you paused as you passed him, reaching down to rake your fingers through sleek black hair. He was stoic, especially for a hybrid, but even his cool, dark eyes and wry smile couldn’t hide the way his tail moved just a little faster at the feeling of your nails raking over his scalp, his ears immediately perking up. It only took a second for him to bat your hand away, but you only laughed as you started towards the staff exit, waving to Toji over your shoulder.

Maybe, for his next check-up, you’d see if you could sneak in something special.

“Your mutt’s been unruly, lately.”

You glanced up from your clipboard, turning your full attention to Nanami and quickly finding that he hadn’t paid you the same courtesy. He was one of the senior researchers and, so far, the only one you could stand to be around for any longer than a few minutes. Since the higher-ups expected you to fill out your reports with one hand while you took a four-hundred-pound tiger’s temperature with the other, you tended to camp out in Nanami’s office when you had paperwork to file. “Toji?” Nanami nodded, and you rolled your eyes. “I’m just the vet, Kento. If his handlers aren’t doing their—”

“The problem isn’t his handlers, it’s him.”

His voice was flat, his tone icy. You laid your clipboard over your lap, crossing your arms over your chest. “He’s an animal. It’d be more out of character if he didn’t lash out occasionally.”

Nanami opened his mouth, but closed it just as quickly. After a lengthy pause, he leaned back in his seat, bringing a hand to his temples and massaging absentmindedly. “Do you know why he hasn’t been released back into the wild, yet?”

Obviously. Working with hybrids – let alone exotic hybrids – was dangerous, and your debriefing had drilled the face, name, and background of every animal in the facility into your memory. “He was born in captivity. He’s too acclimated to human society to adjust to the wilderness.”

Nanami pressed his lips into a thin line – an expression you’d learned to read as ‘you’re right, but I’m not going to say that’. Still, a degree of satisfaction accompanied his silent confirmation. “He was found in a dog fighting ring – or, what was left of one, at least. It took three rounds of sedation and two broken muzzles before our recovery team was able to get him under control.”

A knot formed at the base of your throat. Fuck chocolate, Toji deserved a blanket and as many hugs as he would let you give him. “That’s terrible, Kento. Were the organizers arrested?”

“The organizers—” Nanami straightened. “—were found mauled and stuffed into a kennel. Their bodies were so thoroughly mutilated, we had to rely on blood samples to identify them.”

“Wolves aren’t known for attacking unprovoked. It could’ve been another—”

“One of his handlers is currently hospitalized,” Nanami went on, as if you hadn’t cut in. “And two have already turned in their resignations – a resounding fear for their welfare in the workplace, supposedly.”

Your eyes fell to the floor, and that knot in your throat tightened until only the barest whisper could find its way out. “He’s not a bad dog,” you muttered, nearly under your breath. “He just— He loses his temper, sometimes. He doesn’t mean to hurt anymore.”

“He’s never tried to hurt you?”

You didn’t have to think before shaking your head. “Never.”

That, of all things, seemed to catch Nanami’s attention. For the first time, his eyes flickered briefly to you before falling back to his desk, his paperwork. “Good,” he said, marking down something on a piece of scrap paper in front of him. If he felt the need to elaborate, he clearly didn’t deem it worth the effort.

Later that day, you were informed that you were being transferred to the reptile wing indefinitely. If you’d been there for a few more months, if you’d had a little more experience to throw around, if you’d had a little more authority, you might’ve protested, but it was all you could do to nod and set to memorizing your new schedule.

It took exactly three weeks for you to see Toji again.

One of his handlers – a woman in her early twenties sporting a pressed scowl and a gauze-padded bandage on her cheek – met you at the facility’s gates and flatly told you that Toji was injured. You’d never been in the facilities (much less with a hybrid) after sundown, and in the simulated wilderness of his enclosure, it was easy to forget that you were never more than twenty feet away from a security camera, that there was only one apex predator you had to be afraid of. After checking your usual meeting spot (clear spot near the center of his enclosure – neutral territory, safe territory) and finding it vacant, you reluctantly stumbled your way to his den, dragging your feet despite the urgency of the situation. Toji wouldn’t deliberately attack you, but any animal could react if provoked. You didn’t want to set him off. More importantly, you didn’t want to prove Nanami right.

You’d never ventured far enough to see his den, but you knew what to expect. A square shell of cement occupied the deepest corner of Toji’s enclosure, bracketed off by a metal door tucked inside of a deep entryway meant to give the illusion of privacy. You approached it slowly, stepping underneath the shadowed overhang with no small amount of caution, but you didn’t get the chance to knock before a hand manifested on your shoulder and shoved you against the cold steel.

Claws bit into to the dip of your shoulder, then your wrist, too, as he caught your hand and shoved it into the small of your back. You felt hot air on the nape of your neck, heard heavy panting laced with the barest trace of a throaty growl, and it took everything you had not to panic, not to struggle, not to give him a reason to dig his teeth into your neck and tear. Toji wasn’t a bad dog, but he was still a dog. He’d still bite, if given an excuse.

“Toji,” you started, slowly, taking care to soften each harsh syllable of his name. “I’m here to help you.”

He didn’t respond, his hold only tightening. His check pressed into your back, and there was a short, airy noise – sniffing, as little as you wanted to put a name to it. “Toji,” you repeated, with more urgency. “I heard you were hurt. Will you let me help you?”

A second passed in silence, then another. Finally, he pulled away from you, releasing your wrist first, then your shoulder. He remained where he was – a little too close, a little too looming – as you shuffled to face him, forcing yourself not to consciously acknowledge that you were in a very big cage with a very poorly behaved animal. His handlers hadn’t mentioned why they’d needed you, but you didn’t have to wonder for very long. Even in the pitch dark, you could see the dark blood covering his jaw, washed over his throat and chest. It was on his hands, too, coating the white bone of his claws, and matted into his dark hair. Your waning self-control faltered then shattered altogether, your hands shooting to his head, his face, searching for bruising or swelling or broken bones, but surprisingly, all your worry earned was an airy laugh. “It’s not mine, doc.” He laid a hand over yours. “I’m doin’ just fine. Even better, now that you’re here.”

But he wasn’t. Twin sets of puncture marks were littered across his throat, his face, his arms. Something had taken a chunk out of his left bicep, and five matching scratch marks had been etched deep into the skin of his chest. The wounds looked feline, but you couldn’t bring yourself to linger on the implications. “You’re hurt,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. Your hands fell to his shoulders, pushing him downward gently. “I— I’ve got bandages, and sutures—” You let your bag fall from your shoulder to your elbow, already reaching for the zipper. “Find somewhere to sit. We should get you cleaned up before something worse sets in.”

Panic was quickly overshadowing your better judgement, but Toji didn’t move, didn’t look away from you. He was still wearing that coy, sardonic grin – almost teasing, given your anxiety. “I already told you, I’m just fine.” His smile widened, until his pointed fangs caught in the dim light. “I didn’t think you’d actually come. They said I could ask for whatever I wanted, but—” He paused, sucked in a sharp breath. “I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

“Toji, you’re not making any sense. You need help.” Again, you pushed gently on his shoulders, and again, he didn’t seem to notice. This time, though, he shifted, leaned toward you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You scowled, shoving a little less gently on his chest, but Toji didn’t move. “Toji, please, just let me help—”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, princess.” You felt his hands on your waist, then your ass. His chest was slotted against yours, and his tongue ran unabashedly over the curve of your neck once, then twice before he went on. “Keep sayin’ my name like that, and I won’t be able to control myself.”

Something pressed into your thigh – hot and hard and, like the rest of Toji, fucking huge. Your heart fell into your stomach, the air flooding out of your lungs and leaving you dazed, breathless.

Fuck. Fuck.

You should’ve stuck with the fucking reptiles.

Toji was panting audibly, again; his tongue lapping over your neck, your cheek. You were still cursing yourself for ever applying for this shitty job in the first place when Toji fell to his knees, forcing your thighs onto his shoulders as his claws caught on the fabric of your pants, decimating the thin material in an instant. His teeth tore away your panties just as quickly, leaving you exposed, splayed out on a silver platter in front of him. You reacted reflectively – knotting your fingers in his hair and doing your best to pry him away from you, but your strength was nothing compared to his and in the end, all you earned was a throaty groan, a tight squeeze to your ass before he buried his face in your cunt. His teeth grazed against the tender insides of your thighs, his claws biting into your now-unprotected skin, but the feeling of his tongue laving over the length of your slit replaced every other sensation with pure heat.

Predictably, he was near animalistic – his thick tongue fucking into you as the bridge of his nose ground shamelessly into your clit. From a distance, it would’ve been hard to tell if he was trying to eat you out or eat you alive; every noise he made feral and wet, punctuated with rough growls and little, uncharacteristic whines. It would’ve been impossible not to feel anything, but still, you couldn’t help but hate yourself when it started to feel good. His tongue was thick and textured, long enough to fill your pussy and flexible enough to curl inside of you, abusing the walls of your cunt without mercy. It was difficult to tell how much of the gloss staining his chin and the inside of your thighs was his drool and how much of it was your arousal, but even if your mind was disgusted by every slick noise and sharp flick of his tongue, there was nothing your body could do to block out the sudden pang of heat in your core, to fight the way your legs ached to clench around his head and pull the source of your revulsion that much closer.

“To—Toji, no, st—” you tried to say, like you were scolding a normal dog, like any part of you still thought he was listening. A cracked moan cut you off prematurely, and even if it hadn’t, Toji’s only response was a bruising squeeze to your ass, a low moan just loud enough to reverberate against your sensitive clit. Blinding white flashed across your vision, and before you could stop, before you could bring yourself back from that edge, you were coming undone on his tongue, your hips bucking against his face as he nursed you through your mind-numbing climax. Rather than pull away, he forced his tongue that much deeper into your pussy – taking advantage of your hypersensitivity to drag another unwilling orgasm out of you, then another, until the dried blood smeared across his lips was tacky and dripping onto your skin. He only pulled away when your little, pained sounds began to die into half-choked pleas and your limited strength failed, leaning you limp and boneless on top of him, and even then, he took the time to drag his tongue over your slit, to lap up what would’ve been wasted slick. You would’ve given anything for him to just leave you like that – messy and covered in your own arousal, but unfortunately, Toji had never been a bad dog.

His gaze flitted up to meet yours. “Sorry, princess,” he muttered, when he saw the misery knitted into your expression. The broad grin he wore was anything but apologetic, though. “Might’ve gotten carried away after all. Can’t help it – you always come to me, smellin’ like other men, and nobody ever lets me do anything about it.” He nuzzled into the inside of your thigh, nipping at the tender flesh with just enough force to break the skin. There was a tight pinch, of bright spark of pain, but Toji tended to the minimal wound lovingly, running his tongue over the thin stream of blood. “Gonna have you nice n’ scented by the end of the night.” A sharp whimper slipped past your grit teeth as the points of his fangs grazed over your skin, and Toji sighed. “Gonna have you nice n’ bred, too, if you keep making those sounds.”

Bred. Bred. Bred. You turned the offensive word over in your mind, unable to grasp what it possibly could’ve meant, as Toji carefully lowered you onto the ground – never so much as toying with the idea of fucking you into anything other than the cold, raw earth. It wasn’t until his clawed hand fell to the hard, pulsing cock standing stiffly between his legs that you were able to fully process what he’d said, what he was threatening to do to you. Your thoughts went blank, your years of veterinary school and countless hours of animal-handling training and common sense all dissolving into total nonexistence in an instant. It didn’t matter that he was taller than you, stronger than you – you were already throwing your full weight against him, scratching at his chest with your blunt nails, doing everything in your so incredibly limited power just to get away from him. Your latest wave of resistance wasn’t enough to overwhelm him, but it earned a frustrated rumble at the base of his throat, a downward quirk to his cocky smile. Your nails caught one of the puncture marks on his cheek and, reflexively, he straightened his back, brought his hand to his face, left just enough space between your body and his for you to roll onto your chest and scramble desperately towards freedom. You’d barely gotten your knees underneath you when his hand lashed out, catching you by the collar and forcing your cheek into the soil. His chest pressed into your back, his legs caging yours in on either side, and worst of all, his cock throbbed against your ass – somehow, impossibly, harder than it’d been a few seconds ago. You might’ve jotted it down as an impressive display of canine resilience, if you hadn’t felt so desolated.

“Shoulda figured you wouldn’t make this easy on yourself.” His voice was rougher than it had been, but no less self-satisfied. That made sense. Wolves were endurance predators. He would’ve come into this expecting there to be a struggle. “I thought you’d be more of a mate than a bitch, but—” He paused, his mouth settling against the nape of your neck. “—either’s fine by me.”

You clenched your eyes shut. “Please, Toji, don’t do—”

But, it was already too late. He rutted your ass once, then twice, before his tip caught on the entrance to your abused pussy and he was inside of you, fully sheathed without a trace of resistance.

Toji was big, even for a hybrid. He was a hunter, tried and true, all muscle and agility and pure, unfaltering strength. Even with his generous (albeit, unwelcomed) prep, it was all you could do to convince yourself that his cock wouldn’t tear you apart. He was thick enough to press against every soft and sensitive spot inside of you, long enough to leave a tight knot of pressure sitting in the pit of your stomach, and when he started to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in, the force alone was enough to scatter little black spots in the corner of your vision and leave you hazy, light-headed. The way he was fucking into you didn’t help anything, either. Keening whines slipped out of some deep, feral pocket of his chest as he took advantage of your vulnerable cunt, alternating between grinding into you with a desperate sort of clinginess and trying to bully his way that much deeper with bruising, brutal thrusts. One arm wrapped around your midriff, dragging you even close to him, while a groping hand found the delicate buttons of your top and tore, ridding you of what was left of your protection against him. He kneaded half-consciously at your chest as he fucked into you; his own pleasure suddenly his only priority.

His selfishness should’ve been a welcome change, but you were too far gone, your body too eager to find a silver lining to his rough affection. Your hands clawed mindlessly at the ground as he pumped into you, the heat of his body against yours clouding your senses and making the feeling of cock stretching you open, his dull head pounding against your cervix all the more unbearable. You doubted he’d be able to talk, even if he’d had anything left to say, but he was still vocal enough. Raspy groans and harsh grunts rung distantly in your ears, his calloused hands groping mercilessly at your chest, your stomach, your waist. Finally, his thumb found its way to your neglected clit, and with less than a full second of stimulation, you were buckling into yourself, clamping down around his cock with a fractured whimper. As humiliated as you were, Toji wasn’t far behind. With something between a moan and a howl, he was cumming inside of you – predictably making no attempt to pull out. Something hot and vile flooded into you, but it was hard to focus on that when you could feel something hard and bloated and wrong press into your entrance. Toji’s breath hitched as he forced his knot into your tight cunt, and whatever hope you had for coming out of this unscathed curled up and died inside of you.

You could feel him slacken on top of you. You almost thought he would collapse like that, leave you locked to him and trapped under his weight, but instead, he nuzzled against the crook of your neck, his fangs ghosting over your throat before sinking into the soft flesh just underneath your jugular. He stayed like that, his knot splitting open your pussy and his teeth buried in your neck, until you lost any hope of him ever pulling away.

Exhausted, you shut your eyes, sinking into yourself. You’d been right, in a way. Toji wasn’t a bad dog.

He was just a terrible terrible man.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere oneshot #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagines #yandere jjk #toji x reader #yandere toji #fushiguro toji x reader #yandere fushiguro toji #hybrid au

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