#only a couple of days but I take what I can get

[quarterlifekitty]

Promethean

fuckboy!Soap x Shy!Reader x Ghost (college!au) p.2 here’s part 1

Uhh warning soap isn’t in this chapter and reader isn’t acting very shy rn lol

Simon managed to drag you, shocked and still on shaky legs, into his surprisingly clean car and across town to a little cafe. The guy with eye bags behind the counter starts making his order as soon as he comes in the door— must be a regular.

At the counter he points to a couple of items in the display case, before prompting you— you stutter out your go-to, and Simon whips out a beat-up debit card before you can think to pull out your wallet.

The largest size of earl grey almost looks normal in his large hand, a plate of pastries in his other mitt. You grab your own drink and follow where he tilts his head in gesture.

When you sit, he pushes the plate towards you. Like he’s dropping a fresh kill at your doorstep—a courting gift. Eat. Be provided for, sensitive doe. You pick up a danish, if only to ease the clench of his fist on the table. He pulls the black surgical mask down to sip his tea in a way that’s almost hilariously delicate given his permanent scowl.

You couldn’t have sat in silence for more than 10 minutes. But it feels like a lot longer.

“Simon. What are we doing here?” You probe quietly. Saying his name when you’ve never actually been introduced to each other feels wrong. Like you’ve stolen a piece of him that he hasn’t given freely.

“He never takes you out,” he grunts. As if that explains anything.

“It’s not… what we have isn’t like that.”

——

Simon chews on your overly diplomatic response for a minute. That’s what it must be, chewing— why else would he grind his teeth together when his tongue is still wet with his favorite soothing beverage?

You’re kind. Kinder than the mutt deserves.

“But you want it to be.” He says it with an almost biblical level of finality. Your pastry making the plate clink against the table as you drop it back down.

“What would you know about what I want?”

“You’re an easy read. S’how y’got yourself in this situation. Soap’s not exactly a rocket scientist when it comes to chattin’ up birds, you’re jus’ an open book.”

Simon shamelessly stares at your lips as they quirk in anger— so unused to vitriol. It’s gorgeous.

“So he’s using me. I know. Is that what this was about? Taking me on a pity date to let me down gently? Or did you just wanna see if you could have a go as well?”

Seeing you like this. It’s something else. He’s seen you mope around so many times, silently begging for crumbs that will never be tossed your way. It’s even harder to pull his gaze from you, now that you’re hissing. He wants to dig his teeth into your heart shoulder and rip out the bruise Johnny left you with.

Soap is his best friend.

“He’s a dickhead. You don’t need him. You’ll find something better.”

Simon has never been what he would call “something better”. Not in any sense. But this might be the first time he’s wanted to be.

“I won’t,” you say with the lower half of your face hidden by the sipping of your drink. As if it’s quenched your fire, and all that leaves you is vapor. “I’m not… the type.”

He gets it. Really, he does. He’s not the type either— or so he’s thought. You’re making him wonder if he’s imagined that about himself— the same way you’ve clearly imagined it about yourself.

“What’s the rest of your day look like?”

“…Nothing set in stone.” The not that it’s any of your fucking business goes unspoken, but is plain to see in the air between you.

“Lemme take you around. On a date. Be mine for today. If y’hate it, I’ll drop you back at yours and the next time you come round, I’ll mind my business and keep the door closed.” Well, that’s the most you’ve ever heard him say in one go. And it begs a question.

“What happens if I like it? You’ll fuck me in a different room of the same frat house?” Your unimpressed look makes him feel ravenous. She-wolf is threatening to turn her eyes from the display. Rejection. Not an option. “Or maybe you’ll ask me to go steady,” you huff under your breath like it’s a bad joke.

“If y’like it, then you’ll stay mine, and y’won’t fuckin’ want for anything. You’re supposed to be worshipped, not begging for scraps at a mutt’s door.”

He really didn’t mean to say it like that. He meant to bite his tongue. He’s trying not to think of how hot it would be if his intensity scared you into pissing yourself. He’s trying not to let himself show through the lines. It’s not working. Any of it.

The venomous bile that spills from behind his teeth reminds him that his eloquence is just one of many reasons why he’s single. Why he should be muzzled instead of kept. He doesn’t know why he’s taking it upon himself to do this. Selfishness, maybe. There’s plenty of better men he could’ve put up to the task, easy. The man who wants to feel blood on the back of his throat makes a terrible savior.

He feels like he can see your pupils dilate. You pick up your danish again and take a bite. You hold it out for him to try. It’s a test. You don’t think someone with eyes like his can handle doing cutesy, saccharine things. Like what couples do. That must be it.

He tries not to think of his teeth going past the flakey flesh of the pastry and sinking into your fingers. When his tongue meets the butter between the layers, he tries not to think of the salt sweet flavor of your sweat and tears. A seed from the blackberry jam gets thoughtlessly crushed between his molars— he hopes the bitterness will suddenly wake him up and he won’t be a beast crying for love at the heart of the world anymore.

It doesn’t.

[wirewitchviolet]

So I was already sitting down to ramble about something, and turns out this post and this big reply under it tie in pretty well, so, here we go.

There are enough bespoke issues trans people justifiably feel very passionate about, and enough different experiences different trans people have that it is damn easy to end up in a huge fight because one person tried to make a nice simple statement for a clueless cis audience, but viewed through another person's lens it reads like some kind of attack. And it certainly never helps that bigots are actively out there constantly trying to co-op messages and sew infighting that any statement no matter how clear and good WILL get weaponized.

Before I get into the above, the go-to example I was planning to use was "you don't have to transition to be trans." There's a ton of ways you can read that which are great and worth echoing. For instance, "hey, if you've worked out that people got your gender wrong, you are trans and can come hang out in the trans clubhouse and ask for advice and all that without proving it through medical intervention."

Or, "hey don't be a weird gatekeeping creep who only recognizes people's gender if they don't jump through a particular medical hoop like taking a particular medication or get a particular surgery, which might not be something they even want due to risks, side effects, or not seeing it as a problem to begin with, and/or might not be something they CAN do anything about, because the typical medical treatment would not work on them for any number of reasons/is prohibitively expensive/too socially dangerous to go forward with in their current situation/is only even done by like a couple dozen specialists in the world who are booked out years in advance and many of whom actively discriminate against all sorts of potential patients."

You can see how it's nice to have a short catchy phrase. BUT it's absolutely a reality that awful bigots these days are going with the wildly bad faith and not even remotely true reading of "it's OK to deny transition-related care to trans people, because they don't actually NEED it!"

And you know, regardless of where you're encountering this phrase, you should always bear in mind those points about being totally valid and welcome in the community without a signed doctor's note, and how it's completely valid to be, oh, a woman who's hung like a horse and proud of it and such women shouldn't be treated like they need to go see someone about that, give people the benefit of the doubt that they're using it in such a sense if there's any chance they are, and at the same time be on the lookout for bad faith creeps misusing it and taking whatever steps are necessary to prevent them from to or about any trans person again unless/until they somehow manage to stop being a hateful piece of garbage and somehow become a decent human being.

Phew. All THAT out of the, way, I take a fair deal of issue with seeing the comment above me saying "the 'not transgender' people in the poster are clearly intersex" because holy hell is that a bad faith reading. All the concerns regarding intersex kids following that jumping off point are super valid and worth mention, of course. Doctors are constantly looking at baby's junk, going "huh, that doesn't look right, lemme do a quick surgery I'm not even necessarily trained in to get this looking more like whichever configuration I personally prefer the aesthetics of here, that probably won't cause any long term memory problems or trauma and there's almost a 50/50 shot I'm guessing right about what this kid'll want things looking like down here in a couple decades!" And that is just incredibly messed up. As is the practice of just throwing, say, testosterone boosters at someone perceived to be a teenage boy who doesn't seem "manly enough" to someone, which is a general queer kid concern, sure.

But none of that is going on in this poster. What's going on is kids getting hit with puberty-related symptoms they do not want (specifically boobs beards and voice changes), clearly stating this, and asking for medical help to make them not happen. If we wanna play Occam's Razor with the kids plainly labelled as "not transgender," boys growing breasts is called gynecomastia and a quick Google search confirms that... it is completely useless as a search engine because it's giving me 20 conflicting reputable-looking sources ranging from 1% to 70% of teenage boys. Facial hair on cis women is also really freaking common, to a point where it being relatively rare if you're white specifically makes it feel more like a racism thing than anything.

The real thing to remember though is that the obvious reason this poster exists is to get people who are completely uneducated on any of this and have been steadily exposed to propaganda from transphobes for their entire lives to the point where they have a hard time imagining trans people as actual human beings to consider the concept of HRT from a clear perspective by taking us out of the equation for a moment and just making them try to empathise with kids dealing with some of the same stuff, and it has to make that point in less time than it takes someone to finish walking past this telephone pole or wherever else someone might place this. And... OK if I'm really honest it's probably still too wordy and reliant on people having SOME idea of what being trans even means, but it's pretty good within those restrictions! Don't overthink it! Really don't project stuff that absolutely is not actually on there onto it! Focus more on actual bigots and doing something about what they're doing than nitpicking people who are doing good effective activism work you'd phrase differently!

This is the first time i’ve seen a pro-trans poster in a long time and i hope whoever put it up is having a good day, it made me feel a little less alone.

Hamilton, New Zealand

[desperate-gay]

christmas request for leah williamson:

"Just because we’re stuck under mistletoe doesn’t mean I have to kiss you.”

“Scared you might enjoy it?"

A Christmas Tease

Leah Williamson x fem!reader

summary: your teammate has quite the reputation and she will do anything to catch your attention

a/n: just a quick blurb i thought id write due to a sleepless night

“There she is!” Katie shouts, arm extended with a beer in hand, announcing your late arrival at the party.

“Yes, here I am. My tires are horrible with the snow and everyone drives like there’s a whole blizzard outside.” You roll your eyes, removing your outdoor gear to throw on the coat rack and embrace the warmth of the house.

You greet everyone with a smile and catch up to all the conversations that have happened within the last 20 minutes you have missed. You’ve gotten extremely close with many of your teammates despite only playing for Arsenal for only a couple of months. Once your USWNT teammate, Emily Fox, was signed, you weren’t too long after.

You had already known a lot of your teammates from international games and previous clubs you had played for, so there weren't too many people to get used to.

Besides one very obnoxious player.

Leah Williamson.

She has a reputation for sleeping around and placing girls in her trophy case. The team jokes that she’s challenging herself to sleep with every girl in London, and, unfortunately, her new target is you.

“Were you too busy answering prayers, angel?” A thick british accent breaks you out of your trance, making you jump in surprise.

“More like digging myself up from hell.” You say, giving her a plastered grin before taking a sip of the champagne that rests in your hand.

“I’ll have you one day, you know.” Leah states confidently, earning herself a sharp glare from you in which she only returns with a cocky smirk.

Not even wanting to argue with the girl, you scoff and walk over to where Lia and Mariona sit and join them in conversation. You’d never admit this to the blonde, not wanting to make her ego swell bigger than it anyway is, you used to have the biggest crush on her before you transferred to Arsenal.

You always found the blonde extremely attractive, especially on the pitch, but when you finally met her and found out about her off-the-pitch affairs, your crush faded away.

“You still there, amiga?” Mariona asks softly, noticing your silence.

“Yes, of course. Sorry, just a bit distracted.” You smile apologetically, twisting the glass in your hand for distraction.

“No need to apologize, but if I may, does this have anything to do with a certain english blonde defender?” Lia smirks teasingly as you roll your eyes and shake your head rapidly.

“Absolutely not. You know my feelings about that, Lia.” The swiss girl allows the conversation to disappear although she doesn’t believe you one bit.

—

“Next question, what is everyone’s favorite christmas song?” Kim asks the team who all are huddled around in the living space, you coincidentally smushed on a loveseat with Leah.

Many shouts are thrown across the room from voices trying to top each other, debating on what christening song is the ultimate song, including your voice.

Noticing the girl next to you zoning out and not participating, you bump your shoulder into hers, asking, “What about you? What’s your favorite christmas song?”

“Rockin’ around the christmas tree.” Leah nods in confidence.

“Why that one?” You immediately regret asking when that familiar cocky grin stretches along the older girl’s face.

“Because I know I can rock your world when you finally let me.” She whispers, leaning closer to you so no one else can hear, and quickly snapping back when you push her in disgust, making the girl chuckle and take a sip of her drink.

Many hours pass by with more questions, movies, karaoke, and so on before people start to trickle out to head back to their destined homes. It was only you and a few people left, cleaning up the snacks that were on display and garbage littered in small areas.

Leaning against the wall of the archway, someone clearing their throat grabs your attention next to you. You quickly see the blonde locks and huff in annoyance before turning back to look at what you were.

She taps your shoulder and points above the two of you, causing you to scoff when you notice the holiday plant hanging down by a string. Leah’s white teeth shimmer at you before puckering her lips and making exaggerated kissy noises.

“Just because we are under a mistletoe does not mean I have to kiss you.” You declare, watching the older girl with squinted eyes.

“Afraid you may enjoy it, darling?” Leah questions, pulling herself off the wall and moving slightly closer to you with a wide grin plastered on her face.

A weird shock runs through your body from hearing her husky tone, but you shake it off as the thought of a cold shiver. You swiftly look around to make sure no one is around before closing the gap between you and Leah, grabbing her arms and placing them on your hips while yours wraps around her neck.

The blonde’s smile fades and instead is replaced with a huge face of shock.

“I know I’ll enjoy it. I have been dreaming of you railing me into the mattress over and over again, having your way with me on every surface of every room, and making my legs shake violently with every orgasm you give me.” You whisper, lips brushing against the girl’s ear as her hands grip your hips together with every word.

“Yeah?” Leah’s voice shakes.

“Oh yeah, but this won’t ever happen except in your daydreams.”

With that, you down the rest of the drink in your hand and strut off to help Kim with the rest of the cleanup, leaving the defender in complete bewilderment and arousal.

Merry christmas indeed.

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 2023 - nothing matters but you

chapter summary: The remaining X-Men come up with a plan to change their present; send Logan back in time to change the past.

word count: 17.1k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: oooohhhh boy!! i've been waiting for this chapter for so long and it's finally here! i'll have more to say at the end, but for now, and i truly mean it, enjoy!!! <3

warnings/tags: takes place during 'days of future past', dofp!logan, light miscommunication, angst, light violence, blood, character death, fluff, memory loss, happy ending!

series masterlist - chapter 10

The Blackbird landed on the top of the large mountain in front of a monastery. Ororo walked out first, followed by Logan, who paused at the bottom of the stairs to light his cigar, Charles, whose chair hovered down the stairs, and Erik.

They walked to the front of the monastery as Bobby spoke, “Professor.”

Ororo smiled, “Bobby.”

“Hey, Storm,” he replied, giving the woman a hug.

“Hey, kid.” Logan said.

“Professor,” Kitty called out. “You made it.”

The group made their way inside as Kitty explained how the group had been surviving, “Warpath spots them, and I send Bishop back to warn us of the attack before it happens. Blink scouts the next site, and… well, we leave before they ever know we were there.”

“Because we never were.” Bishop said.

“But what do you mean, you were never there?” Logan asked.

Charles looked over at Logan, “she projects Bishop back in time a few days to warn the others of the coming attack.”

“So she sends Bishop back in time?”

“No, just his consciousness into his younger self, his younger body.” Charles clarified.

“Wow.” Logan muttered.

“This might just work, Charles.” Erik commented.

“What might work?” Kitty questioned.

“The Sentinel program was originally conceived by Dr. Bolivar Trask. In the early ‘70s, he was one of the world’s leading weapons designers, but covertly, he had begun experimenting on mutants, using their gifts to fuel his own research. There was one mutant who had discovered what he was doing.” Charles explained.

“A mutant with the ability to transform herself into anyone.” Erik added.

“Mystique,” Peter said.

“I knew her as Raven. We met when we were children. Grew up together. She was like a sister to me. I tried to help her, but only succeeded in driving her away. She hunted Trask across the world, and at the Paris Peace Accords in 1973, after the Vietnam War, she found Trask. And killed him. It was the first time she killed.”

“It wasn’t her last.” Logan added on.

“But killing Trask did not have the outcome she expected. It only persuaded the government of the need for his program. They captured her that day. Tortured her. Experimented on her. In her DNA, they discovered the secrets to her powers of transformation. It gave them the key they needed to create weapons that could adapt to any mutant power, and in less than 50 years, the machines that have destroyed so many of our kind were created. But it all started that day in 1973, the day she first killed, the day she truly became… Mystique.” Charles finished.

“You want to go back there,” Kitty said.

“If I can get to her, stop the assassination, keep her out of their hands, then we can stop the Sentinels from ever being born.”

“And end this war before it ever begins.” Erik spoke.

“I-I can send someone back a couple weeks. I mean, maybe a month, but you’re talking about going back decades. You have the most powerful brain in the world, Professor, but the mind can only stretch so far before it snaps. It would rip you apart. I’m sorry. No one could survive that trip.” Kitty remarked.

“What if someone’s mind has a way of snapping back?” Logan asked. “What if someone can heal as fast as they’re ripped apart?”

---

Logan stood by the table as Charles, Erik, Kitty, and Bobby stood nearby, the rest outside of the monastery keeping watch.

“So I wake up in my younger body, God knows where. Then what?”

“You’ll need to go to my house and find me. Convince me of all of this.” Charles moved closer to Logan.

“Won’t you be able to just read my mind?”

“I didn’t have my powers in 1973. Logan, you’re going to have to do for me what I once did for you. Lead me, guide me. I was a very different man then. You’ll have to be patient with me.”

Logan scoffed, “patience isn’t my strongest suit.”

“You’ll need me as well,” Erik spoke up.

“What?” Logan turned to face Erik behind him.

“After Mystique left Charles, she came with me, and I set her on a dangerous path. Darker path. It’s going to take the two of us, side by side at a time when we couldn’t be further apart.”

Logan looked at Charles who nodded in affirmation, “great,” he muttered to himself. “So, where do I find you?”

“Well, it’s complicated.” Erik said, as Logan shook his head and stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

Logan got onto the table and lied down, Kitty sitting at the head of the table, “basically, your body will go to sleep while your mind travels back in time. Now, as long as you’re back there, past and present will continue to coexist, but once you wake up… whatever you’ve done will take hold and become history. And for the rest of us it’ll be the only history that we know. It’ll be like the last 50 years never happened. And this world, and this war… the only person who will remember it is you.” Kitty took a breath, “all right, Logan, I need you to clear your head and to stay as calm possible.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“If your mind gets rocky, it’ll be harder for me to hold you, and you could start to slip between past and future.”

“What if I need to get a little rocky?”

Kitty lightly shook her head, “think peaceful thoughts?”

“Peaceful thoughts.” Logan repeated. “You have any good news?”

“Well, I mean, you don’t really age, so you’ll pretty much look the same.”

Bobby spoke up, “you won’t have much time in the past. The Sentinels will find us. They always do.”

“And this time, we won’t be able to run. We’ll have no escape. This is our last chance.” Kitty’s hands hovered near the sides of Logan’s head.

“See you all soon.” Logan said.

“This might sting a little.”

---

Logan blinked, his vision adjusting to the dim, warm glow of the lava lamp. Its lazy, hypnotic bubbles drifted in the liquid, but his mind was racing to catch up. The sharp, immediate transition from the future to… this—the past, his past—had his senses momentarily disoriented.

The pressure against his neck snapped him into focus. An arm was draped over his shoulder from behind, soft, warm, and familiar. He shifted his head just enough to glance at the hand resting on his chest. It was delicate, but the grip was firm, like whoever it belonged to had no intention of letting him go.

“Mornin’,” your voice came from behind him, groggy and soft. Your tone was laced with the remnants of sleep but carried the easy, teasing warmth that always seemed to put him off guard.

His heart clenched. You.

You leaned into him slightly, pressing your cheek against his shoulder as you stretched, entirely unaware of the whirlwind in his head. The past, your face, the other you. The fact that he hadn’t seen this version of you in nearly 50 years.

“Didn’t think I’d need to pry you out of bed first,” you teased lightly, your hand giving his chest a playful pat before you settled again. “Usually, you’re already up before the sun, big guy.”

Logan’s jaw clenched at the nickname. His eyes narrowed at the room—a modest hotel room with vintage floral wallpaper and creaky wooden furniture—and the small pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. His leather jacket. Your dress. The pieces clicked into place far too quickly, but they didn’t make it easier to stomach.

He turned his head enough to catch sight of you, hair slightly messy, lips curled in a lazy grin. You were radiant in a way that didn’t match the world he’d just left behind. The world he’d come back to fix. And you had no idea how much he’d missed that expression.

“What’s with the look?” you asked, tilting your head. “Do I have something on my face, or are you just debating whether or not you’re gonna finish that cigar from yesterday?”

Logan shook his head slightly, clearing the fog. “Nah. Just… thinkin’.”

“You?” you quipped. “That’s dangerous.”

“Cute,” he replied dryly, though a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

You laughed and pulled back, sitting up against the headboard. Your expression softened when you caught a hint of the tension still lingering in his body. “You okay? You seem… off.”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting on the edge to gather himself. “Just didn’t sleep great.”

“You tossed and turned a lot,” you agreed, though your concern didn’t waver. “Another bad dream?”

Logan didn’t answer immediately. The memories of the future, the Sentinels, the war, and your other death pressed heavily on him. Instead, he grunted noncommittally and stood, grabbing his jeans from a chair nearby.

“Y’know,” you said behind him, watching as he pulled on his shirt, “most bodyguards don’t get that much real estate in their boss’s daughter’s bed.”

Logan froze for a beat before throwing you a glance over his shoulder. “Most bodyguards don’t sneak them outta her own wedding either, darlin’.”

You grinned mischievously, leaning your head back against the headboard. “Guess that makes us even.”

He shook his head but couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped. You haven’t changed a bit.

Before either of you could say anything more, there was a sharp knock on the door. Logan’s entire body tensed, his senses sharpening instantly. He sniffed the air, picking up the distinct scents of sweat, leather, and gunpowder.

“Stay here,” he said lowly, grabbing his jacket and stepping toward the door.

“Logan, what—”

“I mean it,” he said, cutting you off with a firm glance. The tone in his voice told you not to argue.

He moved toward the door, his hand hovering over the knob as his other reached behind him for the small knife he kept tucked into his waistband. He opened the door slightly, just enough to peer through the crack.

Two men stood in the hall, dressed in dark suits. Their faces were sharp, unfamiliar, but their eyes carried an unmistakable menace.

“Can I help you?” Logan asked gruffly.

“Yeah,” one of them said. “We’re here for the lady. Her father’s lookin’ for her.”

Logan didn’t hesitate. He slammed the door shut and locked it, spinning back toward you. “Get down,” he barked.

“What’s going on?” you asked, but the urgency in his voice made you scramble off the bed.

The door shuddered as one of the men kicked it. Logan growled low in his throat, adrenaline surging as his hands instinctively balled into fists. Bone claws erupted from his knuckles with a sickening snikt, and he turned toward the door just as it splintered inward.

Your sharp gasp filled the room, but there was no time for questions. Logan launched himself at the first man, driving his claws deep into the guy’s shoulder. Blood sprayed across the room as the second man raised a gun, but Logan was faster. He yanked his claws free and swung, knocking the weapon from the man’s hand before driving his claws into his stomach.

It was over in seconds, but the aftermath left the room in chaos. Logan stood over the bodies, his breathing heavy, his shirt streaked with blood. His claws glistened in the dim light, and as he turned toward you, his expression softened.

“Logan…” you whispered, your voice shaking. Your eyes were wide, fixed on the bone claws still protruding from his hands.

He hesitated, then retracted them with a shudder, the wounds on his knuckles sealing themselves almost instantly. “I can explain,” he said gruffly.

“You—you just…” You couldn’t find the words.

“Y/N,” he said, stepping toward you carefully. “I need you to trust me.”

You stared at him, your mind racing. The man you thought you knew had just turned into something else entirely—but it wasn’t fear that kept you rooted in place. It was the way he was looking at you, desperate, protective, like he’d go through hell just to keep you safe.

“I…” You took a shaky breath. “I trust you.”

Logan’s shoulders sagged in relief, though the tension in the room didn’t dissipate. He grabbed a bag from the corner of the room and tossed it toward you. “We need to move. Now.”

Before you could question him further, he bent down, rummaging through the man’s jacket pocket to snag the keys before heading for the door. You hesitated, your mind still racing to process what you had just seen. The claws, the blood, the sheer force he used to take out armed men—it was like something out of a nightmare. But Logan wasn’t the nightmare. He was the only constant in this whirlwind you called your life.

“Y/N,” Logan’s voice broke through your haze. He was standing by the door, his tone sharp but not unkind. “Let’s go. Now.”

You shoved a few belongings into the bag, still half-dressed from sleep, and moved quickly to his side. “Logan, what the hell is goin’ on?”

“I’ll explain later,” he said, keeping his voice low and his gaze locked on the hallway as he peeked out. “For now, we’ve gotta put some distance between us and whoever else your father’s sent after you.”

Your stomach twisted at the mention of your father, but you followed him out of the room, clutching the strap of the bag tightly. “How did they even find us?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care,” Logan muttered, leading you down the narrow hallway. His shoulders were rigid, his entire body coiled like a spring. “What matters is keeping you outta their hands.”

The two of you reached the stairwell, and Logan paused at the top, scanning the area below. He tilted his head, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air. Whatever he smelled didn’t seem to calm him, but he motioned for you to follow anyway.

You descended the stairs as quietly as you could, your bare feet barely making a sound against the worn carpet. “Logan, seriously, you need to tell me what’s going on. Those… claws, or whatever—”

“Not now, sweetheart,” he interrupted, his voice tense but firm. “We’ve gotta focus on getting outta here.”

You bit your lip, frustration bubbling under your skin. This wasn’t the first time Logan had dodged your questions, but after what you’d just seen, you weren’t about to let it slide for long.

The two of you slipped out a side door into the cool morning air. The parking lot was mostly empty, save for a few scattered vehicles. Logan made a beeline for a black sedan parked near the edge of the lot. He unlocked the door and ushered you inside without a word.

“Logan—” you started as he slid into the driver’s seat, but he cut you off again.

“Buckle up,” he said, starting the engine.

You shot him a glare but did as he said, snapping the seatbelt into place. Logan peeled out of the lot, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as his eyes flicked between the road and the rearview mirror.

For a few minutes, the only sound was the hum of the engine and the faint thud of your heartbeat in your ears. You watched him closely, noting the way his jaw clenched and his knuckles turned white around the wheel.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on now?” you finally demanded, crossing your arms. “Because I think I deserve an explanation after that little… display back there.”

Logan let out a slow breath through his nose, his eyes still on the road. “It’s complicated.”

“No kidding,” you shot back. “Start with the claws. What the hell are they, Logan? And don’t tell me they’re some kind of freak weapon because I saw them come out of your hands.”

He glanced at you briefly, his expression unreadable. “They’re a part of me,” he said simply.

You blinked, taken aback by the matter-of-fact tone in his voice. “What do you mean, ‘a part of you’? Like, you were born with them?”

“Somethin’ like that,” he muttered.

You stared at him, waiting for more, but he didn’t elaborate. Frustration bubbled over, and you leaned forward, grabbing his arm. “Logan, I’m serious. I need answers.”

He sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly as he finally looked over at you. “I’ll tell you everything, sweetheart. Just not right now. Right now, we’ve gotta focus on getting somewhere safe.”

“And where’s that?” you asked, your voice softening slightly.

“A place I know,” he said, turning his attention back to the road. “We’ll head north, get outta the city, and figure it out from there.”

You frowned, unsure whether to trust his vague assurances. But the look in his eyes, the raw determination mixed with something you couldn’t quite place—it was enough to quiet your doubts for now.

“Fine,” you said, leaning back in your seat. “But you owe me the truth. All of it.”

Logan smirked faintly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’ve always been a tough one, huh?”

“Damn right,” you muttered, crossing your arms again. But despite your defiant tone, a small part of you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of something else—something warm and familiar—when he called you tough.

You didn’t notice the way his grip on the wheel tightened at your response or the way his jaw clenched ever so slightly. To you, this was just another chaotic morning in the whirlwind of your life. But to Logan, it was a painful reminder of how many mornings like this he’d lost with you.

---

You tapped your fingers on your thigh, still waiting for Logan to come out of this mansion, which looked like it had seen better days.

You groaned as you tilted your head back, adjusting yourself in the car seat. It had been a while since Logan left the car and went inside, almost 2 hours. You would know, you’ve been watching the clock.

Finally, Logan stepped outside and briskly walked to the car door, opening it for you. “Jesus, what took so long?” You asked, as he grabbed your bag from the backside and guided you into the house where two other men were, one with glasses, the other with long curly hair. “Logan-?”

“You’re staying here.” He stated.

You stopped dead in your tracks, your eyes narrowing at Logan. “What?” you demanded. “You said we’d figure this out together. You didn’t say anything about leaving me here.”

Logan ran a hand through his hair, already looking stressed. “Plans changed, darlin’,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “Charles and Hank are comin’ with me. We’ve got somethin’ to take care of, and it’s safer if you stay here.”

“Safer? Logan, this place is the size of a damn castle!” You gestured around the massive entry hall, frustration spilling over. “You’re just gonna leave me here by myself? What if they come for me again? What am I supposed to do then?”

“You won’t be alone,” Charles interjected, his tone measured but polite. He glanced briefly at Logan, as if trying to gauge how much to say. “This house has a number of protections. You’ll be secure here.”

“Secure from who?” you fired back, your eyes darting between the two men. “You all keep throwing words around like ‘safe’ and ‘protected,’ but you won’t tell me from what!”

Logan stepped closer, his voice softening. “Y/N, I know you’ve got questions, and I know this ain’t easy, but trust me. If I thought for a second there was a better way to keep you outta harm’s way, I’d do it.”

You stared at him, trying to ignore the way his voice—the way he called you by name—seemed to ease some of the tension in your chest. But it wasn’t enough. “You always do this,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “You make decisions for me like I’m some fragile little doll. I’m not helpless, Logan.”

“I know that,” he said quickly, his gaze locking onto yours. “But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna take chances with you.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, shaking your head. “And where exactly are you going that’s so important you can’t tell me?”

Logan hesitated, his jaw tightening. He glanced at Charles, who gave him a slight nod. “We’ve gotta stop someone,” Logan finally said, his voice low. “Someone who’s about to make a big mistake.”

“That’s it?” you asked, your frustration rising again. “That’s all you’re gonna give me?”

“That’s all you need to know right now,” Logan replied. He reached out, his hand brushing against your arm. “Look, I promise I’ll explain everything when I get back. But for now, I need you to trust me.”

You stared at him, your chest tight with a mix of anger and something softer, something you didn’t want to name. “Fine,” you said at last, pulling away from his touch. “But don’t expect me to be happy about it.”

Logan smirked faintly, though his eyes were serious. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Charles cleared his throat, stepping forward. “Y/N, I understand this is a lot to take in, but I assure you, this is the safest course of action for now. Hank and I will only be gone for a short while.”

“Yeah,” you muttered, glancing at him briefly. “You better be.”

Logan nodded at Charles, then turned back to you. “There’s food in the kitchen, and plenty of space to stretch out. Don’t open the doors for anyone but me or them. Got it?”

You rolled your eyes but nodded. “Got it.”

Logan hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but then he turned and followed Charles and Hank toward the door. You watched them leave, the sound of the heavy door closing echoing in the empty mansion.

For a long moment, you stood in the middle of the entry hall, clutching your bag and trying to process everything that had just happened. Finally, you let out a heavy sigh and slung the bag over your shoulder.

“Guess I’m on my own,” you muttered, heading deeper into the mansion to figure out how the hell you were supposed to pass the time in this massive, empty house.

---

It didn’t take long for you to get bored, even in a place as massive as this. From what you gathered during your first walkthrough, this mansion had likely been a boarding school at some point. The classrooms, rows of bedrooms, and an enormous kitchen all hinted at its past. But now, it was eerily quiet—like a castle frozen in time.

You wandered aimlessly, peeking into rooms and finding nothing but empty desks, dust-covered books, and a growing sense of restlessness. The longer you roamed, the more your mind churned over Logan’s sudden departure. You didn’t want to admit it, but his absence had left a void—a nagging worry that you couldn’t shake.

You sighed, stopping in front of a wide window overlooking the overgrown courtyard. What am I even doing here? you thought. Your fingers tapped against the windowpane as you chewed the inside of your cheek. Maybe you should’ve pushed harder for answers instead of letting Logan sidestep your questions—again.

The faint hum of a clock ticking in the hallway was the only sound accompanying your thoughts. It wasn’t enough to drown out the memories of Logan’s claws unsheathing back at the hotel or the unspoken tension in his voice when he said, “you won’t be alone.”

“Great,” you muttered under your breath, turning away from the window. “Stuck in the middle of nowhere with nothing but cryptic warnings and empty rooms.”

You wandered back to the kitchen, hoping to find something to pass the time. The fridge was surprisingly well-stocked, and you made yourself a quick sandwich. As you ate, your gaze drifted toward the doorway, half expecting Logan to stride through it with that familiar scowl on his face.

But the doorway remained empty.

With a groan, you pushed the plate away and leaned back in the chair. “This sucks,” you muttered.

The silence pressed against your ears as you sat there, tapping your fingers on the table. You couldn’t help but think back to Logan’s expression when he’d left. There was something in his eyes—something heavy, like he was carrying more than just the weight of keeping you safe. He always did that, didn’t he? Took on the burden for everyone else, even if it meant shutting you out.

You stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. No more sitting around like a damsel in distress, you decided. If Logan was off dealing with whatever ‘big mistake’ he’d mentioned, you’d figure out how to occupy yourself in the meantime.

---

A while later, you found yourself back in one of the old classrooms. The chalkboards were dusty, and the desks were in varying states of disrepair, but it was oddly comforting in a way. You sat down at one of the desks and fiddled with a piece of chalk, drawing random lines on the board in front of you.

The quiet of the mansion felt oppressive. Every creak of the old wood or groan of the structure made your heart skip a beat. You weren’t sure if it was just your imagination playing tricks on you or if there was something more sinister lurking in the silence.

You sighed, leaning back in the chair. “Why’d you leave me here, Logan?” you muttered to yourself. The question hung in the air, unanswered, like so many others he’d dodged over the months.

As you stared at the lines you’d absentmindedly drawn, you thought back to your father. His control over your life had been suffocating, but this—running, hiding, fearing what might come next—was a different kind of prison. Logan had promised to protect you, but how could he if he wasn’t here?

A sudden noise in the hallway snapped you out of your thoughts. You froze, the piece of chalk slipping from your fingers and clattering onto the desk.

“Logan?” you called out, your voice trembling slightly. There was no response.

You rose slowly from the desk, your heart pounding in your chest. The sound came again—closer this time. It wasn’t the creak of the old mansion settling. It was deliberate, like footsteps.

You moved toward the door, peeking into the hallway. It was empty, but the faint sound of movement reached your ears from somewhere deeper in the house.

“Logan?” you tried again, your voice firmer.

Still nothing.

Clutching your jacket sleeve tightly, you stepped into the hallway, your bare feet silent against the worn wooden floors. The air felt colder somehow, and the shadows seemed to stretch longer.

You made your way toward the source of the noise, your pulse quickening with every step. Part of you wanted to turn back, to lock yourself in one of the rooms and wait for Logan to return, but you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something wasn’t right.

As you rounded the corner, you saw them. Men in dark suits, their faces obscured by the dim lighting. There were at least four of them, moving methodically through the mansion as if they knew exactly where to look.

Your breath caught in your throat. They weren’t here by accident.

You turned quickly, intending to retreat and find a place to hide, but it was too late. One of the men spotted you, his sharp eyes locking onto yours.

“She’s here!” he barked, and the others turned toward you immediately.

Panic surged through your veins as you broke into a sprint, your bare feet barely making a sound against the floor. You didn’t know where you were running, only that you had to get away.

“Stop her!” one of them shouted, and the sound of heavy footsteps followed you.

You darted into another hallway, your mind racing. You needed a plan, a way out, but the labyrinthine mansion offered no clear escape routes.

A hand suddenly grabbed your arm, yanking you backward. You let out a startled cry, struggling against the grip.

“Let go of me!” you screamed, kicking and clawing at the man holding you.

He grimaced but held firm, dragging you toward the others. “Stop fighting, or this gets messy,” he growled.

“Like hell it does,” you spat, managing to stomp on his foot hard enough to make him loosen his grip.

You broke free, stumbling forward, but another man was already there. He grabbed you by the waist, lifting you off the ground despite your thrashing.

“Let me go!” you shouted, your voice echoing through the empty halls.

“Enough!” a voice barked, and the men froze.

A figure stepped out of the shadows—an older man with a cold, calculating expression. You recognized him immediately. One of your father’s men.

“Miss Y/N,” he said smoothly, his tone dripping with false politeness. “Your father’s been worried sick about you.”

“Bullshit,” you snapped, glaring at him. “He doesn’t care about me.”

The man chuckled, a low, menacing sound. “Whether he cares or not isn’t really the issue, is it? You belong to him. And he’s decided it’s time you came home.”

“Over my dead body,” you shot back, your voice defiant even as fear coiled in your chest.

The man’s smile widened, and there was something cruel in his eyes. “If that’s what it takes.”

You struggled harder, but the men holding you were too strong. They began dragging you toward the exit, your cries for help swallowed by the vast emptiness of the mansion.

In that moment, a horrible realization settled over you. Logan wasn’t here to save you.

And this time, there was no escape.

---

The room was dim, lit by a single, flickering bulb swaying overhead. The scent of mildew clung to the air, mixing with the metallic tang of rust from the pipes along the walls. You blinked groggily, your head pounding as the events leading up to this moment replayed in your mind.

Interrogation, then murder. That’s how these things went. You knew it, had known it since you were a child sitting quietly at the top of the stairs, listening in on conversations you weren’t supposed to hear. The Romano family didn’t forgive betrayal, and neither did your father.

Your wrists ached where the rough ropes dug into them, tying you to the chair. The metal groaned beneath your weight as you tried to shift, testing the bindings. No give. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe.

From the shadows, the men emerged one by one, their faces a mix of familiarity and dread. You recognized some from your father’s estate—men who had once tipped their hats to you out of respect, now staring at you like a wolf pack eyeing its prey. Among them was Clyde Romano, his sharp suit immaculate despite the grim surroundings.

“Well, well,” Clyde drawled, adjusting his cuffs as he stepped closer. His cold eyes gleamed with a mixture of triumph and disdain. “You’ve been a busy little runaway, haven’t you?”

“Fuck you, Clyde,” you spat, your voice steadier than you expected.

He smirked, leaning in until you could feel his breath against your cheek. “Bold words for someone in your position. But that’s always been your problem, hasn’t it? Too much mouth, not enough sense.”

One of the men chuckled darkly, and you shot him a glare sharp enough to cut.

Clyde straightened, motioning for the others to spread out. “See, Y/N, this could’ve all been so simple. You play the good little bride, marry into the family, and keep your mouth shut. But no. You had to run. Had to embarrass your father. And me.”

“Embarrass you?” You barked out a bitter laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry. Were your fragile little feelings hurt because I didn’t want to be your trophy wife?”

Clyde’s smile faltered, his jaw tightening. He nodded toward one of his men, who stepped forward and struck you across the face. Pain exploded along your cheek, sharp and hot.

“Watch your mouth,” Clyde hissed.

You turned your head back slowly, your vision swimming. Blood trickled from the corner of your lip, but you smiled through it, defiant. “That all you’ve got?”

Clyde’s expression darkened, and he stepped closer, gripping your chin roughly. “You’re real brave for someone who doesn’t have a way out.”

Your stomach twisted at the truth of his words, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing fear in your eyes. “Better to die standing than live on my knees,” you shot back.

“Your boyfriend isn’t here to save you, sweetheart,” he said casually, his tone laced with mockery. “What was his name? Logan?”

Your heart clenched at the sound of his name, but you kept your face blank.

“He left you,” Clyde continued. “Just like everyone else will. Because you’re not worth the trouble.”

“That so?” you bit out. “Then why are you here?”

He stopped, looking over his shoulder with a smirk. “To clean up the mess you made.”

Clyde stepped back, giving a subtle nod to one of the men. The air seemed to thicken as the man pulled a knife from his belt, the blade glinting in the weak light.

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t look away. If this was the end, you’d meet it head-on, with your head held high.

“Any last words?” Clyde asked, his tone almost bored.

You swallowed hard, the weight of everything pressing down on you. The memories of Logan’s rough hands holding yours, his gruff voice calling you darlin’ in that way that made your chest ache, his eyes softening in those rare moments when he let his guard down.

You thought of him now—miles away, caught up in something you couldn’t begin to understand. If he were here, he’d fight. He always did. But this time, you were on your own.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill. “Go to hell.”

Clyde tilted his head, unimpressed. The man with the knife stepped forward, and you clenched your fists, bracing yourself for the inevitable.

The blade gleamed, catching the light one last time before it plunged toward you.

And then, there was only darkness.

---

Logan paced the bedroom; he had known something was off the second they got back. For one, you were nowhere in the mansion and your bag was sitting on the couch in the rec room.

Hank hesitantly stood by the doorframe for a few moments before speaking, “there’s a theory in quantum physics that time is immutable.” Logan paused his pacing as Hank continued, “it’s like a river—you can throw a pebble into it, create a ripple, but the current always corrects itself. No matter what you do, the river just… keeps flowing in the same direction.”

Logan let out a small scoff, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a fleeting smile. “The B-theory of time.”

Hank blinked, his brows furrowing. “You’re familiar with it?”

Logan shrugged, leaning back against the wall, his arms crossed. “Yeah, I’ve heard it before. Someone once tried explaining it to me—something about all moments in time existing simultaneously. Past, present, future, all laid out like pages in a book.” He tilted his head, his gaze hardening. “Didn’t make it sound any less screwed up.”

Hank tilted his head slightly, caught off guard. “That’s a fairly accurate summation, Logan. I’m… surprised you retained that much.”

Logan’s lips twitched again, but his eyes darkened with a tinge of something that looked like regret. “Good teacher,” he muttered, his voice low. His mind flicked back to the quiet hours spent with you in the rec room at the mansion, your voice steady as you explained the theories of time and space with the kind of patience that used to drive him insane. “Good teacher,” he repeated, softer this time.

Hank didn’t press the matter, though curiosity lingered in his expression. Instead, he adjusted his glasses and continued. “Right. Well, the theory suggests that no matter how many changes we attempt to make, the timeline has a way of self-correcting. That ripple you caused? It’ll still flow back into the current, Logan. That’s why it’s imperative you stay focused on the larger mission—on stopping Mystique before—”

Logan cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand. “I know, McCoy. Believe me, I get it.” His voice was rougher now, frustration creeping into his tone. “But I can’t just stand here and do nothing. She’s out there—alone—because of me.” His jaw clenched, the muscles tightening like a vice. “I should’ve stayed with her.”

“And then what?” Hank countered, his voice measured but firm. “Thrown yourself headfirst into whatever danger awaits her without a plan? Gotten yourself killed before you even had the chance to stop Mystique? Would that have helped her, Logan? Or anyone else?”

Logan exhaled harshly, raking a hand through his hair. He hated when Hank was right—hated it even more because staying put went against every instinct he had. He’d lost you too many times before, and the idea of it happening again, here in this warped timeline, made his chest feel like it was caught in a vice.

“Look,” Hank said after a pause, his tone softening. “You’re not doing her—or yourself—any favors by acting recklessly. We need you tomorrow at the hearing. Mystique’s actions will set off a chain reaction if we don’t intervene, and that means we need all hands on deck.” He gave Logan a pointed look, then hesitated before adding, “Besides, the Y/N I met didn’t strike me as someone who’d go down without a fight.”

Logan’s gaze snapped to Hank, sharp and unyielding. “What’d you say?”

Hank shifted uncomfortably. “I mean… she was a little out of her element, sure, but she seemed resourceful. Strong-willed. Determined. She’s not just going to sit around waiting to be rescued, Logan.”

Logan’s shoulders relaxed slightly at Hank’s words, though his face remained guarded. He knew you—knew that fire inside you, even in this lifetime. You’d been through hell and still managed to crack that crooked smile, to tease him when he was too gruff for his own good. If anyone could find a way out of a bad situation, it was you.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried sick.

“She’s got guts,” Logan muttered, almost to himself. “Too much, sometimes.”

Hank adjusted his glasses again, watching Logan closely. “Then trust her to hold her own until we can deal with this together. Running off now would be counterproductive and, frankly, reckless.”

Logan let out a low growl of frustration, but he didn’t argue further. Deep down, he knew Hank was right. If he ran out of here now, he’d jeopardize everything—not just the mission, but the fragile thread of hope that had brought him to this point.

Still, the ache in his chest wouldn’t subside. It never did, not when it came to you.

“She’d better be okay,” he muttered, more to himself than to Hank. “Or I’ll—” His voice caught, and he shook his head. “Never mind.”

Hank didn’t respond immediately. He just watched as Logan sank into the chair by the window, his gaze distant.

For now, all Logan could do was wait.

---

Logan woke up to the sun shining through green curtains as he lay on his side, clutching his pillow. He turned over to look at the holographic clock on the other side of the bed, a stack of books on the table along with a single pen.

“The first time, ever I saw your face.”

He sat up, groggy as he looked at the familiar gold doorknob.

“I thought the sun,” Logan stood up and opened the door as a school bell rang and a kid walked out of their room. “Rose in your eyes.” He saw Bobby standing against a door frame as Rogue walked out and grabbed his hand, the two of them glancing over at Logan before walking away.

Logan walked by a classroom where Kitty was at the head of the room, a hologram in her hands, “Buckminster Fuller is a great example of an architect whose ideas were very similar to those of a utopian future. He would build structures that would work with nature, versus against it.”

He looked down the hall as Beast walked past him, clad in a brown suit, “morning, Logan. Late start,” he chuckled, as Logan watched him walk by.

Logan then walked down the stairs, seeing students converse with Storm. He continued his way down the stairs and into the open area, seeing familiar red hair leaning against the Professor’s open door.

Jean turned to look at him, “hey, Logan,” she softly called out as he glanced her way and back down the other hallways.

He saw a group of students walking huddled together before splitting apart briefly as you walked past them.

Logan’s breath hitched as you walked past the group of students, your hair catching the light streaming through the mansion’s tall windows. You didn’t notice him immediately, too focused on the stack of papers in your arms and the pen tucked behind your ear. He froze in place, his heart pounding like it hadn’t in years—decades, even.

You glanced up just as you passed him, pausing mid-step when your eyes met his. There was warmth in your gaze, that familiar spark he’d seen so many lifetimes ago, but this time it wasn’t tinged with hesitation or confusion. It was easy. Natural.

“There you are,” you said, a small smile gracing your lips as you adjusted the papers in your arms. “I was about to come looking for you. Late morning?”

Logan stared at you for a beat too long, the sound of your voice wrapping around him like a long-lost melody. He blinked, clearing his throat and trying to push past the lump that had formed there. “Yeah... guess so.”

Your smile widened, though your brow furrowed just slightly. “You okay, Lo?” you asked softly, stepping closer.

He managed a nod, though his throat felt tight. “Yeah, just... uh, still waking up, I guess.”

You tilted your head slightly, studying him in that way you always used to when something seemed off. “Well, if you’re awake enough, maybe you could help me wrangle some of the kids for class?” You gestured toward the papers in your arms. “I need to grab a few more things, and Laura’s been trying to skip out on physics again. You didn’t even budge when the alarm went off this morning, but you’re lucky Scott owed you a favor, so he covered your history class—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence when Logan’s arms wrapped around you, his hold firm but not crushing. His head burrowed into the crook of your neck, and for a moment, everything around you seemed to pause. You blinked, startled, the stack of papers in your arms wobbling precariously before you instinctively steadied them against your chest.

“Logan?” you asked softly, your voice tinged with concern and confusion. “What’s going on?”

He didn’t answer right away. His breathing was heavy, his body tense against yours as though he was clinging to something—or someone—he thought he’d lost. The warmth of his presence, his scent of leather and pine, was familiar, but this intensity was new.

You let the silence hang for a moment, your free hand instinctively lifting to rest on his shoulder. “Lo,” you tried again, your tone softer now, laced with the kind of patience that only years together had nurtured. “Talk to me.”

Logan pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, but his hands remained firm on your waist. His eyes were wild, scanning your face like he was searching for proof that you were real. For a fleeting second, you caught something raw in his expression—something vulnerable.

“You’re here,” he muttered, almost to himself. His voice was hoarse, as though he hadn’t spoken in days. “You’re… really here.”

Your brows knitted together as you tilted your head, trying to piece together what could have possibly spurred this reaction. “Of course I’m here,” you said with a small, hesitant laugh, your hand sliding from his shoulder to his cheek. “Where else would I be?”

Before Logan could respond, the unmistakable sound of small, hurried footsteps echoed down the hall. A high-pitched voice followed, cutting through the moment like a pebble skipping across still water.

“Daddy!”

Logan froze. His hands fell away from your waist as a little girl with dark hair barreled toward the two of you, her pigtails bouncing with each step. She clung to Logan’s leg without hesitation, looking up at him with the wide, innocent eyes of someone who knew no fear or doubt.

Gabby.

The name surfaced in Logan’s mind like a fragment from a dream, though it came with no context—no memories to anchor it. He stared down at the child, his breath catching as she grinned up at him.

“Daddy, I found you!” she declared triumphantly, like it was a great accomplishment. “Laura said you were being slow again.”

You chuckled softly, crouching down to ruffle Gabby’s hair. “What did we say about calling your dad slow?” you teased gently, though there was no real reprimand in your tone.

Gabby giggled, leaning into your touch. “Only when it’s funny?”

“Exactly,” you replied with a smirk before standing again and glancing at Logan, who still hadn’t moved or spoken. “Lo, you okay?” you asked again, your concern deepening.

Logan’s gaze flicked between you and Gabby, his chest tightening. The ring on your finger caught the light as you moved, and for the first time, he noticed it—the familiar band of gold he’d carried for over a century.

His heart stuttered. You’re wearing it.

“Logan?” you pressed, stepping closer again. Gabby, still holding onto his leg, tilted her head in confusion.

Logan swallowed hard, forcing himself to push past the whirlwind in his mind. “Yeah,” he rasped, his voice strained but steady enough. “I’m fine.”

You didn’t look convinced, but you didn’t push him. Instead, you nodded toward the stack of papers in your arms. “You sure? Because if you’re about to have an existential crisis, I need you to hold off until after you help me track down Laura. Deal?”

Logan blinked, your teasing tone pulling him out of his daze. He managed a weak chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. Deal.”

Gabby tugged at his pant leg, her face scrunched in determination. “Daddy, can we get pancakes after? Laura said she’d eat ten, but I bet I could eat twelve.”

You snorted softly, looking between Gabby and Logan with an amused smile. “You’re not actually gonna let her eat twelve pancakes, are you?”

Logan’s lips twitched, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’ll see,” he said gruffly, his mind still miles away as he tried to make sense of everything.

You gave him another look, your brows furrowing slightly, but you let it go for now. “Come on,” you said, shifting the papers in your arms. “Let’s get this day started.”

As you turned to lead Gabby toward the stairs, Logan lingered for a moment, his eyes fixed on the gold band on your finger. His thoughts churned, the weight of the moment pressing down on him like a heavy fog.

He needed answers. And he knew exactly who to talk to.

---

Logan pushed open the door to Charles’s office without knocking, his usual roughness softened just enough by the turmoil bubbling beneath his skin. Charles, sitting calmly at his desk with his hands folded, looked up with a raised brow.

“Logan,” Charles greeted, his tone patient but curious. “I wasn’t expecting you so early. Is everything alright?”

Logan stepped inside, closing the door behind him before glancing over his shoulder. He needed to make sure you hadn’t followed. When he was satisfied, he turned back to Charles, his jaw tightening.

“No,” Logan said simply. “We need to talk. Now.”

Charles’s brow furrowed, and he gestured to the chair in front of him. “Please, sit. Tell me what’s troubling you.”

Logan ignored the chair, pacing instead. “I woke up this morning, and I—” He dragged a hand down his face, struggling to find the words. “Chuck, I ain’t supposed to be here. This… this timeline, it ain’t mine.”

Charles’s expression shifted, his calm demeanor replaced with something more serious. “I see,” he said carefully. “Go on.”

“You remember what Kitty did,” Logan said, stopping to lean on the edge of the desk. “Sending my mind back to ’73, to fix everything. To stop the Sentinels.”

“Yes,” Charles replied, his voice steady. “And you succeeded, Logan. The world you’re in now is a result of that success.”

Logan’s laugh was bitter, shaking his head. “Then why the hell don’t I remember it, huh? Why do I remember… all of it? The Sentinels. The Phoenix. Y/N—” His voice cracked, and he looked away, his fists clenching. “She died, Chuck. In my timeline, she died. Jean, too. All of you.”

Charles regarded him quietly, his hands still folded. “Logan, the mind is a complicated thing. It’s possible that in the process of returning you to this point in time, fragments of your original timeline have remained intact.”

“Fragments?” Logan scoffed, pushing off the desk to pace again. “Chuck, this ain’t fragments. I remember it all. I remember her dying six times, dammit. I remember the look on her face when she—” He stopped himself, his breathing ragged.

Charles’s expression softened. “Logan, this is your life now. Whatever timeline you came from, whatever you remember, it’s in the past. This is your reality now. Y/N is alive. Jean is alive. You have a family, a home.”

Logan’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “Yeah, but it ain’t mine. This ring—” He held up his own hand with his own ring, the band of gold catching the light. “I didn’t put it on her finger, Chuck. Some other version of me did. And I don’t know how to be him.”

Charles leaned forward slightly, his voice gentle but firm. “Then perhaps it’s time you learned. For her. For your family.”

Logan stared at him, his chest tight. He wanted to argue, to push back, but the truth of Charles’s words settled heavy in his gut. He’d fought so hard to change the future, to make sure you and everyone else had a chance at a better life. Now that it was here, he didn’t know how to live in it.

He rubbed a hand over his face, exhaling shakily. “What do I do, Chuck?”

Charles smiled faintly. “You take it one day at a time, Logan. And you start by going back to her.”

---

You stood in the Professor’s office, your arms crossed, the faint cherry gloss on your lips catching the sunlight through the large windows. You tilted your head slightly, studying Logan as he leaned against the desk, his expression unreadable but tense.

“So…” you began, your voice soft but steady, “you’re from a different timeline? One where none of this happened?”

Logan exhaled heavily, running a hand through his unruly hair. “Yeah, sweetheart. That’s about the size of it.”

Your gaze flicked between him and Charles, who sat calmly behind his desk, his hands folded in front of him. “And in that timeline…” you hesitated, your voice faltering slightly. “What happened to me?”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his eyes briefly darting away from yours before he forced himself to meet your gaze. The weight of his memories hung between you, unspoken but palpable.

“You didn’t make it,” he admitted, his voice low and gravelly.

The room felt colder, the air heavier as his words settled over you. You shifted slightly, gripping your own arms as if to steady yourself.

“But not this time,” Charles interjected gently, his calm voice breaking the silence. “This timeline is different, Y/N. You survived, as did many others who didn’t in Logan’s original timeline.”

You turned to Charles, your brow furrowing. “How? How is that even possible? Timelines aren’t just malleable—”

“They are when someone like Kitty Pryde is involved,” Charles replied, his tone steady but kind. “Logan changed the future, which altered the past. But it seems his mind retained the memories of his original timeline when he was brought back.”

You looked at Logan, your head spinning as you tried to wrap your mind around what they were telling you. “So… you’re saying that everything I remember—all the years we’ve been together, raising Gabby and Laura—they’re real, but to you, they’re…”

“New,” Logan finished for you. He pushed off the desk, his hands going to his hips as he paced the room. “To me, darlin’, this—” he gestured vaguely at the mansion around him, “—this is all brand new. The last thing I remember before waking up this morning was bein’ in 1973, tryin’ to stop Mystique from killin’ Trask.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out. The Logan standing before you was so familiar, yet so… not. He was the same man you’d spent decades with, and yet he wasn’t.

“You’re still you,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan stopped pacing, turning to look at you. His gaze softened slightly, the hard edges of his frustration melting away. “Yeah,” he said gruffly. “Still me.”

“But you don’t remember Gabby or Laura,” you said, a pang of sadness creeping into your voice. “You don’t remember us.”

Logan’s expression twisted with guilt. “No, sweetheart,” he admitted. “Not the way I should. But I’m tryin’. I swear to you, I’m gonna figure this out.”

You stepped closer to him, your glasses sliding slightly down your nose as you looked up into his eyes. “You’re not alone in this, Logan,” you said softly. “We’ll figure it out together.”

He stared at you, his throat tightening at the unwavering trust in your eyes. Slowly, he reached out, his large hand brushing against yours before taking it fully. “Thanks, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice rough but sincere.

Charles cleared his throat gently, drawing your attention. “The bond you two share has persisted across lifetimes,” he said. “It is not surprising that it remains strong, even now.”

You glanced back at Logan, your fingers still entwined with his. “I guess it’s just one more thing we’ve survived together,” you said with a faint smile.

Logan’s lips quirked upward, just barely. “Yeah,” he said. “Guess so.”

But as the three of you stood there, Logan couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of a much bigger challenge. For now, though, he let himself hold onto your hand, grounding himself in the one constant he’d always known: you.

---

Laura stared across the table at Logan, her sharp eyes taking in every detail of his face as if she were trying to find something different, something off. Meanwhile, Gabby’s bright voice filled the dining room.

“And then, they just grow back their limbs! Like, if an axolotl loses a leg or even its tail, it’s all, poof! Fixed!” Gabby made an exaggerated explosion motion with her hands, her fork clattering against her plate. “Isn’t that cool, Daddy?”

Logan blinked, dragging himself out of his thoughts. “Uh, yeah, kid. Real cool.” His voice was gruff but softer than usual as he glanced at her. Gabby beamed, apparently satisfied with his half-hearted response, and took another bite of her pancake.

“Dad doesn’t even know what an axolotl is,” Laura said flatly, her gaze never leaving him.

Gabby gasped, scandalized. “Laura! Of course he does! He’s Daddy! He knows everything!”

Logan scratched the back of his neck, an awkward chuckle slipping out. “Well, I wouldn’t say everything…”

Laura narrowed her eyes slightly, leaning back in her chair. “You’re acting weird.”

“Laura,” you said gently, walking into the room with a cup of coffee in hand. You leaned against the doorway, your glasses slipping down your nose just a touch as you looked at your daughter. “Be nice.”

“She’s not wrong,” Logan muttered under his breath, but you caught it and shot him a warning look.

Laura crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed. “He didn’t even laugh at Gabby’s joke about Mom’s coffee yesterday. That’s how you know something’s wrong.”

You hid your smile behind your mug. “To be fair, it wasn’t a great joke, Gabby.”

“It was hilarious!” Gabby protested, slapping her hands on the table for emphasis.

“Sure, sweetie,” you said with a chuckle, walking over to Logan. Your hand found his shoulder as you leaned down slightly. “Why don’t you two finish breakfast? We’ll be right back.”

Logan shot you a look but didn’t argue as you guided him out of the room, your hand lingering on his arm for a moment before you let go. You didn’t stop until you were in the hallway, far enough from the dining room that the girls couldn’t hear you.

“You’re gonna have to stop looking like a deer in headlights every time Gabby says something,” you said quietly, your tone soft but firm. “She’s going to figure it out if you keep that up.”

Logan let out a long sigh, leaning against the wall. “I’m tryin’, sweetheart. It’s just…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair.

“Overwhelming?” you finished for him.

“Yeah. That.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes meeting yours. “I don’t know how to do this. Any of this. I don’t remember gettin’ married or havin’ kids. And now, I’ve got a eleven-year-old givin’ me the third degree and a five-year-old who thinks I hung the moon.”

“They’re your daughters, Logan,” you said softly. “And they adore you. Just… be yourself. You’ve always been a good dad to them. That hasn’t changed.”

Logan looked at you, his expression a mixture of uncertainty and determination. “And you?”

“What about me?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.

“How do I do right by you?” His voice was low, the vulnerability in it catching you off guard.

You stepped closer, your hand brushing his. “You’re already doin’ it,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “We’ll figure this out together. Just like we always do.”

He let out a low huff, leaning his side against the wall, “well, if I have to hear one more word about an axolotl and their gills, I might lose it.”

You leaned into the wall, mimicking Logan’s stance, your lips twitching upward as you adjusted your glasses. “Actually, axolotls have both gills and lungs, so they can breathe underwater and directly from the air. But they rely on their gills more than their lungs because they’re primarily aquatic. Oh, and their gills are those frilly things you see sticking out of their necks—external gills, which are super rare in vertebrates…”

Logan’s eyebrows rose slowly, and a wry grin began to tug at the corner of his mouth as your words spilled out faster than you seemed to realize.

“And did you know,” you continued, your voice picking up slightly as you adjusted your glasses again, “they stay in a juvenile state their whole lives? It’s called neoteny, and—”

Logan finally let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Alright, darlin’, I get it. You’re where Gabby gets it from.”

You paused mid-ramble, your brow furrowing as you looked up at him. “Gets what?”

“The whole talk a mile a minute about stuff that makes the rest of us feel like idiots thing,” he teased, his tone gruff but warm. “She starts goin’ on about somethin’, an’ it’s like watchin’ a little tornado of facts. Now I know where she gets it.”

Your cheeks flushed slightly, a mix of amusement and bashfulness flashing across your face. “I don’t talk that much.”

Logan arched a brow, his grin widening just a touch. “Sure, sweetheart. Keep tellin’ yourself that.”

You huffed, pushing lightly against his chest with the back of your hand, though your lips tugged into a reluctant smile. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you’re still stuck with me,” he teased, his tone laced with an unexpected softness.

For a moment, you both stood there in the hallway, the din of breakfast chatter echoing faintly behind the door. Logan’s eyes lingered on you, the faint cherry gloss on your lips catching his attention again as sunlight streamed in through the nearby window.

“I really mean it, darlin’,” Logan said after a beat, his voice dipping into something deeper. “You’ve got no idea how much I appreciate you holdin’ this together. All this…” He gestured vaguely, his expression faltering for a second. “It’s a lot to take in.”

Your smile softened, and you reached for his hand instinctively. “We’ve been through worse, Logan. Together. We always find a way.”

Logan’s gaze dropped to your intertwined hands, the touch grounding him. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Always.”

Before the moment could settle further, Scott and Jean walked past the two of you, entering the kitchen. You grabbed Logan’s hand, “c’mon, I want you to see somethin’.”

You pulled Logan to the doorway of the kitchen, motioning for him to stay quiet. His brow furrowed, but he didn’t resist as he leaned slightly into the frame beside you, peeking into the room. Scott was at the counter, pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee, while Jean stood nearby, polishing an apple against her sleeve.

“Why are we standin’ here like—” Logan began, but you held up a finger to shush him.

“Wait for it,” you murmured, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

From behind the island, Gabby and Laura crouched in near-perfect silence. Gabby’s face was alight with glee as Laura whispered instructions, holding a small device that looked suspiciously like something Jones might have helped them cobble together.

Logan squinted. “What the hell are they—”

“Shh!” you hissed, suppressing a grin as Laura pressed a button on the device.

The coffee maker on the counter suddenly sputtered and hissed, steam pouring out in dramatic bursts as it began to shake. Scott froze mid-sip, frowning at the machine.

“What the—” Scott leaned in cautiously, placing his mug down.

With a loud pop, a stream of glitter shot out from the coffee maker, spraying directly onto Scott’s chest and face. His entire upper body sparkled in gold and silver flecks as he stumbled back, coughing in surprise.

Gabby popped up from behind the counter, arms thrown in the air triumphantly. “Success!”

Laura stood beside her, a small, satisfied smirk tugging at her lips. “Glitter bomb: 100% effective.”

Logan stared, wide-eyed, as Scott wiped at his face in a futile attempt to rid himself of the glitter. “Girls,” Scott said, his voice low and measured in a tone that suggested he was summoning all of his patience, “what did I say about tamperin’ with the coffee maker?”

Gabby, undeterred, pointed at him dramatically. “You said don’t do it. But you never said we couldn’t improve it.”

Jean bit into her apple, turning slightly away to hide her laughter behind a hand.

“You let them do this?” Scott asked, glaring at her.

“I let them? Scott, they’re your nieces,” Jean said smoothly, not bothering to hide the amusement in her tone.

“They’re your nieces too!” Scott protested, but Jean just shrugged, taking another bite of her apple.

Logan let out a low chuckle beside you, shaking his head. “They’re somethin’ else.”

You grinned, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “They’re just like you.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you know exactly what it means,” you teased. “You’re as much of a troublemaker as they are. Don’t think I haven’t seen the pranks you’ve pulled.”

“Pranks? Me?” Logan’s expression feigned innocence, though the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. “Sweetheart, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Right,” you drawled, clearly unconvinced. “You’ve just coincidentally passed on all your mischief genes to Laura and Gabby?”

Logan let out a soft laugh, his gaze flicking back to the kitchen where Gabby was now dancing around Scott, singing, “Uncle Scott is the glitter king!” at the top of her lungs.

Laura crossed her arms, clearly pleased with her handiwork. “Don’t worry. It’s biodegradable glitter,” she said in a tone that suggested she didn’t actually care about Scott’s glitter predicament but wanted to seem magnanimous.

Scott groaned, his voice rising in frustration. “You two better clean this up. And my shirt. And my—” He gestured vaguely at his glitter-covered face.

Gabby giggled. “Sure, Uncle Scott. Right after breakfast.”

Scott turned to Jean for backup, but she just shrugged again. ���You’ll be fine, Scott. You’ve been through worse.”

“Not worse than this,” Scott muttered darkly, picking at a gold fleck on his visor.

You stifled another laugh as Logan crossed his arms, watching the scene unfold with an almost paternal fondness. “They really only prank Summers?”

You nodded, grinning. “Every time. Jean’s always off-limits, but Scott? Fair game. Laura says it builds his character.”

Logan shook his head, still smiling. “Kid’s got my sense of humor, all right.”

“See?” you said, leaning closer to him. “They’re just like you.”

Logan glanced down at you, his expression softening as his gaze lingered. “Guess I’ve got a lot to live up to, huh?”

“You already do,” you said quietly, your hand brushing against his. “More than you know.”

Before Logan could respond, Gabby’s excited voice interrupted. “Mommy! Daddy! Did you see? Uncle Scott’s a walking disco ball!”

You turned just as Gabby bolted toward you both, her small arms outstretched. Logan instinctively crouched to catch her as she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Did you like it, Daddy?” Gabby asked, her face bright with anticipation.

Logan hesitated, his arms tightening slightly around her as he glanced at you for guidance. You smiled, nodding almost imperceptibly.

“Yeah, kid,” Logan said finally, his voice gruff but warm. “You got him good.”

Gabby beamed, hugging him tighter before pulling back to look at him. “Laura says we should do water balloons next time. But I think paint bombs would be cooler.”

Logan chuckled, standing with her still in his arms. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Gabby.”

Gabby laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder. You watched the two of them, your chest tightening at the sight of Logan holding her so naturally, even if his memories of her weren’t there yet.

Logan caught your eye, his expression unreadable but intense, as if he were trying to piece together the life he couldn’t remember but was already a part of.

For now, you just smiled, stepping closer to place a hand on his arm. “Come on,” you said softly. “Let’s get back in there before Scott recruits you to clean up his glitter.”

Logan let out a low chuckle, his grip on Gabby firm as he followed you back into the kitchen, the warmth of the moment settling around the three of you like a quiet promise.

---

Jean sighed and stepped away, her hands falling from Logan’s temples as she crossed her arms. “I’m sorry, Logan. There’s not much else I can do.”

Logan remained seated, his elbows resting on his knees as his hands clenched together. “So, that’s it? Nothin’? Not even a flicker?”

Jean’s expression softened, but there was a hint of frustration in her voice, more directed at herself than him. “You’ve got a wall in your mind, Logan. One I can’t break through without risking your memories now. If I push too hard, I could do more harm than good.”

He let out a low growl, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Feels like I’m livin’ someone else’s life. Like it ain’t mine.”

“You are living your life,” Jean insisted gently. “This is you. You’re just missing… the journey that got you here.”

Logan ran a hand down his face, leaning back in the chair. His gaze drifted to the floor, but his thoughts were miles away. He could feel the weight of everything—the ring on your hand, the way Gabby called him ‘daddy,’ Laura’s quiet smirk when she saw him, the way you looked at him with such love and familiarity. It wasn’t foreign; it was right. But it was also wrong because he didn’t remember any of it.

Jean knelt beside him, her voice quieter now. “You’ve built something beautiful here, Logan. Something you fought for, even if you can’t remember how. Maybe instead of chasing what’s missing, you should try to live in what’s here.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his mind battling with itself. Before he could respond, a voice broke the heavy silence.

“Logan?” Your voice was soft but steady from the doorway.

His head snapped up, and for a moment, the tension in his shoulders eased. “Hey, darlin’.”

Jean rose, excusing herself with a subtle nod toward you. As she passed, she gave your arm a gentle squeeze, her own way of offering support, before disappearing down the hall.

You stepped inside, watching Logan closely as you approached. “How are you feeling?”

“Like my head’s been through the ringer,” he muttered, trying to muster a smirk but failing. “Jean couldn’t find much.”

You perched on the arm of the chair, your hand instinctively reaching for his shoulder. “It’s okay,” you said softly, your thumb tracing small circles over his flannel. “You don’t have to remember everything all at once.”

He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “That’s just it. I don’t remember any of it—marryin’ you, findin’ Laura, havin’ Gabby. None of it’s mine.”

Your heart ached at the rawness in his voice, but you squeezed his shoulder gently. “It is yours. Maybe not in the way you think, but it’s yours, Logan. We’re yours.”

He looked up at you then, his eyes darker, clouded with something you couldn’t quite name. “You’re takin’ this awful well.”

You smiled faintly, brushing a stray curl away from his forehead. “I told you when we got married, remember? That no matter what happens, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Don’t remember that, either,” he admitted gruffly, though there was a flicker of warmth in his voice.

“Well,” you teased lightly, trying to ease the tension, “lucky for you, I do.”

Logan’s hand came up, his fingers brushing against yours where they rested on his shoulder. He didn’t say anything, but the weight of his grip spoke volumes.

You brought him into your side, his head resting below your collarbone on your chest, and a small, bittersweet smile crept onto your lips. “It’s kinda ironic if you think about it.”

Logan’s voice was muffled against you, but there was a familiar gruffness to it. “What is?”

“This,” you said softly, one hand brushing through his hair while the other traced idle circles on his shoulder. “You remember all those lives I don’t, and now we’re here, and I’m the one who remembers… but you don’t.”

Logan let out a humorless chuckle, his arms tightening around your waist. “Yeah, darlin’, real funny.”

“Ironic,” you corrected, the corner of your mouth twitching upward, though the ache in your chest lingered. “Not funny.”

Logan exhaled deeply, his breath warm against your collarbone. “Guess I deserve that, huh? All those times, I remembered you, and now you’re stuck rememberin’ for me.”

You stilled your hand for a moment, then leaned back just enough to make him look at you. His eyes were darker than usual, shadowed with frustration and something deeper you couldn’t name. “You don’t deserve this, Logan,” you said firmly. “Don’t ever think that.”

He searched your face, his jaw tightening as he swallowed hard. “Feels like I do,” he murmured. “Every time I’ve lost you… it’s been my fault somehow. Every damn time. And now—” He cut himself off, shaking his head as though trying to dislodge the thought.

“And now,” you said, finishing for him, “you haven’t lost me.”

Logan’s gaze softened, his thumb brushing unconsciously over the fabric of your shirt where his hand rested on your waist. “Not yet.”

“Not at all,” you said, your voice steady. “You’ve got me, Logan. I’m right here.”

His lips twitched, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “For now.”

You sighed, cupping his cheek and guiding his gaze back to yours when it started to drift. “Logan. Stop. We’ve been married for nearly twenty years. I know this is… a lot. It’s a lot for me, too. But you don’t have to figure it all out today, or tomorrow, or even next week.”

He huffed a small laugh, his hand moving to rest over yours. “You always this patient?”

“Only with you,” you teased gently, though the warmth in your voice was genuine. “So don’t make me regret it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, and for a moment, his smirk was almost real.

You smiled back, letting the silence settle for a few beats before Logan’s arms tightened around you again, pulling you closer. His head rested against your chest, his body warm and solid against yours, and for a moment, you just held him.

---

Footsteps thundered across the broken ground, and then he was there. Logan dropped to his knees beside you, his hands immediately reaching for you, shaking you gently but urgently. “Sweetheart, no, no—open your eyes,” he pleaded, his voice cracking as his hands moved from your face to your shoulders, searching for signs of life.

Your body was limp in his arms, your chest still, your face losing color.

Logan’s breaths came in short, harsh gasps as he pulled you against him, cradling you like you might slip away entirely if he let go. “Y/N,” he whispered, the single word a broken prayer, an unbearable weight of grief choking him. His hands shook as they smoothed over your hair, as though trying to coax you back to him with touch alone.

He didn’t notice Ororo land nearby, didn’t register her sharp intake of breath as she took in the scene. Her hand came up to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror, but she didn’t approach. Behind her, Bobby and Kitty stood frozen, their expressions stricken, but they too stayed back. Even Peter, with his usual strength and calm, had no words.

Logan didn’t care that they were there. Didn’t care about anything except the motionless weight in his arms. He rocked you slightly, his forehead pressing against yours as his ragged breaths turned into choked sobs. “You weren’t supposed to—damn it, you weren’t supposed to do this,” he growled, his voice breaking as he fought against the tears burning in his eyes. “Not this time. Not again.”

Logan pressed his lips to your forehead, his hands shaking as they cupped your face. “Come on, darlin’,” he whispered, his voice soft and cracked. “You’re stronger than this. You’re too stubborn to leave me. Just—just come back.”

The others stood frozen, unable to move, unable to interrupt the devastating scene unfolding before them. Ororo’s hand clutched her chest, tears streaking down her face as she turned away, giving Logan what little privacy she could in this moment of unbearable pain.

But Logan didn’t notice. He couldn’t notice. His world had narrowed to you—the unbearable stillness of your body, the haunting silence that surrounded you now.

He didn’t let go, even as the destruction around them finally began to settle, the last vestiges of Jean’s power fading into nothingness. His arms tightened around you, his forehead pressing to yours again as he whispered brokenly, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t save you. I’m so damn sorry.”

Time seemed to stand still in the worst possible way. For the first time in his long, painful life, Logan felt completely and utterly powerless. The ring he’d carried for over a century burned like a brand against his chest, a cruel reminder of all the promises he’d never been able to keep.

Logan buried his face against your neck, his voice raw as he whispered, “I was gonna tell you. About the ring. About everything. You—you deserved to know.” His thumb brushed over your cheek, as if he could will the life back into you.

He pulled back, his tear-streaked face contorted in anguish as he gazed down at you. “I love you,” he said, his voice breaking on every syllable. “I’ve loved you through every lifetime, and I’ll love you in the next one, too. But please, sweetheart, don’t make me wait again. Not this time. Please.”

His hands trembled as he touched your cheek again, his thumb brushing over your skin like it might bring you back. “I love you,” he repeated, his voice hoarse. “I’ll always love you.”

But you didn’t move. Your chest didn’t rise. You were gone.

Logan’s breath hitched as he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead—one last desperate, lingering moment of tenderness. When he pulled back, his gaze swept over your still features, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and devastation.

Behind him, Ororo, Bobby, Kitty, and Peter stood at a distance, their faces drawn with grief. None of them moved to intervene. They knew better than to intrude on this moment, on Logan’s anguish.

The air felt impossibly heavy as Logan shifted, gathering your lifeless form into his arms. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though handling something too precious to break further. He cradled you close, his head bowing as he let out a shuddering breath. The others watched as he rose to his feet, every muscle in his body screaming in protest, though he showed no sign of it.

“Logan…” Ororo began softly, stepping forward.

He didn’t acknowledge her. His eyes were locked on you, his focus unwavering. Without a word, he turned away, carrying you toward the bridge. There was no Blackbird to take them home—Jean’s power had obliterated it along with so much else—but Logan didn’t seem to care about the logistics. His only concern was you.

---

Logan jerked awake, gasping, his body tense and drenched in cold sweat. The dim light of the bedroom barely illuminated his surroundings, but he didn’t need it to know where he was. The warmth beside him, the faint scent of your cherry lip gloss lingering in the air—those were enough to remind him. This was 2023. You were alive.

He turned his head to look at you, his breathing still uneven. You were curled on your side, your glasses resting on the nightstand, your hand loosely clutching the blanket. Peaceful. Alive.

“Logan?” your voice, soft and drowsy, broke the silence. You stirred, sensing his distress even in your half-asleep state. “What’s wrong?”

He swallowed hard, running a hand down his face. “Nothin’, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice rough and unconvincing. “Go back to sleep.”

But you sat up anyway, your hair slightly mussed, your gaze focusing on him even without your glasses. “You had another nightmare, didn’t you?” You reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Was it… bad?”

Logan closed his eyes, exhaling shakily. He wanted to lie, to brush it off and tell you he was fine, but the weight of the memory still clung to him like a shadow he couldn’t shake. “Yeah,” he admitted finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

Without hesitation, you slid closer to him, wrapping your arms around his torso. “It’s okay,” you murmured, resting your head against his shoulder. “I’m here.”

His body stiffened at first, the vulnerability of the moment making his instincts scream to pull away, but then he let out a shaky breath and folded you into his arms. The solid warmth of you against him—the weight of your presence—was like a lifeline, anchoring him back to the present.

“I dreamed about… losin’ you,” he said after a long moment, his voice low and raw. “It—it was like I could feel it happenin’ all over again.”

Your heart ached at the pain in his tone, but you didn’t pull back. Instead, you tightened your hold on him, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “You didn’t lose me,” you whispered. “I’m right here, Logan.”

His arms tightened around you as though he needed to remind himself you were real. After a few moments, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching your face like he was memorizing every detail. His hands came up to frame your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks.

“I gotta hold you,” he said, his voice gruff but almost pleading. “Just let me—” His words faltered, and he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was desperate yet tender, like he was pouring all the fear and love in his heart into the connection.

You kissed him back without hesitation, your hands resting on his chest. But when he pulled back only to kiss you again—this time slower, deeper—you pulled away slightly, just enough to catch your breath. “Logan,” you murmured, your voice gentle, “are you sure you’re okay?”

His forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “Just lemme kiss you, please,” he said softly, his voice almost breaking. “Need to feel you. Need to know you’re here.”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you nodded, your hands sliding up to cup his face. “I’m here,” you whispered, pressing your lips to his again, reassuring him with every touch that you weren’t going anywhere.

Time seemed to stop as you stayed like that, locked in the quiet intimacy of the moment. His hands moved to your waist, holding you securely, while yours stayed on his face, grounding him. Eventually, you pulled back, your noses brushing, your breaths mingling.

“You wanna talk about it?” you asked softly, your fingers tracing soothing patterns along his jawline.

Logan hesitated, his eyes flickering with something raw and unspoken. “Not yet,” he admitted, his voice thick. “Just… don’t leave me tonight, darlin’.”

You shook your head, offering him a soft smile despite the emotion welling in your chest. “I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, wrapping your arms around him again.

---

The Blackbird hummed steadily, the low vibration underscoring the tense silence among the team. You glanced toward Logan, his expression hard and unreadable as he stared out the small window. He hadn’t said much since takeoff, and you didn’t push him. Instead, you’d focused on Jean, who was reviewing the mission details, and Scott, who’d been unusually quiet.

“I can handle this,” Logan had said when you vouched for him earlier. You hadn’t doubted him then, and you didn’t now. But Scott’s skepticism hung heavy in the cabin, evident in every glance he shot Logan’s way.

You let out a soft breath and shifted in your seat, nudging Logan’s arm with your elbow. “Hey,” you said quietly, leaning in. “You good?”

Logan turned his head, his eyes meeting yours for a moment. He nodded, though his jaw stayed tight. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m fine.”

You didn’t buy it, but you let it go. For now.

Scott’s voice cut through the tension. “We’re approaching the drop zone. Everyone stay sharp. This should be quick, but let’s not get sloppy.”

“Sloppy?” Logan muttered under his breath. “We don’t do sloppy.”

Scott shot him a look from the cockpit but didn’t respond, and you bit back a small smile despite the nerves fluttering in your chest.

---

The mission was supposed to be simple. Extract intel, neutralize threats, and get out. But as usual, things didn’t go as planned.

The team moved as a unit through the labyrinthine corridors of the facility, the dim lighting casting long shadows that danced with every flicker of movement. Logan was at the front, claws out, his senses leading the way. You stayed close, your focus split between him and the others.

“Jean, you got eyes on the server room?” Scott’s voice crackled through the comms.

“About twenty meters ahead,” Jean replied, her voice calm despite the rising tension.

Logan’s claws retracted with a snikt as he held up a hand, signaling everyone to stop. His nose twitched, and his head tilted slightly. “Something’s off,” he murmured, his voice low.

Before anyone could ask what, the ground beneath your feet rumbled, and the corridor ahead exploded in a burst of heat and light. You stumbled back, shielding your face, as alarms blared throughout the facility.

“Damn it!” Scott barked. “It’s a trap!”

Logan was already moving, his claws gleaming as he launched himself toward the first wave of attackers. “Get to the server room!” he shouted over his shoulder. “I’ll clear the way!”

“Logan, wait—” But he was gone, a blur of fury and precision as he tore through the enemy.

You exchanged a quick glance with Jean and Ororo before taking off in the opposite direction with them. The mission had gone sideways, but there was no time to panic. Focus was key.

---

You weren’t sure how long it had been—minutes? Hours? The battle had stretched into chaos, and every step felt like a fight to stay alive. You found yourself separated from the others, the air thick with smoke and the metallic tang of blood.

Your powers buzzed beneath your skin, a familiar warning. You’d been careful not to overuse them, knowing the toll it took, but the situation left you little choice. Cornered by a group of heavily armed soldiers, you raised your hands, time itself seeming to shudder as you concentrated.

The soldiers froze mid-step, their weapons hanging suspended in the air. Sweat beaded on your forehead as you pushed harder, distorting the flow of time around you. The strain was immediate, your body protesting as you manipulated the anomaly.

“Y/N!” Logan’s voice cut through the haze, rough and urgent. He appeared out of the smoke, his claws dripping red. His eyes widened when he saw you, the flickering distortion around you making it clear you were at your limit.

“I’m fine,” you said, though your voice was strained. “Go help the others.”

“Like hell,” Logan growled, rushing to your side. His hand gripped your arm firmly but gently. “Stop this. You’re gonna tear yourself apart.”

“I can handle it,” you insisted, though your knees buckled slightly under the weight of your own power.

Logan didn’t argue. Instead, he scooped you up with a gentleness that belied his strength, cradling you against his chest. The anomaly wavered, then shattered, the soldiers collapsing as time resumed. But the damage was done.

As the world around you stabilized, you felt a strange, disorienting pull in your mind—like something had snapped and splintered all at once.

Logan froze mid-step, a strangled noise escaping his throat. His grip on you tightened as his body went rigid, his breathing shallow and erratic.

“Logan?” you murmured, your voice weak. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His eyes darted wildly as memories surged through his mind—memories that didn’t belong to the man he’d been moments ago.

A wedding. Your smile, brighter than the sun, as you held his hands. The weight of the gold ring he’d finally placed on your finger after lifetimes of waiting.

Laughter. Laura’s tiny hands clutching his shirt as he carried her on his shoulders, her giggles echoing through the halls of the mansion. Gabby’s wide grin as she showed him a picture she’d drawn of the four of you—her family.

Peace. The quiet nights on the porch, your head resting on his shoulder as the stars twinkled overhead.

Love.

A life.

A family.

Logan stumbled, dropping to his knees as the memories overwhelmed him. They were vivid and unrelenting, a rush of emotion and experience that left him gasping for air.

Your hands trembled as you knelt beside Logan, panic bubbling in your chest. His body shook, his breaths coming in sharp, shallow gasps. You reached out, gripping his shoulders. “Logan! Please—what’s wrong? Talk to me!”

He didn’t respond. His eyes were wide and unfocused, darting as though he was watching something invisible and overwhelming. His claws had retracted, his hands pressed flat to the ground like he was trying to anchor himself.

“Logan…” Your voice cracked, tears blurring your vision. “I’m sorry—I don’t know what I did—please, just say something.”

His breath hitched sharply, and he finally looked at you, though his gaze was distant, almost haunted. “I… I can’t—” His voice was rough, fractured, as though he was choking on the words. “It’s… I remember.”

You froze. The blood roaring in your ears was nearly deafening. “What do you mean? Remember what?”

Logan shook his head as if trying to clear it, but his face was pale, his features twisted with a mix of disbelief and something raw—grief? Love? Fear? You couldn’t tell.

“It’s us.” His hands reached for you instinctively, his calloused palms cupping your face. “I see you. I see…” His words faltered, and his gaze flickered like he was staring into a memory you couldn’t reach. “The wedding. Laura. Gabby. God, darlin’, I see all of it. I feel it.”

Your heart clenched, your breath catching in your throat. “You remember this life?” you whispered, your hands resting on his wrists.

Logan’s eyes, normally so sharp and guarded, now brimmed with something far more vulnerable—tears threatening to spill as his gaze bore into yours. “Yeah,” he rasped, his voice rough, choked. “Not just bits and pieces… all of it.”

Tears continued to blur your vision as you searched his face, struggling to process his words. His hands stayed on your face, steady even though they were trembling slightly, and his eyes darted over yours like he was trying to memorize every detail, afraid you might vanish if he looked away for even a second.

“Logan…” Your voice wavered, the weight of the moment pressing down on your chest. “You… remember everything?”

He nodded, the movement jerky, uncoordinated. “Yeah. Every damn thing,” he rasped, his voice thick with emotion. “I remember… us. Our life. Laura. Gabby. The day I put this ring on your finger.” His thumb brushed against the gold band on your left hand, his expression flickering between awe and devastation. “I remember it all, darlin’. And it’s like I’ve been livin’ two lives at once.”

Your heart twisted, torn between relief and worry. Relief that he was remembering the life you’d built together—your family, your home—but worry because you knew what this meant for him. Logan wasn’t just remembering. He was reconciling two lifetimes, one full of loss and pain, and one where he’d finally found peace.

You cupped his face now, your hands trembling against his rough, stubbled cheeks. “Logan,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the distant sounds of the fight still raging in the facility. “You’re here. You’re with me. With us. And that’s all that matters.”

His eyes stayed locked on yours, and you could see the storm of emotions swirling behind them—grief, guilt, love, hope. “It’s real,” he said, almost like he needed to hear it to believe it. “This… all of it… it’s real. I didn’t lose you this time.”

“No,” you murmured, tears spilling freely now. “You didn’t lose me. You’ve got me, Logan. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

His hands tightened ever so slightly on your face, his forehead lowering until it rested gently against yours. His breath hitched, and you felt the faintest tremor run through him. “I lost you six times, sweetheart. Six times. I held you in my arms while you—” His voice broke, and he sucked in a sharp breath like he was trying to keep himself together. “I can’t… I can’t lose you again. I won’t.”

“You won’t,” you said firmly, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks. “You won’t, Logan. This is our life. Our family. And you’re not gonna lose me. Not now, not ever.”

For a long moment, the two of you just stayed like that, kneeling on the cold floor in the middle of a war zone, holding on to each other like the rest of the world had ceased to exist.

Finally, Logan spoke again, his voice quieter now, though no less weighted. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his tone raw. “I remember us, but I don’t… I don’t feel like the man you married. I don’t feel like Laura and Gabby’s dad.”

Your heart ached at his words, but you held his gaze, your own resolve strengthening. “You are the man I married,” you said softly but firmly. “You’re the same Logan who’s been by my side for twenty years, who’s been an amazing father to Laura and Gabby, who’s built this life with me. I know it doesn’t feel that way right now, but it will. You’ll remember not just with your head, but with your heart, too. I promise.”

He closed his eyes briefly, exhaling shakily before nodding. “I hope you’re right, darlin’,” he murmured. “Because I don’t wanna screw this up.”

“You won’t,” you assured him. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Another explosion sounded in the distance, and Logan’s head whipped around, his instincts kicking in. “We gotta move,” he said gruffly, helping you to your feet. “You okay to walk?”

“I’m fine,” you said, though your legs wobbled slightly as the adrenaline began to wear off. Logan steadied you with a hand on your waist, his touch firm but careful.

“Let’s find the others,” he said, his voice steadying as he slipped back into mission mode. But before you could take a step, he stopped, turning back to you. His hand cupped your cheek again, his eyes soft but serious. “I love you,” he said, the words rough but filled with conviction. “I just… I needed to say it.”

Your breath caught, but you smiled, leaning into his touch. “I love you, too,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion. “Always.”

He nodded once, then released you, his claws sliding out with a familiar snikt. “Stay close,” he said, his tone low and protective as he led the way down the corridor. And though the chaos of the mission loomed ahead, you felt a flicker of hope—because no matter what, you were facing it together.

---

Once back at the mansion, the first things you saw were Laura and Gabby standing by Rogue, waiting for the others to clear the jet before you and Logan stepped off.

Gabby was the first to make a move, walking at a brisk pace until Logan finished climbing down the stairs and kneeled down, “c’mere princess.”

She let out a happy squeal and ran the rest of the way, launching herself into Logan’s arms. “You haven’t called me that in ages!”

Laura walked over to the three of you, giving you a short hug from the side, “weeks, Gabby, weeks.”

Gabby removed herself from Logan’s chest, turning to face her sister, “that’s ages Laura!”

Laura crossed her arms, her eyebrow arched in exaggerated disbelief. “It’s weeks, Gabby. Don’t be so dramatic.”

Logan chuckled, low and gravelly, still kneeling on the hangar floor. His hands rested lightly on Gabby’s shoulders as she spun back around to look at him, her big, expressive eyes narrowing in mock irritation.

“Well, she’s right about one thing,” Logan said, ruffling Gabby’s hair. “I haven’t been callin’ you ‘princess’ like I should.”

Gabby beamed, throwing her arms around his neck again. “It’s okay, Daddy. I forgive you!”

Behind them, you stood near the ramp, watching the scene with a mix of relief and warmth. Logan caught your eye over Gabby’s shoulder, his gaze softening as it locked on yours. For a moment, it was like the rest of the world disappeared.

Laura’s voice broke the spell. “You’re forgiven this time,” she said with a teasing smirk as she stepped closer. “But Gabby’s gonna milk it for at least a week. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Logan straightened, a hand resting on Gabby’s back as he looked at Laura with that gruff, fatherly affection he’d perfected. “Yeah, well, I reckon I can handle that.”

Gabby grinned triumphantly, glancing between her sister and her dad. “See? Told you I’m his favorite.”

Logan groaned, shaking his head as he rose to his feet, lifting Gabby effortlessly in his arms. “Don’t start that, kiddo. I got room for both of you troublemakers.”

Gabby giggled, but Laura rolled her eyes. “Nice save, Dad.”

You chuckled softly, stepping forward now that the moment felt a little less overwhelming. “Alright, you two,” you said, your voice warm but firm. “Let’s get inside. Everyone’s probably waiting, and your dad looks like he could use a break.”

Logan gave you a small, appreciative smile, one that lingered longer than usual, like he was drinking in every detail of you standing there. He shifted Gabby to his hip and reached out with his free hand, his calloused fingers brushing yours briefly as you both turned toward the mansion.

The walk back was filled with Gabby’s chatter, Laura’s sarcastic commentary, and Logan’s occasional grunt of amusement. But as the four of you crossed the threshold into the warmth of the mansion, you could feel the shift in Logan—a quiet resolve mixed with the raw emotion still simmering beneath the surface.

Once the girls were out of earshot, you tugged gently on Logan’s sleeve, pulling him aside into the quieter hallway. His brows furrowed slightly, but he let you guide him, his hand instinctively finding its way to your waist.

“Logan,” you started softly, looking up at him as the distant echoes of the mansion’s activity faded. “Are you okay?”

Logan’s jaw tensed, his eyes searching yours as though weighing his answer. The soft glow of the mansion’s lights illuminated his face, highlighting the exhaustion and turmoil etched into his features. He let out a low sigh, the sound heavy with emotion, before his hand slid from your waist to cradle the side of your face.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice rough but honest. “It’s like... I’ve been livin’ someone else’s life for weeks. Like it was mine but not mine, ya know? And now…” He paused, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek, his brow furrowing. “Now it’s all there. Every moment. Every damn thing. I remember our girls, our wedding, us. And it’s... it’s real. But it feels like it shouldn’t be. Like it’s a dream I’m gonna wake up from any second.”

Your heart clenched at the raw vulnerability in his voice. You reached up, covering his hand with yours, grounding him. “It’s not a dream, Logan. This is real. We’re real. Laura and Gabby are real. You’re their dad, my husband, and the man who’s been by my side through everythin’. You’ve got us, and we’ve got you.”

His eyes softened, but there was still a shadow of doubt lingering in them. “Feels like I’ve been walkin’ around with a piece missin’, and now it’s slammed back into place all at once. It’s almost too much.”

You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest. His heart thundered beneath your ear, fast and unsteady, but his arms came around you like they always had, holding you tightly. “You don’t have to figure it all out tonight,” you murmured. “We’ll take it one step at a time. Together.”

Logan buried his face in your hair, his breath hitching as he clung to you. “I missed this,” he said, so quietly you almost didn’t catch it. “Even when I didn’t know what I was missin’, I missed this.”

You smiled against his chest, your tears dampening the fabric of his shirt. “You’re home now,” you whispered. “That’s what matters.”

He nodded against you, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. “You’re somethin’ else, ya know that?” he said, his lips twitching into a faint, almost self-conscious smile. “Don’t deserve you.”

“You’re wrong,” you said firmly, your hand coming up to rest against his cheek. “We deserve each other. And we deserve this life we’ve built. It hasn’t been perfect, Logan, but it’s ours. And it’s worth every fight.”

Logan’s hand slid to the small of your back, his thumb tracing lazy circles there. His gaze held yours for a long moment before he dipped his head, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Thanks, darlin’,” he murmured. “For not givin’ up on me.”

“Never,” you said softly, a smile tugging at your lips. “Now, let’s get back to the girls. They’ll probably think we’re plotting something if we’re gone too long.”

Logan huffed a quiet laugh, the sound easing some of the tension in his expression. “Yeah, don’t need Gabby comin’ up with some wild theory about why we’re takin’ our time.”

You chuckled, threading your fingers through his as you began walking back toward the living area. “She’d have us starring in some kind of superhero soap opera.”

“Kid’s got a hell of an imagination,” Logan muttered, though there was unmistakable fondness in his tone.

As the two of you reached the living room, Laura and Gabby looked up from the couch where they were sprawled out with popcorn and a movie on the screen. Gabby’s face lit up when she saw you, and she patted the spot next to her enthusiastically. “C’mon, Daddy! We saved you a seat!”

Logan glanced at you, his lips quirking in a small, grateful smile. “Think I better take her up on that,” he murmured.

“You better,” you teased, giving him a nudge. “I’ll grab some drinks and join you.”

He squeezed your hand once before letting go, striding over to settle between his daughters. Gabby immediately curled up against him, and Laura leaned over to steal a piece of his popcorn, earning a mock growl from him.

As you watched the three of them together, laughter bubbling up from the couch, you felt a deep sense of peace settle over you. Logan might still be navigating the storm in his mind, but he was here. And with time, you knew he’d come to fully embrace the life he’d found again.

and it's a happy ever after!!

this was meant to be much shorter. actually, i originally wasn't going to include logan getting his memories back and just make that into a bonus chapter but i couldn't stand it. if it's gonna be a happy ever after i had to go all the way.

and i have i have an idea of how they found laura that does not involve the logan movie. cause, no, no, no, they are getting their happy ending.

with that in mind, again, if anyone is interested in reading about how reader and logan got married, found laura, had gabby, let me know! or, if you have any ideas of stories you want me to tell with reader and logan don't be afraid to ask! (i might have already started writing for the alternate timeline...)

[shrimpybbq]

thinking of how maybe high school gf probably pushed herself too hard after emmy was born because she kind of reverted back to when charlie was a baby and how she had no help and also taking care of rafe on her own. and rafe obviously doesn’t like that

this is similar to the last ask i answered, but she definitely did - especially as rafe was so busy with work and trying to rebuild the reputation of cameron development. she tried to do everything by herself, always doing her best to manage a bubbly and adventurous charlie with a brand new baby that couldn’t be left alone. she was constantly telling rafe,

“No it’s ok, you need to rest.”

“You have a big meeting tomorrow with the investors, don’t worry about this. I can take care of it.”

rafe was also off the drugs by that time, but when she noticed him start to drink more and more she began to do her best to help him. it didn’t really work, but he did promise her he would set a limit on his drinking. rafe didn’t realise how stressed and overwhelmed she was until he came home from a meeting one day, only to see her sobbing on the bed as she cradled emmy in her arms, the small baby crying non-stop.

“Hey, hey - baby! What’s going on? Are you ok?” he asked, watching her almost not even register his words.

“She won’t stop crying, Rafe! I’ve fed her, and I’ve changed her, and I sang to her and wore her and she just won’t stop and Charlie wants to play in the garden and I need to get your suit ready for tomorrow and the-“

rafe froze as he watched his wife cry, finally realising just how much she had been doing, and that maybe - despite her claims, she wasn’t coping. he felt awful and couldn’t believe he had been too blind to notice her struggling.

“Hey, give her to me, ok? Go take a nice bath, with all those salts and fragrances you like. I’m gonna look after the kids and get everything done,” rafe had commanded.

“No, but-”

“No, baby. You need to relax. You deserve it,” he continued, grabbing emmy from her arms as she looked up at him pitifully, “and ‘m sorry. I should’ve seen that you weren’t ok. I’m gonna do better and be here more often, m’kay? I’m not gonna be like my dad.”

rafe had practically dragged her into the bathroom and closed the door before walking down to the kitchen with his daughter. she had stopped crying after a few moments in her father’s arms (go figure),

“Hey, you’re not being very nice to your mother, you know that?”

rafe had carried out all the tasks he knew were on her list for the evening and even ordered take out for dinner that night, not wanting her to do any more work. he grinned as she wandered down the stairs after an hour, noticing her calmer demeanour,

“Feeling better, baby?”

she gave him a low hum in agreement and he had smiled once more, reaching down to kiss her. his hands ran over her hair, smoothing down the wet strands and admiring his wife.

“I meant what I said. You’re not doing this alone, and if I ever make you feel that way again, tell me. I gotta take care of you - you’re my wife. We’re partners in this shit.”

rafe and high school gf shared a smile and another kiss before turning to the gurgling baby girl in her high chair, her chubby cheeks now smushed full of food. she was the perfect mix of the two of them, and as the couple admired their baby girl, they shared a warm embrace.

[tbyfandoms]

I Smell Snow | Joe Burrow x Reader

Pairing: joe burrow x f!reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: the first cincinnati snowfall of the season leads to a night full of magic and love

Warnings: literally a single swear word if you can even call it that

Masterlist/Request Form | Ask/Tell/Request

A/N: my first ever published joe fic! this is literally such a self indulgent fic, I won’t lie. it spawned after I was standing outside and it started snowing and then the next day I watched ‘love actually’. plus couple that with my love for ‘gilmore girls’ quotes and needless to say, this is a big ball of fluff. even if it’s not the best fic, I love it, and I hope you all do as well :) <3

When you step outside into the crisp air, a smile breaks out across your face. The sky is a soft grey, a color you'd otherwise dread if not for the time of year, and the sight alone causes excitement to stir within you.

You've been waiting for this since the moment the temperatures started dropping. The weather is of course unpredictable and you can never truly trust what the weatherman says on the news, but you're sure of it this time. You'd swear up and down you could feel it coming.

It's going to snow.

The click of the handle turning on the patio door tears your eyes away from the sky, and instead of soft grey, your eyes are now met with a soft blue color. The color of your boyfriend's eyes. A color you could get lost in if given the opportunity.

"Hey," you say softly as Joe steps outside and tries to piece together in his head what it is that has your undivided attention out here. He got the pool covered months ago and all the furniture is tucked away into different corners of the patio. He doesn't see any deer or other animals out in the yard either. There's nothing of interest and yet Joe understands that knowing you, it's gotta be something, and the thought alone has him amused.

"Hey, baby. Whatcha doin' out here?" You shrug your shoulders a bit, a tinge of pink coating your cheeks due to something else entirely than the cold.

"I smell snow," you whisper. A phrase you've come to love and use religiously when it is that time of year. You know it might seem stupid to some people, but you genuinely feel like you can always tell when it's going to snow. Weather reporting it or not. It's s silly thing between you and your friends, but somehow you're never wrong.

When you first started dating Joe it was during the spring. The snow had long since melted and the chill in the air was long gone. You've mentioned in passing before your little inside joke, but never once have you said it to him before. Saying it out loud to him has you feeling a little silly, but the look on his face quickly extinguishes it.

Joe's eyes are crinkled at the corners, his smile taking up half his face, and his perfect white teeth are on full display as a deep chuckle escapes him.

"Do you now?" The Bengals quarterback teases as he takes a few more steps towards you. As he does so, you bask in the sight of him. Your boyfriend looks so cute and cosy in his hoodie, sweatpants, and beanie. All Bengals branded, of course. Joe Burrow is nothing if not proud of his city and his team. You feel the same about him and all he's accomplished.

"I do, Burrow. And the minute that first snowflake hits the ground, I'll be telling you I told you so." You nod your head in finality before lightly giggling and turning your head back up to the sky.

Joe gazes fondly at you as he takes in every inch of your body. There you are, this beautiful girl standing before him, not having a care in the world besides knowing whether or not it's going to snow. He thinks you're ridiculous in the most loving way possible, and that's when it hits him. That's what this is; love.

The two of you have only been dating for just under a year, but the Cincinnati resident has never been more sure about anything else in his life (besides maybe football) than he is about how he feels for you. About how seriously he cares for you and wants you in his life for years to come.

Joe Burrow is completely and utterly in love with you.

A sharp intake of breath leaves the man's lips, but it's mixed in with yours as you gasp up at the sky and watch as a single snowflake drifts slowly towards your face. At first it's just one and then suddenly it's dozens of little flakes flurrying around you.

A bemused laugh shakes your body and you nearly squeal at the sight. There's always been something so magical about snow to you. You don't know whether it's the nostalgic child-like wonder and excitement of it all or if it's something else entirely, but you've never quite been able to shake it. You're not sure you'd ever want to, really.

"Joe," you start, awe completely evident in your tone as you lightly flit your eyes to your boyfriend and then back to the sky. "Look at this! It's so pretty, I can't believe I was—"

"I love you." The blonde's confession slices through the air and suddenly it feels like nothing else matters in this moment, not even the snow you were so desperate to see because—

"What?" You question, wondering if you just imagined what Joe had said. Surely you misheard him, but part of you hopes to God you didn't.

"I love the way you care so deeply for everyone. I love the way you support me and my career completely and yet still keep that fierce independence and confidence in yourself and your own career. I love that you don't let anyone or anything get in the way of your dreams, but yet you still stay kind through it all. I love the way you've accepted me and all my stubbornness no matter how irritating it may be at times. I love how smart, funny, beautiful, and a million other adjectives I could continue to list, you are." A laugh slips past your lips and it's in this moment you realize tears have begun to trickle down your cheeks, mingling with the soft snowflakes that have landed there. "But most importantly, I love you, Y/N. Completely and unconditionally, I am in love with you. And I know we haven't been together for that long, but I'm hoping that just maybe you feel the same."

Wasting no time, you practically jump the few feet it takes you to reach your boyfriend and immediately wrap your arms around his neck, his warmth engulfing you instantly as he holds onto you.

"I love you too, Joey," you smile as you pull back and lock eyes with those pale blues from earlier. As the sky begins to darken, you revel in the way his eyes shine as they reflect the patio lights. You'd debate with anyone that Joe's eyes rival the stars themselves. He'd definitely say the same about yours.

A beat passes, the two of you so wrapped in each other's presence and revelations that most definitely have now altered the courses of your lives. The thought of falling so deeply in love with someone the way you have with Joe both terrifies and excites you, and all you know for sure is that you're in this for as long as he'll have you. Something tells you though that that's going to be a very long time, and you wouldn't want it any other way.

Joe reaches up and cups your cheek in his palm, his thumb swiping over your cheekbone and brushing away a few snowflakes that have settled there. It doesn't take long for him to lean in. Dying to connect his lips with yours and craving the way you taste.

His lips mold perfectly with yours, the way they have for all these months and the way you're sure they will for months to come. As the first Cincinnati snow of the season continues to fall, you smile into Joe's mouth as you feel the flakes begin to melt between you. The warmth of your lips fighting off any of the cold trying to reach you.

You're sure you'll feel the effects of ice cold water seeping into your skin later, but right now all you can focus on is the man before you and how happy you are to have found him.

Joe pulls back and you nearly giggle at the sight of him. The tip of his nose and his cheeks are a bright pink, and you're sure if he wasn't wearing his hat that his ears would appear the same. Even though he looks like the happiest man alive right now, you can tell he's cold. Although you can admire the snow for how it looks and how it makes you feel inside, it doesn't always make you feel the greatest on the outside, especially after a long period of time.

You decide now is a good a time as any to head back inside. You're confident the first fall of snow lived up to all the hype and then some.

"C'mon, let's go inside and warm up. I think I've had enough of the snow...for now," you chuckle.

"Thank God," Joe breathes out before bringing his hands up and rubbing them together, trying to create some warmth between them. "I know you love this stuff, but I won't lie, I'm freezing my ass off."

The two of you laugh as Joe leads you back inside through the patio door. The familiar click of the door handle echoes behind you and you hum in satisfaction as the cold gets shut out and the warmth of Joe's house welcomes you with open arms.

"Hey, freezing or not, you have to admit the snow is pretty magical." Joe watches as you begin to take off your jacket, a bit of snow that clung to you falling to the ground. Some of it is still in your hair, slowly melting away, but the sight of it makes his heart swell. The snow glistens, almost sparkles, and all it does is add to your beauty in his eyes. You're so blissfully unaware of it all too, and it only makes Joe fall for you that much more.

"I think I'm gonna have to agree with you on that one, sweetheart," he replies, genuinely believing it.

Magic snow powers or not, Joe adored seeing you in awe like that tonight. He can't wait for many more instances like it, and who knows? Maybe during next year's first snowfall, he might be on one knee, confessing his love for you in a different way.

[jhdyuiee]

ocean-side

·˚ ༘ pairing: dad! jaehyun x mom!reader

·˚ ༘ warnings/tags: fluff, smut!, oral(f receiving), breeding kink (?), kissing/making out, explicit content!, dirty talk, cursing

·˚ ༘ w.c: 4.2k

·˚ ༘ a.n: hi! it’s been a while, hasn’t it? well i apologize for the abrupt break, november was just a lot, both good and bad, but it’s safe to say i’m back! thank u for waiting, i’m truly sorry having been gone for so long :/ . i promise to be back for the remaining days of the year as i’ve got a lot in store, hehe. thank u for ur continued love and support, i’m just so glad to finally be back doing what i love! i love you all & enjoy this one as it was voted by many! <3

“Here’s a good spot,” your husband says, dropping the large bag that slung on his shoulder, onto the sand as he begins looking for the blanket you made sure to pack.

You all the while hold your sleeping 7-month old daughter, Sienna, in your arms. Your husband, Jaehyun gets a hold of the blanket and gets Yejun, your 5-year old son to help him set it up. Jaehyun then proceeds to set up the umbrella, placing it at a perfect angle. Once he finished, you sat down along with your daughter.

“Can I go into the water now!?” Yejun asks excitedly. He’s been dying to get to the beach, into the water. It was a spontaneous trip, thought of by Jaehyun, but you all nonetheless packed your bags to go. There was honestly no better day to go, today the weather was at a perfect temperature.

“Put some sunscreen on first love,” you said to your son as you looked for the sunscreen inside the bag. “Ask your daddy to help you,” you say, giving Jaehyun the sunscreen.

Yejun walks to his dad, allowing him to put sunscreen all over him. And when he finishes he asks again, “Can I go into the water now!?”

This time however Jaehyun answers in your stead, “wait a little more bud, I gotta put some on too since someone’s gotta go with you.”

Yejun pouts, the boy just too impatient. Once Jaehyun finishes he gets up, adjusting the black swimming trunks he had on. He grabs ahold of his son before turning to you and his daughter.

“We’ll be back,” he announces before crouching down to peck both you and his daughter.

“Be safe!” you shout out as he leaves with Yejun in hand.

You watch as they step into the ocean side, going only up to Yejun’s chest height. You take your eyes off them, turning them Sienna who was still in your arms. Surprisingly she was still soundly asleep, however strangely enough just then she started furrowing her brows and trying to open her eyes.

“Oh my goodness,” you say lovingly. She was just so adorable, a perfect blend of you and Jaehyun. While on the other hand, Yejun took after his father both looks and personality.

You peck her cheek, setting her to sit on your lap so that she could also look at her father and dad as they played in the water. They were having the time of their lives by the looks of it, splashing water on each other as Yejun tried swimming away, only for Jaehyun to catch him.

It was then that Sienna started blabbering, sticking her arms out and making grabby hands. You could tell what she wanted, to go join her father and brother.

“We’ll go in a bit baby, let mommy take some pictures first before I forget,” you tell her as you take her in your arms again. Sienna is turned the other way, facing you. You place her down, only for her to start crawling before you capture her and sit her back down. It took a couple more tries since she was so curious but you ultimately managed to snap some pictures of her in her cute little beach outfit.

“Now, let me put some sunscreen on us before we go!” you say tenderly as you grab the sunscreen Jaehyun left on the empty spot where he’d sat.

You make sure your baby is well protected, you too as well, before you head out of the little spot where your family resided. As you head to them, Yejun notices first calling out: “Mommy!”

You smile lovingly at your son whose energy was still at its max. When you arrived, you stood in between the sand and where the waves died. Your husband notices, walking over to you as he pushes the hairs out of his face.

“What’s wrong love?” he asks.

“Nothing, Sienna just seemed to have wanted to join you two,” you informed him.

“Alright, come in,” he says, reaching his hand for you but you don’t take it.

“I- I don’t feel like going in,” you tell him.

“Why, love?”

“I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” you lied.

You had one underneath, one that you’ve never worn before. It was quite small on you though, your post-pregnancy body filling it out. Yeah, you had other swimsuits but those fit even worse since they were quite old. You were left with no other option but this one.

In truth, you were planning to go into the waters with it on but seeing the people near the beach made you rather scared and insecure to take off the long, white sundress on top of it.

“Really?” Jaehyun asks, growing a bit skeptical since you were always on top of things.

“Yeah… must’ve slipped my mind while I was focused on getting Sienna ready,” you said, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

“Is that so, I guess you can come in next time,” he says, giving you a dimpled smile as he reaches his arms out so you could hand him Sienna.

“Be extra careful Jae, don’t play too rough with Sienna in there,” you tell your husband, your mother instincts kicking in.

“Don’t worry love, she’s safe with me,” he says before returning back to the ocean where Yejun waited. He seemed to have said something, a wide dimpled smile on his face when he saw his baby sister in the water as well.

You return back to your family’s little spot and sit down. You watched them as they played in the water, Jaehyun carefully and securely carrying his daughter as she hit her hand against the water, splashing her brother. You smile fondly at the scene, feeling as though this was some sweet dream you never want to part from.

As you take your eyes off your family, you reach inside the big bag again, taking out a book you brought along. You read as your family played, and before you knew it the sun was about to set.

You close your book, taking out the towels as you walk back towards them. “Yejun! Jaehyun! Time to start packing up,” you shout at them. Yejun swims his way to you while Jaehyun carries Sienna back.

“Mommy!” Yejun shouts, jumping up and down in front of you. “Yes, my love?” you ask your overly excited 5-year old. “Today was the best day ever!” he continues to say as you dry him off.

“I’m glad you had fun,” you smiled, wrapping him in the towel. When your husband arrived with your baby she made grabby hands so you could take her. You hand your husband his towel and he hands your Sienna. You take the last towel you had and begin drying Sienna off as you all walk back to where your belongings were.

“Want me to take Sienna with me to wash off at the shower heads?” Jaehyun asks. “Yeah, that'd be great, to hold off until we get home.”

Your husband departs with the kids and a small backpack containing a pair of clean clothes for them that you managed to quickly put together. While they were gone you started packing everything up, putting things back into the big bag and folding back up the umbrella and blanket. You took stuff one-by-one back to the car, and by the time you finished they’d also as well.

“Everything packed?” Jaehyun asks, handing you Sienna.

You nod, walking over to where her carseat was while he opened and closed the door for Yejun so he could get into his.

“You didn’t have to do all that love,” Jaehyun says as he walks over to your side while you strapped your daughter in. He places his hands on your waist and pecks your temple.

“I’m hungry,” Yejun interrupts, causing you two to chuckle.

“We'll stop for food before going home, ok Yejun?” Jaehyun says, stepping away from you.

Yejun nods his head happily, and you finish strapping your baby in. Then you and Jaehyun go into your respective seats before driving off for some food.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

The front door unlocks, Jaehyun opens it and steps aside to let you and a sleeping Sienna go in. the lights turn on, illuminating your home. You watch as Jaehyun steps in, he too with a sleeping child, Yejun.

“Wake him up so he could clean up with you while I take care of Sienna,” you whispered. Jaehyun nods, trying his best to gently wake up his son who just grumbles, fisting Jaehnyun’s shirt with his small hand.

You on the other hand start heading upstairs to the bathroom in your bedroom as Jaehyun would be using the one connecting Yejun and Sienna room.

You set your baby on the bed while you get everything ready so you could clean her up. It was then when you decided why not go in with her, you’ve had a long day too and a nice bath would solve it.

You took your time, finding the moment spent with your daughter peaceful. And so when you finally finished and dried you two off, putting on her cute bunny pajamas, she fell asleep once more. She must be worn out, you thought.

You carry her back to her room, placing her gently on her crib so she doesn’t wake up. Gently walking, you shut her door softly and walk back to your bedroom. When you arrive you notice Jaehyun sitting on the edge of the bed.

He looks up when he sees you walking in. You walk towards him, stopping in between his legs. He engulfs you in a hug, his head in your chest and your chin resting on the top of his head. It was nothing sexual, it was warm and peaceful.

“I love you,” Jaehyun says, resting his chin on your chest as he tries looking up at you.

“I love you more,” you reply, smiling as you lean down to capture his lips.

The kiss didn’t escalate anywhere further, which was a little shocking since you two could never keep your hands off one another. However today in truth was tiring and long, but a beautiful memory.

And so the night ended in bed, his arms around your waist to bring you close to him. It was warm, a warmth that lulled you to sleep.

Bonus!

You’re folding laundry, it’s an oddly peaceful weekend. Probably considering the fact that your children were with their grandparents for the weekend, off to the Orchards. And Jaehyun was somewhere within the house since today was his day off.

“Hey, love do you kno-” Jaehyun says, walking into the bedroom but something catches his eyes and leaves him speechless.

You widened your eyes as the item you were folding: a bikini top. The very same one you wore that day at the beach. Fuck, you internally curse yourself.

“W- When did you wear that?” he questions.

You gnaw at your bottom lip, alternating between lying to him or telling him the truth.

“T- The day we went to the beach,” you said, your words growing quiet.

He strides towards you, taking it out of your hands and scanning his eyes to find the bottoms. When he found them he took them. You didn’t know why he was doing, much less what was going through his mind.

“Put them on,” he says, handing them over to you.

You eye Jaehyun, focusing on the change in his eyes. They were growing hot. You opened your mouth to talk but nothing came out. Instead you started moving towards the bathroom, not thinking twice before slipping on the bikini. You didn’t look at yourself, fearing you would back out.

As you open the door you see Jaehyun sat on the bed, eyes trained on you. You walk towards him with your arms across your breasts in an attempt to try covering yourself up.

However Jaehyun reaches his arms out to you when you're close enough, taking your hands into his, allowing him to see you clearly now. You could feel your face heat up as his eyes drank you up.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t tell me you were wearing something underneath,” he says, pausing before continuing, “because I would’ve not been able to control myself, with or without the kids.”

You didn’t respond, feeling your mouth unable to open. His hands, his fingers subtly touch your thighs which caused you to slightly flinch. “You’re so cute,” Jaehyun comments as he gets up from where he sat. 

He towers over you, hands now on your neck and jaw to tilt you up. Jaehyun leans down slightly so he’s able to capture your lips. It’s a desire-full kiss unlike the sweet one you two shared a couple days ago. 

You moaned into the kiss when you felt his tongue begin to play with yours. You could feel when his hand grasped the back of your neck, pulling you in deeper into his mouth. The kiss grew intenser with every passing second, and your mind became hazier too. You could only focus on him and his subtle touches around your body, that you never noticed when he got you on the bed.

“Since the kids are gone, you can be as loud as you want love,” Jaehyun whispers when his lips part from yours.

Your breathing was heavy and you tried regaining it back, however Jaehyun wasn’t done yet. His lips went back onto yours for a couple of minutes longer, before they traveled to your cheek and down to kiss along your jaw. From there they went further down onto your neck where he sucked on the exposed flesh, giving you bites occasionally.

“J- Jaehyun!?” you moaned out loud when you feel his teeth nip your neck before licking that spot right back up.

“What is it, my love?” Jaehyun mutters against your skin as he makes his way to your chest area.

He kisses the valley of your breasts, eyeing you from in between them. You groaned, feeling yourself grow wet from the look he had on his face.

“P- Please,” you pleaded.

“Please, what?” he responded innocently as if he had no clue what you were talking about.

“T- Touch me down there,” you boldly responded, not wanting to beat around the bush.

Jaehyun just smirks before tearing his eyes off you. “The night is still young, love and plus there are no kids around to interrupt us. Let me take care of you properly tonight,” he says as he brings his head above one of your tits.

You don’t push it further, thinking that he had a point. You two should enjoy yourselves tonight.

You watched as Jaehyun leaned down to kiss your nipple over the fabric before bringing his tongue into the mix. He swirls his tongue around your bud, teasingly flickering it through the swimsuit material. He gnaws at it, causing you to groan. Then he kisses his way to the other one, doing the same to that one until your top was a sloppy, wet mess of his saliva.

Yet, Jaehyun still didn't remove your top and instead kissed his way further down. His mouth was leaving a blazing trail down your stomach. All thoughts of insecurity are erased from your head when you hear him groan against your stomach. The vibration elicited a pleasuring sensation.

“How about it, love… another one,” he mutters against your stomach where he couldn’t seem to pry his lips out of.

You lift your head slightly, his eyes already meeting yours. “Another child?” you question, sort of confused at his sudden words.

“Yeah, I mean look at Yejun and Sienna, they’re the cutest little children ever. They were made with so much love,” he says, emphasizing the last word.

“Are you sure that’s the only reason?” you question, feeling there is a hidden secret.

Jaheyun chuckles against your stomach, “you caught me,” he says. Moving his lips again, to your lower region. He grabs ahold of your legs, resting them on his shoulders. He gives a kiss to your inner thighs before diving into your cunt. He kisses your clit, followed along by your slit.

“You're just so hot pregnant, it’s complicated to put into words but I just feel so many emotions seeing you pregnant. I especially love it when you cling to me, wanting nothing more but for me to stick it inside you.”

Your eyes widen, face growing hot. There was no denying, you were all over him during both your pregnancies. When you had a husband like Jaehyun, who wouldn’t want to pounce on him.

“Cat got your tongue?” he mutters against your cunt, causing you to jerk against his face.

He sticks his tongue out, licking your cunt up through your bikini’s bottoms. He stayed a second or two longer on your clit before dragging his tongue back down. He alternates between pecking, sucking, and licking your cunt. You even unconsciously started grinding against his face, wanting more and more the further he continued.

“G- Give me another child, J-Jaehyun.”

The words left your mouth as you lost yourself in the pleasure. There’s no harm in another one, right? Oh god, just the thought of how he’ll handle you tonight caused you to get more turned on, grinding just a bit faster.

You faintly feel his lips smile before coming to kiss your clit. “I love you,” he says before using his teeth to pull apart the string holding your bottoms. Once untied and removed, he opens your legs again. He could see your wetness as it dripped out of your cunt.

Prying your lips open, he drinks up your wetness before inserting his tongue inside. You arched your back at the sensation, having been a long time since you felt it inside you. He rests it against your gummy walls, using the tip of his tongue to play alongside your walls. His breath, too, created a pleasuring sensation against your clit. You bucked your hips, wanting him deeper. 

He thrusts his tongue inside you before taking it out, the loss of sensation causing you to whine. He devours the remnants that seemed to escape, drinking you up and making sure not a single drop goes to waste.

He isn’t done yet though, he spits on your cunt. Then with one of his thumbs, he gathers it at your clit. He doesn’t take his thumb off, continuing to rub your clit as he takes two fingers from his other hand to tease your entrance. He puts them in half way only to pull them back out. Each time leaving you to groan in frustration.

He stops his games, finally thrusting his fingers inside you. You moan out his name as you feel him scissoring them inside you, opening your cunt right up for him. Then deciding it was time to switch things up, he replaced his thumb with his mouth. His mouth engulfing your clit.

You moved your hips, arching your back as you tried to fuck yourself with his fingers inside you. They reached you deep enough to cause you to start pulsing around them. You could feel your high easily coming to you. A high that has been long missed since you gave birth.

He bites on your clit, working his fingers even faster inside you. And as much as he’d like to continue teasing you, edging you, he couldn’t continue his desire any longer. He wanted his cock inside you, to feel you warmly wrap around him.

His pace doesn’t falter, and never does his tongue and mouth on your clit. It was only then when he pressed against a sweet spot and sucked on your clit that you came. You came hard, coating him in your juices. You're breathing, inhaling and exhaling, trying to gather yourself. It was only the beginning and you were already gone.

Jaheyun stayed on your cunt for a while longer, making sure to savor all of you. When there seemed to be none left he got back up on his feet. He’d been crouched down the entire time.

You hazily watched as he removed his sweats, tee, and boxers. His reddened, hardened cock came into full display. It leaked with his pre-cum.

He opens your legs up again, sliding his cock along your cunt so he could coat himself in your juices that continued to flow. While his hands grabbed your legs, holding them bent over your upper body. Your thighs squeezing your breast.

And once he had you in the desired position, he began entering you. His tip stretched you out before everything else did as well. You were being filled, his cock fitting snugly inside you cunt.

“Fuck,” he moans. “You always feel so good,” he continued saying in a sultry tone, leaning down to kiss you while he entered you.

Once it was all in he began thrusting into you while holding your legs against you. You feel him reaching your g-spot with every thrust, he’s deep within you. You feel his balls slapping against your ass with every rough thrust he gives you.

“S- So de- deep! I- I love it,” you moaned out loud, unable to contain your inner thoughts.

“Love what baby?” Jaehyun questions, bringing one leg down so he could angle you slightly. This new angle hits you into another world.

“Y- You! Your co- cock,” you replied rather seductively.

His chuckles erupt into the room, “aren’t you honest… I love it, my sweet wife deserves a reward for her honesty,” he says.

He leaves no room to talk as he slams into you, going at a godly pace. You clenched and pulsed around his cock, almost nearing your second high of the night. Jaehyun gets the message with the way you feel around his cock. So he lifts one leg up, draping it on his shoulder. Using his thumb to rub against your swollen clit, and not much time passing before you met your high.

You gushed around Jaehyun, coasting both his and his cock. He enjoyed the view, it only edged him on to meet his high, to cum in you, impregnant you.

“Take it all, fuck,” he groans as his cock twitches before painting your walls white.

He lets go of your legs, causing them to fall onto the bed. Tears slid down your face, your mouth blabbering random words. Jaehyun pulls out, not done just yet. He swiftly flips you over onto your stomach.

“Lift your ass up for me baby,” he instructs you whilst slapping both ass cheeks roughly, causing you to jerk from the sensation. You wasted to second thoughts, complying to what he asked of you. Using his hands on your hips to drag you a bit back.

You feel his cock as it tries gathering his cum so he could fuck it right back into you. Then in a matter of seconds, he’s in you again.

His fucks you with his hands on your hips, as he brings you back onto his cock. He keeps his eyes open, admiring your body, the body he couldn’t wait to see pregnant. God, just the thought of seeing you all swollen again riled him up all the more. He thrusts into you, grabbing your arms so he could pull them back fuck into you roughly.

Jaehyun lost control, his mind infiltrated with the purpose of getting you pregnant. “Cumming already baby? Got you feeling sensitive, didn’t I,” he says but your mind doesn’t process it. He continues as your cunt tightens around him, you were so close, so so so so close. 

Dropping your hands, he works his way down your back to untie your top so he could touch your tits. He gropes them, squeezing them and imagining them leaking with milk again. He pinched your nipple, groaning, just then you came.

You incoherently moaned into the comforter as you came. And just like before Jaehyun didn’t stop, only quicking his pace. Your tight cunt and thoughts of another child were more than enough to get Jaehyun to cum inside you again.

He groans, cumming inside but still maintaining his thrusts, though now slow. He needed to make sure his seeds were fucked well in deep, well in enough to get you pregnant.

Once he felt like his seed was fucked well inside, he parts from you. You laid face down, going in and out of consciousness. It’d been awhile since you two got this wild. And now that it seemed over, Jaehyun’s demeanor changed. The lusting man from before was replaced by a loving husband.

He kisses you softly, scoping you up in his embrace so he could carry you into the shower. He gently cleans you up, his heart melting at your sleeping state. “You’re too precious,” he whispers, followed by an “I love you.”

And so once you two were cleaned and dried off, he carried back onto the bed. He made sure to wrap you up well before hitting the sheets himself. His arm wraps around you, feeling his warmth on your back. The night went by peacefully and beautifully.

However the next morning, right before the kids were set to come, you two went at it again like a pair of rabbits again. Well, at least now it’s safe to say you're going to be welcoming baby number 3, one that was made with excessive love.

© jhdyuiee

2024. 12. 21

final a.n: you've reached the end, yay! a bit behind the scenes on this story, it was written and rewritten more than 5 times before this ended up being the final draft... not very fun (also it was originally named: where happiness lies). nonetheless, i hope u all can enjoy the finalized version, i'll be back veryyyyyyyyy soon ;) . good night (it's 3 am right now >_< )!

[muwapsturniolo]

Brutus 2 🦇 Chris sturniolo

"O-one hun-hundred and fif-fifteen times...." PT 1

NSFW AHEAD!!! mentions of murder, stabbing, assault (not detailed!!!), alcohol, blowjobs/face fucking, facials, cum eating, rough sex, biting, cream pies, choking, switch! Chris, Matt is a perv

The police still couldn’t figure out what happened on the final night of Halloween horror nights. It’s been a month and the gruesome murders were still unsolved and left everyone scratching their head. The police took the right measures, they taped off the crime scene for weeks on end, rewatched the CCTV footage, and questioned the crew and attendees.

But they came up empty-handed.

They couldn’t figure out who committed the crime or why they did it.

But she knew.

When she was questioned, the police showing up at her door with her discarded tweed purse, she lied and said she didn’t see anything. Claimed she barely remembers that night due to the alcohol she consumed on the premises.

She knew it was wrong to lie to authority, to take away the possibility of a grieving family to finally have peace and to know the killer is behind bars. She knew if anyone found out what she did they would call her insane and probably throw her six feet under a jail - She didn’t want that.

She was lying to cover her own ass and the nameless killers, and she’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Especially if it meant they would continue watching her.

It was only a couple of days after that night when she felt as if she was being watched. She had just gotten out of the shower and walked into her bedroom to put on her pajamas when she noticed the clothes were on the floor.

That isn't where she left them.

She vividly remembered placing them neatly at the foot of her bed, folded and ready to throw on. Now they were thrown onto the floor in a mess, and her panties were missing.

Fear should have settled into her body, but instead, she proceeded to get dressed right in front of the open window.

With that being said, she went about her life as if nothing happened, as if she wasn't being stalked by two psychopaths.

Her routine never changed.

Weeks had gone by, minutes, hours - two months to be exact. She had given up the little bit of hope that those two would make an appearance. Honestly, she had forgotten about them until a Christmas party had gone wrong.

Her friends had forced her to attend, shoving her into a powder blue satin dress and a pair of silver heels to match. soon, she was at the party, standing in the corner with a frown on her face.

She wasn't having a good time. Her friends had ditched her as soon as they made it to the club, this guy who was completely wasted wouldn't leave her alone, and she was hot.

Deciding that she was over it and needed some air, she found her friends and told them she was leaving. She walked away, ignoring their drunken protests, and pulled out her phone, attempting to order an Uber.

It seemed like she didn't have any luck, the cellular device having no type of signal. With a huff she begins walking down the street, not noticing the two people following her.

"This is so stupid! This is the last time I let them drag me to a dumb party an-" A small scream escapes her mouth as she's pushed into an alley, her phone falling from her hands. Her body collides with a trash can, preventing her from falling into the muddy puddles of water from the melted snow.

She's soon shoved against the wall, the streetlamps casting a shadow over her attacker's face. She didn't need lights to know who the person was, the rancid smell of alcohol was enough.

It was the same man from the party, he had followed her out.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?! Get off of me!" She shouts in annoyance, trying to push him off. It was odd, the way she was completely sober and had better coordination should have given her the strength to push him away. But to no avail, he proceeded to force himself upon her, slurring his words in the process.

Just as his hand goes up her dress, he's yanked away and tackled to the ground, her savior immediately throwing punches.

She stays frozen against the wall, too shocked to even register what's happening.

A glimmer of light snaps her back into reality.

She watches as her savior raises his arm, a knife in hand.

She watches as the blade is plunged into her attacker's chest, his screams slowly drowning out as he chokes on his own blood. She watches her savior continuously bring the knife down, not stopping until he's satisfied.

His actions begin to slow, his breathing heavy as he slumps back, staring at the lifeless body underneath him.

She takes a hesitant step forward, freezing when her savior turns to her.

She already knew, but the mask adorning his face confirmed it.

Her savior was the same man from that night, the same masked man who was ready to kill her before being scared away by his partner in crime.

His wild and deranged eyes soften as they connect with hers, his breathing calming down.

They say nothing, the only sound being heard is the flurries of snow rushing past them.

She slowly approaches, holding her hand out before speaking softly, "Come on, let's go."

He looks down at her hand before standing up, towering over her. He points towards her discarded phone, his silence-speaking words. She nods and rushes over to her phone, bending down to grab it. She huffs seeing the cracked screen, cursing out the dead man in her head. Just as she begins to wipe the phone off, she hears a loud bang.

She whips around and sees both the masked savior and the dead body gone, her brows slowly creasing.

Where did they go? How did they disappear so quick?

Her thoughts are interrupted by a hand landing on her shoulder. She jumps in surprise and turns around to see the masked savior in front of her.

"Jesus Christ, " she covers her chest as her heart begins to beat quickly. She swears she heard him snicker softly, but before she could question him, he wrapped his hand around her arm and dragged her down the street.

In reality, she knows she should be scared and questioning him, but she stays silent, allowing him to guide her to wherever they are going. They soon arrive in front of a beat-up pickup truck, parts of the car rusting as snow sits in the bed.

He opens the passenger door and looks at her expectantly. She peers inside the truck, noticing the mess inside. The cans of Pepsi discarded on the floor, the wrappers from candy, the smell of cigarettes, and most importantly,

The small bloodstains on the seats.

She looks back at him, noticing the soft look in his eyes.

"You want me to get in?"

He nods, still refusing to speak.

"Are you taking me home?"

He nods once more.

"Do you know where I live?"

He tenses, the grip he has on her arm tightening. It's almost as if he's scared, scared of being caught for stalking. Scared she's going to scream, run away, reject him.

She snickers softly seeing the fear in his eyes, it's a bit ironic.

She says nothing, simply climbing into the truck and buckling herself in.

"Come on, I miss my bed."

With that, he closes the door and climbs into the car himself, quickly starting the engine and driving off. She watches silently as he drives down familiar streets, having driven down them herself whenever she's on her way home.

The car ride was filled with silence, it wasn't tense if anything, it was calming, the both of them relaxed.

They soon arrive and he kills the engine, staring straight ahead out the window. She turns to him, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face behind the mask.

"Thank you for helping me," she says softly. He gives a curt nod, his hands still placed on the wheel.

"Did you want to come in?" His head whips to her, his eyes holding confusion. She smirks, enjoying the hesitancy and confusion in his eyes.

" Come on, you've been inside anyway. Might as well come in with an invitation this time."

He huffs behind the mask but follows her actions in unbuckling the seat belt and climbing out of the car.

They walk inside the house, the girl kicking off the annoying heels and throwing her keys in the bowl on the stand. She walks to her bedroom, smiling to herself as she hears his sluggish footsteps behind her. She throws herself onto her bed, flipping onto her back and propping herself up with her elbows.

She looks him up and down curiously, attempting to familiarize herself with him again.

"How come you wear a mask?"

Like always, he says nothing, refusing to even glance in her direction. She pushes herself off the bed and approaches him, cornering him. No words are spoken between the two as she presses herself against him, his breathing speeding up. With a slow and steady hand, she trails it up his arm, her fingers soon fanning out against his chest.

She goes to touch the edge of the mask, but she's stopped by his hand firmly grasping her wrist.

He looks scared.

Despite the tight grip he has on her, she continues with her actions. Her fingers grip the edge of the mask, slowly pulling it off of his face.

He quickly turns his head, his hair falling in front of his face. She gently turns him back towards her, their eyes connecting as her fingers dance across the scar on his cheek.

"O-one hun-hundred and fif-fifteen times...."

A shocked expression makes its way onto her face. He spoke, he finally spoke, and the first thing he decided to say was a number.

"W-what?" She questions in confusion, raking her brain for what the number could mean.

"Th-the man....I sta-stabbed him one hun-dred and f-fifteen times."

She's shocked by the confession.

She didn't know a lot about murder, only having seen it and heard about it in movies and TV shows, but she knew it took a lot of energy and anger to stab someone that amount of times - He did it for her.

It was sick, it was twisted, and yet, it attracted her.

"Let me thank you," she mumbles, her hand leaving his face and trailing down his chest, soon finding its place over his crotch. She begins to palm him, watching his breathing grow harsh, their eyes still connected. A small whimper leaves his mouth, and she breaks out into a grin - his moans were so pretty, so soft,

Submissive.

She sinks to her knees, both of her hands working at his belt, soon throwing it to the floor. Her mouth waters as she pulls his pants down, his cock slapping his abdomen.

It was pretty, just like him.

It was long and thick, and had a bright red tip that matched his chapped lips. There was a vein running up the side that she knew would feel euphoric when sliding against her spongy walls.

He bucks his hips softly as she wraps her hand around his shaft, pulling it towards her mouth. She opens her mouth and allows a wad of spit to trickle out, landing directly on his tip. Her thumb swipes over the tip as she moves the spit around, starting to jerk him off.

His moans and whimpers are kitten-like, despite his horrific and brutal demeanor, he was like putty in her hands.

She enjoys the way his body relaxes against the door, his head thrown back and his mouth open as he pants softly. She kitten licks his tip before taking him fully in her mouth. His rough and calloused hands fly to her head, grabbing the strands of hair and forcing her to take him deeper.

She gags around him, tears forming in her eyes as she opens her mouth wider, but she keeps going. She bobs her head up and down, making sure to hum and fondle his balls in the process.

His moans and groans grow louder, and his actions become more dominant. It was like a switch was flipped in his head, his hips starting to slam against her face.

He shows no mercy as he fucks her face, his dick reaching so far down her throat and giving her no chance to breathe. Her actions of gratitude had quickly become sloppy, the mixture of spit and precum coating her chin and falling down to her chest.

There were even bubbles of the mixture forming, popping every time her nose hit his happy trail.

She manages to look up at him, her mascara tears and glossy eyes making her look so damaged yet innocent - It drives him over the edge.

He quickly pulls out of her mouth and releases all over her face, enjoying the way she gasps in shock.

It's like his body is on autopilot, nothing but excitement and adrenaline controlling his actions. His hand wraps around her throat, lifting her to her feet with ease. Their lips instantly mesh together, swapping spit as they hastily make out. She moans into the kiss as he tightens his grip on her throat, the wetness in her panties only growing. She could feel the sticky fluid in between her folds every time she clenched her thighs - She was aching for him to touch her.

He suddenly pulls away from the kiss and begins to lick his own semen off of her face, his eyes rolling back. She moaned at his erotic actions, the way his soft and spongy muscle glided over her cheek. She could smell the faint mixture of cigarettes on his breath, but she found herself not caring.

Suddenly, she's pushed away from him, her body colliding with the mattress. It all happens so quick, the way her powder blue dress is ripped into pieces, her soaked panties following.

He was like a rabid, feral dog, ready to take what he wanted and she was just as excited.

Her jaw drops and her back arches as he shoves his length inside of her, reaching to the deepest hilt. Much like his partner in crime, he stretched her out perfectly, her aching walls sucking him in and not letting him go. The bedframe bangs against the wall with each ferocious thrust, items falling off her nightstand due to the shaking.

He shoves his face into the crevice of her neck, his teeth sinking into the soft skin. He proceeds with his actions, the marking of his teeth covering her whole chest along with her breasts - Blood is drawn in certain areas.

It's an overwhelming amount of pleasure, so overwhelming that she can't even keep her eyes open nor hold him. Her arms lay flat by her head, her eyes clenched shut as her mouth remains open.

Her eyes fly open when her head whips to the side, the same hand that slapped her wrapping around her throat, squeezing tightly.

He's heaving like a dog, his pants mixed with groans, making him sound like a beast.

She weakly grabbed at his wrist, trying to ease the pressure on her throat, but it was no use. She had become lightheaded from the pleasure and lack of air.

She was close to passing out, but she was also close to reaching her orgasm, it was just a matter of which one she would experience first.

"You're going to kill her, ease up on the choking."

Her blurry eyes dart to the bedroom door, a choked gurgle escaping her mouth when she sees him.

He was here, the one with the painted face. Except, his face wasn't painted, and he was watching her be fucked by his partner.

She gasped for air when he released her throat, her eyes still trained on the other one. She watches as he takes a seat at her vanity, leaning back on the chair and manspreading.

"Don't look at me, look at him. He's the one fucking you."

She does as told, her eyes connecting with the man on top of her. He had the same look in his eyes from that night when he chased after the girl trying to run away.

"Tell him how good he's making you feel, he loves the praise,"

"S-so good- Nghh. Fuck- " She could barely speak a full sentence, her speech slurred.

"That's all you can do? Come on dollface, he killed someone for you! Show him how grateful you are! He finally gets to feel you after watching me fuck you, give him the experience he deserves."

Her mind is reeling, incoherent babbles of praise falling from her lips. The more she praises him, the harder his thrust become, her sobs of pleasure getting louder.

It's not long before she felt that familiar coil in her stomach forming, ready to burst at any second - and all it took was one final thrust from the man on top of her to push her over the edge.

Her whole body shakes violently, her eyes rolling back as she feels the static rush through her body. Her ears were ringing, her vision blurry as she came down from her high.

She lays there shaking, her fingers twitching as she pants harshly. She was worn out, fucked, and tired.

Suddenly, he stands up from the vanity and slams his hand down on Chris's back, "Look at her....and I thought I wore her out." They both look down at her, trying to figure out what to do next.

Matt suddenly bends down and moves her hair out of her face, grabbing her chin softly.

"Wake up doll, your night has just started."

[rensukepie]

all i want for christmas is…

oliver aiku x reader

all you wanna come back to after a bad day is your loving boyfriend aiku.

contains : smut, p in v, breeding kink, spit, cunnilingus, very lovey dovey aiku, romantic aiku, kissing (a lot of it…), established relationship, touchy aiku, reader is sad and aiku comforts her :3

a/n : this was inspired by @aikuposer ‘s post!

minors dni

it was always him.

he’s the first person, and the only person you see when you come back from a shitty work day, the person you go over the grocery list with, the person who sees you cry, he’s the person you love. no matter the situation, it would always be him.

so when you come home from work during the christmas shopping season with puffy eyes and tears all over your cheeks, he’s worried sick!

….

“I-i didn’t mean to make her upset… she wasn’t clear about what she wanted…” you say in between sniffles with your voice cracking because of the heavy lump caught up in your throat.

“oh sweet girl… it’s okay, don’t cry… im here for you, that lady’s so stupid for that! she should’ve been more clear about what she was trying to get for her kid...” he’s wiping away your tears with his thumb, pulling you into a long hug.

“k-kiss me aiku… please… i missed you…”

and he does. his soft lifts against yours, his hands roaming your hips.

“gonna make you feel better, yeah? you’ll let me? hate to see my girl all sad…”

….

he kisses you a little bit more on your lips again before moving more down to kiss the other areas of your body, his hands intertwined with yours.

he finds your inner thigh, kissing it some more before undressing you, you clothed cunt on display for him.

normally, he’d start teasing you for the damp spot in the middle, but today was special, filled with love for you, words of reassurance aimed at you.

he kisses your clothed cunt one last time before taking your panties off, spitting on your soaked pussy before licking your clit with his skilled tongue.

“a..aiku! you’re so messy… fffuck!”

“sorry.. can’t help myself around you… you’re too pretty…”

….

“mmf—! a…aiku…faster….please…”

he picks up the pace just a little, but enough to have you whimpering a little louder, hands playing with his hair softly.

“you taste so good, my pretty… so beautiful..”

“g-gonna cum soon… mm.. aiku…”

“cum on my tongue for me baby… don’t gotta ask… just let go..”

….

he kisses you again, tasting yourself on your tongue before he undresses himself.

aiku rubs his cock back and fourth on your wet cunt to lube it up before entering inside of you, making you let out a couple of whimpers and moans all for him.

“mm…! aiku….”

he takes your whimper as a sign and finally puts his cock inside of your tight pussy, a deep groan leaving his mouth at the feeling.

“your pussy was made for my cock.. fuck—…”

….

he continues to thrust himself into you with your legs wrapped around his waist reaching to his muscular back. he can feel himself getting closer to the edge along with you.

“gonna fill your pussy with all my cum… you want that, hm?”

“mhm… want your cum aiku…. pleaseeee…” you say desperately, nibbling on his neck.

he takes his thumb and uses it to rub your sensitive clit, making you clench around his cock.

“shit—! gonna cum in you, doll… ohh fuckk—“

you cum right after him again and he pulls out, his cum dripping out of you.

“I love you, aiku…thank you for making me feel better…”

“I love you too baby, but we should shower… we look like a mess..”

….

he prepares a nice warm bath for the both of you with your favorite body wash and shampoo. who knows, maybe he’ll fill you with his cum nice and deep inside of you again?

…

[candycandy00]

Welcome to Christmas Island! - A Sanji x Reader Fanfic

You work on Christmas Island, where every day is Christmas! All guests get to make a wish to Santa and have it granted. When the Straw Hat pirates show up, you decide to grant the wish of their handsome blonde cook. 

Smut. 18+. Sanji x Fem Reader. Implied that Sanji is a virgin. Oral sex. Cream pie. I haven’t written Sanji in 20 years so I hope I got him right!

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!

Part of CandyCandy’s Kinkmas 2024!

You’ve lived and worked on Christmas Island for the past few years, but you still get excited each time new guests arrive, especially when they’re famous. 

It was only a matter of time before the Straw Hat pirates landed on this little island, and all your coworkers were equally hyped up to meet them. You’ve all followed their exploits in the newspapers for months, becoming fans along the way. Even the owner of the island, “Santa”, admires them! 

You’ve looked at all their wanted posters countless times, but one of them stood out to you: a silly looking blonde man named Sanji. While your friends were more interested in the more “cool looking” pirates, you found Sanji charming. You know it’s a silly picture, so you’re interested in finding out what he actually looks like. 

Your chance comes when the Straw Hats arrive and check into the enormous resort that takes up the entire island. They walk in, most of them gawking at the huge lobby full of Christmas trees and twinkling lights. They’re chatting and laughing amongst themselves, and their reputation for being fun-loving seems to be accurate.

Taming your excitement, you hurry over to greet them in your candy cane striped dress. 

“Welcome to Christmas Island!” you say in your cheeriest voice. “Please come in and sit down. I’ll explain how things work here.”

They begin taking seats in the plush red sofas positioned in the middle of the room. You do a mental headcount as you watch them, trying not to seem like an overly eager fan. 

Sanji spots you before you spot him. He steps up beside you, gently taking your hand in his. “Such a lovely lady here to welcome us!” he says, placing a quick kiss on the top of your hand. “This island is a dream already!”

When he raises his face to look at you, a breath catches in your throat. He’s way more handsome than you expected! His wanted poster barely resembles him, but the blonde hair and curly eyebrow are unmistakable. 

He smiles at you and takes his seat. You give the group a moment to settle down and get quiet before you begin. 

“On Christmas Island, every day is Christmas! At this resort, you’ll each write a letter to “Santa” asking for a Christmas present. You’ll receive that gift during your stay. Keep in mind we can only grant wishes for material goods or services. We can’t give you impossible things. For example, you can’t ask us to withdraw bounties or give you skills that can’t be learned while you’re here.”

They seem to understand, a few of them nodding. You pass out fancy notecards for them to write their Christmas wishes on, along with red envelopes for them to seal the “letters to Santa” in. 

A woman you recognize as Nami looks a bit skeptical as she eyes the notecard. “How much does this cost?”

Some of the others look at you, curious about the answer. 

You smile and shake your head. “No cost at all! There’s normally a fee, but since we’re all fans of the Straw Hat pirates, even Santa said to give you all the VIP treatment at no charge!”

The group seems happy to hear that, a couple of them actually cheering. Then they all begin writing on their notecards. Once they’re finished, you retrieve them and another employee shows the guests to their rooms. They’re all given private rooms, each one beautifully decorated with festive trees and lights. 

Later, you and two coworkers are reading the notecards to begin processing the wishes. 

“Look,” your friend says, giggling as she holds one out. “The captain just wrote one word: Meat!”

You laugh as you glance at a card in your own hand that says, “A year’s supply of cola”. 

Most of the requests are fairly reasonable and fit the crew members’ reputations. But at the bottom of the stack is one that stands out to you. 

“A sweet lady who wants to spend time with me.”

Your heart nearly skips a beat. You expected something perverted from the famously horny cook of the Straw Hat pirates, but Sanji’s request is surprisingly cute. 

“Can I take this one?” you ask, a little worried that one of your coworkers might have their eye on him. 

The two women look at each other and shrug. “It’s yours if you want it,” one of them says. The other nods in agreement. 

Thank goodness! You didn’t want there to be any awkwardness with your friends, but you were prepared to argue for this. Thankfully you don’t have to. 

One of them leans toward you conspiratorially. “What if he just wrote that as a nice way of saying he wants someone to fuck him?”

You grin at her. “Actually, I’m kind of hoping that’s the case!”

The others squeal in delight and cheer you on. “You get it, girl!”

You return to your own quarters to freshen up and change into your cutest red dress, then you head down the guest hall to find Sanji’s room. You only have to knock once before he opens it. Was he waiting by the door for his “present”?

He blinks as he looks at you, then smiles. “Oh, you’re the one who welcomed us!”

You return his smile. “I’m surprised you recognized me.” There are lots of women working here who wear the same dress you had on earlier. It’s basically the uniform. 

He steps aside, opening the door wider and gesturing for you to come in. “I never forget a beautiful lady’s face,” he tells you as you walk into his room. 

The comment makes you blush, but you giggle nervously and change the subject. “Are you settled in okay? Do you need anything?”

Looking around the room, you can see the closet door slightly open, and a few dress shirts neatly hanging inside. The bed doesn’t appear to be messed up at all, and everything is in its place. On a small table with two chairs, there’s a glass ash tray that’s nearly full. 

“I don’t need anything at all,” he says as he pulls out one of the chairs for you. “But can I offer you something to drink? I’m sure you know what the options are.”

You do. There’s a small variety of alcoholic drinks in the mini fridge, plus a hot water machine with various teas and coffees. 

As you sit in the offered chair, you accept his offer, taking a cup of tea. In all honesty, you just want to watch him prepare something. His skills are quite well known.  

You watch him fix your tea, his hands moving expertly to prepare it in the perfect manner. Then he sits the steaming cup in front of you and takes the seat on the other side of the table. 

The tea is delicious of course, leaving you wondering what you’ve been doing when you make it for yourself. He seems to like watching you enjoy it, a smile practically glued to his face. 

“It’s wonderful! I can’t believe it’s from the same tea we use!” 

After a few minutes of friendly chatting, you sit down your empty cup and get down to business. “Regarding your wish…”

His smile falters, a blush creeps over his face. “It’s okay if it can’t be granted!” he says quickly. “I’ll just take some new utensils, or maybe some rare spices if you have them here.”

Does he not realize you’re his present? He seems to have the wrong idea about your visit. Just how many times has this poor guy been rejected? 

You reach across the table and put one hand on his arm. “We can easily grant your wish,” you say. “In fact, that’s what I’m here for.”

He freezes, staring at you. His stunned eyes shift down to your hand, then back to your face. “You… want to spend time with me?”

“I’d love to!”

He still seems to be in shock. “Are you sure?”

You reach into the pocket if your dress and pull out a folded paper. You smooth it out on the table and slide it over to him. It’s his wanted poster. 

He blanches when he sees it, but before he can say anything, you blurt out, “I’m a fan of yours!”

“Huh?”

Now it’s your turn to blush again. “I mentioned before that all of us here are fans of the Straw Hat pirates, but we each have our favorites. You happen to be mine.”

He’s rapidly turning red. “Really?”

You nod. “I even keep your wanted poster in my pocket at all times.”

He glances at the poster. “But it’s such an unflattering picture of me…”

“You look fun! You look like someone I’d like to hang out with. And yes, you’re way more handsome in person.”

If this were a cartoon, steam would be shooting out of his ears. He almost seems to melt into his chair. “You think I’m handsome?!”

“Of course! I was so excited to meet you, so I happily volunteered to grant your wish!”

He has tears in his eyes as he takes both your hands in his across the table. “This place really is like a dream!”

And so the two of you laugh and talk and enjoy more tea for the next hour. He tells you funny stories about their travels and you tell him about some of the craziest wishes you’ve received. 

At some point, perhaps growing bold from the friendly atmosphere, you say, “To be honest, I wondered if maybe ‘spend time with you’ was code for something else.”

He seems genuinely confused, which is adorable. “Something else?”

You lean forward, subtly showing off your cleavage. “Something more… intimate.”

It seems like a shiver runs through his body, but then he composes himself and says, “I didn’t want anyone to feel obligated to do that.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” you say, looking as disappointed as you can, “because I was hoping it was code.”

His mouth falls open, the cigarette slipping from his lips. You can almost see hearts in his eyes. He seems to be trying to form words for a reply, but failing. 

You stand up and walk around the table to be closer to him. “I’m your present tonight, so you can do whatever you want with me.”

He swallows, looking up at you as if you’re a goddess that has come down to him from heaven. “Whatever I want?”

“Anything.”

His eyes dart about the room, as if he’s worried this might be some prank and someone else is waiting to rush out and tell him so. After a moment, he looks back at you. “Can I k-kiss you?”

You nod. “I’d like that.”

He stands up from the chair and steps right up to you. He slowly places his hands on your shoulders. So gentle! He’s treating you like a delicate little creature that will flee if he’s not careful. 

As he leans down, his eyes flutter closed, and you can see the blush across his cheeks. You feel the tips of his golden hair first, then his lips softly press against yours. It’s a chaste kiss, his hands lightly trembling on your shoulders. 

You’ve heard so many conflicting rumors about him. Some say he’s a totally lecherous horndog who fucks anything that moves. Others say he’s a sophisticated gentleman who respects women. Still others say he’s a pathetic virgin who can’t get laid to save his life. You’re beginning to suspect the truth is some strange mix of all three. 

You reach up and put your arms around his neck, pulling him into a deeper kiss. His tongue finally slips into your mouth, and he tastes like cigarettes and the tea you’ve both been drinking. 

When the kiss breaks, he looks positively lovestruck. But his arms are around your waist, holding you closer to him. You can feel the bulge in his pants, and you lightly grind yourself against it. “What else would you like to do?” you ask playfully. 

“Lady’s choice,” he says, the smooth gentleman peeking out again. “I’d love to know what youwant to do.”

You grin mischievously at him and say, “Sit down and I’ll show you.”

He moves back to sit in the chair so fast, your eyes could barely follow him. You giggle at his eagerness as he stares at you. You take a moment to pull up the edge of your red dress on one side, up to your hip. It’s enough to show him you’re not wearing panties without revealing the whole present. 

His eyes bulge, and you’re guessing something else is bulging even more now. You prance over and then lower yourself to your knees before reaching out and unbuckling his belt. You hear him breathe in through his teeth, and you look up to see his chest rising and falling rapidly with his breaths. You smile as you open his pants and slide one hand in, using it to pull out the prize you’ve been seeking. 

He’s bigger than you expected, and elegantly shaped. It’s such a nice cock, such a waste that it’s been neglected for so long. You can fix that. 

Your hand wraps around it and you slide it up and down the shaft. You can hear him breathing heavily as he watches, stunned. When you lean forward and give the tip a little lick, his hands suddenly grip the arm rests of the chair. You can hear the wood creaking under the force. 

Smiling to yourself over the fact that you can reduce a powerful, famous pirate to this state with one lick, you wrap your lips around him and take his twitching cock into your mouth. 

He groans, his head falling back and his eyes closing again as you begin bobbing your head back and forth, your lips gliding along his length. Your tongue swirls his tip, your throat tightens around him when he’s deep enough, and his panting above you makes such sweet music in your ears. 

Finally he places his hand on your shoulder and says in a strained voice, “I’m… I’m about to…”

You pull back and grin. “Please cum in my mouth.” Then your lips are around him again, sucking lightly and lapping at his tip. 

He looks torn between desire and being a gentleman, but desire wins out. With a moan he releases his load onto your tongue, and you drink it down eagerly. 

After a moment, you stand up, licking your lips. You stand nearby while his breathing slows to a normal pace. Then he looks at you. “That was incredible… you’re an angel!”

You laugh and take one of his hands, placing it atop your head as you lean toward him. “You’re supposed to pat my head and call me a good girl.”

His face turns scarlet, but he does as you wish, lightly patting your head and saying, “Such a good girl!”

You giggle at that, then look down between his legs. He’s beginning to get hard again, which is exactly what you’re waiting for. 

“So? What would you like me to do next?” you ask. 

He looks a little shy and awkward as he says, “Can we… have sex?”

You reach down and pull your dress up, all the way to your waist this time, giving him an eye full. His cock instantly becomes fully hard, his eyes seeming to turn to hearts again. “I thought you’d never ask,” you tell him as you step closer and straddle his lap, letting his lovely cock rest against your slickened pussy. That alone makes his entire body quiver. 

When you rise up and position his tip at your entrance, then sink down onto him, a gasp escapes him. His arms wrap around your body, holding you firmly but gently. You have to wiggle a bit to get free enough to begin riding him, your hips swiveling. 

Sanji groans as his own hips buck from the chair, pushing deeper inside you. Then he pauses, a worried expression on his face, and says, “I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?”

You smile, pushing your own body down to take him even deeper. “It feels good when you go deep,” you say, and his breath hitches, his eyes widening before he starts fucking up into you, slowly and deeply. One of his hands is on your waist now, the other buried in your hair. 

As you grind down onto him, his taut skin rubs against your clit, making your own breaths shallow and quick. His tip hits your cervix, and a shudder ripples through you. When you moan out his name, his cock throbs inside you, making you arch your back in pleasure. When you do, he buries his face in your chest, his tongue peeking out to lap at one pert nipple. 

He raises his face to look you in the eyes. “I’m in love with you!” he exclaims, his hands tightening their grip on you slightly. 

You smile, but don’t reply. Men always say that while they’re inside a woman, but you have no expectations. In a few days Sanji will sail away from here and you’ll never hear from him again. But you’ll treasure these memories of being with him for the rest of your life. 

He feels so good inside you, your clit is practically pulsing. He kisses you again, so sweetly. It’s a romantic kiss, the kind shared by people in love, and his hand slides down from your hair to rest softly on your neck. 

It’s all enough to push you over the edge, and you cum while still riding him, your body trembling in his arms. 

Watching you cum seems to push him to climax as well, and he suddenly pulls you tightly against him as he shoots his load into your core. 

The two of you remain intertwined for a while, both of you breathing hard, then his arms loosen around you and you slide off him, your legs partially numb. 

“I’m all yours while you’re on Christmas Island,” you say as you pull your dress back down. “Just call for me whenever you want.”

He looks at you for a long moment, then says, “Why don’t you come with us?”

You freeze. “What?”

He stands up and buttons his pants, then pulls out a fresh cigarette. “I can talk to Luffy. He’s pretty easy going about these things. You could join our crew and sail around with us. We get into a lot of dangerous situations, but we always pull through, and I can protect you.”’

You, joining the Straw Hat pirates? You’ve never even considered something like that before. But it sounds like a dream. You smile broadly at him. “I’d love that!”

He smiles back. “It really is Christmas every day here. I got more than I could even hope for!”

[fanfics-i-find-here]

Do I know you? Part 5

Jason Todd x reader

Synopsis: You meet Tim and Steph, Jason is not happy about it.

Notes: Some drama is finally here brought to you by Tim and Steph. This is the power of embarrassing a sibling.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

The past week had been… odd. And that was putting it nicely. True to his word, the next evening was filled with Red Hood replacing your window locks with newer fancy ones attached to an “Out of date” alarm system (his words not yours). He showed you how to set it up and how to attach it to your phone, so if anyone got in while you were away you would know. It seemed a bit excessive to you, living on the sixth floor and all but he was adamant about it, so you let him. He told you if you wanted him to come in and share tea you would have to leave the window unlocked for a frame of time. If he didn’t show in that frame of time, you were to lock the window anyway.

“No later, understand?” He had ordered gruffly, and you had just shrugged. You’re pretty sure he rolled his eyes in response, but you couldn’t see them. In the days following he showed up every day even if it were just for a couple minutes. Sometimes you shared food, sometimes just tea. If he stayed for longer than a few minutes, you would sit amicably at the dining table or at the island. Sometimes in comfortable silence and sometimes conversing about your days, mostly you than him. You finally settled into a routine. After his visit, you would get ready for bed and repeat the day over.

Work at Jackie’s was booming. With the fall season in full swing, people came in requesting pumpkin this and pumpkin that, only to be disappointed to find out Jackies only had one pumpkin item and that was pumpkin bread. It was a blast. You kept up with the regulars and Darla would edge her way around you, collecting gossip. Over the next week and a half, she would sporadically bother you about if you had gotten Jason’s number or if you had fallen in with some other guy. She said she saw some of the signs of a guy but wasn’t too sure. When you asked what she meant she didn’t offer you any explanation.

It was a Thursday when you met Steph. When she came in, you mentally prepared yourself for another no-pumpkin showdown. You try not to judge a book by its cover, but her blonde hair and purple athleisure made it hard not to.

“Hi, Welcome to Jackie’s. What can I get for you?” your lips twitch into a customer service smile. She grins at you like this was the most excitement she had had all day.

“Hi, I’m Steph. How are you?” she asks politely.

“I’m good. What can I get for you?” she sags slightly at your shutdown of the conversation. Overly friendly new customers in Gotham were never good. They usually wanted something.

“Right,” she perks back up, “One hot chocolate and one black coffee.” She pauses for a moment while you put in the system. When you look back up, she asks “Do you know Jason?”

The sudden question slightly takes you aback and don’t answer, so she continues.

“He's about this tall,” she holds her hand in the air, “black hair, looks like he could punch a brick wall.” You nod slowly and she smiles, “Great, where does he usually sit?”

You point to the table nook he usually hides in, and she nods, “We’ll sit there. I heard that you bring the drinks out?” You nod again, still confused about this girl. No Pumpkin spice latte, and she knows Jason? Strange.

“How much do I owe you?” you finally snap out of your stupor. She pays, you thank her and tell her it will be out momentarily. She turns and greets a lean boy as he walks through the door. She tugs him to the booth quickly and they talk to each other in hushed tones, both glancing up at you occasionally. You try to ignore them as you stumble through making the two easiest items on the menu.

You glance up when the bell dings and a smile flits across your lips when you see Jason before it turns into a frown as he frowns. His eyes staring at his now occupied table. You pause in your task and come up to the register as he takes a few slow steps towards it.

“You okay?” you ask as you glance at the two at the table. They’re looking at Jason like they’ve won the lottery.

“Did they talk to you?” He ignores your own question.

“She did. Only to order though. Do I need to call the cops?”

Jason snorts at the question, “Yeah that’ll go well. She just ordered? She didn’t ask you anything?”

You give him a strange look. What is with people and odd questions today?

“She just asked where you sit. Sorry, I gave you away.”

He breaks his glare from them and meets your eye with a softness.

“It’s okay, Sweetheart. They would’ve figured it out even if you hadn’t given it to them.” Your heart flutters at the pet name. He had called you that the few times you had seen him since your walk home and it was starting to get to you.

“You want me to dump out their drinks and just make yours?” you ask as you try to force your focus away from the warmth on your cheeks.

“And ruin your hard work?” his eyes stare into your own and he finally breaks it when you hear giggles from your spies. You drop your chin down. “It’s okay,” he repeats, “I’ll sit with them.” He nods at you and heads for the table. The two sat there leaning together and whispering. You wonder who they are and how Jason knows them.

You get to work make the drinks, no longer stumbling, and with bounce your step. Darla stands next to you with a smug smile and makes some refills for customers.

“You could have asked for his number when he was alone but now there are people. Your poor self won't ever be able to do it.” She says teasingly.

“Thank you, Darla,” you say with an eye roll as you load the drinks on the tray. You take your time to meander to the table as Jason looks like he's berating the two that sit across from him. It doesn’t look like it's working as they both sit there with smug grins. You set the tray on the table and all eyes are on you. You keep your own eyes down as you move the drinks from the tray to the table. Your eyes try to catch Jason’s book for the day because you know you won't be asking like you normally do. You pull the tray from the table and rest it between your side and your arm.

“Anything else I can get you?��� you glance at the two but meet Jason's eye. He looks flushed, possibly upset. Steph speaks up.

“No that’s okay. What was your name again?” she says like you had already told her. You break eye contact with Jason and look at her. She’s smiling and you can't find any malice in it, so you tell her. She nods like she already knows and points to the boy sitting next to her.

“This is Tim,” she points to Jason, “and obviously you already know Jason.” You hear a quiet thud from under the table and Tim flinches but smirks as he looks at Jason.

“You missed,” he turns to look up at you, “It's nice to meet you fin-” he cuts himself off and you wonder what the last word was.

You nod politely, “you too,” you say and look at Jason again for some explanation and a defeated look crosses his features as he shrugs.

“Brother” is all Jason gives, and you nod in semi-understanding. Based on the few mentions of family in passing conversations, you had always guessed he had a tense relationship with them.

“I didn’t know you had siblings.”  You look back at the two. Tim and Jason could definitely be brothers. Aside from their stature and slight skin tone difference, everything else is similar. Black hair, blue eyes. Though you would argue that Jason’s were prettier because they were green sometimes. Not that it mattered. Your eyes meet Stephs again. Blonde hair, green eyes, bright smile. Very different looking than the two boys.

“Are you the only girl in the family?”

Steph makes a gagging sound, “I’m not family, Thank God!” Tim snorts at her over dramatics.

“I’m sorry.” Your face flushes slightly as you flounder, “Then what…?” Your hand gestures to them all sitting at the table.

Jason's eyes narrow on your embarrassed state.

“Don’t worry, she’s just a leech.”

“Hey!”

“Would you mind getting me one of those chocolate croissants?”

You shift on your feet with a look of confusion. He never asks for anything else. You nod, “Sure, anything else for the table?”

Tim looks like he’s about to ask for something, but Jason cuts him off with a glare. Instead, he shakes his head no. You hesitantly step away from the table but take your time going back to the kitchen to pull out one of the chocolate croissants and warm it up. Your eyes periodically glance back at the table. They crouch over the table and talk to each other. You worry for a moment that they’re talking about you and then decide that it doesn’t really matter. You had only met Tim and Steph today. Their opinion of you was worthless and You knew Jason wasn’t one for gossiping about others. You’ve watched Darla try and fail. Once you finally make it back over to the table with the croissant, Tim and Steph are gone leaving their half-full drinks on the table.

As you set the plate on the table you ask, “Scare them off?”

Jason lets out a sigh.

“If only. I’m sorry if they made you uncomfortable.” You shake your head in response.

“I'm sorry I made assumptions before I had all the information. I hope I didn’t offend.”

“I doubt you could ever offend anyone sweetheart” Your cheeks warm again.

“That’s not true I work in a public job, and I offend people all the time just standing” you joke. Jason smiles and nods.

“That’s fair. How could you be so lazy?” he teases. You giggle.

 “Speaking of lazy, I should get back to work.” You point a thumb over your shoulder where a man leaves a table full of dishes.

“What time do you get off?” he asks. Your body freezes mid-turn at his abrupt question.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to” he adds on, “I just enjoyed walking with you the other day and I parked my bike around the same area again, so I thought maybe…” He trails off his own cheeks flushing. Your body relaxes as you look at your watch to think. He had convenient timing; you were off soon. It was nice having someone to walk with and it wouldn’t hurt to see him on his bike again. You nod with warmed cheeks.

“I get off in about thirty minutes if you don’t mind waiting?” you say as your eyes meet his. He nods, smiling.

“It’ll give me time to read.” He lifts his book that was sitting on the table, the cover reading Pride and Prejudice.

“Again?” You can't help but ask. He looks at the book cover and rolls his eyes.

“You really want to have this conversation again?” you shake your head quickly at his question.

“I'll see you in thirty minutes.” With that, you walk away from him and throw yourself into your finishing tasks.

Additional notes: This was originally a much longer chapter but I decided to split it up. So, the next chapter is about them walking home. I have to tell you I cannot wait for ya’ll to read the next one cause I got carried away for like three seconds and had to do some backtracking. The plot was happening where I didn’t want it. I loved having Tim and Steph involved in this and just not being subtle about anything. Jason may have tried to kill Tim once but that won't stop him from being a little shit. Thank you for your love guys. This has been such an interesting experience, so the support has been lovely. Tag List: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs, @uzxotic, @qardasngan, @stormz369, @g4bbi3xx 

[withjaejae]

Hole-in-One | JJK pt. 3

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader

High society, richie rich setting

Warnings: Oral (m/f), fingering, car sex, superstitions, tiny bit of jealous Jk, mostly Simp JK, unprotected sex, just sex.

A/N: felt inspired by JK’s recent live so here we are. Enjoy

+++++++

“If I make this hole-in-one, let’s go to the charity ball together as a couple.” Jungkook smirks and hits the ball. He was confident that he doesn’t even look when the ball goes in so smoothly.

You on the other hand are smiling like an idiot.

Its been a month since you and Jungkook started dating but you’ve been doing it lowkey. With the finals over and graduation is just around the corner, he wants to publicly announce your relationship by going to your parents’ charity ball together. For the entire society to see.

Jungkook approaches you and bends over to peck your lips. You were about to speak when a cough interrupts your moment.

“So this is why you don’t ask me to play golf anymore.” Namjoon stood behind you two and frowns. “Auntie told me you and Jungkook would be here.”

“Okay, and?” You raise your eyebrows. His eye flicker between you and Jungkook standing very close to each other.

“What are you doing with my friend?” He finally asks and Jungkook drapes an arm around your shoulders.

“We’re dating.” You answer simply and Jungkook’s chest swells with pride. “What do you want, Joonie?”

“Jungkook, need a favor.” You groan and turn away, taking Jungkook with you.

“Aha. My days as your wingman are over, Joonie.” He teases him with the nickname. “I’m like your cousin now.” His words make you blush.

“Come on. You’re like the best wingman ever.” Namjoon groans. “There’s this girl who DJs at this club. You know people there, just give me an opening.”

“And I told you, I can’t. Plus, me and YN are going shopping tonight.” He shrugs. Namjoon groans in frustration.

You take pity in your cousin who is single as a pringle.

“You can go.” You look up at Jungkook. “It would be fun.”

“Nah. I hate clubs, the only clubs I want are these.” He hugs his brand new golf clubs that he bought yesterday. “Plus, I got a hole-in-one. Don’t I get my reward?”

“I thought your reward was the charity ball?” He groans. “Okay.” You tease.

“Ugh. I hate you two. Come onnnnnn.” You forgot Namjoon was still there. “You can tag along YN.” You contemplate.

“Damn. She must be really hot for you to let me join.” You turn back around to face him. “I guess we can go after shopping.” You look up at Jungkook.

“Fine.” He pouts.

“Would you be angry if I just drove around the block then back to the club house because I’m sure Henry or whatever can spare me a room?” Jungkook as his eyes glued to your legs. “Baby, you’re a sin.” His eyes finally met yours.

After shopping you both took an hour to prepare to get Namjoon a girlfriend. Or you hope its going to be a girlfriend.

You picked out a cute silver dress that’s too short for Jungkook’s sanity.

“If yoy’re the best wingman the way Namjoon says you are. We can be back at the club in an hour.” You trail your finger along his jaw before giving him a soft kiss.

He groans as you step away, he opens the door for you and you both drive towards the heart of the concrete jungle.

Namjoon had already chosen a VIP table near the DJ booth. His eyes light up as soon as he spots Jungkook approach with you right next to him.

“Ugh. You guys look good. Its annoying.” He rolls his eyes but hands you two an amorito sour.

“Okay, you ready?” Jungkook drinks half his cocktail and stands up.

“What? No! Its too soon!” Jungkook sits back down and pouts. “Do you have a next appointment or something?”

“No.” He continues to pout and you giggle at his cuteness.

“Relax.” You place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze. “Let’s have some fun.”

A tray of shots gets served at your table and you’re just as shocked as Jungkook. But hey, you haven’t been out for a while.

The three of you took shots like actual college students. Jungkook’s hand sitting tightly in between your knees.

“Jungkook. Go time.” Namjoon nods, you both look up at the DJ booth where they switch and the female Dj exits towards you.

“Whatever you’re gonna see. Its all for show.” Jungkook whispers before grabbing a shot glass and walks down crossing her and accidentally spilling the shot over her arm.

He doesn’t apologize, instead he just walks away and you can see the dj mumble ‘asshole’ just then Namjoon approaches with a handful of tissues and strikes up a conversation with her. In a couple of minutes you feel someone sit next to you.

“Is it like a good cop bad cop sort of thing?” You ask before turning to see who sat next to you.

“I dunno.” The voice sounded different.

You turn to see Kim Taehyung, a highschool friend, you shriek and hug him.

“Tae tae! When did you get back?” You start speaking french.

You both attended a private school in Paris but he pursued art there while you came home for college. Though you knew each other since you were kids, you only became close in highschool.

“A couple of days ago, I’m in town for a relative’s wedding. Fancy seeing you here, you hate clubs.” His arm was draped over the couch behind you.

Jungkook could see it from across the room, his stare is as sharp as a spear. The moment Tae tucks a hair behind your ear, he snaps. Angrily wading through the crowd on the dance floor before he finally reaches you both.

Tae looks up at him. “Jungkook.”

“Taehyung.” The air suddenly felt cold. Your eyes going back and forth between them.

Taehyung was the reason Jungkook didn’t make swim captain in 6th grade. He’s pissed to this day. He was also the reason he didn’t join the Paris program, he didn’t want to be anywhere around the man.

Clearly you two became close while in Paris.

“Taehyung, you remember Jungkook, he’s my boyfriend.” The B word that came from your mouth made any anger from Jungkook dissipate.

“Ah. Seems that I was too late.” He teases but you reach up for Jungkook’s hand. Taehyung took it as his cue to leave. “It was nice seeing you both. If he ever breaks up with you…” he locks eyes with Jungkook. “Call me.” Then looks at you.

You give him a small wave as he left, Jungkook takes his seat back. A grin on his face.

“You called me boyfriend.” He wraps an arm around your waist.

“Are you not?” You bit your lip. But the expression on Jungkook’s face tells you he loves it.

“I most definitely am, girlfriend.” You both cringe and laugh.

You wait a couple more minutes until Namjoon gives a thumbs up while passing you both before you stood up and left.

“Well, that was fun.” You smile as Jungkook gets in the car with you.

“But not as fun as—“ Before Jungkook could finish his sentence you’re crossing the center console and sitting on his lap, landing your lips on his.

It was a good makeout session until Jungkook starts undressing you.

“Wait. We can’t.” You pull away from the kiss, his hooded eyes luring you in. He asks why, “It’s bad luck to fuck in a car.”

“Says who?” He chuckles. “Its not like anyone can see us.”

“I know and I really want to. But it’s bad luck. For the car, not us.” He full on laughs.

“I wanna test that now.” He continues to put both hands on your ass. “Shit.” He curses when he feels you wearing a thong.

“Fine. Its your car.” You crawl towards the back seat. “Do you want your reward?” You wink and he hastly follows you.

His jeep has a wide leg space for the back seat so there was no hurdle as you situate yourself between his legs. You tie your hair up in a pony tail and place his hand on it.

“Shit. I don’t think I’ll last long with you looking like a fucking goddess.” You smirk at his words as you finally take him in your mouth. “Holy fuck. You are most definitely a goddess.” You take him deep in your throat and swallow around him.

He groans deeply making your slick drip from your folds. You moan around him, you can feel his dick twitch on your tongue. You drag your tongue across every ridge and nerve, the slurping sounds echoing in Jungkook’s brain. Despite your ruined mascara, he worships how you take him so well. Whispering filthy things as he cums down your throat.

He pulls you by your pony tail, you’re facing the passenger’s side window, you feel his tongue lick your thigh all the way up to your folds.

“Baby, you’re dripping.” You chuckles. “Who did this to you?” He, again, rips your underwear off.

That’s the fifth time in the time you’ve been together.

“You.” You mewl and rest your head on the seat. “Kookie, please.” Your breathing becomes ragged as you feel him tease your hole with his fingers. Pushing back towards him.

“Eager, baby?” He bites your ass cheek as he plunges two fingers in you.

He’s making you scream and moan, not giving a shit if someone passed by and heard you. Begging for more, his fingers have no mercy after adding another finger. He makes you fuck yourself on his hand and he revels in your reactions.

Your thighs start shaking, a sign that you’re close but just before you dive into your climax he pulls away.

“Nooooo—FUCK.” Your complaint turns into a moan, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he rams his huge cock in you in one go. Your wetness making it easy for him to slide in.

He pistons in you, for sure someone can see the car shake but who the fuck cares anymore.

He takes a seat and you ride his huge cock facing away from him. You rest your hands on the front seats and give him something you’ve always wanted to do. And honestly, it drives him mad.

You raise your hips and start fucking yourself on his cock. As if you were twerking on him.

The view of your ass bouncing makes him lose it. He gathers up some slick and spits on your ass, you look back at him as he teases your ass hole with his thumb. You push back and nod, giving him a go.

He lets out a rough exhale as he pushes this thumb into your ass. You moan at the intrusion but surprisingly, it feels good. Maybe its the alcohol , or maybe its just Jungkook but fuck you feel ecstacy.

Your entire body becomes sensitive as you reach your peak.

“Baby. So fucking close.” You moan and Jungkook meets your ass by thrusting up. His thumb still in there. The sensation pushes you over and you’re cumming all over his cock the same time as he paints your insides white.

Your arms give out and Jungkook catches you again. You both catch your breat before you crawl to reach for the wet tissues from the glove compartment. You clean each other up.

“So… butt stuff.” You start and he chuckles.

“Its my first time too baby. Let’s put it on a shelf.” He kisses you deeply. Three words almost slipped out of his lips but he holds it back. Its too soon.

The next morning.

You both stand on the side walk, staring at Jungkook’s car as it gets towed. Apparently, it won’t start and its not because of the battery.

You open your mouth to say something but he shuts you up by kissing you. Out on the street. For your parents and the neighborhood to see. Both his hands on either side of your face, your arms wrapped around his waist.

“Yes, you warned me. But it was so worth it.” He pecks your lips. “We still have your car.”

“Nope. Its bad luck. My baby cannot have bad luck.” He keeps an arm around your shoulders as you take a stroll down the road.

“So, do you already have an outfit for the charity ball?” He asks and you nod.

You do hope he likes the deep royal purple gown you had custom made. It was also your graduation party after all.

[cozydiiary]

How I lost 50lbs in a Year

At the beginning of October 2023 I w€ighed 180lbs, at the beginning of October 2024 i w€ighed 130lbs. I’ve since gained some of that back because of a couple changes in my life that were out of my control but I’ve decided to share what I did to lose the w€ight.

1. OMAD

- I only had one meal a day on and off for a few months. It helped A LOT. I would drink water or energy drinks throughout the day to keep me full. On days I couldn’t omad, I would eat a small lunch and small-medium dinner. I’m sure I could’ve lost more if I was able to omad every single day.

2. EXERCISE

- I used to have zero motivation to exercise at all, but I would always walk around the parking lot where I work to get some steps in at the very least. I regret not working out more, but I plan to in the future.

3. WATER

- As I mentioned earlier, drinking a lot of water or really anything can help keep you full. I would drink monsters and water until I felt sick to my stomach. It helped a lot because even if I was hungry, my stomach hurt too bad to try and eat.

4. PORTION CONTROL

- I still went out with friends and family occasionally and we would go out to eat. I would order what I wanted most of the time, but I would make sure to control how much of each thing I ate. I always left at least half of my plate basically untouched. There’s no harm in feeding your cravings, just know your limits.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

That’s really it! I definitely had my days where I ate way more than planned or didn’t exercise at all so don’t think I’m perfect in any way or that I followed this to a t every single day because I didn’t.

It’s honestly kind of frustrating how I lost those 50lbs because now I’m stuck in a plateau and my w€ight is maintaining, even with me doing the exact same thing.

Remember that w€ight loss isn’t a constant and it’s definitely not easy. It takes a lot of dedication and discipline. Just don’t be hard on yourself if you have a bad day, I promise it won’t ruin all of your hard work and progress. Stay safe 🩷

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Naughty or Nice?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: smut, fem!receiving

Summary: This year, you’re going to ask Santa for something only you have been able to give you thus far. Orgasms.

Square Filled: Christmas (2021) for @spndeanbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Normally, the mall is a place you and your friends avoid during the holiday season, but you heard that they were hosting auditions for Santa this year. Rumor has it, that someone super attractive got it. Again, you’re not one to go man-hunting at a crowded mall with children and families running everywhere, but here you are.

Your dating life hasn’t been all that great. It mostly consists of hookups and one-night stands that can never get you to orgasm. Only your pink ice cream clit vibrator has ever been able to do the job, so you’re hoping to come here and maybe meet a willing Santa to take home. Maybe if you sit on his lap and wish for orgasms, he’ll be inclined to give you one.

It’s worth a shot.

“I can’t believe you’re going to do this,” your friend, Beth, says.

“What? Men who audition for Santa usually aren’t men from this town. They’re all married and they don’t want to take the joy away from their kids. Whoever it is, is from out of town, which means he can be hot, single, and eager for a hookup.”

“I thought you were done with those.”

“No, I am done with hookups from men who only think about themselves. I’ll be able to take one look at this Santa and know if he can jingle my bells if you know what I mean.”

Beth laughs and shakes her head. “I don’t think parents would allow their children to sit on a sexy man’s lap.”

“Only one way to find out. Come on.”

The area where kids are meeting Santa is already crowded with families, and the line is already three stores down from the start. When Dean heard about the Santa auditions, he put in his name when he was drunk. What harm would it do if he decided to be Santa for a night? On one hand, he can make a lot of children’s days by being Santa. On the other hand, he could meet a kid’s single mom or their sexy aunt and take them home. It’s a win-win.

“Okay, I thought you were joking before, but you’re really going to do this?” Sam asks his brother.

Dean pulls on the red coat and smirks at his brother. “Hot chicks, Sammy.”

“Kids, Dean.”

Dean shrugs. “It comes with the job. Just go find something to do. This shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours.”

“You’re relentless.”

“Dedicated, Sam,” Dean smirks.

Sam rolls his eyes and leaves the room. He decides to head back to the motel room instead of sticking around. Dean finishes getting ready and walks out with one of the mall coordinators. As soon as the kids see him, they cheer at the thought of being with Santa even for a minute. He stays true to his character and plays the best Santa he can be for the kids also while looking out for anyone single and willing to go home with him.

“Looks to me like he’s a regular guy,” Beth says to you as you inch closer to the front of the line.

“Beth, you are married so I don’t expect you to see this but I caught a glimpse of him as he was putting his costume on. I think he was carved by the Gods themselves.”

“You’re relentless,” she rolls her eyes.

“What? I am just trying to participate in Christmas traditions.”

“You don’t even have any kids.”

“I’m practicing…?”

“By asking Santa for,” she lowers her voice to a whisper, “orgasms?”

“Yes.”

Beth laughs, and you get closer to the front of the line. Dean takes a picture with one of the little girls who just asked for a pony when he locks eyes with you. For just a few seconds, it’s like time has slowed down just for the two of you. Even from where you’re standing, you can see how green his eyes are.

“Next!” the mall attendant yells.

“Good luck,” Beth whispers and steps off to the side where the parents wait.

The mall attendant gives you a weird look, especially when you step up on the platform where Dean is. She doesn’t say anything because she doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it even though you’re getting some dirty looks from parents in line.

“Well, who do we have here? What’s your name?” Dean drawls when you sit on his lap.

“Y/N.”

“And have you been a good girl this year?”

You smirk when you hear the double meaning in his words.

“Oh, I’ve been a very bad girl.”

Dean’s eyes darken. “You know the deal. Bad girls don’t get presents.”

“Might you make an exception?”

He licks his lips, and you can’t help but watch his tongue. “I might. Depends on what you want.”

You lean in so that your mouth is close to your ear. You don’t need everyone in the mall to hear this.

“Orgasms.”

“Bad girl or not, I think I can help with that.”

“I’d hope you would,” you grin.

“Meet me after in front of Barnes and Noble.”

You forgo the picture and leave to give the kids what they came here for. Dean shifts in his seat to hide the erection you gave him. He’s not trying to scar any children or piss off any parents.

“Did you ask him?” Beth asks when you walk away from the place.

“Yes. God, he was so much more attractive up close. He was so… firm. I’m going to meet him after he’s done. Thank you for coming with me.”

“Anytime. I have to get back to Jared. He already started drinking eggnog without me.”

“Okay. I’ll let you know how it goes,” you wink.

You wait anxiously in front of Barnes and Noble until the very last child has had her turn with Santa. The more you’re by yourself, the more you psych yourself out. Was this a good idea? You don’t even know the man. He could be a murderer for all you know. Okay, maybe not that but he could have dark secrets in his closet.

Before you can convince yourself to leave, a man who you believe is Santa walks over to you wearing flannel, jeans, and a black jacket.

“So, have you decided if you want to be naughty or nice?”

“Whichever is more fun,” you grin.

“Naughty it is.” He holds his hand out and you take it. “I’m Dean.”

“Y/N, but you already know that.”

He even has a hot car. Once you see the shiny black Impala, you decide you’re going to milk Dean for everything he’s got before he leaves. He might very well be the best one-night stand you’ll ever have.

Dean takes you back to his motel room where Sam is reading a lore book. He looks up when the door opens, and he shakes his head when he sees his brother isn’t alone.

“Out, Sammy.”

“Dude.”

“Would you rather watch me fuck her?”

“That’s something I’m not opposed to if you’re into that sort of thing,” you say.

“No, thanks,” Sam pouts. “I’m going to get a room far from yours.”

As soon as Sam leaves, Dean pulls you into him and presses light kisses down your neck.

“So, are you going to unwrap me?”

“Damn right, I am, and I’m going to take all night to do it.” Dean lays you down on the bed and runs his hands down your legs. “Are you wet for me?”

“Undress me and find out.”

Dean practically rips your clothes away, and you don’t even think about needing them tomorrow at the moment. All you want right now is his mouth and fingers on you. Dean cups your pussy and runs two fingers through your slit to confirm that yes, you are wet and ready for him. He falls to his knees and you spread your legs open wide for him.

He grips your thighs and pulls you to the edge of the bed before burying his face between your legs. Some of the men you’ve been with hated going down on you, so you haven’t had a man down there in a while. Just the simple act of Dean sliding his tongue through your folds is enough to bring a squeal out of you.

“Fuck, Dean, that feels so good,” you moan and grab his hair.

“Good. I’m not stopping until you’re dripping down my chin.”

Dean massaged your clit with his tongue before sliding down to your entrance. He tongues you rapidly while rubbing your clit with his thumb. You can’t come unless your clit is stimulated, but you honestly think Dean could just lick you and you’d explode for him. Maybe you’ll test that theory later tonight when you go for another round. Dean is the kind of man you go multiple rounds with.

“Shit, Dean, that feels so good. I’m gonna come.”

“Come all over my face.”

You don’t wait another second before exploding around his tongue, and he laps up every drop you’re giving him.

“God, you taste like Heaven,” Dean moans.

He kisses your clit once before standing up. You stand and kiss him even though you can taste yourself on his lips. You undress him until you’re both naked, and he turns you so that you’re facing the bed. He gently pushes down on your back until you’re on your hands and knees, and he grips your hips and tugs you hard enough for you to lose your balance. You fall face first on the bed with your ass in the air, just how he wants you.

He grabs the base of his cock and squeezes to prevent his release from coming too soon. He pumps twice before sliding the head of his cock between your pussy lips.

“Dean, skip the formalities. Please, fuck me.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

He grabs both sides of your hips and slides into your pussy slowly so that you can feel every inch. You gasp from the stretch but he doesn’t stop until you’re completely full of him. You grip the sheets and push back into him as much as you can from your position. Dean pulls out only to slam back in, and you can’t help the loud moan from coming out.

“Fuck, Y/N, how are you so tight?”

“You feel so good, Dean,” you moan.

Thankfully Sam isn’t next door or else he’d hear the sound of skin slapping against skin and your beautiful moans.

“Rub your clit for me, baby. Get yourself closer to the edge. I want to come with you.”

You reach down and rub your clit in fast hard circles. It’s been so long that you’re approaching the edge faster than you’d thought you would.

“Fuck, Dean, I’m close again.”

“Come all over my cock.”

You do as he says and explode all around him. You squeeze his cock several times which brings Dean over the edge. He slows his thrusting to ride out both of your highs until neither of you can give anything more. He pulls out of you and falls onto the bed next to you.

“I hope you’ve got more than one round in you.”

He smirks. “Baby, I can go all night.”

You love Christmas time.

x

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[stellamancer]

notes: time is a construct that bten!reader no longer understands. anyway, yes hellow, late gojo birthday fic that i am pretending that i'm not posting on megumi's birthday LMAO.

takes place in the same universe as beyond the unending night, however reading that fic is not necessary, all you need to know is that reader has a CT that can rewind time. slight and implied reader x gojo if you're squinting. also. reader is very unreliable narrator (there are some things in the narration that gojo responds to because reader is unaware they said it aloud oops.) not proofread.

wc: 944

“Your birthday was a couple days ago?” 

Gojo tilts his head toward you, expression passive for a split second before a broad grin spreads across his face. “It was! How did you know! Wait, let me guess, you—”

“The students,” you supply flatly before he can make any outlandish suggestions regarding how you happened across the information. “Yuta-kun mentioned it.” 

There’s a slight pucker to Gojo’s lips, but it’s gone almost instantly as he remarks. “Oh Yuta… He’s always been an exemplary student! Even going so far as to remember his dear old teacher’s birthday…” 

You stare at Gojo. There’s a trap here. Bait. It’s not well hidden either, if his exaggerated tone is any indication. You consider telling him straight up: it’s not possible to remember something you never knew in the first place. But instead, you decide to indulge him. “Do people usually not remember?” 

Now that you say that, you find the words hard to believe. You can barely call yourself a part of jujutsu society, but there’s no denying that Gojo is something of a big deal. There’s no way that these illustrious ‘higher ups’ would forget the birthday of someone as important as Satoru Gojo.

“It’s not that they don’t remember,” Gojo says, “it’s that they just don’t care.” 

The nonchalance in his voice stuns you, more so than the fact that you cannot detect even a hint of bitterness in it. They… don’t care? You want to be in denial, to think that that simply cannot be true. And yet…

You cannot deny it. 

Not when you know what you do of the top brass.

“Well, not the students,” Gojo adds, fondness seeping into his tone as the tiniest smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Threw me a party and everything. As expected of students of the Great Teacher Gojo!”

He puffs his chest out a little, clearly pleased, no doubt proud. 

“...did you do anything else?” you ask. Knowing someone as whimsical as Gojo, you can imagine him spending the day as he pleased, going from sweet shop to sweet shop spending exorbitant amounts of money on any and every sugary item he could possibly get his hands on. 

“Nope.” 

You blink at him. “What.”

“I was waaaaaay too busy to do anything else,” Gojo says with a dramatic sigh. “Honestly, I’m lucky that the students love me so much that they took on a couple extra missions just so we could party for a half hour.”

Gojo’s words have you gawking at him, slack jawed and in awe. You’re well aware that he’s a busy guy, but to only have had a half hour of free time on his birthday to celebrate is just…

“Don’t make that face.” His voice is quiet. Gentle. “It’s fine; I’m used to it. Just a part of being an adult, you know?”

He’s not wrong, but… 

Somehow, it doesn’t sit well with you. 

“....you’re done with everything you have to do today, right?” you ask, reaching into your pocket to check the time; it’s nearly midnight.

“Yeah?” Gojo answers, and while he sounds mostly amused, you think you can hear the smallest hint of confusion. “You thinking of having a late night snack together to make up for missing my birthday? How romantic of you!” 

“Not exactly,” you shoot back without missing a beat, but Gojo doesn’t seem to be disappointed by you rebuffing him. You outstretch your palm toward him and he inclines his head down slightly to show that he’s looking down at it. 

Gojo hums. He knows what you’re thinking. Of course he does. “You know that’s technically against the rules.” 

“And?” you ask as you stare back at him.

“You could get in biiiiiiig trouble, you know.”

Your gaze doesn’t waver.

“Could even be sentenced to death for it!” 

Your hand doesn’t move.

Gojo tilts his head to the side before heaving a sigh and shaking his head. He raises his hand, but rather than take yours, he reaches up higher and moves to flick your forehead. That would work just as well, and for a split second you gather your cursed energy, ready to use your technique, but—

You merely wince and Gojo tilts his head to the side, raising an eyebrow as your energy quickly dissipates.

“Change your mind?” he asks.

“Wasn’t sure if you were actually going to do it,” you answer honestly. Did he actually flick you or did he just ‘pretend’ to? There wouldn't have been any point if he pretended. 

“What do you think?”

You frown as a playful, yet menacing grin spreads across Gojo's face. He knows full well that you can't tell, especially if you can't even see the point of contact. 

“Well wishes aside, the only other thing I can really offer you is time,” you deadpan. It wasn't like you were going to be stupid and give him a week or even a month, but…

Gojo wags his finger at you, tutting. “No, not true! There's something else!”

You give him a pointed look. What else could you possibly give? 

“Well, it's really more like an IOU,” he explains airily, before his tone shifts, growing quieter and more serious. “Just get stronger. Strong enough to take on missions just like me and maybe next year we can have a longer party.” 

You sigh. His suggestion is more practical, more useful in the long run, and while you can agree with what he's proposed… It's his birthday. He could afford to be a little more selfish. 

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, his smile ever wide and absolutely ominous. “I'll keep that in mind next time.” 

[purplephantomwolf]

Savoring the Finish Line

Chapter Six

Synopsis: You are a bakery owner. One day Max Verstappen comes into your bakery.

Note: This is not an accurate portrayal of how the real people in this act. I do not know them personally, so I will not be portraying them accurately.

Warnings: Panic attack mention

Previous Chapter: Chapter Five

Masterlist

March 20, 2022

     “Y/n, what are you still doing here?” Christian appears in front of you. 

     “Waiting for Max. He wanted to drive me home after the race,” you yawn, stretching. 

     “We just finished our debrief meeting, so he should be up soon,” Christian claps you on the shoulder. 

     “Thank you, Christian. Have a good night,” you nod, as he leaves the hospitality. 

     You only have to wait a couple of minutes before Max appears. “Bonjour, Max,” you say, as he approaches you. 

     “Hi, Y/n,” he says, dejected. You frown at his response. 

     “What’s wrong?” You stand up, grabbing your bag. You start walking to his car. 

     “I’m sorry about the race; I wanted to give you a good one to watch,” he sighs. 

     “Max,” you start, giving him a stern look. “You did give me a good race. You did amazing today,” you tell him. 

     “But I got a dnf,” he protests. You grab his arm to stop and turn him towards you. 

    “Max, you were in podium position until your car had issues. It is not your fault you got a dnf,” you firmly say. He gives you a sad look, and you shake your head. “I still had so much fun this weekend. I don’t care that you had a dnf. I am still thankful you invited me,” you tell him as you arrive at his car. He looks surprised when you say you don’t care that he has a dnf. 

     “Thank you, Y/n,” he says, opening the door for you. 

     You slide in, replying with a “I didn’t do anything to be thanked for.” Max climbs into his side of the car and you drive in silence for a couple minutes. 

     “I’m thinking of hiring another baker so that I can take time off and not have to close the bakery. This is my first time taking time off since I opened it,” you think aloud, trying to fill the silence. 

     Max glances at me, “Oh? I think that would be an excellent idea. You must be exhausted from working every day.”

     You sigh, nodding. You rest my head against the window of his car, the vibration of the car lulling you to sleep. 

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

     “Y/n,” you hear your name and feel your body gently shake. 

    “Huh?” You hum, slowly waking up. You rub your eyes, looking around. 

     “We’re at your hotel,” Max smiles at you. 

     “Oh, thank you,” you yawn. You grab my bag and turn to Max. “Thank you for everything this weekend. I won’t ever forget a moment of it,” you thank him. 

     “Of course, thank you for helping me through my panic attack. I don’t know how I would’ve calmed down otherwise,” Max smiles gently. 

     “Of course, I’ll help you anytime you need it. Have a good night, Max,” you say, going to climb out of his car. 

     “You leave tomorrow, right?” He rushes his question out. You turn to him, nodding. “Okay, then I guess the next time I see you will be back in Monaco. Good night, Y/n,” he smiles.

     “Good night, Max,” you climb out of his car, waving to him. You head into the hotel and up to your room. 

      You fall onto your bed, letting out a happy sigh. You pull out your phone to call Louis and Estelle. The phone rings a couple of times before someone picks up. 

     “Bonjour, Y/n!” Louis greets you. 

     “Bonjour, Louis!” you reply. 

     “Tell me about the race! How was Max afterwards?” Louis inquires. 

     “Oh, the race was amazing. Watching the cars fly past was so cool. We’re definitely going to have to go to Monaco this year. Max was hard on himself, he wanted to give me a good race to watch, and getting a dnf is not what he wanted,” You sigh, recalling how Max was acting, “I told him that he did give me a good race to watch and it’s not his fault he got a dnf.”

     “Good, hopefully he won’t be too hard on himself now,” Louis hums. 

     “I hope not, but he probably will be,” you say. Louis makes a sound of agreement. You let out a yawn. “I should go to bed. It’s late here, and I have a flight to catch tomorrow,” you tell Louis. 

     “Bon nuit, Y/n. We’ll see you tomorrow,” Louis responds. You wish him a good night and hang up the phone. You go through your nightly routine and climb into bed, quickly falling asleep. 

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

March 21, 2022

     You deboard the plane, heading for baggage claim. Gathering your things from the carousel, you look for Louis and Estelle. You spot them quickly and head towards them. 

     “Welcome home, cherie. How was the flight?” Louis asks, taking your baggage from you. 

     “How were Lacey and Elise?” You ask, heading for the parking lot. 

     “They were angels. They’re super excited to see you,” Estelle informs you. You let out a little laugh, nodding. 

     “I’m sure, this is the longest I’ve been away from them. Probably missing their mama a whole bunch,” you say. You approach Louis’ car and climb in. “Thank you for picking me up.” 

      “Of course, dear,” Estelle says. You guys head for your apartment and bakery. 

     Pulling into your bakery parking lot, you can spot your dogs staring out from the upstairs window. You laugh and climb out. “Thank you again for the ride. I’ll see you guys tomorrow morning,” you say, giving both of them kisses on the cheek. 

     “Of course, amour. We’ll see you tomorrow,” Louis says. You wave goodbye as they pull away from the bakery. 

     Once they’re out of sight, you head into the bakery. Scaling the stairs, you can hear your puppies scratching at the door. “I’m here, I’m here,” you coo, opening the door. “Hello, my loves. Did you miss your mama?” You talk to them like they can actually answer you. After greeting them and petting them for five minutes, you head to your bedroom to put up your luggage. 

     As you’re putting the last of your things away, your phone rings. Max’s name flashes across the screen, bringing a grin to your face. “Hello, Max,” you answer the phone. 

     “Hello, Y/n. Did you make it home without any trouble?” Max asks you. 

     “I did. I’m home and I just finished putting everything away. Did you make it to Saudi Arabia alright?” You ask him, falling into bed. 

     You hear shuffling on the other end of the phone and a door close. “I did, I just got back to my hotel after dinner with the team,” Max responds. 

     “Oh, sounds fun. Are you expecting a good weekend from the car?” You inquire. 

      “It’s looking better than last weekend. We replaced some parts and it’s looking better,” Max answers you. 

      “Oh good, I’m glad. I’m excited to see you win. I’ll be cheering from home,” you tell him. 

     “I’ll win this race for you,” Max informs you. You let out a little giggle. 

     “Okay, sounds good,” you blush and kick your feet excitedly. You suddenly get hit with a wave of tiredness. “I think I’m going to sleep, Max. I’ll text you when I wake up tomorrow, if you’d like?” You shyly ask him. 

      “I’d love that,” he answers.

      “Okay, I’ll do that then.” You wish him a good night and hang up. You crawl under the covers and your pups join you in bed. The flight wore you out, so you’re asleep in seconds. 

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