ENTRY #11 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // I starve for your touch yet fear to savor it.
contents: arranged marriage!au, nudity, reader discretion is advised — wc. 1690
a/n: there was no way i wouldn't write a fic based on this picture. just no way.
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Satoru loves to sleep naked.
The beauty of his innate technique, the blessing that he mastered to no end, has stripped him off one of the most basic human needs — touch. He wasn’t missing it that much, he thought, but there was something in letting go of everything and allowing himself to be wrapped in the silky layers of bedsheets that made his body crave the feeling.
He has always picked expensive garments, the ones with soft fabrics and luxurious feel, despite everyone telling him it’s unreasonable to spend so much on a shirt or a pair of trousers, but to him, it did matter. To him, that was the only thing touching his body when a thin layer of infinity effectively forced everything else back. To Satoru, touch was forbidden, threatening. It was a vulnerability that he, the strongest, couldn’t afford.
But that until he’s met you. Until he’s married you.
You were one of not many people he’s made an exception for. You were able to touch him whenever you wanted because the protective surface of endless matter let you in. Because he himself altered his technique to make you capable of laying your hands on his body.
He longed for your touch. So soft, and delicate, and warm. He craved more of it and yet, despite being shameless and confident, he has not allowed himself to sleep bare even once since the day you and him were bound by the knot of matrimony. It would cross boundaries he wasn’t sure you’d wish to cross; it would make you uncomfortable, awkward maybe — and he liked the way your relationship looked like now. He liked the late evenings you talked quietly, alone and intimate in the warm embrace of sheets and your own house.
For you, he let go of the way he used to sleep before because you were worth the sacrifice, but now, you were gone for few days. You were sent on a mission away from Tokyo and the hours Satoru spent alone in bed, thinking of nothing more but your fingertips on top of his skin, made him desperate — and so, he allowed himself the comfort of soft cotton and silk.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
You were tired. Exhausted even, by the intense fight you had to pull through, by the uncomfortable nights spent in the dingy hotel room, by the humid weather and rains. In moments like this, there was nothing you envied more in the world than your husband’s ability to warp from one place to another, but you got lucky. Incredibly so, because Ijichi offered you a ride home two days earlier than you were supposed to head back and you thanked all gods and devils for that man’s kindness. He was willing to put on some more road just to get you home.
“Thank you so, so much, Ijichi,” you kissed his cheek — a ghost of a peck that made him all red and steamy and you felt giddy for a moment, seeing the tips of his ears turn crimson. Adorable. You liked him, he was dutiful, polite, trustworthy and constantly terrorized by your husband, so you were determined to at least be the Gojo he likes.
“You’re very welcome,” he mumbled and fixed the frames on the bridge of his nose, pushing them up with the tip of his pointer finger. “Have a good rest.”
“You too, Ijichi.”
Then, he was gone and you were stepping into the house with a deep sense of relief washing over you. Home sweet home. If you were to guess, it was most likely somewhere around 4 am, way too early for anyone to be up — especially your husband — so you gave it your all to stay as quiet as possible. The sun was just showing its first rays from way below the horizon line, crawling up with golden hues and breaking the nightly, navy darkness.
On your toes you moved across the house. It seemed as if Gojo was spending his time alone quite ordinarily — you saw a modest stack of empty takeout boxes, much less humble pile of candy wrappers and his uniform jacket thrown over the couch backrest, along with few other little items that you struggled to differentiate in the nocturnal haze.
You put down your bag, hung up your coat and pushed off the shoes. Ghosting your way towards the bathroom, you were desperate to wash away the combat residuals. You lathered up the shower gel in a rush, desperate to rest and sleep in the comfort of your own bed and then, wrapped in the towel, you tippy-toed to the bedroom, but—
“Came back earlier?”
—you truly didn’t expect to be met with a sight like this. Your husband was awake, just barely, most likely awaken by the water running in the bathroom. His eyes were closed, hidden underneath his forearm and shielded from the lights that were slowly creeping inside, between the dark curtains and onto his face. His body seemed relaxed between the sheets. The softest, gentlest lines of golden glimmer that painted its patterns over his uncovered chest and leg, his hip and one of the muscular arms. The duvet was covering less than half of him, hiding a part of his stomach, the other leg and—
“You’re staring.”
Satoru didn’t even have to look at you to know that your gaze was lingering on his frame. On his very, very naked frame, just barely concealed by the comforter.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, feeling the heat creeping up your cheeks and reaching the tips of your ears and you thanked the darkness for hiding it away. You walked around the bed, hoping to find your pajama where you left it and trying to force your head out of the gutter. You heard your husband letting out a deep exhale and then, a soft hum. His voice was as melodic as always, though you could tell how much sleepiness was laced into it.
Satoru should’ve notice you when you entered the area of your house, but he didn’t. Tired by his own job, by the classes and all of the meetings, he allowed himself to lower his guard and when he realized you’re home, he contemplated for a moment getting up and dressed, but he just didn’t want to.
“You’re exhausted, screw pajamas, just come here,” he said before he managed to think twice about it. It was a daring offer, inappropriate even and he opened his mouth to apologize for it, but then, you rendered him speechless.
Your weight felt good on top of him. You lay your body over his own with feathery gentleness and carefully maneuvered your way to rest on his chest completely. The touch of your skin flush to his own made his brain to short circuit, it felt divine, too good to be true and just so very right, he couldn’t say a word.
“Is that alright?” You asked quietly, pressing your ear right above his heart and letting out a breath that you held for a little too long. Your face felt hot, you were flushed and flustered but also oddly at ease with the current position and you wondered for a moment if it was the tiredness that made you so bold.
“More than that,” he replied, pulling the covers to hide you beneath them. He allowed one of his arms to snake around your waist and his lips to kiss the top of your head. “Rest. Sleep well, wifey.”
“Good night.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
10:19 AM
Satoru thought he was dreaming, but the weight on top of him felt too real. The soft scent of citrusy shower gel that lingered on your skin filled in his lungs each time he took a breath in and there was a tickle, he realized — every time his chest raised, a strand of your hair seemed to be moving against his jawline. You were not a dream.
He opened his eyes, blinking few times, adjusting them to the bright light that forced its way into the bedroom and then, he looked at you. You were still very deep asleep, he could tell based off the long inhales you were taking, slow and relaxed, fanning against his peck rhythmically. Your body was mostly on top of him, you were on his chest, your leg was between his and only your hips were resting on the bed. He still had his arm around you, as if making sure you were as close as possible.
It felt incredible. Intimate. It was everything he could have wished for. A touch, skin to skin, so intense it almost took his breath away. He felt nauseous at the thought, realizing that it’s the first time in his life, he’s that close to someone. So impossibly close that just a little bit more and you’d become a part of him. His heartbeat quickened.
It was so right. So awfully correct and at the same time, so very threatening. He felt helpless. Vulnerable. He was at your mercy, he was robbed of everything what made him the strongest, because at this very moment, he was bare. Uncovered before you, wrapped in an embrace that felt loving, that felt soothing, addicting, but if you only wished to hurt him, you’d—
You moved, shifting your weight a little bit, adjusting the position and the way your hand run down his side made him shiver. A soft sound escaped your throat when you let out a deeper exhale. He felt your fingers squeezing the flesh above his hip and then, you relaxed again.
“Your heart is beating so fast,” you whispered, not bothering to open your eyes, and Satoru held his breath. “Relax…”
And he chuckled. His chest vibrated below your ear and the adorable sound of displeasure you let out made him lose all of the tension. He turned, twisting his body inside your embrace to face you fully and he squeezed you with both of his arms, pulling you close. So impossibly close, and you whimpered, suddenly enclosed in a tight hold of your husband’s limbs. That was it for your sleep.
You could get used to it.
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Cross My Heart | KMG
Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (afab)
Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, friends to lovers (?), non-idol!AU
Rating: M (18+)
Warnings: pussy drunk mingyu, late night texting, biting/marking, fingering, lots of flirting, lots of teasing, grinding/dry humping, dirty talk, cunnilingus, face sitting, come eating, hand job, mingyu's a messy boy, OC is needy and mingyu loves it, mingyu has maybe the tiniest bit of a praise kink, use of pet names - pretty, mingyu requests death by pussy
Word Count: 5.2k
Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me
Summary: Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.
Text Prompt:
You: I can’t stand you
Mingyu: Then sit on my face
A/N: Hiiiii I'm writing for svt now and I'm starting with Mingyu because he's driving me insane. This is actually the first in a planned series of 13 svt fics based on text prompts. I'm fully in my self-indulgent era, so this is for everyone who, like me, needs some munch 'Gyu right about now 👅
Unbeta'd as usual. If you like this and want more svt fics from me, please let me know! I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕
SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist
It’s finally here. After months of planning, you and your friends have flown halfway around the world for a week of vacation. The six of you arrived just a few hours ago, and after the long flight, the long wait at the airport for your luggage, and the long drive to the hotel, you’re exhausted.
Well, mentally you’re worn out, at least. Your body? Is still on your old timezone, where it’s currently tomorrow morning. So it thinks that you need to be awake, even though it’s night where you are. You had stayed awake the entire flight here in order to avoid this very problem.
Fucking jet lag got you anyway.
Unlike you, Seungcheol and Vernon are having no issue sleeping. The three of you are sharing one room, while Minghao, Wonwoo, and Mingyu are sharing another. You glance over at the two lumps tucked in their beds, snoring away like you would be if your body wasn’t so confused.
Because you’re trying to be a good friend and let them sleep, you’re lying on your bed, scrolling lazily through your various social media apps. You could watch something, but you don’t really have the focus right now. Yet you want something pleasing to look at. Something to mindlessly enjoy while you wait for exhaustion to overwhelm you.
So, naturally, you turn to your favorite nightly pastime - scrolling through your social media apps, looking for any new posts from Mingyu.
It’s an addiction, borne out of your raging crush on your friend. Well, really, he’s Minghao’s friend, you don’t know him as well as you do the others, but still. You’re friendly enough around each other. Which is because Mingyu is so nice, such a sweet and funny guy who always makes you feel more than welcome whenever he’s around.
He’s also a blatant flirt. At first, his cocky smiles and playful words made you think he might be interested in more than just being your friend, but it wasn’t long before you realized he’s like that with everyone. So you tamped down the hope that burned in your chest, leaving only a simmering crush to smolder forever.
It’s morning back home, where most of your friends have barely started their days, so your feed is fairly dead. There are a few photos from Wonwoo from the flight, including one of Minghao sleeping with his mouth open that you immediately save to your favorites, a couple from Vernon, and, of course, several from Mingyu. You tap into his page.
Mingyu’s an avid photographer, particularly of beautiful things - breathtaking landscapes, delicious meals, himself. Mostly himself, to be honest. Not that you’re complaining. It’s maybe the most mutually beneficial relationship you’ve ever been in. Mingyu loves to provide pictures of himself. You love to admire them. A win-win all around.
You tap back to home and refresh your feed. A new post appears, from Mingyu. The jet lag must be getting to him, too, if he’s awake and posting right now. The photo is another selfie, this time of him lying in bed, one arm resting behind his head, showing off a perfectly sculpted bicep. God. Could he be more gorgeous?
Clicking into his page again, you rub your thumb over the screen to make his photos flip by in an endless parade of hot Mingyus. It’s ridiculous, you muse, watching picture after picture roll by, to think about how much time Mingyu must spend on these photos. Making sure he’s got the perfect lighting to bounce off his muscles just right in those gym selfies. Or figuring out the best angle to show off that sharp jawline of his. Just ridiculous. And yet, every second isn’t spent in vain, considering how the photos drew you in like shiny trinkets to your magpie eye.
It would be so easy to think of Mingyu as a modern day Narcissus, endlessly snapping selfies, drowning in his own reflection on his phone. But he’s never struck you as conceited. It’s something else - a desire for connection, perhaps. A need for-
A tiny heart floats up your screen and you gasp. Shit. You just liked the post the scroll stopped on - one of his many gym selfies, frame zoomed in on his torso, his hand clutching the bottom of his shirt to show off his rippling abs.
Your eye drifts to the date of the photo. Posted eight months ago.
Quick as lightning, you hit the screen again, shattering the little heart icon. Your pulse is beating too fast. There’s no need to panic. He couldn’t have seen that. Maybe you’re overreacting, but no one needs to know you’re lurking in his profile in the middle of the night, especially not him.
A notification drops down over Mingyu’s face. A message.
Mingyu: Someone’s up late.
Ah, damn. You were too slow. And now he’s in your DMs.
After taking a moment to shriek quietly into your pillow, you write back.
You: Can’t sleep
Mingyu: Same. Jet lag’s got me fucked up
Mingyu: You know what always helps when I can’t sleep?
You: What?
Mingyu: Creeping through someone’s old photos
Even though he’s not here looking at you, your neck flames with embarrassment anyway. You could play it cool. If only you knew how to do that.
You: Shut up
Mingyu: It’s ok, I’m flattered
You: Oh fuck off
Mingyu: No really, I am
Mingyu: I like that you want me so bad
Pressing your mouth firmly into your pillow, you swallow another screech. Here we go. Right into the flirting. You can’t handle this right now.
You: Idk what you’re talking about
You: It was an accident
Mingyu: Oh you were accidentally admiring me?
You: How did you even notice? Are you just staring at your phone, waiting for attention?
Mingyu: I mean yeah
You snort.
You: You’re ridiculous
Mingyu: Maybe. But I’m honest about it
You: I’ll give you that
A few seconds go by, then a minute, then two. Maybe you’re boring him. Maybe he’s found something else to entertain him. Or someone else.
When the next notification comes in, you jolt a little.
Mingyu: What else will you give me?
And now your heart does a funny jump as you stare at his words. God, what a question. How you wish he were asking for real, and not just being playful, like he always is.
Would it be too real to reply with the truth? “Whatever you want?”
You: I don’t know
You: What do you want?
Mingyu: What if I say you?
Suddenly you don’t understand words.
You: Why would you say that?
Mingyu: Because it’s my answer
Mingyu: I’m being honest again
You: That’s the jet lag talking
Mingyu: Oh come on
Mingyu: You really don’t know?
You: Know what??
Mingyu: How I feel about you
Is he being serious right now??
You: If this is a joke I don’t get it
Mingyu: Not a joke
Mingyu: Hold on
The notification icon on your app suddenly lights up. One heart. Two. Three four five. You open your notifications and immediately start laughing. Mingyu’s going through your oldest photos and liking them, one by one.
Mingyu: See? I’m obsessed with you
Seungcheol grunts in his sleep, and you press your arm harder over your mouth, trying to muffle yourself better.
You: You’re so annoying, oh my god
Mingyu: So annoying that you can’t stop looking at my photos at 1 am?
Mingyu: Or flirting with me?
You: Is that what’s happening? Are we flirting?
Mingyu: Ok don’t act like you don’t know
Mingyu: I flirt with you all the time
You: You flirt with EVERYONE all the time
Mingyu: Yeah but I only mean it with you
Like any other time this happens, any time his words make your head spin, you put on the brakes, stopping before you start to believe you might have a chance.
You: You’re so dumb
Mingyu: Are you really going to pretend you’re not enjoying this?
You: Who said I’m pretending?
Mingyu: Me. I know you’re loving this
Mingyu: Because you want me soooooo bad
You: Shut uppppp
Mingyu: Go on, yell at me
Mingyu: You’re cute when you’re mad
You: No really
You: I can’t stand you
Mingyu: Then sit on my face
Your mouth falls open, an amused huff of air escaping in a befuddled laugh at his unexpected response.
You: What?
Mingyu: Come shut me up. Sit on my face.
You’re blinking so hard, you can hear your eyelids clapping together.
You: Fuck off. Stop playing.
Mingyu: Who’s playing? I’m serious
Mingyu: Smother me with those gorgeous thighs of yours. I’ll go out a happy man.
Your gorgeous thighs? He’s never said anything like that before. What the fuck is happening.
You can’t help but picture it - him lying on his bed, you kneeling over him, fingers tangled in his dark hair as you ride that pouty little mouth of his. It’s not the first time you’ve fantasized about it, but it’s the first time the vision has felt… possible.
Mingyu: No response? You’re just gonna leave me hanging like this?
You: Don’t tease me
Mingyu: Trust me, there are a million ways I’d love to tease you, but this isn’t one
You lay down again, rolling onto your side, curling in on yourself, like you’re trying to contain all the excitement rushing through your veins, keep it from spilling out and over into the room where your friends are still sleeping.
You: You’re really serious?
Mingyu: Cross my heart and hope to die
Mingyu: Between your legs
Again you laugh.
You: You’re such an idiot
Mingyu: Does that mean you’re not coming over?
You: Like right now??
Mingyu: Why not?
Mingyu: Wonwoo and Minghao both slept on the plane. They went out exploring
Mingyu: I’ve got the room to myself
You bite your lip, a little harder than you normally would, the sharp sting confirming that you are not dreaming and this is, in actual fact, happening right now.
You: I guess if I’m not sleeping anytime soon
In the dim light from your phone, you eye the path to the door. You can easily make it out of the room without waking anyone. Should you so decide.
You: I could come over
Mingyu: I promise I’ll make it so good for you
Mingyu: Eat that pussy like you deserve. Make you cum on my tongue over and over
You inhale sharply. He’s definitely never talked about your pussy like that before. Reading his words has you positively throbbing.
Mingyu: Please, just let me taste you
What else is there to say to that but -
You: I’m coming over
It’s a short walk to Mingyu’s room. A rush of anticipation hits you as you raise your hand to knock. It doesn’t take long for the door to open, bringing you face to face with the man whose social media you can’t stop stalking. Mingyu’s shirtless, grey sweatpants hanging alarmingly low on his hips, and if you weren’t already planning on crushing him with your thighs, this insta thirst trap of an outfit would push you right over the edge.
“That was fast,” he laughs, stepping aside to let you in. “Did you run down the hall?”
“I thought I told you to shut up,” you shoot back.
“And I thought I told you to make me,” he smirks, reaching for you at the same time you reach for him, practically mashing his teeth against your lips as he pulls you in for a kiss. Despite what he just said, he’s kissing you, too eager to wait for you to do what he demands.
It’s rough and messy, all teeth and tongue, both of you doing your fair share to keep the other silent. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say speechless, because Mingyu’s definitely not being quiet, moaning into your mouth, and you’re certainly whining loud enough for the other rooms to hear you.
He presses you back into the door, chest to chest, hip to hip. You tilt your head and he follows, chasing your mouth, as if he’s needing another taste. Your hands roam over his biceps, his shoulders, his neck, covering every inch of warm skin that’s exposed, and he slips his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly tight. Not for one second do your lips part. This is the type of kiss you’ve always read about in your favorite stories - the one that makes your knees weak, makes your head float, makes you forget everything but Mingyu.
It’s delicious. It’s amazing. It’s every superlative you can think of. But it’s not enough. You want more. Part of you wants to tell him to get on with it, take you to bed, because you’re here to make him eat his words by eating you, but the other part isn’t about to quit kissing him any time soon.
Thankfully, Mingyu takes care of your dilemma by eliminating the choice. Without warning, he bends his knees and lifts you, big hands secure on your thighs to hold you close to him. Okay, now it’s like one of your stories, the way he lifts you like you’re lighter than air. You’d swoon if you weren’t so busy licking into his lips. All that time in the gym is really paying off
He carries you to his bed, displaying his impressive thigh strength by slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, bringing you into his lap. You loop your arms around his shoulders, desperately seeking his mouth, as if the 0.2 seconds between kisses might kill you, which, honestly, it feels like it might, and you’ve never been in this situation before, making out with the man of your dreams, so for all you know, it will, so why risk it?
“Stop me if I’m going too fast,” he says between kisses.
“You can go as fast as you want,” you reply, without even a second’s pause. “Just don’t stop.”
“Damn, and here I was worried I was coming off too excited,” he grins, face lighting up in delight. Then he kisses your cheek, whispering against your skin at your offended huff. “It’s okay, I like how needy you are for me.”
“Shut up,” you groan, but you know he felt the way you shuddered, so you give up the weak protests and start kissing him again, twisting your fingers in his hair to keep him close.
Mingyu finally stops laughing when you take his bottom lip between your own, sucking and licking at the plump skin. With a groan, he digs his fingers into your sides, and he starts to guide you back and forth, rolling you over the eye-catching bulge in his sweatpants. It’s a sight that makes you clench, thinking about how much you want to sit on it now, just pull him out and ride, too needy to feel him inside you to even take your clothes off.
But again, you want more. You want what he’d promised earlier.
He nips his way down your throat until his mouth latches at the base of your neck, sucking and biting, and you whimper, squirming in his hold. “
‘Gyu, please!”
“Please what?”
He doesn’t lift his head, too absorbed in sinking his vampire-like canines into your soft skin, not sharp enough to pierce, just hard enough that you know you’ll have bruises blooming there tomorrow, little souvenirs of this moment.
Please everything, you think. You want it all, whatever he’s willing to give, you’ll take. You’re feeling greedy as fuck right now.
“I want what you promised me.”
“Hold on,” he intones seriously, right before laving his tongue over a fresh mark. “Let a man at death’s door enjoy his last moments.”
“Oh my god, you’re so stupid,” you groan, grabbing his face and smashing your lips together. He’s just - just such an idiot, such a stupid sexy idiot and you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.
“Fine,” he says after a few minutes of frantic making out, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, hands circling around your ass, squeezing as he pulls you closer. “Time for my last meal.”
He kisses away your embarrassingly pleased moan, and then he maneuvers the two of you around so he’s lying on the bed on his back and you’re straddling him. As he watches with rapt attention, you peel off your shirt. Since you’d been dressed for bed, you hadn’t bothered to throw on a bra. Judging from Mingyu’s expression, you made the right call.
“Pretty,” he breathes out, wide eyes finding yours, and you have to take a beat, have to take a moment to sit and let the reality of the situation wash over you. The two of you are here, together, in this hotel room half a world away from home. Both wanting this. It’s clear to you now just how eager Mingyu’s been since you walked in. He wasn’t lying - he wants you just as much as you want him.
With this new understanding, you stand up to slide your shorts and panties off in one go, before straddling him again, and lowering yourself for another kiss. Immediately, his arms are around you, gliding down your back, all the way to your bare ass, taking the biggest handfuls he can.
“You drive me insane. So pretty, so hot.”
Mingyu’s words kick the simmering heat in your gut into a full blown fire. You moan into his kiss, grinding yourself against him. One of his hands grips your side, helping you chase the friction, while the other slips between your bodies. When his fingers brush your inner thigh, he lets out a strangled groan. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”
“Your fault,” you gasp, lips fervently pressing against his, licking at the seam of his mouth until he allows you in, so you can roll your tongue over his like you roll your hips.
“Then allow me to make it up to you,” he grins, long fingers cupping your mound, trapping the heat there in his palm as he rubs it against you. You keen, thighs already twitching. You’re going to lose your mind before you even get to his face.
You’re not alone in that feeling, as he suddenly reaches for your thighs, urging you to crawl up his body. “Get up here, please,” he begs, flat out begs you, and you slide forward as fast as you can. You need his mouth, right now.
Hovering over him is a little surreal - MIngyu’s big brown eyes are gazing up at you in a perfect replication of your favorite daydream, only it’s so much better than you’d ever imagined, because the expression he wears is one of complete awe, like he’s the one living out his fantasy. Again you feel bold, so you run your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scraping over his scalp. He moans quietly, low in his throat, like he’s trying to hold it in, and your mouth quirks in a half smile as you kneel.
“Nice knowing you, ‘Gyu.”
He hums a happy note, lips vibrating lightly just as your cunt reaches them, and you moan quietly. You don’t settle all the way down, because as much as you were playing along with this whole death-by-pussy dream of his, you are slightly worried that you might actually suffocate him, if not because of your weight than because of your dire need, that you might get too lost in the aching desire that’s building inside you, spurred on by the way he’s brushing the lower half of his face and down your folds, just breathing you in, teasing you with his touches but not giving you what you so desperately want.
“‘Gyu,” you whine, tilting your pelvis forward, to catch his tongue as he traces your inner thigh, leaving a trail of saliva behind. He blows a puff of air across the wetness, sending goosebumps running at the cooling sensation.
When you try to shift again, he’s quick to wrap his hands up around your hips, holding you still. Not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to let you know - he’s in charge now.
“Stay still, pretty,” he murmurs, tenderly pressing a kiss into your skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise. Cross my heart, remember?”
With that reminder, he pulls you down further onto his face. His tongue slides into you, nose bumping your clit, and you whimper, hands flailing at your sides, seeking something to cling to, finding nothing but the warm air around you. The pressure on the sensitive bud combining with the wet hot muscle plunging between your slick folds is overwhelming in the best way.
“‘Gyu, oh, that’s so good!”
Mingyu nods his head vigorously, nudging his nose around, letting his tongue drag up and down your slit. It almost feels like he’s agreeing with you, backed up by the way he grunts brokenly, this deep rumble in his chest that gets strangled halfway through his throat.
You’re not sure at what point you start thrust your hips. Mingyu helps you find the right pace, big hands guiding you forward and back, forward and back, until you feel the rhythm all the way from your ears to your toes.
As his mouth slides up to suckle on your clit, his left hand also snakes upwards, cupping your right breast, thumb rolling over your puckered nipple. You shudder, nerves sizzling like power lines, lit up by his every touch.
“‘Gyu…” Mingyu’s mouth pulls another whine from you. You glance down, catching the furrow in his brow, the sweat dripping down his temples. “Oh my god.”
“Mmmmphf,” Mingyu agrees, or so you assume, unable to understand anything he might be mumbling into you. A particularly sharp suck on your pulsating clit makes your back arch, and Mingyu’s hand falls from your chest, disappearing behind you.
The sudden rustling of fabric draws your attention. You glance over your shoulder, only to whimper when you catch sight of Mingyu’s hand stroking his erection, band of his sweatpants hastily shoved down, stiff cock so flushed it brings a matching heat to your neck.
If you were more limber, you’d reach for him, give him a helping hand, but you can’t stay twisted around for long, not when Mingyu’s tongue makes you refocus on his mouth. It’s too difficult to think about anything else right now but the way he keeps plunging inside you, using the thick muscle to fuck you shallowly.
You can’t stop mewling like a cat in heat, rutting back and forth over Mingyu’s tongue. Even in your daze, it doesn’t escape your attention that Mingyu’s absolutely pussy drunk at this point, depraved moans buzzing endlessly against your most sensitive spots because he refuses to detach his mouth from you long enough to let them escape. Every muffled note reverberates deep in your core, joins the tense chord that’s building inside you to a crescendo.
“‘Gyu, please.”
At the sound of your plea, Mingyu stops stroking himself, bringing his hand around to find your clit, middle finger drawing circles around and around and around.
When you double over, hands sinking into the plush bedding on either side of Mingyu’s head, he grunts, tipping his head to the side so he can speak. “You okay?”
“Fuck, Mingyu, ‘m good,” you giggle, suddenly hit by a burst of glee, perhaps due to the lack of oxygen in your head, since all the blood in your body is concentrated in your clit right now. “I’m having an amazing night.”
Mingyu hums again, sounding very pleased, and you meet his gaze, and suddenly you wish his phone was nearby, so you could snap a photo, because this look - hair mussed and clinging to his forehead, pupils blown, nose to chin coated in your glistening wetness - this is a look worth capturing.
“Yeah, me too,” he says, chest heaving as he catches his breath, and the sincerity in his voice steals your own away. If you had any nerve, you’d confess something right now, something you weren’t planning on telling him tonight or tomorrow or maybe ever. But you keep silent, only breathing a tiny exhale of surprise as he slides out from under you, and nudges you onto your back.
Mingyu folds you in half easily, because you’re giving no resistance, letting him shape you the way he desires, and then his mouth is on you again. Now that he's lying facedown between your legs, he’s able to get some much-desired friction without using his hands, grinding his neglected cock into the bed as he concentrates on you.
His tongue glides over your throbbing nub again, and then his right hand ghosts over your slit. You whimper a soft “Please,” and that’s all he needs to slide his finger inside. The intrusion has you squirming, urging him silently to go deeper, and to your relief, he obliges. But he also locks his other arm over your legs, holding them so you can’t keep bucking your hips up.
“I said, stay still,” he mumbles, with no anger or heat behind it, just amusement, laced with a slight tinge of cockiness. He knows he’s frustrating you, judging by the curl of his lips as he plunges his finger in and out slowly, way too slowly, teasing you with what you need most. You try to press your hips down onto his hand, to make him glide faster, but he just leans into you slightly, big arm stopping your movements.
Your whine is beyond petulant. “Don’t tease me!”
“Pretty, I promise you, when I tease you, you’ll know.”
And then he adds his middle finger, curling both, pressing on the most sensitive spot on your inner wall. Over and over, his fingers flutter, massaging until starlight bursts behind your eyelids.
“It’ll be something like this.”
He withdraws his hand.
“Gyuuuuuu.”
If he was slightly cocky earlier, he’s fully arrogant now, face breaking into a wide grin while he laughs. “Wow, so whiny. You do want me bad.”
“I swear to god if you dohhhhHHH-”
You break off in a moan when he lowers his face again, loudly lapping at your wetness. Clever fingers alternate between scissoring and stroking, following the changes in your breathing, and you hope that he’s close to being satiated, because you’re teetering on the edge of your climax, only the slightest bit more stimulation necessary to push you over.
“Mingyu. Mingyu, I’m gonna cum.” You open your eyes, raising your head enough to look at him, to watch with a dropped jaw as he buries his face in your cunt, his own eyes closed in ecstasy, and oh, that’s it - “Oh god, I’m gonna cum!”
Your warning cry - though clearly appreciated by Mingyu, who groans in answering refrain, hips humping the bed furiously - is ultimately unnecessary, given how hard your walls suddenly clench around his fingers. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, fingerfucking you through your orgasm as your lower half trembles beneath his heavy arm. He holds you in place as best he can, sweetly kissing your clit, while you wail and writhe, pressing your palm into your mouth to keep your cries from waking the rooms around you.
Eventually your tremors slow, turning into occasional twitches, before your body finally relaxes. Mingyu continues to lap at you, every pass of his tongue getting lighter and lighter, until he lifts his head. He’s the perfect image of lust, eyes dark and desirous, and you claw at his shoulders, needing him close again.
“Kiss me.”
He wipes his face with the back of his hand, smearing you over himself more as he rises up to meet you. His cock is hard between you, and you moan, knowing that you did that, that he got this turned on just from eating you out, and extend your fingers to wrap around him.
The unbidden sound he utters when you take his cock and slide it through your soaking folds, coating it in your wetness, is the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard.
“Careful, pretty,” he pants, looking down at your hand. Under his close gaze, you circle the head of his cock before rubbing your thumb over and around the slit there. “‘M close.”
“Wanna make you come, ‘Gyu,” you tell him, and he hisses, hips bucking into your grip.
“Fuck.” His long fingers cover yours, guiding you into a faster pace. “But I’m gonna make a mess.”
“Do it. Make a mess.” The need to make him completely fall apart takes possession of you, makes you say things you’ve never said to anyone else. “Come all over me.”
Mingyu whines, chin dropping to his chest. He’s barely blinking as he stares at your entwined hands.
“Pretty… don’t say that….”
“Please, ‘Gyu.” All shame has fled your body. “I want it.”
No further encouragement is needed. Mingyu grunts a few times before he’s painting your stomach in so much white, in little drops and big splashes, doing exactly what you told him, eyes rolling back in his head as he does.
When his high abates, he sits back on his heels, gazing at the mess he created, all the sticky sweat and semen that covers your body. A delirious thought comes to you. Is the sight beautiful enough for him to want to take a picture?
“Wow,” he murmurs after a moment, shaking his head. “You’re even prettier when you’re covered in me.”
His dead serious expression is enough to break the haze of lust hanging over you. You throw your arm over your face, too flustered to look at him. “‘Gyuuuuu!”
“Changed my mind, I’m calling you ‘whiny' from now on.” The bed shifts as Mingyu rises. He laughs all the way to and from the bathroom, laughs even harder when you glare at him, reaching for the towel he holds. He surprises you by nudging your hand away. “Let me.”
His touch is so gentle as he wipes away his mess, then your own. When you’re both clean enough, he lays on his side, draping his arm over you. “Think you can sleep now?”
Oh, you can sleep. You’re feeling satiated in a way you haven’t for a long time, and now that the rush has worn off, you could knock right out. You should probably go back to your room, ride this calm wave right into sleep, not let yourself get too excited at the thought that this vacation might be the best one ever.
Instead, you grin, sliding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Yeah. But I don’t want to.”
“Oh?” Mingyu’s smile mirrors yours. “What do you wanna do instead?”
“I might have some ideas.”
He lets you pull him down for a kiss, humming eagerly.
“Tell me what you want, pre-”
A sharp rap on the door startles you both.
“Dude, don’t you dare!” Minghao hisses through the wood. “We’ve been out here forever!”
If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕
© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.
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Sleeping, Dancing and Mistletoe
Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Times when people found evidence that you and Logan were possibly a couple, and the one time you both finally confirmed it.
Disclaimer: Mostly fluff, mentions/illusions to sex, Logan checking you out. Couple of swear words here and there. This has been unfinished in my drafts for at least a week so...yeah. This is finished. little Christmas at the end. Not Proof Read.
For what felt like the thirtieth time in the hour, you turned over with a huff and pressed your pillow to your ears, trying to muffle the sounds coming from next door.
And just as it finally died down, you sighed and was just about to thank some ancient being for hearing your prayers when…it started again.
“That’s it.”
Changing out of your longer pyjama bottoms and into some sleep shorts, you made your way out of your room, keeping your footsteps as quiet as you could until the noises faded away and you started to reach your intended room.
Opening up the door, you found exactly what you were looking for.
Shaking his shoulder as he lay on his stomach, you whispered his name, hoping he’d hear you.
“Logan.” You shook him for a third time. “Logan.”
Nothing.
With another sigh, you slapped his face gently and said his name once more, a little louder and firmer.
“Logan.”
Finally, he groaned. “What?”
His voice was muffled by his pillow but you could hear him just well enough. Or maybe you were just used to his grunts that they were starting to become their own language you could understand.
“Move over. I’m sleeping here tonight.”
“What’s wrong with your bed?”
“Nothing.”
“Then go and sleep there.” Logan turned his head away from you and scrunched up his pillow beneath his head.
“I can’t. My neighbours have decided tonight is Valentine’s Day 2.0.”
You pushed half of his body with your hands until he finally got the cue to turn over.
“Too much information.”
You shook your head, “Too much information is what I’ve been hearing for the last hour.”
Finally, Logan rolled onto his back, his covers covering his bottom half, and groaned. “Fine.”
“Thank you.”
Logan straightened himself in his bed, giving you room to get in beside him. And the minute you touched his covers, you were glad you had changed into shorts.
Logan was like a furnace. Just constant heat radiating from his body and for as much as it, at times, got too hot to stand near him, he was also, in your opinion, the best person to fall asleep beside.
“Just shut up and go to sleep.”
Laying on your side, it wasn’t long until you closed your eyes, thankful that you could hear nothing other than Logan’s steady breathing and the distant clock down the hall that was forever ticking.
However, just before you fully drifted off, you felt Logan’s hand take hold of yours and you smiled.
He could be gruff all he liked, but when it came to you, he could be a softie.
By the time morning rolled around, Storm was in search of both yourself and Logan. So, when she found your bed empty and cold, she figured Logan would know where you were.
But he was asleep.
Right beside you.
Storm leaned against the door frame for a while, taking in the picture in front of her.
Logan was fast asleep, something that was a miracle in itself, with you right beside him, your head turned towards the windows in his room, his own looking towards you, all the while, his arm slung over your midsection and one of your own hands, holding his.
“Storm- what are you- Oh.”
Jean looked inside.
“Looks like someone had a good night.” She smiled before looking back at Storm. “Do you think we can finally ask if they’re together?”
“I’d say this is confirmation enough.”
You shifted in your sleep as did Logan, and the two girls hid behind the corner for a moment.
You turned your head and the rest of your body towards Logan, all the while his arm held you in a stronger grip and pulled you towards him.
It took you a moment but you finally opened your eyes, adjusting to the light before your vision finally cleared on a sleeping Logan.
For a moment, you allowed the hand between you both to reach up and brush the stray hairs from his eyes. It was rare you ever got to see Logan this…calm.
Serene.
Rested.
Unknowingly, you started to run your left thumb over Logan’s arm that still held onto you.
Then his fingers twitched, running over the exposed skin at the bottom of your back.
“Are you watching me sleep?” His voice was rough, the first words in the morning.
“Not anymore,” you smiled, brushing the final parts of his hair out of his face.
“Thanks for letting me stay.”
Then a cough came from the door.
Logan groaned. “Is this a new hobby; watching people sleep?”
Jean and Storm laughed from the door. “You two look cosy.”
You lifted your head and glared at Jean. “There is one reason I’m here. Maybe I think it’s time you make an investment in soundproof walls.”
Jean turned a little red and Storm laughed.
“Look, we’ve got a busy day. You can kiss your boyfriend later.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you called out just as Logan called; “She’s not my girlfriend.”
Storm and Jean nodded and just as Jean snapped a picture, she sent it to both yourself and Logan as they walked away.
“Sure.”
Leaning up, Logan reached for his phone to see the notification pop up before he placed it back down and you climbed out of bed.
“They’re got a point.”
“About us being a couple?”
You threw a t-shirt at Logan. “Having a busy day.”
Logan laughed a little, scrubbing his face as he watched you leave his room before he reached behind him and took hold of his phone once more.
Jean and Storm were right.
From the picture…they did look like a couple.
A couple of days passed and you were sitting in the quiet living room, the fires on both sides roaring.
All classes had been finished for two days and some kids had returned home for the holidays, which meant you had some free time on your hands.
And for you, that meant finally reading.
Until you sensed someone stood behind you.
“If you want to know what happens, you could just ask me.”
Logan plucked the book from your hands and circled around the sofa before coming to sit down beside you.
“Logan! Give it back.”
“I want to see what it’s about.”
You sighed and sat up, “It’s a romance, Logan.”
“A romance?” Logan had a hint of a smirk on his face. “Like the…trashy kind?”
“Like the romantic kind.”
Logan looked at you and smiled. “The trashy kind.”
You rolled your eyes and took the book back from him, leaving him to fix the blanket so it rested over both of you. He placed his arm over the back of the sofa, allowing you to lean into him, whether you noticed you were doing so or not.
“Just because you might not believe in romance, doesn’t mean the rest of us are the same.”
“I believe in romance.”
“Yeah, right.”
Logan couldn’t help but smile. “What?”
“The Wolverine,” you said with a deep voice. “Believes in romance?”
Logan nodded. “Occasionally.”
“Occasionally?”
“Do you just like repeating everything I say?”
You nodded and smiled. “Occasionally.”
Logan rolled his eyes and took the book back from you and read a line out loud.
“People really talk like this?”
You leaned into Logan. “No, but in a book it’s not so bad. Go on, read some more.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
You nodded. “You’re like my own personal audiobook.”
Logan gave a short smile before getting a little cosier and continued reading out loud.
It wasn’t long before Logan found you asleep against him and he shifted in order to avoid you getting a crick in your neck.
“Keep reading.”
“I thought you were asleep.”
“Now I’m awake.”
“Fine, just be quiet.”
You gave a fake salute. “Yes, sir.”
Holding his arm around your body that was pressed between himself and the sofa, Logan quickly kissed the top of your head and went back to reading.
And ten minutes later, you were asleep.
And so was he.
An hour passed before someone found either of you, but this time, it was Scott and Bobby.
“They might be in- oh. What do we have here?”
“Oh my god, Rouge has to see this. I told her they were together.”
Bobby rushed off and soon returned, pulling Rouge with him.
“What is it?” Then she gasped.
“Believe me now?”
And what Rouge saw made her smile.
On the slightly too small sofa for Logan, you lay both between him and the sofa, as well as partly on him with your hand a little over his heart. His head was turned towards you. The blanket had fallen a little, so she reached over and pulled it up both of you before turning around and throwing a log onto the fire.
“Come on, let's leave them.”
“But-”
“No, you are not going to disturb them. Come on.”
Rouge dragged the pair out and closed the door behind her.
The third time people suspected you and Logan were an item was one late evening in October.
Half of the kids were playing outside with all the freshly fallen leaves, whilst some of the older kids helped them find different critters and point them out, and build them habitats. The rest of the kids were either in their rooms or studying.
Save for two.
Bobby and Rouge were hiding outside of the kitchen watching yourself and Logan cook.
“I didn’t even know he knew how to…chop. Let alone cook.”
“You should have more faith in him.”
“Come on, Rouge. You can’t tell me you weren't thinking it, too.”
And she couldn’t. Because she was.
Meanwhile inside the kitchen, Logan was watching you from the kitchen island as he continued chopping the veg.
There was something different about you. From the way you practically danced around the kitchen finding the different items for the recipe, to just…you. Whilst he was (semi) shirtless, just having his zipper hoodie on, along with his jeans and socks. He would have been fully dressed, except you had come and ambushed him in his room – even though you denied the word “ambushed” – to get him to help.
And you were just simply in your pyjamas (of sorts) along with one of his zipper hoodies.
“Bub,”
Logan laid down his knife and walked over to you as you stood by the stove, standing a little higher to see how much water was left in the pot at the back.
You hummed a questioned response, but was met with a question…you didn’t expect.
“Dance with me?”
“What?”
Logan smiled lightly as he pulled the wooden spoon from your hand and pulled you closer to him, despite him walking backwards.
“Come on,” his voice in a light whisper. “Dance with me.”
“Didn’t take you for a dancer.”
Outside the door, Bobby and Rouge mouthed to each other; “They’re dancing.”
And you both were.
Gently swaying to the music for a while, you allowed Logan to lead you around a small space in the centre of the kitchen.
“We’re gonna burn the sauce.”
Logan gave a slight smile at you as he spun you out and back in, “We’re not gonna burn the sauce.”
“Logan.”
“Can’t you ever just enjoy a moment?”
“When that moment doesn’t include burning the house down, yes.”
“Bit of a jump, don’t you think, from burning the sauce.”
“Ha, so you agree. We’re gonna burn the sauce.”
Moving over, Logan turned down the heat on one of the pans before taking your hand back into his. “Now we won’t.”
Bobby and Rouge watched, in shock, the rest.
For one, Logan knew how to dance? Since when? And since when did he…cook and dance in the kitchen? Unless…
Then Logan did something even you didn’t expect.
He dipped you.
You hand tightened its grip on Logan’s arm as you let out a small, if a little nervous, laugh.
Logan had been full of surprises recently. From the impromptu audiobook session in which you woke up in his arms, to him not only dropping off a cup of coffee during your break from teaching but also a freshly baked muffin.
And now he was dancing with you in the kitchen.
And dipping you.
When you had rushed him out of his room to help you cook, you hadn’t expected him to know the recipe for the sauce from the top of his head. Something he just happened to rattle off whilst you were looking for the cooking notebook that should have been in the cupboard beside the oven. Let alone be the one to ask to dance in the kitchen, and dip you.
Bring you back up, both of you gave a slight chuckle as you turned around, the music slowly fading away in the background.
“Logan…”
Looking at him, you forgot what you were going to say.
Had his eyes always had so much green in them?
Logan’s palm became warm against your back as it pressed further into you. Or maybe you pressed further into him and he just held you tighter.
Slowly, your hand left his bicep and trailed towards his chest all the while your eyes studied his face. You’d known him for years and seen him a thousand times or more.
So why did now feel like you were seeing him for the first time? Noticing him? Noticing each particle he was made up of that allowed him to sway with you in the kitchen to the music that had changed on the radio?
Only, before the space between yourself and Logan became any more closer, a noise came from outside the door.
A sneeze.
A sneeze that shocked you and Logan back into reality.
Still holding you, Logan looked towards the door and gave a hint of a smile when he saw the flash of white disappear behind the beam.
Realising what was happening, you lowered yourself back to the ground and slowly stepped out of Logan’s arms. “We should finish up.”
Logan nodded in agreement, however did look back at you when you got back to the stove, not noticing you do the same a few moments later, watching him pick up the rest of the veg and toss it into the collider to be washed.
Time passed and after more music, more conversation - including a burnt tongue from when you had shoved a wooden spoon with fresh sauce on, into Logan’s mouth for him to try - and a lot of scrubbing later, you found Logan sitting inside the library and collapsed next to him.
“Good news, the kids loved the food,” you told Logan. “Double good news; Jean and Scott are on cooking duty tomorrow.”
“Thank fuck.”
“Thank you for helping me.” Turning to look at Logan, you found him already looking.
“You did ambush me.”
“I didn’t ambush you.”
“I wasn’t dressed.” Logan examined himself. “Technically, I’m still not.”
You rolled your eyes with a slight smile. “Fine. Maybe it was a mini, tiny, miniscule ambush.”
You made a small space between your fingers. “Like this big of an ambush.”
Logan looked at you, at your fingers and then back to you in slight disgust before moving your fingers wider with his own.
“That big of an ambush.”
You rolled your eyes and dropped your hand. “And they say us women are dramatic.”
It was Logan’s turn to roll his eyes. However, as he did so, his arm wrapped around you, and pulled you back into him and the sofa.
“Just shut the fuck up for a minute and listen.”
You did so.
“I don’t hear anything.”
“That’s the point.” Logan’s eyes were shut as his head rested on the back of the sofa.
Eventually you gave a shrug and joined him.
An hour later, Storm found you both fast asleep beside one another so with a knowing smile, she found a blanket, covered you both up and closed the door behind her. But not before reminding herself she needed to get verbal confirmation from you both.
She wasn’t handing over any money to Jean and Xavier until she had verbal confirmation of what exactly was going on between you two.
And she didn’t have to wait long…at least in the long run, she didn’t have to wait long.
Until then, there were plenty more incidents of falling asleep next to each other, bringing each other coffee, dancing to music in the kitchen, smiling and laughing – all before she finally got verbal confirmation that the inevitable had finally happened.
Finally, it was acceptable to decorate for Christmas.
Two days prior, Rogue, Logan and Storm had been helping you find all the old decorations in the attic and bring them down. Storm did try then to bribe something out of Rogue, but she apparently was just in the dark as the rest of them.
But the smile she gave when she looked over at Logan, who was placing down another box from the back of the pile for you to take a look at, told Storm something different.
“I can’t believe you leave it this late to decorate.”
Logan looked at you. “We’re still in November.”
“So?”
Taking hold of the garland, you started to climb the ladder. Logan held onto the bottom just to be safe.
“If you had it your way, the decorations would be up all year round.”
“Hey, no.”
“Hey, yes.”
“I’d take them down for…” you tried to think. “Halloween. You’d have a little break.”
Logan didn’t look entirely thrilled. “Halloween is one day.”
“Technically, it’s a month.”
“To you, it’s a month. To the rest of us, it’s a day.”
You looked back at him. “To you it’s a day, to the rest of us it’s a month.”
Then you looked back at the garland. “How does that look?”
“Great from where I’m standing.”
You looked a little confused for a second before quickly looking over your shoulder, realising where Logan was, in fact, looking.
Not at the garland, but at your ass.
You smiled and started to step down the ladder, hitting his shoulder on the way down.
“I meant the garland.”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Logan looked up. “Looks great.”
You laughed. “You didn’t even look.”
With a smile as you finally stepped back into his arm, he looked to the side and up. “It looks great.”
“Good. Now,” Logan turned back to look at you and you kissed him quickly. “We have to put up five more.”
“I get to watch you put up five more.”
You smiled. “This is why you’re my favourite person.”
Logan smiled. He could help you with everything else, but when it came to the garland, you had full control on where it went. Which, he didn’t mind. So long as he got to watch you put it up.
You quickly kissed him once more, only to be pulled back when you tried to walk away.
Then Logan gave you a real kiss.
A little dizzy, you smiled and placed a hand on his chest and closed your eyes. “Wow.”
He gave you a quicker, lighter kiss. “You better get going before Rogue comes back with another box of lights.”
“Light?” Then it hit you. “Oh, yeah.”
Logan smirked a little as he watched you walk away and down the hallway.
It was a couple of hours before everyone was in the same room, making the final touches all the while most of the other kids were either playing outside in the snow, were taking naps or decorating their own rooms.
And the others had been watching you and Logan all day.
The stolen glances, the stolen touches, the slightly knowing smiles from both Rogue and Bobby. And then, as Logan was helping you down from the ladder, his hand on your thigh, Bobby went to make the final hammer to hang up the mistletoe.
“Wait, no. Not there.”
“Where then?”
Storm looked around. “I know. Y/n, hang this just above there. We don’t need a remake of Mistletoe Central 1997.”
Logan looked at Storm. “Do I wanna know?”
Storm shook her head. “Here.”
She handed you the mistletoe before Logan passed you the hammer back from his belt.
Three knocks and the nail was set in and the mistletoe was above you on a corner beam, just a little to the side of the christmas tree.
At least this way, those looking for it, would find it.
"Oh, no, wait.” Jean said, looking at you. “Have to kiss someone. It’s tradition. You’re under the mistletoe.”
There was no one else apart from Logan.
Logan looked around at the others. He wondered how long it would take.
Coming up behind you on the ladder, you moved over for him to stand beside you. His palm on your back held you steady and, leaning his other arm on the ledge of the ladder, his hand cupped your face and he kissed you.
Lasting a little longer than the others had expected, you soon heard Rogue giving a little cheer, as well as a couple of whistles from the others.
“Okay, I think they get it.” You whispered to Logan as he finally pulled away, a smile very noticeable on both of your faces.
“Happy now?” Logan asked, turning towards where Jean and Scott were standing.
“That was some kiss.”
You felt yourself blush at the comment. As did Logan.
He helped you back down the ladder before you both turned and really saw the other's expression. As well as the exchanging of money between people.
“Sooo…how long has this been going on?”
You were leaning into Logan, his hand around your back and on your hip.
You looked at Logan, “A couple of months. We’re…what? November now so that would…”
“That would…” Logan counted back in his head. “May…June, July…six months.”
You looked back to the others. “Six months.”
A chorus of shocked faces and loud voices sounded out; “SIX MONTHS?!”
All before a small call from Rogue was made, which made both yourself and Logan smile.
“I knew it!”
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