Sysopsis; What happens when there's tension in-between two so-called enemies? What happens when you finally see why this pirate always got back up, because you let him?
The sky was a molten red, the city beneath them reduced to little more than shattered bones and smoking rubble. The wind carried the acrid scent of destruction, howling through the skeletal remains of buildings, as if mourning the ruin left behind.
At the edge of the crumbling tower, you stood, bloodied and breathless, fists clenched at your sides. Across from you, Sanji exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulder, his usual easy grace marred by exhaustion. Ash clung to his tattered shirt, soot streaked his cheek, but still—that damnable fire in his eyes refused to go out.
“You just do not quit, do you?” Your voice trembled with rage, the weight of it pressing into every syllable. “Time and time again, you ruin everything! I build, you break. I rise, you knock me down. No matter what I do, no matter how many times I put you in the dirt, you just keep getting back up—like some cockroach that refuses to die!”
Sanji swiped at the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth and let out a short, humorless laugh. “You talk like I’m the problem,” he muttered, tilting his head. “Like you aren’t the one leaving wreckage in your wake.”
“You do not get to stand there and preach to me.” You took a step forward, voice sharp as a blade. “Not after everything. Do you have any idea how much easier things would be if you were gone?”
The words hung between you, heavy with something unspoken. The wind howled through the ruins, but neither of you moved, the tension coiled tight as a wire.
Then, after a beat, Sanji exhaled, shaking his head.
“You don’t mean that.”
Your nails dug into your palms. “And what makes you so sure?”
He took a step forward this time, slow and deliberate, his sharp eyes never leaving yours. “Because if you really wanted me gone,” he said, voice quiet but unwavering, “you would have done it by now.”
Your breath caught.
Sanji was close enough now that you could see past the exhaustion, past the bruises and cuts, past the ever-present smirk he wore like armor. His eyes—steady, piercing, frustratingly understanding—locked onto yours, searching.
And damn him, because he was right.
You had the chance before. More than once. A well-placed blow, a single ruthless strike, and he would not be standing here now. But every time, something held you back. Some invisible chain wrapped tight around your wrists, refusing to let you finish it.
You hated him for seeing it. Hated him for the way he still stood there, unwavering.
“You are insufferable.” The words came out as a whisper—low, bitter, almost pained.
Sanji’s lips curled, just slightly, in something that was not quite a smirk, not quite a smile. “Yeah?” he murmured. “So are you.”
The air between you shifted—dangerous, electric.
It was impossible to tell who moved first.
One second, you were standing at a distance, and the next, you had collided—hands fisting in his torn shirt, his grip firm at your waist, and then his lips crashed against yours in something desperate, reckless, inevitable.
The battle had raged for so long, but this? This was its own kind of war.
Fury burned between you, but so did something deeper, something raw and undeniable. The taste of blood lingered between your mouths, the scent of smoke curling in the air, but none of it mattered. Not when he was pulling you closer, not when your hands trembled against him, not when you realized just how badly you had wanted this—wanted him.
The moment stretched, sharp and breathless, before you finally tore yourself away, your forehead resting against his as your breathing came ragged.
Sanji’s fingers lingered at your waist, hesitant but unwilling to let go.
“This doesn’t change anything,” you rasped.
His breath was warm against your lips as he chuckled, low and rough. “Didn’t say it did.”
And yet, as he looked at you—eyes dark, gaze searching—something had shifted. Something had already changed.
And neither of you could take it back now.
Silly little animation I made of Todd 'The Toad' Tolansky from Evolution!!
Might paint these instead of just drawing pen on them
So cutie patootie
HELP-
Why does the announcement (2nd pic) have more likes then the actual fic??? 😭😭😭
I need ideas for mostly Remy 😭😭
You were just trying to get a snack. That was it. But the moment you stepped into the kitchen, Peter nearly dropped his Twinkie.
"Whoa—" His silver brows shot up as his eyes scanned your outfit. Not in a gross way, but in a "Do I need to start running?" way.
You raised a brow. "Problem?"
Peter shook his head way too fast. "Nope! No problems here. You can wear whatever you want, babe."
Jubilee, sitting at the counter, smirked. "Really? You don’t care?"
Peter scoffed, tossing an arm around your shoulders. "Pfft. Why would I? My girl can wear whatever she wants..." He hesitated, glancing at you and then lowering his voice. "...'cause I'm scared of her."
You narrowed your eyes. "What was that last part?"
"Nothing!" He grinned nervously, stepping back. "You look amazing! Stunning! Fantastic! A completely independent person with great fashion sense! I love that for you!"
Jubilee cackled. "Dude, you are terrified of her."
"Well, yeah," Peter said without shame. "Like, you think I'm about to tell her no? You think I got a death wish? Nah, I value my life, I like my face. I’d like to keep it in one piece."
You rolled your eyes, grabbing a granola bar from the pantry. "Good answer, Maximoff."
Peter sighed in relief. You were scary, but hey, at least you were his scary.
Logan had been minding his business at the bar when you walked in, dressed in something that made half the room do a double take.
He noticed. Oh, he definitely noticed. But instead of reacting like some jealous, overprotective boyfriend, he just sipped his whiskey.
It was not until some guy at the pool table let his eyes linger a second too long that Logan made a noise in the back of his throat—a low, rumbling ahem that sent a very clear message.
The guy turned, raising an eyebrow. "What?"
Logan smirked, tapping a single claw against his glass. "Nothin'. Just wonderin' if you're stupid or just feelin' lucky tonight."
The guy scoffed. "Relax, old man, it's just a look."
"Mm. See, I ain’t too worried ‘bout what she wears." Logan tilted his head, eyes sharp. "She can wear whatever she wants… ‘cause I can fight." He flashed his Adamantium claws.
The guy raised his hands and backed off real quick. Logan just chuckled, downing the rest of his drink.
You leaned against the bar beside him. "You always gotta scare people?"
He shrugged. "Ain’t my fault they spook easy."
You smirked. "You are such a show-off."
Logan just grunted, but the way he slid a possessive arm around your waist told you everything you needed to know.
Remy was kicked back on the mansion's couch, long legs stretched out, flipping a poker chip between his fingers. He had seen you walk in, noticed the way heads turned, but unlike the others, he did not bat an eye.
Jubilee, being Jubilee, could not help but stir the pot. "Remy, you just gonna let her walk around like that?"
Remy did not even look up from his poker chip. "Remy think his chérie can wear whatever she want," he said lazily.
"Yeah?" Jubilee smirked. "You that confident?"
He flicked the chip up, caught it between two fingers, and finally smirked. "Mm-hmm. ‘Cause she's a houe, and I knew that before we started dating."
Gasps. Laughter. Even Logan huffed out an amused breath from the other side of the room.
Your eyes widened. "Excuse me?"
Remy grinned, finally looking at you. "What? You know it’s true, chérie. I fell for you ‘cause you a heartbreaker. A flirt. A menace." He tilted his head, voice dropping to a lazy drawl. "And yet, here we are."
You crossed your arms. "That does not make it better, you know."
"But it is true, non?" He flashed that dangerous, charming grin. "An’ I do not mind one bit."
You rolled your eyes, but you could not stop the small smirk tugging at your lips. Damn Cajun and his smooth talk.
Jubilee snorted. "I hate that he actually got away with that."
Remy just winked.
Hope you all enjoyed!! Love you all, kits! (houe means hoe in French. Idk what else to put there T ' T)
Synopsis:You and Logan steal moments together between missions, whether it’s sharing a quiet drink or sparring, each encounter deepening your bond.
Warnings: Maybe light cursing? Female reader! Just sum fluff for Logan💛💙🖤🤍
The evening air was still, filled with the earthy scent of grass. You watched him, noting how his posture relaxed, though a heaviness lingered in the quiet between you.
As the last rays of sunlight faded, an urge to break the silence stirred within you. You stepped closer, trying to gauge his mood. He looked up, meeting your gaze with an intensity that made your heart race just a little faster.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked, his voice low and inviting, pulling you deeper into the moment.
You hesitated, searching for the right words. The simple act of being together felt like enough.
“Do you want to grab a drink? The bar in town should still be open.” You wiped the sweat from your forehead, the warmth of the evening suddenly feeling more intense.
The corner of Logan’s mouth lifted, just enough to be noticeable. “A drink sounds good,” he said, his gravelly voice cutting through the silence. His eyes lingered on yours a beat longer than expected, that familiar intensity behind them making your stomach twist in the way it always did around him.
The two of you walked through the quiet streets, side by side, though the space between you felt charged. The warm night air carried the distant hum of the town, but it was the heavy silence between you and Logan that you couldn’t shake. The old bar’s neon sign flickered as you approached, casting a soft glow on his rugged features.
Inside, the bar was just as rundown as you remembered—dimly lit, the smell of stale beer thick in the air. Logan slid into a booth at the back, gesturing for you to follow. The cracked leather squeaked beneath you as you sat across from him, the tension still hanging between you like the dim haze of smoke lingering in the air.
“Place hasn’t changed much,” Logan muttered, his eyes scanning the room before landing back on you.
“Nope,” you replied, trying to keep your voice casual, though you could feel his eyes on you, making your heart race just a little faster.
The silence that settled between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy with the unspoken. Logan leaned back in his seat, taking a slow sip of his drink, his gaze still sharp, watching you in that quiet way of his. You both knew what this was—something brewing, something neither of you could quite put into words, but both of you felt it.
Over the next few weeks, the missions came and went, each more dangerous than the last. Yet in the middle of it all, you found yourself catching those fleeting moments with Logan. There were stolen glances during tactical meetings, the brush of his hand against yours when passing by, the way his presence seemed to linger a little longer when the others weren’t around.
Sometimes, after a mission, you’d find yourselves alone, sitting in the shadows, sharing a drink in silence, just like that night at the bar. His presence, always so solid and sure, gave you a strange sense of comfort—even if it came with the sharp edge of something more.
One night, as you both prepped for another mission, the tension between you seemed thicker than usual. The dim light of the armory cast shadows across the room as you geared up. You were fastening your gloves when you felt Logan’s eyes on you again, his quiet intensity impossible to ignore.
“Be careful out there,” he said, his voice rough but low, cutting through the stillness.
You glanced at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Always am.”
But something was different this time. Logan stepped closer, his movements deliberate, closing the space between you. His gaze held yours, the weight of it sending a jolt of electricity down your spine. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, as the air between you thickened with everything that had been building for weeks.
And then, without warning, he leaned in. His lips brushed against yours in a brief, stolen kiss—soft, almost hesitant, as if testing the waters. But the impact was immediate, sending a rush of heat through you.
When he pulled back, his eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to fall away. There were no words exchanged, but the kiss had said it all. Something had shifted between you, something neither of you could deny any longer.
The next few missions were the same, but everything between you and Logan had changed. The stolen moments became more frequent, the touches more deliberate, the tension simmering just below the surface. You could feel it in every glance, every word he spoke to you.
That brief kiss wasn’t the end—it was only the beginning.
Do not copy or translate plz! -CallMe_Bunni
New Story coming! I got some requests that I absolutely adore so be prepared!!
But while we wait my kits, what is your favorite childhood drink? Mines milk with that strawberry syrup stuff mixed in! 🍓🥛
I love Storm ✊️✊️
Oh my queen. I admire you.