#oh no I need to make a masterlist

[riabef]

✎ I feel a summer breeze (and it reminds me of you) TIGHNARI X READER

SUMMARY: There are many things Tighnari did during his days at the Akademiya, notably, being your classmate was one of them. Even now, after it’s been so long since you two met, he just hopes that you think of him as much as he thinks of you.

FEATURING CAST: Tighnari and the reader are… the only people…

PRONOUNS: gender neutral reader!, second person perspective “You” (please inform me if there’s any fem mentions!)

WORD COUNT: 1 931

WARNINGS: None, bittersweet (?), fluff but then it’s angst…

PROOF-READ: nope! written at 1am 🫶

AUTHOR NOTES: hi hi!!! This is the first fic I’m publishing, haven’t procrastinated this much in ages, sorry I swear it’s the homework. There are probably grammar mistakes, I had a nightmare that a former teacher told me to learn some grammar while writing this…. I also snatched the opening two lines from a song it’s very nice “pusong ligaw by jona” is mwah.

also sorry if it’s obvious that I started listening to Shakira halfway through the piece 😔 listen, hips don’t lie is an absolute banger

ps: send help I don’t know how to center things.TM

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It is still you that my lost heart looks for

You are its destination, where it will go

Rustling leaves, vines threaded together in intricate patterns unknown, and all the sounds of the forest mixing in a melodious dulcet calming those who stopped to listen. “Stop, and smell the roses”. Blossoming flowers, roots that entwine the earth to meet the sky, the trees’ canopy providing shade to weary travellers, and a noise rustled within the forest

Their strides were confident in nature, their dendro vision glowing as if pulsing to a heartbeat, and the clinking of metal hitting against fabric resonated slightly throughout the forest. It wasn’t exactly an easy duty to organize the forest watchers to be efficient, persistence was the key, and that would also be the reason why he was walking down this very path.

It didn’t take him very long to arrive, it never did; once he let his heart lead his movements, he would always end up in the same spot as always.

Sitting atop a branch, legs dangling in the zephyr below, Tighnari never felt nostalgia and loneliness hit him quite so hard.

Just for a few moments, he would be allowed to sit with his thoughts, and maybe, just maybe, he would be allowed to dream of a world where he didn't lose you. Minutes were spent wondering if he was an idiot for not realizing his feelings until he didn’t see you anymore.

A heart grows fonder with absence

It felt far away, memories of the Akademiya were buried, unfavoured compared to the work that Tighnari had in the present. Although, that’s not to say that they were necessarily forgotten. Even months– no, years later, Tighnari swears that even though he wasn’t a sculptor, he could sculpt your face, down to the smallest details; a lost strand of hair, a forgotten smudge of ink on your hands from writing so much.

Ah, he needs to return to work.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When Tighnari was in the Akademiya, there wasn’t much he would accurately remember, memories were slightly blurred, months, days, and time had all faded together in one huge deadline. Get this done, review this, read this, and prepare for this. Despite the number of people who had talked to him, his sole focus was on his research.

Although, there were memories that had stuck out to him, like water lilies in a pond; beautiful, vibrant, and utterly transparent.

One of those memories was made when he met you.

Tighnari remembers how the faint glow of the sun hit your features or the way you had haphazardly entered class even more tired than how you were the days before. He wasn’t one to pay much attention to looks, but in that moment he felt as though he didn’t appreciate them enough.

His breath hitched when you took a chair and sat across from him.

“Please tell me that water evaporates.”

Perhaps,,, he had miscalculated.

“Pardon me?”

In a moment he never felt as baffled as he was now, and you never felt more relieved that you weren’t the only one absolutely floored by your friend’s statement.

“Could you please tell me that water doesn’t evaporate– I swear, I’ll treat you to something, just please tell me that water, does, in fact, evaporate.” The exasperation in your voice and the way that your eyes glinted with nothing but absolute exhaustion drew a subtle smile to his face.

“Last time I checked, water does evaporate.”

He watched as you sighed into your hands, before quickly saying your goodbyes to him, and running back to your friend with the answer. If meeting you wasn’t a memory at the forefront of his mind, it would probably be how your friend’s face had held absolute anguish upon hearing his answer.

Or it was the way they had screamed in misery, “SO WHO WAS GOING TO TELL ME?!”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

A week later, he’d find that you were in one of his biology classes, and was able to put a name to your face, and upon seeing you in class, he wondered for brief moments, if it would be alright to sit next to you.

In Tighnari’s defense, maybe being next to you would be helpful to him (since he couldn’t get his mind off of you at all).

Seeing you hunched over a few stacks of paper, and seeming to chant a mantra over and over, Tighnari took a seat next to you before lectures had officially begun. It did take an impressive amount of self-restraint to not laugh right there and then.

“When I said I wanted to study plants I didn’t mean this.”

Tighnari’s tail swished back and forth as if expressing the nervous gestures he couldn’t make, and he took one glance at your papers before he nodded his head in sympathy. It was only then that you realized that someone decided to book first-row tickets to your sanity being undone like it was a knitting mistake, your head shot up faster than students darting away when they saw the General Mahamatra.

Before you were able to question this man’s sanity (as well as yours), you were luckily interrupted by the start of the lecture and it was nothing short of a blessing to you… since you weren’t sure that he would appreciate the lovely string of curses that had almost left your mouth.

That day, after classes, a few offerings of Candied Ajilenakh Nuts could be found at a nearby statue of the seven.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It was awfully too easy to step into a routine with you, Tighnari admitted. From spending his mornings, afternoons, and evenings dedicated to his research in a comfortable solitude to his thoughts slowly consumed by you the longer he knew you. It wasn’t a rare occurrence for him to look at a few plants and wonder if you would like them, or how he would stare at the setting sun and wonder if you would like this particular spot as well.

You, on the other hand, felt absolute joy at the prospect of gaining a new friend, but it was hard to deny that your heart fluttered when you woke up in the morning, not because of the Akademiya, but because of Tighnari.

The affection you two held for each other was clear to see, for everyone except you two. The peers in your class would sigh when that fact was made obvious, at some point it had begun to feel a bit painful to them; especially with the puppy-love crushes that you two seemingly had on each other.

During a lecture that could beat even the eternity that the Electro Archon idealized, it was no surprise that you fell asleep. Tighnari knew of your struggles, the amount of work that you received was akin to a tunnel (that had no light at the end), and he decided to save the lecture about the importance of sleep for later.

It was then that Tighnari felt a gentle breeze, the breeze blew past him albeit a little cold. Deciding that he was better off without it, he places his coat on your shoulders, taking notes for the both of you.

Lingering touches and lingering gazes flitted across the classroom. He reached out to push away stray hairs, hand hovering above your face before he thought better of it.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Hesitant movements, and hesitant phrases said to each other, all in the name of unshared feelings. Words that ached to be granted a voice, and undone actions that added to regrets.

Friends don’t do this.

When graduation had approached, the mixed feelings that conflicted in his mind had him nauseous. Should he be feeling crushed at the notion that he wouldn’t be able to share notes with you in class? Or that he wouldn’t be able to look at you disapprovingly when you tried to tell him jokes during a class, or the times he’d scold you to take more rest.

It all faded into a dream, and before he knew it, he was graduating.

Where were you?

You approached him, excitement painted on your features, the thrill of finally completing something over the long years you’ve spent at the Akademiya. The bounce in your step was enough to show that, and the glint in your eyes said more than words ever could.

Unlike him, a coward to his feelings, and a coward to himself, you spoke the very sentence he was dreading,

“I guess this is the last time we’ll be seeing each other!”

His instincts demand him to counter your words, “What makes you say that?”

You and your damned smile, the smile that he dreamt of for so long, “I don’t know, I just have this… let’s call it intuition, yeah?”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

After Tighnari left the Akademiya he didn’t engage much with its affairs, although you were an exception. While he remained rooted in the forest, you had taken flight like the birds you were always fond of; delving into research and travelling nations for the answers.

Not even a letter to remember you by, no letters in a box that he could’ve kept stashed away, the only thing that he had left of you was your memories.

And he was trying to pick up the pieces, desperately trying to glue them to create a comprehensive picture.

Regrets and regrets piled up, and everytime he sat in a branch of a tree, hidden away from the rest of the world, he still wonders, if you two could’ve worked out.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

His memory flickers to a sunlit room, the setting sun casting its glow on the world for a minute. If meeting you was his favourite memory, this would definitely be in second place. The two of you contemplating life after graduation, and possibly, life without each other.

“You know, it’s a bit odd, I never planned it out because I didn’t think that you wouldn’t be in it.” You move your gaze to the sunset, more interested in the view than seeing the expression he made. Almost as though you were scared of seeing what he would say.

He opens his mouth, and for once, he’s unable to form a sentence.

The silence had washed over the both of you, and it wasn’t a comfortable silence between good friends. The kind of silence that belonged between two people who knew they were reaching the end of their paths together.

Tighnari reaches out to hold your hand, he wants to reassure you that he’d keep in contact with you, that you two would remain friends after graduation.

Like always, he returns his hand back before you could even notice.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It’s no secret to the forest rangers, or even those who chance upon the Avidya forest that Tighnari is an amazing man of organization, and confidence.

Although between you and him, he’s a man of regrets. The kind of regrets that he wakes up at night, wondering what would’ve happened, or what could’ve been, if he had taken one risk. One chance, and he could’ve at least known your feelings for him.

It isn’t until he hears heavy footsteps, that he snaps out of his thoughts; you were important to him, but his duty called and he was to answer.

[secretlythatsme]

i've seen a lot of dp fans in the dpxdc fandom talk about not having access to comics so here. it's completely free, good quality scans (for most things), basically any dc comic you could want is there. you should have an adblocker but the ads aren't the worst if you don't, just noticeable and annoying. you're not gonna get a virus, i've been using the site for years, as have many other fans.

if you genuinely want to read the comics, take advantage of the sites comic fans have been using. there's new and old stuff and everything in between. crossovers too. whatever you want to read, you'll find there.

[cinnamon-bunni]

⚞MASTERLIST⚟

Finally, a masterpost for the tumblr users to find :) fandoms are sorted alphabetically, but it’s still a bit long, so I apologize for that–I might at some time just make separate lists for certain fandoms if they end up being too long. My Ao3 page is Cinnabunni, so feel free to go to look through my works there if ya want! (also, little thing: any fics with the “↳” next to it are my personal favorites <3)

・୨୧・・・・୨୧・・・・୨୧・・・・୨୧・

☕Coffee Talk☕

You Could Never Hurt Me

Rating: G Paring: Gala/Hyde Word count: 1.5k Gala was always aware about time. He always knew what time, what day it was. Hyde supposed that made sense; he always needed to know how close the full moon was, so he could always be prepared, and lock himself in an isolation room within the hospital he worked at. But the hospital was full to the brim, with everybody working 24/7, including Gala. He was working so much, he didn’t even notice anything outside of work. Including the date or time. Luckily, Hyde knows how to deal with this.

🦇DC (Batman)🦇

Green Wrapping Paper And Purple Ribbon

Rating: G Pairing: Gen Word Count: 2.4k Dick was excited to celebrate Tim’s 16th birthday with him. He had a small thing planned with Jason and the others, but sadly Tim was a bit to busy with a dumb scavenger hunt with way too many dumb riddles.

💥Danganronpa💥

A Small Goldfish

Rating: T Pairing: Kazuichi/Gundham (Pre-Relationship) Word count: 3.2k Kazuichi, throughout his life, had many pet fish. Even though they didn’t have the right equipment to take care of them. But at least he can bond with someone at Hope’s Peak over his love of fish.

One More Round

Rating: G Pairing: Gen  Word count: 3k “Well,” she said thoughtfully, “Hajime and I were going to go to a nearby arcade after school today. I tend to go there often whenever I’m bored. It’s a big place too, I’m sure you could find something to do there.” “An arcade, huh?” Kazuichi repeated. He gave a hum. “Well, it’s not the worst idea.” ~~~ In which Kazuichi drags Nagito, Gundham, and Fuyuhiko go to the arcade, successfully crashing Chiaki and Hajime’s plans.

🌕Ducktales🌕

You’ll Always Be Safe

Rating: G Pairing: Gen (Scrooge & HDL) Word count: 884 Scrooge always checks in with the kids at night. Just to be sure that they’re safe.

🏘Fire Emblem: Three Houses🏘

Sweet Cake During a Bitter Night

Rating: G Pairing: Gen (Felix & Lysithea) Word count: 2.2k In which Felix wants sleep, and Lysithea doesn’t want to take a chance of a ghost attacking her at night. At least she gets to have her cake.

All the Time in the World (On Going)

Rating: T Pairing: Gen (Minor Felix/Sylvain) Word count: 5k The man’s eye immediately softened when he looked at the Archbishop. “Byleth…” he spoke in a low tone. “…is he real?” The Archbishop–Byleth–gave a firm nod. “He’s very much real, Dimitri. But right now, he needs to rest-” “But how do we know if it’s him?” the man pressed. “How do we know it’s really him? How do we not know it’s the same people who assumed the role of Monica and Tomas? How do we know that he won’t stab us in the back and kill us all?” The man focused back onto Glenn. “I say we strike now, before he has the chance to heal and get back to full strength. Destroy the seeds of tragedy and despair before they get the chance to sprout.” Glenn, if it was any other circumstance, would’ve gotten angry, and reply with his own remark. Maybe even fight if he was physically able to. But one detail made his mind spin, made his whole world pause and destroy everything that he thought he knew or understood.  “Dimitri…?” ~~~ In which Glenn is thrown through time, and no one is happy about the situation.

🪓Hatchetfield Universe 🪓

Without a Simple Goodbye (On Going)

Rating: M Pairing: Gen (Peter & Ted) (Peter & Ruth & Richie) Word count: 13.1k Peter goes to Pasqualli’s, and gets his ass beaten by Max Jägerman in the parking lot—a harsh reminder of who he was and where he belonged. He hides away int he library with Ruth and Richie, who shoot him concerned yet understanding looks his way. Everything should've gone back to normal after that. Back to being int he background, hiding away from Jagerman. Except, he wakes up back to the same day, the day Steph asks to cheat on the pop quiz, to study at Pasqualli’s. And peter wakes up to that day again and again and again and-

♾Infinity Train♾

A Shared Birthday

Rating: G Paring: Ryan/Min-Gi (Pre-Relationship) Word Count: 2.1k “Just a few more seconds…” he said, eyes narrowing on the time. Min-Gi started to grow more nervous as they waited, not knowing what Ryan was doing or what he had in store. And if he knew Ryan, it would most likely not be anything good. “There!” Ryan shouted the second the clock had struck midnight. ~~~ In which Ryan sneaks into Min-Gi’s house to celebrate his birthday with him.

Can’t Sing Along Together

Rating: T Pairing: Ryan/Min-Gi (Pre-Relationship) Word Count: 6.4k It didn’t take much longer to find the exit. But just like the door Kez had tried, it wouldn’t budge. No matter how hard he tried to open it, it kept shut. He soon just gave up, and started to look around the room for any clues that could possibly reveal what the puzzle was. “Maybe it was to do something with mirrors,” he wondered quietly to himself. “I suppose that would make sense in this car. But what to do with them…” “You need to swap with your reflection. You need to open up the door at the same time with your reflection while you’re in the reflected world.” Min-Gi nodded. “Huh. I suppose that makes sense. But how would I even-” He then paused, and started to frantically look around his surroundings, because that was not Ryan’s voice. “Wait, who said that?” he asked aloud. “Who’s there? “Calm down, I’m down here.” Min-Gi froze, and slowly looked down. Below him was of course his reflection, but his reflection wasn’t normal. It wasn’t positioned in the way Min-Gi was; it didn’t have a look of terror on its face. It was instead in a more relaxed and care-free position. It gave an awkward wave and a sheepish grin to go with it. “Hey.”

🌳The Legend of Zelda🌳

Alone in the Wild

Rating: G Pairing: Link/Revali Word count: 2.2k Link is tired and just wants to rest at the Flight Range. Revali finds him there and the two talk for a little bit.

💀Monster Prom💀

↳ Home

Rating: T Pairing: Gen (Damien & Miranda; Lucien LaVey/Stan LaVey) Word count: 5.9k CWs: Major Character Death He could feel his eyes prickle as tears formed, because holy shit. He was really going to die here, wasn’t he?

Spill All Your Secrets And Emotions

Rating: T Paring: Gen (Zoe & Liam) Word count: 7.8k Zoe could be very observant. Could, of course, being the key word. Usually she wasn’t, and tended to not pay attention much to the world outside of the fictional ones she obsessed over, but sometimes she picked up on small details. Said details were important to include in her writings. And Liam. Wonderful, horrible Liam. Liam’s cynicism and hatred for the mainstream made him seem very two dimensional, something very easy to write, but the few times he let his walls down made Zoe realize there was something else deep in there. But he always kept everyone at a distance, it was impossible to know his true character. Why couldn’t he be like Damien, who had internal problems that everyone knew about?  And then, as Zoe found out, that the vampire did indeed have a few internal problems. And she was determined to fix it the best way she could.

Swirling Feelings

Rating: T Pairing: Gen (Zoe & Liam) Word count: 2.9k Liam does not care for Halloween. He cares for his birthday even less. So why were his friends so insistent on celebrating it?

📱Mystic Messenger📱

A Special Surprise At The Party

Rating: G Paring: Yoosung/MC Word count: 1.4k Yoosung has been planning something for his girlfriend for a while, planning with the other RFA members, without her knowing. And when the party arrives, Yoosung is excited for the surprise he has planned.

↳ I’ll Be Here For You

Rating: T Pairing: Gen (Yoosung & Zen) Word Count: 2k CWs: Suicidal Thoughts After a year of Rika’s death, Yoosung still isn’t himself. Zen pays him a visit to see if he’s okay.

Spend Some Time Together

Rating: G Pairing: Gen (Yoosung & Zen) Word Count: 2.3k “Zen, slow down!” Yoosung complained. “I have homework, you know!” “Ah, it’s the weekend, you’ll have plenty of time!” he argued. “C’mon, don’t you wanna join me with my rehearsals?” “Not really…” “Yoosung, you wound me!” he exclaimed, grasping his chest dramatically, which made Yoosung roll his eyes. “C’mon! It’ll be fun, won’t it?” “Why do you even want me over there? Won’t I just be in the way?” “Of course not!” Zen said. “And can I not spend time with my favorite RFA member? Can I not just wanna spend some time with you?” ~~~ In which Zen wants to hang out with Yoosung, and the only idea he’s got is bringing him down to rehearsals with him.

💘Obey Me! Shall We Date?💘

Self Care Day

Rating: G Pairing: Gen (Leviathan & Asmodeus) Word Count: 2.9k Leviathan just wants to be left alone. He just wants to be in his room with no one bothering him. He was already in a bad mood, and he did not want anyone annoying him even more. But of course, Asmo wanted to drag him into having a self care day. And of course Levi had to deal with his brother’s dumb self care day. What was it going to do, anyway? Make him feel better about himself? Yeah right. No way was a dumb “self care day” going to make him feel better. …Right?

↳ A Sin-Filled Swap

Rating: T Paring: Gen (Brothers & Brothers) Word Count: 25.4k “It seems to be some sort of swapping curse,” he said, but tilted his head. “But it’s odd, I’ve never seen something as powerful as this before. I haven’t even mastered a simple swapping spell yet, and yet whoever cursed who was able to swap your entire sins.” A silence settled in the room, and the seven brothers completely stunned at what the sorcerer had just said. “Huh? Excuse me?” Mammon said, breaking the silence. “Did ya just say our sins?” ~~~ In which the brothers swap sins for a day. No one is happy, to say the least.

Dirty (On Going)

Rating: M Pairing: Gen Word Count: 7.9k CWs: Implied/Referenced Rape Asmodeus sits there and all he can think about it how dirty he is.

↳ Messy Makeup

Rating: T Pairing: Gen (Leviathan & Asmodeus) (Leviathan & Barbatos) Word count: 5.5k Asmodeus was happily picking out his outfit for the day when Levi burst the bedroom door wide open. Honestly, it was way too early in the morning to try and explain sexuality to his older brother. Why couldn’t he just finish his morning routine in peace? ~~~ In which Levi is confused, Asmo attempts to help, and Barbatos’s baking can fix just about anything.

A Useless Date

Rating: G Pairing: Gen (Lucifer & Asmo) Word count: 2.6k Lucifer wasn’t sure how he ended up here. He replayed the scene again and again in his head, and yet he still came up with nothing. How the hell had he been convinced to leave his office, and head down to Ristorante Six? For a blind date nonetheless?

Give Me a Heart That Won't Break

Rating: T Pairing: Gen (No Relationships) Word count: 2k Levi doesn't envy them, not at all. He focuses on Asmo as he enters the room, a joyful smile on his face as he laughs and gasps at whatever someone says. His groupies follow him, and suddenly they are all taking up too much room–all laughing and squealing and enjoying themselves. They are all so happy, he thinks absentmindedly, watching a few feet away from the circle. Everyone is engaged, all participating in one way or the other. His grip on his phone tightens as he watches them. (Really, he doesn't.)

I Know Those Eyes

Rating: T Pairing: Gen (Lucifer & Mammon; Lucifer & Levi) Word count: 2.5k CWs: Major Character Death Lucifer listens to the clock tick, tick away as he speaks, repeating words from the book, words that feel peculiar on his tongue, until the clock suddenly stops, and there is no more tick, ticking in the room. And the room shakes a bit, wooden furniture rattling, as each and every candle flickers out. And Lucifer continues despite it all, because he still sees the dull-blue eyes in his head, which made him on-edge, and he was just so desperate to fix it. And he stops speaking, ends the ritual, and the room stops moving, and all is silent. And the sound of a beating heart fills the room.

🌹Ouran High School Host Club🌹

Maple Cookies

Rating: T Paring: Kaoru/Kyoya Word count: 6k As Kaoru waited for someone to answer the door, he twirled the strings on his hoodie around his finger, and suddenly realized that he was very underdressed for this occasion. This day could only end well. In which Kaoru is anxious of meeting Kyoya’s family, Fuyumi is excited to meet her brother’s boyfriend, Kyoya is slowly dying from embarrassment, Yuuichi just wants to show Kaoru that his family isn’t all that bad, and Akito is protective over his baby brother (and Yoshio thinks his youngest son might be gay).

Broken (On Going)

Rating: T Pairing: Gen (Kyoya & Host Club) Word count: 2.8k Kyoya knew what he was doing. He knew how live out on the streets. It wasn’t easy, of course not, but he knew what he was doing; he know how to survive. But of course a man and his daughter offered (well, more liked forced him) to let him stay at their place. But hey, it was a roof over his head, so he shouldn’t complain. But what he didn’t expect was to be bombarded by six other high schoolers, all curious of who exactly he is and want to be friends with him–something of which he will complain about. What he hates most is that he has a feeling that his past life, one before a life on the streets, something he forgot long ago, is catching up to him.

🥼Pokémon🥼

Just Want One More Moment With You

Rating: T Pairing: Lysandre/Sycamore Word count: 1.3k CWs: Alcohol Abuse Lysandre was gone, and Serena wanted to see how Sycamore was taking the news. He was not handling the news very well, to say the least.

Open Up To Me (So I Can Help)

Rating: G Paring: Archie/Maxie (Pre-Relationship) Word count: 1.7k “Jeez, what happened to your face?” Maxie didn’t answer, only just gave him a glare. “Are you going to let me inside or what?” Or, Maxie comes over to Archie’s house slightly hurt, and Archie takes care of him.

A Few More Minutes

Rating: G Pairing: Lysandre/Sycamore Word count: 690 In which Sycamore works too much, and Lysandre forces him to sleep.

Please Don’t Leave Me

Rating: T Pairing: Lysandre/Sycamore Word count: 6.7k It was easy to feign all these emotions; to pretend to care, and say the right words and do the right acts at just the right time. He had fun doing it, too. “Professor, Calem and I are going after him–he’s in Geosenge right now! He’s gonna activate the Ultimate Weapon!” Sycamore gave a nod. “You kids go on, I’ll catch up!” And as the kids ran out of the building, Sycamore couldn’t help but give a small, devilish grin, and followed the kids. This was going to be interesting. ~~~ In which Sycamore is apart of Team Flare from the very beginning.

🍄Super Mario🍄

↳ Friends

Rating: G Pairing: Gen (Mimi & Mr. L | Luigi) Word count: 3.4k Mimi is happy to have someone she can call a friend. Although, a small part of her is worried that she lost said friend after everything that happened. Now that Mr. L–Luigi–had his memories back and knew who he was, why would he want to hang out with her anymore?

Time to Rest

Rating: G Pairing: Gen (Kamek & Ludwig)  Word count: 3.2k After the events of everything that had happened in Beanbean Kingdom and with the witch Cackletta, Kamek is left to pick up the pieces. Luckily it isn’t too difficult, but he would really like for Ludwig to finally wake up right about now.

↳ Heart Melts (You Meant So Well) (On Going)

Rating: T Pairing: Luigi/Peasley Word count: 17.4k Luigi was invited by Prince Peasley to come and stay at the Beanbean Kingdom, so that he can attend the grand Woven Hearts Festival; a festival held every ten years by the royal family. But, while Luigi is there, problems start to arise. More and more of them come up in the kingdom, but it’s fine, because Luigi is a hero, and he could solve just about any problem that he faced. And with Peasley by his side, he could do just about anything. Everything was going to be fine, and Luigi couldn’t be happier. Because he could fix any problem, right? Things were going to be fine. Just fine.

💉Team Fortress 2💉

↳ Once More, With Needles

Rating: T Pairing: Gen (Medic & Scout) Word count: 4.3k CWs: Canon-Typical Gore, Body Horror He was bored out of his mind–hell, he wouldn’t even mind having someone to dissect; just open them up a little bit, poke around a bit, until his boredom was cured by something else. Thankfully, his favorite patient knocked on the open door before letting himself in. “I hope I am not interrupting anything?” he asked. “Good! Because I need a medical professional to look at something for me–a bit of a problem in my hand, you see.” ~~~ In which Engie-Med fucks up not one, but both his hands. Medi-Scout is not amused by this. (for @/a-scary-lack-of-common-sense’s Job Switcheroo AU!)

🐢🐢TMNT (2012)🐢🐢

nothing...

for now :)

[everlastiingiimmortals]

this may have been a mistake

[industria-adastra]

[Vampire Knight] Fic Idea??? Ramble???

Maybe it's my magical girl obsession talking but I think it would be hilarious to mix up elements of the precure-like magical girl genre with Vampire Knight especially if Yuuki is going around doing magical girl business whilst juggling other responsibilities like feeding Zero and making sure no one dies or finds out their schoolmates are actually vampires.

Like just imagine no one having a goddamn clue where Yuuki is and panicking except she's actually just fighting the forces of evil in the backyard like an extreme form of exposure therapy to violence (although I doubt it'd actually help with her fear of vampires hm)..

Oh and I simply wish to write about the Rido problem getting solved by one of those "healing" beams and gratuitous cutesy violence. Will the rest of VK continue on like normal? Probably not. If I were to take this idea to its natural conclusion we'd have to deal with the fallout of an entire magical society getting outed. And the whole magical girl thing.

But hey at least Kaname probably won't yeetus deletus himself this way? (maybe???)

Or maybe I just like writing about cute girls beating the snot out of things in cute outfits. I have very simple tastes and desires, it seems.

[oletus-manors-log]

Perhaps I'm a little delulu but I'm currently planning on the flow for that one Norton request (which is about taking care of each other after a match), and the thoughts I'm getting...

Oooh I'm gonna sound so delusional as hell but they're so funny because one of them was basically "what if we go back to trickster reader" and I have to slap myself silly to not go back to them again HELP

[kalpasio]

A Long Drive Masterlist

I already said that this story was up on my AO3, but I'm supposed to post every Monday so here's the links to the 3 chapter short-ish fic. It's about a psychicMANTIS!Reader and their relationship with Kalpas, both on base and fighting together.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

let me know if the links don't work!

[lovegasmic]

⋆ AGE GAP ft. Satoru, modern Sukuna, Toji, Suguru

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 cw. f!reader, older boyfriends ‹3 x adult reader, pet names such as ( my girl, baby, doll, princess ) dilf toji with a breeding kink like he should, oral make receiving ( s.r ) overstimulation ( s.geto )

NAVI ⁞ EVENT MASTERLIST

ִֶָ SATORU

your older boyfriend that spoils you rotten. waiting for you after class with a smile on his face, sunglasses covering his eyes and lazily leaning against his car, scanning the surroundings until his eyes land on your pretty self, looking so fuckin’ gorgeous in that skirt he bought you, and the one that makes his pants tighten with how hard his cock turns, begging and drooling in need to sink into your tight cunt.

your boyfriend spoils you rotten, getting you clothes and lingerie for his eyes only in the privacy of his luxury apartment; Satoru really can’t resist how beautiful you are, how much smaller than him you look bent, skirt flipped up and two knuckles deep in your pussy, “did you miss me this bad, princess?” is what he murmurs, a hint of teasing in his words while his fingers slide inside your cunt, two long digits curling and hitting against the spot inside your walls that makes you shiver and cling to the blue sky button up your boyfriend wore.

adorable, and absolutely ravishing is what you are, unable to stop your tiny whimpers from escaping at each rub on your walls or clit, your warm and translucent liquids dripping down his uncovered wrist, splattering against the kitchen floor right where Satoru presses you against the counter.

it’s not your fault you’re gushing so much, your boyfriend is so sexy with his arms muscles and veins popping when he holds your waist tightly, making out with an expertise that makes your knees buck and tummy do flips with how desperately you needed him, “i bet you were so wet when I picked you up, hm? soaked through the pretty panties I bought you” his breathing goes directly against your ear, licking a fat strip down the column of your neck and nibbling on your shoulder, “so wet and ready like my good girl” his fingers only speeding up, a signal that he’s not stopping anytime soon.

ִֶָ SUKUNA

your older boyfriend who has taught you everything you know. truly before Sukuna, you couldn’t handle having your mouth fucked without gagging, not as if it was easier now, but the stretch is less uncomfortable thanks to your handsome, big and rich businessman of a lover.

“you’re doing good angel, keep going” Sukuna murmurs, humming in appreciation to the way your puffy and swollen lips part to greet his sticky cockhead, not wasting any time in sucking him in like your perfect cunt would.

it’s almost conditioned how your body reacts to him, unable to stop your pussy from slicking and insides aching in search of the relief your boyfriend’s fat cock can provide, unconsciously bucking against the cold air hitting your bare core from where you kneel in his office, with your uniform pencil skirt around your waist, preventing it from catching a large slick stain.

“oh, fuck...” a groan that only makes you slick further, “that’s my good girl, mmm... fucking perfect” a gentle roll of his hips is what’s next, at the same time his fingertips slide through your hair, tugging gently to easily slip the rest of his fat cock down your throat, and your tongue is quick to wrap around him, suckling and slurping disgustingly loud that it resonates through the room, barely choking but managing to keep your eyes locked on his, the picture of your messed up face and chin glistening with saliva and precum almost sending him over the edge, of course, Sukuna would not admit how quick you make him want to cum, to shoot his load down your throat or perhaps, paint your pretty face and gorgeous tits white.

ִֶָ TOJI

your older boyfriend with whom you shouldn’t have fallen in love with.

being friends with Megumi was nice, you being a couple years older than him was not an impediment to make a friendship bloom, although lusting over his dad was not in your plans.

it was a simple crush, you told yourself, nothing to worry about, you reassured yourself, that until you found yourself naked under Toji, knees almost touching your ears and puffy slit glistening with slick, all while the dark haired loomed over you, messily tapping the tip of his cock against your cunt, “beg, doll, beg me to put it in” he smirks, not bothering to look into your pleading expression, a bit too hypnotized with how his precum connected to your folds with translucent webs.

“please... i— uh, need you to... need you inside”

“tsk, that’s the best you can do?” he teases, grabbing the fat base of his cock and pushing his cock against your slit, watching your lips spread to greet the swollen tip, knocking against your sobbing hole but not pushing in.

“Toji please... can’t— just put it in, please, I need you so bad” a few tears escape your eyes, adding to the fucked out expression you already had, and how could Toji refuse you when you look like that, like an utter mess, needy and craving to be filled, to be fucked and creampied like he’ve done multiple times.

“not good enough but i’ll let it pass this time...” grunted words at the same time his tip pushed past the tightness of your cunt, selfishly impaling you on his cock that’s desperate to cum in your young and fertile hole.

ִֶָ SUGURU

your older boyfriend who completely ruined you for any other man.

whether it’s with his fingers, tongue or cock, Suguru always leaves you the same, utterly ruined. there’s streaks of tears rolling down your eyes with each sharp twist of his fingers and tongue continuously abusing your slick and warm pussy, lapping and sucking on the puffy folds while his thumb rubbed on your clit, coaxing more and more delicious sounds of your lips, “Sugu.... it’s too much” you squeak with your thighs almost crushing his head, but your boyfriend wouldn’t have it any other way, staring up at you with hooded eyes and messy hair from where your fingers slide and tug.

he doesn’t respond, not yet at least, almost drunk in your scent, in your delicious taste, encouraged to rub his nose on your clit and shove his tongue into your hole, slurping more of your sweet juices until you’re cumming again, on the edge of screaming your heart out at the intensity.

“you can give me one more, right?” he lies, you and him know it’s not the last orgasm of the night, but your fucked out brain tells you otherwise, allowing your muscular and large boyfriend to hover your trembling body, and giving him enough room to slam his cock into your trembling cunt, fucking so rough and merciless your eyes roll beautifully, and the sounds you make are the prettiest he has ever heard, of course, driving you over and over the edge, your brain is almost fried, unable to speak or mumble a coherent sentence through the haze as you squirt all over his lap, the mess you already created with his saliva and your cum now turning into a puddle of mixed juices that drip down your thighs.

and of course, it’s definitely not the last, Suguru keeping you squirting until your vision goes black.

[chuluoyi]

✎ all of me

- gojo satoru x reader

you understand that some things in marriage just needs compromise. and he soon understands too, when you're at your most vulnerable and he fails to be by your side when you need him the most

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship (you're married & have a son!) argument, feral gojo, mentions of injury & blood, fluff

note: if it isn't obvious by now i'm in the mood of angst-hurt/comfort this week HEHE :)) this is longer than the usual love entry, so i hope you'll enjoy it!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Bantering with your husband is not uncommon―in fact, it happens on daily basis.

"Satoru― I'm talking to you!"

But having serious arguments with him is another matter entirely.

Your fists tightening at your sides, facing his unamused expression. How insufferable is he? You told him that everyday, but right now, he's truly surpassed previous levels of infuriating behavior.

"And I can hear you, sweetheart," he retorted, casting a glance your way. The term of endearment he used for you sounding almost like a sneer to your ears and you felt offended.

"I don't think you're taking this seriously," you griped, trying to calm your emotions, still balling your hands. "Someone is following our son on his way back from school―how can you be this... flippant?!"

Numerous photograph of your son exiting the school building from different angles had arrived in your mailbox, and if it wasn't a creepy warning from those who placed a target on his back, then you didn't know what it was.

Satoru let out an exasperated grunt. "I'm telling you, I'll pick him up for the rest of the week. No one will lay a hand on him."

You gritted your teeth. "And I'm telling you, they're trying to make you do just that. Even morons know not to mess with you― they're leaving hints, and you're taking the bait!"

Contrary to what you believed, Satoru felt just as worried as you upon knowing that someone might have marked his precious son, who was now six years old and had recently started attending preschool.

But this is where your approaches differ. You are always the cautious one, overanalyzing each detail, while he leans towards being impulsive, often resorting to brute force.

"Who do you think can stand a chance against me?" Satoru challenged with a real sneer this time. "Remember my words, wife, no one is going to hurt me, you or our baby. I'll end them where they stand."

"That's not the point!" you threw your hands in the air, irate. "Satoru, they're going to take advantage of―"

"Look, I don't want to argue with you." Satoru's gaze was hard on you, his tone clipped, and it made you stiffen. "His safety comes first— and you, of all people, should know I'd never let anything happen to him. You need to quit nitpicking and have a little faith in me."

"I know you are more than capable, but you are not―!"

And then he said it, and his words piercing through you like a knife―

"Don't compare me to you," your husband remarked a little too coldly. "I can do things you can't. Just rest your pretty head, I'll take care of the rest."

Nevermind that he blatantly dismissed your skills as a jujutsu sorcerer, nevermind that he totally didn't listen to you at all―he just went and made himself look like some sort unparalleled god, forgetting how much his hubris could actually take him.

And all these thoughts only made you angrier.

"So be it then." You tried desperately to hold yourself from shaking because you'd be damned if you showed it to him. "A word of advice, Satoru: beware of your arrogance."

With those words, you spun around, marching off toward your son's room, because no way in hell was you going to sleep with that obnoxious prick tonight.

But when you caught the sight of your baby scuttling away from the gap in the door, a fragment of your heart crumbled. Oh. He has seen it all.

In Gojo Satoru's mind, he is made of two things: a powerful jujutsu sorcerer and a family man.

With his immense strength, comes a certain responsibility. And with that responsibility, certain habits have formed. If you just took a few seconds to breathe and looked back throughout the past decade he'd spent with you, you'd know that in fact―

It was also his way to shield you. Satoru stands by the principle that you and his little boy must be protected at all cost, and he most certainly would pull all stops to do just that.

But frankly, he couldn't deny that he felt insulted by how defiant you were. Did you really think he would let anyone ever touch your―his―son? He wouldn't, they'd meet his wrath first and you should've known that.

Still, something akin to guilt nudged at his conscience as he lay alone in your shared bed that night. It felt strange not having you cuddling him. He felt empty.

. . .

None of your shampoo-scented pillow, none of your nightdresses, all of it replaced by a single photo hanging in the wall and the urn of ashes—

Abruptly, he jerked his eyes open, shaken from the most dreadful nightmare he had experienced—

Of you no longer by his side.

“Mama.” Your little boy looked up to you with his doe-blue eyes in the next day, his hand gripping yours. “I’ll be fine.”

You were accompanying him to the preschool. While Satoru had requested Ichiji to drive him, you insisted on tagging along to keep a watchful eye as well. You'd leave your husband to pick him up later just as he wanted.

“Huh?” you turned to him, tilting your head.

“I'll stick by Uncle Ichiji's side the entire time,” he replied in a murmur. “And papa will be picking me up too later. If there are bad guys, they'll get him first.”

You bit your lip, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. Your boy witnessed your outburst last night and hadn't inquired about it until now, and even then, he was trying to reassure you.

“So… don’t fight.” His round, cerulean eyes then darted towards you, blinking hesitantly, causing you to catch your breath.

He looks so much like Satoru. At six years old, he was the spitting image of him, except his personality—he took after you in that area. It was as if your son was a softer, more innocent version of him. And your heart twisted, remembering your argument last night.

Don't compare me to you.

With a sigh, you bent down to be eye-level with him and managed a smile, holding both of his little hands. “I’m sorry… it was just misunderstanding last night, okay? Don’t worry.”

“…really?”

“Really. Mama and papa were just tired,” you tried to reason, a thin smile on your face. "It's going to be okay, just like you said, yeah? Papa will beat the bad guys out there."

“Will he pull through...? If they bring a knife, and he's just there laughing, they can cut him.”

A giggle escaped your lips at your baby's innocent wonderings, easing the ache in your heart as you recalled how Satoru humored him in so many ways.

You gently poked your son in the cheek. "Nah, do you remember what he always goes on about?"

He puffed up his cheeks in response, his expression turning sour as if combing through memories of hundreds of shenanigans Satoru had instigated to recall his words. You let out a hearty chuckle, finding him so adorable.

"He's strong, he's going to win. He always does."

"Oh. Mmm." Your son scrunched up his nose cutely, before looking away and squeezing your hand. A sincerer smile bloomed in your lips, heart melting at the sight of your growing munchkin.

You will protect him. And maybe you could patch things up with Satoru later that night. Maybe yesterday you were just too paranoid.

That was the plan... at least until your son suddenly screamed—someone wrenching him from your grasp. Without a second thought, you reacted, flipping the attacker away from you and him.

. . . and that was the beginning of how everything started to unravel so terribly that day.

"Gojo-san...! There's been an incident!"

He got that call right after he finished some things with Yaga. Satoru teleported to the preschool right away, only to be greeted by a scene of utter chaos.

Several teachers stood outside the building, and police officers were present at the scene. It was all a blur of cursed energy until his eyes caught sight of—

His little boy, red-faced and obviously in fear, was clinging to Ichiji, who was frantically making calls. Some teachers gathered around him were seemingly trying to coax him to speak.

He didn't waste a second to dash towards him, tearing through the crowd.

"Are you okay? Hey, buddy, what happened?" Satoru pulled him away from Ichiji and turned him over, crouching to his level to check for any signs of injury or harm.

And upon seeing him actually here, his son's eyes immediately welled up with tears, and Satoru felt a chill run through his veins as he broke into sobs, which quickly turned into heart-wrenching wails.

"Mama—! F-find mama—!" the little boy choked out through his tears, clutching onto his shirt tightly and crumbling in his embrace, thoroughly inconsolable.

Satoru's sharp gaze quickly swept over the scene, seeking any clues, while he tightened his hold over him. It was then he noticed traces of your cursed energy mingled with blood.

They hurt you.

"Hey, kiddo—listen to me, it's going to be alright, yeah?" Satoru said, gently pulling away to wipe away his tears, holding the boy's face tenderly in his hands. "Go with Ichiji for now, okay? I'm going to bring mama back, I promise."

He didn't need to be told twice. Your son is always obedient when it matters the most. He gave him a small nod, still shaking with tears.

"Don't worry," he flashed a reassuring smile and ruffled his hair. "I'm the strongest, remember? I'll get her back," he vowed once again. "She'll be fine. Wait for me until then, yeah?"

Ichiji was ready to leave as he had called for those in headquarters as backup in case anything were to happen again. Trusting him to keep his son safe, Satoru took off as soon as he could no longer see the sight of his son's tear-streaked face trying to watch him as the car pulled away.

"I won't repeat myself— where is my wife?"

Satoru wasn't playing this time. He skipped past taunts and just plain threats. These little fries, he thought.

The man he held by the throat was in a lot of distress. "Hyaaa! It's him! Please, please, let me go! I'm acting under orders!"

He then flung him across the wall— might have added more cursed energy than necessary.

At the moment, his entire focus was on trying to locate you. He couldn't let his mind wander to anything else; in fact, he didn't permit himself to.

It didn't take him long to piece together the general location of where you were through the residual of your cursed energy. They stationed several hooligans in this abandoned warehouse to stall him, but he got rid of them quickly and he could sense that you were close by.

"It's Gojo Satoru!"

"Run! Ruuuun!"

What a pain. They picked the wrong person to mess with, and Satoru's lips curled into a manic grin as he opened his palm, pulling them in—

"Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue."

Chaos erupted as the building collapsed around him. He hoped you would realize he was here and manage to avoid getting caught in the wreckage. He was sure you'd know though.

And true to his thoughts, soon he found you— blasting your attacker away with a powerful kick.

Satoru thought that you were a sight to behold, really. And he was about to call out to you when he felt it.

It happened almost in an instant. The way his heart dropped to his stomach, and how his body reacted, barely whispering the incantation for Red as he shot it at something lurking behind you—

At that moment, the only thing you were aware of was the foul stench of a curse. Time seemed to stop before the overwhelming force of Red expelled it away from you.

But before then, you experienced a searing, white-hot pain that scorched through your flesh and pierced your abdomen—

"Y/N―fuck―!" The voice that came from Satoru's throat was raw and laden with panic.

He pulled you against him protectively as you collapsed, blinded by pain. He immediately felt warmth spreading across his lower body—your blood was rapidly drenching his shirt, and he felt a shiver down his spine.

You held onto him tightly while suppressing your scream, feeling every bit of your strength drain away along with the dark crimson blood that poured out of you.

"―toru―" you managed to croak amidst the scalding pain, curling and whimpering in his hold.

"Hey― sweetheart, please―" his voice rang in your ears, as he pressed down on your wound. His hands were shaking, and you clawed at him and groaned in agony. "I-I'm taking you back now― You're going to be alright, yeah?"

The wound was beyond anything you had experienced before, causing you to cry out and gasp for air. It was almost as if something fried your insides. It was hard to stay conscious.

"I've got you now. You're going to be okay." His voice was coarse, as he hurriedly carried you out. And he tried not to let the full-blown panic take over him when your body went limp in his arms, your breaths slowing, head lolling in his chest.

"You're going to be alright! You hear me, sweetheart? You're going to make it. Our baby― he's waiting for you. I promise you, you're going to be fine―"

Perhaps he was trying to tell that to himself, because despite the excruciating pain, a wave of reassurance washed over you.

You were in the arms of the strongest sorcerer alive, what more could you possibly afraid of?

A special grade curse. They had actually unleashed a potent curse and likely aimed at him as their final card—until it veered off course and struck you, leaving a searing gash across your abdomen.

Satoru felt numb as he sat in the waiting room in his bloodied uniform. You got hurt so terribly right in front of his eyes, and all he could feel was this profound void that seemed to bore through him and pierced his soul.

He was supposed to protect you. He said it to your face that nothing and no one would touch your son, and it was in his wedding vows that he'd protect you with his life too.

And yet what happened?

If only he was faster. If only he was able to pull you to him and protect you with his infinity—none of this shit would have happened.

Seeing your face twisted in agony and smeared with blood made him feel sick to his stomach. Inside that OR, you hovered on the brink of life and death, and he was here, unable to do anything.

Satoru rested his head against the wall, feeling a sharp pain surge through his chest. He remembered waking up to your face every morning, the way your touches felt, and how you had brightened his world for the past decade. If he lost you now... he wouldn't survive it. He would wreck anything, everything—

"Papa!" and came his voice of reason. Satoru immediately discarded his bloodstained jacket by instinct, throwing it away before his boy could see it, with Ichiji and Megumi closely trailing behind.

His son crashed himself into him and threw his little arms around his torso, crying—and in that very second, the thump of his heart sounded louder in his ears. Somehow it felt like a knife that twisted his insides.

"Hey, kiddo." Satoru repositioned him so that he would sit on his lap and hugged him, patting him in the back. "There, there... it's alright, yeah? Mama is inside, she'll get better soon."

Your little boy pulled away and wiped his eyes, and Satoru chuckled as he helped him blow his nose. His child was incredibly adorable, and his actions mirrored yours to such an extent that it made Satoru's heart soften.

"Mama g-got hurt trying to... tell me to g-go..." the boy suddenly said amidst his quieter sniffles. "And... she s-said... papa— i-is strong and g-going to win..."

You believe in him. Ignoring the ache in his chest, only able to reply him with a "Yeah..."

Not long after, Shoko emerged from the operating room and informed him that the surgery had been successful, though you would likely need to have a one-week stay in the hospital for observation. He intended to move you to the VIP suite and stay the night there, but then he remembered his son, who was holding his hand.

Satoru crouched down and patted him in the head, fixing him a smile. "See? Mama is okay, but she needs to sleep here to get even better. Now you go home first with big brother Megumi, yeah?"

Your son adored Megumi and often begged you to let him stay over at his place, but this time he looked hesitant, fiddling with his little fingers. "Really? Mama will be home... soon?"

"Mm-hmm, the more she sleeps here, the faster she'll go back home, alright?"

And with that, his baby nodded and Satoru turned to Megumi with a nod. "Thank you for this, Megumi."

The boy whose life he had once saved on some sort of a whim, now grown up and shared the same concern he had for you, Fushiguro Megumi had never before witnessed his benefactor expressing such sincere gratitude for anything before.

When you came to, your body felt as heavy as lead.

The discomfort in your abdomen made you flinch, and you almost let out a groan until you turned to your side and saw him.

Satoru was asleep while sitting in the sofa next to your bed, dark circles evident under his eyes. It might have been your imagination, but his cheeks appeared to be slightly red too.

You tried to recall what had happened to you when it came back—you urging your son to run away as you let yourself being taken away, almost escaping from that warehouse, the flash of excruciating pain, and Satoru's stricken voice.

So he must've been here since last night. Any remnants of your disagreement seemed to have vanished, seeing him there with you, barely covering himself with the blanket, with a frown still marking his forehead even in his sleep.

You wanted to reach out to him until the movement sent a sharp jab to your stomach and you cried out a bit.

In that split second, Satoru's eyes jerked open, and realizing you were awake, his gaze locked onto yours. "Y/N—" But your strained whimper and expression told him everything. "Does it hurt? I-I'll get Shoko, wait—"

And then he hit the call button. Throughout it all, he kept a firm grip on your hand for reassurance. A few minutes later, Shoko arrived and examined your wound, subsequently administering painkillers to alleviate your discomfort.

"It's going to leave a scar," she explained grimly, showing the mangled skin where the curse had made its mark on you, and seeing that, Satoru clenched his fists.

Shoko sighed, empathizing with her friend's frustration. "It's going to fade with time, don't worry. You did well, Gojo. You brought her here quickly. Had you been even slightly later, there could have been an irreversible damage to her organs."

But your husband remained quiet, unable to bring himself to look at you. And after she left, you tried to finally voice your question to him.

"O-our—"

"He's fine," Satoru immediately answered, squeezing your hand. "Our boy is fine. I'll tell Megumi to visit later—he's with him."

A sigh of relief came out of you. "Thank... goodness."

But his expression seemed to fall even further after hearing your response. Satoru settled himself on the seat next to you and lowered the rail on your bed, allowing you to be even closer to each other.

"Do you not feel any pain anymore?" he asked then, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. He looked so sad, a stark contrast of how he usually was, and it bugged you.

"No... I feel fine now."

"Then, can I hug you?"

Of course you nodded without a second thought, and carefully, he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you close and resting his face on the crook of your neck.

You knew what it was. Satoru was still visibly shaken by what had happened to you, and he wasn't great at expressing himself, so he tried to find consolation through this physical closeness instead.

"I'm okay..." you patted his back, trying to convince him. "I'm alright now, yeah?" But to your surprise, suddenly his whole body started to shake. "Satoru...?"

“…’m sorry.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he nuzzled you. “I shouldn't... have let you get this hurt...”

It always amazes you how Satoru always gets this distressed whenever you sustain any injury. You had seen him cry precisely two times now—once after you gave birth to your son and experienced severe bleeding, and now.

"It's not your fault..." you whispered in response. "You... have protected me well."

He held you tighter, his tone faltering. "I didn't."

"You have..." you stroked his hair, trying to convince him. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

Hearing you say that made Satoru's chest ache. The thought of something like this happening to you was unimaginable, and now that it had, he couldn't come to terms with seeing you hurt right in front of him.

"Don't—" he choked on his voice, his breath trembled against your neck. "Don't ever put yourself in danger again. If something happened to you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself..."

You couldn't make that promise. Despite the pleading in his voice, you knew deep down that your son's life—and his—meant more, and given the chance, you would obviously save theirs for yours.

“Satoru... I love you, you know that, right?”

So you simply embraced him close, hoping that in this life, you would live long enough that he would never have to see you like this again.

Epilogue

"Papa, how do I become stronger?"

Satoru blinked when his son asked him that so innocently and curiously, taken aback as he led him to your private room later that afternoon. "Oh? What brought this on?"

His first and only son, a perfect miniature of himself, pursed his lips. "I don't want Mama to get hurt again..."

Satoru's heart warmed at his baby’s sincere words, and despite himself, he chuckled.

"What's funny?" his son leveled a glare at him. "I'm being serious."

"Well, aren't you such a good boy? Don't worry, kiddo, I'll teach you my ways~"

"What ways?"

"Well, no need to rush, pumpkin. First of all, you will have to harness your skills and then you have to be more like me—"

"Do I have to be like you…? Is there no other way?"

"—? What's wrong with being more like me?"

"Everything...?"

[skyrigel]

Simon who just can't say no to you.

It has been like this from the moment his eyes met yours, a very terrible Monday morning if he hadn't met you but now that you remembered, it's the most beautiful day of both of your lives.

“Is that seat taken ?” Simon looked up at the small morning roused and still sleep laden voice, you were as knackered as you sounded, probably runnin’ on black coffee and cuppa noodles.

“Yeah.” He wasn't even aware how quickly he said it, “Yes, ofcourse miss.”

He scooted his big thighs together, trying to make as much space as possible for you and as if some divine thought struck him, he looked up — cheeks tinting with red.

“Would ya’ like window ?”

“No, But thankyou for asking.” You answered, sitting next to him and making sure to leave some space because those legs were thick and definitely his big cock needed some room.

Fuck, look away —

“Ghost...” Another man climbed inside bus, his eyes trained on you and your partner who's apparently Ghost ?!?!

“Wot ?” He said roughly, his shoulders pressed against yours

“Nothin’ old man.” The other man smirked and sat next to a Grandma who knitted half a sweater.

“Your friend?” You asked.

“ A little...Simon.” He said, “Simon Riley.”

“Oh.” You smiled, feeling blush creep up your neck and cheeks.“I like Ghost better.” you would've booed if you weren't feeling so tingly and nervy.

“You would like Simon more.”

“I would like that.” You couldn't believe you were flirting on a Monday morning.

One month later

“Ghost...” John horribly snorted, sprawling on couch as Simon paid him no attention.

“Wot ?” He asked, giving you his pinky as you painted the last letter ‘Y’ over hot pink nail polish, completing your H-E-L-L-O K-I-T-T-Y nail art, every letter on each nail.

“Nothin’ old man.” John smirked as you clicked your tongue, beaming up at Simon.

“Done !” You blew air and flashed a grin as Simon brought his hand up to examine your work.

“Done Luvie.” He smiled, bumping your nose with ‘I’ on his nail.

And you also liked Simon better.

Grim Reaper! Simon

Masterlist

[veritasangel]

༊*·˚ I Wanna Be Down

Ft. Sukuna, Geto & Gojo, Choso, Nanami

sum: how they react when you send them a sexually explicit photo/video.

warnings! fempov, inappropriate pics/vids, piv (unprotected in nanami's), creampie, mutual masturbation, phone sex, fingering, oral (receiving/giving), perv choso, geto shares with gojo, age gap (legal) in sukuna's & nanami's

wc: 9.3k (sorry!) - masterlist

a/n: got carried away with writing nanami's, kinda wanna make his a proper series.

୨୧ Suguru Geto & Satoru Gojo - boyfriend & his best friend

Suguru was right in the middle of fixing up a car when he got a video from you. He didn't know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't you riding a dildo, moaning his name. He watched the way you bounced up and down, the sounds you made as your body trembled.

His cock was instantly hard. But you know he's busy and that he can't come back to fuck some sense into you, hell, it's probably why you did it. So instead, he opts to find a solution.

He pulls out his phone and then types a message to Satoru.

Go to my apartment, she's all yours 1 attachment

Satoru needs little to no persuasion and quickly turns up at your place using that spare key he never returned and heading straight up to your bedroom.

He smiles when he sees you, an eyebrow raised. "Well, well, well. Looks like someone's been having some fun without me," he says, closing the door behind him and walking towards the bed. He's already hard, his cock straining against his pants.

He sits on the edge of the bed, reaching over to pull the duvet down. "Now, now, don't be shy. Sugs sent me over to take care of you, and I always do what he asks." His voice is low and smooth, his blue eyes shining in the light.

He inches closer, his hand dipping under the blankets to grasp your thigh. "Besides, I know how much you love my cock. And I've been dying to get my hands on you again." He smirks.

You roll your eyes, acting annoyed. "Wanted my boyfriend, not his little puppy."

Satoru snorts, still smiling. "Oh, you're such a tease, brat. I'm not his puppy." Closer, he leans in, and his lips whisper in your ear, "Besides, he's trusting me to look after you, so show me what you've been doing."

He pulls back, but his hand doesn't leave your thigh. "Shall we get started then without him? Or perhaps I should call him now?" There is something teasing in the way Satoru sounds as he begins sliding up your inner thigh.

✧. ┊    

The phone in Suguru's pocket vibrates; Satoru's call lights up the screen. He picks it up and connects his earphones before setting it down on the workbench.

"Hey, Sug. I'm here with her," Satoru's voice comes through the line, followed by rustling fabric. "She's being a little brat, saying she wanted you, not me."

He can hear you huffing in the background. He chuckles, shaking his head. "Well, you know how to handle her, don't you?"

Suguru's eyes fall back on the car as his mind strays to the sounds through the phone. He can almost see Satoru's hands on your body, his cock hard and ready for you, like he always is. The way he'd tease you, how you'd plead, how Satoru would whine—lost in his own pleasure.

"Well, then, make sure she's satisfied, because I can't join." Suguru says, his voice low and husky with desire. Satoru puts the phone to the side on loud speaker as he leans in to kiss you.

Suguru's cock throbs in his pants at the sound of you and Satoru through the phone. He could hear sounds of the kissing, rustling of fabric as the clothes are removed, he imagines Satoru touching all over your body, his lips trailing down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin.

"Fuck, Satoru," he groans, not being able to get himself off at the moment. Nobody else is at the workshop but he's not taking that risk, so he just listens as he works. "Don't keep her waiting," Suguru says into the phone, his voice low.

Satoru slides his hand between your legs, and he grins, feeling your wetness. His fingers slide into you, and you gasp and arch your back. He looks at the phone. "She's so wet and ready for me, Suguru. I think she's been missing your cock, huh?" Satoru's voice dripped with lust as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

"You're going to have to make do with mine, though." Satoru grins down at you as he lays down on the bed, kissing up your thighs before diving into your pussy.

Suguru can hear the moans and whimpers that came from you, and his stomach was hard in his pants. He is relieved Satoru was taking care of you, but he couldn't help the thought of wanting to be the one to fill you up.

"I'll make sure she's satisfied, Suguru," Satoru vows, his voice husky with desire. "Might even start preferring me to you."

"Never." you say, lightly smacking Satoru.

Satoru chuckled, a smile on his face as he went back to eating you out. "Oh, yeah? We'll see about that." He said, his tongue flicking against your clit.

Suguru's smirk at your denial is proud. He absolutely loves how loyal you are to him, even though you're here with Satoru. He would make it up to you when he gets home and show you just how much better he is.

Satoru's tongue swirls around your clit, sucking and licking, and you squirm and moan at the sensations. "Mmm, you taste so good. Bet Suguru's jealous as hell right now," Satoru purrs, his breath hot on your sensitive flesh.

He pulls back, his chin glistening with your juices, "Hey, Sug, listen to this pretty pussy—all wet and ready for me."

Satoru dives back in, his tongue going deep inside of you as his nose presses against your clit.

Suguru groans at the sound, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants. "That video you sent was so fucking hot. Seeing you on that dildo, fuck, it made me so bloody hard. It's not fair to send it when I can't come see you though, is it?" says Suguru in a low tone.

He could hear the muffled moans from Satoru as he ate you out, the wet sounds of his tongue sliding through your folds. Suguru's cock twitched at the idea of joining you two, burying himself deep inside you.

"Make her cum, Satoru," he demanded, the harshness in his voice spiking with desire. "I want to hear her scream for you."

Knowing that, Satoru tries even a bit harder now. His tongue lashed on your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you. He could feel you clenching around him, tensing up, your orgasm nearing. Satoru swipes his tongue along your folds as his fingers glide in and out to hit that spot inside you.

Your orgasm was building, tension welling in your body. Satoru's lips were on your clit, sucking hard as his tongue flicked against it. Your hips bucked off the bed as your moans grew louder, more desperate. Satoru's hands had to hold you down to stop you squirming away.

"Sugs- I think I'm going to have to keep her for myself," Satoru teases, his voice thick with lust as his tongue moves through your folds.

Satoru's tongue doesn't stop. His fingers are back, pumping in and out of you, while his lips suck on your clit. You can feel yourself getting close.

"Come on, baby," Satoru presses, his voice muffled against your pussy. "Cum for me. I want to taste you. Let him hear how good I am."

Suguru groaned at the sound of you, close to your climax. "That's it, baby. Cum for him. Let me hear you."

He sucked hard on your clit, fingers curling inside, and that was enough. Waves of your orgasm crashed over you from head to toe. Your body shook as you cried out in pleasure.

Satoru licks up your juices as his tongue swirls over your clit while you come. He backs up a bit, looking down at you with a grin on his face, his face slick from your cum. "I could eat this pretty pussy all day," he moans, his voice laden with lust.

Suguru chuckled, shaking his head. "I bet you could, you little insatiable bastard. But she needs your cock now, don't you think?" He can hear you whimpering, your body still trembling from your orgasm.

Suguru's cock throbs with every pulsation at the thought, pissed he can't be there to see you.

Satoru smirked as he hurriedly undressed. He reached for his wallet and pulled the the condom out and tore it open, rolling it down his hard length.

"Beg for it." he murmurs, his voice suddenly deep and husky. "Beg me to fuck you."

Suguru groans at the sound, his cock throbbing in his pants. "Tell him what you want, baby."

"As if I'd beg you, pretty boy," you tease, since you know the nickname drives him mad.

Satoru smirks at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, so that's how it is," he says in a pulled-away breath, "I don't know how he deals with you."

Suguru's lips curled at the edges and he chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, I handle her just fine. She just likes to be a little difficult." He could hear you huffing in annoyance, though he knew you were just teasing. "Come on, baby," Suguru soothed, his voice low, seductive. "I know you want him. I can hear it in your voice."

Satoru grins and leans down, lips brushing against yours as his tongue slides into your mouth, his cock grinding against you in a torturous tease of what you could possibly have.

"Just say please," Satoru purrs against your lips. "A nice pretty please and I'll let you have it."

"I'm not going to say-"

His hand comes up to grab a fistful of your hair, tugging ever so slightly as Satoru demands in a low voice, "Say it.".

You narrowed your eyes at him, though you couldn't deny the burn that now lay in them. "Ugh fine-" you sighed, "Please, toru? Please can you fuck me?" you asked with a scowl, though the lust behind your eyes showed differently.

Satoru grins, his eyes dark with hunger, as he positions his cock at your entrance. He doesn't hold back, too desperate to feel you. In one powerful motion, he stuffs you full, to which you gasp and arch off the bed as he bottoms out inside you.

"Good girl," he praises low and possessively, drawing back to let his cock slide from you only to plunge into you once more.

Satoru's thrusts, deep and powerful, his cock stretching you wide open, filling you in a way that the dildo couldn't. He began to set a punishing rhythm, pulling out almost all the way before he slammed back into you again.

The way he fills you is intoxicating—every slap of his balls against your ass, every growl of your name, holding onto your hips and trying to keep control.

A shiver runs down your spine with each thrust. He changes the angle again to repeatedly hit that sweet spot, which makes you moan loud enough for Suguru to hear. He's big and being filled up to this degree is breath-taking.

Suguru groans at the sound of your moans. His cock in his pants throbs. "Fuck-," he says, his voice hoarse with desire. "Love hearing you moan like that for him."

Satoru grins back, his hips smacking up against yours. "That's it, baby. Let him hear exactly what he's missing." He bends down lower, his teeth raking at your neck, biting hard enough to leave a mark that he know Suguru will love and hate at the same time.

You moan, your nails digging into his back, encouraging him on. Satoru's cock brushes against all of those spots inside you, and it feels heavenly. It's not quite like anything else, full, stretched in a way that seems to ache, but in a good way. Of course, nothing like your boyfriend but you can't deny he's good at what he does.

Suguru breathes heavily, having forgotten about the car he's working on, just focusing on the phone. "You're such a good girl, taking his cock so well," he praises in a thick voice. "I can't wait to get back, to feel you wrapped around me."

Satoru chuckles as his thrusts grow harder, faster. "Well, you're going to have to wait your turn- I'm not done with her yet." He starts slowing his thrusts as he feels his pleasure rising and his cock twitching inside you. "Fuck, baby. You're gonna make me come," he grunts. His voice is thick with desire as his whines fill the room because his cock is so sensitive at every movement of your walls.

Suguru's voice in his seductive, low tone as he praises you over the phone, "That's it. Such a good girl. You're doing so well, taking his cock like that. I'll reward you later."

Satoru's thrusts speed up, his grip on your waist getting tighter as he chases his release. "You're so lucky I put a condom on, Sug." he growled, his cock throbbing inside you. "Jus' wan' fill this pretty pussy up." he groans, biting down on your shoulder.

Satoru's orgasm was close, he could feel it, the tension rising with every thrust. Your own approaching even quicker, encouraged by his moans and Suguru's sweet praise.

Satoru's thrusts become more insistent, his hips jerking forward into yours with a fierce, almost animalistic energy. His cock pulses inside, the head most surely swelling in preparation to burst. "Fuck, Sug, I'm close," Satoru growled in his tightened voice of lust.

His thrusts become falter, as his movements become sloppier. "Cum for me, baby," Satoru groans, his voice so low and hungry. "Wanna hear you moan my name."

Your orgasm crashes down, your body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. Your pussy clenches around Satoru's cock, milking him for all he's worth. "Fuck Toru!" you let out a cry of his name, your body arching off the bed at hitting that peak.

"Fuuck-" he whines, his cock throbbing as he follows you over the edge. His hips stutter, cock pulsing with his cum as it fills the condom. He collapses on top of you, energy vibrating through his frame from the release.

"God, you feel so good," Satoru pants, pushing his forehead against yours as he comes down from his high. He stays inside you, savouring the aftershocks.

Suguru doesn't hang up, still on the line and hearing your pleasure sounds as his own cock throbs torturously in his pants. "Such a good girl."

Satoru slowly pulls out, slipping the condom off his cock with a wet pop. He disposes of it and then climbs back onto the bed, lying beside you as he pulls you into his embrace.

Suguru's voice is tender, his praise soft and gentled in your ear. "You did good, sweetheart."

Satoru chuckles, nuzzling your neck. "I can sweet talk her, don't worry." he teases, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

Suguru laughs, shaking his head. "I'm sure you can, toru. But I want to hear her voice, know she's okay."

You smile, your voice soft and sleepy, as you reply, "I'm okay, Sug. More than okay. Toru was great. I'm just sleepy now and I miss you." you yawn.

Suguru chuckled, his voice was warm and affectionate. "I bet you do, baby. Why don't you catch a nice nap with Satoru, and I'll wake you guys up once I get back?"

You murmur your agreement, feeling your eyes grow heavy already.

Satoru kisses the top of your head, then pulls you closer. "Don't work too hard, I'll look after her." Satoru reassures Suguru as he ends the call, his eyes closing as he leans into you.

୨୧ Kento Nanami - dad's best friend

Nanami's eyes widened as he stared at the picture you sent him earlier, depicting you in lingerie. His heart raced, his pulse quickened, and his breathing grew shallow. The image of you in that revealing outfit played in his mind, leaving him aching for more.

He knew it was wrong to entertain such thoughts, especially when you were his best friend's daughter. But the temptation was too great to ignore. The line had blurred, and Nanami found himself craving the warmth of your body and the feel of your touch.

A sense of guilt plagued him, but he couldn't help but appreciate the beauty you exuded. The thought of you wearing such lingerie for him sent a thrill down his spine, and he found himself powerless to resist.

With a heavy heart, he responded to your message, inviting you to his house. He knew he was opening a Pandora's box, but he couldn't bring himself to deny the desires that consumed him. Nanami steeled himself, preparing for the consequences that would inevitably follow.

His heart raced as he heard the knock on his door, and he took a deep breath to steady his nerves. He knew this was a path he shouldn't have taken, but the allure of being with you was too strong to resist.

He opened the door, his gaze immediately drawn to you. You looked even more stunning in person, wearing a pretty dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. Nanami's eyes lingered on you for a moment before he cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure.

"Please, do come in," he said, moving aside to grant you entry. His heart was pounding while you moved past him; the smell of your perfume invaded his nostrils.

Nanami couldn't help but be struck by your beauty. You looked beautiful in your dress, your hair was stunning and in your eyes, something mischievous gleamed. He knew he was playing with fire, but the temptation was too great to resist.

He brushed against you, making contact that sent jolts of electricity through his body. He had to fight the urge to pull you closer. "I'm glad you could make it," he said, his voice low and husky. "I've been looking forward to seeing you all day."

He reached out and brushed some hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek. The touch was electric, and Nanami felt a surge of desire course through him. He knew he should stop, but he couldn't bring himself to pull away—not when you were so close, so tantalizing.

"I heard the business deal was a success, my Dad told me." you say

Nanami's eyes widened slightly at the mention of your father, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. He knew he was treading on dangerous ground, engaging in a forbidden relationship with his best friend's daughter. But the temptation was too great to resist.

He stepped closer to you, his hand finding its way to your waist. "Yes, the deal went well," he said, his voice low and husky. "But I must admit, my thoughts have been... elsewhere today."

His gaze drifted over your body, taking in every curve and contour. Nanami felt a surge of desire, a need to touch you, to feel your skin against his.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "I've been thinking about you," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "About the picture you sent me. About the way you look in that lingerie."

His hand slid lower, cupping your ass and pulling you against him. He could feel the heat of your body, the way your breasts pressed against his chest. Nanami knew he was crossing a line, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Not when you were so close, so willing.

"You shouldn't send pictures like that to someone like me." Nanami says lowly as his eyes meet yours.

"Why not?"

Nanami's grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you closer, the heat between you becoming almost unbearable. "Because I'm far too tempted to act on it," he said, his voice thick with desire. "I'm a man, and you're a beautiful woman. Mix that in with the fact that you're the daughter of my best friend. It's a recipe for disaster."

He felt his heart pound, his body begging for more. Nanami knew it was wrong. He knew this would tear apart his friendship, nothing he could do would heal the damage it'd cause.

Yet, in your eyes, he saw the very same need staring back. A fight he knew he had no hope of winning but couldn't help himself from fighting. "I shouldn't have invited you here," he whispered, lips caressing your earlobe. "But I can't seem to resist the pull."

Though his words said it, Nanami couldn't bring himself to let go of you. His hand was still cupping your ass, holding you close with his body, while the other brushed strands of hair from your face. His heart was at a torn junction of what he knew was right and what his body was crying out for.

You give in, leaning forward to kiss him. The touch of your lips to his sent shivers down Nanami's back as it became electric. The kiss was passionate, hungry, full of the desire that had been building between the two of us. Nanami's hands tightened on your waist, drawing you in closer as he deepened the kiss.

The guilt and reservations he had moments before vanished, replaced by the primal need to be with you. His heart raced, and his thoughts became a jumble of lust and longing.

Despite the knowledge of the consequences, Nanami couldn't bring himself to push you away. The pull between the two of you was too strong, and the desire too great. For now, he would allow himself to indulge in the forbidden, to savour the moment before the harsh reality of their situation came crashing down.

Nanami's breath caught in his throat as he pulled back from the kiss, his eyes dark with desire. "That picture you sent me," he said, his voice low and husky. "It was the most erotic thing I've ever seen. The way the lingerie clung to you, the colour against your skin... it was like a dream come true."

He reached out, his fingers trailing down your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "I couldn't stop thinking about it. About you." his hands roam.

"How many college boys got that same picture, huh?" he said darkly.

You chuckled slightly, hearing the dangerous undertone in his words. You shake your head, looking up at him, "None."

Nanami's eyes widened, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of possessiveness. "Is that so?" he repeated, his voice thick with lust. "No one else has the privilege of seeing you like this, huh? Just me?"

He pulled you closer, his hand cupping the back of your head as he deepened the kiss. The thought of you being all his, of having this secret between the two of them, sent a thrill down his spine. Nanami knew this was wrong, that he was betraying your father's trust, but the allure of being with you, of having this forbidden connection, was too great to resist.

His hand slid up your back, reaching for the zipper of your dress. "I want to see more," he whispered against your lips, his breath hot and heavy. "I want to see everything."

Nanami's heart pounded in his chest, his body aching for you. He knew he was crossing a line, but the desire was too strong, the temptation too great. For now, he would allow himself to indulge in the forbidden, to savour the moment.

Nanami's fingers fumbled with the zipper, his heart racing as he waited for your response. He looked into your eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation or doubt. If you gave him the go-ahead, he would take you straight to his bed, unable to resist the pull any longer.

His body ached for yours, and as he stared into your eyes, he saw the same desire reflected back. Nanami knew he was walking a dangerous path, but in that moment, all he could think about was being with you, of feeling your body pressed against his, of losing himself in the pleasure that awaited.

"Please-" you whispered softly.

Nanami's breath caught in his throat as you whispered your plea, and he couldn't resist any longer. His fingers finally pulled the zipper down, revealing your lingerie-clad body. Nanami's eyes widened as he took in the sight, his desire for you growing even more intense.

He pulled you closer, his lips finding yours once more as his hands roamed over your body. His fingers traced the outline of the material, the lace against your skin. Nanami's heart pounded in his chest, his body aching for more.

He lifted you into his arms bridal style and carried you towards his bedroom. The weight of your body in his arms, the feel of your soft skin against his, was intoxicating.

Once in the bedroom, he laid you gently on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours. Nanami leaned in, his lips brushing against your collarbone, making their way down to your breasts. He lowered the fabric slightly, but didn’t remove it. He took a nipple into his mouth, sucking gently as his hand caressed the soft flesh of your thigh.

Nanami's hands roamed more, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. He could feel the heat of your core, the wetness that awaited him. His heart raced as he explored your body, his touch becoming more urgent with each passing moment. He knew he was crossing a line, but the temptation too great.

Nanami's voice was thick with lust as he whispered into your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "So fucking pretty, sweetheart," he murmured, his fingers dipping into your panties, teasing your clit. "You shouldn't be here, you should be a good girl and stay away from me."

His other hand cupped your breast, squeezing gently as he leaned down to take your nipple into his mouth once more. "But you're not a good girl, are you?" he asked, his voice dark and seductive. "You're here, and you want this just as much as I do."

Nanami's fingers continued to tease, his touch becoming more insistent as he sought to drive you wild. 

"Can you stop teasing me, jus' wanna get fucked by you." you whine, squirming slightly under his touch.

Nanami's hand slid down to your panties, his fingers teasing your clit through the damp fabric. "You want me to fuck you?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "You want me to slide my cock deep inside you and make you scream my name?"

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "I want to fuck you so deep, that you'll never forget this moment. That you'll crave me every time you close your eyes. I want to take it slow, to savour it."

Nanami's fingers slipped beneath your panties, teasing your entrance. "But not tonight... I can't spend too much time," he said, his voice filled with regret. "I have a celebratory dinner with your father later tonight, and I can't be late."

He pulled back, his eyes dark with desire as he looked down at you. "So, I'm going to have to make this quicker than I’d like," he said, his voice thick with lust. "But I'll make it up to you, I swear."

He quickly unbuckled his pants, freeing his hard cock. Nanami stroked himself a few times, his eyes never leaving your body. "You're so fucking beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Nanami watched as you lowered your panties and began to finger yourself, his eyes darkened with lust. The sight of you touching yourself, preparing for him, was almost too much to bear.

He settled between your legs, his cock pressing against your entrance. Nanami leaned down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss as he slowly pushed inside you. The feeling of your tight heat enveloping him was almost too much to bear, and he had to stop for a moment, savouring the sensation.

Nanami began to move, his thrusts slow and deep as he sought to bring you both to the brink of ecstasy. He knew he wouldn't last long, not with the way your body felt around him, but he wanted to make sure you came first.

Nanami's hips rocked forward, his cock sliding deep inside you. He began to set a rhythm, his thrusts slow and deep, seeking to fill you completely. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he moved inside you.

He leaned down, his lips finding your neck as he began to suck and bite at the sensitive skin. "You feel so fucking good," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "So tight, so perfect. I could stay inside you forever."

Nanami's thrusts became more urgent, his hips snapping against yours as he drove himself deeper inside you. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixing with your moans and his grunts of pleasure.Nanami's thrusts were desperate, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. 

Even as Nanami's movements became more urgent, he remained tender with you. His fingers caressed your hips, his grip firm but gentle. "That picture you sent me," he panted, his breath hot against your skin. "It turned me on like nothing else. I want more, sweetheart. I want to see you like that, all for me."

His hips began to move in a frenzy, his cock sliding in and out of you with rapid, powerful strokes. "I want to see you wearing nothing but lace, your body on display for me," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Just f'me, yeah?"

Nanami's grip on your hips tightened, his body tensing as he fought to hold back his release. "Want you to be mine" he whispered, his voice filled with determination. "I want you, and I'll make sure you're taken care of, that you never want for anything."

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he drove himself deep inside you. Nanami's fingers found your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in circles as he continued to thrust inside you. His lips found your neck, sucking and biting at the delicate skin as he sought to drive you wild with pleasure.

"Need you so fucking bad, I don't care." he says. His fingers moved faster, his touch becoming more insistent as he sought to bring you to the edge of ecstasy. His hips snapped against yours, his cock sliding deep inside you with each powerful thrust.

Nanami's breath hitched in his throat as he felt you tighten around him, the signs of your impending orgasm clear. He increased the pace of his fingers on your clit, his lips finding yours once more as he continued to thrust.

His own release was close, his body tensing with the effort to hold back. "Come for me, baby," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "I want to feel you clench around my cock."

Nanami's thrusts became more urgent, his body trembling with the force of his desire. He could feel his own climax building, the pressure in his balls growing more intense with every passing moment.

As you reached your peak, Nanami couldn't hold back any longer. With a guttural groan, he slammed into you one last time, his cock pulsing deep inside your body as he came. His release spilled into you, the warmth of his seed filling you as he held you close, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm.

Nanami's breathing became heavy, his body still pressed against yours as he tried to catch his breath. He leaned down, his lips finding yours in a tender kiss. "That was amazing," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. "You're amazing."

Nanami's fingers traced patterns on your skin, his touch gentle and soothing as he held you close. He knew he should pull out, should clean up and get ready for his dinner with your father, but he couldn't bring himself to move just yet. He wanted to stay like this, with you in his arms, for just a little longer.

Nanami's hips continued to slowly rock against yours, his cock sliding in and out of your sensitive body as he savoured the afterglow. He could feel his release leaking out of you, the warmth of it coating his still-hard shaft.

Nanami's eyes fluttered closed as you kissed his forehead, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He appreciated the gentle touch as you brushed the sweat-slicked hair back from his face.

Eventually he began to pull out of you, his movements slow and careful. He couldn't help but feel a pang of regret as he disconnected from your body, the sensation of being inside you fading away.

Nanami leaned back, his eyes meeting yours as he pulled away from your body. "Your father won't be coming back here after the dinner," he said, his voice low and husky. "So, you can stay here, take a shower, order some food, and settle into my bed if you'd like."

He reached for a towel, gently wiping your thighs. "I'll leave you some money for the food," he added, his voice filled with a sense of protectiveness. "You can stay here as long as you want."

Nanami's eyes held yours, the desire still there, but tempered by a newfound sense of care.

He stood up, his movements smooth and graceful. "I'll get dressed and leave you to it," he said, his voice filled with a sense of reluctance. "Make yourself at home. I'll see you when I get back."

୨୧ Choso Kamo - roommate

Choso laid across the couch, scrolling his phone, as a video message popped up in his notifications. He opened it, expecting a stupid video from his friends, but the preview threw him off.

It was a video of you, his roommate, and you were doing things that made his mouth go dry. He watched, riveted, as you slipped your fingers into your panties, biting your lip as you began touching yourself.

Choso knew he should stop watching, you would've sent that by accident, he should be a good friend and delete it. But he was too captivated—so it seemed—in seeing you play with yourself as the soft moans coming from your mouth filled his ears.

Choso's eyes widened, and his heart raced as he watched the video. He just couldn't believe what he was seeing. His cock began to harden; the veins became more pronounced by the second.

The way your body moved, your chest heaving up and down with every breath, your face flushed with such desire. It was impossible not to watch. He palmed his hardening cock through his pants, trying to ignore the ache building inside him. But as your moans grew stronger and your fingers moved faster, Choso couldn't hold back anymore.

He quickly stood up and headed straight for your bedroom. He knew that he shouldn't be in here, but he just couldn't help it, he wanted to be in your presence, near you. He walked in, eyes looking around everywhere, to the bed, to the dresser, to the closet. He could smell the room, your scent, and it only made him harder.

His eyes had locked on the laundry basket in the corner of the room. He walked to it, his cock aching with anticipation. It was too late and he couldn't stop now.

He had to dig his hands into the basket of clothes until he found the material he was looking for. Grasping a pair of your panties, he held them up to his face and inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent — your scent. It was heady, and he was even harder because of it.

He pulled the panties up to his mouth, unable to stop himself from licking along the damp patch. He could taste your essence, and it was so sweet—the most delicious thing in the world to him. He even let out a moan, his desire unrestrained.

He was too far gone. He needed to cum, had to release all this pent-up tension. It's your fault, you should have been more careful with those messages.

Choso laid down on your bed, feeling the softness of the mattress around him, satisfied in knowing that you sleep here every night. He adjusted himself, his cock starting to strain against his sweats. He reached into his pants and pulled his cock free. He ran his hand over it, feeling the precum dripping off the tip.

Now holding your panties in his free hand, he rubbed them over the precum on his finger and stroked himself with that too.

The image of you in the video blared in his mind again and again as he stroked himself to the memory of your moaning. The video, your smell from the panties, the thought of you being on this bed just proved to be too much for Choso. 

His free hand reached to his phone to turn the video on once more, and there you were, just the vision of your fingers buried deep in your pussy made him shiver. 

He pretended it was his fingers inside, that he could have his mouth on you, taste you for real.

He closed his eyes and imagined you were there beside him, your hands on his body, your lips against his skin. He ground his hips up into his open hand, visioning you riding him, your tits bouncing with each thrust. He'd wanted to bury his face in them, fuck you until you screamed his name.

Choso dropped the phone, noises of your moans still blaring within. He gripped at the bed sheets, using his fingers to drive down into the fabric. He could smell you in the fabric, making him even harder. He pressed his hips up, his cock brushing along his hand, and released a low moan as he felt his eyes roll back in his head at just how close he was getting to the edge.

He heard jingling keys and the front door opening. He knew that definitely meant you were home, but he just couldn't stop himself from what he was doing. He gripped at the bedsheets and stroked himself faster, his hips thrusting upwards. He could hear you in the living room now, closer now in your footsteps.

He knew he should stop, that he should hide what he was doing, but he didn't want to.

Choso's eyes locked onto yours as his breath got caught in his throat. He knows he should feel embarrassed, ashamed even, but he doesn't. Rather, he feels exhilaration at the rush of adrenaline that flares, having been caught.

He didn't stop touching himself; his hand was moving up and down his shaft. He could feel your eyes on him, but he didn't care. All he was able to focus on was the pressure building, the need to release it.

Choso watched as you walked over, your eyes falling onto the video playing on his phone. He expected you to get angry, to possibly even scream at him, or kick him out of the place but you just laughed.

You looked down at him, and for a moment, your eyes sparkled with mischief. "I see you liked the video?" you say, eyeing him as he slowly strokes his cock.

It hit Choso like an epiphany, that video was definitely sent to him on purpose by you He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe you were toying and teasing him like that.

He could feel his cock throb; he could feel the promise of pleasure about to tip over. He wanted to say something, wanted to apologise, but could find no words.

He just nodded, his eyes locked into yours. It was like your eyes were afire with the look of want. Choso's eyes never found reason to break away. You sat down on the edge of your bed as your fingers brushed across his cock. He breathed out a soft moan as his hips bucked up towards you. He felt his orgasm coming on, the pressure in his balls unbearable.

You leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear. "Do you want to cum, Choso?" He nodded but couldn't string the words in a line. He wanted to finish. Wanted to cum all over your hand, these panties. He wanted you to see this, to see him release all of this pent tension.

Choso just groaned lightly then when you began softly jerking him off. Your other hand reached for his chin, and you tilted his face up so you could look into his eyes. In them, he could see the desire; he felt the warmth seeping from them at him. He wanted to lose himself in you, to bury himself in you, to be completely consumed by you.

Your hand moved faster, the grip on his cock tightening, bringing his end nearer with each stroke being sent as a lightning jolt. He wanted to cum. He wanted so desperately to just release all this pent-up tension. But also, he wanted to prolong this moment, savour the feeling of your hand on him, in case he never felt it again.

His eyes contained a demand. "Please, please," he whimpered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please, I have to- God- let me cum for you." His hips bucked up, grinding into your hand, looking for more friction, more pleasure.

Choso's cock twitched, the veins seeming to throb in time with every movement of your slick hand. Pre soaked the head of his cock, a testimony to how close he was to the edge.

He whimpered again, his body shaking at being brought closer and closer. He wanted to cum so badly, here with you, it was like one of his fantasies coming to life.

Choso breathed heavily, his moans louder as the speed of your hand increased. His fingers laced with yours, as he tried to stay close to you, eyes on your every movement. He wanted to be yours in this moment. He knew he was only moments away from being unable to hold back.

Choso quivered and whined as your hand tightened around his cock. Every stroke, caress, and touch spread waves of pleasure through his body. His skin flushed with desire; his heart fluttering in his chest.

He lent into you, inhaled your scent as his eyes drifted closed momentarily. He felt that when he was with her, he could feel safe enough to just be vulnerable. It felt as though you could see him, the real him, behind that cold distant version of himself that everyone else saw.

He was losing it, and he was falling, but he didn't give a damn. He just needed it. He needed to be yours, completely and utterly.

Choso clung to you as his eyes rolled back slightly, his orgasm ripping through him. His cock pulsing in your hand, as he shot out thick ropes of cum. A loud moan erupted from him, his body shaking. He was weightless, floating as he rode the waves of pleasure.

You never stopped your hand from making those slow, consistent strokes, milking him for every last drop. He felt your warm caress encase him, your scent pervading his senses. It seemed as if he could stay in this moment forever: lost in your touch, lost in your very presence.

Choso's body lay limp from the orgasm that wrenched through him, his chest heaving for air. Some kind of pleasure-hazed, love-drunk look on his face and his mouth curling into a self-satisfied grin.

He reached up as his hand cupped your cheek. "That was incredible," he whispered; his voice was hoarse from moans. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers, "Thank you."

He should have been ashamed at letting you see him like that, but he wasn't. He felt thankful, felt he had been given a gift, a moment of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

"You're such a perv." you joke, ruffling his hair.

Choso laughed again, his hand still cupping your cheek. "Guilty as charged," he said. His voice was still hoarse, post orgasm. He leaned in, kissing you gently, as if afraid you might break.

He pulled back, his eyes holding yours "But you're the one who sent me the video," he accused, with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

"So, who's the real perv here?"

୨୧ Sukuna Ryomen - sugar daddy

Sukuna's eyes land on the screen of his phone, a message from you popping up. A picture of you in a raunchy lingerie set, one that you’d purchased with his card, a sight that instantly had him swallowing, adam’s apple bobbing.

He had been in his office, preparing for a meeting, and the sight of you in that lingerie set had him hard. It was a sight that he came to relish, to want more of. The thought of your soft skin and the way you would entwine your legs around him, the way you would moan his name, had him biting his lip.

Sukuna's hand darted down to his crotch, adjusting the bulge that was now evidently showing in his trousers. He couldn't leave the room, not in his current state. There was a meeting in half an hour and he needed this to go as soon as possible.

He grits his teeth, his hand working over his cock through his trousers. He needs to hear your voice, needs to have you talk to him. He didn't even think about it, just dialled your number, the phone ringing in his hands.

"Pick up." His voice was low and husky, his breathing heavy as he waited for your response. He needed you, needed to hear you. "I need to hear your voice."

You pick up the call and giggle, the sound sending a shiver down Sukuna's spine. He'd grown to love that sound, to crave it.

"You're wearing that for me, aren't you?" He growls, a low and dark sound. He'd always been dangerous, but with you, he felt something different. He felt...calmer. It was a strange feeling, one that he didn't want to lose.

"Tell me what you're doing right now, doll." His voice is low and seductive, the tone one that would make anyone weak at the knees. His breathing hitches, as he undoes his belt, tugging his trousers and boxers down a little so he could free his cock. He wanted to know every detail, to imagine your hands on your body as he worked his own cock. He needed to hear your voice, to hear your thoughts. He needed to know that you were thinking about him, about pleasing him.

You give in, running him through everything, the reasoning for the lingerie, what other sets you bought. You told him what you were thinking about, how you were touching yourself in this moment.

Sukuna's eyes widened at your words, his hand working faster over his cock. The thought of you touching yourself on your bed, thinking of him, had him groaning. He could almost imagine it, your soft hands roaming over your body, your fingers dipping into your pussy. The thought had him biting down on his lip, his eyes closing as he imagined it.

"Fuck, doll." He growls, his voice low and husky. "Tell me more. I want to hear every detail."

His hand works faster, his cock throbbing with need. He needed to know that you were thinking of him. He had always been such a selfish man, but with you, he felt so different. He wanted to please you, make you feel good. Though he was definitely still greedy and possessive, wanting you all to himself.

"Tell me what you're thinking about." He drawls, and his hand starts moving a little faster. He needed to know that you desired him, craved him, just as much as he did with you.

Sukuna waits, his hand working faster. The sound of his pants straining was loud in his ears, the need to release building.

"I'm thinking about you, Sukuna." Your voice is soft, breathy, the sound causing him to groan. "I'm thinking about how you'll fuck me when you come over, how you'll take me in a way that no one else can."

Sukuna could imagine it: your soft voice, your body trembling as you touched yourself. He could feel the way you would writhe under him, the way you would moan his name.

"I'm thinking about your cock, how it fills me up." You go on, your voice husky. "I want to feel you inside of me, hear you groan my name as you cum."

The sounds of you pleasuring yourself fill his ears; what gets to him is the thought of you touching yourself while you spoke of him, and Sukuna bites down on his lip.

"Sukuna..." Your voice hitches, the sound causing him to groan. "I want you to fuck me." The combination of how you sounded and you wanting him was almost too much. Sukuna could feel his release building, his hand working faster over his cock.

Sukuna's grip tightens on his phone as he hears you, the sound of your soft moans and the wet noises of you touching yourself over the phone. He can't help but imagine you, your fingers dipping into your wet heat, your body trembling as you think of him.

His breathing hitches, his hand working faster and faster over his cock. He can feel the release building, the need to cum threatening to drown him.

With a low growl, Sukuna bites down on his lip, his hips rocking in time with his hand. The room around him fades, the only thing that exists is the sound of your voice, your moans, the thought of you touching yourself for him.

Sukuna's cock is thick and veiny, pulsing in his hand as he strokes it. The head is a deep pink, desperate for release. His hand works faster, the pre-cum slicking his palm as he nears his climax.

The thought of you, the sounds of you touching yourself, has him groaning, his hips rocking with every stroke. His grip tightens, his muscles tensing as he feels the release building. He can't help but imagine it, your soft and wet cunt, the way you'd moan his name as he thrust into you.

"I want to spoil you, baby." He growls, his breathing heavy. "I want to shower you with gifts, to make you mine." He wanted to own, to claim, you for his own—it was an insane thought, one he could usually throw to the side, but with you, he found himself wanting. He wanted to look after you, treat you like the precious gem you are.

His work phone started to ring, but Sukuna didn't care. All his hand did was speed up on his cock and not stop or pull away from the sound of your voice and thinking about you touching yourself for him.

His grip tightened, his hips rocking along with his strokes. He could feel the release building, his need to cum threatening to drown him.

"I can't wait to see you, angel." He growls, his voice low and husky. "I want to taste you, to feel you under me as I claim you."

The thought of you, the sound of your moans, has him groaning, his hand working faster. He can't stop, can't pull away from the thought of you, from the sound of your voice. Sukuna bites down on his lip, his hips rocking as he nears his release. It's building, he can feel it, and the need to cum is going to consume him.

Sukuna's breathing catches at your words; his grip on the phone tightens as the sounds of your moaning and wet noises from touching yourself drive him closer to the edge.

He can do nothing but plead, his voice hoarse, desperate. "Need to hear your voice to cum, it's an addiction." His purr was low, very low—a feeling almost that one swore one felt deep in their chest, lulling one into a false sense of security. He was dangerous but with you, gentle, at least to the surface.

You can hear the need in his voice, the desperation, and you know that you're holding within your hands the power to send him over the edge. You release a soft moan as you continue touching yourself. Your voice causes Sukuna's skin to shiver with goosebumps.

"I want you to fill me up, to claim me as your own." Your voice is soft, seductive, the words causing him to groan. "Cum for me, let me hear you."

His grip tightens, his hips rocking faster as he nears his release. The sound of your voice, the thought of you touching yourself, pushes him over the edge. He can't hold back any longer, his cock pulsing in his hand as he reaches that sweet release.

"Shit, angel." He groans, his voice low and filled with desire. "Should've thought about my suit before doing this."

His cum spurts from the tip of his cock, coating his hand and trousers as he lets out a low, satisfied groan. It was an intense release, the best he's ever had with just his hand. Just thinking about you, the sound of your voice, he shuddered, breathing heavily as the aftershocks of his orgasm sent a shiver running down his spine.

The sound of your moans and the wet noises of you touching yourself continue to ring in Sukuna's ears as you cum. The sound of your pleasure, filled him with a need to hold you, to claim you.

You both cum, the release intense, the thought of each other pushing you to new heights. The sounds of your pleasure, the thought of you both finishing, had Sukuna breathing heavily, his hand still wrapped around his now softening cock.

The silence fills the line, both of you catching your breath, the sounds of your breathing heavy in each other's ears. "Gonna take you out to lunch as soon as this boring meeting's done, it's on me. Wear something pretty" he says as he tries to wipe up.

You breathe heavily, the afterglow of your orgasm still washing over you as Sukuna speaks, the thought of him buying you lunch making you smile.

"I'll wear something pretty for you, Sukuna." You reply, your voice soft and sultry. "I can't wait to see you." The thought of him, has you trembling, the aftershocks of your orgasm still sending shivers down your spine.

"Thank you for the call, baby, I needed that." Sukuna’s voice is filled with gratitude, making you feel cherished.

"Just make sure to behave for the next few hours, f'me, yeah?"

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated & it makes me smile <3

© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴

[slushycoookie]

What's That Smell? ~ Logan Howlett x Fem! Reader

✩ Word Count: 3.1k

✩ Content: Worst!Logan and Hairdresser! Reader. Wade acts like he's innocent in this, but he's not. Pheromone perfume. Logan doesn't go feral, but he gets there. P in V. Vaginal Fingering. Squirting. MINORS DNI!!

✩ A/N: I had to write about my man reacting to pheromone perfume. Enjoy!

Masterlist | Commissions

“Happy birthday!”

Wade hands you a pink gift bag stuffed with sparkly tissue paper. “It's not my birthday.”

“You're so silly.” He waves you away with a sensible chuckle. “It's someone's birthday somewhere. Anyway, I saw this and thought of you.”

You pull out a small bottle of perfume decorated in a crystal clear color. The design looked oddly familiar, but you couldn't pinpoint where you saw it. “Oh, thanks. I've been meaning to get some more perfume.”

“Well, the gods answered, and as your friend, I am known for reading my friend’s minds.”

You're pretty sure Logan brought it up to him one day, but you didn’t question it. You thanked him with a hug, and he mentioned something about doing a fashion show for Mary Puppins when he left your apartment.

It was nice of Wade to give you a gift. He's always been generous towards you since you were with Logan, but you didn’t expect something like this.

You even mentioned Wade's generosity to Logan later on, who gave a questionable raise of an eyebrow.

“Really? He bought you perfume?”

“Yeah.” You pull out the bag and show him the bottle. “Wasn't that sweet of him?”

Logan squints at the bottle, still not convinced. “I guess so.”

“You guess so.” You rolled your eyes. “Can’t you believe that he wanted to be nice? He doesn't seem like the type to play a cruel joke.”

“Cruel isn't the word I'd use.” He grumbles.

You place the pink gift bag back on your dresser, reminding yourself to use it the next time you go out.

That next time was for running errands. You had to restock the kitchen, enough to last you and your superhero boyfriend, who loves to eat and drink, for a couple of weeks. Plus, you needed to get more supplies for the salon. Logan would meet up with you at the store since he spent the night back at Wade's to prep for Mary Puppin's first day at doggy school. You could tell from the brief phone call last night that he was worn out.

You throw on an oversized t-shirt, leggings, and sneakers. Not the most attractive outfit. Before you left, your eyes landed on the gift bag. Harmlessly, you sprayed Wade's perfume behind your ears and the space between your bicep and forearm.

Running errands was serious for you. You weren't the biggest fan of spending hours at the store, wasting time grabbing groceries. Logan agreed with you on that front, as he didn’t want to waste time either.

Once you stepped foot inside the store, you were ready. With a list in hand, you were filled with total concentration. A few minutes later, there was a shift.

You received a lot more attention.

Many people coming up to you to tell you smell good. You just started in the produce aisle, and four people approached you. It surprised you the multitude of compliments you were getting despite having the appearance of a bum. Others were making conversation while you were trying to shop, asking you simple questions about good salad dressing brands. Or how many spices you have in your home. Trying to get closer to you.

One man didn't seem to get the hint that you were busy. He offered to help you with your groceries while you were in the cereal aisle. Logan's favorite brand of raisin bran was on a high shelf, causing said man to grab it for you. You were polite, but maybe you shouldn't have been, as he constantly hovered around you. Drawn to you for reasons you can't explain. Talking your ear off about whatever he could think of.

“You probably have your own shopping to do. I don't want to distract you.” You say, hoping politely declining him would make him take the hint.

“No, no, it's alright. I don't want to leave a defenseless person like you.”

You hold back at getting annoyed, “…it's a grocery store.”

“Still, I just think-”

“You got cotton in your fucking ears?” In a blink, Logan grabs the intruding guy by his shoulder, effortlessly pushing him away. “She didn't need any fucking help, bub.”

The guy scoffs, rolling his hips to make himself look more arduous, “And who are you?”

“Her boyfriend, who isn't afraid to make you a pathetic stain on the ground.”

You knew he meant it, but you also didn’t want to get banned as you really liked this store. The guy took the hint, leaving the cereal aisle like a defeated puppy.

“My hero.” You kiss Logan's cheek and see him sniff the air. He turns towards you, pupils almost blown. Before you can ask if he's alright, he grabs your wrist, smelling the space between your bicep and forearm. The action makes you laugh a little.

“What's that smell?” Logan takes a few more sniffs, and you feel blood rush to your cheeks. “It's sweet. Really fucking sweet.”

“O-Oh, I put on perfume today.” You didn't need to ask if he liked it as he was glued to your form, sniffing behind your ears, his breath fanning your neck.

“Is this new? I've never smelled this before.”

“Yeah, it's the one from Wade.”

Logan lets out a groan that sends straight to your core. Goosebumps coat your flesh, and you shudder when his hands creep under your shirt to feel your bare skin. His touch was hot, almost making your back arch. You had to remember you were in a grocery store. There were eyes on you two, and you had to regain some control, or else there'd be two new names on the sex offender list.

“Baby, we got things to do.”

You pull away from him, trying to ignore Logan's dejected face at the fact they had errands to run. He hardly said anything else after that. He delegated his role to being the silent shopper, pushing the cart and responding briefly whenever you talked to him. To anyone else, he gave off the appearance of a man not wanting to go grocery shopping. You knew it was something else when you noticed his knuckles turning white from gripping the cart. Everything in your body warned you not to get close to him until the errands were done.

An unsettled feeling arose inside your stomach when the two of you were outside, a cart filled with groceries. Logan mentioned he brought Althea's car, which is one of the few words he's said since then.

He told you to wait in the car while he put the groceries in the trunk. You wanted to help, but he pushed you to go inside, almost gritting his teeth. There, you sat on the passenger side while waiting for him to finish. Logan was taking his time and acting completely different from your usual outings. At one point, you saw him with his head towards the sky, taking heavy breaths, hands on his hips.

You had a feeling this was your fault somehow.

When Logan got inside, you ask, “You okay?”

“No.” He doesn't start the car yet. You could see the veins across his hands when he gripped the steering wheel. “You don't know how fucking good you smell right now. It's everywhere. My nose, my head, my thoughts. You don't know bad I'm trying not to rip your clothes off and fuck you in the backseat. ”

You didn't know what to say, but you liked it. Your thighs squeezed together at how a couple of spritzes of perfume were affecting him.

“Is it that bad? Do you wanna go home instead?”

Logan shakes his head, “You still have to go to the beauty store.”

“I can get those things another day-”

“No, sugar. I'm not ruining your plans because of a damn perfume.”

Butterflies tangle in your stomach. This man still had ways to make you shiver. You just needed to be a responsible adult for a bit longer.

The beauty store was five minutes away, but being in the car with Logan felt like an eternity. His large hand rested on your thigh, creating heat through his palm. Your thoughts wanted him to go higher, near your sex, to feel how horny you were getting. The car started getting warmer too, sweat forming on your brow. If Logan hadn't smelled you earlier, he would probably have smelled you now.

“I'll go in with ya.” He offers when pulling into a parking spot.

“No need! I'll probably be a bit anyway.”

You rush out of the car before he can say anything else. Practically running inside the store so you can get your mind straight. Your boyfriend's words were hovering in your mind, and you resisted the urge to turn back around and have him go by his word.

You needed to calm your mind. Hopefully shopping for more supplies would help and Logan staying in the car.

“Now, what kind of man would I be if I let my lady go in alone?” Logan's gruff tone sent chills across your spine and his arm around your waist to press against your back. No words escaped you as he sniffed behind your head. “Say something.”

“Logan…” You let out a shaky breath, trying not to falter at the proximity. He couldn’t resist copping a feel on your breast, which made you bite your lip. “There are cameras.”

He grunts, burying his face in your neck as you two stand awkwardly in the shampoo aisle. Thank goodness there was no one nearby to witness it.

“I'm behaving.”

“Barely.”

When you were usually out to restock, you were quick, decisive, a separate list on hand to make sure you had everything you needed for the salon. This time, you were slower and more distracted as Logan was glued to your hip. Giving you extra hugs after picking up an item you need on your list. A gentle kiss to your neck. His arm possessively around your waist. The man wasn't even a massive fan of pda either. Whatever this perfume was had him forgo his usual self.

When people were nearby, he didn't leave your side. His large pupils were on them as if they were a threat as if they were going to take you away from him.

If you had any more errands to run, that would have to wait another day. Once you two checked out from the store, your man was about to snap.

Logan was dead silent when he started the car, his knuckles almost turning white again. The apartment was only fifteen minutes away, and you weren't sure if he would be able to hold on that long. You only noticed deep, heavy breaths that overshadowed the radio you turned on to distract yourself. You weren't sure if you wanted to ask if he was okay again. You had a feeling he was going to go true to his word to fuck you in the backseat.

Once pulling up to your apartment, you were ready to get out, but his hand held yours to stop you.

“I'll get the bags.”

“There's a lot of them, I can help-”

“No.” He cuts you off, bringing your wrist up to his face and taking a long sniff. You squeezed your thighs together at the sight. A whimper almost escaped your lips. “Go wait in our room.”

You had nothing else to say after that.

You did as you were told, sitting on the edge of the bed while holding your hands. Your heart pounding in your chest as you heard Logan bring the bags inside. You weren't sure why you were nervous. You were doing what you were told.

Maybe he told you to wait because the scent was becoming unbearable. That he couldn’t focus, or your scent was dampening his enhanced abilities. Did you mess up? All you did was put on perfume. Or did Wade mess up? Did he accidentally bring you something that affected mutants? You should’ve thought twice before accepting a gift from him.

Slow and heavy footsteps made it's way into the room. You watched Logan close the door and lock it as if there was anyone around to disturb you.

“Take off your clothes.” He starts pulling off his own shirt.

You did so, albeit a bit slower than him. Your thighs clenched as you knew your cunt was wet from all of the waiting, the touches, and kisses from the stores, his filthy words. Logan's eyes scanned your naked body when he got closer. You tried not to focus on his hard cock, red around the tip, cum leaking from it. You wondered how long he was holding that in.

“You got some type of power I don't know about?” He doesn't give you a chance to answer when he presses against your naked body. Heat coming from his chest that was making you flustered. “You secretly a mutant, and you decided not to tell me?”

“No! No, I'm not a mutant. I swear all I did was just put on some perfume-”

Logan silences you with a kiss. Hands on your sides while groaning between your lips. You thought he was mad at you, yet he was sticking his tongue down your throat. His rough hands on your sides. You hold on to him for dear life when he parts, sniffing the air, and you feel yourself getting wetter.

“Motherfucking perfume should not make you smell this good, Jesus fucking Christ.” Logan swears while he's buried against your neck again, licking and sucking along your skin. You whine at how rough he's getting, as if he needs more of you. “I won't get mad if you tell me you are a mutant right now because fuck…”

Logan picks you up and tosses you on the bed. You barely have time to recover when he flips you over on your stomach. A hand presses on your back, keeping you firmly against the mattress. His lips kiss behind your earlobe before giving it a gentle nibble. That makes you shift underneath him, causing him to shush in your ear.

“Hold still.”

You do as you're told, whimpering at the touch of his lips against your nape. A light kiss, one that makes you want to put your head back, which is followed up by a nibble. Logan does the same while trailing down your back. You feel his hands palm the globes of your ass while he does so, creating tiny circles with his thumbs.

You moan into your pillow, and you know you're embarrassingly wet now. Your cunt is pulsing with the need to have him inside you already. His fingers dip inside you, and you gasp in surprise. Logan's able to pump his thick digits into your aching hole while leaning over you again, taking another whiff of your perfume.

“Lift your hips up for me, baby.”

You struggle to move your hips as he’s still two fingers inside you, but he helps you, a firm hand on your hip. When he does so, he moves down to your clit. The two fingers coated with your wetness parted your folds, rubbing that sensitive bud. It was getting harder to do as you were told. Keeping still as he played with your pussy. Taking in how delicious you smelled with the perfume.

“Logan.” You murmured against your pillow, “Please…”

“Please? My lady's begging for me?” Logan lets out a short laugh, not stopping his fingers. “You want me to fuck that pretty pussy of yours, huh?”

“Please…” You were on the brink of tears, that familiar feeling in your stomach about to tip over. Logan didn't show you any mercy, making you sob against your sheets. His fingers rubbed your sensitive clit until you couldn’t take it anymore.

You ached for him to be inside, cunt pulsing for him to slip his cock in. Once again, the tip of his nose brushed against your ear lobe as well as his cock in your sex. Your body quivered as his chest was on your back, hovering over you for complete control.

“Think you can give me another?”

You didn't have time to answer as he started pounding into you. Sticky, wet sounds in your ears as you were pinned. Not having a single thought every time Logan's hips met with yours, mouth wide open as you were being fucked dumb. A hint of your drool staining the sheets.

The headboard banging against the wall, mattress squeaking as Logan kept going. Grunting in your ear, saying that your scent was even better after your orgasm. That he wasn't going to come until you squeezed around his thick cock. And he meant it when he rubbed against your pulsing clit. You shook, moaning at his touch and how his cock pistoned into you.

Logan was angled perfectly to where he started hitting your G-spot, causing your vision to get blurry. Still not stopping on the assault on your clit.

“Lo…Logan…” Your body was getting hotter, another climax on the horizon.

“You almost there, princess?” Your answer was only a whine, and that was good enough for him. “That’s it, that's it. Do it for me, baby.”

This orgasm was different. As you came undone, wetness coated Logan's cock, some dripping down your thighs and his own.

“Oh fuck-” Without warning, he shot up inside you. Grunting in your ear while his seed filled your cunt, mixing with your own arousal and trailing down your thighs as well. Logan lazily pumped into you to make sure you got it all while groping your ass.

You could hardly move with Logan on top of you. Thank goodness he didn't rest his total weight on you, or you'd be crushed. He waited a few moments before pulling out, leaving you to lie on your side, completely docile.

No words were said when he cleaned you up, towel between your legs as he kissed your forehead. You started getting coherent enough to realize the groceries were still out, but Logan said he already put them away for you.

With a sigh of relief, you glanced over at the perfume before reaching for your phone to look up the label. That's when your eyes went wide at the reveal.

Wade gifted you pheromone perfume.

No wonder Logan was acting unhinged all day. With his heightened sense of smell, of course something like this would affect him. That is definitely the last time you take a gift from Wade.

As you showed Logan what the perfume was, his brows furrowed in slight annoyance, calling him an asshole.

“But,” Logan folded his arms, glancing away from you. “I wouldn't mind if you wear this more often…”

[d1stalker]

All of You, All of Me [Logan Howlett]

Summary: In a world of black and white, the only person who could bring colour to your life is the last one who'd want to.

Warnings: au where everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate, fem!reader, slow burn, angst, running away from feelings, pining, grovelinggg WC: 14.2k - MASTERLIST - A/N: help i'm sorry i didn't mean for it to get this long, but this fic is my baby

----

You've always cherished the idea of having a soulmate—someone who would love you unconditionally, waiting just for you as you them. The thought of finding that perfect match, the one who complements you in every way, is something you’ve always dreamed of. 

But as you get older, the hope you carry seems to dwindle more and more each year. Everyone around you has found their other half, reveling in the newfound ability to see colours in all their glory, and soaking up every moment of shared affection.

Everyone, except for you.

Your world remains a stark, colourless void, as if the universe is deliberately withholding the one thing you desire most.

And to make matters worse, despite not finding your soulmate, you are unequivocally, irrevocably in love with someone who has.

Logan Howlett.

You can’t remember a time where you didn’t feel anything toward him. His rugged, lone-wolf demeanor snuck its way deep into the crevices of your heart, and made itself a home there.

You and him formed an unlikely friendship, formed through the desire to fight back against all the people who’ve wronged mutants. Over the years, you had accepted the fact that while he wasn’t yours, at least you were alone together. Well, until she came.

Jean Grey.

She was strong, charming, and everything you felt you weren’t. It was no wonder her and Logan were meant to be together—the stoic, brooding mutant and his graceful, strong-willed counterpart. 

You remember the day it happened so vividly, it’s almost like you were the one who found their life partner. You and him had been walking around the mansion, when Charles had called you into his office to meet someone new. One look at their faces when they made eye contact and you knew you’d lost him.

It pained you to see them all over each other, all the time. Your once-regular walks in the garden became rare, then vanished entirely. On missions, he no longer looked out for you; his attention was consumed by protecting her. And as much as it hurt, you couldn’t deny they seemed perfect for each other—just as soulmates should be. You had no right to feel jealous.

Then, just as quickly as she had entered his life, she left it. 

The Pheonix was too strong, ripping her apart from the inside out. The pained scream he let out as not only his heart died, but as the world around him faded back into black and white, was forever ingrained into your memory. 

Logan was never the same after that.

 —

You trudge down the familiar halls of the mansion, your feet heavy with the weight of the day. It’s been long, filled with training sessions, team meetings, and a lot of paperwork. All you want to do is retreat to your room, lose yourself in a book, or maybe just sleep until the ache in your chest dulls.

As you walk, you hear faint commotion down the hallway—a low murmur of voices and the occasional clatter of something being moved. But you pay it no mind, too lost in your thoughts to care. Another mission, another discussion, another moment where you aren’t needed. It’s all so routine now.

Lost in your reverie, you don’t notice the figure walking toward you until it’s too late. You collide with a solid chest, the impact jolting you back to reality.

“Oh, sorry—” you begin, stepping back, but the words die on your lips as you look up.

It’s Logan.

Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, shock rippling through your body as you process his presence. And for a moment, neither of you speak. You just stand there, taking him in—the man who was once your closest friend, the man who was torn apart by grief and loss. His clothes are rumpled, his skin rougher than you remember, like he’s been through hell and back. 

You hadn’t seem him in a long time. After the devastation, he stopped talking to everyone. He holed himself up in his room for days at a time, only coming out in the dead of night to eat. Either that, or he was away on a mission–anything to stay distracted. 

But now, looking at him, there’s something different off. Something you can’t quite place your finger on. Did he always look like that? Maybe it’s the way the light above is reflecting off of him. Or maybe it’s—oh.

Looking around in surprise, you watch as the usually dark, stoic walls explode into a deep, rich shade. The carpet below you—no longer a mural of grey—radiates colors you can’t name. Your hands, his eyes, his hair-

You want to open your mouth and say something, anything, to the man who has caused your world to shift on its axis, but he’s already turned, walking away from you.

“Give me a fuckin’ break.”

----

Brown. Logan’s hair is brown.

After Logan leaves you paralyzed in the hallway, you run to your room, find the book on colors you had stashed in your bedside table, and throw open the cover. In it is a diagram that displays every known colour and their names. You learn that your favorite pair of pants are maroon, your bedsheets are navy green, and the X-Men suits are bright yellow and blue.

You stare at the page, each word blurring as your mind tries to process the impossible. Logan’s hair is brown. The thought keeps repeating in your head like a mantra, over and over again, until it becomes a steady thrum, drowning out everything else.

Brown.

You sit back on your bed, letting the book slip from your hands, the pages crumpling as it hits the floor.

Why him? Why me? Why now?

You begin to fidget, the adrenaline of the prior moment causing your heart to flail in your chest like crazy. You can’t stay here, you think to yourself. The idea of locked in your room with only your thoughts for company does not sound appealing. You need air, something to ground you, something to clear the haze clouding your head. Without thinking, you jump out of bed and find yourself heading up to the roof, the one place where you can breathe without feeling like the walls of the mansion closing in on you.

The trip up the stairs feels longer than ever before, each step heavy under the weight of your mind. It’s like every thought adds ten pounds. When you open the door, the cool night air hits you like a welcomed slap to the face, and you exhale deeply.

Walking to the edge, you lean against the railing. You’re in a daze - wondering if you made up the entire thing in your head. The only proof that you haven't, and that Logan being your soulmate is real, is the colours that coat the mansion’s grounds. The moonlight bathes everything in what you now know as a soft, silver glow, and for a moment, you just stand there, looking out into the distance.

It doesn’t make sense, and the more you try to wrap your head around it, the more tangled your thoughts become. You don’t want to face the possibility of what it could mean, but you can’t just brush it aside either. It has quite literally changed your entire life. 

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath in an attempt to quiet your racing mind. But when you open them again, you freeze.

Logan is standing at the other end of the roof, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the sky. He hasn’t noticed you yet, and for a split second, you consider turning back, retreating before he sees you. It would be a wise idea - he didn’t want to talk to you then, and he probably doesn’t want to talk to you now. But, it an act that can only be seen as your own body betraying you, you take a step forward. 

The sudden movement catches his attention, and his head snaps in your direction, his eyes locking onto yours. 

“Why are you here?” he asks accusingly.

You hesitate, unsure of how to answer. Seeing him out here was the last thing you had expected, and now that he’s in front of you, you are at a loss of words.

Logan’s eyes narrow, and he pushes off the wall, walking toward you. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I needed air,” you manage to say, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I just needed to clear my head.”

“Well, find somewhere else to do it,” he snaps, “I don’t want company.”

“Logan, I—”

“Don’t,” he interrupts, not even bothering to hear you out. “Don’t start. I know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t want to hear it.”

You blink, taken aback, and hurt at his coldness. “What are you talking about?”

He lets out a low, humourless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You think I don’t know what’s going on? God, I… this is all so fucking stupid.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you feel a flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks. “I wasn’t—”

“Enough!” he barks, his voice echoing in the night. “I’m not interested, alright? Whatever it is you think is happening between us, it’s not real. It’s just some stupid trick of the universe, and I’m not playing along.”

His words hit you like a physical blow - like you’ve just been shot at right in the heart - and you have to bite your lip to keep from crying out. “I don’t understand. I didn’t mean for any of this—”

“Yeah, well, neither did I,” he snaps at you, “And I’m not gonna sit here and pretend like there’s something here,” he gestures between you two, “when there isn’t. You’re not mine, and I’m sure as hell not yours.”

The finality in his tone leaves you breathless, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. You have nothing to say back, he’s not giving you any slack. The reality of his rejection sinks in with a brutal, crushing weight, you have to put in effort to not stumble over. 

After a long moment, you finally collect yourself. Then, “Okay,” you whisper. “I understand.”

Logan’s expression doesn’t soften; if anything, it grows colder, more distant.

“Good. Then stay away from me.”

You nod, eyes filling with tears. You quickly turn your face away, not wanting him to see just how much he’s hurt you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, barely audible. “I didn’t mean to make things worse for you.”

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t even acknowledge your apology. He just turns away, his back to you, effectively shutting you out.

You stand there for a long moment, watching him walk away for the second time that night. The colours that seemed so vibrant, so full of life just a moment ago, now feel like a cruel reminder of everything you could never have.

—

When you eventually return to your room, all you can do is lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling as your encounter with Logan on the roof replays in your mind on an endless loop, each harsh word he’d thrown at you cutting deeper than the last. It’s causes pain unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, pain that seems to have no end, no respite.

If he doesn’t want you in his life, you’ll accept that. You have to - it’s not like you have a choice. Soulmates are a two-way street.  

You can’t force him to feel something he doesn’t, can’t make him see you in a way he clearly never will. And you understand, don’t you? You can’t even imagine how difficult this would be for him. Losing your soulmate, and then the universe saying Fuck You and giving you another? 

You’ll never ever forget how wrecked he was when Jean died. How her death shattered him into pieces so small you weren’t–no–you’re still not sure he’ll ever be whole again. 

And you—where do you stand in the grand scheme of things? Just as the unfortunate recipient of a bond that neither of you asked for? Are you even allowed to be upset about this?

—

Waking up the next morning, you honestly wish you hadn’t. You knew you weren’t on good terms with Logan after his little rooftop showcase of emotions, but nothing could have prepared you for the way he starts to treat you.

His face is stuck in a perpetual scowl when you’re in his vicinity. He’s leaving every room the moment you enter, refusing to look at you, speak to you, or acknowledge your presence in any way. It’s as if you’ve become invisible, a ghost haunting the same halls you once shared with him. There’s only one thing you two seem to wordlessly agree on: don’t tell anyone. 

Each day following becomes a struggle, an unbearable test of your strength as you try to make it through without breaking. You begin to avoid Logan as much as he avoids you, but the mansion is only so big, and there are always moments when you catch sight of him in the distance, his broad shoulders hunched, his brooding face glaring daggers in your direction. 

It hurts you every time, an unending torture that leaves you stumbling. Still, you bite your tongue and keep moving, pretending you don’t care.

But you do care. You care more than you want to admit, more than you think is possible. Because despite everything—despite the rejection, the coldness, the anger—you still love him. 

And that’s the cruelest twist of all.

So you endure it, day after day, week after week, month after month. Letting it tear you apart piece by piece, because what else can you do? You carry this burden alone, just as you’ve carried your feelings for him all these years. And maybe one day, the pain will fade, the bond will weaken, and you’ll be able to move on.

—

The only person you tell is Charles.

“What’s on your mind, my child?” he asks one day, while you’re sweeping the dust in his office. 

You hesitate, your gaze dropping to your hands as you focus on cleaning. You know he’s just asking out of courtesy, and that he could easily crawl into your mind and figure it out himself. He probably wouldn’t even need to put in that much effort, given how loud your thoughts are. But still, you don’t yield to his probing.

“Nothing, really,” you mutter, forcing a small smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “Just… tired, I guess.”

Charles watches you carefully, his eyes full of the warmth and compassion he always has, but this time, it makes you feel uncomfortable. Like he can see right through the facade you’re trying so hard to maintain, which you have no doubt, he does. 

“I’m here to help, whatever the burden.”

You want to groan. It’s not like he’s doing it on purpose but damn does it feel like he’s trying to guilt you into confessing that you just recently had your heart shattered. 

“I know, Professor. But… it’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“You forget, I worry about all of you,” he replies gently. “It’s in my nature.”

The chuckle that crawls out your throat is nothing short of bitter. “It’s just… complicated.”

“Complicated doesn’t mean you have to face it alone.”

You bite your lip, trying to keep the emotions at bay. Do you really want to explain to him the insurmountable suffering you’re in, the rejection you faced from the one person who is supposed to be your soulmate? How can you tell him that the bond the universe forged is the very thing tearing you apart?

“It’s just… I don’t know how to make sense of it, Professor,” you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Everything’s so… wrong.”

He leans forward slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. “Wrong how?”

Knowing that you’re teetering into confession territory, you hesitate, needing time to collect your thoughts. 

“Logan… he… we… It’s not supposed to be like this, is it?” you eventually get out. Not your best work, but you know he’d get the gist. 

Understanding dawns in Charles’s eyes, and you can see the sympathy there, the quiet acceptance of the truth you’re struggling to voice. “The bond you share… it’s more than you expected, isn’t it?”

You nod, feeling the tears well up again. “But he doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want me.”

The professor sighs softly, and he looks at you like you’re a lost puppy. “Logan has been through so much, more than most could bear. His heart has been wounded in ways that are difficult to heal, and it’s not surprising that he would resist this new connection.”

“So why me?” you ask. “Why bind me to someone who will never love me?”

Leaning back in his chair, his fingers steepled thoughtfully, he says, “I wish I had an answer for you, my dear. The universe works in mysterious ways, ways that often defy our understanding. But I do know this: the bond you share is there for a reason. Whether it’s meant to bring you closer or to teach you something important… that remains to be seen.”

“It feels like a punishment,” you whisper, the tears finally spilling over. As much as you hate being put on the hot seat, you can admit that it feels good talking to someone about it.  “Every day, it hurts more. And he won’t even look at me. I don’t know how to make it stop.”

“The heartache you’re feeling is profound, but you must understand that it’s not your fault. Logan’s reaction isn’t a reflection of your worth, but of his own pain and fear.”

He reaches out, placing a comforting hand on your own before continuing.

“To love, even when it’s not returned, takes incredible courage. But you must also take care of yourself. Give Logan the space he needs, and in the meantime, allow yourself the grace to heal.”

So you do. In the days that follow your conversation with Charles, you make a promise to yourself—to try, really try, to focus on your own life, to reclaim the parts of yourself that have been overshadowed by the pain of this unrequited love.

The colours are still there, vivid and vibrant, and though they sometimes feel like a bittersweet reminder of what could never be, you find moments where they bring you joy. You marvel at the deep blue of the sky, the rich greens of the trees, the way the sunlight filters through the leaves and paints the world in golden hues. It’s like seeing the world anew, and in those moments, you allow yourself to feel happiness.

Moreover, you busy yourself, volunteering for every assignment that comes your way. The adrenaline, the focus, the purpose—they all help to drown out the pain, even if only temporarily. And when you return from each mission, tired but satisfied, you feel a little more like yourself again.

The mansion, too, becomes less of a prison and more of a home once more. You start spending more time with the others, rejoining them for meals, for training sessions, for movie nights. 

You laugh with Rogue, spar with Scott, and even find yourself engaging in playful banter with Remy. It’s not perfect, and there are still moments where you catch yourself faltering, when the weight of everything threatens to pull you under, but those moments are becoming fewer and farther between.

You’re healing, slowly but surely, and with each passing day, you feel a little stronger, a little more in control of your life—of your emotions. 

But then there are the times when you cross paths with Logan, and those moments are the hardest.

One evening, after returning from a particularly grueling mission, you find yourself heading toward the kitchen, your mind on the sandwich you plan to make. The place is quiet, most of the team out on various assignments, or finishing up on some work, and you relish the peace as you walk down the corridor.

However, just as you reach the kitchen door and push it open, you find Logan standing there, preparing to exit the room at the exact same moment. Your heart lurches, and you stop dead in your tracks, almost like a deer caught in headlights. 

His gaze meets yours, and all you can see is his impassive, stoic expression. He steps back, giving you space to enter, but the tension between you is palpable.

“Sorry,” you mumble, stepping to the side, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

Logan doesn’t say anything, barely nodding—if you could even it that— before brushing past you, his shoulder grazing yours. The brief contact sends a jolt through your system, and you have to force yourself to stay still and not physically react. 

Once he leaves, you let out a shaky breath, your heart still racing from the encounter. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close to him—so long since you’ve seen the deep brown of his hair that you love so much. You hate this. 

Why does he have no reaction to at all? Why is it only you who seems to care? 

Because you are the only one who does care.

You move into the kitchen, still intent on eating, but it’s a challenge. Your hands are trembling.

—

It all comes to a head one night during dinner. In this rare occasion, both you and Logan are in the same room. You’re supposed to be celebrating Rogue and Gambit’s anniversary, and even though you insisted that they share this special moment together alone, they didn’t take no for an answer. 

That’s how you find yourself, sitting at the grand dining table with all your friends, and Logan. 

He’s across from you. Just your luck.

He refuses to spare you a single glance, his eyes staying busy the whole night. And while it’s been months and months of this, you have never gotten used to it. Still, you can’t help but sneak a few looks at that chocolate-coloured hair. Brown. 

Everything seems to be going smoothly, the food is delicious and the dessert even better, but when Gambit presents Rogue with a giant painting, that’s when you slip up. 

“I love how you blended the red with the blue!” You compliment, loving the way he managed to create the perfect contrast between shades. You’re too caught up in staring at the artwork to realize the table as gone deathly quiet, all eyes on you.

Rogue's expression is one of gentle confusion, her head tilted slightly as she tries to make sense of your words. “Darling, I thought you couldn’t see colour?”

In any other situation, you’re sure the team would have laughed at how comically large your eyes got, and how all the blood draining from your face makes you look like a gaping fish, but in this moment, nothing is funny. You can feel Logan’s eyes on you, and when you finally muster the courage to glance at him, you see that his all-too familiar glare you’ve been subject to for the last half-year. It makes your heart thud painfully in your chest

“I…” you begin, but you falter. Your mind is going through a thousand thoughts per minute, searching for an excuse you can use to deflect, to pretend it was just a mistake, but the silence is too heavy, too demanding.

Rogue’s confusion deepens, her gaze flickering between you and Logan, who is now staring at you with an expression that’s impossible to read. She starts to say something, but Remy gently places a hand on her arm, shaking his head slightly as if to tell her to let you speak. 

Logan’s gaze stays locked on you for a moment longer. Then, without a word, he pushes his chair back, the legs scraping harshly against the floor. The sound echoes in the silence, and before you can react, he stands up and walks out of the room, his movements stiff, almost mechanical.

The door closes behind him with a quiet click, and the tension in the room thickens. You feel a rush of embarrassment flood through you, your heart sinking as the reality of what just happened crashes over you. 

You lower your head, your eyes stinging with tears that you fight desperately to hold back. But it’s no use. The emotions you’ve been trying to keep buried for so long bubble to the surface, and before you can stop yourself, the tears start to fall. 

“I think I need a moment,” you manage to whisper, your voice trembling as you stand up from the table. Without waiting for a response, you hastily excuse yourself and head for the door, not before mumbling a quick apology to the couple in which you were there for.

Soon you find yourself outside in the gardens, the nightly breeze hitting your face as you make your way to a secluded bench. You can’t even appreciate the beauty in what you see, because all you feel is the overwhelming sense of failure and sadness that threatens to swallow you whole.

Sitting down heavily on the bench, you bury your face in your hands and let go. The sobs come hard and fast, each one ripping through you with a force that leaves you breathless. You’re heartbroken and angry and absolutely over it, but at the same time you feel like a massive asshole because who are you to be upset with a man who’s mourning the loss of a soulmate? 

It’s not fair.

You don’t know how long you sit there, lost in your grief, but eventually, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching. You look up, wiping at your eyes, and see Scott walking toward you.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks gently.

You shake your head, unable to find your voice, and Scott sits down beside you on the bench. 

“I’m sorry,” you croak, “I didn’t mean to ruin the night.”

Scott clicks his tongue in disagreement, his gaze focused on the gardens ahead. “You didn’t ruin anything. It’s clear you’ve been carrying this burden for a long time. It’s no wonder it slipped out tonight.”

“So everyone knows now?” you ask. He nods.

“It wasn’t hard to put two and two together,” he concludes, and you groan, bringing your hands to your face.

“I just… I didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t want to be pitied.”

“Pity isn’t what anyone feels right now,” Scott says softly. “We’re worried about you. You’ve been hurting, and we didn’t see it. That’s on us.”

“It’s not your fault,” you bring your hands down from your face. “I’ve been trying to deal with it on my own. I thought I could handle it, but… clearly I was wrong”

With a serious expression, Scott turns to look at you. “I know what you’re going through, more than you might realize.”

You glance at him, surprised by his words. “You do?”

He nods, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I was in love with Jean, remember? When her and Logan found out they were soulmates… it tore me apart. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to move on, and for a long time, I couldn’t.”

The mention of Jean’s name brings a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you, but there’s also a strange comfort in knowing that Scott understands your pain. “How did you… how did you get through it?”

He sighs, “It wasn’t easy. It took a long time, and I had to accept it.”

You wipe at your eyes again, sniffling as you try to compose yourself. “I’ve been thinking about leaving for a while. Taking a longer mission, just to get away for a bit. Maybe then I can figure out how to move on.”

He is quiet for a moment, considering your words. “If that’s what you need to do, I understand,” he says, “sometimes, a change of scenery can help. Though I think you should try to talk to Logan again.”

Letting out a bitter laugh, you shake your head. “I don’t know if he’ll even listen to me. He’s made it pretty clear how he feels.”

“He’s hurting too,” He decides, “He’s not handling it well, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. You both need closure, and running away won’t give you that.”

“What if it just makes things worse?”

“It might.” Scott places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “But it might also give you both the chance to start healing. You deserve that chance.”

You nod slowly, letting the weight of his words sink in. “I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

“Take the time you need,” he says. “We’re all here for you.”

“Thanks, Scott. That means a lot.” You offer him a small, grateful smile.

With a final nod, he turns and walks back toward the mansion, leaving you once again alone in the quiet of the gardens. You take a deep breath, the idea of leaving still tugs at you, but now, there’s also the thought of confronting Logan—of finding some kind of closure, whatever that might mean.

You really don’t want to do it, and you’re pretty sure it’s just going to end the same way it did last time - with him shutting you out. But Scott’s words echo in your mind, reminding you that healing often requires confrontation, not avoidance.

Goddamn it.

You huff as you stand up from where you’re seated. You can’t keep running from this, can’t keep letting him run from this. You need to talk to Logan, to lay everything out on the table, even if it tears you apart in the process.

Your anxiety builds with each step as you approach his room, and you pause outside his door, your heart pounding so loudly you’re sure he could hear it if he was listening. This is it. There’s no turning back now. With a shaky breath, you finally raise your hand and knock. 

There’s a long, agonizing pause, making you strain to hear any movement on the other side. For a second, the silence causes you think he might not answer, that he might just ignore you like he’s done so many times before. But then, you hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching the door. Your heart catches in your throat as it slowly opens, revealing Logan standing there, his expression hard and unreadable.

The moment he realizes it’s you, his eyes darken, and he immediately moves to close the door, shutting you out yet again. However, you’re not letting him get away that easily. Before the door can fully close, you stick your foot out, blocking it with more force than you intended.

“C’mon, Logan,” you press. “You know we need to talk.”

He freezes, his grip on the door tightening until his knuckles turn white. His jaw clenches and unclenches, nostrils flaring. He still doesn’t look at you, his gaze fixed on some distant point as if he can will you away if he tries hard enough. But he doesn’t push the door shut either. The room is thick with suspense, both of you standing there in a silent standoff.

Finally, with a low growl of frustration, Logan steps back, opening the door just a smidge wider, barely enough for you to squeeze through. It’s a reluctant invitation, but it’s all you need.

“Fine,” he mutters, his voice rough, edged with irritation. “Talk.”

You step into the room, and he closes the door behind you, lingering close to it, as if he’s ready to bolt at any second. You feel vulnerable and exposed. It’s suddenly hard to gather your thoughts when he’s standing so close, when the heat of his presence and the distance he’s placed between is right in your face.

“Why did you come?” Logan questions. He still refuses to look directly at you, his gaze fixed somewhere over your shoulder.

“Because we can’t keep pretending this isn’t happening,” you reply, “We need to talk about what’s going on between us.”

His jaw tightens further, and his teeth grind with barely contained frustration. He finally looks at you, his eyes hard and defensive. “There’s nothing to say,” he says bitterly. “I told you how I feel. I thought that was enough.”

“It’s not enough!” you shoot back, your own frustration bubbling to the surface. “You think you can just push me away, pretend like this bond doesn’t exist, and that’s supposed to solve everything? It doesn’t work like that, Logan.”

He flinches slightly at your words, but his keeps his expression hard. “Well what do you want me to say?” he demands, his voice rising. “That I’m sorry? That I didn’t mean to hurt you? Because I am, and I didn’t. But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t be what you want me to be.”

His words hurt. 

“I know you told me how you feel,” you start, “but you’ve never let me tell you how I feel. You’ve never given me the chance to say that it’s been tearing me apart.”

A flash of guilt. “I didn’t think… I didn’t think you needed to say it. I already knew.”

“That isn’t fair,” you argue.

“You don’t understand,” he counters, “I lost Jean. I loved her, and when she died, it broke something in me. And now… now I’m supposed to just… move on? With you? It’s not that simple.”

“I never asked you to love me, Logan,” you say, your voice trembling with the intensity of your emotions. “I never pushed for anything more than friendship—it’s not like you gave me the chance! You’ve been shutting me out, ignoring me, making me feel like I’m nothing more than a burden, like I don’t even matter!”

You can see that the pain in your voice hitting him hard, but he doesn’t apologize. Instead, he looks away, his expression conflicted. “I’m trying to protect you,” he mutters, the words sounding hollow even to him

“Protect me?” you echo incredulously. “All you’re doing is make me feel like shit. Like I’m worthless. I can’t even be your friend, to help you through this.”

You pause. “You expect us all to know how you’re feeling, but you can’t even communicate it.”

Logan winces, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, filled with a torment you’ve never seen before. He opens his mouth to say something, but the words seem to get caught in his throat. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he breaks the silence, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I can’t be what you want me to be,” he admits, his tone filled with a deep, aching sadness. “I don’t know how to let you in. Without her, I feel like… I can’t let anyone in.”

Your eyes soften a fraction his confession, but there’s also a deep frustration that burns inside you, a frustration born of months of pain and rejection. 

“You haven’t even tried,” you say softly with a quiet resignation, “You haven’t even tried to let me in, to see what we could have been, even if it was just as friends.”

What follows is a long, nagging silence. You let it linger, giving Logan the chance he needs to think of something to say. But there’s no answer, no promise that things will change, and then you realize, with a sinking feeling, that he’s not going to take that step, too broken to try.

That’s when it really hits you. 

Whatever you were fighting for, was a losing battle from the start. 

You give up.

This time, it is you who turns your back on him. 

“Goodbye, Logan. Take care of yourself.”

You don’t wait for a response. You don’t glance back. You walk out of the room, the door closing softly behind you, and with it, the last remnants of hope you had for something more.

— 

You decide to go on the mission.

It’s nothing complicated. Your task is to survey different regions of Europe, ensuring that there are no burgeoning anti-mutant operations threatening the safety of anyone. The primary goal is gathering information, and quiet observation. No violence, Charles told you in the debrief. 

The lack of immediate danger doesn’t make leaving any easier, though. This is as much about finding yourself as it is about fulfilling your duty.

Rogue and Kitty are with you during your final preparations, helping you pack the essentials and offering support in their own ways. They don’t ask many questions, probably sensing that this decision was not just made on a whim. And for that, you’re grateful.

“I still think you’re crazy for going solo,” Rogue says with a half-smile as she zips up your bag. “But if anyone can handle it, it’s you.”

You manage a small smile in return. “Thanks, Rogue. I just need some time…”

Kitty, who’s been quietly folding clothes and tucking them into your bag, looks up, seriousness clouding her gaze.  “We get it. Just promise you’ll keep in touch, okay? And don’t hesitate to call if you need backup.”

“I promise,” you assure.

She hesitates for a moment before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small device—the X-Men communicator gadget. She holds it out to you, and you reach your hand out. 

“Here,” she says softly, pressing the device into your hand. “This is so you can update us on your whereabouts, your status, or any important mission details. Even if you don’t need anything, just… let us know you’re okay, alright?”

You look down at the communicator in your hand, and close your fingers around it, nodding as you meet Kitty’s gaze. 

“Alright, I’ll check in regularly. I won’t leave you guys in the dark.”

Rogue finishes the last bit of organization. “You’ve got this,” she says, “And we’ve got your back, even from a distance.” You nod, appreciating their support more than you can express. 

It almost feels like a walk of shame—leaving the mansion. Everyone knows why too, and that makes it a thousand times worse. But you won’t let it get to you. With one last look, you get in your car and begin on the windy path to the airport. 

—

When you arrive in Europe, the first thing that strikes you is the sheer beauty of the landscape. Each city, each town, has its own unique charm, its own story to tell. The bustling uphill streets of Porto, the serene canals of Venice, the ancient ruins of Athens—they all offer a distraction from the turmoil inside you.

The only good part about this whole mess is that you can see colour, and truly appreciate the sights before you.

You move from one place to the next, blending in with the crowds, quietly observing, gathering information, and sending brief updates to the team through the communicator Kitty gave you. Every message is short, to the point, just enough to let them know you’re safe and on track. You don’t share much beyond the essentials, not wanting to burden them with your personal struggles.

Then, in a small café in Rome, you meet a man named Marco. He’s a traveler like you, exploring Europe with a curiosity that matches your own. He’s warm, easygoing, and before long, the two of you strike up a conversation over coffee.

He is charming in a way that makes you feel at ease, his laughter infectious as he shares stories of his travels. You don’t tell him much about yourself, keeping the details of your mission and your mutant abilities hidden. To him, you’re just another traveler, searching for something—though he doesn’t pry into what that something is.

As the days pass, you and Marco continue to cross paths, and it’s nice to have someone to talk to, someone who doesn’t know about your past, about the things you’re running from. With him, you can be anyone, and for the first time in a long while, you start to feel a little lighter. You find yourself laughing more, the weight on your chest lifting a little each day. You don’t talk about the mission, and you certainly don’t talk about Logan.

One evening, as you’re both sitting on the steps of the Spanish Steps in Rome, watching the sunset, he turns to you with a grin. “So, where are you off to next?”

You hesitate, not wanting to reveal too much, but then you smile. “I’m heading to Florence. There are some places I need to check out.”

His eyes light up. “Florence? I’ve been meaning to re-visit. Mind if I tag along?”

A part of you wants to say no, to keep the distance you’ve carefully maintained, but another part—the part that’s been lonely for so long—nods in agreement. “Sure, why not?”

—

Back at the mansion, things haven’t been as positive. The once lively atmosphere has dimmed, replaced by an uneasy tension that lingers in the halls. The X-Men carry on with their duties, but there’s a noticeable shift—a missing piece that everyone feels but no one talks about. Logan, in particular, has become even more withdrawn, if that’s possible. The man who was once brooding and distant now seems even more so, his mood volatile and unpredictable.

His behavior has become a source of concern for the team. He’s always been rough around the edges, but now, it’s like the slightest thing can set him off. He snaps at everyone, his temper flaring at the smallest provocation. On missions, he’s reckless, throwing himself into danger without a second thought, as if he’s trying to outrun something—or someone. 

In many evenings, Logan finds himself in the mansion’s gym, trying to work off the restless energy that’s been plaguing him for months. The room is always empty, save for him, the steady rhythm of his fists pounding against the punching bag being the only sound. Sweat drips down his face, his muscles straining as he channels all his frustration and anger into each punch. Yet, no matter how hard he hits, he can’t seem to shake the thoughts of you that have been haunting him.

This night, door to the gym creaks open, and Logan doesn’t need to look up to know who it is. He can sense the other man’s presence, feel the weight of his gaze as he steps inside. He doesn’t slow his punches, doesn’t acknowledge Scott’s presence, but he knows why he’s here. They’ve had this conversation before—or something like it—but nothing’s changed. Nothing’s gotten better.

Scott watches him for a moment, his expression unreadable. He’s been watching Logan spiral for weeks now, but he’s kept his distance, knowing that he’d only be pushed away. But this can’t go on—Logan can’t keep doing this, can’t keep tearing himself apart over something he refuses to confront.

“She wouldn’t want this,” he finally says, voice cutting through the steady thud of Logan’s fists against the bag.

Logan’s movements falter for just a second before he resumes, his jaw tightening. “Who?” he growls, not bothering to turn around. “Her or Jean?”

Scott doesn’t flinch at the harshness in the other man’s tone. He steps closer, his eyes steady on their target as he answers, “Both.”

Finally, Logan stops. His fists still as he leans against the bag, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His shoulders are tense, the weight of Scott’s words pressing down on him like a physical burden. He doesn’t want to hear this, doesn’t want to be reminded of what he’s lost—of who he’s lost. 

Taking a step closer, Scott’s voice is firm. “Look, I’m not a spiritual person. But I also don’t think the universe messed up with this.”

Clenching, his fists, Logan knows what the other man is getting at, but he doesn’t want to acknowledge it. Doesn’t want to think about what could have been, what he’s been too scared to even consider.

“I know you know how I felt about Jean,” Scott says quietly, knowing he’s breaching a sensitive subject. “Losing her… it killed me too. And if I had been given a chance—a real chance to be with her, to make things right—I would have taken it. No hesitation.”

Logan’s breath hitches at that. The truth is, he’s been running—running from you, from the bond you share, from the possibility of something real. 

“I’m not saying you should chase after her,” he continues. “But I am saying that you need to stop running from her. The universe doesn’t just throw things like this at us for no reason. And you know that.”

The weight of Scott’s words settle over Logan like a shroud. He knows the other man is right—deep down, he’s always known. But that doesn’t make it any easier. The fear, the guilt, the pain of losing Jean—it’s all still there, gnawing at him, holding him back. 

There’s something else too, something he’s been trying to ignore but can’t any longer: the way he feels about you, the way he’s always felt, even if he couldn’t admit it to himself. One of the first thought’s that ran through his head when his world re-erupted into colour was that, had this happened before Jean, maybe it could have worked. Maybe he could have been what you wanted, felt something real.

Scott takes a step back, giving Logan the space he needs. “Just think about it,” he says softly. “Think about what you really want. And don’t wait until it’s too late to figure it out.”

Logan doesn’t respond, but Scott doesn’t need him to. He’s said what he needed to say, and now it’s up to him to decide what comes next. With a final look, Scott turns and leaves the gym, the door closing softly behind him.

The clawed mutant stands there for a long time, his fists still clenched, his mind racing. He knows he can’t keep doing this—can’t keep tearing himself apart over something he can’t change, something he’s too afraid to confront.

But change is terrifying, especially when it means facing the truth. The truth that maybe, just maybe, the bond he shares with you is something worth fighting for. Something that Jean wouldn’t want him to throw away.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Logan finally lets his fists unclench, the tension in his body slowly ebbing away. He doesn’t have all the answers—hell, he barely knows where to start—but he knows one thing for sure: he's can’t run away anymore. Not from this, not from you.

—

You’ve now spent days in Florence, wandering through the Uffizi Gallery, marveling at the works of the Renaissance masters, and evenings enjoying the quiet serenity of the Arno River. With you, Marco. You’ve grown to trust him. He’s never made you uncomfortable, never had any intentions to take advantage of you, and knows all the best restaurants. 

But there’s always been a small, nagging doubt that you’ve pushed aside—a feeling that something isn’t quite right. You’ve ignored it, convincing yourself that you’re just being paranoid after everything you’ve been through. After all, he has been nothing but kind, always knowing the right thing to say, always showing up just when you need someone.

It isn’t until the two of you are exploring a quieter part of Florence, that the doubt flares into something more. You’re walking through an old, narrow alleyway, the kind that tourists rarely venture into, when Marco suggests you take a shortcut through a small, unmarked door in the side of a building.

“I found this place the last time I was here,” Marco says, his smile as easy as ever. “It’s a hidden gem, leads right to a beautiful courtyard. You’ll love it.”

You hesitate, something in his tone—or maybe it’s the way his eyes gleam just a little too brightly—sets off alarm bells in your mind. You’ve come to trust him though, haven’t you? You’ve traveled together for weeks, shared countless stories and laughs. Surely, he wouldn’t lead you into danger.

Still, as you step through the door, the darkened space beyond immediately feels wrong. The air is colder, damp, and the walls are lined with strange, unidentifiable equipment. You glance back at Marco, and that’s when you see it—the change in his expression. The warmth is gone, replaced by something cold and calculating.

Before you can react, you feel a sharp prick in your arm. Your vision blurs, and your body goes numb almost instantly. You stumble back, trying to push away, but your legs give out, and you collapse to the floor.

Marco looms over you, the smile gone from his face, replaced by a look of triumph. “Did you really think I didn’t know?” he sneers, his voice dripping with disdain. “You’re a mutant, and you thought you could hide it from me?”

The world around you spins as the drug takes full effect, but you force your mind to stay focused. “What… why?” you manage to whisper, the betrayal cutting deep.

“Why?” He laughs, the sound harsh and devoid of any warmth. “Because mutants like you are worth a fortune. My clients pay top dollar for… research subjects. And you, my dear, are about to make me very, very rich.”

You try to move, to fight back, but your body refuses to respond. Panic rises in your chest as he kneels beside you, pulling out a small device that looks like a portable scanner. He runs it over you, and it emits a low hum as it registers your vital signs, confirming what he already knows. You’re weak. 

“You won’t get away with this,” you say.

“Oh, but I already have,” he replies with cruel satisfaction. “No one knows where you are. And even if they did, it’ll be too late by the time they find you.”

With the last bit of strength you can muster, you reach into your pocket, fingers trembling as you fumble with the X-Men communicator that Kitty gave you. His attention is momentarily distracted as he prepares a syringe filled with a clear liquid, and you seize the opportunity. You manage to pull out the communicator, your fingers barely able to grip it. Then, with a deep breath, you press the SOS button, the screen flashing to life.

You type in the message as quickly as you can, your vision blurring even more as the drug takes hold. 

Location: Florence. 

Message: Help.

Just as you hit send, Marco notices what you’re doing. His eyes widen in anger, and he grabs your wrist, yanking the communicator out of your hand. “You little—!” he snarls, but it’s too late. The message has already been sent.

His face contorts in rage as he slams the gadget against the ground, smashing it to pieces. He glares down at you, his hand tightening painfully around your wrist. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? But it doesn’t matter. They’ll never get here in time.”

Your strength is nearly gone, the drug pulling you into unconsciousness, but you manage one last defiant look. “You won’t win,” you whisper with the last of your energy.

Marco releases your wrist with a sneer, standing up and looking down at you with contempt again. “We’ll see about that,” he mutters before turning away, leaving you on the cold, hard floor as darkness overtakes you. 

You can only hope they—that Logan—will reach you in time.

—

The signal comes through during a meeting. A sudden, loud beep cuts through the room,  and everyone freezes, their attention immediately drawn to the source of the sound. To Kitty’s pocket. It’s the X-Men communicator, the one linked to your device. 

Logan’s head snaps up, his eyes narrowing as he recognizes the tone. He’s on his feet before anyone else can react, his heart pounding in his chest. “What the hell was that?” he demands, his voice tense with urgency.

Kitty quickly pulls it out of her pocket, her eyes widening as she reads the message that’s flashed across the screen. Her face pales, and she looks up at the others, her voice trembling as she speaks. “It’s from her… Florence… Help.”

There’s a brief pause, maybe a second long in length, and then the room erupts into a flurry of movement. 

Chairs scrape against the floor as the team rises to their feet, already preparing for action. But Logan is the first to react, his face a mask of fury and determination. “I’m going,” he growls, already heading for the door.

“Logan, wait!” Scott steps forward, blocking Logan’s path with a firm hand on his chest. 

“Get out of my way, Summers,” He snarls, his voice filled with barely controlled rage. “I’m not waiting around while she’s in danger.”

“We can’t just rush in without a plan,” Scott insists, trying to keep his own emotions in check. “We need to know what we’re dealing with.”

Logan shoves the other mutant’s hand away, his eyes blazing with anger. “She sent an SOS, Scott! She needs help, and we’re wasting time standing here talking about it!”

The rest of the team watches the confrontation with anxious eyes, knowing that things could easily escalate. Logan’s been on edge for weeks, and the urgency of the situation—of you— has pushed him to the brink. 

“Logan,” Ororo interjects, “We understand how you feel, but we need to think this through. If this is a trap—”

“I don’t give a damn if it’s a trap!” He snaps, his voice rising. “She’s part of our team! We can’t just leave her there!”

“That’s not what we’re saying,” Scott tries to reason, but Logan isn’t having it.

“Then what the hell are you sayin’?” He demands, his frustration boiling over. “Why are we wasting time when we should be getting her out of there?”

There’s a brief, uncomfortable silence, and then it’s Rogue who steps forward, conflicted. “Logan… what if… what if she doesn’t want to see you?”

He freezes, the words hitting him harder than any physical blow could. He stares at Rogue, disbelief and anger warring in his eyes. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he growls.

Rogue swallows, her eyes filled with worry. “She left because she needed time, Logan. Because things between you two… they weren’t good. Maybe she—maybe she doesn’t want you to be the one to save her.”

Clenching his hands into fists, his body is taut with tension. “Fuck that!” he roars with a fierce, protective rage. “She’s part of our team! She sent that message to us, to the X-Men, because she needs our help. I don’t care what’s happened between us, I’m not leavin’ her there!”

The room falls silent, the weight of Logan’s words settling over everyone. They know Logan is right—she’s part of the team, and they can’t leave her behind. But they also know that the situation is more complicated than that.

Scott takes a deep breath, his gaze steady as he looks at Logan. “We’re not saying we shouldn’t go after her, Logan. We’re saying that you need to be prepared for whatever we might find when we get there. She might be in a bad place, and she might not be ready to face you.”

“I don’t care,” he says after a brief pause, his voice quieter now, but no less determined. “I’m going to get her out of there. Whether she wants to see me or not, I’m not lettin’ her go through this alone.”

Scott studies Logan for a long moment, then finally nods. “Alright. But we do this together, as a team.”

Logan nods, his jaw set in a grim line. “Fine. Let’s go.”

—

Your eyes snap open, the dim light of the room piercing your vision. You’re in a large, abandoned warehouse. Your head feels heavy, like it’s filled with cotton, and there’s a dull, throbbing pain at the base of your skull. As you try to move, you realize with a jolt of fear that you’re restrained, your arms and legs strapped tightly to a chair. Panic flares in your chest, and you struggle against the bonds, but they don’t budge.

And then you see him—Marco, standing a few feet away, watching you with a smirk that sends a chill down your spine. His eyes gleam with satisfaction, and you realize with horror that you’ve been caught, trapped in whatever twisted game he’s been playing.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he says, voice dripping with mock concern. “I was starting to wonder if I’d given you too much of the sedative. But it seems you’re tougher than I thought.”

You try to respond, but a gag in your mouth muffles your words, turning them into incoherent sounds. You glare at him your eyes burning with fury.

He only chuckles, clearly amused by your resistance. “Oh, don’t bother trying to speak. We wouldn’t want you calling for help, now would we? Though, I must say, I’m impressed you managed to send that little SOS before I caught on. Clever, but ultimately futile.”

He steps closer, his eyes narrowing as he looks you over, his expression turning cold. “You know, I’ve dealt with a lot of mutants in my time, but there’s something special about you. Something… unique.” He reaches out and grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Too bad your powers won’t do you any good here. The drug I gave you should keep you nice and powerless for the foreseeable future.”

Straining against the bonds, you continue to try to break free, but he drug in your system dulls your abilities, leaving you feeling weak and vulnerable. All you can do is stare at him with hatred as he continues to taunt you.

“Such fire in your eyes,” Marco murmurs, almost to himself. “It’s a shame you’ll never see the light of day again. But don’t worry—I’ll make sure your abilities are put to good use.”

He lets go of your chin, his hand trailing down to your shoulder in a way that makes your skin crawl. “Now, let’s see what we can do to make you a little more… compliant.”

Just as he reaches into his coat pocket, presumably for another syringe, a sudden, loud crash echoes through the warehouse. The sound of splintering wood and shattering glass fills the air, followed by the unmistakable hum of energy blasts and the heavy thud of boots on the concrete floor.

The X-Men have arrived.

Marco’s eyes widen in surprise and then narrow in anger. He spins around, barking orders at the security guards scattered throughout the warehouse. “Stop them! Don’t let them get near her!”

The guards rush forward, weapons drawn, but they’re no match for your friends. The familiar sounds of battle flood your ears—Rogue’s powerful punches, Scott’s optic blasts, and Storm’s lightning crackling through the air. You struggle against your restraints again, desperate to free yourself, but it’s no use. 

Then, you catch a glimpse of Logan. He’s fighting his way toward you, his claws out, slicing through anyone who gets in his way. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, your eyes meet his, and you can see the raw determination in his gaze. He’s coming for you.

But just as he takes a step forward, something changes. He hesitates. You can’t hear what he’s thinking, but you can see the conflict on his face—the way he seems to second-guess himself, the way his steps falter. Your heart sinks as you realize he’s unsure, almost as if he's torn between wanting to save you and fearing that you don’t want him to.

In that split second of hesitation, Rogue swoops in, landing beside you with a determined look on her face. She doesn’t waste any time, using her strength to tear through the restraints that bind you. “We’ve got you, sugah,” she says, her voice steady and reassuring as she pulls the gag from your mouth. “You’re safe now.”

You nod, your throat too dry and your body too weak to speak. Your muscles scream in protest as you try to stand, but she quickly wraps an arm around you, helping you to your feet. You’re shaky, your body still reeling from the effects of the drug, but you’re free. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Logan still standing there, his eyes locked on you, his expression unreadable. He wanted to save you. He wanted to be the one to pull you out of that nightmare, but something held him back.

Rogue helps you toward the exit as the rest of the team continues to subdue the guards and Marco. You lean heavily on her, your legs barely able to support your weight, but you force yourself to keep moving. 

And when everyone else has back in the jet, hugging you and comforting you, you look over to Logan, who sits far away, on the opposite side, refusing to meet your gaze. 

—

Returning to the mansion feels like stepping back into a familiar, comforting embrace. You missed the soft, warm bed in your room, the quiet serenity of the gardens, and the comforting presence of your friends. It's been a few days since the whole ordeal in Florence, and the drug has finally worked its way out of your system. Your strength has returned, and physically, you feel like yourself again. The mansion, too, seems unchanged—still the safe haven you’ve always known.

But as the days pass, you begin to notice that while many things have returned to normal, some things have not. You’ve seen most of your friends, their faces lighting up when they see you, their hugs tight and full of relief. There have been quiet conversations and laughter, shared meals in the kitchen, and moments that remind you why this place is home.

Except, there’s one person you haven’t seen. Logan.

His absence is like a shadow that follows you wherever you go. You’ve felt his presence in the mansion—heard his voice in the halls, the sound of his footsteps on the floorboards—but he’s kept his distance. He hasn’t sought you out, hasn’t tried to talk to you, and that stings more than you want to admit.

You’ve tried to stay strong, to remind yourself of the resilience you found during your time away. You’ve reminded yourself over and over that you don’t need anyone else to validate your worth, that you can stand on your own. Yet the longer Logan avoids you, the harder it is to hold on to that strength. The old wounds, the ones you thought had begun to heal, start to ache again, and you can’t help but wonder if anything has really changed at all.

More often than not, you find yourself retreating to the front lawn. The sun is warm on your skin as you lie down in the grass, a book in hand. The soft rustling of leaves in the breeze and the distant hum of life inside the mansion create a peaceful background, and for a moment, you manage to lose yourself in the pages of your book.

Still, even here, in the sanctuary of the garden, the thoughts you’ve been trying to push aside keep creeping back in. The memory of Florence, of Logan’s hesitation, lingers like a bitter aftertaste. You replay the moment over and over in your mind, trying to make sense of it, trying to understand why he stopped, why he didn’t come for you.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t notice the shadow that falls across your page until a deep, familiar voice breaks the silence.

“I’m glad you’re alright.”

The voice startles you, and you jerk slightly, looking up to see Logan standing above you. His expression is guarded, as if he’s not sure how you’ll react to his presence. There’s a tautness to his posture, a stiffness that you recognize all too well. 

For a moment, you just stare at him, caught off guard by the suddenness of his appearance. He’s as rugged and intimidating as ever, but there’s something different in his eyes—something a tad bit softer. You close your book, sitting up slowly as you meet his gaze. The question that’s been gnawing at you since Florence rises to the surface, and you know you can’t keep it inside any longer.

“What happened?” you ask, your voice steady but filled with quiet intensity. “In Florence?”

His jaw tightens, and he looks away for a moment, his gaze shifting to the trees in the distance. He doesn’t answer immediately, and the silence stretches out between you, thick with unspoken words. 

You just watch him, waiting for an explanation, but there’s a part of you that’s already bracing for disappointment. You’ve been here before, waiting for Logan to decide what happens next, to take the lead. And you’re tired of it. You’re tired of being the one left in the dark, of being the one who has to wait for him to be ready.

Finally, he lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as if the weight of the world is pressing down on him. “I… I hesitated,” he admits huskily, almost in a growl. “I wanted to save you. Hell, I was going to. But then… I didn’t know if you wanted me to.”

His confession hangs in the air, and you feel a mix of emotions—surprise, confusion, and sadness. You hadn’t expected this, hadn’t realized that his hesitation was rooted in something so painfully human.

“Why wouldn’t I want you to?” you ask softly, searching his face for answers.

Logan finally looks at you, really looks at you, and the raw emotion in his eyes takes your breath away. “Because of everything that’s happened between us. Because I pushed you away. I hurt you, and I thought… maybe you’d be better off if it wasn’t me.”

You shake your head, trying to make sense of his reasoning. “Logan, this can’t keep being about what you think is best,” you begin. “And it’s not about who saves who. It’s about being there when it counts. You were there. You came for me.”

He doesn’t have a response to that, at least not right away. He looks down at the ground, his fists unclenching, his shoulders slumping even further. It’s like he’s carrying the weight of everything he’s done, everything he’s failed to do, and it’s crushing him. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally manages to get out. “For everything.”

You stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I know I’ve messed up,” he continues. “I know I haven’t been there for you like I should’ve. But I’m here now. And if you’ll let me… I want to try to make things right.”

You know you should be happy—this is everything you’ve wanted to hear from him for so long. But it’s also too much, too late. The doubt, the pain, it can’t just disappear with a snap of your fingers.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” you admit. 

There’s pain on his face. “I get it,” he says, his voice rough but steady. “I know I’ve got a lot to make up for. And I know it’s not going to happen overnight. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes, if it means I can earn your trust back.”

“I need time. I need time to figure out where I stand, and where you stand with me.”

He nods slowly, his gaze dropping to the ground again. “Take all the time you need,” he says quietly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I appreciate that,” With a small nod, you stand up, brushing the grass off your clothes. “I need time,” you repeat, more for your own benefit than his.

“And you’ve got it,” Logan replies. “As much as you need.”

—

Days turn into weeks, and weeks into months. You focus on yourself, on healing the wounds that were reopened during your conversation with Logan. It feels strange, being the one who needs space, but you know it’s necessary. You find things to take your mind off him: you train more, read more, spend more time with Rogue, Kitty, or Remy. It’s nice.

But Logan… Logan doesn’t give up. He knows you need time, and he respects that. He doesn’t push, doesn’t pressure you to make a decision, but he makes it clear through his actions that he hasn’t forgotten about you, and more importantly, that he isn’t going anywhere.

It starts with the small things—things so subtle that you almost don’t notice at first. You probably wouldn’t have suspected anything if you hadn’t known the kind of person he is. He’s nothing if not persistent. He knows you better than you realize—the rift he created after Jean’s death muddling with your memory—and he uses that knowledge to quietly, almost imperceptibly, work his way back into your life.

In the mornings, you wake up to find your favorite snacks waiting for you in the kitchen, carefully placed where you’d be sure to see them. He never mentions it, never takes credit, but you know it’s him. It’s in the way he glances at you from the corner of his eye as you take a bite, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He never makes a big deal out of it—just a quiet, unspoken gesture that says, I’m thinking of you.

Then there are the late-night training sessions. You go down to the Danger Room or the gym, hoping to clear your mind with a bit of solitary exercise, only to find Logan already there. At first, you’re tempted to leave, to find somewhere else to work out, but something in his demeanor stops you. He doesn’t approach you, doesn’t speak unless you initiate it. Instead, he just… exists beside you, his presence steady and reassuring, like a rock in the storm.

It’s in these moments that you begin to see a different side of Logan—one that’s patient, understanding, and perhaps a little unsure of himself. He follows your lead, mirroring your exercises or silently spotting you during weightlifting, always attentive to your needs without ever making you feel pressured or overwhelmed. He’s just there, offering his support in the quietest, most understated way possible.

And then there are the little surprises in your room—small, thoughtful gestures that you can’t help but notice. A favorite book you’d mentioned in passing suddenly appears on your nightstand, its pages pristine and waiting for you to dive into. The time-worn leather straps on your gear are suddenly replaced with new ones that fit perfectly, the stitching unmistakably done by Logan’s hand. Even your plants, the ones you’d worried would wither away while you were on a mission, seem to thrive in your absence, the soil freshly watered and the leaves turned toward the sun.

He never asks for thanks, never draws attention to what he’s doing. It’s all done quietly, behind the scenes, as if he’s afraid that if you notice too much, you might push him away. But you do notice. How could you not?

At first, you try to ignore it, telling yourself that these gestures don’t change anything, that they’re just a way for Logan to assuage his guilt. You tell yourself that he’s just doing this because he feels bad, because he wants to make up for the past, not because he actually cares. You’ve built walls around your heart for a reason, and you’re not ready to let them down just because he’s being nice.

But over time, those small gestures begin to chip away at those walls, brick by brick. You start to realize that Logan isn’t just going through the motions—he’s really paying attention, noticing the little things that make you who you are. It isn’t just about the snacks or the books or the plants—it’s about the way he remembers the details of your life, the things that matter to you, the things that make you feel seen and understood.

After a particularly long and stressful day, you return to your room exhausted, and all you want is to collapse into bed and forget the world for a while. But when you walk in, you find a small bouquet of wildflowers sitting on your nightstand, the beautiful colors a stark contrast to the dark thoughts that have been swirling in your mind all day. There’s no note, no explanation—there never is—but you know who left them.

You just stand there, staring at the flowers, your heart squeezing in your chest. It’s such a simple gesture, and yet it means so much. You’d forgotten that Logan knew how much you love wildflowers—you’d mentioned it once, years ago. The way they’re resilient, thriving even in the harshest conditions, blooming where others wouldn’t. It’s as if he’s telling you that he sees that strength in you, that he admires it.

And it’s then, in the quiet of your room, surrounded by the small, thoughtful gestures that Logan has left behind, that you realize something. This isn’t just about making up for the past. Logan is showing you, in the only way he knows how, that he wants this. Wants you.

He's finally picked up the pieces of him that fell apart after Jean’s death, and he is willing to pick up the pieces of you that fell apart after his rejection.

So, one evening, months after that fateful conversation on the lawn, you find yourself standing in the common room, staring at the fireplace, lost in thought. The mansion is quiet, the rest of the team either out on a mission or asleep. It’s just you and the flickering flames, the soft crackling of the fire the only sound in the room.

But when you hear footsteps behind you, heavy and deliberate, you know instantly who it is. Without turning, you can sense his presence, the way he moves with that quiet confidence, the way the air seems to shift when he is near. Logan has always had a way of grounding you, even when you don’t want him to.

He walks up beside you, stopping just short of touching you, his warmth radiating in the small space between your bodies. He doesn’t say anything at first, doesn’t ask why you’re here or try to force a conversation. He just stands there, his hands shoved into his pockets, waiting patiently, giving you the time you need. It’s something you’ve come to appreciate about him in recent months—his newfound ability to just be, without pushing or demanding more than you’re ready to give.

"I’ve been thinking," you say finally, your voice soft, as you continue to gaze into the flames.

"Yeah?" Logan asks, his tone careful, as if he’s afraid of saying the wrong thing.

You turn to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "You’ve been… different. Doing all these little things… I see them, you know."

Logan’s eyes meet yours, and for the first time in a long time, you see hope there. "I just wanted you to know that I care. That I’m sorry," he says, with so much emotion. “You were never a burden to me.”

You swallow hard. "It’s hard for me, Logan," you admit, "I’ve been hurt before, and I’m scared. Scared that if I let myself love you again, you’ll just… break me."

He steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. "I’d never hurt you again," he says, "I’d rather cut off my own damn hand than hurt you. The past is the past, and you are my future."

That’s enough to make your walls crumble completely. You know, deep down, that Logan is telling the truth. That he’s willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust again.

And in that moment, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re ready to let him.

You don’t say anything. Instead, you let your actions speak for you. You close the distance between you, standing on your toes as you press your lips to his in a gentle, tentative kiss. Logan freezes for a split second, as if he can’t believe this is really happening, but then he kisses you back, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close, holding you as if he never wants to let go.

The kiss is slow, tender, full of everything that has been building between you for so long. It isn’t just a kiss—it’s a promise, a commitment to try again, to rebuild what has been broken. When you finally pull back, your breath mingling with his, you rest your head on his shoulder. "I’m still scared," you whisper.

"I know," Logan replies, his arms tightening around you. "But I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll take this slow, darlin’. Whatever you need."

You nod. "Okay."

Logan smiles then, a real, genuine smile that makes your heart flutter in a way it hasn’t in years. It’s a smile full of relief, of gratitude, of love—a smile that tells you that he understands just how much this moment means, just how much you’re giving him by letting him back into your heart.

—

The time that follows is a slow, steady journey of rebuilding trust. Logan is true to his word—he is patient, understanding, and surprisingly tender in ways you hadn’t expected. The small gestures continue—coffee waiting for you in the morning, a gentle hand on your back during missions, quiet moments of companionship where no words are needed.

You can feel the doubts you’ve been holding onto slowly begin to fade. Each time Logan shows up for you, each time he puts your needs above his own, it chips away at the fear that has kept you guarded for so long. It’s in the way he listens when you talk, truly listens, as if every word you say matters. It’s in the way he looks at you—not with the same fury he once had, but with a steady, enduring affection that speaks of something deeper.

With Jean, he loved her because she was his soulmate, she was who the universe destined him to be with. He loved her because that’s what he thought he had to do.

With you, he has a choice. He doesn’t need to acknowledge the bond, but he chooses to. He chooses to everyday and he’ll never stop. He loves you because he wants to, not because he has to.

One evening, you find yourself sitting on the mansion’s porch watching the sunset. Logan joins you without a word, sitting close enough that your shoulders brush. 

“You’ve been quiet today,” he says softly, breaking the comfortable silence.

“I’ve just been thinking,” you reply, leaning your head on his shoulder. It’s a simple gesture, but one that speaks volumes about how far you’ve come in trusting him again.

“’Bout what?” he asks, his voice gentle.

“About us,” you say, your voice steady. “About how things have changed. How… how good they’ve been.”

Logan’s hand finds yours, his fingers lacing through yours in a way that feels so natural, so right. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you echo, squeezing his hand. “I’m not scared anymore, Logan. Not like I was.”

He turns to face you, his eyes searching yours. “You sure?”

You nod, smiling softly. “I’m sure. You’ve shown me that this bond means something to you, that you’re not going to hurt me. And… I want this. I want us.”

Logan’s face lights up with so much love, that it takes your breath away. He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “I’m glad, darlin’. Because I want us too. More than anything.”

—

It isn’t long before the rest of the X-Men begin to notice the change in Logan as well. At first, it’s subtle—small things like the way he looks at you during briefings, or the way he seems to be more patient, more relaxed when you’re around. But over time, it becomes impossible to ignore.

During a training session in the Danger Room, you’re paired with Logan for a simulated mission. The others watch as Logan moves with you in perfect sync, his focus not just on the mission but on you—making sure you’re safe, supporting you when needed, and trusting you completely. It’s a far cry from the Logan they had seen when he was in mourning, where his moves were rash and careless.

After the session, as you and Logan leave the Danger Room, you catch sight of Ororo and Scott exchanging a look, the kind of look that speaks volumes, full of surprise and a touch of amusement.

“What?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you approach them.

Ororo smiles warmly, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Nothing, just… noticing how good you two are together.”

Scott nods in agreement, his expression softening as he glances at Logan. “Yeah, it’s… different, finally seeing him like this. In a good way.”

Logan shrugs, but there’s no hiding the small smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth. “What’re you guys talking about?”

“Just that it’s nice to see you happy, Logan,” Ororo says gently. “Really happy.”

Logan looks at you then, his smile growing as he meets your gaze. “Yeah. It is.”

More members of the team begin to notice the change in Logan as time goes on. Rogue, who has always had a soft spot for him, comments on how he seems more at ease, less burdened by the weight of his past. Hank, ever the observer, points out how Logan’s demeanor has shifted—less brooding, more open. Even Charles, who has seen Logan through his darkest times, pulls you aside one day to express his approval.

“I must say,” Charles says, his tone warm and approving, “I haven’t seen Logan like this in a very long time. Whatever you two have managed to sort out, it’s working.”

And it is. Slowly but surely, the wounds that had once held you back have healed. The doubts that had kept you from fully embracing your relationship with Logan have faded, replaced by a deep, abiding love. It isn’t just the little gestures anymore—it’s the way Logan makes you feel seen, heard, and cherished in a way that no one else ever has.

—

“I never thought we’d get here,” you admit one night whilst looking up at the stars.

Logan looks at you, his expression tender. “Neither did I,” he says, his voice full of sincerity. “But I’m damn glad we did.”

You smile, leaning into him as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I love you, Logan. And I trust you. Completely.”

His grip tightens slightly, as if to hold onto the moment, to hold onto you. “I love you too, darlin’. I never thought I’d feel this way about someone.”

You know what he’s trying to say. So without thinking, you reach up and cup his face, drawing him closer until your lips are just a breath away from his. “Show me,” you whisper, your voice low and filled with desire.

He doesn’t need any more encouragement. He closes the small gap between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that is soft at first, almost tentative, as if he’s savoring the feel of you. 

You can feel the heat between you building, the kiss growing more fervent as your hands roam over his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath his shirt, then into his hair. Brown. 

His hands slide up your back, one hand tangling in your hair as he angles your head, deepening the kiss further until you’re both breathless.

When you finally pull back, your foreheads resting against each other’s, you’re both panting, your hearts racing in sync. His eyes are dark with desire, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he holds you close.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmurs. “I never thought I’d get my happy ending, but here you are… and I’m never lettin’ you go.”

You smile, feeling the last remnants of pain melt away, replaced by a certainty that this is where you’re meant to be. “And I’m never leaving,” you whisper back, sealing your words with another kiss that quickly reignites the fire between you.

This kiss is hungrier, more urgent, as if you both need to make up for lost time. Logan’s hands roam your body with a possessiveness that sends shivers down your spine, his touch igniting a fire in your core.

That night, you lose yourself in him, in the way he tastes, in the way he makes love to you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. Because this time, you’re not just in love—you’re in love with a man who loves you back, fully and completely. 

And that makes all the difference.

----

a/n: i love you if you made it this far. please check out my new series The Feeling's Mutual

[hayatoseyepatch]

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Description: Getting kinky with the windbreaker boys. I have so many thoughts about these men and I just needed to get them out of my system. Characters: Toma Hiragi, Ren Kaji, Haruka Sakura, Hayato Suo, & Yamato Endo. Word Count: 2.2k Tags: fem!reader, brat taming, praise, somnophilia, edging, mommy kink, dacryphilia, consent non consent, choking, degradation, oral (fem!receiving), penetrative sex, dirty talk.

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a/n: These are more like thirsts than headcannons but oh well. I might expand on some of these eventually and turn them into full fics if I can sit down and commit to it. It the mental illness, innit? Regardless, I hope you enjoyed these little blurbs! Special shout out to @foxyfiction & @to-eden for helping me with the prompts for some of these, you both are amazing. <3

I also have a masterlist now, if you’re interested that could be found : HERE

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Brat Taming

Hiragi had enough of you today, your skirt pulled up high, a constant switch in your hips while on patrol today with the Tamon team. Constantly teasing him, whether it was pulling him into an alley for an impromptu make out session, bending over in front of him letting him catch a glimpse of your already wet panties, or rubbing against his perpetually hard cock as you “just needed to slip past him real quick”. He was patient, tension building throughout the day coming to a fever pitch when you had both made it back to your shared apartment. He was on you in moments, lifting the back of your skirt to lay a harsh lap to you ass. Grabbing a fistful of your hair as he growls in your ear. “ I want you on that bed and I want you completely bare, do you understand?” He releases you hair, watching as you strip for him, climbing on the bed moments after you do.

Grabbing a hold of your cheeks with a rough hand he forces you to look up at him, eyes glazed over with arousal. Squishing your cheeks he props your mouth open, shoving a long digit past your lips. He grins as your mouth instinctively wraps around the digit, pumping the finger in and out of your lips, eyes rolling back as he feels your tongue wrap around the digit. Sucking his teeth as you shoot him a wink as he stuffs a second digit in your mouth. “Such a fucking brat, you know that?” He forces your thighs apart, free hand punctuating his words with a harsh slap to your dripping cunt.

His fingers sliding down, his fist two digits using your saliva that coated them to rub fast smooth circles against the sensitive bud. “Don’t forget your still getting punished baby.” He tsks giving you a sharp toothed grin. “Look at your pretty cunt, clenching around nothing, poor baby.” He coos, leaning down to your ear, lips grazing the shell to whisper. “You’re going to have to come from just my fingers before you can have my cock baby, think you can do that for me, hmm?”

Praise (Receiving)

Kaji had lost his temper once more, today a fight had broken out. One of the members of the opposing gang had harshly grabbed your arm, tugging you against him spitting extremities about the things he plandded to do to you. The words coupled with the fear in your wide eyes had Kaji seeing red. Completely blacking out in a fit of rage, he hated his, he especially hated you seeing him like this. The few times he had lost his temper in front of you, he ran, unable to face you. But not this time, you wouldn’t let him run from you. Grabbing the sleeve of his jacket you were quick to take him back to your apartment, silencing whatever apologies or exasperations with your lips against his.

Walking him backward toward your bedroom you wait for the back of his knees to hit the mattress. Pushing him to sit down as you climb on his lap. Mouths entangling in a heated embrace, clothes being pulled from each others bodies in a rush of passsion. Kaji trails kisses down your exposed body, lips wrapping arount a perked bud taking your nipple into his mouth. You rocked your hips against his, gronaing into the air. Your hands unfaten his pants, and with his help you pull his cock from his pants. You give him a smile, stroking his cheeks, eyes soft with fondness. “You're such a good boy Ren, always so good to me.”

You coo, the praise falling from your lips as you place one more kiss to his lips. Moving to grab him by the base, positioning him at your entrance, the desperate look in his eyes is all the confirmation you need to sink down on his length. You bite your lip, letting out a whimper at the feeling of his thick cock filling you to the brim. You tangle one hand in his hair, pulling lightly on his blonde strands, while the other moves up to his shoulder, nails digging into the skin. Pulling away only far enough to mumble into his lips. “Fuck, Ren.. Feel so good, you fill me up so good baby. I love you so much.”

Somnophillia

You wake feeling something warm between your legs. It isn’t long before your head is thrown back against the pillows you were once sleeping soundly against, voice crying out in pleasure as your boyfriend’s tongue draws slow patterns on your sensitive clit. You look down at him eyes lidded with sleep and now lust. “Haru.. what are you doing?” You mumble, blinking the sleep from your eyes. Between your thighs you can feel his cheeks heat up, a feirce blush on his features. He barely pulls from your cunt, mumbling against your center. “Couldn’t sleep, needed to taste you, ‘m want you so bad.”

He groans, hips rutting into the mattress, desperate for some friction to his aching cock. Any further arguments are silenced by a loud moan erupting from your lips, Sakura licks a fat stripe up your clit brfore reattaching his lips fully to your nub. He eats your cunt with such desperation, as if he needed to conume you to keep air in his lungs. His tongue is soon replaced by the rough pad of his thumb, head ducking lower to slide his tongue inside of your entrance, sliding against the silk walls of your pussy. He groans deep in his throat, the vibrations of the noise only enhancing the pleasure you’re feeling. ”Always taste so fucking good, need more..” He groans, pulling from your center, he slides up your body lips attacking yours with reckless hunger. He slid the material of his boxers down in one swift motion, grabbing himself by the base of his cock, collecting your wetness on the tip of his cock using it to ease himself inside your velvety walls.

He lets out a loud groan as he fully sheaths his cock inside you, head dipping to capture your lips with his own. The kiss is immediately laced with hunger, teeth clashing and tongues dancing in each others mouths. He pulls away, heavy breaths fanning against your lips as he sets a harsh steady pace from the start. “Fuck baby… can’t even sleep without you consuming my thoughts. Need you desperately… constantly.. feel like I’ll lose it if I’m not inside of you.”

Edging/Mommy Kink

You place a delicate kiss to his lips, trailing your kisses down his body until you were situated between his thighs. Looking up at him with hooded eyes from your current position. “You weren't lying baby boy. Look at how hard you are.” You grin, not letting him answer as you gave a few experimental tugs to his cock. Leaning up to lick a fat stripe from his base to his tip, collecting the pre come that had been steadily dripping since you had begun. Pulling away and leaning up once again, you grab his face in your hand, forcing his mouth open before letting your saliva mixed with his precum drip from your mouth to his. Placing a hand over his mouth, you lean down to his ear. “Swallow baby, I want you to taste us.”

You take his shock as an opportunity to lower yourself back down between his legs, swirling your tongue around his sensitive mushroom tip, taking as much as your throat would allow, hollowing your cheeks. Beginning to bob your head up and down on  his cock. Choji tugged at the cloth around his wrists, restraining himself as much as he could to not buck his hips. Failing miserably as his body writhed under yours He cried out as he felt your warm mouth around his cock, tears collecting by the corners of his eyes. Whimpers and cries falling from his lips as he found every ounce of restraint to not let his body betray him. The could in his stomach building once more for what seemed like the umpteenth time that evening. He didn’t want to fuck all of this up and receive punishment even further. “Mommy, please your mouth is so warm… be careful. I dont wanna come.. too soon.”

You grin around him, looking up at him through your lashes, nearly removing yourself from him before plunging back down, taking him until you feel him hit the back of your throat. You do this a few more times before pulling yourself off his cock with a 'pop'. You make your way up his body, getting impatient yourself, feeling your cunt clench around nothing. Straddling his abdomen, right above where he needed you most,  pressing your lips against his in a heated kiss. Desperately trying not to show that you were just as affected by your actions. You grab a fistful of his hair, tugging harshly, effectively separating your lips as you speak against his lips. “Tell mommy what you want baby boy. Go on, use your words I want to hear you.”

Dacryphillia

Each one of your pleas fog his mind with uncontrollable lust. Wram brown irises drowning in it. “So desperate for me already, darling, we havent even begun the main event.” He teases, directly into your ear, as he finally lines the tip of his thick cock with your entrance. Suo had been teasing you for what seemed like hours. Pulling orgasm after orgasm from your overstimulated cunt. Having made you come undone on his fingers and tongue several times, your pussy having felt desperatly empty without his cock filling you. He grins as you whine, his head just barely probing your entrance. “Please, Haya.” You whimper desperate for him to do something, anything, tears blurring your vision as they collected at your lashline.

“Please?” He tiles his head in mocking obliviousness. “Please what princess? Gotta tell me what to do or I cant help you, tell me what is it that you want?” He coos, free hand sliding up your stomach, thumb circling a pert nipple. Grinning he leans down tugging on your earlobe with this teeth, breaths fanning against your ear as he continues to speak. “Want me to fill this pretty pussy up with my cock? Feeling you flutter against me, whimpering out my name from those beautiful lips. Is that what youre asking for my pretty little bunny?”

He grins eyes lithe with mischief as you continue to babble, words coming out in a jumbled mess of pleas and calls of his name. Fat tears stream down your cheeks, desperation for him consuming your entire being. Suo’s hand coming up to caress your cheek. Thumb swiping at the tears that cascaded down your face. “Oh, sweet baby” He purrs, slipping the same thumb past your lips, letting you taste the salty wetness of your tears. “Crying for me already? We’ve barely even started.” He giggles, hips lurching forward, slamming into you to the hilt with one swift movement of his hips. Groaning as your back arches from the bed, eyes rolling back with a scream of his name being forced from your lips. “As much as I’d love to hear you beg for it, ive been waiting for too long for you my princess.~”

Cat and Mouse/CNC

Your breaths come out in heavy pants, your heart racing in your chest, your feet slamming against the grassy terrain as you run as fast as your legs can carry you. The shadow of the figure on your tail looming behind you. You pushed further, weaving in and out of trees to shake your assailant. The dark wooded area was easy to get lost in. You had only paused your running for a moment, attempting to take in your soundings, looking for a route to escape. Attempting to catch your breath, you were sure you had lost him. Just as you were about to turn on your heel and take off once more your eyes shoot wide, feeling fingers of a large hand wrap themselves around your throat. Your attacker using their grip as leverage  to shove you roughly against a tree, the larger figure looms over yours. Tattooed fingers squeezing just enough to make gaining air flow a bit difficult. Lips grazing your ear as he leans down to your height. “Gotcha~”

Endo’s piercing blue eyes lock with yours, leaning down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. Tongue invading your mouth, free hand coming up to cup your dripping cunt. Fingers circling your clit through the thin fabric of your panties. He smirks against your lips as you moan into his mouth. Pulling from you, he quickly removes your soiled panties, running his finger between your soaked slit. Bringing his finger to his lips taking in the way you taste, moaning around his fingers.

“Fuck doll, you taste so fucking good. Already so fucking wet for me.” He uses his thumb to force your mouth open, spitting a glob of saliva between your parted lips. “Go on babydoll, taste yourself.” He chuckles as you instinctively swallow, turning you in his embrace so your bent over. Flipping up your skirt, he leans back to take all of you in, eyes hungrily wracking over your exposed sex. Parting your folds with a thumb, watching as your entrance contracts around nothing a large grin splits across his face as he lands a harsh slap against your ass. “Gotta remind you who this belongs too huh? This cunt is mine princess.”

═══°∴,*⋅✲════〖✰〗════✲⋅*,∴°═══

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! I already have a part two in mind for this, so keep an eye out. Until then, see you later!

[screampied]

❛ BON APPÉTIT, BABY! ❜ g. satoru

☆ sum. stupid ovulation week is approaching soon and out of nowhere, you get baby fever. you ask your sugar daddy for help but his version of ‘help’ is trying to get you pregnant.

wc. 5.1k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), praise, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy, implied multiple rounds, size kink, ōral (f! receiving), he makes out w your panties, overstim, major brēeding kink, nıpple play, spıt, impact play, petnames.

➤ sd! gojo masterlist.

fuck, these cramps never knew when to quit.

you were crawled up in a ball on the sofa, suffering in agonizing silence. you sigh, taking a brisk glance near the grandfather clock that sits beside satoru gojo, your sugar daddy’s glass cabinets. oh, you missed him. it’s been a few good months with him as his sugar baby and you felt like a princess—no, a queen. he’s showered you with many many praises, not just gifts but of course, that too. you’re so lonely in his mansion, but you wondered what he was doing right now. probably working, you knew how busy of a businessman he was, but you missed him. his smell, his presence, his petnames. whipping out your phone, you unlock it, skimming toward his contact. ‘toru’ with a pretty pink heart as his contact, you text him a sweet forward ‘miss you.’

not even seconds later, he replies, giving your message a heart. ‘Hi, sweetheart. i miss you too. being a good girl for me, yeah?’

with a pout, your eyes skim through his flirty words and you press the video call button. you couldn’t wait. . you needed to see him. satoru answers it, and as expected, he’s sat upright in his office. so handsome, his snowy white hair was ruffled yet neatly slicked back and parted. he wore the suit you picked out for him, the jet-black one with a tie that makes his pretty blue eyes pop. “hey you,” a raspy voice utters on the phone, and he’s snickering at how you’re just lazily slump on the couch, bored out of your damn skull. “put some clothes on, darlin’.”

“no,” you grump, although you did have clothes on. clothes that basically consisted of a thin sage tank top and panties. satoru was typing on his computer. you heard the quickness of his fingers typing away as he’s taking every few glances to look at you again. “come home, ‘toru. these cramps are killin’ me,” and you mumble the last part under your breath. “. . andiwantababy.”

it’s a long silent pause and he’s fully looking at you through the screen now. all that could be heard in the background was the screeching and beeps of his costly fax machine.

satoru’s got a glint in his eyes before his voice pitches, and he slyly hums. “oh, you want a baby, sweets? my, you really do need me ‘ta come home, huh.”

you squeeze your thighs together, positioning your phone to lie in landscape mode—you were still a bit sensitive from earlier, from touching yourself. as your breath excitingly hitches, you couldn’t help but pout again.

“ ‘toru, think ‘m havin’ baby fever or something,” and your words were oh so sweet. satoru’s sitting up against his chair, leaning up against his palm. the shine of his expensive g-shock glimmers in the light within each time he moves. “come home, please.”

“sweetheart,” he tsks, two white arched brows piercing together. he could never say no to you, he spoiled you so much . . not that he never minded either. you were his baby, and satoru playfully scoffs at your needy declaration. “you really can’t wait another hour? i’m almost done.”

“no,” you grouse, a cute glower stretching across your features, marinating as you speak. satoru chuckles at your bratty persistence, and you watch as he fixes his tie, lightly tugging on it.

“fine, fine,” he gruffs. “i’m coming, princess. wear that new designer set i bought for you, okay? ya know the one, the rose-gold?”

smearing your glossed lips against each other, you give him a nod. you ached for him, each second you spent on the phone was a constant reminder of how he wasn’t there with you. satoru found your clinginess adorable though. it was cute how you’d always text and call him while he’s at work. even if his responses were hours late, he’d always get back to you, sending you sweet ‘hi baby’ and ‘i miss you more, pretty,’ ‘s.

if you were feeling bold, you’d send him a few pictures of yourself in one of the many expensive custom-made sets of lingerie he buys you.

his favorite would have to be the ‘satoru gojo’ exclusive brand of lingerie for women, he literally bought the entire stock of all colors just for you.

“okay,” you mumble, already making your way toward his bedroom. a few of his servants and butlers were dusting away at furniture and his entire mansion was huge. it was spacey, you could practically get lost in it. as you stomp lightly, the bare soles of your feet slide against the glassy-textured floor before you glance down at your screen. “drive safe.”

“i will, sweets. see you soon, yeah?”

with a beep, the call ends and it’s just you trapped in your own silent thoughts.

as you made your way to the master bedroom, immediately, you’re met with the loud cologne scent of satoru. it’s enchanting, it’s always the same smell of cinnamon and spices. satoru gojo always smelled rich regardless. rich was his middle name. you dig through your walk-in closet he had made for you, fishing out the set he wanted to see you wear. it was dashingly pretty.

he bought the rose-gold set as a gift for your birthday, and even if it did hurt his pockets a lot, he never cared. anything for you—his pretty baby.

about forty minutes later, satoru returns home finally and he yawns, stretching his long limbs. you scurry to him, your head reaching just near the center of his chest and he lightly jerks back.

“hey baby,” he returns the hug, big callused hands roaming up and down your exposed skin. the lingerie fit you perfectly, displaying your curves and gorgeous physique. satoru buried his face into the crook of your neck, planting a soft kiss. “you’re so spoiled. i can’t always leave work jus’ because you miss me, y’know.”

“i know,” you let off a soft moan, his soft lips creating gingerly mushy traces everywhere near your skin. he was always so tender, nips of kisses slowly turning into flicks with his tongue. satoru’s left hand slowly snakes near your leg, raising it up before wrapping it around his slim torso. your ankle rubs against the burberry belt he wore. it clanks loudly and he then lifts you up. “s- satoru!”

“what?” he hums, leading you closer toward the bed.

you heard the playfulness in his tone, and he’s got you in such a firm grasp. his fingertips continue to roam down your soft skin, snagging against the laced fabric that wraps around your body like a christmas present. “god, you’re so hot,” he murmurs in a raspy tone, and you glance at his parted slick backed hair. it’s unkempt now, white strands and tresses running down his eyes. he lies you down on the bed gently, and that’s when he gets on top of you.

you gulp, meeting the eyes of satoru. pretty blue eyes, they’re always so mesmerizing to look at.

but this time, he’s got a more feral look in his pupils as they dilate. “sweetheart,” he whispers, using a thumb to caress the edge of your twitching lip. with the way you’re prettily sprawled all out like this for him at his very mercy, there’s so much he wanted to do. satoru’s eyes never leave yours, not for a single second. “do you really want a baby or is just the baby fever?”

“b- both,” you gasp, not even noticing his hand creeping down between your legs, parting them apart.

you moan, feeling his palm rub up against the outline of your panties. so soaked, satoru’s breath hitches at your sweet whimpers and he’s so close up to you. so close that his rock-hard boner presses up against you and fuck, it’s hard. a visible tinted bulge was sticking out the center of his slacks and it’s driving him mad.

the mental image of you with a swollen tummy, all plump and baring his child, it makes him groan. satoru’s had his fair share amount of sugar babies in the past, but none of them were you.

“such a silly little girl,” he huffs, a bit of humor in his tone. but not wanting to waste any time, he leans in, capturing your lips into a deep hungry kiss.

whiny moans pour into his mouth - he’s sweet.

the minty kind of sweet where you taste peppermint lingering on his tongue.

satoru kisses sloppy this time, gradually grinding his body against yours. it’s incredibly sloppy, not much passion and more-so filth—strings of spit tangle with each other, forming little lustrous cobwebs of saliva before he sucks on your tongue. his pretty white lashes flutter before he opens them, staring at you, grunting right in your mouth. his boner continues to rub off against your clothed pussy and his groans only grow louder.

“fuuuuckk,” he swears, smacks of lips ringing through his ears. it was something about you, he didn’t know what it was but you were addicting.

satoru starts to peel off the pieces of lingerie piece by piece. by peel, he’s carelessly tearing through it as if the entire designer set didn’t cost him an arm, a leg, and a fucking torso. but again, even with his pockets swollen and suffering because of you, he’d buy you the whole world if he could. well, he probably could. he’s satoru gojo. “sweets, ‘m gonna devour you.”

five words.

five words that constantly went on a loop in your head as satoru’s eating out your cunt like a starved man.

he was starved, it’s been hours since he’s seen you. as he’s delving his face right between the plush of your thighs. you moan, chomping the front row of your teeth down on your quivering bottom lip. fuck, he was just nasty.

merely seconds passed and he’s already slobbering over your pussy. strands and strands of glossy spit trickles from his lips and onto your folds. “ ‘toruuuu,” you whimper, relishing in the way his tongue curls all throughout your drooling core. he’s maneuvering all kinds of shapes and circles, even spelling all letters of his name on your cunt with his tongue. scarlet plump lips of his gently kiss near your labia whilst warm breath ghosts near your sappy slit. shaking all from his tongue, the bed grows rickety from your movements and you inhale a sharp breath.

your fingers get intertwined between his white locks of hair and you pull tight.

his head tugs forward into you and he grunts, swaying his slick pink muscle in and out of your cunt. “mngh,” he groans, and that’s when he sneaks a hand between your pried open legs.

you stare down at him as he’s devouring you whole, slurping everything out of you until he’s satisfied - and that won’t be for a good while.

it doesn’t take a while before he’s already completely pussy drunk.

satoru’s fingers slither near your pussy and as his flat tongue repeats to lap lap lap up your syrupy sweet juices, he pops inside a single finger.

an exasperated breathy gasp snatches straight out the back of throat before you immediately feel the mouthwatering stretch of his digits and it’s toe curling.

if it was one thing about satoru, his fingers were long, slender, and also very very thick.

with a single swirl motion he’s making with his finger shoved deep inside, you’re already at the verge of breaking. crumbling because of his sloppy tongue. his fingers could stretch you out just as much as his cock could.

satoru even had you keep your panties on for him. the same panties he bought you as a gift.

a gift where he collaborated with victoria’s secret, your panties had both of his infamous initials bedazzled on the front and back. god, every time he traces his tongue over the tiny little beads, it drives him crazy every time.

you drive him crazy.

his flat laid tongue teasingly licks at the silk fabric before it turns into a whole raunchy make out sesh. pretty white lashes flap as he’s slurping everything out of you, missing no spot.

he couldn’t afford to, not when you tasted this good.

“we’re a ‘lil squirmy today, huh,” he snickers, feeling your weak thighs writhe because of his tongue.

it felt so good, the way he’s casually slurping you, eating your pussy as if it was the last thing to devour on earth. such raunchy sloshing sloshes cry out from your cunt and he groans. your fingers remain tangled in his hair, yanking on his messy tresses before he flicks his tongue against that spot.

it’s soft and spongy, and with the help of his long fingers curling and scissoring in and out of your sopping pussy, you let off a candied three-second shriek. “oh, darlin. found it, did i?”

“fuck, ‘toru,” your body falls back against the silk pillows.

multiple wanton whimpers slither from your lips as he’s continuously toying his tongue against your g-spot. it seemed as if his tongue was helping with your cramps entirely. such pressure builds up in your body and you were just so hot that you felt like you were gonna explode. “gonna cum, fuck fuck.” you’re babbling out pathetic cries that fall deaf to his pointed ears. satoru hums in smug amusement, jaw feeling tight and locking but he doesn’t care.

he was feeling pretty exhausted from coming back from work but just a single taste of your pussy and suddenly, he was energized once again.

ironic.

his two fingers continue to swivel around inside your gripping walls as your body slumps into the mattress in lewd defeat. satoru grunts, grinding his boner against the edge of the bed to calm himself but you made it so hard.

you made him hard.

as he’s luxuriating in this eagle view of your legs prettily laid up for him, he’s merely knuckles deep.

you can barely stay still and the bed’s staring to grow rickety. satoru’s speed of his tongue doesn’t falters, and as he’s slurping every drop from your sappy folds—you let out your final elongated moan. it’s long, your legs erupt dramatically and shake within his hold before you’re finally cumming. it drags for a long time and you’re just nothing but hysterical.

overwrought with emotions and pleasure, your legs finally collapse—as if they weren’t already basically limp, you exhale deeply.

“fuck, fuck fuuuck,” you repeat, watching with hazy murky eyes as he pulls your panties back toward the center with his teeth. satoru licks up your sweet saccharine-flavored juices that seep out from you, savoring the honeyed taste on his tongue before you pull on his hair . . hard.

“tsk. watch the hair, girl,” he warns you, still being cheeky and playful.

your cunt embarrassingly twitches once he makes eye contact with you again. satoru sits up, his entire chin coated with nothing but your slit. its a stream of it and it’s pretty. it was just the way it trickles down and he laps the crevices of his lips with his tongue. “so cute,” he murmurs, and he closes the gap between you both. as satoru feels your trembly legs wrap around his waist, he pulls you into another deep passionate kiss.

you moan right into his mouth, lazily tossing your arms over his broad-built shoulders before feeling him yank your panties down your legs and ankles.

satoru’s body was hot.

he still had his business attire on, and he feels your hand slowly removing his tie. your other hand runs down his tux, sliding inside the center to feel his washboard chiseled and hiding underneath the piles of formal work clothes.

“such a needy ‘lil thing,” he whispers gruffly between kisses, chuckling once he sees the forming pout tweak against your swollen lips.

satoru rubs a thumb over you lip before his crystalline-colored irises meet yours. the silence was cold, he’s got a wolffish smirk compressing against his lips before he mutters right near your ear. “now, let’s give ya that baby, sweetheart.”

saying ‘baby’ was an understatement.

with the way satoru was about to fuck you, he planned on giving you triplets.

maybe even more, and the constant rambles of how little ‘ole you was stuck in his mansion all day with baby fever did something to him. oh, poor thing, suffering with cramps all day. it was the end of the world. to you at least it was. but like the loving sugar daddy he was, satoru figured he’d do his best to ease your little ‘problems.’

“gimme that pretty arch, goooood..” he purrs, using a hand to rub down your exposed back.

satoru groans—his formal trousers / pants were pulled down to his ankles and he’s staring at your pretty ass. so cute. he watches with a carnal glint in his eye as you position yourself, gnawing on your lip and the bars of your enclosure. the anticipation was about to bury you six feet under.

his leaky tip slowly smears and bedaubs against your dripping clit and you whine. your hands, clammy and all, roughly grip onto the richly-made sheets.

his tip was fat, it’s got a glistening swollen head that’s teasing you. satoru’s breathing grows shallow once he sees your pussy cutely trying to swallow. “fuck, please,” you croak, desperate for him to go inside. he always does this—everytime.

right before he’s preparing himself to fuck you raw, satoru smacks his bulbous cockhead against your sappy weeping folds, hearing your sweet little cries grow unsatisfied. all you could think about was having him breed you full . . over and over and over again, you didn’t just want it, you needed it.

you needed him.

“relaaaax, sweet thing. ‘m comin,” a chortle dies from his throat as he feels you trying to wriggle your hips.

you’re impatient, and once he’s fully aligned, he’s finally dipping his weighty cock inside your perfectly tucked folds.

suddenly, your needy whines stop and they turn into whines of rapture. satoru trails a big hand toward the cusps of your ass, tracing down the cute curvy curvature of your body before your skin’s met with a rude swat.

you moan as he’s easing himself inside your gummy walls, stretching you open even more than his fingers did. “atta fuckin’ girl. let me in, biiiiiig stretch, there we go.”

the stretch . . you’d never get used to it, never.

your stomach heaves once he’s reeling his hips in. “s- shit,” you kiss your teeth, your knees already buckling and becoming weak. satoru spanks your bare ass again just to hear those sweet yelps leave your lips. he’s so fucking big, it doesn’t take long before he’s bottoming out and you hear the welcoming ‘pop’. satoru groans once he starts to move, one hand holding onto your hip—another focused on your pretty perked ass. he likes this view, the view of his sweet girl arched over on all fours. satoru bites his lip as he starts to make delicious haste with his sharp keen hips.

“god,” his head throws itself back briefly at a certain angle.

already, white strands stick to his forehead with the help of his sweat substituting as glue. satoru’s voice shakes as his cock’s fully in, your clingy gripping walls were so warm and it makes his mouth water from the inside. “missed my favorite pussy so fuckin’ bad, so bad,” and you feel a few droplets plop down your back. satoru’s eyes rove over, watching you writhe again and he sheepishly snickers.

he was drooling.

“heh, sorry.” and he wipes his mouth with his wrist, the feral feeling pooling in his gut never fading.

you’re a mess underneath him, the second he starts to drill his hips into you—it’s over.

satoru’s stamina was always unhinged.

the bed croaks and groans from the constant shakes ‘n creaks it has to endure each second. the hinges were quite loud, you heard the rusty creaking wood that reverbs throughout the room. his cock continued to pound into you as his body’s on top of yours, in full sync with your own sloppy movement.

you’re whimpering, your head already being smushed against the pillow as the undersides of his thigh start to feel minuscule pangs. “toru, toruuu,” you mewl out in a melodic whisper. he’s hitting you deep, your glossed lips part into a circle before you huff.

each strike of his hips felt more precise and brutal. . you wanted more, you wanted to feel him more.

“i know, i know,” he coos, thumbs circling around your waist as he holds you in place.

satoru’s hips were so sculptured and sharp that they give you whiplash every time. he’s got such power within each salacious strike that it makes your head spin. every single stroke, you’re left stupid and speechless with your tongue already dangling out of your mouth. the room grew steamy within a span of a few minutes. it smells like nothing but pure passionate sex.

by now, your eyes were rolling toward the very backs of your sockets in utter elated pleasure. you’re seeing nothing but splashes of ivory black and white. “aht aht. c’mere, don’t fuckin’ run sweetheart,” his voice was as smooth as silk. satoru feels your unsteady hips trying to crawl away but he reels you back in. “nuh uh. take it, take it, take it, girl.” he groans, his heavy hanging balls thwacking right against your ass within each pivotal thrust.

the band of his platinum-colored watch rubs off against your skin again—he’s watching you jerk back against him. his cock was so full, he licks his lips at the thought of your pretty pussy and how you were gonna wring him dry like you always do.

“fuck me, fuck me ‘toru,” your whimpering words were repeating itself over and over as if you were a broken record. the pit of your stomach coils as each second draws itself out before he’s grunting gruffly. your cunt’s sloppy, coating his base with sheeny amounts and globs of slick. white hairs from his neat pubes stick against his skin and satoru’s now grinding into you. “ah, right there, ngh please.”

“thaaaaat’s it pretty girl,” he snarls in a raspy voice, feeling the fat smacking stings of your ass jolt backward into his pelvis. “fuck me right back, mhm. gimme this pussy, make me proud baby.”

as he’s whispering all sorts of praises and dirty words, you can feel yourself reaching your limit soon — it’s so close.

a fluttering sensation brews up inside your stomach before satoru suddenly groans. “fuck,” his cock’s wholly stretching you out to your elastic limit before it meets that same textured spongey barrier again. he knows right away because your knees buckle, your breath grows quicker, and you let off another surprised shriek.

right there, x marks the spot after all and he was constantly hitting his tip there until you let out cute shrilling screams.

“goddamn, ‘m gonna cum, sweets,” and his voice grows more shakier the longer he’s inside.

it’s as if time stood still.

the constant rotation of swiveling gyrations from each angle, each body has your head spinning like a merri-go-‘round.

you were probably looking a dumb cock-drunk mess. unkempt strands of hair were already flopping down your face and occluding your view of vision entirely. satoru pierces his white brows together before lightly shoving you further into the mattress. as you’re cutely arched forward with your ass raised up, he leans way into your back, wrapping a hand softly around the back your throat.

“gonna fuckin’ give ya twins. one isn’t enough, pretty girl. need that tummy swollen ‘n plump s- so bad,” and he inches his lips toward your spine, still pumping into you deep. “gonna make you my pretty ‘lil mama.”

as he continued to spoke, you whine as his cock plummets into your wet sopping cunt over and over. it’s to the point where your ears recognize the slapping sounds of skin. the squelches your wet cunt made had him groaning.

he’s breathing in huge chunks of air as he’s merely crushing you with his weight. as you both robustly rut into each other in flawless unison, satoru’s hefty weight that hovers over you anchors into yours, slamming further into you.

“fuck, don’t stop, hngh,” and your words were as shaky as your chattering teeth.

he couldn’t keep his hands off you, literally.

sweaty open palms paw at every part of your body. near your doughy tits, your ass—his favorite part, and even your pretty plush thighs that were nearly gluing together. “satoru, satoru, pleaseee.”

“mhm, sweets..” his voice tremors and cracks before a sharp gasp wretches out of him. out of nowhere, you feel his hips come to an abrupt stop and he groans loudly.

it’s so loud that it’s an almost bellowing roar, both of his ears clank at the blissful sensations. satoru grows quiet once he feels it, that familiar pressure that’s been stored full inside him for the longest.

he’s cumming, and it’s so much, a slimy knot shoots out and freely dribbles into your inviting swollen cunt and he chews the inside of his cheek. “fuck m- me,” he stammers, still holding both sides of your rickety hips.

the room’s filled with husky pants and skin slapping until he’s slowing down - velvety stringy ribbons spurt into you raw until he’s hoarsely panting like a dog at the sight.

he can’t stop staring. such a mess, but you’re his mess. god, the way it just leisurely trickles inside of you, spilling all down the sides of your jittery folds because it can’t keep all of it in. the sounds were even more filthy, sloshing squeaks feels the room and he goes quiet just to get a good enough listen. satoru came so much—so so much that it lasted for a plethora of long obscene seconds. as he’s trying to get over his orgasm, he’s still chewing at the inside of his cheek, his face growing flustered. his hips become strikingly sloppy and he’s basically humping you. “god, have my fuckin’ kids, sweetheart. ugh,” and satoru’s as prettiest as he’s ever been.

with his lip dragging from his teeth biting near the bottom, his eyes scrunch shut and white brows curl up. huffing out a big deep exhale, he’s sweating bullets.

his thick calves felt like they were on fire but he didn’t have enough of you yet. there was never enough of you. you had him whipped—he’s allowing you to milk him, relishing in the fact that your sweet cunt was just wringing him dry to the max.

satoru steadies your hips with his quavery hands, peering down at the masses of sweltering hot cum that drips down your legs and he grunts. “s- satoru,” you shiver, gasping once he pulls out only to flip you right over.

“not done. still got so much more ‘ta give my pretty girl,” he breathes, and it’s a feral look in his eyes. satoru raises your leg up slowly, his rings tickling against your bare skin. “lie on your back. i fuckin’ need more.”

satoru fucks you for hours.

any position you could even think of, he’s doing it.

both stacked bodies glisten with sheets of sweat as they rut back and forth against each other, fingers merrily intertwined. he’s determined to get you pregnant and your moans only fuel him. the rowdy snaps of his vigorous hips only grew stronger.

his stamina, you’re blinking, wondering if he’s even human. despite the drops of perspiration tearing from the sides of his face and his heaving long breaths, satoru showed no signs of fatigue.

he was drilling his thick cock into you again and again—giving you orgasm after orgasm.

your toes curl as you’re trying to keep up with him but it’s to no avail. weighty balls continue to rigorously slam into your core as you’re currently in mating press. the compressing weight of satoru melting against you makes you whine.

he’s so warm, and with the way he’s breathing down your neck, babbling how he’s gonna make you the most prettiest mommy in the world makes your cunt throb. “you’re so pretty like this,” he moans into your neck, his thrusts becoming weak yet again.

globs of cum dribble from your pussy as he’s right between your thighs, his cock springing up. he hisses at the feeling, feeling your arms wrap around his back. satoru groans at the twinge near his extensor muscles that flex.

you gave him scratches that ran all down his back. he pays for your weekly manicures just so you can paint his back with scratches with your pretty acrylics.

his pretty girl.

you’re a stammering mess, plugged all the way up with such creamy thin ropes and your body was already limp. with his dick still delved inside, satoru grabs your chin—pressing another kiss against your lips. you moan, twisting and tangling your balmy hot tongue with his before he presses a hand down on your tummy. you whine in his mouth, skimming your crumped up fingers down his little undercut.

satoru groans at the feeling of your digits toying with the back part of his hair. “s- satoru,” you speak between kisses in short gasps for air. your ankle brushes up and down his back and it makes him grunt - your touch made him weak. “ ‘m so full, fuck.”

“yeah you fuckin’ are, sweetheart,” he licks near your bottom lip.

satoru’s body was so hot against yours, even while he was fully milked out he was still stuffing you full. the sheets were a mess, but he didn’t care in the slightest. his cerulean-blue eyes rove down towards your chest before he leans down. you stare at him, panting—and that’s when he latches his tongue against your neglected tits.

so perfect,

he makes sure to lather viscous strings of saliva on both of them, including your sensitive perky nipples. “mhm.” he groans, feeling your fingers fish through his white tangled strands. he’s sucking on each of your breasts with the most stupidest pussy drunken grin.

after a few seconds, he removes his spit-slick lips, a string of saliva following before he gazes up at you. with a sly worn out gaze, he cups both of your tits with his hands, giving them a good squeeze. “aw. my girls are gonna be full of milk soon,” and satoru kisses near your chin, your forehead, your cheek, and then finally, your lips.

you return the wet sultry kiss before he abruptly pulls away, holding your chin. “can’t wait to be a daddy, darlin,” he says in a gruff drowsy voice. you watch as he gradually pulls out, moving his head down toward your bare tummy. satoru presses a kiss near your navel before his eyes stare right back up at you.

“now let’s wait for this pretty ‘lil bump, hm?”

[harrysfolklore]

the honorary WAG - cl16

summary: yn has always been known as 'the honorary wag', since she's kika's best friend and adored by all the other wags, but what happens when the girls want her to become an official wag? a bet to get her and charles together before kika and pierre's wedding sounds like a plan.

word count: 6.9k + social media posts

folkie radio: i saw that video of alex and charles dancing at a wedding and i felt like i NEEDED to write something that involved charles and weddings, this was the result ! i really hope you like it (if you do please leave a reblog)

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by charles_leclerc, yourinstagram and 2,037,465 others

pierregasly Last night I proposed to the love of my life and she said yes. @/francisca.cgomes I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, I love you ❤️

view all 54,268 comments

username1 OMFG

username2 NO WAAAAYYYYYYY

lilymhe CRYING RIGHT NOW 😭😭🥺💗

↳ username1 AHHH THE WAGS NEED TO BE BRIDESMAIDS

alex_albon Amazing news ❤️ ♥︎ by author

charles_leclerc Wow I can’t believe my childhood best friend is getting married, you both deserve all the happiness in the world and I’m so happy for you ❤️ ♥︎ by author

↳ username2 CRYING AGAIN

↳ username3 he needs to be the best man idc

username3 this wedding is going to be out of this world

francisca.cgomes IM STILL OVER THE MOON. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ♥︎ by author

↳ username5 KIKA IS GOING TO BE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BRIDE EVER

landonorris YOO I CANT WAIT FOR THIS PARTY ♥︎ by author, francisca.cgomes, yourinstagram, lewishamilton, iamrebeccad, oscarpiastri

↳ username1 LANDOOOO PLEASE

↳ username2 and i can’t wait to see him absolutely wasted

yourinstagram MY BEST FRIEND IS GETTING MARRIED 🥹🥹🥹🥹 IM CRYING AGAIN ♥︎ by author, francisca.cgomes

↳ username3 yn and kika are the it girls

↳ username4 she’s probably going to be the maid of honor im crying over people who don’t know me

liked by francisca.cgomes, lilyzneimer and 65,826 others

yourinstagram MY BEST FRIEND IN THE ENTIRE WORLD IS GETTING MARRIED 🥺 im so happy for you both @/francisca.cgomes @/pierregasly (even if that means that you finally stole her from me) let the wedding planning begin 🕺

view all 3,237 comments

username1 congrats kika and pierre !!

username2 it girls ❤️‍🔥

carmenmmundt This wedding will be the best thing ever ♥︎ by author, francisca.cgomes, lilyzneimer, lilymhe, iamrebeccad

↳ lilymhe I KNOW

↳ username3 i love that yn is not a wag but she’s loved among the wags anyway

username4 oh to be a guest at this wedding

landonorris Can I be a bridesmaid too?

↳ pierregasly No

↳ francisca.cgomes No

↳ username1 HEEEELP poor little lando norris 😭

francisca.cgomes I LOVE YOU SO MUCH SISSY 🥺 you’ll always be my wifey even if i’m married to someone else ♥︎ by author

↳ pierregasly That hurt

↳ yourinstagram OOPS

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

gasly - gomes wedding 💍💍 groupchat

the bridesmaids 👯‍♀️ groupchat

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

INSTAGRAM

liked by username1, username2 and 54,837 others

womenofthepaddock Kika Gomes (soon to be Mrs. Gasly), Carmen Montero (Spain’s national treasure) and YN (the honorary WAG) have arrived to the Paddock #SpainGP

view all 5,048 comments

username1 SLAYYY

username2 they’re all so stunning omg

username3 oh to be one of them

username4 i love how yn is really the honorary wag

↳ username1 she should just date someone from the grid atp ♥︎ by lilyzneimer, carmenmmundt, francisca.cgomes, lilymhe, iamrebeccad

↳ username2 ALL THE WAGS LIKING THIS COMMENT 😭

username5 i NEED yn’s outfit

username6 get yourself a bestfriend like kika gomes who takes you to formula one races

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

📍BARCELONA, SPAIN.

Every time you agreed to join Kika for her boyfriend's (and now, fiancé) races, the same question came to your mind: "Why is the paddock so confusing?"

You were currently trying to make your way back to Alpine hospitality, where you're supposed to watch the race from, but you kept getting lost. The maze of motorhomes, garages, and bustling activity was overwhelming. The constant hum of mechanics working, team members rushing around, and fans hoping for a glimpse of their favorite driver made it all more chaotic.

"YN, hey!" you heard a voice call out for you, turning around, you saw Rebecca and Carlos walking your way.

"Hey guys," you greeted them with a small hug once they approached you.

"Got lost again?" Carlos asked, and you remembered the time he found you in the same situation a couple of years ago.

"Yeah, this place is like a labyrinth. I have no idea how you guys navigate it so easily."

"Years of practice," Carlos chuckled, "Come on, We'll walk you to Alpine. It's not too far from here."

"Wait," Rebecca said before you could even start walking, "Why don't you come to Ferrari with us a bit, I'm sure Kika and Pierre won't mind."

Your eyebrows immediately raised at Rebecca's suggestion, noticing the teasing smirk on her face. She wanted to carry on with her (and the girl's) plan of making you like Charles.

Charles Leclerc, loved by millions, but you weren't quite one of them.

It's not that you actively disliked him, but there was something about him that didn't sit right with you.

Maybe it was the fact that every single time you've interacted with him ever since you started joining Kika for F1 stuff, he was somehow rude to you.

The last thing you wanted was to have an awkward interaction with him at the Ferrari garage, but you knew Rebecca wouldn't let you go that easily.

"Okay, fine," you sighed, "I'll come with you guys.

"Great! Let's go then." Rebecca's face lit up with a smile.

The three of you walked towards the Ferrari garage, the race wasn't starting for another few hours so you knew you were inevitably running into Charles once you got there.

"This is the perfect opportunity to clear the air between you and Charles," Rebecca elbowed you, almost making you roll your eyes, "Who knows? Maybe you have more in common that you realize."

"You and Charles don't like each other?" Carlos asked you, reaching out to hold his girlfriend's hand.

"Stop, It's not like that," you said, almost throwing your head back in frustration, "Every time we've interacted, he's been... dismissive. Rude, even. I don't know if it's just me or if he's like that with everyone."

"Charles can be a bit intense sometimes, especially on race weekends," Carlos pointed out, "But he's a good guy. Maybe you two just got off on the wrong foot."

"Maybe," you muttered, not entirely convinced.

You eventually reached the Ferrari garage, Rebecca and Carlos led the way, weaving through the throngs of people with ease. You tried to keep up, feeling a bit like a fish out of water in the sea of red uniforms.

You spotted Charles almost immediately, deep in conversation with one of his engineers and not even noticing that the three of you entered the room.

"Charles, hey!" Rebecca called out for him, you really admired her determination on the matter.

"Hey guys," Charles approached you, and you couldn't help but get a good look at him.

He might not be your favorite on the grid, but you couldn't deny that he was really handsome.

"You remember YN, right?" Rebecca asked with a hint of mischief in her eyes.

"Of course," Charles replied, a small smirk playing on his lips, "You're going to be Kika's maid of honor, right?"

"That's right," you nodded, a bit surprised he remembered.

Rebecca and Carlos exchanged a knowing glance before Carlos spoke up, "We need to go check on something. You two, catch up."

You shot them a look of disbelief, but they were already walking away, leaving you and Charles alone.

"So, what have you been up to?" Charles asked, leaning casually against the wall. "It's been a while since I've seen you around."

"Yeah, I haven't really been able to come to any races, I'm moving to Monaco, so that has been keeping me busy," you said, trying to keep the conversation light.

"Really? Which area?" he asked, a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice.

You told him the name of the neighborhood, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. "No way. I live there too. Are you the one who's been making all those moving noises two houses away from mine?"

"I fear that would be me," you laughed, feeling some of the awkwardness melt away, "I didn't know you lived there."

"Small world, huh?" he chuckled, and for the first time, you saw a glimpse of the Charles that everyone else seemed to adore.

"Yeah, it is," you agreed, still a bit cautious but warming up to him. "Guess we'll be seeing more of each other."

"Looks like it," he said with a smile, "I mean, at least you'll have someone you can ask for a cup of milk when you run out."

As you continued to chat with Charles, you found yourself genuinely enjoying the conversation. It was a stark contrast to your previous encounters with him, and it made you question your initial judgment. His smile was warm, his laugh infectious, and the more you talked, the more you realized how much you had in common.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Rebecca and Carlos across the garage, watching the two of you with satisfied smiles and you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at them. You were already expecting the girls groupchat to explode with messages about you and Charles.

"Looks like your plan is working," Carlos said to Rebecca, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

"Told you it would," Rebecca grinned, "The rest of the girls and I even made a bet."

"A bet?" Carlos raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Yep," Rebecca confirmed, a playful glint in her eyes. "We bet on getting them together before Pierre and Kika's wedding. We all agree they'd make a great match."

"You and your schemes, amor," Carlos chuckled, shaking his head, "But I have to admit, you might be onto something."

Rebecca leaned her head on Carlos's shoulder, watching you and Charles laugh together. "Trust me, Carlos. Sometimes people just need a little nudge in the right direction."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

INSTAGTAM

liked by francisca.cgomes, charles_leclerc and 70,002 others

yourinstagram back on the f1 gig and reunited with my girls 🤍 the last slide shows how much the soon to be married couple loves each other

tagged: francisca.cgomes, pierregasly, lilyzneimer, lilymhe, carmenmmundt and iamrebeccad

view all 3,987 comments

username1 SLAYYY

username2 the honorary WAG for real

carmenmmundt I missed you so much 🫶 ♥︎ by author

↳ yourinstagram same here 🥲

f1gossip We love the WAGS (and yn) being besties

↳ username1 they need a masterplan to make yn a wag ♥︎ by iamrebeccad, lilyzneimer, francisca.cgomes

pierregasly My fiancée loves me 🥰

↳ francisca.cgomes more like tolerates

↳ yourinstagram she’ll always love me more

lilymhe bridesmaids gang 👯‍♀️ ♥︎ by author

↳ landonorris Am I still not allowed in the gc?

↳ francisca.cgomes exactly

↳ username2 HEEEEEELP

charles_leclerc Lovely to catch up. See you around in Monaco 😉 ♥︎ by author

↳ yourinstagram likewise 😊

↳ username1 HELLOOOO???

↳ username2 SOMEONE DECODE THIS

↳ username3 i think this is the first time i see charles and yn interact 😭😭

iamrebeccad My job here is done

↳ carlossainz55 😂😂😂

↳ yourinstagram never trust the sainz-donaldson couple…

↳ username1 WHATS GOING ON HERE

↳ username2 lord i’m so nosy i need to be part of their friendgroup

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

📍MONTE CARLO, MONACO

Living alone it's all fun and games until you get locked out of your house after a quick run to the store for some late night snacks.

You stood there, staring at your sophisticated security system installed in all the houses in your upscale Monaco neighborhood —one that was definitely too expensive for you, but you were grateful the company you worked for paid for your rent — feeling utterly defeated.

The high-tech lock had its advantages, but it also meant that once you were locked out, getting back in without a key was next to impossible.

Sighing, you pulled out your phone and texted Kika, hoping she might be able to help.

You frowned at the suggestion. Asking Charles for help wasn’t your first choice, especially given your rocky interactions in the past. And yes, maybe you had a great conversation in Barcelona but that didn't mean that he suddenly liked you and would be willing to help you.

What if he's busy? Or thinks you're stupid for locking yourself out of your own house? What if this is all part of the girl's plan of setting you up with a driver?

Were some thoughts that ran through your head as you stood in your porch. But with no other options, you pushed them away and sent him a message.

You sighed, feeling a mix of relief and nervousness. Asking Charles, someone who you disliked from time to time and thought he hated you just a few weeks ago for help wasn't on your bingo card, but there you were waiting for him to show up.

True to his word, Charles arrived shortly, wearing a casual outfit that made him look really comfy, and you prayed that you didn't disturb him too much with your antics.

"Locked out, huh?" he said with a grin.

"Yeah, stupid me forgot the keys inside," you replied, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"No worries, happens to the best of us," he said, pulling out a set of keys from his pocket. "I actually learned a trick for these locks. All the houses here have the same system, and I’ve had my fair share of lockouts."

You watched as he worked with the keys and the lock, not sure of what he was doing but trusting his word that he knew how to unlock it. After what it seemed like a minute, your door unlocked with ease.

"Thank you so much, Charles. You saved me," you said, letting out a sigh of relief, "And I'm really sorry that I bothered you, you must've been busy or just resting and I made you get out of the house."

"Hey, It's okay," he said, flashing you a warm smile, "Told you could shout if you needed a spare cup of milk, or in this case, a way into your house."

"Thank you a lot, really."

You smiled softly as you both stood on your porch, and he mirrored your gesture. You looked at his features for a moment, his eyes were soft and a beautiful shade of green and blue, he looked extremely cozy clad in his hoodie and joggers.

Ugh why are you even thinking about Charles Leclerc like that? The voice inside your head came out again. And you didn't have an answer for it, but you pushed the thought away and focused on the present moment.

"So, how's the unpacking going?" Charles said after a minute of silence.

"It's getting there. Still a lot to do," you shrugged.

"Well, if you need any help, just let me know," he offered. "I'm pretty handy with setting up furniture and stuff."

"I might take you up on that," you said, and you fell into silence again.

And that's when you realized that for some reason, you didn't want the interaction to end, and something about the way he looked at you made you feel like he didn't want it either.

"How about you come in for a cup of tea?" you suggested without even taking a spare second to think about it, "As a thank you for helping me out, I mean."

He looked pleasantly surprised. "I'd really like that. Thanks."

You led him inside, quickly tidying up a few stray boxes before boiling water for tea. Once it was ready, you both sat down with steaming cups of tea, and you started talking about the topic that was inevitable among the grid and friends: Pierre and Kika's upcoming wedding.

"Can you believe they're getting married?" you asked, stirring your tea.

"I know, right?" Charles replied with a chuckle. "Pierre's been so excited. He talks about it all the time."

"They're such a great couple," you said, smiling. "Kika has been my best friend for years. I couldn't be happier for her."

"Yeah, Pierre is like a brother to me," Charles added, his expression softening. "He deserves all the happiness in the world."

You took a sip of your tea, feeling the warmth spread through you, "They deserve each other."

"By the way," Charles said, setting down his cup, "have you thought about what you’re going to wear?"

"I’ve been stressing over it," you laughed, "I want to find something perfect, and I feel like I'm running out of time."

"I’m sure whatever you choose will be great," he said reassuringly. "You have good taste."

"Thanks," you said, feeling a bit flustered by the compliment. "What about you? Got your outfit ready?"

"Not at all," he replied with a grin. "You know, since you're the maid of honor and I'm the best man, we should coordinate our outfits," he suggested with a playful smile. "Imagine how great we'll look standing next to Pierre and Kika if we match."

You laughed at the idea. "Maybe we should. It would make for some great photos."

"I can already see it now," Charles chuckled, "The perfect duo."

The conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself genuinely enjoying Charles's company. He was funny, engaging, and far from the dismissive person you initially thought he was. You talked about everything from the wedding to your favorite places in Monaco, your work, his feelings about the F1 season so far and you couldn't help but think about how much the girls would freak out if they saw you talking and engaging the way you were.

Maybe they were right about you and Charles getting along well, but they're wrong about you possibly dating him, because you weren't looking for that, you thought to yourself again.

As the night drew to a close, Charles stood up to leave. "Thanks for the tea and the company, YN. I’m surprised we never got to talk like this before."

"Me too," you admitted, feeling a pang of guilt for your previous judgments about him. "I'm glad we did, though. And thank you again for helping me tonight, you were kind of my savior."

"Stop thanking me, you already did it like ten times," he said as you both walked to the door. "Are you going to the race in Austria this weekend?"

"I wasn’t planning on it," you said, "Kika's not going, and I usually go with her."

"Well, you could be my guest this time," he offered, a hopeful look in his eyes. "It could be fun."

You blinked, taken aback by his offer. "Are you serious?" you asked, needing to be sure you heard him right.

"Absolutely," Charles said, his tone sincere, "I know you're good friends with the girls and you love hanging out with them. It would be fun, and I'd love to have you there."

Your mind raced. When you left your house a few hours ago you never expected to get locked out which would lead to end your night with an invitation from Charles Leclerc to the Austrian Grand Prix, offering you a chance to spend time together at a race.

The wheels in your brain turned, making you unsure of your answer, when deep down you knew you wanted to take on his offer and go to Austria. You loved attending races and being around everyone in the F1 world, at first it was just something you did with Kika because of her boyfriend, but now it was something you enjoyed a lot.

Plus, you had to admit, the idea of spending more time with Charles was becoming increasingly appealing.

On the other hand, you couldn't shake the nagging doubt in the back of your mind. Was this just Charles being nice? Or what if the girls had put him up to this in another attempt to set you two up? You didn't want to complicate things somehow, especially with Pierre and Kika's wedding on the horizon.

Realizing you had been silent for a moment too long, you looked at Charles, your expression a mix of surprise and hesitation, and maybe you were crazy, but something in his face told you that he wanted you to say yes.

"That sounds amazing, Charles," you said, a small smile playing on your lips, "But… can I think about it? It sounds fun but I want to make sure I can make it work with my schedule."

"Of course," he replied with a nod, not pushing you for an immediate answer, "Just let me know soon so I can make the arrangements if you decide to come. I'd really like to have you there."

"Thanks, Charles," you said, feeling a warmth in your chest at his genuine interest. "I'll let you know soon."

"Great," he said, giving you a smile that made your heart flutter a little. "Goodnight, YN."

"Goodnight, Charles," you replied, watching as he walked away.

As you closed the door, you had one thought running through your head: the bridesmaids groupchat is about to go crazy

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

the bridesmaids 👯‍♀️ groupchat

charles and yn texts

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

📍SPIELBERG, AUSTRIA

The Austrian GP weekend had been eventful so far to say the least. When you arrived on friday, you expected to catch an Uber to your hotel, or for someone sent by Charles to pick you up.

But turns out, Charles himself was standing there as you walked through the gates, waiting for you with a warm smile.

None of the girls ended up attending the GP, so you spent most of your time with Charles. It felt strange at first, since you had never spent much time interacting with him before, but you'd be lying if you said that you didn't enjoy it.

Despite the friendly atmosphere off the track, it was a tough weekend for Charles competitively. His car had plenty of complications, from engine issues to problematic tires, which led him to a bad result on Sunday.

With that excuse, you suggested buying him dinner. You thought it would be a good way to cheer him up and to thank him for the weekend. It was friendly and casual.

You decided to have room service in his hotel room, neither of you in the mood to go outside, so you ordered a couple of pizzas, a bottle of wine and desert.

As the room service cart rolled in, you both laughed at how much food you had ordered. "I think our eyes were bigger than our stomachs," Charles said, eyeing the spread.

"Well, we have all night to work through it," you replied with a grin.

You both settled on the couch, the boxes of pizza open in front of you and glasses of wine in hand. If someone had told you a few months ago that you would be in this context with Charles Leclerc you'd laughed at them.

You knew the girls would have a field day when they found out.

"I'm really glad you came this weekend," Charles said after chewing on his slice of pizza, "It's been nice having you around."

"I'm glad I came too," you said, smiling back. "I didn't realize how much fun it would be. I always come to the races with Kika so this was different. Thank you again for asking me."

"I have to admit, I was a bit nervous about asking you," Charles took a sip of his wine, "I wasn't sure if you'd want to spend time with me."

You almost tensed at his words. All this time, you had assumed he disliked you because he had been rude or dismissive in your past interactions. But maybe it had all been a misunderstanding, like Kika had told you multiple times.

Damn you hated when she was right.

"Why wouldn't I?" you partially knew the answer, but you still wanted to hear what he had to say.

"I don't know. I guess I always thought you didn't like me much," he shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed.

"I thought the same thing about you," you laughed softly, "I figured you were being rude because you didn't like me."

"I never meant to be rude to you, at least not intentionally," Charles shook his head, "I'm really sorry if I ever was."

You looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. "It's okay, Charles. I guess we both just misunderstood each other."

"I'm glad we cleared that up," Charles gave a relieved smile, "It feels good to finally talk about it. Honestly, with the wedding coming up and the roles we're playing in it, I was nervous about the entire thing being awkward."

"We're good now," you said, feeling a genuine warmth spread through you. "And now I can join you in suit shopping without it being awkward."

Charles laughed, a sound that was starting to become one of your favorites. "Oh yeah, we still have to do that. We're definitely matching."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

INSTAGTAM

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.gomes and 102,268 others

yourinstagram lots of red and lots of room service ❤️

tagged: charles_leclerc

view all 4,026 comments

username1 SLAYYYY

username2 CHARLES AND YN???

lilymhe The one time we all decide to skip the GP… ♥︎ by francisca.cgomes, carmenmmundt

↳ lilyzneimer literally

↳ iamrebeccad 😭

↳ username1 WHAT ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT LET ME INNNNNNNNNN

pierregasly I guess you don’t need me for paddock passes anymore ♥︎ by author

↳ yourinstagram i’ve never needed you that was always kika

username3 wait are her and charles together ??

↳ username4 they could be friends chill

username5 yn finally becoming a wag??? the masterplan worked ♥︎ by iamrebeccad, lilyzneimer, francisca.cgomes, lilymhe

↳ username1 ALL OF THE WAGS HERE AGAIN 😭

charles_leclerc Always a pleasure 🤍 ♥︎ by author

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

gasly - gomes wedding 💍💍 groupchat

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

📍MONTE CARLO, MONACO

"Charles you literally just passed me."

"Did I? Oh, I see you now," Charles said as he spotted you walking towards his car, hanging up the phone and parking so you could get in.

You got into the passenger seat, clicking your seat belt and dropping your hands to your lap, "Hello there."

"Hi love," Charles leaned in to peck your cheek, "How was work?"

This was routine by now. After your time alone in Austria, you and Charles couldn't stop hanging out. He picked you up from work, you cooked dinner for both of you, you had sitcom marathons together and so on.

It felt nice.

"It was meh," you shrugged, "My day is about to get interesting, though, isn't it?"

"If you find looking at ties and shirts for hours any amusing, then yes it is."

Today was the day you and Charles had been talking about for so long, you'd get his outfit for the Gasly-Gomes wedding.

You got your dress already, it was a beautiful satin green dress you absolutely loved. Since Charles was away racing when you bought it, you showed it to him through FaceTime and he insisted he needed to get the perfect suit to match it.

"It's going to be fun," you poked his side as he drove, "But we do need to find the perfect fit, Kika is going to kill us if we ruin her pictures."

"I mean you're going to look stunning so I just need to stand next to you and hope it rubs on me," he shrugged, and you felt your cheeks burn.

Charles made a habit out of complimenting you at this point, and even though you didn't want to think too much about it, you found yourself melting every single time.

"Feeding my ego again, Leclerc?" you teased.

"Just stating the obvious."

You engaged in small conversation as he drove to the boutique you've previously picked as your first option. One of the things about your unexpected friendship with Charles that you loved the most was how easy it is to talk to him about anything. It was easy, comfortable, and it made you realize just how much you enjoyed his company.

When you arrived at the boutique, Charles opened the door for you, a small gesture that always made you smile.

Inside, the boutique was filled with racks of elegant suits and dresses. A sales assistant approached you, and you explained what you were looking for. She guided you to a section with suits that could match what you needed.

Charles began browsing through the racks, holding up different jackets and shirts for you to see. After some deliberation, Charles found a suit that caught his eye.

"Try it on," you urged him, eyes sparkling with excitement.

Charles disappeared into the fitting room, and you waited eagerly. When he emerged, your breath caught in your throat. The suit fit him perfectly, making him look even more handsome than usual.

Since when were you this down for this man?

"What do you think?" he asked, turning to look at himself in the mirror.

"It's perfect," you said, "You look amazing, Charles."

He grinned, clearly pleased with your approval, "You think I look amazing, huh?"

"Don't let it go to your head, Leclerc," you replied, rolling your eyes but unable to hide your smile.

With the suit sorted, you moved on to finding the perfect tie. After a bit of searching, you found one that matched your dress perfectly. You held it up for Charles to see, and he nodded in approval.

"Looks great. Now, help me put it on?" he asked, a hint of playfulness in his eyes.

"Sure," you said, stepping closer to him.

As you worked on his tie, you realized just how close you were standing. Your hands moved deftly, but your heart raced with the proximity. You could feel Charles's breath on your face, and you couldn't help but glance at his lips every now and then. His eyes were fixed on you, a soft intensity in them that made your knees feel weak.

"There," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, "all done."

But neither of you moved. Your faces were inches apart, and the air between you seemed to crackle with electricity. You noticed Charles glancing at your lips, and you wondered if he could hear your heart pounding in your chest.

"Shame on Kika and Pierre," Charles said softly, a smile tugging at his lips. "We'll definitely be the best-looking pair at the wedding."

You laughed lightly, the tension easing just a bit. "Absolutely. They'll have to step up their game."

Charles's hand came up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was so tender it made your heart flutter even more. "Thanks for helping me with this," he said, his voice sincere.

"Anytime," you replied, your voice equally soft.

You lingered a moment longer. It was just you and Charles, standing so close, sharing a moment that felt incredibly intimate. Eventually, you both stepped back, a silent understanding passing between you.

You really wanted him to kiss you

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INSTAGRAM

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yourinstagram two weeks away from the gasly-gomes wedding: the happy couple, suit picking, speech writing and last girls trip as single ladies 🥲

tagged: fracisca.cgomes, pierregasly, charles_leclerc, lilymhe, lilyzneimer, carmenmmundt

view all 4,103 comments

username1 THE WEDDING IS SO SOOOOON

username2 BOYFRIEND CHARLES CONTENT JUST DROPPED

↳ username1 omfg are they together ???

iamrebeccad 🤍🤍🤍🤍

lilymhe “last girls trip as single ladies” and you’re the only one who’s actually single (not for long tho) ♥︎ by francisca.cgomes, lilyzneimer, carmenmmundt, iamrebeccad

↳ username1 LILY😭

↳ yourinstagram 🙄🙄🙄🙄

username3 we love the honorary wag

username4 charles in a suit i’m going insane

landonorris Can’t wait for the most alcoholic weekend of the year ♥︎ by danielricciardo, carlossainz55, lancestroll

↳ pierregasly I’m terrified already

charles_leclerc Best man and maid of honor, match made in heaven ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 CHARLESSSSS

↳ francisca.cgomes you’re welcome

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the bridesmaids 👯‍♀️ groupchat

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📍PORTOFINO, ITALY

The most awaited weekend of the year was finally here, the Gasly-Gomes wedding bound was in full swing. Guests arrived to Portofino from all over, their excitement palpable as they gathered to celebrate the love between Pierre and Kika.

Despite Charles' attempts to convince you to fly with him, you were firm on your decision of flying with Kika, you knew how nervous she felt and you wanted to be by your best friend's side for the most important moment of her life.

However, you were attending the rehearsal dinner together. Which had caused a commotion with the girls earlier in the week.

Their so called plan of getting me a boyfriend from the grid won't work, you thought to yourself, I'm not even looking for a boyfriend, Charles is my friend.

The rehearsal dinner was set in a beautiful, intimate restaurant overlooking the sea, and you were waiting for Charles at the hotel's reception to leave together. You smoothed out your dress, glancing at the grand clock on the wall, you felt a bit nervous, which only made you think about Kika and the fact that she was probably a million times more anxious.

"Hey there," Charles's voice broke through your thoughts. You turned to see him approaching, looking effortlessly handsome in a tailored suit, "Mon Dieu, you look insanely gorgeous."

You felt your cheeks warm at his words. "Thank you, Charles. You clean up pretty well yourself."

He grinned, offering his arm. "Shall we?"

You linked your arm with his, and together you made your way to the car waiting outside. The drive to the restaurant was filled with light conversation and laughter. Charles had a way of making you feel at ease, and tonight was no different.

As you arrived at the venue, the soft glow of candles and string lights illuminated the setup. Tables were adorned with flowers, and the sound of the waves provided a soothing backdrop. You could see Pierre and Kika at the entrance, greeting guests with radiant smiles.

You were really happy for them.

"Let's go say hi," Charles suggested, leading you towards the happy couple.

"You both look amazing!" Kika exclaimed once you approached them, hugging you tightly. "Thank you for being here."

Pierre soon joined, greeting both you and Charles with a warm smile. "Thanks for keeping her sane on the flight here," he joked, giving Kika a playful nudge.

"It's the least I can do, you already stole her from me ," you said with a grin.

"I promise to share her from time to time." Pierre joked, making all of you laugh.

The four of you exchanged a few more words before making your way into the venue. The atmosphere inside was magical, the soft hum of conversation and laughter filled the air.

You really could feel the love and excitement radiating from everyone present.

You made your way towards the table, noticing Lando by the bar already. You couldn't help but giggle, he was dead serious about going all out with the alcohol this weekend.

You settled into your seats, Charles opening your chair for you before sitting down. You were at a big table where most drivers and their partners were already settled, Carmen and George next to you and Max and Kelly on Charles' side.

Damn, you were really the honorary WAG

"What?" you said, noticing Carmen's teasing smile as she glanced at you and Charles.

"Oh nothing," she shrugged, "You guys look really cute together."

You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. "Thanks, Carmen," you replied, trying to brush off her comment. "We're here as friends."

"Sure, sure," Carmen said with a wink, and you couldn't help but chuckle at her persistence.

The evening flowed smoothly, the conversations lively and the laughter contagious. As you sipped on your champagne, you couldn't help but steal glances at Charles. He seemed so at ease, laughing and joking with the others, his eyes occasionally meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart flutter.

Dinner was served, a spread of Italian cuisine that had everyone praising the chefs. You and Charles shared bites of each other's dishes, a habit that had become second nature.

After dinner, it was time for the speeches. Since you were best man and maid of honor, you came up with the idea of surprising Kika and Pierre with heartfelt messages, which lead you to nights of takeout at his place to help each other write your speeches.

Charles was the first to stand, his presence commanding attention as he held up his glass.

"Bonsoir, everyone," he began, his voice clear and confident, "For those of you who don't know me, I'm Charles,"

"No one knows you! You're not world champion," Max yelled from his place, making everyone laugh.

"Somebody's jealous because he's not best man, I see," Charles teased, causing laughter again, "Anyway, I have known Pierre for many years now, and I can honestly say he is one of the best friends I could ever ask for. And Kika, you have brought out the best in him. Your love story is truly inspiring, and I am so honored to stand here today as your best man."

His words were heartfelt and genuine, and you could see Pierre and Kika's eyes shining with emotion. Charles continued with anecdotes about him and Pierre's karting days and well-wishes, his speech met with applause and cheers by the end.

It was your turn now, you were nervous but Charles sent a wink your way as he passed you the microphone that made you relax.

"Kika and I have been best friends for as long as I can remember," you began, your voice steady. "We have shared so many incredible moments together, and seeing her find someone who makes her so happy is truly a blessing. Pierre, you have brought so much joy into her life, and I am beyond thrilled to see you both start this new chapter together."

Your speech was filled with love and appreciation, and by the time you finished, there were a few more teary eyes around the room. Kika hugged you tightly, whispering her thanks in your ear.

After the speeches, the lights dimmed, and music began to play. Everyone gathered around the dance floor, and Charles turned to you with a mischievous smile. "Care to dance?"

"Sure," you replied, taking his hand as he led you to the center of the dance floor. The music was slow, and Charles pulled you close, his hand resting on the small of your back.

You danced together, your bodies moving in sync. You felt his breath on your cheek, and the warmth of his touch sent shivers down your spine. You looked up at him, your faces inches apart, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world disappeared.

From across the room, Lily and Rebecca watched with satisfied smiles. Alex joined them, raising an eyebrow. "So, you think your plan worked?" he asked, amusement in his voice.

"Definitely," Lily said, her eyes twinkling. "Look at them. They're practically made for each other."

Rebecca nodded in agreement. "We've been planning this for months, and it looks like it's finally happening."

"Well, I have to admit, you girls make a pretty good matchmaking team," Alex chuckled, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend.

"We just knew they needed a little push," Lily grinned, "And now, look at them. They can't take their eyes off each other."

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TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

liked by iamrebeccad, charles_leclerc and 254,378 others

yourinstagram MY BEST FRIEND JUST GOT MARRIED 🥲🥲🥲 brb i’ll be dancing and weeping all night

tagged: pierregasly, francisca.cgomes

view all 5,106 comments

username1 OMFG KIKA LOOKS STUNNING

username2 AHHHH THIS CONTENT

lilymhe same over here 😩😩 ♥︎ by author

username3 god i’d give up my first born yo be at that wedding right now

yukitsunoda0511 yukierre is for life ♥︎ by author

↳ yourinstagram so is kikayn

↳ username1 I LOVE THEM 😭😭

↳ username2 ooohhh yuki and yn should get together so she’s finally an official wag

↳ username3 NOOO WE NEED CHARLESYN

francisca.cgomes I LOVE YOU JUST GRABBED MY PHONE TO COMMENT ON THIS ❤️❤️ now back to my wedding lol ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 she’s too iconic

liked by username1, username2 and 25,926 others

f1gossip Charles Leclerc getting cozy with one of the bridesmaids at the Gasly-Gomes wedding 😳

view all 2,004 comments

username1 OMFG

username2 LOOORD

username3 ISNT THAT YN 😭😭

↳ username1 YEAH

username4 oh god lando really exposed them, someone take his phone from him

username5 WHAT DOES THIS MEANNNN

username6 oh to be at that wedding right now

username7 YN HONORARY WAG IS NO MORE ITS TIME FOR YN REAL WAG ERA

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📍PORTOFINO, ITALY

Kika Gomes and Pierre Gasly were finally married.

The ceremony was held at a charming seaside chapel, adorned with white flowers and delicate ribbons. Guests filled the pews, their faces reflecting the joy and love of the occasion.

You stood beside Kika as her maid of honor, heart swelling with pride and happiness as she exchanged vows with Pierre. Charles, standing beside Pierre as the best man, caught your eye several times, his gaze warm and reassuring. The ceremony was beautiful, filled with heartfelt words, laughter, and a few tears of joy.

Charles made sure to compliment you from the moment he first saw you, and everyone was gushing over the two of you being color coordinated, just like you thought they would be.

After the vows were exchanged and the couple was pronounced husband and wife, it was time for the reception, or as Lando Norris would like to call it, the time to get absolutely wasted.

The party was held at a stunning villa overlooking the sea. The evening was filled with delicious food, heartfelt toasts, and lively dancing.

Just like the rehearsal dinner two days earlier, you and Charles were together all the time. Sitting beside each other at the table, Charles grabbing the train of your dress for you when you needed it, keeping at least a hand on each other all the time. You knew that wasn't "we're just friends" behavior, but you were too happy to mind.

As the night progressed, the drinks kept flowing, and everyone was in high spirits. Lando, true to his word, was leading the charge in getting everyone to the dance floor. You and Charles danced together, his hands on your shoulders as you swayed to the music, his breath on your neck as he whispered to your ear.

You knew some prying eyes were on both of you — and by that, you mean Rebecca, Lily and their respective boyfriends—, but once again, you were too happy and tipsy to mind.

After hours of dancing and celebrating, you finally took a break and sat down with your friends at one of the tables near the dance floor.

“You two were adorable on the dance floor,” Lily teased, giving you a playful nudge.

“Oh, stop,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm. “We’re just having fun.”

“Yeah, right. Just friends, huh?” Rebecca smirked.

Before you could respond, Charles appeared at the edge of the table, looking as handsome as ever, his suit jacket long forgotten and a few buttons of his shirt undone.

You were really down bad for him.

“Mind if I steal YN for a bit?” he asked, his eyes twinkling from the alcohol.

"Let the girl breathe mate! She's probably tired of you," Carlos teased, earning a round of laughter from the table.

You rolled your eyes playfully. "I think I can manage a bit more of Charles," you said, standing up and taking his offered hand.

"Of course you can," Rebecca said with a smirk. "Go meet your boyfriend."

You rolled your eyes again, but couldn’t suppress the smile spreading across your face. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you protested weakly, standing up from the table.

“Not yet, anyway.” Lily laughed.

You ignored her comment, though your heart did skip a beat. You don't know if Charles had heard any of it, but you let him lead you out to the terrace, your hand wrapped around his. From the corner of you eye, you saw Kika looking at you, nudging her husband and pointing at you both, teasing smiles on their faces.

They just got married so you'll let it slide.

“Nice to get a break from all the noise,” you said once you reached the terrace, leaning against the railing and looking out at the sea.

“Definitely,” Charles agreed, standing close beside you. “It’s been a perfect night, though.”

"I know," you smiled softly, "I'm so happy for Kika and Pierre, they deserve this so much."

"They really do. It's been a beautiful day," Charles nodded, his eyes fixed on you, "Just as beautiful as you."

He stepped closer, wrapping a hand around your waist, pulling you gently against him. Your heart raced at his touch, and you couldn't help but glance at his lips, wondering what it would feel like to kiss him. You'd thought about it more times than you'd like to admit, and the way he glanced at yours told you he did too.

“Charles,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, “what are you trying to do?”

He smiled, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’m trying to charm the pretty bridesmaid,” he replied softly, his thumb tracing small circles on your waist.

You laughed, feeling a flutter in your stomach. “And how’s that working out for you?”

“Let’s find out,” he said, leaning in slowly.

He closed the distance between you, capturing his lips with yours. The kiss was everything you’d imagined and more, slow and sweet, filled with a longing that had been building for months. His hands slid up to cup your face, deepening the kiss, and you melted into him, losing yourself in the moment.

When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.

“Definitely working,” you whispered, making him chuckle.

He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes full of affection. “Good to know,” he said, his voice low and full of warmth.

You spent a few more moments on the terrace, talking and laughing, sharing more kisses and wrapped around each other.

You were not sure what this meant for your friendship, but you were too happy to care. The night felt magical, like a dream you never wanted to end. It was a night of new beginnings, not just for Kika and Pierre, but maybe for you as well.

As you both made your way back inside, hand in hand, you noticed a few knowing smiles and exchanged glances among your friends. Kika and Pierre were still on the dance floor, looking blissfully happy, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of joy for them.

“Look who’s back!” Lando called out, a wide grin on his face.

“What’s going on?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at their suspicious behavior.

Kika abruptly approached the group, dragging Pierre by the hand a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “Everybody pay up,” she said, holding out her hand.

Charles and you exchanged confused looks. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

“We had a bet going,” Kika explained, clearly enjoying this. “We bet that we could get you two together before the wedding. And technically, we did.”

“Damn, I didn't think you girls would actually make it happen,” George handed over some money with a laugh.

“Wait, you all really bet on us? The infamous masterplan was actually a real thing?” you asked, still processing the revelation.

“Of course it was,” Rebecca said with a grin. “It was obvious to everyone except you two.”

"I can't believe you guys," you said, shaking your head but unable to suppress a smile, covering your face with your hands, Charles pecked your temple gently.

"To be fair, the girls started it, we just joined in later," Oscar said, trying to deflect the blame.

“I can’t believe it took a wedding and a bet to get us here," Charles chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, "I guess we owe you all a thank you,"

"No need to thank us. Just be happy," Carmen sent a wink your way, making you smile.

"Alrighty, a toast now," Lando said, climbing on top of a chair. Everyone knew he was too drunk to be stopped so you just let him, "To Kika and Pierre the happiest and most beautiful couple in the world!"

"Hear, hear!" echoed through the crowd as glasses clinked together, laughter and cheers filling the air.

"And to YN finally becoming an official WAG!" Kika chimed in, her eyes twinkling with mischief, making the girls cheer.

"Official, huh?" Charles murmured, leaning in closer.

"We'll talk about that later, Leclerc," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

The rest of the night was a whirlwind of dancing, laughter, champagne and celebration. Charles never left your side as you enjoyed with your friends.

As the party continued, you found yourselves on the dance floor once more, swaying to a slow song. Charles held you close, his arms wrapped securely around you. "So, how does it feel to be an official WAG?" he asked, his breath warm against your ear.

"As far as I'm concerned, you haven't asked anything, mister," you teased raising your eyebrows.

"Well then, consider this me asking," he murmured, his voice playful yet sincere.

"In that case," you began, teasing him further, "I suppose it feels pretty good."

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Good to hear," he replied softly, brushing his lips against your temple.

Being an official wag was amazing

read some extra scenes here !