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er-osion · 2 days ago

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Cruel Summer

pairing: Kaz Brekker x gn!Reader

summary: A fic based on the song Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift. Reader is a Crow and has unfortunately fallen for their boss in the summer heat spell.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: none, fluff

you can see the full taylor swift song-fic masterlist here

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You always seem to forget how unbearably hot Ketterdam can get in the summer, especially during a heat wave. Your skin is sweltering and sticking uncomfortably to your clothes. The summer sun is bright and accosting, hanging high above your head in the clear blue sky. You greatly missed the typical overcast weather and fog. The Crow Club was just a few blocks away, all you had to do was hold on until you got there, and then you could collapse at the bar and scarf down an icy drink. The mere idea of a cool beverage put a weary smile on your face and added a pep to your step.

The Club was rather full for a weekday afternoon. However, it made sense that people would be wanting to beat the heat here. Entertainment, food, drinks, and a relatively cool space, you didn’t blame the ‘pigeons’ one bit. Even though you knew he hated the heat, Kaz was always happy to see the boom in business during heat waves like this. You shook your head defiantly. This has been happening lately. Kaz, your boss, had been popping up in your head as of late, and at the most unnecessary times. Suddenly you’d become concerned with his likes, dislikes, moods, health, and so on and it was bugging you as all get-out.

It’s not that you didn’t like Kaz, quite the opposite, you liked and respected him a lot. He is, dare you say, a friend. But you didn’t think about your other friends as often as you did your cane-wielding boss, and that is the issue. You know he’s not a good guy. Though, how could anyone be a good person in this city? He’s bad. He’s honestly nearly a bad friend too. But this knowledge of the obvious has done nothing to discourage your traitorous brain from drawing up images of the man at times when you should certainly be focused on something else.

You arrived at the Club and saw Jesper sitting at the bar clearly waiting for a drink from the bartender. A half smile crept onto your face and you snuck up behind him.

“Hey, Jes.” You said calmly from your sudden place right beside him.

Jesper jumped, “Holy shit, you have got to stop doing that.” Your gunslinging best friend put his hand over his heart, taking deep breaths dramatically as he settled back into his seat.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” You shrugged, feigning innocence. “How’s it going today?”

“I think I might just melt.”

“You wouldn’t be the first.” You nodded your head in solemn agreement and ordered a drink. You took a moment to look around the club. You were searching for someone in particular but decided to pretend you were just surveying the floor. “Have you seen Brekker at all?” You questioned without even thinking and as the words left your mouth you wanted to smack yourself.

Jesper’s lips slipped into a teasing smirk as he lay his head in his hands. “I saw him earlier. He was watching the club for a bit and then went up to his office. Why? Is there some job you need to discuss with him? Or are you just looking for some unpleasant company?” Jesper’s tone was goading as he watched your face closely for a reaction.

Your brows furrowed in annoyance and you rolled your eyes. “I was only wondering because I’m not used to not hearing his nags. Usually he’d have griped about something one of us did or didn’t do right and I’m just now realizing how strange it is to not have heard that already.”

Jesper hummed, and you couldn’t tell if he was convinced or not. “Well if you’re looking to sour your already lovely mood, I’m sure you can find him in his office.”

You scoffed and motioned to the bartender for another drink, but not for you this time. “I think I’ve had my fill of Jesper Fahey for the day. I’ll go make sure the boss man hasn’t melted into a puddle with his layered wardrobe.” You got up from your stool and elected to ignore the teasing comment the gunslinger threw your way as you shuffled through the crowd and toward Kaz’s office.

You knocked on the wooden door and waited a few seconds before cracking the door slowly and entering. You were going to say something as you entered the room but the words died on your tongue when you caught sight of your boss.

Kaz was sitting at his large desk, a gift you and the other Crows had all pitched in to get him two years prior. His eyes were focused intently on the stack of papers in front of him, and you noticed how his styled hair threatened to fall apart and into his face. His jacket was hanging on the back of his leather chair. The top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned and the sleeves of the black shirt had been rolled up past his forearms. The sunlight was streaming in through the two windows in the room, illuminating all the dust floaties that typically annoy you but at the moment seemed magical. All in all, your brain short circuited.

You stood there for several seconds, unmoving, simply staring watching Kaz in all his glory.

“Did you need something?” Kaz’s gruff voice broke you out of your stupor.

“Just came to give you this, really.” You explained carefully, walking toward him slowly and setting his drink down on the edge of the wooden desk. Kaz eyed the drink suspiciously with a raised eyebrow. “It wouldn’t exactly be good for my paycheck if you died of heat stroke.” You supplemented.

“How heroic of you.” Kaz scoffed, unimpressed and put his attention back on the papers in front of him. You rolled your eyes and looked around the room.

You grabbed one of the chairs in front of your boss’s desk and dragged it quietly to the window. He hadn’t told you to get lost, and for some reason, there wasn’t anywhere you’d rather be than Kaz’s stuffy office, right now. You sat down and pulled a book from your bag. You took one last cautious glance at Brekker before settling down into your chair and picking up your book from where you’d left off.

You spent the next several hours like this. You wouldn’t have even noticed any time had passed were it not for the movement of your light source –the sun. Somehow, this moment felt so clandestine. There was something so unnervingly domestic in the hours you’d just spent together. So unnerving that it felt as if the whole thing was some deep secret the two of you must take to your graves in order to keep your peace. You gently closed your book, as it had become a strain on your eyes to read in the dim lighting. You looked up at Kaz and saw he was getting out of his chair. Brekker unrolled his sleeves and you found yourself missing the delicious sight of his veiny forearms. Control yourself, you begged internally. Kaz slid on his jacket and purposefully put all his papers away. Then he turned to you and gave you an expectant look that had your heart hammering in your chest.

“Time to go, then?” You asked rhetorically, getting up as well and re-shouldering your bag.

In truth, Kaz had originally planned on working in his office at the club for a few more hours. In fact, he had also been planning on doing another round of surveying the floor a couple of hours ago, but had not done so. At the time, he didn’t want to leave your company and now, didn’t want you hurting your eyes trying to keep him company. Kaz picked up the empty glass on his desk to drop off at the bar on your way out. It had been his favorite summer drink. When did you figure that out? Did you even know? Either way, Dirtyhands had enjoyed the beverage far more than he should have.

You and Kaz walked together down the cobblestone road from the Club to the Slat. A comfortable silence hung between the two of you. Night had fallen so the street lights provided the only cheap illumination of the uneven pathway ahead. The temperature was still hotter than you’d ever prefer, but there was a constant cool breeze that kept you from staggering under the hot heavy air. Kaz’s cane clicked rhythmically against the ground as the two of you meandered toward the Slat.

You risked a glance at the boy beside you and felt your breath catch. It wasn’t fair. How could someone look so pretty just existing? Everyone would surely laugh you out of Kerch if they heard you thought the infamous Dirtyhands was pretty. But it’s true, in the weirdest of ways, Kaz Brekker is very pretty.

“Is there something on my face?” Kaz probed suddenly.

“Huh?” You blinked in surprise at the unanticipated interruption of the fragile silence.

“I said; Is there something on my face? You’re staring.”

You felt your face heat up in embarrassment at getting caught ogling. “Yes, I was trying to figure out what it was. It’s right here.” You lied with confidence, pointing to a random spot along your chin to show where you’d found the invisible spot on his face.

Kaz’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion and offense, but brushed his chin anyway.

“There you go.” You reassured him with a lilt.

“That book you were reading earlier…” Kaz paused, for the first time in a long time seemingly unsure about his next words, “is it good?” His voice grew quieter at the end and your lips pulled into an excited grin.

You instantly began an enthusiastic ramble about your latest book. Describing in detail the plot and your favorite and least favorite characters with rapid hand motions. Kaz originally only watched you through short glances, but quickly he took to rapt attention. You had enthralled him. The Bastard of the Barrel gazed with uncharacteristic interest as you went off about the book, mentally taking notes about all the things you spoke about with increased passion. He decided right then and there that his first errand tomorrow would be to the bookstore. He was overcome with the unusual desire to engage you in an equally eager discussion about this book he’d previously never heard of.

Kaz drank in your form and felt his heart thundering in his chest. He was growing warmer, and he subconsciously knew the weather was not to blame. Against the dark backdrop of the night and draped in the honey-color lamp light Kaz Brekker was sure you were an angel. Rolling your eyes at the stupid decisions a character you were describing had made, Kaz felt his heart roll with you.

Kaz kept you engaged by asking further questions about the book, specific enough to tell you he’d been listening attentively. Your heart soared at this demonstration and your grin widened impossibly. Words could not describe the joy this boy was giving you in this moment.

And all of the sudden, like a rock slide, your minds hit both of you with possibly the scariest and worst realization.

I love you.

The words were heavy on your tongues, too heavy to convey. Those three life changing words were not uttered, but the mutual realization was rocking. And as if your minds were truly connected, the both of you immediately blamed the dreaded summer for this unexpected awareness of your own feelings. It was this cruel summer to blame, obviously. The characteristic heat and the light of summer that was so unusual for Ketterdam that it made it easier to romanticize things. It tricked you. Lightening the quintessential gloomy mood of the Barrel and erupting feelings not fit for the reality of this city.

But at the same time, maybe it wasn’t so bad. You were putting the pieces together and finally understood the real reason behind your recently pleasant mood. Falling in love with Kaz Brekker, the Bastard of the Barrel, may not be the smartest decision, but it was a decision that evoked the most wonderful feelings. Your skin was itching and butterflies danced in your stomach but you had no desire to get rid of them. You embraced them, because they were proof of your love for the young man beside you.

Kaz now understood why so many great novels were centered around love. Dirtyhands was slowly coming to the conclusion that his recent special interest in you was not without reason. And yes, it was terrifying. Yes, it was perturbing. But if this feeling is love –and he was unfortunately sure that’s what this is– then he can’t imagine trying to get rid of it. Kaz Brekker can no longer picture a life where he does not love you, and this picture is becoming less and less frightening by the minute.

You’re washed with elation when you notice the barest ghost of a smile gracing Kaz’s carved features. How can a man not be happy in your presence?

Summer can be awful. It can be uncomfortable. It can be agonizing. But it can also be a gift. Or rather, in the Barrel, it can come bearing gifts. Like the gift of loving someone who’s been by your side for many summers prior, and hopefully will be for many summers more.

#kaz brekker x reader #x reader #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x you #grishaverse #x you #six of crows #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker fic #grishaverse x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker fluff #song fic #taylor swift song fic #kaz brekker song fic

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mydairpercabeth · 5 months ago

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like stop banging you boss for five seconds and DO YOUR JOB CRISPIN

#IF YOU WERE DOING YOUR JOB NONE OF THIS WOULD HAVE HAPPENED #i cant take it #might delete later #i just dont like team green i think #roll my eyes every time i see them #hotd #house of the dragon #alicent hightower #alicent targaryen #crispin cole #i forget thats not his real name #ser criston cole #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #lucerys targaryen #jahaerys targaryen #lucerys velaryon

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autopsytableromance · 1 year ago

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hey why did my manager unprompted tell me and like 3 other coworkers a story about how he had his dog terrorize her girlfriend for three hours while he took a nap and she hid in the car afraid like it was a funny story to tell.

#i said i would never run after a guest. i dont run and he said i could make you run. i have a rottweiler.#and then launched into this story.#also once we were alone he stated talking about how he used to be a personal trainer and how once girls lost weight they had way too much #confidence and would tell men to leave them alone which he made sound like a crime of the highest order. and asked me again if i was a mom.#which would be like whatever if he hadnt mentioned multiple times how many times he had made specifically moms obsessed with him.#like to the point it was concerning to their mental state. and he just openly admitted this to me as if it were a funny thing that happens #to everyone.#i hate having to work with him when its just the two of us. unfortunately he makes the schedule so i cant even be like hey can we avoid tha #none of this on its own is really that deep its just all of it together... i get such a weird vibe from this guy.#and he keeps trying to set up outside of work events and im just like. i dont know how to tell you that i would rather kms.#like he wants us to fucking roadtrip to san antonio which is like. fucking 7 hours or something? i cant stand a fucking 6 hour shift #and youre not even there for half of that! i would end up trying to physically fight the guy if we were stuck in a car for that long #he is literally my only problem with this job at this point. like customers piss me off sometimes but theyll do that anywhere #he just. makes me deeply uncomfortable anytime were alone #prsnl

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silverislander · 1 year ago

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i've been thinking a lot recently abt how different my current job is to my first job and how much more i like it and why, and it really just comes down to like. basic humanity. at the hardware store, it was a really intense "time to lean time to clean" mentality, we weren't allowed to chat with the other cashiers even during slow days, we couldn't get caught reading/drawing/goofing off while on cash, we weren't even allowed to leave the corral. at the supermarket, we're expected to take our time w the customers and talk to them. the managers and other departments come out when they're bored to come chat w us! i read the local paper during slow hours and draw in between customers, and its great! everyone is also just really nice and friendly which is fantastic, i can't name one person over there i don't get along with

and i happened to remember the first meeting i had to go to for the hardware store lmfao. i showed up in uniform bc there was no indication that it was a meeting instead of a regular shift, we were basically told to go stock the shelves/face items for an hour (? still not sure why. they did this to all of us and it did Not need to be done) and while we were paid for that time i was NOT trained for it, so when customers came up and asked like "hey wheres the plumbing section" i had to go "um. i don't know :) let's go find someone else" and had no way to deal with it when they inevitably got really fucking mad w me for not being able to help them

and then when the meeting finally actually started, it opened w the manager going "ok i heard some of you had some things you wanted to discuss!" and a couple of the other cashiers reading off a list of issues they wanted to address. none of which were actually addressed. it was shit like "when you guys come down to customer service and immediately disregard the policies we've just explained, it makes us look like the bad guys and gets us treated very poorly by future customers" "ok well are we supposed do about that :)"/"you need to give us our breaks on time. if managers have to be in charge of telling us when we're allowed to go on break, they need to make sure they're not hours late when doing that" "well we're really busy so sometimes we forget but i guess we'll try :)"

... yeah. if i had been a little bit smarter at the time, i would have realized 2wks in that this was a baby union, we were being exploited and i was abt to have the shittiest fucking summer lmao

#this is a bit of a long pointless post but i was thinkin abt it the other day and just laughing #like... dude. how did i not see that as an insane red flag #those are all issues that continued throughout the summer btw :) none of it ever got fixed we were all miserable #they also had a rule that if you saw someone stealing you were supposed to CHASE THEM and i mentally checked out of that job right there #i am not going to put myself in danger over a fucking power drill or a garden light. bye #like. if someone is stealing they can just fucking have it. i hate it here anyway idc if i get fired for it #levi.txt #like seriously i am So much happier at the grocery store. this is worlds better #theyre both minimum wage theyre basically the same job (cashier) but its not even comparable #i feel like a person. i dont dread going into work. i feel like if anything happened the other employees would have my back #and so would the managers!#we have a fucking code name to say over the pa in case someone is sexually harassing you! manager AND security will show up!!#and you can LEAVE THE CASH to go calm down and take a breather when that happens!!#at the hardware store it was just. if you want to radio a supervisor abt it you can try but it might take them 15mins. if they show up #in the meantime you cant make that person leave you alone. and theyre going to know exactly who you called and why #also just on a personal note. grocery store is doing wonders for my social anxiety. its like a vr simulation for social interactions #you effectively cant fuck up the interaction too bad people will at most think youre kind of funny and then move on w their day

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fingertipsmp3 · 2 years ago

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I am once again sad that a person I bonded with in a dream is not real

#ALEX. where are you and who are youuuu #okay so the dream was crazy. like.. coherent by my usual standards but still ridiculous #i was back at high school but was the age i am now & i was attending a class in ‘business and employment’ which was supposed to help us all #get jobs and learn skills. but in reality the vast majority of the people in the class (including myself) were in mlm schemes #(multi-level marketing before anyone gets confused with the acronym)#myself and the entirety of my high school friend group (about 8 or 9 people) formed the largest faction and we were selling fragrances #for exactly the sort of company you would expect. anyway. i’d been elected manager even though someone else in the group (who actually sells #this shit irl lol) had recruited me & another person’s mom had invested money into it so that none of us had to actually buy inventory #and i was so uncomfortable and ashamed. i was like ‘okay i’ll just do this for a month and then bounce so i can at least get work/management #experience’. so i was very much checked out when everyone was brainstorming ideas for how to come up with a brand & sell it #the only thing i did notice is that there was this guy named alex who was pretty much reporting us whenever we breathed. an example would be #we wanted to call ourselves ‘lions’ but apparently that was the name of an lgbt society in the area that was important to him #so he complained to the teacher/facilitator about us and we couldn’t use lions. and our whole group was complaining about him #but i was thinking ‘fuck i hope he gets us shut down’. he seemed like a nice guy and the stuff people started saying was borderline #homophobic so i had to be the one to shut them down like ‘hey i’m bi as well and i’m your fucking manager. any more of that and you can find #yourself a new job’#so anyway. next thing that happened was the facilitator was like ‘okay we seem to have pretty much been taken over by mlm schemes BUT here #is a list of people in the class who do not want to be recruited & their reasoning. just so you can take note’ and she does a presentation #of course it starts with alex and his ideological opposition to mlms; but there are other people like a girl who has a large academic #workload. but it becomes apparent that alex is the one who rallied them all together to spread dissent. so i went over to talk to him #(for some reason he was now hiding in a tent) and i was like ‘yes alex!!!! can i shake your hand?’ and he was puzzled but he let me #then i stood up and said ‘can i just say something. everyone has great reasons for not wanting to be recruited and as a manager; i want to #say that if i catch any of my employees trying to recruit anyone on the do not recruit list for any reason; you will be fired immediately’#of course this causes a schism. but it also causes me and alex to end up having a heart-to-heart where he’s like ‘why are you even part of #one of these things’ and i’m like ‘honestly i just want legitimate work experience’ and he’s like ‘i can think of so many more legitimate #jobs. including like. fly-tipping. i’d rather have that on my cv than scentsy’ and i was like ‘you’re so right’#and then i woke up thinking ‘god i’m going to have to go door to door selling this shit’ but then i realised i actually didn’t #and i was so happy #it has motivated me to go back to job-hunting though because my god.#that five minutes when i thought i was going to have to traverse the neighbourhood dressed like an idiot and selling wax melts? bleak.

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joelsgoldrush · 3 months ago

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“guilty pleasure” | 8.6k

worst!logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader. reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes. age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age). oral sex (f receiving). fingering. finger sucking. soft dom!logan. wade being the funniest asshole. logan calls reader "kiddo/kid”.

A/N: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.

** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.

*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)

**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)

special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever

The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.

Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.

Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you.

Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.”

Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.

The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend.

You:

cutie patootie alert

there’s this really handsome guy at the bar

i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before

i think i’m in love with him

my night just got a 100% better

Allison:

age

what does he look like

is he bald?

You:

he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here

brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong

i didn’t stare at him for too long

otherwise that would’ve been very weird

and no he’s not fucking bald

that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair

Allison:

so you’re dating retired now

get it grandma!

You:

oh fuck you allison

Allison:

it’s okay girl we all have our flaws

just make sure it’s nobody’s father

wait it’s not mine right?

You:

nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it

Allison:

bitch

Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.

“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.

The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”

Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”

Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss.

Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”

The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.

“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”

Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.”

“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”

Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.

“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features.

“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”

(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)

He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.

“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”

“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules.

“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up.

You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.

“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”

Yeah… that you knew.

It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.

As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.

“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”

“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”

For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”

“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.

“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”

His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”

“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”

“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”

“Look, Wolvie. I–”

“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”

“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”

You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.

Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”

The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”

“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”

“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”

“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”

A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”

“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”

“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”

“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”

Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”

“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”

“Me neither.”

“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”

You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”

Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”

But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.

(But you aren’t.)

His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”

“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”

Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”

“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”

“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”

As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.

What the fuck had just happened?

“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”

She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”

You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”

After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.

Your savior complex strikes again!

It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail.

Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”

Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.

“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”

“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”

“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”

“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”

“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.

Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.

“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients.

“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?

“You sure?”

“Affirmative.”

“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”

“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”

“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.

“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”

“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”

Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”

Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.

“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”

Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? She’s cute.”

Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.

Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”

“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.

After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”

You could die at peace.

“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”

“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”

“Now why would you think that?”

“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”

“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.

“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”

“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”

“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.

He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”

His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”

This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.

“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”

You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.

Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.

Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”

You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”

“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment.

Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”

“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”

“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”

Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”

“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”

“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”

“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”

When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”

“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you.

Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”

“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”

From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”

“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”

“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”

“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”

“Go fuck yourself, will you?”

“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”

Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?

Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.

“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.

You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”

Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”

You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”

He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?

“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”

He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him.

“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”

The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”

“I just... I want to understand you better.”

“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”

He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”

With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.

“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”

“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”

The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his.

Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”

Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”

But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”

Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”

He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”

“Should I give you some space?”

That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”

“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”

“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.

“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”

“Am I that easily replaced?”

“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”

Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.

Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.

He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?

It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.

Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?

“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.

“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”

The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic.

“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”

“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”

You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.

“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”

“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”

“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”

“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”

“Careful.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”

You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”

His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”

“Get your hands off her.”

Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on.

“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”

“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”

Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?”

The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”

“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.

“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.

“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.

“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”

“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”

The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”

Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”

“Don’t. Now is not the time.”

“I was protecting you.”

“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.

Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”

You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”

“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”

“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”

His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”

“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”

You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days.

“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”

In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.

“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”

“Right here? On the counter?”

“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”

“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”

“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.

“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”

“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”

“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”

“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”

His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“L-logan–”

“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”

You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”

With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you.

“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”

He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble.

“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”

Who had given him a damn script for this?

The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.

Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”

And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.

“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”

“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”

You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”

Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”

part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

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sanatomis · 6 months ago

Text

cw. none except satoru being disgustingly cute (part 2)

satoru isn’t used to people calling him anything other than his surname. gojo-san to most, gojo-sensei to others. it’s simple, and gets the job done.

only a handful of people stick to calling him by his given name. to them, he’s satoru. it’s easy, and rolls of the tongue, and he greatly prefers it over the sound of his surname. it makes him feel like an actual person.

satoru never entertained the possibility of being called anything else other than those two names. he didn’t think it would ever happen.

for once, he was glad to be proven wrong.

“tough day, pretty?” you ask gently, and he sighs with a nod as he throws himself into your opened arms. his body moulds easily into yours, and he lets out a heavy groan as he settles onto the couch with you. the groan is loud, and over-exaggerated.

it’s so satoru.

you have to stifle a giggle.

“everything went horribly wrong,” he grumbles, his voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “the higher ups were up my ass again, my students laughed at me again, and when i finally made it to that bakery you liked they were out of your favourite pastries so i couldn’t get them for you—again!”

“oh, my poor baby,” you coo, and gently push his bangs out of his face. he nods in agreement, faking an immense amount of sympathy for himself. “‘s okay, at least you tried, hm? i think that’s very sweet.”

satoru hums, as if he’s deeply thinking about your words. “’m still your baby?” he mumbles, deciding that’s the most important thing right now. his eyes briefly flutter shut, consumed by utter bliss as you play with the hairs on his undercut.

“mhm, still my baby.”

“yeah? what else am i?”

this time you do giggle. he does this sometimes. you aren’t exactly sure why—but on tough days, satoru likes to crawl into your arms and listen to you call him every cheesy nickname under the sun. it’s easily providable and makes him so very happy, so you always indulge him.

“my honey bun.”

“and?”

“my boo bear.”

“mhm.”

“my sweetheart.”

“yes?”

you laugh softly. “my mochi,” you coo, and pinch his cheek. it’s a little squished because he’s laying on your chest, but it emphasises your point.

he grins under your touch. it’s adorable.

“keep them coming, please?” he asks, and you do. you always do, unable to refuse him. especially when he asks so sweetly.

“my sugar cookie.”

“my muffin.”

“my baby cakes.”

“my angel.”

“my love.”

“my husband.”

“h—huh?” satoru stammers, looking up from your chest. he lays his chin on your sternum, baby blue eyes blinking up at you. they’re filled with awe, surprise, and utter glee. “that’s, i’m not. . .”

“just testing the title, baby,” you tell him, and continue playing with his hair. he bathes in your touch and you smile softly as he grabs and kisses the palm of your hand. “what do you think, hm?”

“i think you should call me it again.”

“oh?”

“mhm,” he mumbles.

“my dearest husband.”

“again.”

“my handsome husband.”

“again.”

“my sweet husband.”

“again, please?”

you hum, impressed. “my well-mannered husband.”

satoru chuckles, and lays back down on your chest. his white hair tickles against your skin, and he sighs in content.

“i think i want to be your husband for real.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” he mumbles and nuzzles further into your hold. “y’ve got the same ring size still, right?”

“i sure do,” you say, a content smile on your lips as you watch him slowly doze off to sleep.

“hm, good to know.”

for satoru, those nicknames make him feel as if he’s something even greater than a person—it makes him feel yours.

he’s not just gojo, the strongest. he’s not just satoru, the at-times somewhat immature adult with the sweet tooth of a child.

he’s yours. your baby. your honey bun. your boo bear. your mochi. your boyfriend. your love. and for satoru, there’s no greater thing in the world than that.

#ꕤ — sanatomis darling: gojo satoru #usually i list the nicknames i have from him of the top of my head but i’ll admit it guys #i opened my notes app for this one #i call him so many nicknames i know mimi is sick of us #very self-indulgent once again my apologies (or not)#HES JUST SO #adorable #he’s everything and he deserves every nickname #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader fluff #satoru gojo x reader fluff #gojo x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #sneaking it in again guys sorry #⍣ ❥ ೋ 𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑖.

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ghostedeabha · 1 year ago

Note

imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose

okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."

thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

wc: 563

warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)

a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3

a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?

simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.

so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.

looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.

"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.

"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.

"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.

"i'm taken."

"i know." you replied with a short laugh.

"you should be touching me like that then."

it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.

"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"

"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.

"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.

sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.

"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.

you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.

"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.

"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.

simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."

you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.

you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.

#ghostedéabha #éabha writes #éabha's 💌#ghostedéabha: ghost #ghostedéabha: simon riley #simon ghost riley fluff #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x reader fluff #ghost riley x reader #awnie's amazing nonnies💞

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belovedcloud · 2 months ago

Text

One Bed

pairing: leon kennedy x fem! agent! reader

✎ synopsis: who knew saving the president's daughter was so tiring? only you and leon knew the treacherous steps towards the hotel room that was supposed to rejuvenate you both. only for him to open the door and to see one bed.

✎ notes: omg hey everyone. it has been months since my last post and thank you so much for the love on 'such a sweetheart'. i needed a hiatus from writing and i hope you guys love this one bed trope! it's not proofread so sorry if there are mistakes but i am way too lazy to read over it all. love you guys.

➤ WC: 5K

➤ CW: you helped leon save ashley, one bed trope duh, touch starved leon, kisses, petnames, cowgirl, tired sex, p in v, unprotected sex, leon cums on you.

Who knew saving the president's daughter would be so exhausting? The whole ordeal was strenuous to your muscles and mental state. A good nights rest was what you needed after the catastrophe you just encountered. Luckily, you were able to squeeze a shower before getting to the hotel. The idea of mud, bodily fluids and blood was too much to handle for any longer than necessary. Though, if it wasn't for Leon - you probably wouldn't be around currently. Being mission partners with him allowed you to understand his perspective on bioweapons and whatnot.

Without a doubt, he hated them. Despised even. This was a common viewpoint, but his hate went far beyond the normal eye.

It was best not to pry. You couldn't class yourselves as friends, just work partners. Agents who fought the living dead and anything else that came in your way. The undead was a sensitive topic to Leon. What could he have went through?

Leon's life was one of pure terror ever since he was victimised to Raccoon City. The first day on the job completely different to others who joined for the first time. Unlocking padlocks were for survival, not for fun. Reading notes left from other officers who already found their fate was disturbing. The scribbles on the paper led him out. To safety he had hoped. No. Safety was not an option that day - his welfare was tarnished every second.

Now being forced into the workforce of the government wasn't any better. Probably even worse. Time and time again Leon would feel the cold metal pressed against his temple, shakily holding the gun to his head. The index finger aching to snap the trigger to blast his brains out. Yet the same reasoning withheld him from doing so. What if another incident like Raccoon City happened in the near future? He was hired to help others - to dispose of the horrors of the world without alarming the population.

Having you as his partner was a struggle and a blessing.

His communicative state from when he was 21 was now gone. A rookie turned agent against his will led him to be colder than others. Leon kept to himself most of the time, here and there giving you a few pointers on how you can effective pop a flash grenade or what to do in a sticky situation. You reflected how he was 6 years ago. A 21 year old who was excited to start at a police department - you were an agent who was motivated to save others. Your actions held such kindness to him. No prying or none of those snickering comments he would get from the other agents at base.

Just peace.

So mentally speaking, he didn't mind having to share a room with you in this crammed hotel. It was a Saturday so it was expected. Though, other patrons would be coming here to have a one night stand or a relaxing time away from their family... you both just needed rest.

Sluggish movements paved their way to the door number, 012. You and him clinging onto your duffel bags silently. It was an awkward silence, a silence that hung below you both as he fumbled with the key card in his hand. Scanning it through to unlock the barrier between you both and the comfort of the beds that laid inside.

Beds. Or... bed?

Your eyes scan the room. Continuously trying to seek out the other bed that should be here. You examine the footing of it, seeing that it's a double bed instead of 2 singles. Great. The dumbfounded look on your face is almost laughable as the situation dawns on you. You were in a room with Leon and it only consisted of one bed for the both of you.

There were a few ways to go about this. You either both sleep in the same bed together or one takes the bed and the other finds another place to rest. Looking around, it appears that the only viable option would be the cracked leather arm chair, resting solo in the corner. Thinking about it, you were willing to give yourself a crick in your neck to save yourself from the embarrassment of sharing the bed with the other agent.

Leon thought otherwise. The brisk movement of the gear belt slung over the armchair with his duffel bag smacked down in the centre. He was tired, over the bullshit that he just fought - he couldn't care less if he had to share a bed.

"Looks like they forgot a bed huh?" He joked sarcastically, stretching his limbs. The strain of his muscles was visible, undoubtably attractive. Leon carried himself enchantingly, you wanted to learn more about him as every second passed. A sigh leaves his throat whilst he sat down on the bed, continuously stretching. The shirt riding up slightly, giving you a chance to avert your eyes to the uncovered skin. His v-line was on show, the dip down soon stopped by the fabric of his cargos. The shirt he was wearing was a tight fit, letting the muscles of his biceps become visible to the naked eye and the shape of his pecs becoming more noticeable the more you looked.

At least you had a bed in the room? That was the only positive you could find from this when removing your gear off your body. Slinging it into the corner of the room alongside your bag. You both are exhausted from the long day, so you were thankful there's at least a bed to share.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower real quick..." His movements are swift, already gripping onto his shirt he reveals his back to you - throwing the shirt on the floor beforehand. Multiple scars are littered faintly around the skin but the more distinguishable thing is his muscles. Leon's toned body calls out to you as his shoulder to waist ratio is insane. A slim waist, broad shoulders, it all speaks to you. You can feel your body speaking back as you look at him a little longer than expected.

Your little fangirling sesh is over when he shuts the bathroom door behind him - you let a breath you didn't know you withheld. Well, all you could do was wait for him to finish his shower before you could have one. The pitter patter of the water hitting the shower floor is heard before it dies down - giving you a mental note that Leon was now cleaning himself. Why are you even thinking about this?

Leon lets out a sigh once the hot water hits his body. An instant relieving feeling flowing through him as he just stands there for a minute. Soaking in the greatness of water before grabbing the washcloth and shower gel nicely provided by the hotel staff. Squeezing the bottle, a dollop of soap smothers the cloth before he runs it across his body.

Humming can be heard whilst he cleanses his body, ensuring to dispose of all the sweat and dirt from their recent mission. Reflecting back on the situation, he started to feel a bit nervous having to share a bed with you tonight. You were pretty, very pretty to him. He mentally scolded himself whilst he ran the cloth down his chest - his mind returning back to you. A soft moan elicited out of his lips made his hand smack his face. Leon wasn't sure why he was feeling this way. Instinctive movements of him washing himself in motion, his fingers manoeuvring the washcloth on autopilot as his mind focused on you. He can't help but think about you some more, remembering your cute smile when you would hand him a cup of coffee at base. Or your simple gestures of making sure he was comfortable and how you reserved yourself around him made his heart skip a beat.

It had been a while since he thought about someone romantically, his job stripping him of any personal life as the thought of the multitude of viruses around the world was increasing each day. But now, deep down... he could feel an attraction to you. Leon wasn't sure if it was sexual or genuine love - it would be too soon to tell. However, this feeling was deep rooted within, his mind wanted to show you love. His heart longing for someone.

A sentiment he had not felt in a while.

Trying to calm his heart down from going into cardiac arrest, giving himself a mental pep talk - trying not to think about you too much. He shuts off the water soon after and grabs the white towel neatly folded on top of the counter cabinet. Rubbing himself dry and wrapping it around his waist - tightening it slightly. He doesn't want an accident to happen.

Your mind shuts off as you hear footsteps in the bathroom. He was out. Okay. Do you look away when he opens the door? Leon doesn't give you time to think as the door creaks open, revealing himself into the main room. His bare chest and hair still damp for show. Jesus Christ. His damped skin looks good in the dim light, as if he had displayed himself just for you. He notices you sitting tensely on the bed, his body approached you. Blue eyes instantly drifting to your body and lingering for a second before he snaps out of it.

"I needed that..." He groans out, sitting beside you. You mentally slap yourself as you snap your thoughts back to the present.

"Yeah I bet, I already had a shower before we got here so I'm alright." Your response is meek, but at least you had something to respond with.

The man next to you raises his eyebrows at you in slight surprise, he wasn't expecting you to have already taken a shower - but by the look of it, you did look super clean compared to him before. Perhaps you had it when he was getting questioned at base for the report of the mission. Leon tries to keep his eyes focused on your face and not your body. "Oh lucky you," he replied with a smirk.

"I couldn't stand all the random liquids on me, it was disgusting." A chuckle leaves you when you remember looking at yourself in the mirror. Gross... but at least you could laugh at yourself for getting in such a mess? "You were subjected to most of the mess to be honest." Leon chortled out, reminiscing on your reaction when you had novistador blood all over you.

Your conversation with him was cut short when you both recalled the situation laid opened to the two of you. One bed, two agents. It seemed childish that you couldn't think the both of you could share a bed - it was just awkward. Really awkward.

"I can take the floor if you want?" The sound of your voice cuts through the silence, Leon replayed the question in his head before shaking his head. "Don't be ridiculous, I'm not letting you sleep on this cold ass floor." His eyes averted to the hardwood floor, indicating that your question was out of order.

"You want to share the bed then?" This question to Leon was better, he really didn't mind another person next to him whilst he slept. Recalling past moments, he's slept through worse. "We're both adults here. We can share the bed, it won't be bad." A calm response from the agent. What more could you expect?

Your reluctant nod allows him to get back up to look through the wardrobe in the hotel room. A couple extra blankets stored alongside some pyjamas that the workforce provided for both of you. You two were granted a pair of sweatpants and black top - your eyes brightened up, realising you weren't having to sleep in fresh gear wear.

"I'll go in the bathroom to change, you can change here." An authoritative tone left him, not giving you a chance to speak back before he returned back into the bathroom. Scurrying over to the open wardrobe, you hand picked your pyjamas - undressing yourself from the imprisonment of your current clothes to something a lot more baggy and comfortable. A sigh let loose from you, your body mindlessly walking over to the bed and plopping down on the edge. The mattress aiding in soothing your back from the hellish ride you attuned escaping the island.

A yawn seeped through your lips, hazily looking at your phone screen at the time, 01:24... It really was time to rest. Though, the thought of Leon couldn't leave your mind. He plagued your brain - a part of you didn't complain.

A sound of a door creaking open embarked into your ears, Leon had changed into his nightclothes. The tank top fit snugly on his body however, the pair of sweatpants seemed a little baggy. Clearly a little too big for him since they were hanging dangerously low on his hips. He was plain exhausted. His limbs gradually moved him to the bed that you two were about to share. Sinking his body into the mattress as the sheets hugged his frame.

Minutes passed, a silence rose in the room. Leon's back laid restfully whilst scrolling through countless media apps to pass the time. His mind wandering back to you. The heat emanating his body contradicted with the cold expression on his face. Why was he so hard to read? You couldn't tell if he was even comfortable with the idea of sharing a bed with you. Your body laid on it's side, staring at him brazenly. Forgetting that your eyes were peering at his body, Leon's gaze averted to you - an eyebrow raised on his face.

"You alright?" His question caught you off guard; no you weren't okay. Not when he was so close to you, the faint smell of him seeping into your senses. You genuinely couldn't be okay in this situation.

"Mhm, m'alright. Just tired." Leon's eyes glanced at you and his eyes shamelessly roamed over your body before he forced himself to look back down at the device in his hand. 'What the hell are you doing?' The question rung in his mind over and over again as he thought about you. There was no denying the fact that he found you incredibly attractive - but for you to be his work partner... It was unprofessional for such thoughts to occur in his mind. Shakily putting down the phone in his grasp he spoke. "You should get some rest, it's getting late."

Like rest was an option. Turning your head towards him, a twinge of irritation was mixed in with your voice. "I know, it's just.. it's hard to sleep right now." The idea of you and him so close was making your head foggy, especially now since he rolled onto his side - discarding his phone on the bedside table. He now faced you, noticing the tone of your voice. Was there something bothering you?

"Why's it hard?" It was starting to click in Leon's head that them sharing a bed may have made you nervous. Scared perhaps. Analysing your expression, he was observant in your body language. A hint of worry trespassed his vision whilst he watched you silently - waiting for you to continue. His head in his hand, inaudibly taking notice of how pretty you look. Completely captivated from your features, he shook his head to clear his mind.

"We're sharing a bed, now I know there's nothing between us but it's just... weird? No offence! Like you're not weird you know that I just-" Realising you were rambling, a heavy sigh left your lips. It was hard trying to compose yourself, particularly because Leon was looking at you. He didn't look confused nor grossed out.. just enamoured. Lovesick eyes boring into yours when he heard you ramble for a moment.

A slight chuckle was brought out from him when you mentioned the closeness between the two of you, a small idea crossed his mind about how your body was mere inches away from his. He swallowed before speaking. "None taken, I get it. Sharing a bed can be kinda intimate huh?" He found it rather cute that you were so antsy. "But I'm glad we have a bed..."

Leon was right, you convinced yourself nothing was weird - staring at the cream coloured ceiling. A light huff was let out of Leon's nose. "Just try and relax," he mumbled, unsure on how to comfort you. Watching you snuggle under the covers, a slight smile spread across his face.

"Cute."

Leon surprised himself that he mumbled it out loud, his body tensing from the fear that reigned his body. Mentally face palming himself, rapidly looking away from you. Reprimanding himself for being so stupid to let it slip out.

After a moment, a lower voice was heard from him. "I mean- Ugh, sorry I didn't mean to make this so awkward." Shifting himself further from you, feeling ashamed of himself - you stop him from almost falling off the bed. "No no, it's fine!" Your efforts of comforting him didn't help him as it was clear he was still embarrassed. Leon's mind kept recalling the scene, shouldered with how attractive you were.

"I meant it." He stated. Leon had no clue where this confidence in him was coming from, but he hoped it wouldn't run out any time soon. The look on your face made him feel less nervous. A shocked expression plastered all over you - stuttering not knowing what to say. He found you to be the prettiest woman he had ever seen, the kindest too. Looking back at it all, he registered all along he had a little thing for you. You respected him, valued his need for privacy and want to be unjudged. Not many knew of his situation and Leon's involvement in Raccoon City. You didn't even know, you never pried.

Shamelessly, a fat smile shone on your face. Leon's expression softened as he found himself in awe. His body itched, craving your touch. Your love. This renowned love blossomed within him.

"You're cute too." That one sentence could make his heart stop if he really went into deep thought about it. Leon never really found himself to be that attractive, yeah his muscles were good in some aspect in his eyes. He did train well, he gave himself that. After all, he was the one many depended on to save the abundance of sick problems this once calm world faced.

Another silence was shared between the two of you - not one of awkwardness but one of solace. Leon didn't feel distressed, he felt calm. You brought out a side of him which he believed was gone. The side being the young man who wasn't scared of the future. A time where he was happy within himself and oblivious. All he could picture was you. You and him happily being each other's bridge.

Each other's home.

"I'm glad we got that out of the way." A breathless voice cut you both out of your trances. Leon flickering his view on you. Your face, those beautiful eyes staring into his own. The soft lips of yours calling out to him. Your bare neck, a blank canvas for his kisses and bites. His eyes then averted to the base of your neck, your chest covered by the black shirt you wore. Feeling his stare, the burning sensation in your cheeks rose. "What... what now?" The scary question was imprinted in your mind. It was obvious you both had a thing for each other, yet what were you going to do about it? Perhaps a relationship could happen between the both of you; would you both just stay work partners?

"Can I.. can I hold you?" Vulnerability was present in Leon's voice. He craved to touch your skin, his fingers twitching slightly from the excitement. Touch starved. That was the true definition of Leon's love life right now. He hadn't involved himself in relationship matters for years and now that the chance popped up with you, he would take what he could get.

You didn't even say yes, your body spoke for you. Wrapping your arms around his chest - you could feel his heartbeat. Rapid pumps thudded into your ear. Strong arms hugged you back clearly stating silently that Leon couldn't let you go. You'd be surprised if his shirt didn't have an imprint of your face since you were so close against him. Breaking free slightly, your head popped up - looking up at him. You were presented with his Adam's apple, slowly bobbing up and down as he swallowed looking down at you. The rough bump alluring you in whilst your hazy eyes lingered on the skin of his neck. Moles sparsely speckled all over his skin. God had crafted Leon himself, you were sure of it.

Moreover, the heat from his body lingered around you. Creating an invisible fortress of affection and love as both of you stared at each other.

A shaky hand pressed against the skin of your cheek, calloused pads caressing you. "You're so pretty." Leon mumbled, shifting a bit. Your touch to him granted him a sense of warmth, he even leaned into it a little - subconsciously seeking comfort. You brought out the 'weak' side of him, it felt nice for him to let down his guard and be himself around you. He let out a pleased hum as he cuddled you, the hold over you was tight. To you, it seemed like he was starved for physical contact and was finally getting the human touch he deserved.

What happened next was a blur, to both of you anyway. The stare-off between his blue eyes and your own turned into your faces being so close together; guaranteed to kiss. An eskimo kiss shared with him, the tips of both your noses touching. Lips hovering over his, your whisper snaps him out of his daze. "Thank you..." Your gratitude granted you a chuckle from Leon but his mind seemed to be elsewhere.

Leon continued to stare at you but to pinpoint, he was eying at your lips. They looked so soft, the mere sight of them making his heart race more. He swallowed hard, his mind clouded with the vision of kissing you. An overwhelming sense of desire passing through him - it was need. But at the same time, he knew he couldn't just go in for a kiss; not without consent. Yet he craved to feel his lips against yours.

"Can I kiss you?" His mumbled whisper echoed through your ears. Were you hearing him correctly?

Kiss? You?

Besides, it's not like you were going to straight out reject him. That wasn't even possible in this situation with him; pressed so close against you that you could feel his rock hard boner pressing against your thigh. A nimble nod from you responding to his question was all he needed.

Leon's lips are soft, softer than you would expect. Sweet little kisses are shared, melting you into him. His hands now run down your back, rubbing your skin through the cotton shirt. He hums, tilting your head slightly back to get a better angle. It feels messy as saliva is shared between the two of you. A soft whine escaping you when Leon breaks away. Reining you back in, he gives you another kiss. Pure passion and love interweaved in it.

Kisses soon turn into touches as your fingers manoeuvre around his torso, slowly digging your fingers into him - eliciting a groan out his mouth. His touch on you becomes possessive, kneading your skin in his hands. Leon holds you close and after a few minutes, you find yourself on his lap. His hands automatically went to your hips, gripping you tight as his eyes locked onto yours. Those blue eyes of his roamed your body shamelessly whilst he held you against him, taking in the view of your straddling his hips.

You could feel the hard-on beneath you, begging for some friction. Subconsciously, your hips start to rock slightly, Leon takes full control as he guides you. There was no way he could stop right now, not with how his body was aching so badly and having you on his lap like this. "Can we take this slow? We're both... really tired." A yawn escapes you mid sentence, you can feel yourself getting tired and wet.

"Yeah, we can take this slow. Anything you want love." The nickname shoots desire right into your veins, the rasp in his voice concocted with a tired sigh as he watches you grind on him is heavenly. Shuddering from his touch, Leon brings you down to lay on him - adjusting you on his lap. Your foreheads touch, all you can see is love in his eyes. Leon's fingers tug on your shirt, a breathless chuckle leaving him before he asks the question. "Can I take this off?" He can't help but want to see you, feel you - caress the smoothness of your skin on the pads of his fingers. Hearing you say the word "yes" made his hands work in a fast fashion as your torso was soon left bare.

"So beautiful..." He sat you back up, feeling your flesh mould in-between his fingers. Leon ached for you, he wanted to have more energy to give you the proper fucking you deserved. However, the past mission and the strain it had on both of your bodies exempted him from treating you the way he wanted. So he had to settle for soft, gentle sex. Just like you wanted.

Rapid breathing contradicted the mellow touches shared between you both, your hips continuously rocking slowly before he lifts you up slightly - removing the same sweatpants that were already dangerously low. You're face to face with his boxers, a clear wet patch showcasing the pre-cum that leaked out of his tip.

"See what you do to me?" Leon groaned out, palming himself slowly - your eyes following his every movement. He was enchanting nonetheless, alluring you in with every pump he did to himself. Leon's mind was fogged with you, the view of you turning every cell in his brain insane. He seriously couldn't get enough of your watchful eyes scanning his hand; viewing the pornographic sight in front of you.

Although once again he did think to make this the best sex he's had in a while, it was obvious you both were too tired to even do anything remotely crazy that night. So plain ole cowgirl it is.

Quick work was made for your sweatpants as they were easily tossed to the floor, your panties being the the second piece of protection between you and Leon's boxers straining his dick in place. His hands guided you still, the subtle movements rocking back on forth bringing both of you a sense of release you both needed. Silken kisses bringing out a wave of passion. Playing with the band of his boxers - a dark look appeared in his gaze.

"Impatient?" The mere one word question could've left you astonished if you weren't so hazy from being aroused. Of course you were impatient. He was the embodiment of seduction. "Well, yeah." A laugh escaped both Leon and you, your eyes boring into his.

"Shouldn't keep you waiting should I?"

Sliding your panties to the side; pulling his boxers down, it was easy for his cock to slide in. Eliciting a deep moan from the both of you as kisses were shared once again. Leon couldn't believe how good you felt, he already felt pussy drunk. The two of you shared tired eyes and low whimpers whilst your hips rocked back and forth.

"You're so pretty..." Leon mumbled out, dazed out of his mind looking at how your body synchronised with his. The way his dick was slipping in and out of you, pressing into that sweet spot of yours. How were you so pretty? And how did you already make such a mess? Glancing down, his eyes followed to the feeling of wetness coating the base of his cock - your inner thighs glistening from how wet you were. Completely mesmerised, Leon looked up at you with pure love and lust.

You couldn't talk, not when all your throat could conjure was the moans and low screams as his hips started to jerk up slightly - thrusting himself further in you. Holding onto the bedframe keeping you both afloat, your mumbles tried to alert him from the upcoming orgasm reaching you. "Mmph... L-Leon, I..." was all you could muster. It was the only coherent thing he could understand before feeling you tighten up.

"That's it baby, keep going." The softness in his voice juxtaposed the way his hips were snapping up and down, Leon couldn't help it. Your pussy felt too good wrapped around him. He had to put in the last of his energy to making you feel good at least. Lazily, his hand slowly reached your clothed clit - his fingers slowly rubbing the fabric of your panties. The perfect amount of friction to make your bundle of nerves become overstimulated whilst being stuffed full.

Your tired eyes locked with his, feeling yourself getting closer to seventh heaven. A small smirk plastered on Leon's face, watching you breathlessly whilst his dick twitched too.

"Gotta pull out..." He murmured, his fingers making you reach the pinnacle of your orgasm. "L-Leon!" All you could do was shudder on-top of him, feeling the remaining energy in you seep out alongside your orgasm. Collapsing onto him, Leon subtly slipped himself out, painting your clit and lower stomach with his cum. A low hum leaving him as he kissed the nape of your neck. "You did so well."

Panting heavily, your moan responded to his words. Chuckling to himself, Leon held you close whilst sitting up. Grabbing a few tissues in the box to wipe your tummy.

"Come on, let's get cleaned up."

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! thank u for reading :)

-> masterlist

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy resident evil #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine

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soaps-mohawk · 16 days ago

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 40: Where Do We Go From Here?

Summary: Things aren't going as smoothly as anyone would like. Maybe they can fix it. Maybe they can't.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 5,970 words

Warnings: Angst, discussion of nightmares, PTSD, discussion of death and killing people, emotions, so many emotions, angst, a little sliver of comfort

A/N: And it is back!! not super proud of this one but I'm starting out on a filler so...yeah. Really just setting up for the next part where some action starts again. You'll see. Anyway, glad to be back at it and I hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

John stands at the door, gazing out at the yard. It’s pouring rain, dumping buckets on the roof. The water has pooled on the planks of the deck, splattering with every big drop that pours from the sky. The weather once again mirrors your mood, your sobs audible from your room over the pounding on the roof.

John holds his mug in his hands, staring at the reflection in the window. Kyle and Johnny are sitting on the couch, both looking like kicked puppies. They’re itching to enter your room and go comfort you, but they’ve been kicked out for now. You’re not in the state of mind to be around any of them right now, no matter how badly your sobs tear at their heartstrings.

You haven’t been in that state of mind for a few hours now.

Whatever nightmare had plagued your mind last night, it was particularly awful. You’ve been up since the early hours, waking from a nightmare with a terrified scream that had continued until Kyle finally got you to stop and breathe. His ears are still ringing with it, his mind still pulsing with that fear. Something happened. Someone got in. Someone hurt you.

Nothing happened. No one got in.

The only threat was still just in your mind.

Graves.

He knows that’s at least part of your nightmares. Christine had disclosed that to him quietly on the side. Even she doesn’t know everything that plagues your dreams, but Graves seems to be a common specter in the darkness of your mind.

It makes his blood boil, and not just out of anger for what Graves did to you.

It boils with anger at himself too.

It’s his fault you’re in this state in the first place. He should have known, he should have seen, he should have suspected. He should have never left you there. You should have been his priority over anything else.

How badly he’s failed you.

He lets out a sigh, turning away from the window to move over to the couches. He sinks down with a sigh, resting his elbows on his knees. The little progress you’ve made has regressed with this new string of nightmares, the fear pushing you further and further back into your mind. He’s resolved himself to only get worried when Christine is worried, and right now she’s beginning to look worried. If you regress back again, the chances of bringing you out of that are slim. Sure, there are plenty of options to help, but you have to want them to help.

He knows exactly what will help, you just don’t want it.

He runs a hand through his hair as your sobs begin to quiet. It’s longer than he’s let it get for a long time. They’re all a bit scraggly and ragged looking, worn down and lazy now that there’s no strict rules guiding their lives. None of them quite know what to do outside of the regulations they’ve spent the better parts of their lives living under. He’s been in the military longer now than he hasn’t, and he’s been finding himself itching for that structure again. He can never bring himself to relax and put the job aside even on leave. He only takes it when he has to and usually spends it training and keeping his skills sharp.

Now...now things have changed.

They have no return now. There’s no clear, set time that they have to return to base. They can’t return to base. It would leave them too open to a possible retaliation from Shepherd. They were betrayed by one of their own already, who's to say someone else wouldn’t be just as eager to become a traitor for a chunk of cash? They’re not even truly safe here.

How are they going to go back to base after this? Can he bring himself to take you back there, a place you never felt comfortable in the first place?

Where do they go from here?

He’s been trying not to think too much about it. That’s a dilemma for a different day. That’s thinking too far ahead. Day by day is as far as he dares to take it now.

The door closes quietly, John’s head lifting to watch Christine as she approaches the couch. There’s a slump to her shoulders, something that’s been getting lower and lower as the days have progressed. She’s struggling with this just as much as they all are.

She sinks down on the couch, letting out a long breath. Your sobs have quieted, no sound coming from the room now. The silence is almost eerie after days of constant sounds, good and bad from your room. You were doing better. You were looking more alive and well.

Then this happened.

“She’s asleep.” Christine says, her voice strained. “Finally calmed down enough to nap.” She covers her eyes with a hand, sitting there still for a moment.

“The nightmares?” John asks, glancing at Christine out of the corner of his eye.

“Worse.” She says, her gaze far away. “She's remembering what happened.”

John stares at Kyle and Johnny for a moment, the betas returning his worried gaze.

“Those shadows she killed...” Johnny says.

Christine nods. “She's, uh, not taking it well.”

John runs a hand over his face. He knew it was possible you'd start to remember what happened during the time your omega took control. It wouldn't remain a dark spot forever, though he hoped it would. The things you were forced to do are coming to light now, the things you did to survive because they failed you. Taking the life of someone who deserves it is nothing to them. Taking the life of someone who would take yours just as quickly isn't so much as a second thought.

You're not like them.

You've never had to face that reality before, and you shouldn't have had to.

“One of us should talk to her.” Kyle says.

“I don't think that's the best idea right now.” Christine shakes her head. “She's...regressed a bit. Pushing that on her, while well intentioned, might do more harm than good...” she trails off, her gaze still far away.

The three of them sit there, waiting for what she’s going to say next. He’s not even sure Johnny or Kyle are breathing as they wait patiently for whatever solution Christine might be able to come up with, whatever move she thinks is the best one to take next.

“I want to take her out.” Christine says.

“What?” John asks in surprise.

“She needs to get out of the house. It’s not doing any of us any good sitting in here all day.” She rubs her eyes. “She expressed interest in going for a walk a couple days ago. She needs to get up and moving, start regaining some of her strength.”

John lets out a breath leaning back against the couch. He’s tempted to say no. His knee jerk reaction is to refuse. The world outside isn’t safe. If anyone is watching, if anyone sees them...

There’s always going to be that risk though, and Christine is right. Sitting in the house all day isn’t doing any of them any good. They’re at the mercy of the rain, but even then, he doubts it will keep any of them trapped inside for long.

“When the rain clears up.” He finally says. “We'll discuss it more. But, I think that might be a good idea.”

“What can we do?” Kyle asks, staring at Christine.

She lets out a sigh, covering her eyes with her hand. “I don’t know. I’ve helped hundreds of omegas in crisis and yet I don’t know why this case is so hard.”

“This has become more personal than those cases.” John says.

Christine’s shoulders slump even more. “I know. I try so hard but she’s just so...different from other omegas.”

“This entire situation is different from what you’ve done before.” Kyle says.

“You’re right.” Christine sighs. “The best we can do is let her lead. Do what she needs, give her what she wants. The worst thing that can happen right now is regression. If she regresses too far, we might never get her back.”

“What is it? Tell me what ye need.”

“Can you make me forget?”

“I wish I could.”

“Hit me hard enough on the head I might forget everything. Then we can all just start over.”

“That’s not funny.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be.”

“Kitten,” Johnny sighs, leaning his elbows on his knees. “I wish I could make those thoughts go away. I wish I could make them mine.”

“I killed people.”

“I know.” He reaches out, touching your hand. “I wish ye didnae have to. Ye were just defending yerself. Those Shadows would have done worse to ye if ye hadn’t.”

You curl up in your chair, turning away from him. “That’s not helpful.”

“Sorry.” He says, letting out another sigh. “We just want to help ye.”

You’re silent for a moment, sitting there listening to the waves. It’s cold this morning, not even the thick blanket draped over you offering much respite. It’s the first morning it hasn’t poured rain in days and you were determined to take full advantage of it despite the objections of your pack.

“I know.” You finally say, staring out at the grey clouds looming on the horizon. The rain will return, just like the dark thoughts constantly swirling in your mind. They make you sick, nausea constantly churning in your stomach and threatening to rise.

Johnny wraps his hand around yours, his palm warm against your cold skin. “Should head inside. Gonnae catch a cold.”

“You know that’s a myth right?” You say, tilting your head to stare at him.

“No it’s not.” He says, pulling your hand between his. “It’s not good for ye being out in the cold.”

“I’ll live.” You say, trying to pull your hand from his, but he holds you firm. He’s stubborn, but so are you.

“Kitten...” He says, almost whining at you. “Go inside please.”

You let out a sigh, staring out at the horizon again. The clouds promise more rain soon, another downpour on its way. You hate it, how much it’s been raining. You just want to be outside, down at the beach, going on walks. Your pack won’t let you though, not while it’s raining, even though they often leave no matter the weather.

It’s not fair.

You’re not a fragile flower and you’re tired of being treated that way. Even though your brain feels like it’s in a blender constantly. Even though the pain of what happened still drives into you like a knife, you just want to be treated like a normal human being again.

“Fine.” You sigh, pushing yourself up to stand. “I’ll go inside.”

Johnny grabs your arm before you can head back in the door. “Ye know we just want the best for you.”

You stare at him for a long moment, emotions swirling in your mind. They are trying. You’ll give them that credit. They’re trying, but not hard enough. “What you think is best and what’s actually best isn’t always the same.”

He looks like a kicked puppy as he lets you go. You turn away before you can feel guilty, heading back inside the cottage.

You pull the blanket tighter around you as you stare at the flickering flames in the hearth. The heat is intense so close, but it’s warming the chill under your skin. It’s getting colder at night, foretelling the upcoming winter. All the blankets in the world couldn’t fight off the chill that’s settled in you at night. You know what might help, but you’re not brave enough to approach that solution.

The footsteps on the stairs don’t startle you in the otherwise silent house, the creak of them audible over the crackle of the logs in the fire.

“I’d add another one.” A voice says from behind you.

“I’m going to.” You say, reaching for the stack next to the fireplace.

“Careful. Put it on the side.”

“I know how to make a fire, thank you.” You snap, shoving the log in before moving it into place with the poker. “I’m not useless.”

“Didn’t mean to imply you were.” It’s silent for a moment as you settle back into place. “What are you doing out here?”

“I’m cold.” You answer simply, not feeling up to giving an entire expose on your current state of mind to the person you want to speak to the least right now.

“We can turn the heat up more.” John says. “Whatever you want to be more comfortable.”

I want you to leave. You bite your lip, suddenly not brave enough to say it out loud.

They are trying.

“Why are you down here?” You ask instead.

“Couldn’t sleep so I came to get a snack.” He says. “You want anything?”

“No.” You say quickly, wrapping the blanket tighter around you. “I’m alright.”

“You sure?” He presses, standing off to your right.

You hesitate for a moment, curling your toes under the blanket as one of the logs snaps. It’s not food you need from him. Your appetite has decreased again with this new wave of horrible things plaguing your mind. “I want to know why,” You say, swallowing the lump in your throat. “why you left me there.”

John shifts behind you, silent for a long moment.

“I got too caught up in the big picture.” He finally says. “I thought that taking out Shepherd would end everything before it went too far. It’s the only way we’ll ever be safe, and I didn’t consider the lengths he’d go to, the lengths he’d let Graves go to, just to cover his own ass long enough for him to escape. I was wrong in making that decision. You’re not like us. You’ve never been left behind, tortured, had to fight your way out of an impossible situation. You shouldn’t have ever been put in that position. We all failed you. Every last one of us.”

Tears burn your eyes as you stare into the fire. “You left me.”

“I know.” He says, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s the worst mistake I’ve ever made.”

“I can’t do this.” You whisper, your knuckles white where they’re gripping the edges of the blanket. The words are coming out and you can’t stop them. Maybe it’s because deep down you remember the better times, when he was a comfort. Someone you could trust to catch you when you fall. “I keep seeing them, seeing what I did, what happened. I killed people.”

“People that would have killed you without a second thought.” He says. “You were defending yourself in a situation where that was unavoidable. It’s not your fault. None of it is.”

“Can we ever move past this?” You ask, your voice quiet and broken.

“I like to think we can.” John says. “It won’t be easy, but if that’s what you want, we sure as hell will work to make it happen. Things won’t go back to the way they were, and they shouldn’t. You deserve better than what we gave you.”

You don’t respond because you can’t. His words float around in your mind, replaying over and over. You want to believe him. You desperately want to believe him, but a deep part of you can’t. He’s made promises before and then broke them. How can you trust this time will be different?

The creak of the stairs wakes you. It’s jarring, pulling you out of a sleep you didn’t know you were in. You’re on the couch in the living room, bundled under a blanket with a decorative pillow under your head. You don’t remember moving to the couch. The fire is nothing more than embers now, but it feels warmer in the house. It’s dawn, the grey light streaming in through the window, chasing away the shadows of night.

“What are you doing out here?” A gruff voice asks you.

You groan, rubbing your eyes. “Fell asleep.”

“On the couch?”

“Think I was on the floor first.” You yawn, pressing your face back into the pillow. “Don’t remember getting to the couch.”

“Why?”

“Got cold.” Your voice is slightly muffled as you pull the blanket up higher.

Simon lets out a sigh before moving around the couch to the fireplace. He adds a couple logs in before lighting it again, the fire crackling back to life. You’re half asleep already as another blanket is draped over you, tucked up around your neck. There’s a feeling of a hand brushing over your head, but that may have just been your imagination as you drift off back to sleep.

You don’t get to sleep long, more footsteps coming down the stairs waking you. A hand does brush over your head this time, the scent of the beach filling your nose. You let out a groan, trying to snuggle deeper into the blankets.

“Sleeping out here this morning?” Kyle’s soft voice reaches your ears.

You grunt, chasing the quickly fading edges of sleep in your brain.

“Breakfast is ready, if you want to get up.”

You are hungry. There’s a quiet rumble of your stomach as you begin to register the smells coming from the kitchen: bacon and eggs and coffee. Johnny is making the coffee most likely. Maybe you’ll have some this morning. You might need it with how groggy you feel.

You stretch out on the couch, trying to breathe some life into your limbs. It’s not the most comfortable couch, definitely not for sleeping, but it’s better than the floor. It was likely John that moved you. He was the only one that knew you were out here last night.

You're not sure how that makes you feel.

It's nice on one hand, that he saved you from the pains of sleeping on the floor. But at the same time it feels like an intrusion. There was a time you wouldn't have thought twice about it. There was a time it would have been normal and expected and you would have thanked him for it.

Now...now you're not sure.

You push yourself up to sit, joints cracking from being stuck in one position for so long. You blink slowly as you sit there for a moment. It’s warm in the house, almost too warm now with your body warmed from sleep. Dr. Keller is sitting at the table, a steaming mug in front of her. Tea, most likely. Maybe coffee. You’re not quite sure. She gives you a soft smile as you rub a hand across your face.

You feel groggy as you push yourself up to stand, letting your stomach and feet guide you towards the smells coming from the kitchen. Kyle guides you to the table with a promise of making you a plate and you take your usual seat at the end of the table facing the kitchen. Dr. Keller is to your left this time, coffee in her mug judging by the smell.

“How did you sleep?” She asks, her hands wrapped around the mug.

“Fine. Got cold.” You say, resting your head in your hand.

“John turned the heat up a bit. We can get you more blankets if you need them.” Dr. Keller says.

You hum, letting your eyes close for a moment. You won’t complain about more blankets, more soft things to lay with. There is one thing you wish you had, though. You’re not quite sure how to ask for it, or that it would even be possible to get.

You jump when a hand touches your back, not realizing you had even dozed off sitting there.

“Sorry.” Kyle says, setting a plate on the table in front of you. “Food’s hot. You want coffee or tea.”

“Coffee.” You say instantly, earning a wide grin from Johnny as he takes his own seat at the table.

“Even split this morning.” He says cheekily, setting his own mug down. “Three against three.”

“Tea is still the superior choice.” Kyle says from the kitchen. “Better for you anyway.”

“Coffee has a lot of health benefits as well.” Dr. Keller says. “So long as you don’t add too much sugar into it.”

“See.” Johnny says, giving them a victorious grin.

“She said so long as you don’t put too much sugar in it.” Kyle says, carrying over your mug of coffee. “You’ll get diabetes from how much you add in.”

“Two spoonfuls isnae too much.” He turns to look at Dr. Keller. “Is it?”

Dr. Keller gives him a worried look. “You might be pushing it there.”

Johnny’s grin turns into a pout. “What do ye mean?”

A ghost of a smile tugs at your lips as you quickly shovel a forkful of eggs into your mouth. As much as the deep pain of betrayal still aches in your chest, as much as you still want to hate them, you have to admit you missed this. It’s the least tense you’ve seen all of them in the last few weeks. Even Dr. Keller’s shoulders don’t seem quite so squared as they have been.

A part of you feels guilty about it. It is your fault deep down. You’re the one keeping them all on edge, driving that wedge between them over and over again. Deep down you’re the one causing the heavy weight that’s settled over the house. You wish you could just go back to normal, you wish you could just wave a wand and make yourself okay again. You wish you could ease their pain just a little bit.

The eggs suddenly don’t taste quite so good anymore.

You force them down regardless in favor of causing another scene, in favor of dragging the mood down. They deserve a little lighthearted moment after everything. They don’t need to know the inner turmoil plaguing your mind.

Simon shifts next to you, his eyes darting to glance at your face. You can feel them, the intensity of his gaze just as sharp as it had been back in the beginning, back before he looked at you with fondness. He’s stiff as he sits there, almost as if he can sense the storm raging inside of you as you force yourself to pretend that you’re fine in favor of keeping the bright mood that’s settled over the table.

Maybe he can sense it. He is an alpha after all. It’s his job to know, to understand. You glance across the table at John, his eyes on his phone as he sips his tea.

Your gaze drops down to your plate as you pick up a piece of bacon, your heart shattering just a little bit more.

“‘S too early.” You whine as hands pull the blanket off of you. Cold air nips at your skin, making you curl up in a ball.

“It’s noon. Come on.” A hand closes around your arm, gently shaking you. “You want to get up.”

You let out a whine, pinching your face up. “No.”

“Trust me. It’ll be worth it.” Kyle says, brushing the hair back from your face.

“Why.” You say, letting out a huff.

“We’re going on a little trip.” Kyle pulls you up, forcing you into a seated position. “Dress warm.”

You’re alone in the room again, the door left open. Light streams in, making you squint against the harsh intrusion. A quick glance at the clock reveals it is, in fact, a little past noon. You took a nap to make up for a night of tumultuous sleep, one of the few things you have to do here in this prison. Nap and read. It’s a lot like your life before the cottage, before everything that happened, except now you’re stuck with your pack around you at all times.

You almost miss the times they were away.

You maneuver yourself so your legs dangle over the edge of the bed as you try to blink the drowsiness away. The nap hadn’t been nearly long enough, but judging by Kyle’s eagerness, they let you sleep a bit longer than they wanted.

You let out a sigh before pushing yourself off the bed, moving to the dresser. You pull out warm clothes, quickly changing. You have no idea what they have planned, what’s going on. There was no frantic rush, Kyle’s energy more excited than anything. It makes you a bit worried as you step out of the room into the living area.

They’re all waiting by the door, watching you as you approach them, rubbing your eyes.

“Come on,” John says, setting a pair of shoes on the floor. “Boots on.”

“What are we doing?” You ask, moving forward automatically.

“We’re taking a little trip.” Kyle answers.

You look at him cautiously as you step into the boots, pulling them on. You haven’t been away from the cottage since you arrived two weeks ago. You’ve barely been let outside, weather permitting. It’s an overcast day today, the world grey outside, but grey is better than rain.

“Ready?” John asks as you stare at him.

“I guess.” You say, still a bit hesitant.

They make no effort to ease your discomfort and nerves.

You’re led out the door and towards the cars by Dr. Keller. Her face is brighter than it has been lately which doesn’t help your nervous energy. She’s excited too, just like the rest of them. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous. Maybe it’s the anxiety of leaving after being trapped inside for so long. You just want to know where you’re going, what it is you’re going to be doing.

Dr. Keller ushers you into the back seat of one of the cars, getting in the other side. Kyle and John climb into the front while Johnny and Simon get into the other car.

You watch the green pass by as they drive, taking in the new landscape. You don’t remember arriving at the cottage. You don’t remember most of the trip at all. It’s all a blur in your memory, much like the events that transpired after your omega took over had been. You wish you could remember the trip over those events. You’d take green rolling hills over your own hands taking lives.

It had been jarring waking in the cottage for the first time. A new place, a lack of memories getting there. You’re beginning to get tired of the pattern. You half expect to fall asleep and wake up somewhere new again most nights. You wouldn’t know any better. A slip of a pill into some food and you’d wake up somewhere halfway across the world.

You like to think they’d at least warn you beforehand.

John pulls the car into a parking lot, parking near a line of trees. Johnny pulls into the parking lot behind John, parking near the entrance. It’s on purpose, you know that much. Everything is about safety and making things look as inconspicuous as possible. Anyone could be a rat. Anyone could be watching.

It’s windier here as you step out of the car, even though you haven't gone far from the cottage. Walking distance, if you were up for a hike. You’re not.

“Come on, kitten.” Johnny says, guiding you through the parking lot and towards a path.

You still don’t know what’s happening as you follow them, Johnny holding your hand as you step onto the rocky path. He leads the way, the others following. John is behind you, hovering in case you slip in the gravel. You do your best not to, despite how quickly Johnny is leading you. He’s more eager than Kyle had been, and you’re sure he’d be running if you could keep up.

You begin to figure out what’s happening as the sound of waves crashing on the shore gets louder and louder. Your chest starts to constrict with emotion as the trees start to get sparser and sparser, a cliff edge visible over Johnny’s shoulder. You want to run now, you want to break ahead and race your way to the edge of the cliff. Johnny, even in his excited state, would catch you before you could take off and potentially hurt yourself.

You might hurt yourself just trying to run.

You hate it.

The land opens before you as you reach the edge of the cliff. The expanse of the sea seems daunting so close, grey and choppy from the wind. Salty air blasts you in the face, rustling your jacket as you stand there above a small beach. It’s empty, but that’s expected for the middle of fall. All the tourists have gone home, those with vacation homes back in better weather for the winter.

You’re glad you’re alone. You wouldn’t want anyone else ruining this moment.

Kyle’s fingers wrap around yours as you stand there, staring down at the beach below. “Come on.”

The gravel turns to dirt as it winds down the side of the cliff, getting steeper as you near the beach. You do nearly slip as you follow Johnny down to the sand, your boots quickly getting muddy. You’re glad for them, understanding why John chose boots over more comfortable shoes.

You pause as your feet sink into sand. You stare out at the water, at the white crests of waves crashing onto the shore. It’s real. It’s not just some mirage, some painting in the background of your life. It’s really here. You’re really here.

No one says anything as you take a few steps forward before squatting down. You scoop up a handful of sand, letting it slip through your fingers. It’s coarse against your cold skin, thicker and rockier than the sand you’re used to, but it’s still sand. It’s still a beach.

You’re at the beach.

You scoop up another handful of sand, letting it run through your fingers again. You want to put some of it in a jar and set it on the nightstand at the cottage. You want to stare at it and remind yourself you’re really at the coast, you’re really just a short drive away from the sea. You want the sand to sink into your skin and flow through your veins and fill every crack that’s formed in your mind.

You’re really here.

You stand up straight, staring out at the water again. Your pack is still behind you, silently watching you. You shuffle forward a couple steps, waiting for one of them to stop you, to grab you and keep you from getting closer, but none of them move. You widen your steps, treading through the soft sand until you reach the edge of the wetter sand where the water was earlier. It’s easier to walk on as you continue to approach the water, the sound of your pack treading through the soft sand disappearing behind you as you get closer and closer to the water. The waves flow up the beach, your feet getting closer and closer to where that water stops.

You half expect them to stop you as you step forward, letting the waves hit your feet. The salty water washes away the mud and sand clinging to your rubber boots, rushing up over the tops of your feet. You stare down at the water, watching it surge upward and around your ankles. You’d keep walking if you were brave enough, let it get higher and higher until it soaked your clothes, but you know they’d stop you. It’s far too cold to risk getting wet. You can feel the chill of the water through your boots as it flows over your feet.

You’re not sure how long you stand there, watching the water rush back and forth, feeling the pressure of it against your boots as you stand in the waves. You’re really here. You’re really standing in the sea.

You finally turn after what seems like an eternity, making your way back up to the softer sand. All of them are standing in a line, watching you. You wonder what’s going through their heads, what they feel standing here. Relief? Happiness? Guilt? Shame? The wind whips at your back, coming right off the water, blowing their scents away from you. What you wouldn’t give to be able to smell them right now.

Tears burn your eyes as you make your way up towards John, trudging through the sand. His cheeks and nose are pink from the cold wind, his beard longer than you’ve ever seen it. You don’t remember the last time you’ve really looked at him up close. His gaze is uncertain as he stares down at you, trying to gauge your next move. He can’t. You know he can’t and it makes you feel powerful.

It shouldn’t, but it does.

“Thank you.” You say finally, a tear sliding down your cheek. “Thank you.”

You can hear them. They don’t know it, but you can. They think they’re speaking quietly, but in the silence of the morning, you can hear almost every word. Dr. Keller’s protests, John's quiet insistence.

Leaving.

That’s the word that caught your attention. Leaving. Someone is leaving. Someone is separating themselves from the pack again, and not just for a trip to town to go to the store. This meaning is different, it hangs differently in the air.

“I don’t think this is a good idea right now.” Dr. Keller says, her voice just barely audible through the open sliding glass door. It’s open just a crack, just enough to hear what’s transpiring inside.

“We won’t have another chance.” John says, his voice insistent. “We have to do this. She deserves it.”

She. You. Whatever it is, it involves you. It always does. You can’t remember a time over the last few weeks when it hasn’t been about you. It’s always about you and you hate it. You almost wish things would go back to the way they were before, when you were a second thought, the one left behind.

You’re going to be left behind again.

“John-”

“I know.” John’s voice is louder again. “We have to do what’s best for our pack, and right now this is it.”

The sliding door opens, the conversation over. Your stomach is churning, nausea eating its way up your esophagus as John crosses the deck towards where you’re seated. His steps are slow and quiet, almost like he’s approaching a wild animal. He might be, depending on how this conversation is going to go.

How are you going to react? You expected it eventually. They’ll always leave, they’ll always put you last and think about themselves first. Are you upset? Are you angry? Is it a relief?

You wish you could feel something right now. Instead you feel numb. Another promise broken, another lie told.

“You’re leaving again.” You say, staring out at the horizon as John takes a seat next to you. You need to get it out first, say what you know before he can say it and break your heart again.

He lets out a quiet sigh, leaning back in the chair. “We are, but you’re coming with us.”

You turn to glance at him, taken aback by his words. You’re leaving too? You hadn’t considered this. The cottage is your prison. You are Rapunzel trapped by the Mother Gothel that is your pack, stuck in the tower for the rest of time.

Leaving?

“There’s something we need to take care of back in the states.” John explains. “You’re coming with us.”

Back in the states? What could possibly be there that is left for you, for your pack?

You don’t like the sound of that. You don’t like the sound of that one bit.

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #poly 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #John price x reader #captain price x reader #Kyle gaz Garrick x reader #gaz x reader #Simon Riley x reader #Ghost x reader #Johnny mactavish x reader #soap x reader #a/b/o #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #omegaverse

1K notes · View notes

fastandcarlos · 1 month ago

Text

Fred’s Baby Girl : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: after being photographed looking more than comfortable, the fans soon learn that fred isn’t the only vasseur that charles is fond of…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by leclercgirl01, ferarriforthewin and 3,593 others

f1gossip: during the summer break, several photos have emerged of charles leclerc enjoying his holiday with the daughter of ferrari team principal fred vasseur. we’re uncertain if the pair were holidaying alone or with a group of friends, but either way they’re sure looking cosy 🏎️

731 comments

username1: watch them now try and convince us that they’re not dating 😂

username2: can’t wait to see fred’s reaction to this news…

username3: I did think yn was attending more races recently 🤔

username4: look at those smiles 🤩

username5: this was not on my bingo card for 2024

username6: I’m surprised how good they look together ngl

username7: can’t wait for charles to see fred after these pictures 😂

username8: I feel like fred is too soft for charles to be mad about this 🤨

username9: father fred and son charles era pending…

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liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 583,018 others

ynvasseur: another lovely weekend supporting the best team in f1 and cheering on charles and carlos ❤️

31,472 comments

username10: not yn pretending that she was there for both of the boys 😂

username11: notice how it’s charles’ garage that she posts tho

landonorris: omg just give the fans what they want yn 😫

username12: yn just pretending like nothing is even happening rn

pierregasly: I refuse to believe that pr didn’t have to approve this post first with how noncommittal it is 😂

ynvasseur: @/pierregasly I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about 🤷🏻‍♀️

username13: I don’t blame you girl, who could resist charles leclerc 🔥

charles_leclerc: it was lovely to see you in the garage this weekend 🥺

username14: wonder how close of an eye fred is keeping on her this weekend 😉

scuderiaferrari: it’s always a pleasure to have you with us yn ❤️

username15: stop leaving us in suspense, we promise we’ll be happy for you!!

carlossainz55: it’s always a joy to have you there and annoy you yn 😝

ynvasseur: @/carlossainz55 you do such a good job of it too 🙃

username16: charles keeping his reply pg but he’s not convincing any of us 😂😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charlesbbygirl, tifosi99 and 4,391 others

f1gossip: seemingly confirming their relationship, photos have been shared of charles and yn around the ferrari garage looking cosy together, not appearing to care who was around to see them, especially yn’s father fred!

519 comments

username17: how can these two people think they can convince us they’re single 😂

username18: poor carlos is officially the ferrari third wheel!

username19: that second photo makes me think he’s not seen fred yet 😂

username20: is anyone really sitting here thinking these two aren’t dating??

username21: I was at the paddock this weekend and every time I saw charles yn was right there with him too…

username22: can’t wait for boyfriend!charles to reappear once again!!

username23: they’re more than just cosy together ngl

username24: just me thinking this is sad how their privacy is getting completely invaded rn 🤯

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63 and 601,372 others

ynvasseur: did you really think the two of them wouldn’t still be the best of friends? oh, and congrats on the win too charles 😂❤️

58,381 comments

username25: forever my favourite principal and driver relationship 🥰

charles_leclerc: so happy you got to be there to see your first win of mine irl 💕

ynvasseur: @/charles_leclerc wouldn’t have missed it for the world 🫶🏻

username26: none of us ever thought fred would be anything other than your biggest fan ngl

pierregasly: do I now have to fight your dad too for the position of charles’ best friend???

username27: yn just confirming that fred gives them the green light like it’s no biggie ✅

georgerussell63: I never knew your dad had such a side like this in him 😂

ynvasseur: @/georgerussell63: he’s crazier than me I swear!!

username28: fred looks like such a proud dad 😭😭

carlossainz55: so glad I don’t have to listen to him moan about how scared he is to see your dad anymore 🤦🏻‍♂️

username29: where are you in all these photos we miss you with them!?

arthur_leclerc: now we’ve got fred’s approval I guess we can officially welcome you into the family 🤝

ynvasseur: @/arthur_leclerc can’t wait to meet you guys properly ❤️

username30: it’s funny to me that charles had to explain himself more to fred then any member of his actual family 😝

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 2,038,363 others

charles_leclerc: who knew fred wasn’t actually the coolest vasseur after all 😂 turns out it’s this one who makes me feel like I’m really winning at life 💞

318,059 comments

username31: these two were simply made for each other 🥹

arthur_leclerc: so you can take her on all these holidays but not bother to bring her home to meet us??

charles_leclerc: @/arthur_leclerc we’ll be there soon enough, don’t worry!

username32: I might’ve just shed a tear or two reading that caption

lewishamilton: I’m already on the back foot and not even joined the team yet now 😂

carlossainz55: and I thought it was being my teammate that made you feel like you were winning at life 💔

username33: yn must be pretty cool to be considered even cooler than her dad 😂

danielricciardo: you’ve for a girlfriend?? you should’ve mentioned it 😱

username34: they’re both equally as awesome as the other imo!!

pierregasly: does this now make you an honorary vasseur for life?

username35: it’s not fair how one person really can have it all 😭

ynvasseur: for the record I’m better than my dad at everything 😉

charles_leclerc: @/ynvasseur let’s get you behind the wheel of an f1 car and put that to the test??

ynvasseur: @/charles_leclerc I’d like to take back my original statement 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by iamrebeccad, charles_leclerc and 601,372 others

ynvasseur: let’s be honest, he never really needed to impress my dad anyway 🥹

49,473 comments

charles_leclerc: fred told me he adored me and I’m never gonna shut up about it 🥰

ynvasseur: @/charles_leclerc I’d crack a joke but I think he actually might prefer you to me 😬

username36: we all know charles is the favourite child deep down ☺️

oscarpiastri: charles does not stop talking about how amazing your dad is btw

ynvasseur: @/oscarpiastri he’s only doing that to make sure he keeps my dad on side!!

username37: the relationship these two have is the sweetest 🥹

carlossainz55: can confirm that this was definitely the case!

username38: I feel like it won’t be long before yn is actually third wheeling fred and charles instead

maxverstappen1: everyone in the paddock knows no one loves charles more than your dad 😂

username39: if I didn’t adore these two before, I definitely do now they’re together too

landonorris: you deserve a medal for putting up with him yn 😂

username40: these captions are honestly gold 🔥

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

1K notes · View notes

sukunasweetheart · 8 months ago

Text

slice of lifey vibes with trueform sukuna! youre like a servant-turned-girlfriend to him and dont mind me making it the clumsy girl trope sorry... lots of falling over and making a fool of yourself oops- mostly lighthearted, eventual romance, fluffy, very minor/implied smut. mentions of cannibalism, murder.

the warning of ooc sukuna goes without saying <3 hope u enjoy nonetheless <3

dividers by @/saradika, @/firefly-graphics and @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more

word count; 8.1k

how can someone be this useless?

its not uncommon that you trip over your own feet. the food you try to make always ends up charred and inedible. and anything that wounds up in your hands seem to either break or get misshapen. seriously, uraume considers you an eyesore.

very much like a stressed mother in law, they try to whip you up into shape to best please lord sukuna, but you can't do a thing right. goodness gracious.

there are only a handful of servants here at the lord's estate, mainly due to how he dislikes crowds and has a low tolerance for people in general, and will only accept a few for maintenance of his abode only. and yet, an awfully incapable and bumbling girl like you finds yourself at such a place. uraume wouldn't be surprised if lord sukuna lopped your head off one day, if he managed to catch sight of your silly mistakes.

the servants have very minimal contact with the lord. he's often out tormenting whomever challenges him on the battlefield, and even when he's home, none of you are brave enough to be loitering about in areas where he's currently present. uraume is the only one who usually speaks with him directly.

today, you've been reluctantly given the job of wiping down the floorboards of the engawa before the courtyard. you quite like this, because it's nice and sunny outside, and so you'll get to admire the butterflies while you work.

theres a pretty little pond with koi fish here as well, and you've been permitted to feed them some vegetable and seafood scraps, so you'll be doing that afterwards.

you've run up and down against the wooden flooring a couple of times with a rag, and soon enough, you get catch eye of a bright blue butterfly that flutters around the garden. you stand on the edge of the engawa, absorbed with the view. it's not everyday that you get to be here, after all. allegedly, this is lord sukuna's favourite spot to lounge about when he's home.

you get so distracted that you don't notice the intimidating presence behind you, even though he's a man whose aura bleeds all over the place, wherever he may be. sukuna looms over you and is silent as he ponders taking your head for annoying him by standing about in front of him like an airhead with an incredibly lacking sense of survival.

no, he shouldn't. he'd get more annoyed if your blood spilled over the floorboards, and he'd have to wait until the stench of your blood flees the area. however, before he can say a word of 'get lost', you manage to notice the shadow of the figure behind you.

you turn around and see him close up for the first time. a strange noise escapes your throat. you get so startled, your feet loses its balance, and you go backwards off the edge of the engawa. the dirty rag is thrown up in the air in a frenzy by accident as you try not to fall over.

thud! you're on your back on the garden floor. making haste, you frantically get into the position you were taught to get into by uraume, if you ever happened to come across lord sukuna by any chance. you kneel and lower your head until your forehead hits the ground.

and with such nice comedic timing, the dirty rag you'd thrown into the air falls directly onto the back of your head. you shut your eyes tightly and bite your lip in sheer embarrassment. you then realise that your humiliation is not what's really important right now. you might lose your life here.

perhaps you should apologise? are you even allowed to speak to him? what would you be apologising for, anyway? for breathing in the same direction as him? for not noticing him right away?

when uraume runs into the scene, what they witness is rather... unique. the useless servant girl on her knees and with a dirty rag on her head, trembling frantically. and lord sukuna, who seems to be viewing her with what seems to be mild amusement, and not annoyance.

"sukuna-sama... i apologise for any tardiness displayed by the servant. i didn't realise you would be coming here as soon as you came back."

usually, he enjoys a full meal before going out to the courtyard.

amongst your frantic thoughts, you almost tear up at the sound of that familiar voice. uraume-san! can they save you? i mean, sure, they only care about lord sukuna and him only, but surely they wouldn't want your blood to taint this perfect courtyard, right? especially when it's his favourite view!

"we shall accept any form of punishment you see fit for us."

we!? who's we?! you internally sob.

"it's fine."

a deeper voice responds. it's the first thing he's said since you noticed him.

"you can take her away. i'm going to stay here a while."

you hear the large man sit himself down.

"you. stand up and head back to your quarters."

you get up as quickly as you went down. the rag drops to the floor and you have to bend down to pick it up again with speed. you bow deeply again before following uraume out of the area. you can finally breathe again.

"consider yourself lucky. it seems sukuna-sama is in a pleasant mood today."

you later get scolded by uraume after you tearfully explained how you managed to get dirt all over your back and ended up with rag over your head.

meanwhile back in the courtyard, sukuna replays that scene of you in his head--of you turning around with eyes as wide as saucepans, something about you left an impression on him, and its not just because of way you made an absolute fool of yourself.

later, he comments to uraume about how you seemed a little different than the usual ones they pick to have as servants.

"shall i get rid of her? servants can always be replaced if you desire it, sukuna-sama."

"no, leave her. i was only curious."

uraume is left a little stunned. curious? over a mere servant girl? they are in no place to judge, but goodness, it's a rare thing for lord sukuna to be curious about somebody.

uraume has absolutely no qualms of disposing a person if they end up being no use to the lord. however, they never step out of line and act upon their own judgements alone. if there is someone who has piqued his interest, then uraume shall make sure that nothing interferes with their master's source of entertainment.

it's been a while again since you last saw lord sukuna. and you're quite thankful for it, after that humiliating first impression you gave him.

the days have been somewhat peaceful, with only the occasional grumbling from uraume, upset by your helplessness in preparing and cooking food, as usual. after multiple cuts and burns, they decided that you were not to come even a metre into the kitchen area.

that's fine by you, anyway. cleaning and sweeping while you hum your silly tunes is what you prefer.

night arrives with the moon hanging up brightly, like it always does. you think it's going to be another uneventful closure to the evening, but uraume soon appears at the servant's quarters, looking for you. they look a little uneasy. the very few other female servants whisper amongst themselves.

"sukuna-sama has requested for you. come with me."

oh...

you feeling like crying.

there is nothing that you can do. 'requested' so they may say, but everyone knows rejection means possible death. so you follow uraume outside.

walking with them in the corridor, every step feels like it's bringing you closer to disaster.

"uraume-san... what exactly is sukuna-sama requesting me for...?" you ask cautiously.

"i'm unaware know the details myself. but he's in the middle of a bath. perhaps there's a splatter of blood he can't reach on his back."

yes, but why has he chosen me out of all people?!

but you know better than to question such orders. your hands become clammy with sweat.

you reach the bath area too quickly for your liking, and uraume ushers you inside without further concern for your wellbeing. their only concern is hoping that you don't do anything to displease the lord.

lord sukuna sometimes has a tendency to act upon his own whims, but even uraume was surprised when he suddenly asked for the servant girl he met in the courtyard...

the warmth of the misty steam inside caresses your face gently and also makes your kimono stick to you uncomfortably... making you sweat even more.

lord sukuna is sitting in his oversized, wooden bathtub wordlessly, his back turned to you. splashes of crimson against his skin, just as uraume had said. you take a quiet, deep breath.

kneeling before him as per protocol, you bow your head, despite the floors being soggy with water.

"sukuna-sama. how may i assist you this evening?"

the eyes on the side of his distorted face dart down to look at you.

"it's fairly obvious, isn't it? wash the blood away."

"right away."

you stand up straight, and it was apparently too fast for your poor blood pressure, getting you dizzy momentarily. foolishly so, you still decide to take a few steps with haste on the wet, slippery floor. with a loud yelp, you slip and land on your bottom. you want to scream.

"i-i apologise..." you say tearfully, getting back up.

"...not a dull moment with you, as i figured." he uses a tone of mockery.

there's a hint of a chuckle in his voice, and you're only glad he's amused rather than annoyed at your stupidity. your backside hurts again. it hasn't even been that long since the bruises stopped hurting from the last time you fell over!

you grab a cloth to start scrubbing the man down, holding back your tears. the metallic scent is prominent, and your mind begins to wander about exactly whose blood you were currently wiping away into the bathwater. you try not to think about it too much.

it's not new information that lord sukuna kills mercilessly, and even feasts on humans should he feel like it. you've seen the types of "ingredients" uraume has used in the kitchen at times, and the blood that paints the bottom of the sink. these were all things you needed to get used to seeing and knowing as a servant at this estate.

you keep your face stern as you clean him down delicately, thoroughly. the damp, warm cloth runs along the muscles on his back, neck and shoulders. you squeeze out the blood and dip it back in clean water, before wiping again. he has a delightfully toned body, with many tattoos. and more muscles than you could ever count. you take note of the neck tattoos that resemble the lines on a butterfly's wings. it draws you in, but you have to make sure you don't get too distracted.

you notice there's some blood on his hand as well. you move towards it and clean it down, gentle in the way you go over each finger. you're holding hands with him inevitably as you have to lift it up, and this makes you realise how large this man is. your hand seems almost like a child's in comparison to his. there's something rather exhilarating, yet also terrifying about this size difference.

the hairs on the back of your head rise, for some reason. you notice how his big red eyes are boring into you from the edge of your vision. you feign ignorance and focus on cleaning.

time passes in haste as you finish wiping down the last spot of visible blood from the lord's body.

"all the blood has been cleaned away, sukuna-sama," you tell him.

"is that so?" he asks, looking down at his own body. "but there's a spot left over here," he objects, pointing to the side of his neck, vaguely.

"i- i'm sorry, i must have missed that area. i shall clean it immediately-"

you crane your neck to look towards where he was pointing, your face getting closer to his. the place he mentioned is clean. no blood in sight. you meet his eyes. his lips curl upwards, seemingly pleased.

"finally, you look this way," he says, capturing your gaze.

you freeze on the spot, face heating up.

"your... your neck seems clean... sukuna-sama," you respond quietly, unable to think of anything else to say.

"i was only teasing. was it not apparent?" he smirks at you, and you feel that your heart may burst any second now. from either fear or excitement. or both.

"pardon me. i should have noticed sooner," you say, moving your face away from his.

"...i digress. where's the fun in that? just remain gullible for me."

he flicks your forehead, making you whisper 'ouch!' under your breath.

"understood?"

"yes, my lord."

without further conversation, he stands up to his full height, the water droplets racing down against his skin. you hurriedly grab some towels for him... doing your best to avoid looking at his... ahem. when you hand over the towels, your eyes are shut tight. sukuna gives a deep chuckle.

"silly girl."

since the bath, lord sukuna has developed a tendency to call you over during unpredictable moments, and for unpredictable errands. then, he disappears again for a while. and merely moments before you get too comfortable without his presence around you, he returns to repeat it all over again.

recently, he's taken towards looking for you himself, rather than asking uraume about your whereabouts. it scares the other servants when he barges into their spaces, but he pays them little mind.

this afternoon, he finds you sweeping down the leaves away at the front of the estate, humming to your heart's content.

"i come to check what's making all that noisy ruckus... only to find out that it's you."

your whole body goes stiff at the voice, and you reflexively try to get on your knees, but he stops you.

"keep your head up," he commands you.

"your face is worth gazing at, after all," he adds, albeit under his breath.

the compliment doesn't even register into your head as you immediately stand back up, broom in hand. you thank him for the pardon.

"are you done with the sweeping, yet?" sukuna suddenly asks, looking around with his arms crossed. well-- one pair of them, at least.

"not yet, sukuna-sama. but only a little bit to go," you respond with honesty.

"come to my chambers with a plate of fruits and a knife with you, once you're done. don't take too long."

after that, he promptly takes his leave without further explanation. you stand still for a moment, as you always do. every interaction you have with him leaves you in a bit of a daze. often, you wonder if he's a part of your daydreams.

you shake your head and continue to sweep, silently, this time around. don't take too long, he had ordered.

after you're done with that, you make your way into the kitchen on your tiptoes. you wonder if uraume would believe you, if you were to tell them that you're entering upon sukuna's own request.

but once you make your appearance to the entrance of the kitchen, uraume is already there, ready with a tray with a plate of assorted fruits on it. and a knife sitting next to the plate. the sight of the sharp utensil makes you feel nervous, somewhat.

you take the tray without a word, and head towards the lord's chambers.

three sharp knocks.

"sukuna-sama. i've come with the items you sought for. may i come in?"

"you may."

you slide the door open, and sukuna is there, waiting on the tatami mat while holding a kiseru in his hand. once you enter, he sets it aside after one more puff.

"put it here," he points towards the empty space in front of him.

you place the tray down where he gestured towards, and then sit yourself in front of him. there's a moment of silence as you flicker your gaze from looking at him, to the fruit before you.

"well? what are you waiting for? prepare it for me."

oh, no. you had prayed with every ounce in your body, that he wouldn't request for such a thing, but of course it didn't work. now, you have to display your terrible cutting skills to the very head of this estate.

hands trembling, you reach out for the knife and pick up a peach from the plate. you make a cut towards the seed in the middle. then, you cut diagonally to get one slice out. sukuna opens up his hand, waiting for you to place it in the middle of his palm. you do so, and the piece looks so pathetically tiny that you almost feel ashamed.

"faster," he demands, with a small smile on his face.

you swallow thickly, and try to speed up your cutting. the pieces get more and more jagged and unsightly. but sukuna doesn't display any signs of anger or annoyance.

"such poor knife skills. no wonder uraume left you to do the cleaning only. is that really the best you can do?" he taunts you, laughing through his nose.

"i'm afraid so... i apologise for my lack of skills, sukuna-sama," you confess, trying not to make your lower lip wobble from the anxiety and dejection. did he bring you here just to mock the way you cut fruits?! your brows furrow in determination and you try harder.

after the peaches, you grab a persimmon. they're trickier to prepare, since you have to carefully peel the skin off them as well. you purse your lips.

things go somewhat smoothly at first, but then you start to slip up again. it's slippery, and the blade of the knife slices through your thumb.

"ah-" a small noise leaves your lips and you watch as a drop of your blood runs down your palm. sukuna matches your gaze and narrows his eyes at the same scene.

"such a helpless, troublesome woman."

he grabs your wrist and slowly brings your thumb to his mouth. your eyes widen, and you're speechless as you watch him run his tongue up the trail of your blood and then suck on the small incision on your thumb.

you're like a steaming kettle, with the way your blood rushes through your veins, temperature rising with how flustered you are. sukuna looks at you with your finger still in his mouth.

"su-sukuna-sama... you needn't do such a thing-"

a shiver runs down your spine when you feel his tongue swirl around your wound. he then releases it from his mouth, with a smirk, still holding onto your wrist.

you retract your hand suddenly, due to an indescribable feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. you then begin to fear that snatching your hand away like that might've offended him.

"my apologies, sukuna-sama! if you will excuse me-!"

you stand up and run, and he lets you scurry away, with the same sweet, arrogant grin on his face. down the hallway, he hears you trip over yourself before exiting. it makes him chuckle.

you're a fun way to pass time, when he's not slaughtering millions on the battlefield.

back in your own quarters, you lean yourself against a wall and pant, being out of breath. what had just happened? he... he licked the wound on your finger. and that did something to you. your insides feel all squirmy.

you look down at your thumb, only to realise that the cut has mysteriously disappeared.

after running away from sukuna abruptly like that, you had expected to uraume to chase you up and drag you to him, where you'd be executed for fleeing. but it never happens.

in fact, you haven't seen him again for a while. however this time around, his absence does nothing to keep you relaxed, as you're always on your toes, not knowing when he'd next make an appearance before you. you wonder what he will do to you next, when he does come back sooner or later.

before you can drown in those concerns of yours, uraume sends you outside to hang some laundry out in the sun. some white sheets, freshly washed. you struggle a bit, to carry the large bucket of sheets out to the yard.

the laundry line is a bit high, so you need to grab a small stool as well to successfully get the sheets over it. the wind is gentle, and the sunlight pours endlessly from the skies. truly a perfect day to dry the laundry outside.

the sheets are large, so you find it difficult to squeeze the moisture out by yourself, but you suppose they will eventually dry anyway, thanks to the nice weather. you smile as the cool breeze runs through you, making you feel pleasant.

from afar, sukuna observes this scenic view of you, surrounded by the pure white of the swaying sheets around you, smiling as the wind jostles your hair slightly and the sun accentuates your features rather beautifully.

he walks towards your light.

you're busy trying to hang another sheet on the second line this time. you wish the stool was a tad bit taller. this is rather challenging. even standing on top of it, you need to get on your tippy toes to reach properly. and it doesn't help that the water-weight makes the cloth heavier...

a large hand brushes aside the sheet that covers you from view, startling you. you nearly topple over, but a pair of strong arms catch you, keeping you standing upright.

"how ridiculous. don't you get tired of doing that every time?" he sighs. his second pair of arms are crossed, while the first pair hold you so warmly.

"i'm sorry..." you mumble, staring at him with wide eyes. it's like he appeared out of your thoughts. could this perhaps be a daydream of yours? he fixes your stance so that you can stand on the stool properly again. despite your height boost from this stool, sukuna is still a bit taller than you.

"it feels strange, having you meet me eye-to-eye like this..." sukuna comments, while staring down at you curiously.

and it does feel strange, being almost at his height. how close you feel to him now. maybe this offends him.

"i shall get down immediately," you tell him respectfully, trying to get off the stool. his arms come around again to keep you still.

"ack-!"

"tch. don't overreact. i didn't mean it that way," sukuna mutters, tutting at you.

you stand stiffly with your hands by your sides as he inspects you, anxious yet also excited to find out what his intentions are this time around. every touch he lands on you makes you skin jump, in an intoxicating way.

you focus your vision particularly on the odd looking side of his face. it looks like it has a strange texture. would it still be skin? you want to try and touch it. and... his extra eyes look cute. you gasp at yourself for having such disrespectful thoughts about him. all four of his eyes then focus on your face, as if to notice your gaze, and you feel as though your heart may leap out of your throat. there's a part of sukuna that makes you question whether he can read your mind or not.

"you're curious about this face of mine, are you?" he asks, while smiling.

your jaw hangs open in shock, and you don't know whether to tell him that he's correct or to apologise for your insolence.

"what a strange expression you're making," he chuckles, "so easy to read."

it's not that he can read minds, it's only because you're openly letting yourself known to him, whether you're aware of it or not. transparent, like a perfectly pristine and delicate glass cup. shall he leave his fingerprints on you? shall he leave some cracks in that fragile vessel of yours?

his hands come off your body, and you have to concentrate to keep your balance on the stool, no longer being able to rely on his hold to stand still.

"continue with your duties. i shall call for you later," sukuna states sternly, looking off at the sheets that still wave gently in the wind.

"you didn't squeeze out enough water. it's dripping," he points out the soaking wet ends of the sheets.

you practically jump off of the stool and get to work. in the meantime, the lord has disappeared again. you look into the distance to catch a glimpse of him if you can, but he's nowhere to be seen.

and he never got around to clarifying about what happened to his face. perhaps that's a clear sign to mean that he's not interested in talking about his past.

upon finishing the laundry in completion, you make your way to the kitchen, due to the time being close to serving the lord's evening meal.

the other servants and uraume included, are running around to prepare his dinner to perfection, as usual. for the most part, you're left with nothing to do at these times since none of them trust you with handling the food.

lord sukuna did say he was going to call for you later. you wonder if you'll be able to help bathe him again. or if this time, he'll make you do something different. you're plagued with such daydreams as the servants bustle about behind you.

by the time the busy period finalises, the moon hangs high up amongst the stars, and the darkness of night consumes all. and yet, he still hasn't requested for you at all. you suppose when he said he'd call for you later, he perhaps meant tomorrow or the day after. you never know with the lord. trying to navigate him is like trying to look through the murky depths of the ocean at night.

right when you were about to return to your quarters with everyone else, uraume suddenly approaches you.

"sukuna-sama wishes to see you. make your way to the courtyard now."

your stomach starts stirring once again.

the courtyard is beautiful, even at night. sukuna sits in the now moonlit area, drinking from a sake cup in a languid manner.

it takes courage to speak up behind him.

"did you wish to see me, my lord?"

sukuna turns slightly to the side to look at you, before facing the front again.

"...come. pour me another glass, will you?"

"certainly."

as you pour him more of the crystal clear wine, you have to stay vigilant in order to not accidentally splash any of the expensive liquid outside of the cup from your shaky hands.

tonight, the lord's gaze rests not on you, but on the moon above. you watch along with him. there is nothing but silence in the first few moments you have with him together.

"the moon is beautiful tonight," he finally says, while taking another sip of his sake.

is it normal for one to be envious of the moon? even so, thanks to the moon, you are able to see him bathed in its light, making him look almost ethereal.

"yes it is, sukuna-sama," you agree with him.

there's another momentary silence between the two of you, before you bring up a sudden question.

"...do you enjoy watching the moon often?"

"not often, but at times. it would get boring if i did it everyday."

like almost everything else in life.

"i see. that is most understandable."

the chirping of crickets is audible within the garden, and you pour him another glass of his sake after he finishes his previous cup.

you look up at the black canvas of a sky, littered with specks of white all across it. it's easy to get lost in the sight. and much more comfortable than looking at something like the sun, which could burn the delicate areas of your eyes. you begin to get immersed in the view, and your previous train of thoughts ebb away.

you don't notice the way sukuna has stopped gazing at the sky. he's watching you, instead.

"you must know by now... that i favour you more than the other servants," sukuna brings up carefully.

you stop staring up, and turn around slowly to blink at the man.

"...is- is that true, my lord?" you ask, wondering if he really means that. you don't want to get ahead of yourself.

his brows furrow. how dim-witted can you be?

"perhaps actions will speak better than words."

that phrase alone makes your heart feel like it could leap out of your throat.

"sit closer to me."

you swallow dryly, and shuffle closer to the larger man. he sets his cup down beside him, and brings you even closer to him. his hand holding your waist. sitting with him, hip to hip.

sukuna begins to lean his face down closer to yours. your hands grab your own kimono in tight fists, questioning the reality of this scene, feeling skittish yet also giddy, all at the same time.

"don't run away, this time. i won't allow it."

the way his breath ghosts over the skin of your face, how close his voice is to your ears, sends goosebumps all the way down to your legs. is he going to kiss you? can you handle that?

his lips reach yours, and the softness of them is unreal. this must be a dream. he tastes of the rice wine was sipping on before, and he's doused in the same moonlight as you are, and he's now kissing you. a mere servant.

your ears pound with your own heartbeat, and your hands grip onto your kimono so tightly that it's bound to leave wrinkles behind. they shake slightly. sukuna's large hand comes over one of them, and grabs your wrist delicately.

"relax", he's telling you.

and so, you share your first kiss with him, under the moonlight.

quite a bit of time has passed since that day.

you could say that nothing much has changed - you still have your duties as a servant, and the lord still leaves his home vacant for periods of time.

however, on days when he has returned...

you gently sway your legs that hang off the edge of the engawa, on the very same courtyard as that fateful night. sukuna lays his head on your lap, eyes closed and completely at rest, both sets of his arms relaxed as the breaths he takes are slow.

your hand is unable to stray far from the soft bed of his hair, fingers combing through the peach-coloured strands, nails raking against his scalp with the right amount of strength, the way he loves. he gives the occasional purr when you go over his favourite spots.

it's odd, when merely a few weeks ago, you had trouble initiating these harmless touches without explicitly asking for permission beforehand.

"sukuna-sama, may i touch your hair?"

"would it be alright if i could hold your hand, sukuna-sama?"

"may i press a kiss against your cheek, my lord?"

you giggle to yourself as you remember his response to your endless series of questions and requests.

"tch... quit asking me about every little thing. just do it. i'll let you know if i don't like it."

and from then on, you've been bravely placing your hands on him whenever you wanted. and he hasn't been displeased by you, as of yet.

you freely caress the side of his face that you would describe as... unique. you're always curious about the nature of it, even now. but you don't invasively ask questions. you wonder if you'll ever feel brave enough to, one day.

his larger eyes open up narrowly in an abrupt manner, and they squint at you. it makes you nervous, in the way that heart fluttering way. you never get used to the feeling of being under his intense gaze.

red, with ringed irises. you've started to enjoy this colour more ever since you started to meet his eyes more often. you stare back at him but, oh- he's closed them up again.

your hand continues to softly caress him.

sukuna remains mellow, not really falling asleep, but also not in a state of full alertness. your lap serves as a great pillow.

this continues, until suddenly your touches become slower and more distracted. and he can tell your attention has been divided to something else.

the dismayed lord cracks open one eye to check what might have served as a distraction to you.

a butterfly...?

your eyes follow the pretty blue creature, landing on the flora of the garden, in it's carefree nature. a small smile blooms on your face and your hand's movements dwindle, which should displease him. he could cleave the thing into little bits, and let its remains scatter the lush garden.

but, he doesn't. sukuna lets you indulge in these small moments of joy, simply because he's gotten rather softhearted. he doesn't enjoy seeing you get upset at him. though he has control over you as your lord, his hand can't extend all the way to your heart and mind.

(and may the world burst into flames if you ever end up disliking him.)

he recalls... you were also staring at a butterfly the day he first met you, weren't you? so distracted that you didn't notice his presence. he doesn't understand your affection for such a fragile creature.

but...he supposes that he's the same.

what came over him, that he wound up caring for a silly woman like you?

as if to reaffirm your concept of being 'silly', you suddenly give a small sneeze, facing away from the front. his head gets jostled in your lap, which makes him frown and sigh.

"my apologies, sukuna-sama... perhaps it was due to the pollen from the garden..." you give your excuse sheepishly.

well, no matter. he'll keep you with him for as long as he desires. perhaps he can use your butterfly-infatuation to his advantage.

not long after, once the sun dips over the horizon and the area becomes a little chilly, sukuna decides he wants to take a bath before the day comes to an end. and you'll be coming along, of course.

...by now, you've been with him in the bath area at least a dozen times before.

nevertheless, you never seem to get used to seeing him in his naked glory.

sukuna is sitting in his tub, and you're running a warm, wet cloth over his shoulders, scrubbing lazily. he was already quite clean enough today, in your opinion.

a feeling of deja vu hits when your gaze falls onto the tattoo on the back of his neck. you remember having such a thought before. though it's not the strongest resemblance, you see it regardless.

without much resistance, you give in to the desire, and bring your lips to the area to give him a small kiss. it takes him by slight surprise.

"the tattoo on your neck resembles the lines on a butterfly's wings, sukuna-sama. it looks elegant, and wonderful," you tell him.

...he is not displeased with that comparison, strangely enough.

"is that so? no wonder i've felt your stare on it multiple times before," sukuna responds.

you never realised that he'd caught onto that. were you always staring that prominently? you continue wiping him down with the warm cloth, feeling a bit shy all of a sudden.

sukuna thinks for a moment.

"how about you join me in here, tonight?" he asks, out of the blue.

"p-pardon?!"

"quit acting so timid. go on, get yourself cleaned. i'm waiting."

you feel your face heat up at the thought of being... naked with him. anxiousness starts running through your body. you wonder if he really means it, or if he's trying to fluster you again. your lack of action causes him to raise an eyebrow.

"what, you don't want to?"

"no, no! i do, my lord! i'm just... a bit taken aback."

you spring into action. heart pounding as you shed your clothes. he doesn't turn his head or peek at you from where he sits, but your eyes dart to him to check anyways. you clean and rinse yourself adequately, with shaky hands.

"shall i lend a hand in scrubbing your back?" sukuna suddenly calls out. there is sarcasm in his tone.

"that wouldn't be necessary, my lord... i can do it myself..." you respond bashfully.

you only pray that you don't slip over on the way to the tub.

when you do eventually finish up, you walk carefully towards him. walking past where he sits, you reach the other side of the tub. you avoid his eyes as you enter at a slow pace, arms making an effort to cover your breasts. you're finally seated in the same tub as him. the water is steaming, and it's quite deep. still, you hang on to the edge and keep yourself a little distanced from sukuna.

"aw come on. it was mere moments ago that you kissed the back of my neck. so shy all of a sudden?"

"that- that was a different situation, sukuna-sama..."

"the only difference now is that we're both nude," he shrugs.

"nevermind that...the water looks a little deep for you," he says, almost mockingly so- "come. i'll let you on my lap."

you cannot tell whether he is only teasing, or if he actually wants you on his lap.

"quickly- don't run my patience thin."

you make your way towards him without further hesitation.

sitting on his lap, you find that he's oddly comfortable. an arm of his loops around your waist, holding you tight against him, as if to prevent you from running away.

the lord takes your hand and caresses it between his thick fingers. your back leans against his bare chest and abs as you relax yourself more. you wonder if the mouth on his stomach doesn't feel uncomfortable when you sit against it like this.

sukuna's extra arms begin to get more and more handsy with you. you feel his large palms on your breasts, squeezing the flesh gently. not that you find it unpleasant, but it makes you feel all squirmy and restless and hot. when he touches your chest like that, you can't help but turn your head slightly to give him a needy look. it makes him lean down and kiss you warmly.

his tongue explores your mouth in a thorough manner, encouraging a growing heat inside of you. you start gripping his hand harder, though you doubt he feels a thing from it.

when lord sukuna kisses you, you can't tell whether time is passing too quickly, or too slowly. you lose the ability to think of anything else, other than his soft lips and his rough tongue. and you believe that he's aware of this fact himself. why else could he be smiling against your lips like he is right now?

you don't know how long you'd kissed him for in that bathtub. but by the time you stepped out of it, your hands were wrinkly from the prolonged moisture.

and you came out with... feelings of unsatisfaction. rather than getting a little further than kissing, sukuna had stopped abruptly and told you with a smirk that he was ready to get back to his chambers now.

upon getting dressed again, you linger awkwardly around the man, wanting more but not knowing how to inform him of it. the lord looks at you keenly.

"well? aren't you going back to your chambers?" he asks with a sly undertone.

"...i would like to escort you to your room... my lord," you tell him, averting his gaze.

"oh? i don't recall needing an escort, when my room's right around the corner. but if you insist." you can't see what kind of expression he's wearing right now, but you imagine he's smiling at you teasingly. like he always does.

you trail behind him as he walks over to his chambers.

for sure, it doesn't take long until he reaches his room. sukuna slides open the door and makes his way to his large futon in the middle of the tatami floor. he makes himself comfortable, and lays on his side while you watch him from outside his room.

"you're still here. well? are you planning on tucking me into bed next?" he asks with his usual mockery, chuckling through his nose.

you frown cutely, feeling a deep sense of unfairness in the pit of your stomach.

"i was just about to leave, sukuna-sama," you respond a bit haughtily, getting bold with him.

"is that so. then run along," he ushers you, following that with a big yawn. your frown gets deeper.

you begin to slowly close his door, but then stop when it's only cracked open slightly. you brace yourself for the request you are about to make.

"sukuna-sama... could i sleep beside you, tonight?" you ask meekly.

his lips curl up similarly to that of a cheshire cat. finally, you're getting honest with him. he loves the feeling of having you run about in the palm of his hand.

"i thought you said you were going to leave?"

"please...?" you muster your best puppy eyes.

the lord smirks again, and eventually beckons you in with his index finger. you perk up, and step into his room with excitement, running into his futon like a dog, tail wagging from the happiness of being with its owner.

"you're like a silly mutt. foolish, but cute. i like the way you beg for my affection."

you're not sure on how to feel about being compared to a mutt, but you suppose it's not the worst comparison in the world.

"woof," you say quietly, shuffling closer to him. he laughs deeply at you. from your tight embrace with him, you feel the vibrations from his chuckling against his chest.

...there's always something hot or warm about sukuna.

his whole presence feels like a roaring fire at times, burning with his strength and charisma - the flames and temperature threatening to scald anyone around him.

but,

right here, when you're in his arms, the fire becomes tame. still an unrelenting and strong flame, but something more controlled and comfortable to be around.

you close your eyes with a smile, satisfied with this outcome.

"oi. i don't recall saying you could sleep yet."

that makes your eyes bolt open with confusion. sukuna furrows his brows and grabs your face, squishing your cheeks together.

"you're in my futon, and all you can think about is sleeping? i don't know how to feel about that."

"oh... was there something else you wanted from me, sukuna-sama?"

he looks further displeased by your question and suddenly grabs both your wrists, pinning them above your head. you gasp, surprised by his sudden shift in mood.

"we should continue with where we left off, shouldn't we?"

another hand comes up to hold your neck gently for a moment, before he slides it down slowly to your chest, the warmth from his palm trailing with it, reaching your clothed breasts, making your head spin with arousal.

"were you not anticipating something like this? when you asked to stay the night beside me."

he leans down and presses his lips against the space just below your ear, making you shudder. he likes this reaction, and continues kissing down your neck.

"s-sukuna-sama..."

"what a lewd tone you're using with my name. i hope you're prepared for the consequences of that."

he overtakes your senses with another searing hot kiss. hands clawing away at your kimono. teasing touches to your chest. his flames are threatening to envelop you, producing yet another unique kind of heat.

but you've never welcomed anything else more in your life. you'd gladly burn to ashes if it means being so close to your lord, your light.

...it's safe to say that you woke up the next morning with more bruises and bite marks than the number of fingers you have on your hands. and the lord lays beside your exhausted frame, aimlessly curling a lock of your hair around his finger with a satisfied grin on his face.

during one quiet afternoon, uraume beckons you towards them.

"i've been ordered to dress you lavishly. come with me."

you follow them without question, wondering what the sudden occasion could be. lord sukuna has left for the battlefield once again, so he's been missing for a couple of days. is he due to come back this evening?

such hopes fill your mind.

you stand awkwardly as uraume fits a rather elegant and expensive, but beautiful looking kimono onto you. it feels odd. you could even say you feel a bit guilty; in what world would someone dress a servant so extravagantly? nonetheless, you accept the treatment with silence. you get lost in your own daydreams, while uraume prepares you for whatever's been arranged for you.

by the end of it all, they angle you to face the mirror properly, their hands placed on your shoulders.

"it's complete. feel free to take a look at yourself."

you turn your face to one side, and then the other, all while keeping your eyes on the mirror. you look... stunning.

"th-thank you..." you tell uraume, quite speechless.

"please withhold that gratitude for lord sukuna. he was the one that arranged for this, after all."

you're then told to wait at the courtyard, for the lord's return. tingles of excitement run through your veins, and reaches the tips of your fingers, at having your hopes confirmed. he's due to return tonight.

quite a bit of time passes. yet, no signs of him coming back yet. you swing your legs back and forth languidly over the engawa, looking up at the sky aimlessly. though you shouldn't be doing such a thing when you've been fitted with a lovely kimono, there's no one around to scold or stop you from your usual habits.

you sigh, wondering when he'll be back. your eyes wander around the garden, this time. under the moonlight, there's a singular butterfly that flutters about, appearing in good timing as if to help cure your boredom.

you step out onto the grass and approach it, lending out a finger towards it to see if it decides to land on your hand. it takes a bit of effort, but after some gentle movements and patience, it eventually stops to linger on your index finger for a while. it allows you to admire every ridge, and all the patterns on the wings in better detail. you wonder whether you'll ever get another opportunity to observe a butterfly so closely again in the future.

a few footsteps resound behind you, getting you startled. when your body moves slightly from the scare, the butterfly flees and seemingly disappears out of sight.

yet, right now, you have no room to feel disappointed by a mere butterfly.

sukuna is smirking at you from a distance, looking very pleased with the way you're dressed for him. he steps down and walks into the garden as well, approaching you languidly, one arm concealed under the sleeve of his kimono.

"welcome back, sukuna-sama. i've been awaiting for your return," you greet him, smiling.

"were you now? missed me that bad?" he asks, reaching out to caress your cheek.

"yes, my lord. i missed you so much. not a day goes by where i don't think about you."

"why, how sweet...perhaps you deserve a reward for your honesty."

"a reward...?" your eyes grow wide and you start getting embarrassingly overjoyed at the idea of a reward given to you by the lord himself.

"so eager. you seem like you're truly getting committed to playing the role of a mutt."

you try to change your expression in haste, but you end up looking more bashful than anything. sukuna laughs at another one of your strange expressions.

"i'm only teasing."

he then pulls his arm out of his sleeve, revealing something you never thought you'd see in his hands.

a hairpin... specifically, one with a large blue butterfly on it. embedded with pretty jewels, and shaped to perfection. it would've been something difficult to obtain. for someone who's always busy creating chaos, when would he have had the time to find such a thing amongst everything else?

"i thought you would enjoy having something like this. do you like it?"

"oh... like would be an understatement, sukuna-sama. i adore it. is it really for me?"

"who else could have it? don't ask foolish questions."

it could only ever belong to you.

he places the pin into your hair, graceful and elegant with his hands. it makes you feel overjoyed. heat rises to your cheeks and they hurt from how much you're smiling.

"not bad at all. it was worth obtaining."

your hand rises to where the hairpin is, and you touch it gently, letting your fingertips feel the texture of the pin and it's butterfly pattern.

"am i... am i pretty, my lord?" you ask sheepishly, looking up at him with your doe eyes.

he's smiling at you rather gently, his eyes mirroring your reflection within them as he gazes down at you in silence. his lack of a verbal response almost makes you nervous, however.

sukuna reaches out to hold your hand, and pulls you closer towards him. he's glad that nobody else is around, for he's certain they would've also felt so drawn to you, like he is right now.

he palms your cheek again, before letting his thumb brush over your lips delicately.

you never sever your gaze from him, continuing to await his reply.

"... you're beautiful,"

he finally relents.

sukuna then presses his lips against yours, underneath the moon's blessing. once again, and forevermore.

fin.

Masterlist

#sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #soft sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you

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beloveds-embrace · 18 days ago

Note

DUKEDOM!141 AND MY LIFE IS YOURS 🙏🙏🙏🙏 (/nf please and thank you :])

Original post

Enjoy!! :D

Something all of them like to do is doll you up, and it becomes almost a private little routine between you and them.

John, as your husband (can you tell I love referring to him like this?), steadily takes control of deciding what you wear for the day even long before your request. It’s something that just… happens. He comes into your bedroom early in the mornings, and your maids scatter away to leave you both be with little giggles, excited at the prospect of you two finally getting ‘close’.

John doesn’t care for them. He greets you with a soft good morning (a few weeks later, he’d greet you the same but would gently caress your face with the back of his hand, the touch so gentle despite his roughened skin. It makes you into a blushing mess, though you tell yourself it’s just so that the peeking maids won’t suspect anything) and then goes straight to your closet, sweeping through the rows and rows of delicate, soft dresses with a discerning eye to select what attire you’ll wear for the day.

Of course, he does ask you what you feel like wearing, how you feel today in general, where you plan on going or meeting- everything to ensure the dress he’ll choose for you would be perfect. John doesn’t wait to see you in the dress, though.

He knows he’ll be seeing you all adorned and dressed up later, when you come down to dine with him. He can compliment you and pat himself on the back, then.

If he makes sure to match his cufflinks with the colors you are wearing, it will simply make whoever notice it think you two are such a lovely couple. And he still hopes that your maids will accidentally not tighten or cover up your hemline just so he can fix it himself for you.

John aside, Kyle takes care of your hair and jewelry. He makes you sit on the vanity, still alone and with none of your maids around, and then he begins the tender ritual of brushing your hair (if it’s not too curly for daily brushings). His hands, warm and careful and gentle, would then take care of oiling each strand. No oils or butters have been spared in the efforts of tending to you, and Kyle himself often turns the routine into a simple, but so effective, head massage session for you.

(Later, Kyle wonders what he needs to say and do to take over the job of the maids who help you bathe. You are always complimenting how good his hands feel on your hair, and he can show you how much better he is at using them for your body.)

Johnny eventually begins doing your makeup, on certain occasions. Once the truth comes out, the two of you are closer, and on one night, he tells you about his big family, his sisters and how they’d make him and his brothers help them get ready for events and parties.

It’s a simple question born out of your curiosity- what’s the makeup like where you were born, Johnny?- that has him in your bedroom often now, the other chefs taking care of the kitchen while his hands, clean and gentle, dab creams and whatnot on your face so delicately- like you are one of the cupacakes he decorates for your tea time.

He wants to kiss you so badly. You look so pretty like this, eyes closed and expression peaceful, patient and so trustful of his ministrations. He really, really wants to kiss you and see if the lipstick he’d applied on your pretty lips tastes as sweet as it smells.

Simon, though, is the one who slowly begins adding more and more to your dresses. John already supplies you with so much, but Simon is the one largely in charge of the silk and fabric importation and he knows well what styles will be popular next season, what styles will looks better on you and which colors suit you best. It’s not just dresses, but also matching fabrics and ribbons to go in your hair for when Kyle or your maids style, and for your pretty neck during more casual tea parties.

Not occasionally seeing you in the dresses he sends doesn’t bother him; you will be spoiling the others with the sight, and he can listen to them thank him in several ways afterwards and rest with the thought of you all dolled up, happy and thriving with them.

1K notes · View notes

imaginaryf1shots · 1 month ago

Text

Soulmate | Carlos Sainz Ver.

WC: 4.8K

Csrlos x Soulmate!reader

Summery: Everyone can feel their soulmate's injuries and pain since the age of 15

Warning: None??

AN: Thank you for all the ideas. I just changed jobs, and it's a full time office job, so it's very demanding 🙄🙃

Max Ver. , Oscar Ver. , Charles Ver., Lewis Ver.

Masterlist

Carlos Masterlist

The world is built on the idea that soulmates are connected through their physical pain. Everyone knows that if you're injured or in pain, your soulmates feel the exact same pain. This can be seen as a blessing or as a curse. In one way, you know when your other half is injured, but it also brings shared vulnerability. Some believed it was a form of protection, a way for soulmates to be in tune with one another, even if they'd never met.

Now, did you know about this from a young age? Yes, you did. Did that stop you from doing all those crazy things that caused you multiple injuries? No. You felt sorry every time, but you're just clumsy by nature. It was from the moment you could walk that you've been a klutz. Bumping into walls, tripping over your own feet, and misjudging the occasional stair, it was part of your life. Growing up, you've gotten used to the bumps and bruises that came with her natural clumsiness, but what took longer to adjust to was the knowledge that someone else felt them, too.

Your soulmate must be a saint because you've rarely felt any pain. Yes, through the years, there have been times when you felt real and strong pain, but it was few and far between.

In a world of soulmates that felt their soulmates through visceral pain, your soulmate did everything he could to never cause you pain.

And for as long as you could remember, you’d imagined what he might be like. Patient for sure, after all, he had to endure your countless scrapes and missteps. You wondered if he was the type to sigh and shake his head when he felt you stub your toe or if he was used to your clumsiness, so much so that it barely bothered him anymore. Whoever he was, you were grateful got him.

Your friends often teased you about it, especially when you had a particularly bad fall or ended up with an impressive bruise. “You really owe your soulmate an apology.” They would always joke. “He must be so fed up by now.”

You’d always laugh it off, but late at night you’d overthink. Did he really mind? Or was he out there somewhere laughing about it, too? What was his life like? Was he clumsy, too? You doubt it. He must be the complete opposite, composed and careful, someone who rarely felt pain unless it was coming from you. Maybe he was a doctor or an athlete, someone who needed precision and strength in his day-to-day life. Your imagination would always run wild, paining pictures of him in your mind. But no matter how many times you tried to envision his face, it remained just out of reach, like the hazy details of a dream.

The older you got the more curious you got, and it started eating at you. Who was he? Where was he? Some people met their soulmate early on, like your childhood friend who had found hers at eighteen. Others never found theirs at all, even though they shared the pain for their entire lives. You tried not to let it bother you too much, after all what could you do? If you’re meant to meet it’ll happen on it’s own time.

But still there was that nagging feeling every time you bumped your knee or accidently burned your hand cooking. You would wince and imagine him somewhere far away, gritting his teeth as he felt the same.

“Another one for you soulmate.” You muttered as you stumbled over a crack in the pavement.

For as long as you lived with the bond you’ve been the one giving the worst of pains, sending your soulmate injuries, most harmless, but you’ve also broken enough bones over the years.

It started as a dull ache, just beneath your ribs on the right side. At first, you didn’t think much of it, assuming it’s a muscle strain or maybe it’s something you’ve eaten. You shifted in your seat, pressing your hand against the spot as if to massage the discomfort away, but the ache lingered, stubborn and unrelenting.

Throughout the day the pain grew worse. What started as mild throb quickly became sharp, stabbing sensation, taking your breath away every time you moved, and you started to feel a fever coming. This wasn’t like the occasional bump or fall you’re used to, this is far worse than anything you’ve felt before. This is different, deeper, persistent and alarming.

By late afternoon, you couldn’t take it anymore, every breath felt like a knife twisting in your side, and no matter how you positioned yourself, it wouldn’t go away. Sweat was forming on your forehead as you tried to power through the pain, but something wasn’t right.

Could this be coming from him?

You never felt pain like this before, certainly not from your own body. Your chest tightened, if this pain wasn’t yours, then something is very wrong. The idea that your soulmate could be hurt, really hirt, it made your stomach churn. You could handle minor injuries, but this? This was different.

You rushed to the hospital, the ride to the hospital felt like an eternity. By the time you arrived, you were sweating and clutching your side, each movement like a dagger. You explained your symptoms to the nurse at the reception, your voice wavering with pain and fear,

They rushed you into an examination room.

“We’ll run some tests.” The doctor said after you told him your symptoms, his brows furrowed with concern. “It sounds like it could be appendicitis, but we’ll know more once we do an ultrasound.”

As the minutes dragged on, the pain sharpened, radiating into your chest. You clutched the hospital bed’s metal rails, your knuckles turned white as you waited. Nurses and doctors came and went performing the tests as quickly as they could. After what felt like hours the doctor came back.

“The tests came back normal.” He began, flipping through the papers in his hands. “There’s no sign of appendicitis, in fact, you don’t have an appendix.” That was news to you.

“What? I don’t have it? Is that normal?” You asked confused.

“It’s rare but it happens some people are born without an appendix.” The doctor confirmed, he didn’t seem too worried.

“But the pain, it’s unbearable, what’s causing it?” You asked and dreaded the answer you know the doctor is about to give you.

“The only answer we have is, the pain isn’t yours to begin with.” The doctor smiled sympathetically. His words hung in the air heavy. Your soulmate. He’s the one in agony, and you were feeling every excruciating second of it.

Carlos hasn’t been feeling the best the last couple of days, he thought he was tired from all the traveling and racing and training. It happens. But the moment he woke up he knew something was wrong, he had Free Practice today, so he just pushed through it. However throughout the day, he’s just been getting worse and worse. By the end of FP2 he knew he couldn’t just push it off, it wasn’t food poisoning, he was starting to burn up.

Carlos with his team went to the hospital so he’d get checked out. He sat hunched over in the waiting room, gripping his side as the pain flared up again, sharper this time. The medics had said it was appendicitis and a routine surgery, nothing major. But that didn’t ease the fear eating at the back of his mind. He’s used to pushing his body through physical discomfort, but never to the point of pain. But this wasn’t the type of pain you ignore.

He could feel the ache spreading and tightening like a vice around his abdomen. His hands were clammy, sweat was gathered on his forehead, and his breath came in shallow, uneven bursts. He’s been through a lot through his life, the crash here and there, the pain of his soulmate breaking a bone, and stubbing her toes and all the random bruises she seems to get randomly. This felt like his body was on fire from the inside out, and it wasn’t just the physical pain that made his chest tighten.

It was her, his soulmate.

As long as he could remember, he had shared pain with you. The worst when you had broken your leg. And he’s grown accustomed to the random flicker of discomfort over the years, wondering what kind of person you are. He imagined you being clumsy, maybe even a bit absent-minded, but he never minded. In fact, it had always made him smile, knowing that somewhere out there, you were living your life and through those little jolts of pain you felt close to him.

But today, he was the one that was causing you pain, pain like you both have never experienced before. That realisation made him nauseous. How much of this were you feeling right now? Were you suffering as much as he was, lying somewhere clutching your side in agony?

Carlos wiped the sweat from his brow and closed his eyes, trying to focus on anything but the pain. He thought of you, his soulmate.

You walked out of the hospital room, walking slowly. Since the pain you were experiencing isn’t yours, pain meds will do nothing unless your soulmate takes some. You were clutching your side as you walked, not really paying attention, that and being the clumsy person that you are you bumped into someone while you were passing one of the waiting rooms. You stumbled before your knees hit the floor, hard. You winced, the same time someone else did.

“I’m so sorry are you alright?” An accented voice asked, you looked up to see a man with a moustache, he was dressed in red.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” You replied instantly and took the man’s hand to stand up. You were unaware of the other Spanish eyes on you.

Carlos shared a look with his dad beside him, Carlos Sr. saw everything happen. He saw you fall and he saw his son wince when you did.

“Pinch yourself.” He muttered to his son, not taking his eyes off you.

“W-what?” Carlos frowned at his father’s words, but he didn’t wait Carlos Sr. pinched his son’s arm and you let out an ‘aw’ and held your arm where he pinched his son.

You frowned, not understanding what was going on with your soulmate.

“Are you hurt?” The man in front of you asked seeing how you held your arm.

“Yeah, soulmate.” He lets out an ‘ah’ in understanding.

Carlos’s eyes went wide when he saw you feel his pain, your hand went back to your side, the same he was holding, and even though he was still in pain he felt relieved, his heart much lighter and he couldn’t help but smile. His dad nudged him with a smile of his own. And Carlos stood up and went to his friend’s side. Gigi was confused why Carlos was coming his way, and why he was smiling when he had to go in for surgery in less than two hours. But he wasn’t looking at him, he was looking at you.

You only noticed him when he came to stand beside the man you bumped into.

“Hi.” Carlos said simply and you frowned confused.

“Hi?” It came out as a question, you looked between the two men in confusion. “I’m sorry but i-“

You were cut off when you groaned as a wave of pain hit you, the same time as the stranger in front of you winced and held his side, the same side you’ve felt the pain. Gigi then knew what happened, and he too couldn’t help but smile, he looked at Carlos Sr. for confirmation and he just gave him a proud nod.

You looked at the new man who was holding his side, your heart skipped a beat. Is he? Could he? This is almost too good to be true. You bit your tongue slightly.

“Why are you biting your tongue?” The smooth voice of your soulmate asked, your eyes went wide, Carlos chuckled at the expression on your face. “Hi.”

“Hi.” This time it was breathless; your eyes didn’t move from his face as you took him in. He also was waring a red shirt, but he also had a hat on top of his head, covering parts of his face but your eyes met his, nonetheless.

“I’m Carlos.” Carlos said and put his hand out for you to shake.

“Y/n.” You said taking his hand, the rush you both felt is unexplainable. You felt warm, your heart was beating faster and you were tingling all over. “It’s really you.”

“It’s me.” Carlos said and you both didn’t let go of each other’s hand.

“Carlos, it’s better you go to your room.” Gigi said, once the nurse told them his room was ready. Carlos nods, but it takes him a few moments to let go of your hand and look away.

“Come on.” Carlos said and he leads you to his room following the nurse. Once the door is closed leaving the both of you alone, you turned to face him once more.

“I never thought I’d meet my soulmate in a hospital of all places.” You said and smiled.

“Really? With how much you like to hit the floor, it was more than likely.” Carlos teased, he took off his hat and ran a hand though his hair, it was so fluffy you wanted to run your hands through it.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” You mutter suddenly not meeting his eyes, feeling guilty for all the pain you caused him.

“Hey, I didn’t say I minded.” He said but you still refused to meet his eyes, so he went on. “Every time I felt your pain, I knew you were out there somewhere, living your life and that I wasn’t alone, even if once or twice the timing wasn’t the best, is till cherished it.”

“Really?” You asked meeting his hypnotizing brown eyes.

“Really.” Carlos confirms, his smile is sweet and kind and warm.

“What’s wrong with your appendix?” You ask your hand itching to touch where you know he feels the pain most.

“I have appendicitis, will go into surgery in an hour or so.” Carlos tells you and feels himself riddled with guilt, knowing you felt the pain of his illness. “Why are you here?”

“Came to check if it’s my pain or yours I was feeling.” You could see the guilt eating at him. “I rarely felt pain coming from you, you’ve always been so careful, and here I am falling every day.”

“Guess we balance each other out.” Carlos said and you smiled.

“Guess so… also I discovered I’m born without an appendix.” You suddenly tell him and smile up at him.

“So we’ll match then.” Carlos laughed at the coincidence. You both stayed silent for a long moment, just basking in each other’s presence. “There’s so much I want to ask you.”

“Me too.” You tell him honestly. “Like why are you wearing red? It looks like a uniform, same with the guy I walked into.”

“It kind of is a uniform, it’s team kit, we’re required to wear it.” Carlos says and runs a hand over the back of his neck, he’ll have to explain what he does to you.

“Like a sports thing?” You asked raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, exactly that.” You mouth forms an ‘o’ shape, and you nod to yourself.

“What sport?”

“Formula 1.” You rack your brain over if you’ve heard of it before, Carlos saw the confused look on your face, he was about to answer your un asked question when someone knocked on the door. He called out for them to enter and in walked his dad and Gigi.

“You have to get ready.” Gigi said and Carlos sighed he was just starting to talk to you, you smiled at him.

“I’ll be here.” You promised and he nods.

“I’ll introduce you then. This is y/n, my soulmate.” He said is so proudly, smiling at you, a smile that you shared. “That’s Poerluigi, known as Gigi and this is my dad Carlos Sr.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you dad was here as well, it’s nice to meet you sir.” You say and go to shake his hand, Sr. smiles and shakes your hand.

“Nice to finally meet you.” Carlos Sr. said with a smile he gave you a quick one-armed hug while your hands were still clasped together. “Carlos has been anxious to meet you lately.”

“Papa.” Carlos Jr. warned his dad, he didn’t want any embarrassing stories to reach you before he even gotten the chance to officially sit and talk to you. Sr. winked at you and you giggled, Carlos gives you both a warning look, before you leave the room so they can prep him for surgery. Meeting your soulmate right before he has to go into surgery isn’t really ideal. The three of you were allowed to wait in his room once Carlos was wheeled out.

“So what exactly does Carlos do?” You asked, and that opened the flood gates. They told you about how Carlos Sr. is a rally driver, all his achievements and how Carlos decided to get into Formula 1, that he’s a driver for Ferrari. They showed you some videos of him on track, deciding not to share anything personal and leave it to Carlos to share and say what he wants to.

You in turn were asked about what you do, your hobbies, why you’re always getting bruised and just random talk. When Carlos is brought back in the room, he’s still unconscious, the doctor informed you that it went well and that he’ll recover in no time. Carlos Sr. went out the room to call his wife and inform her of Carlos’ well-being.

when Carlos wakes up, you’re all kicked out of the room for the doctor to check on him, before you’re allowed back inside. The doctor reconfirms that Carlos is okay and well and that he’ll be able to recover fast. Something he was happy to hear about.

“How are you feeling?” Carlos Sr. asked his son.

“Good.”

“I think the pain meds haven’t worn off yet.” You say, feeling not an ounce of pain through your connection. Carlos smiles at you and you smile back.

“You stayed.”

“Of course, I did.” You say with a pointed look, he’d be stupid if he thought you’re about to leave him when he’s going into surgery, no matter how easy it is.

Gigi takes a picture of both Carlos’s for Instagram, for the fans. He did manage to snap a few of you both, but those were private, for now at least.

“Where are you staying?” Carlos asked and when you gave him your hotel room, he laughed.

“What?”

“You were so close all along.” Carlos says and he smiles thinking about how even if he was okay, you properly would’ve met. “I’m staying there too.”

“Guess fate intended for us to meet one way or the other.” You smile at the thought, you’re mean to be, and you were bound to meet.

Carlos is required to spend the night, and his dad decided to stay with him. Meaning you and Gigi went back to the hotel, and agreed to meet in the morning so you could head back to the hotel together. In all of the rush of things, you forgot to ask Carlos for his number, but Gigi gave you his number for the meet up in the morning.

can you send me Carlos’ number? 😊

Gigi

Sure 😉

You ignore the winky face and save Carlos’ number once you received it.

Stop moving around so much 🤨

Soulmate ❤️

sorry, I can’t find a comfortable spot to sleep

ask the nurses for painkillers if you’re in pain

Soulmate ❤️

I’m alright, it’s not too bad

Do you feel pain? If you want I can take pain killers for you.

no I’m good, it’s alright

I can feel you

Soulmate ❤️

I can’t feel you

do you want me to pinch myself or something?

Soulmate ❤️

No, now the tables are turned.

I guess so

Soulmate ❤️

what?

im sad that you’re the one in pain

That’s my job in the relationship!

Soulmate ❤️

Relationship? 😏

You felt a blush cover your face; you want to cover your cheeks even though he can’t even see you.

I think that’s enough for today

you should go to sleep.

Soulmate ❤️

fine, I’ll let it slide

this time

see you tomorrow, hermosa’

see you tomorrow.

The next morning you meet up with Gigi, who had a bag of clothes for both Carlos’s. the drive to the hospital you spent talking about unimportant things. When you got to the hospital, Carlos Sr. took the bag and went to change, and Gigi excused himself to go get coffee.

“How did you sleep?” Carlos asked you.

“I slept alright, how about you?” You asked glancing to where they did the surgery.

“I slept better than ever, dreaming about you.” You couldn’t fight the blush and turned your head to the side, biting your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling. “Don’t hide your face from me.”

Carlos moved so his feet were dangling off the bed, he wanted to walk up to you and pull you in close. He hasn’t been able to hug you yet, and he wants to desperately. Carlos puts his hand out and you walk closer to him, you put your hand in his and he pulls you closer. You’re standing between his legs; Carlos doesn’t wait and wraps his arms around you in a hug. You stand frozen for a moment before you lean into him, your arms much closer around him than his around you. But you lean your head onto on his shoulder.

“I wanted to do that since I saw you.” Carlos mumbles, his voice coming out right next to your ear, making you shiver.

“Only this?” You ask, now that you’re face is hidden, you found the confidence to say that to him.

“If we weren’t here, I’d show you all the things I want to do to you.” Carlos whispers and kisses right under your ear, you close your eyes basking in the feeling of him around you.

“Could have waited until I wasn’t here.” Carlos Sr. says coming out of the attached bathroom. You pull away from Carlos and your blush is back. Carlos only chuckles and rolls his eyes at his father.

Carlos changes and comes out, him and his dad start talking in Spanish, you sip on the coffee Gigi has gotten you checking your notifications on your phone. You look up when you feel the conversation getting a tad bit heated, Carlos is standing in a pair of jeans and his team kit his hat is on the bed.

“Why are you in your team kit?” You ask confused, Carlos Sr. moved his hand in your direction, indicating to his son to tell you what’s going on.

“I’m going to the race today.” Carlos said and you frowned.

“Why? Are they making you go?” You asked seeing no reason for him to be anywhere, but back in the hotel and resting until his flight.

“No, but I want to be there.” Carlos said simply and his dad muttered something under his breath.

“You just got a surgery not even 24 hours ago.” You say standing up.

“I know, but like I told papa, I want to go be there for the team, and I won’t be doing an media or anything, it wouldn’t be different than me staying in the hotel.”

“Doubt it.” Sr. mutters. You think for a moment, not liking this at all.

“Okay, but remember I feel your pain, at the first sign of it we’ll be out of there.” You tell him with a pointed look, daring him to disagree.

“Okay, fine.” Carlos says and Gigi smirks.

“I like this one.”

Both Carlos Sr. and Jr. walked to the motorhome first, and you and Gigi followed after, you had a Ferrari with 55 hat on, your head was done as instructed as you followed the man in front of you. There has been a dull pain in your side as the pain killers wore off, but it wasn’t too bad so you said nothing. Getting to the garage, Gigi sticks to your side and shows you around, Carlos is busy, which isn’t the resting he said he’d do.

Gigi soon introduces you to Alex, Charle’s soulmate, you both talk about your soulmates. Unlike you she knew about Formula 1 before she dated Charles, but her knowledge was limited before that. She was super nice to you, as she explained a few things about the race, she also pointed out where Carlos is in the garage. You may have known him for so little time, but seeing him work, showed you a different side to him. He’s very dedicated and clearly loves what he does.

You find yourself in the back of the garage in a staff only area, it’s like a cafeteria. Carlos was standing to the side eating from a plat in his hand while you talked with Charles and Alex.

Carlos drops his fork on the floor and in a reflex move he bends to pick the fork up. Your side suddenly flares up and you gasp clutching your side. Both Charles and Alex look at you in concern.

“It’s Carlos.” You tell them and move to get to your soulmate, when your clumsy self decides to hit the side of a table with your hip making you stumble and now hold your hip. Carlos curses and he moves to get to you only ending up hunched over from the strain he puts to his side.

“You both, need to stop moving!” Carlos Sr. says and goes to see Carlos and make sure he hasn’t popped a stitch or something. Charles and Alex were at your side pulling you up.

“You are clumsy.” Charles says with a teasing smile, and Alex hits his shoulder, giving herself the same pain, but it makes him stop.

“Made for each other you two.” Carlos Sr. says and you and Carlos meet eyes, you both smile and chuckle, this recovery is going to be harder than you both expected.

It took you two weeks to allow Carlos to do any kind of kissing, and still, you stayed away from his side when you did. Carlos had you in his home to get to know you while he was in between races. He just came back from a race that he won, first winner of the season, that isn’t Max. it took more than usual out of him, which was understandable. But now that he was cleared to race, here you were on his bed, him leaning on the headboard and you in his lap, kissing. I never felt this good. Every bite ever suck was felt by the two of you. It left you gasping and moaning for more. Both your lips are puffy and bruised, Carlos moves his lips to your neck in wet kisses before he finds your sweet spot that had you moving over him. He groans and starts sucking, so lost in the moment.

The next day you wake up first and head to the bathroom for a quick shower, Carlos hears the water and wakes up. He walks in the bathroom and stops when he sees himself in the mirror, he lets out a curse. You poke your head out hearing him curse.

“What’s wrong?” You ask and he turns to show you his neck, you burst out laughing. “

“But it looks good on you.” Carlos almost whined and you couldn’t help but continue laughing.

“Well did you come into here to stare at yourself in the mirror, or?” You asked raising an eyebrow before turning and getting back under the shower head. Carlos forgets all about the hickeys covering his neck, collarbones and chest. He did a number on you last night.

Let’s just say it was easier for you to cover them than Carlos. The next race, the fans spotted them fast.

“Looks like you had a fun night.” Jensen commented while interviewing Carlos with a knowing smirks on his face. “Wild girl?”

“Uh no, I wouldn’t sag that. I did them myself.” Carlos admitted his face warming up a bit. You watched the interview from the sides, your neckline and hair covering up all the bruises he left on you.

“Did them yours- oh, oh, congratulations, mate.” Jensen bro hugged Carlos, realising what he meant. “We all had to learn where to stop.”

You rolled your eyes bit still smiled, Carlos already knew where to stop, evident by the fact that more bruises ended right under his neckline.

It was all just a time thing, with your clumsiness and Carlos’s love of kissing. But your identical bruises caught on cameras, as well as you hitting something and Carlos reacting was a sign enough for everyone that you’re his soulmate.

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