#again i’m late with this but i’m here now 🫶

[hisfavegirl]

Endless Battle Of Love- Modern!Jacaerys Velaryon x Female.

Prologue, Chapter 1.

Word Count : 10.2k

Jacaerys Velaryon Masterlist.

House Of The Dragon Masterlist.

and also big thanks to @zaldritzosrose for let me using yours beautiful dividers 🫶🏻.

The first thing you feel is warmth. Not just the warmth of the sun spilling through the curtains, but something else.

Something solid.

Something strong.

Your lashes flutter open, blinking against the golden light filtering into the room. For a moment, you’re disoriented, your mind still heavy with sleep. But then— Your breath catches.

Jace.

He’s right there. His arms are still wrapped securely around you, his body solid and unmoving beneath you. Your head rests against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat thrumming softly beneath your ear.

You froze.

Shit.

Slowly, everything from last night crashes back into your mind. The nightmare. The panic. The way you broke down in his arms. The way he held you.

You swallow hard, your fingers curling against his shirt. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep on top of him, hadn’t meant to practically cling to him all night and yet… Jace hadn’t let go either. Even in sleep, his arms are still wrapped tightly around your waist, his body still curled around yours like he needed to hold you.

Your chest tightens.

You should move.

You should.

But for the first time in so long, you feel safe. Still, you can’t just stay like this. Carefully, you begin to pull back, your movements slow and deliberate his arms tighten. You freeze.

Your eyes snap up to his face, but Jace’s breathing is still even, his lips slightly parted. His brows furrow just slightly, as if instinctively aware that you’re trying to leave.

Your heart skips.

You hold your breath, waiting to see if he’ll wake up. Seconds pass. He doesn’t. Relief washes over you, and you very slowly try again, inching away just enough to slip from his grip. Almost there— "Where do you think you’re going?"

Your body jerks.

You snap your gaze up to find Jace’s very awake golden-brown eyes locked onto you, sharp and focused despite the sleep still clinging to him. You swallow. "I—I was just—"

"Leaving me?" His voice is still rough from sleep, but there’s something in his tone—something dangerous. "After using me as your personal pillow all night?"

Your face burns. "I didn’t—"

"Shhh."

Your breath hitches as one of his hands loosens from around your waist, coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch is gentle. Too gentle. Your heart pounds. "Jace—"

"Stay," he murmurs and the way he says it—the command laced beneath the softness— You don’t move.

You hesitate for only a second before slowly relaxing back into Jace’s embrace. Immediately, his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer.

This time, however, it’s different.

Last night, he had been careful—almost cautious—as if he was afraid of holding you too tightly. But now? Now, there’s a quiet possessiveness in the way he wraps around you.

His chin rests against the top of your head, his warmth completely surrounding you. You don’t know how long you lay like that, but eventually, you find your voice. "I should make us breakfast," you mumble against his chest. "You must be hungry."

Jace hums, his fingers idly tracing slow, lazy circles against your back. "That can wait," he murmurs. "Let’s stay like this a little longer."

Your stomach flutters.

"But it’s already late—"

"It’s our day off," Jace cuts in. "We don’t have any meetings, no schedules, nothing to do." You open your mouth to argue, but he shifts, nuzzling slightly into your hair.

"You’re comfortable," he says simply. "And I’m comfortable." Your breath catches. The words shouldn’t affect you the way they do, but there’s something about the way he says them—something firm.

Like a fact.

Like he’s already decided that you’re staying right here, in his arms, for as long as he wants.

Your fingers unconsciously clutch at his shirt, your heart hammering against your ribs. Jace notices. Of course he notices. You feel his lips curve slightly against your hair. "Relax, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice still husky with sleep. "You’re safe."

Your chest tightens.

You don’t know if he’s talking about last night—about what happened with your ex, about the nightmare that followed— Or if he’s talking about himself. Either way, you let out a slow, shaky breath, closing your eyes and for the first time in a long time�� You let yourself believe him.

Your entire body freezes as the sound of the door creaking open reaches your ears. You barely have time to react before—

"Well, well, well."

Shit.

Your eyes snap toward the doorway, where Cregan Stark stands with his arms crossed, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. You don’t know what’s worse—the way his eyes widen slightly at the sight of you practically curled into Jace’s chest, or the way his lips twitch like he’s about to burst into laughter.

You panic.

Your hands fly to your thighs, hastily tugging down the hem of Jace’s oversized shirt, which had ridden up sometime during the night.

Cregan notices.

His grin widens.

"Ohhh, this is interesting—" He doesn’t get to finish. Because suddenly, a pillow flies across the room— And smacks him right in the face.

"Get the fuck out, Cregan!" Jace growls, his voice still rough with sleep. Cregan stumbles back slightly from the impact, but it does nothing to wipe the amusement off his face. "What? I just came to—" Another pillow hurtles toward him.

"Out!" Cregan dodges this time, laughing loudly as he raises his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright! No need to get violent, Chairman Velaryon!"

Your face is on fire.

Jace is still seething beside you, his arm tightening slightly around your waist as if trying to shield you from Cregan’s teasing gaze.

"You have five seconds to leave before I throw something heavier," Jace warns, his tone deadly. Cregan chuckles, stepping back into the hallway. "Relax, man. I just wanted to check if you were coming to the office today—"

"We’re not." Jace snaps. "Now go." Cregan smirks, his eyes flickering toward you one last time before he salutes playfully. "Got it, boss."

And with that, he disappears, the door clicking shut behind him. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your hands still clutching at the hem of Jace’s shirt. Silence stretches between you.

Then—

"Are you really throwing pillows at people now?" you mumble, your voice slightly muffled as you press your hands over your burning face.

Jace scoffs, shifting slightly beneath you. "He deserved it."

You peek at him through your fingers. "He’s your best friend."

"He was about to become my dead best friend," Jace mutters darkly. "He saw you like this."

You blink. "Like… what?"

His golden-brown eyes flicker to your thighs— To the way you’re still half-draped over him, to the way his shirt barely covers you. Your breath hitches. Jace swallows hard. His jaw clenches and for a split second— Something dark flickers behind his gaze.

Then— "Nothing," he says, forcing himself to look away. "Just go back to sleep."

You hesitate. "Jace—"

"Go back to sleep," he repeats, this time softer and you don’t know why, but something about the way he says it makes your heart stutter. So you don’t argue. You let yourself relax against him once more, pressing your face into his chest. His heartbeat is faster now and for the first time— You wonder if it’s because of you.

Jace steps out of the bedroom quietly, careful not to wake you. His fingers linger on the doorknob for a second longer than necessary before he finally sighs and makes his way downstairs.

He finds Cregan in the living room, lazily sprawled on the couch with a cup of coffee in his hand. The moment Cregan sees him, he grins.

"So," Cregan drawls, setting his coffee down. "How was sleeping with your secretary?" Jace doesn't even hesitate. He grabs a pillow from the couch and hurls it straight at Cregan’s face.

"Fuck off," Jace mutters, running a hand through his disheveled curls.

Cregan just laughs, unfazed. "Come on, you can’t blame me! I walked in, and she was practically wrapped around you like some clingy little thing. You looked—"

"Cregan." Jace’s voice is sharp. Cregan stops, eyeing him carefully and then— His smirk falters. Jace exhales roughly, collapsing onto the couch across from him. "It’s not like that," he mutters, rubbing his temples. "Last night was… a lot."

Cregan leans forward. "Talk to me."*

Jace is silent for a moment. Then, without looking up, he speaks. "Her fiancé— no, her ex—was blackmailing her."

Cregan’s expression shifts immediately. "What?"

"That bastard recorded her—" Jace's jaw clenches. "—without her knowing. That’s why she stayed with him. He trapped her."

Cregan swears under his breath. "That sick fuck—"

"It’s handled," Jace cuts in. "Aemond and Aegon took care of it." Cregan stares at him. "...Took care of it how?" Jace doesn’t answer.

Cregan sighs. "Right. I probably don’t wanna know."

Silence stretches between them. Jace leans back, his head tilting up toward the ceiling. "She had a nightmare last night."

Cregan watches him carefully. "And?"

Jace’s fingers twitch against his knee. "And I—" He exhales sharply. "—I nearly lost it."

Cregan raises an eyebrow. "Define ‘lost it’."

Jace doesn’t answer right away. His mind replays the way you had curled into him last night, the way your body had trembled against his. The way you had moaned in that goddamn video—

Jace inhales sharply, shaking his head. "She was crying in her sleep, Cregan." His voice is tight. "She was whimpering like she was still stuck there—like he was still touching her. I just—" His hands clench into fists. "I wanted to kill him."

Cregan’s brows furrow slightly. "Jace—"

"And then," Jace continues, his voice almost a growl, "when she woke up? She looked at me like I was the only thing keeping her safe." Cregan stays silent, watching his friend with knowing eyes.

Jace exhales roughly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "I—" He pauses, his fingers threading through his curls. "I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me."

Cregan lets out a small chuckle. "Oh, I do."

Jace glares at him. "Cregan—"

"You’re obsessed with her," Cregan states simply. "And you have been for a while."

Jace freezes.

Cregan grins. "Come on, man. You think I haven’t noticed? You’ve been looking at her like she’s the only woman in the world since day one."

Jace grits his teeth. "I was just—"

"Protecting her?" Cregan cuts in, raising an eyebrow. "Sure. Keep telling yourself that, boss."

Jace scowls. "Go to hell."

Cregan only laughs. "Already on my way, brother. But you? You're screwed." Jace groans, leaning back against the couch and running a hand down his face. And for the first time, he wonders if Cregan is right.

Jace and Cregan were still speaking in hushed tones, their voices low to avoid waking you. "So, what’s your plan now?" Cregan asked, sipping his coffee. "You can't just keep her locked in here forever, you know."

Jace ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. "She needs time. She just went through hell. I’m not throwing her back into the office like nothing happened."

"And after that?" Cregan pressed. "You think she’s just gonna act like this whole thing never happened? You think you can go back to just being her boss?"

Jace didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stared at the coffee in his hands, his grip tightening slightly around the mug. Cregan sighed. "Yeah. That’s what I thought."

Upstairs, you had already woken up. The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You had taken a shower, letting the hot water wash away the lingering fear and exhaustion from last night.

Now, standing in front of Jace’s wardrobe, you hesitated before reaching for something to wear. The only thing available was his clothes. You had worn his oversized t-shirt earlier, but this time, you decided to put on one of his white button-up shirts.

The fabric was soft against your skin, the scent of Jace lingering in the material. It was big on you—too big—but at least it covered your body properly. Taking a deep breath, you stepped out of the room, making your way downstairs. As you entered the living room, both men turned toward you.

Jace's gaze darkened immediately. His eyes swept over you—his shirt hanging loosely over your frame, the way the collar dipped slightly, revealing just a hint of your collarbone. You swallowed, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his intense stare.

"Morning," you said softly.

Cregan smirked. "Well, look who’s finally up."

You walked closer, hesitating for a moment before taking a seat on the couch. "How are you feeling?" Jace asked, his voice softer now.

You exhaled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Better," you admitted. "Thank you… for last night."

Jace nodded, his gaze still fixed on you. "You don’t have to thank me."

Cregan leaned back in his chair. "Alright, I feel like I’m intruding on something here," he teased. "Maybe I should go."

"You should," Jace said flatly.

Cregan let out a laugh. "Damn. Not even subtle about it."

You shook your head, hiding a small smile. Jace stood up and walked to the kitchen. "You should eat something," he said, glancing at you over his shoulder. "Come on, I’ll make you breakfast."

You blinked. "You can cook?"

"I’m not completely useless," Jace muttered.

Cregan chuckled. "Debatable."

Jace shot him a glare before disappearing into the kitchen. You turned to Cregan, curiosity getting the better of you. "What were you two talking about before I came down?"

Cregan smirked. "Oh, you know. Just about how obsessed Jace is with you."

Your breath hitched slightly. "He’s not obsessed with me," you said, but even you weren’t sure if you believed it.

Cregan raised an eyebrow. "Right. Sure."

You hesitated, your fingers playing with the hem of Jace’s shirt. "He’s just being… protective."

Cregan leaned forward slightly. "Listen, sweetheart. I’ve known Jace for a long time. And I’ve never seen him act this way over anyone. Ever."

Your heart skipped a beat. Cregan grinned. "You might not see it yet, but trust me… he’s completely gone for you."

Before you could say anything, Jace reappeared with a plate of food. "What the hell are you telling her?"

Cregan only smirked. "Nothing you wouldn’t admit to yourself eventually."

Jace shot him a warning look before turning his attention to you. "Come eat."

You nodded, taking the plate from him. As you did, your fingers brushed against his. The contact was brief, but it sent a small shiver up your spine. Jace noticed. His eyes flicked to yours, something unreadable in his expression. Cregan stretched, standing up. "Alright, I’m out. You two lovebirds enjoy breakfast."

"Cregan," Jace warned.

"Later," Cregan said with a grin before walking out.

The door shut behind him, leaving you alone with Jace. You cleared your throat, picking up a fork. "So… what’s the plan for today?"

Jace leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "We’re staying in. You need to rest."

You frowned. "Jace, I can’t just—"

"You can," he interrupted. "And you will."

You huffed, setting your fork down. "You’re acting like I’m fragile."

Jace’s jaw tightened. "You are fragile. After everything that happened, you need time to recover."

Your gaze softened. "Jace…"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just… I don’t want you to force yourself to act like everything’s okay when it’s not."

Your heart ached at his words. He wasn’t just your boss—he was someone who genuinely cared and maybe, just maybe, Cregan was right. Maybe Jace cared too much.

Jace wasn’t paying attention to the TV. Not even a little.

His eyes were on you—the way your lips curved into a soft smile, the way you hugged your knees to your chest, completely at ease in his oversized shirt. You were laughing at something on the screen, completely unaware of the thoughts racing through his head.

He never imagined this scenario would actually happen. You, in his home. Wearing his clothes. Sleeping in his bed.

Well… maybe he had imagined it once or twice. Late at night. Before falling asleep. But not like this. Not with you still haunted by the memory of him. Jace exhaled sharply, leaning back against the couch. You turned your head slightly, noticing his expression. "Jace?"

"Hm?"

"You’re staring."

He blinked, caught off guard. "Am I?"

You rolled your eyes, turning back to the screen. "You’re acting weird today."

"Weird how?"

"I don’t know… distracted?" You glanced at him again. "Are you okay?"

Jace hesitated. He could lie, brush it off. But something in your voice made him pause. "Yeah," he said, voice lower than usual. "I’m fine."

You didn’t seem convinced, but you didn’t press further. Instead, you turned your attention back to the show.

A comfortable silence settled between you.

But Jace couldn’t focus.

His mind was stuck on the way you looked in his shirt, the way you felt curled up against him last night, how your breath had tickled his neck as you slept.

And worse, his mind kept drifting back to that damn video. The raw panic in your voice. The way you had been used. Jace clenched his jaw, gripping the edge of the couch. The thought of him—your ex—touching you, forcing you, recording you without your consent—

"Jace?"

Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

You were looking at him with concern now, your brows slightly furrowed. "Are you sure you’re okay?" He exhaled through his nose, forcing his body to relax. "Yeah."

You stared at him for a long moment, then shifted closer. "Do you want to talk about it?" Jace scoffed. "Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?"

"Maybe," you admitted. "But right now, I feel like you’re the one who needs to talk."

Jace let out a dry chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "It’s nothing. Just… thinking."

"About?"

"About what happened. About him." His expression darkened. "And what I should’ve done sooner."

You swallowed. "Jace… it’s over now. He can’t hurt me anymore."

"Doesn’t mean I don’t want to hurt him." His voice was sharp, filled with something dangerous. You reached out, hesitating slightly before resting a hand on his arm. "Don’t do anything reckless. Please."

Jace exhaled slowly. "I won’t."

You tilted your head. "Liar."

That made him smirk, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

"I just hate that I couldn’t protect you sooner," he admitted. "That I didn’t notice."

Your chest tightened. "Jace, none of this was your fault."

"Maybe not. But it doesn’t change the fact that I want to make sure nothing like this ever happens again." His hand lifted, almost unconsciously, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His fingers lingered against your cheek for a second too long before he pulled away. "And that means keeping you close."

Your breath hitched slightly. "How close?"

Jace’s blue eyes darkened. "Close enough that no one else gets to touch you."

A shiver ran down your spine.

"Jace…"

"I know." His voice was rough, low. "I know I shouldn’t be saying this. But after last night… after knowing what he did to you—" He stopped himself, exhaling sharply. "I can’t stand the thought of you with anyone else."

Your heart pounded.

This was Jace—your boss. Your obsessive, overprotective boss who had been crossing lines ever since that night and yet… You weren’t stopping him.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. "Jace… I just need time."

He stayed silent, watching you carefully. "I’m still trying to deal with everything. The nightmares, the fear…" You swallowed hard. "I can’t rush into something when I’m still trying to put myself back together."

Jace’s jaw clenched slightly, but then, to your relief, he nodded. "I get it," he said, voice softer than before. "I won’t push you."

You felt some of the tension in your chest loosen. "Thank you."

Jace exhaled, running a hand through his curls. "But just so we’re clear—" His gaze locked onto yours. "I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait as long as you need."

A warmth spread through you at his words, at the sincerity in his expression. "That means a lot to me, Jace."

He gave you a small smile. "Good."* Then, as if trying to shift the mood, he glanced at his watch. "Anyway, we should probably head out soon."

You blinked. "Head out?"

"Yeah. Shopping."

"Shopping?"

"For clothes." You frowned slightly. "Jace, I have clothes."*

"Do you?" He smirked, eyeing the oversized shirt you were still wearing. "Because all I’ve seen you wear for the past day is my stuff."

Your face burned. "That’s because I didn’t have anything else!"

"Exactly."

You rolled your eyes. "I can just go home and grab some of my own clothes."

Jace’s expression darkened instantly. "You’re not going back there."

Your stomach twisted. "Jace—"

"No." His voice was firm. You wanted to argue, but the look in his eyes told you it was useless. You sighed. "Fine. But I don’t need anything fancy. Just something simple."

Jace smirked. "Yeah, yeah. We’ll see." Something about the way he said it made you nervous.

The store was filled with racks of clothes that seemed perfectly chosen for the season, with soft lighting and music playing in the background. But Your fingers froze on the fabric of the dress you were holding. The voice was unmistakable, sending an unpleasant chill down your spine.

Slowly, you turned, and your stomach twisted when your gaze landed on him—one of his friends. His smirk was dripping with malice as he looked between you and Jace, eyes gleaming with sick amusement.

"So it’s true," he sneered, arms crossed. "You really are just a cheap slut who jumps into another man’s bed the second things get hard."*

You felt like you had been punched in the gut.

Jace, who had been flipping through a rack of clothes beside you, stilled. His entire posture changed in an instant—his shoulders tensed, his jaw clenched, and when he turned to look at the man, his eyes were dark with fury.

"What did you just say?" Jace’s voice was low, controlled, but there was an edge of pure danger underneath.

The guy scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I mean, look at her." He gestured toward you mockingly. "Still parading around in another man’s shirt like some desperate little thing. You didn’t even try to pretend, did you? No wonder—"

The words were cut off with a sharp crack.

You barely registered what had happened before the man stumbled back, clutching his face in shock. Jace stood in front of you now, his fist still clenched, his breathing heavy.

"Say one more word," Jace’s voice was calm—too calm. "I fucking dare you."

The man’s face twisted in anger. "You think you can—"

Jace grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him close until they were nearly nose to nose. "You and your pathetic little friends think you can intimidate her?" His voice dropped lower, his grip tightening. "Do you have any idea who you’re messing with?"

The man swallowed hard, his earlier arrogance faltering under Jace’s deadly gaze. "Jace," you whispered, placing a hesitant hand on his arm. "Let him go."

Jace didn’t move for a long moment, his chest rising and falling in barely contained rage. But then, with a disgusted scoff, he shoved the man back.

"Get the fuck out of here before I break your fucking jaw," Jace growled.

The man hesitated only for a second before scrambling to his feet and practically running out of the store. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Jace turned to you, his expression still stormy. "Are you okay?"

You nodded slowly, though your hands were still shaking. "Yeah. I just… I wasn’t expecting that."*

Jace exhaled sharply, running a hand through his curls. "He won’t come near you again."* His voice was firm, his eyes locking onto yours. "None of them will."

You swallowed. "Jace…"

"Come here," he murmured, reaching for you. You didn’t hesitate. You stepped into his arms, letting his warmth envelop you as he held you close.

Jace froze.

Your whispered confession sent ice through his veins, his grip on you tightening unconsciously. His entire body tensed as the words replayed in his head, as if his mind was refusing to believe what he had just heard.

You felt his arms tremble slightly around you.

"What did you just say?" His voice was barely above a whisper, but the rage simmering beneath it was unmistakable.

You swallowed, your fingers clutching onto the fabric of his shirt. "They… sometimes they would take turns," you whispered again, your voice almost too soft to be heard. "I didn’t know how to stop them. I thought if I just—if I just stayed quiet, it would be over faster."

Jace’s breath turned ragged, his heartbeat pounding against your ear where your head rested against his chest.

"I’ll kill them."* The words were spoken so softly, so calmly, yet they dripped with pure, unfiltered hatred. "I swear to god, I’ll kill them."

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him. His jaw was clenched so tightly it looked like it might break. His hands, still gripping you, were shaking. His eyes—those usually warm brown eyes—were dark, hollow, filled with an emotion so raw it scared you.

"Jace," you whispered, lifting a hand to touch his cheek. "I’ll be okay… as long as you’re with me."

His breath hitched at your words. His entire body seemed to be at war with itself—rage battling against the desperate need to protect you, to comfort you, to make sure you never had to feel that kind of fear again.

"You don’t understand," he said, voice shaking. "This isn’t something I can just let go, sweetheart. They don’t get to walk away after what they did to you."

You shook your head gently, your fingers tracing along his jaw. "I don���t want you to do something you’ll regret."

"The only thing I’ll regret is not making them suffer enough."

Your heart ached at his words. You knew Jace was not a violent man by nature, but you also knew that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for the people he cared about. And right now, you were at the center of his entire world.

You leaned up slightly, pressing your forehead against his. "I just need you," you whispered, closing your eyes. "I need you to be here. That’s enough for me."

Jace exhaled shakily, his hands slowly moving up your back, holding you as if you were the most fragile thing in the world.

"I’m here," he murmured. "I’m not going anywhere." For the first time in a long, long time, you believed it.

Jace carefully put the car into park and turned off the engine. The drive home had been quiet, aside from the soft sound of your breathing as you slept. You looked peaceful now, curled up slightly in your seat, your new clothes in a shopping bag at your feet. But all Jace could hear in his head were your words from earlier.

"They sometimes took turns."

He gritted his teeth, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. His jaw clenched so hard that it ached. The rage inside him had been simmering all day, barely contained beneath the surface, but he forced himself to stay calm. This wasn’t about him. This wasn’t about his anger. This was about you. And you needed rest, not the weight of his fury.

Jace exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head before turning to you.

"Sweetheart," he murmured softly, reaching over to brush his fingers gently against your cheek. "We’re home." You didn’t stir.

Jace huffed out a small, exasperated laugh, but there was nothing but warmth in his gaze as he looked at you. He hesitated for a moment before carefully undoing your seatbelt. Then, with an ease that only came naturally to him, he slid his arms underneath you and lifted you into his arms.

You barely even reacted, only letting out a soft sigh as you instinctively curled into his chest.

Jace swallowed thickly.

Holding you like this—so close, so trusting—made his protective instincts flare even more. He had no idea how you had survived everything you had gone through, how you were still standing, still smiling despite everything. But you shouldn’t have had to survive it and that was something Jace would never forgive.

He walked into the house with steady steps, kicking the door shut behind him. The house was dimly lit, silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioning. He carried you upstairs, straight to his bedroom, lowering you gently onto the bed.

You mumbled something incoherent in your sleep, shifting slightly, but didn’t wake.

Jace let out a breath, brushing a few stray strands of hair from your face. His fingers lingered against your cheek before he forced himself to pull away. He stepped back, running a hand through his hair, his mind still clouded with thoughts of your past.

Jace knew what needed to be done. He pulled out his phone, walking toward the balcony to make a call. The night air was cool against his skin, but his blood was still boiling. He pressed the phone to his ear and waited for the familiar voice on the other end.

"Jace," Aemond’s voice was sharp, knowing. "Tell me."

"It’s worse than we thought," Jace said, his voice low, dangerous. "Much worse." There was silence for a moment. Then Aemond sighed. "I’ll handle it."

"No." Jace’s grip on his phone tightened. "I want to be there."*

"Jace—"

"I need to be there," Jace snapped. "You don’t understand. They didn’t just hurt her, Aemond. They destroyed her. I want them to see my face before they beg for their lives."

Aemond was quiet again. Then, finally, "I’ll send you the details."* Jace ended the call and took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a brief moment. When he turned back to look at you, still fast asleep on his bed, his expression softened. He would take care of this. For you. For everything they had done to you.

Jace was focused on chopping vegetables when the familiar sound of heels clicking against the floor made him pause. He looked up just in time to see his mother, Rhaenyra, stepping into the kitchen, her sharp eyes scanning the space before landing on him.

"Cooking, are we?" she mused, arching an eyebrow. "That’s new." Jace sighed, setting the knife down. "Mother." He wiped his hands on a kitchen towel before turning to face her fully. "Thanks for coming."*

Rhaenyra gave him a knowing look, removing her coat and draping it over a chair. "You said it was important."*

Jace nodded, glancing toward the stairs before lowering his voice. "She’s asleep upstairs."*

Rhaenyra tilted her head slightly. "She?"

"Her name is—" Jace hesitated, then shook his head with a small chuckle. "I guess you’ll meet her soon enough."

Rhaenyra’s lips curled into a small smirk. "You’ve never invited me over to meet a woman before. Should I be flattered?"

Jace rolled his eyes. "It’s not like that. She…" He trailed off, running a hand through his hair before exhaling. "She’s been through hell, Mother. Worse than you can imagine."*

That made Rhaenyra pause. The teasing glint in her eyes faded slightly, replaced by something more serious. "Tell me."*

Jace clenched his jaw, staring at the cutting board for a moment before speaking. "She was trapped in an engagement with a bastard who abused her." His fingers curled into fists. "And not just him. His friends. They took turns—"

Rhaenyra inhaled sharply. "God."

"And he had leverage over her." Jace’s voice was tight, controlled rage lacing every word. "A video. He was threatening to release it if she left him."

Rhaenyra’s expression darkened, her shoulders tensing. "Where is he now?"

"Handled." Jace didn’t elaborate, and Rhaenyra didn’t ask. She knew what that meant. "But she’s still scared, Mother. I can’t leave her alone, not even for a second."

"And yet, you’re leaving tonight."* Rhaenyra’s tone was pointed. "Why?"

Jace hesitated, but there was no point in hiding it from her. "Because I need to make sure this never happens again. To her, or to anyone else."

Rhaenyra watched him for a long moment. Then, slowly, she nodded. "You’re your father’s son," she murmured. "Too much of him, sometimes."

Jace swallowed hard. His father. A man of action, not words. A protector. "Stay with her tonight," Jace said after a pause. "She trusts me, but I don’t want her to be alone."

Rhaenyra softened slightly, stepping forward to place a hand on his cheek. "Of course I’ll stay."

Jace exhaled, nodding. "Thank you."

Rhaenyra smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Go do what you have to do. But Jace…" She narrowed her gaze. "Come back to her in one piece."

Jace smirked slightly. "I will."

At that moment, they heard soft footsteps descending the stairs. Jace turned just as you appeared in the doorway, rubbing your eyes sleepily, still wearing his oversized shirt. You blinked in confusion when you saw Rhaenyra. "Oh…" Your voice was still groggy. "We have a guest?"

Jace smiled and gestured to his mother. "Yeah. This is my mother, Rhaenyra."

Rhaenyra stepped forward, her gaze softening. "You must be the woman my son can’t stop thinking about."

Your eyes widened slightly, glancing at Jace, who groaned. "Mother."

Rhaenyra only smirked. "Come, sit. Jace was cooking something, though whether it’s edible remains to be seen." Jace rolled his eyes, and you let out a small laugh. For the first time in a long time, things felt… light. Safe. Even if you didn’t know what was coming next.

You frowned slightly as you watched Jace grab his leather jacket from the chair, sliding it over his shoulders with practiced ease. There was something about the way he moved—controlled, purposeful, but also… tense. Like he was bracing himself for something.

"Where are you going?" you asked, your arms crossing over your chest.

Jace glanced at you briefly, then at his mother, Rhaenyra, who was watching the exchange silently from her seat. He exhaled through his nose, adjusting the sleeves of his jacket. "I just have to take care of something."

You didn’t like that answer. "Take care of what?"

"It’s nothing you need to worry about." His voice was even, calm, but you could tell he was deflecting.

"That’s not an answer, Jace." You stepped closer to him, tilting your head. "Why won’t you just tell me?"

Jace clenched his jaw slightly, his hands tightening at his sides. "Because it’s not something you should be involved in."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. "Is this about—" You hesitated, your voice lowering. "—him?"

Jace didn’t respond right away. Instead, he looked down, inhaling deeply before meeting your gaze again. "I just need to make sure this is over."

Something in his tone sent a chill down your spine. You weren’t naïve—you knew what kind of power Jace had, what kind of family he belonged to. His mother, Rhaenyra, and her brothers, Aemond and Aegon, weren’t just businessmen. They weren’t just wealthy elites. They were dangerous. And now, you were starting to realize just how far Jace was willing to go for you.

"Jace, you don’t have to—"

"Yes, I do." His voice was firm, unwavering. "I won’t let him haunt you anymore."

You swallowed hard. "But what if something happens to you?"

For the first time that night, Jace’s expression softened. He stepped closer, reaching up to brush his fingers against your cheek. "Nothing will happen to me," he murmured. "I promise."

You hated this. Hated that he was walking into something dangerous for you. Hated that you felt powerless to stop him. "Please don’t go." Your voice was barely a whisper. Jace sighed, his thumb tracing slow circles against your cheek. "I have to."

You clenched your fists, feeling frustration and fear twist in your chest. "Then take me with you."

Rhaenyra, who had been silent until now, let out a small chuckle. "That won’t be happening."

You turned toward her, frowning. "Why not?"

"Because," she said smoothly, standing up and adjusting the rings on her fingers, "you’ll be staying with me tonight. And I don’t take no for an answer."

You felt your frustration build, but Jace gently squeezed your wrist, drawing your attention back to him. "Stay here," he urged softly. "Please. Just for tonight."

You hated this. But you hated the thought of him walking away even more. Reluctantly, you nodded. "Fine."

Jace smiled slightly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before stepping back. "I’ll be back soon."

You watched as he walked out the door, the sound of his footsteps fading into the night. Something told you that when he returned… things wouldn’t be the same.

Jace stepped out of his car, his blood running hot as he took in the sight before him. Rows of black SUVs lined the abandoned warehouse, their tinted windows hiding the men inside. He recognized them instantly—Aemond’s and Aegon’s people. Loyal. Efficient. Ruthless.

His jaw clenched as he stalked toward the entrance, barely sparing a glance at the two men standing guard. They nodded in acknowledgment, stepping aside to let him through without a word. The heavy metal door groaned as he pushed it open, revealing the dimly lit interior of the warehouse.

The scent of blood and sweat hit him first. The muffled groans followed.

Aegon was the first person he saw. He leaned casually against a wooden crate, a cigarette dangling between his fingers, looking entirely at ease. His hair was slightly disheveled, his expensive suit speckled with something dark—blood, most likely.

"Took you long enough," Aegon drawled, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "We were starting to have fun without you."

Jace barely acknowledged him, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on the group of men in the center.

They were barely recognizable. Bruised. Bloodied. Tied to chairs. Some slumped over, barely conscious. Aemond stood among them, pristine as always, his single blue eye gleaming under the dim light. He held a bloodied knife in his gloved hand, turning it over between his fingers with a bored expression.

"You’re late," Aemond remarked, his voice smooth as silk. "We were just getting started."

Jace ignored the chill that ran down his spine. He had grown up around violence, around men like Aegon and Aemond, but he had never let himself sink into it the way they had. Yet tonight… tonight felt different.

His gaze landed on your ex-fiancé—the man who had haunted you for so long. The man who had tormented you. Jace’s hands curled into fists. "Untie him."*

Aemond arched a brow, but didn’t question it. He simply nodded toward one of his men, who stepped forward and cut the ropes binding the bastard to the chair.

Your ex slumped forward, coughing, spitting blood onto the concrete floor. When he looked up and saw Jace, he managed a weak, bitter laugh. "Ah… look who it is. The fucking knight in shining armor."

Jace didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. He simply stepped forward—one, two, three paces—before swinging his fist.

A sickening crack echoed through the warehouse as his knuckles connected with your ex’s jaw. The man let out a strangled noise, his head snapping to the side, but Jace didn’t stop. He grabbed him by the collar, hauling him up before slamming him back down onto the chair.

"You think you can do whatever you want and get away with it?" Jace’s voice was eerily calm, but the fury burning in his eyes was anything but. "You think you can hurt her and just walk away?"

Your ex spat out more blood, grinning through crimson-stained teeth. "What’s the matter, boss? Jealous that you can't fuck her like i did?"

Jace punched him again. Harder.

"She begged," the bastard continued, his voice rasping. "She moaned. She fucking loved it—"

Jace saw red.

The next thing he knew, he was on top of him, his fists colliding over and over with his face, his ribs, his gut. The bastard coughed and wheezed, but Jace didn’t stop.

"Say her name," he growled between blows. "Say her name, you coward."

Your ex-fiancé choked, struggling for air, but Jace didn’t let up. His knuckles split, blood—his or the bastard’s, he didn’t know—dripped onto the concrete.

"Enough," Aemond’s voice finally cut through the chaos.

Jace barely registered the hand gripping his shoulder, pulling him back. His breath came in ragged gasps, his vision blurred with fury. "He’s not worth dirtying your hands over," Aemond murmured, his voice almost amused. "We’ll handle the rest."

Jace hesitated, his entire body trembling. He wanted to keep going. He wanted to make sure this bastard never had the chance to hurt you—or anyone—again.

But Aemond was right.

Jace let out a sharp breath, pushing himself to his feet. He took one last look at the man bleeding out beneath him. "If I ever hear your name again… if I ever see you near her…" He leaned in, his voice deadly quiet. "You won’t be so lucky next time."*

Jace straightened, wiping the blood from his split knuckles onto his pants before turning away. Aegon chuckled, taking another drag of his cigarette. "Didn’t think you had it in you, nephew."

Jace wiped the blood from his knuckles, his breath still ragged as he stepped back. His heart pounded against his ribs, not from exertion, but from the raw fury still coursing through his veins. He wanted to keep going. He wanted to make them feel even an ounce of the pain they had inflicted on you. But then he remembered—this isn’t about me. It’s about her.

He turned, his gaze locking onto Aemond and Aegon, who watched him with knowing eyes. Aegon still had that smirk on his lips, but it had lost its usual arrogance. Aemond, ever the unreadable one, simply tilted his head slightly, studying Jace like he was something new. Something unfamiliar.

Jace exhaled sharply before speaking, his voice eerily calm but laced with something dark. "She told me something today."

Aegon raised an eyebrow, but Aemond didn’t move.

"She told me how they took turns," Jace continued, his fists clenching again. "How they held her down. How they laughed. How they made her beg."

Aegon’s smirk disappeared entirely. Aemond’s expression darkened.

Jace took a slow, measured step forward, his gaze never leaving theirs. "And you know what she said after that?" His voice wavered, but it wasn’t with weakness—it was with restrained rage. "She told me she would be okay… as long as I was there."*

Silence.

The air in the warehouse shifted, turning heavy, suffocating. Aegon and Aemond weren’t easily shaken, but now? Now they looked like statues, frozen in place, their expressions unreadable.

Because they knew.

They knew what those words meant.

Jace let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "She was trembling, sobbing into my chest, and she still had the strength to tell me she would be okay. But I saw it—I saw how broken she was. I heard it in her voice. I felt it in the way she clung to me."*

He looked down at his bloodied hands, disgusted. "And I just stood there, helpless, while she suffered alone for so long."*

Aemond’s jaw tensed, and Aegon muttered a curse under his breath, running a hand through his hair.

Jace finally looked back at them, his eyes colder than they had ever been. "So tell me—tell me why I shouldn’t rip them apart with my own hands."*

Aemond was the one who answered, his voice low, controlled. "Because that’s not your job, Jacaerys."* His eye flicked toward the barely breathing men on the floor. "It’s ours."*

Jace clenched his jaw, but he knew Aemond was right. He didn’t belong in this world, not like they did. But for you? He would burn everything down.

Aegon sighed, flicking his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. "We’ll take care of it," he said, his tone surprisingly serious. "They’ll never touch her again. They won’t even exist when we’re done."

Jace stood still, his breathing still uneven as he watched Aemond crouch down in front of your ex-fiancé, pressing the cold barrel of his gun against the man’s temple. The pathetic excuse of a man whimpered, his body trembling violently. Blood dripped from his swollen lip, mixing with the sweat on his face.

Aemond tilted his head, his single eye glowing with something far more dangerous than rage—it was amusement. Contempt. "You know," he started, his voice soft, eerily calm, "I’ve done many things in my life. I’ve killed men. I’ve burned down businesses. I’ve taken apart people, piece by piece. But you?" A small, humorless smirk pulled at his lips. "You disgust me."*

The man whimpered, shaking his head frantically. "P-please—"

"Please?" Aemond echoed mockingly. "Oh, that’s rich. Did she beg you? Did she cry? Did she plead for mercy?" His voice dropped lower, sharp as a blade. "And what did you do? Laugh? Tell her to be a good girl?"

Jace clenched his fists so tightly his nails dug into his palms. He wanted to tear the man apart. He wanted to make him suffer. But he had done his part. This was Aemond and Aegon’s world now.

Aemond pressed the gun harder against the man’s forehead, making him flinch. "You see, we have rules," he continued, his voice laced with venom. "We kill. We manipulate. We control. But we don’t do what you did." His eye darkened, his lips curling in disgust. "We don’t prey on the weak. We don’t break something so completely that it may never heal."

The man let out a choked sob, his body jerking as he tried to move away, but Aegon was behind him, pushing him back down with a forceful grip. "You don’t deserve an easy death," Aegon muttered, his usual arrogance replaced with something cold.

Jace turned away, inhaling deeply through his nose. "Make it slow," he murmured. "Make him feel every second of it." Aemond chuckled darkly, finally pulling the safety off his gun. "Oh, don't worry, nephew." His voice was smooth, almost gentle. "We intend to."

Jace didn’t stay to watch. He had no interest in what happened next. His mind was already back with you. With your soft voice, your trembling hands, your fragile smile. You had told him you would be okay as long as he was by your sidea and he had promised himself—no one would ever hurt you again.

Jace’s breath hitched, his heart pounding violently in his chest. His fingers curled into fists, his nails digging into his palms so hard they nearly broke skin. He turned swiftly, his eyes burning with fury as he stalked toward the man who had spoken.

"What did you just say?" His voice was dangerously low, a sharp contrast to the sheer rage radiating off him.

The bastard smirked, lips curling in amusement. "You heard me," he sneered. "There’s more. Some where she was fully woke up... and some where she wasn’t."

Aemond’s grip on his gun tightened. Even Aegon, who usually had a twisted sense of humor, had gone still, his expression unreadable.

Jace lunged, grabbing the man by his shirt and yanking him so close their noses nearly touched. "Where?" he growled, his breath hot and heavy. "Where are the videos stored?"

The man chuckled, completely unfazed by the sheer malice in Jace’s tone. "You think I’d tell you?" he taunted. "It doesn’t matter anyway. The upload is already set. Three hours from now, and the whole world will see just how much of a whore she really is."*

Something inside Jace snapped. Without thinking, he pulled back his fist and slammed it into the man’s face with all the strength he had. The impact sent a sickening crack through the air, blood spraying as the man’s head jerked to the side.

"Talk," Jace hissed, his voice a whisper of pure, unfiltered rage. "Tell me where it is, or I swear on my life, I will make you wish you were dead."*

Aemond stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Jace’s shoulder. "Give me five minutes," he murmured, his voice eerily calm. "He’ll talk."*

Jace didn’t hesitate. He let go, stepping back as Aemond crouched in front of the bleeding man.

"Now, now " Aemond said, adjusting his grip on his gun, "let’s play a game. Every time you lie, I take something from you."

The man’s face paled, his smirk faltering for the first time. "Y-you wouldn’t—"

Aemond fired.

The room echoed with the deafening sound of a gunshot. The man let out a bloodcurdling scream, clutching his hand where his pinky finger used to be. Blood dripped onto the floor, pooling around his trembling body.

"That was just for fun," Aemond mused, tilting his head. "Now, let’s try again." Jace watched, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He didn’t care what Aemond had to do. He didn’t care how much blood was spilled.

All he cared about was you and he would burn the world before he let it hurt you again.

Jace’s patience had worn dangerously thin. His hands trembled with unrestrained fury as he snatched the gun from Aemond, ignoring the sharp warning look his uncle shot him. He didn’t care. There was no time left.

He pressed the cold barrel of the gun against the bastard’s forehead, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. "Where is it?" he barked, his voice raw with barely contained rage. "I swear to the god, if you don’t tell me right now, I will splatter your fucking brains all over this floor!"

The man whimpered, his eyes darting between Jace and Aemond. He was shaking now, his bloodied hands twitching as he tried to inch away. "You... you wouldn’t—"

Jace clicked the safety off. "Try me."

Aegon, who had been leaning lazily against the wall, whistled low. "I’d talk if I were you," he said casually. "Jace isn’t usually like this. But when he snaps? Well... you’ve seen what happens."

Aemond, still crouched beside them, smirked. "I’d say you have about ten seconds before he actually pulls the trigger."

"Alright! Alright!" The man’s voice cracked, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. "It’s... it’s in my phone!"*

Jace narrowed his eyes. "Bullshit," he spat. "We already took your phone. There's nothing there."*

"No—no!" he stammered. "It’s backed up! Cloud storage! There’s a scheduled upload! It’s linked to my laptop!"

Jace’s grip on the gun tightened. "Where is it?"

"My apartment!" the man gasped. "The files are on my laptop in my apartment! The password is in my notes app! I—I swear that’s all there is!"

Jace exchanged a glance with Aemond, his chest rising and falling rapidly. There was no way he could take this bastard’s word for it.

"Aegon," Jace growled, "get his phone and unlock it. Now."

Aegon pushed off the wall with a sigh, fishing the man’s phone from his pocket. "What’s the password?" he asked lazily, flipping the device in his hand.

The man swallowed hard. "My birthday... zero five, twenty-three, ninety-two."

Aegon smirked. "Cute." He tapped the numbers in, and sure enough, the screen unlocked. He scrolled for a moment before letting out a satisfied hum. "Notes app... here we go."

Jace didn’t lower the gun, his heart still hammering against his ribs. "Aemond, go. Get to that apartment and wipe everything."

Aemond didn’t hesitate. He stood, adjusting his coat. "Give me twenty minutes."

As he turned to leave, the man beneath Jace whimpered, "You said you wouldn’t kill me!"

Jace let out a humorless laugh, pressing the gun even harder against his skull. "I never said that."

Jace’s breathing was ragged, his hands gripping the phone so tightly his knuckles turned white. His pulse pounded in his ears as he scrolled through the files, each one labeled with cruel, mocking names. Twenty four videos. Twenty fucking four. His stomach churned with a mixture of rage and nausea.

Aegon stood beside him, arms crossed, watching his nephew with an unreadable expression. "Told you it was worse than you thought," he muttered.

Jace ignored him. His thumb hesitated over the first file before finally tapping it open. His jaw clenched so hard it hurt as the screen lit up with the sight of you.

You were lying on a bed, your eyes half-lidded, body limp. Your voice—soft, broken—murmured something he couldn’t make out, but the desperation in your tone was unmistakable. Jace's entire body locked up as he saw the way those bastards touched you, the way you flinched, how your fingers weakly gripped the sheets.

"Turn it off," Aemond’s voice was sharp. He had just returned from the bastard’s apartment, his coat slightly damp from the night air. "Jace, don’t watch that."*

But Jace couldn’t stop. His hands were shaking as he scrolled to another video, then another. Each one worse than the last. Aegon exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temple. "This is beyond fucked up."

Jace finally snapped. "You think I don’t know that?!" he roared, hurling the phone against the wall. The screen shattered upon impact, but the damage had already been done. The images were seared into his mind.

He turned back to the bodies on the floor—lifeless now, blood pooling beneath them. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

"Did you erase everything?" he demanded, his voice hoarse.

Aemond nodded. "Their devices are wiped. The cloud backups? Gone." He paused before adding, "But that won’t erase it from her mind."*

Jace let out a slow, shuddering breath. He knew that. No matter how many files he destroyed, how many people he killed, it wouldn’t take away what they had done to you. The nightmares, the fear—it would all still be there.

"She’s waiting for you," Aemond said quietly. "Don’t make her go through this alone."

Jace didn’t need to be told twice. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode out, his mind set on one thing—getting back to you.

Jace exhaled sharply, trying to steady his trembling hands as he looked at his mother. The blood on his knuckles had already begun to dry, staining his skin in deep crimson. His heart was still pounding, his body still buzzing with the remnants of rage.

Rhaenyra’s gaze was unreadable, flickering between the blood on his hands and the haunted look in his eyes. "You should clean up first," she said softly, though there was a firmness in her tone. "She’s asleep now. She doesn’t need to see you like this."

Jace clenched his jaw, glancing toward the staircase. He wanted to go to you—needed to—but he knew his mother was right. You’d already been through so much, and the last thing he wanted was to wake you up in the middle of the night covered in blood.

"Did she wake up at all?" he asked, his voice rough from exhaustion.

Rhaenyra shook her head. "No. But she was restless."*

Jace cursed under his breath. Of course you were. Even in your sleep, you couldn’t escape what had been done to you. His mother sighed and stepped forward, gently placing a hand on his arm. "Jace…" she hesitated before continuing, "Is it over?"

Jace let out a slow breath, his eyes dark. "Yes." He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to. The bodies were still lying in a bloodstained warehouse, their screams still echoing in his head. But it was done. They would never hurt you again.

Rhaenyra studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Go clean yourself up. I’ll stay here until you’re done."*

Jace nodded, dragging himself upstairs. He peeled off his bloodstained clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the scalding water burn away the evidence of the night. But no matter how much he scrubbed, he couldn’t get rid of the weight in his chest.

Once he was done, he threw on a clean shirt and sweatpants before quietly making his way to the bedroom.

You were curled up under the blankets, your face peaceful in sleep, but he could still see the faint traces of dried tears on your cheeks. His chest ached. He gently sat on the edge of the bed, watching you for a moment before hesitantly brushing a few strands of hair away from your face.

You stirred at the touch, blinking up at him sleepily. "Jace…?"

"It’s okay," he whispered. "Go back to sleep. I’m here."*

Without thinking, you reached for him, your fingers curling around his wrist. "Stay?"

Jace swallowed hard, nodding as he slid under the blankets beside you. You immediately curled into his warmth, your head resting against his chest.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as he pressed a soft kiss to your hair. "I’m not going anywhere."*

And for the first time that night, he finally let himself breathe.

Jace stared at the ceiling, his body tense, his mind refusing to rest. Sleep was impossible—not after what he had seen.

Those videos.

Each frame was burned into his memory, each desperate cry of yours clawing at his sanity. He had thought he knew rage before, thought he had reached the peak of his fury when he had put bullets in those bastards' skulls. But this—this was something else. A different kind of anger. One that seeped into his bones, poisoning him from the inside out.

His fingers curled into fists, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. The only thing grounding him was the feeling of you in his arms.

You stirred, shifting slightly in your sleep. A soft whimper left your lips before you curled deeper into his embrace, your hand tightening around the fabric of his shirt. Jace inhaled sharply, his anger momentarily replaced by something far more fragile.

His grip on you instinctively tightened, his hand moving up and down your back in slow, soothing strokes. "I got you," he murmured, barely above a whisper. "No one's ever touching you again."*

You let out a quiet sigh, your body relaxing under his touch. Jace’s throat tightened. He wished he could take all your pain away, wished he could erase the memories from your mind the way he had erased those men from existence. But it wasn’t that simple.

You had been strong for so long. Too long. And now, it was his turn to be strong for you.

His gaze flickered to the faint traces of tears on your cheeks, barely visible under the moonlight. A bitter taste filled his mouth. He had been too late. He should have been there. Should have stopped it before it ever happened.

Guilt gnawed at him, but then you moved again, pressing your face against his chest, a small sound escaping you. It was barely a whisper, but he heard it.

"Jace…"

His breath hitched. "I’m here."

He thought you had fallen back asleep, but then you spoke again, your voice hoarse. "Do you think… I’ll ever be normal again?"

Jace's heart twisted painfully. He shifted, propping himself up slightly so he could look down at you. "Hey, look at me."*

You hesitated before lifting your gaze to meet his. There was so much pain there, so much uncertainty. "You are not broken," he said firmly. "They don’t get to take that from you. They don’t get to decide who you are."

Your lip trembled. "Then why do I feel like they did?"

Jace clenched his jaw. He hated this. Hated that you were questioning your worth because of what they had done.

"Because they tried to break you," he admitted. "But they didn’t. You’re still here. You’re still you. And you’re stronger than you think."*

You let out a shaky breath, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, hesitantly, you reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "Thank you," you whispered. "For everything."*

Jace exhaled slowly, squeezing your hand. "I’ll always be here. Always."

And this time, he meant it more than anything else in his life.

Jace felt his heart drop as your quiet confession filled the room.

"I tried so many times…" Your voice trembled, barely above a whisper. "I wanted it to stop. I thought… maybe if I disappeared, they would finally stop. But every time I tried, it only got worse. Like they knew. Like they enjoyed seeing me suffer."

Jace’s grip on you tightened. His throat burned with the effort of holding back the rage that surged inside him like a wildfire. He wanted to scream, to break something, to go back and kill those bastards again just for the way they had made you feel.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he did the only thing he could—he pulled you against him, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "You don’t ever say that again," he whispered harshly against your hair. "Don’t you dare think that way. They don’t get to win. They don’t get to take you away."

You swallowed hard, your fingers gripping onto his shirt like a lifeline. "But they already did, Jace. They took everything."

Jace closed his eyes, inhaling deeply to steady himself. "Not everything. They didn’t take you from me."

You let out a shaky breath, but you didn’t argue. Instead, you just pressed closer, like you were trying to absorb some of his strength.

Jace hesitated. He wanted to tell you the truth—that there were more videos. That what he had seen, what Aegon and Aemond had seen, was so much worse than what you knew. That even now, when they had sucssed on tracking down every last copy, ensuring that none of it would ever see the light of day.

But he couldn’t.

He knew you. He knew that if you found out, it would break you. And after everything you had been through, after everything you had barely survived, he would not let that happen.

So he swallowed the truth and whispered instead, "You’re safe now. No one is ever touching you again. I swear it."*

"But what if—"

"No ‘what ifs’." Jace pulled back just enough to cup your face, forcing you to look at him. "I won’t let anything happen to you. I don’t care what I have to do, who I have to go through. You’re mine to protect now."

You searched his eyes for a long moment before something in you seemed to crack. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you broke down completely, your body shaking as sobs tore through you.

Jace didn’t say anything. He just held you. He let you cry, let you release all the pain you had been forced to carry alone for so long. And as he did, he silently vowed— Whatever it took, whatever price he had to pay—he would make sure you never suffered again.

Tag list : @danytar @hangmanscoming @julessworldd @yazzzmints @callsignwidow @giirlinblack @searatarg @vaelry @ashblooddragons

[cinnamongay]

tagged by @dykescully to share ten songs on shuffle 🫡

(side note clem ur soo right i'm also going to use my on repeat playlist <3)

treat me like a slut - kim petras (this song makes me feel like i did 10 different drugs and i absolutely love it)

america has a problem - beyonce, kendrick lamar (was listening to this in the shower today it’s soo catchy)

escapism. - raye, 070 shake (the build up during this song gets me every time)

chemical - post malone (filed under songs that will remind me of this summer)

hate yourself - tv girl (you. you’d fall in love with anyone. who fell. in. love. with. you.)

dreams - the cranberries (i blame yellowjackets for getting it stuck in my head, not that i’m complaining it’s a great song)

push it down - l devine (the chorus .)

nobody gets me - sza (if i cried while she sang this live that’s my business)

satellite - harry styles (she’s fun!)

unhealthy - anne marie, shania twain (oh this SLAPPED live honestly after hearing her perform twice now i may have become a little stan, she’s SO cute!)

tagging: @holi-holy @marc-here @lottieurl @gidguard @femmme @funky-birb @kuminemo @mrokat @eyeofdog @girloftheaveragevariety

[hobbithoes]

I LOVE YOUR DURGE!!!! she is so beautiful and i haven't seen your art in a while and it blew me away with how good it is :") i wanna know everything about her!!

THANK U!!!! >:) I’ve been getting back into it and it’s been fun! I have a bunch of just little stuff I put in my notes when I’m playing so I’ll just paste them here 😎

• fave dyes are harlequin black and white, sage green, and I forgot the exact name but the brown and white one

• has a gap toof 🦷

•Besties r karlach and shadowheart, sh is her drankinggg buddy 🍷 don’t trust ur wine around them FOREAL‼️

• astarion romance, she thinks it’s super hot that he’s a vampire lol. NGL though if shadowheart talked to her first at the party after the goblin camp it woulda been a different story 😈 bit of … energy between them !

• Really chatty girl as long as she’s not sad or her urges aren’t active atm. Pretty lighthearted for the most part just yapping as long as her urges aren’t acting up lately 😳 that’s usually how her companions notice it’s acting up again, she won’t stfu all day then they’re like huh that’s weird haven’t heard her say anything in a while, let me look back at her rq and girlie hits em with 1 of these looks :

• Likes to draw, she draws for funsies and sometimes to try to channel her urges into something, she’ll trance out and literally look like she’s tweaking and be whispering to herself all crazy and twitching and like ripping the paper with how hard she’s drawing LOL. She likes to keep them separated with 2 diff sketchbooks, they look like totally different people drew them and it’s all just gory shit if it’s the urge drawing , otherwise it’s nice and soft and mostly plants and sketches of cool loot 😎

• triggers all the traps #ethelgivemyeyeback💔😢

• In game I decorated a little space for her, I just wish it moved across diff camps and acts of the game tho 😡

[rosicheeks]

i am a little worried about you Princess. are you ok?

[flowersforbucky]

for always and ever is always for you

old man!logan x healer!reader

word count: 15.2k

summary: logan is getting sicker by the day, and charles' seizures are occurring more and more frequently. logan didn't think he'd ever see you again - but desperate times call for desperate measures.

warnings/tags: 18+ only mdni, smut, descriptions of blood and illness, angst, logan's pov, reader is afab, language, slow burn as far as one-shots go, no use of y/n, caliban being sassy, mutual pining, friends to lovers, unprotected p in v, oral (m&f receiving), face sitting, cream pie, some dirty talk and pet names

author's note: thank you @embbarnes for reading this and letting me rant about it and assuring me that it's worth posting 🫶🏻 this took me an embarrassing amount of time and i have to say i am pretty proud of it. flashbacks are in italics

divider by @saradika-graphics!

“This is the third time in the last week, you know.”

Logan stares down at the deep red splatters of blood that creep towards the drain. The skin of his knuckles begin to turn white from how harshly he grips the edges of the sink – he’s surprised the ceramic doesn’t shatter. He turns the faucet on, lowering his lips to the weak stream to collect enough water to rinse the taste of iron from his mouth.

“I know that,” Logan spits the now pink tinged water into the bowl and then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You don’t think I fuckin’ know that? I’m the one hacking my lungs up here.” He shoves past Caliban, exiting the small bathroom.

Logan doesn’t want to snap at him – hates that it happens as often as it does. But right now he’s late for work and the last thing he needs is to hear Caliban harping on about this again while he scrambles to find his car keys.

“You know I hate to keep bringing this up,” Caliban continues as he follows Logan into the makeshift kitchen of the abandoned smelting plant.

“I find that hard to believe,” Logan mumbles under his breath. He finds his keys hidden under some junk mail and shoves them in his coat pocket before pouring himself some coffee to take with him to work. It’s day old and not as strong as he’d like for it to be, but he’ll be glad that he has it when midnight rolls around.

“Charles,” Caliban continues. “The medications are doing very little to help him anymore. We’re having to give him twice as much as we were a month ago, which means we are running out twice as fast. He’s getting worse. You both are. We need to find a… specialist that can help with both of our problems.”

Logan snorts in response, practically able to feel Caliban’s eyes burning holes in the back of his head.

“There ain’t a thing that any doctor can do for me and you know it.”

Maybe Logan hasn’t had the flu, or strep throat, or even the common cold in two hundred odd years, but he knows there’s no prescription that any physician can write that would stop his very bones from poisoning him.

“Let me rephrase that, then. Not a doctor. You need to see a healer.”

Logan freezes, his posture going rigid.

“If you’re about to say what I think you’re going to say, I suggest shutting the fuck up.”

“He’s had a record number of seizures so far this week,” Caliban implores. “You’re barely standing upright. There’s a chance that she could help you both.”

“She’s out of the question,” Logan spits before storming past him. He yanks the door open and slams it closed behind him as he steps into the late evening Mexico sun.

How does Caliban even know about you? Some of Charles’ rambling in his rare moments of lucidity, no doubt.

It doesn’t matter if you can help or not.

For a lot of reasons, it doesn’t matter.

The most obvious one being he hasn’t talked to you in over a year and doesn’t know where the fuck you’re at.

••••••

“You don’t have to stay back there, you know. You can come closer. You’re not in my way.”

There’s no hint of condescension in your voice. Only patience, and reassurance. Still, Logan doesn’t budge from his position in the corner of the mansion’s infirmary.

You don’t press him any further.

He had lost track of how long he’d been standing here, just watching in complete silence as you tend to the young mutant’s injuries.

Logan doesn’t even know the kid’s name. He doesn’t know any of their names. But he’d been the one to find all five of them in a locked cell on today’s mission, and he isn’t going to leave this room until he knows that they are all okay.

You’d already taken care of four out of the five. They now rest peacefully in individual beds, no doubt the warmest and safest they’ve been in God knows how long.

Your hands hover a few inches above a young boy’s chest, emitting a pale purple glow as you wave them over his torso, letting your powers radiate from your palms into his body.

Logan notices the color of your power isn’t as vibrant as it was when you’d healed the first child’s injuries, or the second, or third. Originally a bright violet, it’s now a lackluster lavender.

He also doesn't miss the way that you suddenly close your eyes with furrowed brows, but he remains in the corner, watching you carefully. You dig your teeth into the flesh of your bottom lip in concentration, causing Logan to take an involuntary step forward at the pained expression on your face.

Your hands drop down to the railing of the bed that the boy lays in, clutching the bars to keep you from falling over as the energy you’d been emitting fades away.

“Shit,” you huff, out of breath. A thin layer of perspiration glistens on your forehead.

“What’s wrong?” Logan asks as he moves closer to you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you grunt, nodding as you look up at him. You give him a forced smile that does very little to reassure him. “I’m fine. It’s just been a while since I’ve had to use so much of my powers in such a short amount of time.”

“Maybe you should sit down for a minute, yeah?” Logan looks around the infirmary, walking a few feet away to grab a chair for you. He places it next to the bed that you’re still using for support.

“I’ll be as good as new soon,” you assure him as you take a seat. “This happens occasionally.”

Logan stands beside you, awkwardly leaning against the edge of an empty bed next to the boy’s. He watches as you lean forward, taking the kid’s small hand in your own. There’s no resurgence of purple – you’re simply holding it. The boy is sound asleep, so the act makes Logan wonder if it’s for his comfort or your own.

“If I exert too much energy at once, I feel the effects of it. Not enough to really hurt me, just.. leave me feeling like I need to sleep for a week,” you explain with a weak chuckle. Logan’s eyes are fixated on the way that your thumb soothes over the skin of the boy’s hand.

“A gift that comes with a price,” Logan murmurs. “I know how that feels. Though it sometimes feels more like a curse in my case.” He instinctively glances down at his knuckles, his claws sheathed away.

“I can see how it would feel that way,” you agree, glancing up at him with a soft expression. “But it’s not what your power is that determines whether it’s a curse or a gift. It’s what you do with it. And these kids are alive because of you. A lot of people are, because you choose to use it for good. I’d say that makes it a gift.”

“I guess I should try to look at it that way more often,” he hums.

“Plus, having the ability to heal yourself has gotta be pretty neat. I think you’re the only person here who would never have to ask me for my help.” You glance back up at him, a hint of a smirk ghosting your lips.

They’re pretty, he thinks – your lips. He mentally scolds himself, knowing now isn’t the time or place to be thinking about your lips.

“You can count on that, bub.”

When Logan wakes, he doesn’t have the chance to mourn the memory he’d found himself reliving in his sleep.

He does find himself on the floor by his bed with the breath knocked from his lungs. His hands come to shield his ears, attempting to block out the high-pitched shrieking that makes his ear canals feel as if they are filling with blood.

Judging by the sunlight streaming into his room through the thin, tattered curtains covering his windows, he guesses that it’s mid-afternoon. He couldn’t have been asleep for more than a few hours – meaning it also couldn’t have been more than a few hours since he had given Charles his most recent dose of medicine.

With the world shaking around him, a half empty bottle of liquor and an old coffee mug both shatter as they fall off of his bedside table and hit the ground.

Logan and Caliban had recently cleared off all shelves in the smelting plant, moving anything that could potentially fall and break during one of Charles’ episodes closer to the ground, but after a long night of driving around drunk assholes, it’s easy to forget that even a ceramic cup on a small table is a hazard.

He can tell by the way that the air around him feels as if it weighs ten tons that Charles has to be close by. He musters all of his strength to force himself to his feet. Each movement feels as if he’s in slow motion as he fights against the psionic energy that works to keep him frozen in place.

As slow as if he has hundred pound weights attached to each of his feet, he makes his way from his bedroom and to the common area. When he turns the corner, he first sees Caliban, still as a statue with his facial features contorted in agony and his typically alabaster skin turning redder by the second from the pain. He’s less than a foot away from where Charles sits in his wheelchair, where he appears to have been watching a movie.

Logan frantically looks around the room, searching for where he had placed the bag of injections and pills when he’d forced Charles into swallowing his last dose just a few hours ago.

He finds it on what is used as a dining room table. It’s sheer good luck that Logan had thought to prepare an emergency dose of the injection earlier that day, most likely thanks to Caliban’s lecture from yesterday evening still looming in the back of his mind.

After what feels like hours, Logan finally reaches Charles with the injection and plunges the needle into his chest. The second that the medication enters his system, the seizure ceases.

Caliban and Logan both collapse to the ground in relief. Logan clutches his chest, trying to steady his heartbeat and regulate his breathing.

“You dream of her just as she dreams of you,” Charles whimpers through labored breaths.

“What?” Logan snaps, glaring at Charles from his position on the dirty floor. His ears must still be ringing from the effects of the seizure, because he can’t have heard him right. “Quit reading my mind.”

“Your thoughts are always loud when you think of her,” Charles murmurs, turning his attention back to the movie on the screen in front of him as if nothing had happened.

It's the first time, Logan realizes, that Charles has mentioned you since the day of his first seizure. Even without specifically saying your name, Logan knows exactly who he’s referring to.

“Make that four incidents this week,” Caliban grumbles as he jerks the plastic bag filled with medication out of Logan’s hand. He digs through it, pulling out a pill bottle and dumping two into his palm. “He’s averaging an episode per day, and each one feels stronger than the last. It’s only a matter of time before he kills–”

“Do you know where she’s at? Can you track her?” Logan interrupts him. Caliban pauses to look at him, visibly annoyed.

“Oh, so it’s a good idea now that he–” he jabs a finger in Charles’ direction, “mentions her once, is it?” He stomps over to where Charles watches the television, seemingly oblivious to the conversation happening right beside him.

“Take these. Both of them.” He shoves them into Charles’ palm and then storms past Logan.

“Didn’t say anything about it being a good idea,” Logan grunts, following him into the kitchen. “But you seem to think it is and I don’t know what else to do. So can you find her or not?”

“Of course I can,” Caliban retorts defensively. “As long as you have something with her scent on it.”

Logan throws his hands up in frustration, and then rakes one hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“I haven’t seen her in over a year. Why would I have anything that smells like her?”

“It doesn’t have to be dosed in her favorite perfume,” Caliban huffs. “But I can’t track anyone without some amount of their scent to go off of.”

“Goddammit,” Logan groans between gritted teeth. He turns in the opposite direction, heading back to his bedroom.

He thinks back to the last time that he saw you – the last time that his life had any sense of normalcy. The day of Charles’ first seizure, the day that he saw seven of his friends die, you weren’t there. By some miracle, you had been out of town.

But a few days before that – it had been snowing. It was the first snow of winter and you had taken a group of younger students to play outside in the middle of class.

Logan was called over by a few of the kids who begged him to help make a snowman. You kept to the sidelines, watching him with the students, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself to keep your cardigan pulled securely around your chest.

He remembers pausing what he was doing to run over to you and insist that you take his jacket until you were all back inside. He remembers how much he liked seeing you wear it, and how silly he felt when he didn’t like that you remembered to give it back.

He remembers being enveloped in the smell of honey and cream when he shrugged the jacket back onto his own shoulders. Less than a week later, he found himself in Mexico with no need to wear such a heavy leather jacket.

It's now been over a year since he’s so much as touched it.

Logan begins rifling through the drawers of the dresser that looks to be as old as he is, containing all of the clothing that he owns. It doesn’t take but a few seconds until he recognizes the feeling of the worn leather against his fingertips.

He brings the jacket up to his nose, inhaling where your skin and hair had rest against the collar. He breathes in deep, concentrating on the scent that transports him back to before his life was completely uprooted and turned upside down. With his eyes closed, it’s easy for him to let himself believe he’s standing in the kitchen of the mansion with your arms around his neck.

It's faint. If he didn’t have enhanced senses, he may not have been able to detect it at all. But it’s there – familiar and nostalgic and unmistakably you.

••••••

It takes Caliban all of sixty seconds to pinpoint your location.

Logan doesn’t quite know how to feel about learning that there’s only one state in-between the two of you. He wasn’t sure where he expected you to be, really – it doesn’t surprise him that you didn’t stay in the state of New York, and he didn’t think you would return to your hometown, but knowing that you’ve possibly been just a half day’s drive away from him this entire time makes a lot of emotions surface that he’s been trying to push down for the last year.

He begins the drive just after six in the morning. By the time the sun starts to set that evening, he enters the city limits of Silverton, Colorado.

Nestled in the snow-capped Rockies, the small town couldn’t be more polar opposite of where he has resided for the last thirteen months. The stark differences nearly cause him to turn his limousine around and head back to the smelting plant without even bothering you – if you’d chosen somewhere like this to live, there’s no way you’d be content with the brutal, dry heat of northern Mexico.

But this is the closest he’s been to you in nearly four hundred days, and despite the fact that he’s spent the last ten hours of this car ride thinking about what he’s going to say to you and still doesn’t fucking know, he can’t bring himself to go back to Mexico without trying.

Without at least seeing your face. Without at least seeing for himself that you’re doing okay.

He knows it’s selfish. He knows he made his choice when he took Charles to Mexico without even letting you know that they were alive. It doesn’t matter that he had his reasons for doing so, it doesn’t matter how much it killed him inside – he made his choice and he should have to live with it, without disturbing your peace and asking any of this of you.

He justifies it by telling himself that it’s for Charles, and Caliban. Maybe it’s his pride, but he refuses to make his ailing health your responsibility. Asking you to help with Charles is already asking too much.

He turns down a dirt road, following the approximate – not exact – instructions that Caliban had provided. Thankfully, it’s a small town in both size and population, so it doesn’t take him too long to find the neighborhood that Caliban had described.

He knows he has found the right house when he sees your car. He recognizes it instantly due to the cracked rear bumper that you still have yet to have replaced and its unique sage green color that peaks through the light dusting of snow.

He pulls into your driveway, parking his limousine next to your vehicle and turns off the engine. He takes in the appearance of your home – a small, cozy cabin with smoke erupting from the chimney. All of your curtains are pulled closed but there’s enough light peaking through them for him to know that you’re inside.

The thought occurs to him that he might not find you alone. It’s been over a year – you could have found someone to build a life with. They could pull into this very driveway at any moment. Hell, you could have a baby for all he knows. He might be seconds away from learning that you have a whole family of your own–

His thoughts only stop spiraling when he sees your front door swing open, your face peeking around the frame a second later. Confusion is etched across your features as you notice the limousine parked in front of your porch.

You don’t yet know that it’s him due to the limousine’s tinted windows, he realizes.

You exit the house, stepping onto your front porch with your arms crossed over your chest as you wait for the driver of the vehicle to make themselves known.

You haven’t aged a day. Your hair being longer than the last time he saw you is the only physical proof that any time has passed at all.

Logan attempts to clear his face of all of the emotions coursing through him and opens the driver’s side door, stepping out of the vehicle.

Thanks to the adamantium poisoning his body, his eyesight has started to decline over the last few months. But Logan doesn’t need to have his glasses on to know that you look like you’re seeing a ghost.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets you in a cautious voice. He stays planted where he’s at, waiting for you to respond before coming any closer to the front porch steps.

He swears he watches you go through all five stages of grief in under a minute. Confusion fades to shock, shock turns to denial, and denial morphs into anger before you’re left with a blank expression.

“I know I’ve got a lotta explaining to do,” Logan starts. “If you’ll let me, I’ll answer every question you have. I’m just asking you to hear me out.”

It takes every ounce of self-restraint that he possesses to not walk up the steps of your porch and wrap you in his arms. He may be standing just a few feet away from you, but it doesn’t feel real. He’s convinced that at any moment, he’ll wake up back in his pathetic excuse of a bedroom in the smelting plant.

You take a few small, tentative steps forward. Your eyes never leave his, an unreadable expression on your face. Logan can’t tell if you’re trying to decide if he’s real, if you’re about to jump into his arms, or if you’re about to yell at him to get the fuck out of here.

You come to a stop on the bottom porch step.

“What’s the deal with the limousine?” You nod towards the vehicle behind him.

“I’m uh – I’m a limousine driver,” he answers lamely.

“A limousine driver,” you repeat with raised brows, though it doesn’t sound like a question. “You know, there have been a lot of nights that I’ve laid awake wondering where you’re at and what you’re doing. Of all the possibilities, I never considered limo driver.”

Logan opens his mouth to respond, but quickly shuts it again when you turn on your heel, walking back up the steps and to the front door. You pause before you cross the entryway, looking back at him over your shoulder.

“Take your shoes off at the door. Don’t be tracking snow into my house.”

Logan watches you retreat into the house, his body frozen in place. As far as initial reactions go, he supposes that could have been significantly worse – but he knows he isn’t out of the woods yet.

He follows you inside, kicking his boots off at the door and closing it behind him.

The inside of your house is warm, thanks to the gentle fire going in the fireplace in your den. It’s cozy – you’ve decorated for the approaching holidays. Garland and twinkling lights adorn your mantle, and in the corner of the living room is an elaborately decorated tree. The whole place smells like a mixture of the candle burning on your coffee table and whatever you have cooking in the kitchen.

It's not just cozy, he thinks. It’s homey. And he’s about to ask you to leave it all for a dirty, grimy, old smelting plant.

He follows you into the small kitchen, where you stir something in a giant pot on your stove.

“Do I even want to know how you found me?”

He can tell that you’re trying to maintain a level tone, but he doesn’t miss the way that your voice shakes and rises an octave on the last word.

He clears his throat, pulling out a chair for himself at your dining room table.

“His name is Caliban. He’s a mutant who can track other mutants. I asked him to find you.”

You hum in response, continuing to tend to the food in the pot with your back turned to him. Logan knows that telling you he asked Caliban to track you down is just the tip of the iceberg here, but he doesn’t want to throw too much at you at once. So he watches as you grab a variety of seasonings from the cabinet above you, and lets you take your time with questioning him further.

“And why did you ask him to find me?”

“For Charles,” Logan answers. “I didn’t want to disturb you after all this time. I know you’re probably angry and you have every right to be but.. his seizures. They’re getting worse. The medications that I give him aren’t helping like they used to.”

You cover the pot with a lid, and turn the dial on the stove down to low before turning to face him. You lean up against the counter, your arms once again crossed over your chest – a telltale sign that you’re on edge, Logan remembers well.

“You mean the seizures that killed a bunch of our friends and have caused the United States government to classify his brain as a weapon of mass destruction?”

Logan gives you a curt nod. “Yeah. Those seizures. We’ve been living in an abandoned smelting plant just south of the border in Mexico. He mostly stays inside an old water tower. The metal it's made from helps keep the seizures contained to the immediate area around us, but.. they’re getting stronger. Happening more frequently.”

You chew on your lower lip, a passive expression on your face as you take in Logan’s words. You don’t meet his gaze, your stare fixated on something on the other side of the room.

“And what about you?”

“What about me?” Logan counters.

You turn away from him again, reaching into a cabinet to grab two bowls. Logan watches as you ladle some kind of soup or stew into the bowls and pull two spoons from a drawer.

You place one bowl in front of him, and the other at a chair across from him before retrieving a bottle of dark colored wine and two glasses.

“It’s only been a year since I last saw you but you look about ten years older,” you finally answer as you uncork the bottle and fill the two glasses. You push one across the small table. “Sorry. I haven’t had much of a reason to keep any whiskey on hand.”

Logan’s not surprised by the observation – you’re not wrong. He knows the adamantium poisoning his body has taken a toll on his physical appearance. His hair and beard have started to gray, his skin appears more leathered, his under eyes more crinkled.

After barely aging a day in decades, the difference between a year ago and today must look drastic to you.

But that isn’t why he’s here. He can handle some aches and pains, some coughing fits, and all of the other ailments that come with typical aging. He can hide it all from you – he won’t make that your burden to bear in addition to asking you to help with Charles.

“Yeah, well,” Logan starts, staring down at the stew in front of him to avoid your gaze. “That’s what working night shifts and taking care of a ninety-seven year old disabled psychic with Alzheimer’s induced mega seizures does to a person.”

“No one asked you to do that, Logan. I would have helped you if you had given me the chance. I would have followed you any–”

“I know,” Logan cuts you off. “I know you would have. But I had just watched almost everyone that I love die. I couldn’t risk it, letting you get hurt too. Staying away from you for the last year, it’s.. it’s been one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But I did it because I knew it would mean you’re safe.”

You’re silent. Your lips quiver, and Logan loses his appetite at the way your eyes begin to gloss over with unshed tears.

“Did you at least think about reaching out?”

If your watery eyes make Logan lose his appetite, the brokenness in your voice makes him feel sick with himself.

“Every single day.”

He doesn’t tell you that you frequent his dreams, or that he thinks of you every time a Pink Floyd song comes on the radio, or that he hears your voice in the back of his mind telling him to drink more water when all he’s had that day is coffee and bourbon.

He wants to. But he doesn’t.

You give a small nod to his answer, but otherwise say nothing. You pick up your spoon and take a small, unenthusiastic bite of the food in front of you. Logan forces his attention to his own stew, not really wanting to eat but knowing that he needs to – he had only stopped for gas and a bathroom break once during the drive here. He hasn’t eaten anything since he choked down a stale granola bar before leaving Mexico early this morning.

The two of you sit in a loaded silence. Despite how heavy it feels, he can’t help but feel more relaxed in your presence than he has in a long, long time.

Your spoon clinks against the empty bowl when you finish eating. Logan looks up to see you gulping down the last of your wine.

You sigh. A long, exaggerated sigh.

“Why couldn’t you have shown up yesterday, before I put up all of my Christmas decorations?”

••••••

Logan thinks that the interior of his limousine will smell like a Christmas tree threw up in it for the next few months.

Not that he’s complaining. The sickeningly sweet scent of balsam is a small price to pay for you agreeing to come to Mexico.

He knows he probably shouldn’t feel as relieved as he does – he doesn’t even know if your powers will be effective in helping with Charles�� seizures.

But he can't lie to himself. The entire time he spent the better part of the night helping you pack your things into totes to load into your car and his limousine, he was on edge – afraid that you'd change your mind at any moment.

Of course he felt relieved when he watched your car pull out of your driveway after typing the smelting plant’s address into your GPS early this morning.

Approximately eleven hours later, he doesn’t think he’s ever been so glad to be in Mexico. The drive to Colorado, packing for hours into the night and then getting a few hours of shut eye on your couch, and then the drive back to the smelting plant has taken a toll on him.

His hips ache from sitting for so long and he’s experiencing what has to be a pinched nerve in his lower back.

That’s a first for him.

When he arrives back home, he’s relieved to find that he got here before you. Maybe he’ll have enough time to take a long, hot shower and let some max strength ibuprofen go into effect before you can notice the way that he hobbles inside.

“Oh, thank God,” Caliban exhales when he sees the door open and Logan limps inside. “You haven’t answered any of my calls or texts. Did you even think to check if I was alive? He could have had a seiz—”

“Sorry,” Logan grunts, walking past him to retrieve the bottle of painkillers from a cupboard in the kitchen. “I’ve been a bit preoccupied, trying to get back here as soon as possible and what not.”

He tosses back four pills dry and then turns to face him again. “And I knew you weren’t dead. You blew up my phone enough to assure me of that.”

“Well, a reply or two keeping me updated would have been nice. Tracking you only tells me so much.”

Logan rolls his eyes. He doesn’t have the energy for this right now.

“She’s on her way here now. How’s that for an update?” He pushes past Caliban, just wanting to go stand under a painfully hot stream of water.

“You actually managed to get her to agree to come here?”

“I’m as surprised as you are.” Logan grabs a bottle of whiskey from the kitchen counter and starts walking towards his room. “And get the spare room cleaned up for her.”

••••••

“I know it isn’t much, but I’m gonna get you a better mattress tomorrow.”

A few hours later, long after Caliban and Charles have retired to the old water tower for the night, Logan stands in front of where you perch on the edge of the twin sized cot in your bedroom – if it can even be called that right now.

Aside from the sad excuse of a bed, the only other things in the room are a small bedside table with a lamp, and several storage totes containing your belongings that Caliban had brought in from Logan’s limousine.

If he’d had more time to prepare, he would’ve done more, but just forty-eight hours ago he never would have guessed that you would actually be sitting here in front of him.

“It’s okay,” you shrug. “It’ll be better once I have some of my things unpacked.”

“Right,” Logan nods. “Well, I'll leave you to that then. Just.. let me know if you need anything.”

He turns to exit the room, but freezes when he grabs the doorknob. He turns back around, and finds you looking at him expectantly – almost hopeful.

“I appreciate it. You coming here. You don’t owe me anything after the way I just ran off without any explanation. But I'm really glad that you’re here.”

His heart swells when he sees the way that your expression softens. You’re too good, too forgiving and understanding. The fact that you let him into your home, served him dinner, and packed up your entire life into a few boxes and came here after a year of no contact proves it.

He takes a step closer to you, trying his hardest to ignore the sharp burn that radiates from his lower back as he forces his body forward. Despite how hard he tries to hide the discomfort, you seem to notice that something is bothering him – he can tell by the way your brows furrow together and your mouth sets in a harsh line. You scoot back a few inches on the cot mattress, making room for him to take a seat next to you.

“And I just want you to know that I’m sorry,” he continues, cutting you off before you can even ask if he’s okay.

“You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to hear me say it. I’m sorry for the way I handled things. It wasn’t fair to you. I was just scared shitless and wanted to do what I could to keep you safe. Getting as far away from you as possible seemed like the best way to do that at the time.”

Logan internally curses his rambling. Typically a man of few words, he can’t help but feel silly at the sentiment. You’d always had a way of drawing a level of vulnerability from him that no one else ever had. He still feels that effect today.

“I understand why you did what you did, Logan,” you start. You look at him with such understanding that he feels himself physically relax at your words.

“It just… hurt.” You give a small shrug, bringing your hands together to dig your nails into your palms. “I lost my friends too, you know? You and Charles included. I know that you and I, we were never…” you trail off, but he knows what you mean without saying it.

Together. Never truly together.

A million almosts that never amounted to what he truly wanted run through his mind. He’d long ago accepted that you and him would never be more than an unspoken thing but the reminder of it still stings, coming from your lips.

“Anyway,” you shake your head. He wonders if you’re thinking of the same memories that he is – the seemingly small ones.

The ones that he wouldn’t have expected to stick with him, but ended up haunting him. Having a drink in the mansion’s courtyard together after particularly exhausting missions – or even just particularly exhausting days of teaching children. Walking into the kitchen to find you making lunch – and you just so happened to have made enough for him, too. You, on the back of his motorcycle with your arms secured around his stomach, your bodies pressed as close together as they ever had been.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t still hurt over it. But the truth is, I was too relieved to find you standing in my driveway to tell you to leave. And I missed you too much to not come back here with you.”

Your voice is barely a whisper by the time you finish speaking. A singular tear leaks from the corner of your eye, which you hastily wipe away.

“Just don't fucking do that again, okay? I definitely wouldn’t be as forgiving if it happened a second time.”

“I wouldn't forgive myself if it happened a second time,” Logan tells you – and he means it. He still doesn’t know if he can forgive himself as is. But you seem to forgive him, and that's enough for him for the time being. “I promise. M’not going anywhere.”

“Good,” you murmur with a small smile, seemingly content with his reassurance. “So, about Charles… I was thinking, if the seizures are as bad as you've told me, I probably won't be much use if he's actively having one. I was thinking that starting tomorrow, I could try to work with him using my powers little bits throughout the day. Not too much at once so he doesn't get frustrated.”

You're right. There’s nothing that anyone can do once one of Charles’ seizures begins, except for Logan. It’s solely due to his healing factor that Logan is able to muster enough strength to administer one of Charles’ injections during a seizure. Humans – as well as mutants like you and Caliban – are rendered incapacitated.

“I’ll let him know that you’re here in the morning,” Logan nods in agreement. “I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you.”

“I hope so,” you sigh. “I’ve missed him.”

As content as he’d be to sit here and talk to you all night, you’ve both had long days of driving and tomorrow brings a lot of uncertainty, so he knows that he should let you get some rest.

“We should probably try to get some sleep,” he says reluctantly. He starts to push himself off of the cot when the nerve in his lower back catches and causes him to hiss in pain. He tries to play it off, hoping you didn’t notice the way he visibly grimaced at the sudden sharp pain.

“Logan? What's wrong?” You ask, concern etched in your voice. He refuses to meet your gaze, knowing it'll be harder to lie to you if he looks you in the eyes. Instead he forces one foot in front of the other, and takes a slow step forward.

“It’s nothin’. Just stiff from driving so much is all.”

He feels your hand wrap around his wrist as he starts to take another step, stopping him in place. He hangs his head, still refusing to look at you. He doesn't think he can handle the concern and worry that is undoubtedly written on your face.

“If you were anyone else on the planet, I might believe that.” You stand up next to him, and your grip on his wrist only tightens. His face heats up; a side effect of your questioning stare and close proximity.

“But I’ve seen you get impaled with a crow bar before. It healed before I even had time to fret over you. So what’s really going on?”

It hits him how naïve he was to ever believe that he’d be able to easily conceal what’s been happening inside his body from you. The effects of the adamantium poisoning have been becoming more physically apparent for a while now, and you of all people – someone so familiar with not only illness and injury, but also him – were bound to pick up on the fact that something is very different than the last time you saw him.

He finally looks at you, your face every bit as concerned as expected.

“My healing factor has started to slow down,” he says delicately, trying to keep his tone even. The last thing he wants to do is freak you out even more.

“Slow down? How?”

“The shit my bones are made of seems to finally be aging me.” He chooses to forgo using the word poison, but still answers as honestly as he can bring himself to.

“But you don’t need to worry yourself with that, ‘kay? That’s not why you’re here. Some back pain isn’t anything that I can’t handle,” he quickly adds when distress distorts your features.

You purse your lips, leaving him wondering how you’re going to respond.

There’s a sudden sensation radiate from where the skin of your palm and fingers are wrapped around his wrist – it’s a soft vibration, soothing and serene. It starts at his hand and travels up his arm before expanding through his chest, back, and eventually down to the soles of his feet.

For a few moments, he feels like he’s floating. The weight of the adamantium bones disappear for the first time in decades, leaving him feeling feather light. The feeling fades away as gradually as it appeared, and with it subsides the pinching in his lower back.

He realizes that he’s looking at you as if you grew a second head. He doesn’t know why he’s so taken off guard – he’s seen your powers first hand before. He just never imagined there would be a time that he’d actually learn how it feels to be on the receiving end of them.

He glances down at where you finally release your hold on his hand. When you pull away, he sees the remnants of a purple glow emanating from your palm.

“I figured you would have said no if I had asked beforehand. Am I wrong?”

“No,” he admits in a gruff tone. “Guess not.”

“Well? How does your back feel now?” You look at him with raised brows, as if you don’t already know the answer.

“Better. But don’t make a habit out of that. I want you saving your energy for Charles.”

Truthfully, he physically feels the best that he has in months. In addition to his back being free of the sharp pinching sensation, the chronic stiffness that has plagued his body is gone. Even his eyesight seems clearer.

But he thinks back to one of his earliest memories of you – the one that had presented itself in his most recent dream. He remembers the vibrancy of your power gradually dimming as you grew more tired and the way that your forehead glistened with sweat when you were worn out from excessive use of your powers.

You roll your eyes and plop back down on the edge of your cot.

“I’m more than capable of helping you and Charles both. Do you think I’d really let you suffer, knowing you’re in discomfort?”

He knows that trying to fight you on this is as about as useful as arguing with a brick wall.

“I don't doubt your capability,” he tells you gently as he eases towards the door to your room. “But I'm not the priority here. Now get some rest, alright?”

Your response is a brief nod that tells him he hasn’t heard the last of this conversation.

“Goodnight, Logan.”

Just down the hallway, he traces the tips of his fingers over where your hand had been wrapped around his until he falls into the most peaceful and comfortable sleep he’s had in over a year.

••••••

“She’s a healer. She worked at the school as a nurse and teacher. You remember her, yeah? She’s here to see if she can help us out some.”

Logan hands Charles a double dose of pills and watches until he’s swallowed them. They are already running low on the seizure suppressants as is, but he makes him double up anyway. He’d rather be on the safe side, since you are going to be working with Charles this morning.

“Of course I remember her,” Charles retorts after he’s taken the pills. “As if I could ever forget with how often I see her face appear in your mind.”

“Could you do me a favor and not mention that, maybe?” Logan grumbles. He doesn’t doubt that it’s true, but he’d prefer Charles to not mention it within the first five minutes of seeing you.

The door to the old water tower creaks open, allowing midday sun to infiltrate the dim space as you come inside. Caliban enters behind you.

“Hi, Charles,” you greet him cheerfully “It's so nice to see you.”

Your voice doesn’t give it away, but Logan notices the nervousness in your gait – in the way that your posture is rigid and your footsteps are shorter and quicker than normal as you walk over to them.

Charles gives you a smile – the first genuine smile that Logan has seen from him in as long as he can remember.

“Hello, my dear,” he beams at you. “We’ve missed you.”

You return his smile with a bashful one of your own, and wring your hands together in front of you.

“I’ve missed you guys, too,” you say, your eyes flickering between him and Logan. “I’m glad to be here. I’m going to be using my powers to try to get your seizures under control. Is that okay with you?”

“Anything sounds better than these two cramming pills down my throat like clockwork,” he grunts with a glare at Logan and Caliban.

“It’s not exactly fun for us either, you know,” Caliban scoffs.

“Enough, you two,” Logan interjects when Charles opens his mouth to respond. “We—” he motions to himself and Caliban, “are going to give them some privacy.”

He'd be lying if he said the thought of leaving you alone with Charles during what will undoubtedly be a vulnerable time didn’t make him nervous. But he doesn’t want to overcrowd and overwhelm him, either.

Though a large majority of Charles’ seizures are random, many have been brought on by a state of a emotional distress, too.

He knows that he doesn’t exactly possess a natural aura of peace like you do.

A hint of anxiety flashes across your features before you quickly compose yourself. Logan starts to follow Caliban’s lead to the door, but stops when he's directly in front of you.

He reaches out and almost puts a hand on your waist before he thinks twice of it. His fingers linger awkwardly at your hip for a moment before he drops the hand back down to his side.

“I'll be close by, okay? If you need anything,” he says to you lowly. He glances over his shoulder to see Charles now tending to his bonsai tree, not paying attention to anyone around him.

“I know,” you assure him with a smile and nod of your head. “Don’t worry. I won’t push him. If he starts to get agitated, frustrated, bored… I’ll stop immediately.”

Logan gives you one final, short nod before reluctantly following Caliban outside and back into the smelting plant.

“You sure do seem to be getting around well for someone who could barely walk yesterday,” Caliban says in a faux casual voice as he tugs the balaclava style mask off of his head as soon as he is out of the sunlight.

Logan sighs and curses under his breath, already knowing the direction that this conversation is headed.

“Now that I'm thinking about it, I also didn't hear you having any nightmares all the way from the water tower last night. Must have had a good night’s sleep.”

“What's your point?” Logan snaps. He yanks the fridge open, scanning the scarce shelves for something to eat.

He really needs to go to the grocery store once you've finished up with Charles. And buy you an actual bed. And stock back up on Charles’ medications –

“No point,” Caliban continues, “Just glad to see that you changed your mind about telling her about your condition is all. Even if you did threaten me within an inch of my life to not tell her right before you left for Colorado.”

“What can I say,” Logan grunts. “She isn't blind. She clocked it within an hour of being here.”

Logan spends the next hour alternating between pacing the floor of the smelting plant and smoking cigars outside of the water tower. He reminds himself repeatedly that everything must be going okay, because if it wasn't, he would know by now.

He also reminds himself of the intense feeling of tranquility that came over him when he felt the effects of your powers. He can’t imagine anyone not finding it euphoric – even Charles, in all of his stubbornness.

He's finishing up a cigar when you exit the water tower after what feels like an eternity. He immediately stubs it out, remembering how you used to tease him about getting cancer if he didn’t stop smoking.

It wouldn’t surprise him if that was an actual possibility for him these days.

“How’d it go?” he greets you. He tries to keep his voice neutral – doesn’t want to make it obvious how anxious he’s been for the last hour. “Did he do okay?”

“I guess we won’t really know until he either has a seizure or… doesn’t,” you sigh. “He did surprisingly well. But the damage that the Alzheimer’s has done to his brain is widespread. I doubt there’s much reversing it. My goals are to reduce the severity and frequency of the seizures and to stop the damage from progressing any further.”

The two of you walk side by side back to the smelting plant, where Logan opens the door for you.

“So that means that I might be staying here for quite some time.”

You ease past him through the small doorframe, your chest grazing against him ever so slightly. The familiar light scent of vanilla and honey lingers after you’re walking away.

Were you just smirking at him or is he hallucinating?

Scratch that, were you just flirting with him?

“I think I can find a way to be okay with that.”

He didn’t expect you to go back to Colorado anytime too soon, given how much you packed – and the fact that your fucking Christmas tree sits in the common area – but he can't ignore that hearing you imply that you have no intention of leaving in the immediate future brings him more comfort than it probably should.

With your back turned to him as you open the refrigerator, he’s unable to see your expression, but he hears you hum in response – a sound somewhere between amusement and contentment.

“But if I'm going to be staying here for any amount of time, the food situation is going to have to improve. How do you live like this?”

He sighs, remembering the current state of the fridge and cabinets. He ended up settling on an overripe banana for breakfast. He normally reserves grocery shopping for his off days – Mondays or Tuesdays – but those days had been occupied with traveling to and from Colorado this week.

“I’ve got some errands to run today,” he starts, feeling an inkling of nervousness settle in the pit of his stomach. “Get some groceries and refills on Charles’ medications… if you wanted to come with me.”

He tells himself that he invites you because it just makes sense – of course you need to familiarize yourself with the area that you're going to be living in, even if it's just temporary. It's important to know where the closest grocery store, and gas station, and pharmacy is.

And it also just makes sense that he would be the one who to show you around. Charles can't even go to the bathroom by himself and Caliban is allergic to the sun.

That's what he tells himself, anyway.

“I could be persuaded to go with you,” you drawl. “If…” You trail off, leaving Logan to look at you with a cocked brow.

“If you let me ride in the backseat of your limousine?”

••••••

“Well? Was it everything you thought it would be?”

Logan sits directly across from you in a small booth at a mom-and-pop diner. It’s nearly noon and you had yet to eat today, so Logan made the last minute decision to pull into the restaurant’s parking lot after acquiring Charles’ medications.

“What?” you question as you swallow a mouthful of chocolate chip pancakes. It may not be breakfast time anymore, but he knew you would appreciate the fact that this place serves all day breakfast.

“Being chauffeured around in a limousine.”

“For some reason the limo smelled like a Christmas tree farm exploded in it,” you say nonchalantly. “But the driver insisted on taking me out for all you can eat pancakes so I’m still going to leave him a good review.”

“I’m sure he had a perfectly good reason for his limo smelling like that,” he retorts in mock defense. “But he probably should try to take care of that before he goes back to work tonight,” he adds, making a mental note to pick up some air freshener at the store.

A cheeky grin spreads across your face. You look like you’re about give him some kind of smart remark when the waitress walks over to the booth with a steaming pot of coffee.

“Good to see you in here with someone for a change,” the older woman, who Logan knows is named Lucille without having to look at her name tag, remarks as she tops off both of your mugs. “Did you finally take my advice?” She asks Logan.

“Every time he comes in here I tell him that he needs to get on one of those dating apps,” she says to you before he can answer.

You immediately cover your mouth to keep from spewing your coffee across the table.

Logan’s face heats up by ten degrees. He should have known better than to trust Lucille to be able to read the room.

“No,” he snaps. “I have not downloaded Tinder. Or Bumble, or Hinge. Maybe you should give them a try and stop worrying about my love life.”

He shoos her away, but she just cackles and slaps him on the shoulder.

“Honey, I’ve been married for forty-five years.”

“Oh yeah? Where’s your ring?” He asks, nodding towards her naked ring finger.

“We’re not allowed to wear jewelry on the clock, Nosey Nelly,” she jabs back. You sit silently, watching the interaction with pursed lips to keep from laughing.

“Nosey Nelly,” Logan grumbles under his breath as he fishes his wallet out of his pants pocket. He pulls out his debit card and slaps it into her palm.

You finally release a snort of laughter when Lucille waddles away.

“I take it that’s your best friend?”

“Believe it or not, she’s an improvement from Caliban.”

The two of you finish your meal with easy flowing conversation. You tell him what led you to Colorado, and about how you worked part time at a veterinarian’s office and part time at a bookstore. He tells you about some of the drunk, unhinged customers that he's had in his limousine lately.

It’s easy for him to forget that less than forty-eight hours ago, he hadn’t seen you in over a year.

Before your lives were irrevocably altered, you had been one of the closest friends he had ever had. One of the most important people in his life. Sitting across from you now, it’s too easy for him to remember why that was.

••••••

Logan’s reluctant to go to work tonight.

And it’s not just because he fucking hates his job and isn’t in the mood to tolerate the bachelor party currently occupying his backseat.

To an extent, he’s always nervous to go to work. He works night shifts because Charles sleeps at night, and is therefore less likely to be triggered into a seizure during the nighttime hours. It’s the safest time for Logan to be away.

It hasn’t happened before, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t. And with you now at the smelting plant, he worries about it happening while he’s away even more than he typically would.

He arrives at the strip club that the groom had requested he drive to and parks. They all drunkenly stagger out of the back of the vehicle, leaving Logan to relish in the silence after the door slams shut.

He pulls his phone from his coat pocket and sees that he has no messages.

He’d told you to text him if you needed anything, so it’s a good thing that you haven’t, right?

It’s just before midnight, so you're most likely asleep. The lack of a text is probably not anything as drastic as the conclusions that his brain is jumping to.

Still, he can't stop his fingers as he types out a message and hits send.

How’s the new bed?

After your brunch date – Lucille's words, not his – the two of you bought enough groceries to feed four people for a week and then went to the only furniture store in town to find you an upgrade from the fold out cot that they'd happened to have on hand when you arrived.

His phone dings just a minute later. He releases the breath he’d been holding before even reading your response.

It’s a major improvement. You were right - not too soft, not too firm. Though it feels a whole lot bigger than it did in the store.

He reads over the text at least five times and thinks back to your time in the mattress store earlier that day.

The first couple mattresses you tested out were too soft, the next few too firm. Logan didn’t mind that you were being indecisive – really. He was secretly relieved to have an excuse to spend more time with you, away from Caliban and Charles.

He laid down on a mattress that you hadn’t checked out yet and instantly thought that it was significantly better than his personal mattress at the smelting plant.

“What about this one?” He asks, patting the empty space next to him on the queen sized bed. You walk over to the opposite side of the bed and crawl in beside him. With your arms down at your sides, one rests against his. The mattress is more than big enough for you, but with him next to you, it’s a cozy fit.

He types: Is that a good thing or a bad thing? and presses send before he can overthink it. His screen shows that you read the message right away, and he can’t help but imagine the smirk on your face as you lay tucked beneath the covers.

The words ‘What do you think?’ appear on his screen.

He thinks he feels like a fucking teenager with the way that a few harmless, borderline flirtatious text messages from you has him imagining what it would be like to really share the bed with you.

His jeans begin to feel uncomfortably tight. He clicks the phone off and tosses it in the empty passenger seat beside him, before he says something that crosses a line that he can’t uncross.

••••••

The relief that your powers had provided Logan had been blissful but short-lived.

By the time he gets home from work at around four in the morning, his back pain has returned with a vengeance.

Everyone is asleep when he gets in, of course. He hobbles to his room as quietly as he can. Caliban and Charles are in the water tower, but he doesn’t want to wake you up. He hopes that by the time that you’re both awake later today, the pain will have subsided in his sleep.

Two hours after he lies down, he realizes that sleeping it off is an impossibility with the amount of discomfort he’s in. He’s done nothing but toss and turn in a futile attempt to find a comfortable sleeping position, the extra strength ibuprofen and his heating pad only doing so much to ease the stabbing sensation at the base of his spine.

He knows the answer to his problem is just down the hallway.

But it's early – the sun is just now starting to rise and he has yet to hear you stir from your room. He can't bring himself to wake you up over some back pain, knowing that you'll need to use your powers to help Charles soon.

He sits up with a deep groan, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. If he already can't sleep, he may as well make something to eat and settle the rumbling in his stomach.

Taking slow, short strides, he walks back down the hallway to the kitchen as quietly as he can manage.

He comes to a halt when he sees your door open, your head popping out from around the frame.

“Can’t sleep?” You ask, your voice huskier than normal with sleep.

“How’d you guess?”

You step into the hallway, still in a pair of plaid sleep pants and an oversized crewneck.

“Your bed creaks every time you move.” You cross your arms over your chest, standing less than half a foot away from him. There’s evident concern on your face when you take in his stiff posture. “This place has thin walls.”

“Sorry to keep you awake.” He looks down at the ground, embarrassed. “I’ll stay in the living roo—”

“Don’t be silly,” you stop him. You grab his hand in yours and begin to pull him back in the direction of his bedroom.

He thinks about protesting – part of him wants to tell you that you shouldn’t bother. He thinks he should tell you that he appreciates it, but he’s a lost cause, and the relief will only be temporary.

But your hand is too warm and your skin is too soft and in the end, he isn’t strong enough to deny himself the feeling of your touch, so he let’s you lead the way to his bed.

You drop his hand to position yourself on one side of the bed. You don’t get underneath the comforter, but you do pull it back on his side so that he can crawl beneath it.

His isn’t quite as big as your new bed – it’s only a full size mattress, so it’s even more cramped than when the two of you laid on the mattress in the store yesterday, but he isn’t complaining.

It's unchartered territory for you two, this type of intimacy. He doesn’t remember the last time he shared a bed with anyone, but if there’s one person on the planet that he trusts enough to allow next to him in such a vulnerable state, it’s you.

“Lay however is most comfortable for you,” you instruct him gently.

He maneuvers onto his side, facing you. You copy his position, your faces inches away from each other’s on a shared pillow.

“Now close your eyes,” you whisper.

He does as you ask, and then feels your palm rest against the thick stubble of his jaw. Your thumb grazes across the skin of his cheekbone. He melts into your touch before you’ve even started using your powers.

“Is this okay?” you murmur.

“Mm-hmm,” he sighs against your hand. “Could just lay like this for a while and I’d probably fall asleep. Don’t even need to use your powers.”

You snort and run the tips of your fingers through his beard.

“How about I do both? That okay?”

He nods, too tired to think about stopping you.

He falls asleep to the soft hum of your powers within minutes, and dreams of the color purple.

••••••

Over the next few weeks, everyone falls into a comfortable routine.

You continue to work with Charles for an hour in the mornings and then again in the evenings. Your powers help him more than Logan ever could have hoped for. Not only is this the longest he’s gone without having a seizure in months, but he’s also increasingly lucid and alert, and more like his old, spunky self than ever.

Most weeknights you cook dinner for everyone, and Tuesdays become the day that you join Logan in going to town for a weekly grocery restock and brunch at the same diner that he first took you to a few weeks ago.

He tries not to make it too obvious, but it quickly becomes one of the best parts of his week – even with Lucille’s relentless teasing about how there’s “no way you’re just friends” and Logan would be “the biggest idiot on the planet to not lock you down”.

Neither of you ever put much energy into disagreeing with her.

The other best parts of his week occur early in the mornings, before daylight breaks and Charles and Caliban are still sound asleep. He gets home from work and you move from your bed and into his, relieving him of any physical discomfort he could be experiencing from hours of driving around and lulling him to sleep.

The first few nights, he’d wake hours later to find that you had escaped back to your own room after he’d fallen asleep. Then, one morning, when he woke up, he opened his eyes to find your face resting against his shoulder.

You stopped bothering to go back to your own room after that.

This evening – Christmas eve – Logan sits on his bed and stares at the gift that he’d gotten you while you finish preparing the dinner that you’d been working on for the last few hours.

He feels silly. There hadn’t been any discussion on getting each other gifts and he worries that it’ll make you feel weird.

It’s an espresso machine – nothing too fancy, but it’ll get the job done. You had recently mentioned how much you miss the espresso machine that you had in Colorado. The house you had been renting came furnished, which included an espresso machine that you were unable to bring with you to Mexico.

He stopped by a Target before work a couple nights ago and picked it out. To top off how silly he feels, he’d completely forgotten to buy wrapping paper or even a gift bag, so he’ll just be handing it to you as is.

“Dinner is almost ready!” He hears your voice call from the kitchen.

The smell of honey glazed ham and fresh rolls wafts down the hallway. He places the box containing the espresso machine on the floor beside his bed, planning to give it to you after Charles and Caliban go to bed in a few hours.

When he rejoins everyone in the common area, Charles is watching Home Alone and Caliban is gathering plates and silverware for everyone while you remove a large dish of baked mac and cheese from the oven.

“Smells great,” Logan compliments as he grabs a beer out of the fridge. “Anything I can help with?” he asks, as if you hadn’t all but shooed him out of the kitchen just an hour ago.

You place the casserole dish on a trivet before grabbing one of the plates that Caliban had set out.

“Yes, actually,” you say, surprising him. You hand him the plate with a small smirk. “You can make Charles a plate.”

“Oh, can I?” He takes a step closer to you, taking the plate and grinning down at you. “Are you sure you trust me to do that?”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that you’ve been alive two hundred years and haven’t taken the time to learn to cook.”

“Well, I guess I'll just have to have you teach me-"

“Would you two stop flirting and get me some ham?” Charles voice booms over the television and silences you both.

Logan notices you purse your lips to keep from smiling as you turn your attention back to the spread of food across the dining room table.

Soon, you’re all four sat around the dining room table with plates piled high with traditional holiday dishes. Logan is halfway through clearing his plate when Charles clears his throat to speak.

“This is wonderful,” he directs at you. “Thank you very much. You know, this all feels very familiar to me…” he trails off, glancing between you and Logan from across the table. The smile on his face fades, and in it’s place appears an expression of confusion.

From the corner of his eye, Logan sees your grip on your fork tighten.

“Thank you, Charles,” you tell him. You try to sound cheerful, but Logan doesn’t miss the nervous edge to your voice. He knows that you’re noticing the same thing as him. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

“Yes, these candied sweet potatoes are delicious,” Caliban interjects in an obvious attempt to maintain easy conversation. “You'll have to give me your rec—”

“This feels so familiar,” Charles repeats and all three of you go silent.

In his gut, Logan fears that he knows what is coming. It always starts this way. One minute, everything will be perfect. The next, something triggers a memory, or a feeling, and Charles is hit with the weight of the past – with the weight of the trauma that his brain normally blocks out.

“This feels like… how Christmas used to feel. When we’d have dinner at the.. at the mansion. With all of our friends before I.. before I killed them—”

“Charles,” Logan says firmly, but Charles continues to stare into space. “It wasn't your fault. Okay? Let's enjoy this nice dinner. Do you want some more green beans—”

But he’s unable to finish his sentence before it begins. The exact thing he’s been the most terrified of since you arrived here weeks ago.

Across from him, Caliban's face is frozen in agony. Beside him, your mouth is open as if to scream, but no sound comes out. Every one around him is still, and his body suddenly feels a few hundred pounds heavier.

It's been weeks since Charles’ last seizure, but Logan knew it was too good to be true – knew that it was bound to happen again eventually. He'd planned for this, knowing the effects of the psionic energy would hurt you as they do Caliban.

Logan forces himself into a standing position by pushing off of the dining room table, and then takes as big of steps as he possibly can to get to the opposite side, where Caliban and Charles sit.

He ignores the blinding nerve pain all over his body, he ignores the intense ringing in his ears, he ignores the way it feels as if all of the air has been ripped from his lungs and reaches down to grab the bag of medication from the compartment beneath Charles’ wheelchair – where he's made sure to keep it, in case of this exact scenario.

Despite his shaking hands, he manages to retrieve an injection and uncap it. He jabs the tip of the needle into the flesh of Charles’ shoulder with as much force as he can muster, then collapses to the floor beside him.

Charles releases a grief stricken groan, realizing what had happened. Logan hears both you and Caliban gasping for air.

“I'm sorry,” Charles cries. “I'm so sorry..”

Logan pulls himself off of the ground using the edge of the table and instantly turns his attention to you. Your eyes are wide and your hands are visibly shaking in your lap, but you exhale the breath you'd been holding when your eyes meet Logan's.

You push your chair back, standing and closing the distance between the two of you. Your hands grip the tops of Logan's biceps. He instinctively rests his on the sides of your stomach.

“Are you okay?” You ask, your voice wobbly and several octaves higher than normal.

“I'm fine,” he assures you delicately. “Are you okay?”

You nod, hesitantly at first and then more confidently as you take him in and seem to realize that he really is alright.

“I'm fine too,” Caliban grunts from across the table. “Don’t worry yourselves with me.”

Logan and you both quickly retract your hands, breaking the embrace. You turn your attention to Charles, who seems to be in another world.

“Charles? Are you alright?” You ask him softly.

“Hm?” He hums as he glances up at you. “Oh, yes. I’m alright. I think.. I think I’d like to go to bed now,” he murmurs. Logan, you, and Caliban all exchange glances before Logan tosses the bag of medication to Caliban.

“Give him a double dose of the suppressants and some sleep medicine,” Logan instructs him. Caliban nods wordlessly and wheels Charles away from the dining room table, towards the smelting plant’s door.

Once they’ve left the building, Logan turns to you. You look visibly shaken, and he can’t blame you. He remembers all too well how frightening the effects of the seizure was the first time he experienced it. Even with this one being relatively short lived, he knows it had to have been more painful and scary for you than it was for him.

“I’ll clean all of this up, okay?” He says, gesturing towards the half eaten dinners and the pile of dirty dishes in the sink. “You go relax. Take a shower, lay down for a while—”

“Really, Logan. I'm okay, I prom—”

“Will you do that for me?”

To his surprise, you don't object any further. You give him a small nod, and a comforting squeeze to his hand as you walk past him.

He doesn't release the sigh of both relief and frustration that he’d been holding in until he hears the shower turn on a few moments later.

••••••

As soon as Logan finishes tidying up from dinner, he cuts two small slices of an apple pie you had baked and puts them on a plate for the two of you to share.

Your door is slightly cracked, the soft orange light from your table lamp spilling into the hallway. He knocks quietly and waits for you to tell him to come in.

You’re in your pajamas, tucked under a blanket with a book partially obscuring your face. You do little to acknowledge his presence, so he takes a seat on the edge of your bed and places the plate of pie beside him.

The room looks significantly different than it did just a few weeks ago. In addition to the new bed, you'd also acquired a vintage dresser and an area rug that you’d found for cheap at a thrift store. You have books in piles throughout the room, one of the things that you were most adamant about bringing with you from Colorado.

“Charles is alright,” he tells you gently. “He must have just been really tired. He didn’t nap much today. Caliban said he fell asleep really quickly after taking his medicine.”

“Except that wasn’t why he had a seizure,” you sigh, closing your book. Logan now has a better view of your face, and the first thing he notices is that your eyes look red-rimmed and watery. You sit up straight, and he inches closer to you on the bed.

“Hey, what’s going—”

“It was definitely my fault that he had a seizure,” you sniffle, looking at him with defeat.

“What? No,” Logan shakes his head. You have a blanket draped across your lap, but Logan places his hand on your knee over top of it. “What makes you say that?”

“I always work with Charles for an hour in the mornings and an hour in the afternoons,” you start, frustration evident in your voice. “But this afternoon, I cut our session short because he wasn’t really in the best mood and I wanted to get started on prep for dinner.”

You wipe underneath your eye with the sleeve of your shirt and look away from Logan’s gaze.

“Sweetheart, you can’t blame yourself for this,” he assures you as he rubs slow circles on your knee with his thumb. “He was having seizures almost every single day before you got here. You’re not the reason he had a seizure today. But you are the reason he’s been able to go weeks without having one.”

“Okay?” He prompts when you don’t respond. You finally look him in the eye again, and offer a small nod of agreement.

He hands you the plate of apple pie, earning a small smile from you.

“Wait here. I’ve got something for you,” he tells you as he stands up and begins walking towards your door.

“Something for me?” you question, but he’s already halfway down the hallway.

He grabs the espresso machine from beside his bed and heads back to your room. He still feels nervous to give it to you, but right now he’s just hoping that it will help cheer you up.

When he re-enters your room, you’re forking a bite of pie into your mouth and freeze when you see what he’s carrying. He sits back down on the edge of the bed, still holding the box. You sit the plate of pie on your bedside table and scoot closer to him.

“Logan, you didn’t have to,” you murmur. He hands you the box and you hug it to your chest, but only look at him. He thinks your eyes are starting to look watery again. “I feel so bad. I didn’t get you anything—”

He waves his hand in dismissal, not surprised at all by your reaction.

“I know I didn’t have to. Just wanted to. Is that okay?”

You inspect the espresso machine with a bashful grin. “Thank you. I love it,” you assure him with a gentle squeeze to his hand. “I just wish I had gotten you something, too.”

“That’s not necessary,” he says, staring down at where your hand holds his. “You give me everything I need just by being here.”

You go still at his words with a look he can’t quite read on your face. You pull your hand away from his before placing the espresso box on the floor next to your bed. The hand that previously held his comes to cradle his face, your thumb grazing along his cheekbone. He turns his head ever so slightly to the side so that his lips graze against your palm. He kisses the skin once, then twice, and your eyes flutter closed.

His heightened senses don’t miss the way your heart rate picks up, or the way that you hold your breath as his lips linger on your skin.

“What are you thinking about?” He murmurs into the side of your hand. You open your eyes, your pupils dilated.

“Same thing I’ve been thinking about for years now,” you whisper as you lean forward, pulling his face to you.

You capture his lips in yours, opening up for him without hesitation. He slips his tongue into your mouth, the sensation simultaneously feeling brand new and like you’ve done this dance a hundred times before.

He scoots further back onto the mattress, away from the edge. He pulls you with him, guiding you onto his lap. You straddle him, his hands resting on your lower back. You fist your hands around the fabric of his flannel, pulling him flush against you.

It's years of pent up desire and longing that you pour into each other. You drag your teeth along the swell of his bottom lip and he groans into your mouth, resisting the urge to buck his hips up against your center.

He knew you looked sweet, smelled sweet – but never would he have guessed that you’d taste even sweeter. Even if it weren’t for the faint hint of cinnamon and apples from the pie you’d nibbled on, he’d think you were the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.

You grind down against the uncomfortable bulge contained by his jeans and whimper – the prettiest sound he’s ever fucking heard and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You pull back, your chest heaving from lack of air.

“Why didn’t we do that years ago?” you ask breathlessly. He reaches up to your face, tucking some stray hairs behind your ear.

“Because I’m a fucking idiot,” he answers quickly. His eyes lock on your kiss swollen lips and he thinks you’ve never looked prettier than you do right now – staring down at him with puffy lips wet with his kiss. “But now that I’ve kissed you, I’m not gonna stop. Gonna kiss you for as long as you’ll let me.”

And to prove his point, he starts trailing wet, open mouth kisses along your jaw and down your throat. You throw your head back, giving him unhindered access to the skin of your neck. He alternates between kissing and nipping the tender flesh, leaving a damp trail across your skin.

You grab at the hem of your shirt and Logan pulls away to allow you to tug it over your head. You’re left naked from the waist up and Logan is left feeling like his cock is going to break through the zipper of his jeans.

With your tits directly in front of his face, he latches his mouth to one nipple and palms the other in his hand. You rock yourself against his erection, chasing the relief that the friction provides you.

“Logan,” you pant from above him. “Please—”

He pulls his mouth away from you with a wet pop, leaving your nipple glistening and taut.

“Tell me what you want, honey.”

You let out a low whimper at the pet name and drag your fingers through his hair. He toys with the waistband of your pajamas pants, popping the elastic band lightly against your skin.

“Your mouth,” you say, the words somewhere between a whine and a plea. “I wanna feel your mouth on me.”

He groans at the bluntness of your words. Hearing you say that you want his mouth on you has his cock throbbing in his pants.

“Yeah?” He taunts as he maneuvers you off of his lap. He quickly tugs his own shirt over his head and tosses it somewhere behind him. Your eyes trail down the expanse of his chest, your mouth slightly agape.

He tilts your head so that you’re looking at his face again and tugs at your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

In that moment, he hopes you never stop looking at him like that.

“You gonna sit on my face?”

You nod, eagerly. You push your pajama pants down past your ass and thighs, and Logan helps pull them the rest of the way over your calves and ankles. You lean forward, reaching for the waistline of his jeans and fumbling with the button until it pops open.

He sees you completely naked before him and his brain goes momentarily blank. He can’t believe he actually gets to see you like this – bare for him and more perfect than he ever could have envisioned.

And believe him, he had tried. Nothing could have prepared him for how it actually feels to see you, touch you, taste you after years of yearning for you.

“Lay down for me?” You ask with a small laugh, snapping him out of his trance. He does as you ask, placing his head on one of your pillows.

You straddle his chest, your back to his face. He helps you inch backwards until your pussy hovers directly over his mouth. He pauses for a moment, spreading your thighs apart with his hands to give him a clear view of your already dripping cunt before yanking you the rest of the way down to his mouth.

You moan as soon as his tongue slides through your wet folds, bracing your hands on the defined planes of his chest. The sweet and salty tang of you fills his mouth and he has to resist moaning goddamn, I love you into your cunt.

He could get drunk off of the flavor of you.

You grind yourself against his face, your juices coating his beard and your inner thighs. He’s so focused on working you with his lips and tongue that he doesn’t even notice you pushing his jeans and boxers down until he feels his cock spring back and slap his lower belly.

“Fuck,” you moan at the sight of him. You pump him in your hand, smearing the pre-cum from his slit down his shaft. “You're so big. I don’t know how you’ll fit inside me.”

He hears you spit, then feels it drip across his tip. You smear the warm wetness down his length and press a kiss to the side of his cock before taking him in your mouth. The head nudges against the back of his throat before you pull back, then ease back in, slow and deep.

He’s always loved your lips, but right now he’s doesn’t think he could ever love them more. He wants to watch as you hollow your cheeks and bob your head along his length, but that’s going to have to wait for another time.

Right now, he’s right where he wants to be. He has your swollen clit locked between his lips, sucking on it to the point that your legs quiver around his head. You lean forward, pressing your chest against his stomach as you run your tongue down the entirety of his cock and stroke him in your hand.

“I’ve waited so long to taste you,” he grunts from beneath you. The vibrations of his voice making your pussy clench around the finger that he teases your hole. “This cunt’s so fuckin’ sweet.”

He eases his index finger past your entrance, your walls constricting around the digit. “And so fuckin’ tight,” he adds, pumping in and out of you as you begin to move forwards, then backwards, up, and then down – grinding against his finger.

“Logan, I'm gonna cum,” you cry and it makes his balls tighten. He feels it – the way you gush around his finger and the way your legs clench around his head.

You ride out your orgasm above him, and then collapses against his chest. Your skin is sticky with sweat against his, despite the fact that the current cold front has the smelting plant colder than normal tonight.

You roll off of him, falling onto the mattress next to him. Your slick glistens on your thighs in the soft glow of your lamplight. It's one of the most beautiful things he's ever seen, he thinks. You fucked out and delirious from your climax.

But he thinks he might fucking die if he has to spend one more second of his abnormally long life not knowing how it feels to be buried inside you.

He helps pull you into a sitting position, and then lays you down in his place. Your tits heave as you try to regain control of your breathing. He's on his knees, fisting himself in his hand as he nudges your knees open. Your eyes are locked on his cock, a look of half excitement and half terror.

“You can take it, honey. I know you can,” he coos.

He slaps the tip against your clit, then glides it up and down your wet length. Not entering you quite yet, but coating himself in your slick. He looks down at himself next to your pretty, wet cunt and imagines how it’ll be to see it sliding in and out of you.

“Just been a while, that’s all,” you say, pulling him down to the by the back of the neck. He lines himself up at your entrance, nudging just the tip in. Even that’s a stretch for you, he can tell by the way your mouth forms an O shape.

He goes still for a moment – for your sake, but for his own, as well. He has to adjust to the warm tightness of your pussy before he trusts himself to go any deeper.

“I know, baby. Been a while for me too. Been waiting for you for a long time.”

He slates his lips over yours, kissing you messy and deep as he slowly sheaths himself inside you. He stills again once he’s buried to the hilt, and breaks the kiss to look down at you.

“You okay?” He murmurs. He props himself up on one forearm by your head, and brings his free hand to roll one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

You give him another eager nod, and wrap your legs securely around his hips, hooking your ankles together just below his ass.

“Mm-hmm,” you sigh. “Need you to move now, Logan.”

With his cock throbbing inside you, he doesn’t make you tell him twice. His length drags along the soft, spongy interior of your walls as he pulls out and eases back in. He gives you a few languid, slow strokes to accommodate the newfound stretch before it's hard for him to hold back.

He gets lost in it all – in the wet, tight heat of your cunt, in the sounds that your bodies make as he repeatedly snaps into you, in every expression on your face and every noise that slips past your lips.

You snake your arms around his abdomen, your hands coming to rest on his lower back.

“H-how’s your back?” You stammer out as he continues to piston his hips forward.

“I've never been better,” Logan grunts, resting his sweat slicked forehead against yours.

It's the truth. He’s never felt better than he does right now, between your legs – even if he is feeling this in his back. He'll deal with any and all repercussions later, once he's felt you cum around his cock while you cry his name.

You smile up at him as if to say wanna bet?

You flatten your hands across his skin at the base of his spine, and he doesn’t have to be able to see it to know what you're doing. He's experienced the effects of your powers enough by now to recognize them instantly – the low vibration they emit and the immediate warmth that spreads throughout his body.

“Gonna make me cum, honey,” he warns you. “Feels too good.” He feels your walls constrict around him when he calls you honey.

“Kiss me and I’ll cum with you,” you tell him in a breathy voice that he could listen to talk in all fucking night.

He kisses you again, this time more hurried than anytime before as he chases both of your releases. He spills into you with a deep groan as your cunt spasms around him. You moan his name into his mouth until he stills inside you, the last ropes of his cum filling you up.

He isn’t sure how long the two of you stay like that – with him still tucked inside you, laying pressed against you with his face nuzzling the crook of your neck. You trail your fingers up and down his spine, the sensation the only thing grounding him to reality in his post orgasm haze.

Finally, he pulls back enough to look down at you.

“Stay here,” he says earnestly. “Stay with me. Don't go back to Colorado. One day, we’ll go anywhere you want to. Just the two of us. But right now, please stay—”

“Logan,” you shush him gently. “I wasn’t planning on going back to Colorado. Or anywhere without you.”

He exhales, and kisses you on the forehead before finally pulling out of you and plopping down beside you. He tucks you between his chest and his arm, your head resting just above his heart.

“You know, this new bed of yours is a whole lot comfier than mine,” he comments casually.

“Hmm,” you hum and tilt your head to look up at him. “You should probably sleep here tonight. For your back, of course.”

He laughs, sleep threatening to overtake him at any second. He presses a lazy kiss to your forehead.

“I'm not going anywhere without you, honey.”

••••••

some of my other logan works

diet pepsi - old man logan x reader limousine sex

by the end of the night - worst variant logan has nightmares and mutant reader with emotional regulation abilities helps him sleep better

claw kink drabble

thank you so much for reading 🫶🏻

[norrisainz33]

friend of a friend || MV33

☆ summary: max meets his dream girl through his friends good friend, pato o’ward

☆ pairing: max verstappen x mexican!reader

☆ fc & warnings: gala montes & poorly translated spanish and slightly suggestive! you are responsible for the content you consume

☆ requested: yes!! thank you for requesting and apologies for the delay 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

maxverstappen1 has made a post

liked by ynuser, redbullracing, schecoperez, charlesleclerc and 547,936 others

maxverstappen1: enjoying some much needed sun and relaxation before we head to vegas 😴

view all 999 comments

user1: max i’ll meow if you need another cat

user2: i’m sorry who in the heck is in the last slide

user4: is he soft launching rn??? at a time like this???

user6: so this is why he still looks happy despite rbr woes

user7: is that his girlfriend?!

user8: max please give us the tea

user9: f1gossip im begging you to figure out who this is

redbullracing: happy you’re getting some r&r max 🤍

ynuser: mi novio es tan bonito [my boyfriend is so pretty]

[liked by maxverstappen1]

user9: now hold up ….. who is this and why did max like

f1gossip: taking note of this interaction

user12: ugh she’s private so we can’t even snoop but she’s followed by pato and elba oward, carlos, rebecca, rbr and checo

user13: this is pato and elba’s childhood friend!!! she’s good friends with them

user12: everyone say thank you user13

user3: the shirtless photos?? the soft launch??? how am i supposed to be normal

charlesleclerc: 👀

user4: i’m gonna miss ur fine ass when i scroll

user5: sometimes you just gotta say damn and move on

ynuser has added to their story 🔒

[staying here forever]

view all story replies

yourbff: in monaco???? no gracias. you can’t leave me like that 😭

ynuser: yes monaco!! it is so beautiful 🥹

yourbff: you’re not just saying that because of a certain man?

ynuser: oh no i am saying that bc of a certain man 😮‍💨 he is a dream come true bestie

yourbff: ugh do elba and pato have any other hot millionaire friends they could set me up with???

ynuser: i’ll ask them im sure they do

yourbff: preferably one who’s name rhymes with pranko dolapinto

ynuser: HAHAHA mi amiga

carlossainz55: te gusta monaco? [you like monaco?]

ynuser: yes!! i love it. you, me, rebecca and max should grab dinner one night while im here!!

carlossainz55: i’d love that

maxverstappen1: you can always move 🤷🏻‍♂️

ynuser: maybe one day 🤔

elbaoward: my work here is done 🥹

ynuser: you are a magician. how’d you know we were perfect for each other?

elbaoward: bc i know my best friend 🤍

ynuser: te amo elba 🫶🏻

redbullracing: can’t wait to see you in vegas!

patriciooward has made a post

liked by ynuser, elbaoward, yourbff, maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 321,345 others

patriciooward: gentle mornings with my hermanas

view all 223 comments

user12: oh max is in the likes 👀

ynuser: why do you insist on picking the worst photos

patriciooward: it’s my brand

elbaoward: 💁🏻‍♀️

maxverstappen1: send me the last pic

patriciooward: done!

ynuser: PATO wtf

user12: user13 you were right

user1: oh to have gentle mornings with pato 😭

user3: i love that he calls y/n his sister too

ynuser has made a post 🔒

liked by maxverstappen1, yourbff, carlossainz55, iamrebeccad, patriciooward, and 313 others

ynuser: la vida últimamente [life lately]

view all 22 comments

yourbff: ugh the red hair suits you

ynuser: i agree 🥹

maxverstappen1: prettiest girl in the whole world

ynuser: mi amor 🥹 i love you 🤍

maxverstappen1: te amo

elbaoward: the spanish 😭🥹🩷

maxverstappen1: i’m working on it!

iamrebeccad: dinner last night was so fun. let’s do it again 🤍

ynuser: i’d love that!! see you in vegas darling

patriciooward: oh so you’ll post but not answer my texts

ynuser: yes exactly

friend1: hermosa chica [beautiful girl]

maxverstappen1 has posted to his story

view all story replies

user2: max emilian the man that you are

user4: screaming crying throwing up. i can’t believe he’s off the market

ynuser: my man my man my man 😍

maxverstappen1: that’s me baby

ynuser: thanks for inviting me to vegas with you

maxverstappen1: schjate you’re invited everywhere with me. i never want to be without you

ynuser: omg you big softie

charlesleclerc: oh she’s got you dressing up now too?

maxverstappen1: i want to look nice for my girl what can i say

charlesleclerc: oh he’s in love

maxverstappen1: 🤭 maybe

user5: i ! can’t believe you’re not wearing skinny jeans. the power she must have

schecoperez: i like this girl 😉

maxverstappen1: me too

user6: the emoji???????? max i’m speechless who are you

ynuser has added multiple stories 🔒

view all story replies

yourbff: god you’re gorgeous. have so much fun at the race baby

ynuser: thank you bebe. vegas is amazing - i am having the best time

yourbff: living vicariously through you 🥹

maxverstappen1: you have no business looking this good especially when there’s nothing i can do about it 😫

ynuser: win me the race and you can have me as a prize later 😉

maxverstappen1: you got it baby

elbaoward: are you in red bull hospitality??? come to mclaren i want to see youuuuu

ynuser: yes i’m in red bull but will cross enemy lines for you gorgeous

patriciooward: hermana donde estas? [sister where are you?]

ynuser: omw patito

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, yourbff, user3, user4, user5, user6, user7 and 7,234 others

f1gossip: in an interview earlier today max confirmed his relationship with, y/n y/l/n. y/n is childhood friends with elba and pato o’ward and it turns out that the siblings introduced max and y/n in miami earlier this season. the pair hit it off immediately according to max and “it was the closest thing to love at first sight he’d ever experienced.” she’s in attendance today at the grand prix! let us know if you get the chance to meet her and if there’s any further intel you get

view all 271 comments

user1: ohhhhh max 🥹

user2: this interview melted my heart. he looked so genuinely happy to be talking about her

user7: i love seeing him happy

user3: i’m obsessed with them already. perhaps my new favorite wag

user4: love at first sight???? i’m not crying! you are!!

user6: the way max also talked about trying to learn spanish for her because she’s mexican and how he’s also trying to teach her some of his language too 🥹😭

user8: this is the sweetest thing. that is true love idc what any of yall say

user5: i hope a love like this finds me one day

maxverstappen1 has made a post

liked by ynuser, yourbff, schecoperez, alex_albon, patriciooward, and 645,123 others

maxverstappen1: vegas you were a fun one - thanks for having me and y/n/n!

view all 546 comments

user2: y/n/n 😭

user4: crying my eyes out

user6: yayyy maxie!!! glad to see you on the podium again

ynuser: te amo mucho vegas 🤍

maxverstappen1: and you te amo mucho me too right?

ynuser: omg yes maxie. i love you endlessly

user14: SIMP

user15: max asking for validation has done something to me.

charlesleclerc: great drive max!

patriciooward: take care of my girl ok?

maxverstappen1: you got it pato! no need to worry

redbullracing: our champion 💪🏻

user8: jealousy isn’t cute on me but here we are

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thank you for reading!! reblogs, feedback and likes are very appreciated 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[kyluff]

— ↺ ‘When He Eat The Cookie He Got Good Form’

✎ luffy + zoro + sanji x reader !

✦ summary ➠ one piece men eating you out blurbs

✦ warnings ➠ nsfw, cunnilingus, swearing, almost getting caught

✦ note ➠ 3000+ LIKES ON MY CLINGY GOJO POST?!? thats actually insane, I’m so happy thank you for all the support 😨🫶

✪ Monkey D. Luffy

— You felt shaking, hands were on you and vigorously pushing and pulling you. Your eyes weren’t open yet, they couldn’t, you were just sleeping a few seconds ago and now you were being rudely awaken. Keeping your eyes closed, you called out for your boyfriend.

“What, what is it Luffy?” You sighed, shoving your face further in the blanket, trying to go back to the time when you were still sound asleep. “It’s still nighttime, go back to bed.”

He whined out, nuzzling his face in your neck. “But I’m hungry.”

Of course he is, you shook your head in annoyance. “That’s what you woke me up for? Wait and eat in the morning like the rest of us.”

Luffy licked your cheek, leaving heavy and warm breaths on it. He always was so impatient when he wanted something, especially when hunger was what he wanted. “But I cant.”

You were shocked, you really shouldn’t be though, he was obsessed with food to point where it was slightly unhealthy. You forcefully shoved his face away from you, making him fall on his side of the bed. “Well too bad, now go to sleep.”

“I can’t, not when I’m so hungry.” He huffed out, sounding defeated by his own words, at least it seemed like he was done with this stunt. But you felt bad a little bit, if he was so hungry that he couldn’t even sleep, then that’s an issue.

“If you’re really that hungry go to the kitchen.” That was the final thing you were going to say, now you were for real going to sleep.

You felt him shuffling beside you and the bed swaying from his movement. It melt like he was moving down the bed, making it to the foot of it. You ignored him, just wanting this to be over.

He disappeared under to covers for a minute, lifting your leg and placing himself between them. “Why would I go to the kitchen? My foods already right here.”

For the first time that night your eyes fluttered open, taking a moment to adjust to the environment. You reached in the dark for the light, turning it on and removing the cloth that separated the two of you, bLuffy was there, resting his cheek on your thigh. He had a lazy and goofy smile on his face like he always did, but his eyes were different. His eyes stared into your soul, hunger definitely evident in his gaze.

“Oh,” That’s all you could say, you had just been waken and had to face this. “You’re that type of hungry.”

The man between your limbs nodded eagerly, relieved that you had finally understood him. He had awoken in the middle of the night and the feeling washed over him, he couldn’t sleep after that, he needed you.

“Well, eat then.” That’s all it took for him rip off your shorts and underwear, revealing you to him. You could never deny your boyfriend, even if it was so late, not when he looked so longingly up at you.

He delve in instantly, not being able to wait any longer. His mouth was wide open against your folds, sucking and nudging them how ever he wished. Luffy didn’t focus on anywhere in particular when he ate you out, he liked to pay attention to every part of you down there, making it a messy operation, your juices spread across his face and everywhere on your thighs.

“Oh-h, so good.” This session Luffy seemed to really want it, he was licking so aggressively and tugged harshly at your lips. You weren’t complaining, the pleasure was almost unbearable.

It wasn’t till he placed a bite on your clit that you felt the beginnings of your end. He’s never done this before, but the new found trick brought you dangerously close to your climax.

“Do it again!” You pleaded, wanting to feel that same sensation from before. And he listened, using his canine to squish your bud, he lapped at the same spot to soothe it. You came undone, Luffy crawled up your body and dropped onto your chest, you noticed he had a soft grin on his face.

“You really were hungry, huh?” Your fingers started playing and twirling mindlessly with his hair.

“Mhm.” He hummed, closing his eyes from the comfort he received at the mercy of your hands. You too shut your eyes, being able to sleep again.

✪ Roronoa Zoro

— If there was one thing you knew about your boyfriend, it was how much he liked eating pussy. He’d eat it from the back, he’d eat it in sixty nine, he’d eat in the shower. He would literally do it anywhere at anytime. A position he hadn’t tried though was you sitting on his face.

So right now, he decided that you were going to sit on his face, but you were having some difficulty with that. You hovered over his awaiting mouth, using the headboard of the bed to hold yourself up.

“Sit on my face already.” He wrapped his buff arms around your thighs, attempting to pull you down on his face.

“Z-Zoro, don’t you think I’ll be to heavy?” You quivered, not letting him win the tug of war you were having.

“Don’t care,” The greened haired man loosened his grip, letting you raise slightly. “Just want to taste you.”

You bit your lip, thinking about how desperate his expression looked, you could tell he really wanted this and who were you to deny? You reluctantly lowered yourself closer to his face, making sure not to have your whole weight on him.

His lips chased yours, coming up to meet your dripping core where it was above him. He slowly made out with it, messily sucking and slurping. He quickly shook his face in your heat, spreading the juices he has created.

“Fucking come here.” His words were muffled against your skin as he forced you to fully sit down on his face. Your cheeked flushed in embarrassment, worrying if you were to much for your boyfriend to bare. You tried to get off, but the strong arms on your legs kept you in place.

“Zoro!” You whimpered, grasp tightening on the wooden frame.

He only carried on, now comfortable with the position you were in, nice and snug to his face. His tongue worked quick and tight circles on your bud, not stopping until he heard a moan rip from your vocal cords.

You glanced down on him through your droopy eyes, he was also looking up at you. His eyes always stood out to you, they were always stern and fierce, staring right through you.

He kept eye contact with you as he face moved deeper into you, his nose becoming smaller in size. Your stomach did flips in response, contracting as you felt tingling down there.

He smiled into you, he could see how much you liked sitting on his face, and to think on how you were so against it before.

His grin became bigger as he noticed how close you were, this might be the quickest he’s ever made you come.

Picking up his pace, he pushed you over the edge until you came undone onto his smushed face. “How do you like the new position now?”

✪ Vinsmoke Sanji

— You were becoming very annoyed at your boyfriends current antics, he’s been at it for what it felt like hours now. You sat on a chair in the kitchen, attempting to enjoy the beautiful meal that Sanji had prepared for you. That task was almost impossible though, due to the man that was positioned at your feet in front your chair.

“For the tenth time, Sanji, the answer is no.” You huffed out, stabbing another piece of food with your fork.

“Please, Y/n! Just one taste!” He begged, smushing his blushing face against your exposed knee. You had decided to wear a skirt today as it was very warm outside, it seemed to have an affect on the blonde man.

“I’m trying to eat, can’t you wait until I’m at least finished?” You wiggled your leg, trying to shake the man attached to your knee off of you.

His grasp became harder, slowing your movements until they stopped totally. His face moved closer, it reached the hem of your skirt where he brought his fingers to fidget with it softly. “I can’t wait, need it right now.”

Normally you wouldn’t put up such a fuss, but you were in the kitchen, anyone could walk in whenever they wanted. “Sanji, what if someone came in? Like if Luffy got hungry and ran in, what then?”

“I’ll be quick, promise.” He started laying quick kisses on your thighs, his eyes still looked at you from below waiting for your response.

You thought about it for a moment, sighing in defeat. “You promise?” He nodded eagerly, eyes filled with lust as he glanced up at you. You nodded your head in agreement, once you gave him the go ahead he immediately flipped your skirt and dived straight in, head disappearing under the flowy material.

At first he kissed you through the cloth that separated him from your bare pussy, his breath was warm when it fanned onto you. He pulled your underwear off, revealing everything to him.

For some reason unknown to you as you couldn’t see Sanji because of your bottoms he paused in his tracks, not going further.

“You said you’d be fast, get on with it and eat me out already.” You gave him time to resume his prior actions but when he refused and stayed in his place, you threw the skirt up off his head. “What are yo-”

“Just admiring my pretty girl.” Anyone would assume that he was referring to you, but you knew what he was talking about and it wasn’t your face. It was your cunt.

“Shut up.” You forced his face into your core, you couldn’t look at him any longer, just thinking about his words made a wave of heat form in your lower stomach.

Your boyfriend didn’t protest, starting to lick long strips up your slit, sucking on your bud when he reached it at the end. He repeatedly did this until he felt your juices slipping everywhere, now your hole was ready for his tongue. He slipped it inside, letting it slowly slide in to its full length.

You whimpered in response, hands flying to his yellow hair. “Keep going.”

He listened to your pleads, swirling his muscle around in circles before pulling out and searching upwards for your buzzing clit. You felt his lips wrap around it, applying suction on it, during all of this the tip of his tongue poked through his lips and flicked at your bud.

“So close, Sanji!” Your legs enclosed on his torso, trapping him. His actions became faster, suction harder and flicking harsher. It was all too much for your aching cunt, your climax was nearing.

Just as you were about to let go, you heard a voice coming from outside the door. “Sanji! I’m hungry when it food going to be ready!?”

“Have some patience Luffy, you pig!” He pulled away to yell at the pirate captain, stuffing his face back in like nothing had happened.

“Sanj-ji he’s going to walk in here!” You felt tears sting your eyes at the stressful situation that had a chance to occur, but the tears were also present in your eyes due to the fact that the feeling from before was back again.

The cook didn’t respond, eating you out the same as before the interruption. You panted, pawing at his locks as you came on Sanjis mouth.

He quickly licked it all up, placing your panties back on and flattened out your skirt to normal just in time before the energetic black haired boy came barreling through the kitchen doors.

[sunrizef1]

Please Please Please

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Warnings: None

Authors Note: this isn't what the poll was for dw lmao | also I've been caught out by lando once again 😭 he's just the best fit for this song

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yourusername

📍Buenos Aires, Argentina

liked by taylorswift landonorris and 2,349,022 others

yourusername Had a great time opening for #TSTheErasTour in Buenos Aires! Muchas gracias, Argentina! 🇦🇷

load comments…

user1 so so so pretty 😭

user2 I was there 🥰

user3 loml

user4 I LOVE HER SO MUCH

user5 just looked in the mirror and sighed

user6 my favorite outfit from this leg of the tour

taylorswift 💕

yourusername 💕

user7 I FEEL SO MUCH LIGHTER LIKE A FEATHER WITH YOU OFF MY MIND

user8 that second picture is so adorable I’m screaming 😭😭😭

user9 IM TALKING NONSENSE

user10 new album when???

user11 Lando Norris in the likes??? 😭

user12 wait who is that

user13 an f1 driver 😭

user12 what’s he doing here

user13 idk 😭

user14 Y/N RUN QUICK LANDOS HERE

user15 we can’t let him get her 😭

user16 she’s so pretty I’m in love with her 🫶

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yourusername added to their story

landonorris

🤩🤩🤩🤩

yourusername

🤭🤭🤭🤭

landonorris

I saw you open for Taylor

in Brazil

your were wonderful

yourusername

I’m flattered 🥰

landonorris

I’d be even more flattered if I could take you on a date

yourusername

You usually this confident?

landonorris

No, I’m actually not

yourusername

Well

I’d love to go on a date with you Mr Norris

landonorris

😅 thank god that worked

You ever around Monaco?

yourusername

Not usually

But I could be 😚

I’m off next week <3

landonorris

Perfect

See you then

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TWITTER

MESSAGES

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by landonorris jackantonoff and 4,777,008 others

yourusername that’s that me espresso ☕️🩵

load comments…

user17 rip sharpay evans you would’ve loved espresso by y/n l/n

user18 it’s actually so good omg

user19 best song ever made fr

user20 love love love

user21 truly that girl

user22 ON REPEAT

user23 I love her more than life

user24 IM WORKING LATE CUS IM A SINGERRRRRR

user25 face card never declines

jackantonoff rly good!

yourusername thanks jacky 🥰

user26 jack x y/n collab when???

user27 Landos back in the likes…

user28 free my girl from the shackles of a man

user29 oh my god is the song about him

user30 they haven’t been seen together in a while so I sure hope not 😭

user31 song of the year

user32 🩵🩵🩵

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yourusername added to their story

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by taylorswift maxfewtrell and 4,000,112 others

yourusername I'm working lateee cuz its my birthdayyy 💛

load comments…

user33 how to lose a guy in 10 days dress!!! 💛

user34 💛💛💛

user35 that polaroid looks suspiciously like lando

user36 that could legitimately be anyone

user37 of course but unfortunately she's been seen with him recently so…

user38 not lando…

user39 so pretty 🤩

user40 y'all rly hate lando? That mans been so supportive I legit can't not like him

user41 ikr! I'm a proud lando defender. No reason to hate him.

user42 I love them together idc

maxfewtrell happy birthday!

yourusername thanks max 🫶

user43 still not convinced that's lando

user44 girl.

user45 😍

user46 happy birthday girl!!!

user47 my favorite pop girlie

user48 IM WORKING LATEEEEE

user49 queen 👑

user50 I love lando 💛💛💛

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TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

🎵 Please Please Please - Y/N L/N

liked by landonorris maxverstappen and 9,880,771 others

yourusername I know I have good taste

load comments…

user51 hardest of hard launches

user52 I LOVE THEM TOGETHER I DONT CARE

user53 favourite couple 💛

user54 gorgeous gorgeous people

user55 LANDOOOOO

user56 lando wasn't even acting in that video that's just how down bad he is

user57 that first pic… 😍

user58 bring your bf to work day

user59 ...okay maybe I like him 🙄

user60 wait hes kinda hot 😭

user61 my royal couple

maxverstappen is lando gonna be an actor now???

yourusername its a good backup plan if the driving thing doesn't work out

landonorris I think I'll leave the acting to you

maxverstappen that's for the best mate

user62 lmao max

user63 they're so pretty 🥰🥰🥰

user64 so it couple core

user65 ATEEEE

landonorris yeah you do 💛

yourusername 🙄💛

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landonorris added to their story

user1

Y'all r so cute

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user2

yeah she is

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user3

😍😍😍😍

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user4

I still don't trust you car boy

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user5

the music video was so good!!!!

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yourusername

I love you 💛

landonorris

love you too 💛

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@casperlikej @evie-119

[leia-writes]

Hello!!! Could I request a heavily pregnant reader x In-ho? When In-ho didn't tell reader that he would be joining the games and left while she was sleeping and she threw a tantrum about it because she misses him and his scent and the guards try to signal him about it but he failed to notice. So when she saw him again she won't let him go. I need more sfw with this man please 🙏

-thank you so much🫶

Fall To Pieces

hwang in-ho | front man x reader

ao3 link

masterlist

song inspiration: fall to pieces by avril lavigne

note: thanks for your request! hope this did your idea justice!

warnings: pregnancy, angst, fluff, mentions of violence

word count: 2,797

posted on: 1/16/2025

Your body ached as you slowly lowered yourself onto the soft leather loveseat, sitting next to your husband, Hwang In-ho. He had just arrived from the control room to your shared residence. The first game, Red Light, Green Light, was about to begin on the large screen in front of you.

You rubbed your pregnant belly as you relaxed into your seat, feeling like you could burst at any moment. After 8 months of carrying your first child together, you were ready for it to be over with. And it didn’t help that you had planned it so close to this year’s games. You wanted to have your baby right after the games ended to get the most out of your time together, but now you were completely anxious that you’d have the baby early and have to have it on the island. All you wanted to do was nest and be comfortable in your own home.

In-ho gave you a loving look. “How are you feeling, darling?” He reached his hand to yours on your stomach.

“Everything hurts. I’m tired. How long do we have to be here again?” you pouted.

“It won’t be too much longer, just a few days.” He reached his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, kissing the top of your head.

You sighed. You wanted to lean into him and rest on his shoulder but nothing felt comfortable. “This baby is killing me, you know.”

He looked at your exhausted face, pleading for respite, before gently pushing you away to readjust. “I know, darling. Why don’t you lean against me here and I’ll try to make you feel a little better?”

He turned his body towards you, pulling you to his chest so you could lay on him as you both laid across the sofa. The warmth of his chest brought a little comfort to your aching back. You sighed as he began to knead your neck and shoulder muscles.

He rubbed your shoulders down to your arms, tightly squeezing every so often to relax your muscles and warm your skin. You melted into his touch, letting out a content sigh.

“You know what else would make me feel better?”

Your thoughts dazed in your mind as you relaxed and imagined the most delicious ice cream you could think of. You were quickly interrupted by In-ho.

“That ice cream you like?”

You smiled, eyes closed, leaning on In-ho. It was getting late and you were so exhausted these days. “Of course. I wish we had some right now.”

He lazily rubbed your hair. “I know, I’m sorry. Do you want anything else?”

You sighed, slowly sitting up. “No. I’m just going to go to bed. I can’t stay up for this.”

In-ho stood up and walked with you to your side of the bed, giving you a chaste kiss on the forehead as you laid down. 

You eyed him playfully. “What, are you going to tuck me in like a child now?” you teased.

He scoffed, looking away but laughing. “Just taking care of you, darling. Goodnight.”

You smiled, sinking further into your blanket, sleep already threatening to take over as In-ho turned out the light.

“Goodnight.”

~~~

The next morning you awoke to an empty bed. Not necessarily out of the ordinary, but you hated being apart from In-ho lately. With the baby coming, your duties had been severely limited, and you felt like you spent your days just waiting for In-ho to come back. 

You got ready for the day, but everything felt off. Normally, you’d hear In-ho and the others on the radio, especially with the games happening now. Except you didn’t hear In-ho once.

You got dressed. In-ho’s uniform was still in the closet.

You walked into the main room. In-ho’s mask was still on the side table. Along with a note.

“Go to the freezer.”

Anxiety stirred within you. Upon opening the freezer, you saw your favorite ice cream - along with another note. 

“I’m playing undercover. Staff knows. Don’t worry - be back soon.”

You were stunned, reading the note over and over as if your brain couldn’t absorb the information. You dropped the note and stormed into the main room, activating the display and selecting cameras. 

Multiple camera views appeared in front of you, and you scanned a sea of players and their numbers. After a few moments, you found Player 001.

In-ho.

Your In-ho.

Dread filled your body. You knew In-ho was keeping an eye on Gi-hun, but like this? How could he be so reckless? The guards would keep him safe, but still, you couldn’t help yourself from jumping to the worst possible outcomes. 

How could he leave you?

You collapsed onto the sofa, immediately crying. If you didn’t feel vulnerable enough before, you definitely did now. It felt like nothing was going to happen according to plan now - you’d have your baby early, and have it on the island instead of comfortably near home, and In-ho would die in the games just because he wanted to spite Gi-hun.

You hurled the remote to the screen, watching as it clattered on the floor. Frustration started to take over. In-ho had no right to abandon you at such an important time.

You snatched your radio from the table. “Officer.”

A brief moment of silence, then, “Yes, Captain.”

“Come here. Now.”

You waited a few minutes, distraught in silence. When the Officer appeared before you, you glared at him.

“Get him out now.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Of course you can. Now do it.”

“He said only to take him out if it’s an emergency.”

You scoffed. “Tell him it’s an emergency then.”

He shifted uneasily. “I can’t go against orders.”

Your eyes bore through the officer’s mask as you contemplated what to do. In-ho would be two steps ahead of you no matter what you tried to do. There was no getting him back.

At least through the Officer.

You sighed in frustration, looking away. “Get out.”

The Officer promptly walked away. Once the elevator doors closed, you let yourself cry again. You just couldn’t believe you were being put in this position. All you wanted was to go home with In-ho, but instead you felt abandoned by everyone at the worst possible time. You were used to working alongside In-ho and having just as much of a voice as he does, but now you felt like everyone just saw you as his pregnant wife.

You turned off the screen and walked back to bed, your back aching intensely, taking a nap and hoping In-ho would miraculously be there when you woke up.

~~~

Of course, he wasn’t.

You watched the screen throughout the day, observing how In-ho slowly infiltrated Gi-hun’s group. Jealousy wracked your body - how did they deserve to be with In-ho more than you? It was clear why In-ho stepped in but you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking irrationally. 

That night, you cried yourself to sleep, knowing he wouldn’t be there when you woke up. Even though he would sometimes go to bed after you, at least he was still with you through the night. Your only consolation was to pull up a camera view on your tablet so you could watch him as you tried to get comfortable in the cold, lonely bed.

The next day, you watched In-ho and the players go through the six-legged pentathlon. In-ho looked like he was even enjoying himself for a few moments. Obviously he needed to fit in, but did he really have to be so brazen about it, knowing you were watching?

You tried so hard to stay calm, knowing stress would be the worst for your baby right now. But occasionally you’d feel a little kick, especially when you were watching In-ho, and your maternal instincts couldn’t help but take over. You had to come up with a plan to get a message to him.

After the game was over, you wandered over to the guard’s quarters, being sure to avoid the Officer. Before the guards turned in for the night, you pulled one aside.

“You need to tell him to come back.”

The guard froze in place, clearly glancing at your stomach. None of the guards had seen you since you started showing. 

You squeezed his arm tighter. “When he goes to the bathroom, pull him aside and bring him back.”

“I- I don’t know who w-will be there when-”

“I don’t care who it is, make sure it happens.”

You quickly walked away, not wanting to draw attention to anyone nearby or looking on the cameras. 

Once you arrived back home, you sat on the couch and attempted to get comfortable. You planned on watching the cameras all night until you could see In-ho leave and the guards bring him back. You didn’t want to focus on anything else, even though your body ached with pain and sorrow.

Inevitably, after a while, you couldn’t fight your body anymore and you fell asleep. You slept for another few hours before being woken up by a commotion on the screen.

“-with me this way.” 

You saw In-ho talking to a pink guard. “Why? Isn’t the bathroom this way?”

The guard paused, clearly trying to come up with something. “No? This way. Let’s go.”

In-ho scoffed, and you saw a couple other players approach behind him. “What are you talking about?”

The guard noticed the other players joining, clearly ruining his plan now. He sighed. “My apologies. This way.”

In-ho eyed the guard as they walked the correct way towards the bathrooms now. He glanced at a camera nearby, unknowingly looking right at you. His expression was indecipherable.

Your heart ached, and you felt a kick in your stomach. In-ho looked away and proceeded as normal. Your plan had failed.

~~~

The next day you watched as In-ho played through Mingle. You wondered what he was thinking in these types of moments - did he care for the people around him, or just see them as nothing more than pawns, even though he was getting to know them personally? It felt crazy to question it, but you couldn’t stop your mind from wondering if he thought of you, or if he wondered how you were doing.

Terrible, you’d tell him. Awful without him.

After the game, you set up another attempt to contact In-ho, slipping a note into his gimbap and instructing the guards to give In-ho that specific one. You went back home to watch your plan unfold again, hopefully successfully this time. You cheered internally when they gave him the correct gimbap, and patiently waited for him to reach the note. 

Unfortunately with tensions rising amongst the players, In-ho was distracted and never even finished the gimbap enough to reach the note. You covered your face in frustration. There was never a time you’d seen In-ho not finish his food. It was as if he was deliberately foiling your plans. 

The situation was becoming worse and worse. The more time passed, the more anxiety you felt that you could give birth without In-ho there. And even more importantly, the more the players became violent towards each other. How far could the guards really go to protect In-ho? Another player could definitely harm him before any guards stood a chance at protecting him.

As you expected, a fight broke out that night. In-ho was safely tucked away under a bed, but things were escalating fast. Your heart raced. It was becoming too much too quickly, and you couldn’t help but scream orders over the radio. “Why is this still going on?! End it now!”

“Suppress,” the officer spoke over the radio. Guards immediately went into the room to stop the fighting, and luckily In-ho was unscathed. As the guards were checking the dead bodies, some of the players suddenly snatched their guns and began shooting. You watched in horror as several players began killing the guards, In-ho even joining them.

Once the guards were gone, you saw an organized effort to gather all guns and ammo and begin a drive towards the control room. In-ho was still with them. You were worried sick for him but hoped this was finally his chance to come back. Several voices spoke over each other in a frenzy on the radio as guards mobilized against the players. All you could do was watch helplessly as you saw In-ho deliberately put himself in danger. 

His recklessness was going to give you a heart attack. 

You screamed through the radio, “If anyone even gets close to hitting him, even so much as a graze, I will kill you myself.” You scanned through the surveillance cameras and watched as In-ho and the players moved towards the control room, one by one running out of ammo. In-ho strategically navigated two players into the back hallways, coming up behind Gi-hun and Jung-bae. For a moment, In-ho looked into the camera.

Your heart skipped a beat. You knew he was finally coming home.

You watched as In-ho finally turned on the group, losing the Young-il persona. It was almost as if he was enjoying it. After killing the two players with him, he grabbed his radio. “Start wrapping things up,” he ordered, before looking up at the camera again. 

“Lockdown all residences.”

Before you could even process what he said, you heard the elevator doors lock, a red light illuminating above it. Your only way in or out. He had locked you in. 

Fuming, you called out on the radio. “What are you doing?”

In-ho responded calmly. “Keeping you safe.”

“Am I that helpless to you?” you spat. You were, in fact, feeling that helpless, but you’d never let it be known.

In-ho ignored you, which made you even more mad. You shut off your radio, turned off the screen, and stormed into your bedroom. If he was going to play with your emotions like this, you had no need to rush to him anyways. He could find you when he felt like it.

You curled up in bed crying, pulling the blankets to your chin and mindlessly rubbing your belly to soothe yourself. You were exhausted but couldn’t bear to fall asleep then. In your distress, you didn’t even hear the elevator door open, or footsteps approaching from the hallway, or your bedroom door opening.

“Darling.”

You quickly turned your head towards In-ho, your face swollen from crying. As soon as you saw him, all of your anger and frustration melted away into relief.

Your lip trembled, tears flowing even more now as you slowly sat up in bed. “In-ho…”

He rushed to your side and embraced you, cradling your head in his hand and rubbing your back with the other. You clung to him desperately, sobbing into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

You wanted to yell at him, shove him away from you, hit him, but you couldn’t manage anything except breaking down in his arms. 

“My poor darling. Are you alright?” He pulled away to get a good look at you.

Shocked, you glared at him through blurry eyes. “Of course I’m not okay, how could you ask me that?” You finally had the wherewithal to shove his shoulder. “How could you abandon me like that? What if the baby came, hm? What if someone killed you?!”

You were becoming frantic. In-ho embraced you again, trying desperately to calm you down. “Shh, darling, it’s alright now. Everything’s okay.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, weeping. “Don’t ever do that to me ever… ever again.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

You sighed. “Don’t make a promise you can’t keep.”

He kissed the top of your head and helped you stand up. “I know. I won’t.” He wiped your face before giving you a long kiss. “I missed you, you know.”

You rolled your eyes. “Didn’t seem like it,” you said before shoving him again. “Did you make some new friends?”

He smiled at your sarcasm and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, leading you back to the main room and helping you to sit on the couch.

“One more thing.”

He ran to the kitchen before rushing back with your ice cream. “You didn’t eat any of it?”

You scoffed. “How could I? You left me inconsolable for days.”

He sat next to you with your favorite treat. “I wanted you to feel a little better,” he pouted, looking almost dejectedly at you.

You laughed and leaned on his shoulder. “This wouldn’t have helped anyways. I just wanted you.” 

In-ho kissed the top of your head before wrapping his arms around you. He’d missed you so much during his time away, no matter how necessary it was.

“I know. I love you. Let’s go home soon, okay?”

[afterglowsainz]

eternal sunshine | charles leclerc

summary: you and charles decide to fake date to get back at your exes

fc: ariana grande

a/n: a bit late (mostly because i didn’t had any time nor inspiration) but finally here it is, a fic about THE 2024 monaco grand prix winner

—

liked by arthur_leclerc and others

f1.wags charles leclerc posted a statement earlier today confirming the end of his relationship with his girlfriend

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username NOOOOOO

username pls say sike pls say sike

username definitely not the way i wanted to start the weekend like

username so love is dead guys good to know 💔

username they were the it couple 😢

username im going to pretend i didn’t see this

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ynupdates it’s confirmed that y/n y/l/n and her boyfriend have broken up after fours years of dating

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username WHAT

username omg nooo😭

username why is everyone breaking up!!!

username i don’t believe in love anymore

username her best friend liked the post so it’s really really true i’m gonna cry 😭

username yeah also the sun posted an article saying that a close source to the couple confirmed it

liked by f1.wags, ynupdates and others

deuxmoi actor jacob elordi and actress charlotte berzatto have been spotted recently on different occasions going out on dates

tagged jacobelordi, charlotteberzatto

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username excuse me what?

username and who’s this charlotte girl? 🤨

username she’s an european actress

username charles leclerc’s ex girlfriend

username wait wasn’t he dating y/n y/l/n like two weeks ago? i’m confused

username girl they broke up where you’ve been 😭

username yeah but they broke up like five minutes ago this seems…

username i did not expect that

username not them breaking up with their partners to get together 😭

liked by carmenmmundt, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername new things coming soon who’s happy🫧💐

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username OMG WE’RE GETTING A NEW ALBUM

username you actually just cured my depression with this post

username mother has that post breakup glow

username we love to see it

lilymhe gorgeous! 💕

yourusername lilyyy💘

username the flowers???

username who send them!!!

username jacob elordi count your days

username charles in the likes?? 😭

username they’re friends chill

liked by yourusername, pierregasly and others

charles_leclerc happy times 😁

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username pookie came back! 🫶🏽

username now what is charles doing in a music studio 🤨🤨

username he’s so hot just ughhh

username is that… y/n’s dog… ???

username nah

username now that you mention it i think it could be but idk 😭

username he’s so boyfriend coded

username y/n in the likes 👀👀👀👀

username this just keeps getting messier and messier😭

liked by bffusername, francisca.cgomes and others

ynupdates y/n has been seen recently on multiple dates with formula 1 driver charles leclerc

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username ma’am???

username well this took a turn

username are they actually dating or…

username i meaaan look at that third and last pic and ask again

username the lore on this four people is just endless fr 😭

username they’re so real for swapping partners just like that

username literally blink and you miss it

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and others

yourusername my new single ‘don’t wanna break up again’ is out now for all of you💘 i also sing it for the first time ever on snl tonight if you’re interested in that🫶🏽

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username YES NEW MUSIC FROM MOTHER

username this song ATE

username the queen is back i used to pray for times like this😭

lilymhe such a gooood song💓 (liked by yourusername)

username so you’re telling me THAT man used to turn up the volume of the tv to not hear her cry??? yeah he’s DONE

username i literally heard that and had to pause for a second because what???

username also her calling their relationship of four years a “situationship” 😭😭

username she’s so unserious i love her

charles_leclerc on repeat 24/7 ❤️‍🩹

yourusername 🤍🤍🤍

francisca.cgomes completely obsessed!💖 (liked by yourusername)

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and others

scuderiaferrari such a pleasure to have yourusername on the garage this weekend! 🫧

tagged yourusername, charles_leclerc

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username she looks stunning 🤩

username the pic with charles omg they’re so cute🥰🥰

username y/n in the paddock every race week please and thank you

yourusername tysm! forza ferrari❤️

username babes what other words in italian did charles taught you? i need to know

username dare i say new ferrari it couple?

username the fact that they haven’t confirmed anything 😭

username i mean you don’t really have to be a genius just a bit of common sense

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charles_leclerc keep the podiums coming🏆🐎

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username il predestinato does it again 😮‍💨😮‍💨

username let’s go charles 💪🏽

username yesss charles show y/n what you can do‼️

carlossainz55 nice race!👊🏽

username very well deserved podium, such a nice race charles❤️❤️

username the fact that he was looking for y/n the whole time he was on the podium 😭

username I KNEW I WASNT THE ONLY ONE WHO NOTICED

username no cause bro was looking everyone and once he clocked her the biggest smile on his face

yourusername congratulations! ❤️‍🩹

charles_leclerc ❤️

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f1.wags if there was doubt before there definitely isn’t anymore! charles leclerc and singer y/n y/l/n were spotted kissing at the after party of this weekend’s grand prix and leaving together

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username THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE

username don’t know if i wanna be charles or y/n to be honest

username joris and arthur liking this 😭😭

username i love that they’re together they just fit

username agree, a bit unexpected since their exes are also dating each other but still, they’re very cute💕

username okay i wasn’t a fan of y/n but i’m definitely gonna start listening to her now

username does this mean we’re getting happy songs from y/n about charles?

username omg girl I HOPE

liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and others

yourusername eternal sunshine (the song) is out right now with the very special appearance of charles_leclerc in the music video (❤️) and eternal sunshine (the album) is out next friday! 💕

tagged charles_leclerc

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username i’m so so proud of y/n this song is perfect! can’t wait for the album 🤍

username this is the first time she’s featured a boyfriend in a music video and i’m so down for it🥰

username they’re look cute together!

username them on the bts of the video 💞💞💞

lilymhe you’re perfect and this song is everything🤍

yourusername love love love you lils 💘

username who would’ve thought mr charles leclerc can ACT!

username “hope you feel alright when you’re in her” i gasped

username no because that took me by surprise

username okay but we got “i got a good boy and he’s on my side” so it brought me back hope

charles_leclerc so proud of you, mon coeur❤️

yourusername i love you charlie❤️

liked by yourusername, pierregasly and others

charles_leclerc so so so proud of you my love❤️ this is the most amazing project ever and the fact that i was able to participate in any way brings me so much joy. you’re a musical genius and an incredible human being🤍 stream eternal sunshine☀️

tagged yourusername

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username if you look closely you can see me in the background crying

username this is- they’re so- i’m- 😭

username no but they’re so perfect for each other i could cry

pierregasly who would’ve thought you could act 🤣

carlossainz55 new skill for the cv 😂

username “a musical genius and an incredible human being” charles leclerc why don’t you just rip my heart out yourself

username she looks so pretty in the mv and they’re so good together💞 i’m so happy for them

username no longer a child of divorce THESE are my real parents🫶🏽

yourusername i love you and i’m very very proud of you too❤️‍🩹

charles_leclerc mon amour you’re everything 🤍

[inkedinshadows]

Unraveling Truths

This is a bonus scene for my miniseries "A Helping Hand". You can read part 1 of 3 here. I know I wrote it in August, but I got a few requests for more so here we are.

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

Summary: Azriel finally explains to his mate what the wingspan business is all about.

Warnings: smut, oral (m receiving), written in 3rd POV (matching the rest of the series)

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: I love time zones because it’s 2am here but it’s still the 16th in the US so I’m technically not late :) This fic is just another proof that I can't write drabbles lol. Anyway, hank you @azrielsshadows42 for the inspo 🫶🏻 and thank you @azrielappreciationweek it was so much fun writing for this event 💙💙

“You still haven't told me.”

She watched him from his bed, the sight still so new that Azriel's heartbeat quickened each time he saw it.

For the past week, she had spent every night with him, usually in his room. Yet walking in to find her reading a book while she waited for him was something he was still getting used to. And something he would never take for granted.

Azriel sat on the edge of the bed, leaning closer to brush a kiss to her temple as she set the book down. “Told you what, beautiful?”

The corner of his lips curled up at the small blush that colored her cheeks, even after a week of hearing that nickname. He was never going to stop using it.

He began to take off his boots, holding his breath as she knelt behind him and unfastened the latches of his shirt. Her fingers brushed the base of his wings, and he had to muster all his self-control to keep his body from reacting.

“About wingspan,” she replied casually. “You still haven't explained it.”

He froze, sitting a bit straighter. “Why do you want to know?”

She undid the last latch, and though the shirt now hung loosely around his torso, he made no move to remove it.

“Because I want to know all about you.” She moved to sit beside him, seemingly unaware of his slight change in demeanor. “And because you said you'd explain, but you still haven't.”

Azriel swallowed thickly. He'd been happy to hold her in his arms every night, knowing she'd be the first thing he saw in the morning. His hands had never wandered too freely over her body. He wanted to take things slow with her, not only to respect the trauma she had endured, but also because she wasn't just another girl. She was his mate, and he'd be damned if he ruined things by rushing them.

But he couldn't deny he had thought about how she would feel. How she would taste. How she would look while he pleasured her.

Her question about wingspan certainly didn’t help.

And if she was bringing it up again after a week, her curiosity wasn’t likely to fade anytime soon.

“Alright,” he finally said, and she rewarded him with that beautiful smile of hers—the one that never failed to make his heart skip a beat. “Rumor has it that the span of an Illyrian’s wings reflects the size of… certain body parts.”

She frowned, a small crease appearing on her brow. He resisted the urge to smooth it away with his thumb.

“What body parts?” she asked, her gaze wandering up and down his body as if she could see the answer somewhere.

He was glad she wasn’t looking at his face when he replied, “Intimate body parts, Y/N.”

Her eyes shot up to meet his, wide with surprise and shock. A faint blush colored her cheeks as she looked down again. Straight at his crotch.

Azriel had to draw on five hundred years of composure to keep himself from shifting—and, more importantly, from hardening under her gaze. She’s just surprised, he told himself. That’s why she’s looking. Nothing more.

When she met his eyes again, her voice was quiet, as though she was too shy to ask but couldn’t help herself.

“And, uh…” She paused, clearing her throat before finishing. “Are those just rumors?”

The words slipped out before he could think. “No. It’s true.”

She studied him for a moment, and he feared he’d said too much and made her uncomfortable. But before he could apologize, she spoke again.

“Does Cassian really have the largest wingspan?”

He couldn’t stop the smirk that spread across his lips. “He likes to brag about it, but no, he doesn’t.” And though he knew he probably shouldn’t, he added, “I do.”

Her eyes widened, dropping to his crotch again. This time, his body reacted before he could stop it, and he felt himself beginning to harden in his pants. Her cheeks flushed an ever deeper shade of red.

“Hey, it's alright,” he murmured, tilting her chin up so she would look at him. “I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

To his surprise, she gave him a soft smile. “You didn't. I asked. It's just…” Her voice trailed off, and she looked away for a moment before returning her focus to him.

“I just don't have much experience,” she whispered.

Azriel needed to change the topic immediately before his mind began running wild, thinking of all the things he could show her, all the sensations he could make her feel, all the possibilities. He reeled in his thoughts.

Sliding an arm around her waist, he pulled her closer. “It's alright,” he repeated, pressing another kiss to her temple. “We don't have to do anything. I don't want you to feel pressured.”

“But what if…” She hesitated, but as she bit her lip, she placed her hand on his leg, just above his knee but close enough for Azriel to be acutely aware of every small movement of her fingers. He was caught in a suspended moment, where everything hinged on her next words.

“What if I want to do something?”

His heart pounded in his chest. “You… want to?”

Despite the blush still coloring her cheeks, she held his gaze and nodded, a shy smile playing on her lips. He struggled not to kiss her right then and there and let his hands explore every inch of her body.

“Tell me what you want, beautiful,” he said instead, keeping his voice quiet and steady. “Anything you want, you can have it.”

She looked down, her gaze landing on the erection he could no longer hide. “I want to help you with that,” she murmured, her hand sliding up to his thigh and squeezing gently.

Azriel sucked in a breath. Unable to stop himself, he shifted, spreading his legs slightly to bring her hand closer to where he wanted it.

“Are you sure?” he asked. He needed her, desperately, but he didn’t want her to feel obligated.

Instead of answering, she stepped off the bed. Her eyes never left his as she moved between his parted legs, her fingers reaching for his shirt. He didn't stop her as she tugged it off, revealing his tanned chest.

“I'm sure, Az,” she whispered, her finger tracing the swirling lines of his tattoos. She'd done it many times before, but now it felt more intimate, more intentional. “Let me do this for you.”

He couldn't hold back any longer. Not when she looked at him with rosy cheeks and eyes full of desire. They both wanted this, and he wasn’t going to turn her down.

Cupping her face in his hands, Azriel pulled her in for a kiss. As their lips met, the bond between them came to life, glowing bright and golden in his chest and filling him with warmth that had nothing to do with the heat of his growing arousal.

“Go on, then,” he murmured against her lips when he finally found the will to break the kiss. “You can do whatever you like.”

She smiled, and under Azriel's attentive gaze, she knelt between his legs. From where he sat, the neckline of her nightgown left little to the imagination. He swallowed, his breath catching as she began unbuttoning his pants. He lifted his hips just enough for her to slide them down his legs, along with his underwear, leaving him bare before her. Her eyes widened slightly as the took him in.

“You weren't lying about it,” she murmured, glancing up at him. “I didn't expect you to be… this big.”

His smirk turned smug. “You certainly know how to flatter a male's ego.”

She chuckled, averting her gaze for only a moment before reaching out. Her hand wrapped around his aching cock, making him gasp audibly. At the sound, a smile of delight appeared on her face, and she began to stroke him slowly, her movements gentle and exploratory.

His eyes locked with hers, and, encouraged by the connection, she grew bolder. Her grip tightened slightly, and he instinctively bucked his hips forward. Still, he held back as much as he could, letting her set the pace she was most comfortable with. But she leaned closer, her eyes searching his for permission, a silent question lingering in them.

Azriel brushed her cheek, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. “Whatever you like,” he repeated in a whisper.

She nodded, and as his hand slipped away, she leaned in, her tongue flicking out to run along his cock before her lips closed around his tip. He sucked in a breath, resisting the urge to push himself deeper into her mouth and holding his body still. The only sign of his impatience was the faint rustle of his wings behind him.

She continued to stroke him slowly, teasing him with gentle squeezes and soft touches, her tongue swirling around his head until precum leaked out. But with each of his sighs and the small, involuntary twitches of his hips, her confidence grew. She took him a few inches deeper, hesitating briefly sliding before her lips farther down his cock, stretching her jaw to fit as much of him as she could.

“Fuck…” he groaned, the word escaping his lips as she hollowed her cheeks. Her mouth was warm, wet and impossibly tight, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to thrust into her. Instead, he tangled his fingers in her hair—not to guide her, but to ground himself, needing the connection, needing to feel her any way he could.

His little outburst seemed to wash away the last traces of her shyness. She began to bob her head, still using her hand to cover what her mouth couldn’t take, her tongue swirling around him with ease. Her eyes stayed locked on his, and Cauldron boil him, Azriel could have come right then.

His mate was on her knees before him, pleasuring him in a way he had never dared to dream of. Over the last week, he'd fantasized about it once or twice, but he’d assumed she wasn’t ready to take that step and relished the simple intimacy of a gentle, teasing touch while cuddling.

But here she was, her boldness lighting a fire inside him.

“Gods, you’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, a moan spilling from his lips.

She blushed again but only moved faster, taking him deeper. His eyes rolled back, and his fingers tightened in her hair. When she whimpered softly, the sound sent a shock of pleasure through him, clouding his mind and driving him closer to the edge. He rocked his hips once, unable to hold back any longer.

“I’m… I’m close, sweetheart,” he panted. He didn’t care if he didn’t last long, didn't care that she’d been working him for only a few minutes. His release coiled tighter in his gut, his breaths coming faster, and he knew he couldn't hold it back. “You should stop if you don’t want me to come in your mouth.”

But the desire in her eyes only burned brighter, and she didn’t stop. Instead, she put even more effort into it, her free hand resting on his thigh while the other one squeezed gently at the base of his cock. When she hollowed her cheeks again, her warm mouth enveloping him so perfectly, Azriel’s control shattered.

With a groan, pleasure crashed over him, his release spilling down her throat. She swallowed every drop, the rhythmic contractions of her mouth around him drawing out his pleasure for a few more moments before he relaxed again, loosening his grip on her hair as he struggled to catch his breath.

After a moment, she pulled back, and Azriel immediately felt the absence of her warmth around him. Her hand slipped away as well, and for a beat, they simply looked at each other, twin smiles of satisfaction on their faces.

“You were wonderful,” he said eventually, helping her stand and guiding her to sit on his lap. “That was incredible.”

Her blush returned, deepening at his praise, an endearing sight he would never grow tired of. It made him want to keep complimenting her, especially after the pleasure she’d just given him.

He kissed her, savoring the softness of her lips and the familiar taste he’d come to cherish over the past week, now mixed with a hint of own release. His tongue slid into her mouth, entwining with hers while his hand drifted down to her thigh, brushing the hem of her nightgown. She didn’t pull away, but Azriel sensed the sudden tension seizing her body, despite her attempt to hide it.

He immediately withdrew his hand, silently cursing himself for assuming too much, especially after being so careful to let her dictate their pace.

Pulling back from the kiss, he searched her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I should have asked.”

She shook her head, but she didn't look at him. “No, it's my fault. When I said I don't have much experience, I… I actually meant I don't have any experience.”

Azriel did his best to mask his surprise, not wanting to make her feel more self-conscious. Gently, he placed his hand on her waist, drawing slow, soothing circles over the fabric of her nightgown.

“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked softly.

Her eyes remained fixed downward as she nervously fidgeted with her fingers. “Because you're five centuries old,” she whispered. “You must have so much experience with these things, and I don't, and I didn't want you to be disappointed if I—”

“Hey,” he interrupted, unwilling to let her continue down that path. Tilting her chin up with a gentle finger, he waited patiently for her to meet his eyes. When she didn't, he murmured, “Can you look at me, sweetheart?”

Slowly, her gaze slid to his. Azriel offered her a soft, reassuring smile, hoping it would ease her worries.

“I don't care if you don't have any experience,” he said, his hand still caressing her side. “I'm not disappointed. All that matters to me is you and whether you're comfortable with whatever we're doing.”

She nodded, though some tension still lingered in her body. He could tell she struggled to believe him, but he wanted to make it clear that he would respect any boundary, any hesitation. She came first, and she always would. Everything else could wait.

“We can take things as slow as you want to,” he continued. “I won't rush you. You're in control, Y/N. Always. Okay?”

At last, he felt her body relax, a relieved smile appearing on her face. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”

“Good.” Azriel smiled back, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Will you let me get up for a moment? I'll wash up quickly, and then we can go to sleep.”

Her smile grew, a hint of playful anticipation gleaming in her eyes. “Can we cuddle?”

He chuckled. “Of course we can cuddle, beautiful.”

As she slid off his lap, he stole one last kiss before getting up and heading to the bathroom. He could feel her eyes following him, and he couldn't help but smirk.

He wanted her, but if she needed more time, he'd give it to her without question, even after what she'd just done for him. After all, her trust and comfort were more important than his need, and he knew that waiting would only make the moment she was truly ready even more special. The wait would be worth it.

Because she was worth it. She was worth everything.

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon

Azriel Week: @fourthwing4ever

[agi-ppangx]

grape soda (lee minho x gn!reader)

it’d been almost two hours since minho left your apartment to supposedly take a walk after you two had an argument. but he hadn’t come back yet.

“minho, stop—” you cried when you noticed him put on his coat and take the keys from the table by the entrance.

“i’m just gonna go for a walk, okay?” minho interrupted you a little bit too harshly. he noticed how your eyes got even more teary at his tone and he sighed, his face softening. “i’ll be back soon, i just need to clear my mind. if we continue this now i’m pretty sure i’ll say something i’ll regret later. i won’t be out for too long, hm? we’ll talk when i come back.” with that he left you, standing with wet cheeks in the middle of your apartment. your eyes wandered nervously around the place and it was only then when you noticed minho forgot his phone from the kitchen counter.

you were sitting in the living room, bouncing your leg nervously as you once again checked the time. it was getting late and your anxiety only grew bigger. you were wondering if minho was okay and if he was even coming back. he got pretty mad at you, but you weren’t even surprised, knowing that you’d hurt him. you felt like you deserved being yelled at and even if it made you sick in your stomach you wouldn’t have been surprised if minho decided to leave you.

around midnight you heard the keys rustling and the door opening. you rushed to greet minho at the entrance, not caring about the argument anymore. your behaviour caught him off guard and he froze when your arms wrapped around his waist, tears spilling from your eyes. you were mumbling something, but his coat muffled every sound you let out.

“yn, what’s- what’s going on?” minho asked softly, bringing his hand to your hair, patting it a few times. you couldn’t stop crying, but you took a step back and sniffed a few times before attempting to speak again.

“i-i thought you left me,” you admitted, wiping your face. minho chuckled at that, amusement painted on his face. he was genuinely taken-aback - why would you even think about something like that?

minho shook his head and only then did you notice that he was holding a bag in his hand. he placed it gently on the floor and took your hand in his.

“i would never leave you, dummy,” he started, bringing his other hand to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “i really needed to cool down so it took me a while, but i’m here now, okay?” you sniffed, nodding weakly. you felt so bad about the whole situation.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered. “are we going to talk now?” you then asked anxiously. you weren’t ready to have that conversation yet, but you knew it was inevitable. minho shook his head again.

“no need for that, it’s okay.” you raised your eyebrows. was he going to let it be? after everything you did?

“but—”

“i’m not mad anymore, yn. i thought that through and it’s okay, i know you didn’t mean it. also-” he let go of your hand to pick up the bag from the floor. “-i got us some instant ramen. you must be starving, love.” you let out a loud sob, hiding your face in the palm of your hands. minho closed the gap between you two and placed a few tiny kisses on your temple.

“don’t worry about it anymore,” he mumbled with a soft smile.

“you’re too good to me, you know?” you chuckled through tears, wiping your cheeks. minho laughed at your words, putting his hand in the bag and taking out a purple can.

“oh, i know. who else would buy you your favourite grape soda after an argument, hm?”

a/n: not proofread at all, wrote it in like 30 minutes i guess...? anyway, please enjoy and remember that feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated🫶🏽

taglist !

@lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @l3visbby

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Hydration 💧

Alexia x Reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗

summary :

You’ve always been a little forgetful when it comes to hydration, and Alexia, being the ever-attentive girlfriend she is, has made it her mission to ensure you drink enough water throughout the day.

It's a warm afternoon, and you’re at work, scrolling through your endless to-do list, completely absorbed in your tasks. Your phone buzzes, pulling you out of your focus for a moment. You smile, already knowing who it is before you even look at the screen.

Hey amor, have you had any water today? ❤️

You roll your eyes playfully but feel a warmth spread through your chest. She always remembers to check up on you, even when she’s in the middle of training.

I’m getting some now, promise. Good luck with training, captain 💪❤️

A few seconds later, another buzz. She’s quick to respond, as always.

Good. And thank you, love ❤️. I’ll check in later.

Later in the day, you’re at the gym, trying to push through the last few minutes on the treadmill. You’re exhausted, sweat dripping down your forehead, and your bottle sits untouched beside you. Almost as if on cue, your phone lights up with another message.

Bebé, don’t forget to drink water during your workout. You need to stay hydrated 🫶

You chuckle to yourself, shaking your head. It’s like she has a sixth sense for this. You pick up the bottle and take a long drink, sending her a quick selfie of you mid-gulp.

Happy now? 😂❤️

A minute later, your phone buzzes again.

Very. Now finish strong 💪, then hydrate some more. Love you ❤️

It’s game night, and you’re at the stadium, surrounded by the loud, energetic crowd. Alexia is on the pitch, focused and intense, but you still get a vibration in your pocket during halftime. You pull out your phone and see her name.

Have you been drinking water, amor ?❤️

You grin, shaking your head in disbelief. Even in the middle of a match, she doesn’t forget.

Yes, yes, I’ve got a bottle right here! Now go focus on winning 🏆❤️

She sends back a quick selfie from the locker room, a playful smirk on her face, hair slightly damp with sweat.

Good. Now scream extra loud when I score❤️

Back home, you’re curled up on the couch, half-asleep when you feel your phone buzz against your leg. It’s late, but you smile when you see it’s from Alexia again.

Made it home, finally. Have you been drinking water before bed?❤️

You roll your eyes fondly and send a voice note this time.

Alexia Putellas, I love you, but if you ask me about water one more time tonight, I’m going to—

Before you can finish, there’s a knock on your door. You scramble to answer, and there she is, standing with a grin, holding a bottle of water.

“I thought I’d make sure in person this time,” she teases, stepping inside and wrapping you in a hug. “Now, drink up.”

You laugh, burying your face in her neck. “I think I’m plenty hydrated now, thank you very much.”

She pulls back to look at you, her eyes twinkling. “Good. Because I plan on keeping you around for a long time, and you’re not allowed to get dehydrated on my watch.”

She presses a quick kiss to your forehead, and you sigh happily, already reaching for the bottle. “Yes, captain.”

[pucksandpower]

Blow Out the Candles

Charles Leclerc x birthday girl!Reader

Summary: the many ways that you and Charles celebrate your birthday throughout the years

Warnings: vague depictions of childbirth and labor

It’s my birthday today so this is my gift to you 🫶

You let out a long sigh as you lean back against the cold concrete wall of the holding cell. This is not exactly how you pictured spending your birthday weekend.

The heavy steel door clangs shut behind you, the sound echoing in the cramped space. Looking around, you take in the sparse furnishings — a bench along one wall, a grimy leaking sink in the corner, and a single window so dirty that it barely lets in any light.

Charming.

You hear voices and footsteps approaching. Keys jangle and the door swings open again. A police officer steps aside and another person stumbles into the cell.

He looks to be about your age or a little older, with messy brown hair and a bewildered expression. The officer mumbles something about “sorting this out shortly” before slamming the door closed once more.

The new arrival blinks in confusion before noticing you sitting on the bench. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” he says with an accent you can’t quite place. French, maybe? He runs a hand through his tousled hair sheepishly.

You give a wry smile. “Don’t worry about it. I take it you’re joining me for the complimentary holding cell experience?”

He chuckles, leaning back against the wall across from you. “Yeah, something like that. I’m Charles.”

“Y/N,” you reply. “Nice to meet you, cellmate.”

Charles grins, and you can’t help but notice how his nose crinkles up when he smiles. It’s kind of adorable. “The pleasure is mine,” he says gallantly, giving a theatrical little bow that makes you laugh.

“So Charles, what terrible crime did you commit to land yourself in this lovely establishment?” You ask with mock seriousness.

He smirks. “Would you believe me if I said jaywalking?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he confirms. “I was trying to get to the bakery before they sold out of croissants. I may have darted across the street … outside of the crosswalk.” He shakes his head ruefully. “The things I do for pastries.”

You have to laugh. “A real menace to society, you are.”

He grins again. “What about you? Don’t tell me you’re in for armed robbery or something.”

“Me? No way,” you scoff. “I was taking the metro downtown and I may have … accidentally used an expired metro card. The transit cops dragged me off at the next stop. I tried to explain it was an honest mistake but they weren’t having it.”

“Ah, a hardened criminal!” Charles exclaims in mock horror, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Clearly. Us lawbreakers need to stick together,” you joke.

You both erupt into laughter, the sound ringing brightly in the dreary holding cell.

As your laughter subsides, Charles regards you curiously. “So do you make a habit of riding the metro with expired cards, Y/N?”

You make a face. “No, I just grabbed the wrong card in my wallet this morning. I was rushing to get downtown and didn’t even think to check.”

“Why were you in such a hurry?”

You hesitate. The real reason seems kind of silly now that you’re stuck in a jail cell. “It’s my birthday today,” you explain with a self-conscious shrug. “I was meeting some friends for brunch downtown to celebrate. Guess I’m going to be late for that.”

“It’s your birthday?” Charles’ eyes widen. “Well, happy birthday!”

You crack a smile. “Thanks.”

“I’m sorry you got stuck in here for your birthday,” he says sympathetically. “That really sucks.”

You give another shrug. “Honestly, this will make for a pretty funny story later. Not exactly how I wanted to spend today, but what can you do?”

Charles nods thoughtfully. A moment later his face lights up. “I know what we can do! Since we’re stuck in this lovely cell, we should have our own little birthday celebration. I can sing for you!”

You raise your eyebrows, surprised but charmed by the offer. “Really? You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s your birthday, of course I do!” He insists.

Clearing his throat theatrically, he launches into an enthusiastic, if not exactly tuneful, rendition of “Happy Birthday.”

His voice echoes off the concrete walls as he gesticulates dramatically, getting really into it by the second verse. You can’t help giggling as he puts his whole heart into hitting the high notes.

By the time he finishes with a flourish, you’re both laughing again.

“That was amazing, thank you,” you tell him, still chuckling.

He gives an exaggerated bow. “My pleasure, birthday girl. Sorry I don’t have a cake to go with the song.”

You grin. “That’s okay. 10 out of 10 performance.”

Charles smiles, looking adorably pleased with himself.

You regard him thoughtfully. “You know, you really didn’t have to do that. Singing for a total stranger in a holding cell.”

He shrugs. “I wanted to. You seemed like you could use a pick-me-up.”

“Well, it worked. I definitely feel better.” You study him for a moment. “You’re pretty strange, Charles.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he laughs.

You shake your head amusedly. You have to admit, you’re really enjoying his company. For someone you just met under bizarre circumstances, he’s remarkably easy to talk to.

Charles checks his watch. “I hope they let us out of here soon. Those croissants are calling my name.”

“And I’ve got mimosas waiting for me,” you add.

As if on cue, footsteps sound outside. You both look up expectantly as keys rattle in the lock.

The door swings open and the officer from before steps in. “Alright you two, come with me. We got it all sorted out, you’re free to go.”

You share a relieved look with Charles as you both follow the officer out. After a quick stop to collect your belongings, you step outside into the sunshine.

Charles turns to you with a smile. “Well, it was very nice to meet you, Y/N. Happy birthday again!”

“Thanks, Charles.” You smile warmly at your strange but lovely cellmate. “This turned out to be a pretty memorable birthday after all.”

He looks pleased. “I’m glad I could help make it special. Enjoy the rest of your day!”

With a little wave he heads off down the street, presumably in search of those croissants. You watch him go, struck by an impulse.

“Charles, wait up!” You call out, jogging to catch up with him.

He turns, looking at you curiously.

“I just wanted to say thanks again for making a crappy situation fun,” you tell him sincerely. “And, if you want, you’re welcome to come join me and my friends for brunch.”

His eyes light up in surprise. “Really?”

You nod. “It’s the least I can do after you serenaded me in jail,” you joke. “Plus, I’m sure the restaurant will have croissants.”

Charles smiles broadly. “Well in that case, I would love to.”

“Great!” You beam, linking your arm through his. “Let’s get out of here.”

***

You sink back into the plush leather seat, gazing out the jet’s window at the twinkling stars dotting the endless expanse of sky. This is definitely a step up from last year’s jail cell birthday celebration.

“Champagne, ma’am?”

You smile up at the flight attendant as she offers you a crystal flute. “Yes please!”

Charles grins at you from across the cabin. “And please keep it coming, my girlfriend deserves to be spoiled on her birthday.”

You still get butterflies every time he calls you his girlfriend. This past year with Charles has been amazing. After that fateful day, he easily slotted himself into your life. What started as an impromptu brunch turned into real dates, which turned into a real relationship. You’ve never clicked with someone so quickly or felt so comfortable so soon.

Now here you are, celebrating your birthday at 11,000 meters aboard a private jet chartered from one of Ferrari’s sponsors. You had balked at the extravagance at first, but Charles insisted. “It’s your special day, we have to do something incredible!”

You take a sip of crisp champagne, the bubbles tickling your nose. “So where exactly are we headed?”

Charles has kept your destination a surprise. “You’ll see soon, birthday girl,” he says with a wink.

You pretend to pout. “Fine, keep your secrets.”

He just laughs. “Trust me, it’s going to be an amazing trip.”

You don’t doubt it. Charles has a knack for making every day feel special and fun. Even just being cooped up in this plane with him feels like an adventure.

As the flight continues, you enjoy a decadent five course dinner complete with even more champagne and chocolate-dipped strawberries. Charles keeps you laughing with silly stories and jokes. By the time you finish eating you have to stifle a yawn behind your hand.

“Someone’s getting sleepy,” Charles teases.

“It’s been a long exciting day!” You say through another yawn.

Charles grins and hits the call button. A flight attendant appears instantly. “Yes sir?”

“I think it’s time to get the birthday girl to bed,” Charles says.

The attendant nods and pulls back a partition, revealing a plush bedroom suite.

Your eyes widen in delighted surprise. “Wha … we can sleep in an actual bed on the plane?”

“Only the best for you,” Charles says, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You happily snuggle under the covers in the sumptuous bed, sighing contentedly. “Okay, this is an amazing birthday present.”

Charles chuckles, sliding in beside you and pulling you close. “The fun is only beginning, mon cœur.”

Within minutes you’re sound asleep curled up in his arms.

Sometime later you stir slowly awake, momentarily confused. The bedroom is dark and Charles is shaking your shoulder gently.

“Wake up, chérie. It’s almost midnight!” He says excitedly.

You rub your eyes and peer blearily at the clock. 11:58 pm. “Why, what happens at midnight?”

“Your birthday starts again!”

You look at him blankly, still not fully awake.

He grins. “We just crossed into a new time zone. Which means ...” He pauses for dramatic effect. “I get to be the first to wish you happy birthday again!”

As it clicks you start laughing. Only Charles would come up with something so adorable. You watch the clock count down the last seconds to midnight as he bounces giddily on the bed.

“Happy birthday!” Charles exclaims right on cue, tackling you in a hug.

You hug him back, still laughing. “You’re crazy, but thank you.”

He beams down at you. “I have so much planned, it’s going to take more than one time zone to celebrate properly.”

Over the next few hours, you dip in and out of sleep as Charles wakes you at each new midnight. Every time he sings and wishes you happy birthday again with infectious enthusiasm. By the fifth round you’re both delirious and silly from lack of sleep, belting out drunk duets of “Happy Birthday” and collapsing into giggles.

Finally he lets you sleep through until morning. When you emerge from the bedroom, blinking in the bright daylight, you gasp. Out the window is an ocean of clouds and in the distance, a tiny island just coming into view.

You turn to Charles with wide eyes. “Are we … is that ...”

He grins and wraps his arms around you. “Welcome to St. Barts! I wanted your birthday to be paradise.”

“Every day with you is paradise.” You kiss him soundly. “Thank you, this is the most magical birthday I could’ve imagined.”

Charles trails his fingers over your cheek. “You deserve magic every single day. I’m just doing my part to make sure you get it.”

***

You stir awake to soft kisses trailing down your neck. Opening your eyes, you find Charles gazing down at you, his brown hair endearingly rumpled.

“Happy birthday, mon ange,” he whispers before capturing your lips in a sweet kiss.

You hum contentedly, running your fingers through his messy locks. “Mmm, now this is a nice way to wake up.”

Charles gives you his signature crinkly-nosed grin. “I have so much planned for your special day.”

Your heart flutters happily. After two amazing years with Charles, the connection between the two of you feels more intense than ever. You can’t wait to celebrate.

But his smile turns apologetic. “Well, so much planned for after the car launch.”

You nod in understanding. Charles has commitments. And today the new Scuderia Ferrari car is being unveiled in a highly anticipated event.

Charles kisses your pouting lip. “I’m so sorry, ma belle. I wish I could get out of it but-”

“Shh, it’s okay,” you assure him, silencing his worries with a kiss. “I know how important the launch is for the team. I’ll just miss you today.”

“I’ll miss you too. But I promise, as soon as it’s over I’m all yours.”

You spend a blissful morning lazing in bed, laughing over crepes Charles attempts to make for your birthday breakfast. Flour ends up more on him than in the pan, but you happily eat the lumpy results.

Too soon it’s time for Charles to leave for the launch. At the door he pulls you into his arms. “I love you. This evening will be perfect, I swear.”

You smile up at him. “Love you too. Go show off that new car.”

After one more lingering kiss he’s off. You distract yourself by meeting local friends for birthday lunch. But your mind keeps drifting to Charles. You hope the event is going well for him.

By mid afternoon you’re back in Charles’ Maranello apartment, curled up on the couch watching silly movies. You’ve just bitten into a slice of birthday cake when your phone rings.

It’s Charles FaceTiming you, his handsome face filling the screen. “Hi, mon amour!”

You grin at your adorable fiancé. “Hey you! How’s the launch going?”

“It’s good!” His eyes drop to your plate. “Are you eating cake without me?” He gasps in mock outrage.

You giggle. “Only a tiny cheat slice. Don’t worry, there’s plenty left for when you’re home.”

Voices sound faintly behind Charles and he glances over his shoulder. “Ah, the program is starting again soon. I just wanted to see your beautiful face.”

You blow him a kiss. “Knock ‘em dead, baby.”

“I love you!” He says before the call ends.

Snuggling back into the couch, you focus on the movie again. But a notification keeps pinging on your phone. You glance over to see texts flooding in from Charles.

Can you watch the livestream?

The link is all over social media

It’s starting again soon 😘

You go on Instagram and click the link curiously. The livestream shows an auditorium packed with press, Ferrari team members, fans, and VIPs. Cameras flash as Charles takes the stage along with his teammate and team principal. They talk about the new car but you mostly just stare lovingly at Charles’ dimples on the big screen.

After the speeches, they unveil the sleek new car. Your heart swells with pride for Charles. But you can’t wait for all the events and obligations to be over. You miss him.

The hosts invite Charles to say a few words. He steps up to the microphone, smiling. “Thank you all for being here today. I’m so excited to get behind the wheel of this beautiful SF-26 ...”

He continues talking passionately about the team and the season ahead. But then his eyes flick to the camera broadcasting the feed. “Oh, I also have a very special announcement.”

You sit up, intrigued. Charles winks at the camera. “As some of you may know, today is my wonderful girlfriend Y/N’s birthday.”

Your eyes widen. You have no idea what he’s doing but it makes your heart flutter.

“So to celebrate this amazing woman, I thought we could all join together to wish her a very happy birthday.”

Charles starts singing “Happy Birthday,” looking straight at the camera with so much love. The crowd joins in, the whole auditorium singing to you. You stare in overwhelmed wonder as Charles blows you a kiss.

When the song ends, the audience claps wildly. Charles grins. “I hope you enjoyed your serenade, mon cœur. I can’t wait to celebrate you properly tonight. Happy birthday, I love you!”

The livestream switches off and you sit staring at your phone in shock. Trust Charles to orchestrate something so thoughtful and adorable. Only he could turn a huge unrelated event into a birthday present.

A few hours later, the front door finally bursts open. Charles rushes in and sweeps you into his arms.

“Surprise!” He laughs, spinning you in a circle.

You hug him tightly. “Charles, that was the sweetest thing ever!”

He beams. “I wanted you to feel special today even though I couldn’t be with you. Did you like it?”

“Like it? I loved it!” You punctuate each word with a smacking kiss.

Charles looks immensely pleased. “Good, because the celebrations are just beginning. Now, I believe I was promised cake?”

You spend the evening feeding each other cake and laughing over champagne. Charles serenades you again, because one impromptu singalong just wasn’t enough for him.

As you sway together, slow dancing in the kitchen, you whisper, “Best birthday ever.”

Charles smiles and pulls you closer. “We’ll make every birthday together your best one yet. I love you, Y/N. So much.”

Your heart swells with joy. No matter where life takes you both, with Charles every birthday is celebrated to the fullest.

***

A salty ocean breeze ruffles your hair as you gaze out over the glittering turquoise water. The sun is sinking low, painting the sky in dazzling pinks and oranges.

You sigh contentedly, snuggling back against Charles’ chest. His arms tighten around you as you sway together on the yacht’s deck.

“Happy birthday, mon ange,” he murmurs, dropping a kiss to your shoulder.

You tilt your head back to smile up at him. “I know I say this every year, but this is the best birthday ever.”

Charles grins, his nose crinkling adorably. “Well you deserve the perfect birthday getaway.”

You hum in agreement, perfectly relaxed and blissful here in his arms. Charles always plans the most romantic adventures for your birthdays. But after three amazing years together, just being with your favorite person is celebration enough.

As the sun continues to set you chat and trade soft kisses. The conversation lulls eventually into comfortable silence.

Charles shifts behind you. “Y/N, can you turn around? There’s something I want to ask you.”

You swivel in his arms to face him, curious at his suddenly serious tone. But a radiant smile lights up his face.

Slowly, Charles sinks down to one knee before you. Your breath catches as he takes your hands in his.

“Mon amour, these past three years with you have been the happiest of my life. You are my best friend, my heart, my home. I want to laugh with you, explore the world with you, and grow old with you.” His eyes shine with emotion as he gazes up at you.

“So Y/N, will you make me the luckiest man alive by marrying me?”

Joyful tears fill your eyes. “Yes! Of course I’ll marry you!”

Charles’ face splits into the most delighted grin. He moves to stand but wobbles slightly, the boat swaying beneath the two of you.

You reach out to steady him. “Careful!”

“Sorry, just excited,” he laughs breathlessly. With exaggerated care he pulls a ring box from his pocket and opens it to reveal a dazzling diamond ring.

Your smile widens impossibly further. The sunset lights the gems ablaze from within.

Charles takes your left hand gingerly, his own hands trembling. “I hope you lik-”

But his unsteady fingers fumble and the ring slips from his grasp. You both gasp, hands shooting out too late to catch it. The diamonds glint once in the dying sunlight before plopping into the blue water.

“No!” Charles cries in horror. In a flash he’s scrambling to rip off his shoes and shirt. Before you can react, he’s diving in after the lost ring.

“Charles!” You rush to the railing, scanning the rippling surface for him. Bubbles appear where he dove down. The seconds stretch nerve-wrackingly until finally he surfaces, gasping for breath. In his clutched fist, the ring gleams triumphantly.

Relief crashes over you as Charles swims to the ladder. He clambers back aboard the boat, soaked and panting but grinning ear to ear.

“I got it!” He crows, holding up the retrieved ring.

A delighted laugh bursts from you. Only Charles would dive headfirst off a yacht to save an engagement ring. You throw your arms around his dripping shoulders, not caring that you’re getting drenched too.

“My hero,” you kiss him soundly.

Charles wraps you in a soggy hug. “Couldn’t let this ring get away when I still have a very important question to ask you … again.”

He sinks down once more to his knee, water pooling around him. With his hair plastered to his forehead and clothes soaked through, he looks adorably bedraggled but still so breathtakingly handsome.

Grasping your hand again, he asks earnestly, “Y/N, will you marry me and make me the happiest man in the world?”

“Yes!” You don’t think you’ve ever smiled so wide. “Yes, Charles, yes!”

Charles whoops triumphantly, surging up to kiss you passionately. This time his hands are steady as he finally successfully slips the ring onto your finger.

Admiring the shimmering diamonds you joke, “This ring might need a free cleaning after that swim.”

Charles laughs, pulling you close again. “I’ll get you a new one if you want. Anything for my future wife.”

Wife.

The word sends a thrill through you. You cup Charles’ face in your hands. “This is the only ring I’ll ever want. Because it’s from you.”

His eyes soften. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You lean in for another searing kiss as the last light fades behind the horizon.

When you finally draw back Charles wrinkles his nose. “As romantic as this is, I should probably get into some dry clothes.”

You laugh, plucking at his soaked shirt. “Good call. Then we can continue this celebration in proper style!”

Charles grins and sweeps you up into his arms. “I like the way you think, Future Madame Leclerc.”

***

“One more push, you’re almost there!”

You squeeze Charles’ hand with all your might, face scrunched in exertion, as you bear down to bring your baby into the world.

This is not exactly how you envisioned spending your birthday this year. But as you give one final push and hear your daughter’s first cries, you know this is already the best birthday of your life.

“She’s here! You did amazing, mon amour!” Charles says through joyful tears, kissing your sweat-damp forehead.

The doctor holds up the squalling, wriggling newborn. “Congratulations, it’s a girl!”

Charles cuts the umbilical cord with shaky hands before the nurses whisk your daughter away to be cleaned and checked. He turns back to you, eyes shining. “I’m so proud of you, Y/N. She’s perfect.”

You beam tiredly back at him. The child you created together, your little family, is finally here. After long months of waiting, your birthday wish has come true.

Soon the nurse returns, swaddling your baby girl in a soft pink blanket. “Say hello to your daughter,” she says gently, placing the tiny bundle in your arms.

You gaze down at your daughter, tears of joy and wonder sliding down your cheeks. Ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes — she’s absolute perfection.

“Hello Juliette,” you whisper. “Happy birthday, my beautiful girl.”

Charles perches gingerly on the edge of the bed, staring at you both like you hung the moon and stars. He reaches out a tentative finger to stroke Juliette’s downy head.

“She’s so small,” he marvels. “And so perfect. I can’t believe we made this little human.”

His voice cracks on the last word. Your tough Formula 1 driver melts into a puddle of emotion in the presence of his daughter.

You glance up at Charles, your husband, your soulmate, and now the father of your child. The utter love and joy shining from his eyes in this moment eclipses every birthday and every milestone you’ve shared before.

“I used to think so many birthdays were the best day of my life,” you say softly. “But now … this is it. The real best day.”

Charles smiles through his tears and leans in to kiss you tenderly. “This is just the start of so many best days together.”

You both gaze back down at the baby nestled between you. Juliette blinks up at you tiredly and the sight of her green eyes looking back at you takes your breath away.

Charles lets out an awed little laugh. “She has my eyes.”

He holds out a hand and Juliette instinctively grasps his finger. Charles completely melts.

“Hello, ma petite princesse,” he coos. “I’m your papa. And I’m going to love you forever.”

Juliette seems to study his face intently before giving a big yawn that makes you both chuckle. Your heart feels fit to burst watching Charles bond instantly with your daughter.

The next hours pass in a blissful blur of feeding, diaper changes, and stealing each moment possible to just gaze at the miracle you’ve created. You almost forget it’s even your birthday until Charles speaks up.

“You know, I had something else planned to celebrate today but Juliette decided she simply couldn’t wait,” he laughs.

You just smile. “This is the greatest gift I could have asked for.”

He leans down to brush a feather-light kiss to Juliette’s forehead, then yours.

“I guess we’ll just have to plan an extra special party when you’re both home,” he says with a smile. “Our little princess deserves the biggest birthday bash for entering the world on such a special day.”

You grin up at him. “I have a feeling her daddy will go all out.”

“Only the best for my girls.” Charles winks.

Juliette stirs in your arms, letting out the tiniest of baby sighs that melts you both instantly.

As Juliette drifts to sleep cradled between you, her little fingers curled around yours, you know this birthday marks the start of your greatest adventure yet and many more amazing birthdays still to come.

[norrisainz33]

European getaway || cs55

☆ summary: y/n goes on a vacation to spain and ends up meeting carlos sainz by chance. tho she has no idea her european fling is actually a very successful f1 driver

☆ pairing: carlos sainz x nonfamous!reader

☆ fc & warnings: none

☆ requested: yes! thank you sm for this wonderful request

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynuser has made a post 🔒

liked by yourbff, yoursibling, friend2, friend 3 and 101 others

ynuser: i could get used to this! me encanta espana

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yourbff: petition for us to stay in spain forever

ynuser: time to find our spanish husbands so we never have to leave!

yoursibling: europe looks good on u

ynuser: thanks b 💅🏻

friend3: always serving fits girl

ynuser: half of my clothes are stolen from you

friend2: obsessed with you

ynuser: obsessed with you bb

ynuser has added to their story 🔒

[1. girls night out ahead. 2. guys i met a hot man at this club. 3. hehe he’s taking me home. we stayed out so late it’s almost light again]

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yourbff: we look cute

yourbff: wait he’s hotter than i originally thought hold up 🤤🤤

yourbff: did you even get his name???? how am i supposed to make sure ur safe if i don’t know his name

ynuser: dude he’s so hot it’s insane and his name is carlos

ynuser: i’m with him at his hotel rn and this man has to be loaded this is the nicest hotel i’ve ever stepped foot in.

yourbff: hot AND rich AND sweet AND a gentleman???????? what is in the water here in spain

ynuser: i just googled his watch that he’s wearing and it’s $300k

yourbff: ok tea……y/n/n i’m so serious you are living every girls dream rn including mine

ynuser: i think i love him

yourbff: ok , maybe it’s time for you to come back to the hotel and get some sleep

ynuser: ugh you’re so right.

ynuser: he called me a driver , i’ll be back soon

yourbff: PLEASE TELL ME TOU GOT HIS NUMBER

ynuser: more than that 🤭 him and his friend are going to take us out for dinner tomorrow and show us around town 😫😍🫶🏻

yourbff: OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG

yoursibling: girl you wildin and i love it. stay safe pls

ynuser: yes of course bb

friend3: why that man kinda look familiar

ynuser: if u figure it out lmk

ynuser has added to their story 🔒

[1. sightseeing courtesy of our new friend carlos. 3. looks like we found ourselves some dates 😉]

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friend2: y/n are you sharing churros con chocolate with a MAN

ynuser: YES

ynuser: i’ve been caught

friend2: you sneak.. i need every single detail

yourbff: i feel like we are in a movie for real

ynuser: i think we might be

yoursibling: how is it that you and y/bff/n always end up in these sorts of romance novel type situations

ynuser: it’s bc we are the it girls 💅🏻

carlossainz55 had added to his story

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user1: what are you doing in madrid carlos

user2: OMG WHO IS THAT IN THE SECOND SLIDE CARLOSSSSS

landonorris: and what do we have here 👀

carlossainz55: just some travels in spain!

landonorris: with a girl??

carlossainz55: good catch 😉

landonorris: DETAILS?!

carlossainz55: if you must know and you promise to keep it secret

landonorris: of course mate

carlossainz55: i met this gorgeous girl in a club in barcelona and we hit it off. she doesn’t know im a driver she just thinks im a guy on holiday and its been rather refreshing so now im showing her around spain

landonorris: i support you in this brother but you know you’re gonna have to explain the whole famous thing at some point

carlossainz55: i know i know

user3: just fell to my knees is this a soft launch

charlesleclerc: enjoying break i see 😏

carlossainz55: yes i am 😏

user4: everyone stay calm!!!! stay CALM

user5: so little info here how am i supposed to find this girl by her shoes 🫣

user6: can’t wait till f1gossip sees this

ynuser has added to their story 🔒

view all story replies

yoursibling: hold up did HE COME WITJ YOU GUYS

ynuser: yes 🤭

ynuser: when i tell you i think i met the love of my life

yoursibling: ugh i’m so jealous but also so happy for you!! you deserve this

friend2: bruh he’s fine as heck what is going on here

ynuser: no i know

yourbff: wait send me the pic of carlos and teto carrying our luggage pls im begging

ynuser: done and done

friend3: y/n y/m/n y/l/n have you ever seen a formula 1 race before

ynuser: you mean like the race cars?

friend3: yes the race cars!!!! i’m 99.9% sure that man in your photos drives for the FERRARI F1 TEAM. THAT IS THE CARLOS SAINZ

ynuser: oh my god… you’re right …….. he’s a FAMOUS FERRARI DRIVER?!

ynuser: oh my god he has 10 million followers

friend3: how did you NOT know this!!!!!!!!

ynuser: idk!!! i don’t follow f1!!!

friend3: well now you legally have to

ynuser: clearly omg

friend3: YOURE THE GIRL IN HIS STORY OFNEKGN

ynuser: OMG I AM

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, and 4,255 others

f1gossip: carlos sainz has been spotted getting cozy with a mystery girl in madrid! we think this has got to be the girl who was in the story carlos posted a few days ago. they’ve also been spotted out at dinner with another woman and who we believe to be teto!! no information on who they are just yet but seem by all accounts to not be anyone we know

view all 213 comments

user1: when will it be my turn!!!!

user2: that should be me 😭😭😭 happy for her i guess 😭😭😫😫

user3: so he was soft launching someone

user4: happy for him ig

friend3: ynuser girl

ynuser: oh my god

friend2: girl oh my god

yourbff: omg stop ???? is this movie about us???

user6: do you all know something we don’t

user3: no bc your profile pics kinda be similar to the girl in the pics f1 gossip posted 👀

user6: carlos doesn’t follow them yet but maybe that’ll change

user3: WAIT IT SAYS HES FOLLOWING YNUSER NOW

user5: i am so envious

ynuser has added to their story 🔒

view all story replies

friend3: ok so the fan girls have found us it seems

ynuser: they really have… i have 2,694 follower requests right now

yourbff: the f1gossip account is trying to contact me,, they’re literally in my dms rn…. you look hot tho 😘😍😫

ynuser: they’re also trying to message me too. never thought our trip to spain would end up like this (i’m not complaining this is just a little overwhelming)

yourbff: me neither but if it had to happen i’m glad you met carlos!! you two seem like genuinely really well matched. i know it’s only been like…. 3 weeks but im stanning and shipping y/ncarlos so hard

ynuser: 😮‍💨😭 y/ncarlos omg stop hahaha

ynuser: i’m planning to put him in my pocket and take him back to the states with us

carlossainz55: ay dios mío hermosa chica 😍😍

ynuser: 🤭 you’re making me blush

carlossainz55: good, it’s cute when you blush

ynuser: you really have 10 million followers and drive for the scuderia ferrari huh

carlossainz55: yes mi amor. im sorry for not telling you sooner… i just really was enjoying getting to know you as just carlos and not as the ferrari driver

ynuser: and that makes sense i just … this is all just a bit intimidating

carlossainz55: no reason to be intimidated, i’m still just carlos 🥺

ynuser: if you say so

carlossainz55: i do say so hermosa🤍

carlossainz55: now that the cat is out of the bag…. do you want to come watch me race?

ynuser: you want me to come to one of your races?

carlossainz55: only if you want to! no pressure at all tho y/n/n

ynuser: i’d love to 😫

carlossainz55: i was hoping you’d say that. i’ll make arrangements for you to come to monza 😉

ynuser: italy?! omg i’ve never been to italy!!!!

carlossainz55: never?! oh boy then i have quite the time planned for us

landonorris: i feel like an elite member of a very exclusive club for being able to follow

ynuser: you are!! only 231 other people have the privilege

friend2: please send lando norris my number i see he’s following you now

ynuser: HAHAHAAH i respect the hustle. i tell him about you when i meet him in person in 2 weeks

friend2: IN PWROSN Y/N WHAT

yoursibling: bestie why are race car fan accounts trying to contact me all the sudden

ynuser: so you know that man i’ve been seeing while in spain with y/bff/n? turns out he’s a very famous formula 1 driver

yoursibling: you’ve got to be kidding me

ynuser: i am being very for real

ynuser has made a post 🔒

liked by carlossainz55, yourbff, yoursibling, friend2, landonorris, friend3, and 102 others

ynuser: thank you to spain for literally changing my life

view all 22 comments

friend2: omg that’s where my sunglasses went 🙄

ynuser: idk what you’re talking abt 🤭

yourbff: thanks for going on the trip of a lifetime with me y/n/n

ynuser: i love you bestie 🫶🏻

carlossainz55: and thank you to the universe for crossing our paths 🥹

ynuser: thank you universe, i am forever grateful 😫

landonorris: ok cool girl alert

ynuser: you know it

friend3: i’m not sure how to act normal in these comments y/n

ynuser: me neither

yoursibling: you’re never coming home after italy in a few weeks are you

ynuser: nope!

carlossainz55 has made a post

liked by user1, charlesleclerc, scuderiaferrari, ynuser, yourbff, landonorris, yoursibling, and 783,102 others

carlossainz55: happy for the team, charles and the tifosi. it’s a shame i missed the podium but at least i got to spend my birthday with my favorite girl. until next time monza!

view all 999 comments

user2: ohhhhhh a hard launch

user3: i wish he got a podium in his last monza in a ferrari

charlesleclerc: ❤️ thank you chili

alexandrasaintmleux: cuties 🤍

user4: this hard launch is distracting me from the immense sadness, thanks carlos

user55: she’s living my dream your honor

ynuser: feliz cumpleaños mi amor

carlossainz55: gracias princessa

ynuser: gracias por una semana perfecta [thank you for a perfect week]

carlossainz55: de nada 🤍

user10: you did all you could carlos

scuderiaferrari: we are proud of you chili

user16: you and your big brain still did amazing

yourbff: you did great carlos!

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: likes and reblogs appreciated!! i quite liked this one and hope you did too

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[vicsnook]

Out of Oklahoma | Tyler Owens x Reader

word count: 3326

warnings: Tornadoes, Loss, Implied smut

notes: Hey y’all 🤠 I am back with some more content! When I tell y’all I was sat at that theater. Even my boyfriend was thirsting over Glen (specifically in the rain scene, iykyk). Anyways, hope y’all enjoy this one and please don’t forget to like and reblog 🫶🏼.

I crawl out of the hotel bed at 5, hitting the snooze button on the way to the bathroom. My reflection looks back at me less than thrilled for what’s to come today.

Apparently the world hates me because there is no coffee to brew when I check the kitchenette, so now my day’s gone from bad to worse. I check my phone and sure enough I have a million messages from my dumba-sweet brother Boone about how he can’t wait for me to meet his friends.

I'm not ready for that. But nevertheless I carry on and make my way to the airport to board a flight to take me home, to Oklahoma. It’s fine, I think to myself. It’s all going to be okay. But I know it’s a lie. Still I get on the plane and pretend I’m going somewhere tropical instead of the one place I swore I wouldn’t return to.

The wheels touch down roughly on the strip, startling me awake. Here goes nothing. The airport is packed but thankfully all I have is my carry on which holds what little I left to California with six months ago. So much for making a life for myself.

The old Ram is parked just outside the doors and I know I can’t put this off any longer. After what happened last year, I want to turn around and get the hell out of dodge but I can’t avoid him forever. Not when my family needs me, well what’s left of it. “Well, well, well, look at what the cat drug in.”

I sigh and look up, locking eyes with the one person I didn’t want to see ever again. Tyler Owens. My ex-fiancée.

“Tyler. Nice to see you didn’t get blown away by a Tornado,” I force out with the fakest smile I can muster. God knows I’d love to wipe that stupid smirk off his face, amongst other things, I shake my head dismissing the stupid thought.

“Y/N, good to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor. That all your luggage?” he asks, grabbing my carry on from me and placing it in the bed of the truck before I can even answer. “Yep,” I mumble, getting into the truck.

“So, where’s Boone?” I ask, trying to ease the tension.

Tyler glances over at me and I feel my stomach do a stupid flip. Stop it!

“He’s at your Nana’s house dealing with some of the insurance people. I’m really sorry about what happened, Y/N.” he says. “We tried to warn them.”

“I know,” I say. “It’s not your fault, Tyler. You didn’t know it would turn and hit them directly.” I start to reach for his arm to comfort him but pull it back, the gesture feeling inappropriate after all that happened between us.

He nods and continues to drive on. Him and Boone blame themselves but I know there’s nothing they could’ve done. I just wish they’d see it that way.

-

The ruins of the home we grew up in come into view and my heart shatters all over again. The anger bubbling in my stomach as I see all the tornado took from us. Why!? Why us!? I want to scream at the sky as I walk up to my brother who I can tell is barely holding it together.

“Hey Boonie,” I whisper, hugging his back. His breathing shakes as he turns and pulls me into a hug, nearly suffocating me. “I tried sissy, I really did but they’re gone.” he says, “I was too late.”

I hold him as he finally breaks down and I try whispering reassurances in his ear but I know he’s not listening. My eyes make contact with Tyler’s as he heads towards the rubble and begins to sort things out.

“It’s not your fault, Boonie.” I say, holding his face so he looks at me. “There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

He nods quietly, pulling me in for another hug as the guilt consumes me for having left him behind. I should’ve never gone to California.

-

I follow Tyler to the entrance of the dingy motel on the edge of town, still holding on to Boone’s hand. “Thank you for coming, Y/N.” Boone says, handing me the key to my room. “Always,” I respond. Squeezing his hand one last time as he turns to go to his room.

“Where’s the rest of your crew? I haven’t seen them.” I ask Tyler as we head up the stairs since our rooms are on the second floor. “They’re helping some people downtown that got hit too. They asked me to give you their condolences.” He answers, stopping in front of my door.

“Um, thanks and thank you for all you’ve been doing for Boone. I hate that I couldn’t get here sooner.” I say. “California wasn’t all I thought it’d be.”

“Tried to tell ya.”

“I know. I'm sorry, Tyler.”

He moves a step forward and drops his mouth beside my ear, the distance between us almost non-existent. “Nothing to be sorry about, darling.” He drawls, pulling back, then turning around and walking into his room, leaving me in the hallway.

This man will be the death of me.

-

The weeks go by slowly as we deal with the insurance but somewhere along the way we finally get Nana’s ashes back. Boone and I take them out to the river, spreading them at the one place she loved most.

“So how are things between Kate and Tyler?” I ask Boone as we head back to the motel from the pizza parlor.

My stomach clenches, waiting for his answer.

He looks at me and grins. “Why you want to know Sissy? Any interest in getting back in that saddle?”

“Ew! No! I was just curious, Boone.” I say, glaring at him while he laughs.

“They never really were anything serious. She ran off to New York City the second she got her research. Oklahoma held too many painful memories for her or something.”

I nod. Pulling into the motel parking lot that we now call home. That is until the money from the insurance comes through and we can get to rebuilding Nana’s place.

“There’s the man of the hour.” Says Boone pointing at Tyler who’s getting out of his truck. The white shirt clinging to his chiseled chest because of the rain.

He really does look good in a cowboy hat. I think, quickly shaking my head trying to erase the thought. “Close your mouth Sissy, you’re gonna get drool all over yourself.” Boone teases and I playfully smack him, tearing my eyes off Tyler.

“You know Sissy, I don’t get it.”

“Get what?” I ask, turning off the ignition.

“How y’all girls run away from that man. I mean I ain’t blind and I may be biased because he’s my best friend but his personality doesn’t suck either.” I sigh, knowing he’s not wrong.

“It’s complicated.” I finally say, and get out of the car. Heading for my room before Boone can add anything else.

-

“Where are we going?” I ask again for the millionth time. Letting Tyler and Boone blindfold me was starting to seem like a mistake the longer we were in the truck.

It also didn’t help that Tyler was playing the cd I burned for him back in high school.

“Almost there, Sissy.” Boone assures me, as the truck left the paved road and headed down a dirt road. Please Lord don’t let this be another one of Boone’s pranks.

Tyler helps me out the truck and leads me down a rocky path. My nerves increasing by the second and wondering where my brother had ran off to.

“Tada!” yells Boone, the bandana falling off my eyes as Tyler pulls off the knot.

“I know it ain't much Sissy but I couldn’t let you keep living in that Motel much longer.” Boone says, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the tiny home that now sits behind where Nana’s new house will be. “So, you hate it?”

“No! Thank you so much!” I yell, pulling him into a hug. “You really didn’t have to do this Boonie.” Tears stream down my face as my brother squeezes me. Thank you God for such a good brother.

“I can’t take all the credit, it was Tyler’s idea after all.” Boone whispers to me. I nod, pulling away and wiping the tears off my cheeks.

Lord knows if things were different I’d be running to Tyler and giving him a big ol’ kiss right now. But they aren’t. I remind myself so I settled for just saying “Thank you, Ty.”

“Not a problem.” He says, turning to follow my brother to my now little home.

-

“Please work, come on!” I yell at the shower. My little home was nothing but perfect, well except for the water which always seemed to go out at the most inconvenient times.

I try calling Boone but I’m greeted by his voicemail which only leaves one other person to call. Sighing I pull up his contact and dial. Ignoring the contact picture that I never bothered to change.

“Hello?”

“Hey, um sorry to bother but I can’t reach Boone and my water went out again while I was washing my hair,” I say, already regretting calling him.

“I’ll be there in a minute.” He replies, hanging up before I can say anything else. I pull on a bathrobe and tidy up before he gets here. I wince when I see my hair in the mirror, suds still in it but oh well. Tyler’s seen me how the lord made me so I doubt a little bit of suds will make me ugly.

I’m pulled out of my thoughts by his knocking and I think as I open the door that maybe I should’ve thrown some clothes on. “Hey,” I say, stepping aside as he makes his way to the water heater closet to check there first.

The minutes pass and the silence is eating me alive. The temptation to say that I was wrong for ending things the way I did consumes me. So much so that I don’t realize he’s talking to me until he comes to stand in front of me.

“Earth to Y/N? It’s fixed. You shouldn’t have any more issues.”

“Thanks Ty. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.” I reply, his eyes meeting mine.

“Live your life without fear of me dying everyday because of what I do,” he says, it's clear to me then that the wound is still very much open.

He starts to head for the door but I’m quick to get up and grab his arm, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Ty, I’m sorry. I was wrong, okay? All I did was trade tornadoes for earthquakes. Happiness for misery. I was wrong and I shouldn’t have left the way I did.” I say, my eyes searching for his.

“You left me, Y/N. You packed your bags and left without saying a word, leaving all of us behind. So, no, sorry doesn’t cut it here. I’m sorry about your Nana but you made your mistakes. Live with them.” He replies, the anger in his eyes sending chills down my spine. I swallow the lump in my throat long enough for him to walk out and slam the door on his way out. What the fuck did I do and how can I even fix it?

-

** 6 months later **

Nana’s house is finished. It looks similar to the one the tornado tore from the ground but me and Boone know it couldn’t be more different.

We bring in what we could salvage slowly and try to make it look as closely as possible to the original one. Lastly, placing a picture of Nana, Boone, and I, that Lily recovered from the wreckage on the mantel.

“Close enough,” Boone whispers, sitting on the couches that Dani and Dexter got us.

“Yeah, I just wish she was still here.” I reply, sitting across from him. “You going chasing again today?”

“Yeah, but I promise we’re being safe sissy. We don’t do that driving into tornadoes and shooting off fireworks anymore after Nana,” He answers, sadness filling his features.

“Just be safe,” I mutter, taking a seat next to him and letting him pull me into a hug. “Always.”

“For what it’s worth, he’s not really mad at you. He’s mad at himself for not realizing sooner how far gone you were until it was too late.”

A sigh escapes me as he gets up, giving me a faint smile before walking out the door. Off to chase the very thing that took the last bit of family we had.

-

The rain came in buckets. All day it’d been so pretty but as soon as I stepped outside the grocery store, I saw how much the sky had changed. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as lightning struck.

Rushing to my car, I threw the groceries in the back seat but before I could throw the car in reverse I heard it.

The tornado sirens.

I threw open the car door and started sprinting back into the grocery store but a cry for help stopped me before I could make it in. Lord please protect them. I prayed quickly.

Debris was already flying all around me when I turned to look for the source of the pleas and then I spotted her. A girl who looked no more than 15 was on the ground in the parking lot, her leg in a cast and her crutches nowhere to be seen. “Please help me!”

I ran towards her. My body going into overdrive as the wind threatened to push me over too. “Please don’t let me die,” she begged as I threw her arm around me and hurried back for the door.

The wind picked up even more and the rain turned into hail as I trekked through the lot trying to make it back inside. The short distance seemed infinite.

I felt it before I could even turn. It was there. The loud roar filled my ears as I pulled the girl in front of me and with the last of my strength I had, I pushed her to where the door was.

Then my feet left the ground as the tornado sucked me in and I felt the world go black.

-

“Bo-one?” I rasp, my throat on fire and my entire body feeling like it’d been run over. The events leading up to this moment slowly coming back to me as I struggle to open my eyes.

“Hey, he’s just outside talking to the doctor, let me get him,” replies Tyler softly. My eyes adjust to the harsh hospital lights as he steps out the door and taps Boone on the shoulder.

My head pounds as I take in my surroundings. Scratches cover up both my arms. If I looked into a mirror right now I’d probably collapse.

“Sissy! Thank God you’re okay!” Hollers Boone as he comes to my bedside, careful not to hurt me when pulling me to him. “I thought I lost you.”

His tears wetting my hospital gown as I hug him back as best I could. “I’m okay, Boonie.” I whisper in his ear as he sobs.

“Is the girl okay?” I ask, worry filling me up at the thought that she didn’t make it.

“Yes, she made it inside just in time, Sissy. You saved her life.” Boone says, taking my head in his hands and pressing our foreheads together like we did when we were kids.

I close my eyes, nodding and thanking God that we were all okay.

“I need to go sign some paperwork but if you’re feeling up to it, we can take you home today. You got lucky,” Boone tells me while getting up from my hospital bed.

“I’d love nothing more than my bed.” I reply, shooting him a smile as he steps out.

I turn to Tyler who’s been quietly standing in the corner this whole time and I notice his swollen eyes. My heart squeezing at the thought of having worried him and Boone.

“Hey,” I mutter, and his eyes finally meet mine.

“Guess Boone isn’t the only tornado chaser in the family huh,” he jokes, still standing in the corner.

“Guess not,” I reply, chuckling but my throat is so dry that it turns into a cough and he’s rushing to my bedside with a glass of water in hand.

“Thank you,” I manage to say as I chug the water. Instant relief filling my throat. “So, can you fill me in on what happened after I got sucked into the tornado?”

“Uh, well witness accounts are that you pushed the girl inside and then got sucked in. Me and Boone had been chasing the tornado and pulled into the lot as it dissipated.” He stops, taking a seat on the bed and grabbing my hand. “The people in the supermarket started pouring out and screaming that you got sucked in, of course at the time we didn’t know it’d been you. Nevertheless we all started searching and found you passed out on top of a tarp in the baseball field.”

“Oh wow, that’s quite the distance. Saved myself some gas for sure,” I joke, but he doesn’t laugh. “Y/N, you could’ve died. You got out with scratches and a story but you could’ve died,” he says, a somber look on his face.

“Hey, I’m okay. I didn’t die. Nana protected me,” I tell him, tipping his face so his eyes meet mine. “I got a second chance to start over and,” but he cuts me off.

“I love you,” he says, then his lips crash into mine. The kiss knocks the air out of my lungs but as he pulls away, I recover and pull him back to my lips.

When he finally draws back, his eyes are teary but there is no sadness in them anymore. “I’m sorry for walking out on you, if you had died, I don’t know how I could live with myself, knowing how I left things,” he says, his words piercing my heart.

“Hey,” I say softly, “I’m here and I’m okay. I know there’s a lot we need to talk about but I can promise you this, I’m not leaving Oklahoma. Ever.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” I whisper, leaning in to meet his lips.

But before we can finish our moment with a kiss Boone is bursting through the door.

-

** One month later **

“Ty! Dinner’s ready!” I holler, and I hear the sound of the shower turning off. Making my way to the living room I stop and pick up my Nana’s picture, thank you for saving me. I think to myself and put it back down.

“Ty! Come on!” I yell, quietly sneaking up the stairs to our room. Glad that Boone’s off with Lily at the fair.

“Coming!” I hear him yell from the bathroom. The towel is wrapped around his waist and drops of water make their way down his abs. Man, I’d sure love to be that towel. I think to myself as I watch from the door crack but am greeted with a smirk when I make my way up to his face.

“Hey darlin’, coming to see the view?” he asks cheekily, turning to me. Busted.

“Well you’re the one who says “if you feel it, chase it,” and I sure am feeling a lot of things right now,” I reply, letting my eyes trail down his chest.

“Oh, yeah?” he replies, coming closer. “Well you better start running.”

I giggle and turn to run but don’t even make it out the room before he’s tackling me to the bed. Dinner is gonna be real cold when we’re done here.