#but as I grew up and more and more hard times came I

[itsallsinshere]

sweeter than dreams

boyfriend!Nanami comes home after a long and late day at work, and when you look so sweet sleeping there... how can he help himself?

warnings: somnophilia, even though it was consented by both parties prior/reader consents throughout -- just tread carefully!

PLEASE NO MINORS, 18+ ONLY, THANK YOUUUU

The night was still and quiet, as it always was by the time Nanami finished his sorcery duties. With the growing global discontent at the state of the world, curses only seemed to spring up more and more frequently– which meant Nanami had much later nights. At least he was getting paid overtime. 

But the extra compensation was hardly comparable to being able to come home to you. 

It was you that quickened his step and strengthened his swings once 5:01 came rolling around, and the pull back to your soft embrace and the sweet smell of your shampoo was inescapable. It was you that he fought so hard to protect every day with a fervor. 

The iron staircase creaked beneath his lumbering steps as he climbed to the second floor landing of the apartment complex, exhaling a slow and heavy sigh as he took a moment to stall in the fluorescent lighting. Today was especially long and tedious, even with Yuji and Megumi’s assistance. One hand grasped at the side of his neck to dig his fingers in as a pseudo-massage, body aching from exertion. 

At only 28 years of age, the man felt decades older with each passing day. There was no end to the work of a jujutsu sorcerer, and though thoughts of you kept him from ever truly considering it, Nanami sometimes wondered just how much he could take. He was only human, even if he did what most others could not. 

The keys jingled as he fished them from the pocket of his slacks, a smile ghosting upon his lips at the smell of pine permeating through the edges of the closed door– you must’ve had one of your candles on tonight, the ones he always kept well stocked for you. 

“Sweetheart?” 

The silence that greeted him was only a touch unnerving, perhaps because he was so eager to hear your sweet voice calling for him the moment he arrived home. But the soft dim of your shared apartment calmed him as he gently closed and locked the door behind him– nothing was out of place, and if something really was wrong, he figured at least one or two things would’ve been toppled over. So he bent down to remove his shoes and set them on the rack before advancing further, shrugging off his blazer to hang on the coat rack.

Everywhere there were small reminders of you that made it feel more like home than it ever had before you’d moved in. Your shoes by the door, your bag seated neatly on the kitchen table next to a plastic-wrapped dish with a little note on it. 

Made you dinner & got your favorite bread for dessert — in the toaster. I love you ❤️ 

The smile that settled upon his lips was a subtle and tender little upturn in the way only you managed to bring about. Always so thoughtful and sweet, you never once gave Nanami any guff about his late nights and only ensured dinner was ready and waiting for him. He wasn’t quite sure how he made due before you’d entered his life, and now you’d become a fixture he couldn’t ever live without. 

The clock on the microwave read 2:15 am as he carefully unwrapped the dish and placed it within to heat, waiting for the timer to elapse down to one second before plucking open the door once more— before the timer blared of course. 

It smelled delicious as your cooking always did and tasted even better, though Nanami knew your company would’ve only enhanced the experience. With each bite he was aware of your absence at the table, and the desire to see you grew. And once the plate was cleared and quietly cleaned in the sink, the bread was left in the toaster in favor of more important things. 

The sight of you curled up in his bed charmed a soft smile upon his face immediately, unable to help leaning against the doorframe just to admire you. You must’ve been asleep for a while by then, with the way the covers were kicked off and your hair had gone messy. He watched your chest rise and fall with each breath vigilantly before he even paused to ponder your state. 

Nanami was a rather simple man, aside from all the sorcery. He wore a suit to work (and most other affairs, unless you begged him to wear something more casual) and pajamas to bed. It was a bit of a shock to have seen you climbing into bed the first night you’d moved in with only a shirt over your underwear. He’d even offered to buy you a set, figuring maybe you’d forgotten or lost yours in the move over. But you respectfully declined with a kiss, expressing that you could never sleep with pants on— something along the lines of “I like to let my legs breathe!” The notion was novel to him at the time, but if it kept you comfortable then that was the end of that. Of course over time he began to appreciate the freedom your decision came with, how pleasant it was to run his fingertips over the exterior of your soft thigh and hip in the early morning hours, to watch your eyes flutter open and sparkle with recognition as his thumb caressed close to your waist. Any and every way to get closer to you was a godsend, lack of clothing included. 

You were sleeping comfortably on your side, knees curled up towards your chest with your arms strewn messily across the other half of the bed— where Nanami should’ve been, for hours by now. The shirt you were wearing, his t-shirt of course, had bunched and ridden up around your waist. And in your slumber you yawned and extended your legs just a bit before settling once more, making Nanami’s breath hitch. You were wearing those panties. His favorite, though he’d never told you so. Black and silky with scalloped edges that sat so prettily upon the plush of your rear and the fullness of your thighs… it clung to the curves of your ass and left little to the imagination, though Nanami had memorized the intricacies of your body long ago. 

In the darkness, his eyes traced up and down your exposed lower body, stopping each time at that little garment that had such a big effect on him. But only when he deigned to look up at your peacefully sleeping face did he feel the tightness in his chest and the unrest in his fingers— only then did he realize just how much he’d missed you, and now needed you. 

Work had been killer lately, and these late nights were growing more and more frequent. Nanami recalled the last time he’d even had the *time* to touch you as well over a couple weeks ago. It was catching up to him then, the stirring in his chest echoing the heat swelling in his groin. It was a sin to be bereft of you for so long, and he couldn’t go another moment. 

Silent as he could, he hooked an index finger over the knot of his tie to loosen it down to his chest and then pull it off, setting it on the dresser near the door as his other hand went about undoing his button down from the collar. His eyes never strayed from you as he slipped his suspenders off one broad shoulder then the other, not even for one moment. And if it were any other night Nanami would’ve taken the care to place his discarded garments in the clothing bin by the foot of the bed, but such tasks seemed trivial in comparison to you. 

You, who slept so blissfully unaware of how just the sight of you set him ablaze. For a moment he felt a tinge of indignation while undoing his slacks— how dare you sleep so sweetly that he couldn’t resist his need to savor it? 

He was half-hard already, just from letting his eyes trace the curve of your ass over and over again. And though he’d never felt such an inclination before, he was quick to climb into bed next to you with just his briefs on which grew more strained by the second. 

It was a suggestion that Nanami had deemed asinine when you’d first put it out into the universe– the idea of him doing anything to you unless you were fully awake and present seemed extremely gouache and unsavory. What sort of gentleman would impose himself upon someone so vulnerable? 

But the idea had set him aflame now as he slid close enough to feel your warmth, his breathing growing labored. The smell of your shampoo felt cloying in his nostrils, sweeter than any tart or cake at even his favorite childhood bakery. One hand reached for you and paused in midair, as though at war with his own morals. And none the wiser, you exhaled a soft breath as you turned onto your back, your bust jumping before settling on your chest– and that was all it took. 

First tentatively over the plush of your exposed stomach, releasing a shuddered exhale as his fingertips dragged over your soft skin. He admired you in the quiet still of your bedroom, in your oblivious slumber as his thumb stroked under the hem of the shirt bunched around your waist. He chuckled, low and hushed, more to himself than to you. “If only you knew how you’ve wrapped me around your finger...” Gently, he leaned close enough to brush the ghost of a kiss against your temple, savoring your warmth before he could no longer ignore the throbbing in his briefs. 

Ever so softly he raised the hem of the t-shirt– his t-shirt that he appreciated much more on you. A centimeter a second as to not disturb you from your peaceful slumber, bunching up the fabric until he could raise it over your chest. And how sweet and serene your expression was as he took to your skin like a man starved, thoughts of only you overwhelming his composure. How soft and smooth your skin was, how supple the flesh of your breasts felt as he so gently cupped them to bring them together, and how oblivious to the way his cock was throbbing for you. His eyes locked on your face, he tested the waters by swiping the pad of one thumb against the underside of your nipple. And when a shudder ran through you but you did not stir or wake, Nanami swallowed the groan it conjured in the depths of his chest. 

“Irresistible, even in the depths of your dreams…” He breathed against your skin as he climbed over your legs and let the tip of his nose brush just lightly against the side of your hardening nipple. Your exhale hitched out into the ghost of a whimper that brought a smile to his lips before they parted to run the flat of his tongue over both nipples at once. The goosebumps that bristled upon your skin quickly after was enough to have the hairs at the back of his neck bristling with impatience– but he wouldn’t rush this. 

Yet he couldn’t resist dragging the tip of his tented cock against the plush of your thigh as he feasted hot kisses upon both nipples and breast, ears perking to hear the slow and steady of your breathing growing quicker and shallower with each passing moment. Soft kisses trailed down your sternum and tummy, whispered praises ghosting over your skin even though he knew you weren’t awake to hear them. 

Your hips stirred from the bed when his lips brushed against your hip bone and his eyes flickered back up to your face, amusement in his husky voice. “Awake, darling?” As much as the sound of your sleepy voice would’ve warmed his heart, part of him was grateful that silence was his answer. There was an unexpected power in having you like this even though Nanami would sooner die than do anything unsavory to you– but to have you at his mercy? It sparked an unexpected bout of dominance that had him tugging your panties down your thighs with a little less grace than before.

“Nnn..” You whimpered in your unconsciousness at the movement and Nanami shushed you gently, peppering kisses to the tops of your thighs as he worked your panties down and off of your ankles. 

He spread your legs slowly and savored the warmth of settling between your thighs, feeling the blood pumping in his veins accelerating as he caught the scent of your budding arousal. His large hands gently cupped the undersides of your knees to hold them apart, caring less and less about waking you and more about finally having you. 

Nanami was quick to press a messy kiss to your leaking slit, eyes snapping up to your face between your heaving breasts as his tongue slipped out to collect your leaking nectar– so sweet, the only dessert he needed, despite your consideration. 

The muscle dove between your folds as far as he could manage, squeezing the underside of your thighs when he felt your body starting to twitch and stir in response. He was steadfast in the way he tasted you, all but panting into your sensitive flesh. Only when one hand groped down to your loins and thumbed over your clit did your body arch and a wavering keen fall from your soft lips. “Nanami…” Something about your crackling little voice, heavy with the pull of sleep that you seemed to fight against, made him sigh sweetly into your cunt. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” He responded with a bit of mirth, enjoying how your eyelids fluttered when he slipped two fingers inside. You gasped sharply and bucked, but Nanami hooked his other arm under your thigh and around your hip to keep you in place. You were on the verge of waking now though the thought went by the wayside– he had much more important things to focus on, like the sound of your wetness oozing over his fingers and down your ass. 

The whimpers that fell from your lips were positively sinful, but Nanami’s fingers plunged inside like you were the only salvation he knew. Still not quite awake but definitely not asleep, it was an endearing limbo that the man fully intended to take advantage of. 

“What is it, my love?” He goaded in a husky tone that muffled against your mound before dragging the tip of his tongue agonizingly slowly over your perked clit that had you groaning and curling your toes. Of course you couldn’t answer coherently, between battling the heaviness of your eyelids and the heat sweltering from within you, and Nanami enjoyed the distressed and pleasured look on your face immensely. 

“F-Fingers… F-Feels… Hhn…” You barely managed to string together, to which Nanami chuckled breathily over your pussy before curling his long fingers to more completely dig around in your insides. 

“That’s right, sweetheart…” He hummed into your cunt, pressing a chaste kiss to your clit before scissoring his fingers within you to savor how it made you mewl, “You looked so sweet, I just couldn’t help myself. Is that alright?” 

How quickly you nodded in your stupor, one trembling hand reaching down to fix tightly to his taut forearm. “Yes!” 

He could tell that you were nearing your limit, as was he with the painful way his cock was throbbing and rock hard against the silk of the sheets. It ached for relief, but he placated the pulsating by idly grinding against the bunched up comforter beneath him. 

“Let it out then, baby,” Nanami rasped, throat thick with desire and your sweetness as the words vibrated over your sensitive flesh, “So I can give you what you need.” 

He doubled his efforts instantly after the growled word rolled off of his tongue, quick to put the muscle to use and flick it ceaselessly over your bud. Your walls suctioned down around his digits as if to keep them buried there, only milking harder with each passing moment that had your entire body buzzing with bliss. The weight of your slumber was still lingering upon each extremity, your head still foggy with the suddenness of your awakening, yet it only served to sharpen the pleasure swelling within your gut that echoed in the way your moans hitched higher and harsher. And despite the gentleman you’d always known him to be, Nanani was ravenous as he ripped a powerful orgasm from your shuddering body and lapped up every drop to be spared like a delicacy. You’d hardly even realized you’d been chanting his name until the ringing in your ears stopped and your eyes fluttered open at last, just in time to see his tender smile as he climbed atop you. 

“Are you alright?” He asked between soft kisses, his dry hand raising to cup the side of your face and caress his thumb over your cheek, “Not too much?” 

“Not enough…” You huffed in a petulant little whine, feeling your walls clamping down around the infuriating emptiness within at both his affection and the taste of yourself on his lips. 

“Is that so?” He murmured, playfully, sitting back on his haunches between your thighs to let his eyes languidly run up and down your mostly exposed body beneath him. You nodded, chewing on your bottom lip as you watched him clean your essence from his fingers– leaving not one drop of slick behind. And when one of your hands snuck down to pluck at the waistband of his briefs he couldn’t help but laugh, genuinely tickled at your impatience. 

“You were asleep two minutes ago, and now you’re getting grabby?” He tutted, good-naturedly. Nanami gently took the wrist of that hand to bring it up and kiss the heel of your palm before setting it back down on the bed next to you. You pouted at the tease in his voice but the sight only made him smile, leaning down to kiss your pursed lips as he tugged the waistband of his briefs low enough for his excitement to spring free. “Don't worry, I won’t keep you waiting.” 

In one swift movement he reared his hips back to sink slowly into your warmth, sucking in a breath through gritted teeth as sparks of pleasure crackled through your nerves. “Every time–” Nanami groaned, one hand fastening to the plush of your hip as the other rose to cup underneath your neck, his forehead resting upon yours as he adjusted to your warmth, “Every time you feel like heaven…” 

He kissed you diligently, letting not one moment pass where the fullness of your lips was not meshed flush against his own to eat up your sweet whines and muffled moans. You could feel him pulsing deep inside of you, and for a moment you were ready to curse his sense of restraint until at last he began in short and shallow thrusts. It wasn’t long before you were bucking your hips up to meet his, panting as he tore his lips from yours to lock eyes with you as the pace picked up. 

“Oh god…” You sighed breathlessly as the tip of his cock scraped against your still sensitive walls each time he shifted forward, sinking deeper and deeper with each thrust until at last you could feel him hilting and the slap of perspiring skin on skin filled the bedroom around you. 

“What a naughty thing, practically begging me to fuck you in your sleep…” Nanami grunted as he groped the fat of your hip harshly, using it to hold you down further and drive into you more violently, eyes never leaving your face, “At first I thought it was barbaric, brutish even…” 

He leaned in to pepper your cheek with soft pecks, the hand under your neck abandoning its post to instead help the other in grabbing your hips and raising it to drive himself more firmly into you. “But seeing you, so oblivious and yet so receptive to my touch…” Nanami cooed breathily into your ear, his smooth voice hitching with each firm thrust, “You may have just changed my mind after all. Is this what you wanted, baby? Hmm?” 

“God, yes!” You all but wailed as his tip bullied that sensitive and spongy spot deep inside of you, throwing your head back against the pillow as your nails dragged firmly down the man’s broad back. He hissed out in pained pleasure at the sensation and your moans wavered into frantic whines when he strained his back to truly slam into you. And when you grabbed for him in the frenzy of your pleasure, hands trembling and eyes watering, Nanami couldn’t help but growl and throw your legs over his shoulders to squeeze your thighs and pound his pulsing cock into your squelching cunt at an unyielding pace and force. You couldn’t recall a time he’d ever been so impassioned, but you certainly weren’t complaining– even if you had the wherewithal to comment on it between ragged gasps and cries. 

Your nails dug into the backs of his tensed hands as each firm thrust had you bouncing only for his hands to slam you back down onto his cock until your eyes were wide and you couldn’t recognize the sound of your own wanton squeals. 

“God, I’m–” Nanami’s husky voice rolled off into a low groan when your cunt squeezed down tight, your insides fluttering with a tell-tale tingle that spoke of your impending peak. He gritted his teeth, taking the opportunity to lave wet kisses upon your moist neck when your head tilted back in pleasure. “I’m close, sweetheart…” 

You practically sobbed in desperation and ecstasy as you felt the muscles in your gut tensing like the slow and methodical winding of a music box, unable to deny how your entire body sang for him. The hard ridges and the throbbing veins of his cock dragging against your clenching walls was almost as gratifying as the sound of his usually soft voice growing rich with blissful delight just as his composure began to slip. 

“I-Inside, please…!” You managed to keen just as you felt the rubber band inside fraying and splintering until the dam disintegrated and electrifying nirvana crashed through you from head to toe in a shaking precipice. Nanami grunted as your leaking walls clamped down hard around his rock hard girth, stuffing into you messily until he seated himself inside of you completely. And with a soft sigh of relief, eyes squeezing shut, he shot his seed as deep into you as he could manage, the warmth sending flutters through you. He was quick to release your thighs in favor of cupping your face, pressing one sweet kiss and then another to your lips until the last rope filled you. 

“Alright?” Nanami was always quick to check on you after sex, eyes vigilantly tracing over your features to search for any indication of pain or discontent. You smiled dreamily and nuzzled into one of his palms, “I’m alright, Nanami.” 

Only then did he truly allow himself to relax, carefully laying himself down next to you to pull you close. His fingers threaded gently through your hair, letting the corner of his lips rest against your forehead. “Good.” He hummed. 

It must’ve been at least 3:30 in the morning by then, the stuffy heat in the room gradually dissipating to a comfortable warmth shared between your bodies. Nanami helped you tug the t-shirt back down modestly before tucking himself back into his briefs. You knew he probably wanted to shower, but the silence and the gradual slowing of his breath informed you that it probably wouldn’t be happening tonight. It was only a few more moments until he was out cold, one arm loosely around your waist to keep your body comfortably nestled against his own. And while he was squarely asleep, you were completely awake, the height of your pleasure still thrumming adrenaline through your veins. You took the opportunity to admire the man you loved, the manly edges of his visage, the surprising length of his eyelashes and the blonde tint to them that mirrored his cropped hair– made messy from your intimacy. 

He looked so… serene. So… vulnerable. 

Maybe you’d have to give it a try sometime, too.

[syverse]

i depend on you // ft. katsuki bakugou

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

bakugou can't bring himself to hate you, even after you left

warnings&a/n: if this is bad LEAVE ME ALONE PLEASE!!! got suddenly verrrry inspired by that one drawing on tiktok and maybe i misinterpreted it in the writing but shoot me who cares. this is like my first time writing something and actually finishing it i get so discouraged and give up. if you hate this i will never do this again.

In his life, there's a lot of things that Bakugou hates. He hates simple and unavoidable things like the rain, and he hates specific things like people who rely on everybody around them. He hates weak people, hates getting up too early in the morning, hates being too involved in other people's lives if he doesn’t necessarily have to be. But, as he sits alone at his desk, forced to listen to the obnoxious and overbearing sounds of society in Tokyo despite how late it is, Bakugo can’t think of anything he hates more than you. 

He spent a lot of his life loving you. He loved things like your unwavering conviction to do the right thing, he loved the look in your eyes when you stole glances from each other during class dinner back when you were both in highschool, and loved the way you whispered his name like a prayer when it was just the two of you under the covers of your shared bed. It was hard at first, but as the two of you grew together, so did his love. He learned to love through the sound of your laughter and the feeling of your gentle hands intertwining with his. Nimble fingers pressing into the palms of his hands before flipping them over and placing feather-like kisses on his fingerprints, he tries to swallow the bile that claws its path up his throat.  

Along with the symphony of nightlife outside of his agency, he can also pick out the faint sound of a news reporter being broadcasted on a billboard next to his building. Pictures of your face are shown on the large screen, along with the headline “PRO HERO TURNED VILLAIN” and Bakugou holds his breath for as long as he can. His phone lay flat on his desk in front of him, buzzing every few seconds from concerned friends and family members, but the blonde doesn’t dare to touch it. It had been at least a week since your departure from his agency, and the news had spread to all of Japan at this point, but the news and media were still eating it alive as if they were starving. 

Bakugou’s eyes glue shut as he wishes for memories of you to disappear, and for the heavy dread in his gut to fizz up and die out. He curses himself for not picking up on it sooner, the fact that you would leave. Looking back on it, he’s pretty sure he could put his finger on the exact moment when you started to fade away. When the universe in your eyes started to blur each time you looked at him, when the sense behind your touch became hesitant instead of gentle, and when your cheeks no longer touched your eyes when you smiled. He should’ve said something. Should’ve done a lot of things to at least delay your disappearance, but Bakugo was familiar with the fact that he was never good with words, and the fact that his heart was bottomless with fear of him making it worse. 

Bakugou absolutely hates you for leaving him here. He hates that he can’t throw every single I love you that came out of his mouth into a little box and set it to ashes, hates that he has to go back to home and still smell you on his bedsheets, hates that even though you’ve made it clear that you’re never coming back, he still patiently waits with bated breath to hear you whisper his name again.  So, as Katsuki picks himself off of his desk and drags himself to the elevator to return back his house, his house where you don't live anymore, he tries to convince himself to forget you, and ignores the way his tongue instinctively traces the letters of your name on the roof of his mouth.

[fanficgirl429]

Prompt: Bradley agrees to agree on vacation with your family, however the two of you had barely even touched since being on vacation

18+ only

_____

The kitchen was filled with laughter as your entire family sat around, drinking and munching on chips. It was the second to last night of your family vacation and you smiled as you enjoyed your time with them. 

A few minutes ago your longtime boyfriend, Bradley, had disappeared from the kitchen claiming that he was going to use the bathroom and would be right back. It was then that you realized that he probably wasn’t going to be back anytime soon. Bradley enjoyed being around your family and you were thankful that he had agreed to join you and your family on your vacation but sometimes he got overstimulated and needed some time to himself- which you fully respected. 

Standing up, you excused yourself and left the noisy kitchen and walked towards the front of the house- where the downstairs bathroom was. The door was cracked and the lights were out, indicating that Bradley was no longer in there. Slowly, you glanced around the foyer, as you thought about where your boyfriend could be. 

You walked up the stairs where the bedrooms were and glanced in his room but he wasn’t in there. Turning around, you looked inside your room to find it empty as well. Taking the stairs, two at a time, you ran down them and headed towards the basement steps. No one noticed as you descended them and stepped into the large family room that was down there. Even though the basement had a large family room, with a nice couch, comfy armchair, and large tv, no one ever really came down there. 

The back of Bradley’s head was towards you and he had the tv on a low volume as he sat, glancing down at his phone. 

“Hey,” you said, walking around the couch and sitting down next to him. 

“Hey babe,” he replied, wrapping an arm around your waist. 

“You ok?”

“Yea. It was just loud and I needed a few minutes and then I got distracted by my phone,” he said, chuckling. 

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence as you watched the tv, laughing occasionally. At some point, the two of you had laid down on the couch, your back pressing against Bradley’s stomach. His fingers lazily played with the hem of your white t shirt and you were silently hoping that maybe this could lead to something more. Of course, since the two of you were on vacation with your family, there had been very little touching and now you were craving it. The moment the two of you were back in your own home, you would be all over Bradley. 

Bradley moved his hand from your t shirt and placed it on your bare leg, moving his fingers up and down your thigh, coming to a stop at the end of your shorts. He did this a few more times and you nonchalantly angled your leg, allowing him better access to your core, hoping he would get the hint. 

Your boyfriend’s fingers brushed the edge of your shorts as they continued to make their way up your thigh. He placed his two fingers on the material of your underwear, letting out small gasp as he felt how wet they were. Expertly, he pushed aside the material and brushed his fingers against your sensitive spot. 

Bradley’s other hand reached under your shirt, pushed aside the material of your bra, and began to rub his fingers against your nipple, making it hard. A soft moan escaped your lips as your boyfriend’s fingers slipped inside of you and began to move them back and forth. 

“Bradley…” you breathed. 

“You have to stay quiet,” Bradley whispered in your ear. 

His fingers continued to move against your body and you could feel your climax beginning to approach. A knot quickly grew in your stomach as Bradley’s fingers moved quicker. 

“Let go baby,” Bradley whispered. 

Your walls clenched around Bradley’s fingers and a loud moan escaped from your lips. Bradley quickly placed a hand on your mouth as you continued to come down from your high.

“Feel better?” Bradley joked, as he pulled his hand away from your lower half. 

“Much,” you replied, eyeing the bulge in his gray sweatpants. 

Bradley rolled onto his back and motioned for you to get on top of him. You sat down on him, your core pressed against his erection. He wrapped his arms around your neck and pulled you towards as he placed his lips against yours. He kissed you quickly, his tongue making its way into your mouth and tangling with yours. His hands moved underneath the material of your shorts as he gently caressed your ass, as you began to slowly rock your body against him. 

As your lips moved with his, you reached down and found the waistband of his sweatpants and began to pull it down, revealing his black boxer briefs, pulling those down as well until his dick was free. You pulled away from Bradley and sat up, your eyes locking with blue ones. He watched as you bent down and ran your tongue along his length, licking the precum that had begun to form. 

“Fuck Y/N,” Bradley groaned. “You have no idea how bad I need you right now.” 

A smile formed on your lips as you sat back up. “So take me,” you challenged. 

“What if someone comes down here?” Bradley countered. 

“You just fingered me and no one did, so why are you caring now?”

Bradley shrugged as he realized what you said was true. “Live a little,” you said, letting out a soft laugh. 

With that, Bradley placed his hand on his erection and watched as you pushed your shorts to the side before helping guide you onto him. Slowly, you sank onto him as he filled you. Once you were ready, he placed his hands on your hip and began to softly guide up and down. Your hands were placed against his toned chest as the two of you moved your bodies together. 

The room was quiet, with the occasional moan from either of you. It didn’t take long before you could feel your second climax coming. You moved your body a bit quicker as you aimed to reach your high for the second time that night. Bradley’s dick twitched indicating that he had just reached his high and you let your walls clench around him, the two of you breathing heavily. It was then that you realized how much your legs were hurting you and you moved off of Bradley and laid down next do him. 

“Let’s wait a bit to go back upstairs,” you said, as Bradley pulled you against him. 

“Yea, you look like you just got fucked,” Bradley said, laughing. 

[0rczy]

I really like analyzing Varigo, one thing I've noticed recently is how different their approach to romance (and human connections in general) really is, but also how they're pretty much the perfect foils in this regard.

Varian grew up sheltered away in their mansion. He didn't have much clue about socializing, so when Rapunzel came to him, he gives all of them proper respect (calling Rapunzel "Princess", Eugene "Flynn Rider", as in the full name). You could assume it's because of his dad; later when the two confronted each other, Varian called him "Sir". Probably because Quiring taught him to be respectful of others, and they both clearly take this social rule rather seriously.

So then Cassandra comes in and saves Varian, for apparently no selfish reasons. She likely just didn't want to have a child get crushed when she could've prevented it, but to Varian, this changes his view on people. Cassandra isn't just a distant figure to respect; instead, someone he could have a connection with. And this is where one of Varian's most essential traits come to light: when comfortable, he treats situations like an experiment. He immediately starts calling her by a nickname, "Cassie", to see how she would react. At the day of the expo, he keeps trying out different tactics, trying to essentially just get close to Cassandra. One could Interpret this romantically, but I personally like to think he just really wanted a friend. A lonely kid, seeing someone cool show any kind of affection for him immediately made him go "there could be something here! I need to find out!", and so he does. In his own, nerdy way.

Hugo, on the other hand. He, unlike Varian, grew up having to socialize all the time. Having to talk his way out of situations constantly, he learned to put up walls so that the most desirable results come out, benefiting him and his missions. When he weasels his way into the Team, he also calls them nicknames. In his case, it stems from a need to distance himself from people, so that he doesn't get attached. One slight exception though is Varian, as Hugo seemingly not only uses nicknames on him to keep up built-up walls, but to get a reaction out of him. This is very similar to how Varian approached Cassandra when he was younger. He's interested in Varian from early on, and he handles this in his good old Hugo fashion, because he finds Varian entertaining. Varian at first doesn't trust Hugo, but when he proves himself trustworthy, he gives in. He's willing to reach out, making Hugo more than a means to an end. Eventually, the two become friends! Then more than friends!

And then, their approaches change.

I'd like to think that it was Hugo, who fell first. Or at the very least, he's the first to realize it, and he HATES THIS. His flight or flight is activated, and he really wants to flee. He's the type to ignore his feelings, try to bury them. That's all he knows how to do, really. Especially because for what could be the first time in his life, he's actually falling for someone who is his friend. Someone who means a lot to him! He wouldn't want to ruin things, especially because he knows that betraying Variant will break the guy's heart, once he finds out. Therefore, the less pain, the better.

Varian is the exact opposite of this. It takes him a long time to figure out what he feels, and that it could be romantic (he didn't exactly have the history with romance before. The "puppy crush" on Cassandra could have easily been more of an obsession with the possibility of someone showing affection towards him). But once he realizes that there's a chance that the two could be a thing? He doesn't have to think hard about what his next step should be: he likes Hugo, and he's a scientist. Trial and error is practically in his blood at this point, so if there's even a small possibility of them getting together? That Hugo likes him back? Varian will do anything to find out how probable his theory is. And so, once again, he treats the situation like an experiment. Wasting no time, he tries to confess or bring up the idea as quickly as possible. And Hugo FREAKS OUT. He's not ready!

Varian's other big trait is his stubbornness. He's not satisfied with an uncertain answer. He wants to know Hugo's view on them, as clearly as possible. So he keeps poking around, trying to find an approach that brings out different reactions, different answers as to why Hugo would be scared of them being together. Again. Really similar to how he treated Cassandra at the expo back then. This is the only way he knows how, though. And he needs clear answers.

He gets one at the last trial. Boom. Heartbreak. This isn't about angst though, so I'll end it here.

I find them so interesting. How their upbringing influenced their view and approach to people, to friendship, to romance. To each other. They are both scientists, but one is more afraid of the results than the other.

So it all boils down to the importance of clear communication: another big theme in Vat7k, what with Ulla and Donella setting an example as what not to do.

I could ramble about these characters for ages, but yeah. This is my view on them, I loooove reading different Interpretations in fan fiction though!

[thisuserisgonesorry]

1,, im not a teenager . might be young but i have a pretty good grasp on adulthood atp , and i’m not the only person that thinks this specific take; ive asked a lot of mutuals/friends who are (young,,) adults and agree w/ me and many people in rbs agree so like .. bringing my age into this is so left field cos . idk . weird thing 2 say

2 in my experience from living in a very “redneck” (lack of a better term) area (though not america, so there could be a difference), ive met 20-25 year olds who look and act exactly like daryl in s1 because teenagers in redneck areas just look like that. thats where my estimate came from, due to my own experiences

3,, norman reedus literally just looks young in everything he plays . you cant deny that he has a bit of a baby face and doesnt ALWAYS look his age . (but also celebrity men do look like that cos they dont just start rotting away the second they hit 23 because blue collar / minimum wage jobs suck) and never did i say there was a problem w/ him being 40 , just that it didnt make sense in my mind,,, nd actors can play characters that are a different age than them. norman being 40 ≠ daryl having to be 40

4,, he wasnt embarrassed until around season 3-4 iirc , closer to when he was around more people and less isolated , closer to merles death , more so around when he found out carol would go to that community home to get away from ed and then more around beths whole arc (iirc? im a bit aways from s3 rn,,)

nd considering 25+ is around when the frontal lobe developed. yeah. he would act like an idiot in s1. like all young adults do. and he would helplessly follow his brother around for validation considering his childhood, and he’d do whatever he wanted. he would be a terrible drunk, with no job. young adults do that. especially ones w/ mental health / bad childhood

then he develops into a person who was willing to learn to deal with his trauma when around season 4 when (in hc) he’d be like 27 at the earliest (?) because we have to remember that we skip all of loris pregnancy and then the first year (?) of judiths life. making him on the closer side to 30 around the time the prison, when his character starts developing.

(and i never said 25 was the solid age, just that hes “like 25”, meaning im happy to account s1 daryl as 26,27,28, whatever, just that hes under 30 in s1 in my mind)

5 i agree that him being older plays a part in his story but i dont think being 25 suddenly makes him a little baby that makes his development void. his frontal lobe developed. that is a valid subtextual reason for him to mature. but that isnt the only thing that made him reflect and want to cope with his trauma. merles frontal lobe developed and he never tried to do what daryl did - therefor the age thing doesn’t exactly diminish his story or else merle wouldve changed before the outbreak, but he didnt, because some people dont. some people reach frontal lobe age and stay the same. its not “he just grew up” because then merle would have too, but he did grow up, and realised following merle was stupid. but he wouldnt have reached that outcome if there werent other factors so it can easily be both

6 i never said 40 looks old or that theres a problem w it, but how is he older than rick? than most of the other people there? being older than rick feels like it makes no sense (although rick didnt grow up like daryl did and they had carl young so blab yeah theres reasons) and merle being 35+ does make some sense though id somewhat agree 35 is young for merle. m not saying that ppl start decomposing when they hit 30 but god forbid i hc someone as not 40

+ trauma physically ages people so even if daryl did look the same age or older than rick, then it would still be plausible that hes younger. we see trauma age characters in this show. its not hard to assume it happened to him outside of the outbreak too

prob formatted this like a mess but ,, m tired

n e way other people in the rb say that they think daryl is different ages to all of them (varying from 20-40) and as i said in those rbs its interesting that no one can really “agree” on what age he should be cos hes an enigma like that and i think it suits him,, like we all can agree on certain things about certain character cos its a unanimous vibe but then his unanimous vibe is that no one truly knows him??? subtext of it all .

anyway /nm for all of this . im just a little guy . i respect ur opinion cos i love my pookie and i really do love that everyone interprets his story so differently ,,,, i just like talking about it

idgaf im sick of not saying it. s1 daryl dixon is not fucking 40 bro. hes like 25. there is no way in fucking hell.

[drdemonprince]

I’m liking the normalized conversations around childhood sexual assault and sexuality. There’s something even more “taboo” that no one talks about. I dont know if you actually want to respond to this but I’ll type it out if even just for cathartic purposes.

People very rarely discuss sexual assault where the victim actually gets pleasure out the experience. I was molested by a neighbourhood kid not much older than me who I believe was sexualized by his dad and encouraged to do things to the girls in our neighbourhood. I heard rumours about other girls.

Anyway I dont know if these events caused hyper sexuality or if it was already there and that’s why I responded the way I did. But basically he would do things and I would just kinda giggle and enjoy it. I was super young like maybe 4 and he was around 6. In my mind he was showing me attention like grown ups do who are in a relationship so I thought he was kinda like my boyfriend which I liked and I felt kinda special. But he was not into me like that at all and grew up to be a good looking popular prep school boy with like a million girls after him.

I look back and go yeah actually that was kinda gross and weird but my responses always made me feel more shame than what he did. Like there was something wrong with me for reacting that way.

I don’t know if you know Billy Connelly the Scottish comedian. He was molested by his dad and spoke about how it caused pain but there was pleasure in it too. It is like that because if you touch a human body in a certain place and way we will have natural responses albeit unwillingly.

I recently read something on here where this chick who was raped said she orgasmed through it. She still felt violated, traumatized, all those things. But her body responded that way and that caused her a lot of shame.

I wonder if this is more common than we think but no one talks about it? Which makes it a really hard place to come from and harder to try and talk openly about it and get support. Because people just probably think it’s gross and unnatural. Or that is means you “wanted it” therefore it’s not assault and your experience becomes invalidated.

I wish Tumblr's search function was better because I have talked about this many times before! I came during the majority of my assaults, it makes sense that this would be a self protective mechanism that the body employs to prevent physiological damage during rape. One of my assaults is so vividly linked to unstoppable/unintended pleasure in my mind that it's still one of my number one spank-bank topics; I masturbate about my assault on a regular basis and have frequently used sexual scenarios with consenting partners to recreate it for myself. What you are describing is super common anon. Try looking back in the archive for the taboo kinks asks to hopefully see more about this.

[minkoq]

🍓 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

Signed with Love

iida tenya; secretary! fem! reader (pro hero au)

warnings: sfw, pre-relationship, angst, mentions of alcohol, lowkey simp y/n

part 1 , part 2 , part 3 , part 4 , part 5

🍓 — your eyes scanned the room as you waited patiently for iida to arrive, the rest of your colleagues were drinking and laughing loudly in the small but homey restaurant. in front of you was a barley touched glass of beer, you weren't a big drinker but you have a hard time saying no, so you just smiled and nodded when someone poured you a glass.

🍓 — you looked towards the empty seat beside you, you swallowed your spit. insecurities and even some anxiety bubbled up, after the recent events with your boss you grew distant with him. iida and your relationship slowly disappeared into an unknown fog, you wanted to reach out and help him loosen up. that this relationship is okay to have, and that he shouldn't be so strict with himself.

🍓 — a gentle sigh left your lips, you hoped that the kiss wasn't a one time thing. that you could feel him soft lips against yours once more, how he held your face so delicately. like you might break if he put any pressure on you, but the shock in his eyes once he pulled away. the way he took his jacket and just walked out your door, a cloud of emotions were raging in your head. was it you?

🍓 — you were taken out of your complex thoughts when you heard loud laughter, your colleagues giggling and cheering quietly when they saw iida walk in through the door. your eyes were on him immediately, watching him bow politely, how he straightend his back as his eyes traced over the many faces, until he landed on yours.

🍓 — iida coughed awkwardly as you two made eye contact, he brushed a hand through his dark blue hair. you waved him over gently while pointing at the chair that was empty beside you, he nodded and came over to you. on the way he was stopped by some of your co-workers but continued to his seat. he was tense, so were you.

🍓 — he gave you a soft bow and sat down beside you, you smiled and bowed back gently. "congratulations on the mission," you praised him quietly, iida looked at you and nodded. "thank you, it wouldn't have been possible without your help." you grinned to yourself, he was always so humble.

🍓 — your eyes traced over his form, how his white dress shirt squeezed around his beefy biceps, how his sleeves were rolled up perfectly to reveal his veins on his arms. you gulped gently, an awkward silence fell over you two. the mingling of the rest of the restaurant dropped into the background, your eyes met but you cut off the eye contact and took a sip of your beer. you hated the taste, but anything would help to escape this situation.

🍓 — "i didn't think you'd come," you spoke out truthfully and looked back at him, he coughed awkwardly and pushed his glasses back up. you could see how he tried to find the words, "i.. thought you didn't want to see me." he said sheepishly while scratching the back of his head.

🍓 — you mouth hung open, your heart pounding heavily against your ribcage at his words. they made you ache. "it's still a dinner with the agency, you should attend them. no need to take my feelings into consideration." you rambled out as your face heated up, suddenly you felt the hot lights on your face. the laughter growing louder in your ears, you needed a small break.

🍓 — "how could i not take your feelings into consideration?" he asked, you could hear the genuine shock in his voice. it made your heart ache once more, he was such a polite and soft man, and this relationship was taboo. at least to iida.

🍓 — you felt your throat closen up, you got up softly. "excuse me for a second," you needed fresh air immediately, this restaurant grew so small on you, your head reeling with heavy thoughts. iida's longing gaze was crushing on your back as you walked towards the exit.

🍓 —you took a deep breath in of the crisp air, shit, you forgot your jacket inside. you walked a few feet over to a small alley, leaning against the wall and looking down at your feet. were you being too greedy? to just want iida all to yourself? you knew no other woman would appreciate him like you would.

🍓 — "sorry for making you uncomfortable." his voice cut out the silence, he leaned against the wall of the alley. "iida, you didn't make me uncomfortable." you reassured him quickly and eyed him shyly, "didn't i tell you to call me tenya?" he chuckled out, was.. was he teasing you?

🍓 — he walked closer and smiled down at you, did he suddenly have a change of heart? he seemed almost cunning, "yeah," you nodded and bit the inside of your cheek. "so why don't you call me that?" as much as he tried to be flirty the soft blush on his cheeks figures him out immediately, he was just trying to flirt. but it worked.

🍓 — "tenya." you whispered out into the cold air, he saw you shivering. he frowned and leaned in closer to you, his strong hands found itself on your jaw to lift up your chin, you gripped onto his forearms as you looked up at him.

🍓 — he leaned in and finally, connected his lips to yours again. the kiss felt longing, like he waited for this. he has suppressed his feelings for you for long enough, maybe he should calm down for once, take a breath of fresh air and just be with you.

🍓 — you closed your eyes and kissed him back, the wet smacking of your lips against eachother made your knees buckle. one arm wrapped itself around your waist as iida pushed you into the wall softly. his other arm was above your head as you two continued kissing.

🍓 — his tongue slipped into your mouth and that was the moment when you pulled away. "tenya, this.. you.." his breath fanned over your face as he adjusted his glasses on his nose, your soft stutters made him smile. "i'll wait for you inside."

[stardancerluv]

What the Emperor Wants

Part Fourteen

Summary: Passions arrive before tasks of marriage come to the Domus of Geta and Caracalla

Notes/Warnings: 18 & up👆🏻, Very smutty…& squint some angst & fluff!! A handjob, mentions of climax (female & male!) fingering, squint its exhibition since it takes place on a throne. Old, retro mentions/beliefs of old god/goddesses. Retro views of women.

❤️s, reblogs, comments & feedback are always welcome!

“Geta.” His name was your breath as you exhaled with the pleasure his lips brought you.

He glanced at you from around your hand.

You reached and gently, nestled your fingers to his short curls. They were rebellious from the hood that had tried to stifle them. Continuing to hold your wrist, he held you close as he continued to kiss your forearm, occasionally you’d feel his teeth.

“Who knew, the sweetest blossom in Rome could make me feel good just with a mere touch.” His voice had deepened.

“Being astride you, Geta such as this and the feel of your lips makes me feel great pleasure as well.” You kept running your fingers through the fiery curls.

He pressed his lip against your wrist before placing your hand back to where it belonged in your lap. His face grew serious, he looked off to a distance you could not see.

“Geta?”

“Leading up to our ceremony. We will have to be reasonable, chaste even in our relations.”

You had heard what was expected. You had seen of the marriage of one of your brothers and a cousin, and yet all of this was never what would imagined. You were left wondering what now was meant for her or the two of them.

“I will follow and do as you wish.”

His eyes moved back and looked at you. A smile curled his lips. His hand cupped your cheek. “I chose so wisely with you.”

“Thank you.” There was something you were curious about but you knew better now than to question him.

“Speak, blossom.” A soft edge entered his voice making it echo in the small throne area.

You took a breath. “Promise to not take my head.”

You said the words lightly, but there was a small snare of worry.

He rose an eyebrow. “For the moment.” His smile returned.

Good spirits continued to fill him, you mused.

“You have led us down our path. Why can’t we carry on such as that?”

He nodded. “We are very much doing that. Though there are some things that bring us good tidings and blessings to our marriage.”

You brought a hand to his thigh.

He closed his eyes and pressed his lips together at your touch.

“Is there anything we should accomplish or relish in specifically?”

His lashes fluttered against his cheeks before he looked at you once more. “We do have some time before a new day dawns. Before we allow the world, the people of Rome are told of our betrothal.”

“Yes. That is true, Geta.”

Taking ahold of your hand he slipped it into the folds of the fabrics he wore. You gasped as he brought you to his arousal.

Your fingers wrapped around his length.

A soft sound came from Geta’s lips.

You looked at him concern filled you.

“That feels as it should. I will show you.”

His breathing deepened and shorten. His much larger hand enveloped and guided yours.

Pleasure began to fill you as you felt as he appeared to grow within your hand. Passion had filled his face, his eyes were aflame.

“Geta, shall I lay down for you?” Though, you truly did not want to lay on the cold stone, and be like a common dog or animal. For him, you did not truly mind. You would always follow his lead, wherever it may take you.

“No, we shall stay here.”

He swallowed, another soft moan poured from his lips.

“It will be our tribute to the gods and goddess as close as we can.”

Your heart squeezed. It made the pleasure you were already feeling twist in an unexpected, pleasurable manner. He was growing more breathless.

Glancing down, seeing his hardness as it slid and move between your fingers and a soft sound escaped from you. You could remember how it felt inside of you.

His hand slipped from yours as his lips twisted into a smirk briefly. “You relish the sight of your emperor, your future husband?”

“Yes.” You swallowed. “You made me feel so good.”

Your fingers tightened before loosing and continuing to move up and down his length.

“Your body welcomed me as it should.” A smile appeared on his face. “I need to look upon my blossom.”

His hands easily, opened your stola. Your breasts, your body was bared to the cool air. Some of your curves were still cloaked by the fabric.

“Does it miss me?”

How he looked at you, made you tremble. Once again your fingers tightened around him. The sound that poured from his lips caused, a pleasurable ache once again to grow in you. It was a pleasure he brought to you. You could never imagine not knowing this pleasure given to you from him and the heavens above.

“Yes, Geta.”

His hand was warm as it rested on your thigh. “Open yourself to me.”

As you opened your thighs, you felt as your cheeks warmed. His hand easily slipped between your thighs. A moan softly, came from deep within you as you felt his finger tips merely graze you. You trembled and shifted on his lap.

“That’s my blossom.” He trembled as you felt his body tightened once again.

When you had felt him like this before while you lying as one, you had felt something. His seed had filled. You wondered if you would feel it now.

“Yes. Relish the pleasure.” You shook as you felt his fingers tease your opening.

You remembered how he had quicken his pace when he was above you. So you moved your hand as such.

“That feels so…” His voice trailed off, his body shook before straining against you. A moan poured from his lips.

You gasped as his seed spurted from him. Several ropes erupted from him, as he moaned and shook under you. His body jolt with each spurt. The sounds that came from him gave uou that pleasurable ache once more. His head tilted back. He closed his eyes, his chest was heaving.

“Geta?”

*************

He licked his lips as his heart thudded hard.

“Geta?” Your soft voice reached his ears.

Opening his eyes, he was met with concern awash on your face. His lips twitched with a smirk as he took you in.

“Blossom. Look at you, I have filled you with my seed and now I have covered you.”

He tilted his head to one side taking in the sight before him.

“I’m yours.”

Eyeing a cloth, on side table he easily snatched it up. Easily, he moved quickly and tidied you up. He tossed away the now soiled cloth.

“You are that.”

He could feel a fresh knot of passion tighten in him. How was he to avoid, being close with you before the ceremony. Looking you over, he swallowed.

He drew close. “Shall I touch you here? As you have touched me?” He made a soft thoughtful sound. “Would it make me weak?”

He felt a slight tremble come over you as he spoke. As you caught his eye, he could see the passion that burned in them.

“Geta, you will never be weak.”

“I cannot allow myself to be ensnared by passions even if it is with a woman who shall be my wife.”

You let a seriousness fall over you. “You make men whither with fear.”

Your breath caught as he drew his hand between the softness of your thighs.

“The man who had the desire to snuff out the flame that burns within you, cowered with fear.”

“That is true.”

He moved his hand so he cupped you. “Your mound, is beautiful like the rest of you. A soft temple of love and passion all for me.”

“It’s yours.”

He enjoying seeing how breathless you grew because of his touch. Remembering how you moved, sounded so he touched your little bud once again.

“Oh Geta.”

He heard you manage to say before a moan poured from your lips.

“So my fingers can make you feel good too?” He slowed his touch.

You trembled under his touch. Licking your lips, you nodded and whimpered. “Please, please;” You begged. It made the knot in his stomach tighter. “Don’t stop it feels so good.”

“Since you begged me so nicely.”

He watched, as he touched you more firmly like he had before. Your cheeks had a rosy flush and in the flickering flames your eyes shone with your passion.

You trembled and called out, a moan that caused him to bit his bottom lip. It was delicious to his ears.

You were soft and wilted in his arms like flower petals. He watched as you regained your breath, your eyes fluttered open. That feeling, you had brought to him was back. It almost stole his breath. He let his fingers graze the line of your jaw.

“And now, we shall retire for the night.”

You easily got up from his lap.

He adored watching how you fretted over your dress. Standing himself, he said easily pulled you close.

“I am grateful the gods brought us together. May they continue to bless the two of us in our coming union.”

“Yes. The gods have been kind, I send them my gratitude.”

*******

Geta, stopped and went to where he knew some bread was kept. With it in hand, he went over to alter for Vesta. Gathering, his clothes he knelt before. He was pleased to see the candles were alit and flickering. He ripped the pieces of the bread. He laid them down with lowered eyes and murmuring his appreciation of her and what she had planned for him and you.

Not long after he was pleased to see his guards were alert and stood, very straight outside the door of his chambers.

“Gallus. Can you go in and make sure no one is lurking in the shadows.”

“Yes, sire.”

*******

Once back in your room, you went to the window and knelt. Peering up at the crescent moon, you whispered your prayers to the powerful Luna, to grant you fertility in the coming marriage of Geta. You truly hoped you could take his seed. You laid a hand on your belly. Your imagination grew before you. A baby boy of his would look so beautiful. He would have his father’s strength.

Pleased with your prayers, you finally removed the pins and ribbons that held your hair in place. You placed them on the small table that also held your brush and strigil. In a transparent shift, you sighed as relaxation finally came over you. Going over to your bed, you pressed a kiss to the ring on your finger before crawling into the bed.

Moving till comfort finally found you, you let yourself melt into the blanket and pillow. Moments from the day shifted before you; the carriage ride to Dondas coming over to you and those last moments with Geta lingered. You could still feel his touch. With memory of him still fresh; sleep finally came over you.

******

Geta, glanced into his room as Gallus, walked in wide strides around the room. With a sharp turn, he came back to him.

“There is no one. May sleep bring the peace and rest that is needed.”

He nodded. “When the sky turns purple, please take some food and rest. I will want you near, later after the second meal.”

Gallus, clapped his chest and nodded. “Advised, sire.”

Once the door was closed, Geta relaxed. He stripper the last of his clothes. The cool air felt good on hid body. Walking to his balcony he looked out at the expanse of Rome, his Rome. He felt fantastic. Just as he was about to turn and retire to his bed. A flurry of feathers, black in nature settle near him. After some shaking and appearing to settle itself, he saw that it was a crow that had indeed decided to pay him a visit.

“Hello, mighty crow.” He tilted his head and looked at it. It did the same to him. He smiled and the crowd let out a loud cry.

“Thank you for your visit.” He paused, taking in the crow’s beauty. “I will show my gratitude and thankfulness at my alter.”

He glanced over at where he saw the crow, wanting to see it a final time and he did. He smiled. Shortly, afterward the crow shook its feathers and then easily took off into the night that was black as him. The moon barely gave any light tonight.

His excitement had calmed despite you so easily reigniting his passions. Lying down, echos of your pleasure echoed in his heart. You, were lovely and pleasing. You would give him the future of Rome that none other can give.

*******

You do not think there will ever be a day that passes, where you accustomed to life in the Domus of Geta and Caracalla. The bathing was just that more special with the oils that were so pleasing you felt as if you had become a flower yourself or how the ribbons, and curls were twined and twisted in your hair.

You paused by one of the larger columns, to take it all in. The sky was clear, sun’s warmth drifted in and the flowers that drew were flush with their freshness. Their scent making the air delightful. From where you hid, you watched people you had never even see before.

Taking a breath, you gathering yourself. Today was a new day, back in Rome. You could already feel how different it was from the country side.

Today, was your first day as the emperor’s betrothed. You had to take Aelia’s reassuring words given while she looped and twined your hair into a new look. You still did wonder where she had run off in such haste. Life was already so much busier here in Rome than in the country side.

Though, as you reflected back onto your betrothal with Geta, and your spirits already began to loft. It made any of your other thoughts of unease float away.

Feeling as a hand gave you the extra guidance you needed, you made your way to the Triclinium.

“My Blossom.” Geta stood from the sofa he had been reclining on, as you entered. A smile spread across his face.

He ushered you to the sofa beside him. “Plans are already being set in place.” He said once you sat down.

“Wonderful.”

A figure came in with a shadow shortly after you. You looked in the direction. It was Tertia, you had finally remembered her name. Your stomach knotted at the memory. Seeing her once again, did not bring you contentment.

Reaching, you grabbed a plush, and pleasing looking strawberry.

“Is there anything you wish to drink?” Her voice, intruded in your thoughts as you watched as she gave Geta his glass before turning her attention to you.

You were about to reply when Aelia, arrived. She looked flustered

“Yes, Aelia.” Geta took a sip from his glass. “Do you have news from any of the dispatches?”

“We have heard from your mother.” She turned and looked at you. You paused and didn’t take a second bite from strawberry you held. “Yes, we have heard from the village you were born in.”

Your heart quickened its pace.

@honey-eyed-munson @amethyst-serenade @screaming-blue-bagel @kitkat80 @blondie324 @alyisdead @hellomadamebutterfly @laura-naruto-fan1998 @helsa3942 @marrowfrog00 @misspendragonsworld @therealjomarch @deliciousfestsalad @justalittlebitshy @aspiringcokewhore

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[mcrdvcks]

i love you, always and forever ࿐‧₊ my girl, my man

chapter summary: You and Logan plan for your wedding.

word count: 9.9k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: i could've dragged out them getting engaged (i couldn't help myself) and i could've dragged out them finally getting married (i just couldn't help it😭).

also, i meant to post this a few hours ago, but i had a dentist appointment and the roads here in texas are awful. so, if you live in california, stay safe! and if you are in texas, stay warm! xoxo

(you can imagine whatever ring you'd like, but i got bored one day and searched around for a vintage ring so here's what it looks like)

warnings/tags: reader wears glasses, fluff, summer break, wedding, honeymoon

series masterlist - chapter 1 → chapter 3

“Do you think we’re missin’ something?” Jean wondered aloud.

Scott didn’t look up from his book, “about what?”

“About Y/N and—”

“Oh, yes. I thought I was the only one,” Ororo said, her tone carrying the faintest hint of amusement as she looked up from her book. She exchanged a knowing glance with Jean, who sat cross-legged on the couch across the room.

“Wait,” Jean said, closing the folder she’d been reviewing. “You’ve noticed it too?”

“Of course,” Ororo replied, leaning back in her chair with a small smirk. “It’s hard not to, the way Logan’s been acting.”

Scott finally looked up from his own book, his brow furrowed. “What are you two going on about?”

Jean rolled her eyes affectionately, setting the folder aside. “Come on, Scott. You must’ve noticed how Logan is with Y/N.”

“Not really,” Scott said with a shrug, earning an incredulous laugh from Jean.

“Men,” Ororo muttered under her breath, shaking her head. “He’s softer around her, more patient. Haven’t you seen the way he looks at her? It’s... different.”

Jean nodded, her expression thoughtful. “It’s not just that. It’s different than before. When me and Scott went to the store yesterday Logan asked for mango juice and yogurt-covered pretzels. Now who’s the only person we know who even likes those things?”

Ororo’s smirk grew. “Y/N.”

“Exactly,” Jean said, leaning forward. “I’m telling you, something’s shifted. They’ve always been close, but now? It’s like… there’s an extra layer to it.”

Ororo set her book aside, her tone teasing. “I’ve noticed other things too. She asked me for a bunch of yeast and some other ingredients last week—odd things for the lab. Then, two days later, she came by looking flustered, mumbling something about brewing beer. My guess? She’s making it for him.”

Jean grinned. “That sounds like her. She’s so shy about doing anything big, but she puts so much thought into the little things.”

Scott, still sitting with his arms crossed, frowned. “So, what? They’re dating. We all know that.”

“Yes, but this is different,” Jean insisted. “Logan’s been... softer, more relaxed. And Y/N? She’s been letting herself open up more. They’ve always had a connection, but this feels… more serious.”

Ororo nodded. “And the PDA. Don’t get me wrong, they’re not exactly hanging off each other in public, but it’s there. A little more than usual.”

Scott still didn’t look convinced. “I think you’re reading too much into this. Logan’s always been protective of her, and she’s been trying to come out of her shell. That doesn’t mean anything’s changed.”

Jean sighed, exchanging a look with Ororo. “You can be so dense sometimes, Scott.”

“Hey, I’m just saying! Logan’s Logan. He doesn’t strike me as the type to do anything halfway, but I’m not seeing what you two are apparently seeing.”

Ororo shrugged. “Give it time. You’ll notice eventually.”

---

Scott was heading down the main hall when he caught sight of Logan walking toward him. Logan had his usual brisk stride, but the large stack of magazines in his arms gave Scott pause.

“Logan,” Scott called, stepping into his path. “What’s with the reading material?”

Logan slowed to a stop, glancing down at the stack in his arms. Bridal magazines, at least half a dozen of them, with glossy covers featuring elaborate white dresses and floral arrangements.

He barely missed a beat. “For the fire,” Logan said gruffly, his tone so deadpan it took Scott a moment to respond.

“For the fire?” Scott echoed, his brow furrowing.

“Yeah. Fireplace needs kindling,” Logan replied, his expression unreadable as he shifted the magazines under one arm.

Before Scott could press further, Jean approached, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of the magazines. “Logan, is that…?”

“Magazines,” Logan cut in, his voice low. “For the fire. Don’t read into it.”

Jean’s lips twitched, barely holding back a smile. “Uh-huh.”

Logan let out a low grunt, clearly uninterested in continuing the conversation, and walked off without another word, leaving Jean and Scott standing in the hall.

Jean turned to Scott, her eyebrows raised. “Still think we’re imagining things?”

Scott glanced back at Logan’s retreating figure, the bridal magazines tucked under his arm. “…Okay, maybe something is going on.”

Jean smirked. “Told you.”

---

You rolled out from under the Blackbird with wire cutters laying on your stomach and an electric screwdriver in your hand. “Alright, fixed it. Still don’t know why you couldn’t ask Scott.”

Jean rolled her eyes, “I did. And he said ‘later’. It’s been 4 days.”

You gave her a small smile. “Figures.”

Sliding the wire cutters onto the small tool tray beside you, you sat up, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. Jean crouched down next to you, handing over a clean rag.

“Thanks,” you said, taking it to wipe the faint smudge of grease off your arms.

“Not bad for a physics professor,” Jean teased, her tone warm.

You shrugged, pulling off the gloves with a small tug. “I’ve picked up a few things here and there.”

Ororo, perched nearby with her arms crossed and a bemused expression, added, “If you weren’t so dedicated to teaching, I’d say you might have a future in mechanics.”

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “I’ll leave the big repairs to Hank. I just know enough to get by.”

As you spoke, you folded the gloves neatly and set them on the tray. That’s when Jean’s eyes caught something—a glint of light on your left hand.

Her brow furrowed slightly as she tilted her head. “Y/N… is that—?”

You glanced at her, confused for a moment, before realizing what had caught her attention. Your engagement ring, a delicate band with an antique setting, was visible now that the gloves were off.

“Oh,” you said softly, instinctively touching the ring with your thumb. A shy smile tugged at your lips.

Jean’s eyes widened, a mix of surprise and delight flashing across her face. “Wait a second. When did this happen?”

Ororo stepped closer, her curiosity piqued. “What’s she talking about?”

Jean pointed at your hand. “Look at her ring finger.”

Ororo’s gaze followed, and her eyebrows lifted. “Well, well, well. I didn’t realize we had a bride-to-be among us.”

Your cheeks warmed under their scrutiny. “It’s… recent,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jean’s grin grew as she leaned in, her tone playful. “And by ‘recent,’ you mean…?”

“Two… maybe three weeks,” you said, trying not to squirm under her gaze.

Ororo let out a low whistle. “And you didn’t tell us?”

You looked between the two of them, your fingers fiddling with the ring. “We weren’t keeping it a secret. It just… hasn’t come up.”

Jean crossed her arms, clearly unconvinced. “Hasn’t come up? You’ve been engaged for weeks, and none of us noticed?”

You bit your lip, feeling a mix of nervousness and amusement. “Well… Logan and I aren’t exactly the ‘big announcement’ type.”

Ororo chuckled. “That, I believe. But still, congratulations are in order. It’s beautiful, Y/N.”

Jean nodded, her eyes softening as she looked at you. “It really is. And it suits you.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, glancing at the ring again. Despite the attention, there was a quiet happiness bubbling inside you.

Jean gave you a knowing look. “So… when were you planning on telling the rest of us? Or were we just supposed to figure it out on our own?”

“I wasn’t sure how to bring it up,” you admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “And Logan—well, you know how he is.”

Jean laughed. “Yeah, I can imagine his reaction to a big group toast.” She put on a gruff voice, imitating him. “‘No need to make a fuss.’”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Exactly.”

Ororo smiled warmly, her teasing tone softening. “Well, fuss or no fuss, we’re happy for you. And you better let us know if there’s a wedding date.”

“Of course,” you promised, the warmth in their voices making you feel more at ease.

Jean reached over, giving your hand a quick squeeze. “Congratulations, Y/N. You two deserve this.”

“Thanks,” you said again, this time with more confidence.

Before the conversation could go any further, Logan’s voice carried down the hall. “Darlin’? You done with the jet?”

You turned toward the sound, seeing him leaning casually in the doorway. His usual gruff expression softened as his eyes met yours.

“Yeah, all set,” you called back, standing and brushing off your jeans.

Logan gave a small nod but didn’t move, his gaze lingering on you in that way that made your heart flutter.

Jean smirked, glancing at Ororo. “And there he is.”

“Don’t,” you muttered under your breath, feeling your cheeks flush again.

Ororo laughed softly, but neither she nor Jean said anything more. As you walked toward Logan, you caught the amused glances they exchanged, but you didn’t mind.

Logan met you halfway, his hand resting briefly on your lower back as you joined him. “Ready to head in?”

“Yeah,” you said, the warmth of his touch grounding you.

As the two of you walked away, you could still hear Jean and Ororo chuckling behind you, but Logan didn’t ask, and you didn’t offer an explanation. Some things were just better left between the two of you.

---

“Please?” you said, drawing the word out with an exaggerated pout as you held up the scissors, comb, and spray bottle. Your tone was teasing, but your eyes carried a hopeful glint.

Logan crossed his arms, his expression skeptical. “Darlin’, I’m tellin’ ya, it’s fine. It doesn’t need fixin’.”

You arched a brow, stepping closer. “Logan, it’s summer, and your hair’s gettin’ way too long in the back. I’m not saying you need a whole new look, just a trim.”

He gave a low grunt, clearly unconvinced, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “I’ve been dealin’ with this hair longer than you’ve been alive. It’s manageable.”

“Sure it is,” you said, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “But wouldn’t it be more manageable if it wasn’t sticking out at weird angles?”

Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you said sweetly.

He stared at you for a long moment before shaking his head. “Alright, fine. But on one condition.”

Your eyes lit up. “Name it.”

A slow, mischievous grin spread across his face. “We do it outside, and you sit on my lap while you’re at it.”

Your cheeks immediately warmed, and you stared at him, wide-eyed. “Logan,” you began, your voice dropping in embarrassment.

“What?” he said with a smirk. “You wanted this, didn’t ya? Gotta make it worth my while.”

You huffed, but your lips quirked up in a small smile despite your best efforts. “Fine,” you said, trying to sound exasperated. “But don’t blame me if you end up with a lopsided cut.”

Logan chuckled, his hand settling on your lower back as he guided you toward the back patio. The warm summer air greeted you as the two of you stepped outside. The mansion’s sprawling yard stretched out around you, the sun casting a golden glow over the lawn and the distant trees.

Logan grabbed one of the sturdy wooden chairs from the patio table and plopped down, spreading his legs slightly as he leaned back with a lazy grin. He patted his thigh. “Hop on.”

You hesitated for a moment, glancing around to make sure no one else was nearby. Though Logan wasn’t shy about showing affection, you were still getting used to moments like this. When the coast was clear, you let out a breath and moved to sit sideways on his lap. He shook his head, catching your waist and turning you so you straddled him instead.

“There,” he said, his voice low and pleased. “Much better.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips as you picked up the spray bottle and gave his hair a quick spritz. He leaned back, his hands resting casually on your hips while you combed through his damp locks.

“You know,” you said, keeping your tone light as you snipped at the ends, “this is kind of nice. Just us, the fresh air…”

Logan’s lips quirked. “Don’t get too used to it, darlin’. This is a one-time deal.”

“Sure it is,” you teased, snipping another section. “I’ll remind you of that next time your hair gets out of control.”

He gave a low chuckle, and you felt his thumb brush lightly against your side. It was such a small, unconscious gesture, but it sent a warm flutter through your chest. You leaned in a little closer, focusing on your task.

“Y/N!” Jean’s voice rang out from somewhere near the house, and your head whipped up in alarm. “Have you seen—oh.”

Jean rounded the corner, her steps slowing as she took in the sight of you perched on Logan’s lap, scissors in hand. Her lips twitched, clearly fighting a grin. “Am I interrupting something?”

You felt your cheeks flame, and you tried to slide off Logan’s lap, but his hands on your hips held you firmly in place. “Jean,” you said, your voice higher-pitched than usual. “I was just… cutting Logan’s hair.”

“Right,” Jean said, crossing her arms and giving you a knowing look. “Because clearly, that’s the only thing happening here.”

Logan, unbothered, smirked up at her. “You need somethin’, Red?”

Jean waved a hand dismissively. “Nope, nothing that can’t wait. Carry on.” She turned to leave but not before shooting you a wink over her shoulder. “Nice technique, Y/N.”

“Jean!” you called after her, but she was already walking away, laughing softly to herself.

You groaned, covering your face with one hand. Logan’s chest rumbled with laughter beneath you.

“Relax, darlin’. Let her have her fun.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, narrowing your eyes. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted with a grin, his hands squeezing your waist gently. “But hey, you wanted to do this, remember?”

You sighed, but a reluctant smile tugged at your lips as you went back to trimming. “I’m never living this down, am I?”

“Not a chance,” Logan said, his voice warm and full of affection.

---

Logan reached his hand out haphazardly to close the bedroom door, the motion almost careless in his urgency. His other hand remained firmly planted on your lower back, guiding you with surprising gentleness as your lips stayed locked.

The click of the door shutting barely registered before he backed you into the wall, his movements smooth and deliberate. You gasped softly against his mouth, one of your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair while the other found its way to the back of his neck.

“Logan,” you murmured breathlessly, breaking the kiss for a moment, your lips brushing against his as you spoke.

“What?” His voice was low, a rough edge of amusement to it as his lips sought yours again. “You’re the one who started this, sweetheart.”

Your laughter bubbled up, light and almost involuntary. “I did not—”

“Oh, you absolutely did,” he teased, his hands settling more firmly on your hips. He nipped at your bottom lip before pulling back just enough to look at you, his grin mischievous. “You looked at me like that, darlin’. Don’t blame me for followin’ through.”

A flush spread across your cheeks, but you couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped you as he leaned in again, capturing your lips in another kiss. This one was slower, softer, but still filled with the same electric energy that seemed to hum between the two of you whenever you were close.

You tightened your arms around his shoulders, fingers pressing lightly into his skin. He grunted softly, the sound half amusement, half approval, before his hands slid down to the backs of your thighs.

“C’mere,” he muttered, his voice husky as he gripped you firmly and lifted you effortlessly. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and he pinned you against the wall more securely, his body pressed warm and solid against yours.

“Logan!” you squeaked, a mix of laughter and surprise in your tone. “You’re gonna drop me.”

He smirked, his lips brushing along your jaw before he kissed the corner of your mouth. “I’ve got you,” he said, his tone low but teasing. “When are you gonna figure that out, huh?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could, the lights in the room flickered and then went out completely, plunging everything into sudden darkness.

You gasped softly, instinctively tightening your hold on Logan. “What just—?”

“Power’s out,” he muttered, his tone shifting to mild annoyance. He pulled back just enough for you to feel his breath against your skin. “Perfect timing.”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you, the absurdity of the situation cutting through the moment’s intensity. “Guess the mansion’s old wiring isn’t built for summer storms.”

“Guess not,” he grumbled, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you said softly, smiling despite yourself. “But we might want to move before someone walks in on this.”

He chuckled, his hands still steady beneath you as he adjusted his grip. “I don’t care who walks in. Let ‘em.”

“Logan,” you groaned, but you couldn’t hide the grin in your voice. “Don’t even joke about that.”

He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before pulling back with a smirk. “Alright, alright. Let’s get you down.”

He set you on your feet gently, his hands lingering on your hips for a moment longer before stepping back. Even in the dim lighting, you could see the playful glint in his eyes.

“Maybe we finish this later,” he said, his voice low and warm.

You nodded, biting your lip to suppress another smile. “Maybe.”

As you both moved to find a flashlight, the sound of voices and footsteps echoed faintly down the hall. The chaos of the power outage was clearly drawing everyone out of their rooms, and you shot Logan a knowing look.

“See?” you whispered, smirking. “Someone was bound to walk in.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but the small, satisfied smile on his face told you he wasn’t too worried about it.

---

You might’ve gotten a bit carried away looking at magazines instead of working on your research. The lab was quiet, save for the soft hum of equipment, and you’d tucked yourself into a corner with a stack of physics journals. But one wedding magazine Logan had given you sat on top of your pile, its glossy pages begging to be flipped through. Before you knew it, you were lost in images of lace trains and intricate veils, your fingers idly twisting a strand of hair.

“Hmm, wedding dresses?”

Jean’s teasing voice pulled you from your daydream. You jumped, snapping the magazine shut and turning red. “Jean! I—uh, it’s not what it looks like. I was just…taking a break.”

Jean smirked, plucking the magazine from your hands. She flipped it open to a page you’d dog-eared. “Sure, just a break,” she said, her tone laced with playful skepticism. “You’ve already got a few favorites marked. This one’s beautiful,” she added, pointing to a gown with delicate floral embroidery.

You pushed your glasses up nervously. “I mean, yeah, but it’s too soon, right? Logan and I haven’t even set a date yet…”

Jean ignored your protests, holding up the magazine like it was her life’s mission. “Nonsense. Come on, let’s go into town and try some on.”

Your eyes widened. “Try them on? Jean, no—I couldn’t! What if someone sees? What if—”

“Relax,” she said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “It’s summer break, most of the students are gone, and you deserve a little fun. Besides,” her lips quirked in a knowing smile, “Logan gave you this magazine for a reason. You think he’d mind?”

You hesitated, torn between your shy instincts and Jean’s infectious enthusiasm. Finally, you relented. “Fine. But just for fun.”

---

The bridal boutique was a cozy, sunlit space tucked away on a quiet street. Jean wasted no time pulling dresses from the racks while you lingered nervously near the dressing rooms.

“This one,” Jean said, holding up a sleek satin gown, “or this one?” She gestured to a gown with layers of delicate tulle.

“They’re both gorgeous,” you said, shifting on your feet, “but maybe too much for me…”

Jean rolled her eyes. “You’re the bride! There’s no such thing as ‘too much.’ Now, go try these on.”

The first dress was beautiful but too heavy, and the second didn’t quite feel like you. By the third, you found yourself laughing at Jean’s exaggerated commentary.

“Okay, but look at this!” she said, adjusting the train. “You could glide down the aisle like a queen.”

“Jean,” you giggled, shaking your head, “I think I’d trip over this and take Logan down with me.”

After an hour, you still hadn’t found ‘the one,’ but the experience left you feeling lighter. “Thank you,” you said as the two of you walked back to the car. “That was actually…fun.”

Jean grinned. “Told you. And now we know what styles you like. We’ll find it when the time’s right.”

---

Back at the mansion, Logan was leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping a beer, when you walked in. He raised an eyebrow at your slightly disheveled appearance. “Where’d you two run off to?”

Jean, smirking, answered before you could. “Tried on wedding dresses.” Logan’s gaze immediately snapped to you, and his lips twitched into a small smile. Jean patted your arm. “I’ll leave you two to it,” she said, disappearing down the hall.

You shifted nervously, tugging at your sleeves. “It was her idea,” you blurted out, feeling the need to explain. “I wasn’t—well, I mean, we didn’t find anything. And it’s probably too soon anyway, right? We don’t have a date or a venue or—”

“Darlin’.” Logan’s deep voice cut through your rambling. He stepped closer, his hands gently settling on your arms. “You don’t have to plan every detail right now.”

You looked up at him, your cheeks warm. “But—”

He shook his head, a rare softness in his expression. “I don’t care what you wear or where it happens. Hell, we could go to a courthouse tomorrow and sign the damn papers for all I care.” His voice dipped, quiet and rough with emotion. “I’m just happy I finally get to marry you.”

His words hit you like a wave, their weight sinking in as you stared at him. “Logan…” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He cupped your cheek, brushing his thumb gently over your skin. “What matters is you, sweetheart. That’s it.”

Your chest tightened, a mix of overwhelming love and relief bubbling up. You leaned into his touch, a small, teary smile breaking through. “Okay,” you murmured, resting your forehead against his. “I guess I can live with that.”

“Good,” he said, his lips quirking into a smirk. “Because you’re already perfect to me.”

---

This was a mistake.

One big, grand mistake.

Your chest heaved as you bent down with your hands on your knees, sweat dripping down your back. The morning sun filtered through the high windows of the mansion’s gym, but it offered no comfort. You were a mess—hair sticking to your face, glasses fogged up, and your lungs protesting every second of this so-called ‘workout.’

“This,” you panted, glaring at Logan, “was a mistake.”

Logan smirked, unbothered as he stood nearby, arms crossed over his broad chest. He was barely sweating, his usual tank top clinging just enough to show off his ridiculous muscles. “You’re the one who said you wanted to get stronger.”

“I didn’t know you’d try to kill me,” you shot back, collapsing onto a nearby mat. Your legs were jelly, your pride in shambles, and Logan looked way too amused.

He sauntered over, grabbing a towel from the bench. “You’re not dead,” he said casually. “You’re just outta shape.”

You groaned, throwing an arm over your face. “You’ve been alive for 100-something-years or whatever. Cut me some slack.”

“That’s not how it works, darlin’.” His voice was teasing, but there was a hint of warmth beneath it. He crouched next to you, the scent of his woodsy cologne mixed with sweat making your stomach flutter. “You gotta keep at it.”

You peeked out from under your arm, watching as he leaned closer. Logan reached out with the towel, gently wiping your forehead. “Thanks,” you mumbled, your cheeks heating from more than just exertion.

He didn’t stop there. The towel traveled down to your neck, then lower, dabbing at the sweat gathering at your collarbone. You tried not to squirm, but when he moved to the beginnings of your cleavage with a cheeky smirk, you slapped his hand away.

“Logan!” you hissed, sitting up abruptly, your face now definitely on fire.

“What?” he asked, his expression the picture of innocence. “Just helpin’ out.”

You glared at him, but the effect was ruined by the smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “You’re impossible.”

He shrugged, tossing the towel over his shoulder and standing up. “Yeah, but you love me.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t argue with that. “I’m never working out with you again,” you grumbled as you stood, wobbling slightly.

“Sure you are.” Logan’s hand shot out to steady you, his grip firm but gentle. “You just need the right motivation.”

“And what’s that supposed to be?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

He leaned in, his voice dropping to that gravelly tone that always made your heart skip. “Maybe I’ll tell ya if you survive the next session.”

You groaned, pushing past him toward the water cooler. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” he called after you, his laughter echoing in the gym. “You love me, remember?”

You muttered something under your breath that made him chuckle even harder, but despite your protests, you couldn’t stop the small smile from forming as you took a long sip of water. Maybe—just maybe—you’d let him drag you back here again. But next time, you were bringing Jean for backup.

---

“How did venue hunting go?” Jean asked, walking into the foyer where you and Logan just entered.

You let out a huff as you took off your jacket, your purse and notebook in Logan’s hands. He responded for you, “none of ‘em fit her standards.”

The jacket was draped over your arm as you snatched the notebook out of Logan’s hands. “They’re not high standards,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him.

Logan shrugged, clearly unimpressed. “Looked like every venue had a list of what they didn’t have instead of what they did.”

“That’s not true!” You flipped open the notebook, pages filled with scribbles, sticky notes, and circled bullet points. “I just want a place that works for everyone. Is that too much to ask?”

Jean smirked from where she leaned against the foyer wall. “Define ‘works for everyone.’”

You gestured with the notebook, tapping on your list. “It has to be wheelchair accessible for Charles. Child-friendly because the students will want to attend. Not too stuffy, so Logan doesn’t feel out of place—”

“Darlin’, I’m out of place everywhere,” Logan cut in with a smirk.

You ignored him, continuing, “And not too far from the mansion so the team can help in case of emergencies. Oh, and it has to have enough space for dancing, good acoustics, a separate area for food—”

“You’re planning a wedding or a state summit?” Logan teased.

Jean stifled a laugh, clearly enjoying the exchange. “She’s just thorough, Logan. You should’ve seen her face when one venue didn’t have a backup generator.”

“Backup generator? For a wedding?” Logan raised an eyebrow at you.

“Have you met us?” you shot back. “I’m not risking a power outage in the middle of the first dance.”

Jean laughed outright this time, shaking her head. “I think you’ve got your work cut out for you, Logan.”

“I always do,” Logan muttered under his breath, smirking when you swatted his arm.

“Don’t act like you’re suffering,” you said, rolling your eyes as you headed toward the living room. Logan followed, still grinning. Jean waved you off with a knowing smile before disappearing toward the kitchen.

---

A few days later, you sat cross-legged on the couch in the mansion’s common area, surrounded by more open notebooks and wedding magazines. The team buzzed around you as usual, some heading out for training while others settled in for their break. Logan strolled in, a beer in hand, and plopped down beside you.

“Still at it?” he asked, glancing at the scattered mess.

You sighed, closing one of the notebooks with a soft thud. “We’re not getting anywhere. Nothing feels right.”

Logan leaned back, taking a swig of his beer. “Then stop lookin’ so hard.”

“Easy for you to say,” you muttered. “You’re not the one trying to make sure everyone’s happy.”

“Darlin’, nobody cares where it happens. They care about you.” His tone softened as he reached over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Hell, we could do it right here, and it’d still be perfect.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Here? At the mansion?”

“Why not?” he said with a shrug. “Big lawn, plenty of space, and it’s already home for most of us.”

You hesitated, glancing around the room. “It’s… not the worst idea.”

“‘Not the worst’ is high praise coming from you,” Logan teased, earning him a half-hearted glare.

“I just mean…” You bit your lip, considering it. “Who would even decorate?”

At that moment, Rogue walked by, arms full of laundry. Logan raised his voice without missing a beat. “Hey, Rogue! You feel like decorating for a wedding?”

Rogue paused, glancing between the two of you. “Uh… sure? What kinda wedding?”

Logan smirked, gesturing toward you. “Ours.”

Her face lit up. “Oh my God! Yeah, totally! I’ll get Kitty and Jubilee to help. We’ll make it look amazing.”

You blinked, overwhelmed by how quickly she agreed. “Wait—are you sure?”

“Course I’m sure!” Rogue said, beaming. “This is gonna be fun.”

As she hurried off, Logan leaned closer, his smirk widening. “See? Problem solved.”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you love me,” he said, pulling you into his side.

You didn’t bother arguing. Instead, you rested your head on his shoulder, letting yourself imagine it: the mansion’s lawn, your friends and family, and Logan waiting for you at the end of the aisle. For the first time in weeks, the thought of your wedding didn’t feel overwhelming—it felt like home.

---

This was officially your third time going wedding dress shopping, and this time Ororo had tagged along with Jean, who had practically dragged you out of the mansion with a determined look in her eyes. The three of you entered the boutique, greeted by racks of pristine white fabric, sparkling embellishments, and soft lighting that screamed bridal fantasy.

You adjusted your glasses nervously, clutching your notebook against your chest as Jean grinned at you. “This is it,” she said confidently. “Third time’s the charm.”

Ororo gave you a calm, reassuring smile. “No pressure, Y/N. Let’s just have fun with it.”

You exhaled a little laugh. “Easier said than done. Every dress I’ve tried on feels…wrong.”

Jean looped her arm through yours. “That’s because you’re overthinking it. Trust me, when you find the one, you’ll just know.”

The three of you wandered through the racks, pulling out dresses and debating the merits of lace versus satin, mermaid cuts versus A-line. Jean’s enthusiasm was contagious, and even Ororo—usually so composed—couldn’t resist chiming in with the occasional suggestion.

“I think Logan would like something simple,” Ororo said, holding up a sleek gown with minimal embellishments.

Jean snorted. “Logan would think she’s perfect in anything. He’d probably prefer she showed up in her lab coat.”

You flushed at the thought, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “He’s… not that bad.”

Jean raised an eyebrow. “Y/N, he kissed you in front of half the team last week just because you brought him a sandwich.”

“That was not—it was just a kiss on the cheek!” you protested, but your voice wavered.

Ororo chuckled, her eyes sparkling. “A lingering kiss on the cheek. We all saw it.”

You buried your face in your hands, groaning. “I’m going to die of embarrassment before this wedding even happens.”

Jean patted your shoulder. “If you survive Logan’s public displays of affection, you’ll survive anything.”

The teasing made you relax a little, and you found yourself smiling as the three of you continued browsing. Eventually, the shop assistant approached, her cheerful demeanor instantly putting you at ease.

“Looking for something specific?” she asked.

You hesitated. “Not really. I just…want something that feels like me.”

She nodded knowingly and began pulling a few options. One by one, you tried them on, stepping out to show Jean and Ororo each time. They offered their opinions—Jean was quick with compliments, while Ororo provided thoughtful feedback—but none of the dresses felt quite right.

Until the assistant brought out a gown you hadn’t noticed before.

It was displayed at the back of the boutique, almost tucked away as if it were waiting for someone to find it. The assistant carefully removed it from the rack and carried it over to you with a soft smile.

“This one just came in,” she explained, holding it up. The gown was breathtaking: an off-shoulder silhouette with intricate lace detailing across the bodice and delicate long sleeves. The fabric flowed into a soft, sheer train, giving it an ethereal, timeless feel.

Your breath hitched. “It’s beautiful.”

Jean’s eyes widened as she took in the dress. “Y/N, you have to try that on.”

Even Ororo, usually more reserved with her reactions, gave an approving nod. “It’s stunning. I think it might be the one.”

You hesitated, running your fingers over the delicate lace. “What if it doesn’t fit?”

Jean rolled her eyes, grabbing your shoulders and steering you toward the dressing room. “That’s what fittings are for. Go try it on. Now.”

The assistant ushered you into the dressing room, helping you into the gown. The fabric was soft against your skin, and as she adjusted the zipper, you caught your reflection in the mirror. For the first time, you felt… right.

“Ready?” the assistant asked with a knowing smile.

You nodded, stepping out tentatively. Jean and Ororo were mid-conversation but stopped as soon as they saw you.

“Oh. My. God,” Jean whispered, standing up. “Y/N, you look—wow.”

Ororo smiled warmly. “It’s perfect.”

You turned toward the mirror at the end of the room, your heart racing as you took in the sight. The dress hugged you in all the right places, the off-shoulder design framing your collarbones elegantly. The lace sleeves felt delicate but strong, and the train flowed behind you like a whisper.

“Do you think Logan will like it?” you asked softly, fidgeting with the edge of the lace.

Jean laughed, stepping beside you. “Y/N, Logan would probably think you look perfect in a potato sack. But this? He’s going to lose his mind.”

Ororo tilted her head, considering. “It suits you. It’s elegant but understated. Timeless.”

You blinked back the sudden sting of tears, overwhelmed by how right it felt. “I think… this is it.”

Jean grinned, squeezing your hand. “Finally! I told you third time’s the charm.”

The assistant beamed. “I’ll get the paperwork started and schedule a fitting to tailor it to perfection.”

As she walked away, Jean leaned closer, a mischievous glint in her eye. “So, how long do you think it’ll take Logan to rip this off you after the wedding?”

“Jean!” you squeaked, your cheeks flushing.

Ororo chuckled, shaking her head. “Some things never change.”

You buried your face in your hands, muttering, “Why did I agree to this?”

“Because you love us,” Jean teased, looping her arm through yours. “And because you knew we’d find you the perfect dress. Which we did.”

You couldn’t argue with that. For the first time since you’d started planning the wedding, you felt a sense of peace. This was happening. This was real. And you couldn’t wait to walk down the aisle and see Logan’s face when he saw you in this dress.

---

Later that evening, you were back at the mansion, lounging on the couch in the common room with a cup of tea. The dress was safely tucked away, but the memory of it lingered, making you smile softly to yourself.

Logan strolled in, fresh from a workout, a towel slung over his shoulder. He spotted you immediately, his brow quirking at your dreamy expression.

“What’s got you smilin’ like that, sweetheart?” he asked, dropping down onto the couch beside you.

You shook your head, trying to hide your grin. “Nothing.”

He gave you a look, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Nothin’, huh? That doesn’t sound suspicious at all.”

You rolled your eyes, but your blush gave you away. “Fine. I found the dress.”

Logan’s eyebrows shot up, and he leaned back, taking a long look at you. “Yeah? You happy with it?”

You nodded, the smile returning. “I think so. It feels… perfect.”

His expression softened, and he reached over, brushing a thumb along your cheek. “Good. That’s all that matters.”

For a moment, the two of you just sat there, the hum of the mansion in the background. Logan’s hand found yours, his rough fingers threading through yours gently.

“You’re sure you’re okay with the mansion for the wedding?” you asked, breaking the silence.

He chuckled. “Darlin’, as long as you’re the one walkin’ toward me, I don’t care if it’s in a field, a church, or a damn parking lot.”

You laughed softly, leaning into his side. “I’m holding you to that.”

“Hold me to whatever you want,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

And in that moment, surrounded by the comfort of Logan’s presence and the thought of your future together, you couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.

---

It was three weeks away from the start of the new school year when the wedding took place. At first, you were checking on everyone—Rogue to make sure that her, Kitty, and Jubilee were making progress with the decorations outside, and on Scott and Hank who were somehow tasked with food.

At least, until Logan noticed and locked you in the makeshift bridal suite.

Jean was laughing as she turned the key in the lock, leaning against the door while you protested from the other side. “This is for your own good, Y/N! You need to relax. Everything’s under control.”

“Jean!” you called, rattling the doorknob, though your voice lacked any real anger. “I just want to check on the decorations one more time!”

“Nope,” Jean replied cheerfully through the door. “Logan’s orders. He said, and I quote, ‘she’s gonna drive herself crazy. Lock her in if you have to.’”

You groaned, leaning your forehead against the door. “I’m not crazy.”

Jean’s voice softened. “Y/N, everything’s perfect. Trust us, okay? You’ve done enough. Now let us take care of the rest.”

Ororo’s calm voice chimed in from somewhere in the room. “She’s right, you know. The decorations look beautiful. Jubilee and Kitty outdid themselves. And Scott and Hank are handling the food just fine.”

You sighed, finally stepping away from the door. “Fine. But only because I’m outnumbered.”

Jean unlocked the door and peeked her head in, grinning. “That’s the spirit.” She stepped inside, followed by Ororo, who carried a garment bag carefully over her arm. “Now, let’s focus on the fun part: getting you ready.”

You couldn’t help but smile as Ororo unzipped the bag, revealing your wedding dress. The sight of it still took your breath away. The off-shoulder gown with intricate lace detailing and long sleeves was everything you’d dreamed of, and you felt a little thrill of excitement knowing you’d soon be wearing it.

Jean gestured for you to sit down in front of the vanity, where she had already laid out an array of makeup and hair tools. “Okay, here’s the plan: Ororo’s on hair, and I’ll handle your makeup. By the time we’re done, Logan’s gonna lose his mind.”

You laughed softly, settling into the chair. “He’d better not. I don’t want him passing out before the ceremony.”

Ororo chuckled as she began gently brushing through your hair. “I think Logan’s been ready for this day since the moment he met you.”

Jean smiled warmly, her hands deftly organizing the makeup. “He really has. It’s sweet, actually. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy.”

Your cheeks flushed at their words, but you couldn’t deny the warmth spreading through your chest. Logan had been a constant in your life, his gruff exterior hiding a heart that had always been devoted to you. The thought of him waiting for you at the end of the aisle made your nerves fade, replaced by anticipation.

“Okay, close your eyes,” Jean instructed, and you obeyed, letting her work her magic. The soft strokes of the brush and the hum of conversation between her and Ororo were soothing, and for the first time all day, you felt yourself relaxing.

By the time they were finished, you barely recognized yourself in the mirror. Your hair was styled in soft waves, pinned delicately to one side with small, sparkling clips. Jean’s makeup was subtle but elegant, enhancing your features without overwhelming them. You looked… radiant.

“Wow,” you breathed, turning your head slightly to take it all in. “You two are amazing.”

Jean grinned, squeezing your shoulder. “We aim to please.”

Ororo helped you into your dress, carefully fastening the buttons along the back. Once the gown was in place, she stepped back, her smile warm and approving. “You’re ready, Y/N.”

You turned to face the full-length mirror, your breath catching at the sight. The dress fit perfectly, the lace shimmering softly in the light. It was everything you’d hoped for and more.

Jean wiped at the corner of her eye dramatically. “I’m not crying. You’re crying.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Thank you, both of you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Ororo placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “That’s what friends are for.”

There was a knock at the door, and Rogue’s voice called out. “Y/N? It’s time.”

Your heart skipped a beat as Jean and Ororo exchanged excited smiles. Ororo grabbed your bouquet, a beautiful arrangement of white roses and greenery, and handed it to you. “Let’s get you married.”

The three of you made your way downstairs, the sound of soft music drifting through the mansion. The transformation of the lawn was breathtaking. Rows of chairs lined the grass, adorned with white ribbons and small floral arrangements. An archway covered in more roses stood at the end of the aisle, with Charles waiting beneath it, his wheelchair positioned just so.

And there, standing at the end of the aisle, was Logan. Dressed in a sharp black suit, he looked both rugged and unbearably handsome, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your breath catch. He looked as though nothing else in the world existed but you.

Jean gave your hand a squeeze before stepping aside to join Scott, and Ororo took her place with the other bridesmaids. Rogue beamed at you as she adjusted your train one last time. “Go get him, girl.”

You took a deep breath, your fingers tightening around your bouquet, and then you began to walk. The world seemed to blur around you, the murmurs of the guests fading into the background as Logan’s gaze held yours. Every step brought you closer to him, to the life you were about to begin together.

When you reached the end of the aisle, Logan took your hand, his grip warm and steady. He leaned in slightly, his voice low but filled with emotion. “You’re beautiful, darlin’.”

Your cheeks flushed, but you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

Logan’s mouth quirked into a soft smirk, but there was an unmistakable warmth in his eyes. “Didn’t want to embarrass you, darlin’. Figured I’d at least try to look the part.”

You chuckled softly, feeling the nerves melt away now that you were standing in front of him. “You look perfect.”

Logan reached up, his hand brushing lightly over yours where you gripped the bouquet. “Not as perfect as you.”

Before you could respond, Charles cleared his throat gently, his voice calm but filled with quiet authority. “Shall we begin?”

Logan’s hand tightened just slightly on yours as you both turned toward Charles, who was seated in his wheelchair beneath the archway. Behind him, the soft rustling of leaves and the faint hum of summer added a serene backdrop to the moment.

Charles’s expression was serene as he looked between you and Logan. “Today is a celebration—not only of love but of the journey that brought these two together. A journey that, I suspect, was not without its share of challenges.” His eyes twinkled with a hint of knowing, though he didn’t elaborate. “Yet here you stand, hand in hand, ready to face the future together.”

Logan’s thumb rubbed gently over the back of your hand, a quiet reassurance. You glanced up at him and found his gaze still fixed on you, steady and unshakable. It was as if the entire world could collapse around you, and Logan wouldn’t notice or care as long as you were by his side.

Charles continued, his tone gentle and deliberate. “Marriage is not just a bond but a partnership. It is built on trust, respect, and an unyielding commitment to each other. And, knowing the two of you as I do, I have no doubt that your bond is as strong as the adamantium in Logan’s skeleton.”

That earned a quiet chuckle from the guests, even Logan’s lips twitching into a smirk. You felt the corners of your mouth lift too, though your heart was pounding in your chest. Charles’s words resonated deeply, a reminder of everything you and Logan had been through to reach this moment.

Charles’s gaze softened as he addressed Logan. “Logan, do you take Y/N to be your wife? To stand by her side through every challenge, to share in her joys, and to love her fiercely for as long as you live?”

Logan didn’t hesitate for a second. “I do.”

The firmness in his voice sent a shiver through you. There was no doubt, no reservation—just pure, unwavering certainty.

Charles turned his attention to you, his expression kind. “And Y/N, do you take Logan to be your husband? To stand by his side through every challenge, to share in his joys, and to love him fiercely for as long as you live?”

Your voice came out soft but steady, the words carrying every ounce of truth you felt. “I do.”

Charles nodded, his hands resting on the arms of his wheelchair. “By the power vested in me and with the love and support of everyone here, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Logan, you may kiss the bride.”

Logan didn’t need to be told twice. He stepped closer, his hands finding your waist as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and filled with passion. The cheers and applause from the guests barely registered as you melted into him, the world fading away until it was just the two of you.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his voice low and gruff but filled with emotion. “We did it, sweetheart.”

You smiled, your fingers brushing over the lapels of his suit jacket. “We did.”

The applause grew louder as Logan took your hand, turning to face the guests. You caught sight of Jean wiping her eyes dramatically, grinning as Scott shook his head in amusement. Ororo and Rogue both looked radiant, their smiles wide as they joined the applause.

As the two of you made your way down the aisle, Logan’s hand never left yours, his grip steady and reassuring. The world felt brighter, lighter, as if every piece had finally fallen into place. You were married.

---

You walked with your eyes closed, your fingers intertwined with Logan's as he guided you through the bustling streets of Paris. The sounds of the city surrounded you—the distant hum of cars, the chatter of people, and the occasional soft clink of a café cup—but it all felt muffled, as if the world was holding its breath for the moment you’d finally open your eyes.

Logan’s grip on your hand was steady, comforting. It was an anchor, reminding you that this moment, this moment with him, was real. His voice, gruff yet affectionate, came from just above you. “Just a little bit further, darlin’,” he murmured. “Trust me.”

“Logan, this better not be some kind of elaborate prank,” you joked, trying to suppress your smile. “You know how easily I get nervous when I don’t know what’s going on.”

He chuckled softly, the sound warm in your chest. “No pranks. Just wait, you’ll see. You’re gonna love it.”

You had no idea where you were going or what he had planned. It was just you and him, alone in the magic of Paris. You’d never been this far from the mansion before, and the city felt like a whole new world, full of promise and adventure.

The air smelled different here, cleaner somehow, and there was a faint coolness to the evening breeze. You could hear the distant sounds of tourists and Parisians going about their evening, but it all felt so far away as Logan led you further down the sidewalk.

Finally, Logan stopped walking. You could sense the change in his posture, a subtle shift in how he held you.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he said, his voice lowering to a more serious tone. “Open your eyes.”

You hesitated for a moment before slowly lifting your eyelids, the city’s lights momentarily blinding you as you adjusted. And then—there it was.

The Eiffel Tower. Towering before you, it glittered with thousands of lights, shining bright against the darkening sky. But it wasn’t just the Eiffel Tower that took your breath away. Above it, the sky was painted with the vivid greens, purples, and blues of the Northern Lights.

You gasped, your eyes darting between the two spectacular sights before landing on Logan. “Logan… how… how did you know this was happening? The Northern Lights don’t usually appear in the summer…”

He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Guess I know a few things about the world you don’t, darlin’.” He paused, taking in your stunned expression. “I might’ve had a little help, but I wanted tonight to be perfect for you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “This… this is perfect,” you whispered, unable to tear your eyes away from the sky. “I can’t believe you knew this was going to happen.”

Logan shrugged casually, though his expression softened as he took a step closer. “I don’t know about the stars aligning, but I know how much you love the idea of things being right when they happen. Couldn’t let you miss this.” He reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I wanted you to see this. To know that, no matter what, there’s beauty in this world that’s meant for you.”

You stood there in stunned silence, the weight of his words settling in your chest. You had never imagined a moment like this—not with Logan, not in a city like this. He had this way of surprising you, of pulling something beautiful out of thin air when you least expected it. The man who had been your constant across so many lifetimes, always there, always remembering you when you had no memory of your past lives… and now, here he was, giving you a memory of your own.

You finally looked up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I’m so glad I’m here with you.”

Logan’s lips quirked up, the corners of his mouth softening. “You deserve everything, sweetheart,” he said, his hand finding yours again. “Everything and more.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch seep through your skin. The world around you seemed to slow, as though the Northern Lights had wrapped the two of you in a blanket of time. Here, in Paris, standing beneath the Eiffel Tower with Logan beside you, you felt like maybe—just maybe—this life would be different. Maybe this time, there would be no goodbyes.

“I love you,” you whispered, the words feeling lighter than they ever had before.

Logan’s expression softened even more, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I love you, too. More than anything.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his voice low and steady. “You’re my everything, darlin’.”

The stars twinkled above you, and the Northern Lights danced in the sky, but in that moment, all you could see was Logan. His warmth. His presence. His unwavering certainty that you were meant to be together.

---

You scrunched your nose at the sky, the rain falling steadily as it soaked into the streets of Paris. The rhythm of the downpour created a gentle symphony against the canopy above you, and though the evening had been filled with so much warmth, the weather had shifted unexpectedly. But, despite the rain, Logan’s hand remained steady in yours, and the storm outside couldn’t quite dampen the mood between you.

Logan turned toward you, a hint of mischief playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Want to run through the rain, sweetheart?” he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

You blinked, momentarily taken aback. “Run through the rain?”

Logan's smile spread, and he raised an eyebrow at you. “Yeah, sweetheart. What’s the worst that could happen? We get a little wet? Besides, you look great when you’re soaked.” His voice was playful, and there was a lightness to it that made you laugh again.

You glanced at the rain, the droplets now beginning to fall harder, streaking down the cobblestones of the Parisian street. It wasn’t the kind of weather you had imagined, but somehow, with Logan beside you, it felt like the perfect opportunity to break from the ordinary.

You shrugged, a smile creeping onto your face. “I guess if you can handle it, then I can too.” You squeezed his hand, trying to act more confident than you felt. After all, it wasn’t every day that you got to be in Paris, on your honeymoon, with Logan by your side.

Logan’s grin turned into something softer, and his fingers tightened around yours as he pulled you closer. “You sure about that? We can always head back to the hotel,” he said, his voice low, the warmth of it settling around you.

“No way,” you replied quickly, your tone more playful now. “Let’s do it. Just try to keep up.”

Logan chuckled under his breath and nodded, his eyes lighting up with that mischievous spark that had always drawn you in. “Alright, sweetheart. Here we go.”

Before you could take a step, he tugged you gently toward him, and in one swift motion, he was off, pulling you with him. You laughed, the sound mingling with the soft patter of rain against the street, as you ran beside him through the warm summer rain. The water splashed at your feet, your clothes quickly soaking through, but it felt like freedom—like this moment was just for the two of you.

Logan’s laughter echoed in your ears as you both sprinted down the street, the Parisian cityscape around you a blur. You felt lighter than you had in weeks, months, maybe even years. Everything was perfect. For the first time, you didn’t have to worry about the past or what the future might bring. You only had the here and now, and Logan, the one constant in your life.

Eventually, you both slowed to a stop, your breathing heavy but your hearts light. You couldn’t help but smile at Logan, who was grinning, his hair slightly damp and his shirt clinging to his chest in the most endearing way.

“That was... definitely worth it,” you said, breathless, your voice filled with amusement.

Logan caught his breath too and wiped the water from his forehead. “Told you you’d love it,” he replied, his voice softer now. He stepped toward you, his eyes never leaving yours, and before you could say anything else, he cupped your face with one hand, pulling you toward him.

His kiss was slow, tender, a contrast to the spontaneity of your run. The world seemed to stop in that moment, the sounds of the rain, the city, all fading away as you kissed him back, feeling the warmth of his lips against yours. There was something magical about it—about how he always knew how to make you feel special, even in the most unexpected moments.

When you finally pulled back, you both stood there, laughing quietly, your fingers still interlaced. “Okay, now I’m soaked,” you said, your smile never fading.

Logan chuckled, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand. “Doesn’t matter. You look beautiful either way,” he said, his voice gruff but affectionate.

You shook your head, but the smile on your face grew wider. “You’re impossible,” you teased, though the warmth of his words made your heart swell. “But I guess I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk never leaving his lips. “Good. I’ve got a few more surprises up my sleeve, darlin’. Just wait.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again. “I’m starting to wonder if I should be worried.”

Logan pulled you closer again, his hand resting on the small of your back, his thumb gently tracing circles. “Trust me, sweetheart. No need to worry about anything. It’s just you and me. Always.” His words, soft and certain, settled in your chest like a promise.

For a moment, you closed your eyes, letting the sound of the rain and his steady presence wash over you. The night had become everything you’d dreamed of and more. There would be no worries, no regrets—not as long as Logan was by your side.

Finally, Logan broke the silence with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So, what do you say? You wanna keep running through the rain, or should we head back to the hotel and dry off?”

You glanced at him, your heart racing from both the run and the way he made you feel. “I think I’m ready for a change of pace,” you said, your voice soft, almost teasing. “But don’t think I’ll forget this.”

He chuckled again, his hand slipping into yours as he led the way back toward the hotel, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as the two of you walked together, side by side, under the Parisian night sky.

if you want to know what year it is, it is 2005!

(also, again, you can imagine whatever wedding dress you want, but i based it off of this one i found when i was, once again, bored)

[faghubby]

Little cocksucker

I am not sure how it grew but it started when I moved to Pennsylvania. My parents moved us out to a small town 30 minutes from even a gas station. I was 17 and hoped to be away at school in a next year. I had grown up in New York and the culture shock was insane. It had been months and I had no friends. Then I met Jack

Jack and I couldn't be different he had lived in this small town his whole life. His family owned a farm. And he looked like he worked his whole life on a farm. 6 ft tall and huge I swear he could of flipped a car if he wanted to. While I was 5' 3" damn most of the girls where bigger then me even my little sister. So when Jack invited me to go horseback riding I told him I didn't know how.

"Don't worry I will teach you" he assured me. He drove me in his pickup truck. I didn't even know how to drive and he had been driving since he was 14. Jack walked me thru how to ride. Giving me an older horse to ride.

"He is not going to go hard" he told me. Helping on to the horse. He watched as I rode around the field before he joined me. He then led me thru the fields into the woods. Before we came upon an old house in the woods. He stopped and helped me down. Grabbing my ass as he did. I was shocked but thought it just an accident.

"There aren't many girls our age around" he commented as he showed me around the old abandoned house.

"So I noticed" I told him.

"Have you ever been in a circle jerk?" He asked plainly.

"What, no" I told him.

"There are some of us who help each other" He told me pressing me against a wall. His hand cupping my crotch.

"Go ahead" he told me. Leaning in closer.

"I'm not" I told him

"Non of us are. Animals often do things when there is a shortage of females" he told me. I reached down and felt his hard cock thru his jeans. Holy shit was that all him? He unzipped his pants he wore no underwear his cock sprug free. I stroked him. He just held his hand against my crotch. His hand was able to hold not only my hard dick but my balls as well, while I needed two hands to hold him.

"You can be the female today" he told me as I stroked his cock. It was odd but excited me at the same time.

"There are a few of us, but no one speaks of it" he told me. I shook my head.

"I understand"

"Would you like to lick it?" He asked. I shook my head no but knelt and kissed his cock.

"No one says anything?" I asked.

"Top secret" he smiled as I took the head in my mouth. He kissed and licked but made him cum on the floor. He helped me back up his rough hands rubbed my nipples.

"We are going to have lots of fun together" he told me. He fixed his pants and helped back on the horse. This time not hiding his grab on my ass. I was worried and ashamed as we rode back to the barn. I couldn't even look Jack in the face. But caught myself thinking about his muscles.

The next day in gym class everyone seemed to be behaving different towards me. I wasn't the little funt outcast. Several guys "helped me"

"Hold the ball like this. Or stand with your feet apart " they showed me standing very close I thought.

When we went to change, Bill came up behind me.

"Jack says you joined our little circle" He smiled as he pulled off his shorts and boxers. His cock swinging free. I quickly looked away as he laughed softly. Jack started driving me home everyday. It was a week before he pulled down a dirt road. He stopped and pulled out his cock.

"I can't stop thinking about what a great job you did" he told me. I blushed and took his cock in my mouth. He was more forceful this time. Pushing my head. Gaging me encouraging me to take more. He finished in my mouth but I spit it out.

"It's time you met the rest of the group" he told me.

"Are you going to?" I asked looking down at the bulge ini my jeans

"Not my turn to be the female" Jack smiled not giving me anymore explanation. I rinsed out my mouth. Wondering if they expected more from the "female" . Jack drove me home.

"I am glad you are making friends paul "my mother smiled. she was folding clothes. I blushed a bit as I saw her fold her panties.

I was 17 never even kissed a girl but had sucked Jack's cock twice. I started to obsess over who the other guys where, what they would expect, where they all big like Jack? Was I just really small? I searched the internet. And found myself watching bisexual porn. I came across one with a man wearing panties sucking cock. I would catch glimpses of the guys changing at gym. I found myself looking at their assessment. And not the few girls in class. Was I gay?

"Should I pick you up around 7" Jack said as he came up behind me in the hallway. His hand cupped my ass. I blushed

"Sure"i said a bit higher pitch then I had meant too. I obsessed over what to wear. My hair and how I smelled. Should they want me to Smell like a girl? I grabbed a bag. And thru in a spare tee. Incase Jack came on me again. Should I wear panties? I had never wanted to but now? I decided against it and Jack was right on time. He drove to an old factory on the edge of town the place was huge. He walked me thru.

"No reason to be nervous" he told me. He lit a joint and gave me some. I had only smoked weed once. I got high on just two hits. I heard music as we got close. I saw Bill and Roger they handed me a beer. As Jack led me into a room. Pete was there. Sitting on a chair naked.

"You know what to do" Jack told me swatting my ass. I went to him. Jack left, Pete pulled me onto his lap. His cock now rubbing against my bulge. He kissed me. Long and hard his tounge darting around my mouth. I loved it. And relaxed in his arms. My hand reached down and stroked his cock. He stole the kiss and I slid to the floor and sucked his cock. It was smaller then Jack but bigger then mine for sure. Pete also came quicker then Jack. I didn't try and move I let him cum in my mouth.

Pete calmly got up and dressed as I took a swig of beer to cleat the taste. As soon as Pete left Roger came in. He was the tallest of them. Roger wasted no time he grabbed me and pulled me to his crotch he held my hair as he tried to face fuck me. But I kept gagging. And he would stop. He pulled out and came all over my face. I took off my shirt and wipped it off. No sooner had I done that when Bill presented his cock to me. Bill let me do whatever I wanted. I tried to do things I had seen in pornos I licked his balls. And cupped his ass as I sucked his dick. Almost taking all of him. He asked me wear I wanted it, I just sucked him harder and he came in my mouth. I swallowed it all down. Proud of myself that I was able too.

Jack came in offered me more pot. I was really stoned now. He stripped me naked. And pushed me to the floor, I sucked his cock my jaw aching. But the pot made me not care. As I sucked his cock he rubbed my ass. Then his fingers spread my cheeks I didn't stop. As his finger probed my ass. I moaned as he did. I don't remember much after that.

I must of passed out. I woke the music still playing. I got dressed and went back out. Pete handed me a beer. And another hit off a joint. I watched as they just drank beer and wrestled each other. Jack Sat down and pulled me to his lap.

"You are definitely the girl of the group" he told me his hand cupping my ass.

"What does that mean" I asked softly.

"You will do what girls do for us" he told me. Then kissed me. I was shaking as he then led me his truck and drove me home. As he dropped me off I hesitated. How did I look before I went inside. I was still pretty stoned. My mom was still up looked at me and smiled.

"You have fun honey" she asked

"Yeah" I laughed. I went to bed and passed out. Jake showed up at my house the next morning at 10. I was still asleep. My mother sent him into my room to wake me up. I woke to him sitting on my bed. His hand down my boxers rubbing my ass.

"Wake up sleepy head. I got a surprise for you" he told me. I came to and freaked jumping up.

"Shh, Jake whispered" he pulled down my boxers and stroked me a few times. He stopped

"Better get a move on" he told me and left. I jumped in the shower. As I rushed back to my room. I heard My mom talking to Jake. I couldn't find any clean jeans and rushed to the laundry room. I grabbed my jeans but next to them was a pile of my mother's things. I stopped I flipped thru and grabbed a pair of her panties and rushed back to my room. I slid the panties on they where simple cotton white panties but they felt so sexy. I finished getting dressed and headed out with Jake. Mom handing me an egg sandwich. On the way out the door. As soon as we where out of the driveway Jake handed me a joint. I took a hit and handed it back.

"You enjoyed last night didn't you?" He asked. I blushed and took another hit. Then laid across the old bench seat in his truck my head on his lap. I felt his hand slid down the back of my pants. He pulled over quickly.

"What are you wearing?" He asked surprised. I sat up and undid my jeans showing him my mother panties.

"You can" I fell silent I wasn't sure. But I wanted him.

"The guys will eat this up, they will rape you all day long" he told me. I was scared and excited.

"Can't it just be you" I asked in a meek voice. Sliding close to him my hand rubbing his hard cock thru his jeans. He started to drive again.

"Roger just wants to get off. Bill just goes along with everyone but Pete he wants the whol domination experience" Jack was telling me I pulled his cock out and stroked him.

"What do you want" I said softly.

"I you can never tell" he said. "I like girlie boys" he said now he was blushing. I went down and started to suck his cock. He pulled into a secluded spot. He finished in my mouth. I licked him clean.

"I don't know if I am gay or what. But I know I am attracted to you" I told him. He showed me some of the stuff he liked to watch on his phone. It was alot of twink porn. He didn't want a girl he wanted a little gay sissy to fuck. It turned me on as well. He had me pull down my jeans and he rubbed my ass thru my mother's panties. I was rock hard and throbbing. He had sent the guys a text saying we weren't going to make it. I wanted him to touch my dick but he was careful not to. He pulled me close and kissed me. I was going to explode.

"I want to fuck your plump little ass" he told me. I nodded. But we had no lube. He stopped and drove me to his house. I tried to act all non crazy with lust for him as he led me into a barn. He grabbed a tube of something off the shelf and led me up to a loft. The barn smelled so bad. But he grabbed me and practically tore my pants and panties off. Bent me over and smeared the tube all over my ass. I moment later he shoved his cock in my ass. I yelled. He didn't stop. Fucking me. I tried to be quiet as he tore my ass in two. He didn't stop until he had filled my ass with his cum. He half collapsed on top of me. His cock growing soft inside me.

He let me up.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked concerned. I smiled and kissed him my erection gone. My ass sore. I pulled my clothes back on. As we climbed out of the loft, A woman stood waiting.

"Dad not going to like this" she said. I timidly hid behing Jack. She then turned to me.

"Hi I'm Mary this idiot big sister" she told me. Offering me her hand. Her hands where rough and big. "Take your friend home and get back here we got work to do" Mary told him.

"I can help" I crackled. Still holding on to jack.

"Take him home" Mary told Jack. He led me to his truck and drove me home. He stopped and kissed me before we turned down my road. He dropped me off at the end of the driveway and I went inside to take a shower. Cum, lube and even a little blood was soaked into my mother's panties. I felt my asshole it felt huge. Nobody was home so I took a long shower. I noticed my mother's razor in the shower and shaved my ass. But I kept going I shaved off all my pubic hair as well and jerked off thinking about Jake. I went into my parents room after. I searched thru my mother's drawers. I felt so naughty as I looked thru her things. I opened a drawer full of very sexy lingerie. I was amazed my mother owned such sexy things. But also wondered if Jack would love to see me wear them. I took a black pair of lacy panties and ran back to my room. I put them on under my clothes. They rode up giving me a wedgie whenever I moved. I became accustomed to them rubbing against my sore asshole.

Jake would pick me up everyday and drive me to school. I tried to act like we were just friends. But I so wanted to kiss him in the hall between classes like the girls did to thier boyfriends. The guys left me be. I wasn't sure what Jack had told them. But everyday on the way home we would stop and I would suck his cock. And swallow his load. When I got home I would jerk off. It had been only a week and I couldn't take it anymore. I found myself sneaking into my mother's things again. Trying on bras and stockings. I loved the feel of all the soft fabrics. I shaved my legs and instantly regretted it. Knowing someone would notice.

Saturday night Jake picked me up. I wore little red panties under my jeans. As we drove off.

"I want you so bad" I told him almost climbing in his lap. He pulled over and grabbed the tube of lube. They used it to insemination cows. Shoving there hands inside them. I pulled off my pants. Showing him the pretty panties and shaved legs. He kissed me and bent me over the hood of his truck. He fucked me so good. Coming inside me again.

"You are mine now" he told me. I got dressed but he grabbed my shirt and cut it with his knife. I put it on and my belly showed. Then he yanked up my panties so the waist band showed over my jeans, I felt exposed as he drove to the party. Once there I didn't want to go. He dragged me put of the truck. Terrified I held his arm and his shyly behind him. I got alot of laughed and strange looks. Pete even smacked my ass. But one look from Jack and he backed off. We walked up to the keg to get a drink. And ran right into my little sister Terry.

"Holy shit" she spit out the beer she was sipping. Jake introduced himself when night was suddenly unable to speak.

"Jake, Paulie's boyfriend" he told her. She just smiled and introduced her date. Some kid Jake already knew. Terry walked up to me and pulled the waist band of my panties.

"Are those mom's she giggled. As he date walked her away with his hand on her ass. I spent the whole party clinging to Jake afraid to be away from him. It was after midnight when we left. Jake fucked me again on some little dirt side road before he took me home. I heard My parents in their room when I came in bit just went to bed.

I woke late to yelling.

"I don't care you where way past your curfew" my mother told Terry. I stumbled into the kitchen to grab something to eat.

"Why isn't Paul grounded then" Terry yelled.

"Your brother is older then you" my father said quietly from the table.

"You came home late, drunk with some boy we don't know" my mother continued. I wanted to stay out of this and went to leave with my orange juice.

"Paul's boyfriend knows him" Terry spit out. I almost swallowed my tounge. As my mother and father both stooped and stared at me.

"Terry you are excused" my father said. Terry stormed off.

"Paul we support you in whatever you choose" my father said softly.

"Jake is a very nice boy" my mother smiled.

"Jake?" My father said surprised.

"Of course it's Jake isn't it?" My mother said running her hand thru my hair.

"Yes, I don't know maybe it's just" my words drifted away.

"He should come for dinner either way" my father announced. I went and showered. Terry was in my room waiting

"Sorry I didn't mean I was just mad" she said

"I know it's okay" I told her. She hugged me and headed back to her room. A moment later my mother knocked I was still in my robe. She closed the door.

"You been in my things?" She asked.

"Yes, I am sorry" I told her.

"You can't go into my things" she told me. "Get dressed we will go out and talk" she told me. I got dressed. My mom drove for a long time. As we talked. We talked about being safe, and predators. Seemed like a dating talk like my dad had given me years ago. Just a girls point of view. Then she asked.

"Do you want to be a girl?"

"I don't know" I muttered.

"I liked wearing your underwear and I love how Jake makes me feel" I confessed.

"You too have had sex?" She asked. I blushed unable to answer. Just as we pulled into a shopping center.

"Your father gave us a budget but you can get anything you fancy" my mother told me. She led me straight towards woman's intimates. I was suddenly surrounded by pastel colors, lace and satin. I grew very shy.and my mother let me shop with my eyes, she watched and if I saw something I liked she would find it in my size and put it in the cart.

"You don't need one but do you want one" she whispered on my ear looking at bras. I blushed and my mother went and picked some out.

"You have to try one on make sure it fits" she told me. I couldn't but she grabbed some jeans and stuffed the bra in between and asked the women for the changing room. I tried on the bra, it fit I had trouble hooking it but got it. Another pair of jeans flipped over the door.

"Try these as well" my mother said. I tried on the jeans they fit odd. I realized they set lower. My mother had given my girls jeans. The first pair was too loose. The second fit better. I got more comfortable and excited to try things on. We left with two huge bags of clothes.

"Terry never let's me help her go shopping." My mother smiled. On the ride home I opened up about Jake exposing me at the party. And how he kissed me. Leaving out the sex parts other then to confirm we had had sex.

"You should go to school tomorrow in your new clothes then. Everyone already knows" my mother assured me. She even helped me pick out the outfit. A pair of tight fitting jeans with flowers on the rear pockets. With a pink tee shirt that had spaghetti straps with a white blouse over it.

"You could even wear one of your bras under it all if you wanted to" my mother told me.

The next morning I sat at the breakfast table wearing exactly what my mother had suggested minus the bra. But I did have a cute pink thong on. As Jake picked me up. I sat up against him as he drove my hand on his thigh the whole way. I walked with my hand wrapped around his arm through the school. He walked me to my first class and kisses me.

"Meet you right here" he told me.

"Paula" I told him and skipped into class. I got teased a little mostly by girls the boys to afraid of Jake. But I didn't care. We dated all year even going to prom together. Mom had gotten me the pretties gown. It was way to girlie but I loved it. I became a girl for the most part. Nails always done, my hair grew out some. Terry started dating a guy named Tom. And we would actually double date. So mom didn't worry. I couldn't get enough of Jack. His father disapproved but did nothing to stop us. We are about to graduate and Jake has still never made me cum. While i make him cum everyday. He will be going off to school it's only an hour away. I can't imagine a day without his cock.

[xoxorealitygalore]

Trust and Believe V

summary: Keyshia and Joe had a seemingly perfect life together after marrying in 2010. However, as their careers grew, so did the strain on their relationship. When Joe cheats on Keyshia. The emotional fallout from the incident leaves their relationship hanging in the balance, with Keyshia questioning if they could ever recover from the betrayal.

Joe and Keyshia sat across from each other in the cozy, dimly lit therapy room. The quiet hum of the air conditioning was the only sound, and the tension between them felt palpable, even in this neutral space meant for healing. They had been to therapy a handful of times before, but today felt different. It was as if they were on the precipice of something—some breakthrough, some painful truth or realization.

The therapist, a middle-aged woman named Dr. Reynolds, sat across from them, her calm demeanor offering a quiet sense of reassurance. She had seen many couples come through her doors, some barely hanging on, others desperate for answers, and some simply unsure of where to start. Joe and Keyshia were somewhere in between.

Keyshia sat with her arms crossed tightly in front of her, her expression unreadable. Her eyes flicked between Joe and Dr. Reynolds, but her body language was tense—on guard, as if she were preparing herself for something that might hurt. Joe, on the other hand, leaned back slightly on the couch, looking more relaxed but with an undercurrent of nervousness. His fingers tapped lightly on his thigh as he glanced at Keyshia, a small furrow in his brow.

Keyshia spoke first. Her voice, though calm, carried the weight of a lifetime of unspoken emotions.

“It’s hard,” she began, her voice steady but tinged with frustration. “It’s really hard, Dr. Reynolds. I feel like I’m fighting a battle inside myself every day. Every time I get upset, every time something triggers me, my insides just… burn up. I feel like I’m going crazy, like I’m about to lose control. But I’ve learned to control it. I’ve learned not to crash out, not to let it all explode. And that’s been tough. Really tough.”

Dr. Reynolds nodded, acknowledging the depth of what Keyshia was expressing. She understood that emotions like the ones Keyshia was describing weren’t easily managed, and that the act of controlling one’s own emotional responses took more than just willpower—it took self-awareness, time, and effort. Keyshia wasn’t just talking about being angry or upset; she was describing the intense, gut-wrenching, almost uncontrollable feelings that came from years of emotional turmoil.

Joe shifted in his seat, looking down for a moment before meeting Keyshia’s eyes. There was a mix of regret and guilt in his gaze. He knew he had played a part in bringing them to this place, and the weight of that was heavy on his heart. He had cheated on Keyshia, and now they were here, trying to piece together the fragments of their broken relationship.

“I didn’t make it easy for you,” Joe said quietly, his voice full of regret. “I’ve hurt you. I know I’ve hurt you. And I’m sorry.”

Keyshia let out a small, almost dismissive laugh. It wasn’t a laugh of amusement, but more of a laugh born out of frustration. Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, she looked away from him, her jaw clenched. She was tired of hearing the same apologies. She had heard them countless times before, each one seeming more like an empty gesture than a true sign of remorse.

“I’m tired of hearing that, Joe,” Keyshia said, her voice low but firm. “I’m tired of hearing you say sorry and not understanding why it even happened in the first place. You don’t get to just apologize and think that fixes everything. I need to understand why. I need to know why you cheated. What happened? Where did we go wrong?”

Her words hung in the air, sharp and raw. Joe's eyes dropped once more, as if he were searching for the right words, for an answer that could satisfy the pain and confusion in her voice. He didn’t have an immediate answer, not one that felt worthy of her pain, but he knew he had to try.

"I… I don’t know," he said slowly, as if the admission pained him. "I think I was selfish. I didn’t think about how my actions would affect you, or how they would affect us. I wasn’t thinking about the relationship, I was thinking about myself. I don’t want to make excuses, but I know I screwed up. I hurt you, and I can’t take that back. But what I can do is try to be better now. And I don’t know if that’s enough, but it’s all I have."

Keyshia was quiet for a moment, processing his words. Her expression softened, but the pain was still evident in her eyes. The trust that had once been a solid foundation between them had been shattered, and rebuilding it seemed like an impossible task.

Dr. Reynolds, sensing the tension between them, decided to step in gently.

"It’s clear that both of you are carrying a lot of pain," she said, her voice calm and steady. "And it’s also clear that Keyshia has made significant progress in managing her emotions. But managing emotions doesn’t mean they go away, Keyshia. You’ve been working hard to control how you respond, but it’s important to also understand where those emotions come from and what they mean. And Joe, you’re carrying your own guilt. The question now is how you both move forward from here."

Keyshia nodded, her arms still tightly crossed. She could feel the weight of her emotions building up inside her, but she had learned over the years how to keep them at bay. Still, there was a part of her that wanted to scream, to shout at Joe for everything that had gone wrong. She wanted him to understand just how deep the hurt went, just how much she had to fight every day not to let that hurt control her. But she didn’t want to explode again. She didn’t want to crash out.

“I’ve been doing better, but it’s still hard,” Keyshia admitted, her voice quiet but honest. “Sometimes I just want to lose control. Sometimes I just want to scream at you, at everything. But I know that won’t help. It won’t fix anything. But I don’t know how to stop feeling the way I do.”

Joe looked at her, his heart aching. He could see the inner turmoil she was going through, the battle she fought every day to keep her emotions in check. And he knew, deep down, that he had been the catalyst for so much of that pain.

“I get it,” he said softly. “I really do. And I’m sorry. I don’t want to make it harder for you, Keyshia. I want to be better. I want to fix this, but I know it’s going to take time. And I know I can’t just tell you it’s going to be okay. I have to show you.”

Keyshia’s eyes softened slightly, but there was still a guardedness to her expression. She wasn’t ready to fully let her guard down. Not yet. Not after everything that had happened. But she appreciated that Joe was at least acknowledging her pain and the effort she was putting into holding everything together.

Dr. Reynolds spoke again, guiding them back to the heart of the issue.

“Keyshia, it seems like you’ve made a lot of progress in understanding and managing your emotions,” she said. “But you’ve also been through a lot. You’re not just controlling your reactions; you’re trying to make sense of them, and that’s a crucial part of healing. Joe, you’ve acknowledged your mistakes. The next step is to explore how you both can begin to rebuild trust and communication.”

Keyshia nodded, a quiet sigh escaping her lips. "I just don't understand how things went wrong. How did we get here? I want to understand how we got to this point so that I can make sense of it. I don’t want to keep feeling this way, but it’s hard when I feel like there’s so much left unanswered.”

Joe glanced at her, his heart heavy with the weight of her words. He wished he could explain everything, wished he could give her the answers she was desperately searching for. But the truth was, he wasn’t sure himself. He didn’t know when or how things had started to unravel. He had been selfish, disconnected, and unable to see how his actions affected the person he loved most.

“I don’t have all the answers, Keyshia,” he said softly. “But I’m willing to figure it out with you. If you’re willing to try. I can’t promise that things will be perfect, but I can promise that I’m going to work every day to be the person you deserve.”

The room fell into a quiet stillness as the words hung in the air. Joe's vulnerability, his willingness to admit his faults and face the consequences of his actions, was a step toward healing. But it was only one step. The journey ahead would be long, full of hard conversations, raw emotions, and painful revelations.

Keyshia looked at Joe, her eyes searching his face for something—some sign that he truly meant it, that he was ready to do the hard work that rebuilding trust required. She didn’t know if she could fully trust him again, not yet, but there was a small part of her that felt the smallest flicker of hope.

“I don’t know if I can ever forgive you completely,” she said softly, her voice trembling slightly. “But I’m willing to try. For us. For me.”

And in that moment, both Joe and Keyshia knew that while the road ahead would be difficult, it was the only path worth walking. Together.

[antinousletmehit]

Hii, may I request for Hermes x fem! reader?

Where Hermes and reader are very close friends and they sometimes banter playfully with eachother, do things together, etc..

And if anyone who saw them, they might mistake them as a couple. And guess what? Hermes then falls in love in her. Hard.

BUT unfortunately for him, reader likes someone else. (It's Apollo)

Thank youu

୨୧┇Paring: Hermes x reader/Apollo x reader

୨୧┇sorry this took so long to write😓

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

Hermes always had a knack for making things seem effortless. Whether he was weaving through the fluffy clouds of Olympus or charming a crowd with his quick wit, he carried himself with a lighthearted ease that made everyone adore him. You included. He was your best friend, the one constant in a world of divine chaos. Wherever Hermes was, you weren’t far behind, and wherever you went, he followed. It wasn’t uncommon for the other gods to raise an eyebrow at your closeness. “Admit it,” Aphrodite teased one day, a knowing smirk on her lips. “You two are together, aren’t you?” You had laughed, shaking your head. “No, no, we’re just friends. Really.”

Hermes had chuckled along with you, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, a fleeting moment where his smile didn’t quite reach his face. You didn’t notice. How could you, when all your thoughts were consumed by someone else?

Apollo.

The radiant god of the sun had caught your eye long ago, and though you never said it outright, Hermes knew. He saw the way your face lit up whenever Apollo entered the room, the way your voice grew softer, more hesitant, when you spoke to him. It was subtle, but Hermes noticed everything when it came to you.

“Are you going to tell him?” Hermes asked one evening, his voice light but careful. You turned to look at him, surprised. The two of you were sitting by the edge of a golden pool in Olympus, watching the stars twinkle above.

“Tell who what?”

Hermes raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a teasing smile. “Don’t play coy. Apollo. Are you going to tell him you like him?” Your cheeks flush, and you quickly looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right,” Hermes said, leaning back on his hands. “Because you’re definitely not swooning over him every time he plays his lyre.” You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Am I that obvious?”

“Only to someone who knows you as well as I do,” he said, his voice softening. You peeked at him through your fingers, giving him a sheepish smile. “Do you think… Do you think I should tell him?”

Hermes’s heart twisted painfully in his chest, but his expression remained steady. He couldn’t let you see how much it hurt to hear you talk about Apollo like that. “I think you should do whatever makes you happy,” he said finally, his voice gentle. You smiled, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “Thanks, Hermes. You always know what to say.”Hermes squeezed your hand in return, but his own smile faltered the moment you turned away.

Over the next few days, Hermes watched from the sidelines as you began to spend more time with Apollo. You were shy around him at first, but Apollo’s natural charm quickly put you at ease. The two of you laughed and talked more than ever, and Hermes…he stayed back, as he always did. The other gods continued to make comments about you and Hermes, assuming you were a couple. Every time, Hermes laughed it off, just as you did, but each assumption felt like a weight pressing down on his chest.

One evening, as Hermes walked through the gardens, he spotted you and Apollo sitting together beneath a laurel tree. Apollo was leaning closer to you, his golden hair glowing in the fading sunlight, and you were smiling in a way Hermes hadn’t seen before. He didn’t need to hear what you were saying to know.

You liked Apollo.

And Apollo liked you back.

Hermes turned away before either of you could notice him. He walked back to his quarters, his heart heavy and his usual light step absent. Sitting alone in the quiet, Hermes let his mask slip for the first time in ages. His shoulders slumped, and he stared down at his hands, his mind replaying every moment he had spent with you. Every laugh, every shared secret, every time you had turned to him for comfort or advice.

He had always been there for you, always done his best to make you smile. And yet, it wasn’t enough.

It had never been enough.

[violetflowers55]

Hot & Cold - Chapter 4

(Dr. Phosphorus x fem!reader)

Synopsis: As much as you want to move on from last night, Phosphorus is making it really hard by looking so hot during battle. He even ends up saving you during battle, so you thank him later on in the bathroom.

Notes: Deviation from canon timeline and events from here on out.

CW: graphic violence (not as graphic as the show), more burning. very minor smut

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alexi pulled up to Nina and The Bride’s location, and everyone rushed into the decrepit mansion looming ahead of you. Inside, you found The Bride, chained up and duct taped.

“It’s a trap of some sort!” Phosphorous shouted.

You all fanned out, preparing for an ambush any moment. After seeing no signs of anyone, Flag ripped the tape of The Bride’s mouth to ask where they were.

“They’re gone!” she shouted.

They bickered for a moment until G.I asked her where Nina was. G.I ran to find her while Phosphorus melted the chains of The Bride.

“Circe and the Sons attacked you… and then they just left you here alive? Why would they do…”

Realization hit you all at the same time.

“Everyone, back to the castle, now!”

You all ran back to the van and got in, this time trying to accommodate for Nina’s new bathtub. Alexi sped off towards the castle, literally running one of the Sons over when you arrived. The Bride and Flag went out guns blazing, casually walking as they shot down the Sons. One guy with a machine guy tried to shoot down Phosphorus, and you watched as he stood to the side and melted the bullets before they even got near him. He lunged forward, punching through the guy

“Shish Kebob!” he laughed as he set the guy on fire.

Fuck, that’s hot.

Distracted, a bullet hit you square in the chest. You looked up to see a 30-year-old loser with a gun standing in front of you. A mixture of shock and horror spread across his face as he watched the bullet fall from your chest, like he had just thrown a coin at you.

“Ow,” you said, walking towards him. Really, it felt like an extra hard flick, but that still pissed you off. For the first time since you had been incarcerated, you let your skin turn to steel. He kept shooting as you walked towards him, but every bullet bounced right off you. As you got closer, he started to run, realizing his gun couldn’t hold you back. You reached out your hand, extending your metal whip from your wrist and wrapping it around his neck. To your delight, he screamed like a baby as you pulled him close. Using his own gun, you shot him point blank in the chest. Poetic justice.

A shout came from behind you as another basement dweller tried to slam the back of your head with the butt of his gun. You whipped around, relishing the fear on his face before you uppercutted him. Your steel hand sliced through his jaw deep into his head. His limp body fell to the ground with a squelch as you removed your fist. God, it had been too long since you took out some asshole men.

Another battle cry started to approach you, but was cut off before he reached you. You turned to see a Phosphorus burning straight through the head of a guy holding a grenade. Releasing the guy, he looked back at you, admiring your new look.

“You should really wear that more often.”

Even in the middle of a fight, he couldn’t stop flirting with you. Before you could retort, bullets began raining down on you. The two of you took cover with the others behind the water fountain.

“You know, most people say thank you when someone saves your life.”

“Not now!”

“That’s ok, I can think of a lot of ways you can thank me later. Wink” he whispered in a low voice, pointing at his face.

Luckily, G.I interrupted the conversation.

“Are these Nazis, General?”

“Yeah G.I. These are Nazis,” Flag answered, seemingly happy G.I’s obsession with Nazis could be put to good use.

A grin grew across G.I’s face as he began shooting like crazy. His abdomen detached and he flew up in the air. Seeing him switch to three guns on each arm, Flag shouted at everyone to hit the dirt. You knew he wouldn’t injure you, but you followed suit anyway. G.I spun around, shooting endless bullets, laughing gleefully over finally being able to shoot Nazis.

Suddenly, with a flash of purple light, he exploded. You gasped as the air cleared to reveal Circe.

“Well, that’s enough of that.”

She blasted the bunch of you by the fountain, sending you flying a few feet. She flew straight for the princess’s bedroom. You started to rise to chase after her, but Weasel beat you to to it. Just as quick as she flew in, she fell back out the window with Weasel on her. Laying on the ground, he viciously scratched away at her back. Phosphorus walked over to her and lifted her chin up.

“I love a good barbecue,” he said before pressing his palm into her face.

Goddamnit, why does he have to be so hot while torturing people?

“You wanted monsters, you got monsters,” The Bride said while Flag watched on in horror.

Eventually, the two stopped and Circe was secured to be sent back to… wherever she was going to go. The princess ran out of the castle, heading straight to Flag and throwing her arms around him. She kissed him, very passionately, much to everyone’s surprise.

“Thank you,” she broke away from him to address the rest of you, “Thank you all so much. I do not know how I can repay you for saving my life.”

“You don’t have to do anything, it’s our job,” Flag responded.

“No, I must do something… a banquet! Yes, we will throw you a banquet to thank you all.”

“Ah, I’m sorry Ilana, but I need to get Circe back to America and these guys back to Belle Reve.”

“We just saved a princess’s life, and our thank you is going back to prison?” Phosphorous angrily chimed in.

“Hardly seems fair,” The Bride agreed.

“Maybe next time we should just let her die. We’ll just go back to prison either way,” you added.

The princess giggled, amused by everyone’s antics. “Surely they have earned one more meal of non-prison grub?”

“Jesus Christ, fine! We’ll stay for the banquet. But we’re leaving right after.”

Everyone made little noises of excitement, even The Bride. Ilana hugged Flag, then ran back to the castle, presumably to order her servants to prepare a banquet. Flag turned to you, looking at your blood-covered hand and blood-stained clothes.

“You need to clean up first.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You opted for a full shower to fully cleanse yourself. The showers at Belle Reve sucked, so you took an extra long time in the shower, enjoying the normal water pressure and steaming hot water. You even treated yourself to their fancy shampoo and conditioner. After all, you helped save the princess’s life. You’d earned fancy shampoo.

When you fingertips started to wrinkle, you forced yourself to step out, wrapping yourself in a plush towel. You stared at yourself in the mirror, brushing your hair and inspecting the fading burns on your neck.

A knock on the door interrupted you. You shouted back that you were in there, but the door swung open. Phosphorus walked in, closing the door behind him.

“What the hell Phosphorous?! I’m in here! What if I was on the toilet?”

“Then at least you wouldn’t be wearing that towel,” his words were teasing, but his tone seemed serious. He stood by the door, hands in his pockets.

“Ugh. What do you want?”

“You never thanked me for saving your life,” he moved behind you, looking at you in the mirror.

“Because you didn’t save my life.”

“Really? A grenade exploding right on you wouldn’t put you out of commission?” He moved closer, placing his hands on the countertop on either side of you. Yet, he didn’t touch you. Somehow, that made the butterflies in your stomach flutter even more than if he was touching you.

“Injure me, maybe, but it wouldn’t kill me.”

“Mm. Then you can thank me for saving you from being injured,” he leaned in close to your ear, still staring at you in the mirror, still not touching you.

Your breath hitched in your throat.

“It’s ok if you can’t say the words. I can think of a few ways you can thank me,” he slid his hands towards you, finally touching you.

You gasped as he ran his hand up your stomach and cupped your breats. Even through the thick towel, you could feel his heat. He pressed a kiss right below your ear, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror, watching for your reaction. Seeing your slack jaw, he pulled your towel down, groping your bare breasts. You moaned as you felt his handprints burn into your skin. He pressed his pelvis into your behind, exciting you even more. Then, he suddenly stepped back, disconnecting from you. The sudden lack of touch was dizzying.

“You’re welcome,” he said as he moved toward the door, the teasing tone in his voice returning.

“Thank you,” you managed to get out as he opened the door. You thought maybe that would get him to stay. As he left, you could’ve sworn he was actually grinning. He closed the door behind him, leaving you wet and horny.

“Goddamnit,” you cursed him as you unwrapped your towel to get back in the shower, deciding to put the detachable showerhead to good use.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Hot take: Cooper Howard was an avid drug user before the bombs. Boyfriend was a big Hollywood star; all that pressure and you’re telling me that he’d be clean? My guy was prolly seeing more snow than Alaska.

Another Anon with 100% correct opinions who deserves a kiss straight on the mouth. Mwah.

But also...do you guys have backdoor access to my drafts? Yet again, someone comes into the ask box discussing a topic I was already thinking heavily on for a long-form piece; definitely touching on a lot of this in the next installments of Duplicity. Mister Howard doesn't deal with stress in the healthiest of ways. I also have a follow-up to this question in the inbox and I'm so glad you sent separate asks, actually, because I have a ton to say about this topic.

Substance use was absolutely a cornerstone of Cooper Howard's life long before the bombs dropped.

His vices of choice are primarily alcohol and cocaine (and cigarettes, obviously, but that's a societal addiction in the world he comes from), the former especially. Cooper is the definition of a high-functioning alcoholic. While he did dabble a bit more in party drugs when he and Barb were younger, when he was first starting to become famous and make good money, he more or less gave them up when Janey came along.

The coke use started as a social thing, a curiosity and a fun enhancer that he, and even Barb, occasionally, would dabble in. While he'd never pressure her to use (well, not that much, at least...), the few times she did are pretty fond memories to him, even after they split. She's always been a pretty straight-laced, serious, and high-achieving person, and he loved seeing her open up any time she decided to let her hair down. Plus, the sex after they got home would always be extra wild.

Addiction runs in the family on Cooper's side, so he grew up around people who drank a lot, and began drinking rather young himself as a result. He's been a fan of the sauce for a long time, far before his marriage or even his time in the army. Once they'd made it to Los Angeles, social drinking became a pretty big part of the Howard's lives, both using alcohol and sharing drinks with important contacts as a way to network their way into better opportunities. Barb isn't nearly as much of a drinker at home, save for an occasional glass of wine with dinner or a celebratory cocktail to top off a big accomplishment.

Coop's relationship with alcohol changed after he returned from his deployment; for the first time in his life, he began to more frequently use booze to chase away feelings he didn't want to feel, thoughts he didn't want to have. However, he kept a pretty solid handle on his habit for a long time, at least in terms of keeping it a secret. Janey's birth made it easy to keep his consumption to a minimum for several years. However, as his career began to decline as he aged (and as Vault-Tec became a more and more prominent presence in his life), he turned back to the bottle. When his stress began to peak, he started using cocaine more and more to "take the edge off".

He gets quite defensive (even aggressive, depending on who you are and how hard you push) if you start asking him too many questions about his substance use. Doesn't appreciate the implication that he has a problem he can't control. Cooper is already painfully aware of the number of things in his life that he has no control over and refuses to add another to the list. His manager, a pretty good friend with good intentions, very casually mentioned him possibly checking into rehab exactly once and he absolutely blew his lid. The idea of the public knowing about his struggles, judging him, laughing at him is more than he can bear, and that fear only intensifies after he spends over a year being mocked for his divorce and career backslide.

Besides, if he went to rehab, Barb would know, and that idea humiliates him. As far as he knows, he's hidden his problem from her for a long time.

Barb sees the signs much more clearly than he thinks, though. He comes home from parties she didn't attend incredibly late, teeth-grittingly on-edge and horny, but can't get it up properly due to the blow. Has the lingering smell of whiskey on his breath when she kisses him in the morning and conveniently always has a coffee waiting for her so she doesn't ask for a sip of his. Towards the end of their marriage, she finds a couple of flasks in places so obscure that they can only be hidden stashes, implying he's drinking so often that he feels the need to have near-constant access to alcohol.

Cooper's been a poor sleeper since his time in the service. He came back changed in more ways than one, but that was the most noticeable. However, he acts different when he's awake from insomnia versus when he's awake because he's fucked up. A regular night of bad sleep includes him quietly curled up in a chair, studying a script or watching the television turned down low as he tries his best to will himself into some rest.

When he's high, though, he has too much energy to sit still, so sometimes she'll wake up to him finishing up some household task that absolutely could have waited, or even doing things they pay people to do. She finds it hard to believe that he, for example, did four loads of laundry overnight or gave his car a meticulous tune-up because he was just that bored, despite his insistence. Once, she found him out in the back yard in the middle of the night, shooting live ammunition at a target and murmuring to himself. Though she'd stayed up and lingered at the window for hours watching over him, for the first time ever in their marriage, she'd been afraid of him, too unsure of how he'd react to approach.

She hadn't known it at the time, of course, but they'd be divorced within two years of that night.

His addiction issues absolutely came up in court, though they weren't the focus of any of the discussions. Barb withholds some information. While she fails to truly grasp all of the reasons her marriage ended, and therefore goes into the divorce angry and wanting to get back at him for his perceived rejections, she doesn't want to completely drag his name through the mud. But she still mentions a few aspects of it, namely those she feels could impact Janey. Cooper takes this very personally, especially when their custody split is decided and he's dissatisfied with the outcome.

After the split, when he no longer sees his family every day and spends significantly more time alone, his use increases, as does his tolerance. All the while, his ability to hide his dependence slowly wears away. Unfortunately, he has no idea what's in store for him in the future.

If he did, though, it'd probably only drive him to use more.

[sincerity--extreme]

I try to be as respectful as possible with everyone, people are different and they believe in different things and that's no reason to not respect someone obviously but, whenever I see those EXTREMELY religious people turning to someone and saying "oh, but God/Jesus didn't help you because you didn't pray hard enough/cause you didn't believe hard enough" it disgust me SOOOOOO much, the person is already suffering and your choice is to go judge them, shame then for not practicing YOUR religion like you believe it's right, or you can't take them questioning things you believe in, even if they aren't actually talking to you about it, so you tell them it's their fault that they're sick or that a loved one died or that they're going through an extremely hard time and are suffering and, I'm sorry, but that's one of the most fucked up things I've ever seen and that... I just can't deal respectfully with those people as they also don't respect me

[kinokoshoujoart]

the coolest kids in forgotten valley!!☆

(…it seems there may have been a stretch of time where rock and lumina were the only kids in forgotten valley…🥲)

poseref