#especially not my friends it breaks my heart

[punkshort]

Protect and Honor

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader

Summary: Marcus Acacius promised his best friend he would look after his wife if he ever perished in battle. What he didn't expect was to fall in love.

Warnings: OC death (reader's husband), grief, descriptions of battle/wounds/blood, guilt, angst, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, dry humping, cum eating, pining, language

WC: 6.6K

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

The entire city of Rome slept when the army returned. Warships quietly entered the port with another victory to announce, along with countless lifeless bodies in the hulls. Tomorrow, the emperors would rejoice, filling the streets and arena with games, wine, and laughter. But many families would be in mourning over the loss of fathers, brothers, children, and husbands.

It was those families Acacius thought about when he stood in between the young leaders of Rome, accepting praise and applause for leading those brave men into battle, then leaving their loved ones with holes in their hearts.

It wasn't unusual for him to feel burdened with responsibility and grief when he returned from war, but this time was especially painful because he lost someone very important: Antonius Sattius. His right hand man in battle, and his close friend since he was a boy. The man he celebrated with when he was married one year prior was now carefully carried from his ship, body draped in clean linen and emblazoned with gold.

His heart felt heavy in his chest as he made his way up the winding road to your modest home. Even though it was the middle of the night, he couldn't fathom not telling you the news right away. You deserved to know directly from him and not rumors that would inevitably flow through the streets at first light.

He knocked on your door, then stood with his head bowed and his hands clasped firmly at his waist. He wore his amour, although now clean, out of respect. His muscles were weary and everything ached, yet the thought of his own soft bed was distant in his mind when you swung open the door a moment later with a small lantern in your hand.

"Acacius?"

His head lifted and he met your gaze, eyes filled with sorrow, and watched while your expression changed from confusion to despair when you realized the reason he was alone at your door in the middle of the night.

"My lady, may I come in?"

Your lower lip trembled when you nodded and stepped aside, allowing his hulking frame to engulf your small sitting room as you hurried to light some candles with shaking hands.

"Was it quick?" you asked with your back to him. He nodded, standing stoically next to your furniture.

"Yes. He did not suffer."

Flashes of your husband's bloodied, dirt streaked face clouded his vision. He remembered voices shouting, swords clanging, and distant cries of pain as he hunched over Antonius's body, searching for signs of life.

You sighed and turned to face him, silent tears staining your cheeks, then slumped into a chair.

"Please, sit."

He relented and chose to sit across from you, perched on the edge of his seat, poised and ready but for what, he did not know. He watched you stare down at your tangled fingers in your lap, giving you time to process your loss.

"How will I ever go on? What am I going to do?" you whispered softly. Marcus pursed his lips, his heart breaking.

"I shall help you with anything you may need," he said. "I made a promise to him long ago. He was able to die with peace in his heart, knowing you would be watched over."

You gave him a weak smile. "And what was he to do for you, Acacius, if you had fallen first?" you asked. "No wife. No children. I have never heard you speak of family."

"He was my family," Marcus replied. "He promised to return my body to Rome, to be buried next to my mother and father."

You nodded solemnly and looked around the candlelit room. He could see the anguish flitting across your face as you tried to reconcile with the new life you would have come morning.

"If I had a choice, I would have taken his place."

"Do not say that," you said firmly. You narrowed your watery eyes at him and he fell silent. "We lost him for a reason. The gods - they have their reasons. Perhaps one day, we will discover what those are."

He held your gaze for a moment, a heaviness hanging in the air between you until the tears began to spill down your face and your vision blurred. Without considering decorum, Marcus stood and crossed the room to sit by your side. Tentatively, he reached for your hand, and you eagerly took it before leaning into his shoulder to sob quietly. All the while, Marcus sat strong beside you, letting you cry yourself out until your body sagged and your eyes could no longer remain open.

You didn't ask him to stay and he didn't ask permission. Once you disappeared into your bedroom, he removed his armor and made himself as comfortable as possible on your lounging chair before crossing his arms and willing himself to sleep.

The following morning you weren't surprised to hear Marcus stirring in your sitting room, no doubt being woken up by the two girls you had employed to assist with meals and laundry. A luxury, you realized, you would likely have to forgo as a widow.

You wrapped yourself in a fresh stola and splashed some water on your puffy face, trying to make yourself look halfway decent before exiting your bedroom. Marcus was just securing his armor when he turned to face you.

"I hope you were able to rest," he said. You saw some movement from the kitchen and your gaze slid over his shoulder to the two sets of eyes peering around the door. The girls saw you and quickly disappeared, but it didn't stop your face from warming when you realized they must have been whispering about Marcus being in your home so early in the morning.

"Some, yes," you replied. You swallowed thickly and stretched your arm towards the dining area. "Would you join me before you leave?"

"Of course, thank you," Marcus said, straightening his spine and following you into the room to sit at your table, where the two servants had already begun to place some food.

After you had filled your plates, you ate in silence, the only sound coming from the cleaning being done in the kitchen. As you stared down at your plate, you felt your stomach churn. The thought of eating while your husband lied dead somewhere in the city made you sick.

"What happens now?" you asked. Marcus set his fork down to look at you. "His body? Where is it? What do I need to do?"

"I was hoping to take some of his clothes to the mortuary while I am here," he said. "Whatever you prefer he be buried in, of course. If it is too much, I can assist in planning the ceremony."

"I do not wish to make a spectacle of it," you told him. "Antonius would not have cared for that."

"I will be sure to keep it small. The men will understand."

Marcus kept his promise. He planned most of the ceremony on your behalf and even stood valiantly at your side the entire time. He supplied the two coins for you to place upon your husband's closed eyes, then led you back home. You cried more tears you ever thought possible in the eight days you spent mourning while soldiers came to pay their respects in small groups, all the while Marcus sat by your side like a pillar of strength.

Once the typical mourning period passed, you expected Marcus to go back to his life where he might occasionally check in on you to uphold his promise, but to your surprise, he stopped by your home every day. It wasn't always the same time of day, nor for the same length of time, but every single day for months, you saw one another.

Eventually, you fell into a routine once a week where he would escort you to the markets. With your basket looped around one arm and your other hand tucked into the crook of his elbow, you meandered down the street together, wandering slowly from stall to stall until you gathered all the goods you needed for the week.

"I wish you would have kept the girls," Marcus told you for the third time that week. "I would have paid-"

"It was not about money," you reminded him, picking up a ripe piece of fruit and testing the firmness between your fingers. "It was unnecessary, I told you this already. What do I need servants for? To cook food for one? I hired them in anticipation of having children. My dream of being a mother is gone."

"You could remarry."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes before placing the fruit back and moving on.

"You know as well as I that suitors look for an untouched woman," you said quietly so that you couldn't be overheard.

Marcus remained silent by your side as you continued to stroll. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining but it wasn't terribly hot, and there was a slight breeze in the air, bringing with it the scent of lemon trees from a nearby orchard. You were about to open your mouth to remark on the perfect weather when Marcus spoke.

"I could help you find a suitor."

You twisted around and looked up at him in surprise. The sun glistened off his tanned, battle-scared face, his dark eyes gazing down at you without the faintest glimmer of humor.

"You are serious."

"If you like," he said, "I know there are some higher ranking officers who are still unwed. I would never bring any man who Antonius would not approve of."

The idea of moving on left you speechless. It was something you knew you should do, that otherwise you would live a long and lonely life, but it still unsettled you.

"Perhaps," you said slowly, then looked away. Marcus noticed your discomfort and patted your hand.

"If you are not ready, we can wait."

You nodded, pinching your lips together as you pretended to look at some flowers.

"And what of you, Acacius?" you asked, changing the subject. "Are you searching for a bride?"

Marcus chuckled and shook his head. "I fear the emperors have chosen war as my betrothed. It was a rare act of kindness they have allowed me this time of rest and mourning."

Your heart clenched in your chest, realizing for the first time that some day soon, Marcus would be sent off to a faraway land once again, leaving you all alone. Suddenly, the perfect weather and the sounds of the market was not enough to keep a smile on your face. You struggled to make sense of the mixed emotions you were feeling but did your best to shrug them off and carry on.

What you didn't realize that right next to you, Marcus was wrestling with the same uncertainty.

Just as you both expected but didn't want to acknowledge, three weeks later Marcus received word he was to lead Rome's army across the sea to conquer yet another distant city. When you heard the soft knock at your door far too early one morning, you sat up in bed, dread filling your chest.

With a cloak wrapped tightly around you, you slowly padded towards your door, only opening it timidly after taking a deep, shaky breath.

Marcus stood on the other side, clad in his black battle armor with a look of regret once again. Your heart sank as you tried not to slump against the doorframe.

"Come in," you said meekly. He nodded, jaw tense, and stepped inside your home the same way he had been every day for six months, only this time he set his sword by the door and turned to address you.

"I have my orders," he began, "I will be gone for a month or two, but I have asked a trusted retired general to check in on you in my absence."

You nodded and blinked away the tears that welled up in your eyes, but you weren't quick enough. Two fell down your cheeks and your lower lip quivered when his face softened and he stepped forward.

"Be brave," he murmured, cupping your jaw and swiping the tears away with his thumb. It was the most intimate thing he had done since you have known him. "I will return and escort you to the market in no time. Until then, do try to stay out of trouble. I do not want Julius to write of you injuring yourself chasing after the crows in your garden again."

You laughed as more tears spilled down your face. "I will try."

He smiled down warmly at you, eyes scanning your face and palm still cradling your jaw. You both felt something shift in that moment. The air grew thicker when your eyes met and your heart flipped when his gaze briefly fell to your lips. Your fingers itched to touch him, to pull him close and dispel of the gap between you, but you hesitated. Unknowingly, Marcus was doing the very same, swallowing nervously at the butterflies in his stomach, something he hadn't felt in years with a woman. But neither of you acted on your feelings, for the ghost of your husband still lingered in the room.

You cleared your throat and gently took his hand, the one that was pressed against your cheek, and pulled it down to hang between you.

"Please try not to die."

Marcus grinned and the air in the room instantly lifted.

"I will try."

Begrudgingly, he let go of your hand and took a step back. "I will return before you know it. And when I do," he said, bending to pick up his sword, "I expect to be inundated with all the exciting rumors around the city, first thing."

You bit your lower lip and swiped the back of your had across your cheek.

"I promise."

Marcus gave you one last lingering glance before forcing his feet to move. You watched with a heavy heart as he made his way down your walk, towards the road, towards the direction of the sea. From where you stood, you could just see the tops of the warships, their sails already fluffed in the dimness of the sliver of sun peaking over the horizon.

As it turned out, Julius was quite good company. He was old enough to have all grey hair and deep wrinkles around his eyes. He walked with a limp, which was assisted by a cane he had whittled when he was a much younger man. He would share a meal with you or sit in your garden a couple times a week, and he would tell you stories of war, his family, and the exciting adventures he had experienced throughout his long life.

"My wife passed on three years ago," he told you one morning while you watched the sun break through the clouds and warm up your vegetable garden, which was growing at a substantial rate. "She had grown quite ill for a long time. She suffered greatly, and it broke my heart to not be able to ease her burden."

You frowned and gently took his hand in yours. "I am so sorry, Julius. But I am sure she was grateful for every moment she had with you."

He smiled at you, yellowing teeth peeking out behind his lips.

"We had a lovely life together. I feel such sadness that you and Antonius were not afforded the same luxury."

"As do I," you sighed, then turned to look back out at your peaceful little garden. "But the time we had together was good. He was a kind and strong man. Marcus told me once in this very garden how he died. That he was saving the life of a young, scared soldier. He sacrificed himself for that young man, because that was the type of soul he had. Always looking out for others."

Julius ignored your slip of the tongue, using Marcus's informal name, and instead hummed quietly next to you as he considered your words.

"He sounds as though he would want you to find another," he said after a beat. "Am I wrong?"

You shrugged and fiddled nervously with the hem of your tunic.

"I suppose he would."

"So... will you allow yourself to find happiness once again?"

You pressed your lips together, gaze falling to your lap. "I would like to, but..."

You trailed off, cheeks burning from guilt. Julius gave you a moment before he spoke again.

"Do not tell me you cannot find any suitors. You are a beautiful woman."

You laughed and shook your head.

"I have not been interested in seeking out a courtship," you said, but Julius could hear the hesitation in your voice. Slowly, realization dawned on him.

"Acacius is a good man."

You whipped your head to the side, eyes wide with shock. "What are you implying?"

Julius shrugged. "He told me he has been here to visit you every day since the passing of your husband. He knows much about you, about your life. Spoke to me for what felt like hours before he left."

"Well, yes, he has been assisting me due to a past obligation he promised my husband," you assured him, sitting up straight.

"And what if he has been assisting you simply because he enjoys your company?" Julius asked. "That, perhaps, something has grown amongst the anguish, tethering his heart to your doorstep?"

You sputtered in surprise, struggling to come up with something to say. Julius just chuckled and patted your leg before standing.

"I am simply an old man," he told you, grabbing his cane and putting all his weight on the wood. "But I have experienced love. Despite what you may think, Acacius cares deeply for you, of that I am certain. And I do believe you feel the same for him."

He left you frozen on the worn bench in your garden, mind reeling and heart fluttering wildly in your chest. He spoke the very words you wished you could admit. Even in the solitude of your home, you could never say just how much you had grown to care for Marcus. And now that the words were out there, floating around in the summer breeze, you couldn't think about anything else.

Marcus had been gone nearly three months. Not one. Not two. But three whole months. Fear gripped your throat every passing day until finally you were walking along the shore one morning and far off in the distance, you could see the ships on the horizon. They were just a handful of black triangles, but you couldn't stop grinning. As each hour passed, they got closer and closer, pulling in groups of people all day long to watch, but they were so far away that by the time the sun set, all had retreated to their homes. It was too dark to watch the ships arrive, and citizens knew there would be a celebration in the morning, so everybody chose to go home and rest.

Everybody except for you.

You sat on the shore, the sea breeze whipping through your hair and cutting across your cheeks. You shivered from the spray of the ocean but you stood your post valiantly. When the first of the ships reached the docks, you stood and bounced nervously from foot to foot, yet still kept your distance.

It took nearly an hour for the ships to unload, but even in the darkness of night with only the dull flames from their lanterns to guide them, you saw a flash of bright red and your hands clamped excitedly over your mouth.

He was home. He lived and he was safe.

He was calling out orders to his men and ushering workers onto the ships to assist with the fallen and injured soldiers, his red cape draped around his broad shoulders, billowing in the wind. When he turned away to walk up the dock, head hung low and bones likely weary from battle, you couldn't hold back any longer.

"Acacius!"

His head snapped up and his eyes locked onto you immediately. Instantly, his face brightened and he smiled wide. His pace quickened to reach you and yours did the same until you finally found yourselves standing just a mere foot away, gazing up at his tired but happy face.

Neither of you knew what to say. Instead, you both let your eyes rake up and down the other, examining each other for any differences or maybe just to confirm it wasn't all a dream.

"You did not die," you breathed, both of you laughing.

"I did not," he said, smile still stretched across his face. A shiver shot down your spine at the sight of him, all tall and imposing and real. He quickly shed himself of his cape and wrapped it around your shoulders, pulling you close against his armor and breathing you in.

"You smell of the sea. How long have you been here?"

"All day," you confessed, already feeling warmer. He tutted under his breath and nodded towards the sleeping city.

"I will walk you home and tomorrow, we shall celebrate."

You allowed him to lead you through the streets, listening to him tell you tales, but none of battle. He told you of the different animals he saw, about a terrible storm that gripped the army for three straight days, and how a drunken solider swore up and down he spotted a mermaid and had the whole ship poking fun at him for the remainder of the voyage.

You walked past the statue of him that was erected in the center of the city after his last victory and you grinned.

"I have not seen you in so long, I began to think this is what you looked like."

Marcus rolled his eyes and tugged you closer. "I am sorry it took longer than expected. I trust Julius kept you in good company?"

"He was wonderful," you told him honestly, then nervously added, "but I would have preferred you."

If it wasn't so dark, you would have seen his face flush.

"I have been told we will remain home for several months now," Marcus told you. "Emperor Geta has sought a bride. He wishes to spend the next few months planning a wedding. It sounds as though his bloodlust has been assuaged for now."

"Ah, so you are saying I get you all to myself once again?"

Marcus laughed as his face grew even warmer than before. "So it seems, my lady."

He walked you up the familiar path to your door, waiting patiently as you unlocked it and hurried inside to fetch your lantern. When you returned, you sheepishly handed him his cape with your thanks.

He did not toss it over his shoulders. Instead, he gripped it in one hand while his eyes roamed over your beautiful face. He had missed you so much that it caused an ache in his chest the whole time he was gone, mind riddled with thoughts of you to the point where he felt like a madman.

Inviting him inside would be forward and untoward. You racked your mind for a legitimate reason, but you couldn't think of a single one. So, you resigned yourself to feeling grateful he was alive and unscathed, that you could sleep peacefully knowing he was home and you would see him tomorrow.

"You will be by in the morning?" you finally asked when the silence had gone on long enough. Marcus blinked and focused on your eyes.

"Yes," he said, "first thing. I shall be here as if no time had passed at all."

You grinned and bit your lip. "Wonderful. Then... I suppose I will release you. Please go home and rest, General, you have earned it."

He nodded in agreement, then forced his feet to move away from you, even though every fiber of his being screamed at him to go the opposite direction, into your arms.

"Sleep well," he croaked, eyes still glued to your face. You smiled shyly, the reaction so endearing it had his heart leaping.

"You as well. I am glad you are home safe."

He stumbled backwards but continued to gaze at you until you giggled and slowly shut the door. Once you were hidden in the safety of your home, you took a deep, ragged breath and fanned your face. Your pulse was racing and your blood was pumping so fast, you were certain you wouldn't sleep a wink all night. Instead, you set your lantern down and began to pace around your sitting room, wondering what you should do to exhaust yourself when suddenly, you heard a sharp rap on your door.

Without thinking, you rushed to open it, already knowing exactly who it was.

"Marcus," you breathed when you laid eyes on him once again. He looked slightly different now, a little more disheveled and filled with determination. "W-what is wrong?"

You watched his throat bob nervously before he stepped forward and cupped your face.

"My apologies," he said, "but I should have done this months ago."

His neck craned down and his lips pressed urgently against yours. You melted immediately, throwing one arm around the back of his neck to pull him inside so he could kick the door closed behind him. His tongue flicked across your lower lip and your jaw dropped, granting him access to deepen the kiss.

His hands dragged down your sides, fingers plucking at the fabric of your stola as you lead him further into your home.

When you staggered into your bedroom, his eyes popped open to look around. It was modest, just like the rest of your home. A soft, large enough bed sat in the middle of the room, along with a small wardrobe and a chair that sat next to it. It was quaint and unassuming, just like you.

"Wait," he whispered, breaking the kiss. His palms still pressed against your cheeks, fingertips curling around the backs of your ears. You looked up at him, lips wet and parted, panting for air. "Are you quite sure this is what you want? We can slow down, we can wait."

"I am sure," you replied. Your hands fell to the tie on your stola, blindly undoing the knot as you continued to hold his gaze. "I thought of you every day. I feared something would happen to you and you would never know my true feelings. My heart could hardly handle the stress."

You felt the fabric slip loose and fall to the floor. Marcus's eyes darted down and with pride blooming in your chest, noticed the hungry way he looked at your naked body for the first time.

"Thoughts of you were the only thing that kept me alive," he murmured, walking you backwards to lay you down on your bed. He began to unhook his armor, all the while his eyes remained roaming over you. "You saved me more ways than I could count, my lady."

You almost told him that he saved you, as well. But something about the look in his eye told you he already knew. After the loss of Antonius, you were not the only one who felt despair. You both were broken, the memory of Marcus's dearest friend, your husband, weighing heavy on both your hearts. But finally, after months and months, you came to the realization that Marcus was your husband's final gift to you.

Once he finally rid himself of the last of his clothes, you allowed yourself a moment to take him in. He was strong and broad, just as you imagined, and his body was littered with old scars. By all accounts, he looked like a rough man, but much to your delight, his touch was soft and his kiss was tender. When he climbed on top of you, settling his hips between your legs and sliding his tongue leisurely past your teeth, you didn't feel scared. You felt safe.

The tip of his cock nudged against your inner thigh when he shifted his weight. The subtle reminder of his thick length you had only gotten a glimpse of caused you to inhale sharply.

"You are so soft," he mumbled against your mouth. His calloused hand drifted up and down your side, gently grazing along your skin before it rested on your breast, cupping the heavy flesh in his palm and rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You moaned and lifted your back off the bed, pressing into his hold while your fingers got lost in his hair.

Something stirred inside of him when he heard the noise of pleasure escape your lips. His hips ground against you and his mouth trailed down to suck a mark on the sensitive skin of your throat, eager to pull more sounds from you. It took no time at all before you were whining and rolling your hips in rhythm with his, relishing in the feeling of his cock gliding between your folds, taunting you with his size.

The very same hand that took countless lives with the blade of his sword slipped between your bodies so he could stroke two fingers through your pussy, testing your arousal and making a pleased noise at what he found.

"Does that feel good?" he asked lowly. His chest had pressed against yours, desperate to feel as close to you as possible, with only his arm separating you.

"Yes," you gasped while wrapping your legs around his waist. It seemed you wanted to be closer, as well. "I wish to feel you. Please, my general, do not make me beg."

Marcus chuckled against your throat, fingers still petting at your entrance. "I am willing to wager you would sound so pretty begging for my cock."

You squirmed impatiently underneath him and nipped playfully at his scratchy cheek, making him smile.

"Fine. If I really must," you sighed, "please, Marcus. I have spent countless nights dreaming of all the ways you would make me yours." You felt his muscles tense and his lips paused against your neck. "I would lie in this very bed wondering what kind of lover you are, your favored position to take a woman, and how incredible it would feel to be split open by your thick cock."

Marcus reared back with a growl, fisting himself before lining up his cock at your opening. Blind with lust and need, he pushed forward, entering you with one swift pass. Your head flew back into the sheets at the sudden fullness, mouth opening and closing pathetically, unable to formulate a single sound.

"Breathe," Marcus reminded you when he fell forward to rest on his forearms which were braced on the sides of your head. "Breathe for me, my love."

You forced yourself to drag in a shuddering breath, the pressure between your legs stealing all your attention. You couldn't stop yourself from glancing down, mouth agape, to see where you were joined, almost as if you couldn't believe it unless you looked. Seeing yourself stretched around his considerable girth shook loose a shattered noise from the back of your throat. His nose brushed against the side of your head and you heard a similar noise from him when he followed your gaze.

"Look how beautiful," he murmured before slowly pulling back his hips, leaving just the tip of his cock nestled snugly inside your cunt. Your eyes widened when you saw how his length glistened in the candlelight, soaked with your arousal, then moaned his name into the night air when he sunk back inside you, parting your walls and carving a spot for himself to claim as his own.

"You are so tight," he grunted, jaw clenched from the way you squeezed around him every time he thrusted back inside you. "Next time, I will make you come from my tongue and fingers first. But tonight, I simply could not wait."

You huffed a breathless laugh and dragged your eyes up to meet his. "I had no idea the fearsome General of Rome was so indecent."

Marcus lifted the corner of his mouth in a smirk. "I look forward to showing you just how indecent I am."

With every thrust, he drove himself deeper, knocking the air from your lungs each time the tip of his cock met a place inside you that had your back arching off the bed and your nails leaving red marks down his back.

Your hips burned from how wide you stretched and your skin tingled everywhere his lips touched. He was gentle, but assertive, a lethal combination you didn't know you needed until it was between your legs, whispering filth in your ear while ramming himself inside of you over and over.

You whispered his name, voice broken and raspy, then said, "I am close... please, please-"

Before you had a chance to realize what was happening, he rolled over, pulling you with him so you sat slumped over his chest. You blinked and looked around before pushing yourself up. Straddling his hips, you gazed down at him, eyes unfocused and hazy with desire.

"I now see why I never felt the urge to seek out a wife," he whispered, watching when you got your bearings and began to bounce in his lap. His fingers gripped your hips, indenting your skin and helping you move. "None could ever compare to you. You are more beautiful than any flower, taste better than any sweet-" He groaned when you began to circle your hips faster, grinding down on him and breathing heavily. "Your eyes shine brighter than any star. And this fucking cunt-" he growled, roughly grabbing at your ass so he could pull you up and down on his shaft. You cried out, fingers scrambling for purchase on his chest. "Best fucking cunt I ever had. Gods above, Rome could be in flames and it would not keep me from between your legs."

"Marcus," you whined, gasping for air while the pressure mounted low in your belly. "So deep... s-so deep, I can hardly breathe."

"Come for me," he commanded, "come on my cock. I wish to see the look on your beautiful face when you fall apart."

Moments later, you did just as he asked. Your eyes squeezed shut but stars burst behind your lids as your orgasm rolled through you, hitting you in waves that had you cursing and crying his name. The blood rushing in your ears was so loud, you didn't even realize he was speaking until his massive hands lifted you off with an urgency that had your eyes snapping back open. When you looked down, he was furiously stroking his cock, chin tilted towards the ceiling and bronzed chest glistening with sweat.

As quickly as you could, you slid down to the floor, kneeling between his thighs and pulling on his free hand for attention. When he saw you gazing up at him with your mouth open, spent but eager for his seed in your mouth, he whimpered and pushed himself up.

"Stick out your tongue," he whispered. You did as he asked, a shiver shooting down your spine when you heard his voice so thick with desire.

The fat head of his cock rested on your warm tongue. When his eyes met yours, you preened at the instant look of relief you saw half a second before he spilled down your throat.

His jaw hung open wide, hypnotized as he watched thick streams of his seed paint your lips and tongue. It wasn't until he was milked dry and exhausted that he let go of his cock. With parted lips, he gently lifted your chin, closing your mouth and nodding at you to swallow. He gave you a satisfied smile when your throat bobbed and you licked your lips, shaking his head in disbelief.

"And you speak of indecency," he said, voice hoarse.

You giggled and climbed into his lap, slinging your arms around his neck and nuzzling against his throat. With a deep sigh, he leaned back, pulling you with him until your bodies were stretched out across your bed, limbs tangled together while you caught your breath.

"Will you stay?" you asked meekly as you traced invisible shapes over his chest. He kissed the top of your head and gently squeezed your arm.

"Of course."

You laid just like that, holding one another with only the sound of insects outside your window filling the silence. Eventually, Marcus shifted a bit and your chin tilted up.

"Are you..." he began, then you watched him swallow nervously as his eyes darted up towards the ceiling before trying again. "Do you feel any regret? Or... guilt?"

You turned so your chin rested on top of his chest. "No. Do you?"

He shook his head but kept his eyes pinned to the ceiling.

"Not anymore. But months ago, when I began to see you differently... yes, I did."

You pressed a soft kiss against his skin, making his eyes drift back down to you. "I believe I denied my feelings for a very long time for the same reason," you admitted, "but while you were gone, it afforded me the time to think. And I have concluded Antonius sent you to me for a reason. He requested you take care of me should anything happen." You shrugged and rested the side of your head against his shoulder. "I believe he trusted you more than anybody in his life. He would have been happier I chose you rather than some stranger."

He considered your words for a moment before nodding and turning on his side. You smiled up at him sleepily with your head resting on the inside of his bicep. He cupped your cheek and, after searching your eyes, slotted his lips with yours for a tender kiss.

"Do you think we can share a fruitful life together?" he asked with his thumb brushing absentmindedly against your cheek.

"Oh, yes. You ought to see my vegetable garden. I hardly need to go to the market for much any more," you joked.

He laughed, dark eyes sparkling in the dim candlelight.

"That is a good start," he said, and you giggled. When you both quieted down, he gave you another kiss before saying, "I would be honored to take care of you for the rest of our days, if that is something you want."

"It is," you replied a little too quickly.

His face lit up at your eagerness. "Good. Then let us rest. Tomorrow at the ceremonies, I shall announce our pending nuptials."

And although it felt a little fast, you didn't argue.

Marcus followed through with his promise, as he always did. The following morning, you both dressed in your finest clothes to attend the celebrations being held at the arena. It was never something you enjoyed attending, the ritual of sacrifice feeling barbaric, but on that particular day you didn't mind. You sat with Marcus in the emperor's box, a place you only ever saw from afar. He introduced you to the emperors and you tried your best not to let your nerves show. Before the games began, Marcus announced his plans to wed, which was met with polite acclaim by those seated in the box.

"That was a little scary," you admitted quietly to Marcus once everyone had found their seats and the first fight began. The loud cheering and yelling drowned out anything you said, but you still kept your voice low.

"Nothing to be scared of, my lady," he assured you with the squeeze of your hand. You smiled when he brought your knuckles to his lips for a brief kiss. "I told you I would protect you for the rest of our days."

Happiness bloomed in your chest, excited for what your future held. But there was one thing you knew for certain:

As long as Marcus was by your side, you would never know sadness again.

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[gifsbysimplysonia]

Authors who apologize for a high word count make me want to hug them so hard. THANK YOU for high word counts cuz to me, that means that your muse was on absolute fire and the fact that you did the work to follow that muse every step of the way AND share it with us? What a gift and an honor so again...thank you.

For anyone looking for a "quick summary" of my feedback?

Never has a GIF been more accurate cuz this story is DEFINITELY A PEARL CLUTCHER!

Ahead there be

THE SHEETS are chilled, crisp to the touch, cold enough that shivers tickle their way across exposed skin. A sigh is heard, loud enough for wandering ears as a figure moves about in the unmade, blanket muddled bed. The window had been left open, and as a result, cold air had poured into the room.

I live on a 2nd floor in a little hot box of a room, so this description is so detailed that I could feel it all and I'm jealous :)

Logan was not your boyfriend; he wasn’t even a friend. While he was cordial with the others in the mansion, he remained cold and indifferent toward you.

Ohhhh, one of these, eh? When the MMC acts like this, more often than not, it's cuz he thinks it's better to act this way then pursue OTHER feelings so I wonder if that's what we have here....

Though, you were only human and Logan fucking Howlett was a man worth embarrassing yourself over, especially when he looked like he did. He wasn’t, your mind huffed. He was, your heart retorted.

OMG I so relate to what she's going through and it's so precious to see her head and heart at war, over a dude who "doesn't like her."

Scarlett hues dust your cheekbones, lips bitten until they’re swollen and shiny with spit. Your breasts ache from inside the confines of the pink, lacy shirt, made worse with each labored breath you inhale as perky nipples brush the material. Your hole feels incredibly empty, the need to be filled overpowering. Your clit, puffy and neglected, throbs with pure, searing need. Another wave of aching pleasure from your wetness breaks your resolve— a shaky hand slipping from its place on your stomach down, down, down until cold fingers meet the mess between your thighs.

Again, the description is so meticulous that I can feel every bit of what's being described and WHAT TORTURE!

You were split between wanting to sink down onto his cock and rut your swollen nub against the curls that nestled the base of him and stuffing his dick down your throat, gagging around him until he came and coated your throat with his spend.

Cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuz, me too??? LORDT.

The 8.5 K words is - NO JOKE - quite smut centric. I'm not sure I've read that many words that were actually smut centric? But there are involved and erotic descriptions of her masturbating to thoughts of Logan and they are DELICIOUS and I won't quote anymore cuz YOU NEED TO GO READ FOR YOURSELF! But imagine the horror when someone comes KNOCKING AT HER DOOR right when she finishes?! I think we know where this is going, don't we?

Logan could fucking smell you. It’s a heady aroma thats so completely you, that his body feels deranged, just about ready to march up those steps and break down your door. He shakes himself loose from the metaphorical shackles of you and begins the journey to his room, trying to block out how delicious and syrupy you smell.

You know what's funny? Having read my fair share of super soldier smut as well, the MMC being able to smell the woman's arousal comes up A LOT. And it's such a weird mixture of feeling absolutely mortified but also really turned on (because the MMC is always aroused by the smell, fantasy come true).

From here on out, the storytelling focuses completely on the carnal which is ABSOLUTELY WIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILD. I'm not sure I've ever read smut this long in my entire life.

AND? It's good quality smut allllllllllllllll the way through. You gotta like it filthy, dirty talk (speaking of what they want to do to each other in explicity terms), and extremely detailed. I felt hypnotized all the way through it.

Logan is an excellent mix of gruff, rough, dominant and completely enamored of his partner. And his partner is a good foil for him because she wants him JUST AS MUCH, is vocal about it, and is as eager to please. These 2 have strong feelings for each other that are outlined in the story preceding the smut, and then reinforced once they are together. Logan in particular is in what I refer to as "worship" mode. He can't stop declaring "mine" and even in his own thoughts, thinking about the way she looks and how he wants to keep her to himself. When the emotions / connection between 2 characters is so well laid out for me as a reader, it intensifies ALL the physical stuff going on, and since this story is MAJORITY SEX? You can imagine how intense of a read it is!

It's an excellent pairing, and again, I've not read this much smut that is both out of this world with how detailed and involved it is, but also grounded in really good characterizations that kept me absolutely hypnotized to the end of this story. PLEASE GO READ IT, GUYS, BECAUSE WOW DOESN'T EVEN BEGIN TO COVER IT!!!

I legit am sweating lol

@logansbaby thank you so much for creating and sharing. What an absolute masterpiece!

GUILTY AS SIN - Logan Howlett

❥ summary: the entire time you’ve known logan howlett, you’ve tried to keep your longings locked. then, one night, all that effort goes to waste when you’re confronted about your feelings.

word count: 8.5k (IM SORRY!!!!)

pairings: logan howlett x fem! mutant reader

content warnings: 18+ CONTENT MDNI, masturbation, dirty thoughts, light choking, multiple orgasms, oral (reader and logan receiving), spitting, sixty-nining, scent kink, like one spank, underwear stays ON, slight hint of arousal from crying?, creampie, p in v (practice safe sex ty!)

❥ a/n: guys…… am i…. a whore? (yes) do i need to be locked up? (also yes). i started this when i was on my period so maybe that’s the reason this is so filthy? anyway i don’t know how it got to 8k of smut but it DID and i have nothing to say about that… also reader has a mutation it’s not super in depth but her hair changes to red in certain situations and she has red light/energy she manifest in her hands, kind of confusing but it’s okay. anyway please please enjoy and let me know your thoughts <3

— ˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚

‘I keep recalling things we never did

Messy top lip kiss

How I long for our trysts

Without ever touching his skin

How can I be guilty as sin?’

Guilty as Sin? - Taylor Swift

— ˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚

THE SHEETS are chilled, crisp to the touch, cold enough that shivers tickle their way across exposed skin. A sigh is heard, loud enough for wandering ears as a figure moves about in the unmade, blanket muddled bed. The window had been left open, and as a result, cold air had poured into the room.

Despite the fact that goosebumps adorn your body, it felt as though you were on fire. Huffs escaped parted lips, a charged hum zipping through your veins that only intensified each time you moved. You’d been trying to sleep for the past couple hours, trying to ignore the need thrumming through you, but had only managed to fail.

You turn on your side for possibly the twentieth time, but the position only worsens your state as the flesh of your thighs squeeze unintentionally, a wave of brief relief sent to your throbbing core. Tears brim your lashes, damp with frustration because fuck, your body was humming with lust and everything was so, so sensitive.

This was all Logan’s fault.

The man has been gone less than a week and yet, your body was practically vibrating with need, trembling with desire.

The feelings you harbor make you feel shameful and guilty for a handful of reasons.

Logan was not your boyfriend; he wasn’t even a friend. While he was cordial with the others in the mansion, he remained cold and indifferent toward you.

You pretended it never bothered you when he pointedly ignored your greetings in passing or refused to partner up with you. You didn’t understand what you’d done to upset him, to warrant his treatment of you as if you were the most annoying person on the planet. More often than not, you are the subject of the man’s pointed glare.

So, logically, your heart shouldn’t race at the mere thought of him. Nor should desire pool between your thighs whenever images of his sweaty form cloud your mind.

By definition, you were immensely smart; a genius with how you could understand what others could not.

Though, you were only human and Logan fucking Howlett was a man worth embarrassing yourself over, especially when he looked like he did.

He wasn’t, your mind huffed.

He was, your heart retorted.

A memory comes forward, one that has your cheeks blushing, your chest rising a little faster than before.

A couple weeks ago, you’d been up late, struggling to sleep and with the way it evaded you, wandering the halls had been your solution, in hopes of tiring yourself out.

But when you had walked down your hallway, you froze at the sight of a shirtless Logan in his room, the door left ajar.

A towel covered his head as he scrubbed away the wetness in his hair, and you desperately hoped he hadn’t noticed your presence. Water dribbled down his muscular body, and your eyes greedily watched each droplet descend down, glistening against the tan stomach you wanted to bite. What really had you drooling, however, was the thick, prominent vein that crept down into the waistband of his gray sweatpants. Said pants had your eyes wide with the prominent bulge tented in the material.

When you just barely caught yourself from moaning, you had dashed back to your room right away. You were wide awake still, but for a completely different reason. All you could think about was tracing your tongue along that vein.

If you’d fucked yourself that night to the thought of him and his glistening torso, no one had to know.

So theoretically, if you gave in to your cravings, it wouldn’t be the first time, but it certainly wouldn’t make you feel any less guilty.

Scarlett hues dust your cheekbones, lips bitten until they’re swollen and shiny with spit. Your breasts ache from inside the confines of the pink, lacy shirt, made worse with each labored breath you inhale as perky nipples brush the material. Your hole feels incredibly empty, the need to be filled overpowering. Your clit, puffy and neglected, throbs with pure, searing need.

Another wave of aching pleasure from your wetness breaks your resolve— a shaky hand slipping from its place on your stomach down, down, down until cold fingers meet the mess between your thighs.

A gasp sounds, melodic as it swirls with heavy breathes, fluttering around the room as you brush over your clit. Even through the material of your underwear, the slight pressure of your fingers made you mewl.

Flashes of Logan dance behind closed lids, your imagination running wild while you messily swirl over your bundle of nerves.

You wanted him so, so bad, in every way possible, it actually hurt, both your heart and core.

Your mind submerges your consciousness with thoughts of him; his pretty hazel eyes, the slope of his nose, the tufts of his brown hair. The muscles that were constantly on display, his thick thighs that you wanted to ride until you came all over him, and the huge bulge that was ever present in those flattering jeans of his (and if it was a reoccurring fantasy of yours to ride that delicious bulge over his jeans until you both came from just dry humping, again— no one had to know).

Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t stop thinking about Logan.

Him hovering over you, dog tags swinging in your face as he fucked you hard. Him picking you up and taking you against the nearest surface, lips trapped in an erotic kiss. Him prying your thighs open as he licked up your pussy, tongue dipping into your hole to lap up all the desire pooling, his lips wrapping around the swollen bud and sucking violently. Him holding your face lovingly as his hips thrusted his cock deeper into your throat, groans spilling at the gag you’d let out.

You were split between wanting to sink down onto his cock and rut your swollen nub against the curls that nestled the base of him and stuffing his dick down your throat, gagging around him until he came and coated your throat with his spend.

You didn’t even bother to remove the damp underwear, instead circling the engorged bud over the material— and oh, fuck. The roughness of the lace mixed with the delicious rubbing of your fingers send little moans tumbling from parted lips.

Your unoccupied hand slips under the shirt covering your chest and only settle once your nipple is pinched between determined fingers, rolling the pert bud in tandem with the amorous touch of your hand on your sex.

Pleasure nips at your pelvis, and if you were a little more aware, you’d be embarrassed at how fast you to reaching your peak. But, as it is, your brain is completely hazy with wanton thinking and the only thing on your mind was lessening the ache that pulsates deep within you.

And fuck, you’re so fucking needy for logan that you try to pretend it’s his fingers abusing your clit, his fingers tugging at the sensitive buds of your chest. You want his tongue between your thighs, licking up your desire and sucking your puffy bud into his pretty mouth.

Chest rising rapidly, you feel overwhelmed at the fantasies swirling before your eyes. Its far too much— the mix of your filthy desires and your fingers rubbing your nub have your legs quivering as wetness coats your hand.

“Logan, Logan, Logan—“ The chant of his name mindlessly falls from you, the feeling of your orgasm washing over you, threatening to pull you under those soaring, unforgiving waves of pleasure.

Eyes snap shut, ears ring with white noise, and your hips hump your hand pitifully— you were an absolute, writhing mess against the sheets.

The hair messily strewn around your pillow shifts then from its natural state to a dark red. Even with your eyes shut, you could feel the vermillion light whirling at your fingertips, begging to be released.

Your mutation was not one of subtlety.

Searing bliss coils in your lower tummy, your button tingling with the after effects of the orgasm that crashed into you. You sigh, because even though you just came, you felt far from satisfied. Your body buzzes with sweltering hunger, all the way from the top of your head down to the tips of your toes. Even if you fuck yourself dizzy with another orgasm, you knew it won’t satiate your body. Not completely, anyway.

Before you could slip your fingers inside your weeping hole, a loud knock echos through your room.

You still; desperate and hoping that if you ignored the noise, whoever was knocking would simply go away. But when another rhythmic thump comes a few seconds later, you huff.

It’s well past midnight at this point, so who in their right mind would be going about and slamming their fists on your door?

Apparently, you arent moving fast enough when the person has the nerve to knock for a third time, hand a little heavier than before. A growl, tinged with annoyance, slips out as you fling yourself up and off the bed.

You stomp to the door, ready to tell the person on the other side to fuck off.

But when you actually swing open the mahogany door, all the anger simmering beneath your heated skin disappears, along with your breath, as your eyes take in the sight before you.

Logan Howlett stands before you, seemingly angry as a frown etches deep on his face. He glares at you, hazel eyes swarming with exasperation and something unknown.

And little did you know, all of your craziest, fatal fantasies were about to come true.

❥

The moment Logan steps into the mansion, finally back from the complete shit show of a mission Charles had sent him on, he tenses instantly.

His fingers clench into fists, tight enough that the skin turns white. The adamantium claws threaten to poke through his knuckles as he inhales deeply.

Big mistake.

That sweet, sweet scent swarms his heightened senses, the intoxicating smell nearly making him dizzy. His heart speeds up, his stomach flutters, and his cock twitches in the confines of his jeans.

Logan could fucking smell you.

It’s a heady aroma thats so completely you, that his body feels deranged, just about ready to march up those steps and break down your door.

He shakes himself loose from the metaphorical shackles of you and begins the journey to his room, trying to block out how delicious and syrupy you smell.

He decides then, as his body finally moves up the steps, that ignoring you is the best option.

But as he gets closer to the hallway he shares with you (just his luck, by the way!), he realizes that plan is a joke.

He feels his control slipping, especially as the heady scent grows stronger, tinged with something else— something erotic and salacious.

Logan curses, his entire being rigid.

You’re aroused, the smell seeping under the crack of the door giving you away instantly.

The idea of you whining as your pussy drips slick between your thighs has him grinding his teeth, fingers flexing and unflexing in an attempt to harness the control back to his body.

Though, it goes out the window entirely as his body is apruptly outside your door, unconsciously drawn to the very essence of you.

There’s a reason Logan has kept carefully crafted distance between the two of you.

The minute he was introduced to you, a new member of the x-men and teacher for the school, he knew he was fucked.

From the first look shared between you, he knew.

A pretty smile had graced your lips, eyes filled with joy as you greeted him, a hand outstretched in his direction as your hair swayed with your movements. In your cute, little outfit (a pretty, white lace dress that kissed the tops of your thighs, matched with baby pink pumps that accentuated your legs), he thought you looked like a princess.

He had stayed frozen, however, because he was assaulted with the fucking smell of you. It was nothing like he’d encountered before, and he’d been around for over a century.

Your scent was so fucking sweet, vanilla and honey permeated his nostrils and right in that moment, he wondered if you tasted as sweet as you smelt.

He knew that he had to keep his distance, otherwise he’d become addicted to you in every sense. If he let himself, he’d worship the very ground you walked on. He couldn’t risk having the walls he’d spent so long building to crumble.

And in an instant, he was angry that his body had reacted this way to someone he’d never even met. He was angry he wanted to press sweet kisses on your face while simultaneously wanting to fuck you on his cock until you screamed his name.

So, with that, he’d made up his mind.

He had simply glared at you, refused to acknowledge your existence and stormed out of Charles’ office. And since that day, he’s tried his hardest to pretend you didn’t exist— if only to ease the way you constantly haunted his every thought.

He pretended it didn’t kill him to see how your face would crumble at his rude behavior, at how he avoided you at all costs. He couldn’t help it, though, because if he treated you how he wanted, like the princess you were, he’d never let you go.

A sudden noise shakes him from the depths of his mind, that carnal, sensual essence growing stronger by the second.

“Logan, Logan, Logan,” your honeyed voice whines, all airy and light.

And it’s almost comical how the telltale snikt! sounds immediately after because what?

What the fuck? He thinks, mind utterly destroyed at the revelation that not only were you seemingly fucking yourself, but you were moaning his name.

Logan growls, low and dangerous as his claws reveal themselves, cutting through the skin of his knuckles. His body feels unnaturally hot, practically set on fire. His cock now uncomfortably hard in his jeans, lustful essence bubbling at his tip and no doubt staining his boxers.

With the wafts of your pretty aroma and sounds of your lewd whimpers, he knows he can’t resist you any longer.

His hand lifts, claws retracting as his heavy fist slams on your door.

And the sight of you, face shiny with a sheen of sweat has him choking on his own saliva.

Tonight was the night his control finally snaps, despite months of work put into avoiding you.

Logan knows his animalistic side is about to be released; he’s going to fucking ruin you.

❥

You gulp, a hand resting on the door frame as you stand frozen because honestly, what the fuck?

You deduce that the universe hates you because why? Why would the man you’d been thinking of while masturbating be right in front of you?

It only dawns on you when Logan’s gaze swipes over your figure that you’re basically naked. Clad only in your blushed, frilly top and the matching underwear, the latter soaked with both your arousal and release.

You shrink beneath his eyes, warmth simmering hot on the apples of your cheeks, and your mouth opens and closes, yet no words follow.

“Uh— Logan, hey!” Your voice is shaky, and whether it’s from the power of your release or the nerves that bumble beneath your skin at the man before you, you couldn’t tell. All you know is that you want the ground to swallow you up whole.

Logan doesn’t respond, just continues to stare at you in a way that you don’t understand. You assume he’s just gotten home from the very long mission, and confusion settles over you as to why he was at your door, especially considering how he badly despises you.

You’re about to voice that exact thought when Logan beats you to speaking.

“I heard you.” His gruff tone is coated in something darker than you’d ever heard before.

For a moment, you’re perplexed, brows furrowing and raising before your eyes go comically wide.

And— oh, oh.

“Can smell you, too.”

Heat licks at your whole body, embarrassment threatening to envelope you entirely. Tears of horror tickle your lash line, because this was probably the most painful moment of your life. Not only does the man hate you, but now he’s heard you moan his name as you came all over your fingers? How pathetic are you?

You open your mouth, an apology heavy on your tongue. You need to say something to quell the panic flooding your body— you’re never going to get over this

Though, before you can even speak, Logan slams his mouth onto yours.

He holds your head softly, a deep contrast to the way his lips melt over yours. A moan slips from your open mouth, the feel of his lips sucking at your bottom lip feels immensely intense and so, so good.

Your arms wrap around his neck, fingertips tangling themselves in the hair at his nape like you’ve wanted to do since the very day you met him.

“Logan—“ you whimper against his mouth, trying and failing to understand what the fuck was happening as he slips his tongue inside your wet, warm mouth. “Logan.”

He ignores you, grunting against your spit, slick lips as his hands travel down your curves, until they find purchase on your ass, gripping hard. A choked gasp spills from you as he suddenly paws at you, picking you up effortlessly in his strong arms.

The idea of him holding you up with no hesitation has your hips shuddering forward without your permission. Vaguely, you feel him move past the threshold of your door, slamming it shut before pressing your body up against the wood.

Logan switches between licking your tongue and sucking meanly at your lips, until they feel full and swollen with his attention. You’re pliant— almost willing to let him do anything he’d like to you.

Almost.

As good as his tongue feels dancing with yours, confusion still settles over your mind. Perhaps this was a dream and if that’s the case, you never want to wake up.

“Wait—wait.” You pull back, the questions swirling inside probing you until it’s impossible to ignore.

“Huh, baby?” Logan groans, teeth pulling at your bottom lip before sucking at the swollen skin.

Babybabybabybabybaby— the pet name clouds your senses for a second, a rush of arousal pooling at your hole. You want to cry at how that simple, simple word makes you feel.

“Stop that.” You mumble, pulling your head back and lips out of his reach.

Logan stares at you, silent but waiting as he waits for you say whatever is on your mind. Frankly, he wants his tongue to be buried deep in your cunt right about now, but, details.

“What is going on?” Breathless, the question settles between you, causing Logan’s brow to raise.

“Well, my tongue was just in your mouth—“ you slap his chest, face turning warm at his bluntness.

“Not that. I’m— why are you here? Why are you kissing me when you can’t stand me?” Your voice is quiet, insecurity present in your tone. Nimble fingers grasp the dog tags that rest on his chest, and you’ve never been grateful for it.

At that, Logan’s face scrunches up, confusion floating around his irises, lips curving downward.

“What are you talking about?” If it wasn’t for the genuineness in his voice, you would’ve smacked his chest again at how clueless he was.

“What do you mean? You’ve made it very clear how you feel about me; you’ve despised my entire existence the moment we met— wait, I can’t even say that because you didn’t even have the decency to greet me!”

Frustration hovers over you heavily, enough to snap you out of the lustful spell Logan often inflicts upon you. You slide down his body, ignoring the quiver of your cunt when you make contact with his jean clad bulge. You push at his chest, needing distance to ensure you actually get your words out and don’t end up back with his tongue down your throat.

“I don’t hate you.” Logan grunts out, staring at you as you pace the wooden floors of the room. Vaguely, he’s paying attention, but he can’t be blamed for the way his eyes focus on the way your ass shifts with each step, the plush skin so inviting as the lace cup each cheek. “What’re you on about?”

Frankly, Logan’s pissing you off. The vague answers are getting on your nerves, enough that you feel yourself snap.

Your hair swiftly turns bright red, a scarlet blossoming over the strands until they coat them completely. Your emotions could never quite be concealed, not with the way your hair would turn different variations of red when you were angry, furious, sad, happy, aroused.

“You’ve been a dick to me, treating me like shit for no reason and now you think you can just waltz in here and kiss me like that? You think you can pretend to want me when we both know that’s not true?”

Balls of fiery, red energy bloom at your fingertips, and though you stand in your pretty pink assortment, you look the part of threatening.

It’s too bad the abrupt display of your mutation, mixed with fiery words, has Logan’s cock jerking with want.

“Sometimes, I question whether or not you’re actually a genius.”

And just like that, you feel the words like a punch to the gut. You’re so mad, so blind by the intense emotions you feel for Logan, that you feel those pesky flames of energy moving up your wrist and forearm, a telltale sign of your anger.

“Fuck you, Logan.” You hiss, your fingers hot with the heat coursing through them.

What pisses you off more, to which your hair and eyes darken to a dangerous maroon, is the fact that Logan wears a faint smirk, watching you with humor as if you aren’t showcasing how pissed you are.

“Are you done yet?” Logan takes a step closer, uncaring of the way your mutation flares furiously at his presence.

“Logan, leave me alone. I don’t need you to sit here and pretend to want me. I don’t need you to make fun of me, either.” Huffing, you glare up at the man before you, who stares back just as pointedly.

You turn around, back facing him as you go to enter the attached bathroom when all at once, you’re spun back around by a hand on your nape, your neck in a delicious tight grip as Logan pulls you into his body, smashing his mouth on yours for the second time tonight.

Your body betrays you, a desperate whimper ebbs out at how fucking good Logan’s lips feel on yours.

His teeth bite down on your top lip, before suckling sweetly to combat the pain flourishing there. You moan, mouth falling open as he messily kisses you. The intoxicating taste of him swarms your tastebuds, his tongue swirling with yours in a way that leaves you dizzy with need.

A string of spit connects between your mouths as Logan pulls away, chuckling meanly when you promptly follow the warm wetness of his lips. A rough hand grips your throat again, tight enough to leave you feeling breathless but delicious enough to make your cunt squeeze around nothing.

“So that’s what you think, princess? That I don’t want you?” Logan’s fingers flex around your throat, gripping at your jaw to capture all of your attention. As if you were anything but than enamored with him. “You think that’s what I’ve been doing, huh?”

You can only stare up at him as your heartbeat rings loudly through your eardrums. A hand goes to tug at his shirt, an attempt to steady yourself, but Logan’s faster as he grabs your wrist.

“Answer me.” He whispers hotly as the hand holding yours captive moves to intertwine your fingers.

The touch of him, the hold on your throat and roughness of his fingers in yours, renders you speechless. You’re so overcome with your emotions that you can only manage to nod. The weight of you goes limp in his hold, silently begging him to do something to satiate the hunger burning every inch of you.

“Words, baby. Got nothing to say now, huh?” He taunts, his grip leaving your neck in favor of thumbing at your lips.

“Yes— I, it’s what it’s seemed like, what you’ve made me feel. Thought you hated me.”

Logan’s nose twitches, no doubt smelling your arousal as it leaks into the material covering you, ruining the lace.

“Couldn’t be more wrong,” He groans, pushing his thumb past the soft of your lips. His knees nearly buckle at the feel of your mouth closing and sucking his thumb, tongue rolling up against the skin as though it was his cock instead. “Shit, baby.”

You whine around his finger, eyes fluttering up at him in a way that has his dick aching for you.

“Fuck, been dreaming about you since the day we met. Been dreaming of you in every way possible.” He admits, a smile tugging at his lips at the way you freeze, lips leaving his thumb with a ‘pop’.

“What?” It’s a whisper, barely audible but he heard it all the same. The butterflies in your stomach are now having a complete rager, bolts of anxiousness kissing your skin.

“Of course.” Logan leanes down, pressing a kiss to your wet lips. “Knew the second I saw you you’d ruin me, so I just… stayed away. I never meant to make you think the worst. M’sorry, honey.”

This was not the way you’d expected tonight to go.

It’s as though all the confusion, anger, and sadness drain from you and, in its place,its full of the tremulous feeling of the admission.

And despite the fact that you’d fucked yourself thinking about him, and he’d heard, you feel incredibly shy. You drop your head to his hard chest, your hands squeezing his own where he holds them.

“I don’t know what to say.” You utter, brain all muddled and no other thoughts come forth as Logan haunts every inch of your mind. You feel like an idiot, even though Logan had acted like a dick for the better part you’d known him.

Logan simply lifts your head, invading your senses as his nose bumps yours.

“You were a dick.” It’s spoken factually, making him huff against your face.

“I know.”

“You could’ve kissed me months ago.”

“Can I kiss you now?”

His quick reply leaves you flushing, but when you nod, his lips are back on yours instantly, in their rightful place.

The kiss is messy; hot, wet, and dirty. Logan groans when you jump up, strong arms catching your thighs in a tight grip. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you lose yourself in the thrilling taste of his mouth. You unconsciously start humping him, dragging your drenched panties across his hard dick.

You suck on his tongue before capturing his lip between your teeth, nails dragging down his shoulder blades. A loud, feral growl escapes Logan, and without another thought, he throws your pliant body on the bed.

And at the sight of you, Logan feels like he’s about to come right then and there. In your skimpy outfit, so much plush, soft skin is on display. The hair tumbling from your shoulders has turned a dark cherry color during your kiss, and your hands are tickled with red energy that’s twirling up your arms, not unlike the way vines thread onto an old home.

This time, though, he knows you’re not upset, but instead, aroused.

He can smell the way your slick seeps from your fluttering hole, how it sticks to the skin of your thighs.

And fuck, he wants to sink his face right in front of your pussy and inhale until he’s woozy with the complete perfume of you.

So, that’s exactly what he does.

Your eyes widen as Logan drops onto the floor in front of the bed, yanking your body to the edge. Your lower half is completely in his grip, and he stares at you for a moment, eyes hazy with lust. Then, he’s pulling your pussy all the way up to his nose. The feel of him so close to your puffy lips has you clenching, even more so when he lowers his head and fucking sniffs you.

“Fuck, baby. Been dreaming of this since the minute I saw you. Smells so fuckin’ sweet.” Logan inhales deeply again, smattering messy, open mouthed kisses to the skin of your upper thigh. “You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to throw you over my shoulder, get you alone and eat this pussy.”

“Logan!” You whimper out. The sound is completely feeble but you couldn’t care less, not with the way he’s sucking bruises into your skin. “Please, please.”

Spurred on by your whines, he sinks his canines into the skin, where your thigh meets the lips of your core.

Pain simmers into pleasure as the sting is followed by his tongue. Rosy splotches decorate your upper thighs, a preview of the bruises that will glaze the skin tomorrow. Logan does this until he’s satisfied with how his teeth imprint the skin. It’s as if it’s his way of solidifying that you’re his, like he’s staking his claim with his bruises smattering your thighs.

At some point your hand finds purchase in his hair, pawing at the tufts and tugging his face closer to where you need him most. He groans, the pain at his scalp sending jolts of desire throughout his body.

He sneaks a look up at you, and shit, you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. Your head is thrown back, sending those rebellious, red strands fluttering around you. Your hips are canting up to his mouth, and the smell of you, mixed with the previous orgasm you’d worked out before he interrupted, sends his senses in overdrive.

He knows he’d tortured you both enough when you can’t stop shivering with need, when his own hips brush against the edge of the bed. Without hesitation, Logan licks a long, wet stripe up your clothed pussy, suctioning around your enlarged clit.

The taste of you, heady, sweet, and so distinctly you, floods his tongue. He knew you’d taste good, but this? Oh, he wanted to drink you up all hours of the day.

With a growl, Logan tuggs the lace aside and loses it. He sucks, licks, and mouthed at your cunt like a man starved. His tongue dips into your hole before licking up and down your slit.

Moans of his name sound around the walls of your room, along with the filthy noise of his lips sucking your swollen button.

You’ve never felt like this before; the way he’s eating you out has your entire body on fire, and if you could see yourself, you’d see how ruby colored lines swirl all around your hands, how your hair practically glows with the intensity of your feelings.

He’d been attracted to you the minute he saw you— but the way you look when your mutation is at work? The way your hair grows shades of intoxicating reds and the way the fiery energy glows from the tips of your fingers to your elbows? Oh, how it fucking wrecks him. He just wants to keep you captive in this bedroom for all of eternity, if only to see you like this all the time.

“Feels so fucking good, fuck.” You’re a blubbering mess, hands tugging Logan’s hair hard, resulting in a moan that vibrates your pussy.

“Mine.” He grunts, and you gasp at the sensation of saliva as he spits directly onto your clit. “My fuckin’ pussy.”

Then, he latches his soft lips around your puffy bud and sucks hard. His dirty words and lucious mouth have your thighs shivering, hips bucking with insatiable need.

Like you’d done when you were alone and thinking about him, whimpers of ‘Logan’ slip past bitten lips as you rut against his face.

“That’s it, baby, say my name. Taste so fuckin’ good.” He humms against the slick, swell of your pussy.

A stream of ‘fuckfuckfuck’ is audible from open lips, forming an ‘o’ as the rush of delicious, hot pleasure pours over you completely.

As you come down, the pleasure fizzles out and overwhelming bursts of overstimulation bubble over you. Logan continues to lap at your wetness, groaning at your taste.

“S’too much, Logan.” Shaky hands grip his brown locks and you try and fail to bring the man away from your throbbing hole. His tongue laps at the taste of you, dipping in as deep as he could to savor every last drop. “Oh, fuck.”

“Taste too fuckin’ sweet, baby. Can’t help it.”

Logan grips tightly at your thighs, cruelly pinching at the flesh as he devours your pretty clit.

He can’t get enough, and seemingly, neither can you, with the way you buck into his warm, slick mouth despite the crushing pleasure. The material of your underwear snaps against you as Logan’s grip loosens, but he still eats you out as though there was no barrier.

His soft lips and dangerous tongue make it difficult to do anything but take the mind-numbing pleasure.

He’s content to stay here; between your gorgeous thighs and ravage your cunt all night, pull orgasms from you until you forget everything except the syllables that make up his name.

Except, the words that come from you have him still against you, his cock jerking and responding immediately to the addictive tilt of your voice.

“Logan— Logan, wanna suck your cock. Please.”

It was as though you were made for him— every inch of you riles him up like no one else has before and he has to take a deep, deep breath to refrain from coming in his jeans like a damn virgin.

With one last lick up your lace covered cunt, his face is suddenly above yours, the sight is lethal. The entirety of his lower face wears your wetness with pride, glistening and gleaming in the lowlight of the room. His eyes look animalistic, the hazel taken over by the black of dilated pupils.

Logan looks at you like he wants to fucking destroy you. You know without a doubt you’d let him.

A sweet kiss is pressed against your lips, a warm caress of his tongue on yours, the musky taste of your pussy causing you to part your thighs further. You whine once more, because you crave the heady taste of his cock; your mouth salivates at the thought of his tip heavy on your tongue.

“Easy, honey. Can smell how bad you want it.”

If you were less intoxicated by lust, you’d be mortified at the knowledge Logan can smell your arousal right now.

“Logan.” Pathetic whimpers and moans against his mouth have him pulling back, gritting his teeth to force himself to get a grip. It doesn’t work, not with the way you’re spread out below him, face pretty with a tiny that vaguely mimics the hue of your top and panties.”Please.”

How is he meant to last when you sound like that? All fucked out from just his tongue alone?

“C’mere’.” Logan mutters, tugging your body all the way up his chest, maneuvering you until your pussy is hovering above his mouth, facing his cock.

Completely fucked out, saliva pools in your mouth at the sight of his bulge, massive even in the confines of jeans.

You’re confused as to why Logan has put you on his chest, but it makes sense when he pulls your thighs down, mouth finding your wet, sopping sex once more.

You cry out, hips jolting at the way his tongue push the fabric away from your puffiness, immediately wrapping around your clit. At the way you were shaking on his face, unmoving besides the subtle thrusts of hips, he stops.

“Lo—“

“Go on then, baby. Suck my cock, just like you wanted.”

And oh, you both feel the slick that follows after those rasped words fill the air.

Only once you undo that damn belt buckle and pull both his jeans and boxers down, just enough to see the way his cock bounced out, wet at the red, swollen tip, does Logan resume licking up your pussy.

Fueled by the return of those talented lips, you lean forward without another thought.

Licking from base to tip, a moan vibrates against his cock as you hum, a taste so distinctly Logan making you feel light and warm. You lick up and down him sloppy, spitting on the tip of him as you slick his dick up, before finally wrapping your lips around him.

“Fuck.” His growl is borderning on feral; his teeth finding purchase on your asscheek and biting, an attempt to ground himself. It only serves to have his hips jump at the feel of you whining on him, sucking him down so fucking good. “Fuck, knew you’d be good with that pretty fuckin’ mouth.”

He’s so focused on the way you’ve started bobbing up and down the length of him, overcome with euphoria at the warmth and wetness as you suck and swirl your tongue, that he’s stopped his attention to your pussy, something he’s only reminded of as you wiggle impatiently over him.

“Sorry, princess, you’re driving me fuckin’ crazy.” He grits out, fingers gripping the flesh of your thighs at the little ‘hmph!’ you let out, pulling off his cock.

Though he can’t see you, he knows there’s a string of spit that spans from your swollen lips to his pulsating cock. He shutters, overwhelmed by you entirely, before burying his face into your weepy cunt.

”Oh! Logan, feels so good!” With a pathetic little whimper, his cock fills your mouth again as you sink down, satisfied with the way his tongue is licking at you.

A blend of moans sound as he wraps his lips around your puffed clit, as you ease his cock into your throat.

Logan’s eating you out in a frenzy, crazed by the tang of you soaking his mouth, chin, and nose. Despite the warmth bubbling in his stomach, he’s determined to make you come on his tongue again.

When thick fingers nudge into your hole unexpectedly, you mewl at the blissful feeling.

Logan’s fingers work steadily inside you in tandem with the way his mouth suckles divinely at your button. You’re an absolute mess— grinding down on his face, riding his digits, gagging as Logan’s hips match the pace of his fingers, grunts vibrating against you as he fucks your throat.

Logan curls his fingers in a way that has you seeing every fucking color of the rainbow. You come, moaning around the base of his cock and rocking back and forth on his fingers and mouth, muffled sobs spilling from your stuffed mouth.

When he feels you shivering on his tongue, overstimulated and sensitive, he pulls away from your center, the soaked fabric of your panties falling back into place once more.

Your mouth is still full of him, lips lazily sucking him down as your body tries to get ahold of the white hot pleasure still coursing through you.

“C’mere, baby.”

It’s a soft whisper against your thigh, but it settles over you, his soothing voice swirling around your shaky body like a warm blanket. Letting his cock fall from your lips, you scramble as fast as your body allows before you find yourself straddling Logan, staring down at the man with cloudy, wet eyes.

And maybe Logan is sick— because the sight of tears spilling over your cheeks has his cock unbelievably hard, a growl threatening to tumble out at the way your pretty, crimson hair spills over your shoulders.

Still, he wants to make sure you’re okay.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Logan watches at the way a small smile graces your features, even as tears continue to glisten your lash line. “You okay?”

“Nothing's wrong, just feel so good.” Your voice is a little hoarse, no doubt from the way his dick was fucking your whiny mouth. Your voice is still the sweetest thing he’s ever heard, those few words going straight to his dick.

Logan feels his own lips tug upwards as you speak. Even though he’s fucked you silly and stolen two orgasms, he tenses with desire as he notes the want dancing in your irises.

“Good.”

“Mhmm.”

There’s a beat of silence, a moment where hungry eyes lock in on one another, sensual energy threatening to burst.

Then, in a flash, lips are locked and tongues whirl together familiarly. It’s a hot, lewd kiss filled to the brim with desire— the passion almost too much with how it lights up every inch of your bodies, a fire threatening to spread.

Neither of you are sure who moved first— but it doesn’t matter because the way Logan’s hand wraps around your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail in a tight grip, steals your attention.

If someone were to see the two of you, they would see how desperate and needy you both were.

You’re kissing Logan’s top lip, biting before soothing the sting with a sweet, soft suck. Your thighs are spread over his own entirely and your position has your cunt settling over his cock nicely. Logan’s free hand grips the skin of your ass tight, guiding as you grind against him, the soaked panties catching on the tip of him with each thrust. The fingers tangled in your hair are unforgiving, tugging harshly as Logan grunts into your open mouth.

You’re both a mess of passion and lust— and your body thrums with the idea of his cock inside you.

“Such a good girl, that’s it. Fuck—“ Logan nearly whines, the feel of your wetness on his bulge has him trapping your lips in another all consuming kiss.

Your hands, lit up with energy, find purchase in his pretty hair, yanking as he kisses you vulgar, because everything is somehow too much and not enough.

“Logan— need you. Need you so bad, baby.”

Logan wants to eat you up entirely— somehow you’re still not satiated, rubbing your slick all over his lap and begging him for more. If he was a better man, he would’ve fucked you already. As it is, he likes it a little too much hearing you beg for him.

“Shhh, you got me, honey. I’m right here.”

“Fuck me, please. Need you inside, Logan.”

There’s tears in your eyes again, ready to spill over if the ache between your thighs isn’t soothed in the next five minutes. You’re clinging to him, hips stuttering because it’s just not enough and you both know it.

“My poor baby.” He sighs, the words somehow a mix of condescending and genuine and it makes you cry out. “So needy, huh?”

“Just for you.” The way you say it, it’s a message you both understand— you need him in every way possible, not just sexually.

He wonders if you know just how badly he needs you, especially now that he’s got a taste of you.

“I’m yours—“ you start, but it’s cut off by the squeak you emit when you’re suddenly flipped over, Logan’s muscular form hovering over you, his dog tags swinging between you.

“You’re mine.” It’s not a question, but a statement and it sends a thrill over you.

“Yours.” You’re nodding, eyes wide and so fucking pretty that it makes Logan squeeze his hands, the metal of his claws threatening to break through the skin.

He pulls his shirt off then, pride filling his chest at the way your eyes glaze over, a lip taken between your teeth as you stare at the vein that leads to his cock, which is pulsing with the promise of release.

He doesn’t comment on your lustful eyes, instead tracing his fingers down your body, until he reaches the hem of your baby pink lace. It doesn’t leave much to the imagination but Logan might break something if he doesn’t see your tits in all their glory.

You get the message, leaning up and slowly pulling the fabric from your chest, your breasts and midsection on full display. If he hadn’t already eaten you out twice, you would’ve moved to cover your taut nipples. Instead, you grip the chain of his necklace and pull him back down with you, sighing when you’re chest to chest.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” He says, pecking your lips once, licking a stripe down your throat. Wetness coats both nipples as his tongue swirls over them. “Do you know how badly I’ve wanted to have you under me?”

You moan, nails digging into his shoulder blades at the fluttery feeling his lips bring, deep enough to elicit blood from his skin. Logan groans, head tipping back as his hips thrust down suddenly, the tip of his cock ramming into your clit.

“Fuck, Logan.” Your hands span the expanse of his back, scratching each time he bumps your button just right. His jeans are still on, resting just below his thighs and something about the way he couldn’t even get up to properly take them off makes you shudder.

He’s rutting against you now, dick rubbing filthy over your panties and it dawns on you then that he hasn’t come yet, too preoccupied with taking care of you.

Determined, you slide one hand onto his asscheek, pushing him further into you, while your other grips his chin, pulling his mouth to yours in a slick, open-mouth kiss.

“C’mon Logan, fuck me, please.”

Logan turns into something animalistic then— flipping you over without warning, caging you between his arms. Your gasp is audible as he yanks your wet lace to the side, before thrusting forward, and fucks his cock into you with one thrust.

“Oh my god, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me—“ the feel of Logan finally inside you had you absolutely fucking drunk on the feel of him.

“Tryin’ to, baby.” He grits, arms flexing beside your head, fingers intertwining with yours as he sinks into you, inch by inch, until you were filled to the brim.

Logan’s body covers yours, lips pressing all over your shoulder blades to soothe the little whines you let out at how fucking full you felt. It’s everything you want and more— you want to memorize the feel of him, every ridge and vein as he bottoms out.

“Baby,” he grunts, fingers flexing with yours as he stays still, for your sake. “So fuckin’ tight, so fuckin’ wet.”

And it was true— despite the fact that he’s huge, he slipped in easily because of the mess you created, a slick mix of your come and desire that seeps from you.

“Logan, fuck me, please.” You ask so sweetly, as if you weren’t impaled by his cock right now.

With that, he slips out of you slowly, before fucking into you hard, deep. Then, he fucking ravishes you— creating a steady, fast paced rhythm and fucking you dumb with his cock.

You’re a whiny mess. Your hair grows darker, hands glittering between his grip each time he slams into you, each time your cunt squeezes around him.

Completely cock drunk, your back arches, ass up and hips slamming back against his with your cheek pressing into the mattress as you sob.

You’re so fucking needy that his own thighs are wet with your desire— he growls at the sight, fucking you even faster.

“You’re mine. Have been since you came here.” Logan growled, releasing your fingers in favor of gripping your hair and pulling you up until you were pressed into his chest. “My fuckin’ girl.”

“Yours!” You cry, tears rolling down your face. Your entire body jolts with pleasure, and you feel like you couldn’t breathe, not with how euphoria threatens to smother you. “M’so close!”

“I know, honey, I know. Can feel you fuckin’ squeezin’ around me.“ Logan moans out, pushing you back down into the mattress and finding purchase on your hips, pulling you back hard. “Gonna come all over me?”

You don’t answer, instead crying out as you feel a sharp flash of pain on your asscheek, Logan’s hand swift and quick. The pain mixes into pleasure when he rubs at the red skin, pressing sweet kisses on your back.

He wishes you could see yourself right now; maybe then you would understand why he was so intoxicated by you.

Your pretty body is bent over, ass up and face in the sheets as whimpers seep out. The lace that drove him crazy is yanked to the side, grazing his cock each time he drove deeper inside you. You’re so beautiful like this, he wants to keep you forever.

Sweet, little ‘uh,uh’s’ fill Logan’s ears as he speeds up, pulling you back up once more against his chest. He wants to be as close as fucking possible, the feel of your skin on his almost searing.

You turn your head back, lips seeking out his own. He kisses you, sucking at your lips as he continues to fuck you vigorously.

The fluttery feeling of your cunt squeezing around him suddenly sends him over the edge— low groans falling in your open mouth as hot, searing spurts of come coat your walls.

Knowing that Logan had lost it, finally giving into the temptation like you’d been doing all night, has you whining as your own orgasm surrounds your entire being.

“Baby—“ Logan thrusts shallowly, riding your orgasms out as long as he could; if he could, he’d never leave this feeling behind. Seemingly, you agreed as your nails dig into his forearms that hold you up, eyes squeezing shut at the overpowering bliss tingling everywhere. “I got you, it’s okay.”

“Logan, fuck!” It comes out as a huff, head against his sweaty neck, body completely limp in his hold.

You’d never been so incredibly sex-dazed in your life. From this moment onward, Logan has ruined you for anyone else.

Though, you hope there isn’t anyone else.

Logan kisses your head before untangling from you; a smirk dancing across his usually gruff features at the little whine let out as he pulls out. He gently rolls you onto your back, laying your head tenderly on the pillows. It was such a stark difference to the rough way he’d fucked you minutes prior, but butterflies flutter around your stomach all the same.

You watch his eyes trail lower, landing on the mess between your thighs.

Logan is mesmerized by the sight; your pussy is destroyed , so wet with his come seeping out of your hole. Mindlessly, he lowers himself until heieye level with your sex. Sans any warning, his fingers are thrusted back inside.

He ignores your hiss in favor of trying to push his come back inside, to keep you full of him. His eyes meet yours, watching as your chest rises as you observe him. There’s a glint in your eye that has his heart stuttering.

“I want to kiss you.” You whisper, soft and a little bashful, as if he didn’t have his fingers inside you. You look too fucking perfect, hair returning to its original color, eyes cloudy with unspoken words, a smile gracing your face.

How could he deny you when you looked like that?

Logan kisses your clit once, enjoying the way you jump before removing his fingers.

With those same digits, he sticks them in his mouth, sucking the flavor of you both and humming. He could hear the way your heart picked up at his actions. He releases them with a loud ‘pop’, before finally coming back to you.

He hovers over you, and like you’d done earlier, soft hands pull at the chain until his lips melt with yours in a soft kiss. Logan pulls back, resting his head on yours, eyes connecting with yours.

“Hi.” You giggle then, nose bumping his in the proximity.

“Hi, baby.” Logan kisses your lips once more, before rolling beside you. You would’ve whined at him if it weren’t for the way he immediately pulls you onto his chest.

With your limbs tangled, a kiss pressed to your forehead, you think this could be heaven and if so, you never wanted to leave.

It was quiet for a moment— the two of you content to listen to one another’s heartbeat, the breaths that fall from lips. Then, you break the silence, because of course you do.

“Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“Just so you know, I’m expecting you to take me out before you get me like this again.” You mutter against his slick chest, where your head rests as you wrap yourself around the man like a koala.

A deep laugh fills the room, chest rumbling because what the fuck?

He’s fucked you, with his mouth and cock, and now you’re laying on him as his come seeps out of you and you’re demanding him to take you out?

He was going to in the first place, but he thinks it’s cute you decided for him.

Logan may be a man that’s been alive for almost two centuries, practically immortal, but it’s completely possible you’ll be the death of him.

˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚ fin

tags: @strangererotica @cevansbaby-dove @morganyourone @asiancupid

[colorlessjay]

I feel dumb asking but—is your S16 Cas still an angel or no?

Yes and no? I have reasons for both

Castiel being an angel still would make sense especially given Jack resurrecting him, and Cas helping rebuild heaven as an open world server. I always HCed that Jack made Castiel into a somewhat of a new generation Archangel under his design. Plus, Cas deserves his powers back after everything he's gone through, he probably still hates peeing

On the other hand, the idea that Cas chooses to relinquish his grace so that he can grow old with Dean is also something I thought of. Through the series I liked seeing Cas grow old and evolve, I would think he would like to have the full human experience with Dean

SO for my AU, I thought "I why not both?" so here's the story:

After Jack brings Cas back from the empty and asks for his guidance for heaven, Jack notices Castiel's longing as he stared down into earth, watching the Winchesters. Castiel's confession of love has made him hesitant to go down and see his friends again. He feels awkward and guilty and generally just hopes to wait until the Winchesters grow old to see all the work him and Jack have done

Jack, however, refuses to let his father wait another eternity before he gets his happy ending too. With heaven basically on autopilot, he thinks him and Cas are deserving of a break to enjoy humanity as it is

So, he basically shoots Castiel back down to earth the same place him and Dean first met, the warded barn. Where Dean was currently waiting, having heard Jack's prayer to go to that location for something important.

Castial comes in but there's no flashing lights, just a faint heavenly glow that lets Cas know he has enough grace to use his wings and fly back to heaven whenever he wishes. But he's not a full angel anymore. He can grow old, he can get tired and hungry, and he can feel his heart beating louder and louder as Dean rushes at him from across the barn, and pulls him into a bone crushing hug

And that little bit of grace is enough for him to still see Dean's soul, the same one he fell in love with

----

but that's my version of events. Honestly people can make their own interpretations!

I'm interested in what people think!

[would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend]

It’s time to break down the top ten pets we covered this past year before we move into the next! These pokémon would each make good house pets for most owners, and come with our official recommendation. This post will give a brief overview of what makes each candidate a top option. A little later, a separate post will provide the links to the full posts for each one. Let’s get into it!

10. Plusle and Minun

Stand-out pokémon from a type that tends to rank pretty lowly on this blog, both plusles and minuns would make good starting pets for someone interested in Electric-Type pokémon. While you’ll need to be careful of their paralyzing moves, some experts believe that these pokémons’ passive electric powers can have surprising health benefits. That being said, their ease of care isn’t the best (feeding these little friends will be more than a little expensive).

9. Piplup

Piplups have quite the reputation for being unfriendly due to their prideful, haughty attitude, but once you break through that prickly exterior they can make a great pet. They aren’t the best Water-Type pokémon in this top ten, but if you’re looking for a new aquatic friend then a piplup may be a good choice for you (so long as you don’t mind swimming in the cold!).

8. Rowlet

Pretty good year for bird-like starter pokémon! Rowlets are great fits for night owls who could spend some time on training. Plus, if you have a pest problem, a rowlet would be more than happy to help you out with it! They’re also just so unbelievable cute (maybe showing some bias there).

7. Nincada

Good news for Bug-Type fans, you’ve got two great options in the top ten this year! Nincadas are pretty low maintenance, so the barrier for entry into caring for one is perfectly low for new owners. As I discussed in their post, however, you will need to keep in mind the commitment that you take on when adopting one: this is one species of pokémon whose entire lifestyle is geared towards evolution. While I have only discussed one of their evolutions thus far (shedinja), the ease of care and threat level of these evolutions is much higher. Experienced bug-type owners won’t have a problem, but newbies would need to consider this heavily before adoption.

6. Lotad

If you’ve got access to a pool of water for a Lotad to chill in, then you’ve got just the right environment for adopting one. These guys are friendly (at least to other pokémon), easy-going, and their needs aren’t very extreme. They may not be the most energetic or “exciting” pets, but lotads are a great candidate for an aquatic pet!

5. Azumarill

Like the lotads under them in this top ten, azumarills are simultaneously easy to care for and friendly, making them a great option. Like most Water-Types that we discuss, any potential azumarill owner will need to provide them with a place to play in the water, which might not be something everyone is able to provide, but beyond that, they would make a great companion. They’re playful, caring, and cute! What else do you need?

4. Snom

My personal favorite out of the top ten, it’s another delightful bug, snom! While there isn’t a vast wealth of data about this species, given how recently they were discovered, there is plenty of indication that they would make a safe, low maintenance pet. They may not be the most expressive, but their diet of snow and relatively low threat level makes them a great candidate, so long as you don’t mind keeping your home cool.

3. Meowth

That’s right, meowths are especially the same as regular cats, making them an excellent pet! Like regular cats, these pokémon are fickle and free-wandering, but the path to their heart is quite simply paved with shiny things. Plus, as a huge bonus, look at that charming face! If you’re a cat person, you’re a meowth person.

2. Dachsbun

So long as you can keep them safe from their many potential predators, due to their sweet smell, a dachsbun would make an excellent pet. Unlike meowths, who are essentially cats, dachsbuns are much more than “just-a-dog”: are you a baker or a farmer? A dachsbun would make the perfect companion for you due to their ability to provide yeast for baking and to help plants grow with their mysterious scent.

And finally, our number one pet option of 2024 is…..

1. Teddiursa

Adorable, safe, small, and easy to care for, teddiursas would make a great pet for any owner. Their diet is made up almost entirely of honey, which is pretty easy to come by. Plus, if you provide your teddiursa with the right raw materials, they can make their own, providing for a perfect play activity that they may even share with you. Just…uh… make sure you use an everstone, and you’ve got the perfect little friend.

Thank you for another great year of blogging! I truly appreciate all the ongoing support, and I hope to be even more active in 2025. Will a non-Normal-Type pokémon finally come out on top next December? Probably not. But let's see!

[rubywithecat]

JjK men love tropes and how you first meet them

A/n: Please note that this is just a fiction and my own opinion, so please feel free to skip if you find any discomfort in reading. Thank you for love and support ~<33

Gojo Satoru

(Colleagues)

-I first think of student-teacher trope but I personally feel like Gojo wouldn’t date a student (especially his student)

-He would likely to date a colleague or junior partner.

It all started when u were assigned with the strongest sorcerer, Satoru Gojo for your first mission since you graduated. You don’t know if you should feel lucky or doomed cuz the mission is guaranteed to be hard. Since you attended Kyoto school, you haven’t personally trained by Gojo and heard a lot abt how arrogant he is from your teacher, Utahime like how he bullied her back in sch. “So, ur the kid that they partnered me with?” He appeared from behind. You turned your back “Yeah. My name is y/n” you greeted formally. He didn’t even bother to greet back and told you to just stay behind him. You were really annoyed by him but it was not a good idea to make a sense here. You got injured from the mission but helped a lot for him to fight with your cursed technique and he was impressed. He visited you to your apartment, asking about injury. Your impression for him changed quite a bit of how thoughtful he is. Then, you go out a lot with him and started growing feelings for him like who could resist his charm. On the other hand, he couldn’t believe himself but he also fall in love with you without any reason as if he’s capable of love?

Geto Suguru

(Friends to lovers)

-I think he is likely to only date from inner circle so it’s whether you’re his friend or have mutual friends.

It was at your bff birthday party and you were lost in the big room. You bumped into Geto and he apologized, helping you get up. “Thanks” you awkwardly replied. “Im Geto Suguru” he broke the silence since you were starring at him for a couple of sec. “Oh, I’m y/n. I’ve heard abt you from (ur fri name)” you replied, giggling. He smiled at your laughter. “I bet she wouldn’t tell good things, right?” He said and you guys chatted a lot that it was like an hour. “Hey y/n!” Your bff yelled as she saw you from the crowd and made her way to you and noticed someone beside u “Oh Geto! I thought you didn’t come!” She hit his shoulder. “I almost go back home of how boring your party is” he sarcastically replied which made her rolled her eyes. “Stop being an ass, Geto. Were you chatting with y/n?” Your bff side eyed him. He chuckled “Well, see you guys later. I just saw Gojo” he suddenly blushed and made his way out, saying small goodbye to you. You grabbed nearby drink and took a sip, looking at his way “U didn’t tell your childhood fri is cute” you said to your fri. “He’s all yours” your bff smirked at you and the rest of the night, enjoyed the party. The next day, you got his social acc from your bff and added him. You guys started talking and formed a friendship. U wanted more but didn’t wanna ruin the newly built friendship so as he too. But when the third party got involved, everything changed and jealousy grew into more and then he confessed to you finally.

Toji Fushiguru

(Second chance)

-This man would very likely to mess up in a relationship so it wouldn’t work out at first and you break up with him.

Even tho your clan doesn’t agree you with him cuz he doesn’t have cursed energy and is disgrace in jujutsu world, you fought for him and he messed up, letting you go. You were emotionally so hurt and heart-broken when he handed you to your brother back, taking the deal money. That was the biggest betrayal he made. How could he? Besides, Toji had always been selfish and wanted to keep you by his side but he has to give up on you to protect you and he know he couldn’t provide a good life to you so he just thought it would be better to make you hate him and just watching you happy from afar. He thought he would be fine but he isn’t. He couldn’t sleep nor focus on other things and his mind is always on you and memories. When he heard that you are forced to marry to another clan leader, he couldn’t do it anymore and fought for you back, this time harder.

Nanami Kento

(Love at first sight)

-He doesn’t believe in love or he is too busy to think about love. But when he saw you for the first time, he felt a strange but nervous feeling and his heart started to beat faster. Does it called love?

He was watching sunset from his apartment when he saw a girl with her friends, laughing and talking. Your beauty is unmatched and even the sunset he admired doesn’t compare it. It happened so fast that he doesn’t realize he was looking at your movements without even batting an eye. Then, you disappeared and he thought that’s it. Even tho there are several beautiful women who are throwing themselves to him, he doesn’t even bother to look at them. But how could you bewitch him? The next day, he tried his best not to think about the event anymore and went to work and then he saw you when he grabbed a coffee. You worked there. “What would you like to order, sir?” Your sweet voice sounded so good to him. The next day, he always come to visit you and you guys got close to each other and the relationship grows into smtg more.

——

——

[koifishhies]

yes yes yes yes yes!! oh my god i completely forgot about eating food with his hands part. every day I’m less and less convinced chibnall autism coded this man on accident. another thing I’ve noticed is in his little office, he always has the lamps on and rarely the ceiling light. or after Sandbrooke is solved, when he goes to have a good cry in the empty interrogation room, he keeps the lights off. probably a sensory thing. ceiling lights can be a sensory nightmare.

ugh there’s just so much about him. the way he wears the same things every day, is an extremely picky eater, doesn’t really say “hello” or any kind of greetings and it rubs people the wrong way. i need to rewatch this show with my notepad out like a maniac.

also ABSOLUTELY agree with what you said about Ellie, when she chews him out about how he behaves and he begrudgingly takes the food. that’s definitely around the time he was starting to build respect for her and see her abilities. so he backtracks—where before he’d completely dropped the mask and decided to disregard and forgo even trying to make any social connection in Broadchurch, he decides, hey, this one is worth it. he compromises, he takes the food. and he starts working with her more, challenging her, bouncing ideas off her. and though he may be framed as the more experienced one, her contribution teaches him and makes him a better detective too.

but then, the whole ordeal with Joe happens, and Ellie is absolutely wrecked, obviously. but even though this whole time Alec has been the one telling her to close her heart, be objective, look at her town from the outside, etc etc, he doesn’t go in with an “i told you so” mentality. he is so, so sympathetic, and he is so horribly sorry for her. you can see how hard he’s trying to be gentle and comforting when breaking the news to her. because he’s been through this before. he’s been through an absolutely horrific case that tore his family apart. he’s watching all that happen again, to someone he might even dare call a friend, and he can’t do anything to stop it. he can only be there, and understand.

though they had the potential to be close before, I think this really cemented their bond/friendship. the whole situation leads to Ellie being socially ostracized, which, in a way, puts them on the same level. who can she spend time with, who won’t look at her with either judgment or pity, but Alec? the man who’s been socially ostracized his entire goddamn life?

when Alec brings her into the Sandbrooke case, you can argue he does so because he wants her fresh and different perspective, while also trusting her expertise. sure. but I doubt he would have done it if Ellie hadn’t gone through what she had. it’s such a vulnerable thing for him to do, isn’t it? he said it himself, this is the case he nearly died over, the one that completely ruined his life. he even tells her about his trauma with dragging Pippa’s body out of the water. it is such a blatant display of trust. and I absolutely adore your take of saying he did it for her sake, to occupy her, to give her something to do because he cares about her in that way. it’s like he’s trying to tell her, hey, look, I made it out of this. yeah I came out a little broken, but I made it out the other side, and you will too. broken hearts can mend, after all.

and Ellie’s not ready to accept it yet! even if it’s exactly what she needs! she works on the case, kind of pretending the whole time that she only did it because Alec asked her to, and that’s all. she doesn’t want the olive branch, she doesn’t want the hugs, she doesn’t want the comfort. and Alec doesn’t push any more. he does what he can, and he leaves. but the foundation has cemented itself, and by the time he returns to Broadchurch in s3, look who’s working together again!

it’s such a multi-faceted, complex bond you don’t see portrayed so well in media very often, ESPECIALLY between just friends, ESPECIALLY ESPECIALLY between male-female friends. i absolutely rambled for way longer than i intended to and this post is INSANELY long at this point, but i love them so much and finding different angles to look at them is making me foam at the mouth with joy. no wonder David says Broadchurch heavily changed and influenced the landscape when it came out, you can’t expect this level of care and depth from just any detective drama

I just love how broadchurch (unintentionally) made an autistic-coded detective, but instead of going the sherlock route they made him just. a guy. he’s not special in any way, he’s not a savant, he’s just kinda There and Traumatized About It the entire time.

like alec hardy wants one thing in life and it’s to do his job, but he’s also constantly faced with the unfortunate reality that his job Sucks. he’s also actively dying half the time. and that’s it that’s his character.

also he’s not a twink like most autistic coded savants in media, and I may not be a middle aged dad but that’s the kind of representation I can get behind

[shadamyheadcanons]

In the "everyone ships shadamy" headcanon, which character do you think ships them the most and which ships them the less?

((In reference to my Everyone Ships Shadamy tag))

Regarding who ships them the most, one might assume I’d say Sonic, Rouge, or Cream, as they’re the ones who appear most often; Sonic loves it when his friends are happy, Rouge is thrilled Shadow is interested in dating for once, and Cream’s an idealistic yet grounded little sister who cares about Amy and wants to see her with someone who’s capable of the same level of devotion and commitment as Amy is. I love writing them this way.

However, I wouldn’t actually put any of them at the top of the heap because I can think of reasons why each one could object to it.

Some speculate that Sonic would get jealous. I don’t, but I do see him as someone who knows how dangerous and rash Shadow is. This goes for a lot of characters. We know Shadow’s gentle around Amy, but we’ve seen their hug and the ARK connection in SA2, the possibility of her turning him around in ShTH, the TMOSTH scene where Shadow gave Amy a sweet gift and agreed to go to a silly concert with her, etc. Sonic hasn’t seen that soft spot. Amy was helpless when Sonic met her and for a long time afterward, so he might hang onto that concern on some level and feel cautious about her spending time with Shadow, especially because of how naïve Amy is. Sonic knows Shadow’s ultimately a good guy, but Amy’s seen a side of him that no one else has. I wouldn’t anticipate open hostility from Sonic, but he might worry on some level.

Rouge didn’t always get along with Amy. She understandably saw Amy as an immature child for a long time, and she looked down on Amy and messed with her. They get along now, but they still have their differences, and Rouge cares a ton about Shadow. I could see her getting protective if she has reason to believe Amy could be frivolous and break his heart.

I think Cream mostly doesn’t like s0namy because of how lopsided Amy and Sonic’s feelings are and because Amy loses her head when it comes to romance. If she doesn’t think Shadow reciprocates and doesn’t register how different the shadamy dynamic is, she might dislike it for the same reason. Cream’s wise for her age, but Shadow’s hard to read.

(For the record, I think all three of them would come around pretty quickly once they actually saw how Shadow and Amy acted as a couple. That’s usually how it goes for Sonic fans in general, after all.)

This is why I actually think Vanilla would ship them the most. I don’t write headcanons about her too often because she’s a minor character, but I honestly can’t see any reason she’d object to shadamy. Vanilla’s probably the closest thing to a mom Amy has, so she has a vested interest in seeing her happy. She has Cream’s gentle supportiveness, but with the wisdom and experience of adulthood, I imagine she could understand the big picture and realize how good the two of them are for each other. The best headcanon I have explaining this is here.

As for who ships them the least, a lot of people put Knuckles in that role as a big brother figure for Amy. I think that’s tenuous, though. He just doesn’t stand up for her in that regard. I don’t know about anyone else, but I can’t think of a single time he’s seriously chewed Sonic out for treating Amy poorly. The closest you’ll get is him sarcastically saying things like, “Are you playing with that girl’s heart again, Sonic?” in Heroes and poking fun at him later. But he’s clearly joking when he says that, and he ran away from her along with Sonic constantly back in the day just like Tails did.

(Side note: this is something that really, really bothers me about his character. You’re the oldest, Knuckles. Do better!)

It is possible he leaves Sonic alone about it because s0namy is a “safe” avenue for Amy’s affections; Sonic is one of his closest friends and Knuckles knows he’s ultimately a solid guy, and given that Sonic hasn’t shown interest in an actual relationship, things wouldn’t go very far between the two. Shadow, on the other hand, has been at odds with Knuckles and the others before, and like Sonic, Knuckles has never seen the soft spot Shadow has for Amy.

I still think it’s more likely that Knuckles would trust Amy’s judgment and stay hands-off, but he could potentially show some hostility. This headcanon is how I explain it.

If you ask me, the biggest opponent to the pairing...would be Doctor Eggman. If Shadow and Amy had kids, Eggman’s chances for world domination would be kaput in ten to fifteen years. Even if they never did or the child didn’t have any of their abilities, the possibility would ruin Eggman’s blood pressure, which is even funnier.

Thanks for the question!

[belladonnadawn]

A Dinner for Two

To show his love and devotion, Xanthus decides to prepare a romantic dinner for you. Xanthus Claiborne x Reader Content Warning: mentions of cannibalism. (I miss him so much, I need my husband back fr. First fic of the year, yay!)

The first thing that Lawrence saw once he regained consciousness was a bloodied blade placed on the table. He winced at the tender flesh on his chest, healed, but not quite yet. His doctor only stared at him, indifferent to what was unfolding.

Before he realized it, he awoke to a new life.

The world became his oyster. He watched the tides shift and the pendulum swing. He found the fascination of it, especially with his newfound abilities and hunger. He lost count of lovers and foes, enemies and friends.

Everything was in the palm of his hand, but immortality made everything seem monotonous.

He, instead, became an observer, sometimes as a participant. Either way, he accepted the role that life gave him. There was no use resisting what fate handed to him.

He had lost count of the lives and the names that he had. Until he became…

"Xanthus."

Ah, the way you spoke his name; like a hummingbird singing softly at the day, like the aria of the most talented soprano at the opera. His name fits your lips. He was alive again.

To you, his name became a synonym for warmth and safety. A haven from the chaotic life you once knew. To him, your name became synonymous with peace and sanity— his long-awaited purpose.

Both of you found solace in each other's embrace. For once, he indulged himself at the thought of the future of you and him: with you growing old or choosing immortality with him. Either way, he's glad he has you.

It was then that you knew that cherished moments were often fleeting, just a mere brush in the hand before they slipped away.

Since it was not too long until the wind shifted its course, the storm that was brewing had now decided to strike down. Xanthus knew its arrival, anticipated it even, but no amount of preparation would save both of you and he knew that.

War is cruel— striking and unforgiving. An epitome of destruction and grief. But his lack of options and the dire situation presented it as a means to an end that he's been reaching for. So it commenced.

Adrenaline filled your veins as you ran around the labyrinth looking for your allies. You were fortunate to escape from Audric and now, it's time to find Xanthus. Being under the lake, everything felt damp and suffocating as if the labyrinth would break and swallow everything whole.

That was the least of your worries.

Taking a turn, you finally found him. All the worries and fears that you both felt disappeared with the touch of each other's skin. But war only has victors and losers.

Xanthus watched as it ripped your heart out, taking you right in front of him.

Out of sheer luck, Xanthus was able to save you from its cruel hands before it caused more damage. He came home cradling you like a fragile flower as if you'd crumble into different fragments.

Dontis only looked at him with a solemn expression. There was nothing he could say to give him comfort. He only gave him an empathetic look and reminded him of his open doors.

Xanthus would only nod. He'd board home with you after.

The room was dim, candlelight was the only source of light in the room; perfect for setting the mood. Red and two-toned chrysanthemums were perfectly arranged, decorating the table with such beauty. Silverware adorned with floral carvings that perfectly matched the ambiance of the dinner table.

Everything was meticulously arranged and designed to his liking. It was time to eat.

His hand reached the silver cloche, revealing a sweet supple meat, cooked to perfection. Xanthus closed his eyes as he inhaled its scent, the decadence of the food filled him. He was beyond exhilarated.

The flavor of meat along with the richness of wine stained his tongue. All the worries and burdens were gone as he indulged himself. Xanthus was lost in paradise. He was lost in you.

Gone were the days of the war. Gone were the grief. Gone were the tears.

It doesn't matter anymore: the blood lost, the lives taken, the injuries sustained. At the end of the day, you have his heart and he has yours. That was enough for him.

As long as he lives, you live. As long as he breathes, you breathe. The stars finally aligned for both you and him. Now that he has you in his heart, in his mind, and on his plate.

Divider: firefly-graphics

[icarusredwings]

Carly Crocker

(Not to be confused with Carly Boothe, That's Al's girlfriend, This is Beast's wife, Story of Wade meeting her at the end)

The beauty and the beast episode pissed me off, so let's go, In finding home AU Carly Anne Crocker (aka the ex blind girl) shows up later to the mansconfesses her feelings to Hank. This time, Jeans words ring in his head about letting a girl decide how much she wants to risk and can't turn her away. If anything, he is overwhelmed with joy. I mean, come on, it doesn't take a genius to know he struggles with romance so the fact that he loved her so much and let her go, and she still came back to him? It's enough to make his entire face purple and spin her around. And if you're wondering, 'Do they replace Scott and Jean as the mansion 'lovebirds' ?'

YES. Yes, they do. Because there is not a word that describes how utterly whipped he is for her, and she sees no one else the way him, even before the operation. She can still recognize him by scent and foot steps alone.

Now that I fixed that, here's some head canons.

Carly, now that she stays at the mansion, can quickly be unnoticeable, especially if you don't go in the basement or the lab. Most people only first meet/ notice her when he comes upstairs with her on his arm.

She is mainly seen talking with Jean, but she has no distaste for any of the others. Anyone can come talk to her, and she would be more than happy to talk. She does occasionally ask questions that might seem personal, letting her curiosities of her new friends get to her.

Asking Kurt why his tail wraps around peoples legs when he hugs them, asking Kitty what would happen if she accidently got stuck in a wall, asking Ororo why she was claustrophobic, asking Logan what it was like in the 1800s. Asking Remy what it was like growing up on the streets with his type of powers. She once even asked Charles if he had regrets about opening a school.

Some things she just stook to asking Hank about. Like why Rouge didn't have a very strong trust in other women other than the ones on the team. Or How Scott delt with all the preasure of somehow representing the X men when the entire world seemed to dislike them until a time of crisis when heros are needed.

For the most part, he'd quote something at her or give her a simple awnser. "My dear, Rouge has had a hard life, and not a great time with her mother. I would steer clear of asking her this directly seeing as you dont wish to upset her, do you?" Its asked in a genuine stand point. Never trying to shame her into not being curious.

Of course, she doesn't wish to upset her friends. But there is so many lies on the media and they hold struggles she couldn't possibly understand without asking.

Hank is very chivalrous, between opening doors, taking her hand when they go up the steps, writing her notes, looks away when he feels shes indecent (dispite them having gotten married almost asap) Brings her small gifts of flowers and cakes, anything really he finds she might enjoy.

Being practically attached to the hip, she learns a lot of things and becomes somewhat of an assistant type, bringing him things, scolding him for staying up too late, forcing him to take breaks in order to eat, teasing him as a last resort. It's very Pepper Potts of her really.

Except Hank isn't like Stark. He listens (most days 🙄) seeing as he finds Carly can be very.. distracting.. when she wants too.

Mainly, She dosn't call him beasts unless she is saying "My Beast" or "Youre the only beast in my heart." Sappy stuff like that drives Hank insane. What also makes him a bit looney is when she refers to herself as "Mrs. McCoy." Or calls for him with a sweet low "Oh, Henry~"

Other than that, it's either Hank, Dr. McCoy or just Sweetie.

Carly also doesn't mind him hanging from things. She finds it cute and often teases him about Spiderman kissing her. She also simply adores when the bed dips down low and she can cuddle him like a huge teddy. Who needs a blanket when your husband was covered in the softest fur you've ever felt?

Sometimes Carly brushes him out, to save the drain later you know? But also it felt nice to get him to finally relax and lean into her. She would kiss his face and tell him how handsome he is, dragging the brush across his arms and chest, giggling at how love drunk he looks.

Other times, when Carly got cold she'd just come to him and he'll hold her while working, walking around with her in his arm, her snuggled up on his shoulder. Something Carly has learned is that Hank is very touchy. Almost starved for it so she dosn't mind being carried or held.

He rubs her back, pecking kisses onto her head while he types up something or reads. Sometimes the children make fun of him, comparing carly and him to when king kong grabs that girl and climbs the empire state building. It makes Hank a bit upset but Carly giggles because they have no clue just how safe she feels in his arms.

I wanna assume that during her periods he carries her extra and wraps one of those travel heating pads around her, gives her pain meds and makes her food. Domestic stuff that really just makes you wanna AUUUGGHH when you think about it cause god damn hes a romantic.

At first, Hank, being so gentle with her was sweet. How gently he'd hold her in bed, how softly he'd be sure to grip her when carrying her. But Carly gets a bit frustrated when Hank acts like she's made from glass.

I can see him humming Mozart to her, calling her Dear 24/7, quoting poetry to her, being sure to kiss her before he leaves on missions, etc.

He is OBSESSED when she wears his white coat because its so big on her. He thinks its adorable and cant help but stare when ever he sees her walking around in it. (Even though she lowkey looks like the pope) Carly likes wearing it when its cold in the lab or when shes taking a nap in his library chair because it smells like him. Hank has many pictures of her but one of his favorites is when you fell asleep in his chair while wearing his coat and you can clearly see in the picture that you dozed off while reading. He thinks its absolutely the best thing in that stupid cellular device.

I can definitely see their first night together- TOGETHER being something difficult. Hes too gentle with her and it takes her riling him up to get him to fuck her properly. She fully understands what shes getting into and they have plenty of time and lube, so why not?

"Henry my darling, I love you very much, and I know you are scared but I am not damaged, I'm not going to shatter if you touch me. I'm not an old vase, I am your wife. One who is capable of deciding when it's enough. So please.. stop treating me like im a pricless artifact."

"B-but you are priceless-"

"Henry-" she gives him this look of 'quit the bs'

"O-okay... I suppose I can try.."

Once she breaks his whole "I can't be too rough or ill hurt her cause shes human" bullshit mindset, It's insane.

No, they aren't rabbits but it is quite frequent and its a shock how they haven't gotten pregnant yet.

If anything its like they both cant get enough of each other, between the whispers she does in his ear to his hands around her waist all the time.

Sweet jesus. Poor Logan. He has to hear all this. He (both old logan and worst logan) is very happy for his friend but GOD he didnt ever think he'd hear someone moan 'Oh fuck- Henry!' before as loudly as Carly does. Jesus sometimes he wishes he didnt have super hearing.

It's not until Storm mentions that Hank has a wife during orientation, in which Wade finds out, and clearly, he has to go tease her about it.

Sliding onto the stainless steel work place he smirks. He's in his regular clothes today so he fully expects her to scream. She dosn't.

"Oh.. Hello. Dr. McCoy is out at the moment." She says, like an assistant does.

He smiles all big and leans forward. "So you're married to big blue huh?"

Quite proudly she smiles. "Yes. I am."

"Wwooww good for him. Actually, it's no good for you." The first part seems normal, but it's never normal with Wade. "Does he bend you over that table over there?" He blurts out. Well shit- that was suppose to stay inside.

But Carly already is smirking. "Yes, he does. It's deeply sanitized."

Wades eyes widden as if he had hit jackpot. Everyone in this stuffy place was all stuck up and prim and proper. So to hear Carly straight up admit this felt like immediate friendship.

"Wooo look at you girl. Get it. But I gotta ask. Why?"

"Why the table or why did I marry him?"

"Oooh... Both!"

"Well, A. It's fun. B. He's a good man. He's very sweet to me, even when I was blind I knew there was something about him. He cares for me so much more then anyone else has."

Wade feels like he can relate. He wants to say something honest like 'Yeah, He is a pretty good guy isnt he?' But instead his brain had other ideas.

"What? You into weird lookin mutants or something?" He makes a face that would have been wiggling his brows, if he had any.

It makes Carly shake her head, giggling.

"Well, not particualry but... You know what they say about guys with big feet.."

This made sense about wolvie actually..

He gasps loudly, hand coming to his mouth. "You naughty gal!! So it is true. You know, I've always wondered myself."

"Mmh. Now that I awnsered your questions, you have to awnser mine about the Wolverine."

"Ooh smart. Did your research I see. Who warned you I was coming?"

She gigles again. "My husband."

"Ahh that snitch. So. What do you wanna know? Im an open book but I do have a lying disorder. Full warning."

"Is it true what they say? That canadians make good lovers?" She asks, leaning on the table that Wade was now kicking his feet on.

"Unless...y'know... if you're into that sort of thing." This last bit is a whisper as Wade daintily flashes the tags around his neck while trying to give her a flirty face. "I'm owned, baby! You can't have me. Im too expensive."

He gasps again, putting a hand to his chest. "Woah woah woah! Ladies! Calm down. Im a married man!!"

COUGH engaged. Actually COUGH

Again, Carly shakes her head, giggling. Goodness. What a character this one was. "No, unfortunately, I am not. And im sure you are."

"Well, good! Cause if you break my friends heart ill rip yours out." He says, smiling, but you could tell behind those moonstone eyes that there was no joke about it.

"If I ever break his heart, I'll rip it out myself." Carly says, staring him dead center. She wasn't afraid. Should she be? Yes. But she wasn't. Because she knows the only way Hank was getting rid of her was if he cheated or hit her.

Just as he was about to say something else, he turns, hearing a "Wade?" In which suddenly he gasps again, drimatically. "Woah!! Stay off me lady! You're married!! What would ol hanky panky think about this!?" It's loud, over the top, and he even holds himself like carly was just trying to strip him all while she stood there, crossed arms, hip out and only a slightly entertained smirk.

"Really?"

"Wade what do you need?" Said blue guy asks, coming around to set down two lunch trays.

"Your wifes tryna get dirty with the poole Hank!" He says and now theres two people giving him a stupid look.

"Yeah.. riiigghhhtt.... anyway. I believe Logan is looking for you. Shall I tell him you're busy?"

Wade grins widely as he jumps off the table. "Nope. Have a wonderful day. Great meeting you. You're nothing like my roommate's girlfriend Carly, though. She's polish. You dont look polish-"

"Wade.."

"Bye! My HUSBAND is callin me!" He says, practically skipping away, out of their hair and into someone elses.

".. What a weird man." She says, watching him go. "Indeed..."

[rubyuji]

Full Throttle (Kim Mingyu) ϑ : 🏎️ 🏁 🛞

“Dinner? What makes you think I’m the kind of woman who falls for candlelight and compliments?” ᝰ.ᐟ

Genre: Slowburn, Fluff

AU: Formula One AU!

Pairing: Ferrari Driver!Kim Mingyu x Seungcheol’s Sister!Reader

Warnings: Cheating (not Mingyu though), nothing much honestly

Synopsis: Mingyu, Scuderia Ferrari’s rising star, has quickly captured attention both on and off the track. Fans can’t help but notice his pursuit of a familiar face in the paddock—Choi Y/N, the younger sister of veteran driver Choi Seungcheol—sparking buzz about a potential romance brewing in the F1 world.

Note: Hi everyone! It's been quite some time since I published anything here since I was so preoccupied with school and F1 (which explains why this is an F1 fic you feel me). Anyway, I'm so glad to be back on here, and I hope you enjoy my fellow F1 and Kpop nerd besties. Don't forget to like + reblog as a form of support for me and other writers!

W.C: 12.9k (Holy shit ???)

Everyone knows breaking into Formula One is no small feat. It takes years of relentless dedication, countless hours on the track, and significant financial investment to secure sponsors and world-class training.

Add to that the sheer exclusivity of the sport—only 20 seats are available globally—and the odds are anything but favorable. 

For Kim Mingyu, however, the dream became a reality. His rise through the motorsport ranks, culminating in a dominant streak in Formula 2, had not gone unnoticed. It felt surreal when Scuderia Ferrari extended an offer for him to join their team.

From karting as a wide-eyed child with ambitions of professional racing to earning a seat at one of Formula One’s most prestigious teams in just his second season, it was a story worthy of the history books.

“Kim Mingyu does it again! What an incredible performance in his second season, claiming his first win at the Italian Grand Prix in Imola!”

The commentator’s voice reverberated through the circuit, electric with excitement as Mingyu crossed the finish line in his Ferrari, trailed closely by his teammate, Jeon Jungkook, and Red Bull Racing’s Choi Seungcheol.

“P1, Kim! What an absolute day. You fought brilliantly, mate,” his race engineer, Eunwoo, radioed in, pride evident in his voice.

Behind the visor of his helmet, Mingyu grinned, his heart pounding with exhilaration. As he drove his victory lap, he raised a hand to wave at the roaring fans in the grandstand, soaking in the moment.

This wasn’t just a race—it was proof that years of sacrifice, grit, and belief in his abilities had paid off.

“Congrats, Mingyu! You crushed it!” Minghao cheered, slapping Mingyu’s helmet affectionately before pulling him into a bear hug.

Jeon Jungkook, who had finished just behind him in P2, was quick to join the celebration. As his teammate and closest friend, Jungkook beamed with pride, clapping Mingyu on the back as they made their way to the podium together.

The air was electric as champagne sprayed over the three drivers, their laughter mingling with the thunderous cheers of the crowd. For Mingyu, it felt like a dream—a surreal, euphoric moment frozen in time.

Standing on the podium, the magnitude of his achievement began to sink in. If this was what victory felt like, he was determined to make the podium his second home for the rest of the season. 

As he gazed out over the roaring fans, one thought crystallized in his mind: becoming a world champion wasn’t just a dream anymore—it was his next goal.

“Congratulations on your first podium, Mingyu!” The reporter greeted him with a warm smile as he stepped off the podium.

“That was a phenomenal performance, especially this early in the season. After qualifying P19 and missing out in Q2, how did it feel to work your way up to P1 from such a position and then maintain the lead to secure the win?”

Mingyu paused, the roar of the crowd still echoing in his ears, as he prepared to relive the race that had just changed his life forever. He smiled earnestly at the camera, still feeling as if he was on cloud nine. 

“It’s an absolute honor,” Mingyu said, the adrenaline from his victory still coursing through him.

“Honestly, I expected to stay within the top ten threshold like I did in my first season, but somehow, I managed to push through and claim P1. I gave it everything I had out there. I’m incredibly grateful to secure this win, especially with such an amazing team supporting me every step of the way, and to achieve this in just my second season—it feels surreal.”

The reporter nodded, thanking him for his time before Mingyu was ushered to another group of journalists. Question after question about the race flowed his way, from strategies to pivotal moments.

By the time the interviews concluded and Mingyu finally made it back to his hotel, he felt utterly drained.

“Good job, Mingyu! Second season and already a first-place finish—you’ve proven your potential in the best way possible,” Minghao, his manager and best friend, said with a grin as they walked into the hotel room.

Mingyu sank into the nearest chair with a deep sigh, exhaustion catching up to him. From starting P19 on the grid to crossing the finish line in P1, it had been a grueling but rewarding weekend. The memory of every overtaking move and every strategic call from the pit crew replayed in his mind.

He knew maintaining this level of performance would be crucial if he wanted to achieve the ultimate goal: becoming a world champion.

“Finally made it to the podium, but how does he still not have a girlfriend?” Seokmin’s teasing voice echoed from the other side of the room as he lounged on the couch.

“Did you see how some of those reporters kept trying to dig into his love life? They were relentless! It was hilarious watching him answer every question about qualifying or race strategy with confidence, but then totally shut down when someone asked if he had a special someone waiting to celebrate with him. Or better yet, if he’d date a fan!”

Mingyu couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head. “I just wanted to talk about racing, but they always find a way to steer it into personal territory.”

“Don’t worry, Mingyu,” Minghao chimed in with a laugh.

“You’ve got bigger things to focus on—like keeping that P1 streak alive. Love life or not, the entire grid knows you’re the one to watch this season.”

Mingyu smiled faintly, the weight of expectations pressing lightly on his shoulders. Despite the exhaustion from the weekend, the thrill of victory reignited the fire within him.

This was just the beginning, and he was determined to keep climbing.

Grabbing a pillow, Mingyu then launched it across the room with a smirk.

“Is it seriously a requirement to have a girlfriend around here?” he quipped, watching as Seokmin dodged dramatically, letting the pillow bounce harmlessly off the window.

“I know I’m hot, but my time will come sooner or later. I guess the internet just can’t handle the fact that a sexy racer is single,” he added, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

Minghao and Seokmin burst into laughter, their snorts filling the room. Mingyu rolled his eyes at their reaction, though he couldn’t help but crack a smile.

Ever since his Formula One debut, he had earned the title “King of Visuals” on the grid—a moniker bestowed by fans who were captivated by his striking looks and undeniable charm.

So when he casually admitted during an interview that he was one of the few single drivers on the grid, the revelation had spread like wildfire across social media.

Memes, hashtags, and fan cams flooded every platform, leaving fans reeling with equal parts disbelief and excitement.

Mingyu had unwittingly become the internet’s favorite enigma—a talented driver with looks that could kill and no one to call his “special someone.”

“I guess being single just adds to the mystery,” Minghao teased, nudging Seokmin.

“Or the drama,” Seokmin shot back, winking at Mingyu.

Mingyu groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “If only winning races caused this much chaos,” he muttered, though a faint smile lingered on his lips.

Fans were relentless, swarming Mingyu at every opportunity—asking him out on dates, flirting shamelessly, or even making bold moves in the paddock.

While he’d be lying if he said a few gorgeous fans hadn’t caught his eye, Mingyu remained firm in his priorities.

He wasn’t opposed to dating; he simply wanted to let things flow naturally. Right now, his focus was on himself and building a career that was still in its infancy.

Not everyone believed his resolve, though.

“I doubt Mingyu will stay single for long,” Minghao said with a sly grin. “I caught him staring at Choi Seungcheol’s sister right before qualifying on Saturday.”

Mingyu froze, his jaw tightening as the memory resurfaced. He had noticed a stunning woman at the Red Bull garage, her presence impossible to ignore.

Her confidence was magnetic, her aura so captivating that he’d found himself stealing glances in spite of himself.

“What?” Mingyu’s voice rose in disbelief. “That woman talking to Jeonghan at the Mercedes garage is Seungcheol’s sister?” His eyes widened comically.

Minghao’s smirk deepened as Seokmin stifled a laugh.

Mingyu felt a chill run down his spine as the realization hit him. This wasn’t just any woman—this was Choi Y/n, a renowned model and the younger sister of his current rival, two-time world champion Choi Seungcheol.

And if that wasn’t enough, she was also infamous for her high-profile breakup with Jeon Wonwoo, a long-standing Mercedes driver whose questionable reputation had only worsened after their split.

The weight of it all sank in, leaving Mingyu feeling lightheaded. If he so much as looked at Y/n for a second too long, let alone entertain the thought of dating her, the consequences would be catastrophic.

The media would have a field day, and Seungcheol would probably want his head.

“Relax, Mingyu,” Minseo’s voice rang out as she strolled into the room unannounced.

Mingyu groaned inwardly at the sight of his younger sister, whose knack for knowing everyone’s business on the grid was unmatched.

“If it makes you feel any better,” she continued casually, “Y/n prefers to keep her private life actually private. She’s been clearing up the mess with Wonwoo, but fans are still warring over her. Not that I blame them—imagine getting cheated on, kept in the dark, and then watching your ex parade his new girlfriend around right after the breakup. Absolute trash behavior.”

Mingyu scowled. “Great. My life was already complicated, and now you’re giving me the full exposé on Choi Y/n.”

Minseo shrugged, completely unfazed. “You brought me here, genius. If you didn’t want the gossip, you should’ve left me at home.”

Mingyu groaned dramatically, throwing his head back. “Please, tell me more, oh esteemed and most beloved F2 wag,” he quipped sarcastically, earning a snort from Seokmin.

Minseo rolled her eyes, unfazed by the title. She had gained quite the reputation for her insider knowledge, thanks to dating Lee Chan, a rising star in F2 and the McLaren driver academy.

Mingyu had no one but himself to blame—he’d introduced her to the world of other F1 and F2 wags, unknowingly giving her a front-row seat to the intricate web of grid drama.

“Don’t be mad because I know things,” Minseo teased, crossing her arms.

“Besides, you’ll thank me when you need the inside scoop on how to avoid getting on Seungcheol’s bad side.”

Mingyu groaned again, burying his face in his hands. Racing might be his job, but navigating the social minefield of the paddock was starting to feel like an entirely different sport.

Minseo plopped down beside her older brother on the bed, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “She’s a tough nut to crack, I’ll give you that,” she began, nudging him lightly.

“Jiheon told me she’s here for one reason only: to support her brother. She’s not looking for anything romantic, especially after what her ex put her through. If you’re hoping to catch her attention, Gyu, you’re going to need to be more than just a hotshot driver with a nice smile.”

As Mingyu groaned, Minseo pulled out her phone, her expression turning thoughtful.

“Honestly, I look up to her. Y/n’s the type of woman who’s got it all—well-educated, graceful, kind, and, let’s be real, totally charming. Spending the weekend with her and the other wags was eye-opening. She’s not just beautiful; she’s smart and grounded, too. You’d better bring your A-game because she’s not going to fall for someone who’s only about muscles and pole positions.”

Minseo paused dramatically before adding, “Oh, and let’s not forget—she just got out of a toxic relationship with Jeon Wonwoo, the guy everyone calls the next Lewis Hamilton. She’s not exactly eager to dive into another mess.”

Mingyu grimaced, running a hand through his hair as her words sank in. He couldn’t deny the truth in them.

The paddock had been buzzing a year ago when the news broke that Wonwoo’s ex-girlfriend—none other than Choi Y/n—had been the one he cheated on.

The revelation had sent shockwaves through both the racing world and social media, making Wonwoo public enemy number one for a while.

But time, as it always does, had softened the uproar. Wonwoo’s reputation for brilliance behind the wheel had gradually eclipsed the whispers about his personal life.

On the track, results often spoke louder than scandals, and the noise had all but faded into the background.

Still, the thought of trying to win over someone like Y/n—a woman with her own storied history and a grace that made her untouchable—felt daunting. Mingyu sighed, leaning back on the bed.

“Why do I feel like this is going to be harder than winning a championship?” he muttered under his breath.

Minseo chuckled, her teasing grin returning. “Because it is. But hey, maybe if you stop grimacing and start acting like the guy everyone thinks you are, you might have a shot.”

Seokmin, who had been quietly observing, chimed in with a laugh. “No pressure, though. You’re only competing with her brother’s protective instincts, her ex’s reputation, and, oh yeah, the rest of the paddock. Easy, right?”

Mingyu groaned again, throwing a pillow at Seokmin. “You’re not helping.”

There were undeniable pros to asking you out.

First, you were single and finally free after healing from a traumatic relationship. Second, he had an unexpected advantage—his younger sister, Minseo, who already seemed to have a friendly rapport with you.

But the cons? Oh, the cons were enough to give even someone as bold as Mingyu pause.

You were practically an untouchable goddess in the paddock, your presence commanding attention and reverence.

Mingyu wasn’t oblivious to the fact that other drivers—some of them far more experienced and decorated than him—were already vying for your attention.

To make matters worse, dating you could throw a wrench into his carefully curated reputation.

You weren’t just anyone; you were Choi Seungcheol’s sister and Jeon Wonwoo’s infamous ex.

For a rookie still carving out his place in Formula One, the optics of dating a rival’s sister, much less a former wag, were a minefield.

Mingyu could hear the whispering headlines already. "Rookie Kim Mingyu entangles himself in paddock drama!" It wasn’t the kind of attention he needed so early in his career.

Yet, there was an undeniable pull—a magnetic allure he couldn’t ignore.

He mulled over the idea, torn between his cautious side and the part of him that thrived on risks.

After all, wasn’t risk-taking how he’d clawed his way into Formula One in the first place? ‘Fuck it,’ he thought to himself, but the weight of uncertainty pressed down on him.

Even with all the confidence in the world, this wasn’t a decision he could make lightly.

“Just give it a go, man. You can prove yourself worthy and treat her better,” Seokmin said, breaking Mingyu’s spiral of thoughts. His friend’s voice was casual, but the words hit with the force of an ultimatum.

Mingyu sighed, running a hand through his hair. He’d faced impossible odds before, betting on himself when no one else did.

He wasn’t afraid of a challenge—Formula One had taught him that much. But this? This wasn’t just about proving himself on the track.

This was about putting his heart on the line, and for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t entirely sure he was ready to gamble.

Still, a spark of determination flared in his chest. If he was going to take this leap, he’d do it the only way he knew how— flat out, full throttle, no looking back.

After all, Mingyu didn’t just race to win; he raced because he thrived on the thrill of defying expectations. Maybe this was just another race he needed to run.

“You should talk to her at the after-party tomorrow. It’s your chance to ask her out once we’re back in Monaco,” Minseo teased with a mischievous glint in her eye, a snort escaping her as she nudged Mingyu’s arm.

Minghao didn’t miss the opportunity to join in, giving Mingyu a knowing look. “She’s right. You’ve got an opening—don’t waste it,” he added, smirking as Mingyu rolled his eyes in exasperation.

The thought of asking you out swirled in his mind, accompanied by flashes of possible scenarios.

You, like Mingyu, currently called Monaco home, a city tailor-made for romance and spectacle.

Mingyu’s mind toyed with ideas—maybe he’d take you out on his yacht, letting the waves of the Mediterranean set the mood, or perhaps a drive around the glittering streets of the principality, culminating in an unforgettable night of vibrant nightlife.

But before he could settle on anything, Minseo shattered his daydreams.

“If you’re genuinely thinking about bringing her out on your yacht, save yourself the trouble. Y/n’s a simple girl,” she remarked, shaking her head.

“She’d prefer a nice dinner with a stunning view and a good glass of wine.”

Mingyu let out a breath of relief he didn’t realize he was holding. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Well, that makes things easier. I owe you one,” he said, genuinely grateful for the insight. The last thing he wanted was to overdo it and come off as trying too hard.

On the day of the after-party, Mingyu is scrambling to look his best. He puts on a sleeveless black Vetements top and a pair of black cargo jeans, finishing the look off with tinted glasses. Mingyu hears a whistle from behind him as Minghao laughs.

As he adjusted the glasses in the mirror, he heard a low whistle from behind him.

Minghao, leaning casually against the doorway, burst into laughter. “Look at you, pulling out all the stops. You sure you’re not overthinking this?”

Mingyu smirked, glancing back at his friend. “You can laugh all you want, but first impressions matter. Besides,” he added, tugging on the hem of his top, “I’m not taking any chances.”

Minghao grinned and gave him a pat on the back. “Relax. Just be yourself, and you’ll be fine. And hey, if all else fails, at least you’ll look good while striking out.”

With a groan and a shake of his head, Mingyu grabbed his jacket and headed out.

Tonight wasn’t just another party—it was an opportunity, and he was determined not to let it slip through his fingers.

At the club, Mingyu felt a rare mix of excitement and nerves bubbling beneath his cool exterior.

The pulsing lights and bass-heavy music only amplified the electric energy of the night. He’d decided to be optimistic about his chances, reminding himself that confidence was key. After all, wasn’t that what got him into Formula One?

When he spotted you speaking to Minseo near the bar, he knew it was his moment. Taking a deep breath, he adjusted his tinted glasses and ran a hand through his hair.

This was his chance to make an impression, and he wasn’t about to waste it.

As he approached, Mingyu couldn’t help but pause for a brief second to take you in. The flashing club lights danced across your figure, highlighting every elegant detail of your appearance.

You were a vision—draped in a sleek black mini-dress that hugged you perfectly, accentuating your silhouette.

Your hair was styled in a loose bun, soft tendrils framing your face in an effortlessly alluring way. But it was your lips—a stunning shade of red—that truly stopped him in his tracks.

Mingyu felt his throat tighten for a moment as he struggled to gather himself. Keep it together, Gyu, he thought. You’ve driven at 300 kilometers per hour—this is nothing.

But somehow, approaching you felt infinitely more nerve-wracking than overtaking a rival on the track.

Minseo caught sight of him first, giving her brother a subtle but encouraging nod. You followed her gaze, and when your eyes met his, Mingyu felt the rest of the club melt away.

The noise, the crowd, the lights—all of it seemed to fade as a small, curious smile graced your lips.

With renewed determination, Mingyu straightened his posture, his confidence returning. He flashed you a smile and closed the distance between you.

“Mind if I join the conversation?” he asked, his voice smooth but slightly tinged with nervous energy.

You tilted your head slightly, amusement flickering in your eyes. “Well, if Minseo vouches for you, I suppose I can spare a few minutes,” you replied, your tone playful but inviting.

As you exchanged introductions and began chatting, Mingyu found himself relaxing. You were warm and genuine, your laughter lighting up the room in a way that made him forget the pressure of the moment.

And for the first time that night, he realized something important: this wasn’t just about taking a chance—it was about truly connecting. And so far, it seemed like he was off to a good start.

“So, Mingyu,” you began, your voice silky and low, “what makes you think you can just waltz over here and steal away all of my attention? I’m sure there are plenty of women in this club waiting for you to flash that grin their way.”

Mingyu’s lips quirked into a confident smile, but there was a softness in his gaze. “Maybe, but they’re not you. Something about you, Y/n... You make this rookie want to risk it all.”

Your eyebrow arched, your expression playful yet enigmatic. “Risk it all?” You tilted your head, letting your gaze linger on him for a moment too long, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Bold words for someone who doesn’t even know what I like to drink.”

He chuckled, leaning closer, his voice dropping to match yours. “Let me guess—red wine. Something deep, bold, and unapologetic, just like you.”

You smiled, clearly pleased but refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Not bad,” you murmured, sipping your wine, your eyes fixed on him over the rim of your glass.

“But knowing my drink won’t get you very far. Impressing me takes more than pretty words and that charming smile, Mingyu.”

He straightened, undeterred, his grin widening. “Dinner in Monaco. Just you and me. Let me show you I’m more than just words.”

Your laugh was low and sultry, sending his heart racing. “Dinner? What makes you think I’m the kind of woman who falls for candlelight and compliments?” You leaned closer, your perfume intoxicating.

“You’ll need to earn my time, Mingyu. I don’t waste it on anyone who can’t keep up with me.”

The challenge was clear, but something was inviting in your tone—a test wrapped in flirtation. “So, what do you say?” he asked, his confidence unshaken.

You tapped a finger against your glass, pretending to deliberate, though the glint in your eye gave away your amusement.

“Alright, rookie. Impress me tonight, and maybe—just maybe—I’ll consider giving you my time. But I don’t make promises.”

Before he could respond, the moment was interrupted by the presence of two figures approaching from behind him.

Wonwoo and Jeonghan stood there, their expressions unreadable but charged with unspoken warnings.

“Kim Mingyu,” Wonwoo’s voice was smooth, yet there was an edge to it. “Got a minute?”

You stepped back gracefully, your lips curving into a knowing smile. “Don’t let them scare you off, Mingyu. I’m not that easy to get rid of.”

You chuckle, turn, and disappear into the crowd, leaving him to face the two seasoned drivers.

Jeonghan was the first to speak, his usual teasing demeanor masked by a surprising edge.

“Y/n’s... a handful, you know. Complicated in the best and worst ways. You sure you want to dive into that?” His smirk was still there, but his tone hinted at something deeper.

“She’s nothing like any of those ditsy admirers you have, by the way,” Wonwoo interjected, his voice clipped and direct.

“And if you’re thinking of making a move, tread carefully. She’s been through more than you can imagine, and she doesn’t need someone messing around in her life just to back out when it gets tough.”

Mingyu shifted his weight, unfazed by their words. His voice was steady, almost challenging.

“I know about what happened between you two,” he said, looking directly at Wonwoo.

“And I know how much it hurt her. But I’m not here to bring her more pain. If anything, I want to be the one who treats her the way she deserves.”

Wonwoo’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. The weight of Mingyu’s words seemed to hang in the air, his sincerity impossible to ignore.

Jeonghan leaned closer, his smirk deepening as he let out a low chuckle.

“Big words, rookie. Do you think just because you’re sweet-talking us here, you’ll get a free pass? Let me tell you something—Y/n’s not a charity case, and she doesn’t need saving. She’s been doing just fine without you or anyone else.”

“I’m not trying to save her,” Mingyu replied firmly.

“I just... I see her, and I know what I want. She deserves someone who sees her for who she is, not what she’s been through. And I’m willing to prove I’m that guy.”

Jeonghan’s teasing expression softened just slightly, though the glint in his eyes remained.

“You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But this isn’t a race where all you need is speed and a good strategy. This is Y/n. You fumble, and you’re out—not just with her, but with the rest of us watching from the sidelines.”

“Noted,” Mingyu said, his confidence unwavering.

“But if there’s one thing I’ve learned in this sport, it’s that the best rewards come from the biggest risks. And Y/n? She’s worth it.”

Wonwoo’s expression remained unreadable, but a flicker of something—reluctant respect, perhaps—passed through his eyes.

“If you’re serious, you better be ready. She doesn’t give second chances, and she doesn’t forgive easily.”

“I wouldn’t expect her to,” Mingyu replied simply. Jeonghan clapped a hand on Mingyu’s shoulder, his grin widening.

“Well, rookie, if you’re that determined, good luck. You’re going to need it.” His tone was light, but the underlying warning was clear.

As they walked away, Mingyu exhaled, his resolve only growing stronger. This wasn’t about proving himself to the others—it was about proving himself to Y/n.

You were a challenge unlike any he’d faced before, but he was determined to show you that he was ready for whatever it took. For you, he was willing to take the risk—and win.

The low rumble of the Ferrari 812 Superfast filled your ears as you gazed out at the glittering Monaco skyline.

The sleek red car sliced through the winding streets, the hum of its engine almost hypnotic.

You weren’t about to admit it, but the smooth ride and his confident handling of the car were mildly impressive—though it also stirred an uncomfortable familiarity.

Your ex had loved the showy grandiosity of moments like this. The high-end cars, the breathtaking views, and the carefully curated settings screamed perfection but felt empty beneath the surface. A part of you braced for the same facade now.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Mingyu said, breaking the silence. His hand rested casually on the steering wheel, but his tone was laced with amusement.

“I’m just admiring the ride,” you replied coolly, turning to face him. “You really leaned into the whole Monaco-Ferrari cliché. Should I be flattered?”

He chuckled, casting you a glance before focusing back on the road. “It’s not a cliché if it works. But if the car isn’t enough, maybe the destination will be.”

You allowed yourself a faint smile but didn’t respond, letting the glittering city lights distract you.

As the car climbed higher, the roads became quieter and more secluded. When the car finally came to a stop, Mingyu stepped out quickly, moving around to open your door.

“Your chariot awaits,” he said, extending a hand with a boyish grin. You raised an eyebrow but accepted his hand, stepping out gracefully.

The view before you was breathtaking—a cozy, secluded restaurant perched on a cliff, its warm lights spilling out onto a terrace that overlooked the entire harbor. The sea stretched endlessly into the night, reflecting the twinkling city lights.

“Points for effort,” you said lightly, brushing off your dress, though the scene tugged at something buried deep in your chest.

Inside, the restaurant was intimate, far from the prying eyes of the world. Your table was set at the very edge of the terrace, offering an unobstructed view of Monaco’s skyline. The warm evening breeze and soft glow of the lanterns set a perfect scene.

“You like to impress, don’t you?” you asked as you settled into your seat, your fingers lightly brushing the stem of your wine glass.

He shrugged with that same confident grin. “I just wanted the setting to match the company.”

You laughed softly, swirling the dark liquid in your glass. “Flattery, Mingyu? I would’ve thought you’d try something more original.”

“I’m not flattering you,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “Just being honest.”

That made you pause. There was a sincerity in his tone that caught you off guard, and for a moment, your playful smirk faltered.

It reminded you of the early days with your ex, back when he’d been convincing enough to make you believe in his charm. But unlike before, this didn’t feel rehearsed.

“Do you always go to this much trouble for a girl you barely know?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you set your glass down.

“Only for the ones who are worth it,” he replied smoothly, his gaze steady.

Your heart tightened, the old wounds from your past relationship threatening to surface.

Your ex had always said the right things too—until the truth unraveled, and you realized how hollow those words had been.

But as you held Mingyu’s gaze, you couldn’t find the cracks you’d learned to expect. His determination wasn’t about ego; it was quieter, steadier.

“And what exactly are you expecting in return?” you asked, your voice soft but challenging.

“Nothing,” he said simply. “Except a chance. A chance to show you I’m serious.”

You studied him carefully, searching for any sign of pretense. But all you found was earnestness, and it unnerved you.

“Maybe,” you said finally, the word slipping out before you could stop it. “Maybe I’ll consider it.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up into a satisfied smile, but he didn’t push further.

The rest of the evening passed in a comfortable rhythm, the playful edge between you softened by something deeper.

When you slid back into the car for the drive home, you caught yourself stealing glances at him.

He didn’t need to fill the silence with charm or bravado, and for the first time, you wondered if he might actually be different.

The thought scared you—but it also left you with something unfamiliar. Hope. Maybe this rookie was more than just a fleeting moment—and maybe, just maybe, you’d let yourself find out.

After dinner, the night air was cool as Mingyu opened the car door for you once again, the hum of the car coming to life beneath his touch.

Instead of heading straight back, he took a turn that led deeper into the illuminated streets of Monte Carlo.

“Where are we going?” you asked, a curious edge to your voice.

“It’s too early to end the night,” he replied, a boyish grin spreading across his face. “Trust me, you’ll like this.”

Monte Carlo at night was a masterpiece—its streets glowing with golden light, the harbor dotted with yachts shimmering like jewels, and the gentle hum of the nightlife echoing in the distance.

The Ferrari’s engine purred as Mingyu navigated the winding roads, his confidence behind the wheel evident in every turn.

The windows were slightly down, and the cool breeze swept through your hair as you leaned back in the seat, the city lights painting your features in soft hues.

From his side, Mingyu stole a glance at you, his heart skipping at how serene you looked.

For someone who carried such an untouchable aura, there was an undeniable warmth in moments like this.

“You know,” he started, his voice soft, “you’re really something.”

You turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. “Something? That’s a little vague, don’t you think?”

He chuckled. “Alright, let me be specific. You’re beautiful, but not just in the obvious way. It’s… the way you carry yourself, the way you challenge me. It’s magnetic.”

You looked away, a faint blush creeping onto your cheeks as you tried to play it off with a small laugh.

“Careful, Mingyu. Keep saying things like that, and I might start believing you.”

The car slowed as he pulled into a quiet overlook, the city sprawling out before you in a sea of light.

For a moment, the two of you just sat there, the only sound the distant hum of the nightlife below.

“I used to love nights like this,” you said suddenly, your voice softer than before. “When everything felt… simple. Before it all got so complicated.”

Mingyu turned to you, sensing the shift in your tone. “You mean before—?”

“Before everything,” you interrupted gently. “The spotlight. The rumors. People assuming they know you because of headlines. It’s exhausting.”

There was a vulnerability in your words that he hadn’t seen before, and it made his chest tighten.

“You don’t have to carry all that alone, you know.”

You met his gaze, searching for any hint of pity but finding only sincerity. It caught you off guard, and for the first time that night, you let yourself relax completely.

“Maybe,” you said softly, echoing your earlier words from dinner. “Maybe I don’t.”

The drive back to your place was quieter, but it wasn’t the kind of silence that felt heavy. Instead, it was comfortable, the two of you lost in your own thoughts as the city passed by in a blur of light and shadow.

When he finally pulled up to your building, you hesitated for a moment before unbuckling your seatbelt.

“Thanks for tonight,” you said, your voice warmer than before. “I… I had a good time.”

Mingyu smiled, leaning slightly toward you. “So, does that mean I get another chance?”

You didn’t answer right away, stepping out of the car instead and turning back to face him with a playful smirk. “We’ll see.”

With that, you disappeared inside, leaving him grinning like an idiot.

When Mingyu got home, he found Minseo lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone. She looked up when he walked in, immediately catching the glow on his face.

“So?” she asked, sitting up eagerly. “How’d it go?”

Mingyu flopped onto the couch beside her, running a hand through his hair with a dreamy smile. “It was perfect. She’s… amazing.”

Minseo smirked, nudging him playfully. “Did you tell her how much you like her?”

“Not yet,” he admitted, his smile softening. “But I think she’s starting to let me in. Slowly.”

“Well, don’t screw it up,” Minseo teased, though her tone was affectionate. “I like her already.”

Mingyu chuckled, leaning back and closing his eyes.

For the first time in a long while, he felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be. And as he replayed the night in his head, he couldn’t wait to see where this road would take him.

The Monaco Grand Prix weekend was in full swing, and the energy in the paddock was electric.

The iconic views of the harbor, the glamorous yachts, and the bustling atmosphere of the streets, combined with the sounds of engines revving and the anticipation of one of the most prestigious races of the season, made for a thrilling backdrop.

Inside the Ferrari hospitality suite, fans were buzzing with excitement, but it wasn’t just the drivers who caught their attention that day.

As the crowd navigated the high-end lounge, all eyes were drawn to Mingyu, who, as usual, effortlessly commanded attention with his tall, lean frame and charismatic smile.

But what had people talking was the stunning woman standing beside him.

You, dressed in an elegant white silk dress with subtle touches of gold—perfectly matching the Monaco glamour—were engaged in a conversation with Mingyu.

Your laughter blended with the excitement of the moment, and the two of you were noticeably close, almost as if the world outside didn’t exist.

There was a natural ease between you, one that made it impossible to deny the undeniable chemistry sparking between you and Mingyu.

As the two of you shared an inside joke, the fans watching couldn't help but whisper among themselves.

Who is she? Is she a lucky charm? The murmurs quickly turned into something more salacious as the gossip began to spread like wildfire.

Wait... isn’t that Y/N? Wonwoo's ex? Some fans gasped, clearly recognizing you from the rumors that had circulated about your past relationship with the Mercedes driver. I thought she was with him, but now she’s with Mingyu?

The whispers grew louder, some speculating that Mingyu had bagged Wonwoo’s ex—someone who had been publicly cheated on.

Others were wondering if it was all some sort of calculated move. She’s with Mingyu now? After everything that happened with Wonwoo?

It was impossible to ignore the buzz around you, but you and Mingyu remained blissfully unaware of the growing gossip.

You were so absorbed in each other, lost in your private world, that the fans’ prying eyes went unnoticed.

But those murmurs were starting to spread rapidly, and no one dared to ask aloud, too caught up in the electric chemistry between you two.

Still, the tension in the air was palpable, the fans too intrigued by the dynamic unfolding before them.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of familiar eyes had been quietly watching from a distance.

Wonwoo, strolling alongside Seungcheol and his teammate Woozi, caught sight of the two of you as he passed by.

His step faltered for a brief moment, his gaze lingering longer than he intended.

His heart skipped, not out of jealousy, but something much more inexplicable.

His eyes narrowed slightly, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of something—what was it? Curiosity? Longing? Before he could process the feeling, Seungcheol, ever observant, raised an eyebrow and asked with a smirk, "Who’s the lucky guy?"

"Is it Mingyu?" Woozi added, clearly noticing the dynamic between you and Mingyu.

Wonwoo didn’t answer right away. Instead, he simply shrugged it off, turning his focus back to the upcoming day’s events. But deep down, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted.

Back inside the hospitality suite, you slowly began to let your guard down, the intoxicating ambiance of Monaco, mingled with Mingyu's easy-going nature, allowing you to feel more at ease.

It wasn’t often that you felt so relaxed around someone, but Mingyu had a way of making everything feel effortless.

Your conversation flowed like a river, the outside world fading away.

However, with a glance at the clock, you quickly realized that it was time for you to head to the Red Bull Hospitality before the qualifying session.

"I’ll let you get ready for qualifying, Gyu. I’ll be in the Paddock Club cheering you on," you said with a small, warm smile.

Mingyu smiled, his eyes sparkling with appreciation.

"Good luck to me, then. I’ll see you after!" he teased, but there was an undeniable warmth in his voice.

As you made your way toward the exit, your heart fluttered a little, but you pushed the feeling down, knowing Mingyu had his focus on the track.

Meanwhile, the buzz in the hospitality had only grown, fans whispering about the connection they had witnessed between the two of you.

The moment qualifying ended, the energy in the paddock shifted. The Ferrari garage erupted in cheers as Mingyu claimed pole position in a spectacular performance.

The roar of the crowd and the camera flashes filled the air, but Mingyu’s mind was elsewhere.

He was thinking of you, and only you.

However, you had made it clear earlier that you didn’t want anyone to know about the arrangement between you and him. It was a secret that had to be kept, at least for now.

The media and fans were already speculating about the connection they’d seen in the hospitality suite, and you didn’t want to fuel the rumors just yet.

After the qualifying session, you quickly slipped away from the Paddock Club hospitality and headed to Parc Fermé.

Mingyu had specifically asked you to meet him there, away from the prying eyes of the paddock.

You approached the secured area where the cars were lined up, careful not to attract attention.

Mingyu, still in his Ferrari racing suit, was surrounded by his team, but his eyes immediately found you in the crowd. He gave you a small, knowing smile, his face lighting up at the sight of you.

You walked toward him, heart racing in anticipation. "Congrats on pole, Mingyu," you whispered, your voice soft yet full of warmth.

"Thanks," he replied quietly, glancing around to ensure no one was paying attention. "I couldn’t have done it without you."

You smiled, your heart swelling with pride for him, but you both knew that you had to keep things discreet.

His fingers brushed against yours briefly before he quickly pulled his hand back, a silent reminder of the arrangement you were trying to keep secret.

The chemistry between you two was undeniable, but in this world, it had to remain in the shadows for now.

Before you could say anything else, a familiar face appeared—your brother, Seungcheol. He was making his way toward the press conference area, and his eyes swept over the scene in front of him.

You straightened up quickly, knowing you needed to distance yourself from Mingyu before Seungcheol noticed.

Mingyu nodded subtly in understanding, backing away a few steps to give you space.

"Good luck tomorrow," you said quietly, not wanting to make a scene. "I’ll be cheering for you from the Red Bull Garage."

Mingyu’s smile was both grateful and a little teasing. "I’ll see you there."

With one last glance, you turned and left, making your way toward the crowd, careful not to look back.

Back in the Red Bull hospitality suite, you tried to focus on the race, but your thoughts kept drifting to Mingyu and the moment you shared a few minutes ago.

His performance, his quiet smile, the brief touch of his hand—it all felt electric.

You had just taken your seat when you saw a familiar figure outside, weaving through the crowd. It was Mingyu.

He was making his way toward the Red Bull hospitality suite, without a care and with a determined look on his face.

Fans, noticing the connection between you two, whispered to each other as he walked past, but he didn’t seem to care.

Mingyu wasn’t trying to hide the fact that he was looking for you. He was coming for you, and you admired the boldness.

Your ex usually kept you under wraps, but Mingyu was determined.

As he entered, his eyes immediately found yours. Without a word, he walked over to you, a warm smile on his lips, his presence making your heart flutter.

"Ready for tomorrow? I just finished my interviews so I could come visit before my meeting," he asked softly, his voice low enough that no one else could hear.

"I am now, you shouldn’t have gone through so much trouble, you know?" you replied, giving him a small smile, feeling the energy between the two of you intensify.

The murmurs around the room had grown louder, and the whispers that started with Mingyu and the girl from Ferrari soon shifted toward something more intriguing.

Wait a minute... Isn’t she... A fan who had been observing the two of you pointed to you and then to a familiar face in the paddock.

"Isn’t she... Wonwoo's ex-girlfriend?"

The conversation quickly spread, as fans began to piece together your past. Oh, that’s her—Seungcheol’s sister, right?

The whispers turned into speculation, with fans recalling the well-known drama surrounding your breakup with Wonwoo.

Wait... isn’t she the one he cheated on? The room buzzed with theories. So she’s with Mingyu now?

Some fans couldn’t help but wonder if Mingyu had stolen her away after the public mess with Wonwoo. What happened between them?

The gossip was relentless, with fans scrambling to connect the dots of your past relationship with Wonwoo and the secretive interaction they had just witnessed between you and Mingyu.

The more they talked, the more the pieces seemed to fall into place, and the intrigue only deepened.

But neither of you cared about the growing attention. What mattered was the moment you shared, the quiet connection that spoke louder than any rumors or expectations.

For now, it was just the two of you, and that was enough.

Mingyu’s breath was warm against your ear as he leaned in closer, his words so soft that they seemed to vibrate in the air between you two.

"No one needs to know everything, right?"

You smiled, a soft laugh escaping your lips, the playful warmth of his tone making your heart flutter. "Not yet."

But as he pulled back, your gaze lingered on him, and for the first time that weekend, a wave of realization hit you.

Being with Mingyu felt... different. It wasn’t just the chemistry or the electric pull that seemed to draw you closer every time he was near. It was more than that.

In the chaos of the Monaco Grand Prix, amidst the flashing cameras, the gossip, and the pressure of it all, you had found something in Mingyu that you hadn’t realized you’d been missing.

It wasn’t just the comfort of having someone to lean on, though he made you feel safe in ways you hadn’t expected.

It was the way he understood without needing words, how his smile made everything else seem less important, how he could make you forget the world and simply be with you in that moment.

It was as if everything else—the mess with Wonwoo, the drama, the expectations—had faded into the background.

With Mingyu, you felt seen in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time, maybe ever.

No pretense, no games—just raw, real connection. The kind of connection that made you wonder if it was time to stop hiding, to stop keeping everything a secret.

But then reality crashed in. You couldn’t just throw everything into the open, not yet.

There were too many unanswered questions, too many things that needed to be untangled.

Still, in that brief exchange, in the quiet of the moment, you allowed yourself to think that maybe this was different.

Maybe Mingyu was different.

As he gave you that knowing smile and turned to walk away, you stood frozen for a second, your mind racing.

Maybe you had been too cautious for too long, too afraid to step into something real again.

But with Mingyu, it didn’t feel like a leap—it felt like a step toward something you weren’t sure you were ready for, but something you couldn’t resist.

You glanced back at him, his tall figure moving through the crowd.

Maybe you hadn’t figured everything out yet, but with him, you felt like you were starting to.

Slowly, surely, you could see where this could lead.

As the evening settled over the Monaco paddock, the energy from qualifying slowly began to dissipate.

The buzz of celebration in the Ferrari garage was still palpable, but the crowds had thinned, leaving only a few lingering team members and the two drivers.

Mingyu, having played the role of the victorious pole-sitter all evening, decided it was time to steal a moment for himself—and for you before you both retired to your homes.

Navigating through the quieting paddock, he slipped away from his team’s hospitality, his steps purposeful as he made his way toward the secluded corner where he knew you’d be waiting.

The soft hum of the Monaco harbor filled the air as he rounded a corner, only to come face-to-face with none other than Wonwoo and Hoshi.

Wonwoo’s sharp eyes narrowed as he took in Mingyu’s casual, almost nonchalant demeanor.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," he said, his voice laced with disdain.

Hoshi, standing beside him in his McLaren race suit, crossed his arms and leaned against the wall with a slight smirk.

"Well, well, sneaking off, are we, pole-sitter?" His tone was teasing, but his gaze was scrutinizing.

Mingyu straightened, his jaw tightening as he met Wonwoo’s glare. "I don’t see how this concerns either of you," he replied evenly, though there was a sharp edge to his voice.

Wonwoo stepped forward, his expression hardening.

"It concerns me because she’s Seungcheol’s sister. And more importantly, because I know you, Mingyu. You think this is a game? You’re not fit for her."

Mingyu’s eyes darkened, his patience wearing thin. "That’s not for you to decide," he said firmly. "Especially not after what you did."

Hoshi chimed in, his voice light but his words pointed. "I think what Wonwoo’s saying is... tread carefully. She’s been through enough, don’t you think?"

The tension between the three drivers was palpable, but before it could escalate further, your voice cut through the air.

"What the hell is going on here?"

The three men turned to see you standing a few steps away, your arms crossed and your gaze fiery. Mingyu’s tense posture softened slightly, but Wonwoo’s face hardened.

You marched up to them, your eyes fixed on Wonwoo.

"Seriously? You’re trying to tell Mingyu what to do? You don’t get to have a say in my life anymore."

Wonwoo opened his mouth to speak, but you didn’t give him the chance.

"You cheated on me, Wonwoo. You made it very clear how little you cared about me back then. So don’t you dare act like you’re some protective ex now. You lost that right a long time ago."

Hoshi raised his eyebrows, clearly taken aback by your bluntness, while Mingyu’s lips quirked into a subtle smile, pride flickering in his eyes.

You turned to Hoshi, your tone still firm but less cutting.

"And you? I appreciate the concern, but I can handle myself. Mingyu has been nothing but kind to me, and honestly, I don’t need the two of you ganging up on him."

Wonwoo looked away, his jaw clenched, while Hoshi gave a small, apologetic nod. Mingyu stepped closer to you, his hand brushing yours in a silent show of support.

You sighed, your voice softening as you addressed all three of them.

"I’m not some prize to be fought over. I make my own decisions. And right now, I’m choosing to be with someone who actually respects me."

With that, you turned to Mingyu, your expression softening as you met his gaze. "Let’s go."

He nodded, his hand lightly resting on the small of your back as the two of you walked away, leaving Wonwoo and Hoshi standing in the shadowed paddock.

As you disappeared around the corner, Hoshi let out a low whistle. "Well, that was something."

Wonwoo didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on the spot where you had stood.

For the first time in a long time, he felt the sting of regret—not just for losing you, but for realizing that someone else might treat you the way he should have.

As you and Mingyu walked away from the tension-filled scene, the quiet of the dimly lit paddock enveloped you both.

The distant hum of the harbor and the faint echoes of laughter from the remaining hospitality areas faded into the background.

Mingyu’s hand lightly rested on the small of your back, his touch warm and grounding.

After a few moments of silence, he finally broke it, his voice gentle. “You didn’t have to do that, you know. Standing up for me like that.”

You glanced up at him, your expression softening as you saw the flicker of emotion in his eyes.

“Of course, I did,” you said simply. “You didn’t deserve that. None of it.” Mingyu stopped walking, turning to face you fully.

The faint glow of the overhead lights cast soft shadows on his face, making the vulnerability in his expression even more evident.

“I’m fine,” he said quietly, though the slight waver in his voice betrayed the truth. “I just... I didn’t want them dragging you into more drama because of me.”

Your heart twisted at his words. For all his confidence and charisma, Mingyu wasn’t as invincible as he seemed.

He was trying to shoulder everything on his own, and it hit you just how much he cared—not just about his image or reputation, but about protecting you from the chaos of his world.

You took a step closer, your hand reaching out to gently rest on his arm. “Mingyu,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Are you okay? Really?”

His eyes searched yours for a moment as if debating whether to let you see the cracks beneath the surface.

Finally, he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. “I am now,” he admitted. “But I hate that this affects you, too. I never wanted that.”

You shook your head, your hand sliding down to intertwine with his.

“I knew what I was getting into, Mingyu. And I’m not running away just because it’s a little messy. You’ve been there for me, and I want to be there for you, too.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his gaze locked on your joined hands.

He noticed the way your thumb absentmindedly traced circles against his skin, a small but significant gesture that spoke volumes.

“You don’t know how much that means to me,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled softly, the tension in your shoulders easing as you saw him relax slightly. “Good. Because I mean it.”

Mingyu didn’t push further. He could sense that this was a big step for you—letting your walls down, even just a little.

Instead, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his silent way of acknowledging the progress.

“I’m lucky, you know,” he said after a pause, his tone lighter but still sincere. “To have you. Even when things get crazy.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, though your smile betrayed your affection. “Don’t get used to it just yet,” you teased, but there was no mistaking the warmth in your voice.

As the two of you continued walking, the tension of the evening seemed to dissipate, replaced by a quiet sense of understanding.

For the first time in a long time, you felt like you were finally letting someone in, and Mingyu, ever patient, was exactly who you needed at that moment.

Later that night, the warm glow of the city lights filtered through the windows of your apartment, casting soft shadows on the walls.

You sat curled up on the couch with a blanket draped over your lap, the faint hum of the Monaco harbor in the distance.

Across from you, Seungcheol sat with his arms crossed, his jaw set as he stared at you with the intensity only an older brother could manage.

“So,” he said finally, breaking the silence.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you and Mingyu, or do I have to find out from the gossip mill?”

You sighed, tucking your knees under you as you avoided his gaze. “It’s not... it’s not like that,” you started, but the way his eyebrows shot up made you correct yourself.

“Okay, maybe it is. A little.”

Seungcheol leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“You’re seeing him,” he stated bluntly, his tone somewhere between accusation and concern.

You hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. I am.”

The silence stretched between you, and you could see the gears turning in his head. He was fuming, you could tell—his tight posture, the way his fingers tapped against his knee, and the sharp edge to his expression.

Finally, he exhaled sharply. “After everything with Wonwoo? Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“That’s not fair,” you said, your voice firmer than you expected. “Mingyu isn’t Wonwoo. He’s... he’s different.”

“Is he?” Seungcheol shot back. “Because I remember how broken you were after that mess. I had to watch you pick up the pieces, and now you’re telling me you want to jump back into something with one of his friends?”

You flinched at the mention of the past, but you refused to back down.

“It’s been years since then, Cheol. I’ve changed. I’ve grown. And Mingyu—he’s nothing like that. He treats me well. He respects me.”

Seungcheol stared at you, his expression unreadable.

You could feel the weight of his protectiveness pressing down on you, but you held your ground.

“I get it,” you said softly. “You’re just looking out for me. But I’m not the same person I was back then. I’m stronger now.”

His shoulders sagged slightly, and he ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling with his emotions.

“I just don’t want to see you hurt again,” he admitted, his voice quieter now.

“I know,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“But Mingyu’s not going to hurt me. He’s been patient, Cheol. He’s been kind. And honestly... he makes me feel like maybe I can give love another chance.”

Seungcheol looked at you for a long moment, his gaze softening as he took in your words.

He could see the sincerity in your eyes, the way your shoulders relaxed when you talked about Mingyu.

Finally, he sighed, leaning back against the couch. “You’re a grown woman,” he said reluctantly. “I guess I don’t really have a say in what you do anymore.”

You laughed lightly, the tension in the room easing. “No, you don’t. But I still appreciate that you care.”

He shook his head, a small smile breaking through his stern exterior. “I just hope he knows how lucky he is. And if he screws up—”

“You’ll be the first to let him know,” you finished, grinning.

“Damn right,” Seungcheol muttered, though his tone was more affectionate than angry now.

As the conversation shifted to lighter topics, you felt a sense of relief wash over you.

For the first time in a long time, you had opened up about your feelings, and while Seungcheol’s approval wasn’t everything, it mattered.

With his begrudging blessing, you felt like you were finally moving forward—ready to see where things with Mingyu might lead.

Seungcheol leaned back onto the couch, his expression softening as the tension eased between the two of you.

After a few moments, he raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity creeping into his tone.

“Alright, fine. But now you have to tell me how this all started. How did you even end up with Mingyu?”

You smiled, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself as you leaned into the couch cushions.

“It was here in Monaco, actually,” you began. “Right after the Imola Grand Prix.”

Seungcheol’s brow furrowed slightly. “Monaco? What happened here?”

“Well,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips, “Remember the after-party that was hosted by Joshua Hong? You know, just to let loose a little after a hectic weekend since we all live here anyway. I wasn’t planning anything that night, but then Mingyu showed up. He was there with some of his friends as well, and... I don’t know, we just started talking.”

Seungcheol’s eyes narrowed slightly. “He asked you out at the after-party? Why didn’t I know about this?”

“Don’t make it sound like that,” you protested with a laugh.

“It wasn’t sleazy or anything. He was... charming. Polite. He didn’t push, just asked if I’d like to go out to dinner sometime. Honestly, I almost said no.”

“Why didn’t you?” Seungcheol asked, his tone skeptical but not unkind.

You shrugged, your smile softening.

“There was something about him. He wasn’t overbearing, and he didn’t act entitled like some guys do. He made me laugh. It felt easy.”

Seungcheol hummed, leaning his chin on his hand. “So you said yes?”

“Yeah,” you said, your eyes lighting up at the memory.

“A few days later, he took me out to this beautiful little restaurant overlooking the harbor. It wasn’t flashy, just... nice. Intimate. We talked for hours, about everything and nothing. And after dinner, he asked if I wanted to see more of Monte Carlo. He took me on this drive through the city, and it was... magical. The way the city lights sparkled against the sea—it felt like something out of a movie.”

Seungcheol’s expression softened further, though he still seemed hesitant. “And he’s been respectful? No games?”

You nodded firmly.

“Completely. He’s never pushed me to do anything I wasn’t comfortable with. He listens, Cheol. When I told him I needed time, he gave it to me. No questions, no complaints. He’s patient, and he’s made it clear that he’s okay with going at my pace.”

Seungcheol exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck as he processed your words.

“Alright,” he said finally, his tone begrudging but genuine. “I’ll admit, that sounds... better than I expected. He’s really been that good to you?”

“Yes,” you said earnestly, meeting his gaze.

“He’s been amazing, Cheol. He makes me feel like I can trust him, like I can actually let someone in again.”

Seungcheol studied you for a moment longer before finally nodding. “Okay,” he said, his voice low.

“If he makes you happy and treats you right, then I’ll back off. But,” he added, his tone sharpening slightly, “if he ever does anything to hurt you—”

“Again, you’ll be the first one to kick his ass,” you finished, grinning. “I know.”

Seungcheol shook his head with a reluctant smile, leaning back onto the couch. “You really like him, don’t you?”

You felt your cheeks warm, but you didn’t deny it. “Yeah,” you admitted softly. “I really do.”

For the first time that night, Seungcheol didn’t argue. Instead, he simply nodded, a quiet understanding passing between the two of you.

The final day of the Monaco Grand Prix dawned bright and clear, the Mediterranean sun casting its golden rays across the iconic harbor.

The air was filled with excitement, the buzz of anticipation almost tangible as fans packed the grandstands and the paddock brimmed with activity.

The Monaco GP wasn’t just a race—it was a spectacle, a celebration of speed, luxury, and prestige, and today promised to be unforgettable.

You stepped into the paddock alongside Mingyu’s sister, Minseo, and your friend Jiheon, a wag whose easy charm made her a favorite among the paddock regulars.

Your off-shoulder white maxi dress swayed elegantly with each step, its flowing fabric catching the light and drawing eyes wherever you went.

The dress, paired with understated gold jewelry and a pair of nude heels, was the perfect balance of sophistication and glamour, effortlessly fitting the grandeur of Monaco.

Your hair fell in soft waves, framing your face as you smiled and chatted with your companions.

The three of you moved through the paddock with ease, turning heads as the collective grace of your group drew admiration.

Photographers snapped away, and fans whispered excitedly as they recognized you.

It wasn’t just the dress or the occasion—it was the way you carried yourself, the quiet confidence and elegance that had people wondering who you were and how you fit into the thrilling world of Formula 1.

Mingyu stood near the Ferrari garage, finishing up a pre-race discussion with his engineers.

His fire suit hung slightly open at the top, the vibrant red of his team unmistakable. As the conversation wrapped up, his eyes drifted across the paddock—and then he saw you.

Time seemed to slow for him as he took in the sight of you. The white dress, the way it flowed effortlessly as you walked, the soft smile on your lips—it all made his heart skip a beat.

You were stunning, a vision of grace and beauty, and the way you lit up when you laughed at something Jiheon said only added to your charm.

Without a second thought, Mingyu excused himself from the conversation and made his way toward you.

His long strides carried him across the paddock quickly, his eyes locked on you the entire time.

You noticed him as he approached, and your face lit up in recognition, your smile widening in a way that made his chest tighten.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice casual but his eyes warm as they met yours.

“Good morning,” you replied, tilting your head slightly to look up at him. “Ready for the big day?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he said with a small grin, his hands resting on his hips. “How about you? Ready to cheer for the wrong team?”

You laughed lightly, the sound like music to his ears. “I’ll be watching from the Red Bull garage today,” you admitted, a playful glint in your eye.

“But I’ll still be cheering you on, Mingyu. Even if you’re a Ferrari driver.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Traitor,” he teased, though his tone was laced with affection. “But I’ll take whatever support I can get.”

Before either of you could say more, Jiheon nudged your arm gently, reminding you it was time to head to the hospitality area.

You gave Mingyu one last smile, your voice soft as you said, “Good luck out there. Drive safe.”

“I will,” he promised, watching as you turned to walk away.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment, the elegant sway of your dress and the way you carried yourself etching itself into his memory.

The pre-race atmosphere was electric. Mingyu stood on the grid, surrounded by his team as they made final adjustments to the car. But even with the chaos and noise, his mind wandered back to you.

As he glanced at the large screens broadcasting scenes from around the paddock, his heart skipped a beat.

There you were, standing in the Red Bull garage, chatting animatedly with Jiheon.

The camera lingered on you for a moment, capturing the way you laughed, your hands gesturing as you spoke.

You looked completely at ease, unaware of the world watching you. Mingyu’s lips curved into a grin, a soft chuckle escaping him.

The sight of you—so vibrant and natural—was all the motivation he needed.

Shaking his head slightly, he refocused on the task at hand. As he climbed into the cockpit of his Ferrari, he adjusted his gloves, his determination sharpening.

The roar of the crowd filled the air as the engines came to life, the sound reverberating through the streets of Monte Carlo.

Yet, even as the formation lap began, Mingyu couldn’t shake the thought of you.

Knowing you were there, cheering him on despite your seat in the Red Bull garage, gave him a sense of calm and drive that was hard to explain.

You weren’t just a distraction—you were his grounding force, his silent supporter in a world that rarely allowed vulnerability.

As the lights went out and the race began, Mingyu’s focus was absolute. But in the back of his mind, he carried the image of you in that white dress, cheering for him in your own quiet way.

It wasn’t just a race—it was a chance to show you that he was someone worth believing in.

The streets of Monte Carlo buzzed with electric anticipation as the Monaco Grand Prix soon reached its climax.

Mingyu was in the lead, his Ferrari weaving through the narrow streets with unmatched precision and focus.

Behind him, Seungcheol in the Red Bull was closing the gap, his aggressive driving style leaving no room for error.

Not far behind, Wonwoo in the Mercedes was biding his time, waiting for any mistake from the two drivers ahead.

The battle for victory was fierce, every lap a testament to skill and strategy.

In the Red Bull garage, you sat on the edge of your seat, your hand firmly intertwined with Jiheon’s. The tension in the air was palpable, the high-stakes nature of the race reflected on every screen in the garage.

Jiheon gave your hand a gentle squeeze, her eyes flicking to you with a supportive smile.

“Don’t worry,” she said softly. “Mingyu’s got this. He’s driving like a man possessed.”

You nodded, but your heart was hammering. Watching Mingyu fight for every inch on the track made you realize how much you cared.

It wasn’t just about the race—it was about him, about what he was proving to himself and the world.

Out on the circuit, Seungcheol made his move, diving deep into Mirabeau in an attempt to overtake Mingyu.

His Red Bull was so close to the Ferrari’s rear wing that the commentators were holding their breath. But in his eagerness, Seungcheol braked too late, his tires locking up and forcing him to take a wider line.

Mingyu seized the opportunity to pull ahead, his calm under pressure shining through.

From behind, Wonwoo saw his chance.

As Seungcheol recovered, Wonwoo’s Mercedes gained rapidly, but a momentary loss of grip through the Swimming Pool complex forced him to back off.

Frustration flickered across his face, but he knew he couldn’t risk a bigger mistake.

In the Red Bull garage, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, clutching Jiheon’s hand tighter.

“Come on, Mingyu,” you whispered under your breath. Your eyes were glued to the screen, your entire body tense as the final laps unfolded.

With just two laps to go, Mingyu remained untouchable. His Ferrari danced through the streets of Monaco, every apex hit with precision, every straight taken at full speed.

The commentators marveled at his composure, declaring this race a defining moment in his career.

As the checkered flag waved, the grandstands erupted in cheers. Mingyu crossed the line first, securing a hard-fought victory.

His engineer’s voice cracked through the radio, full of emotion. “P1, Mingyu! Monaco is yours! Incredible drive!”

Mingyu let out a triumphant laugh, his voice filled with joy. “We did it! Thank you, team!”

In parc fermé, the energy was electric. Mingyu climbed out of his car, raising his fists in the air as his team swarmed him.

The weight of the victory was clear in his elated expression.

Seungcheol arrived shortly after, his Red Bull taking second place. Despite the disappointment of missing out on the win, he approached Mingyu with a sportsmanlike handshake.

“Great race, Mingyu,” he said, his voice tinged with respect. “You earned this one.”

“Thanks, Cheol,” Mingyu replied, gripping his hand firmly.

Moments later, Wonwoo pulled in. His Mercedes had claimed third, but his expression was anything but celebratory.

He exited the car with a scowl, his jaw tight as he walked past Mingyu and Seungcheol without a word.

His frustration was evident, the sting of falling short only amplified by the dynamic unfolding before him.

As they made their way to the cool-down room, the atmosphere was tense. Mingyu sat in a chair, catching his breath, while Seungcheol leaned casually against the wall.

Always the one to lighten the mood, Seungcheol joked, “I nearly had you at Mirabeau. You’re lucky I locked up.”

Mingyu grinned, his exhaustion giving way to humor. “Luck or skill? I’ll let you decide.”

Wonwoo, standing silently in the corner, crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on Mingyu. The unspoken tension between them was thick, but Seungcheol, sensing the awkwardness, kept the conversation light.

“Track conditions were brutal today,” he said. “It’s a miracle we all finished without incident.”

As they were called to the podium, Mingyu stole a glance at the crowd. His eyes found you standing near the VIP section, your radiant smile sending a surge of warmth through him.

You waved, your expression full of pride, and in that moment, Mingyu felt invincible.

The podium ceremony was a spectacle of celebration. Mingyu stood on the top step, lifting the winner’s trophy high as the crowd roared.

Seungcheol stood beside him, clapping with genuine admiration, while Wonwoo’s expression remained neutral, his disappointment evident.

From your vantage point, your heart swelled with pride. Seeing Mingyu bask in the glory of his win solidified everything you’d been feeling.

As the champagne sprayed and the drivers celebrated, you knew this wasn’t just a fleeting moment. This was the beginning of something real.

After the podium, you waited near the Ferrari garage. When Mingyu finally emerged, still in his race suit, you didn’t hesitate to approach him.

Without thinking, you threw your arms around him, whispering, “You were amazing out there. Congratulations.”

Mingyu hugged you back tightly, his voice soft in your ear. “Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Nearby, Seungcheol watched the exchange with a mix of protective instinct and acceptance. Walking over, he clapped Mingyu on the back.

“Good race,” he said. “Take care of her.”

Mingyu nodded, his expression serious. “Always.”

Wonwoo, watching from a distance, could only scowl as he turned and walked away, the sight of you and Mingyu together a reminder of what he’d lost.

But none of that mattered.

For you and Mingyu, this victory was more than just a race—it was a turning point, a moment that cemented your connection and opened the door to a future you were both ready to embrace.

Epilogue:

The glitz and glamour of the Formula 1 world always had its fair share of stories, but none felt quite as personal as yours and Mingyu’s.

Months after that life-changing Monaco Grand Prix weekend, your relationship had blossomed into something undeniably beautiful, and for the first time, you didn’t feel the need to hide.

The world first got confirmation when Mingyu posted a candid photo on his Instagram: you, standing on the balcony of his Monte Carlo apartment, looking out at the Mediterranean Sea.

The caption was simple yet heartfelt: “Worth every risk. ❤️”

You weren’t prepared for the wave of support that followed. Fans flooded the comments section with love:

“Finally! You two are so cute together!”

“She’s his lucky charm—look at his podium streak since Monaco!”

“From heartbreak to happily ever after. We’re here for it.”

Since then, you and Mingyu have embraced the freedom of being open about your relationship.

At races, he’d smile at you from across the paddock, his gaze filled with warmth, while you’d cheer him on from the Ferrari garage or wherever you chose to watch.

The stolen moments you used to have in secret were now shared openly—a hand on his arm after interviews, or a quick kiss on the cheek before he stepped into the car.

At the Singapore Grand Prix, you walked into the paddock hand in hand, the city’s bright lights reflecting the happiness you felt.

You could feel eyes on you, but instead of shrinking under their gaze, you smiled, more comfortable now in your place beside him.

During an interview, Mingyu was asked about the impact of your relationship on his career. He looked straight at the camera, a soft grin on his face.

“She’s my biggest supporter. Having her here makes everything better—on and off the track.”

You couldn’t help but blush, watching from the sidelines.

Later, when you teased him about making you the center of attention, he just shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“What can I say? It’s the truth.”

At home in Monte Carlo, life was a dream. Mingyu often called you his lucky charm, pointing to his string of podiums and victories since you’d been together.

You’d laugh, reminding him that his talent and dedication had gotten him where he was.

One quiet evening, as you both lounged on the couch after dinner, Mingyu turned to you, his expression soft.

“Do you ever regret letting the world in on us?”

You thought for a moment, then shook your head with a smile. “Not for a second. Hiding felt safe after the whole mess with Wonwoo, but this... this feels real. I’m glad we took the chance.”

His fingers intertwined with yours, his voice low but steady. “Me too. You were worth every risk, every whispered conversation, every secret meeting. I’d do it all over again.”

As you lay in his arms that night, you couldn’t help but marvel at how much had changed. The walls you’d built around your heart were gone, replaced by a trust and love you hadn’t thought you’d feel again.

Mingyu had been patient, kind, and understanding—everything you hadn’t known you needed.

For him, seeing you open up was the most rewarding part. He knew the risks of being with you, the doubts and fears you carried, but it was worth it.

Fans had embraced your relationship, noting how grounded and happy Mingyu seemed with you by his side.

And as the F1 season rolled on, your love story became a part of the sport’s narrative.

Whether it was the way you supported him through the highs and lows of racing, the genuine smiles you shared after a victory, or the quiet moments when the cameras weren’t watching, your relationship was a testament to the magic of taking a chance on love.

Love, it turned out, was worth every risk. And for you and Mingyu, it was only the beginning.

© rubyuji 2025’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.

[f1girliefics]

Breaking News: A Love Beyond the Circuit

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Assigned to cover the Formula 1 season, you formed a friendly connection with Lando Norris through interviews and conversations. As the season continued, those friendly moments grew into something deeper.

The lights of the city distracted you as you closed your laptop, wrapping up another long day.

Covering the Formula 1 season was thrilling but exhausting at the same time.

Especially when it came to following the drivers, capturing their stories, and writing pieces that drew readers into the high-speed world of racing. Lando Norris has become one of your most frequent interviewees.

Not just because of his impressive skills on the track but because of his approachable, easy-going nature.

It also helped that the fans loved him.

Every conversation with him left you feeling lighter like you were speaking to an old friend rather than one of the sport’s brightest stars.

Your first interview with him was memorable.

He'd cracked jokes mid-answer, making you laugh despite your nervousness.

Over time, those interviews turned into casual chats in the paddock, he often brought you coffee or tea.

You couldn’t deny there was something special about him, but you kept things professional, convincing yourself it was just part of the job.

You tried your best to protect yourself.

That night, after the Monaco Grand Prix, Lando sent you a message: Dinner? No interviews. Just food and good company. I'm kinda lonely, Oscar is with his Miss.

You hesitated, your fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Was this crossing a line? Probably.

But curiosity got the better of you.

Sure, you typed back. Where?

An hour later, you found yourself sitting across from him at a quiet restaurant hidden away from the busy streets.

The atmosphere was cosy yet still elegant.

Lando looked relaxed, a rare sight given the pressure he was usually under during race weekends.

“You know,” he said, breaking the silence as you both waited for your dinners, “it’s nice to be around someone who doesn’t just see me as 'Lando Norris the F1 driver.'”

You tilted your head, surprised by his admission.

“Well, you’re more than that. You’re... Lando Norris, the guy who can make anyone laugh with a ridiculous joke.” He chuckled, his eyes meeting yours as they made your heart skip a beat.

“And you’re the only journalist who hasn’t tried to twist my words into some dramatic headline.” he said just as the waiter arrived.

The conversation flowed easily after that, weaving through topics of racing, travel, and life outside the circuit.

By the time dessert arrived, it felt less like a dinner with someone you were covering for work and more like a date.

“I have a confession,” Lando said, his voice quieter now. He leaned forward slightly, his fingers running around the edge of his glass. “I didn’t ask you to dinner just because I wanted to hang out. I like you. More than I probably should. I know your job makes this complicated, but... I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Your heart stopped beating.

“Lando... I’ve liked you too. I just didn’t think it was... possible. You’re you, and I’m just—”

“Someone who sees me for who I really am,” he interrupted gently. “And that means more to me than you can ever imagine.”

By the time he walked you back to your hotel, your heart felt full.

At the door, he hesitated, his usual confidence replaced by a quiet uncertainty.

“Can I see you again? Not as a journalist, but... as a date?”

“I’d like that.” you offered him a smile.

And as he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, you knew that this was just the beginning of something extraordinary.

A story not for headlines, but for your hearts.

[sh1nr]

Overreacted? Maybe!

M!Reader x Kim Jiwon (Liz) x Jang Kyujin

wc: 1.5

ao3

"Yeah, I guess I overreacted a little." Kyujin smirked. "A little? You were ready to start a war."

"So what happened?" Haewon asked

"I had a crush on Y/n and I thought of confessing so I told Kyujin, right?" Liz asked, "And then Kyujin betrayed me by going up to him confessing and now they went on a date!"

"Worst of all they did go on a date and Kyujin said that she's making it official tonight!" Liz exclaimed "She's such a moron."

"A moron?" Haewon said

"Yeah, a total moron," Liz sighed, dropping her head back against the couch in frustration. "She didn't even give me a chance! I was planning to confess, and now she swoops in like that, and it's just, ugh!"

Haewon chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, she might have thought you weren't going to do it. I mean, you can be pretty shy sometimes, especially when it comes to stuff like that."

Liz shot Haewon a side-eye. "Shy? I was just... I was planning my approach, okay? I didn’t need Kyujin to go and steal my moment."

Haewon raised an eyebrow. "But, Liz... you’re mad at Kyujin for confessing to you? Do you even know if they will work?"

"Uh no" Liz said

"So you're mad for...nothing?" Haewon asked

"No!" Liz said "I’m mad because I wanted to do it, and now she’s making it look like it was her idea from the start. It’s not even about Y/n anymore. It’s about Kyujin just jumping in like that, without even asking me if I was ready to do it myself," her voice rising in frustration.

"What if Kyujin and Y/n  didn't go on a date" Haewon said

"What do you mean?" Liz asked

"I mean, what if she's being a good friend and trying to make sure Y/n doesn't hurt her best friend. You know, a guy breaks your friends heart and then you mess with two girls"

"Oh" Liz said "Ohhhh"

"Yeah" Haewon said

Liz paused, Haewon’s words sinking in. "You think... Kyujin was just trying to protect me?"

"Yeah, she might not even be interested in him and she's maybe making sure that he doesnt hurt you, break your heart or… you know. She's making sure he's a decent guy for her best friend" Haewon said "And don't tell me you haven't heard those stories."

"What stories?" Liz asked

"The ones, where a girls best friends boyfriend breaks her friends heart and then the boyfriend has to deal with two girls" Haewon said

"So i overreacted" Liz said

"Yeah, Kyujin's probably making sure Y/n doesn't break your heart" Haewon said "And is probably interrogating him"

Liz blinked in realization. "Wow, I feel kinda... embarrassed now."

Haewon grinned. "You should. You're over here acting like the betrayed one when Kyujin was just looking out for you."

Liz let out a long, dramatic sigh, sinking deeper into the couch. "I guess I jumped the gun a bit. I mean, I never even considered that Kyujin would do something like that for me."

"That’s because you’re not used to people having your back like that," Haewon said softly, her voice carrying a note of understanding. "Kyujin really cares about you, and I think she just wanted to make sure things didn’t go south before you even had a chance."

Liz gave a small, guilty smile. "Maybe I should apologize to her."

"You should," Haewon said. "But you also gotta talk to Y/n, right? You can't just stay upset without knowing what's going on between them."

Liz nodded, biting her lip. "I guess I should. I just... I don't know what to say to Y/n now."

"Start by being honest," Haewon suggested. "Tell him how you feel. Let him know you were planning on confessing, but things got messed up."

Liz groaned. "Ugh, it's so complicated now."

"Yeah, love triangles are never simple," Haewon teased, nudging her shoulder.

Liz shot her a playful glare. "Not helping."

Just then Kyujin walked back into the dorm, her eyes immediately landing on Liz and Haewon sitting in the living room. She could tell something was off by the tense silence in the air. "What’s going on?" Kyujin asked, looking from Liz to Haewon, her voice a little uncertain.

Liz glanced at Haewon for a moment, her lips pressing together as she debated what to say. Finally, she took a deep breath and stood up. "Kyujin, I owe you an apology."

Kyujin blinked in surprise, unsure of where this was heading. "An apology? For what?"

Liz rubbed the back of her neck, feeling a bit awkward. "For... jumping to conclusions. I thought you were just being selfish and stealing my moment with Y/n, but Haewon helped me realize that you were just trying to protect me. I... didn't see it that way at first."

Kyujin’s expression softened, and a small smile tugged at her lips. "I wasn't trying to steal anything from you, Liz. I just wanted to make sure Y/n wasn’t going to hurt you. You're my best friend, and I care about you way too much to let some guy mess with your heart."

Liz's guilt deepened as she took in Kyujin's sincerity. "I’m sorry, Kyujin. I guess I was too caught up in my own feelings to see what you were doing for me."

Kyujin stepped forward and gave Liz a gentle hug. "It's okay. I get it. I know you wanted to be the one to confess, and I didn't mean to mess that up. But I also wanted to make sure you weren’t left in a situation where you might get hurt."

Haewon watched the two of them, her eyes softening. "See? You two are fine. No more drama."

Liz laughed lightly, pulling away from the hug. "Yeah, I guess I overreacted a little."

Kyujin smirked. "A little? You were ready to start a war."

Liz rolled her eyes but smiled. "Okay, okay, maybe I was being dramatic."

Haewon grinned. "Drama queen."

Liz playfully shoved Haewon, then turned back to Kyujin. "So, what did you ask him?"

"A lot!" Kyujin said

"Then begin" Liz said sitting down back on the couch

Kyujin sat down across from Liz, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. "Okay, so first, I made sure to ask him what his intentions were. I wasn’t about to let him just string you along."

Liz raised an eyebrow. "And?"

Kyujin leaned forward, clearly enjoying the moment. "He said he genuinely likes you, and that he’s been interested in you for a while. He just didn't know how to approach you."

Haewon let out a low whistle. "Sounds like he’s already half in the bag, huh?"

"Not so fast," Kyujin said, "I had to make sure he wasn’t just messing around. So I asked him about how he would handle things if it got serious."

Liz’s curiosity was piqued. "And? What did he say?"

Kyujin leaned back, as if relishing the suspense. "He said he’d want to make it official, of course, but only if he knew you were ready. He didn’t want to rush things."

"Well, that’s... not the worst," Liz said, trying to hide the small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Right?" Kyujin smiled, clearly pleased with herself. "So, I let him know that if he hurt you, I’d have words with him. And, of course, I threw in a few threats for good measure."

Liz burst out laughing. "You’re unbelievable. A few threats? Really?"

Kyujin shrugged innocently. "What? A girl’s gotta look out for her best friend."

Haewon shook her head with a grin. "Kyujin, the protective big sister."

Liz nodded in agreement. "I guess you really do have my back, huh?"

Kyujin gave her a soft smile. "Always."

"So, anything else?" Liz asked

"I said that if he ever hurts you that he will have to deal with me first" Kyujin said

Liz couldn't help but laugh at that. "You really do take this whole best friend thing seriously."

Kyujin shrugged with a playful grin. "What can I say? You’re stuck with me."

Haewon smiled at the two of them, watching the bond between them solidify even more. "Well, sounds like Y/n’s in for an interesting ride if he hurts you, Liz."

Liz chuckled, feeling a lot more at ease now. "I don’t think he’ll hurt me. He seemed sincere, and after hearing that, I actually feel a little better about the whole thing."

Kyujin gave a nod. "Good. But don’t think I’m done with him yet. I’ll be keeping an eye on things. I’m like your unofficial bodyguard now."

"I’m just glad you're on my side," Liz said, her voice softer now.

The three of them continued to chat and laugh, the tension from earlier dissolving as they fell back into their usual rhythm. With their friendship stronger than ever, Liz felt more ready than ever to face whatever came next, whether it was You, Kyujin’s protective side, or even the drama that always seemed to follow them around. Whatever it was, she knew she wasn’t alone.

[bau-babes]

Let Your Warm Hands Break Right Through

This entire thing is fan service and I am said fan 😝. I blame my current hyper fixation with Smallville and ovulation week. I hope y’all enjoy!

WARNING:explicit sexual content, not proof read

“So if we carry the one here and make sure to show every step of the equation we should have no problem passing this final exam!” Reader says to Clark as they finally finish their last study question.

“That was literally the longest i’ve ever studied, I don’t even know what time it is.” Clark chuckled and looked down at his watch, his face fell as he realized it was already twelve o’clock at night. “You really should get home Reader it’s already twelve.”

You look to the window to see the expected dark night sky, but what you didn’t expect was the heavy rain fall and wind blowing every which way. “Oh my god! I can’t drive in this! I gotta call my dad I don’t know how i’m gonna get home.”

“It’ll be fine Reader just use the house phone and if I need to drive you I will.” You looked over at Clark and smiled his warm, kind eyes meeting yours. Every memory of your friendship started rushing back to you in that moment, you fought off the urge to hold the eye contact reminding yourself you’ve learned to suppress these feelings long ago and turn to dial your house number. “Hey dad, Clark and I got caught up studying and lost track of time, do you want me to just drive back home or crash here for the night because of the storm? Ok, Ok yeah, alright I’ll see you tomorrow, love you, bye.” Clark studied your mannerisms as you twirled the phone wire in your fingers, feeling his cheeks flush he couldn’t help but imagine what else your fingers have good use for.

“Well, I guess you’re stuck with me for the night Clark!” He chuckled snapping out of the trance you have him in so often lately, no matter what he can’t get every little detail of you out of his head but he knows if he said anything he could ruin your entire friendship. “Oh you know I’d never mind that.” You smirk at the smallest indication of flirting Clark lets slip, dreaming of a world where Clark Kent would even give you the time of day romantically.

“So i’ll sleep on the couch?” In a moment of pure strength and/or stupidity Clark can’t help but blurt out “No! Just sleep in my bed, no big deal i’ll sleep on the floor for the night.”

Your heart skipped a beat hearing those words. Did this mean something? Of course not, he’s your best friend, and come on now he likes girls like Lana, not a girl like you with round cheeks and an even curvier body. “Are you sure Clark? I don’t want to make you sleep on the floor that’s mean!” He takes a step forward and grasps at your shoulders looking at you deeply, a sincere look in his eyes. “I promise, I have no problem with sleeping on the floor, especially if it means you’ll be comfortable.” You smiled dipping your head to the ground unable to look into the blue eyes you knew were following your every movement and reaction. “That’s very sweet Clark, thank you.” “Of course Reader, anything for you.”

Those words rang in your ears, would he do anything for me? Would he if he knew how I really felt?

You both make your way up the stairs climbing each step until you stand inside Clark’s bedroom realizing another of the many dilemmas you’ve had tonight. “Umm… Clark do you have anything I could wear to bed?” your face fell as your mind raced with insecurity, you’ve seen this scene play out so many times, a boy giving the girl he likes clothes to wear that fit her five sizes too big. But that’s not what this is, you’re not that girl for him and his clothes definitely aren’t going to fit you like they would any other girl. “Oh yeah of course hold on a second.” He rummages through his dresser and you catch a glimpse of his biceps as he works his way through each drawer. “This should work.” He holds out his hand which carries a hoodie and plaid pajama pants. You reach for the clothes scared of what the outcome will be, but all of that falls away the second you feel the heat of his hand grazing yours. “Alright turn around Clark.” “yes ma’am”

He stares at the door hearing the shuffling of clothes behind him. He can’t help but let his mind wander to what the sight behind him must be, how beautiful the curves of your body look when they’re not covered by a sweater or a pair of jeans.His mind wanders further through his imagination to what would be underneath everything you’re wearing but he quickly refocuses his attention when he hears your voice from behind him. “Ok Mr.gentleman, you can turn back around.” His eyes rake the image of you in his clothes through his mind, wishing this moment, this entire night, could last forever. “You comfy?” He mentally facepalmed as those words left his mouth Really that’s the best you could think of Clark… “Yeah! Thanks so much again these are really comfortable.” you were so happy, realizing that his tall frame and broad shoulders caused his clothes to run bigger than you would expect, conveniently engulfing your body with a slightly oversized look.

You handed Clark the blanket at the foot of his bed and a pillow and got under the covers. “Good night Clark.” “Good night Reader.” He responded back with the slight twang of want in his voice, like there’s something he wasn’t saying. You flipped the light switch off and tossed and turned for a few minutes as the wind howled and the rain pounded against the window pane. Out of nowhere you see a huge lighting strike and quickly hear the loud thunder that followed, leaving the entire farm in complete darkness. “Shoot the power must of went out from the storm, you doing ok?” Clark said from the floor where he laid next to you. You spoke with a shake in your voice suddenly feeling a chill. “Yeah i’m ok, just feeling cold that’s all.” Clark heard the chatter of your teeth and spoke again. “Yeah the heater probably blew from the storm it’s ok i’ll ask my dad to look at it in the morning.” There was a long beat of silence until you spoke again, contemplating if the comment you were about to make would be too forward. “Clark, i’m cold so you must be freezing on the floor, just come sleep in the bed with me I don’t mind.” He was shocked by your words trying to piece together his own response. “You sure?”

“Of course Clark, you said it yourself you’d do anything for me, I feel the exact same it’s really no big deal.” He stood up and you could see his broad shoulders under the tight t-shirt he was wearing to bed. Scooting over you open the blanket to him and he crawls under placing the pillow under his head and spreading the blanket he had been sleeping with on the floor over both of your bodies. “Sorry it’s a bit of a tight fit.” You said trying to break the awkward silence you had never felt with him before. “it’s just for the night don’t worry too much over it.” Clark spoke so nonchalantly you began to be solidified in the fact he could never feel the same about you. That was however until he spoke again ten minutes later.

Hearing the chattering of your teeth and the slight shake of your body he spoke up. “You know we could cuddle… if you want obviously, I just noticed you were shaking is all, no pressure.” You chuckled to yourself at the dorky Clark you knew peaking back through making all of your nerves over sharing a bed with your crush melt away. “I have to be honest i’ve never cuddled with anyone before, but if it’ll make me warm I don’t mind.” You say lying straight through your teeth, you’ve wanted this for so long your body already begins to heat with anticipation, the thought of Clark’s body pressed against yours already giving you a rush throughout your limbs. He scooted closer and closer to you as you felt your heart rate skyrocket. “Is it ok if I show you how I usually do it?” The statement made you sad knowing that he had done this with other girls before, but you pushed past the thought and spoke up. “yeah, whatever’s comfortable for you, you’re the expert here.” He laughed and opened his arms. “Scoot really close to me, I know you usually like to sleep on your side so this’ll be comfortable,do you want to be the little spoon?” Your face flushed at the comment and you thanked God that the lights had gone out long ago. “Sure…i’ll be the little spoon.” He took your body and guided it next to his placing both of you on your sides, as he did this he pulled you closer almost effortlessly and began to wrap his arm around your body. You sank into the feeling of him pressed so closely to you and became entranced by it until you felt his arm wrap around your waist and fall to your stomach, palm flat against it. “Is everything ok did I make you feel uncomfortable? I could go back to the floor if you want! I-“ “No Clark! It’s fine, I just-“ The room felt silent and Clark spoke again, this time you became hyper aware of how close he was to you, how you could hear him whisper into your ear as he spoke. “Please Reader, you can tell me anything, you know that” He was so anxious thinking he let his emotions get the best of him as he waited for your response. “It’s just-Ididn’twantyoutofeelmystomachok?” It took Clark a moment to make out what you said but his heart broke when he heard you say it. “Reader, can I tell you something?”

The room stood still, Clark’s heart started racing more than he had heard yours race before. He gathered his words knowing there was no taking this back, here goes nothing… “I- I think you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever met and I know you don’t think about yourself that way but I do everything about you is so perfect to me and I don’t know how you can’t see it everytime I see you I just fall deeper and deeper in love with you and I don’t even know what to do with that at this point but I can’t have you lay here thinking you’re ugly because you’re the farthest thing from it.” He rambled for what felt like an hour to him, but a millisecond to you. You processed everything quickly needing more details, thinking this was some sick dream your mind conjured up. “You love me?” were the only words to fall from your lips. “Of course I do Reader, why else would I insist to study with just you, or make you sleep in my bed, or make sure to give you my favorite pair of pajamas? I’ve loved you for a very long time and I just couldn’t have you thinking I look at you with anything but admiration.”

“Clark, i’ve loved you for so long, I just don’t understand… why me? Why now?” Clark couldn’t believe what you had just said as he kept rambling in response to your questions. “You’re the most amazing person I know, you’re so kind, and smart, and loving, and everything about you from your head to your feet drives me crazy. I just- I couldn’t tell you because I was too scared, but having you here in my bed, feeling you against me, made me realize there was no better moment than right now. And don’t think I forgot what you said by the way, I think you’re the most beautiful woman i’ve ever met and I’m going to prove that to you some way, somehow.” “Oh Clark-“ You spoke but he cut you off as he bluntly said “Can I kiss you? Please-“ The heat rose through your body again stronger and more rapidly as your heart rate rose even more than before. “Yes Clark, please i’ve wanted this for so long” He cupped your cheeks and pulled you towards him, lips slack with his as you felt the warmth of him all over you, the kiss was slow and sensual tasting him and feeling as though you were breathing him in completely. “Can I show you how you make me feel?” Your mind raced as he spoke those words. “Please Clark, it’s all I want.” he couldn’t believe this was real and decided to ride this high for as long as possible. taking your hand with his he traveled it down his body, under the covers, and to the large bulge present in his pants. “Clark I-“ He wined as he spoke “Please Reader you’re all I think about, I need you. You’re so beautiful.”

“Clark- i’ve never- i’ve never done this before. I don’t know what to do-“ He was so close to you and his hand interlocked with yours, “I can show you.” all you could muster up the courage to say was “ Please Clark, I want to learn.” He guided your hand under his boxers moving it up and down his impressive length. “Just move slowly up and down.” You continued the steady motion and then asked, “Please can I take it out I wanna see it.” Clark was engulfed in pleasure as he spoke again “Of course baby, anything you want.” You moved the blanket and his cock sprung from his pajama bottoms, he moved his hand with yours guiding it up and down the shaft. His breath grew shaky and you spoke once again, riding off the high of his pleasure. “Can I- can I lick it?” His eyes widened and head reeled with excitement but he quickly took the situation into account as he spoke to you. “You don’t have to do that, I know a lot of girls think that you have to do that but you don’t, I just want you to be comfortable.” “Clark, I may not have done this before but I know what I want, please let me do this for you.” He grew more shocked and turned on and quickly said “Oh- ok yeah please, taste me baby please” You knew you wouldn’t be able to take him fully in your mouth so you decided to gently start with sucking just the tip.As you did you looked up at him for comfort and approval, you locked eyes with him and let out a chuckle sending his head backwards in an open mouthed moan. “GOD, you don’t know how long i’ve wanted this oh my lord please keep going.” You licked and sucked his cock for a few seconds more but when you decided to lick up the long vein on the under side of his cock he lost it, letting out whimpers of your name as he came in your hand. “OH MY GOD you’re incredible, please kiss me again.” You sat up and began to kiss him more feverishly, mindlessly rocking your hips against his knee, still not sitting fully out of insecurity. He pulled away from the kiss and began to kiss down your neck and he made his way to your ear moving your hair out of the way. He spoke in a deep whisper, a voice you had never heard before slipped from his lips. “come on baby ride my thigh I wanna see the way you make yourself feel good.” He saw the hesitation in your face and pulled farther away for a moment. “Clark I want to, I REALLY want to but I don’t think it’ll be comfortable for you. I’m just too heavy.” He began to get angry now, cursing every bully, magazine, or friend that ever made you feel this way about yourself. “Stop talking like that or i’m gonna have to show you just how sexy you are.”

Your mind raced thinking of the possibilities and a smirk found its way to your lips. “Clark, please show me, I want to know.” He laughed knowing the game you were playing, the witty girl he had known all these years finally peaking through her insecurity and self doubt. He flipped you over effortlessly and you yelped with shock and confusion littering your face. He kissed your lips softly and began raking in the look of your body as he did earlier in the night now finally achieving his long awaited fantasies. He kissed down your body over every part you had commented on over the years, the jaw you said was too soft, the collarbones you were sad never showed, the stomach you thought was too prominent, the legs you always complained never had a gap between eachother, until he reached your mound. He moved even slower now meeting your eyes as he took his time exploring you. “Please Clark-“ You spoke with a moan rising from the depths of your throat. “I know baby, I know just wanna take this slow with you, okay?” You nodded your head furiously waiting for the inevitable next step. He parted your lips with the tips of his fingers still locking eyes with you as he let an exploratory finger find its way inside of you. He began to move his hand back and forth feeling for the soft spongy walls within, looking at every twitch and reaction littered across your face. He then began moving his head closer and closer as you bit your lip with this new found feeling, not knowing what was to come next. He couldn’t resist anymore as he dove into you licking a stripe all the way up to your clit circling it with his tongue as you reveled in the new sensations. He continued his newfound favorite act and looked back into your eyes with mischief you were confused by this but didn’t pay it any mind as you were too engulfed in the new found pleasure.

This was until Clark hugged your legs and flipped you over until you were hovering over his mouth. “I want you to ride my face baby, don’t hold back it’s all i’ve been thinking about lately.” OH so THIS is what he meant when he said he was going to show you how sexy you are. Your mind tried to catch up with your senses but you longed for his tongue on you again. You began to sink down slowly and shyly, scared of hurting him. He began licking into your pussy again until he noticed how far away you were. “If we’re gonna do this then we’re gonna do this right. I already told you that.” He parted your legs even more than they already are and pulled you down onto his mouth by your waist. Your head fell back and any bit of insecurity fell with it. you looked down to see his eyes happier than they had ever been before and you began to unravel your inhibitions, rocking back and forth against his mouth. As you got closer he let go of you with a loud pop lifting you effortlessly as you whined wanting the sensation back again. “Go crazy baby rock into me, use me please I want you to feel good, this is all for you.” He pulled you down once again and started speeding up his movements you began to rock back even more feverishly, focusing on Clark and his eyes closed in his own pleasure you reached forward feeling the build up reach its peak with in your stomach and tangle your fingers in his messy hair, with this he lets out a long moan sending vibrations up your spine and causing the band in your stomach to snap. Catching your breath as you came down from the high you rolled off of him laying under the covers once again. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything too wrapped up in your own little world. You found your way back to him and cuddled into his chest once again getting comfortable. With a chuckle he spoke out loud “That was one hell of a way to warm up huh?” You laughed hearing this dorky personality shining through the man who just made you fall in love with him all over again. You cleared your throat to speak, “Yeah, we might have to try something else though… I’m starting to feel a little chilly again.”

[6mayhem]

said a bunch of shit i regret in the gc 🤣🤣🤣🤣 including telling my friend to shut the fuck up and take me serious for once i am not her goddamn punch line. but frankly deserved

[gunsatthaphan]

finally entering their comfort era 🥹💫🐱

[meidui]

“It kinda feels personal.” | for @catws-anniversary ♡