#through careful and deep discussion
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he's written several books about outer space after his thesis btw. most of them discuss popular theories and try to form a clearer understanding of every one of them + their origins + how realistic they are without roasting the original author to hell and back
#personal#one thing about rome he LOVES discussing things and all he wants is to Understand#other academics in his field would be very competitive and they're all constantly biting each other's dicks off#but he's simply breaking theories down in bit sized pieces to see how far they can be proven through science#other than that he would be critical of humanity's role in space because he believes they're not being careful enough (which is true)#they wanna use deepspace acceleration as a way to generate power but with the cold war going on and everything it's like#a rat race to the moon to build the facilities necessary for it to be the first nation to get the technology finalized etc etc#one of rome's most famous theories about the empty earth ends up being true because of humanity messing up deepspace acceleration#his sister and her crew were zapped there :( leviathan's influence#not going too deep into that right now i need more brainpower for that later but it's very scary and very cool
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i’ve been posting a bit ab jily recently bc i’m reading my first jily fic in years and i truly. genuinely. love them so much. i’ve never forgotten that but it’s being reinforced by this fic and it’s lovely. and i’ve been seeing more jily content on my “for you” page. which i love. what i didn’t expect to see was anti jegulus content tho??? like hello my user is JEGULore. idk if i exactly talk about jegulus a lot on tumblr specifically…but they are my all time favs unforch 🤷♀️🤷♀️. like…what
#not that this doesn’t make sense but it was just a bit shocking to see#also i always hear people talking ab jily shippers dissing on jegulus but i’ve never really…seen it. after all my YEARS in this fandom…like#idk#tired of people’s opinions tho idgaf but no one cares about what u have to say if you’re just spewing shit#also of your ENTIRE PAGE. and i mean ENTIRE PAGE is dedicated to shitting on regulus black and jegulus. just leave my friend. just leave#because you are at this point not even interacting with your side of the fandom. YOU’RE NOT EVEN HAVING FUN. you’re spoiling your own good#fun. you’re just stating opinions that are going to sway#NO ONE. i’m not saying you’re 100% wrong but like…who cares. we’re here to have fun. it’s not that deep. or maybe it is that deep but these#ships and characters bring so many people GENUINE joy and comfort. if it’s a bit iffy. well ok but leave it alone? idk.#but also shipping good guy x bad guy is not a concept jegulus invented. like sorry?? if u have such a problem with these#canonically awful x canonically saint ships…you’re gonna have to tear through every single fandom alive to rid the world of these ships#idk just. whatever happened to fun idk.#i actually hope no one sees this or reblogs bc. i don’t want to start a discussion
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Honestly the most revolutionary thing about Gravity Falls to me is its commitment to sincerity.
I’ve been listening to Alex’s podcast where he goes into the details of each episode with different storyboard artists and writers who worked on the show, and it just baffles me how… cared for the story is. Right now in media there’s been an uptick in satire, and shows making fun of themselves for existing, or taking the piss at their own content to “win” fans to their side. It’s like whimsy is gone from so many pieces of media. But Gravity Falls just doesn’t… do that. It completely embraces itself. Weirdness and all. And so does the team behind it. I’m not used to something I care about being so cared about by everyone surrounding it.
Here’s this cartoon, written and illustrated by an entire team of people saying, “no, we’re serious. we mean this. we made this on purpose and we made it important.”
Throughout the podcast, Alex discusses little ins and outs of each character, offering so much deep internal struggles and enriching the story even farther. And listening to him unpack it with the utmost sincerity just warms my heart. Each character is so dynamic because they were cared for by people who imbued them with sincerity.
That’s exactly why we get quotes like “Shame is powerful, but it grows in the dark,” as Ford realizes the trauma he’s hidden for so long is being embraced by his family, diminishing it’s weight on him through their immediate support.
It’s why we get Alex describing Stanley with quotes like; “I always in my gut thought of him as somebody with a huge well of sadness, a loss of human connection. And that need to please? That need to get laughs from the crowd, and putting on a big show? He’s trying to get from them the affection he never got from his family, and that he lost with his brother.”
Or detailing how Mabel might be a goof… but half the time she’s doing a bit, because she’s really more mature than her brother and doesn’t want him to grow up too fast. She’s trying to help ground him and bring lightheartedness into his life. Because she knows otherwise, he’ll become too self isolated.
And those two mini character studies he dropped so casually in these podcast episodes just… color the show. It’s why the show survived so well even after ten years. It’s gruff-old Stan always calling his niece “Pumpkin” and “Honey”. It’s the family always holding hands without it behind laced with a joke, and falling asleep on one another in the car. It’s Alex explaining that people toyed with other endings, other plot lines, other twists, but it was always going to end with Stan and Ford mending the family tie they severed thirty years ago. Because that was their story. Messes and family and care.
Ten years ago, watching it for the first time as it came out, I felt all that. But now, as an adult, knowing that all the other adults who made it felt the exact same way? :,) What a special story we all got to grow up with, and get to continue being apart of.
#gravity falls#the pines family#pines twins#gravity falls meta#gosh i’ll never stop loving this show#stanford pines#stanley pines#dipper pines#mable pines#roseys musings
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❝ 𝐈 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ! ❞
❝ I HEARD FROM A FRIEND OF A FRIEND, THAT DICK WAS A TEN OUT OF TEN !! ❞
✧ pairing: jjk au sorcerer! suguru geto x sorcerer! reader
✧ summary: geto's routine after a mission -- ingest the curses that he collects before his shower. but after he does, his body begins to burn and ache with lust to the point of pain -- and he can't get rid of the feeling alone. so what else can he do when you show up at his doorstep offering to help but accept it (aka a sex pollen / aphrodisiac curse fic).
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, jjk compliant au, geto stayed a sorcerer and didn't defect, reader is one year younger than geto, (set during jjk s1), aphrodisiac curse (sex pollen), multiple orgasms, multiple positions (missionary, doggy, riding, other positions mentioned: standing, against the wall, spooning from behind, against the wall), masturbation (m), soft dom! geto, oral (m +f), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, cervix fucking, panty stealing, squirting, mutual pining, a little angst (discussion of star vessel / premature death arc), but a lot of comfort, cuddling, gojo hijinks
✧ wc: 8,180
Suguru was only sure of one thing, as he stared at himself in the mirror — cheeks flushed red, sweat nearly soaking through his black t-shirt, and a painful and glaring problem in his boxers—
This was a curse — literally.
Curses were made up of different negative human emotions — from loneliness to grief to anger, these negative feelings would pool and create a curse. Sorcerers were made to exorcise these curses, and Suguru did so — but in a different way than the others. He had to consume them as part of his technique. And even with the hundreds of curses he’s swallowed over the years, he would never get used to the taste — a shit soaked rag used to clean up vomit was how he could best describe it, but even then, that didn’t come close to the indescribable act of swallowing the manifestation of the worst negative human emotions — at least for most of them.
The one he had swallowed today was different — he was sent to exorcise a grade 1 curse in the heart of Tokyo that dwelled in an abandoned building — from the inside, he could tell that it was used as a strip club and possibly a bathhouse-turned-brothel, from the seedy mattresses left behind with dirty sheets and mussed covers, with rusting incense burners placed around the room, and the gaudy, fake jewelry that laid strewn about the place — assumedly any real jewelry picked clean. He swore he could have even smelt the ever lingering scent of cheap perfume in the walls and vents.
But the greater concern was the curse he had found himself with — a grotesque creature that stared back at him — its body a deep maroon, many eyes dotting its back with a large pair of black lips that Suguru didn’t care to draw any closer to. It was more humanoid than most — its form showing a more sophistication than many curses did, muscles of its many arms contracted as it finally spotted Suguru, its many eyes settled their gaze on him.
It was far too easy for him to take down the curse in hindsight — far too easy — and it seemed to watch him summon curses — and he swore it almost had seen a glimmer of recognition in its eyes and then it allowed him to deal the final blow.
He had kept the curse on hand — he could swallow it later, when he was near a toilet and perhaps some mouthwash — though that barely did much to remove the taste from his mouth. He had returned to Jujutsu Tech to do his reports, and hopefully head back early — Satoru was out on another overseas mission and Shoko was busy tending to patients and bodies as always, but you—
He wasn’t sure what you were doing, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to text you. Not after what Satoru said.
“When are you guys gonna fuck already?” the strongest sorcerer asked, making Suguru choke on his Sprite — strong in ability, but not in tact, “you and her have been eye fucking for weeks and you had such a thing for her before she decided to move to Kyoto—”
“That was years ago—”
“She has a key to your apartment—“
“So do you!” he glares.
“Then what about last night at the bar?” Satoru leans back in his chair, lifting the front legs off the ground, as he pulled his sunglasses down, “you could have murdered the guy that was hitting on her with your look alone — and I think you did when you stuck yourself to her side with your arm around her waist, until he ran with his tail between his legs,”
If looks could kill, Suguru would have surely murdered his best friend — infinity be damned, “She looked uncomfortable, what was I going to do—”
“Well, she certainly didn’t look uncomfortable with you hanging all over her, now did she?” He raises an eyebrow, as he leans forward again, the front legs of his chair landing with a thunk, “what are you gonna do if a guy comes along that she falls for? You’re telling me you’re not gonna regret it, Suguru?” Suguru says nothing, unable to meet Satoru’s gaze, as Satoru crushes his own can into a ball, before tossing at Suguru, “You guys just got to hurry up and fuck,”
Suguru swats the crushed can away, “You’re disgusting,”
He grins, as his words seemingly only confirm what he assumes, “Disgusting, but correct, and if I’m right, you’re taking some of my missions off my hands,” he grins.
And Satoru’s words had been running around in Suguru’s head — just like any annoying song on the radio — but he couldn’t let Satoru’s words stop from hanging out with you. He had just gotten you back in his life again — he couldn’t lose you, not again.
Geto: Are you free to watch a movie and have takeout?
You: sounds good - did you get back from your mission alright? No injuries I need to yell at you about?
He snorts, as he types his reply: no, not this time.
You: Let’s keep it that way! :)
He bites back his smile as the two of you decide to have you head over in an hour to his place — you preferred it that way since you were still settling into your place, boxes still unwittingly everywhere there should be actual furniture. Last time he came by to pick a report up, he found you eating your meal on a packed box, instead of a table.
And he catches himself smiling, before his face sours at the thought of Satoru again.
Satoru was right — and he hated to admit it, his knuckles pressed to his lips. A year under him, you had spent days with him, along with everyone else — you always waited for him with his favorite snacks when he would return from a mission. You sat with him sometimes when he would get sick from swallowing curses, helping him swallow some water and saltines after he turned his stomach inside out. You were the one that pushed him when he hid his disillusionment from everyone else — even from Satoru. You wouldn’t leave him alone, you wouldn’t stop dogging his every step with snacks and comfort and company, hounding him to sleep, to eat, to say something, anything.
Until he did — one late night you spent up together — he didn’t sleep much those days anyway. And he told you everything — the poison seeping from his body, and leeching onto yours, your frown and hurt was the whole reason he hadn’t wanted to tell anyone to begin with. But the frown wasn’t yourself — it was for him, as your arms only curled around him, and he let you hold him the entire night.
“You don’t always have to pretend to be strong, Suguru. You’re allowed to be upset, you’re allowed to be angry, you’re allowed to grieve — but don’t bottle it up,” your fingers raked through his wet hair, undoing the tangles gently before running the comb through it, “don’t let it kill you from the inside out,”
“I feel like I did die — along with Amanai,” and you pause, your arms curled around his shoulders, chin resting on his head before you pinched his cheek and he flinched.
“There, you’re definitely not dead,” you say, “so don’t act like you are. And don’t act like you’re alone — because you’re not. You have me, you have Satoru and Shoko — even Nanami and—“ you voice cuts off at the thought of Haibara — “Haibara wouldn’t want you to hide from us, he looked up to you — more than anyone else, even Satoru,”
“I don’t know why,” he mutters with a sigh.
“I do,” your fingers guide his face to meet your gaze, your face an inch or two from his, “because you’re kind, you’re intelligent, and you’re strong,”
He scoffs, “Satoru is the strongest,”
“And you think Satoru thinks any differently of you? That any of us feel differently? You’re the only person who can understand him — and he’s the only one who understands you,”
He gives a small chuckle, “not the only one,” and he tears his eyes away, hoping you don’t see the way his cheeks burned.
And when he found those two sorcerer girls locked up — you were the one who called. The rage and anger had built into murderous intent, but he could hear your words ringing in his ears and before he knew it, he had called you to come to him.
You saved them together — Nanako and Mimiko had fallen asleep in your respective laps after all was said and done on the ride back — without much bloodshed (not that the blood that was shed was worth much, in his opinion) — and with Gojo and you smoothing things over with the higher ups (mostly with veiled threats and petty remarks), you managed to allow the twins to grow up safe, under Geto’s care, and your own.
At least for a time. After you graduated, Nanami left — and you were the only one of your class left — and the absence of your best friends weighed on you, even if you didn’t show it.
“I’m leaving for Kyoto,” you told him one afternoon the two of you spent lazing around his dorm, you sat against the bottom of his bed, as he lounged on the mattress, his gaze snapping to you, only able to see the back of your head, “this place holds too many memories — i need perspective, I need space from all of this,”
He wants to ask if you have to, ask you if he could convince you to stay, if he could do something, anything to make you stay — ask if he wasn’t enough to make you stay. But he doesn’t, because it’s the best decision for you. So he instead slips off the bed, sitting beside you, his hand ruffling your hair, “You’ll come to visit right?”
He knows you’re blinking back tears, but he pretends not to notice, your lip quivering, and god, he knows he wants nothing more than to tilt your gaze toward him by your chin and brush his lips against yours, until every sad thought has evaporated under his touch.
But he knows that would only be one more thought that would make things far more difficult — for the both of you. It was better this way. And it was. Years had passed, the two of you had become teachers at the Tokyo and Kyoto schools respectively — but as the years had passed, your relationship grew more distant, as it always seemed to with time and distance.
But then you decided to come back to Tokyo, transferred over — Yaga explaining it was due to all the happenings in Tokyo with the special grades and emergence of Yuji as Sukuna’s vessel — and he found himself in your presence again. And it was as if no time had passed — your days off spent in his apartment — as yours had become a haven of unpacked boxes. And he couldn’t help but wonder — when he’d glance at you in the dark of his living room, the only illumination was the TV that played some shitty horror movie (your words not his) you had put on — if the special grades were the only reason you’d come back. Your fingers were so close to each other’s on the couch, but an inch felt like a ravine.
One he couldn’t dare to cross.
But It was fine, just as he told Satoru — you were just friends, until both of you decided otherwise. Not that it would ever happen — no, he thought that ship had sailed, even if his heart had stubbornly said that it hadn’t.
Until he decided to consume the curse — and his heart was no longer the problem.
Or at least, not his main problem.
He sat in his bathroom, towel in the shower rack, ready to shower after he dealt with this. He had discarded his uniform jacket and pants — only in a black t-shirt and boxers. He stood by the toilet — as he learned his lesson the first few months swallowing curses — he never knows when one will turn his stomach inside out.
He holds the balled curse in his palm — he could feel it squirm just underneath of his cursed energy — the thing keeping it contained at all, itching to be freed from his grasp — though it never would. He pressed the ball to his lips, bracing himself as he opened his mouth, nearly having to unhinge his jaw for how large this curse was and pressing it past his lips and into his mouth. His palms pressed against his mouth, as he swallowed, eyes squeezed shut.
It…wasn’t as bad as he thought. He frowned, brow knit as he stared at his empty palm — it was still appalling to consume, but it was….sweet? But it burned as it went down, heat remaining in the pit of his stomach, even as it should have faded.
That should have been his first clue.
Either way, he turned on the shower before he shed the rest of his clothes, and stepped in. The water felt warmer than usual, as he washed his body first, letting his hair grow wet under the shower head. His fingers reached for the shower handle, turning it even colder, but his body barely reacted to the water — was it even cold?
Even under the water, he felt like his body was burning — a slow fire that lingered under the surface of his skin, burning and aching, the frigid water barely doing enough to soothe it. Running his hands over his body seemingly helped, a shiver running down his spine as he washed himself, but he knew it would have felt even better if it was you.
….what? He tried to shake that thought from his head — it wasn’t the first time he had thought of you like this. There were many times where his mind would drift to you at night, the warmth of your touch from a few hours ago still lingered, as his hard-on pleaded for his touch. Guilty gnawed at his conscious when he indulged, the first time being after a particularly vivid dream of you pinning him down while training — your mouth kissing down his body, eager fingers tugging at his shorts until that smirk met—
This wasn’t helping.
The burning had traveled southward, as his blood did, and he glanced down at his raging hard-on.
Fuck.
No, he couldn’t.
But his fingers were possessed, already reaching for his aching cock, large beads of pre-cum leaving his slit just as hand closed around it. He hisses when he does, a gasp ripped from his throat, as he braces himself against the shower wall with his other hand.
He palms his erection, swallowing thickly, as he grunts, as he begins to pump his cock from base to tip, smearing his pre along his length. But his mind wanders to you, how pretty you’d look pressed against the wall of his shower, his hard cock dragging between your ass. Lovely moans parting your lips as his fingers would reach around to rub at your puffy clit.
“Suguru, please—“
“Tell me what you want baby, gotta use your words,” he’d murmur, teasing your slick entrance with the tip of his cock.
“Need your cock — need you to fuck me,” you would whine, words nearly enough to make him bust there and then. And he would sink into you just as he does his fist, but your sweet cunt would feel so much better than his hand does.
Fucking wet and tight and just for him, as he works his dick deeper and deeper, until his tip is nudging your cervix. And he’d fuck you hard, just like he’s fucking his fist now, skin slapping each time his hips met your ass.
You’d cum before he would, he would make sure of it — one hand rubbing harshly at your clit, the other toying with one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. And your walls would squeeze and wring him dry, just as he squeezed his own dick now.
He spilled all over the wall of his shower, white spurts kept coming, as he grunted, imagining he was painting your walls instead. He panted, but as the afterglow ebbed away, the heat only came back tenfold.
He panted, as his fingers left his cock, only to find it still hard — the tip red and angry, twitching as he stared back at it.
What the fuck is going on?
He finally left the shower, pulling on his shirt and boxers delicately — every inch of his body felt feverish and sensitive, even the rubbing of his clothes against his skin was almost too much for him.
He stood in front of the sink, knuckles white against the porcelain as he tried to will his erection away, but each thought was only chased away with thoughts of you — of the dress you loved to wear riding up, of your legs spreading for him, of the wet patch on your panties—
He was so fucked. Sweat dripped into the sink, as he glanced at himself in the mirror — skin a ruddy red flush, lips impossibly dry, pupils blown out with need — he was so fucked.
He called Shoko — the embarrassment of this situation far gone at this point fading into plain need of wanting this situation to be over. One ring, two rings — finally five rings and she picks up.
“It’s not like you to call—“
“I need your help,” he cuts her off, biting back the groan from his cock rubbing against his boxers the wrong way — “I don’t know what’s happening to me,”
Her voice shifts from curiosity to concern, “Slow down, Suguru, tell me what’s going on,” and he tells her his symptoms — and she’s silent on the other line for a moment, “you have been a teenage boy before right? You’re not really calling me because you’re horny and you don’t know what to do—“
“It’s not that—“ he hisses, running a slow hand down his face, “I already tried…solving the problem myself but it didn’t work. And I feel weird — it only made it worse. I can’t stop sweating or thinking about—“ he cuts off — he couldn’t stop lewd thoughts of you from springing before his eyes, the thoughts of your moans, how soft your flesh would be under his fingers, how you’d look when he— “what is this, Shoko?”
She pauses on the line for a moment, “When did it start?”
“Right before my shower I think,” his mind foggy with need, he could barely even comprehend a coherent thought.
“And what did you do before your shower? Anything different?” he’s swallowing the lump in his throat, as he resists the urge to brush his hand over his hard-on.
He’s barely hearing Shoko at this point — “I took off my clothes, I got my towel, and then I—“ and the realization struck him — the curse, “I consumed the curse I collected today from my mission,” he mutters, “fuck—“
And then there’s a knock at the door, “Suguru?” He heard you call through the door. His dick throbs at the sound of your voice.
Shoko’s voice cuts through the white noise, “Suguru, the curse you ate — was there something different about it?”
“It was a grade one — it seemed a little too easy to defeat — it formed in—“ he swallows thickly, “in a brothel,”
“I’ve heard of curses being lustful, but not of them becoming a stimulant,” she murmurs, and he can hear her sigh, “you could try extracting the curse from your body — I doubt that would be effective at this point. I assume the effects will linger until the symptoms pass — just as it does when you become nauseous or sick from swallowing other curses,”
His phone buzzed with texts from you:
You: I’m outside, I grabbed takeout for us this time since you always treat me!
You: are you home?
His mind swam, it wasn’t the takeout he was craving — it was you. But no, no — he couldn’t. Not like this, but he was fighting a losing battle and he just about lost the war along with it.
“I don’t know, how do I get it to pass?” he was desperate, the sounds of your knocks and messages ringing in his ear, along with your sweet voice — why do you sound so good with his name on your lips? So sweet — his boxers grow even tighter — bet you even taste even sweeter.
“If dealing with it yourself didn’t work, then,” she sighs, “you’re going to need a partner,”
Another knock.
“Shoko, I have to go,” and he hangs up before she can get another word — a thought to thank her and apologize shoved to the back of his mind, as he stumbles to his door, a thunk as he nearly tumbled into it, wood and hinges groaning under the force and weight.
“Suguru?” you’re so worried yet his name on your tongue was nearly enough to have him cumming in his boxers then, the wet patch of his boxers nearly making the fabric translucent, “are you okay?”
He says your name, “You should go home, I’m not feeling well—“
“What’s wrong? Do you need help?” And he’s biting his lip, teeth digging into his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood, “let me in,”
“I can’t—I can’t let you help with this,” he’s shaking his head, “please, sweetheart, you have to go—“ And he hears the clink of your key going into the door — fuck, that goddamn key he gave you, and the door pulls open, just as he braces himself against the doorframe.
Your brow furrowed in concern, takeout bag in hand, as your eyes examined him, until they found their way to his boxers.
“Suguru—“
“You should leave — I can’t explain, there’s a curse inside me—“
Your eyebrows knit together, “Suguru, a curse did this to you? What happened?” And he’s shaking his head, mind far too gone, as he forces himself away, “let me help—“
“You can’t help. I have to get out of my system but the only way is—“ he cuts off, as he groans again, body and mind railing against each other, as his body just seemingly burns from even being near you.
“There must be something—“ and you step closer, and he can barely hold back from grabbing you, fingers twitching to wrap around your waist, the other holding your neck, lips finding yours, as he fucking rips his own clothes off— “I want to help—“
He’s tugging at the collar of his shirt incessantly, as you step closer, closing the gap between your bodies, and he can only focus on the way your pretty lips part, the way your chest curves under your shirt, and the far too short shorts you choose to wear — fuck.
He was so fucked.
He can’t hold back, as he’s drawing close to you in a moment, his mind clouded with lust, the hitch of your breath only making him want you more — but he forced every muscle in his body to stop. He couldn’t. Not until you agreed.
“If you don’t want me to fuck you right now,” he says lowly, his lips nearly brushing your ear, “I want you — regardless of this, I’ve wanted you for so long,” the confession tumbles from his lips because he needs you to know, needs you know so you can either leave him to his fate or help him get through this, “but if you don’t feel the same—“
But to his surprise, you lean closer, breath warming his skin until it was left scalding, “who said I didn’t?”
And he can’t hold back.
His lips crash to yours, his hands holding your cheeks, as he grasps desperately to you, takeout boxes spilling from the plastic bag and your purse spilling your things when you drop it, your fingers grasping at his damp t-shirt.
And your touch alone even through the fabric is nearly enough to make him bust a nut there and then — and his mind hadn’t even felt so clear until he felt your touch. He could notice every little detail about you — the way your breath caught when his fingers ghosted down your sides, the way your lips parted for his tongue without hesitation, and the way your knees shook when he squeezed your hips.
“So pliant for me,” he murmurs, eager to touch more, to taste more, “such a good fucking girl, aren’t you?”
And you’re nodding wordlessly — lips kiss ruined and red, saliva clinging to your lips when he parted from your lips — and he wonders which one of you swallowed a glorified sex curse.
“Know how long I wanted to do this?” words said pressed with heated kisses down your neck — he was right, you tasted so sweet, he bet another part of you tasted even sweeter — “how many times I thought about this?” He nibbled at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, rewarded with a pretty gasp, “wanted to mark you up so many times — when that fucker tried to hit on you — I wanted to do more than just wrap my arm around you. Wanted to show him how he could never please you,” and he’s sucking a mark there, teeth grazing and pinching your skin before he soothes it with his tongue. He smiles against your skin, as he admires his handiwork.
You whine when he drags a thumb down your puffy lips, “Sugu, please, more,” and his lips find yours again, swallowing your complaints and moans eagerly, as his large palms slide down your back to rest on your ass, squeezing as he presses you flush to his body, hard on pressed against your body.
“Need my touch that much, Princess? Should’ve just fucked you in that club, huh? Let them see that you’re mine,” And he’s walking you backwards towards his room, as he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it onto the floor of his living room. Your fingers running over his exposed flesh, thumbs teasing his sensitive nipples, pretty little lips pressing teasing kisses to both sides.
Fuck, the need to bury his cock in you grew by the second. But he wanted to feel good first — been waiting too long. He had all night to fuck you — but he only had one time to do it right the first time.
He’s walking you into the edge of his bed, as you both tumble onto the bed, his hands sliding under your shirt, tugging at the hem, and you help him take it off — and he hissed at the sight of nothing underneath.
“Were you always coming to my place with no bra on?” his lips curl, as your eyes look away, embarrassment painted on your expression, “wanted this as long as I did, Princess? Don’t get so shy now — you’re the one who insisted on helping me, so aren’t you going to fulfill your promise?” His lips brush against your earlobe, lips wrapping around it and sucking lightly.
You shiver, biting your lip, before you’re tugging him fully onto the bed, before slinking off of it and onto your knees for him, “Then let me help you,”
When your fingers toy with the elastic of his boxers, he’s ready to cum right there — he’s so sensitive still, he’s sure he won’t last long, but fuck, he doesn’t care with how pretty you look between his legs.
“Don’t be a tease, Princess, or I’ll pay you back later,” but your lips only curl, as you lean forward and press a kiss through the drenched fabric, tip of your tongue teasing his slit through his boxers.
“Oh I expect you to,” and you’re pulling his boxers down painfully slowly, letting the fabric of his boxers rub against his hard-on teasingly, a low hiss leaving the thin line of his lips, his balls aching with his release as his cock slaps against his stomach, ���fuck, Sugu,” you murmur in almost reverence — he was thick, the tip flushed red with lovely beads of pre-cum already dripping down his length, your fingers already eager to trace those pretty veins, and feel the slight curve of his cock in your aching cunt, “how am I gonna fit you all in me?”
And his cock twitches at your words, as you pity him with a chaste kiss to the top, “Please,” he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, fingers knuckles white as they fisted the now creased sheets, “fuck—“ as you blow air along his length, “I’ll cum all over your face at this rate,”
“Oh I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Sugu?” your point finger lightly follows the trail of his vein, as your lips continue to press butterfly kisses along his length, “paint my face with your cum,”
And his fingers thread themselves in your hair, pressing his length to your lips, and you smirk, looking up at him with half lidded gaze, as your lips part and his length slides in — that’s all it takes.
The coil in his stomach snaps, as he cums down your throat, hot seed spilling into your mouth, as his hips jerk against your mouth, his groans of your name sending a hot stripe of heat down to your cunt.
Despite that, his cock only seems to grow larger, twitching against your tongue, as you part for a moment, a trail of saliva and cum dripping from your lips, “Taste so good, Sugu — gotta have you one more time—“ you envelop him with your lips again — and he’s a mess of moans, head thrown back, thick haze of lust as his eyes finally meet yours. You swallow around him, tongue wrapped around his length, as your sinful fingers touch whatever can’t fit in your mouth.
“S’good baby, should’ve fucked this mouth a long time ago,” and he’s gone, as his hips begin to slowly roll against you, watching as you don’t resist, the tip of his cock brushing against your throat, “good fucking girl, never gonna go a day without these lips around my cock,” and god, he’s so close — twitching in your mouth, but what sends him over the edge is when he feels you moan, and spots your hand down your shorts.
Fuck, he’s pulling out, “can I—“ and you pump him in response, a grunt of your name as you let him cum all over your face and chest, the sight enough to make him hard all over again — his thick release slipping down your lips, as your tongue darts out to taste it again.
And he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, tasting his own cum on your lips, before grabbing his discarded shirt to clean you off. His hand grabs your wrist and eases it from inside your cunt, tongue darting out to lick the release from your fingers, cleaning each of them.
In an instant, he’s got you spread on his bed, legs parted for him, “where’s that attitude now, pretty?” And his lithe fingers sneak under the elastic of your panties and snaps it against your skin, making you squirm, “seems like all those words fell out of your head just from sucking my cock,”
He’s slowly dragging your underwear down, before pulling at his bedside drawer to stuff your panties in, “for later use,” and you can’t managed a reply before his lips are pressing butterfly kisses up your thighs, before his teeth graze the soft flesh of your inner thigh, drawing a gasp from your lips, before sucking and soothing it with his tongue, “mine, all mine,” he’s already hard again — the feel of your soft skin under his lips was enough to have him cumming again like a virgin — the burning in the pit of his stomach only burned brighter for you — god, would he ever work his way out of this state? But as his gaze was met with your lovely dripping cunt with your puffy clit begging him for attention, he couldn’t seem to care.
You hiss when his fingers slowly spread your folds, “So fucking tight, baby, how am I gonna fit in you?” he clicks his tongue, inhaling, as his nose brushes against your clit, making your hips jump, “patience, gotta take my time with this princess cunt, gotta make sure you’re ready for me,” his dick twitching at his next sentence, “because I sink my cock in here, we’re not stopping at one round,”
Your cunt squeezes around nothing at his words, his breath warming your sensitive pussy, until he finally drags a stripe up your needy folds.
“Sugu, fuck,” his arms brace your thighs and hips down, as the tip of his tongue drags teasing circles around your clit, your slick gathering on his tongue, as he tastes it with a groan.
“Fucking, the best thing I’ve tasted,” and as much as he wants to bury his dick in you, he could live with his face between your thighs, “so perfect f’me,” and his tongue trails in tight circles around your clit, while his finger toys with your entrance, gathering your pre on his finger, teasing your entrance and delighting in the way your breath hitches.
He looks up at your face between half lidded eyes, you’re too fucking pretty — your hair a mess from, a sheen of sweat on your body, the lovely way your nipples were erect, and your eyes — pupils lost to lust and need. And all for him.
Fuck, he knows he won’t last long at this rate, he can already feel the urge to palm his raging cock, but he wants you to cum first, and he’s sinking a finger into your sweet cunt. He can almost imagine how your walls would feel fluttering around his cock — but he doubts his engorged tip would be even fit right now.
No, he needed to make this good for you — he slowly starts to finger fuck you as his tongue circles your clit in tighter circles, even sucking on it, and by the way your fingers grasped at the sheets, crumpling under your touch — you liked it.
Pretty moans left your lips, as your fingers found their way to his dark locks, still slightly damp from his shower — as he added a second finger inside. His name said between pants, as his fingers drag against your molten insides — the wet squelch rang in his ears as he fucked your cunt open. Knuckle deep in your sweet pussy, he knows he’s addicted — to the feeling of your molasses insides — warm and soft for him, his digits curling against your walls, looking for that one place that would make you fall apart.
“Sugu, please, please ‘m close—,” and he knows you need a little more, and he’s obliging with a chuckle, a third finger joining the other two, and he’s fucking you in earnest now — lips closing around your clit and sucking mercilessly, as his fingers find that spongy spot that has you seeing stars. Your back arches, as your nails dig into his scalp, as you cum around his fingers — walls fluttering as he eats you out through your high, his name leaving your lips again and again, as you slowly come down from your high, thighs twitching and chest heaving as you do.
As he finally pulls away, his chin and mouth glossy and drenched in a mixture of your cum and his spit — that he licks clean from where his tongue can reach, fingers collecting the rest, as he looks at your sticky cum gathered on his fingers.
Fuck, he could live in your cunt. Your sweet taste was the only thing he’d crave now after consuming curses — he wondered if you’d let him eat you out for hours after the curses he ate — he was sure your taste was the only thing that would erase that disgusting like nothing else ever would.
He’s giving you soft kisses after, dotting them up your body, murmuring praises, but you’re pulling him into a kiss, your fingers resting against the back of his neck, as your other hand finds his aching erection, swallowing his gasp with pleasure.
“Want you, Sugu, please,” and your words are enough to make him cum right there, as he tugs your hand away, “Sugu—”
“Won’t last long if you keep touching me and whining like that, Princess,” the heat only seems to lick at his skin like flames, engulfing him with every touch, and his cock was the epicenter of the wildfire, while you were the fuel that only made it consume you both to ash, “but I know it won’t be long until I’m fucking you again anyway,” Your cunt throbs at his words, as he draws close, dragging his weeping tip against your folds, watching his pre-cum smear against your slick with a grunt, “feels like you’re already trying to swallow me up, princess — you want this cock that bad?” fuck, he can’t hold back anymore, as he’s lining up himself up, and he’s sliding right into you with a groan, “know how long been waiting to do that?” his skin meeting yours as he bottoms out deliciously, stretching your walls out with his girth, pleasure ripping up your spine, “wanted to do this since the moment you walked through the door, but needed to do this right — when nothing about this was right,” he had so many things to say, while your mind had left you with not even a syllable, his cock twitched and pulsed inside your walls, dragging against it deliciously, “wish our first time wasn’t like this — but I’m so glad it’s finally happened, sweetheart,”
And you can’t help but smile up at him, lips parted with a small moan, as tears burned at your eyes from his size, “Me too, Sugu, wanted you for so long, needed you—” and he’s kissing your tears and words away with his lips,
Then he begins to fuck you — hard, the slapping of your skin and the wet squelch of your sex filling up most of the silence of the room, while both of your moans and grunts took up the rest. Your cunt was heaven to him — warm, wet walls wrapped around his aching cock — the slightest bit of relief was overcome with waves and waves of need — he needed to fuck you, needed to make you cum, needed to cum inside — he just needed you.
“S’big, Sugu, too big,” you whine, he was almost too much for you, the way his dick fucked places you only could imagine reaching, as his mouth leaned down to take a pert nipple between his lips — sucking and licking, as he couldn’t have enough of you, while his hand toyed with the other, “feels too good,”
“I know baby, gonna fuck your princess cunt so good — make sure its made just for me,” he’s murmuring, as his teeth graze your tit, as he pistons into you again and again, the tip of his cock brushing your cervix with each thrust, “all mine, baby, fuck — such a good girl for me,” and the praise has you keening against him, the knowing flutter of your cunt that tells him you’re all too close to the edge, as his hand reaches between your bodies to rub at your clit, “cum for me, pretty, need to feel your pretty little cunt squeeze me,”
And you do, falling apart as he fucks you through your orgasm, again and again — fuck, you felt so good, as he watched his cock slip in and out of you, a white ring of your release forming around his base. He’s fucking close too — can feel his balls tense, eager to blow his load, “where—”
You’re still moaning, eyes blown out in pleasure, as you watch him fuck you again and again, “Inside, Sugu, fill me up,” and that’s it, he’s gone — spurting his hot release, painting your walls, as he does, fucking it inside you — deeper, deeper, until he stills for a moment. And you’re twitching, eyes fluttering shut, when he pulls out, a groan parting his lips as he watches his seed spill from your cunt.
But then silence for several moments, the soft pants of your breathing only, before you hear him swearing and grunting, as your eyes open, and your pussy twitches at the sight before you. Suguru’s hand slid up and down his still erect cock, his eyes squeezed shut, as he groaned, “Suguru—”
“Wasn’t enough, need more,” he’s shaking his head, as his fingers squeeze around the base of his cock, “thought it would be enough to cum with you, but I can still feel it—” and he’s groaning, as you sit up, watching your mixed releases drip from you, “baby—”
And your lips kiss the tip of his weeping cock, “I told I’d help you,” and you ease his hand away, as you lick up his length, your eyes fixed on his, “just because we fucked, doesn’t mean we’re done,”
And in a moment, he’s got you flipped onto your hands and knees, as his cock slaps against your ass, his fingers squeezing the flesh, as he leans over to kiss your back, “Then I guess we’re gonna be up all night, sweetheart, because if you’re okay with this — I don’t think I’ll be satisfied with just a blowjob,” his tip drags against your messy cunt, “gonna need something a little tighter than your mouth,” and he’s sinking his thick cock into you again, balls slapping against your ass as he begins to fuck you, “better cancel any plans you have, pretty — because we’re not leaving this bed for a while.”
“Don’t fall asleep on me, baby,” his fingers grab your chin, and force you to meet his gaze, as he fucks into you, as you sit on his lap, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, “almost gonna cum, and don’t want you to be asleep for it,”
How many times had you fucked? You had lost count — but you knew you had done it in far too many positions — on your hands and knees, standing up, against the wall, from behind with his hand gripping your leg up, and far too many others — and now you were spread in his lap, cock deep in your pulsing pussy, his lips kissing your neck, as he fucked into you, his dick reaching a deeper angle from this position, easily able to hit the furthest parts of you.
He had cum in you more than you thought was humanly possible — and you supposed it wasn’t — it was only the curse that enabled this — it was animalistic even, the way he rutted into you desperately. He grabbed a water bottle only to take a swig, and find your lips again, forcing you to swallow the water.
“Good girl,” he’s grunting, his hips beginning to stutter, “I’m close baby, are you?” You hadn’t thought it was still possible to feel pleasure at this point, but it was — his cock dragged against your walls, his dark gaze finding yours, “tell me you wanna cum,” and your pussy twitches at his order, “use your words, pretty, or have I fucked them all out?”
“Please, Suguru, I wanna cum on your cock,” and you’re so fucking close again — the all too familiar knot in your stomach ready to snap any moment.
“Fuck, greedy pussy hasn’t enough of me? We’ve been fucking until the daylight now,” as his hand grabs your chin to make you see the first rays of light peaking over the horizon, and he’s making you bounce on him with each thrust of his dick — your orgasm building and building with every brush of his tip against your g-spot, “fuck, s’good for me, baby — been so good — just need one more and we can stop,” and tears stream down your cheek that only make him groan, his lips finding yours in a messy, sloppy kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth right as his cock hits at the deepest part of you—
And you squirt all over him, drenching his cock and lap as you cum, your lips parting from him, as your head is thrown back, boneless, as he fucks into you, your spasming walls pulling him over the edge as he paints your insides with his release, fucking it into you, until he finally slows, your body draped on his, head resting on his shoulder. Bodies sticky with sweat and cum, his cock finally softens inside you, the heat finally beginning to dull, as he presses soft kisses and gentle caresses to every inch of your skin, as he lays you down carefully, pulling himself from you.
“Thank you, princess, thank you,” and you’re burying your face in the crook of his neck, soft breaths cooling the sheen of sweat on his skin, “did so good for me,” and he slowly rises, grabbing his shirt and running it under water to clean you off, if only a little.
You’re already half asleep, eyes only fluttering half open to watch him, and he can’t help but bite his lip, “Sugu?”
“Yes, princess?” And you nod, fingers twitching for him, and his lips curl as he obliges, wrapping you up in his body, “know it was rough on you baby, I’ll make it up to you — don’t worry, just rest,” he grabs a water bottle, and lifts your head ever so slightly and helps you drink some water.
“I know you want to ask me something,” and he pauses, as he pulls the bottle away, “I can see the gears grinding in your head — you can ask me anything, y’know,” you had quite the way of embarrassing him, didn’t you?
“I know, I just,” he swallowed, “was there any other reason you came back to Tokyo, aside from the threats, did you come back for anything else?”
And your lips curl, raising an eyebrow knowingly, “Anything or anyone you mean?” and you chuckle when his eyes can’t meet yours, your fingers finding his again, “baby,” and your hand brushes against his cheek, tracing the cut of his jaw, making his breath catch, “I did come back for someone — a very particular someone,” and he smiles, as your lips lean up to press a chaste kiss to your lips, “and my friends, of course,” you add, “I love Utahime, but I missed Shoko and Satoru, and you,”
“You did?” he murmurs, and you giggle, kissing him again, melting into his touch again, as your foreheads brushed against the other’s, “Sugu?” and it’s your turn to ask something now, chewing on your bottom lip, “can we do this again?” you murmur, before adding, “not like this but—“
And he laughs, pulling you impossibly closer, lips finding your leaping pulse, “Yes, we can, if you want to — because I know I do, because,” his thumb brushing the length of your cheek, “but I want all of you — want your body, your thoughts, your time, your heart and soul—“ and his lips quirk at the sight of your eyes widening ever so slightly, “is that okay?”
And your lips find his own as an answer, sweet kisses turn languid, heat stealing any doubts from either of your minds, “As long I have yours as well,” and the two of you share only a few more kisses, before you both finally drift off.
“If he’s fine, and I’m checking on him, I’m kicking his ass,” Satoru grumbled, as he held his phone between his cheek and his shoulder, Shoko sighing as he rooted through his pockets for his keys.
Shoko chewed her lip, she hadn’t heard from him in hours, “He was in bad shape, I can't find the time to go check and you were on your way home anyway,” Shoko says, wiping her brow, twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers.
“Yeah, on my way home back from a mission,” he finally finds his keys, sticking Suguru’s spare key into the lock and turning it, “If I have jet lag, and all I find is him jerked off and sleeping, you owe me,”
He twists the knob, and looks — he doesn’t see Suguru in the living room or kitchen — but he does see takeout containers spilled on the floor, along with a very familiar bag, and he blinks, before his lips curl. He asks if she’s heard from you, to which she says no,
He walks silently to Suguru’s bedroom, opening the door a crack to see you and Suguru curled up against each other, your head on his chest, his arm wrapped around you, the comforter strewn about and covering the rest of your bodies.
Satoru only grins, before he pulls his phone from his ear and switches to the camera.
“Never mind, Shoko, I owe you one,” and he snaps a picture of the two of you, wondering how many missions he could pawn off to Suguru now, “I’ll treat you to lunch.”
✧ a/n: so this turned out way longer than i thought (story of my life). i had so much fun writing this - i've been writing this in conjunction with prof geto part 3 and its been funny darting back and forth between these two -- although the scenes i've been writing
✧ taglist: @peachyminx, @garfunklefield, @unicornqueen05, @hiyori-ii, @equikaz, @unoriginalidea, @forest-fruits-jam, @torusinfinity, @hellkaiserinphoenix, @loonimae, @gojoedd, @sugurufic, @glaceliy, @telvess, @kentocalls, @nayasch, @iluvvreze, @yamaguccitadashi, @faeismism, @hanxyy, @catsgomurp, @sukaibg, @sugurusdiscordmoderator, @gojorgeous, @getos-slvtt, @sirencholia, @teatreeoilll, @dewdropdive, @appysauc, @kobycetacean, @missroki, @fushitoru, @pricetagofficial, @that-goth-bisexual, @shoyosdoll, @regrettinglifechoices, @mostinsanegirl, @roseybean, @fayyyrieee, @gojobbg, @strangehuman101, @saccharine-nectarine, @i-belong-in-a-retirement-home, @spider-fan72
#sab [mlist]#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru smut#geto x reader#geto smut#suguru geto smut#geto suguru x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#geto x you#jjk x you
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All of You, All of Me [Logan Howlett]
Summary: In a world of black and white, the only person who could bring colour to your life is the last one who'd want to.
Warnings: au where everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate, fem!reader, slow burn, angst, running away from feelings, pining, grovelinggg WC: 14.2k - MASTERLIST - A/N: help i'm sorry i didn't mean for it to get this long, but this fic is my baby
----
You've always cherished the idea of having a soulmate—someone who would love you unconditionally, waiting just for you as you them. The thought of finding that perfect match, the one who complements you in every way, is something you’ve always dreamed of.
But as you get older, the hope you carry seems to dwindle more and more each year. Everyone around you has found their other half, reveling in the newfound ability to see colours in all their glory, and soaking up every moment of shared affection.
Everyone, except for you.
Your world remains a stark, colourless void, as if the universe is deliberately withholding the one thing you desire most.
And to make matters worse, despite not finding your soulmate, you are unequivocally, irrevocably in love with someone who has.
Logan Howlett.
You can’t remember a time where you didn’t feel anything toward him. His rugged, lone-wolf demeanor snuck its way deep into the crevices of your heart, and made itself a home there.
You and him formed an unlikely friendship, formed through the desire to fight back against all the people who’ve wronged mutants. Over the years, you had accepted the fact that while he wasn’t yours, at least you were alone together. Well, until she came.
Jean Grey.
She was strong, charming, and everything you felt you weren’t. It was no wonder her and Logan were meant to be together—the stoic, brooding mutant and his graceful, strong-willed counterpart.
You remember the day it happened so vividly, it’s almost like you were the one who found their life partner. You and him had been walking around the mansion, when Charles had called you into his office to meet someone new. One look at their faces when they made eye contact and you knew you’d lost him.
It pained you to see them all over each other, all the time. Your once-regular walks in the garden became rare, then vanished entirely. On missions, he no longer looked out for you; his attention was consumed by protecting her. And as much as it hurt, you couldn’t deny they seemed perfect for each other—just as soulmates should be. You had no right to feel jealous.
Then, just as quickly as she had entered his life, she left it.
The Pheonix was too strong, ripping her apart from the inside out. The pained scream he let out as not only his heart died, but as the world around him faded back into black and white, was forever ingrained into your memory.
Logan was never the same after that.
—
You trudge down the familiar halls of the mansion, your feet heavy with the weight of the day. It’s been long, filled with training sessions, team meetings, and a lot of paperwork. All you want to do is retreat to your room, lose yourself in a book, or maybe just sleep until the ache in your chest dulls.
As you walk, you hear faint commotion down the hallway—a low murmur of voices and the occasional clatter of something being moved. But you pay it no mind, too lost in your thoughts to care. Another mission, another discussion, another moment where you aren’t needed. It’s all so routine now.
Lost in your reverie, you don’t notice the figure walking toward you until it’s too late. You collide with a solid chest, the impact jolting you back to reality.
“Oh, sorry—” you begin, stepping back, but the words die on your lips as you look up.
It’s Logan.
Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, shock rippling through your body as you process his presence. And for a moment, neither of you speak. You just stand there, taking him in—the man who was once your closest friend, the man who was torn apart by grief and loss. His clothes are rumpled, his skin rougher than you remember, like he’s been through hell and back.
You hadn’t seem him in a long time. After the devastation, he stopped talking to everyone. He holed himself up in his room for days at a time, only coming out in the dead of night to eat. Either that, or he was away on a mission–anything to stay distracted.
But now, looking at him, there’s something different off. Something you can’t quite place your finger on. Did he always look like that? Maybe it’s the way the light above is reflecting off of him. Or maybe it’s—oh.
Looking around in surprise, you watch as the usually dark, stoic walls explode into a deep, rich shade. The carpet below you—no longer a mural of grey—radiates colors you can’t name. Your hands, his eyes, his hair-
You want to open your mouth and say something, anything, to the man who has caused your world to shift on its axis, but he’s already turned, walking away from you.
“Give me a fuckin’ break.”
----
Brown. Logan’s hair is brown.
After Logan leaves you paralyzed in the hallway, you run to your room, find the book on colors you had stashed in your bedside table, and throw open the cover. In it is a diagram that displays every known colour and their names. You learn that your favorite pair of pants are maroon, your bedsheets are navy green, and the X-Men suits are bright yellow and blue.
You stare at the page, each word blurring as your mind tries to process the impossible. Logan’s hair is brown. The thought keeps repeating in your head like a mantra, over and over again, until it becomes a steady thrum, drowning out everything else.
Brown.
You sit back on your bed, letting the book slip from your hands, the pages crumpling as it hits the floor.
Why him? Why me? Why now?
You begin to fidget, the adrenaline of the prior moment causing your heart to flail in your chest like crazy. You can’t stay here, you think to yourself. The idea of locked in your room with only your thoughts for company does not sound appealing. You need air, something to ground you, something to clear the haze clouding your head. Without thinking, you jump out of bed and find yourself heading up to the roof, the one place where you can breathe without feeling like the walls of the mansion closing in on you.
The trip up the stairs feels longer than ever before, each step heavy under the weight of your mind. It’s like every thought adds ten pounds. When you open the door, the cool night air hits you like a welcomed slap to the face, and you exhale deeply.
Walking to the edge, you lean against the railing. You’re in a daze - wondering if you made up the entire thing in your head. The only proof that you haven't, and that Logan being your soulmate is real, is the colours that coat the mansion’s grounds. The moonlight bathes everything in what you now know as a soft, silver glow, and for a moment, you just stand there, looking out into the distance.
It doesn’t make sense, and the more you try to wrap your head around it, the more tangled your thoughts become. You don’t want to face the possibility of what it could mean, but you can’t just brush it aside either. It has quite literally changed your entire life.
You close your eyes, taking a deep breath in an attempt to quiet your racing mind. But when you open them again, you freeze.
Logan is standing at the other end of the roof, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the sky. He hasn’t noticed you yet, and for a split second, you consider turning back, retreating before he sees you. It would be a wise idea - he didn’t want to talk to you then, and he probably doesn’t want to talk to you now. But, it an act that can only be seen as your own body betraying you, you take a step forward.
The sudden movement catches his attention, and his head snaps in your direction, his eyes locking onto yours.
“Why are you here?” he asks accusingly.
You hesitate, unsure of how to answer. Seeing him out here was the last thing you had expected, and now that he’s in front of you, you are at a loss of words.
Logan’s eyes narrow, and he pushes off the wall, walking toward you. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I needed air,” you manage to say, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I just needed to clear my head.”
“Well, find somewhere else to do it,” he snaps, “I don’t want company.”
“Logan, I—”
“Don’t,” he interrupts, not even bothering to hear you out. “Don’t start. I know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t want to hear it.”
You blink, taken aback, and hurt at his coldness. “What are you talking about?”
He lets out a low, humourless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You think I don’t know what’s going on? God, I… this is all so fucking stupid.”
Your heart skips a beat, and you feel a flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks. “I wasn’t—”
“Enough!” he barks, his voice echoing in the night. “I’m not interested, alright? Whatever it is you think is happening between us, it’s not real. It’s just some stupid trick of the universe, and I’m not playing along.”
His words hit you like a physical blow - like you’ve just been shot at right in the heart - and you have to bite your lip to keep from crying out. “I don’t understand. I didn’t mean for any of this—”
“Yeah, well, neither did I,” he snaps at you, “And I’m not gonna sit here and pretend like there’s something here,” he gestures between you two, “when there isn’t. You’re not mine, and I’m sure as hell not yours.”
The finality in his tone leaves you breathless, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. You have nothing to say back, he’s not giving you any slack. The reality of his rejection sinks in with a brutal, crushing weight, you have to put in effort to not stumble over.
After a long moment, you finally collect yourself. Then, “Okay,” you whisper. “I understand.”
Logan’s expression doesn’t soften; if anything, it grows colder, more distant.
“Good. Then stay away from me.”
You nod, eyes filling with tears. You quickly turn your face away, not wanting him to see just how much he’s hurt you.
“I’m sorry,” you murmur, barely audible. “I didn’t mean to make things worse for you.”
He doesn’t respond, doesn’t even acknowledge your apology. He just turns away, his back to you, effectively shutting you out.
You stand there for a long moment, watching him walk away for the second time that night. The colours that seemed so vibrant, so full of life just a moment ago, now feel like a cruel reminder of everything you could never have.
—
When you eventually return to your room, all you can do is lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling as your encounter with Logan on the roof replays in your mind on an endless loop, each harsh word he’d thrown at you cutting deeper than the last. It’s causes pain unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, pain that seems to have no end, no respite.
If he doesn’t want you in his life, you’ll accept that. You have to - it’s not like you have a choice. Soulmates are a two-way street.
You can’t force him to feel something he doesn’t, can’t make him see you in a way he clearly never will. And you understand, don’t you? You can’t even imagine how difficult this would be for him. Losing your soulmate, and then the universe saying Fuck You and giving you another?
You’ll never ever forget how wrecked he was when Jean died. How her death shattered him into pieces so small you weren’t–no–you’re still not sure he’ll ever be whole again.
And you—where do you stand in the grand scheme of things? Just as the unfortunate recipient of a bond that neither of you asked for? Are you even allowed to be upset about this?
—
Waking up the next morning, you honestly wish you hadn’t. You knew you weren’t on good terms with Logan after his little rooftop showcase of emotions, but nothing could have prepared you for the way he starts to treat you.
His face is stuck in a perpetual scowl when you’re in his vicinity. He’s leaving every room the moment you enter, refusing to look at you, speak to you, or acknowledge your presence in any way. It’s as if you’ve become invisible, a ghost haunting the same halls you once shared with him. There’s only one thing you two seem to wordlessly agree on: don’t tell anyone.
Each day following becomes a struggle, an unbearable test of your strength as you try to make it through without breaking. You begin to avoid Logan as much as he avoids you, but the mansion is only so big, and there are always moments when you catch sight of him in the distance, his broad shoulders hunched, his brooding face glaring daggers in your direction.
It hurts you every time, an unending torture that leaves you stumbling. Still, you bite your tongue and keep moving, pretending you don’t care.
But you do care. You care more than you want to admit, more than you think is possible. Because despite everything—despite the rejection, the coldness, the anger—you still love him.
And that’s the cruelest twist of all.
So you endure it, day after day, week after week, month after month. Letting it tear you apart piece by piece, because what else can you do? You carry this burden alone, just as you’ve carried your feelings for him all these years. And maybe one day, the pain will fade, the bond will weaken, and you’ll be able to move on.
—
The only person you tell is Charles.
“What’s on your mind, my child?” he asks one day, while you’re sweeping the dust in his office.
You hesitate, your gaze dropping to your hands as you focus on cleaning. You know he’s just asking out of courtesy, and that he could easily crawl into your mind and figure it out himself. He probably wouldn’t even need to put in that much effort, given how loud your thoughts are. But still, you don’t yield to his probing.
“Nothing, really,” you mutter, forcing a small smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “Just… tired, I guess.”
Charles watches you carefully, his eyes full of the warmth and compassion he always has, but this time, it makes you feel uncomfortable. Like he can see right through the facade you’re trying so hard to maintain, which you have no doubt, he does.
“I’m here to help, whatever the burden.”
You want to groan. It’s not like he’s doing it on purpose but damn does it feel like he’s trying to guilt you into confessing that you just recently had your heart shattered.
“I know, Professor. But… it’s nothing you need to worry about.”
“You forget, I worry about all of you,” he replies gently. “It’s in my nature.”
The chuckle that crawls out your throat is nothing short of bitter. “It’s just… complicated.”
“Complicated doesn’t mean you have to face it alone.”
You bite your lip, trying to keep the emotions at bay. Do you really want to explain to him the insurmountable suffering you’re in, the rejection you faced from the one person who is supposed to be your soulmate? How can you tell him that the bond the universe forged is the very thing tearing you apart?
“It’s just… I don’t know how to make sense of it, Professor,” you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Everything’s so… wrong.”
He leans forward slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. “Wrong how?”
Knowing that you’re teetering into confession territory, you hesitate, needing time to collect your thoughts.
“Logan… he… we… It’s not supposed to be like this, is it?” you eventually get out. Not your best work, but you know he’d get the gist.
Understanding dawns in Charles’s eyes, and you can see the sympathy there, the quiet acceptance of the truth you’re struggling to voice. “The bond you share… it’s more than you expected, isn’t it?”
You nod, feeling the tears well up again. “But he doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want me.”
The professor sighs softly, and he looks at you like you’re a lost puppy. “Logan has been through so much, more than most could bear. His heart has been wounded in ways that are difficult to heal, and it’s not surprising that he would resist this new connection.”
“So why me?” you ask. “Why bind me to someone who will never love me?”
Leaning back in his chair, his fingers steepled thoughtfully, he says, “I wish I had an answer for you, my dear. The universe works in mysterious ways, ways that often defy our understanding. But I do know this: the bond you share is there for a reason. Whether it’s meant to bring you closer or to teach you something important… that remains to be seen.”
“It feels like a punishment,” you whisper, the tears finally spilling over. As much as you hate being put on the hot seat, you can admit that it feels good talking to someone about it. “Every day, it hurts more. And he won’t even look at me. I don’t know how to make it stop.”
“The heartache you’re feeling is profound, but you must understand that it’s not your fault. Logan’s reaction isn’t a reflection of your worth, but of his own pain and fear.”
He reaches out, placing a comforting hand on your own before continuing.
“To love, even when it’s not returned, takes incredible courage. But you must also take care of yourself. Give Logan the space he needs, and in the meantime, allow yourself the grace to heal.”
So you do. In the days that follow your conversation with Charles, you make a promise to yourself—to try, really try, to focus on your own life, to reclaim the parts of yourself that have been overshadowed by the pain of this unrequited love.
The colours are still there, vivid and vibrant, and though they sometimes feel like a bittersweet reminder of what could never be, you find moments where they bring you joy. You marvel at the deep blue of the sky, the rich greens of the trees, the way the sunlight filters through the leaves and paints the world in golden hues. It’s like seeing the world anew, and in those moments, you allow yourself to feel happiness.
Moreover, you busy yourself, volunteering for every assignment that comes your way. The adrenaline, the focus, the purpose—they all help to drown out the pain, even if only temporarily. And when you return from each mission, tired but satisfied, you feel a little more like yourself again.
The mansion, too, becomes less of a prison and more of a home once more. You start spending more time with the others, rejoining them for meals, for training sessions, for movie nights.
You laugh with Rogue, spar with Scott, and even find yourself engaging in playful banter with Remy. It’s not perfect, and there are still moments where you catch yourself faltering, when the weight of everything threatens to pull you under, but those moments are becoming fewer and farther between.
You’re healing, slowly but surely, and with each passing day, you feel a little stronger, a little more in control of your life—of your emotions.
But then there are the times when you cross paths with Logan, and those moments are the hardest.
One evening, after returning from a particularly grueling mission, you find yourself heading toward the kitchen, your mind on the sandwich you plan to make. The place is quiet, most of the team out on various assignments, or finishing up on some work, and you relish the peace as you walk down the corridor.
However, just as you reach the kitchen door and push it open, you find Logan standing there, preparing to exit the room at the exact same moment. Your heart lurches, and you stop dead in your tracks, almost like a deer caught in headlights.
His gaze meets yours, and all you can see is his impassive, stoic expression. He steps back, giving you space to enter, but the tension between you is palpable.
“Sorry,” you mumble, stepping to the side, trying to make yourself as small as possible.
Logan doesn’t say anything, barely nodding—if you could even it that— before brushing past you, his shoulder grazing yours. The brief contact sends a jolt through your system, and you have to force yourself to stay still and not physically react.
Once he leaves, you let out a shaky breath, your heart still racing from the encounter. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close to him—so long since you’ve seen the deep brown of his hair that you love so much. You hate this.
Why does he have no reaction to at all? Why is it only you who seems to care?
Because you are the only one who does care.
You move into the kitchen, still intent on eating, but it’s a challenge. Your hands are trembling.
—
It all comes to a head one night during dinner. In this rare occasion, both you and Logan are in the same room. You’re supposed to be celebrating Rogue and Gambit’s anniversary, and even though you insisted that they share this special moment together alone, they didn’t take no for an answer.
That’s how you find yourself, sitting at the grand dining table with all your friends, and Logan.
He’s across from you. Just your luck.
He refuses to spare you a single glance, his eyes staying busy the whole night. And while it’s been months and months of this, you have never gotten used to it. Still, you can’t help but sneak a few looks at that chocolate-coloured hair. Brown.
Everything seems to be going smoothly, the food is delicious and the dessert even better, but when Gambit presents Rogue with a giant painting, that’s when you slip up.
“I love how you blended the red with the blue!” You compliment, loving the way he managed to create the perfect contrast between shades. You’re too caught up in staring at the artwork to realize the table as gone deathly quiet, all eyes on you.
Rogue's expression is one of gentle confusion, her head tilted slightly as she tries to make sense of your words. “Darling, I thought you couldn’t see colour?”
In any other situation, you’re sure the team would have laughed at how comically large your eyes got, and how all the blood draining from your face makes you look like a gaping fish, but in this moment, nothing is funny. You can feel Logan’s eyes on you, and when you finally muster the courage to glance at him, you see that his all-too familiar glare you’ve been subject to for the last half-year. It makes your heart thud painfully in your chest
“I…” you begin, but you falter. Your mind is going through a thousand thoughts per minute, searching for an excuse you can use to deflect, to pretend it was just a mistake, but the silence is too heavy, too demanding.
Rogue’s confusion deepens, her gaze flickering between you and Logan, who is now staring at you with an expression that’s impossible to read. She starts to say something, but Remy gently places a hand on her arm, shaking his head slightly as if to tell her to let you speak.
Logan’s gaze stays locked on you for a moment longer. Then, without a word, he pushes his chair back, the legs scraping harshly against the floor. The sound echoes in the silence, and before you can react, he stands up and walks out of the room, his movements stiff, almost mechanical.
The door closes behind him with a quiet click, and the tension in the room thickens. You feel a rush of embarrassment flood through you, your heart sinking as the reality of what just happened crashes over you.
You lower your head, your eyes stinging with tears that you fight desperately to hold back. But it’s no use. The emotions you’ve been trying to keep buried for so long bubble to the surface, and before you can stop yourself, the tears start to fall.
“I think I need a moment,” you manage to whisper, your voice trembling as you stand up from the table. Without waiting for a response, you hastily excuse yourself and head for the door, not before mumbling a quick apology to the couple in which you were there for.
Soon you find yourself outside in the gardens, the nightly breeze hitting your face as you make your way to a secluded bench. You can’t even appreciate the beauty in what you see, because all you feel is the overwhelming sense of failure and sadness that threatens to swallow you whole.
Sitting down heavily on the bench, you bury your face in your hands and let go. The sobs come hard and fast, each one ripping through you with a force that leaves you breathless. You’re heartbroken and angry and absolutely over it, but at the same time you feel like a massive asshole because who are you to be upset with a man who’s mourning the loss of a soulmate?
It’s not fair.
You don’t know how long you sit there, lost in your grief, but eventually, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching. You look up, wiping at your eyes, and see Scott walking toward you.
“Mind if I join you?” he asks gently.
You shake your head, unable to find your voice, and Scott sits down beside you on the bench.
“I’m sorry,” you croak, “I didn’t mean to ruin the night.”
Scott clicks his tongue in disagreement, his gaze focused on the gardens ahead. “You didn’t ruin anything. It’s clear you’ve been carrying this burden for a long time. It’s no wonder it slipped out tonight.”
“So everyone knows now?” you ask. He nods.
“It wasn’t hard to put two and two together,” he concludes, and you groan, bringing your hands to your face.
“I just… I didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t want to be pitied.”
“Pity isn’t what anyone feels right now,” Scott says softly. “We’re worried about you. You’ve been hurting, and we didn’t see it. That’s on us.”
“It’s not your fault,” you bring your hands down from your face. “I’ve been trying to deal with it on my own. I thought I could handle it, but… clearly I was wrong”
With a serious expression, Scott turns to look at you. “I know what you’re going through, more than you might realize.”
You glance at him, surprised by his words. “You do?”
He nods, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I was in love with Jean, remember? When her and Logan found out they were soulmates… it tore me apart. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to move on, and for a long time, I couldn’t.”
The mention of Jean’s name brings a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you, but there’s also a strange comfort in knowing that Scott understands your pain. “How did you… how did you get through it?”
He sighs, “It wasn’t easy. It took a long time, and I had to accept it.”
You wipe at your eyes again, sniffling as you try to compose yourself. “I’ve been thinking about leaving for a while. Taking a longer mission, just to get away for a bit. Maybe then I can figure out how to move on.”
He is quiet for a moment, considering your words. “If that’s what you need to do, I understand,” he says, “sometimes, a change of scenery can help. Though I think you should try to talk to Logan again.”
Letting out a bitter laugh, you shake your head. “I don’t know if he’ll even listen to me. He’s made it pretty clear how he feels.”
“He’s hurting too,” He decides, “He’s not handling it well, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. You both need closure, and running away won’t give you that.”
“What if it just makes things worse?”
“It might.” Scott places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “But it might also give you both the chance to start healing. You deserve that chance.”
You nod slowly, letting the weight of his words sink in. “I’ll… I’ll think about it.”
“Take the time you need,” he says. “We’re all here for you.”
“Thanks, Scott. That means a lot.” You offer him a small, grateful smile.
With a final nod, he turns and walks back toward the mansion, leaving you once again alone in the quiet of the gardens. You take a deep breath, the idea of leaving still tugs at you, but now, there’s also the thought of confronting Logan—of finding some kind of closure, whatever that might mean.
You really don’t want to do it, and you’re pretty sure it’s just going to end the same way it did last time - with him shutting you out. But Scott’s words echo in your mind, reminding you that healing often requires confrontation, not avoidance.
Goddamn it.
You huff as you stand up from where you’re seated. You can’t keep running from this, can’t keep letting him run from this. You need to talk to Logan, to lay everything out on the table, even if it tears you apart in the process.
Your anxiety builds with each step as you approach his room, and you pause outside his door, your heart pounding so loudly you’re sure he could hear it if he was listening. This is it. There’s no turning back now. With a shaky breath, you finally raise your hand and knock.
There’s a long, agonizing pause, making you strain to hear any movement on the other side. For a second, the silence causes you think he might not answer, that he might just ignore you like he’s done so many times before. But then, you hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching the door. Your heart catches in your throat as it slowly opens, revealing Logan standing there, his expression hard and unreadable.
The moment he realizes it’s you, his eyes darken, and he immediately moves to close the door, shutting you out yet again. However, you’re not letting him get away that easily. Before the door can fully close, you stick your foot out, blocking it with more force than you intended.
“C’mon, Logan,” you press. “You know we need to talk.”
He freezes, his grip on the door tightening until his knuckles turn white. His jaw clenches and unclenches, nostrils flaring. He still doesn’t look at you, his gaze fixed on some distant point as if he can will you away if he tries hard enough. But he doesn’t push the door shut either. The room is thick with suspense, both of you standing there in a silent standoff.
Finally, with a low growl of frustration, Logan steps back, opening the door just a smidge wider, barely enough for you to squeeze through. It’s a reluctant invitation, but it’s all you need.
“Fine,” he mutters, his voice rough, edged with irritation. “Talk.”
You step into the room, and he closes the door behind you, lingering close to it, as if he’s ready to bolt at any second. You feel vulnerable and exposed. It’s suddenly hard to gather your thoughts when he’s standing so close, when the heat of his presence and the distance he’s placed between is right in your face.
“Why did you come?” Logan questions. He still refuses to look directly at you, his gaze fixed somewhere over your shoulder.
“Because we can’t keep pretending this isn’t happening,” you reply, “We need to talk about what’s going on between us.”
His jaw tightens further, and his teeth grind with barely contained frustration. He finally looks at you, his eyes hard and defensive. “There’s nothing to say,” he says bitterly. “I told you how I feel. I thought that was enough.”
“It’s not enough!” you shoot back, your own frustration bubbling to the surface. “You think you can just push me away, pretend like this bond doesn’t exist, and that’s supposed to solve everything? It doesn’t work like that, Logan.”
He flinches slightly at your words, but his keeps his expression hard. “Well what do you want me to say?” he demands, his voice rising. “That I’m sorry? That I didn’t mean to hurt you? Because I am, and I didn’t. But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t be what you want me to be.”
His words hurt.
“I know you told me how you feel,” you start, “but you’ve never let me tell you how I feel. You’ve never given me the chance to say that it’s been tearing me apart.”
A flash of guilt. “I didn’t think… I didn’t think you needed to say it. I already knew.”
“That isn’t fair,” you argue.
“You don’t understand,” he counters, “I lost Jean. I loved her, and when she died, it broke something in me. And now… now I’m supposed to just… move on? With you? It’s not that simple.”
“I never asked you to love me, Logan,” you say, your voice trembling with the intensity of your emotions. “I never pushed for anything more than friendship—it’s not like you gave me the chance! You’ve been shutting me out, ignoring me, making me feel like I’m nothing more than a burden, like I don’t even matter!”
You can see that the pain in your voice hitting him hard, but he doesn’t apologize. Instead, he looks away, his expression conflicted. “I’m trying to protect you,” he mutters, the words sounding hollow even to him
“Protect me?” you echo incredulously. “All you’re doing is make me feel like shit. Like I’m worthless. I can’t even be your friend, to help you through this.”
You pause. “You expect us all to know how you’re feeling, but you can’t even communicate it.”
Logan winces, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, filled with a torment you’ve never seen before. He opens his mouth to say something, but the words seem to get caught in his throat. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he breaks the silence, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I can’t be what you want me to be,” he admits, his tone filled with a deep, aching sadness. “I don’t know how to let you in. Without her, I feel like… I can’t let anyone in.”
Your eyes soften a fraction his confession, but there’s also a deep frustration that burns inside you, a frustration born of months of pain and rejection.
“You haven’t even tried,” you say softly with a quiet resignation, “You haven’t even tried to let me in, to see what we could have been, even if it was just as friends.”
What follows is a long, nagging silence. You let it linger, giving Logan the chance he needs to think of something to say. But there’s no answer, no promise that things will change, and then you realize, with a sinking feeling, that he’s not going to take that step, too broken to try.
That’s when it really hits you.
Whatever you were fighting for, was a losing battle from the start.
You give up.
This time, it is you who turns your back on him.
“Goodbye, Logan. Take care of yourself.”
You don’t wait for a response. You don’t glance back. You walk out of the room, the door closing softly behind you, and with it, the last remnants of hope you had for something more.
—
You decide to go on the mission.
It’s nothing complicated. Your task is to survey different regions of Europe, ensuring that there are no burgeoning anti-mutant operations threatening the safety of anyone. The primary goal is gathering information, and quiet observation. No violence, Charles told you in the debrief.
The lack of immediate danger doesn’t make leaving any easier, though. This is as much about finding yourself as it is about fulfilling your duty.
Rogue and Kitty are with you during your final preparations, helping you pack the essentials and offering support in their own ways. They don’t ask many questions, probably sensing that this decision was not just made on a whim. And for that, you’re grateful.
“I still think you’re crazy for going solo,” Rogue says with a half-smile as she zips up your bag. “But if anyone can handle it, it’s you.”
You manage a small smile in return. “Thanks, Rogue. I just need some time…”
Kitty, who’s been quietly folding clothes and tucking them into your bag, looks up, seriousness clouding her gaze. “We get it. Just promise you’ll keep in touch, okay? And don’t hesitate to call if you need backup.”
“I promise,” you assure.
She hesitates for a moment before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small device—the X-Men communicator gadget. She holds it out to you, and you reach your hand out.
“Here,” she says softly, pressing the device into your hand. “This is so you can update us on your whereabouts, your status, or any important mission details. Even if you don’t need anything, just… let us know you’re okay, alright?”
You look down at the communicator in your hand, and close your fingers around it, nodding as you meet Kitty’s gaze.
“Alright, I’ll check in regularly. I won’t leave you guys in the dark.”
Rogue finishes the last bit of organization. “You’ve got this,” she says, “And we’ve got your back, even from a distance.” You nod, appreciating their support more than you can express.
It almost feels like a walk of shame—leaving the mansion. Everyone knows why too, and that makes it a thousand times worse. But you won’t let it get to you. With one last look, you get in your car and begin on the windy path to the airport.
—
When you arrive in Europe, the first thing that strikes you is the sheer beauty of the landscape. Each city, each town, has its own unique charm, its own story to tell. The bustling uphill streets of Porto, the serene canals of Venice, the ancient ruins of Athens—they all offer a distraction from the turmoil inside you.
The only good part about this whole mess is that you can see colour, and truly appreciate the sights before you.
You move from one place to the next, blending in with the crowds, quietly observing, gathering information, and sending brief updates to the team through the communicator Kitty gave you. Every message is short, to the point, just enough to let them know you’re safe and on track. You don’t share much beyond the essentials, not wanting to burden them with your personal struggles.
Then, in a small café in Rome, you meet a man named Marco. He’s a traveler like you, exploring Europe with a curiosity that matches your own. He’s warm, easygoing, and before long, the two of you strike up a conversation over coffee.
He is charming in a way that makes you feel at ease, his laughter infectious as he shares stories of his travels. You don’t tell him much about yourself, keeping the details of your mission and your mutant abilities hidden. To him, you’re just another traveler, searching for something—though he doesn’t pry into what that something is.
As the days pass, you and Marco continue to cross paths, and it’s nice to have someone to talk to, someone who doesn’t know about your past, about the things you’re running from. With him, you can be anyone, and for the first time in a long while, you start to feel a little lighter. You find yourself laughing more, the weight on your chest lifting a little each day. You don’t talk about the mission, and you certainly don’t talk about Logan.
One evening, as you’re both sitting on the steps of the Spanish Steps in Rome, watching the sunset, he turns to you with a grin. “So, where are you off to next?”
You hesitate, not wanting to reveal too much, but then you smile. “I’m heading to Florence. There are some places I need to check out.”
His eyes light up. “Florence? I’ve been meaning to re-visit. Mind if I tag along?”
A part of you wants to say no, to keep the distance you’ve carefully maintained, but another part—the part that’s been lonely for so long—nods in agreement. “Sure, why not?”
—
Back at the mansion, things haven’t been as positive. The once lively atmosphere has dimmed, replaced by an uneasy tension that lingers in the halls. The X-Men carry on with their duties, but there’s a noticeable shift—a missing piece that everyone feels but no one talks about. Logan, in particular, has become even more withdrawn, if that’s possible. The man who was once brooding and distant now seems even more so, his mood volatile and unpredictable.
His behavior has become a source of concern for the team. He’s always been rough around the edges, but now, it’s like the slightest thing can set him off. He snaps at everyone, his temper flaring at the smallest provocation. On missions, he’s reckless, throwing himself into danger without a second thought, as if he’s trying to outrun something—or someone.
In many evenings, Logan finds himself in the mansion’s gym, trying to work off the restless energy that’s been plaguing him for months. The room is always empty, save for him, the steady rhythm of his fists pounding against the punching bag being the only sound. Sweat drips down his face, his muscles straining as he channels all his frustration and anger into each punch. Yet, no matter how hard he hits, he can’t seem to shake the thoughts of you that have been haunting him.
This night, door to the gym creaks open, and Logan doesn’t need to look up to know who it is. He can sense the other man’s presence, feel the weight of his gaze as he steps inside. He doesn’t slow his punches, doesn’t acknowledge Scott’s presence, but he knows why he’s here. They’ve had this conversation before—or something like it—but nothing’s changed. Nothing’s gotten better.
Scott watches him for a moment, his expression unreadable. He’s been watching Logan spiral for weeks now, but he’s kept his distance, knowing that he’d only be pushed away. But this can’t go on—Logan can’t keep doing this, can’t keep tearing himself apart over something he refuses to confront.
“She wouldn’t want this,” he finally says, voice cutting through the steady thud of Logan’s fists against the bag.
Logan’s movements falter for just a second before he resumes, his jaw tightening. “Who?” he growls, not bothering to turn around. “Her or Jean?”
Scott doesn’t flinch at the harshness in the other man’s tone. He steps closer, his eyes steady on their target as he answers, “Both.”
Finally, Logan stops. His fists still as he leans against the bag, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His shoulders are tense, the weight of Scott’s words pressing down on him like a physical burden. He doesn’t want to hear this, doesn’t want to be reminded of what he’s lost—of who he’s lost.
Taking a step closer, Scott’s voice is firm. “Look, I’m not a spiritual person. But I also don’t think the universe messed up with this.”
Clenching, his fists, Logan knows what the other man is getting at, but he doesn’t want to acknowledge it. Doesn’t want to think about what could have been, what he’s been too scared to even consider.
“I know you know how I felt about Jean,” Scott says quietly, knowing he’s breaching a sensitive subject. “Losing her… it killed me too. And if I had been given a chance—a real chance to be with her, to make things right—I would have taken it. No hesitation.”
Logan’s breath hitches at that. The truth is, he’s been running—running from you, from the bond you share, from the possibility of something real.
“I’m not saying you should chase after her,” he continues. “But I am saying that you need to stop running from her. The universe doesn’t just throw things like this at us for no reason. And you know that.”
The weight of Scott’s words settle over Logan like a shroud. He knows the other man is right—deep down, he’s always known. But that doesn’t make it any easier. The fear, the guilt, the pain of losing Jean—it’s all still there, gnawing at him, holding him back.
There’s something else too, something he’s been trying to ignore but can’t any longer: the way he feels about you, the way he’s always felt, even if he couldn’t admit it to himself. One of the first thought’s that ran through his head when his world re-erupted into colour was that, had this happened before Jean, maybe it could have worked. Maybe he could have been what you wanted, felt something real.
Scott takes a step back, giving Logan the space he needs. “Just think about it,” he says softly. “Think about what you really want. And don’t wait until it’s too late to figure it out.”
Logan doesn’t respond, but Scott doesn’t need him to. He’s said what he needed to say, and now it’s up to him to decide what comes next. With a final look, Scott turns and leaves the gym, the door closing softly behind him.
The clawed mutant stands there for a long time, his fists still clenched, his mind racing. He knows he can’t keep doing this—can’t keep tearing himself apart over something he can’t change, something he’s too afraid to confront.
But change is terrifying, especially when it means facing the truth. The truth that maybe, just maybe, the bond he shares with you is something worth fighting for. Something that Jean wouldn’t want him to throw away.
With a deep, shuddering breath, Logan finally lets his fists unclench, the tension in his body slowly ebbing away. He doesn’t have all the answers—hell, he barely knows where to start—but he knows one thing for sure: he's can’t run away anymore. Not from this, not from you.
—
You’ve now spent days in Florence, wandering through the Uffizi Gallery, marveling at the works of the Renaissance masters, and evenings enjoying the quiet serenity of the Arno River. With you, Marco. You’ve grown to trust him. He’s never made you uncomfortable, never had any intentions to take advantage of you, and knows all the best restaurants.
But there’s always been a small, nagging doubt that you’ve pushed aside—a feeling that something isn’t quite right. You’ve ignored it, convincing yourself that you’re just being paranoid after everything you’ve been through. After all, he has been nothing but kind, always knowing the right thing to say, always showing up just when you need someone.
It isn’t until the two of you are exploring a quieter part of Florence, that the doubt flares into something more. You’re walking through an old, narrow alleyway, the kind that tourists rarely venture into, when Marco suggests you take a shortcut through a small, unmarked door in the side of a building.
“I found this place the last time I was here,” Marco says, his smile as easy as ever. “It’s a hidden gem, leads right to a beautiful courtyard. You’ll love it.”
You hesitate, something in his tone—or maybe it’s the way his eyes gleam just a little too brightly—sets off alarm bells in your mind. You’ve come to trust him though, haven’t you? You’ve traveled together for weeks, shared countless stories and laughs. Surely, he wouldn’t lead you into danger.
Still, as you step through the door, the darkened space beyond immediately feels wrong. The air is colder, damp, and the walls are lined with strange, unidentifiable equipment. You glance back at Marco, and that’s when you see it—the change in his expression. The warmth is gone, replaced by something cold and calculating.
Before you can react, you feel a sharp prick in your arm. Your vision blurs, and your body goes numb almost instantly. You stumble back, trying to push away, but your legs give out, and you collapse to the floor.
Marco looms over you, the smile gone from his face, replaced by a look of triumph. “Did you really think I didn’t know?” he sneers, his voice dripping with disdain. “You’re a mutant, and you thought you could hide it from me?”
The world around you spins as the drug takes full effect, but you force your mind to stay focused. “What… why?” you manage to whisper, the betrayal cutting deep.
“Why?” He laughs, the sound harsh and devoid of any warmth. “Because mutants like you are worth a fortune. My clients pay top dollar for… research subjects. And you, my dear, are about to make me very, very rich.”
You try to move, to fight back, but your body refuses to respond. Panic rises in your chest as he kneels beside you, pulling out a small device that looks like a portable scanner. He runs it over you, and it emits a low hum as it registers your vital signs, confirming what he already knows. You’re weak.
“You won’t get away with this,” you say.
“Oh, but I already have,” he replies with cruel satisfaction. “No one knows where you are. And even if they did, it’ll be too late by the time they find you.”
With the last bit of strength you can muster, you reach into your pocket, fingers trembling as you fumble with the X-Men communicator that Kitty gave you. His attention is momentarily distracted as he prepares a syringe filled with a clear liquid, and you seize the opportunity. You manage to pull out the communicator, your fingers barely able to grip it. Then, with a deep breath, you press the SOS button, the screen flashing to life.
You type in the message as quickly as you can, your vision blurring even more as the drug takes hold.
Location: Florence.
Message: Help.
Just as you hit send, Marco notices what you’re doing. His eyes widen in anger, and he grabs your wrist, yanking the communicator out of your hand. “You little—!” he snarls, but it’s too late. The message has already been sent.
His face contorts in rage as he slams the gadget against the ground, smashing it to pieces. He glares down at you, his hand tightening painfully around your wrist. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? But it doesn’t matter. They’ll never get here in time.”
Your strength is nearly gone, the drug pulling you into unconsciousness, but you manage one last defiant look. “You won’t win,” you whisper with the last of your energy.
Marco releases your wrist with a sneer, standing up and looking down at you with contempt again. “We’ll see about that,” he mutters before turning away, leaving you on the cold, hard floor as darkness overtakes you.
You can only hope they—that Logan—will reach you in time.
—
The signal comes through during a meeting. A sudden, loud beep cuts through the room, and everyone freezes, their attention immediately drawn to the source of the sound. To Kitty’s pocket. It’s the X-Men communicator, the one linked to your device.
Logan’s head snaps up, his eyes narrowing as he recognizes the tone. He’s on his feet before anyone else can react, his heart pounding in his chest. “What the hell was that?” he demands, his voice tense with urgency.
Kitty quickly pulls it out of her pocket, her eyes widening as she reads the message that’s flashed across the screen. Her face pales, and she looks up at the others, her voice trembling as she speaks. “It’s from her… Florence… Help.”
There’s a brief pause, maybe a second long in length, and then the room erupts into a flurry of movement.
Chairs scrape against the floor as the team rises to their feet, already preparing for action. But Logan is the first to react, his face a mask of fury and determination. “I’m going,” he growls, already heading for the door.
“Logan, wait!” Scott steps forward, blocking Logan’s path with a firm hand on his chest.
“Get out of my way, Summers,” He snarls, his voice filled with barely controlled rage. “I’m not waiting around while she’s in danger.”
“We can’t just rush in without a plan,” Scott insists, trying to keep his own emotions in check. “We need to know what we’re dealing with.”
Logan shoves the other mutant’s hand away, his eyes blazing with anger. “She sent an SOS, Scott! She needs help, and we’re wasting time standing here talking about it!”
The rest of the team watches the confrontation with anxious eyes, knowing that things could easily escalate. Logan’s been on edge for weeks, and the urgency of the situation—of you— has pushed him to the brink.
“Logan,” Ororo interjects, “We understand how you feel, but we need to think this through. If this is a trap—”
“I don’t give a damn if it’s a trap!” He snaps, his voice rising. “She’s part of our team! We can’t just leave her there!”
“That’s not what we’re saying,” Scott tries to reason, but Logan isn’t having it.
“Then what the hell are you sayin’?” He demands, his frustration boiling over. “Why are we wasting time when we should be getting her out of there?”
There’s a brief, uncomfortable silence, and then it’s Rogue who steps forward, conflicted. “Logan… what if… what if she doesn’t want to see you?”
He freezes, the words hitting him harder than any physical blow could. He stares at Rogue, disbelief and anger warring in his eyes. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he growls.
Rogue swallows, her eyes filled with worry. “She left because she needed time, Logan. Because things between you two… they weren’t good. Maybe she—maybe she doesn’t want you to be the one to save her.”
Clenching his hands into fists, his body is taut with tension. “Fuck that!” he roars with a fierce, protective rage. “She’s part of our team! She sent that message to us, to the X-Men, because she needs our help. I don’t care what’s happened between us, I’m not leavin’ her there!”
The room falls silent, the weight of Logan’s words settling over everyone. They know Logan is right—she’s part of the team, and they can’t leave her behind. But they also know that the situation is more complicated than that.
Scott takes a deep breath, his gaze steady as he looks at Logan. “We’re not saying we shouldn’t go after her, Logan. We’re saying that you need to be prepared for whatever we might find when we get there. She might be in a bad place, and she might not be ready to face you.”
“I don’t care,” he says after a brief pause, his voice quieter now, but no less determined. “I’m going to get her out of there. Whether she wants to see me or not, I’m not lettin’ her go through this alone.”
Scott studies Logan for a long moment, then finally nods. “Alright. But we do this together, as a team.”
Logan nods, his jaw set in a grim line. “Fine. Let’s go.”
—
Your eyes snap open, the dim light of the room piercing your vision. You’re in a large, abandoned warehouse. Your head feels heavy, like it’s filled with cotton, and there’s a dull, throbbing pain at the base of your skull. As you try to move, you realize with a jolt of fear that you’re restrained, your arms and legs strapped tightly to a chair. Panic flares in your chest, and you struggle against the bonds, but they don’t budge.
And then you see him—Marco, standing a few feet away, watching you with a smirk that sends a chill down your spine. His eyes gleam with satisfaction, and you realize with horror that you’ve been caught, trapped in whatever twisted game he’s been playing.
“Ah, you’re awake,” he says, voice dripping with mock concern. “I was starting to wonder if I’d given you too much of the sedative. But it seems you’re tougher than I thought.”
You try to respond, but a gag in your mouth muffles your words, turning them into incoherent sounds. You glare at him your eyes burning with fury.
He only chuckles, clearly amused by your resistance. “Oh, don’t bother trying to speak. We wouldn’t want you calling for help, now would we? Though, I must say, I’m impressed you managed to send that little SOS before I caught on. Clever, but ultimately futile.”
He steps closer, his eyes narrowing as he looks you over, his expression turning cold. “You know, I’ve dealt with a lot of mutants in my time, but there’s something special about you. Something… unique.” He reaches out and grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Too bad your powers won’t do you any good here. The drug I gave you should keep you nice and powerless for the foreseeable future.”
Straining against the bonds, you continue to try to break free, but he drug in your system dulls your abilities, leaving you feeling weak and vulnerable. All you can do is stare at him with hatred as he continues to taunt you.
“Such fire in your eyes,” Marco murmurs, almost to himself. “It’s a shame you’ll never see the light of day again. But don’t worry—I’ll make sure your abilities are put to good use.”
He lets go of your chin, his hand trailing down to your shoulder in a way that makes your skin crawl. “Now, let’s see what we can do to make you a little more… compliant.”
Just as he reaches into his coat pocket, presumably for another syringe, a sudden, loud crash echoes through the warehouse. The sound of splintering wood and shattering glass fills the air, followed by the unmistakable hum of energy blasts and the heavy thud of boots on the concrete floor.
The X-Men have arrived.
Marco’s eyes widen in surprise and then narrow in anger. He spins around, barking orders at the security guards scattered throughout the warehouse. “Stop them! Don’t let them get near her!”
The guards rush forward, weapons drawn, but they’re no match for your friends. The familiar sounds of battle flood your ears—Rogue’s powerful punches, Scott’s optic blasts, and Storm’s lightning crackling through the air. You struggle against your restraints again, desperate to free yourself, but it’s no use.
Then, you catch a glimpse of Logan. He’s fighting his way toward you, his claws out, slicing through anyone who gets in his way. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, your eyes meet his, and you can see the raw determination in his gaze. He’s coming for you.
But just as he takes a step forward, something changes. He hesitates. You can’t hear what he’s thinking, but you can see the conflict on his face—the way he seems to second-guess himself, the way his steps falter. Your heart sinks as you realize he’s unsure, almost as if he's torn between wanting to save you and fearing that you don’t want him to.
In that split second of hesitation, Rogue swoops in, landing beside you with a determined look on her face. She doesn’t waste any time, using her strength to tear through the restraints that bind you. “We’ve got you, sugah,” she says, her voice steady and reassuring as she pulls the gag from your mouth. “You’re safe now.”
You nod, your throat too dry and your body too weak to speak. Your muscles scream in protest as you try to stand, but she quickly wraps an arm around you, helping you to your feet. You’re shaky, your body still reeling from the effects of the drug, but you’re free. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Logan still standing there, his eyes locked on you, his expression unreadable. He wanted to save you. He wanted to be the one to pull you out of that nightmare, but something held him back.
Rogue helps you toward the exit as the rest of the team continues to subdue the guards and Marco. You lean heavily on her, your legs barely able to support your weight, but you force yourself to keep moving.
And when everyone else has back in the jet, hugging you and comforting you, you look over to Logan, who sits far away, on the opposite side, refusing to meet your gaze.
—
Returning to the mansion feels like stepping back into a familiar, comforting embrace. You missed the soft, warm bed in your room, the quiet serenity of the gardens, and the comforting presence of your friends. It's been a few days since the whole ordeal in Florence, and the drug has finally worked its way out of your system. Your strength has returned, and physically, you feel like yourself again. The mansion, too, seems unchanged—still the safe haven you’ve always known.
But as the days pass, you begin to notice that while many things have returned to normal, some things have not. You’ve seen most of your friends, their faces lighting up when they see you, their hugs tight and full of relief. There have been quiet conversations and laughter, shared meals in the kitchen, and moments that remind you why this place is home.
Except, there’s one person you haven’t seen. Logan.
His absence is like a shadow that follows you wherever you go. You’ve felt his presence in the mansion—heard his voice in the halls, the sound of his footsteps on the floorboards—but he’s kept his distance. He hasn’t sought you out, hasn’t tried to talk to you, and that stings more than you want to admit.
You’ve tried to stay strong, to remind yourself of the resilience you found during your time away. You’ve reminded yourself over and over that you don’t need anyone else to validate your worth, that you can stand on your own. Yet the longer Logan avoids you, the harder it is to hold on to that strength. The old wounds, the ones you thought had begun to heal, start to ache again, and you can’t help but wonder if anything has really changed at all.
More often than not, you find yourself retreating to the front lawn. The sun is warm on your skin as you lie down in the grass, a book in hand. The soft rustling of leaves in the breeze and the distant hum of life inside the mansion create a peaceful background, and for a moment, you manage to lose yourself in the pages of your book.
Still, even here, in the sanctuary of the garden, the thoughts you’ve been trying to push aside keep creeping back in. The memory of Florence, of Logan’s hesitation, lingers like a bitter aftertaste. You replay the moment over and over in your mind, trying to make sense of it, trying to understand why he stopped, why he didn’t come for you.
You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t notice the shadow that falls across your page until a deep, familiar voice breaks the silence.
“I’m glad you’re alright.”
The voice startles you, and you jerk slightly, looking up to see Logan standing above you. His expression is guarded, as if he’s not sure how you’ll react to his presence. There’s a tautness to his posture, a stiffness that you recognize all too well.
For a moment, you just stare at him, caught off guard by the suddenness of his appearance. He’s as rugged and intimidating as ever, but there’s something different in his eyes—something a tad bit softer. You close your book, sitting up slowly as you meet his gaze. The question that’s been gnawing at you since Florence rises to the surface, and you know you can’t keep it inside any longer.
“What happened?” you ask, your voice steady but filled with quiet intensity. “In Florence?”
His jaw tightens, and he looks away for a moment, his gaze shifting to the trees in the distance. He doesn’t answer immediately, and the silence stretches out between you, thick with unspoken words.
You just watch him, waiting for an explanation, but there’s a part of you that’s already bracing for disappointment. You’ve been here before, waiting for Logan to decide what happens next, to take the lead. And you’re tired of it. You’re tired of being the one left in the dark, of being the one who has to wait for him to be ready.
Finally, he lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as if the weight of the world is pressing down on him. “I… I hesitated,” he admits huskily, almost in a growl. “I wanted to save you. Hell, I was going to. But then… I didn’t know if you wanted me to.”
His confession hangs in the air, and you feel a mix of emotions—surprise, confusion, and sadness. You hadn’t expected this, hadn’t realized that his hesitation was rooted in something so painfully human.
“Why wouldn’t I want you to?” you ask softly, searching his face for answers.
Logan finally looks at you, really looks at you, and the raw emotion in his eyes takes your breath away. “Because of everything that’s happened between us. Because I pushed you away. I hurt you, and I thought… maybe you’d be better off if it wasn’t me.”
You shake your head, trying to make sense of his reasoning. “Logan, this can’t keep being about what you think is best,” you begin. “And it’s not about who saves who. It’s about being there when it counts. You were there. You came for me.”
He doesn’t have a response to that, at least not right away. He looks down at the ground, his fists unclenching, his shoulders slumping even further. It’s like he’s carrying the weight of everything he’s done, everything he’s failed to do, and it’s crushing him.
“I’m sorry,” he finally manages to get out. “For everything.”
You stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest.
“I know I’ve messed up,” he continues. “I know I haven’t been there for you like I should’ve. But I’m here now. And if you’ll let me… I want to try to make things right.”
You know you should be happy—this is everything you’ve wanted to hear from him for so long. But it’s also too much, too late. The doubt, the pain, it can’t just disappear with a snap of your fingers.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” you admit.
There’s pain on his face. “I get it,” he says, his voice rough but steady. “I know I’ve got a lot to make up for. And I know it’s not going to happen overnight. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes, if it means I can earn your trust back.”
“I need time. I need time to figure out where I stand, and where you stand with me.”
He nods slowly, his gaze dropping to the ground again. “Take all the time you need,” he says quietly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I appreciate that,” With a small nod, you stand up, brushing the grass off your clothes. “I need time,” you repeat, more for your own benefit than his.
“And you’ve got it,” Logan replies. “As much as you need.”
—
Days turn into weeks, and weeks into months. You focus on yourself, on healing the wounds that were reopened during your conversation with Logan. It feels strange, being the one who needs space, but you know it’s necessary. You find things to take your mind off him: you train more, read more, spend more time with Rogue, Kitty, or Remy. It’s nice.
But Logan… Logan doesn’t give up. He knows you need time, and he respects that. He doesn’t push, doesn’t pressure you to make a decision, but he makes it clear through his actions that he hasn’t forgotten about you, and more importantly, that he isn’t going anywhere.
It starts with the small things—things so subtle that you almost don’t notice at first. You probably wouldn’t have suspected anything if you hadn’t known the kind of person he is. He’s nothing if not persistent. He knows you better than you realize—the rift he created after Jean’s death muddling with your memory—and he uses that knowledge to quietly, almost imperceptibly, work his way back into your life.
In the mornings, you wake up to find your favorite snacks waiting for you in the kitchen, carefully placed where you’d be sure to see them. He never mentions it, never takes credit, but you know it’s him. It’s in the way he glances at you from the corner of his eye as you take a bite, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He never makes a big deal out of it—just a quiet, unspoken gesture that says, I’m thinking of you.
Then there are the late-night training sessions. You go down to the Danger Room or the gym, hoping to clear your mind with a bit of solitary exercise, only to find Logan already there. At first, you’re tempted to leave, to find somewhere else to work out, but something in his demeanor stops you. He doesn’t approach you, doesn’t speak unless you initiate it. Instead, he just… exists beside you, his presence steady and reassuring, like a rock in the storm.
It’s in these moments that you begin to see a different side of Logan—one that’s patient, understanding, and perhaps a little unsure of himself. He follows your lead, mirroring your exercises or silently spotting you during weightlifting, always attentive to your needs without ever making you feel pressured or overwhelmed. He’s just there, offering his support in the quietest, most understated way possible.
And then there are the little surprises in your room—small, thoughtful gestures that you can’t help but notice. A favorite book you’d mentioned in passing suddenly appears on your nightstand, its pages pristine and waiting for you to dive into. The time-worn leather straps on your gear are suddenly replaced with new ones that fit perfectly, the stitching unmistakably done by Logan’s hand. Even your plants, the ones you’d worried would wither away while you were on a mission, seem to thrive in your absence, the soil freshly watered and the leaves turned toward the sun.
He never asks for thanks, never draws attention to what he’s doing. It’s all done quietly, behind the scenes, as if he’s afraid that if you notice too much, you might push him away. But you do notice. How could you not?
At first, you try to ignore it, telling yourself that these gestures don’t change anything, that they’re just a way for Logan to assuage his guilt. You tell yourself that he’s just doing this because he feels bad, because he wants to make up for the past, not because he actually cares. You’ve built walls around your heart for a reason, and you’re not ready to let them down just because he’s being nice.
But over time, those small gestures begin to chip away at those walls, brick by brick. You start to realize that Logan isn’t just going through the motions—he’s really paying attention, noticing the little things that make you who you are. It isn’t just about the snacks or the books or the plants—it’s about the way he remembers the details of your life, the things that matter to you, the things that make you feel seen and understood.
After a particularly long and stressful day, you return to your room exhausted, and all you want is to collapse into bed and forget the world for a while. But when you walk in, you find a small bouquet of wildflowers sitting on your nightstand, the beautiful colors a stark contrast to the dark thoughts that have been swirling in your mind all day. There’s no note, no explanation—there never is—but you know who left them.
You just stand there, staring at the flowers, your heart squeezing in your chest. It’s such a simple gesture, and yet it means so much. You’d forgotten that Logan knew how much you love wildflowers—you’d mentioned it once, years ago. The way they’re resilient, thriving even in the harshest conditions, blooming where others wouldn’t. It’s as if he’s telling you that he sees that strength in you, that he admires it.
And it’s then, in the quiet of your room, surrounded by the small, thoughtful gestures that Logan has left behind, that you realize something. This isn’t just about making up for the past. Logan is showing you, in the only way he knows how, that he wants this. Wants you.
He's finally picked up the pieces of him that fell apart after Jean’s death, and he is willing to pick up the pieces of you that fell apart after his rejection.
So, one evening, months after that fateful conversation on the lawn, you find yourself standing in the common room, staring at the fireplace, lost in thought. The mansion is quiet, the rest of the team either out on a mission or asleep. It’s just you and the flickering flames, the soft crackling of the fire the only sound in the room.
But when you hear footsteps behind you, heavy and deliberate, you know instantly who it is. Without turning, you can sense his presence, the way he moves with that quiet confidence, the way the air seems to shift when he is near. Logan has always had a way of grounding you, even when you don’t want him to.
He walks up beside you, stopping just short of touching you, his warmth radiating in the small space between your bodies. He doesn’t say anything at first, doesn’t ask why you’re here or try to force a conversation. He just stands there, his hands shoved into his pockets, waiting patiently, giving you the time you need. It’s something you’ve come to appreciate about him in recent months—his newfound ability to just be, without pushing or demanding more than you’re ready to give.
"I’ve been thinking," you say finally, your voice soft, as you continue to gaze into the flames.
"Yeah?" Logan asks, his tone careful, as if he’s afraid of saying the wrong thing.
You turn to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "You’ve been… different. Doing all these little things… I see them, you know."
Logan’s eyes meet yours, and for the first time in a long time, you see hope there. "I just wanted you to know that I care. That I’m sorry," he says, with so much emotion. “You were never a burden to me.”
You swallow hard. "It’s hard for me, Logan," you admit, "I’ve been hurt before, and I’m scared. Scared that if I let myself love you again, you’ll just… break me."
He steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. "I’d never hurt you again," he says, "I’d rather cut off my own damn hand than hurt you. The past is the past, and you are my future."
That’s enough to make your walls crumble completely. You know, deep down, that Logan is telling the truth. That he’s willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust again.
And in that moment, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re ready to let him.
You don’t say anything. Instead, you let your actions speak for you. You close the distance between you, standing on your toes as you press your lips to his in a gentle, tentative kiss. Logan freezes for a split second, as if he can’t believe this is really happening, but then he kisses you back, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close, holding you as if he never wants to let go.
The kiss is slow, tender, full of everything that has been building between you for so long. It isn’t just a kiss—it’s a promise, a commitment to try again, to rebuild what has been broken. When you finally pull back, your breath mingling with his, you rest your head on his shoulder. "I’m still scared," you whisper.
"I know," Logan replies, his arms tightening around you. "But I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll take this slow, darlin’. Whatever you need."
You nod. "Okay."
Logan smiles then, a real, genuine smile that makes your heart flutter in a way it hasn’t in years. It’s a smile full of relief, of gratitude, of love—a smile that tells you that he understands just how much this moment means, just how much you’re giving him by letting him back into your heart.
—
The time that follows is a slow, steady journey of rebuilding trust. Logan is true to his word—he is patient, understanding, and surprisingly tender in ways you hadn’t expected. The small gestures continue—coffee waiting for you in the morning, a gentle hand on your back during missions, quiet moments of companionship where no words are needed.
You can feel the doubts you’ve been holding onto slowly begin to fade. Each time Logan shows up for you, each time he puts your needs above his own, it chips away at the fear that has kept you guarded for so long. It’s in the way he listens when you talk, truly listens, as if every word you say matters. It’s in the way he looks at you—not with the same fury he once had, but with a steady, enduring affection that speaks of something deeper.
With Jean, he loved her because she was his soulmate, she was who the universe destined him to be with. He loved her because that’s what he thought he had to do.
With you, he has a choice. He doesn’t need to acknowledge the bond, but he chooses to. He chooses to everyday and he’ll never stop. He loves you because he wants to, not because he has to.
One evening, you find yourself sitting on the mansion’s porch watching the sunset. Logan joins you without a word, sitting close enough that your shoulders brush.
“You’ve been quiet today,” he says softly, breaking the comfortable silence.
“I’ve just been thinking,” you reply, leaning your head on his shoulder. It’s a simple gesture, but one that speaks volumes about how far you’ve come in trusting him again.
“’Bout what?” he asks, his voice gentle.
“About us,” you say, your voice steady. “About how things have changed. How… how good they’ve been.”
Logan’s hand finds yours, his fingers lacing through yours in a way that feels so natural, so right. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you echo, squeezing his hand. “I’m not scared anymore, Logan. Not like I was.”
He turns to face you, his eyes searching yours. “You sure?”
You nod, smiling softly. “I’m sure. You’ve shown me that this bond means something to you, that you’re not going to hurt me. And… I want this. I want us.”
Logan’s face lights up with so much love, that it takes your breath away. He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “I’m glad, darlin’. Because I want us too. More than anything.”
—
It isn’t long before the rest of the X-Men begin to notice the change in Logan as well. At first, it’s subtle—small things like the way he looks at you during briefings, or the way he seems to be more patient, more relaxed when you’re around. But over time, it becomes impossible to ignore.
During a training session in the Danger Room, you’re paired with Logan for a simulated mission. The others watch as Logan moves with you in perfect sync, his focus not just on the mission but on you—making sure you’re safe, supporting you when needed, and trusting you completely. It’s a far cry from the Logan they had seen when he was in mourning, where his moves were rash and careless.
After the session, as you and Logan leave the Danger Room, you catch sight of Ororo and Scott exchanging a look, the kind of look that speaks volumes, full of surprise and a touch of amusement.
“What?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you approach them.
Ororo smiles warmly, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Nothing, just… noticing how good you two are together.”
Scott nods in agreement, his expression softening as he glances at Logan. “Yeah, it’s… different, finally seeing him like this. In a good way.”
Logan shrugs, but there’s no hiding the small smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth. “What’re you guys talking about?”
“Just that it’s nice to see you happy, Logan,” Ororo says gently. “Really happy.”
Logan looks at you then, his smile growing as he meets your gaze. “Yeah. It is.”
More members of the team begin to notice the change in Logan as time goes on. Rogue, who has always had a soft spot for him, comments on how he seems more at ease, less burdened by the weight of his past. Hank, ever the observer, points out how Logan’s demeanor has shifted—less brooding, more open. Even Charles, who has seen Logan through his darkest times, pulls you aside one day to express his approval.
“I must say,” Charles says, his tone warm and approving, “I haven’t seen Logan like this in a very long time. Whatever you two have managed to sort out, it’s working.”
And it is. Slowly but surely, the wounds that had once held you back have healed. The doubts that had kept you from fully embracing your relationship with Logan have faded, replaced by a deep, abiding love. It isn’t just the little gestures anymore—it’s the way Logan makes you feel seen, heard, and cherished in a way that no one else ever has.
—
“I never thought we’d get here,” you admit one night whilst looking up at the stars.
Logan looks at you, his expression tender. “Neither did I,” he says, his voice full of sincerity. “But I’m damn glad we did.”
You smile, leaning into him as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I love you, Logan. And I trust you. Completely.”
His grip tightens slightly, as if to hold onto the moment, to hold onto you. “I love you too, darlin’. I never thought I’d feel this way about someone.”
You know what he’s trying to say. So without thinking, you reach up and cup his face, drawing him closer until your lips are just a breath away from his. “Show me,” you whisper, your voice low and filled with desire.
He doesn’t need any more encouragement. He closes the small gap between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that is soft at first, almost tentative, as if he’s savoring the feel of you.
You can feel the heat between you building, the kiss growing more fervent as your hands roam over his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath his shirt, then into his hair. Brown.
His hands slide up your back, one hand tangling in your hair as he angles your head, deepening the kiss further until you’re both breathless.
When you finally pull back, your foreheads resting against each other’s, you’re both panting, your hearts racing in sync. His eyes are dark with desire, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he holds you close.
“You’re everything to me,” he murmurs. “I never thought I’d get my happy ending, but here you are… and I’m never lettin’ you go.”
You smile, feeling the last remnants of pain melt away, replaced by a certainty that this is where you’re meant to be. “And I’m never leaving,” you whisper back, sealing your words with another kiss that quickly reignites the fire between you.
This kiss is hungrier, more urgent, as if you both need to make up for lost time. Logan’s hands roam your body with a possessiveness that sends shivers down your spine, his touch igniting a fire in your core.
That night, you lose yourself in him, in the way he tastes, in the way he makes love to you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. Because this time, you’re not just in love—you’re in love with a man who loves you back, fully and completely.
And that makes all the difference.
----
a/n: i love you if you made it this far. please check out my new series The Feeling's Mutual
#deadpool and wolverine#logan howlett fic#the wolverine#wolverine#wolverine angst#logan x reader#logan howlett#james logan howlett#logan howlett imagine#angst#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett angst#deadpool 3#wolverine smut#deadpool#wade wilson#x men#x men movies#logan howlett smut#mcu#marvel#mcu imagine
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omg i ran out of tags 😭 sorry for being so extra op 😭
but i just!! love the development he's had and how he no longer thinks about just himself and is starting to think about a life with you 🥺
your pacing in the bits that say 'he's so in love with you' and 'he likes you so so much' is immaculate!!!! truly felt that deep in my core and idk how you do it 😭 your writing truly has Magic!!!
and the end bit!! with october and the ring 😭 it just brings me back to their conversation: 'why grow something you're going to let go of' (or smth) and how maybe he's an answer to that :--( that!! the love has grown and both of them will have to let go but!! the fact is that the love has grown!! and it's there!! and it's the journey to that 🥺 idk i could be rambling but!!
op!! this is just truly!! thank you for writing this 🥺 i don't even know how to fully express how much i love your works!! i'll be thinking about this for a while, just like i think about all the other works of you're i've loved for a while 🥹
pairing : nanami kento/reader
rating : M tags : Strangers to Lovers, the butterflies are a metaphor, Caretaker Nanami, stalking mention, Soft Nanami Kento, vanilla sex, Nanami is a closet romantic i stand by that, bonding over reading and not talking about feelings
summary:
this never factored into his plan; meeting you is completely incidental. then again, isn't everything?
chaos theory (wc 4500) - ao3 mirror
#pls read this#jjk#kento#oh op i loved this 🥺 it was so so soft and just!! i love the way you write always!!! one of my favourite writers for real 🥺#i loooove your characterisations always 🥺 truly adore how you wrote nanami in this!! i found myself nodding to everything you wrote#absolutes and never really thinking things much; feeling like he always has to do things; downplaying difficulties; answering practicalitie#when deep down there's always hope!! (a romantic!!); when deep down there's so much goodness and want for a quiet life; to care for others#there's so much i can say abt nanami's characterisation that resonates so much with the things i believe abt him too but aaah#i just love how you make him shine thru!! nanami is always tricky for me bc he doesn't exactly speak much 😭 but you weave him so well#in the unspoken and the actions; in the gestures he does; in the habits and little things noticed abt him that even w minimal dialogue#i fully felt him!!!! aaaah you're amazing op 😭#your descriptions also always amaze me!! the way you set a scene--vivid with just the right amount of words asbfjsf!!!#sometimes i read a line and think: these are the perfect words for this#bc it's so true!!! i think there is so much care in the way you craft sentences that everything feels like it belongs and fits!!!#i also loved how you characterised reader!! as someone ~~kind of contrasting to how nanami is!! a breath of fresh air 🥺#i love dynamics like that for him and find it so sweet 🥺: you breeze through strangers misfortunes like some sort of wayward angel.#i adore your pacing as well!! there's something about your writing that's warm and achey and it always leaves me thinking about everything#lines like this: 'But you picked up the doll. You held the door. And you don’t deserve this any of it.' and how you place them always hit m#and the subtext!!! the things unsaid!! the words between!! i love how the development of the relationship and feelings parallel#the discussion of books and things hsjdbsj the whole thing about trust before love i lOVE THAT!! bc it feels like what they eventually do#that paragraph abt the second-hand book too!! how u can lift something about reader's character just from a secondhand book is so cool#i also find this line so pretty: It all falls together with an almost serendipitous ease.#this paragraph too: And the things you don’t talk about the things neither of you will broach? Those things feel less heavy#in the presence of the other. Not less poignant but like they take up less space in the face of hot pot days and book discussions.#i loved nanami's gradual development too!! when he notices that he no longer does the most logical thing but just wants to please u 🥹#you do it so artfully well within 4k words!!!#apart from that your descriptions are also so fitting!!! the bit abt the live wire and a nerve and spider silk!!! i loved that so much!!#and omg nanami bleeding out but still trying to find caterpillars for u and knocking on ur door in the morning LIKE 😭😭😭😭#this line: 'He’s so careful with you and the things you care for— gentle and gracious.' i love bc i think would also be so true abt him 🥹#and this one: He thinks of all the places in his apartment where you might fit in. The bare side tables and the clean shelves...
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John, he’d been waiting for this moment, been waiting for you to come through the door with tired eyes, an ache in your bones and your head pounding so much you were disappointed that your instincts had kicked in when you slipped on some ice outside and caught yourself instead of letting yourself get knocked the fuck out. So disappointed.
And after a long train ride into the beautiful countryside, a taxi ride to the rustic cabin that always looked more like a cottage to you, you weren’t even bothered about special greetings anymore.
You practically collapsed on John’s lap, curling up there. Your sleeves pulled over your fists because you once again forgot a coat on the way out of your flat. Rubbing your tired eyes with said sleeve covered fist, you mumbled out a sleepy ‘hello’ to which he chuckled pulling your hand away from your now red eye.
“Hello to you too love.” You snuggled further into his neck, thankful that he had trimmed his mutton chops and beard down so they weren’t massively bushy and tickling at your nose like last time. “Long day?”
“The longest.” At this he grinned. John had been waiting for you to have a bad day at work so he could convince you to quit and live off of his money. He’d mentioned it so many times before but unfortunately you always thought he was joking and when he had rasped it into your ear while he was buried deep inside you, you thought that he was just being his usual possessive self.
Not fucking true. Okay it’s partly true, but John was serious. He wanted to put you up in his well polished cabin. Wanted to marry you so you couldn’t argue against him when he said ‘what’s mine is yours’. Wanted to come back from missions to find his cute little wife in his bed. He wanted to spend his free time gardening and baking with you. Going to the farmers market with you and he always wanted to try his hand at painting.
John Price wanted nothing more than to come home to you swollen with his child. Couldn’t wait to take leave so he could take care of you properly. Desperately wanted nothing more than to be there when you bore his child, holding your hand and telling you ‘you’re doing so well, my brave girl’. Wanted to see the sweet little baby that you made together on your hip while you told him all about the new curtain samples you got because ‘the ones in the den are ghastly’ as you so eloquently put it.
And now this was his chance to broach the subject seriously with you. If you agreed, which was a big chance because of how dishevelled you looked and how exhausted you must have been feeling. Then that was brilliant.
If you said no? Maybe he would have to resort to the old ways. Getting you fired. Getting you evicted. Taking all the fight out of you until you truly are broken and begging him for help. It’s not nice but it’s necessary.
“I have something I want to discuss with you sweet’art.” . . .
#squishycheekanon#captain johnathan price#john price smut#captain john price x you#john price fanfiction#john price fluff#john price x y/n#captain john price x reader#john price x oc#john price x reader#captain john price#john price#john price x reader smut#john price x you#captain price x reader smut#captain price smut#captain price x reader#captain price#captain price x female reader#captain price x y/n#captain price x you#captain john price x female reader#call of duty john price#call of duty smut#call of duty price#cod fic#cod price#cod x reader#cod fanfic#price cod
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God I forgot how good Pokemon Sun and Moon were.
The like. background alolan sovereignty stuff and the frankly startlingly sensitive discussion of child abuse and the way they entertwine? Team Skull being kids failed by the system, and that social ill giving room for the Aether Foundation to sort of push its way in and establish a hold in Alola to "do good"? The fact that the stuff the Aether Foundation is doing is really good work from a certain perspective, but is also disruptive, controlling, and not in alignment with the Alolan way of doing things? Guzma being abused as a kid, and ending up pushed around and manipulated by Lusamine, an abuser herself, who knows how to push his buttons?
The whole subplot of looking for a champion, which probably would've been Kukui or Guzma if their own hero and rival story hadn't been shattered by the stuff that happened to them? Guy whose dad broke golf sticks over him develops a perfectionist obsessed with being strong enough that nobody can beat him again, and constantly proves to himself he's safe by throwing that strength around? The way their relationship starts to repair when those societal problems start to be addressed?
And then Gladion and Lillie. God. The way Gladion is the older child who figured out what was happening first and got out of there, went no contact, and had to do what he could to stay off the street. The way Lillie is just starting to figure out and unpack the things her mother taught her, and beginning to become braver and show more independence? How her fucking mother DRESSED HER UP AS THE NIHILEGO, and then her big moment is to put together her own trainer-like outfit, to start picking her own clothes?? The way Lusamine treats her pokemon with zero humanity but pretties up and preserves them horrifically for show, the way the Aether Foundation is engaging in torturous unethical experimentation, as metaphors for the way she abuses each of her children???
The ways in which Guzma, Gladion, and Lillie all bond with Pokemon that sort of symbolically resonate with the kinds of abuse they received and the way they learned to deal with it--Guzma picking bugs, traditionally the weakest type, and Wimpod who runs from everything--showing the kindness deep down in him, and the way he grew up to be strong. Gladion, whose pokemon was more overtly abused, and evolves through his care into Silvally who can take on any type the way Gladion is forced to learn how to adapt to being by himself, and then to being a member of the community? And Lillie with Nebby, who starts out weak and defenseless, helpless, imprisoned, and escapes despite that and gets by through relying on other people, until she learns to take care of herself--and her buddy evolves into the legendary that defends the Alola Region from alien threats like her mother????
fuck that game was good. it fit so well with the themes and aesthetics of pokemon. I really wish they'd make more like it.
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Dreamy Desire | C. Leclerc
Kinktober 1/11 ~ Somnophilia
Summary: Even though you were in deep sleep, Charles found you irresistible.
warnings: 18+ smut, somnophilia obvs, fingering, oral, unprotected sex
wc: 1.6k
kinktober masterlist
© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work
The steady rhythm of your breathing fills the room, a gentle sound that lulls Charles into a state of restless anticipation. Moonlight spills through the window, casting a silver glow across the bed where you lie, the comforter having slipped down to reveal more of your body. Your legs are slightly spread as you shifted around in your slumber, the hem of your night slip dress riding up, exposing the delicate fabric of your panties.
He sits beside you, eyes tracing the delicate lines of your face, your slightly parted lips, down to your spread thighs.
He knows he shouldn’t, knows that waiting for you to wake up is the right thing to do. But tonight, something inside him stirs more intensely than ever before. The way you lie there, so peaceful and unaware, ignites a desire in him that’s impossible to ignore. You’ve discussed this before, shared your desires and given your consent, but Charles hadn’t been tempted until now. It’s a trust he’s grateful for, an offer he’s careful to respect even as his pulse quickens with anticipation.
Charles reaches out, fingertips brushing lightly against your cheek. Your skin is warm, soft, and he lets his hand linger, savouring the undisturbed contact. His breath catches as you shift slightly, your body responding to his touch even in deep sleep. It takes all of his self-control to keep his touch light, refraining from letting the bulge in his boxers make all the decisions.
In the quiet of the room, his mind races with thoughts of you, of how much he loves you, desires you. A smirk plays on his lips as he realizes how utterly vulnerable you are, allowing him to ruin you in any way he chooses.
His hand moves down, tracing the curve of your shoulder, then the length of your arm. He leans in, his breath warm against your neck, inhaling your subtle distinct scent. It’s intoxicating, this quiet intimacy. He presses a soft kiss just below your ear, barely more than a whisper against your skin.
Your body reacts, a shiver running through you, and Charles freezes, heart pounding. But you don’t wake. Instead, you shift again, turning slightly towards him, lips parting in a sigh. The sound is like music to his ears, and he can’t help but smile.
His hand continues its journey, removing the comforter completely before sliding his palm underneath your slip dress, lifting it higher. The warmth of your body against his palm sends a thrill through him.
Unable to resist any longer, Charles leans in, his lips brushing against your inner thigh. After peppering a few kisses, he moves higher, his kisses growing bolder as he reaches the edge of your panties. He can feel the warmth of you, the heat radiating from your core as he spots the wet patch on the flimsy fabric.
His hands slide under the hem of your dress, fingertips grazing the fabric of your panties before gently pulling them aside. The sight of you, so exposed and vulnerable, ignites a fire in him. He lowers his mouth to you, his breath warm against your skin, and begins to kiss and lick with a reverence that borders on worship.
You moan softly in your sleep, a sound that spurs him on. His tongue teases your sensitive folds, tasting you, savouring every moment. He knows your body, knows what you like, and he takes his time, enjoying the way you respond even in your unconscious state.
Your hips start to move, a natural response to his ministrations, and he can’t help but smile against you. He slips two fingers inside your cunt, the slickness and heat pulling him in. He begins to move them in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue on your clit.
The soft sounds you make, the wet sound of your slick, the way your body reacts, it’s almost too much for him. He wants to wake you, to see your eyes filled with desire and love, but he can’t help but feel a tad bit selfish too, wanting to keep this moment for himself.
Charles continues, his mouth and fingers working in tandem to bring you pleasure. You shift around, eyes still closed, and he feels you clenching around his fingers. He knows you’re close, so he stops.
Removing his fingers and detaching his mouth from your clit, he pulls back, watching a string of spit connect to your pussy from his lips. He raises his fingers to his lips, lapping up your taste with his tongue.
He watches as your chest rises and falls, knowing you’ve fallen into the depths of sleep again. He wanted you to wake up clenching around his cock, whining and begging as soon as you woke up, which was all you were good for anyways. Always begging for him, to stuff you up with his cock. Nothing else ran through your mind, and this time he was going to prove it by waking you in that manner.
Spreading your thighs further, he shuffled up after discarding his boxers. He paused for a moment, wrapping his hand covered in your slick around his cock, moving it up and down as he admired your compliant state.
Your hardened nipples were visible through the dress hiked up to your waist, your spread thighs and wet pussy was a sight for him, and him only.
Charles takes his time, savouring the anticipation as he strokes himself, eyes locked on you. Your peaceful form is almost too much for him to bear. He loves you deeply, but in moments like these, the raw, primal desire takes over, and he can’t help but revel in it.
He leans forward, positioning himself between your legs. He teases you, running his head up and down your slit, coating himself further in your slick. You twitch, hips moving on their own accord as he pushes inside with deliberate slowness. The tightness, the warmth, it’s all so perfect, and he has to bite back a groan. Your body welcomes him, even in sleep, and he watches as your face contorts slightly with pleasure.
The feeling of you wrapped around him is intoxicating, and he takes a moment to control himself, not wanting to rush this. He starts to move, slow and deep, each thrust measured and deliberate. He can feel the tension building, knows you’re on the edge even in your sleep.
Your eyes flutter open, a soft moan escaping your lips as the sensation pulls you from your slumber. You shift slightly, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, then into his hair, pulling him closer. The look in your eyes, that hazy mix of sleep and desire, is everything he hoped for.
“Charles,” you whisper, your voice a breathy moan. “Please…”
“Shh, go back to sleep, chérie,” he mumbles, his lazy thrusts hoping to lull you back to sleep.
You try to hold onto the pleasure, but the slow, deep rhythm of his movements is soothing, making it difficult to stay awake. Your hands move through his hair, a soft, instinctual gesture that makes him shiver. Charles’s eyes remain locked on yours, filled with an intensity that speaks volumes of his desire for you.
The feeling of him inside you, the warmth and fullness, is comforting and intoxicating. Your body reacts to him, hips moving in time with his gentle thrusts, but your eyelids grow heavy, the call of sleep too strong to resist.
Charles watches as you struggle to stay awake, a small smile playing on his lips. He knows how much you crave him, how much you need this, and it only fuels his desire to give you everything you want.
“That’s it, just relax,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “I’ve got you.”
Your grip in his hair loosens, your body melting into the mattress as you begin to drift off again. The sensation of him moving inside you, combined with the warmth of his body pressed against yours, lulls you further into the depths of sleep.
He feels you clenching around him, a sign that your body is still very much aware of his presence even as your mind slips away. Charles’ movements remain steady, the slow and deep thrusts designed to keep you on the edge of consciousness. He watches you, captivated by the way you surrender to him, trusting him completely.
As he feels your body beginning to build again towards release, he knows he’s close too. The slow, steady rhythm becomes a little more insistent, his own need becoming harder to control. He wants to feel you cum around him, to know that you’re as lost in this as he is.
His hand moves between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing it gently, knowing exactly how to push you over the edge. Your body tenses, your breathing hitches, and he can feel you getting closer and closer.
He leans closer, whispering in your ear, “cum for me, mon amour.”
The command, mixed with the pleasure he’s giving you, is enough to send you spiraling into bliss. Your body clenches around him, and a soft cry escapes your lips as you cum.
The sensation of you tightening around him is too much for Charles. He thrusts deep one last time, his own release hitting him hard. He groans your name, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm as he spills inside you.
As you both come down from the high, Charles kisses you softly, his lips lingering on yours. You nuzzle closer to him once he pulls back, wrapping your arms around him to keep him close. “You need to do that more often,” you say, your voice still laced with sleep.
Charles chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Anything for you, chérie.”
With a final sigh of contentment, you drift back into a deep, peaceful sleep. Your dreams and reality blur together, the only tangible evidence of your dreamy desires becoming reality are the mingled traces of your arousal and his cum slowly leaking from your cunt onto the sheets.
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#di’s kinky fics#thef1diary fic#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 kinktober#kinktober#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc blurb#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#f1 one shot#f1 smut#f1 x you#kinktober 2024#divider creds: djarrex
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About Time
Tyler Owens x Childhood Friend!Reader
Summary: You’ve been Tyler’s best friend since childhood, but a near-death experience makes him realize he feels much more for you than friendship and he shouldn’t have allowed himself to deny it for so long.
Warnings/Notes: cursing, mild angst, mostly fluff, typos
Words: 2300
Masterlist
It was when he almost lost you that Tyler knew he was in love with you. When he was forced to play tug of war with the violent winds to keep you in his arms. When he felt your chest move against his with your shallow, rapid breaths. When he heard his name, a soft whimper from quivering lips.
“T–Tyler…”
He tightened his grasp on your waist and mumbled, “I got you, darlin’. Just don't let go.”
At that moment, he didn't know if he could protect you, but the alternative was an unbearable thought. Living without you was unimaginable, unacceptable, so if the winds planned to take you, they would have no choice but to take him, too. Then at least you'd be going together.
He’d always felt something for you, and he understood that he probably always would, but he'd been unwilling to give it a name more intense than a teenage crush that just happened to last well past its expiration date. And while your perpetually growing beauty and intoxicating laugh made it hard for him to tame what he continued to feel, he’d managed.
But that fear of imminent death—more potent than ever—tapped into the depths of those feelings he’d been swallowing for more than a decade. The abuse of pelting rain and flying debris paled in comparison to the overwhelming storm breaking free from the neglected portion of his heart.
Once disaster moved along, you looked up at him with wide, weary eyes, and he couldn’t think clearly past the repetitive chanting in his head: ‘I love you, I love you, I love you’. Adrenaline was rushing through his veins, overpowering every other sense of logic and reason. He pushed strands of damp hair from your face, cupped your cheeks, then leaned down and sealed his lips to yours in a deep kiss. The first kiss. A kiss that typically has a much better outcome than what followed.
He hasn't seen you since that day. A week has come and gone and not one glimpse of your face, and now he’s more desperate for the sight than he’s ever been before. Missing you when you’re not around is far from new, but having released his feelings, the all-consuming sensation is worse. It’s harder to tolerate.
You're avoiding him, he knows it, but he supposes that can happen when someone kisses their best friend with no prior discussion of deeper feelings. It's not what he would do were the situation reversed—he'd still be all over you, kissing you back, smiling, never letting you go—but you've chosen to handle things quite differently, and in doing so, has left him no choice but to respond accordingly.
—
“Mornin’,” you hear, nearly dropping the pail of milk you’d been collecting all morning. Eyes darting to your right, you find Tyler sitting in one of the living room's quilted armchairs. Your heartbeat stutters.
When you turn your head to the left, your mother is leaning against the kitchen countertop, her fluffy robe tied around her body and a cup of steaming coffee in her hands that she brings to her lips as she reads the newspaper splayed out beside her.
“Mom, what is Tyler doing here?”
She glances up, swallows, and swipes her tongue across her bottom lip to catch the remnants of caramel-colored liquid. “Oh gosh, dear, he must've snuck in,” she replies, feigning ignorance. “But I’m not one for kickin’ anyone—especially not a fine, young man—off my property, so I guess he’ll just have to stay.”
With a huff, you set the pail down on the breakfast table, knowing your mother will take care of it, and shoot her a glare before making your way to the living room. Tyler stares up at you. You cross your arms and nudge your head toward the storage barn just behind the house where the two of you used to hold your late-night meetings when you were children, and later, teenagers. Many nights you spent in that barn after Tyler had snuck out of his parent’s house and chucked a pebble at your window to wake you.
Tyler nods and follows you out the back door to the large structure that protects your privacy from the prying ears of the woman inside the house.
“We gotta get you a new phone, darlin’,” Tyler says to your back once you're enclosed in the barn. “The one you've got doesn't seem to be receiving my calls…or texts…or elaborate voicemails.”
“Tyler…” you sigh, twisting to face him.
“You know we gotta talk about it,” he says. And he’s right, despite how the complicated element introduced into your relationship is entirely his fault and so you shouldn’t have to owe him the time of day until you're ready to give it. “You didn’t have to run away from me.”
“I didn’t run.” Tyler’s eyes follow the movement of your arms wrapping tighter around yourself and he swallows hard. “I walked.”
“Speed-walked,” he counters. “Borderline jogged.”
You groan, your tense shoulders sagging. “Tyler listen, I just–”
“Do you really think disappearing on me was a fair thing to do?” he interrupts. “I’m your best friend.”
Your jaw drops at the audacity. Not surprising, really; Tyler’s always had a way of wording things that gets under people’s skin, but out of the two of you, he is the last person who should be doling out the criticism.
“Fair?” you huff. “You’re the one who–”
“I mean, what was so wrong with it?” Long fingers slide through his blond hair. “Can you honestly say you’ve never thought about me in that way? It hasn’t crossed your mind once? No sex dreams? Nothin’? ‘Cause I’ve been wrestlin’ with it since fuckin’ high school, but ok, sure, fine.”
“Ty–”
“And I know it was unexpected but was it really that shocking? Don’t you think we’d be good together? I think we’d–”
“For fuck’s sake, Tyler, will you let me talk!” you snap, your voice carrying throughout the barn.
If you were trying to preserve your privacy, you’ve definitely failed now. Half of town probably heard you and they’re nothing short of a mile away, but at this point, Tyler has pushed you well past caring. Let them hear. Let them know what’s going on between you. They all saw him kiss you anyway.
“We nearly died,” you continue. “People around us did die.”
Tyler’s face breaks down and you instantly regret your words. You know he stuck around after you left. You know he helped everyone he could in the aftermath of disaster while you let your emotions override your system and ran home to cry to your mother over how he just rocked what was your very steady relationship.
“Look,” you sigh. “Even if I wasn’t thinking about death—and that is a massive ‘if’—I told myself a long time ago that you are my friend, just my friend.”
Tyler’s hands settle on his hips. His eyes fall to the floor and his back teeth clench. “Why?”
“Because I repeated it so many times in my head that it solidified,” you tell him, throwing your arms up. “You know why Bradley dumped me last year? And Pete a couple years before that? And Bobby back in high school?” you ask. “Because of you. They all sensed this weird…energy…from you. All of them. Do you know how many times I had to tell them they were crazy? Do you know how many times I had to tell myself that I was crazy whenever they brought it up to me and I actually considered the possibility of you feeling that way?”
You know exactly how many. Bobby had mentioned it five times before he decided he was done; broke it off with you right before prom and scoffed when he saw that Tyler had stepped up as your date. Pete was shorter-lived; asked you about Tyler three times before he said he could see which way the wind was blowing and had no interest in getting in between anything. And Bradley held the record at seven, each time making the fight outdo the one prior before he was simply fed up with the friendship you refused to sacrifice. Three boyfriends have ditched you solely because of Tyler, and fifteen times you had to talk yourself down from the jolt of excitement you got from imagining him loving you.
Taking a deep breath, you say, “You don’t just get to kiss me and not let me sort out my thoughts for five damn seconds.”
Tyler’s head snaps up, jaw ticking and eyes blazing. “Five seconds?” he spits. “I haven’t seen you in a week. That’s the longest we’ve gone since I graduated.”
“This isn’t just about you; how you feel; what you think; what you want.”
“Then what are you tellin’ me?” Tyler asks.
The light quiver in his voice unnerves you. Not because you aren’t used to him expressing himself to the fullest—and if he’s ever going to be vulnerable with anyone, it’s with you—but that quiver is typically the trigger for you comforting him, taking him into your arms and holding him, letting him wrap himself around you until he feels better and is ready to stop. For some reason, you never noticed how long he would stay tied to you when you gave him the chance.
“Are you feelin’ like this is it?” he continues. “Are you wantin’ us to be done?”
And suddenly, you’re irritated again. You can’t stop the roll of your eyes. In no universe would you ever be done with Tyler Owens, and the fact that he would entertain otherwise is asinine. “Don't be dramatic.”
“Well, what do you expect!” he shouts. “You’re actin’ like I’m about to lose you!”
“I didn’t say anything like that!”
“But you're mad that I kissed you!”
“Damn it, Tyler! I am not!”
Green eyes widen, his breaths heavy from his heaving chest. His mouth opens then closes then opens once more. “You’re—” He licks his lips as you watch him grasp for words. “Then why haven't you called me back?”
You shrug. “I don't know. We've never fought before, and I thought you'd be pissed that I walked off, which clearly you are, so…”
“That’s not true,” he says, moving to take a step closer to you before thinking better of it and staying put. “I haven’t been pissed, darlin’, just terrified. And missing you. And…wanting you.” Heat flares your cheeks, forcing you to tear your eyes away from the desperation in his. “But I’m sorry. I wasn’t tryin’ to…I mean, you left and I thought…”
You shake your head. Whatever he let himself think, he was wrong.
The silence that settles over you is thicker than you're used to in his presence. You're used to laughter and jokes, sweet comments and banter. Tension zings in the space between your bodies, but it's pleasant, electrifying, invigorating. You feel the full impact of everything that was tucked underneath the stress and anxiety of barrelling through such a hard conversation.
Tyler feels it too. His face shows it. His eyes you can only describe as heatedly glittering as he stares at you staring at him. His brows are pinched from frustration of a different kind. It's his lips, though, that reveal his thoughts better than any other feature. They're softly parted, glistening from a swipe of his tongue like he's ready to lock them to yours at any second. Like he needs to be ready just in case you give him the go-ahead so he can kiss you before you dare rescind your permission.
“What are you thinking?” you ask, words quieter than you meant for them to be, but Tyler hears you.
His chuckle is short, half-formed, partially overtaken by the exhale of a breath. You detect a slight tease, as if you should already know the answer to that question.
“That I wanna kiss you again,” he says. “So fuckin’ bad.”
The corners of your mouth struggle not to quirk upward. “Tyler.” He hums. “You know what it means if we do this, right?”
He nods. “We can’t go back,” he says. “But darlin’, I don’t wanna go back. I wanna keep on goin’...with you.”
“Everything will be different.”
“Not everything. We're still us, we'd just be kissin’ and touchin’ and, you know, doin’ other stuff,” he replies with a smile. “Hopefully.”
You picture Tyler standing before you as you have secretly wished you could have him for years—bare and muscled and grinning and telling you he loves you—and for the first time, you aren’t awash with guilt and shame. It feels right to think of him like this. Natural. There’s a soothing ocean of serenity flowing under the flames of desire, and it hits you that this was probably inevitable. All the pieces were there—friendship, trust, love—all there was left to do was act on it.
“You won't change your mind?” you ask, stepping to him.
At your question, distress takes over Tyler's face, but it melts into a grin once he notices your smirk. He closes the remaining distance between you and takes your hand, carefully interlocking your fingers.
“No chance,” he tells you.
“Ok,” you say, nodding. “Well, if you’re absolutely sure, then I guess it’s ok if you kiss me agai–”
Your chuckle is muffled against his lips. His fingers untangle from yours and he guides your hand to rest on the back of his neck so he can cup your cheek. His free arm coils around your waist, pulling you in closer, and your body melts into his. Your brain fuzzes. You lose all awareness of your surroundings. You think you might just stay like this forever.
----
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bc all i think abt is college!katsuki
Katsuki Bakugou is the epitome of the type of friend where you don’t actually know if you are friends.
It started off slow and gradual; a head nod when you sat next to him in class for the first time. You didn’t think much of it at first—just Bakugou being Bakugou, cold and distant as can be. But then came the day the professor prompted the class to discuss the reading with the person next to you. Oh boy.
Distant caves would be jealous of him as he offered impressive silence. He sat there with his arms crossed, glaring at the textbook like it had personally offended him. You tried your best to speak about the text, feeling the weight of his weightless replies, and occasionally he’d grunt or nod, but the conversation resembled your middle school talent show performance. Awkward, yes, but not surprising for a college class.
Still, you found yourself sitting next to him every couple of days, the unspoken rules of college and assigned seating habits pulling you back into his orbit. You tried to be kind, offering small talk here and there, but Bakugou always brushed you off with a grunt or a glare. He was prickly, always on edge, and you figured that was just how he was.
You were like this too on most days. After having your fair share of college-creep experiences you laid off the whole talking to people bit. But there was this exception you made for Bakugou. Not an exception but a curiosity of some sorts. Hell, you also were never good at math but you were on edge to solve the missing variable that is Katsuki Bakugou. Seriously, what's his deal?
Maybe it was the way he didn’t care of how he seemed, it could be the mystery or maybe it was just the fact he looked like he was carved by Lysippos sitting by you at 9 a.m. lecture. Those thoughts were in the back of your mind… you even wonder if Bakugo is good at math? maybe then he could help.
But then there were these odd moments, moments where his usual gruffness gave way to something else. Like the day you mentioned how thirsty you were, sitting there in that old, sweltering classroom with no air conditioning. Bakugou rolled his eyes, muttered something about “are you always unprepared?” (he lent you a pen once before) but then wordlessly reached into his bag and handed you a water bottle.
“Thanks,” you say, trying to match his nonchalant demeanor. Trying to let it go.
But the gesture stuck with you. He didn’t acknowledge it, didn’t say anything more. He just went back to his notebook like nothing happened. Typical. But you couldn’t shake the feeling of slight butterflies in your stomach, even if you tried to brush them off as nothing.
Things continued in much the same way. Bakugou, still gruff and abrasive, but every now and then, something would slip through the cracks. A quiet moment of consideration, a begrudging act of kindness. He never let you get too close, but there was always that flicker of kindness. Of Bakugou. The real him, you think.
It was a rainy afternoon when you found yourself stranded at a bus stop with him. The two of you had just finished class, and the rain came out of nowhere, pouring down in quick splatters. You both stood under the narrow shelter that barely helped. Bakugou was glaring up like he was challenging the sky to a duel while his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
He didn’t acknowledge you at first. And you didn’t think he would.
“You’re gonna catch a cold standing out here,” he grumbled suddenly, his voice low and annoyed.
Before you could reply, he was already shrugging off his jacket and, without looking at you, shoved it in front of you. He urged you to take it but you blinked in surprise, not knowing how to react.
But then, you felt the weight of the jacket warm and heavy on your skin. The scent of him—something sharp and clean—lingered in the fabric.
“Bakugou, you don’t have to—”
“Shut up. I don’t need your thanks,” he muttered, not meeting your gaze. He chose to stare at the rain instead.
“Thank you.”
He rolled his eyes but from that moment, something shifted. The dynamic between you two wasn’t any less tense, and he still barked at you when you got on his nerves, but the hostility had softened, just a little. There was still sharpness in his words, but now mixed in with these brief, unexpected moments of kindness? (for Bakugou, normal for everyone else)
The day before your big exam, you sat next to him in class, anxiety buzzing in your stomach. “Are you ready for tomorrow?” you asked, peeking over at him.
“Yeah,” he grunted, eyes not leaving his textbook.
You turned back to your seat, mentally patting yourself on the back for initiating (yet another) pointless conversation. But then, after a pause, Bakugou spoke again.
“Wanna review the material after class?”
You blinked, a little caught off guard, but quickly nodded. “Sure.”
And so after class, he led the way to the library, not even waiting for you to catch up. He moved with purpose, his sharp eyes scanning the room for a quiet, secluded spot. When he finally sat down and pulled out his notes, you were surprised to see how meticulously organized everything was—color-coded, labeled, every detail in its place. So he probably is good at math? You were definitely getting somewhere.
He started drilling you with questions, breaking down complicated concepts with a precision you hadn’t expected. His intensity was relentless, but it pushed you to focus, to work harder, and slowly, your understanding of the material started to click into place.
Hours passed in a blur, and the sun began to set outside the windows. The two of you were still going over definitions when Bakugou glanced over at you. “You get it now?”
“Yeah,” you said, a small smile on your lips. “Thanks, Bakugou.”
“Good,” he muttered, turning back to his notes, but something about the way he said it felt less harsh than usual.
But all this time of him testing you made you want to test him. Probably because you suspected how sexy he’d look getting every question right…
You smirked, feeling a little bold. “Aw, not you caring if I understand the material.”
He shot you a glare and his face twitched like he was holding back a grin. “I don’t,” he snapped, though his tone lacked the usual bite.
“You just looked so damn scared earlier, it was pathetic.”
You faked a small gasp at that. He wanted to laugh.
“Aww, are you worried about me being sad?” you teased, leaning in a little closer. “It’s almost like we’re friends or something.”
“Shut up,” he growled, his face turning slightly red.
That’s not a no, you think. You laughed, the sound light in the quiet library, and for the first time, you saw a hint of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth, barely there, but real.
Quaint and underneath all his surroundings lied Bakugou Katsuki. Almost as if he were labeled X in some math problem.
So yeah… he’s cold and mean and gruff, but… you know he has your back with exams… and when you’re cold, and when you say you're thirsty, and when you need something nice to look at. Definitely, Katsuki Bakugou is your friend…
That happens to have a massive crush on you.
(… and unashamedly, so do you.)
#bakugo x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugo fluff#bnha imagines#bnha headcanons#bakugo headcanons#bakugo imagine#bakugo x y/n#bakugo x you#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki fluff#katsuki bakugo imagine#mha#bnha#mha x you#college bakugo#college bakugou#bakugo au#bakugou au#katsuki au#this is lowkey just my fantasy idc if its slighty ooc#i havent written fanfic in a minute#and this was in my drafts for the absolute longest !#BAKUGO VS BAKUGOU IK#IDK I KEPT CHANGING IT#the way i was asking chatgpt for synonyms of gruff#lmao#not rlly proof read
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Venus and your love language
Venus in astrology signifies how you love, your views on relationships and how you express affection.
This is a general post.
For entertainment purposes only
Venus in 1st house
For someone with Venus in the 1st house, their love language is often affection and physical touch. They love to show and receive love in obvious, open ways. They appreciate compliments, sweet gestures, and anything that makes them feel valued and admired. They enjoy making others feel special too, often through kind words, attention, and being present for the people they love. Romantic gestures , like holding hands, hugs, or small gifts, can make them feel loved and appreciated. In simple terms, their love language is about showing love openly and feeling beautiful connections with others.
Venus in 2nd house
For someone with Venus in the 2nd house, their love language is often centered around security, comfort, and material affection. This means they express love through giving and receiving gifts, acts of service, or doing things that create a sense of stability. They value tangible expressions of affection like thoughtful presents or providing for their partner’s needs. They also appreciate being pampered and feeling secure in relationships, so they might love being shown care through practical gestures, like cooking a nice meal or sharing experiences that make them feel safe and cherished.
Venus in 3rd house
When Venus is in the 3rd house, your love language is connected to communication. You express love through words, thoughtful conversations, and meaningful interactions. You enjoy sharing ideas, writing sweet messages, and talking openly with your partner. You appreciate when someone listens to you carefully and engages in deep discussions. For you, love is about staying mentally connected, being playful with words, and showing affection through small, kind gestures like compliments or texts. Clear and frequent communication makes you feel loved.
Venus in 4th house
If your Venus is in the 4th house, your love language is all about creating a sense of home, comfort, and emotional security. You express love by nurturing others, making them feel safe, and creating a warm, cozy environment. You might show affection by cooking, caring for your family, or spending quality time at home with your loved ones. In return, you feel most loved when someone gives you emotional support, makes you feel safe, and shares quiet, comforting moments with you. You value deep emotional connections and stability in your relationships.
Venus in 5th house
If Venus is in the 5th house in your birth chart, your love language is all about fun, creativity, and romance. You express love through playful, joyful activities like going on dates, enjoying hobbies together, and sharing exciting experiences. You enjoy giving affection by making the other person feel special, often through surprises, gifts, or romantic gestures. You also love receiving attention and admiration. Feeling appreciated and adored in a fun, lighthearted way makes you feel deeply loved. Your love language is full of warmth, excitement, and passion.
Venus in 6th house
When Venus is in the 6th house, your love language tends to be expressed through acts of service. This means you show love by doing things to help and take care of others, especially in everyday tasks or routines. You feel loved when someone helps you with practical things or when they are thoughtful about your well-being. In relationships, you like to make life easier for your partner, and you appreciate when they do the same for you. Love, for you, is about kindness, support, and helping each other in daily life.
Venus in 7th house
With Venus in the 7th house, your love language is Quality Time. You really value spending meaningful moments with your partner, whether it’s going on fun adventures or enjoying cozy evenings at home. For you, being fully present and sharing experiences helps to build a strong connection. You like to create memories together and want a partner who feels the same way. Quality time is what makes you feel loved and appreciated in your relationships.
Venus in 8th house
When Venus is in the 8th house of your birth chart, your love language is intense, deep, and transformative. You crave emotional connection and trust in relationships, and love becomes a way for you to experience profound changes. You want intimacy, not just on a physical level, but also on an emotional and spiritual one. For you, love is about bonding deeply with someone, sharing secrets, and feeling safe with vulnerability. Trust and loyalty are essential, and you are drawn to relationships that make you feel empowered. You may also be attracted to people or experiences that involve mystery, passion, or even a sense of risk.
Venus in 9th house
If you have Venus in the 9th house, your love language focuses on adventure, exploration, and deep connections. You likely express love through sharing experiences, like traveling together or learning new things. You value freedom and enjoy relationships that encourage growth and understanding. You appreciate open-mindedness and might feel most loved when your partner engages with your ideas and beliefs. Philosophical discussions or cultural exchanges can strengthen your bond. You may also show affection by introducing your partner to new places or ideas, seeking to expand both of your horizons. You may find joy in discovering new cultures, enjoying nature, or attending events together.
Venus in 10th house
If Venus is in the 10th house, your love language often focuses on public recognition and admiration. You may feel loved when your partner shows you off to others or supports your career goals. Acts of service are important; you appreciate when someone helps you achieve your dreams. You value respect and status in relationships, so compliments about your achievements mean a lot. You might also express love through quality time spent in public settings or during social events. You seek a partner who appreciates your ambitions and stands by you in both personal and professional aspects of life.
Venus in 11th house
If your Venus is in the 11th house, your love language often involves friendship and shared dreams. You value connection with others and express love through social activities, group experiences, and helping friends. You enjoy building relationships based on mutual interests and support. Your ideal partner is often a friend first, and you appreciate open communication and shared goals. You show love by being there for others and encouraging them in their pursuits. In relationships, you seek freedom and individuality, wanting to grow together while still being your own person. Friendship is at the heart of your romantic connections.
Venus in 12 house
Having Venus in the 12th house often means you express love in private or hidden ways. You might be romantic but keep your feelings to yourself. You enjoy deep emotional connections and may love through acts of kindness or support. Your ideal partner could be someone who understands your need for privacy and intuition. You might find joy in creative expressions, like art or music, as a way to show love. Sometimes, you may feel drawn to those who are mysterious or different. Your love language is often gentle, sensitive, and deeply emotional.
Astrology masterlist
#tarot reading#pick a card#venus astrology#vedic astrology#astrology readings#astro notes#astrology#astro community#astroblr#aquarius venus#venus in the 8th house#venus in houses#venus in the 1st house#venus in the 12th house#venus in taurus#venus#love language#venus and your love language#tarot cards#vedic notes#astro observations#western astrology
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Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader 18+ mdni, these two and their usual kinks, mention/discussion of pregnancy, Simon in his BDU so... you know.
You have a stage five clinger.
That's the only way to describe Simon lately. He's your shadow. The only time he separates himself from you is to take care of the baby, and even then, he's usually always in sight line.
Most people would feel smothered. Annoyed. Fed up, probably. You would have too, with past partners. But for some reason, with him, the irritation doesn't exist. He's working through something in his mind. Repairing something. Healing something. Even though the day in the hospital is long buried, you know it still sticks with him, the evidence clear in the way he still treads carefully, still handles you gently in bed.
The attention, the devotion, doesn't bother you. The need to reassure him drives you into his arms as often as possible, and when he holds on longer than usual, you never pull away.
The last day in your apartment is bittersweet. Mostly packed up, only the skeleton remains, a shell of what was once your home. You expected to feel sad, mournful, as you sweep up the dust in the living room, but your emotions are conflicted, a turbulent sea of satisfaction and already growing nostalgia. You're ready to turn the tide, move forward, while still appreciating the place you became a mother.
You're grateful to Gaz and Cami for taking Orion all day. They're at home, no doubt spoiling him rotten, while you try to wrangle dust bunnies and cleaning the oven. You get lost in the chore of trying to clean up, distracted enough you don't hear the door click.
When heavy footsteps sound in the entryway, you turn.
And lose your breath.
He's in the uniform again. The more formal one, the one that Price makes him wear for meetings. It fits him like a glove, snug in all the right places, and there's no denying what it does to you.
You're already wet. Just staring at him.
He smirks. "Alright?"
"Oh, yeah, I'm just... I'm almost done." You gesture uselessly around the kitchen, half pointing to the oven door, eyes still trained on him, sweeping up and down, over and over.
He steps closer, head cocked, leaning into your space just enough your body instinctively closes the gap. "See something you like honey?"
"Y-yeah."
"Gon' tell me what it is?"
"You look good, in the uniform." You clear your throat. "I... I like it." Your hand unfurls, palm flat, and he tugs on it, folding it over the hard bulge in his pants.
One moment, you're looking up at him and the next you're being spun around, back to his chest, thick fingers plunging into the waistband to tug your panties aside. He groans, stroking over your clit. "You're bloody soaked f'me."
"For you." Is all you can manage, voice twisted into a whisper, and he rips your pants down to your feet, lifting them out to kick your legs wide.
"Hands on the counter," he presses you forward until you're nearly at ninety degrees, cool air ghosting over where you're exposed, slick and swollen. "There we go, jus' like that." He grips fistfuls of your hips, your ass, and then tugs at his zipper, its echo instinctively rising you up onto your toes. He's still in his uniform, completely dressed, and you stare at him over your shoulder, legs trembling, soaking it in. You think you might be drooling. Blunt pressure notches at your pussy, the crown of his cock working its way forward before he slams the rest in, your scream pinging through the empty flat. "Fuck."
"Simon- ah,"
"I know, sweet girl, I know. You can take it, pussy looks so good stretched around me." He's teasing, in control though the clench of his jaw hissing through his teeth is clear, hips snapping over and over, rocking inside you. His lips graze your temple, breath hot on your cheek. "I want you to stop taking your birth control." You shudder, clenching around him. "We're ready, mama. You're ready. Let's," He shoves deep, deep enough you turn to liquid, body bending to accommodate, "have another baby." The rough fabric of his uniform pants scrape against your ass, brush and burn delicious with a bite, and you moan.
The mind has a funny way of erasing the memories of birth. Oxytocin is a finicky trick, the halo effect obliterating trauma and replacing it with joy. You can't say no. You don't want to say no, and the idea giving Orion a sibling, holding another sweet, squirmy baby in your arms, one with Simon's eyes, detonates in your heart, flutters spreading all the way through to your fingers and toes. Your spine arches, hips flexing back towards his own, and he chuckles-
before pulling out and flipping you over, hoisting you up onto the counter with your legs wrapped around his waist. Your eyes roll backwards as he slides home again, pinching your jaw between thumb and forefinger. He looks at you expectantly. Waiting.
The agreement sears on your tongue, incendiary heat forcing its way through your lips. "O-Okay."
"Say it." He thrusts, rubbing your clit at the same time, rolling you close to the edge. "Say yes daddy like a good girl."
"Yes, daddy." His nose touches yours. For a moment, you're both suspended, pupils dilated, sharing the same breath, the same DNA, the same blood. He slows down, and you squirm. "No, no don't stop- p-please-"
"'Say yes daddy, I want another baby' and I'll make you come mama. Tell me." He licks your cheek. You're barely hanging on, holding the front of his uniform. He teases your clit again, working it slowly, and you whine.
"Yes daddy, I want... I want another baby." It's enough. Enough for a dark glint to spark across his eyes, the same glimmer you see from time to time, the possession, the instinct, deep rooted desires.
It sends you into orbit, head tipping back, his teeth on your neck, the two of you coming together and riding through the wave until it's over, and he tucks you into his chest, cock still seated deep.
"I love you." He murmurs. "I'm gonna take care of you this time. I'm gonna be here." You don't ask about the what ifs, what will happen when he's away, what if he misses it. You just bask in the warmth of the moment, and sigh.
"I love you too."
#eventually I'm going to stop writing these two fucking all the time#peaches asks#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#through me (the flood)#ghost x reader
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earth 42 miles reaction to reader hanging up the phone on his face mid argument?
— facetime
pairing: e-42!miles (aged up) x fem!reader
contains: arguing, minimal cursing, slightly toxic behavior lol
summary: you love miles, but his overbearing nature is beginning to irritate you. the two of you get into an argument over it on facetime, and you snap at him and hang up the phone. wc: 1,537
a/n: ik the pic might not make sense regarding who hung up on who, but i like it so we finna pretend it does lol. miles/reader are only aged up for plot
“look mami, you not hearin’ me. i’m not tryna control you, i’m just saying maybe it would be best if-“
“that is literally you trying to control me.”
you cut miles off from another one of his mini tangents as you stared at him through the facetime call on your screen, so far beyond the point of caring to hear the same thing he’d told you a million times.
you loved your boyfriend with everything in you. honestly, you did. but in the last few months he’d grown to be so much more controlling than he was in the beginning, a result of his ridiculous need to protect you and it’s got your head spinning on your shoulders. you couldn’t do anything without him looming over you, and you’re fed up. it was suffocating, and you needed him to know that you could handle yourself.
you heard his voice come in again from your phone’s speakers.
“aight fine, if that’s what you wanna think, then that’s cool. but i don’t want you going out that late, chiquita, simple. ain’t no discussion.”
“alright, bro.” you sighed, and he tutted at you.
“i’m not your ‘bro’. don’t do that.”
while you knew your boyfriend only wanted the best for you, you didn’t really understand the extent to all these rules he’d given you. like no going to the corner store at night, having to keep your location on at all times, or having to send a picture of yourself when you’d gotten back into the house— so he could really make sure it was actually you texting him from your phone.
since then, you’d deemed it safe to assume that he most likely had immense trust issues, and that was why he acted so strangely, because any other reason for this kind of behavior seemed ludicrous to you.
miles had yet to tell you he was the prowler, that certain people had bounties on his head, which included anyone who may be involved with him, anyone he holds close to him. he saw everything that went on in this city— when night had fallen and the streets became far too dangerous of a place for a defenseless girl like you to be out in them. you had no idea the kind of people he dealt with, the things he’d seen, the things he had to do. he just didn’t want you to get hurt, but he wasn’t the best at expressing the sincerity of his words, and they often came out too rough, too harsh. it was the best he could do, he was trying to communicate effectively, he really was. but time and time again you’d failed to try and understand his pleas past the words spoken to you; to actually listen to them, and comprehend them, and not just listen to respond.
so, being you, you retorted like the stubborn girl you always were. the stubborn girl he’d fallen so helplessly in love with and was only trying to protect with his entire being.
you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him in disbelief. “look, you can’t tell me what to do, miles. i can do what i want.”
he didn’t hear anything that came from your mouth, because the expression on your face had completely distracted him from the conversation at hand.
“hol’ on, did you just roll your eyes at me?” his brow raised, daring you to answer that question with anything but a ‘no’.
what you responded with wasn’t necessarily a ‘yes’ per sé, but it definitely wasn’t any better.
“oh, so you wanna control my face now, too? dictating what i do with my life or the shit i say isn’t enough for you?” you challenged.
his head dipped back as he laughed, a deep, provoked laugh— though the both of you knew nothing was funny, and that this was always how he reacted before he actually got angry. laughing it off was a means for him to screw his head back on right, as if a warning to you to not push him too far, because anybody who spoke to him with this kind of gall just had to be joking.
he exhaled heavily, a hand scrubbing down his face.
“can’t lie, you talkin’ mad crazy right now, ma. i think you need to cool it with that.” he warned, corners of his lips turned into a forewarning leer. “ima let that lil’ shit you just said slide, cause i love you, and ion wanna hurt your feelings, but we done talking about this.” he decided, leaning forward to prop his phone back up on his desk before scooping his playstation controller back up into his hands.
“and watch your mouth.”
chin retreating towards your chest, you were taken aback at how quickly he decided for the both of you that the conversation was over, as if you had to agree with him, as if things were decided simply because he’d said so. and somehow, you found it in all your unbridled nerve to make things worse.
“yeah, you’re right. we are.”
thumb pressing to the red X, you hung up the phone, leaving miles to gape at the black of his screen with shock etched into his features. he waited for you to call back and tell him it was an accident, and sat there for a minute, leg bouncing to maintain what little patience he’d managed to cling onto during this entire ordeal. he swallowed his pride and called you back, only for the screen to read ‘facetime unavailable’ after just two rings. you declined it. squaring his jaw, he calmly nodded to himself, phone snatched up, jacket thrown on and controller tossed onto his bed— game forgotten about.
“bet.”
____
you were fuming after you’d hung up the phone, steam probably would’ve been puffing from your ears if something like that were possible outside of the cartoons. there was a tiny part—no, a huge part of you that knew you shouldn’t have hung up on him like that; that regretted it. a part that knew miles’ was genuinely trying his best to speak to you calmly in the way he’d learned how, specifically for you, when calm was something he rarely ever felt. but you couldn’t help your anger either, and figured a break from the conversation, and a shower to calm you down would do the both of you some good.
you sauntered out your bathroom after about twenty minutes, a towel tightly wrapped round your damp torso and a heavy, depleted exhale departing from your lungs.
you felt relaxed. the heat of the water had washed away most, if not all of your anger towards the situation and you sighed to yourself, ready to come back to the discussion with a level head, and to apologize to your boyfriend for snapping at him and ending the call so abruptly. it was rude of you, and honestly you hadn’t thought it through until you had already—
“you know, ion usually fuck with cats like that, cause y’all kinda freak me out. but you cool.”
the inner dialogue of your thoughts were cut off by a familiar voice, muffled through the shut door of your bedroom.
“what the fuck—“ you hurriedly started towards the door, hand barely remaining on the doorknob for a second as you flung it open, to see none other than your boyfriend, miles, sat in your desk chair with your cat, bella, in his lap.
he was leaned back, his large green puffer jacket still on, legs spread in his grey sweats. he looked very comfortable for someone who had just broken into a home.
“how the hell did you get into my house, miles?”
you stared at him unbelievingly, quickly shutting the door behind you. he was in no rush to lift his head to address you directly as he scratched the underside of bella’s chin with his pointer finger.
“window. you should really lock that.”
“even if i had, you would’ve picked it.” you argued.
“true.”
his eyes eventually met yours, and they gave you a drawn out once over, gaze following the drops of water that rolled down your skin. there was a hint of a smirk on his lips, and he almost forgot what he came here for. almost.
you felt your face heat up, grip tightening over your bath towel as you shifted on your feet, suddenly feeling flustered from the boldness of his gaze. so he looked away.
“let’s hope that shower gave your mama some of her sense back, huh?” he dipped his head down to address your cat in a sweet voice, before gently lifting her off his lap and placing her back onto the floor, only for her to drag her head and body along his calf with a purr. traitor.
he leaned back once more, hands patiently clasped between his open legs and head cocked to the side, twin braids swishing behind him when he did so.
“so wassup? you wanna try that conversation again?” with a brow raised he studied your features, as if he were silently challenging you to talk that same shit you did over the phone to his face.
“do you know what boundaries are?”
“nah, not really.” he admitted.
you swallowed, gesturing towards the open room for a reason you didn’t know why.
“can i at least get dressed first?” you cringed at how your voice sounded when you spoke, but the way he was looking at you had your mind reeling and you could only focus on one thing at a time— the argument long forgotten. to be honest, you don’t even recall what you had a problem with.
he shrugged. “sure, if that’s what you’d like.” arms crossing over his chest he spun around in your swivel chair, now facing the same window he’d come in through. “lemme know when i can turn around.”
you sighed.
this boy was going to be the death of you.
- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms!
likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗
#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#across the spiderverse#miles g morales#miles morales#earth 42 miles morales#miles morales fanfiction#earth 42 miles morales x reader#miles morales prowler#42 miles morales#miles morales x reader#miles morales x y/n#earth 42 miles x reader#miles 42#prowler miles fanfic#atsv prowler#prowler miles#prowler miles fluff
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Heyyy, it's me again, but this time we're talking situationship!Simon—aka the biggest fuckboy you'll ever meet. Honestly, girl, I have no idea why you're still putting up with him!
you can’t even define what you two have, but one thing’s for sure—he knows how to use his dick, and you're both free to mess around with whoever you want. but of course, you had to fall for him, for that stupid smile he swore only you were special enough to see, for the gentle touch that lingered on your skin during those rare nights when he stayed longer than usual. you fell for the way he made you feel like you were the exception, even though deep down, you knew better.
you fell for how he made you feel like you were everything, even though he’d always leave just as quickly. he knew exactly how to keep you hooked—giving just enough to make you believe in him, but never enough to make it real. you wanted more, but every time he left, you remembered that his promises were as short-lived as his visits. still, you couldn’t stop going back, hoping that maybe this time, he’d actually mean it.
but he never did. you’d have fun for a few hours, but then he’d leave, acting like you didn’t exist around everyone else. he’d flirt with other girls right in front of you, not even bothering to hide it when he left with them, almost like he wanted you to see.
and every time, it hurt a little more, but you couldn’t bring yourself to end it. you told yourself you didn’t care, that it was just fun, but deep down, you wanted to be the one he stayed with. yet, no matter how much it hurt to watch him with someone else, the moment he came back, all that anger faded, and you let him in again, caught in the hope that maybe someday he’d truly see you as more than just a temporary fix.
one night, you tried to have a serious conversation with him, hoping that if you laid out your feelings, he might finally understand. but he dismissed your emotions with a shrug, listing reasons why he didn’t want a relationship: he was too focused on his career, he wasn’t ready for commitment, and he just didn’t want to deal with the complications. simon insisted that keeping things as they were was the best option for both of you.
afterward, as you lay together, a clear realization hit you. even though you were physically close, you couldn’t ignore the emptiness you felt. that night you made a silent promise to yourself: this would be the last time you let him in, and the last time you let yourself be trapped in this cycle.
and, being the dumb man he was, simon only came to realize what he had lost after you were gone. a few weeks after your last conversation, he saw you a few times out with other guys, laughing and flirting as if you were moving on. it hit him hard—a painful mix of jealousy and regret. he realized that he missed you, but at the same time, he knew he had no right to these feelings. not after treating you the way he did.
he managed to keep his calm for a few more days, but the weight of his regret grew unbearable. finally, he snapped and called you into his office late one night, claiming he needed to discuss the upcoming mission with you.
as soon as you walked in, simon felt his heart tighten in his chest. seeing your face calm, confident, like you had already moved on, stirred something deeper than he expected. there was no trace of the vulnerability you used to show around him, no lingering affection. he realized, in that moment, just how much he had pushed you away. regret surged through him, sharper than he imagined, and he knew this conversation wouldn’t be easy.
after talking about unimportant stuff for a few minutes, simon took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. “i know i messed up, and i’m sorry for how i treated you. i’ve been thinking a lot about what happened, and i realize now how much i regret it. i was wrong to push you away.”
you looked at him, your expression guarded. “it’s a little too late for apologies, simon, don't you think? you had plenty of chances to get it right, and now you’re just trying to fix things because you see me with someone else.”
he tried to reach out, his voice softening. “i know it’s not enough, but i want to make things right. i can’t stop thinking about what we had.”
you shook your head, stepping back. “you had your chance, and you threw it away. i’m not going to be your second choice or your backup plan.”
"y/n-"
"no, simon!" you sighed, closing your eyes briefly to gather your thoughts. when you spoke again, your voice was steady, "you know, some people never fade from memory. they leave a mark that lingers just beneath the surface, no matter how hard you try to move on. but to be honest, i’m not in the mood for any more humiliation or heartbreak. so, this is my final goodbye to you."
you could sense that he wanted to say something, but you couldn’t let him speak before you had your say. “go ahead and fill your life with new faces, as if i were nothing but a distant memory. enjoy your freedom and let others wear you out as they please. i’m done being part of that. keep moving forward, and if you ever try to reach out, know that i’ll let your calls go unanswered. for now, i’m celebrating the end of our chapter.”
even as he heard you declare the end, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he still wanted you in his life. he was stuck between guilt and the lingering hope that maybe he could still fix things. despite your rejection, part of him struggled to accept that he had truly lost you, and he felt powerless to change the situation or let you go.
simon’s face twisted with a mix of desperation and anger. “you think you can just walk away and erase everything we had? you think you can move on and leave me behind like I’m nothing?” he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but his voice was filled with raw intensity. “don’t fool yourself, i still want you, and i won’t just let you go. you’re mine, whether you like it or not. i know i’ve made mistakes, but i’m not done fighting for what we had. if you think you can find someone better, go ahead. but know this: i’ll keep groveling and doing whatever it takes until you take me back. i’m not going anywhere, and i’ll make sure you remember what we had.” he took a step back, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, and ran a hand through his disheveled hair.
you just smirked, turning on your heel to leave. as you reached the door, you glanced back over your shoulder with a cold, confident look. “i can’t wait to see you on your knees,” you said, your voice sharp. then, you walked out, leaving him alone with his mess.
game on.
(I WANT HIM TO GROVEL FOR MONTHSSSS)
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@daydreamerwoah
#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley#simon riley imagine#simon ghost riley x female oc#simon ghost x you#simon riley angst
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𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 - 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐎𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬 *☾
Masterlist - YouTube (subliminals)
In astrology, Saturn is known as the "Great Teacher" or "Taskmaster." This planet governs discipline, responsibility, and the lessons learned through hard work and perseverance. Saturn's influence often brings challenges, delays, and restrictions, but it also offers the potential for growth, maturity, and wisdom. Saturn teaches us that lasting success is achieved through patience, careful planning, and a deep understanding of our limitations and strengths. While its lessons can be tough, they are ultimately transformative, helping us build a solid foundation for long-term achievements. In this post, I'll explore the general meaning of Saturn in astrology, discuss how to navigate its challenges, and explain where these lessons can lead in terms of personal and spiritual growth.
𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧
When Saturn is in Aries, it brings together two contrasting energies. Aries, driven by Mars, is all about action, initiative, and a pioneering spirit, while Saturn focuses on discipline, limitations, and patience. These two forces don’t naturally align—Saturn’s cautious, methodical approach can feel at odds with Aries’ impulsive and fast-paced nature. If you have Saturn in Aries, you might find it challenging to assert yourself confidently or feel held back when trying to take initiative. This placement encourages you to find a balance between acting on impulse and planning carefully, teaching you to channel Aries' fiery energy into disciplined and productive efforts.
Through the houses:
1st House: The lesson is to develop patience and self-mastery in expressing your identity and leadership by focusing on building inner confidence through disciplined self-improvement, ultimately resulting in a strong, resilient sense of self that commands respect and authority. 2nd House: The key lesson is to learn financial discipline and align your values with long-term goals by practicing careful financial planning and avoiding impulsive spending, leading to lasting financial stability and a deeper understanding of your values. 3rd House: The focus is on mastering clear and effective communication through precise expression and patient learning, which strengthens your communication skills and fosters solid relationships within your community. 4th House: The lesson involves building emotional security and stability at home by creating a strong, supportive foundation through patience and responsibility, ultimately achieving a secure, nurturing home environment and deep emotional resilience. 5th House: The challenge is to express creativity and love with responsibility and discipline by channeling creative impulses into structured, meaningful projects, which leads to fulfillment through disciplined creative expression and lasting joy in personal relationships. 6th House: The focus is on developing discipline in work, health, and daily routines by establishing consistent, healthy habits and a strong work ethic, resulting in success in work and robust health through disciplined daily practices. 7th House: The lesson is to learn patience and commitment in relationships by building them slowly, focusing on trust and mutual responsibility, which can lead to deep, enduring partnerships based on mutual respect and stability. 8th House: The key is to confront fears around transformation and shared resources by approaching change and intimacy with careful planning and emotional resilience, ultimately leading to empowerment through facing challenges, resulting in deep personal and financial security. 9th House: The lesson involves cultivating a disciplined pursuit of higher knowledge and beliefs by approaching learning and travel with patience and a structured mindset, leading to deep wisdom and strong, well-founded beliefs that guide your life. 10th House: The focus is on achieving career goals through persistent, disciplined effort by building your professional reputation slowly and focusing on long-term success, which results in significant career achievements and a lasting, respected legacy. 11th House: The lesson is to develop patience and responsibility in social networks and ambitions by building meaningful, stable friendships and pursuing goals with long-term planning, ultimately achieving your aspirations and strong, supportive social connections. 12th House: The key is to face inner fears and limitations with discipline by engaging in introspection and spiritual practices with patience and commitment, leading to deep spiritual growth and inner peace through overcoming personal challenges.
𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧
When Saturn is in Taurus, it highlights themes around stability, security, material possessions, and values. Taurus, ruled by Venus, is naturally associated with comfort, luxury, and the enjoyment of earthly pleasures. However, Saturn’s influence introduces a more cautious and disciplined approach to these areas. Achieving the comfort and security that Taurus desires often requires significant hard work, patience, and sustained effort under Saturn’s influence. This placement teaches important lessons about building a solid foundation, managing resources wisely, and adopting a consistent, long-term approach to material and financial matters. Saturn in Taurus challenges you to balance your desire for material wealth and comfort with the need for responsibility, careful planning, and long-term vision.
Through the houses:
1st House: The lesson is to develop a stable and grounded sense of self by building your identity on solid values and a patient approach to personal growth, leading to a strong, dependable self-image that others trust and respect. 2nd House: You learn to manage finances and resources with discipline by focusing on building wealth slowly through careful planning and saving, ultimately achieving long-term financial security and a deep sense of self-worth. 3rd House: The focus is on cultivating patience and consistency in communication and learning by approaching education and interactions with a steady, practical mindset, resulting in strong communication skills and reliable, well-developed knowledge. 4th House: The lesson involves building a secure and stable home life by creating a solid emotional and physical foundation for your family, which leads to a deeply rooted sense of security and a harmonious home environment. 5th House: You learn to express creativity and love in a stable, consistent manner by channeling your creative talents into enduring projects and cultivating lasting relationships, bringing fulfillment through disciplined creativity and stable, loving relationships. 6th House: The focus is on developing a consistent routine and disciplined approach to work and health by establishing and maintaining steady habits in your daily life and job, resulting in career success and robust health through a balanced lifestyle. 7th House: The lesson is to learn patience and responsibility in partnerships by building relationships on a foundation of trust, loyalty, and long-term commitment, leading to stable, enduring partnerships that bring mutual security and comfort. 8th House: You confront challenges related to shared resources and deep emotional bonds by approaching financial and emotional matters with caution and responsibility, leading to empowerment through managing shared resources wisely and achieving emotional stability. 9th House: The focus is on cultivating a grounded and practical approach to higher learning and beliefs by pursuing knowledge and spiritual growth with patience and real-world application, resulting in deep wisdom and well-established beliefs that guide your life with stability. 10th House: You achieve career success through persistent, disciplined effort by building your professional life on a foundation of reliability and long-term goals, leading to significant, lasting career achievements and a strong professional reputation. 11th House: The lesson is to develop patience and responsibility in social networks and long-term goals by pursuing friendships and ambitions with a steady, consistent approach, resulting in the fulfillment of your aspirations and strong, supportive social connections. 12th House: You learn to find stability and security within yourself, even in solitude, by engaging in introspection and spiritual practices with a focus on inner peace and self-sufficiency, leading to deep spiritual growth and a sense of inner security that transcends external circumstances.
𝐆𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧
When Saturn is in Gemini, it introduces a disciplined, cautious, and sometimes restrictive energy to the areas of communication, intellect, and adaptability. Gemini, ruled by Mercury, typically thrives on quick thinking, versatility, and the exchange of ideas, but Saturn’s influence tends to slow these processes down, urging you to be more deliberate in your thoughts, communication, and learning. This placement often teaches the value of clear and precise communication, the benefits of structured and methodical thinking, and the necessity of developing patience in both learning and social interactions. Saturn in Gemini challenges you to transform your intellectual skills into something solid and dependable, emphasizing depth and substance over superficiality in all matters related to the mind and communication.
Through the houses:
1st House: The lesson is to develop well-structured, clear self-expression by refining your communication style and presenting yourself with clarity and confidence, leading to a strong, articulate identity that earns respect for its depth and consistency. 2nd House: You learn to communicate your values and manage financial matters with care by approaching finances and self-worth with a practical, well-considered mindset, resulting in financial stability and a secure sense of self rooted in clear values and effective communication. 3rd House: The focus is on cultivating disciplined and thoughtful communication and learning by taking the time to master communication skills and develop well-organized knowledge, leading to strong, reliable communication abilities and a reputation for being well-informed. 4th House: The lesson involves building a stable, communicative home environment by fostering open and structured communication within your family and creating a mentally stimulating home life, resulting in a secure and intellectually rich home that promotes comfort and growth. 5th House: You learn to express creativity and joy in a disciplined, thoughtful manner by channeling creative energies into structured projects and approaching love and leisure with thoughtful engagement, leading to fulfillment through disciplined creative expression and meaningful relationships. 6th House: The focus is on developing disciplined communication and adaptability in daily work and health routines by establishing structured work habits and clear communication in the workplace, leading to career success and improved health through well-organized routines. 7th House: The lesson is to learn patience and responsibility in communication within partnerships by building relationships on clear, thoughtful communication and mutual respect, resulting in stable, enduring partnerships characterized by deep understanding. 8th House: You confront challenges related to communication about shared resources and deep emotions by approaching sensitive topics with caution and thoughtful communication, leading to empowerment through wise resource management and emotional resilience. 9th House: The focus is on cultivating a disciplined approach to higher learning and philosophical communication by pursuing knowledge and spiritual growth with patience and clear expression, resulting in deep wisdom and a solid philosophical foundation that guides your life. 10th House: You achieve career success through disciplined communication and structured intellectual work by building your professional life on clear, organized communication and long-term projects, leading to significant career achievements and a strong reputation for clarity and intellect. 11th House: The lesson is to develop patience and responsibility in social networks and intellectual pursuits by pursuing friendships and ambitions with consistent communication and a focus on long-term goals, resulting in fulfilled aspirations and intellectually stimulating connections. 12th House: You learn to find mental clarity and discipline in solitude and spiritual practices by engaging in introspection and spiritual practices with a focus on structured thinking, leading to deep spiritual growth and inner peace that transcends external distractions.
𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧
When Saturn is in Cancer, it introduces a disciplined and sometimes restrictive energy to the emotional and nurturing qualities that define this sign. Cancer, governed by the Moon, is deeply connected to emotions, home, family, and a sense of security. Saturn’s presence in this sign can create a tension between the natural inclination for emotional expression and the need for control and stability. This placement often brings important lessons about managing emotions, developing emotional resilience, and finding a sense of security within yourself rather than depending solely on external factors. Saturn in Cancer challenges you to build a strong emotional foundation, emphasizing the importance of responsibility in caring for both yourself and others while navigating the complexities of feelings and attachments.
Through the houses:
1st House: The lesson is to develop emotional resilience and a grounded sense of self-expression by cultivating inner strength and learning to express your emotions with maturity and control, resulting in a strong, stable self-image that balances emotional depth with responsibility. 2nd House: You learn to manage emotional security and financial stability with care by focusing on building a solid financial foundation and nurturing your sense of self-worth, leading to long-term financial security and a deep sense of self rooted in emotional stability. 3rd House: The focus is on cultivating disciplined and thoughtful emotional communication by approaching interactions with emotional intelligence and care, fostering meaningful connections, and resulting in strong, emotionally intelligent communication skills and reliable relationships. 4th House: The lesson involves building a secure, stable home life and managing family responsibilities with care by creating a nurturing, emotionally secure home environment through patience and dedication, leading to a deeply rooted sense of security and a harmonious family life. 5th House: You learn to express love and creativity in a disciplined, emotionally aware manner by channeling your emotional and creative energies into structured, meaningful projects and relationships, bringing fulfillment through disciplined creative expression and emotionally rich, stable relationships. 6th House: The focus is on developing disciplined emotional routines and a responsible approach to work and health by establishing consistent habits that support both your emotional well-being and physical health, resulting in career success and improved health through emotionally balanced, well-organized routines. 7th House: The lesson is to learn patience and responsibility in emotionally charged partnerships by building relationships on a foundation of emotional maturity, trust, and mutual respect, leading to stable, enduring partnerships characterized by deep emotional understanding and mutual support. 8th House: You confront emotional fears and challenges related to intimacy and shared resources by approaching deep emotional issues and financial matters with caution and resilience, leading to empowerment through managing these challenges wisely and achieving profound personal growth. 9th House: The focus is on cultivating a disciplined approach to emotional and philosophical growth by pursuing knowledge and spiritual development with emotional maturity and a focus on deeper understanding, resulting in deep wisdom and a solid emotional foundation that guides your life. 10th House: You achieve career success through emotional discipline and responsible leadership by building your professional life on a foundation of emotional intelligence and long-term planning, leading to significant career achievements and a strong professional reputation for maturity and responsibility. 11th House: The lesson is to develop patience and responsibility in emotionally driven social networks and long-term goals by pursuing friendships and ambitions with emotional intelligence and a focus on nurturing supportive connections, resulting in fulfilled aspirations and strong, supportive social networks. 12th House: You learn to find emotional security and peace in solitude and spiritual practices by engaging in introspection with a focus on emotional healing and inner stability, leading to deep spiritual growth and a sense of inner peace that transcends external circumstances.
𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧
When Saturn is in Leo, it introduces a disciplined and sometimes restrictive energy to the self-expressive, creative, and leadership-oriented qualities of this sign. Leo, ruled by the Sun, is naturally associated with confidence, creativity, and a strong desire to lead and be recognized. However, Saturn's influence can make it challenging to express these qualities freely, often teaching important lessons about the responsible use of power, the need for humility, and the value of earning respect through consistent effort rather than simply expecting it. This placement may also bring a sense of caution or hesitation in self-expression, making it essential to develop inner confidence through discipline and perseverance. Saturn in Leo challenges you to balance your desire for recognition with the maturity and responsibility required for true leadership.
Through the houses:
1st House: The lesson is to develop disciplined self-expression and leadership by cultivating confidence through steady personal growth and responsible use of creative energy, leading to a strong, respected presence that combines creativity with maturity and integrity. 2nd House: You learn to manage resources and self-worth with care and responsibility by focusing on building financial stability and a secure sense of self through disciplined efforts, resulting in long-term financial security and a deep sense of self-worth based on real accomplishments. 3rd House: The focus is on cultivating disciplined and confident communication and creative thinking by approaching learning and communication with patience, ensuring your ideas are expressed clearly and confidently, which leads to strong communication skills and a reputation for thoughtful, creative expression. 4th House: The lesson involves building a secure and stable home life with responsible leadership within the family by creating a nurturing, supportive environment through disciplined efforts and emotional maturity, leading to a harmonious and respected family life. 5th House: You learn to express creativity and love in a disciplined, responsible manner by channeling your creative and romantic energies into structured, meaningful activities and relationships, bringing fulfillment through disciplined creative expression and stable, deeply meaningful relationships. 6th House: The focus is on developing a disciplined approach to work and health by establishing consistent routines that support your professional goals and physical well-being, resulting in success in your career and improved health through disciplined, creative work habits. 7th House: The lesson is to learn patience and responsibility in partnerships by balancing leadership with cooperation, building relationships on mutual respect, responsible self-expression, and a balance of power, leading to stable, enduring partnerships. 8th House: You confront challenges related to power, control, and shared resources with responsibility by approaching financial and emotional matters with caution and disciplined self-expression, leading to empowerment through responsible management and deep emotional resilience. 9th House: The focus is on cultivating a disciplined approach to philosophical and creative growth by pursuing knowledge and spiritual development with responsibility, resulting in deep wisdom and a well-developed philosophical outlook that guides your life with integrity and creativity. 10th House: You achieve career success through disciplined leadership and responsible self-expression by building your professional life on a foundation of mature leadership and steady effort, leading to significant career achievements and a strong professional reputation. 11th House: The lesson is to develop patience and responsibility in social networks and creative ambitions by pursuing friendships and long-term goals with a disciplined approach, resulting in the fulfillment of your aspirations and strong, supportive social connections. 12th House: You learn to express your creativity and leadership in solitude and spiritual practices by engaging in introspection with a focus on disciplined self-expression and inner growth, leading to deep spiritual growth and a sense of inner confidence that transcends external recognition.
𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧
When Saturn is in Virgo, it highlights themes of precision, practicality, and service. Virgo, ruled by Mercury, naturally gravitates toward analytical thinking, attention to detail, and a strong work ethic. Saturn’s influence in Virgo intensifies these traits but also introduces challenges such as perfectionism, over-criticism, and a tendency to become overly fixated on flaws and imperfections. This placement often teaches important lessons about balancing efficiency with flexibility and managing responsibilities in a way that promotes both productivity and self-care. Saturn in Virgo challenges you to adopt a disciplined and organized approach to life while learning to accept imperfections and avoid getting lost in minor details that may not serve the bigger picture.
Through the houses:
1st House: The lesson is to develop a disciplined and precise approach to self-expression by cultivating a strong personal identity through attention to detail and self-improvement, leading to a well-organized, respected presence that combines practicality with confidence. 2nd House: You learn to manage your resources and self-worth with meticulous care and responsibility by focusing on building financial stability and self-esteem through disciplined work and careful planning, resulting in long-term financial security and a deep sense of self-worth based on practical achievements. 3rd House: The focus is on cultivating disciplined and precise communication and analytical thinking by approaching learning and communication with clarity, accuracy, and practical application, leading to strong communication skills and a reputation for being thorough and reliable. 4th House: The lesson involves building a stable and organized home life with careful attention to detail by creating a well-maintained, supportive environment through disciplined efforts, leading to a harmonious and well-structured home life that provides comfort and security. 5th House: You learn to express creativity and love with discipline and attention to detail by channeling your energies into structured, meaningful activities that emphasize quality over quantity, bringing fulfillment through disciplined creative expression and stable, thoughtful relationships. 6th House: The focus is on developing a disciplined approach to work and health by establishing consistent routines that support your professional goals and physical well-being, paying attention to details, resulting in career success and improved health through well-organized habits. 7th House: The lesson is to learn patience and responsibility in partnerships by balancing criticism with support, building relationships on mutual respect and practical cooperation, leading to stable, enduring partnerships characterized by shared responsibilities. 8th House: You confront challenges related to control, shared resources, and deep analysis by approaching financial and emotional matters with caution, meticulous planning, and an analytical mindset, leading to empowerment through responsible management and a deep understanding of complex issues. 9th House: The focus is on cultivating a disciplined approach to philosophical and analytical growth by pursuing knowledge and spiritual development with practical application and attention to detail, resulting in deep wisdom and a well-structured philosophical outlook. 10th House: You achieve career success through disciplined work and attention to detail by building your professional life on careful planning, organization, and a commitment to excellence, leading to significant career achievements and a strong reputation for reliability and precision. 11th House: The lesson is to develop patience and responsibility in social networks and analytical pursuits by pursuing friendships and long-term goals with a disciplined approach to organization and practical analysis, resulting in fulfilled aspirations and strong, supportive social connections. 12th House: You learn to apply discipline and analysis in solitude and spiritual practices by engaging in introspection with a focus on self-improvement and practical growth, leading to deep spiritual growth and a sense of inner peace and clarity from disciplined self-reflection.
𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧
When Saturn is in Libra, it introduces a structured and disciplined influence to the areas of relationships, balance, and fairness. Libra, ruled by Venus, is naturally linked to harmony, partnerships, and a strong sense of justice. Saturn's presence in Libra is particularly potent, as Saturn is exalted in this sign, meaning it operates very effectively here. This placement often teaches valuable lessons about the importance of responsibility and commitment in relationships, the need to establish clear boundaries, and the ongoing challenge of maintaining balance in various aspects of life. Saturn in Libra encourages you to approach partnerships and social interactions with maturity and fairness, highlighting the significance of long-term commitment, diplomacy, and the cultivation of stable, enduring relationships.
Through the houses:
1st House: The lesson is to develop a balanced, disciplined approach to self-expression and relationships by cultivating a strong sense of fairness and responsibility in your interactions, leading to a respected presence that harmonizes personal needs with a commitment to fairness in relationships. 2nd House: You learn to manage resources and values with a focus on balance and fairness by approaching financial matters and self-worth with responsibility and a commitment to long-term stability, resulting in financial security and a deep sense of self-worth rooted in balanced values. 3rd House: The focus is on cultivating disciplined and fair communication and thinking by expressing ideas with clarity, diplomacy, and fairness in all interactions, leading to strong communication skills and a reputation for being thoughtful, fair-minded, and reliable. 4th House: The lesson involves building a secure and balanced home life by creating a harmonious environment through disciplined efforts and a commitment to fairness within the family, resulting in a stable, peaceful home life and strong, respectful family relationships. 5th House: You learn to express creativity and love with a sense of responsibility and balance by channeling energies into structured, meaningful activities that emphasize fairness and commitment, bringing fulfillment through disciplined creative expression and stable, harmonious relationships. 6th House: The focus is on developing a disciplined, balanced approach to work and health by establishing consistent routines that support professional goals and physical well-being with an emphasis on fairness and service, leading to career success and improved health through well-balanced habits. 7th House: The lesson is to understand the importance of commitment and fairness in partnerships by building relationships on mutual respect and responsibility, leading to stable, enduring partnerships characterized by deep mutual respect, fairness, and long-term stability. 8th House: You confront challenges related to control, intimacy, and shared resources with fairness by approaching deep emotional and financial matters with diplomacy and balance, leading to empowerment through responsible management and deep emotional connections built on fairness and trust. 9th House: The focus is on cultivating a disciplined, balanced approach to philosophical and spiritual growth by pursuing knowledge with a focus on fairness and justice, resulting in deep wisdom and a well-developed philosophical outlook that guides your life with integrity and balance. 10th House: You achieve career success through disciplined leadership and a commitment to fairness by building your professional life on fairness, justice, and long-term planning, leading to significant career achievements and a strong reputation for balanced leadership. 11th House: The lesson is to develop patience and responsibility in social networks by pursuing friendships and long-term goals with a disciplined approach to fairness and cooperation, resulting in fulfilled aspirations and strong, supportive social connections built on mutual respect. 12th House: You learn to apply discipline and balance in solitude and spiritual practices by engaging in introspection with a focus on inner balance, fairness, and self-reflection, leading to deep spiritual growth and a sense of inner peace and balance from disciplined self-reflection.
𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧
When Saturn is in Scorpio, it brings a disciplined, intense, and transformative energy to a sign known for its emotional depth, intensity, and focus on power and transformation. Scorpio, ruled by Mars and co-ruled by Pluto, is connected with themes of regeneration, secrets, and control. Saturn's influence in Scorpio often presents challenges related to managing deep-seated fears, navigating power dynamics, and dealing with emotional complexities. This placement teaches crucial lessons about developing emotional resilience, confronting and overcoming fears, and the responsible use of power. Saturn in Scorpio pushes you to explore the depths of your psyche, confront your inner shadows, and emerge stronger and more disciplined, turning challenges into opportunities for profound personal growth.
Through the houses:
1st House: The lesson is to develop a strong, resilient sense of self that can handle intensity and transformation by cultivating emotional discipline and navigating personal challenges with strength and control, leading to a powerful self-identity that commands respect and handles life’s challenges with grace. 2nd House: You learn to manage resources and values with emotional depth and security by approaching financial matters and self-worth with discipline, focusing on long-term security and emotional stability, resulting in financial security and a deep sense of self-worth rooted in resilience. 3rd House: The focus is on cultivating disciplined and intense communication and thinking by expressing ideas with clarity, depth, and a strategic mindset, leading to strong communication skills and a reputation for being insightful, strategic, and emotionally intelligent. 4th House: The lesson involves building a secure and emotionally resilient home life by creating a stable, supportive environment through disciplined efforts, resulting in a deeply rooted sense of security and a strong, emotionally stable family life. 5th House: You learn to express creativity and love with intensity and responsibility by channeling creative and romantic energies into structured, meaningful activities that emphasize emotional depth, bringing fulfillment through disciplined creative expression and stable, deeply meaningful relationships. 6th House: The focus is on developing a disciplined approach to work and health by establishing consistent routines that support professional goals and emotional health, leading to career success and improved health through emotionally aware, balanced habits. 7th House: The lesson is to understand the importance of commitment, depth, and emotional resilience in partnerships by building relationships on trust, responsibility, and a willingness to confront and resolve emotional challenges, resulting in stable, enduring partnerships characterized by deep emotional connections. 8th House: You confront challenges related to control, intimacy, and transformation by approaching deep emotional and financial matters with caution and discipline, leading to empowerment through responsible management of shared resources and profound personal transformation. 9th House: The focus is on cultivating a disciplined, transformative approach to philosophical and spiritual growth by pursuing knowledge with deep understanding and resilience, resulting in deep wisdom and a well-developed philosophical outlook that guides your life through transformation. 10th House: You achieve career success through disciplined, intense focus and responsible leadership by building your professional life on emotional strength, strategic thinking, and commitment to transformation, leading to significant career achievements and a reputation for resilience and depth. 11th House: The lesson is to develop patience and responsibility in social networks and transformative goals by pursuing friendships and long-term goals with emotional depth and shared transformation, resulting in fulfilled aspirations and strong, supportive connections. 12th House: You learn to apply discipline and transformation in solitude and spiritual practices by engaging in introspection with a focus on emotional healing and inner strength, leading to deep spiritual growth and a sense of inner peace through disciplined self-reflection and resilience.
𝐒𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧
When Saturn is in Sagittarius, it brings a disciplined and structured energy to a sign naturally associated with expansion, philosophy, and the quest for truth. Sagittarius, ruled by Jupiter, is characterized by its optimism, love of adventure, and pursuit of higher knowledge. However, Saturn's influence in this sign introduces challenges around balancing the desire for freedom and exploration with the need for discipline, responsibility, and focus. This placement often teaches valuable lessons about the importance of patience in the pursuit of wisdom, the necessity of grounding expansive ideas in reality, and the challenge of maintaining optimism and faith even when faced with obstacles. Saturn in Sagittarius encourages you to develop a mature, disciplined approach to your beliefs, goals, and personal growth, urging you to combine your love for exploration with a practical and responsible mindset.
Through the houses:
1st House: The lesson is to develop a disciplined approach to self-expression and personal growth by cultivating patience and responsibility in how you present yourself and pursue your goals, leading to a strong, respected self-identity that balances adventure with maturity and wisdom. 2nd House: You learn to manage resources and values with discipline and a focus on long-term goals by approaching financial matters and self-worth with responsibility and grounding your optimism in practical plans, resulting in long-term financial stability and a deep sense of self-worth. 3rd House: The focus is on cultivating disciplined and thoughtful communication and learning by expressing ideas with clarity and a structured approach, balancing curiosity with responsibility, leading to strong communication skills and a reputation for being wise and reliable. 4th House: The lesson involves building a secure and stable home life with philosophical and spiritual grounding by creating a harmonious environment through disciplined efforts, resulting in a stable, peaceful home enriched by shared beliefs and a sense of adventure. 5th House: You learn to express creativity and love with discipline and a focus on higher ideals by channeling energies into structured, meaningful activities that emphasize growth and wisdom, bringing fulfillment through disciplined creative expression and meaningful relationships. 6th House: The focus is on developing a disciplined approach to work and health by establishing consistent routines that support professional goals and physical health, emphasizing higher purpose and integrity, leading to career success and improved health aligned with your beliefs. 7th House: The lesson is to understand the importance of commitment, honesty, and shared values in partnerships by building relationships on mutual respect and a shared sense of purpose, resulting in stable, enduring partnerships characterized by deep mutual respect and long-term growth. 8th House: You confront challenges related to control, shared resources, and philosophical transformation by approaching emotional and financial matters with caution, discipline, and a focus on growth, leading to empowerment through responsible management and profound personal transformation. 9th House: The focus is on cultivating a disciplined approach to philosophical, spiritual, and intellectual growth by pursuing knowledge with structured learning and practical application, resulting in deep wisdom and a well-developed philosophical outlook that guides your life with clarity. 10th House: You achieve career success through disciplined, ethical leadership and a commitment to long-term goals by building your professional life on integrity and higher ideals, leading to significant career achievements and a strong reputation for wisdom and ethical leadership. 11th House: The lesson is to develop patience and responsibility in social networks and the pursuit of idealistic goals by pursuing friendships and aspirations with discipline and a shared vision, resulting in fulfilled aspirations and strong, supportive social connections. 12th House: You learn to apply discipline and philosophical understanding in solitude and spiritual practices by engaging in introspection with a focus on inner growth and the application of higher wisdom, leading to deep spiritual growth and a sense of inner peace and clarity.
��𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧
When Saturn is in Capricorn, it resides in its own sign, where its energy is particularly strong and functions naturally. Capricorn, ruled by Saturn, embodies qualities such as discipline, ambition, structure, and a strong sense of duty. With Saturn in Capricorn, the emphasis is on hard work, responsibility, and long-term planning. This placement teaches important lessons about the value of perseverance, the need to work within established frameworks, and the significance of building a solid foundation for future success. Saturn in Capricorn challenges you to approach life with patience and discipline, to set realistic goals, and to steadily work toward achieving them, often by overcoming obstacles and demonstrating your endurance and commitment.
Through the houses:
1st House: The lesson is to develop a disciplined and responsible approach to self-expression and personal identity by cultivating a strong sense of self through steady growth, focusing on long-term goals and resilience, leading to a respected presence that combines ambition with maturity and a solid, enduring sense of self. 2nd House: You learn to manage resources and values with discipline and a focus on long-term financial stability by approaching financial matters and self-worth with responsibility, resulting in long-term financial security and a deep sense of self-worth rooted in hard work and practical achievements. 3rd House: The focus is on cultivating disciplined and practical communication and thinking by expressing ideas with clarity and structure, and approaching learning with patience and thoroughness, leading to strong communication skills and a reputation for being reliable, thoughtful, and pragmatic. 4th House: The lesson involves building a secure and stable home life with a focus on responsibility and tradition by creating a well-structured, supportive home environment through disciplined efforts, resulting in a stable, harmonious home life and strong family relationships rooted in respect and mutual responsibility. 5th House: You learn to express creativity and love with discipline and a focus on lasting value by channeling creative and romantic energies into structured, meaningful activities that emphasize long-term commitment, bringing fulfillment through disciplined creative expression and stable, deeply meaningful relationships. 6th House: The focus is on developing a disciplined approach to work and health by establishing consistent routines that support professional goals and physical health, emphasizing responsibility and structure, leading to career success and improved health through well-organized, disciplined habits. 7th House: The lesson is to understand the importance of commitment, responsibility, and stability in partnerships by building relationships on mutual respect, duty, and a commitment to long-term growth, resulting in stable, enduring partnerships characterized by deep mutual respect and shared goals. 8th House: You confront challenges related to control, shared resources, and deep emotional responsibility by approaching financial and emotional matters with caution and discipline, focusing on building long-term security and trust, leading to empowerment through responsible management and profound personal growth. 9th House: The focus is on cultivating a disciplined, structured approach to philosophical, spiritual, and intellectual growth by pursuing knowledge and spiritual development with practical application and long-term goals, resulting in deep wisdom and a well-developed philosophical outlook that guides your life with maturity and discipline. 10th House: You achieve career success through disciplined, structured leadership and a commitment to long-term goals by building your professional life on integrity, responsibility, and hard work, leading to significant career achievements and a strong professional reputation for leadership and endurance. 11th House: The lesson is to develop patience and responsibility in social networks and the pursuit of long-term, collective goals by pursuing friendships and aspirations with discipline and a focus on collective growth, resulting in the fulfillment of your aspirations and strong, supportive social networks. 12th House: You learn to apply discipline and responsibility in solitude, spiritual practices, and the management of hidden challenges by engaging in introspection with a focus on self-discipline and inner strength, leading to deep spiritual growth and a sense of inner peace and resilience through disciplined self-reflection.
𝐀𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧
When Saturn is in Aquarius, it highlights the importance of discipline, responsibility, and structure within the realms of innovation, social causes, and intellectual pursuits. Aquarius, traditionally ruled by Saturn and co-ruled by Uranus, is associated with humanitarian ideals, technological advancements, and a progressive mindset. Saturn’s influence in Aquarius emphasizes the need for structure and long-term planning in these areas, urging you to balance your desire for freedom and progress with the necessity of rules, order, and accountability. This placement often teaches valuable lessons about the significance of working within a collective framework, the responsibility of contributing to society, and the discipline needed to turn innovative ideas into practical reality. Saturn in Aquarius challenges you to responsibly push boundaries and contribute meaningfully to the greater good.
Through the houses:
1st House: The lesson is to develop a disciplined approach to self-expression by balancing individuality with social responsibility, cultivating a strong, unique identity while considering the impact on the broader community, leading to a respected presence that combines personal authenticity with a commitment to social progress. 2nd House: You learn to manage resources and values with a focus on innovation and long-term stability by approaching financial matters and self-worth with responsibility and grounding innovative ideas in practical strategies, resulting in long-term financial security and a deep sense of self-worth rooted in contributions to collective well-being. 3rd House: The focus is on cultivating disciplined, forward-thinking communication and intellectual pursuits by expressing ideas with clarity, structure, and a commitment to social progress, leading to strong communication skills and a reputation for being innovative, thoughtful, and reliable. 4th House: The lesson involves building a secure, forward-looking home life with a focus on social responsibility and progress by creating a stable, supportive environment through disciplined efforts, resulting in a harmonious home that encourages individual freedom within a structured family setting. 5th House: You learn to express creativity and love with discipline and a focus on innovation and long-term impact by channeling energies into structured, meaningful activities that emphasize originality and responsibility, bringing fulfillment through disciplined creative expression and innovative relationships. 6th House: The focus is on developing a disciplined, innovative approach to work and health by establishing consistent routines that support professional goals and physical health, with an emphasis on efficiency and social impact, leading to career success and improved health through innovative habits. 7th House: The lesson is to understand the importance of commitment, innovation, and social responsibility in partnerships by building relationships on mutual respect, shared goals, and a commitment to long-term stability and social progress, resulting in stable, enduring partnerships characterized by innovation and shared contributions to society. 8th House: You confront challenges related to control, shared resources, and transformative innovation by approaching financial and emotional matters with discipline and a focus on collective growth, leading to empowerment through responsible management of shared resources and profound personal transformation. 9th House: The focus is on cultivating a disciplined, forward-thinking approach to philosophical, spiritual, and intellectual growth by pursuing knowledge and spiritual development with innovation, social responsibility, and structured learning, resulting in deep wisdom and a philosophical outlook that guides your life with clarity and innovation. 10th House: You achieve career success through disciplined, innovative leadership and a commitment to social progress by building your professional life on integrity, responsibility, and a dedication to long-term success through innovative solutions, leading to significant career achievements and a strong reputation for leadership and social responsibility. 11th House: The lesson is to develop patience and responsibility in social networks and the pursuit of idealistic goals by pursuing friendships and aspirations with a disciplined approach to innovation and collective growth, resulting in fulfilled aspirations and strong, supportive social connections. 12th House: You learn to apply discipline and innovative thinking in solitude, spiritual practices, and the management of hidden challenges by engaging in introspection with a focus on self-discipline and inner growth, leading to deep spiritual growth and resilience through disciplined self-reflection and a commitment to personal and social transformation.
𝐏𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧
When Saturn is in Pisces, it introduces a structured and disciplined energy to the fluid, intuitive, and spiritual nature of this Water sign. Pisces, ruled by Jupiter and Neptune, is connected with dreams, imagination, compassion, and a profound link to the collective unconscious. Saturn's influence in Pisces brings challenges related to grounding these ethereal qualities into practical reality. This placement often teaches important lessons about setting boundaries, managing escapist tendencies, and applying discipline to spiritual and creative pursuits. Saturn in Pisces encourages you to balance your sensitivity and idealism with the need for structure, responsibility, and perseverance, ultimately guiding you to turn your dreams into tangible achievements.
Through the houses:
1st House: The lesson is to develop a disciplined approach to self-expression by balancing intuition with practicality, cultivating a strong sense of self grounded in realistic goals and disciplined action, leading to a respected presence that combines sensitivity with strength and the ability to manifest dreams into reality. 2nd House: You learn to manage resources and values with a focus on spiritual and material balance by approaching financial matters and self-worth with responsibility, resulting in long-term financial stability and a deep sense of self-worth rooted in a balanced approach to material and spiritual values. 3rd House: The focus is on cultivating disciplined and thoughtful communication by expressing ideas with a blend of creativity and practicality, ensuring that your message is inspired and grounded, leading to strong communication skills and a reputation for being insightful, imaginative, and reliable. 4th House: The lesson involves building a secure and spiritually fulfilling home life by creating a harmonious environment through disciplined efforts, resulting in a stable, peaceful home that provides emotional support and fosters spiritual well-being. 5th House: You learn to express creativity and love with discipline and a focus on meaningful, inspired work by channeling energies into structured, meaningful activities that blend imagination with responsibility, bringing fulfillment through disciplined creative expression and stable, deeply meaningful relationships. 6th House: The focus is on developing a disciplined, compassionate approach to work and health by establishing consistent routines that support professional goals and physical health, emphasizing spiritual and emotional balance, leading to career success and improved health through compassionate habits. 7th House: The lesson is to understand the importance of commitment, compassion, and emotional boundaries in partnerships by building relationships on mutual respect and shared spiritual growth, resulting in stable, enduring partnerships characterized by deep mutual respect and compassion. 8th House: You confront challenges related to emotional depth, shared resources, and spiritual transformation by approaching financial and emotional matters with caution and discipline, focusing on deep emotional and spiritual healing, leading to empowerment through responsible management and profound personal transformation. 9th House: The focus is on cultivating a disciplined, spiritually grounded approach to philosophical and intellectual growth by pursuing knowledge with a balance of faith and practical application, resulting in deep wisdom and a well-developed philosophical outlook that guides your life with clarity and compassion. 10th House: You achieve career success through disciplined, compassionate leadership and a commitment to long-term spiritual and professional goals by building your professional life on integrity and responsibility, leading to significant career achievements and a strong reputation for leadership and spiritual integrity. 11th House: The lesson is to develop patience and responsibility in social networks and the pursuit of collective, idealistic goals by pursuing friendships and aspirations with a disciplined approach to collective growth, resulting in fulfilled aspirations and strong, supportive social connections built on shared spiritual goals. 12th House: You learn to apply discipline and spiritual understanding in solitude, introspection, and the management of hidden challenges by engaging in introspection with a focus on self-discipline and inner growth, leading to deep spiritual growth and a sense of inner peace through disciplined self-reflection and spiritual practice.
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