#you just feel like getting scarred for life

[periprose]

May i request a Logan x angel!reader fic where the reader had to get medical treatment after a mission because her angel wings (that are apart of her mutation) were burned and partially damaged after battle, and Logan comes in to check up on her?

anon I loved this ask ahhhh thank you. I'm like half considering making this a series if people want it (so send more angel requests if you're into it!) <3 I may have made it more angsty but there is fluff at the end :) also reader goes by Angel in this fic.

When Flight Comes to Fire (or, Logan gains an Angel)

Word count: 4.5k

Genre: Best friends to lovers, mutual pining, X-Men stuff, idiots in love, angst, hurt no comfort, fluff, kissing

The first time your mutation made it’s appearance– sharp shoulder blades growing into thick appendages, soft, buttery white feathers extending from them in that unhuman way, your wingspan making it clear you would never be normal– your mother retched and said she would have done anything to chop them off of you. Would’ve done anything to have a normal kid.

In fact, she tried, multiple times, to do so. You were only twelve when she came at you for the first time, in your sleep, feeling falsely secure in your father’s platitudes about how she would never really do anything. You woke up to her reaching inside your blanket, grasping one of your wings as she brandished a knife in her other hand. Luckily, your wings were strong enough to shove her off, but you remember how you screamed at her.

Why, mom? It’s me! It’s me–

She didn’t listen, coming at you again, promising in delirious anger that everything would be okay soon if you would just let her fix it, and she had to be held back by your father, as he called the police. 

Because you were her kid, she got let off with a warning, and you were stuck. So you would often fly to the tallest treetops and take your rest there, trying your best to ignore your mother’s other attempts on your life. She didn’t seem to ever get it. You would never be normal.

The final attempt was probably the worst, and the one that caused you to fly away in the end to Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.

You were twenty years old, just old enough to legally leave home– you only stayed because your father insisted. 

She set your favourite tree on fire. You had no idea your mom had been in enough anguish to essentially murder you for daring to be different.

You awoke to the deep smell of smoke, of tree bark charring, and then you heard the cracking and sparks. The tree quickly caught fire, and you shrieked in pure terror as the heat of the flames approached you. The immense light emitting from the fire blinded you, and suddenly there was a sharp pain from your wings and back– you were getting scorched.

So you flew upwards, high enough that the fire dissipated off your back instantly in the cool night sky’s air, and you were fine. Nothing to show other than a little scar, and the sounds of mutiny coming from your mother below. 

You chose to forget her– no point in repairing a relationship with a woman who didn’t want you as you were.

But you’ve never forgotten the pain of being burned alive.

/

“Angel. You ready?” Logan is to your right in the foyer of the mansion. “Everyone else is waiting in the helicarrier.”

He’s your best friend, has been ever since you came to the X-Mansion as a runaway. It’s not an uncommon story among mutants, but Logan always felt you were like him. Rough, not the easiest to speak to, having a tendency to keep to yourself.

The major difference to him is that you’re a lot easier on the eyes. 

Seriously, it was almost like the universe was playing a joke on him. Here was a beautiful girl with literal angel wings, just missing a halo as she arrived at the door for the School for the first time, and he just happened to be the first ugly motherfucker to open the door.

Logan’s never quite sure why you keep up with him, why you stay friends with him, if he was just lucky enough to be the first person you saw and liked. It drives him nuts, the way in which you rely on him, trust him more than he thinks he deserves, you come to him at every moment just to talk over everyone else, when surely you could have anyone else’s attention.

Especially any stupid guy, like him. He’s not sure how you haven’t noticed– even now on the staircase, he can’t tear his gaze away from you. Logan feels bad to be so in love with you, too– he wonders if he’s reading into things too much, if he’s pushing for something that isn’t really there.

And he’ll never know, because you’re so damn flighty. Logan can barely keep up with your whims, and he only knows as much as you’ll tell him about yourself (he hardly knows where you came from that fateful first day), so he just lets you come and go as you please. He’ll keep his feelings deep inside, where you can’t possibly find out about it.

“Yup, I’m fine.” You have a brief smile for him, which gives him that familiar twist of the stomach. “Oh. You’re not wearing your uniform?”

“It’s better to be incognito for this one, according to Scott.” Logan says, adjusting his flannel, mildly enjoying how you check him out. 

You’re wearing the typical X-Men uniform– bright yellow, blue stripes down your sides, room for wings with a removable panel in the back. You let them loose, now, telling Logan you’ll be right back.

When you return, with quite a flourish, flapping wings in a true superhero-landing– Logan sees that you’re wearing a tank-top, and some jeans that really, really highlight your ass– but he tries not to focus on that.

“Hey. Tank’s inside out, Angel.” Logan says, waiting for you to fly off again, but you simply take off the tank top, and pull it back on the right way, exposing your bra-covered chest and lithe waist for the briefest of moments, while Logan loses whatever he was about to say. “I…”

“Don’t be a perv, Logan.” You jokingly side-eye him, never suspecting that that could actually be true as you tease him. “You’ve seen me change tons of times.”

“Yeah, but out in the open?” Logan stares at you. “You’re gonna have a shit-ton of admirers if you keep that up.”

“It’s just me, please.” You start up this whole I’m-not-pretty schtick that Logan is pretty sick of hearing, and he shakes his head. “Let’s go. They’re waiting.”

Yeah, Logan thinks, they are waiting, but he’s not sure you needed to be all quick and nonchalant about changing, just to get there faster.

That’s what he means by you being flighty– who knows what’s really in your heart, when you act so quickly?

/

“Listen up, X-Men. We’re gonna do our best to avoid damages today, right?” Scott speaks with the air of a leader who’s very fed up with his team members. 

There’s a resounding yes from everyone, including you, Logan, Jean, Storm, Bobby, Rogue, Jubilee, and Kitty.

“What’s our mission?” Scott says, and you answer first.

“Find the new mutant.” You state, and Scott nods, while Logan hides a smile at how adept you’ve gotten at these missions.

“Make sure he doesn’t defect to the Brotherhood.” Jean adds, looking at you and Logan, seeing how close you two sit to each other. She’s kept it to herself– but Jean thinks if you and Logan really do have something going on, that would be nice. For the both of you.

“No damages.” Logan chimes in, and Scott visibly loses a little composure.

“I already said that.” Scott points out, and Logan shrugs. 

“Well, it’s part of the plan, isn’t it?” Logan leans back in his seat on the helicarrier, nestling his head next to your shoulder, not noticing the way your eyebrows raise at the sudden contact. “Better than me not listening at all.”

“Sure, Logan. Fine.” Scott lets it go, knowing better than to ask more from the most “chill” (read: laziest) member of the team.

You laugh a little as Logan smiles a cocky grin.

/

The new mutant is kind of old– you’re looking for a 19 year old with severe singing around his clothes, pale skin, and black hair. You suppose he’d be extremely frightened.

Most mutants don’t deal well with becoming different all so suddenly, let alone at the very late age of 19, when you could assume that you’re pretty much normal. So you and Jean are hoping to find him first– you figure you’re the two that could calm him down.

Unfortunately, you find Jubilee talking to him first. She’s okay, but she has a tendency to be a little too bombastic, as Jean says quite often.

“And there she goes.” Jean grimaces as Jubilee taps the new mutant’s shoulder, and you pick up her saying that “she’s just like him,” which you’re not sure is a delicate way to deal with the topic.

There are crowds of people walking through the streets, too, and a lot of them are glancing at this yellow-jacketed girl talking to a boy with burnt clothes.

If you had found him, you would have brought him to the side, away from people, and–

“His face turned white. He’s freaking out.” You tell Jean, and her eyes narrow.

Bobby, Rogue, and Kitty are nowhere in sight, so this is just one weird young adult speaking to another one, and you really, really wish the rest were here. You, Jean, Logan and Scott are a bit older– perhaps comforting in your age– but you feel like the boy would’ve done well with more peers.

Jubilee raises her hand as you and Jean approach her. “Guys, I got it under control. See, Kyle, these are more people like us. More mutants.”

“...” Kyle looks on in disbelief.

“Kyle?” You try, and he looks at you– there’s something in his eyes that tells you he wants to trust you, but he’s scared– it reminds you of yourself. “We’re here for you if you want us to be. Take your time. Don’t worry.”

You smile, Jean smiles, Jubilee grins, and Kyle seems okay.

It lasts for about two seconds.

Someone drops what sounds like a glass bottle in the distance, and the shattering sound is enough for Jubilee to gasp, a little spark of fireworks launching from her fingertips, towards Kyle, who watches on in trepidation, and his body starts shaking, moving of it’s own accord, clearly reacting to being so close to another form of heat– and you and Jean move, as you yell out “Wait!–”

Kyle shrieks in fear as his body becomes overtaken with flames, combusting with such intensity that the flames roar at least 100 feet over, and Jean– Phoenix that she is– is able to withstand the heat, but you find yourself being pushed back by hot gusts of wind.

It hurts, it feels as if your skin is melting with every passing second. You grit your teeth, trying to breathe as Kyle loses control of his body, and you open your wings, deciding that flying off into the cool air would be a better alternative.

That was a mistake on your part.

The moment you open your wings, Kyle’s fire pushes you backwards, and up, into the hot air, and your wings catch fire as you come too close–

You scream, but it’s unheard through the roar of the flames, and you barely have time to catch yourself as you fall towards the ground, smoking, fiery tendrils engulfing you.

The last thing you remember is your mother’s face.

/

Logan sees it happen from a distance.

Scott wanted him to be as close as possible, something about keeping watch on him– and Logan gets it, he’s not always the most responsible, but later on, in hindsight, he wishes he was, because then he wouldn’t have missed what happened to you– and they both turn as a fire overtakes a block of the city.

“Shit, that must be him!” Scott starts running, Logan not far behind.

It’s only when he sees a pair of white wings, a woman flying up, up, up, the fire approaching dangerously close to her– to you– he starts speeding up, overtaking Scott, pushing people out of the way.

Logan wonders what he could do, anyways. He’s invincible, practically, incapable of taking on much damage as his regenerative abilities heal him– perhaps he could run to the kid and knock him out, sustaining burns in the process, but better him than you.

Never you.

Any second now– Logan sees the boy, and he’s got an open fist ready to lightly tap the back of his neck.

He’s not fast enough. Scott yells out, and Logan looks up to see you engulfed in flames, as you scream, and it’s awful to hear– usually you seemed so speedy, so ready to fly at a moment’s notice, that Logan forgot you could be hurt.

He calls out your name. It’s unheard by you as you crash on the ground, still burning– Bobby, Kitty, and Rogue have caught up to you from the other side of the street, and Bobby quickly makes an icy mist that subdues the flames on you, and Kyle’s roaring fire back into him.  

You’re unconscious as the X-Men approach you. 

Logan touches your face as he kneels next to you, the only one willing to come close right now. “Hey, Angel…”

There’s that unspoken fondness between you two, yet again. Everyone knows, even when Logan has tried to act cool about it. Even now, when Logan attempts to act like he isn’t totally hanging on to your potential words, searching for a breath, a little movement of your head. 

Jean, Scott, Jubilee, and the rest look on in trepidation.

You don’t respond, and he feels his heart plummet. You’re covered in burns, mostly across your stomach and back, and he inhales sharply as he turns you over– there’s fresh, scalded skin, crispy-red to the touch.

Your back, your wings– they’re damaged so badly, with feathers singed straight off, the muscular appendages more visible and wounded, and Logan doesn’t know if you’re alive. He almost removes his hands from you, the very thought seeming to scald him from the inside, and he glares at the kid– the one who looks terribly guilty, now, as he runs away.

“Get back here!” Kitty shouts at him, anger in her eyes, and Scott pulls her aside, explaining that it was clearly an accident of sorts– something that Jean confirms for him with a nod of her head.

Right, Jean. Logan knows that if anyone could confirm if you’re alive, it would be her.  

As Scott, Kitty, Bobby, and Jubilee go hunting for the kid– Rogue stays behind because she’s always felt close to you and Logan– Logan looks up at Jean in a solemn, teary-eyed look that has her understanding immediately.

“C’mon, Angel… stay with us.” She mutters, as she presses her fingers to your head, and she smiles comfortingly at Logan.

“She’s still here. Just barely, but still here.” Jean says, and Logan sighs, an angry, long sigh that tells Jean and Rogue that he’s going to be insufferably feeling at-fault here, even though no one is.

“Let’s go.” He picks you up, feeling the burnt skin through that damn tank-top, now barely being held together as tatters– for modesty’s sake, he takes off his flannel and wraps it around you.

Rogue lets Logan and you walk forward a bit, not wanting him to hear what she’s about to say, and then looks towards Jean. “He really loves her, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Jean exhales. “Let’s hope for his sake that she’ll be okay.”

/

Stupid bitch! You’ve been nothing but a curse on this family– fuck you, I hope your future daughter is just as fucked up as you are–

You awake suddenly, with a loud gasp and yell, your mother’s last words to you flashing on your mind– you attempt to pull yourself forward restrained back by tubing in your arm. You’re stuck in a bed. In a hospital bed of sorts.

Not just any hospital bed, one in the hospital wing of the X-Mansion.

You’re calm, at first, until there’s a sudden ache echoing from your back, through your body, through your wings.

“Ah–!” You groan in pain. Trying to move suddenly has hurt you.

There’s a knock at your door. It’s Beast– or, Dr. Hank McCoy, as he’s better known around the hospital wing.

“You’re awake.” Hank says in relief. “It’s been a few days since your accident.”

“It has?” You widen your eyes in shock. “How, w-what… am I okay?”

The last thing you remember is Kyle exploding in flames, causing you to catch fire– then you blacked out, and– you’re having terrible memories of your mother.

“Hank?” You mutter, and he’s quick to come to your side, blue paw-hand holding your own.

“My mother didn’t…”

“No, she’s not here. She’s never come close to you. You’re safe.” Hank states, as Charles has told him to, remembering the few times you’ve had to come to the hospital wing for comfort before. 

So many mutants have troubled backstories, and he doesn’t quite understand why you don’t try to connect with others about it. Hank feels it could really help, but you’ve always changed the subject away from you.

You’re hurt, mentally, in a way that no one can really fix, and Hank is a big believer in letting people progress when they need to– but he’s so glad that you’ve bonded with Logan. 

“Am I going to be okay?” You tap the side of the bed, fears present in your eyes. “Last thing I remember is Kyle going crazy, and I– I got all burnt–”

“Yes, you’re going to be okay. We’ve administered lots of injections, topical ointments, everything that boosts your healing. You might have some scarring after this is all over, but no injuries. You’re very lucky, Angel.” Hank comforts you, and encourages you to lie back.  

“Lucky. Is that what you’d call a girl with a fucked up state of mind?” You murmur, and Hank shakes his head.

“We’re all fucked up.” Hank gets back up, leaving you in your room. “It’s a prerogative to being in the X-Men.”

You smile softly at that. He’s not wrong, but you wish, you really wish you could’ve just been that normal girl that your parents would’ve loved.

You look down at yourself. You’re wearing hospital scrubs, but there’s an unfamiliar fabric underneath the blanket.

Logan’s flannel is splayed across your stomach, a comforting, soft feeling that has you missing him almost instantly. Had he visited you, when you were unconscious, and decided to leave you this as a token, to help you feel at home? 

You lift it up, taking a deep smell of Logan’s signature scent– pinewood, smoke, and something kind of sweet, like… marshmallows? 

It makes you blush, but almost immediately after, you place the flannel back under the blanket. Logan doesn’t need your silly crush, your overt attachment, and you’re smart enough to keep that to yourself.

/

Logan hears from Hank that you’re awake, and although he wonders why Hank told him first, rather than Charles, or Jean, he’s glad to be the first one to see you.

“Hey.” He knocks on your door. To Logan’s surprise, he lets go of a breath he was holding– you don’t look horrific, you have some colour in your face, and there’s a soft smile on your lips when you see him.

You look just like Angel. His best friend. And he comes in real close, ruffling your hair as he often does, maybe more gentle because he doesn’t want to add any more pain.

“Hey, Logan.” You grab his hand, squeezing it with warmth, grateful to see him, before letting go suddenly and looking away bashfully, and he pauses, reminding himself not to think too highly of it.

“Angel. You’re feeling better?” He asks, and you motion for him to sit down on the edge of your bed.

“Yeah. Yeah, I feel okay.” You stare at him. It’s only been a few days, but Logan looks kind of awful– he’s got some serious dark under-eye bags going on, and stubble that is slowly turning into a beard, and there’s an apparent worry on his face that makes you just want to comfort him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Logan tries to ward off your answer with a stern, one word reply, but you’re not having it.

“Really? You don’t look so great.” You say, not without tact. “I hope you weren’t all cooped up in your room, worrying about me.”

Logan makes a sound that’s half way between a sigh, and a laugh at how close you always seem to get to the truth.

“Alright, yeah. Yeah, I was worried to hell about you. Is that what you wanted to hear?” He jokes, but your face falls.

“You don’t have to do that. I’m good now, I don’t…” There’s an air of seriousness coming from you, that Logan doesn’t typically see, something you usually don’t let yourself do. 

“Are you good? Let me see your back, Angel–” Before Logan can even move you to the side, you turn in defiance, letting him see that you are healing. There are still parts of your flesh, red and angry, but for the most part it seems okay, already far better than it was a couple days ago.

Logan breathes a sigh of relief, touching your wings with a tenderness that has you leaning into his touch, and he gently skims over a scar of yours, glad to see that you’re genuinely not as hurt as he thought– but you pull away quite quickly.

“See? You don’t need to care so much, I’m fine.” You sound accidentally very accusatory, but Logan is just as much of a stubborn asshole as you are sometimes, and he narrows his eyes.

“What the fuck does that mean?” He stares at you. “We’re friends, aren��t we? Friends care about each other. Jesus, you’re the one who always– you’re always checking up on me, sneaking into my room, touching my face and arms and– how else am I supposed to take that?”

It sounds romantic, Logan realizes, after he’s spit all that out– and it does sound like he’s putting the blame of your dynamic on you. And, even worse, it’s all just out there in the open.

“Really. I’m not the only one who cares, Logan, you…” You shake your head, and instead pull his flannel out from under the blanket. “You left this for me. Why do you make it sound like it’s all just me?”

“Okay, fine, it isn’t. Leave it alone, Angel.” Logan pleads a little, his face turning red.

“You’re always acting like I’m gorgeous, you constantly hug me and lean into me, there was that time you let me sleep on top of you–” You continue, feeling more and more confused. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you sound like an asshole.”

Logan blinks, feeling the argument dissipate, as it often does, whenever you get close to confronting each other about feelings– you always manage to fly away.

He won’t let you, not this time.

“You didn’t. I am an asshole– I’ve never bothered to tell you how I feel.” Logan mutters, and the way your face blanches in fear, shyness, tells him to keep going, to push the boundaries. “I let my own stupid ego get in the way of actually caring about you, and I’m not going to make that mistake again. I’ve always– I really love you, Angel. And I’m sorry I never made you feel like that was true, I’m sorry that it’s taken until you got hurt for it to be real.”

You have an incredulous look on your face, one Logan wishes he could take a picture of and frame somewhere, because it’s genuinely funny, but then your lip quivers, and he feels like an asshole again.

You feel like an idiot. You think, all this time, what’s bothered you is that you’ve been avoiding the fire– the real ones, sure, but more the things your mother fostered in you. Your trust issues, the way how you hold people dearly in your heart but you can’t let them get close because you worry you’ll never be enough, it’s all been burning for years inside you, and you’ve never had to confront it until Logan decided to stoke the flames.

“It’s always been real for me, too.” You whisper, trying not to cry. “I just… I don’t always believe if people care about me, I never feel good enough to be something for anyone. It’s not you, Logan, it’s my mom, my upbringing, really.”

You give him a short, brief explanation of what your mom did– something you’ll surely expand on later, when it’s not so fresh, when you haven’t been literally burned recently, and the memories pain you more than ever– and Logan’s face turns sharp, his brows furrow, he’s clearly deeply angry by whatever you’ve just told him. 

“I’m stupid. I just assumed– it was me putting too much pressure on you. You shouldn’t have been on this mission, that’s fucking awful.” He finally says, and then scowls. “I know you don’t want to hear it right now, but fuck that lady.”

You snort at that. “Yeah. Yeah, it was never you– I’ve always loved you too, Logan, more than you know. I’m sorry I’m always running from you.”

“Oh, so you’re consciously doing that?” He teases, trying not to react too much to your proclamation of love for him, although his brain feels as if it’s short-circuited. He squeezes your hand, and you laugh.

“Yup. I’m almost glad I got hurt, if it makes us more serious.” You comment, but Logan turns glum at that.

“Don’t say that, Angel. I still feel bad about it.” Logan holds your face, caressing your cheeks, staring into your eyes, glad now that you’re not going to shove him away. “Next time, I’ll try to take the hits. I’ll live.”

“You don’t have to–” Before you can start rejecting Logan’s offer, he leans in really close, almost kissing you but not quite, his breath hot on your own mouth.

“I want you to live.” He murmurs, and you feel yourself turn warm at that. 

When he presses his lips to yours, it’s almost chaste, because Logan still isn’t sure how many of your walls he can break down in one day– but for once you’re quick to act in the opposite direction now, lifting tubes out of your arm (irresponsible as hell, Logan would say later on) so you can better reach his face, and you run your fingers through his hair as you kiss him, again, and again. 

It’s soft, pliant, and warm, and Logan doesn’t quite know what to say when you come back up for air, breathing deeply, body sweaty from both recovery and how intense this is– he feels around you, around your waist as he leans in again, and you giggle, pulling away for just a moment before kissing him again.

His hands are gentle, skimming over your body without trying to hurt the burns on your back– but Logan feels you clamber onto him, onto his lap, and then he feels the soft feathers of your wings as they pull themselves outward, into the open.

He opens his eyes, and grins in a wolfish manner. Maybe you’ve been changed by what happened, maybe you aren’t the same, but you’re his Angel now, and he prefers that.

He kisses you again.

[the-palelady]

listen. if you don’t like sabrina carpenter that’s fine, but that woman’s outfits are so stunning and i can just imagine ghost going absolutely mad seeing you in them.

especially in something like THIS. that man would go absolutely fucking feral.

normally he would be ripping your cute little outfits and lingerie at the seams, but oh no, not this one. the baby blue just looked so perfect, hugging your curves in all the right places. he had to keep this outfit safe no matter the cost.

one night, you slip it on right before he comes home from work, and set yourself up all pretty for him. your hair fanning out across your face, skin glowing, an angel amongst a sea of blankets and pillows right there on top of his bed.

simon’s angel.

and oh he is on his knees for you.

he’d worship every last inch of your body. those perfect, round tits that he’d suck into his mouth eagerly. he’d kiss down the plump of your tummy, the dip of your hips, until he’s nestled in between your legs.

he’d kiss along your inner thighs, moving his thumb up to rub at your sensitive nub, your back arching up into him, whining out his name like the pretty little thing you were.

simon would take his time with you. always does. he doesn’t want to hurt his girl when he finally does settle himself in between your legs, his cock heavy and sliding against your folds. the lingerie is still on, panties tugged to the side around his thumb.

“all this for me?” he’d ask in that deep, loving voice, reserved only for you. strands of his golden hair, that have grown out a bit more than usual, stick to his forehead. a handsome grin is plastered along his scarred face, lust filled eyes gleam down at you and you’d whine.

god you loved him so much.

and he’d let you know he felt the same, wrapping his hands around the curve of your waist while he pressed himself into you. pressed himself into heaven.

“look at ya. so pretty.” you swear you hear him whine.

“takin’ me so well like a good girl.” this time you whine.

his thumb comes up to rub at your clit again while he pistons into you relentlessly. his tip hits that sweet spot so deep inside that you see stars and he backs off for a moment before hitting it over and over again.

your moans only encourage him further, his free hand roaming you like he can’t keep off of you, can’t get enough of you.

he grabs your jaw, your lips pursing from his grip. simon looks down at you with an expression so feral you could have orgasmed from that alone.

“gunna fill ya fulla me, sweet’art, that alright?”

you whine and beg for him.

yes. please, simon. inside, please.

“sing for me, angel. i wanna hear tha pretty voice.”

and you do sing for him. his name falling from your lips like a hymn, a gentle song only meant for his ears. simon can’t help but hold onto you tighter, gruff hands digging into the meat of your hips as you clench around him so tight he feels dizzy.

and he all but loses his damn mind, fucking you into the mattress despite how overstimulated you are. tears stain your pink cheeks and he thumbs them away, pressing into you so far you can feel him in your guts.

simon’s rambling, his forehead pressing into your temple as you cry out, your tears dampening his cheeks.

“ya look like a fucking goddess in this damn outfit. so beautiful. dunno wha tha fuck i did in my past life, but damned brute like me doesn’t deserve ya.”

he won’t stop talking. it’s all so much, yet the praise is sending you over the moon. your skin is on fire where his thrusts meet your ass, and you know there will be purple hand shaped bruises blooming along the expanse of your body when the morning comes.

“fuckkk,” his hips stutter slightly, your core becoming tight as he pulls himself completely out and slams himself right back to the hilt continuously.

“gunna breed this pretty pussy,” and you clench around him so fucking tight he almost collapses, a guttural moan escaping his chapped lips.

“ya like that, baby? want me to make ya a mummy?”

your back arches and you scream for him, white consuming your vision. simon’s hands grab ahold of your plump thighs and his hips roll down into you one last time. he twitches inside of your warmth while his spend coats your velvety walls. his arms reach up to wrap around your torso that’s still arched, his forehead pressing into your ribs as he catches his breath.

you both sit this way for a while, until he regains his composure and lowers your tired body back down to the bed.

when he sits up right your eyes are closed, long lashes tickling the apples of your blushing cheeks. your breathing is even now, and your skin is somehow glowing even more than it was when he first walked in. your hair cascades out around you like a wave. his palm hesitantly glides up along your tummy as if taboo. as if someone like him was undeserving of someone as soft as you.

and simon swears when he looks up at you, taking you in completely, he sees the glow of a halo above your head and a pair of angel wings nestled against the silk sheets of the bed beneath you.

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Coffee

Azriel x Reader - Angst

Azriel runs into his ex at the market.

I'll meet you for coffee, only for coffee

“Y/N” the timbre of his voice sends a dagger disguised as delicate winged butterflies fluttering through my stomach.

“Azriel”

Amber-hued eyes look down upon me, into the depths of my weary soul and I already know I can’t do this. But I’ll entertain it. I always do.

“How are you, Angel?”

“I’m fine.” I’m always fine. Never lost and weary. Never wondering what I could have done differently, what I could have done to make him love me. No, I’m level-headed and I am perfectly fine.

“Good. How’s the family?”

“They’re good. Claren got into Adriata U on a scholarship. Yours?” His family. The elite inner circle of the Night Court.

“Good. Rhys and Feyre have a son now, Nyx. He’s everything good in this world.”

I smile softly. “Yeah, I heard about the princeling. I can imagine that all of you are wrapped around his finger”

“Yeah.”

So let's not do coffee, let's not even try

We stand there. Those gods damned hazel eyes bore into mine like a screw. He sees everything. He always did. Nobody got me. Gods, nobody gets me, like him.

“Hey,“ Azriel’s soft, deep voice interrupts my thoughts. “Sevenda’s has-“

“No Az.”

He falters. “Y/N-“

It's better we leave it and give it some time

“No, love.” We can’t go there. He knows it. I know it too. We’d done that before. Dinner with the inner circle. I never fit in with them. They were a lovely close knit family and I was a stray… the outlier- even in this supposed “found family” of bastards and outcasts.

Azriel lets out a sigh, those piercing eyes tempting me to give in. To give it another try.

“How about that cabaret on the Sidra? You always loved it there.”

I love the cabaret, the energy, the drinks. Gods, the drinks. The wine would flow and I’d be in Azriel’s strong, welcoming arms in no time. He’d insist on walking me home, ever the gentleman. He’d say he wanted me. I’d know it’s a lie. It’s always a lie. I’m not a graceful overcomer like Gwyn. I’m not demure and kind like Elain. I’m certainly not strong and resilient like Morrigan.

If I didn't love you, it would be fine

I’m just… me.

And he’s just…. Lonely.

“I should go.”

A strong scarred hand grasps my forearm, an inherent dominance that somehow comes off delicate. It’s alluring, the hands you wish would hold you all your life.

“Coffee?” He asks.

We could do that. Coffee doesn’t lead to sex. Wine leads to my clothes on his floor, his deft fingers reverently tracing the arch of my spine.

“Yeah, we could-“

Cause If we do coffee, it's never just coffee

There it is. The hunger. The desire to feel. I see it. I once thought that gaze was a need for me. But it’s a lonely male who can love you like a mate, and then discard you like a mistake.

He’s not mine.

And maybe, if I didn’t love him, we could have done coffee.

“I’ll see you around, Az.”

It's never just coffee

—————————————

Tags:

ACOTAR General - @lilah-asteria @thecollegecowgirl @mochibabycakes @nickishadow139

[madamechrissy]

Dirty Little Secret

ꕥ Pairings: Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader

ꕥ Warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, dirty talk, Toji calls reader 'doll, ma, slut (Toji and Doll just work lol) Age gap- reader is 21, Toji is 39. - This chapter-rough sex, anal play, daddy kink, deep throating, oral (both receiving)

ꕥ Word Count- 8.5k

ꕥ Summary- Toji Fushiguro is your dad Shiu's best friend for years. You've known him most your life. You come home for spring break to relax, and who pops up at the fucking doorstep? Toji. He's nasty, annoying, perverted and... Sexy. Hot. Built. And makes you think, maybe your first time shouldn't be with some college boy? But with this buff dude who can tie a cherry stem with his tongue and a scar on his damn lip.

Chapter 8 - Masterlist - Playlist

Chapter 9

You blink sleepily, opening your eyes to watch the sun filter through the blinds of the hotel room, and you feel a light caressing down your tummy. Your eyes shut again, as you feel strong arms around you, as you feel one of his heavy, muscled thighs shoved firm between your plush ones. He’s pressing up as he pushes on your hip, pressing that thigh up.

You whimper in pleasure, as you’re growing hot against him, and he moans softly, kissing your neck and pressing you tighter against him. Your hand reaches for his own, entwining your fingers and bringing it to your lips, kissing the scarred, rough hand, one you really didn’t know enough about. All you know is you love them, his big rough hands in yours.

Toji exhales softly, tickling your neck, then he’s got you flipped on top of him, and you look down at his handsome face, tracing a fingertip down his scar, as your hair falls like a curtain on the side of your face. Toji reaches up, grabbing your hips and pressing you down, and you cry out as you feel his length against you, pressing right between your lips.

“T-Toji…” You whisper, your voice still sleepy, crying out when he’s got your tits in his hands, over his soft white shirt you’d slept in.

“Beautiful, doll, waking up to this? M’fucking dreaming.” His husky morning voice breaks you completely, as does how his dark lashes lower over those mossy green eyes, and you kiss his forehead softly, then his cheeks, pecking kisses everywhere you could see.

“I thought last night was a dream.” You whisper, grinding on him then, making him tense, growing harder against you under his sweats. “But, you’re here.”

“I’m here, doll. Right… here…” He presses up again, dragging you against his length again then it’s too much, you’re yanking off his shirt, then sliding down, pulling down his slutty ass gray sweats, and he’s sucking in a breath, his ab muscles tensing as you go lower. “Doll…”

“Want you in my throat.” You whisper, looking at him then, his eyes narrowed, vermillion lips parted as you pull his thick cock out, stroking it from that base of curly dark hair up to his leaky red tip, lapping it up with your tongue.

“Fuck…” He hisses then, as you suckle right at that little line, where pre cum is pouring out, and he grips your hair in his big hands, snapping his hips up, shoving that cock all the way in your mouth. “You’re the death of me, too fuckin good at it.”

“Mmm…” Is all you can manage as you’re sucking him, stroking your hands in little twists up and down his length, he twitches in your mouth, and your eyes lock. He is pulling your hair so hard it’s pricking little tears in your eyes, and you’re drooling all over him as you watch him fall apart for you.

Toji, big strong Toji, is reduced to a mess as you work him, as you taste his sweat, and you like it, you love his salty precum, you’d suck it all day. Everything about him, as he’s now groaning so sexy, shoving your face down on his cock now, deeper, and you breathe through your nostrils, taking him as deep as you can. Your nose pressed against his pelvis before he yanks you off.

“Get up here, now.” He orders, and you giggle a bit, shaking your head and looking right at him, batting your lashes.

“No, daddy I’m having fun.” He narrows those eyes, jaw tensing, then on your lick up the veins of his thick cock he’s got you flipped under him, shoving two fingers in your eager, slick entry, making you scream out. “T-Toji!”

“Nuh uh.” He smacks your little cunt, and you hiss and the sting, blinking rapidly as you try to gain your senses.

“Daddy.”

“Mmhmm, what do you want, fuckin brat?” He smacks your cunt again, before sliding two fingers back in, and your wetness makes the lewdest noises as he scissors his thick digits inside you.

“Wanted to- ah- suck you off. Dick. Ow!” Now he’s smacked your cunt again, hard this time. “Daddy.”

“You’re such a fucking brat, swear ya don’t learn do ya?” You just smirk now, earning a playful glare.

“I’m a slow learner, daddy, I’m sorry.” You reach down to stroke his sensitive cock again, giggling like crazy when he’s got your wrist in a brutal grip.

“You’re psycho I swear.” He grumbles, then he’s lifted your leg, dragging you by your hips, lining his cock up, and you feel his tip pressing just into that tight ring of muscles, and fuck if you’re not close from just that. He exhales, cupping your face gently for a moment, studying you. “Tell me what you want, doll. Words.”

“Want you in me, daddy. Please. Ngh!” You scream out then, gasping as he slides his thick length to the fucking hilt, and he’s tense above you, face contorted in pleasure.

“Oh fuck .” He’s sliding out, his hips snapping up then as he shoves his entire length inside, making your body rock, pleasure coursing through your entire body.

You love it, you love this, love the way he’s holding your hips tight and bruising with one hand, as his other delicately holds your jaw. As he’s giving you long, hard strokes, but they’re slow , they’re intimate. You love feeling him, rolling up your hips and gasping, as his cock is sliding nearly all the way out before he thrusts back in, your cunt gripping him like a vise.

“Fuck me harder, Daddy, harder please...” You scream out, your walls tightening around him and he’s groaning like he’s in pain, those abs of his flexing, his chest flushing with his exertion, cheeks reddened as he huffs over you.

“You’re a little whore f’me, ya fuckin know that?” He says with a smirk, and you just nod, loving it when he calls you names. “ My whore, my slut, my little fuck doll.”

His possessiveness kills you, along with his nasty fucking words, and you’re even wetter around him, whining when he rolls those talented hips, his cock dragging against your walls. “Y-yes, Daddy, yours .” You repeat, and he’s sliding in and out of you, fucking you so good, so deep it’s unreal.

You’re shaking, as he grows sweaty working over you, now he leans back, spreading your thighs, and he’s got his thumb pressing right on your clit, pressing down as he’s fucking you, and you feel your climax close as he rubs it, he knows just where, just what pressure. Your eyes roll back as he’s got a leg up on his chest, kissing down your calf, down your ankle.

His tongue slips to your toes, making you squeal, and he grins. “You’re… s’nasty… Toji….”

“You fuckin love it, little slut.” You just nod, whining when he bites the thin skin of your ankle. “Cum all over Daddy’s cock, doll. Lemme feel that tight fuckin cunt soak my cock.”

You obey, of course you do, how can you not when Toji Fushiguro’s thick cock is shoving deep inside, stretching your little hole, when his rough pad of that thumb rubs your clit just so. When he’s looking at you like that? Of course you cum, shattering around him, losing vision as you gush all over, and he’s groaning, gripping your leg so tight it will bruise.

You whine out, gasping, and his head falls back, so fucking sexy, as you watch that Adam’s apple bob up and down under dark stubble, and he’s feeling you pulse around his length, that weeping tip dragging on your spot. He’s moaning now, shoving his thumb in your mouth.

“Taste that, little slut. Taste how wet ya get f’me.” You eagerly suck on that thumb, and he’s moaning now, coming to lay on you, his heavy weight so perfect on your body, now he’s fucking even harder, on hand on the side of your head, inky black hair falling over a brow.

He’s making you feel like you’re going to break, and your nails are digging into his shoulders, leaving half moons as you try to hold on. He’s slamming his lips against yours now, and drinking your cries, pumping harder and harder in your already sore cunt, and you tremble as you feel yourself close again, as each stroke sends you higher.

“Let me feel that sweet cunt milk me dry, let me hear you scream f’me.” He’s grunting it out now, as your walls clamping down so hard around him, his cock jolts in response. “It’s just us.”

“Just- us- ah! Daddy! ” You scream out now, and he groans right with you, as you let go of anything and everything, letting Toji fuck you stupid. He’s gripping your waist with his rough hands, and your eyes lock. Yours are cock drunk off him, your brows drawing together, struggling to focus as you’re pulled higher and higher.

“Ready f’me? Can you take- ah- all of it?” You nod, and he slams his lips on yours then, shoving up so deep you feel him in your stomach, feel him fucking everywhere, then he’s fucking with hard slaps, so rough it’s painful, but you love it. “Feel me fuckin your guts up, huh?”

“Sh-shut up… Toji. Mnh!” You’ve earned a light smack on your pretty face, then Toji’s hand wrapped around your throat.

“Bratty lil fuckin’ mouth. You shouldn’t be able to- ha- talk.” You’re dying now, as he’s choking you so hard, and wrecking your cunt, rubbing those sore walls raw, but you want him to. Feeling like Toji will split you in two is indescribable.

You can’t speak anymore, your eyes have rolled back, your mouth is stupidly open and your little tongue is lolling out, and Toji’s looking at you as he’s squeezing, as he’s fucking you, as he’s owning you. You are getting fuzzier and fuzzier, as he takes your oxygen, his own face contorted in pleasure, veins popping out of his neck, which you eagerly grip with limp hands.

Then he’s cumming, and so are you, his loud moan mixing with your broken whimper, as it’s fading to black while you’re shattering, cumming so hard it hurts, filled with Toji’s white cum. It’s coating your walls, his cock is pulsing more and more, so much it’s fucking stupid, and you’re gushing it all back out and down him, cumming so hard you’re convulsing.

He finally releases your throat, and you struggle to breathe, holding your throat and coughing then, as you greedily suck up the air he’d prevented. Then he’s kissing you again, and there’s no hope to catch that breath, not when he is utterly taking over your body and mind.

“Stupid f’me. Huh, doll?” He huffs, pulling out now, and his cum and your arousal slide and drip out of your sore little cunt. You whine at the sensation, at how sore you really are, and he’s softly rubbing the neck he’d left two hand prints on.

“You’re s-stupid.” You choke out, making him glare again, and you manage a breathy giggle, before he’s got you spun, on your knees now, whacking your ass so loud it reverberates in the room. “Ah! Ah, fuck !” You cry out, and he’s not going easy either, he’s thwacking you so good there’s welps.

“Ya done running that pretty mouth?” You nod weakly, and then bury your head in the bed, soft blankets making your already heated face even hotter, when he’s shoving the cum that’s poured back in your cunt. “Say sorry, be a good girl f’me.”

“Sorry, daddy, I am.” You look back and pout at him, viewing that sight behind you, his eyes locked on your pussy, his entire body glistening with sweat, enhancing every muscle he has.

“Good girl, let daddy take care of her.” He’s sinking off the bed on his knees now, and when you feel his tongue slide between your juicy lips of your cunt, lapping his own cum off you, you scream at it. “Fuck we taste good together.”

“Sensitive, daddy, ngh!” He’s humming against you, his big hands grabbing your ass and dragging it to his face, his chin is on your clit as he drinks both of your cum greedily out of your hole. “Ah! Fuck!”

“Mmmh, ya taste so good doll, I need you cumming again.”

You shiver, your cunt is somehow still soaked for this man and you can’t fathom how you have that much pouring out ( stay hydrated, reader ) but Toji is now fucking you with his tongue, taking it all down his throat, and you’re arching back, stupid mouth open again, eyes slamming shut as the pleasure works through you. You’re cumming again, you’ve lost count, you’re barely clinging on.

Once he’s lavved you clean, humming his satisfaction, his cock is sliding against you again, and you tense, hips jerking back. “Toji, my pussy hurts, I can’t go another round.”

“Can’t fuckin take dick, huh?”

“You left for months, so no , I cannot.” You turn and stick your tongue out, earning another smack that jerks your entire body.

“I haven’t had enough of ya, I need you to get that shit stamina in check.”

“Me!? Listen it hurts, your dick is huge and you’re not gentle shithead.”

“Shithead huh!?”

“Mmhmm! Ow!”

“Thought ya loved me, now I’m a shithead?” You giggle breathlessly, sinking your head on your arms, exhaling.

“I do love you, but you’re a shithead. Mmnh. Toji even eating me out is too much right now, I can only cum so much.” He’s back to licking you like a fiend, as if your pussy is the only thing that will fill him up and he’s starved. Then he flicks up, and you gasp when he’s got his tongue on that little hole. “Toji, don’t lick there!?”

“Why not, don’t like it?” He does it again, making you shiver in pleasure.

“I do, but that’s…”

“Nasty?”

“Mmhmm!”

“Doll, I’m nasty as fuck.” He’s doing it again, burying his face between your cheeks now, and that stubble scratches as his tongue flicks.

“Don’t- you- ah!- need to see… Megumi?”

“I’ll see him after I’m done with you. For at least a few.” He’s fingering your ass then and you’re screaming out at how good it feels, as his other fingers find your clit and press. “You like it, don’t ya doll?”

“S’good but… freaky fucking… Toji! Mnph! Did you just spit on it!?”

“I love spitting on you.” You shiver as he spreads the sticky spit all over your ass, plunging his thick finger back in, the burn makes you hiss, his other hand is now pulling at your hair, bringing you up to your knees in front of him. “Should let me take it first in all your fuckin holes.”

“Nasty… man, ngh…” He’s smirking right at you, as your eyes are fluttering shut from the stupid amount of sensations being pulled with expert, nasty fucking fingers.

“Not now then, scared little brat.”

“Not scared!”

“Mmhmm.” He eases his fingers out, stopping that insane pressure. “We’ll go spend time with Megumi, then.”

“We!? You mean you.”

“Nah, he needs to spend time with his step mom.” He’s grinning bright and white as you smack at him, turning and shoving his stupidly strong body.

“You stop that shit. So full of it.” You huff, blowing your hair out of your face while he’s got you in a tight hold.

“Think I’m full of it?” You nod with a glare. “Why, what’s wrong with the idea of being a stepmom?”

“We’d have to be married, idiot.”

“And.”

You blink then, confusion washing through you, and before you can demand he stop being so stupid , he has decided to slam a kiss on your lips, slack and open. You yank back. “Toji don’t say shit like that, I’m already fucked up enough from you. You’d never marry again, and I already know that.”

“I know I said that before. But…” He tilts your chin up, and his gaze is so easy to fall into, to lose yourself in, this man who’d just drank his cum out of you and smacked your ass so hard it’s burning. This man who’d just had a finger in your ass and even lapped at your toes. He’s somehow… sweet, genuine, loving.

You shake your head at the suggestion, at his look, your own eyes darting away, lashes lowering over them. “Don’t say that, don’t.”

“Think I wouldn’t, brat?”

“I know you wouldn’t. Let’s just… get ready.” You shove off him, you can’t have your heart anymore crushed than it would be when he leaves again, or when your dad finds out, fuck when everyone finds out.

How is there some future of a happy wedding and baby for you two?

And the agony of not believing it’s existence has you in tears.

“Doll… you too young for it?” He asks, suddenly holding your shoulders, and you exhale, shaking your head.

“That’s not it. It’s just, I can’t even think like that. I just wanna have fun with you while you’re here. I know it won’t be long.”

“I’ll keep seeing ya, doll, and bring you home to me on-”

“On breaks? What would I tell dad?”

He sighs, looking away then, running a hand through that shiny black hair. “You’re the rational one now!?”

“I guess fucking so. But… Toji?” He looks at you, his jaw tense, as you wrap your arms around him. “I don’t care, I’ll wait for the once every couple of months to fuck you. I won’t be with anyone else. I’m too ruined now.”

“Doll…” You’re tracing that cleft on his chin with your fingertip, and shut his mouth with a finger. “I want more than-”

“Shh. Don’t give me so much hope. Just kisses.” You’re yanking him down, and his hands grip you everywhere, until he lifts you, slamming you into the wall, and fuck if you won’t go again, even as your little cunt just hates you, no you’d push yourself to be consumed.

“I want more than that. Making me fsay it. Have me a whiny little bitch lately.” He speaks between kisses, as you both lose your breath. You taste his cum and yours on his tongue, that nasty, wicked tongue that annihilates any sense you have. “More than… that.”

“More?” He nods, gulping, and now you’re wrapped around him, legs around his lean hips, your arms around his strong neck, he holds you in his huge hands, and you feel your cunt throbbing as he’s pressing against you.

“Not just more sex. More you, doll.” You blink back tears then, and his face softens, a hand sliding up to cup it gently, delicately holding on and just watching you now. “More of you.”

“Toji… how…”

“Just come with me.”

“Toji I can’t! That’s selfish to ask. Sorry college, I need Toji’s dick.”

He grins at that, white teeth glinting, mischievous fucking look in those dark green eyes. “Ay, it’s good dick though.”

“Facts. But. No.”

“Ugh. Killing me. Okay, summer is coming, spend the summer with me? Ya got classes?”

“I have a three week break. Maybe I could be convinced to stay at a pervy old man’s house.” You whisper, trailing your fingers down his hard body, and smirking up at his angry scowl.

“You’re the one saying ‘oh no more, ow’ and I’m old?”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.” You both glare, then you’re just kissing each other again, and he’s holding you like you’re nothing, as you dangle in the damn air, clinging to him, breathless. “Stubborn fuckin brat.”

“You love it, don’t you?” You nip his lower lip, then he pulls back a bit to study you, eyes committing you to memory.

“I love you, even if you’re a bratty little bitch.”

“Bitch!”

“Yep.”

“Asshole.” He smirks at you, and you’re kissing again, fuck will you ever get enough of this?

“Keep kissing me and we’re fuckin again, doll.”

“I can’t! She needs rest.”

“Rest. She got two months of that.” He rolls his eyes at you, then you’re cleaning up in the bathroom, and it’s oddly easy to be with Toji alone. He’s fixing his messy hair, putting on deodorant, and you’re using his toothbrush, then washing your face.

“Shit, Toji I looked like a racoon this whole time!?”

“You’re a sexy raccoon.” You smack him now, his big hands are gripping your hips, as he stares at you in the mirror, kissing down the side of your head. “Look how good you look in my arms, ma. Too pretty f’me.”

“Okay, Insta baddie.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Thousands of likes on one fuzzy ass picture!”

“Aw, my doll is jealous. I don’t want any of them, I want you , every bit of you, too.” He’s squishing your breasts now, and you are hopelessly leaning your head back, moaning softly at how good it feels. “Perfect tits. Perfect body.” His hands slide down the nip of your waist, the jut of your hips, around to your tummy, as he touches you everywhere with those big hands.

“We’ll never get anywhere if you start again. Don’t you wanna see Megumi?” He sighs, his brows low as he bites your throat. “You’ll give me more hickeys!”

“Good, they need to know who this belongs to.”

“This!? Am I some object or something you have some claim to?”

“Mmhmm, my toy, my doll. Just f’me.” He’s biting again, and you throw down the brush then, it clatters to the floor, as he’s pressing that hard cock against your back, and his touches are making your sore little cunt ache more.

“T-toji, fucking stop. Mmnh.” Your eyes close as you enjoy his touch far too much. “You need to spend time with your son.”

“Spending time with my baby mama.”

“Toji!”

“Oh fine.” He rolls his eyes at you, before pressing on your stomach, humming to himself.

“Stop thinking about putting babies in me, old man.” You turn, patting his cheek, leaning up to plant a kiss on his chin. “Go see Megumi.”

“I’ll pick you up tonight.” Your hands slide down his strong arms, fingers caressing his muscles, feeling the sinewy lines under your fingertips.

“You even gonna ask me, old man?” He smirks down at you, tilting your chin up with two fingers.

“Nah you want it. Don’t ya, pretty doll?” Your lashes lower, as he pulls you flush against his bare chest with his other hand, you feel his body heat radiating through you. “Ah-ah, look at me with those pretty eyes.”

“You’re awfully sweet. Usually such a jerk.” You do look up at him, as his lips part, then he sighs, caressing your cheek before he’s brushing back your hair.

“Fine I’ll ask nicely, since you’re such a brat. Will you stay another night? Before I have to leave.” Your heart starts to hurt now as you think of how he’s going to leave you, it sinks in your stomach, and it’s clearly reflected on your face, he frowns a bit now as you tense in his hold. “I’m not going to just dip the fuck off. I promise.”

“It’s hard to believe, that's all.” You feel little tears slipping down your cheeks, ones he swipes away with a serious set to his features. “I don’t blame you, Toji, it just really hurt.”

“I know doll, c’mere.” He pulls you against him, hugging you tightly, and you inhale that scent you’ve missed so much once more. “Making me soft. Embarrassing is what it is.”

“No, it’s just who you are deep down. Beneath all that aggressive bullshit. I love when you open up.”

“When I open up those thighs?”

“Toji Fushiguro!”

He’s just chuckling, and how his eyes crinkle in those corners, how that scar you now peck a kiss on stretches, fuck you’re in love, and terrified. “Sure you don’t wanna come, you’re gonna be a shit step mom to Megumi. He already had a shit dad.”

“You stop that. Go be a good dad for me , and I’ll call you daddy later, mmkay?” His eyes get lidded, and you feel him getting hard against your tummy. “Not right now old man, let’s go.”

*****

Three weeks later

“Fuck I miss ya, doll.” Toji murmurs on the phone, and you turn over to your side, sighing then, Toji calls you every night, and texts you all day. He has surprised you by sending things to your dorm, no flowers or anything. Vibrators.

Yeah.

Toji’s nasty.

Usually you would use those toys and he’d listen, or you’d send him videos, earning his hard cock with cum all over it in an image as a reward, but it was honestly torture. You toss and turn constantly, missing being filled by him, and now missing being held in his arms.

“Two more days, old man. Can you wait that long?” You ask softly, and he just exhales again, fuck you’re getting turned on by his breathing.

“I want you to stay longer than two weeks, that’s what I want.”

“Toji, I already promised dad a week. That would look awful. Plus, I miss him…” Toji sighs again. “That’s three sighs, old man.”

“I hate you not being with me. I gotta worry what college boy is staring at that ass, the one that belongs t’me.” You smile then, looking at your phone and requesting a video chat. “What’s that?”

“Facetime, old man. Accept it.” Soon Toji’s on the video, and your heart is thumping out of your chest, as you strip down your top, revealing your breasts that bounce gently as they’re released. He moans, setting you down now, and you watch as he’s grabbing for his cock under white sweats. “Miss them?”

“Askin’ dumb fuckin questions, doll. How are they even nicer? How?” You play with them gently, teasing him as you lean close to the phone camera. “I’ll come get ya early.”

“No, play with that cock for me, Daddy , I really wanna see.” You beg with a pout now, and you watch him eagerly, his hand stroking his huge cock up to the leaky tip and down to the base. Your pussy starts throbbing, already getting wet as you see him.

“Wanna suck on those pretty titties, wanna fuckin taste ya again.” You whine now, positioning yourself so that your thighs are spread, as you slide your panties down right in front of him. His moans reverberate through your body, until you can’t take it, it’s like torture not touching him. “Mnh, you want me to fill ya up again, don’t ya?”

“Ugh… yes, I do. This is the worst.” You lean back, watching him watch you, biting your lower lip while your own hand sliding down your stomach, over your bare mound, to your clit, rubbing it gently. You cry out at the touch.

“Spread them f’me. Lemme see all of that perfect cunt.” You do as he said, and watch him stroking that cock faster as he looks at you. “Oh yeah, doll, just like that, get yourself ready for me, you’re gonna get that cock so good when you're here.”

“Want you now.” You whisper, sliding a finger into your pussy, pulling out a stupid amount of wetness, his eyes are glued to your screen, watching as you play with yourself. “Look how wet I am for you, Daddy. Mmnh, so wet.” You’re rubbing your clit now with the slick you gathered, and your other hand is playing with a nipple, rolling it, pinching it.

“Fucking… this is stupid I’m leaving now.” You giggle a bit. “You can come a couple days early.”

“Toji… f-finals. Can’t.”

“Fuck me.”

“I will soon.” You giggle again, earning his glare through the phone screen now, as he’s stood up, looking down at the camera, and fuck if that angle doesn’t do things to you, like you’re looking up at him, ready to suck him. “Want him in my mouth.”

“Want you on my tongue.”

That makes you even more sensitive, imagining him tasting you right now, his tongue all over you. “Y’know… who needs… mmm, finals.”

“Grab that toy.” You get up and head to the dresser, grabbing the little vibrator you’ve been using from him. “Ah-ah, not that one. Want you to fuck yourself in front of me.”

You’re flushed then, as you hadn’t even taken that out of the box, you look back at the phone now. “I haven’t used one.”

“I know, it’s way smaller than my dick don’t worry.” He’s chuckling, and you roll your eyes, pulling out the little dildo he’d gotten out of the sleek black box finally, your hands trembling a bit as you get back over there, pushing it in bit by bit. Toji’s huffing, gripping his hair tightly, working himself, his abs flex as he moves.

“I’m nervous.” You admit then, pressing the silicon in your entrance, gasping when it fills you.

“That’s it, good girl. You’re being s’good f’me. Ease it in.” You’re shivering while you’re pressing it in even deeper, and your pussy is pulsing around the toy, it feels so different from Toji.

“I don’t like it like you. Want you inside me.”

“I know doll, I know… can you get it any deeper?” 

“No, I don’t… it’s not the same.” You pull it out then push back in, sliding it just a couple inches in and out, then it does start to feel good, but it’s not enough. “Not enough Toji.”

“Push in more, I know ya can. I bottom out in that pussy.” You’re all flushed as you glare at him, and he smirks, your lips ache to kiss that scar at the corner of his mouth. “Balls deep too.”

“Not the same. Mmm.” Your eyes shut as you begin to fuck yourself with it, as Toji’s noises from the back of his throat urge you, then you’re getting wetter. “Daddy… want you.”

“I want you s’fuckin bad it’s stupid. Wanna cum and fill that pussy, it’s only mine, isn’t it?”

“Only… y-yours…” Now his words urge you, the sounds he’s making, seeing him twisting a fist on that cock you want so badly. Your eyes go half lidded as you watch him watch you, your breath coming out in short gasps, your hips bucking. “T-toji, oh my… fuck I…”

“That’s it, doll, take it all like a good girl, I wanna see ya messy, that’s it.” He’s huffing as you’re crying out, as you’re imagining his cock thrusting instead, and soon your eyes shut, head falling back on your little twin mattress.

“Close, close. Need you, need you.” You keep whispering, over and over like a little mantra, now the toy is easily fucking in and out, and you feel yourself raising higher under his watch.

“Cum f’me doll, lemme see.” So you do, your orgasm hits you harder than your usual clit play, your eyes are rolling back, mouth open as you whine out your release. “Mmm, that’s it, cumming for daddy yeah?”

You slide the toy out, legs twitching, as you lean on elbows to watch him through the camera, as he starts to cum now, pumping white and messy from his reddened tip. You lay there, panting, your chest heaving as you watch his eyes shut, him covering his face for a moment, catching his breath. It’s all over his thick muscled thighs, up to his belly button.

“So messy for me.” You tease, earning a scowl, making you giggle at it. “What? I like it. Messy boy.”

“Boy, fuck no.” You watch him clean up now, his abs flexing with the movement, and you’re biting your bottom lip even harder, so hard you feel the skin break, feeling that ache deep in your core again, that need that’s never really satisfied even with the best of the toys.

“Messy man then.” You slide up your little panties, picking up the phone and laying it sideways, resting your head on your hand as you watch him do the same in his own bed. Your fingers trace the phone, wishing more than anything he was here physically.

“You’re too fuckin hot. Keep dreaming of that body, that face when you cum.” You flush at his words, looking down for a moment at those lips. He licks his lower one, darting over that scar.

“I dream of you too, Toji. But more than sex.”

“Didn’t say it was only sex f’me either.”

You’re both silent for a moment, ever since he left, those insane talks about babies and… living together? Marrying? Those weren’t a thing, it was typically purely you both being horny as fuck and playing. Or talking about life, about how you missed each other. But they linger, the things he spoke of.

Would Toji ever be serious like that?

“What’s on that mind, hmm? Should only be my dick.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “It takes over a lot for sure, but I guess there is more in my head than that.”

“Like what?”

“Mmm… it’s something we can talk about soon.”

He looks at you seriously, and now you feel emotion take hold of you, closing in your throat. “You sure doll?”

“Mmhmm. I’m sleepy. Gonna dream that I spank you for being a bad boy.” You snicker at his growl, covering your mouth with your hand as it mixes with a yawn now, your eyes getting heavy.

“That’ll never happen so keep dreaming.”

“Mmm, you love when I ride you though, don’t you?”

“I’m hard again brat. Gonna give it to you so good when I get you.”

“How are you gonna handle the three hour drive then?”

“Your mouth will be on my cock.”

“Oh yeah?” He just grins, that lewd grin, and you find yourself thrilled by the thought of it.

“Don’t worry, when you’re here I’ll eat you out right on my kitchen table. Finest fucking meal.”

“Mnh… Toji….” Now you’re wet, again, your pussy throbbing and practically begging for this damn jerk. Jerk you love. “No more until I see you, it’s literally the worst.”

He smirks at you now. “You would be a pretty little housewife, you know.”

Your eyes roll at that, then narrow. “Toji what do you even do?”

He’s full on grinning now. “Do you really wanna know?”

“Yes. No. Later.”

Soon you’re fading in and out of consciousness, exhaustion pulling at you. Classes and tests, along with all nighters studying, and fitting in time to talk with Toji as much as you can? Kind of exhausting, especially since he wants you to cum damn near every time you talk.

“Sleepy little thing.” He says it tenderly, you think with a muddled mind. “Good night doll.”

“Night Toji. Love you.” You mumble, blinking him into view once more, seeing his eyes blink a bit, as if he’s tired too.

“Love you, doll.”

Fuck his words make you smile, as you fall asleep. You’re so tired you didn’t hang up the phone.

*****

Toji’s headlights pull up, and Megumi, Nobara and Yuji are there, of course they were, and as Toji pulls up your heart stops. It’s been over three weeks, and you’ve missed him so bad you can’t stand it. You clutch your luggage closely to you, it may or may not have Hello Kitty on it.

“It’s the dilf.” Nobara says, sucking a lollipop then, and you cover your face in embarrassment, as does Megumi. Toji laughs, stepping out of the car now, a thin white shirt doing nothing to hide all his muscles, stretching across his chest and cutting off on his biceps.

The dark jeans he’s wearing hug him like a glove, and damn if your eyes weren’t shamelessly drinking in how good he looks. He takes your luggage and smirks at it, you glare. “Don’t say shit.”

He just pecks a kiss on your head, hugging you to him, then putting it in his car, then goes to Megumi, ruffling his spiky black hair. Megumi smacks at his hand. “Missed you kid.” Megumi rolls his dark green eyes, hands in his jeans pockets as he smirks at you.

“You came for her. Don’t even try that shit.”

“I also came to… say hi to you.” He snorts at that, and Toji’s eyes hit you then, draping down your body hungrily.

“Sure dad.”

“Hey dad!” Yuji waves with a grin, and Toji grimaces.

“Ugh you’re callin’ me that too?”

“Want them to call you daddy?” Nobara quips, earning her own glare from Toji Fushiguro.

“I see you can’t stop talkin’ about me, huh, doll?” He says then, and you’re flushed with the look he gives, you want to jump this man, fucking climb him, and also smack him. While fucking him!?

“Not at all.” You bat your lashes innocently, earning an eye roll from him.

“She just says you spit-”

“Yuji! I didn’t even tell you that!?” You smack a hand on his mouth, and now Toji’s grinning like the damn devil he is.

“Well I’m tired of getting left out.” He pouts now all cutely. “Plus, you know I was her first kiss, right?”

Toji cracks his knuckles at that, and Megumi is snickering behind his hand. “Oh shit, you’re gonna get your ass kicked.” Nobara says, giggling as she licks the lollipop again.

“I was just kidding!” He’s waving his arms like mad, as Toji approaches closer, until he dips out into a full run. You pop a hand on Toji’s chest now, your own laughter bubbling up in your chest.

“Don’t beat him up, old man.” You say, and he sighs.

“I’ll take it all out on you tonight then.” He whispers down at you, breath against your lips, drawing your gaze to them, and you can’t help but to step closer, licking your own lower lip in anticipation.

“Yuck! Yuck yuck yuck.” Megumi’s noises barely register, and you clear your throat a bit, stepping back. Toji just looks at him amusedly.

“What? It’s your future step mom.”

“Yuck! Go you two, blegh.” Megumi shivers, waving a hand as he and Nobara go off to find Yuji now, and you’re… alone with Toji. Outside your dorm building.

You’d fuck him right here.

“I missed you, old man.” You slide your hands up, wrapping them around his neck, your breasts pressed on his chest now, making him moan softly, grabbing your ass with two big hands, you squeak at it.

“Missed you, fuckin brat. Talking about my dick hmm?”

“Amongst other things.” You tap on his lips, and he’s got you in his car so quick you blink and you’re there, and he’s already got the car in gear. “How…”

“I can’t wait till we get home. Imma fuck you right here.” He huffs, then he’s pulling over just a bit away, into a dark little parking spot, abandoned this time of evening, when the sky is all pinks and purples.

“Wh-what?” You ask breathlessly, but he shakes his head, pulling your face to him as he lets the car purr, the rock music slowly playing in the background as his lips slam on yours, and you moan into them. “Oh… Toji, fuck. Feel s’good.” Your throaty whisper turns into a whine as he’s got his hands sliding down the side of your breasts now.

Your nipples perk right up, and he pulls back to look down at you, hunger clear in those green eyes, his lashes low over them, lips parted. “Fuck I missed tasting you, doll. Missed feeling you.”

“Me too. Me too.” Now you’re kissing him desperately, and he’s pulling you on his lap, you eagerly straddle him, his hands immediately sliding up to cup your ass under your skirt. He groaned against your mouth, his tongue pushing past your lips to explore your mouth with a hunger that matched your own.

The car was cramped, the steering wheel pressed against your back, the gear shift shoving in your thigh, Toji’s so goddamn huge everywhere you barely fit, your head is so close to his little roof you’re sure you’ll whack it, but it didn’t matter. Nothing else in the world mattered except the feel of his rough hands on your skin, the way his tongue danced with yours, the desperation in his grip.

You could feel his cock growing hard between your thighs, and you ground down against him, eliciting a deep groan from his chest. His hands slid up to your breasts, kneading them roughly, squishing them before his thumbs found your nipples. You gasped into the kiss, arching your back, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue even deeper into your mouth.

The world outside the car had faded away, you weren’t even sure where he had parked, and you really didn't care either. Not when you’re soaking wet between your thighs now, and all that existed was the two of you, tangled together in the front seat. You reached down and unbuckled his belt, sliding your hand into his pants to grasp his length, feeling him rock hard and hot in your palm.

“Freaky lil brat.” He huffs, but he’s panting heavily, and you see it, he’s as lost in this crazy fucking connection as you are, isn’t he. “Need to be inside you, now.”

“Then fuck me, Toji.” He’s frantic now, as lifts you just a bit off him, pushing the seat back as far as it would go. He slammed his mouth back down on yours as he’s yanking your panties to the side, sinking two fingers in, and you scream at how good it feels, soaking his hand. “Yes, yes there. Ngh!”

“So wet f’me, only me. Say it doll.” He presses those fingers, hitting your spot you can’t find for shit on your own, and you scream out, the car getting overheated as the two of you fill it with your desire. You lean forward, one hand bracing yourself by holding his shoulder, the other struggling to pump on him. “Say it.”

“Of course it’s only you, old man.” He glares now, yanking those fingers out, and you gasp. “N-no, back in, s-sorry!”

“Fuckin brat.”

Toji’s hand slid back up your skirt, his calloused fingers finding your panties soaked with need, sticking to you. He rips them off then, and you blink in shock. “I really liked those!”

“Shouldn’t even wear panties around me then.” He tosses them and you glare, breathless as his fingers are sliding back into your wet heat.

“You take them all!”

He grins, chuckling under you, but then he’s fucking you with those fingers so good you hear yourself squishing in the little car, and your eyes are rolling back, as your head tilts back, shoving your breasts in his face as you scream out. He’s shoving that top up with his free hand, sucking on your breasts, your nipples which are so sensitive you can’t stand it,

“F-fine. Keep them, freaky old man.” You grind down onto his hand as he works you closer to the edge, your body overheating as he’s watching you hungrily. You needed him inside you, filling you up, claiming you like only he could, and you’re already cumming from just one more pump of thick fingers.

“That’s it, doll, cum like a lil slut f’me.” His nasty words are just what you want, you’re falling apart over him, clenching his fingers like a vise as you can’t even see anymore, it’s all feeling too fucking euphoric. You’re floating on that high, Toji makes you cum better than a vibrator ever could. “S’wet too, slutty lil cunt.”

“Fuck me, please. Please.” You’re begging, and you don’t care that you’re begging either, you need him so goddamn bad you can’t stand it. His eyes never leave yours as he lines himself up with your entrance now, moaning and biting his lower lip with stark white teeth.

“Begging, so fuckin desperate huh doll? For an old man .”

“Shut up, please . Fuck me. Please… I… Ah!”  With one swift movement, Toji’s eight inches are buried deep inside you, and you both cry out at how good it feels, as you’re stretched beyond your means, as your cunt is squeezing him so tight.

“F-Fuck… doll, I…” He exhales, blinking a bit, his usually sure hands squeezing your hips so tight you can’t breathe. Your eyes lock, and his lids lower, his jaw relaxing and his cheeks going red as he lifts you up his length, then slams you back down. He buries his head against your chest, and you cling to his head, shivering as you struggle to take him.

“Toji… Toji …” He began to move now, his hips driving into you with a force that had you gripping the headrest above him to balance yourself, to cling. Each stroke brought you closer to the precipice, and you could feel the beginnings of your climax already building low in your belly.

You wrapped your legs around him, thigh uncomfortably shoving into the door on one side, the console on the other, as you’re pulling him in deeper, your breath hitching with each powerful thrust. Toji’s eyes were dark with lust as he watched you, his jaw clenched, drinking you in, hands everywhere.

The way his chest heaved with every breath, the way his fingers dug into your skin as he held you down, how gorgeous he looks makes you wetter and wetter, until you’re gushing all over him, down his length, down his thighs. He’s inhaling as he shoves up so deep you scream out, making you cum now, you’re cumming so hard it takes over everything you are.

“Toji! Ngh!”

“ Good girl .”

“Fuck!” He’s kissing you again, you cling to him eagerly, sliding your hips up and down now, bouncing on his cock, stretching you out, and it’s so intense you’re just seeing stars as you’re soaking him.

“That’s it, doll. Let me feel you.” His words are quieter than usual, his tone husky as he’s feeling you pulsing around his length. You slam your lips back on him again, as he drinks you cries, a hand sliding up your back, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

You leaned back, feeling his cock slip out of you slightly, and you watched his face tighten. You reached down and guided him back inside, sighing with relief as he filled you completely once more. Your hips began to move again, matching his rhythm, your hands sliding up his back to tug at his shirt, lifting it up to reveal more of where you two are joined.

“Look at you sucking me in s’good, ma.” He shoves up then, leaning back, hands on your thighs as he rolls his hips, that tip pressing on your cervix. Your back arches, eyes fluttering shut as you move with him.

The world outside the car was forgotten, the only thing that mattered was the connection between the two of you, silent aside from his moans and yours intermingling in the car now. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small space, as you took his length more and more, bouncing on his cock up and down.

Toji’s whispering your name, it sounds so good on his lips as you move, watching him, that steering wheel pressing into your back, not that you care, it just makes the sensation of his throbbing cock in you even better. You see him, sweat on his brow, that jaw clenched, then he stills you, gripping you bruisingly now, fucking into you so hard you’re screaming out, one of your hands smacking the window next to you.

“Want me to fill ya, doll? My doll. My perfect… My… fuck…” He’s losing his own train of thought, as he’s shoving you down on him, harder and harder now, and you whimper, resting your head on his now, foreheads touching, slick with both of your sweat, your hands clinging to his bare arms desperately.

“Cum in me, please. Please, Daddy .” You whisper, then he falls apart under you, pushing one more time and then his head falls back, his grip brutal. You kiss down his neck, biting when you feel him cum so deep, whispering your name.

“Cum with me. Doll. Milk me.” He’s pressing up so deep you can barely handle it, feel him in your damn throat like you can’t breathe. You’re falling apart right with him, as he’s pulsing inside you, cum shooting so much it’s falling out right around him as you cum with him. “F-Fuck… doll… love… you.”

“Love… you…” You whisper back, and you all kiss frantically, holding hands now, over your hips, entwined, his hot cum filling you so good you’re oversensitive, as your clit is grinding against his pelvis, and the friction along with cum in your cervix has you a mess. “Toji��”

“Mine. You’re mine. Aren’t ya doll?” He cups your face now, looking up desperately, as he shivers just for a moment, his long lashes covering those eyes, and you nod eagerly, grinding on his sensitive tip, making you both whine.

“I’m yours. Toji Fushiguro. All yours.” He’s kissing you desperately, as his cock twitches inside of you, little spurts of cum still pouring into you somehow. He’s got his hands in your loose hair, pulling it hard, lips brutal. He sucks all your oxygen, as the car is purring beneath you both, as your heart is pounding out of your chest.

It’s silent, the smacking kisses the noise now, as your ass at some point has knocked off Toji’s music, and he’s just kissing you over and over. When you pull away to catch your breath, his eyes are so serious when they look at you, and you feel it, all the ways he missed you too.

“Fuck.” Is all he says, exhaling and tracing your collarbone with his thumb, dipping in the hollow there, eyes taking every bit of you in. “How am I gonna last without this again?” His voice is hoarse as he says those words, and emotions start hitting, mixed with your inability to think straight, you feel it even more.

“I know, I know.” You snuggle with him then, and he holds you close, kissing down the side of your neck, hands touching you everywhere he can.

“All this trip Imma be convincing you to just stay home and have my kid.” You giggle, shaking your head. “Ya think I’m joking, huh brat?”

“I know you are. Stop all that.”

“Stop wanting to put a kid in ya? Nah, doll, not happening.” You ease off him then, flushing when you see the mess you’ve made, his cock looks so lewd it’s obscene, dripping with his own cum and your arousal. “Well?”

“Well what?” You ask curiously, scooching over to the seat. And he’s raising a dark brow. “What!”

“Clean me up, it’s a long trip.” You blink a bit, as he scoots his seat up and starts to drive.

“Huh?” He grabs you by your hair, still focusing seamlessly on the road, dragging your head over to his lap now.

“Clean. Me. Up.”

Oh.

[kaiser1ns]

#. LIKE A BOY IN LUV

featuring 𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗼 𝘆𝗮𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗼 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

fluff + slight angst + slight suggestive. welcome to the top 10 moments in your relationship with the one and only yamato!

word count :: 3,4 k. he may be a little bit ooc but we all love him anyway

DATING ENDO YAMATO is its own category of experience. You wanted a boyfriend, but instead, you got a loyal, loving, wild man who's always by your side with open arms, gift bags, and tons of surprises because he's unpredictable and you never know what he's thinking and what he's going to do.

"You remind me of Alice in Wonderland." walking in the park enjoying the pleasant night air when he spoke squeezing your hand and making you turn your gaze to him. He was smiling, what he was saying clearly really mattered, even if it came out of nowhere. "And I'm the Chesire Cat. I'm always there for you, even when I'm not." Now that you thought about it, he really did resemble the fantasy character. A grinning cat who teaches Alice "the rules" of Wonderland — him teaching you how the delinquent world works. Sarcastic and playful, he can appear and disappear in any location. He is quick to play jokes on others, he is mad, but unlike the others, he admits it with pride. But despite that he is giving you advice on which path to take during your journey called life, practically acting as your wise guide to the point where you're overly joyous to see him every time.

HIS KISSES ARE ALWAYS surprising and unexpected. One day he will kiss you like there's no tomorrow, fast but smooth because he can't get enough of you, the flavor of your lipstick is long gone when you feel his lips making rough motions, a little biting on your lower lip. His hands can't find a place on your body, but you are still as close as ever. He smiles into every kiss, and you can feel it, you can feel his love.

But there are occasions when he takes his time with you. There is no rush or insatiability, only you and him under the dim lights. Slowly, everything is so slow that it makes you dizzy. He kisses you everywhere starting from your face, and then your lips are doing a slow dance, so captivating that they make you want more of him. Your hands play with his hair and his holding you tight on your waist, giving it a light squeeze once in a while, because this is where you are supposed to be. Every part you are insecure about, he will kiss it. Every beauty mark or scar you don't seem to adore, he will kiss it. He will take all of your insecurities and pain away just by worshiping you — you are a Goddess and should be treated as such. Loving someone, and devoting yourself to them takes time, but for him, time has stopped and only you exist in that moment. Only you are important and he will show how deeply he has fallen for you.

HE IS OBSESSED WITH YOU to the point where there was no way out, and you liked that, seeing someone go out of their way to make sure you were okay. But that didn't mean you didn't give him anything in return. Often your dates were outside, whether in a coffee shop, a mall, or an arcade, and every time he paid, it made you uncomfortable and guilty. There was no need for him to pay for everything, but he insisted that you keep your money. And so you saved every bill and penny to give him the perfect birthday surprise when he gets home. 

You planned this for months, knowing exactly what would make him happiest. dolling yourself up, every detail perfect, every thought just for him. The apartment was dark, lit only by the soft glow of candles and the path of rose petals leading to you. You stood there, holding the cake with his favorite flavor, your lips curved into a smile so genuine and full of love that it lit up the room brighter than any candle.

When he opened the front door, his eyes widened in shock, then softened in pure affection. He followed the path slowly, taking in every petal, every flicker of the candles, but mostly he took in you. “Happy birthday, my love!” you whispered, your voice a melody just for him. For a moment, he was speechless. no words could convey the overwhelming emotions flooding through him. Your home was transformed, but you were the true gift. He couldn’t help the tears that welled up in his eyes — tears of pure joy. He wasn’t Endo Yamato, the prodigy, or the man who carried the world for others. He was just your Yamato, your boyfriend who deserved to be loved so deeply and sincerely.

Without saying a word, he gently set the cake aside and pulled you into a tight embrace, kissing you with all the love he had to offer. “You are the best gift in my life.”

ENDO YAMATO TAKES YOU TO A POOL HALL at least a few times a month and you still haven't learned how to play. But it didn't matter to him as long as he spent time with you and now it was your turn, he was leading you with the points, of course. "Come on, sweets. you can do it." Easy to say, but hard to achieve. You bent down and set the cue, the angle was perfect and you just had to hit the white ball using moderate force. Yes, but no. The white ball went in instead of the colored one and you heard your boyfriend laugh.

"Let me help you then.” He came up behind you, his body touching yours as he placed his hands on top of yours, caging you in his strong arms. You swallowed hard too, not that you weren't used to physical contact with him but it just felt different now. "It's simple, doll. You just have to aim well and hold the pole firmly, but not too hard. And then–” and your ball went into the pocket, but only because he controlled your movements. “You score!” he pulled away from you but you could still feel his warmth. "No matter how hard I try I can't…” but that's okay because no matter if you can or not, he is always the winner, but you won his heart. Fair enough, right?

EVEN A SECOND WHERE HE hasn't seen you, heard you or doesn't know where you are will drive him crazy, and at the moment you were neither picking up your phone nor answering his messages and he was expressing emotions he didn't know he had. Your boyfriend had a lot of trust in you, he never had doubts for a second but when you come home drunk, you don't know where you are, your hair is messy, your makeup is smudged and you can barely walk on those heels. He couldn't help thinking of something he shouldn't. You hiccuped as you tried to take them off and even though he was feeling a thousand new emotions of anger he still helped you up and left you lying on the couch. “Yamato~ I missed you!” if you didn't smell like someone else's perfume he would tell you the same thing. Endo poured water for you and there were pills on the side in case you got sick as he sat next to you but not as close as usual. 

“You were with someone else?” you couldn't even understand the question, you couldn't understand what situation you were in right now, and that smile of his was gone. Rubbing hands over your eyes, you stood up from a lying position. "I was with my girl friends. I told you a few days ago.” 

You groaned, trying to sit up, but the room spun in all directions, the lights seemed too bright, his voice too loud. "Yamato... I told you," you muttered, fumbling with your words. His usual cheerfulness was replaced by something you hadn't seen before—jealousy, frustration, anger? It didn't feel like him. "I was with my friends... and their cousin drove us home. He was just looking out for us. That's it. Nothing else," you repeated, blinking up at him, trying to steady your thoughts through the alcohol haze.

He wasn't convinced. Crossing his arms, tapping his feet, glancing at your phone—dead and useless. "Convenient, isn't it? You come home smelling like some guy, looking like you’ve been out all night doing God knows what, and your phone is dead. How am I supposed to believe you when all I see is the opposite?"

You winced at the accusation, your heart pounding harder now from more than just the headache. "Yamato, you know me. I wouldn’t—"

"Do I?" he interrupted, voice harsher than ever before. "Because right now, I think I judged you too fast from the start." His words cut deeper than anything you'd ever imagined he could say. He never doubted you, never questioned your loyalty, and now? 

Tears blur your vision as exhaustion overwhelms you. "I don't care if you believe me or not right now. Go crash at your place or Takiishi's, clear your head, do whatever. I just... I can't do this now." You tried standing, wobbling slightly as you grabbed the doorknob on the front door, holding yourself steady. “If I'm such a person to you, then why are you still here?”

Endo stared at you, his anger softening into something that looked like regret, but he didn’t need another push. You looked and were sure in what you said, and he started something he couldn't finish. Grabbing his shoes, he stormed out as you slammed the door so hard, that the whole apartment seemed to shake—but nothing compared to the ache in your chest. Crumbled to the floor, sobbing, it was clear: the person you loved most had just hurt you in a way you never imagined

ARGUMENTS WITH ENDO YAMATO are bad, and by that, I mean really bad. You blocked him in every social media app, and his number because you don't want to see or hear him. Even blocked him on Roblox and unfriended him in any game you both played. You just need rest to gain your composure, to focus on your mentality, and not have him suffocating you with his obsessive tendencies. It doesn't get any better when you suddenly receive an email from ilovelnynsomuch202839@gmail.com with the title "i miss you, please don't be mad." with a written roman in the text field saying how sorry he is, how he will make sure not to do that anymore and how much he loves you and if you can open the door because he is freezing. 

You can't believe this man and how he will do everything to be with you. Your eyes widen as you go to the window of your apartment and see him there, wearing only a top and jeans, for all his outer garments are in your wardrobe, and you are wearing one, despite saying you hate him. But he will withstand the cold, he always withstands absolutely anything, and to be away from you seemed like torture. You felt another vibration from your phone and it was him again, sending you another email. "i know you see me and i'll sit here as long as it takes♡"

He has no idea the way he makes you feel, you still let him in your heart, and in your home after two hours of him sitting on the bench and when you go to open the door for him, he is hugging you tight, he will never let you go, never make you mad again.

THE TYPE OF BOYFRIEND WHO DOES TIKTOK TRENDS with you, will it be dancing, putting a finger down, or when his whole face is covered in red prints from your lips and lipstick. Almost everything is done. He liked the new trend, especially the song, and part that was on every edit that came out on the for you page. According to him, it perfectly described your relationship and how not to take a video of you fixing yourself in the bathroom mirror putting on some make-up while he was behind you, phone in hand, and the music playing.

“Back to the kitty, 'cause she's kinda pretty. I couldn't stop lookin’ at her ta-ta-ta…” he panned the camera and you saw his reflection moving the phone to your chest and then to your face after you were done with the lipstick and he smiled in the mirror. “Face.” You didn't pay much attention to him, not when you were doing the same thing when there was trendy couple stuff. Flipping the front camera around and quickly set up the phone on the counter as he then quickly walked behind you again and wrapped his arms around your waist, his tattoos on full display as your hands were on his.

“Me and cat mama rolled into the distant fog,” he was looking straight into the mirror where your eyes met and he just smirked, kissing your neck and then looking down at the camera, gently squeezing your torso before the last line came out from the phone.

“Little did she know I'ma nasty dog.” his hands went up to grab your chin and turn your face to his so he could kiss you. The clip was done and you didn't know how many times the audio would repeat, but he wasn't done at all. He held you tight, and he didn't stop, and you were out of breath but your hands went to his chest and pushed him to get the hint. You both couldn't catch your breath because you just had a little make-out session in the bathroom. He went to turn the phone off before saving the video and looking back at you. “Want to ditch the others and continue in the be–?” 

“Yes.” you didn't have to think so much, you were categorical and so was he. Noroshi can have fun themselves fighting people left and right while your boyfriend will show you a different type of fun.

BEING HIS GIRLFRIEND MEANT THAT you are used to hanging out with Takiishi Chika a lot too. You were at the mall, purchase after purchase but you two didn't hold any bags, Endo held everything, and even when you wanted to get something he insisted that a princess like you should hold nothing but a pretty smile on her face. The redhead didn't even look back, he didn't care but you did. “Chika, stop." for some reason he listened to you, maybe it was because you had known each other since childhood and had a great influence on him. It might not matter that much to him, but thanks to him, you met Endo and more or less he had to be nice to him. 

You went to get some bags from Endo, giving them to Takiishi who hadn't reached his hand out at all. At first, the two of you made eye contact, your eyes more insistent than his as he looked away, losing this fight as he took the bags from your hands and you smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Chika.” Turning to your boyfriend who was stunned at how you got none other than Takiishi Chika to carry his own shopping bags. He blushed and laughed a little at this heroic deed of yours. He didn't know how you even did it, how you had such a huge influence over the two of them, especially him. One of his hands was now free and you grabbed it as you started to walk forward. “What a woman you are. Please, teach me your ways.”

HIM HAVING TATTOOS MEANS ONLY ONE THING and that is you can turn him into a coloring book. Sitting on his lap, his arms outstretched and you were creating art – pink, purple, blue, whatever markers and eye shadows were on his buffy arms. You were very focused on making his scorpion tattoo shine, literally because you put pink glitter on it and drew a cute little face. "My nose itches." looking up at the ceiling, wiggling his nose as you carefully made a ribbon on the scorpion's tail, "You have to wait, baby." Of course, he had to wait for the good things, and art is a slow and painstaking process in which the artist shows and expresses their emotions in the paintings. He let out a soft sigh, knowing he had no choice but to endure it if he wanted to keep you happy. His body was a canvas that you could look at all day, it was so intoxicating, he had chosen interesting designs, and how he arranged them ... just beautiful.

“Isn’t it the palette you just bought?” The compass tattoo on his right hand now gleamed with bright colors, and the flames were reddish and fiery, as they reflected your burning love for him. “Yes. Now let me focus, please.” You smiled as you turned the star on his middle finger into a vibrant one with cute eyes, straight out of Super Mario. For the grand finale, you applied some eye shadow to the infinity symbol tattoo on his neck, turning it into a delicate pink bow. "Go look at yourself in the mirror!" you quickly got up from his lap, gently taking his hand with yours so as not to smudge anything.

"It's like a unicorn threw up on me," he grinned, running a finger over his colorful scorpion. He turned slightly to the side to see his back, the Frank tattoo he had with Takiishi was colored in pretty blue hues. "Cute." He gave you a quick peck. Maybe he should let you do this more often—it definitely made you happy.

ENDO YAMATO LOVED TO ANNOY YOU as much as he loved to make you happy. No matter where or when he nagged at you every second you ignored him – maybe because you wanted to take a nap on this lovely afternoon after a stressful and busy day. To have some peace and quiet, but no, someone decided to give you light pokes on the butt, making you let out a heavy sigh. You were almost close to drifting off into the world of dreams, you were so snuggly wrapped up in the blanket, cuddling with the stuffed toy, until someone named Endo Yamato decided it was a good idea to wake you up. "Stop it. Either go to sleep or go annoy Chika." But the touches didn't stop even when you turned on your other side, you mumbled something, it sounded a little like you were screaming into your pillow. You stood up angrily and threw the stuffed toy and pillow at him. "Leave me alone!"

"It will never happen, not even in your dreams." it was your last drop of patience, the last string you could pull as you pushed him off the bed with all your might and he fell on the ground with a loud thud, "Stay down in Hell." Wrapping yourself in the blanket again, and though your pillow was on the ground with him, his was still on the bed, and by the time you placed it under your head, Endo, with all his weight and insolence, lay on top of you. You started banging your hand on the mattress like a time-out because you couldn't breathe. He rose as you gasped and quickly flipped him over, straddling him with your legs as he held your wrists. “Yamato, I will kill you in every possible way.” "Don't, I'm going to like it." that nasty lovely smile on his dumb-looking handsome face, you just wanted to wipe it off and when you realized the position you were in, your nerves just couldn't take it. How can he annoy you and want extra attention only when you are sleepy? You immediately stood up but his arms pulled you down laying on his chest and his heart was beating like crazy because he had fallen madly for you…or in this case, you fell for him. Your breathing started to calm, your eyes closing, his fingers playing with your hair making you relax as much as possible "I love you, you know…" he whispered, wrapping his arms around you and leaving a kiss on your forehead. "I know."

Snuggling into him, but how much more as you were already a part of him, forever and always. "But you'll still be sleeping on the couch." he only hummed in response, slowly drifting to sleep but he knew your love was better than any dream because you were his entire world, the one that made him, the hopeless boy, experience something real.

taglist :: @maruflix @heartkaji @17020 @stunie @kazuhaiku @meidiary @nyxypoo @mydream-synopsis @slerixx

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[its-avalon-08]

it all fell down (ln4)

part11

multipart story! part1 part2 part3 part4 part5 part6 part7 part8 part9 part10

✦ pairing - lando norris x female reader

very important note at the end - pls read it

summary : lando norris and y/n were friends for 20 years, fell in love and dated for five. until it all fell down. they left each others lives abruptly and never spoke again, until they met again in the most unexpected way. can they find their way back or will certain scars never heal?

Y/N and Lando walked back to her apartment in silence, the cool rain still falling lightly around them. Their hands were entwined, the contact grounding them as they made their way through the quiet streets. Every step felt like a promise, every glance a reassurance that they were finally on the same page, ready to confront the past that had haunted them for so long.

As they entered Y/N’s apartment, the familiar warmth of the space enveloped them. She flicked on the lights, casting a soft glow over the room, and dropped her keys on the counter. For a moment, they just stood there, the weight of what had happened between them settling in the air.

Lando took a deep breath, breaking the silence. “We should talk.”

Y/N nodded, her heart pounding. “Yeah, we should.”

They moved to the couch, sitting down with a cautious distance between them, the tension from before replaced with a more vulnerable kind of anticipation. The kind that came from knowing that the next few minutes could either heal them or break them all over again.

Y/N was the first to speak, her voice trembling with emotion. “I never wanted things to end the way they did. I was just… scared, Lando. Scared of how much you meant to me, scared of losing myself in you. I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Lando’s eyes softened as he looked at her, the pain of their breakup still fresh in his memory. “I get it, Y/N. I was scared too. But the way we both handled it… the things we said…”

His voice broke slightly, and Y/N reached out, her hand finding his. “We hurt each other so badly,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’ve never regretted anything more than the way I treated you. I thought pushing you away would make it easier, but it just… destroyed us.”

Lando squeezed her hand, his own eyes glistening with tears. “You said dating me was a mistake, and it killed me, Y/N. I kept hearing those words over and over, wondering if you ever really loved me at all.”

Tears spilled down Y/N’s cheeks as she shook her head, her voice cracking. “I didn’t mean it, Lando. I was so angry, and I just wanted to hurt you because I was hurting. But I never, ever believed that. You were the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Lando’s breath hitched, his own tears now falling freely. “It wasn’t just you, though. I said things too, things I can’t take back. I was so hurt by what you said, I wanted you to feel the same pain I was feeling. But all it did was tear us apart.”

Y/N leaned closer, her voice breaking with emotion. “I hated myself for letting you go, for saying those things. Every day, I missed you, Lando. But I was too proud, too scared to admit that I was wrong.”

Lando’s hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb gently wiping away her tears. “I missed you too, more than I can even explain. But I was so angry at you, and at myself. I felt like I wasn’t enough for you, like I couldn’t make you happy.”

Y/N shook her head, more tears falling. “You were everything to me, Lando. I was just too blind to see it at the time. I let my fear control me, and I lost the most important person in my life because of it.”

Lando’s voice was thick with emotion as he spoke. “I felt the same way, Y/N. I lost myself in the anger, in the pain of losing you. I started acting out, trying to forget, but nothing worked. Nothing made me feel better.”

The air between them was heavy with all the unsaid words, all the pain that had been bottled up for so long. Y/N’s heart ached as she looked at Lando, seeing the hurt in his eyes, knowing she had put it there.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “For everything. I wish I could take it all back, Lando.”

Lando shook his head, pulling her closer. “We can’t change the past, but we can start over. We can try again, if you still want that.”

Y/N’s tears flowed freely as she nodded, her heart swelling with hope. “I do, Lando. I want that more than anything. But I don’t want to hurt you again.”

Lando pressed his forehead to hers, his voice a soft, broken whisper. “We’ll figure it out, Y/N. Together this time. No more running away, no more pushing each other away. Just us, facing whatever comes together.”

Y/N let out a sob, the weight of the past finally lifting from her shoulders. “I love you, Lando. I never stopped.”

Lando’s own tears fell as he pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her as if he would never let go. “I love you too, Y/N. And I’m not going anywhere.”

They held each other for a long time, their tears mingling as they finally let go of the pain that had kept them apart for so long. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of them, wrapped in each other’s arms, ready to start over.

Y/N and Lando sat on her couch, the heaviness of their earlier conversation giving way to a lighter, more playful atmosphere. The weight of their past had been lifted, leaving space for something new—something familiar, yet fresh.

Y/N curled up, tucking her legs under her as she sipped on the hot chocolate Lando had made. She glanced at him, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “So, tell me… how many dates did you go on while we were broken up?”

Lando raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Me? Dates? Nah, I was just too busy being a ‘man of mystery’ or whatever the tabloids were calling me.”

Y/N chuckled, nudging his shoulder. “Oh, come on. You know I kept tabs on you. You weren’t exactly subtle about it.”

Lando grinned, leaning back against the couch. “Okay, fine. I went on a few dates… but none of them ever felt right. I’d be sitting there, trying to make conversation, but all I could think about was how you would have rolled your eyes at the things they were saying.”

Y/N laughed, a soft blush creeping up her cheeks. “Well, for the record, I didn’t date much either. I tried, but every guy just felt… off. They weren’t you.”

Lando’s smile softened as he looked at her, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “So, we were both equally terrible at moving on, huh?”

“Pretty much,” Y/N admitted, laughing. “I even went out with this one guy who was super into cars, hoping it would make things easier. But all I could think about was how much you’d love to debate him on whether Ferrari or McLaren was better.”

Lando snorted, shaking his head. “That poor guy didn’t stand a chance.”

Y/N giggled, the sound light and infectious. “Nope, not at all. And every time I’d see a photo of you with some model, I’d convince myself that I was totally over you… but then I’d stalk your Instagram and see your stories, and I’d realize I was just lying to myself.”

Lando chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I may have done some stalking myself. I’d see you posting about all the new things you were doing, and I’d try to convince myself that you were happier without me. But it only made me want to reach out more.”

Y/N shook her head with a smile. “It’s kind of sad, isn’t it? We were both trying so hard to move on, but we couldn’t stop thinking about each other.”

“Sad?” Lando repeated, raising an eyebrow. “I think it’s kind of sweet. We’re both just hopeless when it comes to each other.”

“Yeah, hopeless,” Y/N agreed, her voice softening. “I guess that’s what happens when you fall in love with your best friend.”

Lando’s expression grew tender as he reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I missed you so much, Y/N. No one could ever compare to you.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at his words, and she placed her hand over his, squeezing it gently. “I missed you too, Lando. Every single day.”

They sat there in comfortable silence, their fingers intertwined, both of them reveling in the warmth of their reunion.

Lando glanced at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know, if we’d just swallowed our pride a little sooner, we could have avoided all those awful fucking dates.”

Y/N laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “True. But then we wouldn’t have these funny stories to tell.”

“Fair point,” Lando conceded, grinning. “And, hey, at least we know now that no one else stands a chance.”

Y/N smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “No one ever did, Lando. It was always you.”

Lando wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. “And it was always you for me, too.”

As they sat there, cuddled up on the couch, the weight of the past fell away entirely, leaving only the warmth of the present. They were no longer two people trying to move on from each other—they were two people who had finally found their way back home.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------avaspeaks - hi lovelies! im so sorry for being gone for so long, exam prep threw me for a toss and i was so occupied and busy. but now im back for good and ready to update the blog. i felt so awful for not updating because i know the frustration when a series is just left unfinished. but worry not because your girl is back and ready to finish all the requests and series!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist ---> @misspygmypie @kol67-t @sltwins @f1fantasys @sarx164 @imboredway2much @demandealalune e @elz-xo o @bellelovesharryy @hey-there9-its-me @marauders-wife @itsjustfranzi @l-sofiamia-l @ironmaiden1313 @01rrdbull @avni-sarai @maddy27

comment to get added to the taglist

[sugashook]

wade goes "i need you" and he literally grabs logan and is very clear and consistent on it, like i need you, all the time. i think logan needs that clarity and certainty and forwardness..honesty, someone to push him and need him. someone with transparent emotions that will get him out of his head,

and wade needs someone to be there for him no matter what a stable rock. it's like logan's no longer a puzzle piece for war, he's extremely important in wades world, his other half at the moment perhaps (bark)

wolverines entire thing is that he can take great beatings and come back seemingly fine and unaffected its like a very strong closed off person, a fortress that protects his emotions. i think he feels good having people to protect.

but that's also a bad thing because being really strong and feeling like you can take all the bullets you took in your life and bounce them off while at the same time suffering in silence seemingly unaffected by what happened to you is harmful to your psyche. and seeming this way to others as well is even a bigger issue, especially with logan who has the base need to be with people and be there for others.

and for that he NEEDS someone to dig deeper and pierce through his perfect disposition he is NOT easily open and easy going like wade he needs someone to see him and give him a chance and fight for him! wade will make way for himself in someones life, logan will go deeper into himself.

others could see you perfectly "unscathed" all the time and if they don't understand you or try to understand you and how much you can be dealing with complex emotions inside, they will grow resentful,you'll be rejected and treated badly.

wade is very fragile on the other hand, sure he regenerates, but the scars of his trauma are visible and harsh on him, he knows it , everyone knows it.

that's why he's so repulsive to others, his life beat him so hard that he can't control himself with his emotions and it weirds people out, they don't understand it and they get mad,upset,etc.

even scared just by looking at him, you survived trauma, but it shows on you how it affected you and it makes ME uncomfortable, that's pretty scary, you're different and you don't fit in anywhere. they judge him in the opposite way that logan is judged. your overwhelming presence is unnerving to me.

thats why wade hides with his suit his entire face, and the blood. dont notice me,my wounds, and the wounds i give to others. while logans suit screams "notice me!! i'm not okay!! i want people to see me!"

when he regenerates, wades body generates bad body tissue from his skin to his core. and the scars of all that trauma add new trauma so he's constantly re-traumatizing himself and it layers on. he doesn't get stronger or bounce it off himself, bad things such as trauma are just bad they create more bad and he's made out of all the bad things that happened during his life sort of, so he needs a lot of external support.

cause he has no strength left! all the trauma and SLS (shitty life syndrome) is like up to his gills. but he is very joyful and positive despite the harshness of life.

he is a little positivity clown bouncing around in wolverines fortress of solitude.

wolverine can sort of take attacks from life and endure and wade can attack life more easily, he's a positive, up beat, go getter. he loves the world and sees hope in it when there's none. and when the world doesnt love him back ,it crushes him and he cant take it. he doesn't understand how anything he tries he gets hurt by. but he never stops trying :)

logan shuts himself off from the cruel world with his perfect skin and metal bones, but the world has shut off from him as well. wade keeps being hurt and open to the world just like his open wounds and scarred body. even though the world hurts him through his openness.

[imnotyetfound]

My take on Five/Lila - and why they were endgame

I’ve seen so many people say that Five and Lila didn’t make any sense, and I just disagree. I've tried to really motivate why, and also why I see them as endgame. Feel free to agree or disagree.

First of all, Five and Lila share a common background of being raised plus trained as survivors and weapons. Five was molded by his time in the apocalypse, the Commission and his ruthless upbringing within the Hargreeves family, while Lila was similarly trained and manipulated by the Handler. Both of them were forced into brutal, high-stakes environments from a young age, developing a sense of independence, ruthlessness, and survival instincts that the rest of the family can’t fully relate to. We see this especially in Five and Lila’s difficulties in showing emotional vulnerability and trusting others. This shared experience means they both understand the cost of their traumatic upbringings and can relate to each other’s emotional scars in ways others just won’t be able to. So already by this, they’re somewhat bonded from the start.

In other similarities both Five and Lila possess extraordinary intelligence and tactical thinking. They challenge each other in a way no one else does. This has been an ongoing thing between them, bouncing off each other and sometimes teaming up. It’s also what drew them to work on another mission together in S4, there has always been some kind of pull/push there. Personality-wise both Five and Lila have a dark sense of humor and a cynical outlook on the world. But despite the cynicism, they still manage to eventually relax and find humor in each other’s company. The lighter moments we’ve seen between them at times have been an interesting contrast to their otherwise serious and violent lifestyles. 

I do believe their shared backgrounds and personalities created a bond that was then further strengthened during the years they spent lost in the subway together. Isolated from the rest of the world, they literally only had each other for company. The intimacy and trust that grew between them was inevitable. When you have no one else to rely on, you’re going to develop a relationship stronger than under normal circumstances. So over those years, they must have grown close in ways that no one else could fully understand. Even though we didn't get to see every detail of how it unfolded (because the season was way too short), it’s not difficult to imagine.

I’d also say they naturally grew a bond stronger than with any other character at that time, except for the one between mother and child which is why Lila’s need to be with her children would always make her go home if given the chance. Five knew this and it’s the reason he kept the solution from her for months. 

Now, to my thoughts about their actions in regards to Diego as this is often brought up. The argument that Lila cheated on her husband with Five is understandable from a moral perspective, if we see it as just that without any context. But when you consider the circumstances it is way more nuanced. You have to look at not only the environment they found themselves in, but also the emotional and psychological journey they went through together. Their relationship was ultimately forged over a shared background and then several years of isolation. Then you add to the fact that Diego seems to have treated Lila like crap in the years leading up to the isolation, she said it herself he was always moping around and complaining while she sacrificed her life to stay at home and take care of the kids. She even told him she needed a break to reassess their relationship. I do believe her and Five had somewhat already begun an emotional affair before the isolation, the way they were sneaking off together and clearly wanted to keep their thing separate from Diego and the others. Yet they still didn’t get physical until they settled down, believing they weren’t gonna find a way back.

Also, it’s important to here consider the strength of the bond, as I mentioned earlier, that Five and Lila must have developed over those years. They knew each other better than anyone else by the end. Spending every day together in a survival situation with nothing else around would likely create an unparalleled level of intimacy and emotional closeness. This bond would probably transcend Lila’s previous relationship with Diego, and maybe even Five’s bond with his siblings. It’s been years since he returned to them and they had all grown in separate directions. Lila and Five however had recently experienced something life-changing together, and it is unfair to dismiss the strength of their connection as something unethical or out of character when their reality had shifted so drastically from when the show started.

Another important point here is how the relationship with Lila allowed Five to finally be "human" and emotionally open in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to be before. Five was obviously emotionally detached as a result of both his past trauma and the burden of being a hyper-intelligent man in the body of a boy. With Lila, he had the chance to just feel love and trust without worrying about anything else. So I do think this outweighs his “betrayal” against his brother as people claim.

Now on to how and why Five and Lila were endgame. I’m convinced that Lila did love Five despite her choice to leave their isolation. To me this was cemented as she didn’t deny her feelings when Diego asked her straight out. If she wanted to make Diego feel better she could have easily denied her feelings for Five to reassure him. Yet even when asked twice she couldn’t do it. There was also Lila’s look of relief when Five returned to them at the end. It was Five who Lila allowed to comfort her after she said goodbye to her family, trusting him in her most vulnerable moment instead of blipping back to Diego and the others. These events showed the deep trust and emotional intimacy that still existed between them after returning to “the real world”. Despite her saying it was over. I also want to add here that Lila took Five’s hand as they were dying, the look between them was for me at least silently saying they loved each other. 

So all in all I do believe that the connection and love between Five and Lila was authentic. It also made sense. They’re able to understand each other’s emotional complexities, including their darker tendencies, without needing to change who they are. Still their time together seemed to actually have softened them both when they finally had the chance to settle down, almost as if they were healing from past trauma together. This would forge a relationship that no one else could replicate without going through the same experience. Making Five and Lila a reasonable endgame, which they also were in my eyes considering they died holding hands.

----------------------

Summary:  Five and Lila's shared background of trauma, matched intelligence, and similar personalities means they make sense. They shared a bond that was only further strengthened during their years of isolation. For 7 years they only had each other to rely on. This inevitably created an intimacy and relationship that couldn’t be compared to what they had had with anyone else. Outweighing what they did to Diego when you consider all context. Lila and Five ended up being human and vulnerable with each other on a level they hadn’t been with anyone else. Ultimately Lila’s refusal to deny her feelings for Five, her relief when he returned, him comforting her as she sent her family away and then finally them dying hand-in-hand, showed that they were endgame.

[akutasoda]

“the longer you wait, the closer you get to suffocating”

--love wasn't necessary to be a stoneheart, and so he buried it deep beneath facade's. so far below that he couldn't recognise the signs of love even when they were staring right at him.

--warnings - gn!reader, angst no comfort(?), some fluff, unknowingly pining??, maybe ooc, wc - 1.8k

--a/n: i think im allergic to making him happy :/ anyway i feel like this is kind of rushed but rrghhh (shouts to the amazing @mitsvriii and @theother-victoria for proofreading)

aventurine never loved.

the stoneheart never knew the embrace of a loved one, soft-spoken genuine words, or even what it was to even recognise the signs. love was a foreign concept. something that wasn't needed in the world of contracts and lies, it was something that could be used against you, to punish someone foolish enough to think with their heart and not their brain.

he didn't need it anyway. in some distant past of golden sands and gleaming smiles, love was common. childlike wonder and affection was exchanged between families and those considered family, but that didn't last long. scorching flames rained down upon them, loved ones buried beneath the serene sands and forgotten.

the love made it hard to let go. traumatic to watch as every single person the boy cared for succumbed to pain and death's cold embrace, his tears did nothing. they didn't convince those that started the massacre to stop, to spare even one shred of the boy's livelihood because they didn't have love. the massacre was only a means to an end - emotional attachments were insignificant.

the scars never healed, the sights were forever engraved into the young avgins mind. the only time he could really dwell on them however was in the rare moments of silence he had. from his life as a young avgin to his life as a stoneheart, at every step and every turn something happened to him.

for someone blessed with luck, it never felt like it. they say that the end justifies the end, but he would prefer the end never arrived if he had to go through all the suffering and misfortune to get there. it was as if his luck only worked if he went through mental turmoil and struggle beforehand.

no matter what he lost, it all turned out for him in the long run. but was losing everything he had worth the luck that allowed him to live on with those memories?

---✩

you'd met through mutual acquaintances, those who weren't as afraid to let people into their lives - namely topaz.

he'd caught a glimpse of you with topaz as he roamed the halls of one of the IPC’s main buildings. naturally he was intrigued. aventurine had never seen you before and, judging from how close you and topaz were acting, you must have been of some importance to her.

topaz was approached by her colleague after you'd bid farewell a while ago. she had no obligation to actually tell him who you were, topaz liked maintaining a good work - life balance and you were a part of her personal life, aventurine was mainly a part of her work life. however, she obliged anyway, she trusted him more than the other stonehearts.

it was a short explanation, you were simply a friend of hers that she'd asked to stop by because work was piling up lately and topaz couldn't have seen you otherwise. topaz could see aventurines interest from a mile away, uncharacteristic coming from him, but she knew that he would play it off as a passing intrigue - still out of character in her opinion.

but topaz wasn't as blind as aventurine insisted he was and so perhaps she deliberately tried to ask you to visit her just before she knew aventurine was going to be around. she wasted no time in subtly introducing the two of you properly, before anyone knew it, you and aventurine proved to be an unrivaled match.

it was almost shocking how quickly you worked your way into the stonehearts life. developing a closer relationship than with anyone else aventurine knew - even topaz was shocked. soon it was like aventurine had known you since before he adopted such an identity.

you gave him a warmth that he could only dream of now. one that a previous form knew of well but now, it was a foreign concept. he couldn't recognise the signs, see what everyone else saw when you two were around each other. your constant affection was a clear sign that you were friends, but eventually somewhere along the line, that friendship blossomed into a longing for something more.

you tried subtle advances, hints and such to suggest a genuine interest in aventurine as something more. everything you laid down, he didn't pick up - if he did, he didn't show it.

however, aventurine was blind. a fool when it came to looking emotions in the face, unable to see the signs and pushing anything that bubbled to the surface as far down as possible. aventurine didn't need anything other than acquaintances or business partners - friends were a wild exception but even he sometimes denied it mentally.

everyone that knew it well enough knew, it was glaringly obvious. even to veritas as he watched the stoneheart perk up at the notification his phone showed him. undoubtedly a message from you, basing the assumption on how quickly he responded or how he smiled like a dumbstruck fool.

about half an hour ago, aventurine barged into the doctor's office and slumping down in his chair. ratio didn't care, too used to it by this point and too focused on the current problem that plagued his mind and caused him to work tirelessly to solve.

it was about ten minutes ago that aventurine resigned to his phone after ratio's lack of interaction with him - he sighed as the doctor clearly saw more interest in his equations. now, he was messaging you.

“any developments” ratio’s voice snapped aventurines head up from his phone, looking quizzically to the doctor

he paused “what do you mean?” slowly setting his phone down

now it was ratio's time to sigh “you and your obvious infatuation” pointing toward the stonehearts phone

“what? no.” a nervous laugh escaped him “acquaintances, that's all we are. you're thinking too much into this doctor”

to ratio, aventurine was clearly in denial. dismissing the situation at any given time and so he went back to his equation - it was more entertaining than fighting with aventurine’s denial.

“fine, forget i asked” ratio began to shift his entire attention away from the gambler. aventurine stared at the doctor for a bit too long

he could sense the other man's gaze and so ratio merely sighed “let me offer you some advice gambler”

aventurine almost wanted to laugh, veritas ratio offering him emotional advice. a rather comical situation in his opinion

“you have to put your heart out there, it may be broken but that's how you know you have one” ratio’s words halted him, staring almost wide eyed as the doctor retreated

maybe he should've taken that advice.

---✩

when aventurine was first assigned his mission for penacony, he immediately told you. there were no specific details involved, just that he was going away for a bit due to work and so wouldn't be around. it wasn't entirely uncommon for him to do so, and you merely acknowledged it and wished him well, a safe return even.

unfortunately, aventurine hadn't told you a key detail. he never planned to return. guilt consumed him when he didn't tell you, hearing you wish him well really set it in, but this was a choice he made. one that he was determined to not go back on.

as soon as opal gave him the whole mission brief, he knew what had to be done. accepting the mission meant accepting his fate, both him and opal were very aware. neither of them stopped aventurine however.

but aventurine didn't know how you'd react. he could guess that it wouldn't be well, seeing as barely anyone would react well to someone they cared about telling them that they planned to never return after a mission. so aventurine withheld his real intent in order to save you the trouble.

aventurine didn't want a fussy send off. admittedly the way he planned to go would be anything but quite or lowkey, but he knew that you'd try and stop him. to convince him to change his mind and find an alternative that would involve him seeing another day.

but you didn't know.

aventurine reciprocated your genuine smile when you wished him well before he finally left for penacony. that would be the last time he saw that smile.

---✩

penacony was flashy, he expected no less from the planet of festivities. bright lights, billboards, unique food on every corner and varieties of people. they would all be the witnesses to his planned spectacle, the more the merrier in his opinion.

he couldn't miss the way that his eyes lingered for a beat more than they should on certain stores. the products inside temporarily making his thoughts drift back to you, making a mental reminder to himself to buy it for you later but reminding himself that it would be pointless - although his subconscious would make him buy it and immediately sent it to you.

even in the chaos that was penacony and it's guests, you still found a way to wind up in his thoughts - bringing his thoughts about the mission to a temporary halt and having a moment of respite. brief memories flashing in his mind that made him stop and smile, the sentimentality getting to him.

but it wouldn't change his mind.

aventurine never allowed his emotions to get in the way of work. you wouldn't make an exception. he stopped caring for his own life ages ago, time and time again it was beaten into him and it was the only way he could've gotten this far.

emotions had never done anything but hurt him, caused him more pain than worth. he was no longer kakavasha. he was aventurine, one of the ten stonehearts and they valued results, not petty feelings. no business deal worked out when you let your heart get in the way.

no plan worked when every minute he was thinking about what could've been. aventurine was being dumb, you wouldn't love him. all those signals were simply you being a friend, nothing more - and he should be happy that you even saw him as such. aventurine shouldn't be wishing for more.

a heavy sigh escaped him as he snapped out of his thoughts. the lights at clock studios theme park seemed brighter, tauntingly so, as of they were out to mock him with happiness that could've been and yet he still chose the darkness of death. tucking his hand behind him, shaking, he stepped heavy steps toward the stage.

the show must go on.

---✩

it was cold.

pitch black endlessness illuminated by the symbol of nihilty’s form.

he looked down at his hands, shaking more than ever and he wasn't even putting his life on the line, then he looked up.

kakavasha.

had he died? were these the final moments of aventurine?

he'd soon learn they weren't. and as that emanator walked away, he realized that he lived. he failed. and yet, was it really a failure if he could see you one more time?

maybe, just maybe, he could finally own up to his feelings.

rest of the "series"

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn, @https-sourlimes

[guppybibi]

(PLEASE TELL ME YOU'VE SEEN THIS)

Simon knew it's always been you when you guessed his favorite color right on the first try, but honestly between him and the rest of the Task Force, they knew fully well that he didn't have a favorite color.

To him it was stupid, what's the use of knowing someone's favorite color? Yet somehow a lot of the people he met still used this as an icebreaker to get to know each other better (which Simon also found irrelevant, he's just here for business.) like the two of them were still in elementary school.

Simon always simply just said 'black' in response to these nonsensical questions, only to be met with comments like how boring that was or that black wasn't a color, it was a shade. Why did it even matter that much? Why bother?

Yet somehow you manage to mold his perspective into something more different, more open than how it used to be. You stood before him, all excited like a little kid running on a mountain of sugar while you attempt to guess his favorite color.

Shouting out with all your might & confidence, "yellow!" you said. Seriously? He didn't think he gave off the vibes of a person liking yellow, what exactly about him made you feel that your answer was right?

He shrugged, shaking his head. After that occurrence though, yellow seemed to appear in every path he took, seeming like an obstacle placed in front of him. Over time though, it started to look like less of a hindrance and maybe more of a..silver lining in the dark clouds. Yeah, he'll give it that.

It was everywhere, making Simon soon realize that maybe knowing someone's favorite color wasn't all that stupid. Knowing someone's favorite color allows you to see through them, to see beyond their being and to know who they are as a person.

With that said, Simon thinks he'll stick to red or black for no particular reason in mind..Well maybe because he had his yellow already, you.

After you came to his life, you surrounded him with yellow, leaving in him a stain that was practically impossible to wash out. Flowers poking against his scarred skin where you lay, he takes in the fact that the now haunting yellow will follow him to the afterlife.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dear Y/N

My love for you is fierce and all-consuming. I would do anything to keep you by my side, even if it means going against everything and everyone. I would follow you to the ends of the earth and back just to be near you. Your every action, every word, every gesture is like a drug to me. I become obsessed, obsessed with every move you make, and it drives me crazy. I want to protect you, possess you, and make you mine and mine alone. Don't ever think of leaving, because I'll never allow it. You're mine. I know every little detail about you. Your favorite color, food, and the way you laugh. And the way you bite your lip when you're nervous, the way you twirl your hair when you're thinking. I've memorized every scar on your body and the way you move. And I would do anything to ensure that no harm comes to you. You're the most important person in my life. And don't forget it.

I've watched you from afar, studying you, and learning every part of you. Your fears, your dreams, your hopes, your secrets. I know your favorite books, movies, and music. I've watched you grow and change, and it's only made me love you more. I know your every move, every step, and I will always be there, watching and waiting. You're the center of my world, the reason I breathe, and I won't let anything or anyone take you away. I know you better than you know yourself. I know your strengths and weaknesses, I've seen every side of you, and I love them all. I've seen you at your best and your worst, and it only makes me love you more. Whenever you're away, I wonder if you think of me. Do you dream of me at night like I dream of you? I hope you do, because you're all I think about. I think about how your hand would feel in mine, how your lips would feel on mine, and how your body would feel against mine.

I wonder how it would feel to hold you close, to feel your breath on my skin, and to hear your heartbeat against my chest. I'm counting down the seconds until I can see you again. I count the days, the hours, the minutes, and the seconds until I can see your face until I can hear your voice, and until I can touch you again. You complete me, and I can't stand to be away from you. I'll wait as long as it takes, I'll fight as hard as I need to, just to be near you. Every time we're together, I feel like I'm in a dream. Your touch, your smile, the way you look at me, and it all makes my heart skip a beat. But the thought of ever losing you, of ever being apart, is enough to drive me crazy. I don't know what I would do if I ever lost you if I ever lost your love. The thought alone fills me with a sense of dread and desperation. I need you like I need my next breath. I know I'm a little intense, a little obsessive, but I can't help it. You do something to me. You make me feel things I never thought possible. You make me feel alive, and I'd do anything to keep that feeling going. I'd burn the world down just to hear you laugh, just to see you smile. I'd fight off monsters, or gods, or anything that tried to come between us. I sometimes wonder if I'm a little too much for you. I know I can be intense and maybe a little overprotective. But it's just because I care about you so much. I'm scared to lose you, to lose your love. I see the way other people look at you, and I want to hurt them, to make them pay for even daring to think about you. I know it's wrong, but I can't help it. The thought of you with anyone else drives me crazy.

I can be a little possessive, I admit it. I'll watch you like a hawk when you're around other people, especially other men. I'll study how they look at you, how they talk to you, and how they touch you. And if I think they're getting too close, I'll step in, and make my presence known. I know it's not fair to you, I know it can be suffocating, but I can't help it. I just can't risk losing you, not even to another person's harmless flirtations. I know it's not healthy, but I sometimes go through your things. Your phone, your purse, your diary - I go through all of it. I want to know everything about you, every secret, every thought, every dream. I know it's not right, I know it's a violation of your privacy, but I can't help it. I need to know every part of you, even the parts you try to hide. I find myself watching you sometimes. When you're sleeping, when you're showering, when you're getting dressed. I know it's creepy, but I can't help myself. You're just so beautiful, so perfect. I want to know every inch of your body, every freckle, every scar. I want to touch you to feel your skin against mine. But I know I can't, not until you're mine. So I just watch, and I wait, and I dream. I know I'm not perfect, and I know my love can be a little overwhelming. But I hope you can see that it's a love that comes from the depths of my soul, a love that will never fade, never die. I'll wait for you, I'll fight for you, I'll do anything to make you happy, to make you mine. And if you ever doubt my love, just look into my eyes, and you'll see the truth there. Because there's only one person in the world I love, and that's you.

Yours forever.

[thoughtfulchaos773]

Neil Fak- The simple, innocent man Carmy once was.

Since Carmy is back home, he's outgrowing his naviety

What caught my attention is that Carmy and Fak are interested in flowers. However, Carmy loses hope and gets rid of the flowers in season 3. We can associate flowers with joy, innocence, love, and sentiments, which are all absent in Carmy's life in season 3. But he desires that innocence again something Fak carries. But there's both pros and cons to this way of life.

Fak is who Carmy would have become if he had stayed in Chicago and continued to be around Richie and Mikey. He would have immersed himself in the ballbreaker game, trying to win and ultimately losing his potential.

Did you notice that Fak isn't introduced to the story until Sydney is introduced? When season 1 begins, life is now too complicated for Carmy to understand, and a mind like Fak's can only narrate it simply.

In some way Fak is a version of Carmy. The innocent version.

Fak and Carmy - we're told they're best friends or butt buddies as Richie puts it.

Fak's adolescent mind - naivety thinks everyone is his best friend.

Since Carmy has gotten older, he realizes he carries more scars and wonders what a best friend is. He even questions if Mikey is his best friend.

As the series progresses, Carmy is coming to terms with the fact that relationships are complicated and not as simple as he initially thought. It's easy for him to resort to anger and violence like the Ballbreaker game when things become too complicated to understand. However, Carmy needs to mature in order to be the person his family needs. Being naive about relationships, people, and emotions won't help him.

I want to acknowledge @outmakingmoonshine for this outstanding, detailed meta on whether or not Syd and Carmy were planned. I re-read the script where Fak is introduced. In so many words, Carmy is saying that a sappy love story won't save the characters this time. Fak is raising the stakes, making winning at life a more significant risk. He gives Claire Carmy's number, adding more risk to the love story between Sydney and Carmy.

This subtext is a prediction- Sydney and Carmy's relationship is heading towards difficult feelings, and it becomes even more complex as they grow. Calling in Fak can hopefully help Carmy navigate, allowing him to somehow narrate an easier story than what's about to be told.

From Fak's innocent perspective, the game "Ball Breaker," known for its violence, is just too difficult because there's more to it. From Fak's perspective, the game or story (life) is too confusing to beat. Fak is the one who's raising plays to a dollar. A higher risk for a story about manhood and ball busting. Love.

Ballbreaker Game is gone. Now Fak is left to play Cupid.

Season 2 Ball breaker is over, and we're left with the game of who's in love with you—who could be dating who—with both Richie and Fak playing the game of cupid.

Fak sees it simply. Marcus and Sydney should hook up because they like each other. And carmy is in love with claire. Why shouldn't they get together?

He's not paying attention to syd and carmy's part. It's too difficult of a part of the game or story to navigate.

We need to take Fak's input on love with a grain of salt because he insists that Carmy is his best friend, just like everyone else.

It's just too difficult

Think of the upcoming sydcarmy scenes. 2x09 Carmy grows up a bit realizes that he has to be the guy his family expects him to be- the man where everyone can rely on him. This moment of growth has carmy wanting to fix the table or relationship with Sydney without faks help or naivety coming to mend it. The same as 3x04 when Sydney is ready to talk to Carmy about his consistent miscommunication Fak is pushed away.

Because this is a story about manhood, Carmy's growth involves shedding naivety, embracing complex emotions, and becoming the man his family needs.

But he is still wondering how he can find the balance to embrace his innocence and where he can stop and smell the roses while still growing up.

Tagging: @currymanganese @moodyeucalyptus @vacationship @whenmemorydies @brokenwinebox @fresaton

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

We are heading into a bit of a quieter period for QL corner, with two shows ending now and another next week. At least we still have a true banger airing to sustain us through the drought. Smells Like Green Spirit is also now airing in Japan but has not yet been picked up for international distribution (pray for it to get to us soon). These shows are available for weekly streaming on Gaga unless otherwise noted.

Happy of the End

CWs: Blood and gore, child abandonment, child molestation, childhood sexual slavery, death, family rejection, heavy scarring, human trafficking, rape, sexual coercion and exploitation, suicidal ideation, suicide mention

This week was relatively lighter compared to last week's very rough episodes, but still so laced with sadness even in its happy moments. Haoren mourned his mother, and finally admitted to himself, and to Chihiro, that she was never protecting him. The show dug deeper into how this bond between them is giving them both a reason to shake off their apathy about survival, though that is definitely touch and go for both of them. The way Haoren experienced a few moments of happiness and immediately jumped to the conclusion that he would like to die now because he'll never top this feeling was telling, as was Chihiro casually laying down in the street and not moving until Haoren dragged him away. They don't have any real hope for a better life, but they each seem more invested in the other's survival than their own, and that is giving them something to cling to. It was nice to see them have some moments of trust and connection between them, and for Haoren to finally feel safe enough to strip himself bare, physically and emotionally. I'm bracing for a rough final week, with Haoren's former enslaver coming after Chihiro in a bid to destroy the source of Haoren's new happiness. I don't really know what to hope for in terms of an ending for these characters; I just hope the show can leave us with the sense that their relationship mattered and gave them something they can each hold onto.

Love is Like a Poison

This episode had me screaming with laughter and delight. Haruto can read his Ryo-kun like a book, and Shiba can't seem to figure out which way is up. I don't even want to describe all the hilarious gags and sexy tension and extremely unsubtle metaphors in this episode; I don't want to ruin it for anyone. Go watch!

Chaser Game W 2

Of all the great JQL we've gotten in the last year, why this one got picked up for a second season I could not tell you. I was less than impressed with season 1, and I don't have high hopes this next go round will be any better. Especially after watching the first ep of this new season, in which they unceremoniously undid the ending of the last in a laughably silly way only to introduce a new, more annoying conflict. They could have made something of a story about Fuyu trying to work out a way to manage her family life to be with Itsuki, but they'd rather hand wave that away via gay penguins in favor of a new love triangle. Whatever, show. Here we go again, I guess! I’ll be watching this one mostly to support the ratings.

Tagging @bengiyo to do our last anime update for the next little while, as Twilight Out of Focus has officially ended its run and there is no new animated ql on the horizon.

[hungermakesmonsters]

Love, Sick Love

Chapter Three

Plot summary : Working at one of the shadier bars in Brooklyn, you have one rule; don’t mess around with the patrons. Most of them are criminals, dangerous. None more so than Billy Russo, but Billy believes that rules are made to be broken. Especially your rule. One lapse in judgement is all it takes for Billy to decide that you’re his, and he’s never been the sort of man to take rejection well.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Stalker behaviour. Also spider/spider bite mentions. All chapters will deal with dark and smutty themes, including but not limited to stalking. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 6.1k

A/N : Things start to get dark from this chapter onwards.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO

Master List

Chapter Three

You were aching when you woke, muscles stiff and skin left littered with the marks of his affections, and, true to his word, you could still feel him. Intimately. He’d left you feeling sore and used and, in the cold light of day, it was easy to regret it. 

As much as you’d enjoyed it, as much as you’d wanted it at the time, the morning after offered you a certain level of clarity and it was easy to see all the ways that it had been a mistake.

Beside you, he was sprawled out, deep in sleep and looking so relaxed and vulnerable that you couldn’t help but wonder when he’d last slept so soundly. Despite your regret, you didn’t want to wake him and ruin what seemed like the first truly peaceful moment that he’d had in ages.

In the morning light you could see that it wasn’t just his face that bore scars. His whole body was a tapestry of marks and imperfections (though to think of anything on him as imperfect  felt so wrong because, even marked as he was, he was still attractive). One scar in particular drew your attention. Across his shoulder, a thick pinky-white scar, faded with age but still very much noticeable. There was a pang of remorse in your stomach, daring to wonder if you’d hurt him when you’d grabbed his shoulder last night.

For a few sweet moments, you couldn’t help but lay there, watching him sleeping and thinking about how things could be if your circumstances were just a little different.

Your night together had been unexpected. Billy had given you something that you hadn’t even realised that you wanted or needed, and he’d shown you what it felt like to have someone want you so much that they lost all composure and control. It was thrilling and alluring. And terrifying.

But, you could tell that he was trouble - or that he was in trouble - and you couldn’t get caught up in anyone else’s shit. You couldn't risk letting a man like Billy get close to you, no matter how he'd made you feel.

Still, there was something about him, something that made you wonder what-if.

It would have been so easy to curl up beside him, to let your hands wander over his body until he woke up and gave you a repeat performance of last night. Your thighs clenched at the thought and, despite how thoroughly you'd been fucked only hours before, you felt that familiar heat spark to life inside you.

Looking down, you realised that the sheet around his waist was tented and without thought, you reached down to slowly uncover him. You moved with all the skill and caution of a cat burglar, peeling back the sheet to reveal -

Fuck.

He hadn't given you the chance to appreciate it last night; long and thick, with the slightest curve. You bit your lip staring down at his cock, now understanding why you ached. It was inch after inch of perfection - though that thought alone left you feeling completely ridiculous. The heat inside you burned hotter, a desperate feeling of arousal taking hold. 

Suddenly you reached a decision; fucking him just one more time wouldn't change anything. You'd wake him with your lips - you weren't usually a fan of blowjobs but the sight of his cock and the way that the tip had started to leak had your mouth watering. You’d wake him up, rile him up, then lay back and let him take control. 

You hated how right Jenna had turned out to be, but you hated even more just how eager you felt for more. Dick-matised. That’s what you were, even if you knew it could only last while he was still there in your bed.

Cautiously, you moved, reaching down towards him, ready to take him in your hand, then your mouth. But before your fingers could reach him, Billy took a gasped breath and his whole body tensed. You pulled away, getting out of bed and taking a step back, cheeks heating, feeling like you’d just been caught doing something wrong. Whatever spell you’d been under was well and truly broken as you looked at him, realising that he was still sleeping, that he hadn’t caught you out.

He rolled onto his side and let out a pained sound, his breathing laboured. 

A nightmare.

He was having a nightmare.

You took another step back, and were quickly brought back to the extremely messy reality of your situation when you stood on the condom he’d dumped on the floor the night before. 

All you could think was how he wouldn’t want you to see him like that, and how seeing him in that position changed things, messed them up even more. It gave you the certainty that you’d been searching for only minutes before; this had all been a mistake. You couldn’t deal with whatever this was anymore than you couldn’t deal with whatever trouble he was bound to cause in your life.

Instead of doing the decent thing and waking him up, you turned and quickly left the bedroom, pausing only to grab your robe from the back of the door, leaving him to his nightmare and letting him preserve his dignity. In the kitchen you filled the coffee pot and fished a couple of mugs from the cupboard, trying to ignore the sounds of gasps and thrashing in the next room.

By the time the pot had brewed and you had two steaming mugs of coffee, the noises had stopped. And, when you returned to the bedroom, you found him sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. He didn’t notice you moving across the room until you placed a mug on the nightstand for him. Then, when his wide eyes met yours, you caught a flicker of something new; uncertainty.

Billy didn’t say anything and the way he stared quickly made you feel uncomfortable.

“I didn’t know how you took it, so -”

“Black’s fine,” he answered, a noticeable tremor in his voice.

Whatever he’d been dreaming about, it had taken an obvious toll on him, but as bad as you felt for the poor guy, you decided not to mention it.

“I didn’t hear you get up,” he said, shifting a little, glancing around the room like he was worried that some element of his nightmare might be lurking in the dark corners, laying in wait for him.

“I don’t need a lot of sleep,” you shrugged.

Before you could stop him, Billy reached for you, his arm winding around your waist, pulling you towards him. You moved closer without resisting, letting him rest his head on your chest. Without thinking, you started to stroke the back of his head, idly wondering to yourself what he might look like if he let his hair grow out a little. But, then, when you felt scars beneath his hair, you wondered if maybe his hair had been buzzed so he could be treated.

Minutes ticked by and you knew it was wrong to indulge him, to give him any sense that this was anything more than what it had been; a one night stand that you had no intention of repeating. Still, you didn’t move, sensing that he needed a little moment, some slight comfort in order to recover from whatever he’d just been through.

But, when you felt his arm tighten and his fingers pressing into your hip through your robe, you finally took a step back.

“You should drink that before it gets cold,” you nodded at his coffee before lifting your mug to your lips. “I need to grab a shower and get some things done before my shift tonight, are you okay seeing yourself out?”

For a moment you held your breath, eyes fixed on him, trying desperately to conceal the sudden nervousness twisting in your stomach at not knowing how he was going to react. After speaking, you thought that you caught a flash of discomfort and annoyance on his face, but his lips quickly forced a smile.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to get your back?” He asked as he reached for his mug.

“I think you got enough last night,” you retorted, hoping that you could both just laugh and joke about it, rather than it becoming a serious conversation.

“I didn’t hear you complaining.”

“I wasn’t. But that was last night and today is a brand new day.”

“Sounds like something off one of those inspirational posters,” he said, letting out a huff of laughter.

“It is,” you answered, managing to hold back a laugh of your own. “I was thinking about getting one but I couldn’t decide between that one and the ‘I hate mondays’ one.”

The smile on Billy’s lips turned softer, taking on a more wistful quality as he lifted his mug and took another slow drink.

“I, uh - I used to have one those - y’know the one with the kitten on the branch? Said ‘hang in there’.” He took another drink, almost like the thought of it now left a bad taste in his mouth. “Think I got it for Christmas one year at the group home...”

“You were in foster care?” You asked, momentarily forgetting that you were supposed to be getting rid of him and drawing a line under what you’d allowed to happen the night before.

His smile instantly became more guarded, no longer reaching his eyes. Then came an empty sort of laugh. “You look surprised.”

Immediately you felt bad and schooled your expression into something a little more neutral. 

“It’s not that,” you started and stopped abruptly, taking a second to decide what you wanted to say, what you were willing to share. “I mean, I guess I’m a little surprised but it’s not like - I’m not judging you. I spent time in the system too.”

His eyebrows rose almost immediately. 

“Now who looks surprised?” You joked, lifting your mug and taking a slow sip.

“You were in the system?”

You shrugged, holding the mug at your lips and continuing to drink just to postpone answering the question for a few seconds.

“A few times, on and off. My mom didn’t exactly have her shit together, and she didn’t always have the best taste in men...” you explained before taking one last drink and draining your mug, putting an end to whatever this was. “Look, I don’t want to be a bitch, but I really do have things to get done today...”

“Okay, kitten,” he relented far more easily than you expected. Lifting his mug, he drained the last of his coffee and got to his feet, seeming indifferent to the fact that he was still completely naked. “I just need to use the bathroom, then I’ll get outta your way.”

He didn’t wait for an answer or directions, he strode across the room and slipped into your bathroom, seeming to instinctively know that the door on the left was a closet and not the door he needed unlike most of the men who found themselves stumbling around your apartment the morning after. 

You watched him go, noticing the scratch marks that you’d left across his back and the indentations on his ass cheeks from where you’d gripped him too tight. It was impossible to tell if he was deliberately trying to make you regret kicking him out, but it certainly felt that way. Billy didn’t even bother closing the bathroom door, giving you a full view of him as he peed, though you quickly turned your attention to taking the empty mugs to the kitchen, getting out of his way so he could get dressed.

“Last chance to change your mind,” he offered, emerging from the bedroom, fully dressed.

You scooped his jacket off the floor where he’d abandoned it the night before and offered it to him. “Guess I’ll see you around?”

“Count on it, kitten,” he said, pulling on his jacket, “and don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

He didn’t give you a chance to ask what he meant before leaving and you didn’t linger on the thought. Ultimately, you were just glad that he’d left without a fuss and hadn’t tried to talk you into anything else.

You waited a beat after the door had closed behind him before locking it and sliding the bolt into place.

Your first stop was the shower, scrubbing your hair and skin clean, before relaxing beneath the hot water. Closing your eyes, you found yourself remembering everything that had happened between you and Billy, and how it had made you feel. Even after your hot shower, you still ached in that wonderful way. 

And, despite what you’d told Billy, once you were clean, you returned to bed, curling up and drifting off to thoughts of him. You slept off the night before like it was a hangover you were suffering from and not a state of confusion that you just couldn’t shake.

Though that confusion was tainted with a vague hint of irritation when you realised just how many visible marks Billy had left on you. It meant having to wear jeans and a blouse for work, which would inevitably lead to fewer tips.

When you arrived at the bar, you were surprised to find Sam working, shooting the shit with Jake and Billy. He was telling them some bullshit story as you walked past to throw your jacket in the back - because that was what Sam liked to do, he liked to bullshit. You’d gotten used to it pretty quickly. In fact, you were sure you’d heard the story he was telling before, about how he’d almost been caught screwing some Russian mobsters wife and he’d had to climb out the window, and she was apparently so distraught at him leaving, she tried to follow after, chasing him down the street stark naked.

He was the kind of guy who thought he was god’s gift to women when, really, he was just average with a personality that was only bearable in small doses. But he was mostly harmless. 

Mostly.

“Got your wages over there,” he said, giving a vague gesture to the back of the bar. “Still dunno why you insist on cash, thought you were all into paying for things on your phone these days.”

“My landlord’s a dick and only takes cash,” you answered, shrugging and stepping behind the bar, only allowing yourself a momentary glance towards Jake and Billy.

“Hear you had some trouble here last night,” Sam continued.

That made you look at Billy. It made you glare.

“No, it was fine. Just some drunk that’d been kicked out of The Styx,” you explained, still glaring at Billy, pissed that he’d made you look unable to do your job to your boss.

“Good, ‘cause I don’t wanna have to waste money on security just ‘cause you girls can't handle yourselves,” Sam said.

You didn’t answer, instead you turned away and headed for the brown envelope containing your wages, which was sitting on the back of the bar, beneath an upturned glass.

Once you realised what was in the glass, there was nothing that could have stopped the terrified noise that escaped you. You stumbled backwards, hitting the bar and wincing in pain. But the pain barely registered over the ringing in your ears and the feeling of panic clutching at your chest. You struggled to draw breath and found yourself unable to tear your eyes from the glass and the spider within.

Thick black legs knocked at the glass, trying to get out, trying to get to you.

A few seconds passed but the sound of laughter pulled you back to the moment.

“See? Told ya,” Sam was grinning, obviously impressed by his little prank. His attention turned from the men at the bar to you. “The look on your face... fuckin’ priceless.”

Your hand clenched to a fist at your side and you were about to ruin your life and swing for him but, before you could, the door opened and in walked Jenna.

“‘bout time you showed up,” Sam said. “You just missed all the fun.”

Unclenching your fist, you barged past Sam, muttering something about the empties and the back alley, knowing that he’d disappear soon enough.

You made your way outside, bracing yourself against the brickwork and closing your eyes, trying to get the thought of the spider out of your head. Forcing slow, deep breaths, you slowly overcame your panic but it was almost all completely undone when you suddenly felt a hand on your back.

Turning, you found Billy standing there, and that just made everything worse.

“Have a good laugh?” You asked sharply.

“Look, I - I didn’t know that was how you were gonna react,” he said, as if that excused anything. “If I’d known I -”

“What, Billy? Huh? What would you’ve done?” You asked, though it was very clear that you didn’t want or need an answer. “Make me look worse in front of everyone in there? Make it look like I can’t handle it? Like I need protecting?”

The sudden outburst caught him off guard and he took a step back, but his retreat was only tactical. “You think you don’t need protecting?”

“Who’s gonna protect me, Billy? You?” You almost laughed at the thought.

“You’re damned right I will.”

“I don’t want your protection. I don’t need it.”

You tried to step past him, only to find his hand on your wrist, pulling you back to face him. Billy didn’t say anything, it was like he was struggling to find the words, like he didn’t trust himself not to say something that would make all of this worse. His jaw clenched and his eyes stayed fixed on yours, gaze unwavering, unblinking.

Pulling, you tried to free yourself from his grip, but Billy held on.

“Let me go,” you told him.

The demand seemed to shake something loose in Billy, and he released you, awkwardly shaking his head, like he was trying to clear whatever thought he’d just been caught up in.

Not willing to wait to see what he might say or do next, you headed back inside. You could tell he was following only a step behind, but he remained silent, letting you walk away from him.

“Jake just told me what happened,” Jenna started before you could even take a breath.

Why was everything suddenly going wrong? It was as if you’d had too much of a good thing last night, and all of this bullshit was the universe trying to course-correct.

“It was just Sam being an asshole,” you shrugged, though your eyes immediately moved to the back of the bar to make sure the spider was gone. Thankfully, it was (the one good thing to happen to you today).

“I’m not talking about Sam, I’m talking about last night.”

There was no holding back the sigh or the way your head dropped. All you wanted to do was grab your things and head home. You wanted to go to bed and start all over again tomorrow, with no Billy, no Sam being an asshole, and no Jenna looking at you like she thought you couldn’t handle yourself.

“It’s a good thing I asked Billy and Jake to keep an eye on things, they -”

“What?” You asked, brought back to the moment by that new piece of information. “You asked a couple of drunks to babysit me?”

There was a grumble from Jake at the bar, but he seemed to know better than to inject himself into a conversation that was quickly becoming an argument. Billy, on the other hand, remained completely silent, watching it all play out.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Jenna answered, “you get attacked but I’m the bad guy for making sure that there was someone around to help?”

“Right, because I’m so fucking useless that I can’t even take care of myself?” You snapped back.

Realistically, you knew that she was right and that, without Billy’s intervention, things could have gone a lot worse than they did. And, honestly, you weren’t even sure why you were so upset about it - because she hadn’t told you? Because Billy hadn’t thought to mention it? Or, maybe it was because you hadn’t even thought to ask him why he was still there. But it made what he’d said to you outside seem a hundred times worse.

They all thought you were weak. That you were some helpless little thing.

Of course, it would blow over; arguments with Jenna always did. You weren’t sure what it was, but you could never stay mad at her. Still, for the next few hours, you kept to yourself, clearing glasses, serving anyone that wasn’t Billy. And it was more than obvious to everyone around that you were ignoring him, ignoring the way his eyes followed you around as you worked.

But Jake - he found himself stuck in the middle, receiving all of your usual charm and attention just to prove a petty point to Billy. He was a customer, just like Jake, nothing more. 

“What is it about you and spiders, anyways?” Jake dared to ask after he’d had enough to drink to loosen his tongue.

Tension ran up your spine and it took a second before you could think of an answer.

“Friend of mine died from a Black Widow bite when I was a kid,” you said, refilling his glass.

“Shit,” he offered sympathetically, blowing out his cheeks. 

“It was my fault,” you continued, “we’d been playing by an old log pile and I dropped this stupid ring that I used to wear. It disturbed a nest and a couple of these big spiders came crawling out, so we ran. But Thomas - he went back later to find my ring and got bitten. Poor kid had a real bad allergic reaction, he didn’t stand a chance...”

“Shit,” he muttered again, his head shaking, eyes dropping, ashamed. “Look, I’m sorry ‘bout earlier - laughing at you. If I’d known...”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you told him.

From the corner of your eye you could see Billy staring, and you knew he’d heard the whole tale, and when you finally dared to look at him you caught an unreadable expression on his face. He didn’t say anything. You didn’t give him the chance to.

By the end of the night, the rest of Jake’s friends had turned up and the whole group had vanished about twenty minutes before closing. 

And, as you and Jenna locked up for the night, it was more than enough time to settle your differences. You explained to her that you’d snapped because of Sam’s prank and because you didn’t like being made to feel useless. Jenna listened and nodded along before telling you that she’d only asked Jake and Billy to keep an eye on things because didn’t want anything bad to happen to you.

In the end you hugged it out and Jenna invited you back to her place to eat leftovers that her mom had made and - well, you’d never been able to say no to Jenna’s moms cooking.

You decided against telling her about Billy or what had happened after he’d ‘saved’ you and, instead the two of you spent the night drinking wine and watching crappy reality shows until you finally crashed on her sofa.

The next morning you briefly headed home to shower and change before heading into the city, a little day off ritual you’d developed over the last year. 

The subway was packed and you quickly put on your headphones, drowning out all the noises and people around you. You didn’t look up until you felt a prickling sensation on the back of your neck, like someone was watching you. You looked around, silently telling yourself that you were being paranoid, but, as you looked forward again, you saw him.

Your heart skipped a beat, breath catching, but by the time you looked again, he was gone. It was just your imagination - though why you were imagining Billy following you, was something you really didn’t want to think about. But, once the thought was in your head, it was hard to shake and, for the rest of the day, you found yourself looking over your shoulder.

Every time you caught a glimpse of short dark hair, or a jacket like his, you found yourself wondering if it was him.

You even approached one guy as you left your favourite coffee shop in the village, about to throw your steaming hot latte in his face when you realised that it wasn’t Billy when he turned and looked your way. 

Feeling ridiculous, you decided that you were going to put him out of your mind. You weren’t going to think about him any more, you were just going to think of him as a one night stand whose name you couldn’t remember. Outside of the bar, Billy no longer existed.

By the time you got back to your apartment, you were exhausted and most of your pay was already gone, except a little kept aside for bills and food. You’d replaced the clothes that Billy had destroyed, buying yourself a pleated plaid skirt that you were sure would earn you more than a few extra tips.

But even in the safety of your apartment, something felt off.

You couldn’t put your finger on it and, again, you felt ridiculous. 

The draw on your nightstand was slightly open and, for the life of you, you couldn’t remember if it had been closed or not. It bothered you far more than it should - you had a habit of leaving drawers and cupboards open when you were in a rush, and you didn’t think Billy had bothered to shut it after he’d taken out a condom when he’d been with you.

That was probably it. 

What other reason could there be for that drawer being open? It wasn’t like anyone was going to break in to steal a condom or the dildo you kept in there. Pushing the drawer shut, you collapsed onto the bed, deciding that you’d have an early night, that all your paranoia was due to two late nights of drinking.

And, it helped. You felt a lot better the next morning, rested, calmer. Which was a good thing because it was finally Friday, and that meant that the bar was going to be slammed. So, you decided to wear your new skirt and spent way longer than usual on your make-up and hair, needing to up on the tips you’d missed out on the other night because of your bad mood.

An audible sigh of relief left you when you reached Sam’s and you realised that Billy didn’t seem to be there. As you walked through the bar, you let your gaze wander, checking the tables at the back, looking for any sign of him.

“Lover boy’s not here,” Jenna told you. “Wasn’t here last night either. I think you must’ve upset him the other night.”

“Oh well,” you said, grinning, “guess we’ll have to go back to making tips the old fashioned way.”

Shrugging off your coat, you strut past her into the back, letting her see your new clothes. 

Jenna laughed at your little display and called after you; “good thing Paul’s helping out tonight, with you dressed like that we might need to hose some of the regulars down.”

You laughed at the thought, but you were glad to know that you and Jenna would have help. Paul was an old friend of Sam’s, semi-retired, but he liked to come in and help out whenever he needed some extra cash. And, fortunately for you and Jenna, everyone knew not to fuck around with Paul. 

Rumour had it that he used to run with some biker gang, though others would say he was an ex-hit man for the mafia. It was all bullshit, but Paul liked to indulge it so no one tried to mess with him.

It got busy fast, Jenna cranked up the music and you both got to work. It felt good, it was fun. People were drinking and the tips were coming your way. Everything was going great.

And then you saw him at the bar. 

You hadn’t noticed them slip in, the whole crew, all looking amped up already. It made you wonder where they’d been and what they’d been doing, but you didn’t want to ask.

Taking a breath, you forced yourself to move towards Billy. You were going to do your job and try to put everything else behind you.

“The usual?” You said, not quite able to force a happy and bubbly tone.

“So you’re talking to me tonight?”

“Do you want a drink or not, Billy?” 

“Whiskey.”

As you moved to grab the bottle, you felt his eyes on you, something that he didn’t bother to try and hide when you turned back towards him.

“New outfit?” He asked, eyes drinking in the sight of you.

The way he was looking at you made your cheeks warm and, even though it was the last thing you wanted to think about, suddenly all you could think about was the memory of his head between your thighs and the way his greedy tongue had felt against you.

“Yeah, my favourite skirt got ruined, so I needed a new one,” you told him, pouring his drink.

“You should be careful,” he warned, “I have a feeling that one’s gonna end up getting ruined too...”

“I doubt it,” you retorted flatly, somehow resisting the urge to press your thighs together.

Turning and walking away, you spent the rest of the night so run off your feet that you didn’t even have to try to avoid him, it just seemed to work out that whenever he approached the bar Jenna or Paul served him. It was so busy that you didn’t even have time to think about him or the way you could feel his gaze on you. 

When things started to die down, Paul left you and Jenna to finish up, but there were still plenty of people drinking, so Jenna left the music blaring and the pair of you kept working for your tips.

Soon, it was quiet enough for you to head into the cellar to grab some fresh bottles. It was a relief to be away from the noise upstairs and you decided to take your time, knowing Jenna could handle things fine on her own.

“I’ve gotta be honest, I’m starting to take this whole playing hard to get thing personally, kitten.”

His voice suddenly sounded through the darkness was enough to startle you, shock almost causing you to trip over your own feet as you turned to face him.

“You can’t be down here, Billy,” you warned, not wanting to get pulled into his games.

“Can’t I?” The smirk on his lip tinged his words with a dark sort of amusement that sent a shiver down your spine.

“No, you can’t,” you said, “so...”

You let it hang in the air, hoping that he’d take the hint and that he wouldn’t make things any weirder than they already were, but Billy didn’t move.

“So you are playing hard to get,” he said, taking a step towards you. “Lucky for you, I like games.”

“I’m not playing games,” you answered back, holding your ground despite every fibre of your being telling you that you should move, leave. “You need to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere without what’s mine,” he told you, taking another step, then another.

“There’s nothing of yours down here.”

“We both know that’s not true,” he stopped in front of you, his fingers ghosting over your cheek causing you to recoil and finally take a step back, only to find the kegs at your back.

If he cared about your discomfort, he didn’t let it show. He stepped closer, reaching for you again. Part of you knew that you could scream, but you knew no one would hear you over the music and the noise of the bar. And, besides, it wasn’t like Jenna would be able to do anything, any more than you could.

“So the other night was just an act then?” You asked. Billy looked confused, so you continued. “You beat the shit out of that guy for putting his hands on me, but you’re doing the same thing right now.”

“It’s not the same,” the playfulness dropping from his voice, replaced by something far darker. “I’d never hurt you.”

You bristled as his hand cupped your cheek and his thumb ran over your lips. You glared, pulling away from his touch once more, defiant despite the knot of fear that was tightening in your stomach. Unperturbed by your resistance, he reached for you again, this time grabbing your chin and unceremoniously pressing his lips to yours. 

A shocked gasp escaped you, parting your lips and allowing his tongue entrance. For a moment, you were frozen, letting him take what he wanted. As he kissed you, he pressed closer, pinning you against the kegs, a telltale bulge pressing against your stomach through his jeans.

It took a few seconds to overcome the shock and push him away, swinging your hand and revelling in the satisfying crack of your palm striking his cheek. You managed to create some space, but not enough and not for long. He grabbed you by the wrist and pushed you back again.

“I like it when you’re feisty, kitten,” he said, that playful tone in his voice again, like this was all just a game to him.

“I’m not scared of you,” you spat, trying to pull away from him.

“Where are you tryin’ to go, kitten? I’m not done with you yet.”

“What do you want, Billy?” Your voice threatening to break.

“I told you. I want what’s mine.”

“I’m not yours,” you answered back, trying to shove him again, but this time he didn’t budge an inch.

“Deny it all you want,” he replied, while the fingers of his free hand ghosted over your cheek. “I saw how much you wanted me the other night, how much you needed me. You’re gonna realise real soon that you don’t have a choice.”

Your blood ran cold at the implication in his words, body tensing. Again you thought about screaming but - well, what if you screamed and no one came? Your heart ached at the prospect.

“What are you gonna do?” You finally dared to ask, hating that your voice came out so small and afraid.

“Nothing.”

The word didn’t register. It didn’t make sense. There had to be something he wanted, some reason he was doing this.

“I’m not gonna force myself on you,” he continued, his fingers still tenderly brushing against your cheek. “I’d never do that. I don’t have to. Eventually, you’re gonna realise that you want to be mine.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“It will. I’ll make sure of it,” he told you. “If I have to, I’ll take away everything you have until I’m all that’s left, until you’re begging to be mine.”

“I’ll never beg for you,” you answered back.

“You already have,” he said, barely holding back a laugh.

He was right. You hated how right he was. You’d begged for him that night in your bed, over and over again. You’d begged and pleaded as he’d made you feel things you’d never felt before. Just thinking about it sent a shiver down your spine and stoked that shameful heat between your thighs.

(What was wrong with you that this was turning you on?)

“I’m a patient man, but I’m not gonna wait forever,” he told you, leaning close, lips brushing your ear. “One way or another, you’re gonna be mine, kitten.”

Before you could answer, he was kissing you again, groaning against your lips, fingertips pressed into your cheek. Then he pulled away and turned, leaving you there, uncertain at what the fuck had just happened and how you felt about it. 

But, for a second, at the bottom of the stairs, he hesitated and spoke; “it was bees.”

“What?”  You asked in a confused whisper.

“The story you told Jake, about spiders - you got that from a dumb kids movie, but it was bees not spiders that killed the kid.”

You didn’t say anything.

What could you even say, knowing that he’d caught you in a lie? But Billy didn’t seem to expect anything from you. You watched him disappear up the stairs, leaving you completely alone and, by the time you returned to the bar, Jenna was locking up behind the last customer and Billy was nowhere to be seen.

End Note : For anyone old enough to get the My Girl reference, I'm sorry. I recently remembered how traumatic that was for a kids movie and decided if I had to suffer, everyone else did too 😂 (Also the thought of little Billy Russo sitting and watching My Girl is hilarious for some reason???) From this point on the story will be taking a much darker turn (I know I keep warning about that, but this is really the last time I'm going to explicitly mention it). ALSO I managed to break a key off my laptop keyboard and am having to use a crappy bluetooth keyboard that can be kind of laggy. I think I've caught most of the random typos that slipped through, but if I haven't I'm sorry. I might have to buy a whole replacement laptop keyboard which is money I don't want to spend right now (honestly fuck Dell so much) so just as a warning going forward there might be some dumb typos slipping through.

As always your comments/likes/reblogs/asks/general screaming is always cherished and appreciated. I hope you all have an amazing weekend!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt (and on AO3 at some point in the hours after).

Tag List : @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @sweetserendipity65 @dreadfulxives18 @snowkestrel @ladyblacky

@readingabouthim @cheshirecat484 @broadwaybabe18 @oliviaewl @lincerad

@benbarnesprettygurl @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @whereismymindnow @danzer8705

[mariyekos]

New DMC Anime Trailer Breakdown, Part 1

Okay so thoughts on the new DMC Anime trailer, which you can see here:

Putting things under the cut!

First things first, it's definitely going to at least take a few things from the DMC3 manga.

Second: It at least uses CGI in part....but more than that, on rewatching it... Are those Agni and Rudra!? Which means it also covers DMC3 in part.

Other fun things to note- I'm not sure if Dante's plate is a reference to anything, but he does have New York plates, so we can assume this DMC takes place in the US, even if the games are ambiguously sort of British/European based on architecture and director commentary.

Going to be honest- I'm not sure if these guys are a reference to anything. If they are, it's going over my head, but I could definitely see them just being generic bad guys/hunters.

Rebellion looks nice here! Also, looks like we're continuing the tradition of Dante getting attacked at his shop, because with a Pool table, jukebox, and the posters on the wall, I'm pretty sure this is supposed to be Dante's shop. Fun that we get a shot of him without his coat too, though he must put it on at another point since he has it in the above shots.

Then we have the exploding plane scene, which afaik is new but also feels very DMC. RIP the other people in that airplane though. Still, I like how wacky and over the top it is!

We also have a demon in the background of this shot...

And someone I'm preeety sure is Enzo (from the DMC3 Manga and Bayonetta!) Although on second glance, this guy looks like he might be blond, which Enzo is not. Still, it could just be a design choice they went with.

Following that is a shot of....probably not Jester because of the short nose, but something I'm sure is connected to Arkham in some way. I want to say they wouldn't get rid of his face scar, so I'm banking on there being a plotline related to Arkham having multiple minions Dante has to take down.

The giant hell portal in the sky isn't super special. We see it in both DMC3 and the old DMC anime, after all.

Then water guy...who I also don't remember as an enemy tbh. Could be new, could be my bad memory showing face. But he's a cyclops with axe hands which is interesting.

Dante's bullets are engraved with Jackpot which I find hilarious but also cool. Just imagining him using magic/demonic power to carve that in is great. I do wonder if they're going to have him reload though? Ebony and Ivory generally use magic bullets as far as I remember, but I know Coyote-A ejects shells. This bullet is shot from Ivory though.

EDIT: Looking at it again, these guns aren't Ebony and Ivory. They're both white/grey. Assuming this isn't them being lazy/an animation error, it might be that this is a real bullet...that he engraved using magic or just special gun stuff instead of just making the bullet itself from magic. I am not interested in guns in real life, but I think guns are supposed to have a function where they leave a mark on the bullets they fire so you can identify which gun shot the bullet? So it could be a human-made modification too.

Then there's the demon he shoots, which I think is a reference to Alice and the demons from the DMC3 manga (and a nice reference to the Sin Scissors and other beings that you can get the kill on with a bullet to the mask).

Not totally sure what the thing Dante shoots is, but it looks to be some sort of pendant. Is it some possessed thing that the girl has? Not super important though, because WHY IS ECHIDNA FROM DMC4 HERE?! Not upset, just surprised. Didn't notice this in my first watch.

After that we get Dante saving a girl from a... car? train? Something getting thrown into a diner that reminds me of the one from the old DMC anime, so here's me hoping we might get some fun downtime scenes like we did in that show. Maybe we'll see a strawberry sundae :)

Actually wait-

STRAWBERRY SUNDAE IDENTIFIED! Also I don't have a picture of her on hand, but is this maybe the waitress from that anime? A younger version? I'll look for a picture later, but for the sake of getting this out earlier than later, I'll just say I'm pretty sure she was a redhead too.

EDIT: Rewatching the trailer, the blue cyclops demon from before is in front of a sign that I'm pretty sure is supposed to say Freddie's Diner like in the OG Anime, so I'm going with the waitress being the same woman or otherwise related.

After that we get what looks to be a human that turned into a demon. My bet is that this guy was always a demon who was pretending to be human, but I think it could be interesting if there was a plotline about Arkham transforming humans into demons while trying to achieve godhood.

And hey look, Dante has what looks to be a stab mark through his chest and a hole in his shirt :) i bet this boy is getting stabbed through the chest, let's gooooo!

EDIT: Back, so I'll continue.

On second glance- wait, these guns are both gray, which means they aren't Ebony and Ivory. I'm putting my money into the DMC3 anime including Dante meeting Nell rather than this being an animation/coloring error.

Aaaand I hit the image limit, darn. Part 2 can be found here.

[reidsworld]

Scars of Time Chapter Three: (Don't Fear) The Reaper

Summary: In which you and Logan meet the X-Men.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Fem!Mutant!Reader

Category: Fluff, Angst

Content Warnings: Canon-typical violence, arguing, use of Y/N

Word Count: 5.3k

Song… (Don't Fear) The Reaper by Blue Oyster Cult

Mars speaks… hey… it’s been a while😅 picked this song cause i couldn’t think of anything else that would fit this lmao

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | < Previous Part | Next Part >

2000

The road stretched endlessly ahead, a ribbon of asphalt cutting through the wilderness. Logan gripped the wheel of his truck, eyes focused on the horizon, while you sat beside him, your hand resting lightly on his thigh. It had been three years since that night in the bar, and in that time, your lives had become a shared journey through the vast, ever-changing landscape of North America.

In those three years, you'd weathered countless miles together, each town a fleeting chapter in your story. From the initial sparks of connection, your relationship had deepened into something profound and steady. You’d grown accustomed to the life of constant movement, of nights spent in dingy motels and mornings starting with the scent of gasoline and cigars. Each stop had its own rhythm, its own set of challenges and triumphs, but through it all, you and Logan had found a rhythm of your own.

You'd learned to navigate his world of violence and seclusion with a blend of tenderness and resilience. The nights after his fights were always a mix of adrenaline and intimacy, where the rough edges of his life softened in the glow of your presence. You’d watched him slowly let down the walls he’d built around himself, revealing glimpses of vulnerability that were rare and precious.

Despite the unsteady nature of your life, there was a comforting familiarity in your days together. The way he would glance at you from the driver's seat, the way his laughter would break through the silence of the truck's cab—these were the moments that anchored you, making the chaos of your travels feel almost like home.

But as you settled into this routine, you couldn’t help but feel a lingering restlessness. The sense of always being on the run, the uncertainty of where you’d end up next, gnawed at you. You had found something enduring with Logan, a love that made the dark moments lighter, but there was an unspoken longing for a place where you could both put down roots, a place where the endless road could finally come to an end.

“Where are we headed next?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you.

Logan glanced at you, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Got a gig lined up in Laughlin City. Figured I’d make a little cash.”

You sighed, knowing exactly what that meant. “Another fight?”

Logan’s smirk faded, replaced by a look of mild irritation. “It’s easy money, Y/N.”

You turned to face him, concern etched in your features. “Logan, you don’t need to do this. We don’t need the money that bad.”

“I don’t get hurt,” he countered, his tone defensive. “You know that.”

“I know,” you admitted, your voice softening. “But it’s not about that. I don’t like seeing you in that ring, taking hits just for a few bucks. It… it feels wrong. And I—”

“Y/N, I’m fine,” Logan interrupted, though his tone lacked its usual gruffness. “I can handle it.”

You reached out and placed your hand over his, squeezing gently. “I know you can. But I love you, Logan. And it scares me, watching you fight like that. Even if you don’t get hurt, I don’t want you to keep doing it.”

Logan’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles whitening. He didn’t respond, but the tension in his jaw told you he was listening.

The crowd roared, their shouts echoing off the grimy walls of the underground arena, but for you, the noise faded into a distant hum. Your eyes were fixed on Logan in the ring, the harsh lights casting deep shadows across his face. The man he was fighting was relentless, landing blow after brutal blow, and every strike seemed to land with a sickening thud. Each punch, each slam, was like a knife twisting in your heart. You clenched your fists, your knuckles turning white, as you watched Logan take hit after hit, his normally stoic expression faltering with each brutal impact. The sight of him, battered and bloodied, made it hard to breathe, your worry intensifying with every second he remained in the ring.

As Logan endured the relentless assault, your silent pleas became a quiet mantra in the chaos of the arena. Your eyes never left him, and in the midst of the pounding fists and frenzied crowd, you found yourself whispering, “Come on, Logan. Fight back. You can do it.” Despite the roar of the spectators, your voice, though soft, cut through the din, reaching him clearly thanks to his heightened senses.

Logan’s head snapped in your direction, catching the unwavering support in your eyes. A spark ignited in him, and he straightened, shaking off the disorientation from the pounding he’d endured. With a fierce growl, he shifted gears, his movements swift and precise. The change was instantaneous; where he had been a punching bag, he now became a whirlwind of fury. With a series of powerful strikes and calculated blows, Logan took control, swiftly and decisively turning the tide of the fight. The crowd’s cheers grew louder as the man crumpled under Logan’s relentless assault, and you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.

After the fight, the crowd had mostly dispersed, leaving the area around the cage quiet and littered with the aftermath of the night’s events. Logan emerged from the cage, his chest glistening with sweat and a satisfied, albeit weary, expression on his face. He made his way over to where you were waiting, arms crossed, your eyes tracking his every move with a mix of concern and annoyance.

You approached him as he reached you, handing him his clothes with a sigh. “Here you go,” you said, your voice carrying a hint of frustration. “You know I hate seeing you like this.”

Logan took the clothes from you, pulling his shirt over his head and slipping into the jacket. He met your gaze with a look of regret. “I know, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

You gave him a soft but resigned smile. “I love you.”

He managed a small smile in return, though the guilt in his eyes was evident. “I love you too, darlin'. Now come on, I need a beer.”

You both walked across the dimly lit room to the bar. Logan’s heavy steps were matched by your lighter ones, the silence between you filled with unspoken understanding.

As the two of you sat down on the bar stools, Logan spoke, "I'll have a beer and…"

“I’ll just have some water, please,” you added.

Logan pulled out some cash as he took a drag of his cigar. The bartender quickly brought over your drinks before turning to get Logan’s change. As the TV played the news, you couldn’t help but glance over at the only other person sitting at the bar, a girl.

“Ellis Island… opening its doors again… Preparations are nearly completed for the upcoming United Nations World Summit… The leaders of over 200 nations will discuss issues ranging from… to the mutant phenomenon…”

The last few words spoken by the news reporter caught both your and Logan’s attention. You noticed the girl perk up at those words before turning her head toward you as if she thought you were onto her for some reason. You squinted your eyes as you made eye contact with her.

The sound of footsteps approaching and a tap on Logan’s shoulder caused the two of you to turn around.

“You owe me some money,” the man from Logan’s last fight said. His friend tried to get him to walk away, but he quickly brushed him off.

“No man takes a beating like that without a mark to show for it.”

He shrugged his friend off again and leaned in to whisper in Logan’s ear.

“I know what you are.”

Logan turned his head. “You lost your money. You keep this up, you’ll lose something else.”

The man began to walk away but quickly turned back around with a knife.

“Look out!” the girl shouted.

“Logan!”

Logan turned and pinned the guy. His claws extended on both sides of the man’s neck, the middle claw slowly inching toward his throat.

“Get out of my bar, freak,” the bartender said, cocking his shotgun at the back of Logan's head. In one swift motion, Logan sliced through the shotgun, sending gunpowder and debris flying everywhere.

He growled, glancing between the bartender, the man, and the girl.

“Logan, let’s go,” you said sternly. His claws retracted as he looked into your eyes. You nodded toward the exit before moving to leave. You made eye contact with the girl one last time as Logan followed you out. The weight of their gazes lingered on the two of you as you left the barn-like building.

The truck’s engine rumbled softly as it idled, parked in the dimly lit lot beside the bar. The cool night air seeped through the slightly open windows, mingling with the lingering tension from the night’s events. Logan climbed into the driver’s seat, his movements a bit jerky as he tried to shake off the adrenaline still coursing through him.

You followed him into the truck, the door shutting behind you with a heavy thud. You glanced at him, noting the way his fingers clenched the steering wheel as if trying to ground himself. He glanced over, a hint of defensiveness in his eyes.

“What the hell was that back there?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the frustration bubbling under the surface. “You didn’t need to escalate things like that.”

Logan scoffed, and he shot you a look of irritation. “I escalated things? He was the one who pulled a knife on me, Y/N. I was just defending myself.”

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions in check. “I get that he had a knife, but you didn’t need to go to the extreme. You could’ve handled it differently.”

Logan's expression shifted, the frustration in his eyes mingling with something softer. “What do you want me to do? Let him stab me? I was protecting us.”

You moved closer, placing your hands gently over his. “It’s not just about the fight. It’s about how it affects you. I don’t like seeing you like this—having to fight and getting into these kinds of situations.”

Logan's shoulders slumped slightly, and he looked down at his hands, where the claws had retracted. You could see the residual tension in his grip, a reminder of the struggle that had just occurred.

“Let me help,” you said softly, your voice soothing as you began to heal the lingering pain in his hands, your hands emitting a soft glow. The warmth of your touch seemed to bring a sense of calm, even if the emotional strain was still there.

Logan closed his eyes for a moment, the discomfort easing as your healing ability worked its magic. When he finally met your gaze again, his eyes held a mix of appreciation and regret. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I just… sometimes I feel like I need to prove something, to show that I’m still in control.”

You shook your head, a gentle smile on your lips despite the frustration still simmering. “You don’t need to prove anything to me, Logan. I just want you safe. You mean too much to me to see you getting hurt like this.”

Logan’s gaze softened, and he gave you a small, apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to be more careful.”

You nodded, giving his hands a final reassuring squeeze before pulling back. “That’s all I ask.”

With a sigh, Logan turned the key in the ignition, and the truck’s engine roared to life. As he drove away from the bar, the silence between you was filled with a quiet understanding, the night’s events slowly giving way to the comforting routine of being together.

Logan slowed the truck, his sharp eyes narrowing at the sound of a thudding noise coming from the trailer behind. The faint echo reverberated through the night, unsettling the quiet rhythm of the drive.

“Stay here,” he muttered, his voice low and commanding, the unspoken edge of protectiveness familiar to you by now.

You nodded, not arguing, even though you hated being left in the dark. His hand briefly brushed yours as he reached for the door handle, a silent reassurance before he stepped out, disappearing into the shadows. Alone in the truck, you strained to listen. Muffled voices reached you, Logan's gruff tone unmistakable.

Moments later, the truck door swung open, and Logan climbed back inside, his movements abrupt. The slam of the door jolted the quiet atmosphere, making you raise an eyebrow at him.

“No, you didn’t,” he growled, his face set in a tight scowl.

You shot him a look, silently asking for an explanation. Logan sighed, running a hand through his unruly hair. His frustration hung heavy in the air.

“Just some kid tryin’ to hitch a ride,” he muttered, but you caught the tension in his voice, a hint of something deeper.

You exchanged a glance with him, silently asking really? Before you could press him further, the truck lurched to a stop again. Logan avoided your gaze for a second before the passenger door opened, and a familiar face climbed in—the girl from the bar.

You shifted in your seat, sliding closer to Logan to make room for her. He grumbled under his breath, but didn’t protest. His arm brushed yours, a subtle reminder of the space you two shared—close and protective, even in moments like these.

With a soft smile, you reached into the glove box, pulling out a granola bar. “Figured you might be hungry,” you said, handing it to her.

The girl looked surprised at the kindness, her guarded expression faltering. “Thanks,” she mumbled, quickly taking off her gloves and devouring the snack.

“I’m Rogue,” she said after a moment, her voice tentative but grateful.

“Y/N,” you replied, your tone friendly. “Nice to meet you.”

You offered her a reassuring smile, sensing the weight she carried behind her eyes. She glanced over at Logan, then at you, as if trying to piece together your relationship. When she noticed Logan's dog tags around his neck, her curiosity won out.

“Were you in the army?” she asked, her voice soft but direct. “Don’t those mean you were in the army?”

Logan’s face hardened instantly, and without a word, he tucked the tags back under his shirt. You reached over and lightly touched his arm, grounding him. He didn’t say anything, but the tension in his shoulders eased at your touch. You had that effect on him—an unspoken comfort.

Rogue looked around the truck, her eyes sweeping over the worn seats, the cluttered dashboard, the makeshift home you'd both created on the road. "Wow," she murmured, her voice filled with a mix of wonder and disbelief.

“What?” you and Logan asked in unison, making her pause.

“Suddenly, my life doesn’t look so bad,” she said bluntly, though there was no malice in her tone, just raw honesty.

You scoffed lightly at her words, but it was more amused than offended. “Hey, if you prefer the road…”

“No, no!” Rogue quickly shook her head, her cheeks flushing slightly. “It looks great. Cozy, even.”

You noticed her rubbing her hands together, trying to warm them. Without a second thought, you turned the heater on and gestured towards the vents. “Here, put your hands by the heater,” you suggested warmly, moving to help her.

She recoiled instantly, her body language suddenly tense. “It’s nothing personal,” she explained hurriedly, slipping her gloves back on. “It’s just… when people touch my skin, something happens.”

You furrowed your brow in concern, your curiosity piqued. “What kind of something?” you asked softly.

“I don’t know,” Rogue admitted, her voice quieter now. “They just get hurt.”

There was a heavy silence, only broken by Logan's low voice. “Fair enough,” he grunted, taking a drag from his cigar as he gripped the wheel.

“When they come out, does it hurt?” Rogue asked, her gaze shifting to Logan’s hands.

“Every time,” Logan responded gruffly, but his hand reflexively tightened under yours. You glanced at Logan, noticing his usual stoic expression falter for just a second. You placed your hand gently on his thigh, offering comfort. He didn’t flinch—your touch was something that always calmed him. Even after all this time, you knew the pain he felt from his claws coming out lingered, not just physically, but deep in his mind. You squeezed his thigh gently, silently reminding him he wasn’t alone in this.

“So… what kind of name is Rogue?” Logan asked after a beat, clearly trying to shift the conversation.

Rogue smiled faintly, catching on. “I don’t know. What kind of name is Wolverine?”

You let out a soft laugh before speaking up. “His name is Logan,” you teased, giving Logan a playful nudge. He rolled his eyes but the corners of his mouth twitched slightly, betraying his amusement.

Rogue’s curiosity didn’t stop there. “Marie,” she said, introducing herself. “Are you like us? Why don’t you have a code name?”

You shrugged, glancing out the window as the road stretched endlessly ahead. “Yeah, I can heal people,” you said, a bit casually. “But I guess I’ve never really had a reason to come up with one.”

Rogue seemed to take a liking to you, her smile warmer now. “You should think of one. Something cool.”

“I’ll let ya know when I do,” you smiled back at her, then turned to Logan, who was watching the exchange silently. There was something unspoken between the three of you now—a connection. Maybe not a family, but something close enough to survive the road ahead.

“You know, you should wear your seatbelt,” Rogue said, breaking the tense silence that had settled in the truck.

Logan glanced sideways at her, the edge in his voice unmistakable. “Hey, look, kid, I don’t need advice on auto safety–”

Before he could finish, the truck lurched violently as it crashed headlong into a fallen tree, the impact cutting him off mid-sentence. The force sent Logan hurtling through the windshield, shattering glass in every direction. Your heart pounded as you braced against the dashboard, barely processing the chaos.

By the time you gathered your senses, you could already see Logan slowly standing up outside, a deep gouge in his face knitting itself back together as his healing factor kicked in.

“You guys alright?” His voice, gruff but steady, called out.

You nodded, shaken but unhurt, though your eyes immediately darted to Rogue. She was clearly panicking, her hands gripping the seat tightly. “I’m stuck!” she shouted, her voice rising with fear.

Logan’s attention snapped to something behind you. His nose twitched, and his expression darkened, eyes narrowing as he sniffed the air. That familiar, unnerving look crossed his face—the one that always signalled danger.

“Lo?” you asked cautiously, fear creeping into your voice as his claws suddenly unsheathed with a menacing snikt.

Before you could react, a massive figure lunged out of the darkness, crashing into Logan with bone-crushing force and throwing him into a nearby tree. The sickening sound of the impact echoed in the night.

“Logan!” You screamed, heart racing. Instinctively, you scrambled to get out of the truck, but your attention shifted to the trailer, where flames were already licking at the edges. Rogue needed help, and fast.

You turned back to her, torn between rushing to Logan’s side or getting Rogue to safety. The loud, bone-rattling sound of Logan’s body slamming onto the roof of the truck made your decision for you. You forced yourself to trust that Logan would be okay—he always was.

The fire roared louder, and the truck groaned under the heat, its metal frame straining. You leaned over toward Rogue, your voice trying to sound calm despite the chaos. “It’s gonna be okay, I’ve got you.”

Panic flared in Rogue’s eyes, but she nodded, her breath coming in shallow gasps. The fire cast eerie shadows, growing brighter as the situation worsened. You kept trying to reassure her, working quickly to free her from the seatbelt.

Suddenly, the sound of gunfire erupted, and you spotted two figures in the distance. A beam of energy shot toward the towering man attacking Logan, sending him flying back. Your heart pounded harder—whoever they were, they were helping.

Just as you managed to loosen Rogue’s seatbelt, the truck door was ripped open. A man stood there, his face set with determination. Without a word, he shot a beam of red light from his eyes, severing the seatbelt in one clean hit. His presence was commanding, and there was no time to question it.

“Come on!” he shouted, pulling you and Rogue free just as the truck exploded behind you. The force of the blast sent heat and debris in every direction, but you were already clear, tumbling into the dirt with Rogue at your side.

The hum of the jet’s engines filled the cabin, but it did little to calm your nerves. Logan lay on a stretcher nearby, still unconscious, his usual tough exterior softened by sleep. His face was unmarred now, thanks to his healing factor, but you could sense the tension still lingering in the air. You sat beside him, your hand resting on his arm, grounding yourself in the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Across from you, Rogue sat stiffly in her seat, her wide eyes darting between the unfamiliar figures in the cockpit. The man behind the controls—Cyclops—glanced back occasionally, his visor hiding any readable expression. The woman beside him, with striking white hair and an air of quiet calm, gave you a reassuring smile before turning her attention back to the flight.

You could feel the tension building in your chest. The silence was heavy, and finally, you couldn't hold back any longer. “Where are you taking us?” you asked, your voice sharper than intended. Your protective instincts were on high alert.

Storm turned her chair slightly to face you, her tone gentle but firm. “We’re taking you to a safe place—the X-Mansion. You’ll be protected there.”

You frowned, glancing down at Logan before meeting her eyes again. “Protected from what? Who are you people?”

Cyclops turned slightly in his seat, his posture rigid. “We’re mutants, like you and Logan. We’re part of the X-Men—a group that helps others like us.”

Your grip on Logan’s arm tightened slightly, a defensive reaction to the unknown. “And how do you know so much about us?” you asked, your voice edged with suspicion. You hadn’t trusted anyone in years, especially not people who seemed to know more than they were letting on.

Storm met your gaze, her expression softening with understanding. “We’ve been monitoring unusual activity involving mutants in the area. Logan’s powers—his healing factor, his claws—aren’t exactly subtle, and neither are yours. We knew you’d eventually need help.”

Your stomach twisted uneasily at the thought of being watched. “So, what—you’ve just been spying on us?”

Cyclops shook his head, his tone steady but firm. “It’s not like that. We monitor for mutant activity because we’ve seen what happens when people like us get caught by the wrong hands. We’re trying to prevent that from happening to you.”

Your eyes narrowed, scepticism flaring. “You mean like the people who attacked us?”

“Exactly,” Storm said softly. “There are people out there—organisations—that hunt mutants. They want to control us, or worse, eliminate us. We’ve seen it happen.”

The words hit harder than you expected, the reality of what she was saying sinking in. You and Logan had been on the run for so long, always keeping a low profile, always expecting the next fight. But somehow, they had still found you.

Rogue, sensing the tension in the air, shifted in her seat. “So… this mansion,” she asked tentatively, “what is it, like a school?”

Storm nodded, her expression softening as she addressed Rogue. “Yes, it’s a school where mutants learn to control their powers. But it’s also a home, a place where you don’t have to hide who you are.”

Rogue’s eyes lit up slightly at the idea. “That sounds… kind of nice,” she murmured, clearly intrigued by the thought of not having to be afraid of her own abilities.

You, on the other hand, remained wary. “And what about Logan?” you pressed, your gaze flicking back to him. “What happens to him?”

Cyclops turned in his seat to face you fully. “Logan will be safe. Professor Xavier—he’s the one who runs the school—can help him. He’s helped a lot of us.”

“Help him how?” you asked, brow furrowing. You had spent years watching Logan battle with the fragments of his memory, struggling to piece together the life he could barely remember. The idea of someone messing with his mind didn’t sit right with you.

“Xavier’s a telepath,” Storm explained, her voice gentle. “He can help Logan recover memories, if that’s what he wants.”

Your stomach twisted again at the thought of someone digging through Logan’s head, dredging up things that might be better left forgotten. “And what if he doesn’t want to remember?” you asked, your voice softer now, almost pleading.

“That’s his choice,” Cyclops said simply. “We’re not forcing him into anything. But at least he’ll have the chance to decide.”

You glanced down at Logan, his usually sharp, focused expression softened in sleep. The thought of him having answers, of finally putting the pieces together, was tempting, but the risks felt too high.

Rogue’s voice broke through your thoughts. “So… there’s more of us? At the mansion?”

Storm smiled, her eyes warm. “Yes. There are students and teachers—others like you who are learning to control their abilities.”

Rogue looked over at you, her expression hopeful, and you offered her a small nod, though your own uncertainty still weighed heavily on you. “Maybe it’s not so bad after all,” she said quietly, more to herself than anyone.

You weren’t so sure. Trust didn’t come easily, especially after so many years of running, hiding, and fighting to survive. But as the jet sped through the sky, you couldn’t help but wonder—maybe, just maybe, this place could offer something different. Something better.

Your hand squeezed Logan’s gently, your thumb brushing over his knuckles as the X-Mansion came into view through the jet’s window.

You sat in Charles Xavier’s office, the weight of the past few hours pressing down on your chest. The polished wood desk, the rows of ancient books, and the stillness of the room seemed surreal, a stark contrast to the chaos you had barely escaped. Your thoughts wandered to Logan, who was being monitored in the basement by Jean Grey. You hated being apart from him after everything that had happened.

The door creaked open, and instinctively, your head shot up. Logan stepped into the room, looking a bit out of place in black sweatpants and an oversized X-Men sweater, half-zipped and worn without a shirt. His eyes immediately scanned the room, searching for you, and when they found you, the tension in his shoulders eased.

You stood up from your chair and crossed the room to meet him halfway. The second you were within reach, Logan pulled you into a firm embrace, his arms wrapping around you tightly as if confirming you were real, safe. His grip was strong, a little desperate, and you could feel the exhaustion radiating from him.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, but thick with concern.

You pressed your face against his chest, the familiar warmth of him grounding you. “I’m fine,” you whispered. “What about you?”

Logan pulled back just enough to look down at you, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from your face. His eyes searched yours, lingering for a moment longer than usual, as if ensuring you were truly unharmed. “I’m alright,” he said softly, but his expression tightened. “Where’s the girl?” he asked, referring to Rogue.

“Rogue? She’s here, safe,” Charles answered calmly from behind his desk.

Logan’s attention snapped to Charles, his brows furrowing. “Really?”

Before you could say anything else, the door opened again. Two people entered—one a tall man with a visor, the other a striking woman with white hair. Their expressions were calm, but serious, a contrast to the light banter you often shared with Logan.

Charles wheeled forward slightly, gesturing to them. “Ah, Logan, I’d like you to meet Ororo Munroe, also known as Storm, and Scott Summers, also called Cyclops.”

You smiled at them in recognition, offering a small, polite hello. They nodded back, their gazes assessing but not unfriendly.

Another figure walked in behind them, a woman with red hair and a composed presence.

“And I believe you’ve already met Dr. Jean Grey,” Charles added with a faint smile.

Logan gave a nod but remained guarded, his eyes following Jean as she moved to stand next to Charles.

“You’re in my school for the gifted,” Charles continued. “For mutants. You’ll be safe here from Magneto.”

Logan crossed his arms over his chest, his scepticism apparent. “What’s a Magneto?” The question came out almost simultaneously from both you and Logan, and you shared a small look.

Charles didn't seem fazed by the interruption. “He’s a very powerful mutant who believes a war is brewing between mutants and the rest of humanity.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Sounds like a real stand-up guy.”

Charles pressed on, his voice measured. “I’ve been following his activities for some time. The man who attacked you is one of his associates—someone known as Sabretooth.”

Logan’s brow shot up at that, and a short, disbelieving laugh escaped him. “Sabretooth?” His tone dripped with sarcasm as he turned toward Storm, pointing at her with a click of his tongue, “Storm.”

He shifted his gaze to Charles, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What do they call you? Wheels?”

A brief silence hung in the air as Logan’s remark settled. You shot him a look, trying to rein in the humour bubbling up, but his teasing was a small relief after the stress of the day.

Charles, unflappable, merely smiled. But Logan wasn’t done. “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. With a quick glance at you, he grabbed your hand and tugged you toward the door. “Come on, let’s get outta here.”

Before you could even react, Scott stepped into Logan’s path, blocking the exit. Logan immediately dropped your hand and squared off with Scott, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him closer.

“Cyclops, right? You wanna get out of my way?” Logan growled, his voice low and dangerous.

“Logan, stop,” you urged, stepping forward and reaching for his arm. “Just hear him out, okay?”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his muscles coiling as if he was ready for a fight, but he stayed still. You could feel the tension between him and Scott, thick in the air.

Before things could escalate, Charles spoke again, his voice calm but firm. “Logan,” he said quietly, his tone cutting through the room. “It’s been almost 15 years, hasn’t it? Living from day to day, moving from place to place, with no memory of who or what you are.”

Logan’s grip on Scott loosened, his expression shifting. “Shut up,” he muttered, his voice wavering ever so slightly.

Charles didn’t stop. “Give me a chance,” he said gently. “I may be able to help you find some answers.”

Logan looked over at you, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “How do you know?” he asked, his voice low but edged with vulnerability.

Instead of answering aloud, Charles’ voice echoed in Logan’s mind. You could see the brief flash of shock on his face as he realised what had just happened.

Logan blinked, the hard edges of his expression softening into a mix of curiosity and disbelief. “What is this place?” he asked, a faint, bemused grin tugging at his lips.

Charles smiled kindly. “Come,” he said, gesturing to both of you. “I’ll show you two around.”

Mars speaks... (again) guess who finally updated!! Any and all feedback is always appreciated🫶

Tags... @annagraceevanss @jane-the-virgin0 @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @paintlavillered @morganas-pendragons @lanabobana @inthetub @kellyxo1 @lillycore @twinky-wink @politicstanner @emiemiemiii @savy-luvs-dilfs @charlyrmv @rockerchick05 @londonbeachgirl @lefroggie @swthxrrry @marifilue @th3mrskory @aesthetic0cherryblossom