#I just got A LOT and it was kinda overwhelming so I took a break

[screaminglygay]

No way back

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

summary: you and natasha joined S.H.I.E.L.D. at the same time, but you're the only one who feels truly at home. while you find your footing, natasha struggles with the unfamiliarity of it all - new people, new rules, and the overwhelming sense that she doesn’t quite belong, but you try your best to make her feel like she´s at home

warnings: slow burn, teasing, kissing, fighting, swearing, light angst, overthinking, Natasha feeling out of place, mentions of a brother's passing, emotional vulnerability

word count: 9.6k

an: thank you for the request!! i had fun writing it, once again sorry it took me forever, the next two parts will be even more angsty!!

part one I part two I part three

The air in the S.H.I.E.L.D. training facility was thick with unspoken words. Conversations lowered to hushed tones whenever she walked past. The few who didn’t bother whispering let their disapproval show in glances, in the way their shoulders stiffened when she entered a room.

Natasha Romanoff was used to isolation. But this? This was different. It wasn’t just suspicion, it was hatred.

The KGB had collapsed, and the Red Room along with it. She was one of the lucky few who got a second chance, but the agents here didn’t see it that way. To them, she wasn’t just a recruit, she was an enemy, a traitor, a remnant of something they wanted erased. They didn’t see a woman trying to rebuild herself, only the ghost of something they despised.

And yet, there was you.

Bright-eyed and eager, just another fresh recruit with no bloodstained history weighing you down. You weren’t a Widow. You weren’t special. But you were kind. And unlike everyone else, you didn’t look at her like she was something vile.

Natasha noticed it from the start, the way your gaze didn’t linger with wariness, the way your voice didn’t lower when she was near. And when she entered the training room that afternoon, she noticed you again.

The training mats were filled with recruits testing their combat skills. You were off to the side, holding pads for another agent, excitement lighting up your features as you explained something with your hands moving animatedly.

Natasha didn’t care for small talk, but something about the way you smiled… so open, so easy, made her pause.

Moments later, she was called up for testing. Evaluating abilities, strengths, weaknesses. Seeing where she fit. She knew how they expected her to perform, like a ruthless machine. So she did. She made quick work of her opponents, every strike precise, efficient. No wasted movement. No hesitation. When she finally stepped off the mat, there was silence. Not admiration, not respect, just discomfort. A reminder that she wasn’t one of them.

And then you spoke.

"That was insane." Your voice cut through the tension, bright and impressed, not a hint of unease. "How the hell did you move like that?"

Natasha blinked. People didn’t usually direct questions at her unless they had to.

You took her silence as an invitation to continue, unfazed. "I mean, I know it’s years of training and all, but-" you gestured vaguely, still catching your breath from your own sparring match. "That was like some ninja stuff ."

She just stared, unsure what to do with the unexpected enthusiasm directed her way. You were still looking at her, waiting, expecting an answer. No hostility, no apprehension.

She exhaled sharply. "Practice."

You grinned. "Yeah? Guess I should be practicing a hell of a lot more, then." You chuckle. You are not a bad at this, no. You are fast and quick, but these moves, that Natasha made… they were something else.

Natasha almost smirked, but before she could respond, your instructor called for a break. The recruits scattered, finding their usual groups.

She didn’t have one. She was used to sitting alone. It didn’t bother her.

But then-

"Hey, uh, you good?" Your voice again. You were standing in front of her now, holding two water bottles, offering one out. "You kinda just wrecked everyone, figured you might need this."

She eyed the bottle warily before taking it. "Thanks."

You sat down beside her without invitation, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Natasha waited for the hesitation, the awkward excuse to leave, but it didn’t come.

After many days of training, it became more harsher and more exhausting, you knew it was S.H.I.E.L.D. testing you, trying to sort just the best one, but it was a lot, but not for her, at least it didn´t look like it.

Natasha sat in the corner of the training room, carefully adjusting the bandages wrapped around her hand. It wasn’t a bad injury, just a scrape from earlier drills, but the fabric had stuck to the wound. She barely reacted to the discomfort, her expression cold as ever.

You noticed, though. "Hey, looks like that’s stuck. You need help?" you asked, crouching beside her.

Natasha didn’t even look up. "No."

You grinned, undeterred. "I wasn’t really asking." Before she could pull away, you were already untying the bandages with quick, precise fingers. The fabric peeled away from her skin, and Natasha finally looked at you, her sharp green eyes studying you, not with anger, but with something closer to surprise. She didn’t say anything. Just watched.

"There," you said, satisfied. "That’s better, right?"

Natasha flexed her fingers slightly, testing. "I suppose."

You took that as a win.

From that moment, you made it your mission to include Natasha, whether she wanted it or not. It wasn’t hard, everyone at S.H.I.E.L.D. liked you. You were warm, helpful, and easy to talk to. Even the most hardened agents softened in your presence. But when it came to Natasha, people kept their distance, speaking in hushed tones when she passed by, leaving her to sit alone during briefings.

You weren’t having it.

Every conversation, every briefing, every group training, if you were there, you made sure Natasha was a part of it. When you laughed at a joke, you turned to see if she was listening. When you partnered up for drills, you dragged her into the mix. If she tried to stay in the background, you pulled her forward. At first, people didn’t know what to do with it. Some just stared. Some whispered. But you? You smiled at Natasha like she was just another teammate, not the ex-KGB assassin everyone was afraid of. And eventually, even if she didn’t say it, you could tell, she appraciated it.

She appraciate you.

You weren’t exactly sure when things started to shift. Maybe it was during that one mission, the first time you and Natasha had to rely on each other for real. A simple recon op that went sideways, forcing you and her to fight back-to-back. It was the first time she saw you as more than just the kind recruit who wouldn’t leave her alone. The first time she saw that you could handle yourself.

By the time you both got back to base, bruised but victorious, something had changed. It wasn’t big, not yet. Just small moments.

The way Natasha sat closer during briefings, the way her gaze lingered when you spoke. Like she was watching, waiting, trying to figure you out.

So you decided to push things a little further, trying to make her feel more… comfortable and safe. Make her feel more like she belongs here.

"Come with me," you said one evening, right after dinner.

Natasha raised a brow. "Where?"

"The shooting range." You said simply.

She studied you for a long moment. "At this hour? There won’t be anyone else."

"Nope," you grinned. "Just us. I wanted to see the real things you can do with a gun. And I want you to teach me."

Natasha folded her arms, the corner of her lips twitching. "You don’t think it’s- "

"Scary?" you interrupted. "No. Badass? Yup."

She blinked, surprised, before shaking her head with something dangerously close to amusement. "You’re ridiculous."

"And you’re avoiding the question." You smiled at her, knowing she will say yes, but won´t go down without looking like a scary person.

Which is funny, because not even after bunch of stories you heard, not a single time did you think she was scary. Interesting and strong, definetly, but never scary.

Natasha sighed, but there was no real resistance. She stood up, rolling her shoulders. "Fine. But don’t embarrass yourself."

You grinned. "No promises."

The range was quiet at night, the fluorescent lights casting a cool glow over the empty stalls. You handed Natasha a pistol, watching as she inspected it with the kind of precision that could only come from years of training.

"So, what do you wanna learn?" she asked, slipping into that calm, focused state that made her so lethal in the field.

You thought about it for a second. "Everything."

Natasha let out a short laugh, a real one. "That’s ambitious."

"You´re good with guns, so…"

Her expression faltered, just for a second. She wasn’t used to compliments. Not the genuine kind. But she recovered quickly, loading the gun and placing it in your hands.

"Alright then," she murmured, stepping behind you. "Let’s start with your grip."

Her hands covered yours, adjusting your fingers, pressing against your back to fix your stance. Her touch was careful but firm, her voice smooth as she explained each movement. You weren’t sure if it was the warmth of her body so close or the sheer focus in her tone, but your pulse quickened.

And when you fired the first shot, dead center on the target, you swore you heard a quiet hum of approval.

"Not bad," Natasha admitted.

You smirked. "Told you I wouldn’t embarrass myself. But why is the grip so important? It´s just the shot, no?"

She rolled her eyes, but this time, she didn’t pull away so fast. "Is your gun loaded?"

"No. I had only one bullet in-" before you could finish that sentence, Natasha not so harshly bumped into your wrist and the gun you were holding fell easily down. "Oh… I see now." You turned your head so you can look at her, you smiled a bit, even though you can feel your heart in your throat.

After that bonding the smiles started. They weren’t much at first - hesitant, uncertain - but they were there. Agents who once ignored her were now nodding in acknowledgment. Some even started greeting her by name. It wasn’t lost on Natasha that this shift had everything to do with you.

You had always been easy to like, weaving yourself effortlessly into the cracks of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s cold walls. You helped agents with their reports, sparred with them without making it a competition, and always - always - made sure Natasha was included.

At first, people didn’t know how to react. They weren’t sure if you were just being polite or if you really meant it. But then, in the middle of a late-night training session, you made sure to give Natasha the credit, she didn´t think was even there.

"Damn, how did you pull that off?" one of the agents asked after you had effortlessly flipped them onto the mat.

You grinned, wiping sweat from your forehead. "Natasha taught me." Silence. A few skeptical glances were exchanged. "…Romanoff?" someone finally muttered.

"Yeah," you said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

For a moment, no one knew what to say. But then, one of the agents turned to Natasha, hesitant but genuinely curious. "Wait… you actualy train others?"

Natasha, who had been leaning against the wall watching the interaction unfold, tilted her head slightly. "When I feel like it."

You rolled your eyes. "Don’t listen to her. She does and she’s actually great at it."

A few agents exchanged glances before someone hesitantly asked, "Can you show us?"

Natasha hesitated. It wasn’t fear. It was just… unfamiliar. People looking at her with interest instead of distrust.

You gave her a little nudge. "C’mon, show off a little." And once again you chuckle, pushing Natasha´s buttons a bit more. Making her open more and show others, that she´s not so cold and scary looking lady.

A beat passed. Then, Natasha sighed and stepped forward. "Fine."

That was the moment everything truly changed. The next few weeks, more agents started joining in. What started as casual observations turned into genuine respect. They saw how skilled she was, how efficient her movements were.

"Oh my god, who taught you that?" someone asked you after another sparring session.

"Natasha did," you answered with a smirk.

And instead of the usual shock or discomfort, the response was different this time. "Damn," one agent muttered. "She’s really good."

"She really is," another admitted.

It was subtle, but Natasha noticed it. The way people started sitting next to her in meetings. The way conversations didn’t immediately die when she entered a room. The way people started listening. For the first time since joining S.H.I.E.L.D., she didn’t feel like an outsider, at least not that much, she felt like this could really be a new beggining for her.

As the days comes by Natasha finally catch you after a training, finally being able to talk to you properly. The gym was empty now, except for the two of you. Sweat clung to your skin, muscles sore from sparring, but neither of you seemed in a hurry to leave today. Natasha had been improving fast, not just physically, but in how she carried herself around the others. She was more comfortable now, less guarded. It was something you had noticed gradually, and honestly, you were proud of her.

That’s why it caught you off guard when she suddenly said, "Thanks."

You blinked. "For what?"

Natasha exhaled, running a hand through her damp hair before leaning against the wall. "For making me look friendly. Helping me fit in."

You shook your head with a small smile. "Zero idea what you’re talking about."

She shot you a dry look. "Oh, shut up."

You chuckled. "That was all you, Nat. They just needed a little push. So did you."

Natasha didn’t argue with that. She let the words settle between you before glancing down at her hands, quiet for a long moment. Then, almost hesitantly, she said, "I don’t blame them, you know."

You frowned at her, letting her speak.

"The others. For being wary of me." She sighed. "I was trained in the Red Room. Worked for the KGB. I know what people like me have done." She hesitated, then her voice dropped slightly. "I know what I’ve done, I know who I am..."

She didn’t say it, but you heard the word she left unsaid.

Monster.

Your chest ached for her.

"We all make mistakes," you said softly. "But you’re here for a reason, aren’t you? You want to change. To do something good. What happened… happened. You can’t change the past, but you can choose who you want to be."

Natasha let out a breath, something shifting in her expression. "You ate a wisdom, hm?" she muttered.

You grinned, "that’s my daily bread."

A small chuckle escaped her lips, quiet but real. It was rare to hear her laugh, but when she did, it was worth it.

After that, things between you and Natasha just… clicked. Wherever she was, you weren’t far behind. And wherever you were, she was right there with you. People started joking about it. "If we need to find Romanoff, just look for (Y/N)."

"I swear, they come as a set," another agent laughed at that.

You started doing things together outside of training. Natasha would drag you to the shooting range at odd hours, testing out different weapons while you tried (and often failed) to match her skill. In return, you convinced her to join you in normal, non-mission-related activities - grabbing coffee, watching movies, playing pool in the rec room.

And then there were the missions. You worked better together than anyone expected. It was seamless, almost instinctive. The way you covered each other’s backs, how one glance was enough to understand what the other was thinking. You weren’t just teammates. You were a duo.

Time goes by, and it was the one-year celebration of you being in S.H.I.E.L.D. The same goes for Natasha. The party was in full swing, the usually serious S.H.I.E.L.D agents actually let loose, drinks in hand, music a little too loud for a facility, and even the higher-ups seem to have abandoned their usual stiff posture. For once, the atmosphere was light, warm. You had a good time, chatting with everyone, laughing at dumb jokes, even letting yourself get a little tipsy.

But even you had limits, your social battery is wearing thin, and the heat of the crowded room got to you. So, without much thought, you slipped out of the main hall and made your way up the stairs, pushing open the door to the training center’s rooftop. The night air was cool against your skin, refreshing after the stuffy warmth of the party. The city lights stretched out in the distance, flickering like a thousand little stars, and you sighed, leaning against the railing.

Peace. At least for a moment.

Because not long after, the door creaked open again. You didn´t have to turn around to know who it was. Natasha stepped forward, her footsteps light, almost silent. She stopped beside you, resting her arms on the railing. You glanced at her, she looked the same as always, calm, composed.

"You’re not drunk," you observed.

She huffed out something like a chuckle. "Of course not."

"Why? Afraid of letting loose?" you teased, nudging her with your elbow.

She didn´t respond immediately, just watched the city below. Then, with a small shrug, she said, "I grew up in Russia. Tolerance to alcohol is kind of in my blood."

You raised an eyebrow. "Then why you’re not even slightly tipsy?"

"Would take a hell of a lot more than what they’re serving in there," she said, nodding towards the party. "It’s a little pathetic, honestly."

You laughed softly, shaking your head.

"Maybe I should teach you... you look like you would need it," she teased.

"Excuse you, I have some tolerance." You glanced at her, "besides I did have my own growing up experience with drinking."

Natasha looked at you, silent, waiting.

"My brother taught me how to drink," you chuckled, "at least tried to." You exhaled, looking down at your hands. “His names is Thomas.” A pause. “Was.”

She didn´t say anything, but she turned fully toward you, giving you her full attention.

"He was in the Navy," you continued. "One of the best. Smart, strong… better than me in everything, really. But he was also the kind of guy who couldn’t sit back if someone needed help." You took a breath. "There was an accident. A mission gone wrong. He saved his teammate… but he didn’t make it."

You swallowed, feeling the familiar ache in your chest. Even after all this time, it didn´t go away. It´s the alcohol that made your shiny personality, to get a little cloudy.

Natasha was still quiet, but she watched you with something soft in her expression. Understanding.

"That’s why I trained," you said finally. "Why I kept pushing myself. My biggest dream was to work for the CIA, actually." You chuckled, shaking your head. "And I almost made it. Passed all the tests, was about to get in, until a guy with one eye came in and basically stole me."

Natasha’s lips quirked. "Fury?"

You nodded, "Fury."

There was a comfortable silence between you after that. Just the sound of the wind, the faint music from the party below, and the distant hum of the city.

Then, quietly, Natasha said, "I’m sorry about your brother."

You glanced at her, giving her a small smile. "Yeah. Me too."

Another beat of silence. Then, in a rare, quiet admission, she added, "He sounds like a nice guy."

You chuckled, tilting your head. "He would’ve liked you."

Natasha raised an eyebrow, "even though I’m Russian?"

You nudged her shoulder. "Even though you’re Russian." It was very easy to talk to you, to joke with you and to let her guards down, she liked this... she liked spending time with you.

You let out a soft chuckle, leaning your elbows on the railing as you gaze out over the cityscape. The cool night air does little to sober you up, but you didn´t mind the warmth in your cheeks. It was a nice buzz, one that made you loosen up, talk more freely.

"He actually was really into women who could take care of themselves," you said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence between you and Natasha. "His captain was a woman. I remember how head over heels he was for her… it was crazy. He was thirteen again, having a crush like a little boy."

You laughed at the memory, shaking your head. "I swear, he would talk about her like she walked on water. All serious and professional when she was around, but then the second she left? He’d go on and on about how badass she was."

Natasha chuckled at your rambling, a rare amusement flickering in her expression. You were slightly tipsy, your words a little looser than usual, but she didn´t mind. There was something… nice about it. About you just talking, sharing pieces of your life like they were meant to be told.

She watched as you grin to yourself, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the railing. There was a soft flush to your cheeks, not just from the alcohol, but from the warmth of the memory. It made her hesitate, just for a moment, before she spoke.

"I get it," Natasha finally said, exhaling softly. "Having someone you admire like that."

You glanced at her, intrigued. "Yeah?" And Natasha just hummed.

After few minutes of just silence once again, her gaze fell back on the city. ��I had a sister.” A pause. "Have a sister."

Your head tilted slightly, your attention sharpening. "You do?"

Natasha nodded again. "Yelena. She’s younger than me. Stubborn as hell, always had something to prove." A small, almost fond smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "We grew up together… well, as much as we could. The Red Room didn’t exactly allow for normal childhoods."

You didn´t push, just let her talk, sensing the weight of her words.

"I haven’t seen her in years," Natasha continued, fingers flexing slightly against the railing. "Not since I left." There’s a flicker of something in her expression - guilt, longing. "I don’t even know where she is. If she’s okay. But I still think about her."

You were quiet for a moment, letting her words settle between you. Then, gently, you asked, "What was she like? Back then?"

Natasha exhaled a short laugh. "A menace."

You grined at that. "Sounds about right for a younger sibling."

"She always had this way of getting under my skin," Natasha admited, shaking her head slightly. "Always trying to prove she could be better, faster, stronger. But she was also… kind. Not in the traditional way, but in the way that mattered. She cared… deeply. Even when she tried to hide it."

You watched Natasha’s expression shift, soft in a way you don’t see often. It was different from her usual guarded demeanor, there was something raw in it. Something real.

"I hope she’s okay," Natasha murmured.

You reached out, hesitating for only a second before gently placing your hand on hers. "If she’s anything like you, I’d bet she is."

Natasha looked at you then, her green eyes flickering at your hand on hers, then back at you. But after a moment, she just huffed out a quiet breath, shaking her head. "You’re really bad at this whole tough S.H.I.E.L.D. agent thing, you know?" she said.

You grined, "yeah, well. Someone’s gotta balance you out."

She didn´t argue. Instead, she just let out another soft chuckle, turning her gaze back toward the city. And for a while, the two of you just stayed like that. Side by side, watching the world move below, the weight of past and present settling comfortably between you.

One second, you were just standing there, glancing at Natasha, enjoying her presence - the next, her lips were on yours. Soft. Warm.

A little hesitant at first, like she wasn’t sure she should be doing this, but then firmer, more certain.

Your breath hitched, heart slamming against your ribs as your brain caught up with what was happening. Natasha Romanoff - Natasha - was kissing you.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, she pulled away, eyes wide, looking more startled than you felt. "Oh, shit," she breathed. "I- I didn’t mean to-"

You blinked at her, still processing, still feeling the ghost of her lips on yours. Butteflies flying everywhere.

"I mean, I did, but I- I don’t know why I-" She took a half-step back, running a hand over her face. "That was- I wasn’t thinking, I just-"

She was spiraling. Natasha Romanoff was spiraling. And honestly? It was kind of adorable.

You grinned, heart still racing, but in the best way. "Nat."

"I shouldn’t have-"

"Natasha."

She shut up, blinking at you.

"Don’t apologize," you said softly, still feeling the warmth of her lips lingering on yours. "That was nice."

She blinked again. "Nice?"

"Very nice." You nodded and as Natasha looked at you fully so she could notice the blush on your cheeks. Knowing very well it wasn´t from the alcohol.

Her brows furrowed, like her brain was still struggling to process the fact that you weren’t mad, weren’t pulling away. "But I just- I didn’t even ask, I just-"

"Yeah, I noticed," you teased, a giddy little laugh bubbling up. "Not that I’m complaining."

Natasha groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "This is not how I wanted to do this."

You tilted your head, biting back a smile. "Oh? So you wanted to kiss me?"

Her lips parted, then closed, then parted again. "I- That’s not- I mean-"

You couldn’t help it. You laughed. A bright, breathless, happy sound.

"I knew it," you teased, poking her arm.

Natasha scowled, but the way her ears were turning pink betrayed her, "you did?"

"Nope, but I wanted you to do it so badly, so… manifestation." You smiled widely at her.

"You’re insufferable," she muttered, though there was no real heat behind it.

"And you just kissed me," you pointed out, grinning.

She groaned again, looking up at the sky like it might save her. You just smiled, reaching for her hand and giving it a small squeeze.

"Hey," you said softly. She looked at you, and there was still a little hesitation there, a little uncertainty.

You squeezed her hand again. "This is nice," you repeated, gentler this time. "You are nice. To me. And that’s all that matters."

Natasha stared at you for a long moment, like she was still trying to find a way out of this. But then, finally, finally, she let out a breath. "You’re really something else," she murmured, shaking her head.

You grinned. "Took you long enough to figure that out."

She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t let go of your hand.

…

From the moment that kiss happened on the rooftop, something between you and Natasha changed.

Not in a way that was overwhelming or scary - no, it was easy, like flipping a switch that was waiting to be turned on. You still trained together, ate lunch at the same table, sat beside each other in meetings, but now there was an added something to it all. A kind of warmth, a softness.

Like how Natasha would nudge your arm when she passed by, or how she’d steal your drink without asking, giving you a smirk when you huffed at her. Or how she’d lean into your side when you sat next to each other, casually draping her arm over the back of your chair, fingers sometimes brushing your shoulder absentmindedly.

Little things. Easy things.

Dating Natasha Romanoff was surprisingly not some impossible, larger-than-life thing. It was waking up and getting coffee together before morning drills, where she’d always roll her eyes but still make sure you had your favorite one.

It was stealing quick, hidden moments in hallways when no one was looking, Natasha rolling her eyes at how obvious you were, only to pull you in for a kiss when she thought no one was around. It was training together, still pushing each other, but now with teasing smirks and stolen kisses. It was, you had to admit, kind of perfect.

Natasha was perfect. And everyone was noticing.

Once word got out, because of course it got out, that you, arguably the kindest person in S.H.I.E.L.D., chose Natasha, something shifted in how people treated her.

Not in a bad way, though.

Before, people had been friendly enough, mostly because you kept bringing Natasha into group activities and conversations, but there had always been a kind of caution. A distance. They still saw her as Black Widow, the woman who had red in her ledger, who had a history drenched in violence.

But now?

Now, people looked at her differently.

If you, the person who always went out of their way to help others, who saw the best in everyone, liked Natasha, then maybe she wasn’t someone to be feared. Maybe she deserved a second chance. And Natasha? Oh, she noticed.

People started smiling at her more in the hallways.

They started asking for her help with things - small tasks, not only minor training exercises, more little things they never would have approached her for before.

And the flirting?

The flirting was insane.

It was like the moment people saw Natasha through your eyes, they realized she wasn’t just a deadly assassin… she was hot.

You’d never seen her ego this big before. Training days became something else entirely.

"Alright, everyone, partner up." Maria Hill, Fury´s right hand yelled, so everyone can hear her.

Immediately, half the room turned to Natasha. You watched as agents practically scrambled to be the first to get to her, some subtly and not so subtly bumping into each other in their rush. Natasha smirked.

"Oh," she mused, glancing at you from across the room. "Guess I’m popular now."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. "You’re impossible." Not thinking about it as a big deal.

She gave you a smug little smile, tilting her head. "Jealous?" You scoffed, trying not to let her entirely correct assumption show on your face.

She chuckled, then turns to some random rookie, “sorry, but I already have a partner," she said simply, jerking her head toward you.

The rookie looked both disappointed and terrified.

You, however, were fighting back a grin. She is yours and you are hers.

Natasha made her way over, stopping just in front of you. "You don’t mind, do you?"

You huffed, "like you’d let me say no."

She smirked, leaning in just enough for her voice to drop, “exactly."

You swallowed, because god, she knew what she was doing.

"Alright, alright," Maria called, clapping her hands. "Let’s get started."

You were going to kill her.

Or kiss her.

Possibly both.

And Natasha? She knew exactly what she was doing.

After training wrapped up, you and Natasha made your way to the locker room. The adrenaline was still thrumming in your veins, your body buzzing with the remnants of sparring.

Or maybe it was just her. Who knows?

Natasha was grinning, that signature, smug little smirk plastered on her lips as she leaned against the lockers with her arms crossed. "See how much people wanted to spar with me today?" she teased, tilting her head as she looked at you.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Oh, please. It was a little desperate if you ask me."

Natasha gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. "Desperate? They chose me.”

You huffed, turning away to open your locker. "Yeah, well, I think I’m gonna have to start charging them if they want to breathe the same air as my girlfriend." There was a tiny hint of jealousy and of course she noticed it.

Natasha let out a delighted laugh. "Oh? So I’m yours now?"

You turned to her, lifting a brow. "You were always mine."

That shut her up, momentarily.

Then, she grinned, stepping closer. "Oh, is someone turning green?"

You turned away quickly, but Natasha was faster. Before you could even think of hiding, she had you pinned against the lockers, her hands firm on either side of your head as she leaned in.

"I think you are," she murmured, her lips brushing against yours as she spoke.

"I am not," you mumbled, though your resolve was very quickly dissolving.

Natasha chuckled. "Mhm." And then she kissed you. It was soft at first, just a slow, teasing press of her lips against yours. Then, it grew deeper, her hands sliding down to your waist, pulling you closer. You sighed against her mouth, your hands moving to cup her face, fingers tracing the curve of her jaw.

She was being so affectionate. Touching you like she needed to, kissing you like she wanted to pour everything she felt into you. When she pulled back, just enough to look into your eyes, you found yourself whispering, "We’re together… together."

She smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. "We are…" Another kiss to your cheek, "…together." Another to your jaw, "…which is why you should move in with me."

You blinked, your mind short-circuiting. "Wait. What?"

She pulled back slightly, her hands still on your waist. "Move in with me."

You stared at her.

She tilted her head. "What?"

You blinked again. "You just said- wait. Are you serious?"

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Of course I’m serious. We basically spend all our time together anyway."

You hesitated, your heart pounding. "But we-"

"You want to." She grinned, leaning in again, her lips brushing over yours. "I know you do."

You huffed, narrowing your eyes at her. "…I hate how well you know me."

She smirked, "so?"

You sighed, dramatically, "fine."

"Fine? Just fine?" She can´t help, but chuckle again.

You chuckled as well, "fine, I’ll move in."

Natasha grinned, "good," and then she kissed you again.

The only thing left to do was tell Fury. So you did the next day, since the word travels fast in this facility. You weren’t nervous, per se, but still… this was Fury. You stood in front of his desk, back straight, hands clasped behind you. Natasha was waiting outside, mostly because she didn’t want to hear Fury’s inevitable sarcasm firsthand.

Fury looked at you over the rim of his coffee cup, unimpressed. "You want to what?"

"Move in with agent Romanoff, sir."

He blinked, setting his cup down, "you’re already living in headquarters."

"Yes, sir."

"And now you want to live together?"

"…Yes, sir."

He exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temple. "I’m happy for you." He said that with total blank expression, so it was hard to tell if he meant it or not.

You blinked, "wait, really?"

"But," Fury continued, leveling you with a look, "don’t you dare let it affect your work."

You swallowed, “it won’t, sir."

"You and Romanoff are my top agents," he said firmly. "I don’t have time for relationship drama messing with my missions. So don’t you dare."

You straightened, "I understand. Don’t worry, sir."

Fury eyed you for a moment before sighing. "Good. Now get out of my office."

You tried not to smile as you turned on your heel and walked out.

Natasha was waiting in the hallway, arms crossed. "Well?"

You grinned. "He said yes."

"Told you he would" Natasha smirked.

You rolled your eyes, nudging her. "Come on, roomie."

She chuckled, draping an arm over your shoulders as you walked away together. Words can´t describe how happy you felt, in this moment… there is nothing more you wish for, maybe more free time, but you´re not gonna push Fury´s buttons. Not yet at least

Each morning from that moment the first thing you registered was warmth. The second was the scent of Natasha, something sweet and faintly floral, mixed with the crispness of freshly washed sheets. The third was movement. Something was shifting beside you, and before you could even react, a hand brushed over your hair, fingers lightly threading through it.

"Mhm," you grumbled, burying your face deeper into the pillow.

A chuckle, "good morning, sweetheart."

You groaned in response, curling further into the blankets.

"Come on, wake up." Natasha’s voice was far too cheerful for this time of day.

You pried one eye open, glaring at her, or at least, attempting to. It probably looked more like a squint. "It’s six in the morning."

"It is."

"Six, Natasha." Ugh. How you hated mornings, early mornings to be exact.

"I heard you the first time."

You groaned again, flopping onto your back and rubbing your face. "This is cruel. I thought you liked me."

Natasha laughed, stretching her arms above her head, the muscles in her back flexing beneath the soft fabric of her tank top. "I do like you."

You pouted up at her. "Then why are you waking me up at an ungodly hour?"

She grinned, leaning on her elbow beside you. "Because you’re adorable when you’re grumpy."

You narrowed your eyes at her, "I hate you." And you mumble something else.

"No, you don’t," she poked your cheek. "But everyone should see this. Our lovely, happy, kind little sunshine is currently wishing me all the worst just because I woke her up."

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. "That is not true," maybe it was… a little.

"Oh?" Natasha teased, nudging you playfully. "What was it you just mumbled? Something about me rotting in hell?"

You peeked at her through your fingers, "…maybe."

She laughed, and God, it was the best sound in the world. Even though it´s six in the morning, you don´t really mind the reason you´re awake now.

"You’re an agent, baby," she said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Not in the next five minutes," you mumbled, reaching for her hand and intertwining your fingers with hers, "Cuddles?"

Natasha let out a dramatic sigh, "fine, but only for five minutes."

You grinned sleepily, tugging her down into your arms. She didn’t resist, in fact, she melted into you, resting her head against your chest, her fingers idly tracing shapes against your arm.

"This is nice," she murmured.

You hummed, pressing a lazy kiss to the top of her head, "told you."

She chuckled, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. "Alright, I’ll admit it. You might have been right."

"Might have been?" You smirked at her.

She sighed, "alright, fine, you were right."

You grinned triumphantly, hugging her tighter. Natasha chuckled, tilting her head up to look at you. Her green eyes softened, and she reached up to brush her thumb over your cheek.

"I love you," she murmured.

Oh my god.

For a moment, all you could do was stare. Your sleep-addled brain scrambled to catch up, to process that Natasha Romanoff had just said I love you for the first time. The room was still, the only sound the quiet hum of the air conditioning and the soft rustling of the sheets as Natasha shifted slightly beside you. Your heart pounded against your ribs, like it knew the weight of those words before your brain could fully register them. She had said it so softly, so easily, like she wasn’t even afraid of it. Like it wasn’t some impossible, unreachable thing.

Natasha looked at you, her green eyes searching yours, and for the second time ever, she looked nervous. Like she thought maybe she had messed up. Like she thought maybe you wouldn’t say it back. Which was insane, because of course you would.

Of course, you did.

"Say it again," you whispered, barely realizing the words had left your mouth.

Natasha blinked. "What?"

"Say it again." Your voice was a little stronger this time, but still breathless, like you’d just been hit with a wave of something so big it knocked the air from your lungs.

Natasha's lips twitched into the faintest smile. And then quieter, but with no less certainty-

"I love you."

Something in your chest burst. You let out a breathless, almost disbelieving laugh, before grabbing her face and kissing her senseless. Natasha let out a surprised sound but melted into it instantly, her arms winding around your waist as if she had been waiting for this exact moment. When you finally pulled back, just enough to look at her, you were grinning like an absolute fool.

"You-" You shook your head, pressing another quick kiss to her lips, "you love me."

"I do." Natasha’s voice was amused now, a little lighter, a little happier.

"You love me," you repeated, as if testing the words in your mouth.

Natasha chuckled. "Is that really so surprising?"

"Yes! No! I mean-" You laughed again, completely overwhelmed, "I just- God, I love you so much."

Natasha's expression softened, and you swore you saw her eyes shine just a little. "Yeah?" she murmured.

"Yeah," you breathed. "So much."

She smiled, the kind of smile that made your knees weak, even though you were already lying down.

Since Natasha had told you she loved you, everything had been amazing. She had never been an overly affectionate person before, but now? Now she was. She kissed you in the hallways of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.. She pulled you into her lap when you both sat on the couch, arms wrapped around you like she needed to physically anchor herself to you. She always, always held your hand whenever you were walking together.

She made you feel loved. And in return, you loved her hard. You loved her with your touch, with the way you reached for her first thing in the morning, still groggy but always needing her close. You loved her with your words, whispering soft things against her skin late at night, telling her all the reasons she was good, she was worthy. You loved her with your patience, never pushing when she got quiet, never demanding more than she was ready to give.

But still…

Still, something lingered in her.

Although things were better, although she had you and people were being nicer, there was something inside her that just wouldn't settle. A restlessness. Some nights, when you were fast asleep, Natasha would sit at the edge of the bed and just watch you. She would grip the blanket tight in her fists, pressing the fabric to her face just so she could smell you, so she could drown herself in something warm, something real.

She didn’t know why she did it. Or maybe she did.

Maybe it was because she was still trying to believe it.

Trying to believe that this was real. That you were real. That the love you gave her wasn’t something temporary, wasn’t something that would be ripped away the moment she blinked too long. She wanted to believe she belonged here. That this - this bed, this warmth, this person - was home.

But… what was home, really?

The Red Room? Moscow? The cold walls of S.H.I.E.L.D.? The battlefield?

Was she the assassin, the spy, the Black Widow capable of having a home?

Sometimes, she would stare at you, watching the way your lips would part slightly when you slept, the way your brows would furrow if she shifted too much.

And she would wonder… does she love the real me?

The real her. The one with blood-stained hands. The one who had taken lives, who had done horrible things. The one who, despite everything, still questioned whether she was anything more than a killer. Maybe you loved the version of her that you saw. The one who teased you in the mornings, who kissed you breathless in empty hallways, who pulled you into her arms without hesitation.

Maybe you loved that Natasha.

But what about the other one?

What about the Natasha who had once followed orders without question? The Natasha who had ended lives with a steady hand and an empty heart? The Natasha who still, even now, sometimes felt like she was nothing more than a weapon?

Did you love her, too?

Would you still love her if you knew, if you really knew, what she had done?

She didn't know. And she was scared to find out.

So after some time she just thought that faking till you make it sounded like a great idea. It started small. The lingering glances. The playful smirks. The way Natasha would lean in just a little too close when someone was talking to her, her eyes sharp and inviting in a way that made people stumble over their words.

At first, you brushed it off.

You knew Natasha. You knew she wasn’t the type to cheat, not even close. But it was hard to ignore how much she entertained it. The winks she threw back. The way she’d chuckle at comments that were a little too flirtatious. The way she let people’s hands linger on her arm or shoulder when they spoke.

You told yourself it didn’t mean anything. That it was just her way of fitting in, showing people she wasn’t the cold, untouchable Black Widow they once thought she was.

And you got it. You did. For so long, she had felt unwanted, feared, alone.

And now, for the first time, people were seeing her differently. They were choosing her. Not because she was a weapon or a threat, but because they liked her.

And it made her feel… valued.

So you let it go.

Until you couldn’t.

It was one night in your shared room, Natasha sitting at the small desk while cleaning one of her knives, humming softly to herself. You sat on the bed, playing with the hem of your shirt, thoughts swirling too fast in your mind.

"Nat?"

She hummed in response but didn’t look up.

You took a breath. "I love you."

That made her pause. Her hands stilled, and she turned her head to look at you, brows furrowing slightly. "I know," she said softly with a small smile.

But you weren’t really saying it to her. You were saying it to yourself. Like some kind of reassurance. A desperate attempt to convince yourself that everything was okay. That she loved you… that she wanted you.

That this didn’t mean anything. Because it didn’t, right? But still, something gnawed at you. Something bitter and heavy, curling in your stomach, whispering thoughts you didn’t want to listen to.

Am I enough?

Maybe the others were more fun. Maybe they weren’t as serious. Maybe they made her laugh more.Maybe they didn’t come with the weight of whispered confessions in the dark, the burden of knowing all her scars, inside and out. Maybe it was easier with them.

Maybe-

"Hey," Natasha’s voice pulled you back, soft but firm. She was kneeling in front of you now, her hands gently resting on your thighs, brows drawn together in concern, "what’s wrong?”

You swallowed, shaking your head, "nothing."

She didn’t believe you. Of course, she didn’t. She tilted her head slightly, studying you the way she did when analyzing an opponent in a fight, like she was picking apart every little movement, every hesitation, every weakness. "Talk to me," she said quietly.

And you wanted to. You really wanted to.

But how could you?

How could you tell her that while she was struggling with believing she belonged, you were struggling with believing you were enough? You sighed, rubbing your palms over your face. "It’s nothing serious. I’ve just been overthinking a lot."

Natasha didn’t move from her spot in front of you, still kneeling, her hands now tracing slow circles over your thighs. "Overthinking what?"

You hesitated. You weren’t lying, not really. But you weren’t saying everything either. Because if you did, if you voiced all the thoughts racing through your mind it might make them real.

So instead, you forced a small smile, shaking your head. "Just… if what I’m doing now is enough."

Natasha’s brows furrowed. "Enough?"

You exhaled, "like… as an agent, as a person, in-" Your voice wavered. "In us." It slipped out.

Her grip on you tightened slightly. "Of course, you’re enough." And the way she said it, so fiercely, so certainly, made your chest ache. She shifted, lifting herself up to sit beside you on the bed, her hand finding yours. "What’s making you feel this way?"

You shrugged, staring down at your intertwined fingers. "I don’t know. I think it’s just… everything."

Natasha was quiet for a moment, and you could almost see the gears turning in her head, the way her mind dissected every little piece of information you gave her. Finally, she sighed, leaning in and pressing her lips softly to your temple. "I love you," she murmured against your skin.

It sent a warmth through your chest, but it didn’t erase the lingering thoughts completely.

And maybe Natasha knew that.

Maybe that’s why, as she pulled back, she searched your face so intently, as if trying to see past whatever walls you were keeping up.

But then something shifted in her own expression. Something almost unreadable. She glanced away, exhaling slowly.

And that’s when you realized-

She was thinking, too.

Overthinking.

You squeezed her hand. "Nat?"

She didn’t answer right away, staring at a spot on the floor like it had the answers to something she didn’t even know how to ask. "I just…" she started, but then shook her head, letting out a quiet laugh that lacked any humor.

"Now you’re overthinking," you pointed out gently.

Natasha exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck. "Yeah, well… you’re not the only one who does it."

Your brows knit together. "What are you overthinking?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line. And for the first time in a while, Natasha looked uncertain. She was always so sure, so sharp, so steady. But now, there was something hesitant in the way she held herself. Like she wasn’t sure if she was standing on solid ground anymore.

You turned to face her fully, giving her the same patience she had given you. "Talk to me."

She scoffed softly, "that’s my line."

You smiled, nudging her lightly, "it can be mine, too."

Natasha sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I just…” She swallowed, "I´m not sure if I fit in."

Your breath hitched. "What?"

She ran a hand through her hair, her voice quieter now. “I mean, what if people like the fun me, not the weird killer one, but the one that´s…” she gestured vaguely, "normal."

Your chest tightened. "Nat-" You stared at her, heart aching. Because you understood. You understood the weight she carried, the doubt that gnawed at her, the fear of being seen as something she wasn’t sure she could escape. "People like you for who you are, right now. They enjoy your presence, I enjoy your presence. All the time."

To you, there was no version of Natasha to love. There was just her. And maybe… maybe you both needed to figure that out together. So after your talk you just spend cuddling tighter than usual, not talking at all, just enjoying your time together.

Over the days, Natasha had been even more open to others, for some reason, which didn´t help you with the "overthinking" part. It wasn’t just the occasional banter anymore, it was something more. The teasing smirks, the way she leaned in just a little too close when speaking, the way her fingers ghosted over arms, her laugh coming a little softer, a little sweeter.

You wanted to understand this, but the only think you could do was to stend back and watch. She joked with Maria Hill in the training center, standing a little too close, her fingers lingering on Maria’s wrist just a beat longer than necessary as they laughed about something. You weren’t even sure what had been said, but it didn’t really matter. It was the pattern that was beginning to form. It wasn’t just Maria. Natasha was always surrounded by someone now, their attention drawn to her like moths to a flame. And she let them. Agents who barely looked at her months ago now jumped at the chance to train with her, to sit with her in the cafeteria, to find excuses to be near her.

And Natasha? She basked in it.

You didn´t said anything… but days turned to weeks, and it never stopped. If anything it got worse.

It was after training when you finally said something. The adrenaline still thrummed in your veins from sparring, your muscles sore in the best way, but all of it was overshadowed by the tight knot in your chest.

Natasha was drinking from her water bottle, wiping sweat from her forehead when you finally broke the silence.

"The flirting is too much."

She froze mid-motion, brow raising slightly as she looked at you, "wha- baby, you know I would never"

"I know," you sighed, running a hand through your hair. "I know you wouldn’t do anything, but… I just don’t like them thinking they have a chance, you know?"

For a second, something flickered in Natasha’s expression, something uncertain, but then it was gone, replaced with that easy, confident smirk that had charmed so many people lately.

"You’re the only girl in my sight," she murmured, stepping closer, her voice dropping into something lower, something smoother. Your lips pressed into a thin line. She was doing it again. The charming words, the flirtation, the teasing little game she played when things got too close, too real. And then her fingers traced down your arm, light, deliberate, the heat of her touch sending shivers up your spine.

"You don’t need to worry," she whispered, pressing a kiss just below your ear. "I only want you."

You wanted to stay firm. You wanted to keep pushing, to tell her that wasn’t the point. But then her hands were on you, guiding, coaxing, pulling you into her orbit like she always did. Natasha had always been a master of control, of knowing exactly what to say, what to do, to pull someone under. And she knew exactly how to make you forget.

Natasha led you through the hallways of the compound, her fingers interlaced with yours, her touch grounding, magnetic. You weren’t fighting it anymore. Maybe you should have. Maybe you should have pressed harder, but right now, in this moment, you just wanted her.

"Our room," she murmured, glancing at you from the corner of her eye, a small smirk playing at her lips, "we can shower together." Her voice was low, inviting, and there was no point in pretending you didn’t want that too.

By the time you reached her room, Natasha was already peeling off her shirt, throwing it onto the chair in the corner without care. She turned back to you, stepping close, her fingers immediately finding your waist, tracing over your skin like she needed to remind herself you were real.

She kissed you - slow, deliberate, her lips moving over yours like she had all the time in the world. And then she whispered against your lips, "You’re mine." Her hands slid up, her palms warm against your skin.

"I’m yours," she murmured, pressing another kiss just beneath your jaw. "You’re amazing." The words kept coming, soft and steady, an anchor against the storm of thoughts that had been brewing in your mind for weeks. "You’re everything," she breathed.

Your fingers curled against her back, holding onto her, feeling the way her muscles tensed and relaxed beneath your touch. You wanted to believe her. You wanted to hold onto these words and let them fill the cracks that had started to form inside you.

Natasha rested her forehead against yours, her hands still tracing slow, soothing patterns against your sides. "No overthinking. Not right now," she whispered. "Just me and you."

She kissed you again, and for a little while, you let yourself believe her.

The steam curled around both of you, thick and warm, as the water cascaded down, soaking into your skin. Natasha’s hands never left you, not for a second. They traced along your arms, your waist, the curve of your back, as if she was mapping you out, committing you to memory, ensuring you were still here, still hers.

The shower wasn’t just a shower… it was something else entirely. A quiet space where the world didn’t exist, where doubts couldn’t reach, where words weren’t needed because her touch spoke louder than anything she could say.

Her forehead pressed against yours, water dripping between you, and she whispered it again, "I love you". Over and over again. It was reverent, almost fragile, like she was convincing herself just as much as she was convincing you.

Your hands found her, fingers threading through damp strands of red as she kissed you, deep and slow, like she was breathing you in. Every touch, every movement, felt like a plea - don’t doubt me, don’t doubt this, don’t leave.

She held you like you were something precious. Like you were something she wasn’t sure she deserved but was too afraid to let go of. Her lips brushed over your shoulder, her breath warm against your skin as she murmured, "you´re everything to me."

The weight of those words settled deep in your chest. She didn’t say it often, definetly not like this. Not stripped down to its rawest form, with no teasing, no distractions. Just her, open and vulnerable, asking for something she didn’t quite know how to name. So you gave it to her.

Your fingers trailed along her spine, tracing invisible lines over old scars, new ones, the history of everything she had endured and survived. "I love you too, so much," you whispered, barely audible over the steady rush of water.

Natasha exhaled, a shaky breath against your skin, and then she held you tighter, as if grounding herself in your warmth. She kissed you again, not rushed, not desperate. Just deep. Meaningful. Like she was pouring everything into it, everything she didn’t know how to say.

taglist: @starrycherie, @esposadejoyhuerta

[tellafairy]

thoughts on shifting + manifesting with ease. (as someone who's shifted many times, alongside manifesting)

coming back to this side of tumblr after spending years away from it has made me realized how many of you are truly the problem, it might sound kinda harsh but really. so many of you ask the same questions over and over again.. "but HOW do i do it?" "how do i shift" "how do i manifest" JUST DO IT. stop looking for signs, stop looking for methods or "cheat codes". just do it man.

your mind is so powerful and it actually kinda irritates me how many of you doubt it, just because it "seems to easy". you don't understand how you've been manipulated by society to not see your power. how have you been on loa social media, shifting social media, for soooo long — yet still don't see it?? let me tell you..

the moment i got off social media, the moment i took time to erase everything in my head and stop overthinking everything, was the moment everything came to me. i already had it, i just needed to stop telling myself i didn't.

it took me barely any time to get used to convincing myself i had everything i wanted, i shifted to my desired realities, and everything worked out in my favour. AFFIRMING IS ALL YOU NEED. I AM YELLING AT YOU. JUST AFFIRM.

really, please, affirm. the routine is so simple.

1. any bad thought is instantly turned positive.

ex: "i really want her waist"

to

"am i stupid ... i have her waist.. tbh mine even looks a little better.. am i crazy?? like actually? this must be a glitch or something cause my waist is practically identical to hers.. i literally love my waist"

exaggerate, say what you need to say to erase the negativity.

2. it's yours, so act like it..

ex: talk about ur DR normally. it's your reality, not a fantasy land you made up in a dream. ITS REAL. it's a reality. for example, i'd watch videos of my s/o in this reality, and speak about our lives in my dr. "i can't wait to see __ tonight... god i love __, it's so nice hanging out with them everyday.. wow they look so pretty in this video — i'm so lucky their mine". it's natural, they're yours aren't they? exactly, so act like it.. this is used the exact same way when manifesting..

you see someone with something you want? thinking of something you wanna do? something you wanna be? ... it's urs... so can you act like it?? like whyre u feeling sad someone else got a job promotion 😹😹 you literally got a better one ...

3. that's literally it

you don't need a fancy method (although it can give u some peace of mind.. let's be real, a lot of methods set y'all back and make you overwhelmed, blocking ur beliefs and making everything seem harder). you literally just need to live. tell yourself it's done, over and over again. nothing matters. it's done, it's yours, you have it, you're happy and fulfilled. other peoples sucess should really mean nothing to you negatively. it shouldn't make you stressed, shouldn't make you feel behind.. why would it when you have everything, you can do everything, go anywhere, and you can be anything.

it'll seem like manifesting blogs and shifting blogs just repeat the same things.. which is true, they do, because i'm telling you there's nothing more to it than what you've already read. it is that easy. all it takes is your mind. decide, and tell yourself.

as i said before, it took me barely anytime to switch my mindset once i actually started focusing on myself, my journey and not every body else's results. repeating stuff to yourself WORKS. repeating is literally ALL i did. choose what i want, told myself it's mine in any way i could describe it. and there, it's mine. ive shifted to many different realities, along side gaining a better life in this one after years of convincing myself there was nothing for me. if i can break out of the cycle, trust me you can too. i cannot describe how desperate i was at the beginning, how long i took in false info and wasted time on methods all while doubting every single thing.

so why don't you believe it? you'll sit there and tell yourself over and over again that you're ugly, or broke, or friendless... but you won't tell urself that you've shifted? that you have your dream body...? girl okay i guess....

once you realize nothing besides your mind truly matters, is when you'll be free with yourself. circumstances don't matter, past feelings don't matter, doubts don't matter, your mind is all you need.

yes this is just loa explained longer, that's the point of the post because some of u still can't get it in ur heads

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

Heels ~ Viktor x Reader

Pronouns for reader: She/Her

Relationship type: Platonic, romantic feelings, slight enemies to lovers if you unfocus your eyes a bit

General Idea: Viktor used to hate the sound of those damn boots of hers, but now he's grown to find an odd sense of comfort in the noise. Along with... a series of other feelings.

Content Warnings: Fluff, swearing, Viktor being sassy, s1 Viktor, Takes place between S1E3~E4, Viktor's kinda down bad but in a denial way, Viktor also isn't good at realizing he has feelings for the reader, Jayce needs a 32hr nap

A/N: My Viktor headcanons got a LOT more love than I thought they would... so I decided to write some more Viktor XD

(Nobody's POV, but it's mostly told. through Viktor's thoughts)

~☆~

The lab was pretty much silent. The only sounds heard were the sounds of Viktor tinkering with a Hextech device and the occasional flipping of pages as (Y/N) read some notes that Jayce had written. It was late, definetly past midnight as the two worked.

"(Y/N)," Viktor says, breaking the silence. The girl's head pops up at the sound of her name. "Come here for a second? I need a second pair of hands."

"Be right there." She says, finishing the page she was on. She stands up and walks towards him, the sound of her boots hitting the tile as she walks.

Clack

Click

Clack

Viktor used to hate the sound of her boots. "Those damn boots are so annoying," He had complained to Jayce during the first week of (Y/N) working as a part-time assistant. "Click clack click clack, drives me insane!" He had mocked before sighing.

"Viktor... don't both your boots AND your cane make that noise as well?"Jayce had responded, raising an eyebrow with a teasing smile. This made Viktor at a loss for words.

"Well... It's annoying when she does it!" He had sassed back in response, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

That was 3 years ago. Now, he found a weird sense of comfort in hearing the sound of her boots hit the floor. He couldn't explain why, enjoyment of familiarity maybe?

"What's up?" (Y/N) says, standing behind Viktor. The smell of her perfume was almost overwhelming to him, overloading his senses. Which was weird, seeings as it must've been almost 13 hours since she'd last applied perfume. And that doesn't last long... was he delusional? Or maybe just tired? Whatever. It doesn't matter.

"Yeah, I just need you to hold this in place." Viktor says, not even looking up from what he's doing. He gestures to a little piece of metal he's holding. (Y/N) leans over Viktor and holds the piece in place as requested. The scientist trys his best to ignore the feeling of her closeness and the racing of his heart... holy crap was it warm in here? It must've been. Although it seemed strange to him that it was magically warm in here all of a sudden. This spirals him into a memory, a memory that took place a little less than a week prior to now.

Viktor sat at his desk, for once not to work on Hextech, but to run his hands through his hair and stay deep in thought.

"Viktor?" Jayce asked. "Are you OK? You haven't been as focused as you normally are today. Did something happen?"

"I think... I think there's something genuinely wrong with me." Viktor says. "Like... maybe I'm coming down with something?? I don't know." Viktor stands up, leaning on his cane slightly for support.

"Oh?" Jayce asks, raising an eyebrow. "Could you, uh, possibly elaborate on that?"

"Well, for one everytime Ms.(L/N) comes near me I about have a damn heart attack." Viktor says, his cane clacking softly on the floor as he paces. "Like yesterday, perfect example. She accidently brushed my hand when she was passing me a paper and I actually thought I was dying."

Jayce suppresses a smile, trying not to laugh. Was Viktor really getting THIS worked up... over a little crush? "Oh?" Jayce says, still suppressing a smile. "Is that it?"

"Whenever she's near me, I swear to the gods that I become hyperaware of... like... everything." Viktor says. "Like the room feels warmer, her perfume or her shampoo is ALL I can smell, I'm almost convinced I know every single speckle of color in her eyes... I think I might actually be going crazy." Viktor says, stopping his pacing. "I'm positive. I've actually hit the breaking point and am decending into insanity."

Jayce now can't help but laugh. Maybe it was his lack of sleep from working on Hextech for days on end, maybe it was the seriousness in Viktor's voice about his "decent to madness." Jayce's laughter came out as almost wheezes due to how hard he was laughing.

Viktor throws his hands up in exasperatedness. "Jayce!" Viktor scolds. "This ISN'T funny! There's-"

This just makes Jayce laugh more and more. "Yes it is, Viktor." Jayce manages to say through wheezes. He's holding onto the desk for support as he laughs. It gets to the point where passersby become mildly concerned for the scientist's wellbeing. "I assure you you're not decending to madness."

"Then what the hell is going on????" Viktor exclaims, collapsing into his chair.

"Relax you just have a little crush, it's fine." Jayce says, wiping the tears of laughter away as he tries to steady his breathing.

"Viktor?" The sound of his name snaps him out of the memory. "You good? I think I said your name like five times." (Y/N) says with a chuckle. Viktor shakes his head slightly.

"Uh, yeah. I'm fine." Viktor says, continuing what he was doing. He tried to ignore the slight shake in his hands, the side of his own hand pressed against Ms. (L/N)'s own hand. When he's done. He about throws the screwdriver down. "Thank you for your assistance." Viktor says, the weight off his shoulders earning a little sigh of relief.

"Was that all you needed?" (Y/N) asks.

"I'm pretty sure, yeah." Viktor says. (Y/N) hums in response, walking over to her desk. Click, clack, click, clack. Her boots echo in the room. She grabs her coat and walks towards Viktor again.

"I'm gonna head out then." She says. Click, clack, click, clack. The sound of her boots ring in Viktor's head, a haunting sound that he didn't actually mind having on replay in his brain. "You should too soon." She says, her voice kind and soft.

Viktor's stomach feels like it's about to leap out of his body. Even though it was scientifically impossible, he couldn't help but worry about it. "I will soon." He says, the softness in his voice actually shocking him. Normally he'd just lie out his teeth and sleep in the lab, or not sleep at all. However, when he said that he would... he truly meant it. His eyes move away from the project and to (Y/N). "I'm just gonna finish this little bit up."

(Y/N) smiles, it's tired and small, but it's still a smile nonetheless. Seeing her smile along made the corners of his lips feel like they were moving on their own. He suppresses a smile the best he can, but it still shows on his face. "Goodnight, Viktor." She says, her voice still soft. She didn't speak full volume, and that for some reason made Viktor's heart rate skyrocket.

"Goodnight, (Y/N)." He says, the same tone and volume as (Y/N). She turns and walks out of the room. Click, clack, click, clack. He listens to the sound of her shoes until they completely fade out.

"Relax you just have a little crush, it's fine."

Viktor didn't have a crush on (Y/N)... did he?

~☆~

For more fics: my masterlist

Feel free to request fics!!!

~Squeed

[ireneaesthetic]

Pointing out little moments and details of the last yr scene.

wilmon endgame • episode 6

the camera work is so on point - it follows wille around moving frenetically, as to emphasize the hurry and the tension.

simon gets in panic mode for a sec. he was never over wilhelm but definitely thought their relationship was.

at first he looks ... scared - not of wille but of what he feels for him at this point. he's still in love but they got to the finish line, they broke up with no idea of when or if they will talk to each other again, there's no reason for wille to chase after him if not to change something.

it makes his thoughts spiral, but somewhere in his little heart he has a lot of hope too and that's why he steps out of the car to hear what he has to say.

these words really mean everything and i'm glad they're told directly to simon. it's such a sigh of relief for wilhelm to get this off his chest and mean it for real: he's doing something for his own sake finally - to be free, to be happy, to be in control of his own life for once.

he never got to choose anything - somebody else has always done it for him - but he no longer has to be afraid anymore.

simon is just as relieved and the proudest: he proved over and over again to care so deeply. to see wilhelm constantly hurting inevitably hurt him too.

he knew wille was brave - he actually told him once - and he was so right. it takes a lot of courage to do what wille just did.

shut up he's adorable :') playing with his fingers and trying not to break into a smile. he wants to look calm and collected but his heart is jumping out of happiness.

this comes after the are you sure you're over me? - breaking up was all it took for wille to think that simon must not love him anymore: to earn love and for everything to be perfect in order to deserve love is what his family and royal life always taught him - but simon's what the hell do you think? proves him so wrong.

the tears in his eyes i cannot - this is the face of a man who's bursting out of love, he adores simon this much.

they crush into the hug like they've been dying to do it. what a moment it must be for them to close the distance.

in this hug they find what they both were needing the most.

they hold on to each other. emotions are so overwhelming and it's written all over their faces - it feels too good to be real.

it's almost scary to let go now and i love how they tighten the hug at the same time, clinging to make it last longer.

and they're at the same height so simon has to be on his tippy toes ahsjkh.

oh the beauty in simon feeling every emotion to the fullest and letting them all out. he doesn't hold himself back and it is truly heartwarming to watch.

this hug is healing - he's giving joy to be back in wille's arms, proud of wille for putting himself first, relief because the fear of losing him was too much to handle.

the single tear drop and the pure disbelief in his expression. he caresses wille's cheek and keeps looking at him like he's the most precious thing.

doing the triangle method - again. old habits never die huh.

wille letting simon choose to whether kiss him or not.

it's our simon we're talking about, the one that risked it all and initiated their very first kiss bc he liked wille that much already, so could he possibly not do that now? he obviously does and can't help but smile into it.

they can't get enough of kissing and wandering hands. it's like their only way to make this become more and more real.

fair to say they're kinda obsessed with each other's hair!

love love looove the transition from them kissing in secret in the dark of the night to them kissing freely out in the open in the daylight - the most beautiful metaphor.

completely different plot points but the feelings involved are so familiar - reunion kisses are very much their brand: there's longing, passion, need to savor the moment to make it last.

and this time it can really last forever.

something super special about simon not replying with i love you too but sticking to i love you - it is not just reciprocal.

this shot haunts me. it's from the documentary and idk why it wasn't used in the final cut, i'll make space for it here anyway!

wille can't stop smiling and simon never takes his eyes off of him - he's emotionally overwhelmed by the way he bites his lip and his chin trembles. my heart.

no ray of sunshine between them could ever distract me from wilhelm diving into this kiss with his eyes open.

simon is definitely being pulled closer by the waist here and i take it very personally.

i was already full on sobbing when this part of the scene came up - sara and felice calling them out bc they are too caught up in their own bubble.

they still take one more moment to just look at each other so fondly tho and try to get a grip on what has just happened.

i get you wille! simon is the loml too.

this shot is sooo!!! hillerska in the rear view mirror as they drive away - time for the last bittersweet goodbye.

all of them are wearing white, they're driving off in a white car, most carefree than ever - sounds a lot like freedom and fresh start.

some things never change - they're the most comfortable and happy when they can be just them, just like this.

god knows where they're headed but it doesn't really matter as long as they're together.

wilmon endgame babyyyy.

they've been through so much but come so far eventually. it's the end of young royals but the beginning of a new chapter in wilmon story - the best one - and it's only theirs to write from now on.

it's still going to be tough, storms are still about to come their way and ruin plans, life is a mess but at least they have each other. they're holding hands in a we are in this together kind of promise and it's so reassuring to know.

it was a hell of a ride but love and hope wins - and there's truly no one who deserves it more than them.

time to appreciate the comparison between wille the perfect crown prince and messy hair with undone shirt wille!

he looks at the audience for the very last time with the most content smile and we can tell he really is - ready. to leave us behind, to face the future, to experience life in the way we've seen him fight for before.

wilmon breaking the fourth wall together at the end would've been insane, but it feels so right to focus on wille actually: it's always been just him, it all started with our eyes on him and his journey, the choice to abdicate is for his own sake and not for simon - he said it himself - so for him to be alone in the closing shot makes the most sense to me.

wilhelm finally getting his own little family of people who loves and values him, simon sharing life with the person who's made him feel seen and cared for - this is honestly the best finale we could’ve ever asked for.

[misserabella]

perfect sin

innocent sub virgin! abby x dom fem! reader

synopsis;; Abby was a good girl. Was…

cw;; use of y/n (sorry but it was needed), sub and complete inexperienced yet not innocent abby, references to the bible (algo unholy use of abby’s one) and church, mocking of god, the bible and sins (PLEASE AGAIN, DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY), cursing, alcohol drug use, dry humping, loss of virginity, dirty talk, nipple play, teasing, smut, scissoring, dumbification, masturbation (both receiving), oral sex (a receiving), worshipping kink & god kink (kinda???), overstimulation, dacryphilia (kinda?), finger fucking, chocking, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms… MINORS DNI!!!

Abby Anderson was a good girl. A straight A’s student, not a big fan of parties, hated alcohol, didn’t do drugs kind of good girl. And… she was really religious. She had always been. She accompanied her father to church every Sunday, went to a religious school and based her reading on her worn bible before going to bed every night. At her eighteen years of life, the most ‘unholy’ thing she had ever done was lie, and she made sure to swear that she’d never do it again.

But that oath didn’t age well, since she was, once again, lying about the fact that she’ll be staying over one of her church friends’ when she was planted in front of the biggest party she had ever seen —the only one she had ever seen, to be honest—.

Although Abby was a good girl, her best friend, Ellie Williams, surely wasn’t. They were complete polar opposites. You just had to stare at them to see that. Whilst Abby seemed like a complete church girl with her button shirt tucked on her caqui pants and her school’s white little sleeveless sweater on top. —She looked so nerdy and cute with those glasses of hers…— Ellie looked like a rockstar, with her smeared eyeliner, short auburn hair, black clothes and silver rings…

Nobody knew how the two of them could be such good friends… But they were. Ellie was a bad influence, always breaking the rules and getting in trouble. And Abby was… the good influence, the pure one of the couple, always in charge of putting some sense into Ellie’s head when her mind convinced her on doing things that seemed like a good idea when in reality were not and getting her out of trouble. They worked.

Ellie loved to hang out with Abby, always trying to make her do something bad and ‘unholy’ but always getting a ‘no’ for an answer. And she thought that it will be that way forever, but surprisingly enough, Abby had acceded to go with her to one of those crazy parties she always attended. So there they were, stepping into the packed house and automatically being hit by the smell of cheap alcohol, weed and hormones.

Abby didn't like it. She couldn’t help scrunching her nose, overwhelmed by the new surroundings. The air was saturated and it was too warm, making her glasses slightly fog.

Ellie laughed at her face, pushing one of her arms over her best friend’s shoulders and dragging her further inside with her. Abby felt as if the devil had took a hold on her and dragged her to Hell.

"Yo Ellie! Got some crystal?" Oh, right. Another thing about Ellie was that she was popular. Really popular. A lot of people waved at her as the two of them passed by. Probably due to her incredible stash and weed. But either ways, she had a lot of friends.

"Look for me later, 'lright? I´ll see what I can do for you then, pretty girls." the girls that had approached her smiled, nodding and giggling as they took off.

"Crystal?" Abby wondered, to what Ellie rolled her green eyes.

"Meth, Bibi. Meth." the blonde scrunched her face. She was well aware that Ellie was a dealer, she wasn't that stupid, she just didn't know much about it. And honestly, she'd like to keep it that way. Of course she was concerned for her best friend's well being, but Ellie had promised him that she wasn't getting into anything hard, weed was her way to go. "That shit is selling like Tommy’s beers." she shook her head, pulling her down the hallway and towards the salon, which connected to an open garden with pool and where the dancing floor took place.

"Ellie!!!" both of them turned to a brunette smiley girl with a cigarette on her left hand.

"Dina!" she seemed just as pleased to see the brown eyed as her to see her. "What are you doing here!?" the arm that stood around her shoulder fell when she stepped closer to her to pull her into a tight hug.

"Oh, you know... y/n." she rolled her eyes, still a happy smile making her cheeks swell.

Ellie chuckled. "That little friend of yours is a true menace..." she shook her head. "I like her." that only made Dina laugh.

"Everyone does..." she sighed, taking a hit to her cigarette as her eyes found Abby's. "Let me guess... Perfect hair, ironed clothes, that church girl's face...Is this Bibi?" Ellie smiled as she nodded, surrounding her friend's shoulder with her arm again before pulling her flush to her side.

"In holy spirit." Abby pushed her hand away when her fingers dug on her hair, messing it all up.

"Nice to meet you Dina." she said, offering one of her warm hands, trying to be polite.

"My pleasure." she actually took it, giving her a funny smile. "You seem scared... First party?" she felt his cheeks reddening in embarrassment as she nodded. “Aw, isn’t that cute… Try not to get eaten alive, hm?” Abby’s eyes widened at her words, but she simply laughed, stealing a bottle of whiskey from one of the guys that went heading towards the kitchen to refill the drinks before giving them their back, cigarette in between her lips as she walked away, turning around when she didn’t hear the two pair of friends following her. “Well? Are you guys coming or not?”

They understood then, nodding and following her down another hallway and into a more private room. From the little people inside Abby thought it could be for VIPS. The room was big, with a couple of sofas sitting around a little coffee table, which stood full of cigarettes, alcohol, little plastic bags, weed…

It seemed to be that they had found the stoner room.

“Dina! Dina’s back!!” a sweet and drunk voice filled the room as the door closed behind their backs. Abby’s eyes met a dark haired girl on one of the sofas, cup in hand and a tipsy smile on her face.

Dina chuckled before going towards the drunk girl, who wrapped her arms around her, pulling her so hard down and against her that almost made her fall. “Lily!” she whined when her face was filled of little kisses, what made Ellie laugh.

Abby looked a little bit shocked when the two of them started kissing.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you… Dina is gay. She’s dating Lily too.” Abby seemed amused by her reaction, which quickly faded. Was she surprised? Yeah, she was surely not expecting it. In her church everyone was so… straight. Was she disgusted? Absolutely not. She didn’t see any wrong in any kind of love. It was not ‘conventional’, as people would say, but it was still love and Abby was nobody to tell anyone what to or not to do. Also, she knew her best friend liked girls, and she didn’t love her any less for it.

“Thank god. She wouldn’t stop whining about how much she missed you, almost choked her to sleep for a moment there.” your amused voice chuckled beside her. When Abby’s eyes wondered towards the origin of the sound, she met a really pretty girl. Gorgeous even. Stealing breath away kind of pretty girl. You were dressed on a really tight and short red dress and black high heels. From her position she could see that your lips and eyes were of the same red color of your dress, the first due to a beautiful lipstick and the other probably for the blunt that stood in between your fingers. There was a hazed look on your face, and a soft smile tugging on your lips. Your hair flared a little bit as you turned to face the two best friends by the door. Abby felt like she couldn’t breath. Maybe due to the smoke inside the room… She thought. “Well I’ll be damned… Is that Ellie Williams?” your red eyes squinted a little bit, trying to focus on the auburn haired girl beside her, who shrugged as she stepped further into the room.

“What can I say? I’m famous amongst the ladies.” that made you laugh. And the sound of it was almost angelic. Abby’s heart tightened on her chest, your smile warming her up and making her feel all fuzzy inside. She was completely whipped. “Looking good y/n, been a long time since I last saw you.”

‘y/n’ So that’s who they had been talking about before… y/n, y/n… Even your name was pretty.

“Too long I’d say. Missed your weed. It is the best I’ve ever had.” she pressed a hand to her chest, honored. “And who is pretty girl over there?” Abby felt like fainting when your eyes met her body, lips around the blunt, sucking a new hit that left your throat burning up as the smoke filled your lungs.

“This…” Ellie pulled her by her arm, closer to you and the other two girls, strong enough to have her adjusting her crooked glasses. “Is Abby. Abby Anderson. My girl.” a smile crept on her lips when she recognized that look in your eyes as you scanned her up and down. “And who you are absolutely not getting closer to.”

You rolled your eyes. “Jesus. That fast you claiming a pretty thing like her?” you chuckled, shaking your head just to ignore her and focus on the brunette. “Nice to meet you Abby.” her name rolling on your tongue made her heart fall to the pitch of her stomach, fingers tingling and breath hitching. “I like your sweater.” she coughed, clearing her throat when one of your legs crossed over the other, chest sticking out and your back arched as you accommodated yourself on the sofa. Her eyes darted elsewhere as she awkwardly scratched her neck.

“Thank you.” she stuttered. “I like your…, dress.” that’s the first thing that came to mind and, as she realized what she had just spit out, the stupidest thing too.

You smirked, taking another hit to the blunt. “You do?” you looked down at it. “It’s a little bit uncomfortable though, too tight.” you teased, although she didn’t seemed to get it. Not as Ellie did, scoffing to bring your attention back to her. “You seem uncomfortable too standing over there, why don’t you come take a sit?” you patted the empty place beside you.

“This is Abby’s first party.” she said, eyebrows raising in caution. “Came straight from church studies.” she put extra emphasis to those last two words, which only made you smile harder and Ellie sigh. You were the devil in disguise.

“Oh… A church girl.” you smirked. “That’s why I’ve never seen you around before. I would remember a pretty face like yours.” you winked at her, and her whole body flushed, making you chuckle. Why was this happening to her? She’d never felt like this… Not even with Owen, who had been dating her for a couple of weeks before she told him she couldn’t keep doing it. She didn’t love him. She wasn’t sure she even liked him. She couldn’t even bring herself to kiss him. And now you were making her blush that easily? Making butterflies come up her stomach?

“You. Stop it.” Ellie pointed at you with squinted eyes, making you rise your hands in a peace offering, faking innocence.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Oh, you know what you are doing.” you tilted your head a little bit, smirk returning.

“Yeah I do…” you chucked, just to sigh afterwards. “Fine. I’ll be good.” you gave in. “But still, sit your ass here and give me something good, will you?”

Ellie smiled, quickly sitting down in one of the single sofas beside you. “Yes ma’am.” she teased you as she extracted from one of her front pockets a little plastic bag full of a shiny white powder. “Is this good enough?” she inquired and you only smiled, teasingly answering.

“This will do.” she laughed, watching you take a peek at the drug, shaking it in between your fingers a little bit. “You. Pretty girl.” you called for Abby, who had never stopped staring at you and got startled by your sudden attention. “Lend me your bible, will you?” she quickly pushed one of her hands on her front pocket, pulling out a pocket mini bible from it before walking towards you to hand it to you. Her eyes widened when you pulled her from her arm so she would sit down beside you, fingers lingering on her own as you took her bible from her hand. “Thanks.” you whispered, eyes on her own as you opened it to find just what you were looking for: a picture of Jesus.

You took it out and pushed the bible on top of the tea table before spreading the white powder on top of it, using the photo to spread it in thin and large lines. She was stunned, and Ellie was just too amused to stop you, finding it funny the fact that you were using something ‘holy’ to deal with something that was not.

“Amen.” you muttered before bowing down and pressing your nose to the bible, sniffing the whole line in a go. When you pulled back up and against the sofa, Abby saw the remains of the power on your nose. And even if she knew that she wouldn’t think it, she still found you unbelievably beautiful. “What is it pretty girl? Want to give it a try?” she quickly shook his head.

“No! I think that would be…, a sin.” that only made Ellie, the girls and you laugh. She looked so scared you almost felt bad.

“Come on, you’re not gonna tell me that you’ve never sinned, are you now?” she remained silent, making you frown. “Really?” Ellie chuckled beside you.

“Abby is a fucking saint. Never drank, never kissed… Never fucked.” Abby’s cheeks flushed red as she gave Ellie a death stare.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” your eyes were wide open. Well, as far as they’d go. You were starting to feel all fuzzy and tingly due to the coke and weed in your system. “A fucking virgin… And you are friends with Ellie Williams… Isn’t that funny?” the green eyed seemed hurt, mouth falling open. “With all respect, you are a whore.” her mouth only fell further open, what made you laugh. “You have at least rubbed one out, right?” once again she remained silent, eyes elsewhere and bottom lip in between her teeth. “Right?”

Ellie seemed interested too, as well as Dina and Lily.

“I can’t believe it.” you whispered when she didn’t correct you. Ellie was just as shocked.

“Oh my god…” Dina muttered.

In eighteen years. Not even a little rubbing?

“Jesus…” they all sighed at the same time, and Abby’s cheeks only reddened even more.

“Committing adultery is a sin, alright?” she groaned, too overwhelmed by the attention that was being poured on her. She felt like running away.

“You know what’s a real sin, Abby?” you said, making her stare at you. “Not having an orgasm ever. That’s a fucking sin.” she felt even the tips of her ears redden.

“I’ve—“

“Man, I know you and your father has always been super religious, but you don’t always have to follow some rules that were written centuries ago. If that makes you happy then that’s okay, but aren’t there a lot of things you’ve wanted to do that you couldn’t do due to that goddamn bible?” Ellie inquired, to what Abby nodded.

“I mean ye—“

“Then fuck it!” Dina said, snuggling closer her drunk girlfriend, who nodded in agreement. “Do whatever you want.”

“I can’t…”

“Oh yes you can, and you are gonna do it.” you smiled. “You can always ask for forgiveness, you know? Cry up a little bit at church tomorrow afternoon and say that some evil spirit got a hold on you or some shit like that. You wouldn’t be the first miscarried little sheep around here.” she stiffened when your hand fell on her knee, thumbs rubbing imaginary circles on her skin. She gulped, eyes on your pretty hand before you would lean in and grab her attention once again. “So…, what is it that you wanna do, pretty girl?” she was wicked. Under the spell of your gorgeous smile, reddened eyes and haunting face.

Your smile only grew more when her eyes fell to your red lips…

“Eyes up here, Abby.” you muttered, pointing to your eyes and making the rest of the group chuckle. Ellie sighed, knowing it was probably too late for Abby. You had that power of making people lose themselves into you. And Abby was absolutely lost.

“I… I don’t know…”

“Okay…” you hummed. “Why don’t we start off with something soft, hm?” you offered, and the brunette was the first to catch on, offering you a bottle of tequila that stood on the tea table along with a shot glass.

You poured just the perfect amount into it, grabbing another one for yourself along with limes and salt before leaving the bottle where it belonged.

“Okay. This is a shot of tequila. Of course, you could just give it a go dry, but I like to make it more interesting with this.” You pointed at the lime. She was the one who seemed interested now. “I’ll show you how to have one, then it’s your turn alright?” she nodded and you smiled as you poured a pinch of salt on the back of your palm. That twisting feeling in her stomach returned when your tongue slid through your palm and the the salt, all while keeping your eyes on her own. After that, the alcohol went down your throat as you bent your head slightly backwards, pouring after that the lime as your teeth sank in it. Your face scrunched up due to the sourness of it all, but still the people around you cheered for you as you slammed the shot glass on the coffee table in front of you, smiling. “Did you get it?” you inquired the blonde, whose eyes seemed eager on you, probably due to the rush of adrenaline that went through her veins at the thought of trying something new and exciting. “Then go ahead pretty girl.” you poured salt once again on the back of your palm, handing it to her with a smirk. Her cheeks grew red at your actions, but despite that, she took a deep breath and dove in. All of you seemed surprised by her decisiveness. Your breath hitched when you felt her warm tongue on your skin, licking it clean of the salt before pulling away, and without giving it much thought —since she knew that if she did she’d repent— poured the liquor in her mouth, almost gagging as the tequila hit her tongue, what made her nose scrunch. The turn on her stomach and the burning of her throat was a new feeling, maybe not the best, but it was something new. And that excited her. She knew that drinking was not something forbidden, she had just been too scared of her dad’s disappointment if she ever tried it, so she never did. “So?” everyone stared at her, expecting to know her thought about her first time dealing with alcohol.

Abby coughed, squinting a little bit as her hoarse voice broke the silence. “It burns.”

All of you bursted out in laughter, she could have said anything, and yet she went with the understatement of the century.

“Yeah, it usually does.” Ellie sighed, shaking her head. “That’s the fun of it. Trying to see how much of it you can handle before passing out.” Abby seemed confused as she frowned.

“That doesn’t sound very amusing.”

“Oh, that’s because you aren’t mixing it with anything else...” you smiled. “Actually, you could use a little bit of weed.” Ellie was quick to pull a little bag from her pockets with a bright smile. Once on your fingers and opened, you groaned at the strong and sour smell. “Fuck, I’d eat you out right now if there weren’t so many people here.” Ellie chuckled at your words, and Abby only blushed, taken back by your language. There was a burn in her stomach that pleaded her to make you let out more of those little sounds out of your mouth. And maybe she should be scared, of feeling all of this for a girl. But somehow she wasn’t. She just needed to learn more. Know more. Feel more.

“I don’t think that…” she started, but you only looked at her and she was a goner, the words dying in her throat. Her best friend seemed pretty entertained by the situation. Abby the saint Anderson was finally giving in to having some fun, and it was all because of you. She didn’t know if she should be happy about it or be absolutely jealous.

On the other hand, Abby was absolutely haunted, haunted by your fingers dealing with the drug, rolling up the blunt and your tongue sneaking in between your lips to lick it seal. She felt that tingling on her pussy, although she tried to soothe it off by going over the Genesis.

“Done.“ you smiled, and Dina handed you her lighter so you could light the blunt up.

Abby looked closely as your lips wrapped around the joint and how your cheeks hollowed as you took a hit. You let out a pleased sigh when the smoke filled your lungs. “Fuck.” you loved it. The high, the dizziness, the numbing of your limbs. “Williams, let me marry you. I’ll make a good wife, I promise.” she let out a laughter as she reached out for the blunt, which you obviously handed her.

“Sorry sweetheart, you know I love you, but you’d be too much for me to handle.” you fakely pouted when the blunt was back on your hands.

“Well, it wouldn’t have worked anyways.” you shrugged, taking another hit with a playful smile. “You are not my type...” Abby’s breath hitched when your eyes found hers. “What do you say pretty girl? Are you in?” you offered her the blunt, and after a little hesitation, her fingers stole it from yours. You noticed that she had beautiful hands, soft, with large and thick fingers that would surely look better pushing inside your…

“How should I…?” she seemed scared of it, holding it away from her as if it were a deadly weapon. And maybe it was.

“Right. A saint. Probably haven’t even smoked a cigarette.” you said, scooting closed to her ‘till your thigh was flushed against hers, fingers around her wrist to guide the joint to her lips. She felt her heart skip a beat when her eyes fell to your chest, which stood dangerously close to her own. “Okay. So you put it on your lips and then you suck, but don’t just leave the smoke in your mouth, it has to fill your lungs, so as you suck you need to inhale as deep as you can. If your throat burns, then that means you are doing it okay.” she was following your words and doing as you told her. “But don’t do it too hard or you’ll…” but maybe she was going too fast, since she started to choke on the smoke. “Choke.” you were quick to give her back pats.

“Are you okay?” Lily inquired her, handing her a cup of alcohol. Maybe it wasn’t the best option to go for, since alcohol and weed actually were a strong combination for a beginner, but it was the only thing around.

“Aw she’s fine…” Dina laughed. “You aren’t a beginner if you don’t choke on your first hit.”

“On god.” Ellie teasingly said, sending a kiss to the sky.

She shivered when your fingers dug in her hair, comforting her as her coughing ceased. “Are you okay, pretty girl?” she nodded, too lost on the feeling of your touch. “Wanna try again?” she looked at you as if you were crazy, what made you let out a laughter. “Don’t look at me like that, here, let me help you.” you urged her, taking the blunt from her hand and raising it to your lips to take a deep hit. Her breath hitched when the hand that stood in her hair pushed her near your face. Her eyes widened and her pulse spiked up when your breath hit her own, the weed and alcohol on it making her feel dizzy. Or maybe the fact that your lips were mere inches away from hers was. She really couldn’t know.

Neither of you noticed the way your friends were staring at the two of you.

The hand that held the joint went to her cheek, thumb pressing against her bottom lip as you pulled from it. “Open.” she was quick to do what you’ve asked her to. “Now breathe in for me, will you?” she nodded, and as you blew the smoke on her lips, she took it in. The burning was still there, in the back of her throat, but it wasn’t as overwhelming as it had been the first time. You pulled away with a satisfied smile on your lips, seeing her hold her breath as much as she could —like she had seen you do—. “Good girl.” she almost whined at you words, not understanding why they had had such a great impact on her. There was something in the way you’ve said it that made her shake in your hands. “Now, that wasn’t that bad, was it?” she shook her head, fighting the urge to lean on your touch, on the fingers that now massaged her scalp after a third hit from your lips.

“Woah, are we… Interrupting something here?” Dina was the first to break the silence, making Lily and Ellie laugh.

“The room suddenly feels too hot…” the auburn haired said, fanning her face and making your eyes practically send her daggers. “Just saying…” she rose her hands in surrender.

Abby was feeling her limbs tingle as the clock ticked, eyelids heavy and and mind fuzzy. You seemed to notice. “You okay, pretty girl?” she looked at you through half-lidded eyes, a smile tugging on her lips.

“Feels amazing.” she muttered, and all of you laughed at her reaction.

“Ellie, I think we’ve just created a monster.” you mocked her, but she just seemed happy to see her best friend so relaxed, and having fun.

She was about to answer you, but suddenly the girls that had asked her about having some crystal before peeked through the closed door. She understood what they had come looking for just by taking a look at them. She tapped the arms of the sofa before standing up, grabbing the attention of the group.

“Ladies, I need to go and make some business.” she announced with a smirk. “Do you mind if I leave Abby with you for a little bit?”

You opened your mouth to answer but before you could Lily and Dina were standing up.

“Yeah, we’re gonna— Lily needs to— Bathroom.” she simply said before she could grab the curly haired’s hand, her lips on her neck as they left the room, Ellie right behind.

It was then when you realized that only you and Abby were left behind. Alone. She seemed to realize too, since her body seemed to stiffen up

“Well, I guess we’re alone now, pretty girl.” you said, taking another hit of the blunt. You were probably overdoing it already, but you knew you could handle it. She nodded, trying not to show the way her hands were shaking. It was a really strange combination of feelings really: She was high. She was excited about her first party. She was nervous about being near someone as pretty as you… “What are you thinking about, hm? What’s going on inside that little head of yours?” Oh, and she was completely caught up in the way that your fingers kept brushing though her hair, in the way your eyes never left her.

“Nothing.” she sputtered out, what made you smile. You scooted a little bit closer, getting on your side so you could face her.

“Tell me, Abby…” you started. “What other things are there that you would like to do?” you bit your bottom lip, the fingers on her hair sliding down to her neck, where you connected the moles on her skin. Her eyes were on your red lips, on your chest, on your thighs… God, she felt impure.

“I… Uhm…” you decided to give her a little extra push, your chest almost brushing against hers as you leaned in, blowing the smoke on her face. She was taken aback, feeling the heat of your body against her making her pussy throb on her pants. She looked away from you, cheeks red and mind fuzzy, although her eyes found their way back to you when your palm pressed against her cheek, leading her back to you.

“Where are you looking at, hm? Eyes on me, Abby…” you muttered, your breath colliding with her own as you leaned in. “How pretty…” you muttered, thumb brushing against her bottom lip, pulling, getting a shaky breath as an answer. “Such a pretty face and yet no one has ever kissed you before? What a waste…” You weren’t stupid, you had noticed the way the blonde stared at you, expecting doe eyes, lingering blue shining above the red… “Such a pretty pretty girl.” she whined as your lips brushed against hers, teasing her, pulling her in to the sin she had learned to avoid. The sin she had made herself avoid.

“y/n…” she let out a short breath, hoarse voice only a whisper as she leaned in ever further, trying to pursue the plump of your lips and the electrifying feeling that shook her body anytime you were near.

“What is it, hm?” you smirked, and she whined when you pulled from her hair to keep her from getting any closer. “Want me to kiss you Abby?” you inquired. You liked the girl, you wanted the girl, and you were selfish about what you wanted, but you were no monster.

She nodded, tongue sneaking in between her lips to dampen them before they’d fall apart in a plead. “Please…”

You clicked your tongue, shaking your head and making her cry out. “Nuh-uh… You can do better than that, baby. Use your words. Let me hear you ask for it.” she whimpered, eyes on your red lips as her own cheeks flushed, probably due to embarrassment, or the alcohol that travelled through her veins, or the fact that she wanted it, you, so bad she felt like dying…

“Please, kiss me…” she whispered, almost inaudible under the music playing from the party. “Please…” and when her eyes met yours, when you saw that linger in the blue of them, the need… You were quick to pull her in, leaving the blunt aside as your lips met hers. God, you’d been wanting to do that since she had stepped in the room. Your core ached when she moaned in your mouth, her hands shaking at her sides as her eyes squeezed shut, what made you laugh as you pulled away, shaking your head. You quickly threw one of your legs over her lap, straddling her muscled thighs and making her eyes widen, muscles incredible stiff below you. “Come on, Abby, why don’t you relax on me a little?” you left a couple of wet kisses on her neck, making her sigh under your touch and letting your hands guide hers to your ass. “You can touch me, I don’t bite.” you amusedly said, teasing her before you would lean in once again to meet her lips, nor before a “Unless you want me to…” she was shaking when you kissed her again, breath hitching and a moan leaving her lips when you started to rock your hips against her. She was already wet. So wet… “Why don’t you open your mouth for me, hm?” you muttered against her mouth, your thumb pulling on her bottom lip. She did as you said, what made you smile. “Yeah, just like that, good girl…” she moaned when your tongue slid right inside her mouth, swirling around hers. Her fingers dug on your ass, making you hum into the kiss as you pulled on her hair. Her jaw fell slack as you ground a little bit harder against the crotch of her pants and against her aching cunt, which throbbed.

When you pulled away, her glasses had fogged up due to your wet kisses.

“y/n…” she whimpered as your lips trailed down her throat, harshly sucking hickeys on her skin and hands bucking you against her. She felt dizzy, high in a drug under your name, delirious even. This felt so good, you on top of her, dry humping her, kissing her… She never wanted it to stop.

“Shit… That’s it.” you said, getting off her lap —hearing a whine fall from her lips— and pulling from her hand so she could get up. “Let’s go.” you were fast to leave the stoner room and start to drag her upstairs, getting her in in the first empty room you could find and locking the door behind your back before you’d kiss her again. Seeing your lipstick all smeared on her lips made you want to devour her.

She opened her mouth for you, just like you had taught her, stumbling backwards in between groans as you led her towards the bed. She let out a surprised gasp when you pushed her on the chest, making her sit down. “What… What are you doing?” she inquired you as you kneeled in front of her, breathing strained and lips swollen. Her blonde hair was all messed up, as well as her clothes, and her pussy hurt so much under her pants she couldn’t help but wish you were back kissing her, rubbing against her and making it better. She was high, and needy, and the sight of you down on your knees with your hands brushing her thighs was absolutely not making the pain go away any time soon.

“Praying.” you smiled at her as you unbuckled her pants and pushed them down her thighs along with her underwear, your bottom lip in between your teeth.

“W-Wait!” she tried to stop you, overwhelmed by being so exposed in front of you, but all that embarrassment left her mind when you pushed her legs apart and left a little peck on her clit. Her pussy was pretty, blonde mound and pinkish dripping folds soaked for you. You smiled when she let out a load moan at the fat strip you made up her pussy, taking in all her slick, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. Your pussy was drenched, throbbing at her moans and whines.

“Such a pretty girl with a pretty pussy...” she whimpered when you licked clean her arousal off her slit. “Does that feel good, hm? Like my tongue?” she nodded, eyes squeezed shut when you gave it a long stripe from her hole to her clit before sucking it inside your mouth. You moaned against her, ‘cause she tasted so good… And you wanted to fuck your face on her pussy so bad that it had you thrusting your hips down on your heels to look for some relief.

“Oh, God… Ohgodohgodohgod…” you chuckled as you let her go with a pop, spitting on your hand before your fingers would circle her entrance, making her thighs clench and a moan leave her lips.

“No God here, baby, ‘s just me.” she whimpered when your mouth went back to her, slowly pushing one finger into her tight walls. Her fingers unconsciously laced on your hair, making you hum against her clit and her whine. She felt like chocking with her spit. She has never felt something like this. How could this feel so good? This was supposed to be a sin. She was supposed to be taken away by Satan to hell and burn for the eternity. And yet there she was, feeling like stepping in Heaven.

She seemed extremely sensitive on her clit, where you teased her with your tongue, making her moan and whimper as you curled your finger against her g spot. There was this pressure, this heat building up in her lower stomach that made her head feel all fuzzy and her limbs weak as you pushed your ring finger inside.

“y/n…” she whined, her pussy throbbing around your fingers and fully leaking. You could feel she was about to cum, and its speed and her poor stamina only made her cuter.

“Poor baby… Is it too much? Is my mouth too much for you, hm? Want me to stop?” you inquired her, entertained by her slack jaw and glossed over eyes. She was gone. Completely dumbified. You’d love to see how she’d react once she was thrusting against you, maybe fucking into you with a fake cock… You were dripping down your thighs at the thought of it.

She shook her head, the hand on your hair only tightening. “No! Please, don’t stop, please? Pleasepleaseplease…” she begged, moaning loudly when you went back to fucking her g spot. “Feels so good, so good, please…” she was a babbling mess, unable to think, desperate to reach something that she was stumbling towards, something new, something unknown…

You bit down on your bottom lip. “Are you gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum on my mouth? Gonna give me your first orgasm, hm?” her eyes rolled to the back of her head when she saw you stuck your tongue out, drool falling onto her pussy and clit and connecting it to your mouth through a string of spit. She was sure that you were a succubus, a devil in disguise that had come to haunt her and led her away from God. And honestly? She’d let you do it. ‘Cause just how beautiful you looked with her clit in your mouth, the sight of your glossed and red eyes staring up at her as you sucked her clean with all your red lipstick smeared all over her pussy and folds… Fuck. Simply… Fuck. She was so close to reaching that feverish feeling that had her shaking on her spot that she started to moan and whimper more loudly.

“Please, please, please…” she didn’t even know what she was begging for, her strained pleading making you start to lap at her faster, sucking on her clit harder. “Oh god, something’s gonna… I’m gonna…” she was a whimpering mess, eyes watering to the overwhelming sensation of her first orgasm, which was about to crumble her to pieces.

“Come on pretty girl, let go for me. Let me have it, hm? Let me taste you.” you said before kitten licking her clit, fucking her with your fingers. That’s all it took for her to fill your mouth up. Her orgasm hit her like a wave. So hard she was gasping for air, as if she were drowning under water. Her sight went completely white, mind blank and ears ringing as her body relaxed under your touch. When she came back from it, you were cleaning her up with your tongue, swallowing her warm cum and caressing her thighs in comfort. You hummed at the taste, sucking your fingers clean. “You okay, baby?” you inquired her as her eyes fluttered open, glossy and teary, pupils fully blown. She shivered when your lips latched to the skin of her hip bone, sucking hardly enough to leave a bruise, making her fingers lace harder in your hair.

“y/n…” she whimpered, feeling how your lips slowly trailed up her lower stomach, your hands getting rid of the buttons of her shirt as you sat back down on her lap. You were starting to believe it to be your favorite seat ever.

“Did that felt good baby?” you smirked, loving the fucked out look on her face and her dizzy nodding. “Look at you, so fucked out you can’t even speak. You liked cumming in my mouth, huh?” you teased her, making her moan as your hands sneaked up her unbuttoned shirt. “Want a taste?” you whispered on her ear, nibbling on her jaw and making her gasp, her pussy was already getting wet again. So eager… “Open up for me.” you whispered against her lips when she nodded. And she did. In a heartbeat.

Your tongue was quick to push inside her mouth, both of your moaning in the kiss as your hips rocked harder against her own. She was shaking when you pushed her hands from your waist to your breasts, she groaned when you squeezed hers to make a domino effect and urge her to touch you just how she wanted. “Tell me Abby, what is it that you want?” you inquired her as your breaths mixed, sucking on her bottom lip. Her eyes squeezed shut when you went back to sucking on her neck. “What do you want to do now?”

“I want… I want to make you feel good.” she breathed out, glossy brown eyes full of lust when staring into your own. She wanted to make you feel the way you had made her feel, better, if that could be possible…

You smiled at her words. “Oh yeah?” you bit your bottom lip brushing her messy hair backwards and playfully tugging on it, making her take a shaky breath as she nodded. “You wanna make me feel good, Abby?” her skin grew on goosebumps when you guided one of her hands down your body, ‘till her fingertips got lost underneath your dress and in between your legs. You moaned when her palm cupped your clothed cunt. She felt her heart skip a beat when you started to rock your hips against it. “Gonna let me teach you?” she nodded once again as you pushed your dress over your head, tongue coming out to lick her lips, eager to pull out of you more of those beautiful sounds. “Good girl…” you couldn’t know if she had moaned due to the amount of beautiful and flushed skin on display just for her or for your praise, but, at the moment, it truly didn’t matter, not when she stared at you like that.

She felt like fainting when she felt you, underneath the lace of your panties, her fingertips against your soaked cunt, so soaked you dripped on her fingers. “There.” you whined when you pushed her hand upwards, ‘till her fingertips bumped against that little bundle of nerves that could make you cum over and over again with just a little bit of stimulation. “Fuck, move your fingers around it, baby.” you instructed, moaning when she did, what only made her crave you more. “Yeah just like that.” you rocked your hips against her touch, pressing open mouthed kisses on her chest. “Now use your fingers. Inside.” you muttered on her neck when you pushed her hand down towards your hole. “Inside, please.”

Abby was lost. Lost in the new experience, in the new knowledge, but most of all, lost in the way your eyebrows knitted together when she first touched you under your underwear, or the way your mouth was falling open now that one of her fingers was fully inside of you, up to the knuckle. And Abby knew she was a goner when she found herself swearing. And she didn’t fucking swore. “Fuck.”

You were clamping around her finger when you pulled her in for a hungry kiss, teeth clashing and tongues swirling around each other as she started to pump in and out of you, making you moan and push on her touch. “Another one. Put in another one, please Abby.” you gasped out, and she followed, willing to do anything for you, anything as well as you kept moaning, and kissing her, and begging her for more, and… “Fuck, just like that…” you cried out.

Her pussy was throbbing like crazy, leaking in between her thighs as she took in just how… Heavenly you looked. On your black lace underwear, smeared red lipstick, messy hair, glossy eyes… You looked like an angel, no, like a god.

A god she would die to worship.

And she surely felt like cumming when her fingers slightly curved and hit that spot inside you that pulled out a whimper from your mouth. She wanted more. More of you falling apart. So she curved them once again, and again, and… But before she could know it, she found herself being pushed and laying on her back. “Wh—What?” she tried and ask. Had she done something wrong? If she had… But her voice died out when you were taking off your bra, and she felt like choking. They were perfect — it’s not like she had ever seen tits before, but if she had she would have thought the same—. They looked so soft… And your nipples, erect from lust… She just wanted to suck and bite on them.

She moaned when you rocked against her hips, the lace of your panties rubbing against her thigh. “y/n… Shit.” she could feel the dampness on the cloth, the heartbeat of your pussy against her.

“Too much, pretty girl?” you smirked, grabbing her wrists to lead her hands towards your breasts. Her big hands made you sigh when her fingers felt the plump of them, thumbs rolling your nipples…

“y/n…” she breathed out when you leaned in to kiss her neck and chest over her bra, marking her all up as she whimpered below you, loosing herself on the way your hips thrusted against her, your lips on her skin, your warm own in between her fingers… On the way your bare cunt felt against her skin once you’ve gotten rid of your panties, slick coating her skin as you slid against her. The two of you moaned before you could find yourself to hum in answer, eyes meeting her glossy and dazed ones. “More…” she whimpered, needing more, more of you. She noticed the hesitation in your eyes before her lips parted once again, “Please…” her hips thrusting upwards against your core, making you groan.

“So pretty begging…” you muttered before kissing her so deep and wet that she was left shivering.“You want to fuck me, hm? Want to fuck me, Abby?” you teased, pressing down against her and making her moan as she nodded. You moved in between her thighs sliding your fingers in between her lips.

“Yes, yes, yes… Pleasepleaseplease… Can I fuck you? Please, y/n, oh please. Let me fuck you, please…” tears swelled her eyes at the feeling of your pussy lining up with hers, mound barely touching, pressing down, teasing her with every false thrust of your hips. She needed to make you cum, needed you…

“How can I say no if you ask so nicely, hm?” you whispered against her lips before you’d push one of your thighs on her lap to push yourself against her, moaning at the feeling. It felt so painfully good you found yourself sinking your nails on her abs, moaning. “Shit, so wet…”

“Fuck.” she breathed out, eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” you felt so warm, so wet… Her fingers dug on your hips to keep you still when your clits met. By the way she was throbbing against you and how her breath sounded strained, you knew she was trying her best to not cum. So you waited it out, both of you did. A moan left her lips when your started to slightly grind against her, you biting down on your lip as she whimpered. “y/n…”

You slowly rose ‘till only your lips touched before slamming your hips back down onto her heat, moaning when your clits met and hearing her groan. “You like that, pretty girl? Your virgin pussy seems to, dripping like crazy for me.” you teased her, chuckling slightly when she nodded —too pussy drunk already— before starting to fuck yourself against her like the two of you needed.

And as your pace quickened, the more moans, pants and whines left both your lips.

“Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgi—“ she was a babbling mess as she watched you thrust against her sopping cunt —incoherent, moaning and whimpering, words becoming lost—, the sound of your juices filling the room along with the slapping of sweaty skin. You chuckled at her messed up appearance and crooked glasses.

“He can’t listen to you now, baby. Your moans suffocate it.” you smirked when she let out a whimper as you fucked her harder, kissing her neck and biting down on the skin. It was all so overwhelming… Your velvet lips leaving red stains all over her body, the prettiest tits bouncing up and down with every thrust, your soft moans and sighs of pleasure against her ear, the way you ground your puffy clit on hers, the way your warm and soaked pussy slid against hers… It was too much, too much that the blonde could feel tears stinging her eyes, threatening to spill over her flushed cheeks.

It surely was too much, but at the same time not enough.

She whined when you pushed yourself up and away, flopping on your elbows in front of her under her confused gaze. You gave her a playful smile before parting your legs, letting your pulsing wet hole show only for her. Her dilated pupils latched onto it, not letting go as one of your hands came to it to spread your sticky lips. She felt her mouth water, gulping loudly. “Why don’t you come fuck me like you’ve been wanting since this afternoon, hm? Don’t need to be a good girl with me, Abby.” she was quick to sit up and crawl her way over to you, enchanted by your sweet voice as if some enchantment had fogged her mind. She was even quicker to discard her glasses aside, unable to see no longer through the glass.

You gasped for air when she pushed in between your legs, and before you knew it, he was pushing her pussy against you in a quick and harsh thrust, making you grip and sink your nails on her broad shoulder blades as she started to relentlessly fuck you.

Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you moaned on her ear. “That’s it, shit.” you cursed in between heavy breaths, hearing her grunt.

She was hard, fast and needy, now being you the mumbling mess as you tugged on her hair and her lips sucked on your tits, biting your nipples and bruising the skin of your neck and chest, hands grabbing anywhere and everywhere, kneading your soft skin as she moaned against it. “Fuck Abby, that’s it, baby…” your body was buried and shook on the sheets with every new thrust, sliding up and down the duvet. She was fucking the brains out of you.

You gasped for air when one of her hands gripped your neck, pinning you to the bed as her hips harshly clashed against yours. You smirked when she groaned at your wetness, the feeling of your cunt sliding against hers. “I knew you had it in you. Not that of a good girl anymore, huh?” she whined when your fingers tugged harder on her hair, hips staggering at the pleasure as her eyes squeezed shut. She was in a daze. “You like that pretty girl?” you teased, moaning when her grip around your neck tightened and she gave you a extremely harsh thrust that pressed just on the right spot, making your thighs shake and a needy and loud moan leave your lips, crying out for her to fuck you harder, to fuck you just like that.

You could feel the coil on your lower stomach, every new hit on your clit making you get closer and closer to that high and making your walls clench. “Shit, y/n…” her lips parted in a whimper, her hand leaving your neck to take a hold on your hips and seek more of those pretty moans of yours… She dragged you against her pussy with every push of her hips, pulling from you to reach your highs.

“Abby i’m close, fuck, i’m so close baby, gonna cum all over your pussy, shit.” you were choking on your words.

Your moans got muffled when she kissed you, her tongue pushing inside your mouth as her thrusts lost their rhythm, too close to cumming on your sopping cunt. “y/n, y/n, y/n…” she could feel yourself throbbing against her, your orgasm approaching right beside hers. She wouldn’t last, you knew that. “fuck, ah, y/n I’m gonna…, I’m—“

One of your hands came up to her face, your thumb pressing against her bottom lip as she rested her forehead against yours, her breath fanning over your face. “Cum on me, please Abby, please…” you breathed out, eager, begging, gone. Her eyebrows knitted together as her lips fell on a moan, pussy throbbing as she thrusted against you one, two, three more times before painting your folds in white, making you moan at the feeling. Droplets of her cum were falling on your thighs and the sheets every new thrust, whimpering due to the stimulation but still eager to make you come, to make you feel good.

“Oh shitshitshitshit…” you muttered, your hips following hers as you felt yourself seconds away from your own release.

“Cum for me, y/n, please? Please, y/n, please…” she begged, driving you over the edge and making you cum so hard you saw stars behind your closed eyes.

She groaned when she felt your cum mixing with her own, coating her pussy.

The two of you stayed still as you came down from your highs. You were sticky with cum and sweat, but you couldn’t bring yourself to push her away, and she didn’t seem to despise the idea of holding you for a little longer.

Now Abby understood. She finally understood how even a creature as perfect as Lucifer couldn’t had helped falling to the deep depths of hell. All it took was the perfect sin, the perfect poison.

And Abby was sure to had found hers in you.

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Dying Of The Supe Virus

Requested: Hi!! I wanted to request a preference for the boys + homelander reaction if R was dying from supe virus... I love your blog, thank you ♥️♥️♥️♥️ - anon

A/N: I kinda took it in two directions, either actively dying or already dead. I think some perspectives just worked better that way! I really hope you like it my love! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Butcher pretends it didn't matter to him, but he definitely blames himself. It might've been Sameer who shot you up with the virus, but it was him who put you in charge of him. It was Billy who thought to put a Supe in charge of the only thing in the world that could kill you. When Frenchie breaks the news, Kimiko carrying your body in, he feels like he's going to be sick. He was the one who was dying. It should have been him. He tries to help the team move on, focus, and orders Frenchie to extract the virus from your body, but underneath he's broken. He didn't trust or like a lot of Supes, the majority actually, but you were different. You were close, whether or not he could admit to it. There was nothing he could do to save you. He couldn't turn back time, he couldn't prevent this. He looks like he's moved on, but Butcher feels stuck in the moment, watching your face, waiting for you to laugh and tell him it was just another sick joke.

Hughie laughs. He's hysterical. The ridiculousness of it all, of the situation. You? Dead? You couldn't die. You walked away from a bullet between your eyes with a smile. You made moving on from death look easy. Effortless. He's afraid to touch you, to look at you. He truly believes, for a moment, that that's not you. Your features are bubbled and blistered, but he recognizes your hands. Hughie backs away, stifling a laugh, escaping to the bathroom where he throws up. Annie tries to go after him, but M. M. stops her. He smiles despite himself, crying and laughing, unable to control himself. He already lost his dad. He couldn't lose you, too. Like M.M. he feels like an idiot, selfish even. He never imagined a world where you could be killed. He never thought he'd have to worry about you. Now you weren't just hurt, you were dead. Murdered. He can't accept it. You didn't deserve to suffer the way you did. You didn't deserve to die. Hughie is a mix between denial and hysteria.

Annie is overwhelmed with despair and depression. You've known her since the beginning. You were the first person she ever became close to in NYC. Now you were gone. She throws herself into your funeral arrangements, practically biting the head off anyone who tries to interrupt her or make her take a break. When she's not staying up until the early morning trying to make the memorial perfect, she's sobbing behind closed doors. She tries to keep herself composed as much as possible, but everyone can see the mask slipping. Cracking. Her eyes are permanently black from mascara running. She's not eating or sleeping. When Butcher says to extract the virus from your body, she goes postal. She calls him cruel and heartless and pathetic. She can't help it. Your body is barely cold and he's still thinking about taking down Homelander. It was inhumane.

M.M. is angry. Angry at Frenchie and Kimiko (he knows it isn't fair, but he just can't help it), angry at you, and angry at himself. He got too close to you. You were a Supe, after all. The very thing he vowed to hate. And then you showed up, and he started to care about you despite himself. And now you're gone. He feels like in idiot. He thought you were bulletproof. Literally. He never once had to worry about you or think about what would happen if you passed. It never crossed his mind. He was constantly worrying and fixating on everyone else, but you would always be okay. His OCD gets so much worse in response to his grief. Everything must be done in threes. The burners, the locks, everything must be checked three times. Everyone starts to worry the more out of control his rituals become. His panic attacks, too, get worse. Less manageable. Every time he thinks about you, what happened to you, he feels like his heart will pound out of his chest.

Frenchie is deeply in denial. He was so busy bickering and then making up with Kimiko that he hadn't realized Sameer had broken free. You were the first to jump at the chance to stop him, and that's what got you killed. The needle plunged into your ankle. He couldn't stop it. He couldn't cut off your limb. Your Supe abilities didn't work like that. The blisters bubbled fast, moving up your leg to your torso, your chest. You clawed at your neck, crying out, unable to form words. Frenchie begged and prayed, but it wasn't stopping. He had to break the news about your death. He definitely blames himself. If he had been paying more attention. If he had been the one to react instead of you. Even though he watched you die, he's still in denial. He can't accept it and thinks you'll be back in no time. He gets angry when you don't call or text and is intensely lonely because he's expecting you to reach out. He just can't wrap his head around it and absolutely hates that Annie's planning your funeral. You were fine. Why did you need a funeral for someone who was perfectly fine?

Kimiko blames herself, too. If she'd been the one to get the virus, if she'd been the one injected, they could have stopped it. They could have moved on. Instead, she sat beside you, unblinking, unmoving, stroking your arm. Even as Frenchie extracts the virus from your body, your blood, she doesn't let go of you. M.M. and Annie urge her to sleep and eat (though they're both doing little of that themselves), but she can't move from you. When she does sleep, it's with her head beside you. Everyone knows you only have so much time before your body starts to decompose. They want to give her as much time as she needs, but they're also working against the clock. She definitely reacts like after Kenji was killed, crawling and hiding under tables, unresponsive with her usual kindness. She's cold, cagey, spiky. There's no reaching her when she's like this. They have to let her be. Let her grieve. Eventually she'll find her way back.

Bonus! Homelander thinks everyone's lying. Ashley breaks the news to him, petrified and sweating. Something, a virus or bug or whatever, killed you. Because The Boys still needed your body, they mailed pictures of you to the Vought Tower addressed to Ashley. He looks through them, and though she tells him they're not fake, he orders them to check again. He holds on to one, unable to look away. When they tell him that yes, definitively, they are real, he orders everyone out. He goes to his floor and destroys everything. Everything is a mess. He hasn't cried like this in years, decades even. Uncontrollable sobbing, caressing your picture. You were the only one he ever really cared about. Now you were dead because of those asssholes. He doesn't come up with a strategy or plan. He will search the entire world until he has Butchers head on a platter. Until that whole fucking group is torn limb by limb.

[lesbojournals]

Poly!Marauders x Reader (who just came home from a behavioral health unit)

a/n: hey guyss long time no see ! this is kinda just an angst/comfort piece that reflects what i went through a few months ago. i tried not to make it too specific as everyone's experience with behavioral health care is different! pls don't read if you think this topic might be triggering for you

Your slip on shoes squeaked against the hospital floor as the nurse guided you towards the lobby. She turned around to give you a reassuring smile, and you tried your best to give her a smile back. 

It had been 9 days since you had last seen your boys. 9 days since your parents took you to the Emergency Room to be admitted into the behavioral health unit. 

You held a lot of shame in your chest as you trailed behind the nurse. You didn't let your boyfriends visit you during your stay, not wanting them to see you in such a weak state. You had always been their strong girl. 

You sighed as the lobby came into view, tears pricking at your eyes. Your parents had said Remus would be there to pick you up. You glanced down at your form, stringless pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt that didn't quite suit you. Would he still like you, even like this?

You spotted his car pulled up by the door, and your nurse gave you a wide smile.

“You did it hun,” She opened her arms for a hug, which you gladly accepted. “Feel better.” 

You could feel your throat constricting as tears threatened to leave your eyes, so you gave her a quick nod and took your belongings from her. 

You spotted Remus immediately as you left the hospital doors, and in seconds he was out of the drivers seat and in front of you. You took a second to look up at him. His honey eyes were glossy, worried, and you felt guilt consume you for causing the bags that were currently living under his eyes.

“Can I…” he whispered. “Can I hug you?” 

You choked back a sob and nodded, and the second you were in his embrace you fell down to your knees. He followed you down to the ground, his grip tight on you as he rubbed your back gently.

“It's okay my sweet dove,” He reassured. “You're okay.”

It was a few minutes before he was able to guide you up and get you in the passenger seat of the car.

You held your face in your hands, breathing heavily. How embarrassing. 

Remus kept quiet as he drove slowly, letting the music play gently on the radio as to not overwhelm you. 

“James and Siri are at home waiting,” He all but whispered. “We didn't want to overwhelm you with all of us at once.”

You sniffled and nodded, keeping your hands securely covering your face as tears continued to flow down.

Time seemed to move slow and then rapidly all at the same time. You could've sworn you just got in the car, but here Remus was turning off the ignition for the car and resting a timid hand on your leg.

“We're home, love.”

You let your hands drop although you were still crying, and looked up at your shared home with your boyfriends. 

Would they forgive you for keeping your mental health a secret for so long?

You almost feared seeing Sirius, in fact, you feared seeing all of them together.

Your brain told you one thing and one thing only. 

They were breaking up with you.

Remus gave your leg a gentle squeeze. “Are you ready to go inside?”

You let out a choked laugh, mixed with salty tears and despair. “I suppose.”

Remus grabbed your belongings from your lap and you let yourself out of the car. 

You trudged up to the front door, Remus not even having to take out his key before James swung the door open as fast as he could. His gaze went quickly from Remus’ to yours, and his smile dropped. 

“Oh love,” He cooed at you, and you felt the waterworks burst again as you cried into James’ chest.

You don't remember being guided to the couch, but somehow you ended up there with James latched to your side. He brought your hand up to his chest to feel his heart beat. 

“It's alright,” He comforted. “You're home.”

Sirius was next to make an appearance. When you lock eye contact with him you feel your lip tremble more. He had to be mad at you.

But the expression on his face said otherwise. He looked the most exhausted of the three, his hair unkept and his outfit disheveled and wrinkly. He looked awful, and that was a lot considering Sirius was someone who regularly kept up on his appearance.

He opened his arms for a hug and you leaped from James’ side to be held in his embrace. He sounded on the verge of tears.

“Oh baby,” His voice barely let out. “I love you so much.”

This caused you to hug him tighter, cry harder, and nearly fall to the ground on your knees again.

“Hey, hey,” Sirius grabbed your face with his hands, eyes full of concern and glossy tears. “It's okay.”

“I thought-” You hiccuped through your wet sobs. “I thought you were going to break up with me.”

Shock fills Sirius’ expression and he lets go of your face to hug you tighter. 

“No, no, no baby,” You can tell he's crying a bit harder now. He nestles his head in the crook of your neck. “We love you so much.”

It was quiet for a while, the environment filled with your heavy breathing and sniffles. You closed your eyes and focused on your breathing–the way the nurses taught you how to in the hospital. In through your nose, out through your mouth. 

Steadily, you started to relax in Sirius’ arms, and his grip loosened around your waist. You looked up at him and made contact with his silver-colored eyes, and he let hair fall in front of his face as he leaned down to whisper.

“Are you okay?” 

You nodded feverishly, and Sirius hesitantly let go of you. You slumped back onto the couch, practically on top of James, which he gladly accepted. He put a protective arm around you and started to rub circles on your back.

Remus knelt down to your eye level, putting a comforting hand on your knee. “Do you want to change out of these hospital clothes, dovey?”

You pondered it for a moment, stuck between being comfortable next to James and wanting every last inch of your 9 day stay washed away. 

Remus patiently waited for your response, and you nodded. He stuck his hand out for you to grab and you did so, allowing him to pull you off of the couch. 

“I need a shower.” You begrudgingly told him, and he nodded in understanding. 

You trailed behind Remus, still holding his hand as he led you to the bathroom. You sat on the tile floor as he started the shower for you, holding his hand out under the water as he waited for it to be an adequate temperature. When it was ready, he silently helped you up to take off your clothes. 

It was in no mean a sexual act. He paid no attention as he helped you take off your shirt and pull down your pants. Your eyes filled with tears at the gentle love he so easily expressed for you. 

He didn’t push you, nor did he ignore the tears forming in your eyes. He knew what they meant. 

“Would you like me to shower with you?”

You shook your head no. You appreciated every last word, knowing it was fully his love and his heart ready to be there for you till the last second. 

“I need privacy.” You whispered to him, and he nodded his head, going to leave. 

“Wait-” You grabbed his hand, and he turned back to you. “Will you wait outside the bathroom till I’m done?”

He brought your hand to his lips, giving it a small kiss. “Of course.”

And with that you got into the shower. It was a luxury you hadn’t appreciated–showering without interruption, without eyes on you. It was a quick shower, but a perfect one. You came out of the bathroom in one of your large, fluffy towels–another luxury you didn’t really realize you had. 

Remus gave you a small smile when you opened the door. He waited, just as he said he would. 

He followed you as you walked to the bedroom, seeing a pair of James’ sweats and one of Sirius’ band shirts folded neatly on the bed. Your favorites of theirs to wear. Remus handed you a pair of fuzzy socks and you gladly got into them. 

When you got back into the living room you noticed your favorite candle was lit, and that Sirius and James were cuddling on the couch in one of your favorite blankets. 

James perked up at the sound of yours and Remus’ footsteps. 

“Darling,” He breathed out gratefully. “Come join us.”

You curled up on James’ other side, Remus coming over behind you to wrap his arms around you. You had your ear pressed to James’ chest, listening carefully to his heartbeat. You knew you had a rough road ahead with recovery, and your boys knew it too. But you had them there for you, and that just might be enough. 

[anystalker707]

so this is love

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x [gender-neutral] Reader Synopsis: You're overwhelmed, and your awkward boyfriend wants to help Tags: Law is learning how to take care of his partner / comfort / soft

Requested by anon ["Helloooo!! Hope you’re well 🫶 if you’re open for requests, would it be alright to ask of a comfort scinario with law and an overwhelmed reader? They don’t know what to do so they try to work it off or shut it off somehow, but Law notices and has other ways to help? You can take it any direction !! (You can also skip if it’s weird aaa just needing some law comfort lately :< also love your Sanji comfort keep it up !!) Take care of yourself, you’re an amazing writer! Have a good one <3"]

MASTER LIST

Law was good at studying people’s behavior. It was tactical. It helped a lot in making plans and alliances, not to mention how it helped improve the crew’s bond. Now, though, it was helping his relationship.

The distance you imposed over everything and everyone else had been there for a while, but it only ticked Law when your absence was noticeable to him. He closed his hand around nothing, feeling his cold fingertips press against his own palm instead of your warm hand, and the banter between the other pirates quickly became a useless distraction in the back of his mind. He would catch up with Kid and Luffy later—and given their unpredictability, it would be the same as if he never left—, and being away from that intense bickering would give his nerves a nice break.

Law’s eyes roamed around the place for a moment. You weren’t with Chopper, Bepo, or Killer, or sitting somewhere quieter with a newspaper or a random thing in hand, so he had to think a little more about it. He took a deep breath, drumming his fingers over his sword. There weren’t a lot of places to be there on that coast of the island, especially when you didn’t want to be seen by anyone else, including locals.

“Seen (y/n)?” Law muttered to Chopper, who seemed to think for a moment.

“They said they were thirsty,” Chopper said, looking around, and he didn’t have the opportunity to say anything else before Law left.

The sound of the others’ bickering was muffled by the waves crashing against the shore the further away Law walked, trying to find you. The chances of you being caught by the marine or anyone else that mattered was sparse, but still… Law bit the inner side of his cheek, his eyebrows furrowing a little as he walked a little faster, and a heavy breath escaped his lips once he saw you sitting back against a tree, tapping a foot repeatedly against the ground while muttering something under your breath.

Relief mixed with a new kind of concern inside Law’s chest as he stepped closer. What should he do, honestly? He had never been close like that to someone else, and he didn’t want to ruin what he already had with you. Law looked down at you with. Your lack of reaction to his approach made his heart tighten, so he just stood there, eventually nudging your foot with his own.

“Love,” Law said, finally, but he couldn’t do much more than a whisper. “Love,” he insisted, and his worry faded away when you looked up, glaring at him with a playful air on your face, making him exhale with a small smile. “I was looking for you,” he said as he sat down beside you slowly, sighing as he leaned back against the tree as well.

“Looking for me,” you muttered, and he nodded.

“Of course,” Law added, raising an eyebrow. Why wouldn’t he be looking for you in a situation like that? Either way, knowing what was going on was more important, and he had to approach it somehow. The more he thought, the harder it got, and he couldn’t find the words to touch the subject smoothly. “Are you alright?” He followed your gaze to the sea, not wanting to put any pressure on you, possibly.

Only the sound of the waves filled in for the following minutes, eventually followed by your sigh. “I… I don’t know. It’s kinda annoying. There’s so much stuff going on. Like, we have a plan, we have to make sure the plan is done, so we also have to be careful and know how to deal with the other crews, but we also have to hide from the marine, mind ourselves… It’s annoying and boring, at the same time. I wish I could run away from that for a while, and find something more useful and nicer to do, but there’s always something to worry about. We haven’t been able to relax or anything for weeks.”

Law’s eyebrows rose lightly as he slowly nodded. He knew the feeling, but it had been a long time since he’d learned to ignore it, so he took a while to answer. He had no lover or comfort person back then, but if he did, he surely would’ve wanted them to be around and help him. Learning boundaries was still a work in progress, but he knew he could do this. Or, at least, he hoped.

“It’s fine, many things are happening all at once. New things,” Law mumbled as he wrapped an arm around you slowly. He made sure to take his time to make every move, always giving you time to pull away in case you wanted to. Maybe you wanted to be alone, though. “Do you—”

“Thanks for being here,” you muttered, resting your head against his shoulder. “I wish I could turn my brain off for a moment. Can you just ‘shambles’ it away for a while?” You joked, and he couldn’t help but scoff, eyes widening lightly.

“I wish I could ‘shambles’ us away from this mess, actually,” Law muttered as he grew more confident and wrapped both his arms around you, pressing a few soft kisses to your cheek. The sight of your smile made Law’s heart flutter, and his shoulders dropped with the tension wearing off. “But I can be here for you. Does this count?”

You nodded slowly, a small smile on your lips, contrasting with the tired haze in your eyes. “It’s more than enough, actually,” you sighed, leaning more into Law, and he finally felt like he was doing something right. The warmth that spread in his chest made him feel all giddy and comforted, wanting to hold you even closer.

“Come here,” Law muttered, adjusting his position, and eventually, you were sitting down between his legs, with your back against his chest, slumping a little. It wasn’t ideal, but it felt like heaven right now, compared to everything else, even more so with Law’s comforting touches, fingertips pressing gently against your scalp as he massaged it, aside from the soft kisses he occasionally pressed to your shoulder. All in the right measure. “Is this too much?”

“No, it’s just enough,” you whispered. Your eyes closed, and Law took a few seconds to admire the sight lovingly.

“We don’t need to go back so soon. Let’s just be here. Just us,” Law whispered as he settled his arms around you, holding you close. There were pauses between his words, seconds he took to think and rethink his words, trying his best to ignore the awkwardness. After all, you loved him just the way he was, right? Awkward or not. Just like he loved you back. Overwhelmed or not, and he wanted to take care of you.

Law ran his fingers through your hair, pulling your head back against his shoulder, and he was pleased when he felt you relax against him, your eyes closing. A few words were stuck in Law’s throat, never stringing together enough to be worth saying, so he opted to remain silent for the time being, holding you against him. He could do so many things and beat so many people up, but he still couldn’t prevent you from becoming overwhelmed like that.

“You’re comfortable,” you whispered, unintentionally fishing Law away from the bad thoughts and erasing that annoying feeling away from his chest, instead focusing on the way you pressed closer. “Can we stay here for a while? Can I take a nap here?”

For a moment, every word seemed to disappear from his mind, but Law finally exhaled, nodding. “Yes, of course, love.”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[nayedoll]

hiii i saw you wanted some requests soo how about some angst where reader and joost are getting kinda heated one night but the reader is not really in the mood but thinks she should just get over herself for joost’s sake but joost ofc notices she’s not alright and stops right away and asks what’s wrong and the reader just explains it and joost is like :(( and she kinda realises she was scared of saying no and his heart breaks and he assures her she can always say no to him etc etc just angst with comfort and fluff if you’re comfy? xx

Console me

joost klein x reader

word count: 1.7k

a/n: this is from like july lol and i dont rlly like it but i wanted to feed yall with something bc im busy, so enjoy ☁️☁️☁️

───────────────────────

The bitter taste of your coffee sits on your tongue as you take a sip out of your mug, your tired eyes looking around the dimly lit kitchen. The window is a little open, just enough so that you’re able to listen to the light rain outside. You take a deep breath, finally feeling at ease after hours and hours of working, desperately trying to take advantage of your free time to complete the overwhelming amount of workload you’ve had lately. It took a lot of coffees and crying but eventually you got there— only now you’re left exhausted, unreleased stress wandering in your mind.

Your boyfriend being gone the whole day certainly didn’t help; Joost left early in the morning, said he and Tantu would be working on a few songs. To be fair, he had called you throughout the day but your phone was on silent, tucked away in another room to prevent any distractions— now that you opened your phone again, you feel kind of guilty seeing the three missed calls and unopened messages he sent you.

The house feels so empty without him, so lifeless that it adds to the melancholy of the day. You just want to see him again, hear his voice and hug him; his presence alone is enough to comfort you, make you feel a little better.

Just when you’re thinking about it, the front door opens and closes again, the familiar sound indicating that Joost is finally home.

“Schat?” Joost calls out from the other room.

You get up — in pain — but nonetheless rush to the living room, wearing a smile on your face, trying to appear less miserable than you surely are because burdening Joost with your problems is the last thing you’d want.

Joost is taking his shoes off, looks up at you, smiling as you approach him and pull him into a warm hug,

“Heeyy baby,” You coo, wrapping your arms around his torso.

His clothes are a little wet, the raindrops on his jacket also wetting your sweater as he brings you closer by your waist.

“Hey,” Joost presses a kiss on the top of your head, on your messy hair; it’s just what you need right now, your neediness making you cling onto him for a little longer.

“Looks like someone’s in need for a hug today,” He says softly, bringing a smile to your lips as you whine and pull away. He notices your eyes, droopy with weariness and a little puffy from crying throughout the day. Furrowing his brows, he asks you— “Everything good?”

You lick your lips, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah,” You mumble, almost whispering.

Joost narrows his eyes at you, simpering expression on his face; he’s not exactly assured by your words but doesn’t want to pressure you— your one year anniversary is this month but sometimes he still feels like you haven’t fully opened up to him, like there’s still a wall between you that you refuse to demolish.

“Alright,” He kisses your cheek ever so softly, changing the subject to something else which you’re grateful for.

—

After what feels like hours, you’re in bed again, under the warm covers but most importantly wrapped in Joost’s arms. His voice is deep, vibrating in your head as you lay on his chest, his fingers gently playing with your hair; you don’t bother to speak much, you wish you could but the exhaustion doesn’t let you— besides you’d much rather listen to Joost’s jokes than be the one to kill the mood by talking about your depressing, boring day.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve barely said a word today,” Joost asks, his thumb grazing your shoulder.

You force a chuckle, “Joost I’m fine,” Slightly sitting up, kissing him in hopes that he’ll stop asking; you feel bad for lying to him, you want to open up but you just can’t— you’ve always had this bad habit of bottling your feelings up, staying quiet, though ever since Joost stumbled into your life, you’ve managed to speak more openly with him about things. But still, you assume silence is better than attempting to explain what’s wrong, burst into tears and therefore ruin his night. “You’ve asked me like a million times,”

Joost kisses back, his hand gently cupping your cheek.“Sorry… I just care about you, y’know?” His voice is soft and raspy as he deepens the kiss, slowly pushing you back into the pillow, his sweet words making you smile.

“I missed you today,” He hovers over you, his lips traveling to your neck, the stimulating feeling of his wet kisses making your breath shiver.

You know where this is going, any other night you’d want it more than anything but right now… it’s too much— you’re tired, worn out and frankly, on the verge of tears. However, it’d be selfish to deny Joost the one thing he wants after a long day; he said he missed you and he’s been so loving since the moment he came home when you’ve only managed to worry him with your behavior.

Joost slowly strips your pajama top off, two strong hands moving up your waist. “Did you miss me too, liefde?” He murmurs against your neck.

“Yes, yes I did,” You breathe out— at least you’re not lying about that.

Joost slides his hand down to your inner thigh, at the hem of your pajama shorts, making your breath hitch as his fingers stroke the sensitive area. He is losing his mind over the sweet sounds you make, he wants nothing more than to make you feel good despite the bad day you’ve had. He noticed your desk earlier, messy with paperwork and empty coffee cups— it made him feel guilty for leaving you alone the whole day with no one to talk to, no one to make you a warm cup of coffee and help you get through the workload more easily.

He breaks the kiss to take his shirt off as you stare up at him with sleepy eyes— all those damn coffees and you’re still feeling exhausted.

The guilt makes its way back to your head. If I turn him down, will he think I don’t love him?— that little voice inside of you is once again telling you to put others’ needs first, to sacrifice your own feelings for the sake of not disappointing the person you love.

You feel pressured, not by Joost but by yourself. All of your unreasonable fears and thoughts are pushing at either side of you so hard that there’s barely any room to relax, practically eating you alive.

Your eyes become teary before you even know it, not having enough time to hide from Joost. He’s about to take his sweatpants off when he glances at you, immediately noticing your glistening eyes and the uneasy expression on your face.

“Hey, what’s wrong,” He sits down closer to you, his palm gently resting against your cheek as he studies your face with worried eyes.

“What? Nothing,” You furrow your brows, forcing a weak smile. “Why’d you stop?” Leaning in to kiss him on his neck, you attempt to lower his sweatpants, continue from where you left off.

“Y/n,” Joost repeats your name, pulling away from you. “Don’t tell me it’s nothing because it’s not,”

You stay silent. Looking down at your fingers as you fidget anxiously with your hands.

Joost sighs, “Please tell me what’s wrong liefde, you’re worrying me,”

You’re worrying him. The only thing you wanted was to please him and you did just the opposite.

Your lips quiver and you try to hold back the tears but with the way Joost is looking at you, patiently waiting for a response, you can’t help but start crying as hot tears begin to flow down your face uncontrollably.

“Joost I’m sorry, I can’t-“

He immediately wraps his arms around you, embracing you softly— his palm is running up and down your back as you try to control your shallow breaths, creating a comforting pattern.

“Shhh it’s okay,” His voice so calm and so sweet despite the situation.

You stay like this for a while, thinking about what happened, both interpreting it in different ways— Joost is wondering what had made you cry like this, dreading the possibility that he’s played a part in it; you, on the other hand, can barely control your racing thoughts, the voice in your head convincing you that he’s disappointed, annoyed with you and your dumb problems.

Once your breath is back to normal, he asks you again, “Do you wanna tell me what’s wrong now?”

Your head is still buried in his bare chest, slowly rocking back and forth with him, “I don’t want to disappoint you,” You say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Disappoint me..? With what?”

You sigh, “I’m just- I’m not in the mood right now,” You explain, feeling a pang of guilt when you hear your words out loud, rushing to explain yourself because in your mind it sounds mean, it’s unfair to him. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been so stressed toda-“

“Heyyy,” Joost interrupts you, lightly pushing you back so that you’re fully facing him.

Your eyes are a little puffy, face slightly red as a result of your crying. “You look so cute like that,” He taps the tip of your nose, coaxing you to smile as he holds your hand softly in his.

Deep down, he’s hurt— not because you turned him down, never, but because you felt bad for doing so, ignoring your feelings just to please him— and it breaks his heart. Since the beginning, he’s known that opening up doesn’t come easy to you and it’s always saddened him, seeing you struggle all on your own. He wants you to feel comfortable, safe, he loves you.

“Baby, it’s totally fine if you don’t wanna fuck me,”

You laugh at his straightforwardness, always so good at lightening the mood; it’s one of his many qualities that you love.

You avert your eyes from him, that bad feeling still lingering inside of you.

“Sorry,” You whisper, pursing your lips together.

“Stop saying sorry,” His scolding makes you laugh— but he’s right, you should stop apologizing for doing what feels right and embracing your feelings.

You nod, wiping your tears. Leaning forward, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek, then a deeper one to his lips,

“I love you,” You whisper, smiling when he says it back.

His arms envelop you, the sound of his heartbeat so comforting as you wrap an arm around his torso, letting his scent fill your senses.

Soon you begin to drift off to sleep, Joost’s voice becoming more distant while he rants about the new album. Looking down at you, he notices the small huffs that slip from your lips, a smile forming on his lips.

You hear him say your name softly, mumbling something incoherent in response.

“Tell me everything from now on, alright?” He says, caressing your hair, his delicate touch lulling you to sleep all the more.

“Promise,” You whisper, half asleep but still meaning it.

Before you even know it, you’re sleeping in Joost’s arms as he continues combing his fingers through your hair, slowly and carefully.

“What am I gonna do with you?” He basically says to himself, gazing at your pretty face while you sleep.

───────────────────────

౨ৎ thank u for reading!

[tbaluver]

Hi! I love all of your work!! It's literally perfect 🫶🏻

I hope it's not bothering you but if you're okay can you do about a reader that's still in university and kinda overwhelmed with her studies and presentation. I kind of feel down cause I have an upcoming presentation with my lecturer and I'm not really comfortable with him since he always yelled and shaming my class during our presentation. It's hard to not feel hurt with his words sometimes because he took it kinda personal like shaming our appearance (how we dress which is by university law is completely okay) and sometimes badmouthing us. Sometimes it's frustrating because if we don't understand something he outwardly calls us dumb and it's really upsetting since he didn't even help us. We rarely ask for help from our lecturer since my class is full with top students so to be turned down and called dumb is kind of upsetting.

I'm so sorry if it makes you uncomfortable that I end up yapping and rant here. But feel free to turn down my request! Hope you have a nice day~

When You're Stressed From School- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: comfort a/n: hihi anonnie! don't worry you did not make me uncomfy i love it when you guys yap in my inbox! but i'm really sorry to hear that and it sounds rlly unfair to be treated that way. just remember his behavior reflects on him and not on your abilities. i believe that you've worked hard and prepared enough and that's what truly matters! i know it's easier said then done but try not to let his negativity affect you i believe in you, you got this! ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ and that goes out to all my other readers out there that is struggling with school right now! i hope this was okay and that you enjoy! good luck to all your studies everyone (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He would make sure you would have taken breaks to eat, drink water, and clean your mind a bit. Any breaks would include going out of the house and a walk in the park to get some fresh air from the inside. He'll make sure to stretch with you so it'll take some stress off your shoulders.

While you continue studying, he'll play some calm/lo-fi music as you study. He'll rest his head on your shoulder or lap and asks you to explain the topic to him so that way it'll help you learn if you say it out loud.

He'll celebrate small achievements while you study. Anytime you learn and memorize something new, he'll take you out for ice cream on your break or to go get a quick yummy snack break.

If you were stressed about an intimidating professor, he'll listen to what you have to say while rubbing soothing circles on your hand. "I see, I understand that your teacher can be harsh but don't let that ruin all your hard work you've shown me. I'm always here to support you and I'll be right outside when you finish school."

And he will be waiting outside of your university with a bag of goodies for you. It's a small gesture but it's his genuine admiration and support for you

Zayne:

He would try his best to help you study. If it was a subject he knows well then he'll try his best to teach you. If he didn't he'll look up on easier ways to do it and show you. He'll also make you some tea to help you relax or cut up some yummy fruits or hand you your favorite snacks as you work. He'll sit beside you if you need him to help while he does his own thing.

He's very familiar with presentations. He's done them a lot with medical conferences so he'll be your audience as you practice your presentation to him. He'll help you memorize anything on your slides and maintaining eye contact.

If the teacher were to give you a hard time in class then he'll listen to your entire rant. He doesn't say much until you finish but you know he would be listening the entire time. He'll give you reassurance and advice after your rant.

"I've seen you put in so much effort, and you're already doing amazing. Remember, no matter how tough your teacher might be, you've done everything you could to prepare. I believe in you, and I know you're going to do so well."

He'll be waiting outside of your university next to his car. He'll have a box of bakery sweets waiting for you after a challenging day.

Rafayel:

He knows that school can be really stressful. He hates seeing you so upset and stressed for school. So his mission is to cheer you up. He'll be your personal cheerleader from the sidelines. On the day of your exams or presentation, he'll make sure to motivate you when you wake up. "You're going to do great no matter what happens!", "Once you're finished with school let's go to your favorite restaurant by the beach?"

He'll keep reminding you on how smart and beautiful you are. He won't stop until you admit it and until you kiss him. He has complete faith in you whether it's an exam or a presentation or both.

For your presentations, he'll gather all your plushies and set them up as your audience, silently cheering you on while you practice your slides and lines with them- and with him.

He'll offer a walk in the beach for a bit to get your mind off the work and for you to get some fresh air. "Can you please take a break, for me?" Any doubts that slip out of your lips, he'll tell you otherwise.

"Hey doubt is just a sign that you care but remember you're more ready than you think! Trust in your preparation and your abilities and if you don't, I trust in you. Even if your teacher is being difficult, that doesn't change how incredible you are. I think you're going to do great."

Sylus:

He would pull you into his lap and wrap his arms around your waist while you study. He'll quiz you or he'll make a quiz to help you.

If you were really stressed, he'll take your hand in his and calm you down. He's your rock when your stressed out and a shoulder to lean on during stressful times. He'll pull you to his chest and reassure you, whispering comforting words to you.

He'll set up Luke and Kieran as your makeshift audience, silently cheering you on as you practice your presentation. As you finish delivering your slides, he'll be brimming with pride. With a soft smirk and a knowing look, he'll give you that 'I told you so' expression, because he always believed in you. Seeing you succeed already in practice just confirms what he already knows- that you're going to do great.

"Let me be what you need." He'd listen to all your troubles about how your professor was giving you and your class a hard time. He'll reassure you that you don't have to worry about your professor. After hearing your rant about your professor, he'll deal with them himself. Your professor might want to sleep with one eye open from now on but at least you wouldn't have to stress about that class anymore!

"Sweetie, what's there to worry about? Look you're already doing such a good job. You've put in so much effort and it's all coming together. Just trust in yourself like I do- you've got this my love."

[kunoiashifts]

ᴡᴀɪᴛ, ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴀꜱʏ? *:･ﾟ✧

* ˚ ✦ title is literally what i'm currently going through AS WE SPEAK 😭

* ˚ ✦ okay, this week has been a little wonky for reasons i'd rather not get into, but basically there was something going on today that i just DID NOT WANT TO DO.

* ˚ ✦ and with that, i began to panic a bit and kind of subconsciously put shifting onto a time crunch which is TERRIBLE FOR ME!! time crunches make me extremely anxious, however a lot of things happen in my life that make me want to shift asap sadly

* ˚ ✦ so, last night i was very overwhelmed and was upset about everything as a whole which carried on into this morning as the deadline(?) was literally right around the damn corner. (i had to go right after school). i spent the morning wallowing a bit about it and dreading the outcome of me having to go somewhere i didn't want to go to

* ˚ ✦ i overconsumed content on shiftblr AGAIN which is a horrible cycle i need to break whenever i feel stuck because for me, it just reinforces the idea that i don't know what i'm doing WHEN I DO KNOW 😭😭

* ˚ ✦ as i did that, i was like ok. i don't wanna take a break, i just want to get out of this situation. so throughout the day, whenever i thought about what i didn't want, i just said "i don't have to go." and even throughout the doubts and spirals about shifting, i still affirmed for a different outcome instead. i feel like the fact that i was so focused on having not shifted to my dr in general made me kind of lessen the doubts and stress over the circumstance that was actually upsetting me which is WHY i managed to manifest a different outcome so quickly

* ˚ ✦ i literally kept getting pissed about shifting while simultaneously affirming and revising the idea of what i dreaded so badly that made me want to shift in the first place (which is kinda funny because i could've EASILY just manifested it away earlier instead of throwing shifting under the bus (HELPP), but i digress)

* ˚ ✦ fast forward to after school, where i literally sat in my bed and LOCKED IN. i was kind of affirming for both at this point like on one hand i was accepting the outcome of me having to go but on the other hand i was like i'm still gonna try to shift before it even happens just in case.

* ˚ ✦ i laid down in bed since i had maybe 2-ish hours before i had to go and used alunirs new video as a way to help me shift. didn't shift to my dr, but i got extremely close as i saw flashing lights, fast heartbeat (worst symptom for me IT DISTRACTS ME BADDD), felt extremely numb, etc. etc. but that's not the reason why i felt so close.

* ˚ ✦ i was hit with a sense of realization again. like oh, it's really this easy, i just have to remember i shifted. i felt so free and calm, as if i was already there in my dr again. as if it was just a simple act of remembering (because it is!). it started to feel natural, which in my opinion was the shift of my awareness :D then i fell asleep for a few minutes before waking back up. my mind drifted back to my current situation again which worried me, but made me remember; i could change it.

* ˚ ✦ i began to affirm for both shifting, and what i wanted. "i don't have to go, i get to stay home." (and i was saying "home" as in my dr bc i consider it my home :3)

* ˚ ✦ and you know what happened around 10 or so minutes later? my dad got a call and told me i didn't have to go because he could tell i was tired. it was that. easy.

* ˚ ✦ TLDR: Despite me spiraling a little all day, I managed to change the outcome for something I didn't want ON A TIME CRUNCH WHICH IS WHAT I HAD BEEN WORRIED ABOUT ALL WEEK! It took LESS THAN ONE DAY. One school day of me just affirming and being the person that just doesn't have to go somewhere they didn't wanna go to.

Honestly, I pretty much DID shift, too! Shifting = Manifesting to me. I just shifted my awareness into a reality where I got to stay home and the 3D reflected it instantly.

* ˚ ✦ :D so tonight i'm gonna shift to my dr to celebrate.

- ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ɴᴏɪᴀ

[tenjikyu]

𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 - 𝘧𝘢𝘺𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘣𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ what happens when chifuyu is forced to break it off with you ?

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ gn!reader , angst to fluff , forced breakup , lots of crying , vv sad chifuyu :( , kinda short sos .

chifuyu seriously had no idea what he was doing.

the look on your face was an expression he vowed to never have you make at the beginning of your relationship.

“i’m sorry (Y/N), but we should really stop seeing eachother. i’m not happy with you and i want to end it.” he spits out, almost choking on his own words. it felt as though something was blocking his airways, punishing him for breaking your heart.

“okay…” your voice speaks out, tears of your own flooding your cheeks.

as you slowly walked away from your beloved boyfriend, you couldn’t help but wonder. where did you go wrong? he didn’t seem unhappy 3 days ago when you two went to the arcade with hanagaki and tachibana, did he? when did this begin?

your only bodily response was more tears that were protruding down your face, nose crimson red and eyes slowly puffing up. you walk away slowly, assuming he no longer wanted to be around you.

“godamnit” chifuyu gets out before his own tears flood down his cheeks.

only a few hours earlier, your father had sat down with your boyfriend, unbeknownst to you.

“i don’t want you dating my child and i think i’ve made that very clear.” your father almost spits in disgust at your appalled boyfriend. break up?? with you?? no fuckin way??

“you’re a good for nothing delinquent who does nothing but heat up other boys. the only times i’ve even seen you, you’re beat up and injured! how long before you get (Y/N) involved in your violence, or even worse, lay a hand on my child.”

“ I WOULDN’T DARE RAISE MY HAND TO (Y/N).” the blonde screeched, overwhelmed and stressed. why now? why did he have to do this right before such a big holiday? did he want to ruin your christmas??

chifuyu knows you splurge about him to your family, that’s how your father knows so much about him, including what he gets up to when the sun goes down. but you never spoke ill of him, so why is your dad getting so defensive?

he’s proven on multiple occasions he’s a total gentleman to you! and he gets the same treatment back from you! you open doors for each other, make food for one another, come racing over when one of you is sick e.t.c. why do this now?

but..

in the back of chifuyu mind, he starts to wonder.

what would happen if you got dragged into this? what if someone uses you as a way to get information?

it’s obvious to anyone that chifuyu is a loyal man, and his loyalties lies with keisuke baji, takemichi hanagaki and you. there’s no chance he wouldn’t give away valuable info to keep you protected, anyone in toman could see just how dedicated he is to keeping you safe.

this thought runs through his head as he breaks up with you, just 2 days before christmas. before his christmas battle.

the next two days were a shitfest. you father didn’t take into account how this would affect you. you had locked yourself in your bedroom, sobbing to the polaroid photos of you and you beloved boyfriend that you took together everyday.

of course, you’re mother does everything to comfort you after hearing what had happened, however you were inconsolable.

“mom, this is the boy i thought i was going to marry, you don’t just get over that.” you sigh. no amount of hugs could help you.

“in my opinion he was only a setback. you should be greatful he’s gone.” your father speaks up.

. .

. . . .

wait…

you practically yanked the door off its hinges, startling you mother who was sat on your bed in another fruitless attempt to console you. you had only just heard what your father said to himself, and in that moment you knew why chifuyu had broken up with you.

“IT WAS YOU! YOU TOLD CHIFUYU TO BREAK UP WITH ME, DIDN’T YOU”. you bawled to your father, his face in total astonishment that you had spoken to him in such a manner, especially on christmas night.

“YOU DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT HIM, DO YOU DAD?? I SING HIS PRAISES EVERYDAY BUT ALL YOU TAKE HIM FOR IS A STUPID DELINQUENT! MAYBE IF YOU GOT TO KNOW HIM MORE, YOU’D SEE HE CARES ABOUT ME MORE THEN ANYTHING!” you scream towards your stunned father, guilt piling up in his stomach.

knowing what you had to do, you chucked a coat over your pijamas, your family yelling at you to come back inside.

you didn’t care, you had to get to your boyfriend.

though you didn’t make it very far, as chifuyu was stood right outside your house with tears welling in his eyes. he was battered beyond belief, uniform thrashed and body more blood then skin. he had a serious injury on his ankle and his bike was parked next to him.

“chifuyu..” you mumble out, running towards him, your arms opening wide.

“(Y/N)-” he couldn’t finish his sentence as you crashed into his embrace, one of your arms caress waist, with the other embracing his beaten cheek.

he held onto your shoulders, huddling into your warmth. he could only pray to the gods above that you’d forgive him.

“i’m so sorry (Y/N), please… i can’t do anything without you by my side. the entire fight i felt sick to my stomach, but not because i had been struck multiple times in it. it was because i couldn’t bare the thought of not being with you on christmas day. your tears were sewn into my memory, and i just couldn’t handle it.” he chokes out, huddling closer to you in a seek of comfort.

“it’s okay chifuyu, i forgive you.” you coo, his face was beaten to shit, but chifuyu could never not be adorable to you.

you were just happy to have your boyfriend in your arms once more.

in the distance, giggling can be heard from your mother as your father watches the interaction.

“i don’t know why you even tried breaking them up, don’t you see how whipped (Y/N) is for the kid? they do everything together. chifuyu has stayed over multiple times and had dinner with us so much i’m surprised he hasn’t pre-proposed.” she laughs.

“i guess i’ll take that hit. in my defense though, that kid only seems to come over when i’m not around!” your father complains, however your mother just holds his face.

“well, after these past few days i wouldn’t blame him if he avoids you all together.”

[aynavaano]

Sweet Treats

Kinktober '24 - size kink/praise kink

Wrecker× F!reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 7.5k whoops this was meant to be short

Summary: You're living on Pabu and can’t keep your eyes off Wrecker since he arrived. You’re a bit shy but you got the notice that you can move back into your rebuilt house in Lower Pabu so you ask him if he could help you moving.

Notes: Whoha, that was a long unintentional break. A few of my scripts for Kinktober were a lot longer than what I usually write and editing them kinda overwhelmed me. Then when I realized I was behind my self imposed schedule, I kind of beat myself up for it and abandoned all the fics. I didn’t allow myself to write something new cause I had a bad conscience, I felt like I had to finish the Kinktober fics and the asks before I deserved to write something new. I felt like I had failed and didn’t want to look back and it took all my joy of writing. But over the holidays I read through some of the scripts, realized that some of them were good and deserved to be finished. Also the world is a cruel place and we all deserve a bit of unhinged smut with our favorite clones to brighten the mood. So I guess we’re doing Kinkanuary now?! The first script that I finished was Wrecker and while it was obvious to pair him with a reader that has an undiscovered size kink it is important for me to add that he is so much more than just his size and I hope I managed to write it like that. Also I thought he deserved a girl that is good at baking, so reader is a baker on Pabu. As far as tags go we have: mutual attraction, idiots to lovers kind of, oral f! and m! receiving, vag.fingering, vag.penetration, wrecker has a big dick and we all know it, reader maybe enjoys choking on his cock a litte, mutual size kink, praise, lots of praise, Wrecker talks you through it, he’s the praise king, you can’t change my mind. Also no beta, otherwise these longer fics would never see the light of day.

You first noticed Wrecker the day after he and his family had arrived on Pabu. His sheer size made him impossible to miss, but it was his laugh that caught your attention—deep and warm, like the comforting roll of distant thunder. You were setting up your stall at the market that morning, arranging fresh loaves of bread and pastries on wooden trays, when his booming voice echoed across the square.

At first, it was hard not to admire him from afar. Wrecker had a way of filling a space—not just with his size, but with his energy. Whether he was hauling crates of supplies or chatting with the locals, there was an openness to him, a joy that made him stand out. Everything about him exuded warmth and strength—from the way he carried children on his shoulders to how he lit up the room with smiles and his easy humor. It was hard to believe someone that enormous could be so gentle, but Wrecker was all contradictions, and that only added to his charm.

You’d caught yourself staring more than once, your hands dusted with flour as you pretended to be busy with your goods.

The first time he approached your stall, he was grinning from ear to ear, his broad shoulders nearly blocking out the sunlight.

“Wow, that smells incredible,” he’d said, leaning in to inspect your display.

You’d smiled nervously, brushing off a bit of flour from your apron.

“Thanks. Anything catch your eye?”

“All of it,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth, y’know. What d’you recommend?”

That first exchange turned into many. Wrecker became a regular at your stall, always stopping by to buy something and chat. Sometimes, he’d stay longer than necessary, munching on a pastry while leaning casually against your counter.

“Y’know,” he said one day, his mouth half-full of a jogan bun, “you’ve got magic hands to make something this good. Ever thought of teaching someone?”

You’d laughed, shaking your head. “Not sure you’d want to learn—kneading dough isn’t as exciting as whatever you get up to with your brothers.”

He grinned.

“Hey, don’t knock it. Bet I’d be pretty good at it. Got the muscles for it, after all.”

You couldn’t deny the way his easy compliments and lingering glances made your heart race. There was something about the way he looked at you, his warm brown eyes soft and inviting, that made you feel special. But no matter how many times he came by, no matter how often he found reasons to linger, he never asked you out.

And you, a bit shy and unsure, didn’t dare make the first move either. So you stayed in this quiet, unspoken dance of stolen glances and friendly conversations, savoring the moments you got to spend with him and wondering if he felt the same pull.

But you often caught yourself daydreaming about him when you saw him around town or relaxing at the beach, how it would be to be held by him, how easily he could just scoop you up and carry you around, how it would feel to cuddle against his broad chest, how safe and loved you would feel in his arms.

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

The late afternoon sun bathed Pabu in golden hues today, and the warm breeze carried the scent of the sea up into the town. Despite the sun slowly setting, it was still hot, and you started packing up your stall. As always, all your cakes and cookies were sold, but packing up took longer than usual because you were distracted.

You’d caught a glimpse of him on the on the other side of the town square—Wrecker, unmistakable, towering over the others at the bustling marketplace. His boisterous laugh echoed as he navigated the narrow stalls, his broad shoulders making him stand out no matter where he went.

It was Taungsday market, and he always came to your stall on Taungsday. But today you had almost given up hope. You glanced down at the small box you’d tucked carefully behind the counter. Inside was a meiloorun cookie, Wrecker’s favorite. You’d saved it for him, just in case.

As you started loading the last of your trays into the cart, you heard that familiar laugh. Your heart leapt, and you turned to see him striding toward you, his grin wide as ever.

“Hey!” Wrecker called out, his deep voice carrying easily over the market noise. “Almost thought I’d missed ya!”

You smiled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“I thought you had, too but I saved something for you.”

His eyes lit up as you reached for the box, handing it to him with a shy smile. “One meiloorun cookie, just for you.”

He took the box, opening it with the excitement of a child.

“Aw, you remembered! Thought I was too late, been busy helpin’ out with the building of the new communal space.You’re the best, y’know that?”

He popped the cookie into his mouth, groaning appreciatively.

“Perfect, as always.”

The compliment made your cheeks warm, and you busied yourself with stacking empty crates to hide your nerves.

“I’m glad you like it.”

Wrecker noticed your cart piled high with boxes and trays.

“Need a hand with all this? Looks like a lot for one person.”

You hesitated for a moment, then decided to take a leap of courage.

“Nothing I can’t handle here, all the boxes are empty, but actually, I was going to ask if you could help me with some heavy lifting later.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Oh yeah? What kinda heavy lifting?”

“Well…” You glanced down, suddenly unsure how to phrase it.

“My house in lower Pabu—it’s finally been rebuilt after the sea surge. I just got the notification that I can move back in a few days ago, I’ve already brought some stuff over but I’ve got some furniture and boxes I can’t manage on my own.”

Wrecker beamed, his broad smile making your nerves melt away.

“Course I’ll help! Wouldn’t leave ya to handle that alone. When d’you need me?”

“Tonight, if you’re free?” you asked, trying not to sound too eager.

“Tonight works,” he said with an enthusiastic nod.

“Tell ya what—I’ll help you load up here, then I’ll get the fish to Hunter real quick and I’ll head over to your place. Deal?”

You couldn’t help but smile at his generosity.

“Deal. Thank you, Wrecker.”

He picked up two of your heaviest boxes like they weighed nothing, his muscles flexing under the strain.

“No big deal,” he said, winking at you. “Anything for my favorite baker.”

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

The small apartment had grown unbearably hot as the afternoon wore on, boxes stacked high against the walls, and the thought of finally spending time alone with Wrecker filled you with a nervous excitement. You smoothed your hands over your tunic, glancing at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time. Any minute now, he’d be here.

You’d been thinking about him all afternoon, replaying your conversation from the market in your head. He’d made you promise to teach him baking once you had your bigger kitchen back, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been teasing or if he really meant it. The way his grin had softened as he spoke to you, the way his golden eyes held yours just a little too long—it was enough to leave your chest fluttering.

A heavy knock at the door snapped you out of your thoughts, and you scrambled to answer it, heart racing.

When you opened the door, there he was. Wrecker’s broad frame filled the doorway, the last light of the day casting over his shoulders. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt again, and the sight of his muscular arms had you biting the inside of your cheek to keep from staring.

“Hey,” he said, his deep voice warm and cheerful. “You all ready for me to get you movin’?”

You nodded quickly, stepping aside to let him in.

“Yeah, almost everything’s packed. It’s just the big stuff now. Thanks for coming.”

He gave you a lopsided grin, shrugging easily.

“Course. Gotta make sure you’re all set up for bakin’. Besides,” he added, rubbing the back of his neck, “I like being around and helpin’ you out.”

That made your breath catch, and you busied yourself with stacking some smaller boxes to cover your flustered reaction.

“Well, I appreciate it. Especially since the couch is going to be a nightmare to move but it’s the only piece of furniture I could salvage after the surge so I don’t want to give up on it.”

Wrecker chuckled as he surveyed the space. “Couch, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.”

As he started lifting boxes onto the heavy-load cart, you found yourself sneaking glances at him. The way his muscles flexed with every movement, the easy way he handled the heaviest loads—it left you a little breathless. When the last box was stacked, all that remained was your old, oversized sofa, with it’s wild mix of colorful cushions, many of which you had made.

“Guess it’s just this beast left,” Wrecker said, turning to you with a playful grin.

“Yeah,” you said, fidgeting with your hands. “I’ve been dreading moving it. It’s so heavy.”

“Ah, not for me,” he said confidently, stepping over to it and giving the armrest an experimental tug. Then he paused, glancing back at you with a sly grin.

“You’ll still teach me bakin’, right? Once you’ve got that big ol’ kitchen?”

His question caught you off guard, and you blinked at him. “You really want me to teach you?”

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck again, his grin softening. “I think it’d be fun. You’re good at it, and I… y’know, I like watchin’ you do somethin’ you’re good at, spendin’ some time with you.”

Your heart skipped, and you felt your cheeks heat. “I—yeah. I’d like that.”

Wrecker’s grin widened, and he turned back to the couch with renewed enthusiasm.

“Alright, let’s get this thing outta here, then.”

He braced his massive hands under the couch, muscles rippling as he hoisted it up like it weighed nothing. Your jaw dropped slightly, watching the ease with which he maneuvered it toward the door.

“Maker,” you muttered under your breath, eyes trailing over his biceps and broad chest.

Wrecker paused, tilting his head toward you with a crooked grin.

“What’s that? Did you say somethin’?”

You shook your head quickly, heat rising to your cheeks.

“No! Just, uh… impressed, that’s all.”

He turned fully to face you, the couch still balanced effortlessly in his arms, and his grin widened.

“Impressed, huh? ”

Setting the couch down gently, he stepped closer, his golden brown eyes glinting with mischief. He towered over you, his presence filling the room as his grin softened.

“You’re blushin’,” he teased, his voice dropping an octave.

“I am not,” you shot back, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

“You’re cute when you try to deny it,” he murmured, his gaze locking with yours.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you forgot all about the move, your world narrowing to the warmth of his smile and the steady confidence in his voice. Wrecker had a way of making you feel seen, you couldn’t tear your gaze away from his soft lips and as he leaned down just slightly, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking the same thing you were.

His gaze didn’t waver as he studied your face, a mix of amusement and something softer in his golden eyes. The room felt impossibly warm, and your heartbeat was echoing loudly in your ears.

“Y’know,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost shy, “I’ve been wantin’ to spend more time with you. Not just like this—helpin’ out and all. But, uh, I didn’t know if you’d want that.”

Your breath caught. “You… really?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, his grin softening into something more tentative.

“I mean, you’re always real nice to me, and Hunter said he thinks you like me but I figured maybe you’d think I’m… too much or somethin’. Big guy like me, not exactly subtle.”

You shook your head quickly, your words tumbling out before you could stop them.

“Wrecker, you’re amazing. You’re sweet and funny, and you’ve been so kind to me. Honestly, I’ve been hoping you’d…” You trailed off, suddenly unsure how to finish.

“Hoping I’d what?” he asked, his voice low and full of curiosity.

You bit your lip, gathering your courage.

“Hoping you’d ask me out.”

Wrecker’s eyes widened slightly before his face broke into a wide, toothy smile that made your knees weak.

“Well, why didn’t ya just say so?”

“I don’t know,” you laughed nervously, “I guess I didn’t want to make things awkward.”

He let out a soft chuckle, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck.

“Awkward? Nah. I like ya, and I’ve been thinkin’ about askin’ ya for a while. Guess I was just nervous too.”

The thought of Wrecker—this towering, confident, wonderful man—being nervous to talk to you was almost too much to believe. You smiled, feeling your chest warm at his words.

“Wrecker…” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?” His voice was a low rumble now, and the intensity of his gaze made you feel like the only person in the galaxy.

“I guess I’ll have to take the first step, then.” you said softly, meeting his gaze.

Before he could respond, you leaned up on your toes and pressed a quick, tentative kiss to his cheek. His skin was warm, the scar slightly rough under your lips, and you pulled back just enough to gauge his reaction.

Wrecker looked at you startled for a split second, then he leaned down and captured your lips with his. His mouth was warm, firm but gentle, and he tilted his head just enough to deepen the kiss. The world around you disappeared as you melted against him, your hands instinctively reaching up to grasp his broad shoulders.

The kiss quickly turned more heated, his massive hands finding your waist, pulling you flush against his body. You could feel the solid wall of his chest against you, the strength in his arms as he held you close. His tongue brushed against your bottom lip, seeking entry, and you gasped, allowing him to taste you fully.

"Maker," he groaned against your mouth, his voice rough and husky, "feels so good."

Your fingers dug into his shoulders as his hands roamed lower, resting on your hips and pulling you against him in a way that made your knees go weak. His sheer size, the way he enveloped you so completely, had your mind spinning.

"Wrecker," you breathed, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. His golden eyes burned with heat, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss.

You could feel the sheer power in his grip, restrained but ever-present, and it made heat pool low in your belly.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice softer now, concern flickering through the intensity in his gaze.

"Better than alright," you murmured, running your hands over his shoulders, down his chest, marveling at the sheer size and warmth of him. Your fingers trailed lower, brushing over the hard planes of his abdomen, and you felt him shiver under your touch.

"Careful," he said, his tone half-teasing, half-warning.

"You keep doin' that, and I might not be able to stop."

"Maybe I don't want you to," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes darkened, and his grip on your waist tightened slightly.

"You sure about that? Don’t want me to take you out for dinner or somethin’ first?."

You shook your head, your breath catching as his gaze flicked back to your lips.

"I'm sure."

With a growl that sent shivers down your spine, Wrecker kissed you again, harder this time, his hands sliding lower to lift you effortlessly into his arms.

The strength in his grip made your stomach flip as he carried you toward the couch he had just moved and abandoned next to the door, laying you down gently before hovering over you, his hands braced on either side of your head and his massive frame blocking out the rest of the room.

"Tell me if you want me to stop, ya ?" he asked, his voice softer now, his concern evident despite the heat in his gaze.

“Yes," you said without hesitation. The way he said it with so much affection made your pussy throb and you had to press your thighs together for some desperate needed friction.

His grin turned feral, and he leaned down to press another kiss to your lips, this one deeper, hungrier. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve with a reverence that made your heart ache.

"Gonna have to be real careful with you," he murmured against your lips. "Don't wanna break my pretty little thing."

The thought made your core clench, and you arched into him, your hands tangling in his shirt as you pulled him closer. You’d spend too many nights hot and bothered plagued by dreams of him touching you, making you feel good only to wake up feeling needy and empty. Getting yourself off hasn’t helped much, sometimes made things worse, it was him that you wanted. Now that you had him so close to where you wanted him, the last thing you needed was him to be overly careful.

"Don't be too careful," you teased, your voice a mix of need bordering on desperation.

Wrecker chuckled, the sound low and delicious.

"Careful, sweetheart. Keep talkin' like that, and I might forget my own strength."

His kisses trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp. He pulled back briefly, his gaze raking over you with such intensity that you felt like you were being consumed.

"Take this off for me?," he said, tugging at your tunic.

You complied quickly, your fingers trembling as you pulled it over your head. Wrecker's breath hitched as his eyes roved over your bare skin.

"Perfect," he said, his voice reverent.

His hands followed his gaze, calloused fingers brushing over your breasts, your hips, and finally settling on your thighs. He knelt in front of you, his massive frame making you feel even smaller.

"You're gonna let me take my time with you, aren't you?" he asked, his hands sliding up your legs.

"Yes," you breathed. "Please."

"Good girl," he said, and the words sent a shiver down your spine.

Wrecker's hands slipped under the waistband of your shorts, pulling them and your underwear down in one smooth motion. His touch lingered on your thighs, the heat of his palms searing into your skin. He let out a low, appreciative hum as he took in the sight of you.

"You're so pretty, even prettier than I’ve imagined" he said, his voice soft but filled with a hunger that made your cheeks flush.

"Gotta admit, I've been thinkin' about this for a while."

He leaned back, his hands working at the hem of his shirt. When he pulled it over his head, your breath caught in your throat. His broad chest and shoulders were a sight to behold —muscle stacked on muscle, his skin marked with faint scars that only added to his rugged appeal and a dusting of dark hair covered his chest, trailing down in a line that disappeared beneath his waistband.

Your gaze lingered on his powerful arms, his biceps flexing slightly as he tossed the shirt aside. You‘d seen him on the beach but to have him so close was different. You couldn't resist reaching out, your fingers brushing over the hard planes of his chest. His skin was warm, firm beneath your touch, and the contrast between his sheer size and your smaller hand was intoxicating.

"Maker," you murmured, your fingers tracing the line of his pecs and down to his stomach.

"You're incredible."

Wrecker grinned, his golden eyes alight with a mix of pride and amusement.

"You like what you see, huh?"

"Very much," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitantly let your hand trail through the dusting of soft curly hair and over the big scar that went across his whole chest, that seemed fairly new as it was still raised and had a pinkish glow.

„Had to fight a Dryax to get that, when we rescued ’mega“ he said with a sheepish grin.

His large hand wrapped around yours, guiding it lower, letting you feel the strength in his abdomen and then further to the huge bulge in his pants.

“Look what you’re doin’ to me” he said enjoying the look on your face “but first, I’m goin’ to take real good care of you if you let me”

Your fingers brushed over the thick, firm ridge straining against his pants, and you couldn't stop the shiver that ran through you. He was so wide, the sheer girth of him making your hand feel small as you tried to take in the size of him. The light linen fabric did little to hide the heaviness beneath, and your fingers traced along the outline, marveling at how impossibly thick he felt.

A surge of heat pooled low in your belly, the wetness between your thighs growing as you imagined what it would feel like to have him stretch you open. The weight of his cock, the thickness pressing against your palm, made your pulse race, every nerve in your body thrumming with anticipation. This was even better than your dreams.

Unable to form coherent words you nodded.

Wrecker leaned back over you, his hand cupping your face again while his other slid down your body, giving one of your nipples an experimental pinch and then lower between your thighs. His fingers, thick and calloused, parted your folds with surprising gentleness. He groaned as he found how wet you already were, his thumb brushing over your clit.

"Look at you," he murmured. "So soft, so ready. That's all for me, isn't it?"

"Yes," you gasped, your hips bucking slightly into his hand.

"Thought so," he said, his voice thick with pride.

After a few slow rubs over your clit he slipped one finger inside you, the thickness making you moan. He worked it slowly, his thumb circling your clit in tandem.

"Feel so tight around just one," he murmured, almost to himself. "Gonna have to relax you real good before you’re gonna be able to take all of me, sweetheart."

You whimpered, your hands gripping his shoulders as he added a second finger, stretching you even more. The delicious burn made your toes curl, and you couldn't stop the broken sounds spilling from your lips. You’d have to apologize to your neighbors tomorrow and hopefully not for the last time, but nothing a good cake couldn’t fix.

"Look at you, takin' my fingers so well," Wrecker praised, his thumb pressing down just enough on your clit to send sparks of pleasure through your body. He trailed kisses down your neck until he reached your breasts and let his tongue swirl around your nipples.

"Such a good girl."

"Wrecker," you moaned, your head falling back against the couch.

"That's it," he said, his fingers curling to hit that perfect spot inside you.

"Let me hear you, sweetheart. Don't hold back."

The pressure built quickly, your body arching into his hand as he worked you with a focus that made your head spin. When you finally came, it hit you hard, a wave of pleasure that left you gasping for breath.

Wrecker groaned as your walls pulsed around his fingers, his hand slowing but not stopping as he drew out every bit of your release.

"Beautiful," he said, his voice filled with awe. "You're so beautiful when you come."

He pulled his fingers from you slowly, bringing them to his lips. He sucked them clean, his golden eyes locked on yours as he did. The sight sent a fresh wave of arousal through you, leaving you aching for more.

"And you taste even better than I imagined," he said, his voice a low rumble.

"Wrecker," you said, reaching out for the bulge in his pants, your voice shaky but filled with need. "I want all of you."

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you, his lips claiming yours with a possessiveness that made your heart race.

"Oh, sweetheart," he said against your lips, his voice low and rough. "You'll have all of me. Just hold on tight."

Wrecker leaned back, his massive frame towering over you. He pulled his pants down, his thick, hard length springing free. You couldn't help but gasp at the sheer size of him, your eyes widened in shock as they took him in.

"You okay, sweetheart? We…eh…we don’t have to…you know," Wrecker asked softly, his hand cupping your cheek.

The gentleness in his voice was such a stark contrast to his overwhelming size that it made your heart ache in the best way.

His cock, already fully hard, rested against his stomach, thick and heavy. You couldn't help but stare for a moment longer, your mouth going dry at the sight of him. He was enormous-more than you'd ever taken before-but the challenge sent a fresh pulse of heat through your core.

You slid off the sofa onto your knees right before him.

"What're you doin', sweetheart?" His voice was deep, a little rough, but the warmth in it softened the question.

You didn't answer right away, your hand trailing down to wrap around his shaft. Or at least, as much of it as you could manage-your fingers couldn't even close around him.

Wrecker sucked in a sharp breath at your touch, his head tipping back slightly.

"Maker, you don't have to _"

"I want to," you interrupted, your voice soft but firm.

"I want to make you feel good too, Wrecker."

The golden warmth in his eyes softened even more.

"Alright, sweetheart. But don't push yourself, yeah? Just... take your time."

You nodded and leaned forward, pressing an experimental kiss to his flushed, leaking tip. His cock twitched in your hand, and he groaned low in his throat. Emboldened, you parted your lips, licking gently along the sensitive head before wrapping your mouth around him.

The stretch was intense-almost too much. Your jaw ached immediately, and you could barely take his tip. Even then, it felt like your mouth was impossibly full.

Your tongue swirled tentatively against him as you tried to adjust to his size.

"That's it, just like that," Wrecker murmured, his voice thick with pleasure. He cradled your cheek in his big hand, his thumb brushing softly against your skin.

You bobbed your head slightly, taking him a little deeper. But it was no use. The moment he hit the back of your throat, you gagged, pulling back quickly with a gasping breath. Drool slipped from the corner of your lips, trailing down your chin as you stared up at him apologetically.

"Hey, hey," he said immediately, his thumb wiping away the spit on your face. "You alright?"

You nodded, though your chest still heaved as you caught your breath. But despite your struggles, almost choking on his cock was incredibly hot in a filthy way you hadn‘t know you had in you.

"I'm okay," you rasped, your voice rough. Then, with a small smile, you added,

"You're just so... big, but I like it. A lot."

Wrecker chuckled, the sound low and affectionate.

“You’re not just sayin’ that, right? I don’t wanna hurt you.” he teased gently, though his concern remained clear in his eyes.

“No, really, I like it” you assured him.

"Don't push yourself, sweetheart. Just do what feels good for you."

Determined, you tried again, focusing on his tip and swirling your tongue around the sensitive ridge. Your hand worked his shaft, stroking what you couldn't fit in your mouth, and you tried to relax your throat as you took him deeper.

But it was impossible. He was too thick, too long.

Every time you tried to take more, you felt like you were going to choke. Instead, you focused on his tip, sucking and licking at him while your hand squeezed him firmly at the base.

"That's it," Wrecker groaned, his voice growing rougher. "You're doin' so good, sweetheart. Feels... stars, feels incredible."

His words spurred you on, and you worked him with more determination, drool slipping freely from your lips as you hollowed your cheeks. The taste of him, salty and heady, made your thighs clench together.

"You're somethin' else," he murmured, his big hand smoothing over your hair. "So sweet, so pretty with my cock in your mouth. Maker, you're perfect."

Your cheeks burned at his praise, but the heat only drove you further. You wanted to make him come undone. But as you tried to take him deeper again, you gagged once more, your hands trembling as you pulled back, gasping for air, but the throbbing between your legs betrayed you.

Wrecker's hands were on you in an instant, pulling you up into his arms and cradling you like you weighed nothing.

"That's enough," he said softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Don't push yourself, sweetheart. You're already drivin' me crazy."

"But I didn't-" you started to protest, but Wrecker silenced you with another kiss, this one slow and deep.

"Don't need anything else, sweetheart," he murmured against your lips. "Just you. Always just you."

His hands roamed down to your hips, his strong fingers kneading your skin. You could feel him pressed against your stomach, hot and heavy, and a thrill shot through you at the thought of taking him inside you.

"Let me," you whispered, your fingers trailing down his chest to the line of dark hair that went down over his abs.

"I want you, Wrecker. Please."

His golden eyes darkened, his breath hitching as he studied your face.

"Are you sure?"

You nodded, your lips curving into a small smile.

"I've never been more sure. I want to feel you inside me."

With a low groan, he lifted you effortlessly and carefully placed you on the sofa, lining you up with his cock. The tip nudged against your entrance, and you shivered as the thick head stretched you open. The sensation was overwhelming, but the way he held you, the way he looked at you, made you feel safe.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmured, his voice soft and steady as he lowered you slowly onto him.

"Don't wanna hurt you, sweetheart."

"I will," you promised, gripping his shoulders for support.

Wrecker eased forward, the thick head of his cock slowly breaching you further. The stretch was intense, a mix of pain and pleasure that made you gasp. He froze immediately, his brows furrowing with concern.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

"Yes," you assured him, your voice breathy. "Just... give me a second."

He nodded, his hands resting on your hips, holding you steady.

"Take your time, sweetheart. No rush."

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to relax around him. After a moment, you nodded, and he pushed in a little more, barely an inch, before stopping again.

"Maker," he groaned, his head falling back as he tried to keep still. "You're so soft and warm. Feels incredible."

You whimpered, the sound making his grip on your hips tighten slightly. "Wrecker, feels so-"

"Tight?" he interrupted with a teasing grin, his voice laced with pride. "Yeah, I know. That's why I'm bein' real careful with ya."

The burning of the stretch was so intense, pleasure mixed with pain but the pleasure was slowly taking over and you couldn't help but whimper softly, your forehead resting against his shoulder.

"You're perfect, it’s okay if you can’t take all of it" he said, kissing you softly.

After a few more moments of slow, shallow movements that didn’t get him further, you looked up at him, determination flickering in your gaze.

"Let me get on top."

His eyes widened slightly.

"You sure? I don't wanna_"

"I'm sure," you said, cutting him off. "I know it’s gonna feel incredible, I can do it. Please."

Wrecker stared at you for a moment before nodding, shifting so he could help you switch positions. You straddled him, your knees pressing into the couch on either side of his massive thighs.

"Alright, sweetheart," he said, his hands settling on your hips.

"Take it slow. You're in control now."

You nodded, your hands braced against his chest as you began to sink down onto him. The angle was better, letting you take him a little more with each inch. His fingers flexed against your hips, his jaw clenching as he held himself back.

"Maker," he groaned, his head falling back against the couch.

"You're takin' me so well. Look at you, sweetheart."

You whimpered, the stretch almost too much, but the heat in his gaze spurred you on.

"So big, but feels so so good," you whined, your nails digging into his chest.

"You're doin' perfect," he murmured, his voice thick with awe. "Just look at how you're takin' me."

You tried to relax around him and let the weight of your body do the work. With a final push, you sank down completely, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as he filled you to the hilt. You could feel every inch of him, the sensation overwhelming but so good, unlike anything you had ever felt. You were sure if he hadn‘t made you come already you would have exploded into a thousand pieces then and there.

"Maker," Wrecker groaned, his hands gripping your waist tightly. "You did it. You're takin' all of me, sweetheart. Can't believe it."

You moaned breathlessly, your head falling forward as you tried to catch your breath.

"Told you I could."

He grinned up at you, his golden eyes shining with pride and affection.

"You're amazin'. Absolutely amazin!

You started to move, slow and careful, lifting yourself slightly before sinking back down. Each movement sent shivers of pleasure through both of you, and Wrecker's praise only made it better.

"That's it," he murmured. "You're so good to me, sweetheart. So damn good."

You rolled your hips slowly, letting Wrecker's thick cock stretch and fill you completely with every motion. The intensity of it all-his sheer size, the overwhelming fullness-had you gasping and moaning with each descent. His big hands never left your waist, steadying you as you moved, but he didn't push, letting you set the pace.

"You feel so good, sweetheart," he rasped, his voice low and thick with need. "So tight around me. Maker, it's almost too much."

"It's intense," you admitted, your voice shaky as you braced your hands against his chest for leverage.

"You're so big, Wrecker. It's-" You broke off with a gasp as you sank down again, taking him fully. "Kriff, it's so good."

His golden eyes were fixed on where your bodies joined, his pupils blown wide with lust.

"Look at you, takin' all of me," he murmured, almost in awe. "You're perfect, sweetheart. Absolutely perfect."

You whimpered at his praise, the heat in his gaze sending a rush of pleasure straight to your core. The stretch was so intense, so delicious, that every movement sent sparks of pleasure skittering through your body. But as you started to slow, your thighs burning from the effort, Wrecker chuckled softly, his hands tightening on your hips.

"Let me help you," he said, his voice gentle despite the hunger in his tone.

Before you could protest, he easily lifted you, his strength effortless as he guided your movements. He raised you off of him slightly, then lowered you back down, filling you again and again with his thick cock. The sensation was overwhelming, the way he controlled your movements perfectly timed to hit every sensitive spot inside you.

"Wrecker," you gasped, your fingers digging into his chest as pleasure built inside you.

"That's it, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a deep rumble.

"Let me take care of you. You're so good for me. Feels so good, havin' you like this."

The rhythm he set was steady but deep, each thrust making you cry out as the intensity grew. His cock stretched you in ways you'd never felt before, every inch of him filling you completely. You couldn't think, couldn't speak, lost in the overwhelming pleasure of him. All you could get out were pathetic whines.

"You're amazin"" he said, his golden eyes locked on yours. "Can't believe you're mine right now."

"Wrecker," you moaned, your voice breaking as the tension inside you reached its peak. "I'm so close-"

"I've got you," he promised, lifting you one more time before slamming you down fully, his cock pressing against your cervix, holding you there as you came undone around him.

Your climax hit hard, for a moment everything was dull before you slammed back into your body clenching around him as waves of pleasure rippled through you.

"Maker," he groaned, his grip on your waist tightening as your release triggered his own. He thrust up into you one last time, his cock pulsing as he spilled inside you.

You collapsed against his chest, your body trembling as you tried to catch your breath. His hands moved to your back, holding you close as his broad chest rose and fell beneath you.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his voice full of concern despite the hoarseness from his release. “Didn’t hurt you?”

You nodded, your cheek pressed to his chest.

"More than okay."

Wrecker shifted slightly, still buried inside you, his warmth filling you completely. He seemed hesitant, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back as he searched for the right words.

"Listen, uh..." He cleared his throat, his deep voice unusually tentative.

"I, uh, I really like ya, don't want this to just be... y'know, a one-time thing."

You lifted your head to look at him, his golden eyes avoiding yours for a moment before he finally met your gaze.

"I've never really had somethin' like this," he admitted, his voice softer now. "Never had the chance durin' the war. But I want it, with you. I don't just wanna fool around. I want... more."

Your heart swelled at his words, the vulnerability in his usually confident demeanor making you fall for him even more. You cupped his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek.

"I want more too," you said softly, your voice filled with sincerity.

Relief washed over his face, and he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you tightly.

"Good," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your lips.

''Cause I'm not lettin' you go now."

He shifted beneath you, his strong arms wrapping around you as he pulled you closer to his chest, his cock slipped out of you and with it a rush of your mixed juices. For a moment, you thought you could stay like this forever. Completely blissed out, safe in his arms, your head resting on his chest and his cum trickling out of you.

You basked in the afterglow of your lovemaking for a little longer, but then he softly tilted your chin up to make you look at him and chuckled softly.

"As much as I like havin' you on me, sweetheart," he said, his voice still deep and husky from earlier, "we're both a bit of a mess. How about we clean up?"

You hummed in agreement, still half-lost in the warmth of his embrace.

"You mean you don't want to sit here sticky all night?"

He laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest.

"As temptin' as that is, nah. C'mon, I'll help."

Before you could protest, he effortlessly scooped you up, cradling you against his broad chest as he stood. His strength still amazed you, the ease with which he handled you making your cheeks flush.

"You didn't have to carry me," you said, though you couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips.

"Maybe I like carryin' you," he replied simply, his golden eyes meeting yours with a fondness that made your stomach flip.

He carried you into the bathroom, setting you down gently before starting the shower. As the water warmed, he turned back to you, his hands sliding up to carefully unclip the claw that held up your hair and set it aside.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his gaze roaming over you with unguarded affection.

You felt your cheeks heat at his words but didn't have time to dwell on it before he stepped under the spray with you, pulling you close again. The warm water cascaded over both of you, washing away the evidence of your earlier passion.

Wrecker's hands were surprisingly gentle as he lathered soap over your skin, taking his time as he worked. He made sure to check in with you, brushing his lips against your temple as he asked,

"This okay, sweetheart?"

"More than okay," you whispered, leaning into his touch.

When you returned the favor, your hands roamed over his muscular chest, tracing the lines of his scars and the soft trail of hair leading down his stomach. You allowed yourself to look at him openly, instead of just stealing glances. His tattoos caught the light, drawing your attention, and you couldn't resist brushing your fingers over one.

"Like what you see?" he teased, his grin widening when you bit your lip and nodded.

"You're gorgeous, Wrecker," you admitted, feeling your heart swell as he leaned down to kiss you, the water cascading over you both.

You both stepped out of the shower, the cool evening breeze brushing over your damp skin as you padded across the organized rows of neatly labeled boxes that Wrecker had stacked earlier. The faint scent of soap lingered between you, and the soft light in the room made everything feel warm and intimate. You opened a box marked linens and found a towel, wrapping it snugly around yourself before handing another to Wrecker. He grinned, his eyes lingering on you as he rubbed the towel over his broad chest and shoulders, water droplets glistening against his tanned skin.

Digging into another box labeled clothes, you pulled out an oversized shirt and shorts for yourself, slipping them on quickly as Wrecker stood there, still completely at ease in his nudity. His gaze softened as he reached for your hand, pulling you closer.

“You look happy,” he murmured, his thumb brushing along your knuckles.

Your heart fluttered as you tilted your head up, your damp hair sticking to your cheek. Wrecker leaned down, his lips brushing yours in a sweet, lingering kiss. It wasn’t rushed, just full of quiet affection that made your chest ache in the best way. You smiled against his lips, your hands resting lightly on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips.

"So, uh, I’m kinda hungry, I was thinkin'.." he began, his tone a little hesitant, "how'd you feel about dinner? With my family, I mean. We can eat and you can stay with me and then we get you movin’ first thing in the morning?"

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. "Dinner with your family?"

"Yeah," he said, his golden eyes flicking to yours.

"Hunter's probably cookin' the fish me and Cross caught today, and Omega's always wantin' to meet new friends. I think they'd love you. I mean, who wouldn't?"

Your chest filled with warmth, the sincerity in his voice making you smile.

"I'd love to, Wrecker."

His face lit up with the biggest, most genuine smile you'd ever seen, his happiness contagious.

"Really? You mean it?"

You nodded, brushing a hand over his cheek. "Of course."

He let out a laugh, spinning you around once in his excitement before settling you back against his chest.

"You've just made me the happiest man on Pabu," he said, his voice full of joy.

[duskvsdawn]

Hihihiihi may I request number 8 with Shu helping her study for an important exam before lazying around? I have ACT exams tomorrow (not prepared for geometry) and I find comfort in your writing it is amazing! 🙏🥹

≫ A/N: Hi sweetheart! Sorry I couldn't get this done before your exams. I hope they went well! Been kinda overwhelmed with stuff but I did manage to finish it in the end! I hope you enjoy! ❤

CW: nothing really, this is just sweet and Shu helps you as much as he can and then the both of you relax around the house, the studying turned out super general because I know literally nothing about geometry and all other school knowledge left me I'm sorryyyyyy, Shu gives reader a massage to help her sleep because stress is eating away at her

Art credits.

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Let's study first, then we chill

Shu had been helping you study for the past week or so. Your exams were coming up, and you were struggling so hard to remember things. Shu is such a smart man, however, and is here to help you. It's so lovely to have such a charming, sweet, loving and smart boyfriend. He did some practice tests with you and helped you come up with mnemonics. You were very thankful for his help. During the breaks you took, you would either eat takeout or cook together, watch your favourite series at the moment, do some singing or take a walk in the lovely spring weather. As the two of you were on your walk, you decided to get some ice cream. It was quite warm for this time of year, and both of you were feeling like having a sweet treat. You shared your ice cream with each other after you had put some ice cream on his nose. He tried to lick it off with his tongue, but he failed miserably, which made you laugh quite a bit.

But you knew this couldn't last forever. Your exams started tomorrow and you wanted to do some more practicing. When you got home, you nestled on your boyfriend's lap like you had been doing for a large part of the week, and you got back to studying. His head was leaning on your shoulder as one arm was wrapped around you, and the other hand was holding a pen to write some things down for you to make stuff seem a little bit easier. After some explaining, your boyfriend decided to check on you.

"So if you combine these two..." your boyfriend said as he connected some things on your notepad in front of you, "you get this. Do you get it now?" he asked you as he put his hand over yours that was gripping the pen so tightly. "Uhm, I think so? And if you change this... to this..." you said as you also made some marks on your paper, "you get this, right?" you asked with a lot of doubt in your voice. You were convinced you didn't get it right, but you instantly calmed down when your boyfriend said: "That's right! See? I knew you would get it after some practice! I am so proud of you, babe." Your boyfriend said as he kissed your cheek. A sigh of relief left your mouth. You were feeling much more prepared now. You decided to do one more practice quiz, and you did quite well on it, so your boyfriend was confident you would be just fine. After the quiz, he decided you had done plenty for the day, and it was time to do some chilling around the house. He suggested that the two of you heat up some leftover takeout from yesterday and continue watching this series you liked so much.

While you sat down on the couch and wrapped yourself in your blanket, you were ready to start the series when your boyfriend returned with the reheated dinner. When your boyfriend came back, you pressed 'play' and the two of you were intently staring at the tv as one of the characters you liked got murdered. "Ahhwww nooooo! I liked him so much! I am not sure if I'm angry or sad," you said with a pout as you looked at your boyfriend after the episode had finished. "Yeah, it really is a shame to be honest. But honestly, part of me knew it was gonna happen. He wasn't liked very much," your boyfriend replied as he put his head on your shoulder. "Yeah, I'm afraid you're right. Oh god, look at the clock, Shu! We've been watching for way too long again, we should head to bed!" you said as you jumped up, accidentally knocking Shu on his jaw with your shoulder, and he hissed in pain. "Shit, I'm so sorry Shu! I'm just so stressed and clumsy because of it." You apologised as you kneeled in front of the sorcerer to give him a kiss on his jaw. "It's ok, baby, it doesn't hurt that much, I promise. Now, let's get to bed, hm?"

The two of you went towards the bathroom to shower, brush your teeth and then you headed to bed. As you laid in bed, you were a shaky mess and you just laid awake for what felt like forever. Your boyfriend always fell asleep after you to make sure you slept well. He had noticed you were restless, constantly tossing and turning and he could practically hear the gears turning in your head as you were overthinking.

"Are you ok, babe? Do you want me to get you some hot tea so you can relax? Or would you maybe like a massage instead?" your boyfriend offered as he kissed your shoulder blade. "You know, a massage doesn't sound that bad. Would you do that for me, pretty please? I'm not sure I can sleep otherwise," you asked when you turnt around to face him. Your boyfriend thought it was a silly question. If he minded, why would he offer in the first place? "Of course, sweetheart. Lay on your stomach for me, okay?" he asks you.

You nod, take off your shirt and lay on your stomach after you move your boobs out of the way because every woman knows it hurts like hell to lay down on those. Your boyfriend sits down on your butt and starts massaging at your neck. He feels so many knots there, he can only imagine how much more there are everywhere else. As he starts focusing on the knots, moans of relief leave your throat. "Fuck, this is so relaxing..." you say as you fold your arms under your head. Your boyfriend starts focusing on your shoulder blades now, finding even more knots there and does his best to get those out too. More quiet moans coming from you, and Shu hates that it kinda does things to him. But that's an issue for another time. All that matters now is getting you to sleep as soon as possible.

Shu had been massaging you for a little while now, and he started noticing you were making less and less noises. At some point, he noticed you were completely quiet. He leaned over you to look at your face to see if you were okay. You were asleep, looking so peaceful and happy. Your boyfriend chuckled and moved next to you. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your shoulder blade once more. "Sleep well, baby. You will do just fine tomorrow, trust me," your boyfriend whispered as he left a kiss at the back of your neck.

[velvet-apricots]

Who is the best Demigod at sex? Who is the least skilled one? List them in order of skill increasing! (also you can exclude Miquella if you want, their age thing is complicated)

The demi-god that is the worst at sex is Morgott. He has never touched his dick, he has never looked at a person naked. he is so deeply ashamed of himself that he can not even stomach the though of himself having sex. Not only would his cursed seed be touching someone, the thought of reproducing and making more omens is just... yeah he's not fucking anything any time soon.

The second worse demi-god at sex is Messmer. Man has mommy issues up the wazzu. He is too obsessed with doing what his mommy wants to have time for anything sexual. And if he did fuck someone, he probably would break down crying because he's not felt a tender touch in so long that he would be overwhelmed. He is a soggy wet cat of a man who also happens to be a genocidal tyrant. he is better than Morgott because he probably has jerked off a few times, and he has enough game to pull the affection of ONE woman, who would die for him.

The third worst Demi-god at sex is a tie between Ranni and Malenia. Ranni was a turbo virgin obsessed with magic and breaking free of her fate. She had no time for anything like that. And when she does finally have time... She lost her body. The best she can give is a handjob or oral sex. And idk what her mouth or hands are made of so that might not be pleasant. Malenia on the other hand is literally walking around with scarlet rot. Even just serving her as a cleanrot knight is an assurance of getting infected. NOT ONLY THAT her genitals and many other places on her body have rotten away. Any chance she had at experiencing sex is kinda ruined now. Like if you fingered her and took time with it, sure she might get off on it, but she would rather just swing her sword around.

The most middleground Demi-god when it comes to sex is a tie between Godrick and Radahn. Like yeah Radahn can fuck you, and he's got a big dick, but he cares more about hitting things and being crazy horse girl than fucking things. I don't think he knows where the clitoris is. Godrick on the other hand has fucked at least once, if gostoc is his son. However he is so utterly repulsive that its not pleasant to have sex with him. He smells rancid.

The demi-god that is third best at sex is Godwyn. I headcanon that he had many lovers over the years and actually had a pretty strong linage made up of several sons and one daughter. He might have fucked a dragon too. IDK.

Second best at sex is a tie between Godfrey and Rykard. Godfrey was very passionately in love with Marika, but he had to learn how to have sex. That man was not a virgin by any means but he had no fucking idea how to make her cum. So she had to teach him. He eventually became quite good at it. Rykard has a wife, she is obsessed with him. They probably have really freaky sex. That instantly makes him second best.

The Demi-god that is the best at sex is Mohg. Like, there is no question it's Mohg. Dude is in a sadomasochistic cult built on fucked up love. He fucks and he fucks a lot. And unlike his brother, the thought of siring a load of omen kids makes him enthusiastic. YES. MORE CURSED BLOOD. YES. AHAHAHAHAHA!

I am not doing Miquella out of fear for my own safety.

[bucketslutz]

Don't Be Late, Chapter 6

(Professor!Logan Howlett x F!Student!Mutant!Reader)

Click here for chapter index.

Chapter Summary: The aftermath.

A/N: Hiiiii, im backkkkk!! sorry for the unintentional hiatus, this chapter took me ages to write. But i honestly feel really good about it! after i posted the last chapter, i was worried that i might've rushed the slow burn slightly, but i hope that this chapter puts things on the right path. enjoy!!!

Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, fingering, making out, grinding slightly, nightmares

Word Count: 6,844

Chapter 6

Eyes slowly blinking open, you register the faint sound of talking echoing throughout your house. You adjust to your surroundings, naked in your bed, claw marks in your mattress; the events of the night before come rushing back into your mind. Logan. The rain. Your powers—his powers. Oh god, what did you do? The bed’s cold. He must’ve already gone downstairs, his voice being the one you recognize carrying through the halls of your home. Is he embarrassed? Does he regret it? You can’t stew with these ideations all morning. Sitting up, you throw your feet off the side of the bed, slipping a robe on before descending down your stairs. You overhear the tail end of Logan’s conversation with someone you assume he’s talking on the phone with.

“I’m working on it—I gotta go,” he says quickly into the phone. You come upon his bare back as he stands in your kitchen, clad in nothing but his jeans from the night before. He turns around to face you, stuffing his phone in his pocket and offering you a tight-lipped smile. There’s an air of awkwardness hanging between you two, neither one sure of who should say something first. Should you go hug him? Give him a kiss good morning? Should you talk about it? 

“Still dunno what you did with my underwear,” he remarks dryly, breaking the silence. An awkward chuckle escapes your throat. You could still cut through the tension with a butter knife. An idea crosses your mind, an attempt to relieve the pressure that’s built in the room.

“I-uh, wait just a second,” you hold up a finger, crossing to your fridge. You had honestly forgotten that you kinda disintegrated his boxers last night. Typically, you don’t find yourself in this kind of situation—having to find a way to reconstruct an object for someone after taking it apart. You fish through your fridge for one of your protein shakes, exhaling a satisfied hum once you set your sights on the chocolate drink. Holding up a finger to Logan yet again, you chug the shake swiftly while he looks at you incredulously. 

“The hell are you—“ he starts, but he’s cut off when you manifest his boxers back on his body, Logan lowering the waistband of his pants to confirm that you did, in fact, do that.

“Sorry, powers use up a lot of calories,” you huff, panting from the drink you just downed in a few seconds.

“Oh.”

There’s more tension in the air. You wipe the chocolate off of your upper lip, wondering what he could possibly be thinking. He was so passionate last night, you would’ve never thought that he would say anything the way he did—never thought for even a second that he even felt that way about you.  It was almost overwhelming, the rush of all of those feelings, the rain, the revelation of both his and your powers. Did you rush into this?

“Logan, I—“

“Look—“

You overlap with each other, letting the silence overcome you both again.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” you ask Logan, trying to hide away in an attempt to preserve your feelings.

“No, you can go,” Logan retreats as he crosses his arms over his bare chest. You smile nervously, unsure of how to word what you’re feeling.

“Um, well,” you start, “What I was going to say is: I think I need a little bit of space. I just—a lot happened. I don’t know if I was thinking properly. I just don’t know if we got caught up in the moment or—“ you shake your head, shutting your eyes tightly as you try to word this carefully. “Logan, what we did—what we’re doing, it’s serious. I don’t know if I’m ready for something like this, or if we should even be doing this.”

You can’t help the lump that forms in your throat, unsure if it’s from anxiety or from how painful it is to admit that to him. You just want your degree. This…thing you have with him could threaten that. He’s stoic, taking you in carefully. You start to speak again, wanting to clarify your words, but he finally talks.

“I was gonna say the same thing,” he replies simply, clearly not wanting to show any sign of emotion. That honestly makes you more nervous. Did you upset him? Is he disappointed?

“Logan—“

“I’ll, uh, get my things and head out,” he walks past you and starts towards the stairs, hesitating before ascending, “And don’t worry, we can just pretend like this never happened.”

You try to go after him, to clarify. It hurts you that he thinks you want to forget it. As much as a part of you would like to, you don’t think you can. But he’s already halfway up the stairs. You huff as you lean back against your kitchen counter, thoughts racing with a mixture of regret and excitement. How are the two of you supposed to just forget about this? Is forgetting this whole ordeal for the better? Logan’s rapid descent down the stairs pulls you from your thoughts, he slips his boots on as you cross over to him. 

“Logan, I don’t think we can just forget this.”

“Not a matter of can or can’t, we have to,” he replies, rather curtly, picking up his leather jacket that was discarded on the floor during last night’s escapade.

“Can we at least talk about it?” you level, but he’s set on how he feels, it seems. This was a mistake.

“There’s nothing to talk about. You said it yourself, we got caught up in the moment. Sorry for comin’ here, won’t happen again.” And with that he breezes past you and out the door, not saying a word to you when he hops in his truck and drives away. You thought getting drinks with him was bad, but this might just be your worst nightmare. 

…

You toss and turn in your bed, struggling to find comfort in your sheets with your mind racing the way that it is. What a braindead decision. Why did you do that? Why didn’t you consider the implications of him knowing everything about you? How are you supposed to look him in the eye on Monday? Groaning in frustration, you dig the heels of your palm in your eyes, trying to will the thoughts of regret away. There’s nothing you can do now. Your feelings for each other are out in the open. You can’t hide behind faux timidity, Logan will see right through it. All you can do is face the reality of the situation: you just fucked your history professor, who is a mutant like you, and dreams the same vivid sex fantasies you do. It’s bizarre to think of it that way, almost feels fake.

Eyes feel heavy, but you don’t dare shut them. You fear going to sleep now, worried that another dream might happen and the two of you will have to see each other after knowing what happened in your subconscious. Would your consciousness meet you there this time? Would you just be a puppet to whatever the dream wills to happen, or will you see him with lucidity? You don’t know. But you can’t fight sleep much longer.

Bright white light blinds you, its fluorescence humming from above. You’re barely conscious, weak, skin cold from the icy metal you lay upon. You don’t know where you are. You can barely move with the restraints at your wrists, ankles, waist, head. But even if you could get up, you feel faint. Like your body has been sucked of every nutrient save for the bare minimum you need to be alive. Men in surgical gear hover above you, goggle-shrouded eyes looming at you hungrily. You would panic but your body doesn’t have the energy to. Equipment comes to view in your peripheral—needles and tubes with strange liquids. Beeping and muffled talk of dissections and extractions is all you can hear, barely able to tell what they’re really saying.

“She might not survive the procedure, she’s barely hanging on as is,” one of them says, their tone hushed but stressed.

“He gave orders. Prep the IV,” another voice commands. Immediately following his direction, the sharp stab of a needle hits your skin. Then another. And another. Blood flowing out of you, liquids pumping into you, consciousness fading as the beeping grows louder and more incessant. You try to stay awake—fighting with all your might, but you can’t. The beeping has crescendoed with the accompaniment of flashing lights. You’re sure this is your mind’s way of coping with the loss of reality as you slowly slip away. Voices yell around you, crashing bodies, and the flying of blood splatter covers the ceiling you’ve been staring at. The room glows white and you’re sure this is it. But something blocks the light—a figure hovers above you. Ripping the needles from your arms and freeing you from the restraints, a voice soothes you. It reverberates around your skull, echoing and not registering as any kind of real dialogue. Then, arms cradle you and lift you up off of the table and suddenly you recognize the source of the voice.

“You’re gonna be okay, baby, I got you,” Logan reassures, the gravel in his voice bringing you back down to earth. Eyes blink up at him as he pulls you against his chest, carrying you away from the fluorescent room. There’s another voice—one you don’t recognize.

“Logan, we must get her medical attention. She’s dying,” the man says.

“We’re almost there, baby, just hang on,” Logan comforts you, trying his best not to jostle you as he practically runs through a white blur of a hallway. The scenery around you darkens, an engine hums in the distance. Nothing is legible to you through your delirium. The humming grows louder and louder until you’re carried up a ramp and placed gently onto the hard surface of a table. A hiss, some beeps and the room shakes. You can’t make sense of anything, your surroundings looking like a blur of grey and faint flashing lights.

“Hank, do something, damnit!” Logan shouts, gripping your hand tightly. You wish you could squeeze him back, but your body is too weak to do much of anything—sleep seeming like something that would feel so, so good right now.

“Her body has been deprived of the necessary nutrients her powers need in order to regenerate her strength, I can give her this to see if it will sustain her until—“

“Give her the damn shot!”

The light prick on your skin barely registers as you try your hardest to look at Logan’s face, but he’s so faint, nothing looks clear.

“Logan,” you rasp.

“You’re gonna be okay, baby, just look at me. You got this, just hang on.” He shakes you gently, trying to keep you conscious. But you just want to sleep, it’s all you can think about.

“I’m so tired,” you murmur, your lids heavy, your breathing slowing down. The thumping that used to be so loud in your chest feels lighter and lighter as you succumb to your sleep. Everything around you echoes, unable to register the yells and screams as you allow your body to fall asleep.

A gasp violently wakes you, like you almost fell off of something. Chest heaving, you sit up in bed, taking time to process what just happened. You barely remember this dream, just that Logan was there and you felt so weak and tired and scared. Falling back against your pillow, you try and will yourself back to sleep, already feeling the events of the dream fading away. But a harsh noise startles you awake, your heart rate skyrocketing from the shock. You jump at the sound of banging echoing from your door. Checking the clock, you wonder who would be here at this hour. You go to your bedroom window to peek out at your driveway for any indication of who might be bothering you. It’s dark, but you can make out the silhouette of a car parked in front of your house. Sighing in annoyance at the sight of what you recognize as Logan’s truck, you stomp down your stairs, wondering what the hell he could be doing here at this hour. Swinging the door open, you try to hide your surprise at the way he’s dressed. No shirt, just sweatpants. Like he just rolled out of bed and showed up. He almost looks relieved to see you. He doesn’t give you a second to question him before he speaks.

“Did you just have a dream?” he asks, his tone concerned and stressed, bare chest heaving. You’re too tired for this tonight, you just want him gone.

“What? Logan, go home,” you scoff, trying to shut the door but he stops you, imploring your name.

“Did you…have any dreams?” he repeats, slowing his words down carefully as he wills you to be honest with him. Judging from his disheveled appearance and worried tone, you’re assuming he just had the same dream you did. Did he come here to see if you were okay? To test your connection further and see if the dream meant something to you? You can’t push this relationship further past what it already is. It’s better for you and Logan that you forget about everything and try and move on.

“I didn’t have any dreams, goodnight, Logan,” you reply simply, shutting the door finally and locking it behind you before you head upstairs, going back to bed.

…

You’re not religious, but you’ve been praying—praying that this morning will not be the most awkward morning of your life and it will be just like any other day in Logan’s class, which really isn’t too normal at all. At least, not in comparison to the rest of the courses you’ve been taking, but you hope he doesn’t have any outbursts. 

Your classmates, engaged in conversation around you, barely notice Logan walking in. But you do. He’s a few minutes later than usual, hair messy and eyes heavy as he sets his briefcase down. He’s flipping through the textbook, keeping his eyes low so he doesn’t make eye contact with you. A part of you wants him to—wants him to look at you. Does he still think about your night of passion? Does he have to try and stop himself from caving into self-pleasure, shoving every lasting thought of you down the drain? Does he have to fight the urge to stare at your tits or the way your ass looks in your jeans when you turn around to write on the board….

God, what has happened to you? You have sex with someone once and you can hardly control your thoughts. How can he have this effect on you? Clenching your thighs when he enters a room, heart racing at the sight of his biceps peeking out from under the sleeves of his T-shirt. You’re like a fangirl who can’t stop thinking about nothing but him—him, him, him. You might as well flutter your eyelashes and prop your chin on your hand if this is how you’re going to be.

Logan goes on and on about…Shit, what did he just say? C’mon, pay attention damnit. This man will not cause me my degree, you curse your thoughts and try to whip yourself into shape.

Shaking your head of the sexual ideals, you bring your focus to your note taking, attempting to forge a mental image of Logan being extremely unattractive. It works for the remainder of class, or at least until he hands you back your essay with the words My office. After class, scrawled at the top of the page. You glance upwards to meet his gaze, he holds eye contact for a beat before quickly turning away to pack up his things at the front of the room. Class is over, but you don’t dare to get up just yet, frozen in indecisiveness. Why does he want to see you? What reason does he have to see you? Is he just trying to come up with an excuse? The classroom’s empty now, leaving you with a decision: see Logan, or go home.

You honestly don’t really have much of a choice, as your body decides for your brain by carrying you to the door of his office. With hesitation, you knock, silently hoping that he forgot about what he wrote at the top of your essay.

“Come in,” he calls from behind the door, causing you to curse internally. Gingerly, you open the door inch by inch, peeking in briefly before stepping inside and closing the door behind you. He’s sat behind his desk, leaning back leisurely with his legs spread wide. You offer an awkward smile as you wipe your clammy hands on the fabric of your skirt, trying your best to hide your nerves.

“What’s up?” you ask, attempting a casual tone despite your nervousness in being here. Logan adjusts his position in his chair slightly, clearly stewing on something.

“So, your essay—I wanted to talk…well, I wanted to tell you,” he stammers, clearly struggling to form his thoughts. You try your best to listen patiently, but he continues to stumble through each word, “Look, there’s some things—there’s a thing, it’s extracurricular, I guess…”

“You brought me here to talk about a club?” you question, narrowing your eyes at him in slight disbelief.

“No, it’s not a club—well, it sorta is…look, I—“

“Logan,” you start, trying to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. You’re sure he just called you in because he won’t admit that he’s upset you rebuffed him. “I appreciate you thinking of me, but I’m not interested.”

You turn around in an attempt to leave, but Logan crosses to you in no time, spinning you around with a tight grip on your arm. The sudden movement makes you gasp lightly, a familiar twinge of arousal swirling within you at the harsh movement. He takes a deep breath, his mouth gaping like he’s trying to say something but can’t find the words. Something is distracting him, but you can hardly focus too—the way he looms over you and the smell of his tobacco filled musk being almost too much to bear. He stares at you for what feels like forever, a look of mild annoyance on his face which makes your brow furrow.

“What?” you ask incredulously, trying your best to hide how much he’s making your heart skip a beat and your thighs clench.

“Will you stop that,” he practically hisses.

“Stop what?” 

“I can—Jesus, I can smell you.” He shakes you gently, pulling you slightly closer to him, like his body wants to kiss you but he’s trying his hardest to stop himself.

“Smell? What are you...” You trail off, your mind racing with possibilities. My perfume? My shampoo? What can he smell? And then it hits you. Can he smell when I’m turned on? Oh, god. You gulp, your throat suddenly extremely dry. How are you supposed to play this off? It’s almost like you’ve been backed into a corner, until your eyes flick downwards between the two of you, catching a glimpse of his own arousal pressed firmly against his jeans. Looking back up to him, you cock an eyebrow.

“Doesn’t seem to bother you,” you retort, narrowing your eyes slightly.

“You don’t exactly make it easy, princess,” he says, shifting his weight in discomfort.

“Make what easy?” you ask, doing your best to appear clueless to what he’s implying.

He inhales sharply before spinning you around so your ass is pinned to the edge of his desk, Logan’s body pressed into yours as he stops you from being able to move out from under him. The tip of his nose grazes against your own as his lips hover in a state of hesitance, contemplating a kiss.

“Logan,” you warn, voice hushed, “We can’t.”

“Why not?” He tries to catch your lips, but you pull back, not letting him make contact.

“Someone could walk in.”

“Could they?” he asks, dragging a hand up your side, letting your shirt hike up under the trail of his hand. Your breath hitches as his fingers graze along your skin, melting into his touch. He dips his face down to your ear, his beard prickling the soft skin of your cheek.

“What are you gonna do about that, princess?” he husks, tempting you with each rake of his words along the gravel of his vocal cords. His mouth glides along the side of your face, touch too ginger to be a kiss, but firm enough to feel each curve of his lips. He told you that you’re not making it easy, but god, it’s taking every ounce of self control in you to not just let him fuck you on the desk behind you. 

But why not let him? You’ve already done it once, and who’s to say this won’t be the last time you do it? God, he’s making this so hard. The way his frame is pressed to yours, hands dragging up and down your body, his mouth so close to yours that if you so much as hiccup you’d surely lock lips. Maybe just a little kiss wouldn’t hurt, you think to yourself. With a raise of your hand and a flick of your wrist, the door is fused with the threshold, ensuring that no one can enter and catch you and Logan in the act. Hooking your arms around his neck, you finally pull his face into yours, affirming the connection that your mouths have been craving.

Groans escape Logan’s throat as he lifts you up slightly, setting you down on the desk. You wrap your legs around his torso, trying not to pay attention to the fact that you can feel the outline of his cock through your thin panties. Arching your back into him, your tongue tests the waters by dipping into his mouth gently. 

The kiss is not pretty by any means, it’s wet and ravenous and messy, and so so good. It’s like you’re the first meal he’s had in ages; hungry yet savored. Tongues unabashedly become familiar with each other, no care with how far he thrusts it into your mouth and vice versa, just wanting to swallow and feel every last inch of you. Logan’s hands start wandering from your sides, sliding up your torso to grip your breasts possessively. You whimper in his mouth, frenzied in your desire to feel all of him. Hands wander again, settling at your waist to pull you closer to him before slipping under your skirt. A whimper leaves your mouth as he toys with the waistband of your panties, working his hand between your bodies so he can slide them to the side. Gasping into his mouth as he slides a finger through your lips, back arching into him.

You lose your focus on the kiss as he teases you, avoiding your aching core to make sure you’re nice and wet for him. His onslaught of your lips is still consistent, as if toying with your pussy is second nature to him. But he’s seemingly through with the teasing, as he slips one finger inside of you. You mewl into the kiss when he curls a digit, Logan takes that as permission to slip in another finger. You’re putty beneath him, barely able to reciprocate the kiss through whimpers and moans as he continues to pump in and out of you. 

The sound of knocking outside causes both you and Logan to scramble. Hastily, pulling apart, straightening clothes, smoothing hair. 

“Uh, be with ‘ya in just a minute,” Logan calls.

You hop off of his desk, bending down to collect your things, but Logan stops you with a grip on your arm. 

“Logan, there’s someone—“ you whisper, your voice stressed.

“They can wait,” he husks, moving his hand from your arm to your jaw. Gripping your face, he brings his fingers from his free hand to your mouth, beckoning you to suck them clean. You’re not sure why, but you oblige, parting your lips to allow him access as you languidly suck your arousal from his fingers. He stares down at you with desire clearly painted on his face. He wants you, and he is not trying to hide it. 

“Good girl,” he drawls with a tone dripping in velvet, causing you to swirl your tongue around each digit enthusiastically, savoring the taste of your own juices. The knocking continues, harmonizing with the voice of a young girl this time.

“Professor, I’m sorry, I just have a few questions about the homework.”

Logan pulls his fingers from your mouth, making you almost whine at the loss of fullness; a bitter taste remaining on your tongue. You clear your throat and grab your bag, smoothing your skirt and hair down as you silently hope you don’t look like you were just aggressively making out with your professor. Logan slips behind his desk, settling into his chair, unabashedly ogling your ass as you approach the door. You flash a flirty smile over your shoulder as you reach for the doorknob, almost falling over when the door doesn’t budge. You give it another good yank before remembering that you fused the door to the frame so no one would catch you and Logan in a compromising position.

You laugh awkwardly, catching Logan’s slightly bemused gaze as you lift your hand and restore the door back to its original state. Swinging it open, you offer a meek smile to the girl waiting patiently outside before quickly scurrying away. You can hear her still from the end of the hall.

“What’s with the door? I had a hard time getting it open,” she says.

“It’s broken.”

…

As you drive home from class, you can’t help but blush as you think back to your impromptu makeout session with Logan. The way he kissed you, touched you, grabbed you…No, you can’t. As much as you’d like to give in to these thoughts and feelings, you can’t allow this thing to become any bigger than it already is. It’s just a fling, a fleeting infatuation. You can’t let him distract you from your aspirations. There’s a whole path before you, laid out clearly. You know where you’re supposed to go. Sure, he may be like you, and he may understand you, but you have already accepted that the world isn’t ready to welcome mutants. If you let yourself have feelings for him, you would threaten the life you’ve worked so hard to maintain in secret. No one knows you, no one notices you, and that’s how you need it to be.

Besides, you like your quiet life. You like the winding drive to and from town. You like breathing the misty mountain air while you drink your morning coffee. You like the quiet that encompasses your little house. And nothing, surely no man, will take that tranquility from you.

Bedroom window cracked, you attempt to lull yourself to sleep with the sounds of the chirping crickets just outside your window. Though your eyes don’t feel quite as heavy as you’d like them to, you keep them shut. Hoping that your body will soon take over and succumb to the sleep you know you need to get.

Your vision around you is cloudy, unclear. There are no defining characteristics to your surroundings, just an expanse of darkness that envelops everything. You catch a light in the distance, the black slowly melting away as you approach it. When the darkness dissipates, the image is clearer. A hospital room. You almost don’t perceive who’s lying upon the bed, as the tubes and devices cover their face—your face— completely. You’re in the hospital? What hospital? This is unlike anything you’ve seen before, the equipment you’re hooked up to is far more advanced than what you know hospitals to have. 

A blurry figure sits in a chair beside your bed, you cannot discern who it may be. The image clears further as the figure moves. It’s a man—it’s Logan. He looks…scared? Sad? Concerned? No, he looks distraught. He stares at you longingly, gripping your hand tightly. Another figure enters your line of sight. Unclear, but…blue? And furry? He’s broad, tall, and he wears a white lab coat, a pair of glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. His face grows more detailed, revealing an animal-like physique to you. The two men begin speaking to each other but you cannot quite understand what they’re saying; their words are muffled and echoey, like they’re underwater. The shroud of indiscernible dialogue slowly dissipates.

“Logan, I’m sorry, we’ve tried everything. Her life…it’s in her hands now,” the blue stranger says, offering a sympathetic hand on Logan’s shoulder.

“It’s not in her hands, damnit, it’s in yours!” he snaps, standing up to drill into him further. “If she dies, it’s on you, Hank…so help me, god, if she—if she dies, you better pray, Hank—you better pray she makes it.”

Hank doesn’t seem phased by his threat. His expression is sad, empathetic.

“I’m sorry, Lo—“

He’s cut off by a droning beep emanating from one of the machines. You’re flatlining. You’re watching yourself flatline.

“No…no, no, no, no,” Logan sputters, rushing to your side. “No, come on baby, don’t do this to me. I’m right here with you, wake up, baby.”

“Logan—“ Hank tries to intervene.

“Goddamnit! Wake up!” he cries now, practically cradling you as he holds you to his chest. 

You can’t stand to see him like this, you’re here. You’re right in front of him. In an attempt to comfort him, you try and approach further, but something stops you. You can’t move. Like a magnet that’s faced its match, you’re incapable of making contact. 

“I’m here. I’m right here!” you shout. But he doesn’t react. And neither does Hank. There’s nothing you can do. Logan is anguished over your lifeless body and you just have to watch him suffer. The force stops you from approaching him, yet you still try with all your strength. Fighting and straining against the impermeable energy, you scream more as you hope and pray that Logan might hear you. Just when you feel like he may be within reach, something drags you away as if you were a lure they were reeling back in on a fishing line. The strength in which it pulls you away knocks you completely off your feet and you lose all sense of your surroundings.

Falling. A gasp and a drop of your heart brings you back down to earth. That was the weirdest one yet. Despite the strange out of body experience, it felt so real. Like you could almost reach out and touch Logan if you tried hard enough, yet you couldn’t. A sense of dread and anxiety weights heavy on your heart. You don’t think you’ll be able to fall asleep, at least not for a while. 

Pushing open the doors of your patio, you shiver as the cold, night air encompasses you. You wrap a blanket around you as you propel yourself to the roof. It’s nights like these where you find yourself extra grateful for the lack of light pollution here. The stars don’t dream, the ones above may already be burnt out, but they still shine even in their possible death. 

Your attention is drawn to headlights at the top of your driveway, your eyes adjusting to recognize Logan’s truck pulling in. A part of you wants to be annoyed, but there’s another part of you that is still pretty shaken up from that dream and could use a comforting presence. And judging by his sudden appearance, he must’ve also had the same one. He steps out of his truck, a case of beer in his hand.

“Figured you could use one of these,” Logan calls from below, gesturing with the case of beer. 

You exhale a light laugh, shaking your head at the absurdity of this situation. A wave of your hand and you project a set of crystalline, pink stairs for him to climb up. He hesitantly ascends, clearly weary of the sturdiness of the projection. He reaches the top, the steps dissipating behind him. A hand stretches out to you, offering you one of the beers, which you accept with a tight-lipped smile. He sinks down next to you, his beer bottle hissing open before he takes a generous swig. Twisting the cap off, you take a swig yourself, wincing at the bitter path it leaves down your throat. You’re quiet for a while, mostly because you’re unsure of what to say, but also in part because you like the quiet. Your gaze has been fixed on the freckled sky above, avoiding making eye contact with Logan. The impromptu kiss today might’ve left him wanting more, and you hope he didn’t just come here to pick up where you left off. But, then again, he had the same dream you did, where he seemed to be far more distraught than you were.

“You okay?” you ask quietly, turning your head to face him. His jaw tightens slightly before he turns to you and nods. Taking another sip of his beer, he looks lost in thought, leg propped up and arm rested atop his knee.

“Why do you think we keep having these dreams?” he asks lowly, finally turning to face you. 

In all honesty, you don’t know. You’ve never experienced anything like this before. As far as you know, your powers don’t affect the subconscious, and while you don’t know much about what Logan can do, you doubt that his metal claws come with the power to manipulate dreams.

“I don’t know,” you offer, feeling a bit defeated by the fact that you have to keep dealing with this every night. You can’t remember the last time you had a full nights sleep that wasn’t interrupted with nightmares or sex dreams.

“Can your powers…you know, even do stuff like that?” he inquires, unsure of himself. 

You shake your head, feeling certain that if you were capable of this kind of thing, it would’ve most likely already happened to you, before you ever even met him.

“No, I don’t think so,” you replied, before continuing, “And you? Can you…do stuff like that?” 

You take another sip of your beer. Logan chuckles, seemingly amused at the thought.

“I don’t mean to disappoint, but these claws don’t got much to do with mysticism,” he teases, causing you to nod in understanding. “I know I didn’t explain much,” he continues, unsheathing his claws with a sharp ‘snikt,’ “But I wasn’t exactly born like this.”

“What do you mean?” you inquire, confused as to what he’s implying as you stare at the blades that protrude from his knuckles; they glisten in the moonlight.

“This metal…it ain’t just on the claws,” he remarks in a tone that you can only describe as pained as he begins to recount this to you. “Those dreams you—we have….that fear you felt in there, it was a reality for me.”

His jaw tenses as he sheathes his claws. You’re not sure what exactly he’s trying to say—or allude to, as he isn’t saying anything with clarity.

“What fear?” you coax, trying to get him to reveal more to you.

“The tests.” He’s quiet, taking a generous swig of his beer, easily downing a majority of the liquid that was left in the bottle.

“What tests? Who tested on you?” He doesn’t answer you, avoiding eye contact as you try to level with him. “Was it the government? The military?”

He stiffens, his body having a visceral reaction to those words. That realization makes your heart sink. What did he go through? Why did they test on him? What did they do to him? What did he mean when he said the metal wasn’t just on his claws? Your mind races with questions and concerns until you take note of his stiff posture and balled fists, his hand keeping a death grip on his beer bottle. You’ve never seen him look so tense before. This must be painful to recount—to have been treated inhumanely like a lab rat. You cannot imagine what he must be feeling. You place a gentle hand on his balled fist and feel as he relaxes under your touch. He turns his head to you with a softened expression.

“You don’t have to tell me anything else…I’m sorry,” you sympathized, running your thumb along his knuckles. 

He shrugs, as if this was a casual retelling. A typical Monday night for Logan Howlett.

“Don’t stress about it, princess,” he husks, dipping his head down to your level. He lingers there for a moment, gaze flicking between your eyes and lips, clearly contemplating a kiss. You should protest, push him away, but his closeness is comforting. It’s warm. He attempts to lock his lips with yours, but you turn away, not allowing contact.

“I…I still think we shouldn’t…,” you murmur, keeping your head low and meekly looking up at him through your eyebrows. He nods in understanding, shifting away from you slightly. Despite your hesitance to kiss him again, you don’t want him to leave. His presence relaxes you, keeps you from spiraling. You move closer to him, gently linking your arm with his before leaning against his shoulder. The suddenness of your contact makes him flinch under you slightly. You feel a twinge of embarrassment when he removes his arm from the link you formed. But the feeling quickly dissipates when he wraps it around you to pull your frame further into his. A gentle kiss is placed on the top of your head, making your breath hitch. This is exactly what you needed tonight.

“Thank you—for coming here,” you mutter, nuzzling your head into his chest in an attempt to get comfortable. He shifts under you, perhaps in an attempt to get a look at your huddled figure. 

“It’s nothing. People like us—we take care of each other,” he remarks, adjusting the blanket that’s fallen off your shoulder with the hand that is not wrapped around you. He fumbles with the beer bottle, struggling to get a grip on the blanket with the fingers he doesn’t need to use in order to support the glass.

“You done with that? I can take care of it for you,” you offer, gesturing to his beer bottle. He nods, offering it to you as he’s probably expecting you to just take it away from him. You take him by surprise, though, when you dissipate it with a wave of your hand, a trail of pink particles dissolving into the air. He looks at his hand incredulously, then at you, then back to his hand.

“Alright, I told you my shit, now tell me yours,” he insisted, a bemused but intrigued tone to his voice, causing you to laugh lightly.

“Okay, um, well…I don’t know everything about what I can do, but I do know atomic structures. If I can conceptualize something, I can conceptualize its atomic structure,” you begin, “So, take, for instance, this beer bottle,” you hold up the glass in your hand for emphasis, “When I look at it, I don’t just see the bottle. I see all of its particles and components and the atomic structures that make it up. So, since I’m done with it, I could just throw it away, but I’d honestly rather help the environment a little and convert it…” you trail off as you begin dissipating its particles, “…into energy. In this case, oxygen.”

Logan looks down at you with an amused expression, which makes you nervous. Did you say too much? Is he silently making fun of you?

“Sorry,” you concede sheepishly, suddenly feeling embarrassed about the way you admitted that to him.

“No, don’t be. That’s…Look, I’ve seen a lot in my time, but I’ve never seen anything like that—like you. Don’t be sorry,” he reassures, nudging you slightly with the arm that envelops you. You smile in relief and feel a twinge of pride. He’s right, it is pretty incredible. And it’s nothing to be sorry for.

“Thank you,” you murmur, looking up at him through heavy eyelids. Your exhaustion is beginning to rear its head at you the longer you sit in his arms. Settling against his chest, you pay attention to the steady thump of his heartbeat, the way his thumb runs circles along your upper arm, the warmness of his body on yours. 

You’re not sure how soon after closing your eyes you fell asleep, finding yourself tangled in your bedsheets the following morning, Logan’s frame curled into yours.

...

A/N: AHHHHH!! i loved writing this one, i know i say that about every chapter but i mean it this time. no seriously this was fun to write. there's so much to this one and i feel like its jam packed with angst, exposition, a little sprinkle of smut, and a deepening of their connection. i do apologize for the sudden length between updates, i just started a new job and ive also been babysitting during the day so i got randomly busy all of a sudden!! i'm not giving up on this story and i still have SO SO SO MUCH PLANNED REST ASSURED. i love hearing peoples thoughts and theories, and i hope, as i said in the A/N at the top of this chapter, no one felt like the slow burn was too rushed. srsly theres still a LOT that has to happen before these two get together so the slow burn WILL be slow. a couple of people have asked about a chapter from logan's POV, and i will say that there will be maybe a couple more chapters until we get the one from his POV! so it'll happen!!! yay!! as always leave a like or a comment and also feel free to keep up with the story here on my ao3 as well!!

Taglist: @wolviesgirl @sanemis-piss @fictionalmen-dilflover @e-nonsense @bontensbabygirl @sseleniaa