#I'M FINE. I'M NORMAL. (false)

[icewindandboringhorror]

examining a seemingly normal image only to slowly realize the clear signs of AI generated art.... i know what you are... you cannot hide your true nature from me... go back where you came from... out of my sight with haste, wretched and vile husk

[fadedrainbowbookshelves]

Nothing bad is happening. Nothing bad is happening. Nothing bad is happening. Nothing...

[letbuckfuck]

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[truthsinwhispers]

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[endlessapis]

hi op! these tags made me cry (affectionate)!! saving them forever!!!

share in the act of creation

don't tag as kin/me/id/muse/etc. please ♡

[nobodybetterlookatme]

I hope you're feeling better!

Thank you but unfortunately I am not 🙃

[thethingaboutnapkinman]

david mazzucchelli ur so cool but i can't talk about you in an academic setting without mentioning batman and then falling off my chair

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I am not the asshole, and I think this whole thing is stupid, but I was promised that if I sent my side of things to this blog I could pick the hotel for our honeymoon, and I am marrying a man who once tried to take me BACKPACKING of all things, so this ask has become a necessity. In light of that:

AITA (I'm NOT) for planning the seating for our wedding in a logical way?

I got engaged in June, apparently in part because of my partner writing in to this blog (I don't know how to find or link to his posts, but I'm the man who got the cat to bite him, if that rings any bells?). At any rate, for the past ten weeks, I've been in the beginning stages of planning our wedding with my fiance, whom I have been secretly attempting to remove from the planning process as much as possible. I have ALREADY been given a list of his must-haves, and I AM incorporating as many of them as our budget allows. This has NOTHING to do with the emotional side of the event, and EVERYTHING to do with the fact that this is an idiot with no real planning experience or taste who thinks he knows more than me.

For the most part, this has worked very well. I'm the one who's been collating all the contact information for things, so I just replaced all the emails for the tacky companies with false addresses, responded to his inquiries as the companies to say the date was already booked or the price was outside our budget, and let him filter his way to the ones I DO like on his own. I also made a fuss about being "willing to compromise" on the few things he's picked I'm completely fine with in the hopes I can use it to make him compromise later, and have been humming portions of the songs I want on the playlist in the hopes he'll think he came up with the idea to include them himself.

None of this is the real problem. The PROBLEM is that he is deliberately ruining my seating chart, by moving our horrible friend's seat when I'm not looking.

The man in question dated both of us at one point in our VERY early 20s (both ended BADLY), is generally the messiest person we know, and will almost certainly get sloppy drunk and try to make a speech IF he does make an appearance. I'm banking on the fact that he won't, because he's also ridiculously wealthy, and will almost certainly send us some very lavish gift in lieu of coming.

He is SUPPOSED to be sitting beside my fiances aunt, at the same table as his grandmother, his work friend, and her girlfriend, because all four of these women are stone cold terrors who I believe are more than capable of keeping him in line on the slim chance he does come. My fiance INSISTS they won't be able to have any fun if they're running interference all night, and keeps moving him to sit at the head table instead. You know, where WE are. I finally caught him switching the label magnets on my planning board last night, and confronted him.

I tried leveraging how much I've been compromising already, that he's almost certainly going to RSVP no, and that I shouldn't have to deal with him on our big night. My fiance said he knew about all the fake emailing and such, and told me, and I QUOTE: "Look, the mind game shit was hot when it was just about the colour scheme or whatever, but I actually care about this. So you can suffer with everybody else, or you can do the normal thing and not invite a guy you hate to our wedding, you weirdo."

I said that if I did that, it would take out half his groomsmen, he called me an asshole and said I should go explain this to "literally any rational adult" so they could tell me I was in the wrong, and now here we are.

Would you recommend calling my fiance's bluff, since he doesn't want the man sitting near us either? Or should I focus on ensuring he'll turn down the invitation no matter what, so the matter of where he WON'T be sitting can be a moot point?

What are these acronyms?

Original post

The update

[periprose]

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

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

When Flight Comes to Fire (or, Logan Gains a Guardian Angel)

Word count: 4.5k

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

LGGA Masterlist

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

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

Why, mom? It’s me! It’s me–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

/

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

/

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh a little as Logan smiles a cocky grin.

/

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...” Kyle looks on in disbelief.

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

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

It lasts for about two seconds.

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

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

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

That was a mistake on your part.

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

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

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

/

Logan sees it happen from a distance.

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

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

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

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

Never you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

/

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My mother didn’t…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

/

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He won’t let you, not this time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He kisses you again.

[tpwk-formula1]

Kimi Antonelli. I would like to have my pizza with coliflower crust(grumpy reader) with Alfredo sauce. Now for the toppings, maybe with basil, broccoli and Gouda cheese. And for my drink sprite and truly. Maybe mt dew (sub reader) and yes aftercare. THANK U MY LOVE❤️❤️❤️

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

cauliflower crust sunshine x grumpy Alfredo sweet sex basil "I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy" broccoli "Made just for me huh?" gouda “Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl” sprite size kink truly belly bulge mt dew dom/sub dessert yes served by Kimi Antonelli

Kimi x Grumpy! reader

TW - riding cock, belly bulge, size kink, missionary, unprotected sex, creampie

WC 1400+

Y/N POV

"Why are you so moody today," Kimi whispered into my ear while pinching my thigh is a "behave yourself" manner.

"I'm not," I snapped whispering back getting more annoyed with my boyfriend. He just rolls his eyes at me before turning his attention back to the rest of the table and joining in on their conversation leaving me to wallow in my own annoyance at my boyfriend.

"Are you good?" Ollie asks keeping his volume down so only I can hear him.

"I'm fine, why does everyone think I'm not," I whisper back at him letting him be on the receiving end of a verbal lashing. I cringe slightly when I realize Kimi had heard me snap at Ollie making him pinch my thigh a little harder.

"I mean you're normally pretty "grumpy" but today you have this look in your eye like you wanna destroy the world," Ollie whispers softly. I just shrug and we leave the conversation there.

He was right though, Kimi had always been the golden retriever boyfriend and I was the typical "black cat" girlfriend, which wasn't necessarily false but Kimi knew the truth. It was just a way to protect myself not wanting too many people getting too close to me, but Kimi spent years working on breaking my walls down, and here we are years later still going as strong as ever. As for the modd I'm in today, it's everyone else's comments on Kimi's F1 announcement that has me wanting to "destroy the world" or whatever Ollie said.

When the dinner wrapped up Kimi and I go back to his hotel room where he finally gets the answers he was looking for.

"It's just unfair Kimi! I mean they barely even watch you in Formula 2 and then the one time they watch you, you crash and while that is embarrassing I'm gonna be real with you BUT that doesn't mean you need to wait," I continue ranting laying in bed with Kimi making him smile but start kissing at my jaw and neck during my rant starting to distract me.

"Watching you get so mad on my behalf, it fucking hot," Kimi mumbles into my neck rutting his hips into my side letting me feel his hard cock through his briefs. I just roll my eyes and laugh.

"I can't believe my very serious rant about hating the fans of Formula 1 has you so horny you're grinding into me," I joke before turning onto my side so I'm facing him and pulling him in for a quick kiss.

Kimi refused to pull away so what was supposed to be a quick peck turned into us fighting for dominance with our tongues. Finally Kimi is pushing me on my back before climbing on top of me pinning my hands above my head all the while keeping his mouth on top of mine.

"Kimi, I need you," I whine against his mouth making him let out a breathy laugh making my pussy throb just at the noise.

"Hm. I wanna watch you bounce on my cock," Kimi said with a smirk before letting me use my strength to turn us over so I was the one on top now.

I start grinding my hips into Kimi's large cock making both of us whimper at the stimulation. I pull my sleep shirt off my body leaivng me in the lacey black panties I was going to sleep in before Im shuffling my body down slightly before pulling Kimi's briefs off letting his hard cock rest against his torso showing just how large he truly is. The tip is barely touching the bottom of his bellybutton.

I instantly start jerking his cock off dwarfing the size of my hand.

"Miracle I can walk in the mornings," I mumble softly making Kimi laugh at my little comment. Losing my virginity to Kimi was terrible and he refused to touch me for weeks after but as time went on we learned how to pleasure each other taking everything slow before I finally got my redo which was amazing.

"I can make it to where you can't walk tomorrow," Kimi said with a smirk written all over his face making my cheek heat at the suggestion. I just shook my head no, knowing tomorrow wasn't a good day for that.

I release Kimi's cock and make quick work of pulling my panties down before I'm climbing back into Kimi's lap. When I grip Kimi's cock I softly tease my clit making me whimper due to how sentive I was, but I needed to collect as much moisture on his cock as possible which wasn't very difficult.

Once Kimi's cock is drenched in my essence I slowly start sinking down making both of us gasp. Once I'm fully seated on Kimi's cock I give myself a few seconds to adjust before I start rocking my hips making both Kimi and I groan at the pleasure.

I start bouncing on Kimi's cock making both of us gasp and moan at the intense pleasure.

"Fuck, so fucking tight," Kimi groans making me speed up my actions slightly but still not going fast enough to bring either of us to an orgasm.

Kimi finally takes over and flips up back so he's on top and he slowly starts pounding into me making me gasp and moan feeling Kimi all over.

"Made just for me huh?" Kimi says with a smirk making me look at him noticing that he was staring at my tummy making me look down to notice the bulge from Kimi's cock.

I moan at the sight of Kimi's cock going in and out of my body slightly stunned at how noticeable it is.

"Fuck, faster please," I whimper while pulling Kimi's neck down to me so I can kiss him while he speeds up his actions making me whimper at the intensity.

Kimi pulls back slightly and starts fucking into me faster than he was previously making me gasp and feel my orgasm start to approach. Kimi knowing my body so well picked up on this and started pushing down on the bulge in my stomach making me feel Kimi so much more than before, it was starting to get almost too intense.

"Too much, slower," I moan and gasp out through a stuttered breath.

“Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl” Kimi says with a smirk all over his face. While he kept up the pace he let up just slightly on my stomach.

"I can tell you wanna cum," Kimi says before moving his hand from my stomach to my clit and rubbing it in soft circles bringing me over the edge.

"Fuck," I whimper while arching my back and cumming all over Kimi's cock sending him over the edge with one final thrust before unloading a massive load of his cum deep into my pussy making sure to fill me before slowly slipping his cock out not wanting to hurt my overstimulated pussy.

When Kimi slipped out of my pussy he just sits back on his knees and watches as some of his cum starts leaking out of my pussy.

"I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy" Kimi mumbles softly leaning down to kiss my lips making me blush at the dirty praise.

"Do you feel better?" Kimi jokes with a smirk all over his face making me roll my eyes and nod softly making Kimi laugh.

"You take me so well," Kimi says while getting out of bed and pulling me into his arms where he carries me into the bathroom where he puts me on the toilet to do my business while he turns his back and turns the shower on.

After Kimi and I shower together he helps me get dressed into a new shirt to sleep in before helping me step into my panties before laying us both of us on the bed for a cuddle.

"Did I really look like I wanted to destroy the world?" I question feeling back for snapping at everyone today. Kimi just nodded his head softly making me groan while he laughed at me slightly.

"I yelled at Ollie," I state softly making Kimi pull me into his side and place a soft kiss on my cheek.

"I know, I heard. But, if you feel that bad you can apologize tomorrow on the flight back," Kimi tells me softly knowing I won't feel better until I do apologize to Ollie. I just nod my head softly before melting into Kimi's embrace and falling asleep in his arms.

[marril96]

Casually Cruel

Chapter 2: Cruel for the Sake of Love

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: set in WandaVision 1.09. After Agatha’s defeat, you beg Wanda not to brainwash her.

Previous chapter.

It was only when you could no longer see Westview in the distance that you dared lower yourself and Agatha to the ground. You'd started getting tired what felt like an eternity ago, but you kept going, kept flying; the further you were from that town, from Wanda Maximoff, the safer Agatha was.

She was powerless now. Vulnerable. It was up to you to protect her.

She'd noticed you were struggling and had asked you to get down miles ago, but you'd told her it was fine. You were fine. You could do this.

You landed amidst a thick forest you didn't recognize, in a small clearing that seemed relatively safe. There were no people around. No witches. If a wild animal were to pounce, you could take care of it with ease.

As soon as you caught your breath.

You doubled over, taking in deep gulps of breath as if you'd been held underwater. It's okay, you kept telling yourself. It's okay. It's okay. I'm okay. You were far from, but the more you repeated it, the more likely it was that it would become true.

Agatha rubbed your back, softly, gently, light as a feather. "It's okay, angel."

The familiar warmth engulfed you; her touch always did that. You used to think it was her magic bringing you comfort, but now you knew it was her. Just her.

Hearing it from her mouth was enough to believe it.

You were okay.

You could breathe now.

The danger had passed.

Straightening up, you turned to Agatha and said, "Let me look at you."

Your hands were on her cheeks, cupping them, grabbing them. Too harsh, too forceful, but you couldn't help yourself. You needed to make sure that this was real. That she was real. That this wasn't some trick Wanda had played, a spell that had trapped you in your mind, giving you false hope that everything was normal. That you and Agatha were safe.

"Are you okay?" you asked, more for your own peace of mind than hers.

"I'm fine," Agatha said, even though she was clearly not.

Your eyes burned again, welling with tears. Your grip on her tightened. "Did she hurt you?"

She pulled at your hands, trying to pry them off her face; uselessly so for the more she fought you, the stronger you held on.

The black from her fingers was fading. Dark magic abandoning her as her regular magic had.

It sent another pang of pain through you.

She'd lost everything she'd worked for for centuries. All the power she'd amassed, collected, stolen, was gone, just like that.

She'd been beaten. Defeated. Humiliated.

You'd almost lost her.

Why hadn't she listened to you? Why did she have to be so fucking stubborn?

Why did she put you in a position to beg for her life, for her mind?

Why did she break you without laying a single finger on you?

Why did she have so much power over you?

"Stop that," Agatha commanded.

She didn't get to do that. Not after what she'd put you through. "Did she hurt you?" you demanded, fingers digging into her face.

"No," she said in that no nonsense tone that always told you playtime was over. She was serious, and you were going to hear it. "You are hurting me."

The realization shattered you. You instantly released her, brimming with guilt. With pain.

You had hurt her.

It was the last thing you'd wanted to do, yet you still did it. You had caused her pain.

You were just so angry.

At Wanda, for taking her power. For wanting to take her away from you.

At Agatha, for starting this shitshow in the first place.

At yourself, for being unable to help her. For being unable to do anything but watch her get drained, and then beg for her mind.

"I almost lost you!" you snapped, no longer able to hold it in. Not wanting to hold it in anymore. She wouldn't listen to you then, but she would now. She had to. "Do you realize that? I almost fucking lost you!"

Agatha flinched. You never talked to her like that. Even when you were pissed beyond belief, you never lashed out at her. You never fired the gun with the intent to hurt her.

Tough luck. This time, she hurt you first.

Payback was a bitch, as she damn well knew.

"This isn't exactly a walk in the park for me, either," she retorted.

"And whose fault is that, huh?!"

The words stung as soon as they left your mouth. You didn't mean to be that harsh. You didn't mean to twist the knife. It hurt to be hurting her. Salt to the wound; not just hers, but yours, as well.

At the same time, there was no other way to go about this.

This was her fault. She had gone after Wanda first. She had manipulated her. Played with her. Attacked her.

You'd begged her not to, to leave it alone. Something had felt wrong from the very start.

You were overreacting, she'd told you. You should just relax and enjoy the show.

Some show it was.

It shouldn't have been a surprise, really. Since when did Agatha listen to reason?

That didn't make it — didn't make this entire fucked up situation — hurt any less.

Agatha recoiled as if slapped. "You're out of line."

"No, you are out of line!" Angry tears spilled from your eyes. Your cheeks were on fire, your heart a drum abusing your chest. "Why didn't you listen to me? I told you this was a bad idea. I fucking told you!"

She was silent for a moment, at a loss of words. She knew you were right. Knew there was no argument she could possibly provide that would beat your words. "What can I say? Listening to people isn't my strong suit."

"Clearly," you said with more venom than you'd intended.

"Newsflash, sweetheart: I came exactly as advertised. You knew what you were getting into."

That was the saddest part of it all. You knew, from day one, what she was like, and you'd still allowed yourself to fall in love with her. You'd allowed her into your life, into your heart, and now she was here to stay. And the worst of it all was that you wanted her to.

You couldn't imagine your life without her.

Agatha continued, "If I'm such a burden, you should've let Wanda have her way with my mind and been done with it."

It was your turn to flinch. Shots fired right back. She knew exactly which buttons to push, which bleeding wound to poke. "You're not a burden." She could never be.

"Aren't I?" Her eyes lowered to her dress, the last keepsake of her once great power. To her nails, iridescent purplish-blue, attached to fingers that used to be black.

"Never." You grabbed her hands, gently this time. Entwined your fingers with hers. "I don't care how much power you have. I never did. You are all that matters."

You squeezed her hands like you always did when she was under the weather, letting her know that you were here. That you weren't going anywhere. Not ever. No matter what.

"You're the most important thing in my life. That's why I'm so fucking pissed at you. You do things like this, and you don't care that you could get hurt. And I can't protect you if you do. I don't have that kind of power."

Agatha finally looked at you, surprise etched over her face. Still, all these years — decades, centuries — later, she couldn't believe you had her back. No matter how many promises you made, how many risks you took, she could never get it through her head that someone could love her. That someone could put her first.

That she deserved that kind of devotion.

If only she knew how much she meant to you. Mere words and actions couldn't express it.

It needed to be felt.

"I don't know what I would've done if she didn't let you go." You were bawling now, the mere thought of what could have been enough to send you over the edge. "She-she would've had to kill me. I wouldn't be able to let her do that to you. So don't you dare say I should've let her have you. I would never."

You expected Agatha to put on one of her nonchalant masks and act like your words didn't matter. You expected her to call you an idiot. You expected her to sigh and roll her eyes and tell you not to be so dramatic.

Instead, she pulled you to her and enveloped you in a hug. She was warm and tender. Safe. Loving. You melted into her embrace, sobbing into her chest as if your life depended on it. As if this was a farewell instead of the middle of your journey.

"I never think before I talk, do I?" she said, more to herself than to you. "I don't know how you put up with me."

You resisted an urge to chuckle and utter a snarky retort. "You're not that bad."

"Mmm. So you say." She sighed. "I'm… sorry. For putting you in that position. It wasn't fair to you."

You would sooner get blood from a stone than an apology out of her. Agatha Harkness didn't apologize. She usually just kissed you or offered sex as a way of making up.

Wasn't this a unicorn?

"Please, don't do it again," you said softly. "I don't mind going on these… escapades with you. I just don't want you to go against dangerous witches."

Silence befell you for a moment or two. Then, "Okay. Done."

You didn't buy it. "Just like that?"

"Let's say I've learned my lesson."

What a lesson that was.

"And stay away from Wanda Maximoff. I don't want you anywhere near that woman," you told her.

An even longer pause. "Done."

"I'm serious." You pulled away and looked her in the eyes. Made it loud and clear that you meant every word. "I'm as pissed at her as you are, but this is not a battle you can win. There are other witches. You don't need her power."

"Like I said: done."

"Promise me."

Because she never broke a promise to you. Not a single one.

Agatha gave a small nod. "I promise."

And, finally, you believed her.

You let out a sigh of relief. Another concern lifted.

"You're sure you're okay?" you asked, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt. Why did the tears keep coming? What was wrong with you?

"I'm peachy. All things considered."

"You're here. You're alive. You're safe. That's all that matters, " you said. "You can replenish your power."

"And how long's that gonna take?" she retorted, frustrated at the situation she'd found herself in. Frustrated af you for making sense when all she wanted to do was rant and whine.

"However long it does, you'll get it back."

"And until then, what? I'm supposed to frolic around, cosplaying as a human?"

"It's not like you'll be alone." If she thought you were going anywhere, she was gravely mistaken.

"Without my power, I'm a target."

God knew she had plenty of enemies — as well as a toxic ex — to hide from.

You raised a hand, fingers wiggling as magic crackled between them. "Like I said, you're not alone."

Agatha allowed a small smile to creep onto her mouth.

You returned it. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

That was your promise to her.

You had every intention of keeping it.

"I know you won't." She hated saying it, hated being the one being protected instead of the protector, but she knew she could count on you. She knew you would do anything for her.

You'd shielded her from the Scarlet Witch. You were terrified, scared to the bone, but you did it because you loved her. Because you wanted to keep her safe.

You were ready to die for her.

She couldn't have been in better hands.

"If you want, I can give you some of my power," you offered.

It was a risk; Agatha couldn't control herself when she siphoned, couldn't stop until she drained her target dry.

Maybe she could learn. Maybe you could stop her.

You were willing to take that chance.

Apparently, she was not. "Absolutely not!" She said, appalled, mortified at the mere suggestion. Her face contorted into what looked like pure, unadulterated distaste. "Are you out of your mind? I would kill you!"

"Maybe I can stop you."

"How? With the power of love? Will there be rainbows and unicorns and sprinkles of fairy dust? Will we hold hands and sing Kumbaya while I'm sucking the life out of you?"

Maybe.

Who was to say that wouldn't work?

"We'll figure something out," you said, shrugging as if this didn't bother you a single bit. As if it would be easy to change part of Agatha's nature that she'd never gotten under control in all her centuries on this earth in a few short days.

"Yeah. I'll find witches to drain. There, I figured it out," she said sternly.

"I don't like the idea of you being powerless." Even if it was her fault. Getting her ass kicked for it, for involving you in the shenanigans against your will, you could deal with. But this was too much.

It hurt to see her like this.

"I'm not awfully partial to that idea, either, but the prospect of killing you doesn't lift my spirits as much as you might think."

"Fine," you relented, defeated. Agatha may not have her power anymore, but her tongue remained as sharp as ever. You doubted even the Scarlet Witch's brainwashing would have dulled it. "When you say it like that."

"Y/N, I mean it. Do not blast me."

"I won't."

"If you do, I won't be able to stop, and I will kill you."

"I know, Agatha. I've seen you do it. I know what happens."

"I would hope you would after two centuries, but obviously I need to paint a clearer picture."

"You don't get to be mad at me," you said petulantly. You were one step away from stomping your foot. "I'm still mad at you. And I want another hug, but I'm not gonna ask for it because you're being a bitch."

She gasped dramatically. "Oh, no. Whatever will I do now?"

You rolled your eyes. Then, with a thought of, Fuck it, you threw your arms around her and held on for dear life. Life was too short to stay angry for long. Especially when you were with Agatha. No time in the world would ever be enough to have her in your life. Why waste it on petty arguments?

Her hands were on your back instantly, an instinct she'd grown into over the centuries of your relationship. When you held her, she leaned in. When you needed her, she reached for you. When you hugged her, she hugged back.

"I love you, you silly girl," you said softly, each word straight from the heart.

"Right back at you, angel," she said. Equally earnest. Equally honest. "So stop this talk of giving me your power."

"I just wanna take care of you." That was all you ever wanted.

Having her be so vulnerable, so exposed was killing you. What if something happened when you were away? What if someone hurt her and you weren't there to protect her?

"You already have," Agatha told you. "I wouldn't be here now if it wasn't for you. That's more than I could have ever asked for."

"I couldn't let her have you."

The mere thought of the Scarlet Witch was enough for your fingers to crackle with magic. You willed it back, shoved the anger down. There would be time for a tantrum later. Preferably when you didn't have your arms around a magic siphoner who couldn't control herself.

Offering her your power — your life — was a terrible idea. You didn't want to risk your life. You didn't want to die.

All you wanted was for Agatha to be okay. You wanted her to be that powerful witch whom everyone feared again. She'd worked too hard to earn that reputation for it to go to waste.

What could you possibly do for her? You were an average witch, at best. Nobody feared you. Few people even respected you.

How could you look after Agatha like that?

"I know, sugar." She pulled back from the hug, then pressed her forehead to yours. Her lips curled in a smile you knew all too well, the kind she always flashed when the mood was low and she wanted to bring it up for there was no use dwelling on the bad when there was so much more good ahead — figuratively speaking, of course. "That was you taking care of me. Now, leave the rest to me."

"Okay." You still weren't a hundred percent on board with this plan, but you trusted her. Agatha had never let you down before. If she wanted to take charge, so be it. Within reason. "But I still volunteer as your bodyguard. Until you power up again."

"I was thinking more in terms of you being my pet," she teased.

Two could play this game. "Considering the roles you choose in the bedroom, I'd say you're more my pet than I've ever been yours."

"Keyword being choose, honey. I can just as easily make different choices."

Color you intrigued. "Is that a promise?"

She smirked wickedly, like she knew you liked. "It's a threat."

"Consider me properly terrified," you played along.

She lifted your chin up with a finger, her nail grazing your skin. Gentle, yet firm. Hot and cold. "Good girl."

That alone was enough to send a shockwave through you.

God, you wanted her. Here, on this dirty ground. In muddy puddles and piles of leaves and branches. Just like back in the day, when you'd first gotten together.

Back then, the location didn't matter; what mattered was the moment, and that you'd used it to the fullest. Dirt, filth, taint, all irrelevant, ignored.

What a honeymoon phase that was.

Fuck!

Agatha may have been powerless, but she still had you under her control. She always did, and always would.

And, to be honest, you didn't want for that to change.

That power was what attracted you to her in the first place.

It wasn't her magic that made you want her, desire her, crave her like an addict chasing their high.

It was her.

Just her.

"I suppose being your pet isn't that bad," you conceded. Understatement of the century. "Honestly, anything is better than being your daughter."

Agatha shrugged. "Our options were limited."

"I'll never let you forget you made me do that."

"Made you? I made it perfectly clear that you could stay inside."

"And do what? Play hide and seek with that weirdo you cast as your husband?"

The truth was, you wanted to stay by her side to make sure she was okay at all times. You didn't yet know what Wanda was, but you could tell she was bad news. Her magic just smelled like trouble.

So you kept Agatha safe, more for your piece of mind than hers.

Until she'd told you to stay back and had ended up humiliated and defeated.

Agatha raised an eyebrow. "Is that jealousy I'm hearing?"

What was there to be jealous of? The guy was hot, you had to give him that, but he was nothing to her. It was strictly business. No pleasure for anyone involved. "Annoyance, actually. I couldn't stand that guy."

This prompted her to laugh, heartily. A stereotypical witch cackle you always teased her about, that she loved bringing out for the sheer drama of it.

"Speaking of," she said, cutting the laughter short, "someone needs to go get Señor Scratchy."

Right.

Her rabbit.

You knew you'd forgotten something.

"I'll go get him tomorrow," you said. You held up a finger in warning. "By myself."

Agatha raised her hands defensively. "I promised I'm not going back there. I'm a woman of my word."

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

She pouted. "I resent that implication."

You pecked her on the lips, which prompted her to curl them into a smile. One of those cute ones you could never get enough of.

"Come on," you said. "Let's go rent a room."

There was bound to be a hotel nearby. It didn't have to be rated highly, or be in the best neighborhood. All the two of you needed was a safe place to sleep for a few days, until you figured out what to do next.

Until Agatha felt comfortable in her skin again.

She could play nonchalant all she wanted; you knew it was killing her that she didn't have her power anymore. That she was this close to losing her mind along with it. She was one wrong step, one wrong word away from a full-on breakdown, and you needed for that to happen somewhere warm and safe. You needed for there to be a bath you could run for her, and a bed you could hold her in.

You needed for there to be a soft place for her to land on.

"Slight problem: you suck at mind control," Agatha said.

You gave her a look that threatened murder.

"No offense."

All possible offense.

She wasn't wrong, though. You'd ever quite gotten the grasp on it, no matter how many times she'd showed you how to do it. The few times you'd managed to get it working, it hadn't held for longer than mere hours.

It was easier for everyone involved for Agatha to do it.

And now she couldn't.

"I have a credit card, remember?" you said.

"It will eventually run out," she pointed out.

"I just need it for a few days. Until you teach me how to do proper mind control."

"Those lessons never stuck."

"Well, now they'll have to, won't they?" There was no better time to learn a new skill than when you had no other options. Desperate times called for desperate measures. "Until we find you some witches to drain."

Agatha sighed dramatically. "Honey, what would you do without me?"

You would probably be under much less stress.

But you didn't mind it. You loved your life with her in it. Even when she got herself into life or death situations, and put you in positions you never wanted to be in.

You loved her, through thick and thin, and good and bad.

You loved what the two of you had.

You wouldn't trade it for the world.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @miss-moon-guardian @hermslore @uniquelesbianidiot @natashamaximoff1 @alsoknownasmel @swan-queen-is-magic @tardisesandtitans @ahintofchaos @fruityhahn

[silverflqmes]

໒⦂ 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄.

synopsis. in which a ménage a trois is had with the savior of the planet — otherwise, your boyfriend, and the calamity personified.

genre. nsfw

tw. threesome, sefikura ( yes, you read that correctly. so if you are not comfortable with the pairing, just click off now cuz this isn’t for you ), penetration ( vaginal for the reader, anal for cloud ), praise, edging, rough sex, virginity loss, false sympathy, choking, bottom-ish cloud ( if you’re uncomfy, again just leave pls. ), overstimulation, corruption.

disclaimer. uncomfortable with smut or younger than 17? please dni.

notes. tysm for 500 followers guys! it’s a little unreal to me still since i was only at 200 or smtn before writing for ff7 so like😭 yeah.. anyway, take this in return, aka me going completely out of what i normally do and giving into intrusive thoughts because some of you guys miraculously agreed with my 2am ideas..

sephiroth x cloud strife x fem!reader.

“good, cloud..” sephiroth whispered into the shell of his killer’s ear, nuzzling into the blond, unruly locks that tickled his skin. “very good.. her wails for release are most pleasant, aren’t they?”

said male’s hips stuttered like his uneven breathing had at the praise, nearly spilling his load right then and there into your ever-welcoming heat.

gaia, he hated how much of a sucker he was for such, it was humiliatingly weakening, especially when it came from him.. but he couldn’t let go just yet. not with the series of explicit instructions he’d received beforehand.

instructions that echoed in the all-too-familiar velvety voice throughout the confines of his mind. hardly any different from every other time it spoke, had it not been for that sultry undertone this time around.

a timbre that was slowly beginning to get to the self proclaimed ex-SOLDIER. in more ways than one, he feared. "s-shut up!” he spat despite the betraying rouge coloring his freckled skin. “i know what i'm doing. i don’t..” a hitch. “need you to tell me shit.." he breathed out, watching through half-lidded eyes as your head lolled back into the pillow, grabbing fistfuls of cotton while you waited for release, too.

..because sephiroth said not yet.

cloud didn’t know how, nor did he want to know how, but the highly anticipated first time sex he was blindly walking into seemed.. to have invited a rather unexpected visitor to teach him a lesson on pleasure. a phantom guest, as one might say, who just so happened to have the potential to destroy the planet at any given chance.

otherwise, his greatest nemesis.

a nemesis that was now demonstrating on him how to fuck his beloved girlfriend, rather than ending her very life.

and what was your take on your boyfriend quite literally being made into a canvas?

“f-faster, please, cloud!”

well, it's not everyday you lose your virginity to the savior and threat of the planet all at the same time. it felt like a crime to refuse something so delectable.

so who were you to say no? a little risk and tension added that perfect kick to the whole experience. the cherry on top, and you were ready to savor it.

the planet would be fine, surely. gaia and jenova could hold their tongues for an hour or few.

tilting his head, the bringer of calamity offered a small smirk. "do you, now? your beloved seems to have a plea.. she might want to share how close she is..” came his hushed observation, paired with a particularly harsh jerk of hips into his rival’s rear. “how in need she is of finally letting that coil snap within her.." he added fondly, pleased with the choked gasp that entered his ears as his eyes caught your hazy stare. "isn't that right, y/n?"

a soft whimper was all that was able to leave your lips because it was true. besides, what could you say with an orgasm so close, yet so far away, anyway?

aside from cries for mercy, of course.

"'m really close..” you mustered after a few sharp intakes of air, shaking your head weakly. “c-can't hold on for much longer, though." you added quietly, fighting the urge to cave at the sight of those mischief glinted jades. part of you wondered how cloud was able to even resist the owner while being given that kind of look in battle. you’d probably throw in your weapon right then and there while waving that tiny white flag seen in old cartoons.

perhaps cloud was simply just.. used to it.

although, that didn't mean he didn't hesitate from time to time.

"poor thing.." sephiroth acknowledged in a soft coo, trailing a hand down your thigh in a feather-light manner that elicited shivers. even amidst the sweltering heat. "while i did say to hold out, i have reason to believe it will be more fun to take your rightful release from cloud.. he looks to be faltering by the second." he prompted lightly, holding your gaze whilst his lips traveled down the jugular of his rival to the curve of his shoulder. “perhaps you’ll fix that, hm?”

and as if to confirm his statement, the former hero dragged himself out completely before sheathing the blond again to the hilt. once more in that same, abrupt manner that now had a symphony of noises tumbling free of suppression from his lips.

each one more erotic than the last, somehow. so very lewd, as you’d never heard such pitiful sounds spill from your boyfriend's mouth.. but undeniably pleasing to the ears. a mellifluous string of gasps and moans you weren’t even aware he could produce. and sephiroth was pulling them out like it was just another tuesday.

no wonder he had wanted to hear cloud so badly during their fights.

spurred on by sheer fervor and curiosity, you found yourself feeding into the one winged angel’s suggestion, "how exactly would i.. ngh- be able to do t-that..?"

mako tinted emeralds sparked with intrigue. “oh, it’s quite simple, really-”

"s-sephiroth!" cloud cut through another groan, glowering warningly at his foe like an offended kitten. it was more adorable than it was intimidating, as were all the other glares thrown his way. maybe on the battlefield and with more clothes on, it might have been taken more seriously.

here, however?

it only earned him a snort.

the villain in question simply couldn’t be bothered by such, not with that contradicting flush adorning his killer’s cheeks. just who did he think he was fooling when his body evidently betrayed his words?

"hush now, cloud." sephiroth ordered softly, tapping his sunkissed throat with two leather clad fingers. daringly. "your manners are lacking considerably. y/n here has asked me a question, it is rude to interrupt your own significant other.” he reprimanded smartly, giving the lightest squeeze — which was apparently still fatal enough if that was in fact a whine that entered his all-hearing ears.

cute.

but not convincing enough. “you'll just have to wait your turn." the former general finished in his ear, nipping down on the cartilage before shifting his eyes back to your flustered self. "now then, where were we? ah, yes.” he chuckled, patting down on cloud’s thigh. “climb onto your lover’s lap."

“climb onto his..” heat rushed to your cheeks almost instantly at the suggestion. 

truthfully, it wasn't like you hadn't done that before, but seeing the pathetic state your boyfriend had been in now.. that quivering, whiny mess. you could only imagine just how far sephiroth was willing to go.

apparently, all the way.

his sapphire hues were practically glimmering with tears already from the simulation he was both giving and receiving. all he needed was to be ridden to come completely undone.

you swallowed unconsciously.

so this was the villain you were told of.

honestly, he was hotter than he was annoying or endangering, or however way cloud had described him.

although tempting, incredibly tempting.

that part of you that wanted to go easy on your partner and stay in the position you were in was practically swallowed up by the malicious glint in the calamity incarnate’s eyes. it pitifully won the favor of your other half with ease, coaxing you into sweet, delectable oblivion.

one that became increasingly difficult to withstand.

shuddering at the tremble in your legs, you pushed yourself up despite the burning sensation in your thighs, letting out a strained exhale at the stretch it caused. “sorry cloud..”

a stuttered noise left the blond's lips as he reclined against his enemy's front, rolling his head back against the plush, yet firm chest behind him. were pectorals meant to feel so cozy? or was it simply his fogged up mind?

regardless, the smirk on sephiroth’s rosewood lips seemed to grow at the nuzzle of gold fluff on his bared skin, and furthermore at your willingness. it was.. amusing, to say the least.

cloud, as it turned, was even more delightful up close. pink dusted skin, furrowed brows, watery eyes — truly a sight.

unable to hold yourself back, you brought your lips together for a chaste kiss, mewling into his mouth at the alarmed buck his lower half gave. it was sudden, without calculation, risky, and divine all at once; enough to remind you of your impending climax. but that, again, could wait.

it had to.

warmth brushed and enveloped your tongue, imploring you to suck down on it, which you eagerly did, peppermint flooding your senses. was toothpaste meant to taste this good?

breaking away, if only to keep yourself from diving right back in with the intent of never breathing again, you were allowed a second of air, and only a second.. before your appendages were claimed by a second pair.

and fuck.. they were as soft as they looked from afar. frigid, yet strangely passionate for the nemesis your lover had described him to be. your mind dared to call it delicate.. until it wasn’t. gentle seconds became half a feverish minute as your eyes fluttered shut, allowing yourself to melt to his flame completely.

icarus flew too close to the sun, well you flew right for the caller of meteor, and clung even as your feathers became ash. uncaring of the way he seared your lips with sin, liquid silver tickling your cheeks like a sheen of mercury.

sadly, your lungs did care.

before any worries of your life quite possibly being stolen and swallowed up by the darkness personified, his lips were torn from yours.. and roughly reclaimed by none other than your boyfriend’s.

it took longer than necessary to register the exchange, with you utterly enraptured by the sight of cloud so.. bothered and lustful, as opposed to his usual composed and indifferent self.

meanwhile sephiroth reciprocated the kiss in full, chuckling at the taste of his own ichor spilled across his bottom lip as his adversary drank like a mortal parched. in return, he gave his tongue a sudden nip, musing at the quiet hiss that allowed him a metallic flavored sample of his own. fair was fair, after all.

in his opinion, anyway.

a knowing look amidst the violent lip lock was your cue to regather yourself, bringing your clammy hands to the curves of the former merc’s shoulders. no going back now.

slowly, your hips lifted just slightly, never missing the twitch against your insides as you lowered them at that same pace with a sigh.

the moan that tore through cloud’s throat was pleasant — encouraging. it beseeched you to repeat your ministrations; faster, sloppier- if only to hear and feel more of your beloved.

sephiroth was no stranger and rolled his own front against the man his life became so intimately intertwined with, devouring every sound that entered his greedy mouth. “such a good boy..” he whispered after detaching from his crimson stained lips, nuzzling into the other’s neck. “taking us so well..”

“f-fuck, haaaahhh~ can’t-!” cloud gasped out, arching pathetically against the toned body behind him. “can’t..!!”

a curious brow lifted. “can’t what, cloud?” the silver haired male hummed out, flitting his eyes to yours. “ask him to reiterate, won’t you, y/n?”

vision blurred, you peered over at your partner through blurry eyes, barely able to hold even yourself together. the words came out somehow anyway, albeit spluttered. “s-say it clearer, cloud — fuck!” you cursed, throwing your head back. “please..!!”

and that was the final straw. as though in slow motion, the ex-SOLDIER gave a finishing thrust before a rush of warmth enveloped his cock, trickling between the mixture of limbs like liquid ivory. 

it didn’t stop there, however, as a chorus of pants joined the no longer withdrawn whines of your lover. meanwhile his enemy nailed his prostate with acute precision several more times before meeting his own climax.

sephiroth gave the smile of a feline satisfied with its work. cloud completely undone alongside his lover and the most satisfying of cries to fill his ears? it wasn’t the same as bringing the planet to its knees and under his rule, but the outcome was just as euphoric.

if not more, certainly at the sight of the his seed trickling out of the bruised hole of his dearest adversary. part of him was almost tempted to fuck right it back into him, but the night was young. time was bountiful.

especially for punishment. “mm.. that reply was no good..” the former first commented softly, tilting his head after a contemplative hum before allowing a smile to cross his lips. “but, not to worry.” he chuckled when the blond looked up at him like a deer in headlights, caressing his cheek ever so gently. “y/n and i shall keep going until you get it right, won’t we, y/n?”

willing your eyes to open, you glanced between the pair before falling back against the pillow, staring unblinkingly. “i’m calling in sick tomorrow..”

notes. my bad y’all this.. required a lot of brainpower as expected</3 but i hope it’s somewhat ok! i’ve been hella swamped w moving and orientation, so i’m a bit late on releasing this for the 500 followers gift.. but yeah! tysm again for your support<3

tag list. @demial4 , @rottingiron , @shibarinu0000 && ofc 🎐 anon if you see this<3

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[obxthornton]

Ladylike (Wolverine/Logan x Fem!Reader)

Wolverine X Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N just wants to be a little more "ladylike" for Logan.

Warnings: Cursing, light Dom reader and Sub Logan, Subjective use of what 'ladylike' is. 

WC: 2335

I had never been particularly fond of making myself look nice, especially on missions. Saving the world wasn't for the weak and was definitely not for a full face of makeup. By the end of the day, you would have mascara and eyeliner dripping down your face along with blood. It was simply easier not to get dolled up. Sure when I went out to the bars or to dinner I looked nice. Full faces of makeup were for those kind of things. Fighting and killing, however, not so much.

But here I was, applying mascara to my eyelashes while Wade banged on the door. "Princess, saving the world can't wait for you much longer!" He yelled kindly, but banging on the door again. "And I certainly can wait to piss either." I sighed dropping my makeup back in my bag and unlocking the door. "Thank you peanut," Wade said pressing a kiss to my cheek before pulling down his pants to piss, not waiting for me to leave.

"Woah. Park it fancy fuck." Wade said as I was leaving. I didn't turn around but I did stay in the doorway. Sounds of his urinating filled the bathroom. "What?" I asked rolling my eyes at my roommate.  "You got shit on your face. And not the normal shit. Date night shit. All over. False advertisement right there. And your tits our out. Mind telling me who you got all dolled up for?" Wade flushed the toilet and I walked out of the room, him following. "Drop it asshole," I said zipping up my suit higher and grabbing my guns from the counter, making sure the clips were full and stuffing them in my side holsters. I grabbed my knives next, checking them over.

Last week Wade and I had spent long hours discussing the housing arrangement if I were to get a partner. "What do you mean a partner? What's wrong with me? Your sexual, emotional, and fighting partner?"  I rolled my eyes at his words, "Shut the hell up Wade, you'll scare all my options away." Wade had scoffed and motioned around the room, "Wolvie isn't here, you are fine. Besides, you're scaring him away yourself." I narrowed my eyes at the man, my arms crossed. "What the hell do you mean?" Wade simply shrugged, kicking his feet as he sat on the couch. "Wolvie wants a lady, not some killer who will keep him on a leash for all of eternity." I used my foot to kick his leg, "I am a lady!"  Wade shrugged, "Only where it counts. You are a dominant entity and that's okay!! I'm very much into that. Logan likes a nice ladylike woman." I told him to shut up, but his words stuck a little more than I had hoped.

The door to our apartment swung open revealing a pissed off man. A pissed off man who looked at me and shoved a finger in my face. "You take too long." He stated. My eyes were big staring up at the man. Logan had become my weakness lately, a weakness I didn't even know I had. I was always bossy and blunt, never taking a liking to trying to impress or be giddy around a man. But Logan. It was like I couldn't help but never know what to say. My mouth went dry and my heart sped up and I'm sure he could hear it. It was only him. He was the only exception. I snapped out of it, pushing his finger away with a knife, "Cool it Wolv boy."

"She was getting all ladylike for you. That's why she took so long," Wade said behind me. I turned around and plunged the knife into his stomach. "Shut the hell up, Wade," I muttered twisting it lightly. "Aren't you just a kinky Son of a gun? A little longer of this and I'll probably cum."  I rolled my eyes and pulled the knife out, wiping it on my suit. "I hate you," I muttered. "Oo that's the spot." Rolling my eyes once again I turned back to Logan, shoving my knife in the strap. "Come on."

Wade knew about my soft spot for Logan. The day that we had encountered him, Wade had introduced himself and I stayed silent, eyes wide. Wade had wrapped his arm around my shoulder, "Lots of knocks to the head. She may be immortal but she still has a lot of scaring up there. She goes by Y/N, and you'll love her once you get over the hatred in her heart-" I cut him off by pushing his arm off, turning around slowly, and death glaring at Wade. "My time to stay quiet." He mumbled, sighing, and walking away. Logan had looked down at me, smiling, "If you can make him shut up like that every time, we'll get along just fine." 

I walked out the door, not seeing if the boys were following. I let out a sigh of relief to avoid an awkward situation. I silently cursed myself however for stabbing Wade, that wasn't very ladylike. I suddenly became aware of my body. Was any of it ladylike? Was my ass big enough, was my waist thin enough. I had never once in my life worried about any of this stuff. Never in my life had I ever felt insecure or uncomfortable in my skin. I mean I never had to, Wade kept the compliments flooding for miles. Always pushing that boundary of workplace harassment. 

"Pissed isn't a good look on you with all that cake on your face." Wade's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I didn't turn to look at him, but sent my fist out, punching him in the cheek. "Ow princess. That's not very nice. Or ladylike in front of Wolvie over there." I stopped in my tracks and turned to Wade, pulling my knife out of my pocket and showing him against the brick wall next to us. I held the knife up to his face, my forearm against his throat. "You need to shut the fuck up about all of this! If I hear one more goddamn word about any of this I swear I'm going to make you wish you could die, you hear me?" I yelled at the boy, shoving him deeper and deeper into the wall. I could practically see Wade's smile under his mask. It pissed me off. I shoved my knife into his chest before I was ripped away from him.  "What the hell has gotten into you today?" Logan yelled shoving me away from Wade. I was aware of everything again. If it was anyone else, anyone else, I would take them on and slice them up. But this was Logan.  His eyes pierced my soul and his face was daring, asking me to punch that look right off of him. But I didn't, "get out of my way," I huffed pushing past him.

-

The day had been long. I desired to go back to my room and take a shower, washing off the sin of today. Blood and dirt caked into my skin and on my suit, the black color speckled with red. I had tuned out Wade's comments or he had stopped saying them, I wasn't sure. 

When we got back to the apartment, Wade pushed past me and Logan, causing us both to stumble. "Dibs on shower!" He yelled racing into the bathroom and locking the door as if we would try to fight him for it. I sighed knowing I was too tired to do such a thing. I grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the top cabinet in my kitchen before going over the couch and stretching over it. I flicked off the cap, sending it flying to the other side of the room before I put the bottle lip to lips and took a long sip. I felt the alcohol seep into my system, making my wounds feel a tad better. 

Logan came over and looked at the side of the couch displeasingly before he pushed my legs off and sat down. I moved my legs back on top of his lap and took another sip of the bottle before passing it to him. He pushed my legs off of him with one hand as he brought the bottle up to his lips. "No." He stated. I sighed and sat up. "So what's actually up with you?" He asked out of the blue. I grabbed the bottle from him and took a long sip. "Nothing," I said defensively. Logan rolled his eyes, "I may be old, but I'm not stupid. You've been letting shithead get on your nerves a lot more these days." I shrugged and poured more of the liquid into my mouth. "He annoying." Logan chuckled, "Yes I know." He grabbed the bottle back and leaned on the couch arm, spreading his legs. "Come on. We can't have you like this. What's in that head of yours?" 

I sighed praying that the alcohol would seep into my bloodstream. "He's been saying I need to be more ladylike," I muttered looking down at my spread legs before crossing them. "Who the hell cares about that?" Logan said as if that was the dumbest thing he had ever heard. "I've been on this earth for 150 years. And not once, not once have I ever cared about what a man thinks about me." I said, taking a long sip from the bottle, "but then I met you. And suddenly I cared about everything. I cared about how you perceived me because for some reason you're perfect. Some fucked up joke it is. Never caring about what men thought of me because they were just so inferior and mortal." I chuckled and drank out of the bottle again, "Yet you, you're just like me. Stuck with this curse of caring forever. And I'll drink to that." 

Logan shook his head and grabbed the bottle before it hit my lips, "you aren't making any sense y/n." I groaned and leaned my head back, "You're hot Logan! You're hot and you fuel all my daddy and abandonment issues. Is that what you want me to say? It's gods sick joke that you made me for me down to the T of even being fucking immortal, yet we won't be together." Logan scoffed. Scoffed. As if what I said was completely unheard of and a challenge. "Why not?" His voice filled with anger as if I had just spoken insane claims. "Because lo, I know your type. Your type is not the girl who could kill you, it's the girl that says yes sir and has you dinner made for when you get home." 

He scoffed at those words and stated defensively, "Stop acting like you know me. you know nothing about me y/n." I rolled my eyes at him, grabbed the knife from my belt, and leaned over Logan. I pressed the knife against his throat and looked at him, my legs around his waist as I did. "Come on Logan." I said "This is not attractive. This is not the kind of person you want to get with." I huffed pressing the knife lightly against his skin. Logan's eyes pierced into mine, his hands resting on my back as if to hold me still. One hand reached up and placed it on top of me, pushing the knife deeper into his neck. "Everyone is attracted to you bub." Logan said narrowing his eyes lightly at me."You think everyone is joking when they say things like that because of Wade's fucked up humor, but he's not even joking when he says those things to you." A smirk covered his face, "Wade would fuck you in a heartbeat. Anyone would bub." His eyes narrowed at me lightly. "The knife's cute. You stab Wade all the time with it. It's like you forget I can regenerate too."

It felt like I didn't even drink half a bottle of whiskey because I suddenly realized what was happening. I was straddling the Wolverine with one of his hands on my ass and the other pushing the knife into his neck. "You are crazy Logan." He cocked an eyebrow at me and smiled, "What's crazy is you think you aren't attractive for being strong. Being powerful. This. This is sexy." My eyes were wide, "what did you just say to me?" I asked, trying to move my hand away from his throat and my legs off of him, but his grasp around me stayed firm. His eyes stared up at me, "You are so strong and powerful y/n, it's so hot." Logan said, "I can't be worried if my girl going to be killed or hurt because she can't defend herself. I need someone like you. I need you." He finally let go of my hand and I let it fall to his chest. "oh yeah?" I cooed at the man as I leaned my head down. Logan bit the top of his bottom lip, a smile coming across his face, he nodded. I brushed my bottom lip over his top, smiling lightly. Logan leaned his head up, capturing his lips in mine. Deepening the kiss, I grabbed the back side of his neck, pulling him into me. His stubble burned against my face, it felt so good.

"Are you guys done yet? That was so nice to watch. Needed after a long shower." Wade said, a towel wrapped around his torso and his head. I threw my knife across the room, letting it impale Wade's chest. He looked down at it, flicking it. "Not ladylike Ms. y/n." I rolled my eyes at his comment. He smiled and walked away towards his room. "Asshole," I muttered under my breath. His head popped back over the corner, "ladylike." He said. I threw my other knife straight at where his face was, he screamed but he moved out of the way, leaving it to stick in the wall. Logan smirked, "cute."

[unluckilyimnot]

Hi! I saw your prompt list post and was wondering if i could please request like an umemiya hajime story with the prompts 9 and 11? thank you so so much and have a lovely day/night!<333

9 "Come and kiss me” + 11 "tell me you love me" with umemiya 

m.list | rules | from this

note: hiii thank you sm for participating ! i hope it's fine and that you like it ! <3

When Umemiya realized he went too far, it was already too late. He's been teasing you for the last twenty minutes, about something as stupid as you mispronouncing a word. It was funny at first, you honestly laughed at your mistake but when you started to glare at him to stop ; he should've. 

Now you were sitting on the other side of the room, headphones on and you were scrolling through your social media without even looking at him. He deserved it, he knows that and he also knows how petty you can be. He played with fire. 

Yet, he's rather stubborn himself and when he wants to apologize – he will. It doesn't matter if you don't want to hear about it, because you will. 

“Baby, I'm sorry. Really. Come, kiss me and we can forget about it.” He tried at first, simply walking to you to lay on the floor, next to your legs, with puppy eyes. 

He knows you heard him because you couldn't keep your face straight, a small frown showed for a second before you came back to normal. 

“Oh you'd rather me kissing you ? It would be fair,” He mimed to think about it before a false smile showed on his face.

Without being able to do anything about it, Umemiya's huge body was now resting in yours, choking you a little at first before he stood up on his arms. He's got a shit eating grin on his lips and he would never stop until he, in fact, kissed you. And with him on top of you, he knows he's gonna win anyway. 

You dodged it a few times before he grabbed your face and laid a small peck on your lips. You whined in the process but still reciprocated it, not able to resist the familiar feeling of his chapped lips. You pulled your headphones away while staring at him. He's still flashing you his sorry puppy eyes to make you weak, knowing damn well how it works on him ; but you still don't say anything. He ends up dropping all his weight on you again.

“Please,” He whined. “Tell me you love me. Don't ignore me.” 

“You won't make fun of me like this again ?” You asked, more as a warning than a question and he nodded actively, looking at you desperately. You kissed his lips again. 

“Ok then, I love you Ume.” you said with a resign yet happy smile, and he was glad he could still consider you as his partner – but maybe he’s just a tiny bit dramatic.

[watermelonlovershigh]

Drunk Fighting and Forgiveness {part. 11} (housemate!harry series)

"Do you love me?" {part. 10} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

AN: i normally dislike writing angst but i gotta say, this was fun to write. so if you're into angst you'll love this. enjoy and make sure to reblog and leave your feedback. xoxo

This story contains: drinking alcohol, angst, lying, mentions of past hookups (m/m), jealousy, accusations of homophobia, apologies, forgiveness (kinda)

{ housemate!harry - boyfriend!harry - softrry - bi!harry }

word count- 3,027

For a date night, Harry takes you out to a gay bar where secrets of Harry's past are revealed, turning into misunderstandings and drunk arguments.

Several weeks have passed since that memorable night when both of you openly professed your love for one another, and the period leading up to tonight has been nothing short of amazing. You have been immersed in the honeymoon stage of your relationship; enjoying cozy moments, lots of sex, and regular date nights scheduled at least once a week. The only disagreements you've had were minor, such as Harry occasionally forgetting to put the toilet seat down or your habit of leaving strands of hair on the shower walls. However, that changes tonight.

Breaking your normal Friday routine of a movie with Chinese take-out, you decided to go to a local bar down the street. Have some drinks and dance a little. While you were in the bathroom getting ready, you shouted to Harry, "So which bar are we going to again?"

Harry was hesitant on telling you because he didn't want you to get upset at him. "Um, it's the one on the corner."

"Harry, there are fifty billion corners in London. Which corner?" You weren't nieve. You could tell Harry was trying to avoid answering and it confused you. Why would he be hiding the name of the bar you're about to go to from you.

Huffing from his stance now in the doorway of the bathroom, he answers, "Fine, it's called The Royal Vauxhall Tavern. It's a gay bar."

(i just choose a random gay bar in London from Google. so idk if this is even a good choice or if i described it accurately on the inside or not. let's pretend.)

"Not that I have anything against gay bars Harry, but why? I'd understand if we weren't dating because I'm sure there's tons of hot men you could find to hook-up with. But we are dating, so..... it's just an odd choice."

With a soft tone, Harry enters the bathroom and lovingly cups your cheeks in his large hands, reassuringly saying, "Sweetheart, you're overthinking it. It's just a bar. I've been there in the past and know firsthand that the customer service and music are fantastic. That's why I picked it, alright? Nothin' more than that." However, you soon come to realize that this assertion is completely false.

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

As you entered the bar, it was very nice inside. There were tons of people on the dance floor and several people at the bar. Harry held your hand and walked you over to the two unoccupied seats at the bar so you could order some drinks. You've never been in a gay bar before. Mostly because before Harry, anytime you went out to bars or clubs you were looking for a hook-up and you're sure a gay bar isn't the place for a women to find that.

Right as you sit down, a handsome looking man comes up to you both and recognizes Harry immediately. "Harry, mate, what are you doing back in here? Haven't seen you in ages."

You glance over to see Harry smiling from ear to ear. "Hello, Henry. Hope you're well. Yeah, I've just been busy with work and stuff." That's odd, he didn't even mention you.

"So, who's the lovely lady sitting beside you?" the bartender who's name is Henry, you just discovered, asked.

You were going to answer for yourself when Harry cuts you off, replying, "Oh, m' girlfriend, Y/n. Been datin' officially for about two months now."

Henry looks back to you again and speaks rather loudly due to the blaring music, "Well, hello, Y/n. Welcome. What can I get you two to drink tonight? Your usual, Harry?" So he remembers Harry's drink order.... Interesting.

"Yep, coke and rum and what would you like, Y/n?"

Thinking for a moment, you stick to what you know best. "I'll have a vodka cran, please."

Henry smiles, assuring, "Okay, a coke and rum and a vodka cran coming right up." You and Harry sat there and watched as he made your beverages. The whole time you still had this awful pit in your stomach like something was off but you ignored it, not wanting to spoil your night out with Harry.

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

Having reached your third glass of alcohol, you and Harry have been alternating between dancing and sitting for the past hour. You will admit that you feel somewhat safer in a gay bar, where the likelihood of unwanted attention or being drugged seems lower. Not impossible, just lower.

As you both return to your original seats at the bar, Harry mentions over the loud music that he needs to use the bathroom and tells you to remain seated. Despite his reluctance to let you out of his sight, his bladder cannot wait.

While Harry's gone to the toilet, Henry comes over to you and gets you a refill on your drink. When he returns with a full glass, he begins, "So, Harry, hm. He's lovely isn't he?"

You stare back at him with that pit in your stomach returning. "Um, yeah, he is. How do you know each other again?" Henry never mentioned how he knew Harry and Harry has never mentioned a Henry before either.

"Oh, we go way back. He use to come in here all the time back in his college days, when he was figuring out his sexuality. He didn't have a lot of money to pay for his drinks so I'd cut him a deal if you know what I mean."

"I'm sorry, guess I don't know what you mean." you respond, confused as to what he's trying to get at.

Henry chuckles and proceeds to elaborate, "Back in his uni days when Harry wanted to indulge in alcohol but lacked the funds, he would bring me along to the toilets and give me blowjobs. That's how he managed to cover the cost of his drinks. Although we never pursued a romantic relationship, I suppose you could say we were friends with benefits for a period of time, perhaps in the year... 201..." His sentence abruptly halts as Harry returns from the bathroom. Unaware of your discussion with Henry, Harry becomes perplexed when both of you gaze at him as if he has an unusual mark on his forehead.

To void the awkward tension, Henry grabs Harry's glass to give him another refill without asking and walks away. You're left there, stunned. Not that you cared what Harry use to do before you got together, but the fact that he brought you here, to this specific bar, where his ex friends with benefits worked, well, you find it kind of odd. Especially now thinking back to earlier when he was hesitant to tell you which bar you were going to.

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

After staying an hour more, you began feeling the urge to leave. The new piece of information has stirred up intense emotions within you. Despite your attempts to mask your anger, every time Henry approached to offer more refills, you couldn't shake the feeling that he was flirting with Harry. The uncomfortable knowledge of their past interactions made it difficult for you to sit and watch.

You briskly walk down the streets with Harry a few feet behind you, trying to catch up to you. You were both pretty drunk but not so drunk you couldn't walk straight. Just too drunk to drive. Hence why you're walking home. "Y/n, wait up. Is somethin' the matter? You seem mad at me."

You stop abruptly on the sidewalk and turn back to look at your boyfriend. Angerly, you question, "Why did you really bring me to that bar, Harry?"

Confused, Harry begins, "Baby, I've already told....."

"No, I don't believe you. I think it has something to do with that Henry guy. I know what the two of you use to do. He told me while you were in the bathroom."

Harry quietly curses to himself, feeling more ashamed than anything else. He fails to understand why bringing you there was a problem. His current concern is that you are now aware of a secret he had been keeping - the secret of his college partying days. He was poor and had just started exploring his sexuality. So one day when he went into that specific bar, he met Henry and well, you know the rest.

"Y/n, that was years ago. We never dated or anythin'. I really only saw him maybe once every two months. It's not my proudest moment but all my friends could afford to go out partyin' on Friday nights and I couldn't. So I did what I had to do to fit in."

Turning back around to continue walking, you exhale loudly and speak again. "Do you really think I'm angry about that? Because I'm not. I don't give a shit what you use to do before we started our relationship."

Not thinking clearly due to the alcohol running through his system, Harry fights back, "Is it because it was with a man, Y/n? Is this how m' findin' out you're homophobic?"

You come to a halt once more, but remain looking ahead. That hurt. You're not homophobic in the slightest. Unlike the tales Harry has recounted about his previous partners who were unaccepting of his bisexuality, you have always been different. You have consistently shown support for Harry's sexuality since he shared it with you. Initially, you assumed he was gay because during the first few weeks of living together, he only brought men home. However, one day he brought a woman home instead.

Raising your voice slightly, you argue, "I can't believe you're asking if I'm homophobic. You know I have always been a strong advocate for your sexuality. What really irks me is that you deliberately selected that bar for us to visit. The bar where you used to engage in transactions with the bartender to settle your bills. And now, he was the one serving us throughout the evening."

"Y/n, yes I knew he still worked there but I didn't know if he was workin' tonight, let alone he'd be waitin' on us. How was I supposed to know that?"

Underneath a lamp post on the side of the street, you continue to bicker, knowing bystanders are surely watching your drunk dispute. "Whether you did or not, you still choose to bring me there. Just tell me one more thing Harry, did he charge you the full amount for our drinks tonight or did he give you a discount?"

When Harry didn't reply right away, you already knew the answer and resumed your journey towards home. "Y/n, please wait," he quickly catches up to you, "I didn't even ask him to do it. You know I have enough financial stability to pay the full amount now. He simply offered us a discount without any prompting, and I didn't argue against it. But obviously, this time it was just the discount, not any favors in return. I would never do that to you."

You made the decision to remain silent for the remainder of your journey home. The thought of engaging in further arguments no longer appealed to you. All you desired was to change out of your dress and remove your makeup before going to bed. Despite his reluctance, Harry also chose to stay quiet. He ensured that you were by his side throughout the entire walk, fearing that you might unintentionally wander onto the wrong street or encounter a stranger who could potentially harm you. Even with the ongoing conflict, your love for each other remained intact.

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

Upon your arrival home, you immediately proceeded to your bedroom and closed the door behind yourself. Without hesitation, you began changing out of your dress and into more comfortable clothing. Your intentions were to stay in your room for the rest of the night, until the realization hit that there was no bathroom inside your bedroom. So, you're forced to leave your room in order to wash your face and brush your teeth.

Harry settles onto the sofa and quietly thinks about his actions tonight. Reflecting on the situation, he now understands why you feel the way you do. It was inappropriate of him to take you to the bar where he used to sleep with the fucking bartender. Despite all of that, the bar itself had a good reputation. That's why he went there frequently in the past, regardless of his actions there.

Though it's not an excuse, he genuinely didn't know if Henry was working tonight. Harry hasn't communicated with Henry in over eight months and their last sexual encounter was even longer than that. He honestly selected a gay bar for tonight to avoid straight men giving you unwanted attention. He would have gotten jealous. However, he unintentionally caused you to feel jealous, and for that he's deeply sorry.

As you exit your bedroom and make your way to the bathroom, Harry turns his head. He contemplates standing up to apologize, but chooses to delay it until you've finished your business. Meanwhile, he gets up and heads to the kitchen to fetch you a glass of water and a pain reliever for the headache he assumes you'll have in the morning. Just as he's about to finish, you emerge from the bathroom and return to your room.

Hesitantly, Harry walks up to your bedroom door and and knocks softly. Still in your drunk, grumpy state, you shout out, "What?"

"Um, I've got you some water you need to drink and somethin' to help with your impendin' headache."

"Fine, come in." you grant him permission to come in while you remain in bed. As he approaches, carrying a glass of water and a pill, you carefully take the water from his hands, and he places the pill on your nightstand, ensuring you have it in the morning.

When you've drank all you wanted, Harry grabs the glass back from you, setting it down beside your bed and begins saying, "I'd like to apologize."

Wanting to make sure he knows what he's apologizing for, you ask, "For what?"

Harry sits down on the edge of the bed and admits, "M' sorry for takin' you to that particular bar where I used to see the bartender. I honestly didn't realize he'd be workin' tonight, but that's no excuse. I just thought, if I took you to a gay bar that straight men wouldn't hit on you and make me jealous. But that was selfish of me. So again, m' truly sorry, Y/n."

The first part of his apology was fine, but that third sentence reignited your frustration. "Harry, what about you, huh? By us going to a gay bar, I have to face the potential of men flirting with you. But really flirting can occur in any setting, whether it's a gay bar or a straight one. That shouldn't have influenced your choice to go there."

Slapping his hand across his forehead, Harry nods. "I know, I know. M' sorry for that too. I honestly just wanted a fun night out with m' girlfriend but ruined it. Next time I'll let you choose where we go. But just so you know, if I see one of your ex's and they bring up what the two of you use to do, m' gonna be pissed as well." You could tell his last sentence was made with a playful tone, though deep down you know he's being serious.

You release a loud yawn and respond, your voice filled with drowsiness, "Okay, that'll make us even. I'm still a little upset with you though, so it would be best if you left now. Please sleep in your own room tonight." Despite having the thought that you might want to sleep separately, he hoped that after apologizing, you would reconsider. However, your stubbornness proves to be a hindrance, as you are not willing to forgive him that easily.

With a frown on Harry's face, he gets up from the bed and bends down to kiss your forehead before walking out of the room. As he leaves, he reminds you, "If you need anythin', just wake me up. I love you."

He hears a quiet "love you, too" right when he shuts your door and exhales, relieved that you're not mad enough to not say 'I love you' to him. Because if you were, he'd have been devastated,

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

Around four in the morning, you awaken to the realization that sleeping apart was a mistake. You haven't slept apart since before you shared your feelings for one another and you miss him. You miss cuddling with him. Finding out you both were cuddlers was one of the best possible outcomes as you started developing your relationship. It meant you were very compatible in that way.

You get out of bed and head towards Harry's room across the hallway. As quietly as you can, you open his creaky door to find him lying on his side, a pillow hugged to his chest, turned away from you. He's now use to holding you throughout the night, so his pillow had to make do since you rejected him earlier.

Closing the door gently, you approach his bed and carefully peel back the covers, not wanting to disturb his sleep. Harry only wakes up when he senses you moving closer. You carefully pull the pillow out of his arms and replace it with yourself, burying your face in his chest. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around your back once he realizes it's you who's joined him, muttering in a gravelly voice, "Hi, baby."

Still very sleepy, you speak in a whisper, "Shh, sleepy. Just missed you s'all."

"It's okay, m'love. Go back to sleep. You can always cuddle me. Missed your cuddles, too." Harry's half conscious as he spoke but he's aware of what he said. He did miss your cuddles. He had to fight with himself just to stay put in his bed and not slip into yours. He just wanted to respect your wishes and not make you even angrier with him. It only takes mere seconds for you both to pass out again. All the alcohol you consumed the night before helping aid in that.

You know you have forgiven Harry but he isn't off the hook that easily. For his bad behavior, you'll just have to punish him. Give him what he deserves. 😏

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

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My Masterlist Masterpost

"You've been a real, bad, boy." {part. 12}

[riacte]

"It's rotten work," Ren says. His tail swishes nervously. He has the demeanor of a sad scolded puppy even though no one's scolding him.

False looks up from where she's placing down mud blocks in accordance to the roads that Ren lined out. Ren's theatre kid behaviour must be kicking in now, because to call her work rotten is dramatic and almost insulting.

"It's not rotten to me. There's stuff I would call rotten work, but this is no where near it."

False places down another block. Ren obediently shuffles out of the way.

"Rotten work is when I'm at a tourney and no one's listening to my strategy so I'm left all alone, but then they use my strategy and we actually win while everyone ignores me. Rotten work is when someone sabotages me and I'm the one left to sweep away the pieces. Rotten work is when someone attacks me on purpose and I'm the one who has to apologise for being mad and pacify everyone else. This?" False pulls out another mud block, "is building. And building is not rotten work."

Ren cautiously observes what False is doing, then also pulls out his mud blocks. He moves a few steps forward so he's placing blocks, but out of her way. "It's still work," he admits. "A lot of work, in fact."

False is nonplussed. "But that's what builders do, don't they? And I am the Minister of Transport."

Ren laughs, but it's a quiet laugh. He pauses like he's hesitating, then he mumbles,

"I'm a lot of work."

Now it's False's turn to pause. Her hands continue with placing the blocks, because that's what she does. Building. Grinding. Helping friends out. So on and so forth.

"It's peculiar work for sure," False says, her tone light. "Picking up your stuff when you spontaneously explode. Bugging you about MCC. Teaching you basic colour theory. You can't get orange from blue, Ren. It sadly doesn't work that way."

Ren chuckles at the jab. "Worth a shot, eh?"

False coughs. "Yeah, like I said, peculiar work. But it's fine. I like doing peculiar work because I'm a peculiar person and you're a peculiar person. But together we are normal. Very normal indeed."

Ren considers it. "What if I don't want to be normal?"

"Then we won't be normal."

"What if I want to be normal?"

"Then we'll be normal. Or at least pretend to be."

Ren laughs. "That doesn't make any sense."

False smiles wryly. "Come on now, Ren, when have I ever made any sense?"

He shoots her a grin. "But you're like the most sensible person in the Neighbourhood!"

False lets the silence hang between them for comedic effect. "... No."

"No?"

"If I were sensible, I would've left the Neighourhood long ago."

"Hey!"

"Just kidding. That's why I'm not sensible. That's why I like not being sensible. Besides, I'm not the one who organised the ministry or planned the roads. You did. You're the one with the vision. I'm just following it."

Ren looks around the paths and his tail wags in excitement. "But you're contributing to the vision! I saw the bits and pieces you added! It looks great, by the way!"

False nonchalantly continues placing. "Yeah, you see, that's part of the peculiar work. You draw up the canvas and I edit in the details. It's like how we did the raceway last time."

"Yeah, but I haven't grinded as hard this time around. Too busy with my permit, my dude."

False giggles. "Would you call getting the beacon permit drawing a short straw?"

"I mean, I was the second to die in Demise, but you won and everything worked out in the end, so I don't mind." A pause. "Also gives me a chance to kill those dastardly withers as revenge for all the times they defeated me."

"Right, it's a lot of work to kill them, never mind farm them."

Ren sighs deeply. "There's definitely a lot going on. Especially those buttons, man."

False glances up. They're both still doing the roads. She watches Ren shift up a step and place down a mud brick slab.

"Yeah, but it'll be worth it. I'll buy your beacons. Actually, you can go do your buttons. You can kill some withers. I'll take care of this."

She can almost hear his apologies— sorry that she's doing the roads that he was supposed to do, sorry that he didn't reply to her messages, sorry that he's the way he is.

(And maybe he picks it up too— the way she actually means "I'll take care of you". He always seems to instinctively know what she means under her contradictory and confusing words. In the same way she instinctively knows what he means.)

Ren softly chuckles. "It's peculiar work."

"It's peculiar work especially if it's me, and especially if it's you—"

False sets down a mud brick slab right next to the one Ren placed. Just one slight push, and the pattern of the bricks align like they'd been inseparable from the get go. The corner of her lips quirk up.

"— but that's why I do it."