#and thought i could fix something and feel good about myself and then i fucking broke it and lost it

[fatliberation]

Sorry for leaving this in your inbox, but I need to vent and ask for advice in a place where people won't mock me. What do you do when sex is super difficult because of your fat? I've recently gotten into my first relationship and. I thought I had a handle on my internalized fatphobia and self hate but this has made it worse than ever. We can't have satisfying penetrative sex (we've tried all the tips and workarounds. Nothing works. I'm larger than most of the FA community.), and recieving oral sex is also difficult for me. I also get tired and sweaty extremely quickly if I have to like hold up myself on mostly my arms or something, so he has to do most of the work. So sex is just. Mostly the one that works on repeat, and we don't have it very often because it isn't that fun for either of us, and it also makes me cry afterwards sometimes because of how disappointing it is & me beating myself up over it.

I'm genuinely worried my boyfriend is going to leave me for this. He's clearly very frustrated with the situation, even though he tries to be nice about it most of the time. Earlier today I tried to like be flirty and hint at stuff and he just. got a bit sad. and then said that clearly neither of us enjoy the sex we're having and that he has a lot of trouble staying hard.and that he doesn't see the point when we're both forcing it for no reason. I think he's going to break up with me soon. His ex is way lighter than me, so he's probably comparing the normal sex he had with her with whatever the fuck this abnormal shitshow is :/

All the work I've done on myself to be happy with being fat (including working up the courage to date, what a mistake that was lmao) is all gone. This has ruined my self-esteem so much. I feel like one of those fatphobic jokes but a person.

first and foremost, please try your best to remember this: your body is not the problem. one more time. your body is not the problem. I'm so very sorry you're concerned that your boyfriend would leave you over this. it sounds like he has a lot of preconceived ideas about how sex is supposed to go. I promise you that it doesn't have to be this way. if this is something that could really end the relationship, know that this person is not compatible or open to exploring your needs, rather than your needs being "too difficult." I promise it's him, not you. I know folks who are 600+ pounds who have excellent sex lives and partners who satisfy them and enjoy satisfying them. when someone starts treating your pleasure like a chore, that's just shitty. I know how much it hurts. it also does damage to your own openness to pleasure. when you're caught up in feeling like sex/your body is something that needs to be "fixed," nothing is going to feel sexy, because all that pressure puts stress on and takes you out of the mental state where you're able to experience pleasure. does that make sense? so many couples get stuck in this cycle.

there are so many ways to engage in pleasure without penetration or orgasm. there's a lot that goes into foreplay, setting a mood, making your partner feel appreciated and attractive. words and touch play a huge part in this. something as simple as exploring each other's bodies, not with the intention of reaching climax, but simply to be vulnerable and engage each others' senses. have your partner give you a massage. play with your hair. tickle your back with a feather. shower together. kiss you. compliment you. if either of you are into any kinks or dirty talk, that could be a great way to engage each other sexually without the pressure of "achieving" a goal. the goal here is just to feel good, close, and connected. societal messaging about sex has placed so much importance on orgasm instead of pleasure - when taking the time and space to relax and receive attention, is key.

feel free to check out my other posts on fat sex ed, there's lots of assistive toys that can make pleasure more accessible, but I think that should be a tool for later, since the biggest issue here is the pressure to perform. know that pleasurable sex can exist for you! but for now, I would recommend taking a break from sex altogether since it is not pleasurable for you right now. because pleasure is the whole point. forcing it is only going to feel worse. you do not owe it to your boyfriend, especially if it doesn't feel good and is taking an emotional toll. I hope you both are able to take a step back, reassess and communicate, and are able to reconnect and create a safe space to explore.

I understand why you're beating yourself up over this, I've been there too. but also know that it's just another societal standard that's been internalized (and it doesn't sound like your boyfriend is helping). like you said, you've done a lot to unlearn fatphobia. there's a lot of internalized beliefs we absorb from society surrounding sex, just like body image. I promise that there is nothing wrong with you. If your boyfriend takes his frustration out on you instead of making you feel safe to express your needs, then he's not a supportive partner. you deserve someone who takes delight in your pleasure and your body. believe me, we're out there.

[100frogsinatrenchcoat]

FUCK IT. DRAWTECTIVES FANFIC.

I haven’t seen any of these yet, and as they say, write the fanfic you wish to see in the world, so:

Eugene has a breakdown which leads to his Zesty Blonde Era <3

Eugene stared at himself in the mirror feeling nauseous. Feeling like a monster.

It wasn’t his fault. Everyone said so, they all agreed. It wasn’t him — it was Leland. Eugene had meant well. He had just wanted to help.

God he had just wanted to help.

Still. Eugene didn’t like himself very much right now.

People had been hurt. Because of him. Their afterlives had been taken from them. Eugene had worked so hard and this was what he had achieved — pain, confusion, and even more problems he couldn’t solve.

Eugene should be asleep right now. Trying to clean up the mess that the Celestial Spear had caused was taking up almost all his free time. He should be sleeping while he had the chance.

But free time led to thinking and thinking led to grief, and so instead of sleeping Eugene stood in the bathroom, staring at his reflection, and trying not to cry or throw up his meager dinner.

“Eugene?” came a voice from outside the door.

Eugene jumped, startled out of his thoughts, “Oh! Hi Felix” Eugene wiped the tears that had started forming in the corners of his eyes, “You can come in. Did you need something?”

Felix pushed open the door, shuffling his feet awkwardly, “Um, no but, uh… do you? It’s late, and you’ve been just sort of…standing there?Looking in the mirror I guess? Are you okay?”

Eugene forced a smile and nodded. “I’m okay Felix. I’m just… thinking I guess.”

“Oh! Well that makes sense! You’re pretty smart so you think a lot! You just don’t usually do it while staring in a mirror at one in the morning.”

Eugene sighed, exhausted, but pat Felix’s head affectionately. “Yeah, I just- I’m thinking about myself, sort of. I don’t know. Maybe I could be better.”

“Better how?” Felix asked with concern, “I like you like this!”

Eugene smiled. That made one of them at least. What had he ever done to deserve such a sweet friend?

“Thanks Felix. And I don’t know really. It’s just- things are kinda hard right now. I messed everything up. I feel like-“ Eugene’s voice broke, the emotions he tried to control pushing through as he talked, “I feel so useless. How could I have messed up so badly? I need to fix it but I can’t I messed it all up and now I’m not even good enough to fix it, I-“

Felix pulled him into a hug. It was awkward and clunky with Felix’s animatronic body, but the show of comfort and affection broke the walls he had built up and made Eugene start crying in earnest.

“I just- I need to change.” Eugene mumbled “I don’t think I’m good anymore”

Felix hummed thoughtfully, holding Eugene tighter. “Well… I think you’re good still! But if you wanna change, maybe just change a little bit? I don’t want you to change too much… I like you right now!”

“Thanks Felix… I just don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I can do, I just need to change. I don’t like being like this.”

They stood like that in silence for a bit, before Felix exclaimed “oh! I have an idea!”

Not too much later Eugene was looking at himself in the mirror again , this time with blonde hair, and Felix chattering excitedly behind him.

He smiled. It was small, but for the first time in a while, it wasn’t forced. Dying his hair had helped - in a way. It wasn’t the hair itself, so much as the process.

Because it meant he wasn’t standing alone in the bathroom hating himself. He was running out with Felix to buy hair dye, and listening to Felix read the instructions while the cat chose music to listen to, and he was talking about something that wasn’t death and money.

And when it was done and he went to bed, he was so tired he slept through his alarm, but he couldn’t bring himself to be upset.

Because looking in the mirror, the first thing he saw wasn’t a fuckup- it was just him. Someone who had spent the night doing something stupid with his friend.

[elytrafemme]

why doesn't anybody talk about schrodinger's mental illness? seriously i think i'm onto something here

[jackass-jones]

Love being a boy who likes others boys like damn this is pretty silly I can’t believe we aren’t all doing this

[werecreature-addicted]

Sacrificial Lamb reader/vampire priest.

Just consider— a cute little lamb reader lying on the altar, begging not to be slaughtered, the tears their crying making the vampires heart flutter. All the cult members are confused why the ritual keeps getting pushed back- meanwhile the vampire is spoiling his little lamb rotten.

ohioohooohiohoo

His hands are gentle, stroking your cheek as you wake slowly, your eyes flutter open slowly to the morning light, and there he is, your keeper.

"Morning," you yawn sleepily,

"Good morning, little one,"

"is it a good morning? I thought my execution was scheduled for today." you huff, you should be more scared but the soft look on his face can only mean one thing. you get out of bed and change idly, not minding the priest as he watches you, he's a man of god after all, there's no way he'd be looking at you in lust.

"ah well, we thought so but some knew doctrine has come to light, now is not the time for sacrifices. we'll have to wait for next winter, at the very least," he says. You hum thoughtfully turning back to face him, his hungry red eyes fixed on your body, flicking up to meet your face as you turn around.

"Well, I'll make myself useful until winter then." When you were born, it had been prophecized that you would be sacrificed to the gods and your death would bring about a new golden age for your homeland. Then, on your eighteenth birthday, you'd been handed over to the church, to live out your final days in the temple, under the watchful gaze of the father and his dedicated cult. Your execution has been postponed four times now.

You wondered if the cultists even bothered setting up the altar this time. it was always something, the stars weren't aligned properly, the materials were all wrong, you fell ill and couldn't be slaughtered while sick, and now, Spring was a time for rebirth, you'd have to wait for winter for the ritual. which winter? who's to say? it might be another few years before he tries to start your sacrifice again.

He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. he puts his nose to your throat and kisses your skin. "You could be useful to me now," he breathes, his voice strained, tight with hunger. You had been so scared the first time you'd almost been killed, you remembered sobbing and pleading for your life, his knife poised above your throat, He told you that you could live, for now, if you served the cult and him. Of course, you agreed, that was the first time he bit you, spilling your blood on the altar in a different way.

You lean your neck to the side and sigh as you feel his fangs pierce your skin. you have to lean back against him for support as he drinks your blood and you grow weaker.

"so perfect, so delicious," he murmurs to himself as he drinks your blood, licking at your throat, catching any stray drops of blood. His hands slide down your body feeling up your hips and thighs. You can feel his hard cock pressing against your back as he slowly grinds against you. The priest is chaste, a man of god, but he's also a vampire, as he's explained he can't help but get erect when he feeds it's a natural side effect and completely nonsexual.

He pins you down on the bed and pushes your legs apart, grinding against you, fully clothed, as he bites your neck again. you feel dizzy, a mix of feelings as your blood is drained and as you buck and grind against the vampire on top of you. you try to keep quiet, but you can't help but moan as he takes full advantage of you. You feel dirty, the man who's saved your life so many times now is just trying to eat and here you are getting off, practically masturbating right in front of him with his cock.

You can feel how large his dick is as you grind together, you can't help but wonder what it would feel like if he pulled your underwear aside and fucked you properly while he drained your blood, the thought alone makes you shudder and press up against him as he continues to dry hump you. although with the sticky feeling between your legs and his wet mouth sucking on your neck, "dry" might be the wrong word.

you bite down on your own hand to muffle the sounds of your pleasure as you cum, still trying to hide your own lust, what would the priest think if he found out you were so lustful? if you were lucky he'd bend you over and spank you for being so sinful, at worst he might chain you down to the sacrificial altar and leave you there.

The priest pulls away, breathless, your blood smeared messily around his mouth "What a mess we've made," he huffs, looking down at your neck, and then his eyes drop further to the place where your bodies meet.

"I can clean it-" you offer weakly,

"no, no little thing, rest, you need to let your body heal, close your eyes, I'll take care of all this," he coos reassuringly, you nod obediently and close your eyes.

You look so venerable like this, he could do almost anything he wanted with you in this weakened state. the prophecy said it had to be a virginal sacrifice, maybe he could halt the ritual permanently if he just took what he'd wanted from the beginning.

[gingersxng]

Call A Friend

Pairing: f!reader x Mingi

Genre: smut 18+

Summary: when you’ve tried everything to make yourself satisfied and nothing helps, the only thing left to try is to call a friend, who is more than happy to help you.

Notes: freaky friendship??, reader is very horny, so is Mingi, mentioning sex toys, phone sex, dirty talk, horndog! Mingi, lots of teasing, fingering, stripping, nipple/breast play, praising, jerking off, edging, mingi cums on himself, pet names (baby & beautiful), Mingi wanna fuck you!!

Words: 1.4k

You were alone in your apartment, you had a rough day at work and your whole body was aching. It was aching to be touched. This feeling had been going on for at least three days, a constant ache between your thighs that begged for release.

Playing with yourself wasn’t enough to make you completely satisfied, using the vibrator or the big dildo was much but nothing could fix your horniness.

Laying on your bed, you looked up at the ceiling and thought about what to do. Then suddenly, you remembered something in the back of your head. Maybe you should call Mingi? He was a horny freak too, ofc he was a much bigger freak than you but he if someone would understand your needs.

With your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, you reached for your phone, your fingers trembled with anticipation. You scrolled through your contacts. Your eyes landed on the picture with a pink haired guy biting his sunglasses.

Without hesitation, you clicked on his number. The phone rang, and with each signal, you got hornier.

“Fuck, can’t he answer” you muttered.

"Hello?" His voice echoed through the phone, deep and rich.

"Mingi, it's Y/n" you purred, you sure sounded needy. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Y/n" he rumbled. "It's been a while. What a pleasant surprise. I was just about to start my evening workout, but I can make an exception for you."

His words sent a rush of heat to your core. You bit your lip, your mind already spinning with naughty thoughts. "Oh, I'd love to join you for your workout, Mingi. I could use a good... stretch." You said seductively.

Mingi let out a low chuckle, the sound resonating in your ear. "I can tell you're up to something. What's on your mind, beautiful?"

"I was feeling a little... restless tonight" you confessed. "And I thought of you. I wanted to hear your voice again, and maybe... do something a little naughty together."

"Oh, Y/n" he said, his voice dropping an octave. "You know how to tempt me don’t you? I'm all ears. Tell me what you want."

You took a deep breath, your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. "I want you to talk to me, Mingi. I want to hear your voice as I touch myself."

There was a moment of silence, and you could almost feel the intensity of his gaze through the phone. "Fuck. I forgot you’re just a horny freak like me." He chuckled. You closed your eyes, picturing his handsome face, imagining his strong hands on your body.

"Now, Y/n" he began, his voice taking on a seductive tone. "I want you to take off your clothes. Slowly. Let your fingers glide over your skin, feel every inch of your beautiful body."

Obeying his command, you stood up and began to undress. Your fingers fumbled with the buttons on your top. You let the fabric slide off the shoulders, exposing your lace bra. Your breasts heaved with each breath, the nipples already filled with arousal.

"That's it, Y/n" Mingi whispered. "Let me see you. Show me how beautiful you are."

You unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor, revealing your big tits. Your hands cupped them, squeezing gently, as if offering them to him. "Like what you see, Mingi?" You teased.

"God, yes" he groaned. "Your tits are perfect. Pinch your nipples for me, Y/n. Make them harden."

You did as he asked, you rolled your sensitive buds between your fingers, moaning softly at the sensation. "They're so sensitive, Mingi. I can't wait to feel your mouth on them."

"I'll suck them so hard, you'll scream my name" he purred. "Now, slide your hands down your body, tease yourself for me."

Your fingers trailed down your stomach, the skin tingled at his words. Your slipped your fingers beneath the waistband of your skirt, feeling the heat radiating from your aching core. With a slow, deliberate motion, you pushed your skirt down, revealing your lacy panties.

Mingi’s mind almost went 404, thinking about you all naked on the bed for him. "Now, touch yourself. Let me hear how wet you are."

Your fingers dipped beneath the silk fabric, finding your slick folds. You let out a gasp as you touched yourself. "I'm so wet, Mingi. I can't remember the last time I felt this aroused."

"Good girl" he encouraged. "Now, slide a finger inside. Feel how tight you are."

You did as he instructed, your breath hitched as you penetrated yourself. "Oh, Mingi, I'm so tight. I need more. Please, tell me what to do."

"Tease your clit, Y/n" he commanded. "Circle it with your fingers, but don't touch it directly. Not yet."

Your fingers danced around the swollen bud, your hips thrusted eagerly as you wanted relief. "I need more, Mingi. Please, I'm so close."

"Not yet baby" he said, his voice firm yet gentle. "I want you to edge. Tease yourself until you're right on the brink, and then stop. I want to hear you beg for release."

You whimpered, your body trembled with need. Mingi's voice was like a drug, pushing you further into the depths of pleasure. You complied, your fingers worked your clit with expert precision, bringing yourself to the very edge of orgasm before pulling away.

"Please, Mingi" you begged. "I need to cum. Please, let me finish."

"Not yet" he said. "I want to hear you beg some more. Tell me how much you want it."

Your body was on fire, your juices were flowing freely. "I want it so bad, Mingi. I'm so close. Please, please let me cum."

"That's it, Y/n" he urged. "Beg for it. Tell me how good it will feel when you finally let go."

"Fuck Mingi!" you panted. "Fuck me!!."

"Now, Y/n" he growled. "Let go. Cum for me, beautiful."

His words were like a trigger, you came on the spot. Your body shook as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over you. You cried out his name with your fingers still working your clit.

"Fuck Y/n" Mingi breathed, his voice filled with satisfaction. "That was incredible. I so wish I could fuck you right now."

Your eyes widened at his sudden words. “Uhmm…” you suddenly went quiet. You heard a low groan on the other side of the phone.

"I'm hard as a rock right now" he purred. "Listening to you pleasuring yourself made me so horny, could you help me?."

A wicked smile spread across your face. "Oh, I'd love to help you, Mingi. What do you have in mind?"

"I want you to talk to me, Y/n" he said, his voice low and husky. "Tell me how you'd suck my cock. Describe it to me in detail, and make me cum with your words."

You almost choked, you knew Mingi were a horndog but you two never actually got to bed together. You tried to picture what his dick would look like, it had to be big, thick, veiny… you imagined the feel of it in your mouth. "I'd start by licking the tip, Mingi. Tasting your precum, letting it tease my tongue. Then, I'd take you deep, as deep as I could, until my lips touched the base."

"Fuck, Y/n" he groaned. "That's exactly what I need to hear. Keep going, baby."

"I'd suck you hard" you continued, your voice growing bolder. "My lips are tight around your shaft, my tongue swirling, teasing the underside. I'd look up at you with lust filled eyes, watching your pleasure."

"Yes" he hissed. "I'm so fucking close. Tell me how you'd swallow it."

"I'd take every drop" you purred. "I'd suck you dry, feeling your cock twitch in my mouth as you cum. I'd savor the taste of you, wanting more."

His breathing was ragged now, and you knew you had him right where you wanted him. His low moan echoed through the phone, followed by a series of guttural grunts. "Oh, Y/n... fuck I'm... cumming!"

You listened as he climaxed, his voice could make you cum again. The thought of him stroking his hard cock, imagining your mouth on him, was enough to make you ache for more.

His hoodie was stained in white thick cum.

"That was incredible, Y/n" he breathed. "I've never had a phone call like that before. Thank you."

"The pleasure was all mine" you replied. "What about doing this more often? You shyly asked.

"I don’t know about that.. phone sex was good but I’d rather fuck you next time”

[areyouwell]

Logan x angel!reader 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?

Tattered

Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader

Word count: 10K

A/N: first request! so i definitely took some creative license with this... i sort of just kept adding scenes and ideas but this concept was so fierce boots i couldn't help myself. hope this is what you have in mind <3 i have also elected, from now onwards, not to use warnings on my fics unless there's explicit content in which case it will simply just have MDNI in red.

I don't have a taglist for like, oneshots or requests rn so lmk if anyone would like to be added :)

“Watch your six, Icarus!” Scott’s voice crackled from your earpiece as you swooped over the battlefield, the feathers in your wings fluttering in the wind. Glancing behind back, you realised why Scott had alerted you, three drones tailed you with six red dots seeking out your presence. Fuck, this wasn’t good. Why did nothing ever go right? Why were there always fucking complications?

You tucked your wings in tight against your back as you joined the rest of the team inside the Blackbird. You’d always been conscious of how much room you often took up, and whilst your mutation was your pride and joy, it was a common occurrence to feel a little self conscious when trying to cram multiple people into a tight space. You never occupied any of the seats in the cockpit, your wings wouldn’t allow it, and it was never comfortable for you anyway, the way they would shift and bend at unnatural angles meant you’d constantly be shuffling around to stop the awkward ache in your shoulder blades.

Icarus. That was your name. Well, not your name, but that’s what they called you on account of your gleaming golden feathers. You thought it was a little mean, to be honest. You had no intention of flying too close to the sun anytime soon, but alas, you were stuck with it, and over time, you’d come to appreciate it. They weren’t far off anyway. You did have grand ideals, and dreams to become something more than just a freedom fighter. You wanted to change the world and make it a safer place where humans and mutants could live in harmony. You knew a lot of the hard graft was political, and Hank was doing wonders for mutant reputation, but you still would like to contribute something other than stopping mutant slave trades and taking down illegal, anti-mutant organisations. 

That was the mission today. Some hate-crazed fuck had been building some kind of drone that could target the mutant gene. Kind of like the sentinels from years ago, but they’d been discontinued.

Thank fuck. 

The muscles in your shoulders tensed slightly as Ororo and Logan finally joined the rest of you, deep in conversation about the inevitable upcoming battle. You tucked yourself further into the wall, cursing lowly as you hit your head against the steel. 

Your relationship with Logan was… complicated, to say the least. The two of you instantly clicked when you met, finding yourself at ease with his gruff, surprisingly playful demeanour. You guessed he must have felt the same, since you noticed he would often seek you out during breaktimes, or take the seat next to you during meetings, sending you looks whenever Scott said something particularly leader-ish. You’d have to bite back a smile and attempt to keep your serious composure, lest anyone would think you weren’t taking the meeting seriously. 

And then there was the night things shifted between you. It was late, possibly early hours of the morning. Your muscles ached from being unable to find a comfortable position to sleep in, the beds not exactly being tailored to suit those with extra limbs, and with a huff of irritation, you’d given up to head downstairs and fix yourself an Irish coffee. And whilst there was a serious lack of Irish whiskey in the school, you knew Logan had a bottle of bourbon hiding somewhere in the cupboards, out of reach for most of the younger kids. 

You’d managed to clamber up onto the counter, perched precariously on the edge as you rifled around the top shelf, pulling down various unused cooking equipment before you finally came across the liquid gold. With a triumphant smile, you reached in further to wrap your fingers around the neck of the bottle, delicately pulling it from the depths of the cupboard. Only, it was stuck. 

The screw top kept scraping against the top of the cupboard, and you grit your teeth as your fruitless yanking sent pots and pans clattering against each other. You seriously didn’t want to wake anyone only to have them come down and find you up on your knees, balancing on the thin space of the counter, elbow deep in the top cupboard and frantically pulling at a bottle of whiskey. Fuck knows what kind of an impression that would give, but it certainly wouldn’t have been the correct one. 

Flaring your wings for balance, you completely misjudged the tips of your wingspan, knocking over an empty can of baked beans and sending it rolling onto the floor with a loud, deafening clang. You froze, attempting to quiet your breathing whilst you waited for the telltale sound of footsteps or the annoyed slam of a bedroom door. But your intense listening found nothing, the halls of the school blissfully quiet as you loosened your held breath. 

Nothing. Everyone was still asleep.

You turned your attention back to the stubborn bottle, this time trying to gently manoeuvre it around the baking bowls and saucepans, teasing it from the small little hiding place like you would a scared child. 

“Come… on.” You hissed with effort, finally freeing your vice from its trap with a final, harsh tug. Only, it was a little harsher than you’d have liked it to be. You grabbed the handle of the cupboard to your left to hold your balance, only for the door to swing open and provide absolutely no stability whatsoever. 

You felt yourself fall backwards with a frantic, whispered curse, swinging with the cupboard door, and resigned yourself to the sore back you’d get from falling to the floor. Or, at least, you would have fallen to the floor, if it hadn’t been for the sudden appearance of a warm palm at the centre of your spine. 

“Rough–” 

You yelped at the unexpected voice behind you, you entire body jumping as if you were shocked by a socket. 

“Stop screaming, it’s me,” Logan soothed with no small degree of subdued amusement. “Rough night?”

It wasn’t like he was asleep, more like dozing when he heard the soft padding of footsteps pass his door and head down the stairs. Knowing it was you, he assumed you’d just woken up thirsty and were heading down for a glass of water. His assumption proved incorrect when the clattering of pans and the clang of something hitting the floor broke the steady silence, and curiosity won over when he decided to investigate just exactly what it was you were doing. 

What he wasn’t expecting was to find you clinging onto the cupboards for dear life, his bottle of whiskey clutched in one stubborn hand and your other gripping the open door of the shelf next to you. And it was pure instinct to lunge forward and steady you before you fell to the floor, though in the following moments, he convinced himself it was purely because he didn’t want you to wake up anyone else.

“What?” You asked in bewilderment, turning your head to see his brow raise at the bottle you had in your white knuckle grip. How the hell hadn’t you heard him? You’d stayed silent for at least five minutes before resuming your attempts to pull the bottle out. How the hell had he managed to still creep up on you?

“It’s two in the mornin’ and you’re makin’ a grab for whiskey. So, rough night?” He asked again, moving his hands from your back to your waist, steadying you as you clambered down from the countertop, and he did his best to ignore the feeling of your warm skin seeping through the thin nightshirt you were wearing. At least you were wearing shorts. Though, he counted that as both a blessing and a curse. 

He liked you. Despite trying to gaslight himself otherwise, there were times when he truly couldn’t deny it. And this time was one of them. You looked a little dishevelled, hair slightly frizzy and out of place from tossing and turning, and it was one of the rare times he’d seen you without any makeup on. You never wore a lot, just enough to accent your already glowing features and cover any blemishes he thought you had no reason to feel self-conscious about. 

You were so perfectly yourself, it was tricky for him not to fall in love with you.

Not that he had, of course. This was just a surface-level crush…

Yeah. Totally.

“You uh, yeah, you could say that. One of those nights, ya know?” You offered a small, slightly dejected smile, and his heart bled slightly. He knew. More than he could say, he knew exactly what you were talking about.

“You plannin’ on drinking yourself to sleep?” He asked with wry suspicion as you leaned against the counter, placing his bottle next to the kettle you still needed to flip on. 

“The opposite, actually. Wanted to fix myself an Irish coffee. Seeing as I’m not sleeping tonight, might as well stay up.” You shrugged, finding the willpower to turn away from him and grab the ground coffee from the lower cupboard. Thankfully, it didn’t put up the same kind of fight as the bottle. 

It was getting increasingly difficult to ignore the electricity humming from where his hands were still against your waist, though his grip was lighter than when he’d helped you down. It truly wasn’t decent to detail the things you were thinking at that moment, and you had to force yourself to think of unsexy things. 

“We have a mission in two days and you’re pullin’ an all-nighter?” He asked, his brows pinching in badly concealed concern. Your heavy sigh did nothing to quench his worry.

“What’m I supposed to do? You try sleeping in a bed that’s too small with wings that stretch to either side of the room,” You huffed, flicking down the switch on the kettle and spooning a good two heaps of coffee grounds into the cafetiere. “Doesn’t matter what position. On my back or my side, shit’s so fucking uncomfortable it almost hurts.” 

“Why not sleep on your front?”

You snapped back to look at him, eyes hardening to steel. “No. Never sleep on my front.”

You’d said it with so much force he almost reeled back. There was a story there, there had to be, for you to clap back at him with such a bite there was no way it was just a personal preference. You hadn’t really told anyone about your life before the school, but from the bare snippets he’d heard from Charles, it wasn’t exactly how anyone would describe as happy. And there was fear behind that steel. Vulnerability. 

Logan sighed, leaning across you to flip the switch back up, stopping the kettle from boiling. You gaped indignantly, and before you could ask him just what the hell he thought he was doing, he spoke before you.

“Sleep with me.”

You choked, eyes blowing wide with shock. “I… what?”

Logan rolled his eyes, unable to tame the crooked curl of his lips at your complete one-eighty from irritation to stupefaction, even the feathers of your wings had puffed out slightly. “Not like that, freak,” although I wouldn’t be opposed. “Just… for company. Might help, s’all.” He offered quietly, and a blanket of realisation settled in your chest. He was awake too. It had only just occurred to you. He hadn’t been sleeping. He didn’t even look like he’d been sleeping. And it made more sense in your head for him to offer if it was something that could benefit both of you. 

It seemed highly unlikely he was offering just for you. Right?

“You sure? Don’t wanna like, intrude on your space or anything…” 

“Not intrudin’ if I offer,” he reasoned, and you guessed you couldn’t argue with that. With a heavy sigh, you looked back to the bottle of whiskey you’d fought wars to obtain, realising now that the whole cupboard situation had been for nothing. 

“All that effort,” you pouted comically, and Logan huffed a smile.

“I’ll put it somewhere easier next time. C’mon.” He nudged you before grabbing the bottle and returning it to the top shelf. You cursed his stupid height and the fact that he wasn’t down earlier. He could have retrieved it for you with so much less effort. But at the same time… if he had…

You wouldn’t be where you are now. 

You followed him back up the stairs, taking a left to the door only a few down from your own. You didn’t quite know how sleeping in the presence of someone else would help, but you were not about to say no to sleeping by his side. It wasn’t like this was something you’d thought about. At great length. And in great detail.

And this certainly wasn’t a scenario he’d entertained far too many times to count. 

Though upon seeing the double bed, that same self-conscious feeling reared its ugly head. There was no way you weren’t going to disturb him. You could barely find comfort in your own bed of the same size, let alone trying to sleep with someone else taking up space. You hesitated in the doorway, and Logan turned back to you, his head quirking to the side. 

“You ‘kay?”

“Yeah… s’just– are you sure I’m not gonna disturb you? Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I take up a bit more room than other people…” you extended your wings in emphasis, barely able to stretch them to half their wingspan before the side of the closet and the wall stopped you. Logan breathed a soft smile, and you felt yourself shrink slightly. 

“I’ll be fine, just get in.”

You huffed in resignation, tucking the feathers close into your back and crossing to the other side of the bed, unable to stop thinking about how ridiculous this was. You really should just get the fuck over yourself and go back to your room. How tricky was sleeping on your front anyway? Maybe this time you wouldn’t wake up with a panic attack and you were just being dramatic this whole time. You were fine. It really wasn’t that deep. You didn’t want to disturb him just because you couldn’t get over some stupid fucking fear. This was–

“Christ, I’m not even a telepath and I can hear ya thinkin’. It’s fine, sweetheart. You’re fine.” He implored, throwing back the covers for you to take up the space next to him, but you continued to hesitate. “You want a written invitation or somethin’? Get your ass in bed.”

“Alright, jeez…” you pursed your lips to stop yourself from smiling at his smartass comment, keeping your wings firmly against your back as you shuffled beneath the covers by his side, careful not to take up too much room. Your shoulder started to cramp up slightly, but there was no way you were about to release the tension in your muscles until you were sure he was asleep. 

Pulling the covers up to your neck as best you could, you scooted down until your head hit the pillow, shifting in yet another attempt to ease the ache in your back. You hadn’t noticed he’d turned on his side to face you until you looked back ahead and were suddenly met with his flat look of exasperation.

“Seriously?”

“What?” Your voice raised into a pitch of innocence, and Logan barely managed to suppress his eye roll of sarcasm. 

“The point was for you to be comfortable.”

“I am comfortable!”

“As comfortable as someone would be whilst constantly tensing, yeah?”

“Logan, if I don’t, you’ll wake up with feathers in your nose.”

He snorted a laugh, and you giggled slightly along with him. “You look ridiculous.”

You gaped in mock offence. “Hey!”

“Come ‘ere…” in one swift movement, you were dragged from your position on your side, and he turned the both of you until you were settled on his chest. Panic swirled in your mind as your back was exposed to the room, until a steady hand soothed your racing pulse against your spine, in the space between your wings. You felt comfort dampen your anxiety, breathing deeply into the dip between his collarbone and neck, exhaling a shaky breath. You let the seconds tick by, expecting yourself to start gasping rapidly at any moment. But the longer your heart stayed settled, the more you realised this might actually work. “Y’okay?” He asked quietly, and you nodded against his chest.

“Yeah… just surprised. Usually, I’d be thinking I’m about to die by this point,” you half-joked, and though you couldn’t see him, Logan’s brows pinched in empathy. What the hell had happened to you before joining the team? Finding the school? His fingers slowly grazed through the short, fluffy feathers at the base of your wings, carding through the stiff joints. He watched in mild amusement as you shivered slightly, those feathers puffing out and shuddering at his touch. He lightly dug his fingers into the hard muscles around the joint, and you had to clamp your mouth shut to stop yourself from sighing in release. You hadn’t realised just how much strain it was to constantly keep them tight against your back, and whilst it had proven useful to build up the muscle, it had also resulted in some nasty knots. 

Achingly slowly, your wings started to relax, heavy, hollow bones coming to rest across his body, wingtips grazing the floors on either side of the bed as you blanketed the both of you in a soft, warm embrace. Your eyes started to grow tired, lids drooping with each gentle caress of his fingers across your back. 

“Sleep, angel. ‘M here. You’re safe.” He whispered, and you didn’t have the energy to contemplate the fact he’d just used two new pet names for you. If you weren’t so damn tired, your insides would have exploded with butterflies by now, but the siren call of sleep lulled you into a sense of security, and with his steady heartbeat your lullaby, you gave in to the soft pull of rest. 

That was the night things changed between you. The day after he would barely leave your side, sticking by you throughout the morning, taking the seat next to you in the pre-mission meeting that same evening, sending you quick glances that he’d cut short whenever your eyes met. And it was the same when he entered the Blackbird, with you tucked tight against the wall. His eyes found you instantly, lips carving into a gentle smile, his hand falling to your shoulder as he walked past you. You savoured the touch, missing the contact when his hand fell back to his side, still deep in conversation with Ororo. 

“Do you want to fly above us, Icarus? Might be more comfortable,” Scott asked from where he’d taken his seat at the front of the jet, his head turning back to look at you through his glasses. You knew what he meant. There was only so much room in the Blackbird, and despite your best efforts, you were taking up a considerable amount. You took a moment to think, weighing up your options. And whilst you loved the freedom of flying, you couldn’t help but think it was a backhanded way of asking you to stop taking up so much room. He may not have meant it that way, but that’s just how it felt. 

“Uh, sure. Yeah, might be better…” You mumbled with a shrug, trying in vain to stop the hot shame from flushing your cheeks. 

Logan’s jaw tensed, his teeth grinding together, the sound resonating through his skull. He’d been trying so damn hard to get you to loosen up about your wings. And whilst he found it difficult to properly articulate just how gorgeous he thought they were, he thought he was finally making some progress after the last two days. So the way Scott insensitively asked you to fly instead of taking the jet wound him up. 

“Only if it would be better for you. Don’t do it just cuz ya think it’ll be more comfortable for everyone else,” he ground out with a pointed look to Scott, whose brows furrowed in brief confusion before his mouth fell open in horror.

“Shit, no that’s not what I meant! I just thought–”

“It’s fine, Scott,” you tried placating the panicking Cyclops. “I need to stretch them out before the mission anyway.” You smiled a liar's smile, hoping he wouldn’t see through the façade and into your genuine hurt before turning on your heel to head back down the ramp. You managed to make it roughly halfway before a hand caught your arm, stopping you short. 

“You’re not doin’ this cuz of these, right?” Logan asked, gesturing to your wings with his head, his eyes searching your expression as if he was looking to peer right through you. You offered him the same smile you gave Scott, and whilst it worked to settle Cyclops, it only served to broaden Logan’s concern. 

“Nah, I really do need to stretch them out, feeling kinda stiff today so it’s not a problem.” You said brazenly, shrugging off his concerns with faux confidence. You knew it didn’t work when his expression didn’t shift, his hand tightening slightly around your arm. You sighed, defeated. “It’s fine, Logan. Everyone’ll be more comfortable like this anyway, myself included. I won’t feel like I’m–”

“If you finish that sentence with ‘in the way’ I’ll throw you off the jet myself.” He borderline growled, and you tensed your jaw in slight irritation. Couldn’t he just let you have this? Couldn’t he just let you do this one thing to make everyone’s lives more comfortable? Why did he have to be so damn stubborn?

“Just… drop it, yeah? I’ll see you guys when we get there.” You bit, almost snatching your arm from his grip and continuing down the ramp, crouching low when you reached the bottom and launching into the skies, your wings beating hard as cold wind whipped your face. All Logan could do was watch you go, regret piercing his chest as the sound of your wings receded into the night sky. 

And that was how you found yourself already airborne when Scott’s voice crackled through your earpiece, the low hum of those three drones on your tail like the toll of death, the rapid beeping of target systems an accompaniment to the symphony. Tucking one of your wings in tight, you fell into a sharp stoop, panic rising in your chest as they followed you down. The hissing release of metal combined with the sudden roar of a rocket told you at least one of them had fired on you. You flared your wings, catching the air like a feathered parachute as you levelled out quickly, the missile shooting past you and into the ground below. The heat from the explosion fanned your face as you whipped around the wreckage of a building, those three drones still hot on your trail.

Logan looked up as you soared above, his claws drenched in blood as he yanked them out the helmet of some unfortunate soldier who’d made the mistake of thinking he could take on The Wolverine. His heart raced in his throat as those six dots wouldn’t stray from your body, drones expertly following your manoeuvres, mimicking every duck and dive, narrowly missing the corners of buildings and rising flames. Ororo’s voice crackled in his own earpiece, her tone frantic. 

“Icarus you gotta shake them!”

“NO SHIT!”

He almost winced at the panic in your voice, snapping back at Storm in a way he’d never heard you do before. Casting a quick glance to his surroundings, he saw Scott with his fingers braced on his glasses, beams of white-hot energy streaking the battlefield as he picked off one guard after another. 

“Scott!” He called, his legs pounding the ground as he ran over, slicing through the gut of a nameless, faceless soldier who stood in his way before he jogged to a stop. “Think you can get a clear shot?” He asked, his words rushed as his gaze returned to the skies, another explosion booming bright before you raced around the corner of the main building. 

“They’re moving too fast and it’s too much of a risk.” Scott called back over the din of battle, the crackle and boom of thunder overhead striking the earth with expert precision as Storm unleashed yet another bolt from the clouds above. A little too close to you for comfort. 

Logan’s breath caught in his throat as you levelled out, those tenacious six red dots still focused solely on your racing form, your wings beating and dipping with every expert manoeuvre as you once again swooped from sight. But it still wasn’t enough. 

“Lead the shot.”

“What?”

“Lead the damn shot, Scott. She’ll be comin’ back round, it’s a pattern. Just do it.” He almost pleaded, his voice cracking slightly. He knew you only had precious seconds before those missiles would fire again, and you couldn’t outrun them forever.

You crested back around the ruins of the facility, and it was only due to his enhanced sight could he see your confidence wavering, your jaw tense with concentration, though your eyes were blown wide with panic. 

The beep of the target systems increased rapidly, before blending into one long note. And it was like time came to a slow crawl. A puff of silver gas erupted from the base of the drone, a pinpoint missile dropping from the small hold to hone in on your location before Scott had a chance to take it out. 

Switching targets, Scott moved his head to the side slightly, leading the shot as Logan had said, the beam of pure, red and white hot energy shot from his glasses, quick as a blink. And for one, blissfully ignorant moment, Logan thought they’d succeeded.

But the missile was too close. The moment the pure energy collided with the steel casing, a ball of furnace orange flame and thick black smoke lit the sky. Before you had time to think, searing agony jolted your back, hellfire burning your shoulders and wings as you were thrust forward, losing control of your trajectory. Panic gripped your heart as you tried in vain to regain your altitude, but your wings weren’t responding. The stench of burning feathers and flesh singed your nose as you went down, caught up in the explosion between Scott’s beam and the missile. 

Wind roared in your ears, whipping your hair as you descended, flailing and spiralling, to the ground, trees and ruin rising to bring your fall, and your life, to a sharp end. 

“STORM!”

“ICARUS!”

Two indistinguishable voices exploded in your ears, deafening you over the din of death. You knew this was most likely it. This was most likely the end, but you felt numb peace as the wind kept you company, wrapping around you almost like a blanket as you braced your arms against your chest, pain splitting your body and mind as the open rooftop of a ruined house ripped through your suit and flesh as you struck the ground, knowing nothing more than darkness.

“No…” Logan whispered, his entire world coming to an abrupt halt as you descended past his line of vision, a cloud of black dust rolling from the wreckage of a home. You weren’t dead. You couldn’t be dead. He was moving before he’d even registered it, racing across blackened bodies and charred remains of structures. His throat tore with repeated cries of your name, pushing past collapsed beams and splinters of wood, shoving aside wrecked furniture and broken decor before he saw you.

Lifeless.

In a pool of your own blood. 

Your leg lay in an unnatural angle, your wings charred and broken, your wrist twisted in a way he knew it really shouldn’t be. His blood turned to ice in his veins, face blanching as he couldn’t see the rise and fall of your chest beneath the shrapnel and dust covering you. A jagged wooden spike protruded from the dip between your shoulder and your chest, the entry wound somewhere on your back.

He had to check if you were still alive, but he couldn't move, finding himself frozen in place. He couldn't lose you. Not when he was finally putting the foundations down for your relationship. He couldn't lose you now… 

But seeing your body broken like this… there was no way you could have survived that fall, even with Ororo’s help. She tried to slow your descent too late, a gust of wind appearing from nowhere to catch you just a second after she should have. Maybe you’d still be alive if she'd succeeded. Maybe you’d still be here if he hadn't asked Scott to shoot those fucking drones.

Maybe…

“Fuck! Icarus! Icarus can you hear me?” Storm rushed past him, followed by a horrified Cyclops, and if Logan could focus on anything other than your twisted limbs, he'd see the overwhelming sense of guilt on his face. 

Ororo pushes off the splinters of wood and debris from your body, her movements hurried yet careful, terrified of moving you too much. She placed two trembling fingers against the side of your neck and waited. 

And waited. 

And waited…

Logan thought the moment would never end, silence blanketing the ruined room as the three of them could do nothing but watch, Jean quietly placing a hand on Scott's shoulder. 

“There's a pulse!” Storm cried, a sob of relief erupting from her throat as Jean rushed forward, her hands ghosting the top of your body. 

You were alive. Alive. How the fuck had you survived that? There was no way you could have survived that. You fell from over two hundred feet, how the fuck–

“We need to stabilise her. She's lost a lot of blood and it hasn't stopped. Can you tell what the damage is?” Storm turned to Jean, hoping her telekinesis could find something, anything that would provide more information. 

“Broken ribs, her lung is punctured, I think she's bleeding internally and we can’t remove this or she’ll bleed out… I can't do shit out here, we need to get her back to the school. Now.” Jean's voice took on a tone of authority, spurring Scott back into action, but Logan was still paralysed. It was only two nights ago you were sound asleep on his chest, only yesterday he couldn’t stand being further than two feet from you. 

Logan…

You were alive, but how long for? Was he just given false hope, only to lose you on the way? On the operating table? How much longer did you have? How much longer did he have?

“Logan…”

He wanted to blame Scott. Fuck, he wished he could blame Scott. But the truth was, he asked him to take them out. He was the one who asked if he had a shot. He was the one who coerced him to take it. Would you have been okay? Would you have been able to shake them on your own? Had he single-handedly brought on your fall?

“LOGAN!”

Logan blinked rapidly, eyes burning from how long he was staring, unblinkingly, at your broken body. Numbly, he tore his gaze from you and over to Ororo, and though her brows were pinched in concern, her eyes were hard with determination. 

“I know, but if we wait any longer, we’ll lose her. Think you can clear Jean a path?” She glanced pointedly to the rubble somewhat blocking the doorway, and it took him another second before forcing his body to move, nodding wordlessly to Ororo’s orders. He wasn’t usually one to just mindlessly obey, but he wasn’t able to think straight at the moment and was honestly thankful for the others taking charge. 

He was strong at the best of times, but self-hatred fuelled his arms to work overtime, shoving away impossibly large beams and collapsed part of the wall before there was a clear path for Jean to levitate you through. Your smouldering wings dragged along the ground, tattered and torn, gathering dust and grime along the bloodied tips. Only now had could he get a glimpse of your back, the worst of the damage caking your shoulders and wing joints in blackened crimson. Feathers had burned away, leaving your mutation raw and weeping. You didn’t know what he was talking to Ororo about on the walk to the jet. You didn’t know he was asking her if you had a favourite food, or colour, or flower. You had no idea he’d planned to officially ask you out after the mission. 

Now you might never know.

Scott slowly approached him, looking as if he were in a state of complete shock, replaying what went wrong over and over again in his head. All it took was one glance, and Logan didn’t even need to see his eyes to know they were buried in remorse. He wanted to be furious at him, but he couldn’t. He wanted to be beside himself with desperate anger, but there was nothing to be angry at him for. This wasn’t Scott’s fault…

It was his. 

The ride back to the mansion took days and also five seconds, Jean doing her best to keep you stable whilst Ororo took the pilot’s seat, Scott being in no shape to fly anything. Logan found himself too terrified to touch you as if the slightest movement could worsen your condition. In the silence of the ship, he could hear your haunting, rasped breaths, slow and shallow. The stench of charred flesh and boiled blood made his stomach clench, but not as much as the wounds across your body. He forced himself to look at them. To look at what he’d done to you because of his choices. Forced himself to sear every weeping burn, every broken bone, every blood-soaked bandage into his memory. Your wings, which once held so much majesty and beauty, now lay in tatters, and he had no idea if they would grow back. Would you ever be able to fly again? Logan didn’t know if he’d be able to look himself in the mirror if he’d taken that from you too. 

“She’s going to be okay, Logan. She’s stabilised for now and the Professor already knows the situation. Hank’s on standby and Charles has called in a favour from a surgeon. She’ll be in the best hands possible when we get there.” Jean attempted to comfort him, all the while focussed on keeping you stable from any turbulence and making sure your wounds didn’t worsen. 

“I did this…” he whispered, uttering the first words since watching you fall. Speaking his thoughts into the thick silence, the rest of the team cast glances at each other, Scott running a hand through his hair.

“No… I should have trusted your judgment. I hesitated. Fired too late. You can’t blame yourself for this…” He hissed, dragging the hand from his hair down the side of his face. 

“You both did what you could,” Ororo offered from the cockpit, her eyes still focused on the clouds ahead. “If you hadn’t done anything, she’d be dead by now. Those drones weren’t going to give up and she couldn’t shake them. She’s still here because of what happened, not despite it.” 

Logan couldn’t find the self-compassion to believe her. His eyes still trained on the scattering of feathers beneath where Jean suspended you from the ground. He wearily raised his head when the redhead called his name, her features soft with understanding. 

“Come here,” she gesture him over with a nod of her head, her hands still hovering over your body. Logan hesitated before rising from his seat, to stand by your side, across from Jean. “Place two fingers against the side of her neck,” she instructed, and his breath hitched, eyes darting from your unconscious face to Jean. “You won’t hurt her, just do it.”

Inhaling sharply, Logan softly brushed your hair back from your neck, gently placing two fingers against your pulse point. There he felt the slight, slow thump of your heart still beating. The realisation was enough to bring him to his knees, not caring about the sharp bark of pain as he struck the steel floor. He knew you were alive. Ororo had said as much, but to actually feel you, to feel the evidence of you’re still beating heart, broke through the dam of self-hatred.

His hand cautiously skirted up your jaw to rest against the side of your cheek as he pressed his forehead into your hair, his breath shuddering with the effort to keep himself from falling apart. He didn’t care that he could taste blood and dirt when he softly kissed the side of your head. Didn’t care that now everyone knew how he felt about you. His thumb lightly caressed your cheekbone, smoothing the grimy skin beneath your eye. 

You hadn’t left him yet. You were still here. 

“She’s alive, Logan. And we’re gonna keep her that way,” the conviction in Jean’s eyes was almost enough to settle his heart, but he knew the twisting worry wouldn’t loosen until he saw you open your eyes, your wounds healing, your wings bright again.

Everything ached. Everything. You felt as if you’d been hit by a bus, only for the bus to reverse back over your body, and hit you again. Your wrist barked with sharp pain when you tried to shift, your eyes still closed against the bright lights behind your lids. Something tight was almost cutting off the circulation to your left leg, and inhaling too deeply caused your chest to convulse in agony. The steady beep of a heart rate monitor helped you count roughly how many seconds you’d been conscious. You tried to think back to what could have happened, only to find the last thing you remembered was stooping in a low dive with three drones tailing you. There was an explosion at your back and–

You were falling. 

You’d fallen.

So much for not living up to your name…

With a hissing wince, you cracked your eyes open, only to instantly screw them shut at the sharp burn of bright lights unfamiliar to your retinas. How long have you been out? How did the mission go? Was everybody okay? Was Logan okay? 

With renewed determination, you attempted to open your eyes again, gritting your teeth as you blinked through the burn of adjustment. You knew this ceiling. You knew this table. From your first ever visit to the school, you’d been taken care of in this very room. You groaned slightly, exhaustion already taking its

 toll on your weary bones. Any attempt to move yourself resulted in agony spiking up your spine, white-hot pain cresting through your shoulder blades. Panic gripped your heart as you attempted to move your wings, only to find resistance. Turning your head with a sharp gasp, your eyes welled up with new tears seeing your torn, tattered feathers bound in bandages, held suspended by a sling from the ceiling. They were still attached, so there was that, you supposed, but it had been a long, long time since you’d seen them in this condition. 

You glanced down the bed to find your leg wrapped in a cast, held aloft from the mattress. Your wrist too seemed to be encased in white. You turned your neck to the other side with the intention of gauging the damage to your other wing, before your eyes widened at who you saw, head bowed asleep, in the chair next to your bed. 

Despite yourself and your situation, you couldn’t stop your lips from pulling into a fond, soft smile as Logan snored lightly. He looked truly exhausted, his hair mussed from how many times he’d run his hands through it. You didn’t think it was possible to adore him any more than you already did, but here you were, finding your heart growing three sizes at the sight. 

The doors opposite you slid open, Jean striding through with a clipboard and a thin pair of glasses perched on her nose. She stopped dead when she looked up from her notes, almost dropping her pen to the floor when she registered the fact you were awake. Silently, you placed a finger to your lips, before pointing over to the exhausted Logan in the chair. She smiled with a fond nod, 

Keeping her footsteps light, she crossed the medical bay to take a look at the readings on the screen, before crouching down next to your bed, her eyes focusing on the bandages across the bend of your wing. 

“He hasn’t slept since we got back. Storm had to force him to eat something yesterday. And he hasn’t stepped foot outside this room.” Jean explained, keeping her voice to a low whisper.

“How long’ve I been here…?” you asked, unable to raise your voice louder than a low whisper. Your throat scratched with every word, and you hadn’t realised just how thirsty you were until now. 

“A week and three days. I’m going to slowly reintroduce food into your stomach before taking out the IV, okay?” 

You barely heard the rest of her sentence. A week and three days? That was a little longer than you were expecting, to be honest. 

“Wait… Logan hasn’t slept in over a week?” You managed to rasp a little louder, your chest lurching with concern. That wasn’t healthy for anyone, even someone who could regenerate as fast as he could. No wonder he was utterly spent. 

And it was as if your voice were like an alarm clock. One moment your hushed tones were accompanied by the soft snores of the man in the chair, the next his eyes shot open, your whispered name the first words on his lips. 

Turning your head back to him, your breath caught in your throat. There was a hurricane of emotions swirling in his hazel eyes. Relief, guilt, fear, joy, remorse. A cocktail of feelings clouded his eyes and you wished you had the energy to cup the side of his face and reassure him you were alright. 

Logan’s exhausted haze cleared instantly upon hearing your voice, seeing your eyes open for the first time since he watched you plummet to the ground, and it took a moment for him to realise he wasn’t dreaming. Because he had dreams of this. In the rare moments he physically couldn’t keep his eyes open, his mind would either take him back to your fall or fabricate the moment you woke up. But wherever his dreams took him, he would always wake up with the tight ache of guilt constricting his chest. His waking moments he would spend thinking about what he would say to you if you woke up, planning out a meticulously crafted apology, but everything he wanted to say instantly flew out the window upon actually seeing you awake. 

“Hi…” you whispered, voice still raspy from disuse. And it was your weary, worn smile that tore at the chains around his soul. He couldn’t respond, as if he were the one who’d been lying unconscious for the last two weeks. 

Jean, sensing the tension in the room, stood from her crouched position by your wing, clearing her throat a little before tucking the clipboard flat against the crook of her elbow. 

“I’ll be back in a bit to check up on you and bring you some food.” She murmured, but you barely acknowledged her exit, too fixated on Logan’s expression of disbelief. 

The doors closed as Jean took her leave, blanketing the two of you in a charged silence, the both of you waiting for the other to talk first. 

“Logan I–”

“I’m so sorry, it–”

So naturally, of course, you both spoke at the same time, before falling into another equally uncomfortable silence, once again stuck in the purgatory of waiting for the other. You held your tongue this time, nodding to him with the smallest movement of your head. 

“You’re okay…” he breathed, almost to himself, as if having to remind himself again that this wasn’t in fact a dream. You were awake. You were talking. You weren’t lying lifeless with only the steady beeping of medical equipment to keep him company. Your eyes were open, looking at him with something he was struggling to discern through his addled mind. 

“I’m okay,” you responded softly, watching his features morph from self-hatred to pure relief. He shifted in his seat, head hanging low between his shoulders as he took a shaky breath, and you could see the slight shudder of his shoulders.

“I–” he started, before cutting himself off with a sharp inhale, clamping his teeth together as he struggled to raise his head again. “I thought I lost you.”

Whilst it was nothing but the softest admission, you felt spiderwebs crack through your heart, wanting nothing more than to reach for him, if only your bones didn’t feel like lead. He continued to keep his head low, his hands wringing together between his knees. “It was ’my fault. I didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t shake em and they were closin’ in and Scott wasn’t fuckin’ listenin’ an’–”

“Logan,” you interrupted as loud as you could, your throat tearing at the sudden strain on your voice, causing you to wince slightly. Your hiss of discomfort finally prompted him to raise his head, half standing from his seat to instantly be by your side should you need anything. “I’m okay. Or, I will be. My wings’ve seen worse, and my body will heal with time. I’m okay.”

He searched your face for any sign of deception, any indication that you were just saying this to spare his feelings, or stop him from spiralling into the well of self-hatred once again. He knew it wasn’t the time to ask, but his mind subconsciously filed away that nugget of your past for a later conversation, too focused on the fact his search came up short of anything he was looking for. 

“You’re okay…” he repeated, settling back into the chair by your bed. His eyes fell to your twitching hand, and with a gentleness only reserved for you, his fingers intertwined with yours, bringing your knuckles to his lips. “You’re okay.”

Your heart skipped a beat or several, and you were mildly concerned about setting off the heart rate monitor your abdomen was connected to. You don’t think you’d ever had this many wires connected to your body in your life, not even when Charles first found you. Nobody knows what had happened that day apart from him, and you refused to speak of it. 

“What do you remember?” Logan asked, pressing the back of your hand against the scruff of his cheek, as if desperate to feel you. Your brows furrowed for a moment, your quick trip down trauma lane before you opened your eyes yielding nothing of much use.

“I remember the drones and the targeting dots. I remember one… fired, I think, and missed,” you struggled, screwing your eyes shut in a vain attempt to jog your own memory.  “Uh– then there were two more? One missed and the other exploded before it hit me, but I was caught up in the blast radius. I remember falling and I remember the pain, but that’s about it…” You opened your eyes to find Logan’s expression have shifted once again back to remorse. He really thought it was his fault… didn’t he? “I couldn’t get them off me, Lo’.” You offered quietly.

“I know.”

“I wouldn’t be here if Scott hadn’t fired.”

“I… I know.”

“Logan, you saved my life.”

He placed your hand back on the bed, and you instantly missed the warmth of his palm. “I almost got you killed. I almost lost you. We could have worked somethin’ else out. Storm could’ve–”

“And what if she couldn’t?” You prompted gently, your brows creasing with empathy as you watched him try to wade through the implications of your question. 

“That’s not– I almost–”

“Almost, Logan. Almost. But you didn’t. I’m here. So please stop acting like I’m dead because I might start believing you.” You tried to sound as stern as you could whilst being physically and emotionally drained, and whilst it may have sounded a little weak, Logan knew what you were trying to do. 

He ran a hand through his messy hair which was in desperate need of a wash. Although so were you, you could only imagine. “I didn’t want our last conversation to be an argument.” He murmured, and you sighed as heavily as you could whilst not being able to inhale very deeply. 

“So melodramatic,” you joked with a half-smile, and it took a moment of his eyes scanning your face before his shoulders slumped, huffing a singular laugh through crooked lips. 

“Maybe a little…” he looked up at you through lidded eyes. “Fear doesn’t come naturally t’me. But I don’t think I’ve been more scared than when I was watchin’ you fall, knowin’ I could do nothin’.” 

You finally mustered the strength to reach for him, and he clasped your outstretched hand between both of his like a prayer. You considered for a moment what you would have done had your roles been swapped. If you were so helpless to save him from almost certain death. If you were forced to watch in nearly slow motion as the object of your heart was being ripped away from you and you were powerless against it. Because this was something more than a crush, more than admiration. You loved him. It wasn’t a sudden lightbulb moment, but rather a slow realisation of admission. You loved him. Irrevocably. Possibly irresponsibly. But certainly undeniably. 

“You don’t have to be scared anymore. I’m not dead. I’m not going to die. It’s gonna take time, but I’m okay. And I’m going to be okay.” You implored, and you could almost watch the cogs turning in his head, working on believing you and realising the truth of the situation. 

You. Were. Alive.

He nodded silently, finally accepting what everyone had been trying to tell him for almost a week and a half now. His thumb grazed the tendons of your wrist, the delicate caress sending shivers down your scarred spine. 

“How’re you feeling?” He asked though he couldn’t help thinking it was the most stupid question in the world. 

“Like I just fell over two hundred feet after being blown up.” You responded dryly. Ask obvious questions, get obvious answers. 

Obviously. 

“That checks out.”

“Thank you, Doctor Wolverine.”

How you’d managed to almost die and yet maintain your humour was a mystery to Logan, but it simply added to all the reasons he was completely taken with you. You were easily one of the strongest people he knew, in spite of your own self-consciousness. The way you felt about your wings had already proven that. They were the greatest source of your diffidence, and yet you often said how incomplete you would feel without them. He saw how you battled, every day, between loving and hating them. Not many people did, but he did. 

Perhaps that was because, to him, you were the focal point of every conversation. The spotlight in the room. The brightest star in the sky. Not only did he see you, but he saw you. 

That was when he remembered your words from earlier. ‘My wings’ve seen worse…’   

“What did you mean?”

“When?”

“When you said your wings have been worse. What did you mean?” 

Logan knew he’d struck a nerve when your wry humour dissolved from your face, and he watched you withdraw back into your own mind, another silence creating a barrier between you. It was another mental battle. He could see it. And he could only hazard a guess that you were struggling between opening yourself up to whatever traumas you’d experienced in the past, or staying closed and comfortable. 

“This world is cruel and cold to people like us…” your voice was barely audible, and despite his enhanced hearing, Logan found himself shifting closer, drawn in by your siren’s whisper. “I was always jealous of people who could hide their mutation. Or mutations that didn’t take on a physical appearance, anyway. Because hiding something like phasing or shapeshifting is easy. Hiding a pair of giant fucking wings? Get’s a little harder when not everyone around you is very accepting…” you were being vague on purpose. Taking yourself back to the day Charles found you was never easy, and it was this exact reason why you kept this to yourself. Only he knew what happened, and Jean was the only other one who’d seen your condition. 

Logan fought the urge to run his fingers through your feathers, slightly worried it would hurt you more than it would soothe you, since most of your secondary feathers had been burned away or torn off, and the exposed ligaments had been covered in bandages. You took a breath before you continued. “The neighbourhood where I lived wasn’t exactly high-end, and less than welcoming to mutants. I used to listen to a lot of music when I left my apartment, it helped to drown out the insults and hatred but uh, it also prevented me from hearing anyone following me.

“It was stupid. I was tired and forgot to lock my fucking door before I fell asleep that night. Such an idiot. And I paid the price. I can’t really remember exactly when it happened, and it’s all sort of a blur to be honest. I never saw their faces either, and I only knew they were there when they shoved a gag between my teeth and held me down, jeering about me being a disgusting mutant, the usual bullshit…” you trailed off, your words sticking to your throat like molasses as you recounted possibly the most traumatic moment of your life. Narrowly holding the top spot after recent events. “They uh, tried to sever them. My wings. Used a carving knife or a paring knife, hell it could have been a butter knife for all I knew. But it hurt. And I couldn’t fight them off. I probably still have the scars. They were barely attached by the time they were startled by something and took off.”

Logan placed his hand against your cheek, gently smoothing away the stray tear sliding down the side of your face with the pad of his thumb. 

“That’s why you don’t sleep on your front?”

“That’s why I don’t sleep on my front,” You affirmed with a timid nod, and Logan felt his heart clench painfully. He always wondered where your intense passion for making the world a safer place came from. “At least,” you continued quietly. “Until you.”

His eyes widened a fraction, and it wasn’t hard to piece together what you meant. The night, two days before the mission. That was the first time you’d slept on your front since Charles and Jean found you all those years ago. That was why you mentioned it. That was why you were so adamant about it. 

Your vulnerability was taken advantage of and used to further the cycle of hatred and violence. 

“Sweetheart…” 

You couldn’t bear to hear the slight break in his voice, the horrified empathy creasing his brows. “So yeah. That’s what I meant. When I said they’ve been through worse. So actually, this really isn’t all that bad. They’ll recover. They did last time. Might be a while before I can fly again but I think I’m okay with that for a while, not sure I want to–” your rambling was cut short by the sudden decrease of proximity between the two of you. Was he always this close? Or had he shifted? Had you simply not noticed? Too lost in your second trip down trauma lane in the space of twenty minutes? You could feel his steady breaths fanning your cheeks.

“You’re safe. With me. An’ nothin’ like that will ever happen again. ‘M gonna look after you, angel. Promise.” His eyes flickered from your gaze, down to your lips, and back up in a silent request, and your body answered for you. Your eyes fluttered closed, heart igniting at the first graze of his soft lips against yours, the pain in your back forgotten as your skin prickled with shivers. 

The moment he felt you lean up into him as much as you could, Logan gasped through his nose, his fingers skirting up the side of your neck, pausing to feel your pulse before continuing to brace his palm against your jaw. He wanted to feel you, in any way he could and in any way you would let him, your lips dancing with his languidly. And through the salves and disinfectant, through the blood and the grease, the smoke clinging to your hair, he could just smell you. Amber and wood oak swirled through his senses, and he didn’t think it fair that you smelled like a fucking autumnal forest. 

You tried to push yourself up further toward him, a fresh wave of yearning hitting you like a fall from over two hundred feet, but your ribs barked in sharp protest, and you flinched back with a harsh hiss, your features scrunching in pain.

“Easy there, angel. ‘M not goin’ anywhere.” He breathed, and whilst you could detect genuine concern in his tone, there was also a hint of smug satisfaction.

“Sorry… got kinda carried away.” You clamped your lips together at his soft chuckle, finding immeasurable comfort in the way his thumb smoothed along your under-eye.”

“Been wantin’ to do that for a while…” He murmured against your lips, and you drew back as far as you could without jostling your back too much.

“Really? How long?”

“Round a year or so.”

You blanched. “A year!?”

“Give or take a few months,” he shrugged, unable to tame the delicious grin pulling at his lips. 

“And you didn’t think to do anything?” You asked incredulously, eyes flicking between his, unable to decide just where they wanted to settle. 

“Inappropriate in the workplace.” He shrugged nonchalantly, and your eyes widened further. 

“We live under the same roof! This isn’t just a workplace.”

“Potato pot-ah-to.”

“No! Potato potato. It’s the same thing!”

He raised a sly brow. “Didn’t see ya pull back, angel. How long’ve you wanted this then?”

You clamped your lips shut, your face a picture of false irritation as he turned your own accusations back onto you, a triumphant glint dancing in his eye. “Thought s’much.”

A huff brushed his chin, though you couldn’t tame your guilty smile for long. Yes, he was absolutely right. You’d wanted to do that for far longer than you cared to admit. And the phrase ‘good things come to those who wait’ couldn’t ring more true. Though you couldn’t help thinking they should change the phrase slightly. 

‘Good things come to those who nearly die’. Yeah, that sounded more accurate. 

Your head lulled against his hand, a tugging wave of exhaustion pulling at your mind, your eyes feeling heavy with sleep. It was strange. Usually, you found it so difficult to find rest, tossing and turning until you simply couldn’t take it anymore. But not in his presence. Not when Logan was with you. 

He hummed a soft, fond smile of understanding, pulling the chair closer to the bed so he could still be near you. Pressing his lips to your forehead, you sighed in contentment, your hand holding his arm in a soft grip, silently asking him not to go anywhere. But you didn’t need to. He had no plans on leaving you anytime soon. 

“Sleep, angel. ‘M here. You’re safe.”

[tpwk-formula1]

Holy sh*t, how did you make your menu look that amazing?! I'm in awe no joke. So this is gonna be rough, brace with me (my english sucks.) So could i order a deep dish pizza with alfredo sauce, basil, banana peppers, spinach, roasted mushrooms, goat cheese, eggplant and Oregano. (Damn thats a lot oop-. Kind of sounds disgusting IRL but we dont judge.) With a sprite, Truly and a mojito plus a little dessert. Served by Oliver Bearman please? Thank youuuu <3 (its okay if you're too busy for this)

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

deep dish teammates to lovers alfredo sweet sex basil "I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy" banana peppers "Look so pretty riding my cock" spinach "Awe I love to know I stretched you out just enough to take all my cock" roasted mushroom “Fucking you so good you I can see myself in your tummy” goat cheese "Look so pretty like this" eggplant "Are you sure you want me to take it baby?" oregano "Please, let me cum in you" sprite size kink truly belly bulge mojito loss of virginity dessert yes served by Ollie Bearman

TW - virginity loss. unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, sweet/ slow sex

WC 2100+

Y/N POV

"Have you seen Kimi?" I ask Dino since he was the first personal I saw when I ended into the F3 part of the Paddock.

"No, why would he be here?" Dino asks me laughing slighly at the panic in my voice.

"It's Kimi he ends up wherever he pleases," I respond back with a soft laugh falling from my lips making Dino nod in aggreeance.

"I'll catch you later! Good luck later," I call out to Dino as I speed walk away from the F2 paddock and towards the F1 paddock to try and find my best friend.

"Oh thank god, can you tell Kimi to come here," I say to George when I stop him outside of the Mercedes hospitality where he had told me Kimi was in there.

"Just come with me! I'm sure he's in his little drivers room," George tells me making me nod and follw him into the hosipitality where he found Kimi in his room.

"I need to talk to you, I'm freaking out," I tell him once I closed the door behind me.

"What's got you freaking out?" KImi asks as he set his phone down.

"I lied to Oillie, and now the lie is hitting me in the face," I reply back.

"Okay drop the cryptic messages you're not Taylor Swift what the fuck is going on?" Kimi asks clearly getting frustrated.

"I never told Ollie I was a virgin and I turn all his advances down but not he's convinced I don't want to be with him and I don't know how to fix this," I quickly tell Kimi while paces the small space.

"Just tell him. You have him stressed. Came in here acting the same fucking way. Like you guys were made for eahc other. Just be honest," Kimi tells me softly when we hear a knock on the door.

"Love, I know you're in there," Ollie calls out makig me look at Kimi with wide eyes not ready to tell him right in this moment.

"I got to go," Kimi says with a smirk getting out of bed and opening the door for Ollie and letting us have a moment alone.

"What's been going on?" Ollie asks getting straight to the point.

"Ollie I love you I swear and I want to be with you but I'm scared," I say softly making Ollie look at me with a raised brow clearly needing more information.

"I'm- I- I've never had sex and I thought I could keep it a secret from you but then everytime we get close to doing anything more than oral I freak out," I tell him softly while looking at my hands.

I feel Ollie step towards me and take my hands into his while he tells me to look at him.

"Love, I've known you were a virgin since the moment I touched you," Ollie admits softly making me look up at him with a raised brow.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" I ask back making Ollie laugh a little.

"I think that's something you're supposed to tell me. I never wanted to push the subject but I couldn't have sex with you until you told me which is why I prentended to think you were lying to me about something," Ollie admits that this was all a set up basically.

"You set me up to admit that I was a virgin?" I ask with a raised brow making Ollie laugh and nod his head.

"It worked, didn't it. I'm in no way trying to rush sex, I just couldn't have sex with you until you admitted it. Now we can have a conversation about everything when the time comes," Ollie tells me softly while pulling me into his arms and placing a soft kiss on my lips.

"Soon," I respond back against his lips letting him know my timeline.

"There's no rush," Ollie responds back then places a kiss on my forehead.

Over the following few days I think about Ollie and I sleeping together more and more before I finally decided I was ready.

“Ollie I wanna do it tonight,” I tell him softly as we lay in his apartment.

“Are you sure? We’re in no kind of rush love,” Ollie tells me softly making me smile and nod my head.

“I’m ready and I wanna share that part of me with you,” I tell him softly making him smile.

“Tonight,” he tells me with a kiss to the forehead as we relax back into the couch and enjoy the random movie he had thrown on.

As the rest of the day passes I get progressively more nervous at the thought of sleeping with Ollie but there's a bigger part of me that's more excited.

When we climb into bed for the night I pull myself into Ollie's lap and start kissing his lips leading the way as much as my confidence will allow me.

"Are you sure you want me to take it baby?" Ollie asks as I start grinding down on his lap whimpering at the pleasure coursing through my body.

"Please Ollie! I only want it to be you," I tell him softly while stopping my grinding and looking Ollie in the eye.

"Okay, we'll go at your pace," Ollie tells me while pulling me back into another kiss while he starts pulling my shirt off leaving me in a pair of cotton panties.

"So beautiful," Ollie announces as he lets his eyes rake over my bare body.

"Ollie, please," I whine grinding down more feeling Ollie start to grow under me.

"Fuck, love," Ollie groans. I start pulling off Ollie's shirt with his help leaving him in just a pair of briefs.

Ollie flips us over leaving my back pressed against the mattress as Ollie is hoovering over me leaving wet kisses all over my neck and collarbones.

"Are you sure love?" Ollie confirms once again making me nod my head.

"Yes, I've never been so sure," I tell Ollie making him smile softly. This my final consent Ollie pulls off my panties and licks a strip from my dripping hole to my sensitive clit making me moan rather loudly when I feel his tongue graze my clit.

"Fuck, such a sweet little thing," Ollie says before he dives in and starts eating me out like a mad man.

"Fuck," I cry getting overwhelmed with the pleasure rather quickly. Ollie starts to slip 2 fingers deep into my pussy making me whimper at the stretch.

While Ollie and I had done a lot together feeling him slip his fingers into my pussy knowing he was soon gonna be slipping his cock into me the pleasure is far more overwhelming.

"Fuck, feel so good around my fingers," Ollie whispers while fingering me trying to prep me as much as possible to take his cock.

"I'm ready, please," I whine when I feel my orgasm start to build knowing I wanted to cum around Ollie's cock and not his fingers.

"Fuck, okay," Ollie says clearly showing some of his nerves.

"Oliver, love. Are you sure you are ready? You seem really nervous," I ask softly with a smile making Ollie look at me with hooded eyes.

"Yes, just don't want to hurt you," Ollie admits softly.

"Love, it's gonna hurt a bit no matter what, but I'm ready and I want you," I reassure once again while pulling him closer.

Ollie finally relaxes at my touch and starts to pull his boxers off.

"Fuck, baby I don't have any protection. I probably should have got some after our conversation a few days ago but I forgot. I can run to the corner store really quick," Ollie says once his boxers were pulled off.

"It's okay! I'm on birth control," I tell him softly while pulling him closer not caring about protection in this very moment.

"Ollie, I need it right now, please," I beg. Ollie just groans when he realizes how desperate I was.

"Fuck, okay," Ollie groans as he starts teasing my clit with his hard cock.

Seeing Ollie from this angle makes me realize how massive his cock truly is.

"Fuck, you're so big," I whine out when I feel the tip of his cock poking around my virgin hair.

"I'll be gentle I promise," Ollie grunts while slowly starting to push into me.

"Fuck Ollie," I cry out as the pain started to wash over him. Ollie completely stops all of his movements giving me some time to adjust before he starts pushing in again.

"Ollie," I whine when I feel him finally bottom out.

"Too big," I gasp trying to let my body relax.

"Look so pretty like this," Ollie groans out as he starts teasing my clit trying to get me to relax further so he could start rocking his hips.

"Fuck Ollie," I moan when the pain starts to fade and is replaced by an overwhelming pleasure. Ollie takes this as encouragement because he starts rocking his hips slowly trying to get me to adjust fulling to his size.

"Please, faster," I moan which instantly has Ollie thrusting into my soaked pussy while still teasing my clit.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I chant while growing closer to my orgasm.

“Fucking you so good you I can see myself in your tummy,” Ollie grunts out which has me looking down to see the bulge he had created in my tummy from his cock.

"Fuck Ollie, fucking massive," I moan while pushing down on the bulge in my tummy making the pleasure become overwhelming and instantly cumming all over Ollie's cock with a shout.

"Fuck," I cry while Ollie continues to fuck me through my orgasm.

Ollie starts slowing his thrusts down not wanting to overwhelm me which gives me an idea.

"I wanna ride you," I admit softly which has Ollie looking at me shocked.

"I'm serious Oliver, I want to ride your dick right now," I tell him seriously so he knows I want it.

"Fuck," Ollie grunts while softly slipping out of my soaked pussy and laying down on his back next to me. I climb into his lap and grind my soaked pussy on his hard cock watching as the pleasure starts coursing through his eyes. I lean up slightly while gripping his cock and angling it at my pussy before I slowly start to sink down.

"Fuck," I moan when I feel him stretching me out at a new angle.

"Fuck, feels so good," I moan when I'm fully seated on his cock with little to no pain.

"Awe I love to know I stretched you out just enough to take all my cock," Ollie grunts out as I start bouncing slightly on his cock.

"So good," I cry out as I start bouncing a bit faster as Ollie is thrusting up into me making the pleasure almost unbearable.

I continue fucking down onto his cock while he fucks up into my pussy bringing to closer to the edge again.

"Look so pretty riding my cock," Ollie grunts out which makes me start bouncing faster chasing my orgasm.

"Ollie, I'm close," I moan making Ollie lift my hips slightly and start thrusting into my pussy at a fast pace bringing me over the edge with a shout.

"Ollie," I moan while my legs instantly give out on me but Ollie holds me up and keeps fucking up into me.

"Fuck I'm close. Please, let me cum in you," Ollie grunts out making me look at him and nod softly.

"Cum in me Ollie, please. Wanna feel your cum deep in me," I say which instantly has Ollie's thrusts shudder slightly before he starts filling me up with his hot cum.

"Fuck," Ollie grunts while riding out his orgasm. Once he's started to come down he turns up over once again so he's hoovering over me before he slowly slips his cock out of me watching his cum start to leak from me.

"I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy," Ollie says softly before leaning down and kissing me forehead and climbing out of the bed.

"Why are you leaving me?" I ask softy instantly getting upset with Ollie leaving.

"Just gonna get you some water and a rag to clean you up," Ollie tells me softly while leaning down and pulling me in for a quick kiss.

I watch Ollie disappear out of his bedroom and into another room to get me water while going into the bathroom after and grabbing a warm rag before coming back into the room and instantly wiping me down.

"I'm sorry," Ollie whispers when I whine at his touch clearly too overstimulated.

"I love you Ollie," I tell him softly when he climbs back into the bed.

"I love you too," Ollie replies back pulling me into his chest and letting me relax into his warm embrace.

[sweet3nerrr]

billie putting the strap on u for the first time and letting u fuck her🤭 but still being dom af and also praise

don’t worry

strapping billie for the first time

yk i loveee blonde billie fr

————-

“how was that?”, billie said out of breath as she pulled out of you. you looked at her with satisfaction, pulling her in to kiss you. “terrible”, you laughed as she wrapped her arms around your waist. you knew the scratches on her back told her enough.

“hey i wanna try something, okay?”, she whispered, lips grazing yours. staring at her with curious eyes, you watched as she took off her strap, her own gaze fixed on your cum that soaked the entire length. “i want you to try it on me, can you do that pretty girl?”.

you’d never used a strap before but really wanted to. “mhm but-”, “i know, i’ll talk you through it babe”, she smirked as she helped you get it on. a lot tricker than you thought. billie looked behind you, seeing how it sat on you. “need me to do it?”, she asked tracing her fingers along the fabric. you shook your head, pulling the harness tighter. “do i?”, “yeah, just above your clit”, she reached over positioning the cock perfectly against you. the unfamiliar feeling shot small sparks as you let out a soft whimper.

she leaned back, thrusting her hips up so that you could position yourself in front of her. spreading her legs, she played with herself for second before locking eyes with you. “taste it”. your lips wrapped around her fingers, sucking them clean. her teeth sunk into her lip as you moved so that you were now aligned with her. you both stared at the strap, your juices still coating it. “i want you to fuck your cum into me”, she groaned as your arms came either side of her.

“holy fuck”, she whined as you pushed into her. you never fully believed her when she told you she could feel it but fuck. she was right. “you’re so fucking tight bils”, you let out as you began building a pace. “like this?”, your voice high as you scanned her face for validation. her fucking beautiful, ocean like piercing eyes had you going crazy. “mhm, harder babe”, she slurred.

you were holding yourself up, face craning near her neck as you began thrusting roughly into her. “you’re doing so good”, she whispered, her hand holding your jaw. lips clashing, your tongues swirled wildly as you tried eagerly to hit her spot. “faster, that’s it”, she growled gripping at your arms.

the way her face screwed with pleasure, her lips parted so pretty, her chest rising rapidly, you were weak. you wanted to give it her so bad. billie watched you, sensing you were waiting for her approval. a soft, gentle laugh left her mouth as she held your hips. “such a good girl, making me so proud”. her low tone sent shivers down your body, drilling your hips powerfully into her.

“really?”, your voice shaking as you felt the tension burning inside you. “ye- ffuck, right there”, she threw her head back, desperate for air. something about the way she was breaking under you drove you as you fucked into your girlfriend. “don’t stop, don’t ff-fucking stop, oh my god”, she cried as she came bucking against you.

billies thighs shook slightly as she rode out her high, your thrusts softer. you were unsure what to do next, giving her a look as she told you to pull out slowly. “not so fast, i wanna see myself on it”. her cum painted the whole thing, dripping at the base. she let out a quiet grunt knowing it had yours on too. “how was that?”, you asked shyly, avoiding eye contact. “hmm, terrible”. “stop, shut up”, you hit her playfully as she laughed at herself teasing you.

“you were so, fucking good angel”.

[igotanidea]

Coke and disappointment: Jason Todd x reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI!, friends to lovers, bad date on reader's part

Summary: when a date goes wrong, who's better to talk to if not a best friend. Even if that best friend happens to secretly have feelings for you and the complaining may actually push him over the edge...

A/N: sorry for the typos and mistakes, no time to proofread :D I'll fix it later :D

***

He was a fool.

A stupid, idiotic fucker who was too stubborn to speak up.

Too scared to tell the girl he liked that he liked her.

And now he was about to lose her.

Jason let out a shaky exhale, feeling his heart shutter at the thought she was about to move on with her life and leave him alone. Again. And then he punched the wall in a poor attempt at transforming that sadness into rage.

Rage was easier and he knew how to navigate it.

He took in the surroundings of his apartment, a little cluttered and shabby, but still it was the place he called his. Just last night she was casually lunging on his couch, texting on her phone with that stupid smile that always made his heart melt.

She was texting him. That other guy who obviously did not deserve her.  HE could have been the prince charming himself, be a gentleman with the look, but in Jason’s opinion he did not deserve her.

She was so close on that stupid couch.

So close.

All he had to do was take one step forward, take the phone from her hands and fucking tell her how he felt.

And then she jumped in the air, laughing and spinning around, proudly announcing she had a date.

And suddenly she was not so close anymore. Almost like those three words made a mountain grow between them.

A mountain, a sea, a valley and a desert.

His words died in his throat and he just smirked, throwing his usual meaningly funny comment and shut his heart once more.

And now he was spread on the same couch she was yesterday, with a bottle of beer in his hand, thinking stupid thoughts.

***

“Are you drinking without me?” the door swung open and Y/n walked inside like she owned the place, almost immediately heading towards the fridge and grabbing herself a bottle of cola zero.

“The hell Y/N? The hell you’re doing here?!”

“Can’t I just pop in at my friend’s place?” she raised an eyebrow and took a sip of her drink.

“Oh, no, you know what, by all means come in at any time. What if I was with someone?” Jason hissed in response, moving on the couch to make space for her.

“Well then, if so, you should remember to close the door.  As much as I wouldn’t mind the show, I’m pretty sure the girl you’ll be taking advantage of would not be delighted with an onlooker.”

“You’re disgusting Y/N.” Jason sighed with a hint of a smirk.

“But I’m not wrong, am I?” she grinned and poked his ribs playfully.

“No. No you are not.”

“Yeah…”

That yeah coming from her was supposed to be said in a funny tone, but came out a little desperate, the silence that fell after only added to that sensation.

“Hey Y/n/n?”

“Hm?”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“About what?”

“You know what.” Jason frowned and cupped her chin making her look at him

“That little failure of something that I already romanticized in my head before?”

“Yeah. About that.”

“Actually, yes, let’s talk about it. Maybe you can tell me what is wrong with today’s men.”

“Oh, shit talking the fucker that clearly made you upset. I’m game.” Jason stood up gathering another beer and coke from the fridge, getting ready for the long conversation. “Do tell.” With the force he jumped back on the couch, Y/N flew a few inches in the air.

“He came late.” She started and Jason booed “he was dressed as if it was a beach or something. And then he took me to the park—”

“Hopefully those punches and moves I taught you helped?”

“Right, cause we were fighting squirrels.” Y/N rolled her eyes “come on, be serious, it was the middle of the day in a public place. Using those punches will only make me get attention to myself. I settled on the good old kick in the groin.

Jason laughed. It was obvious the meeting did not go well.

“He was only talking about himself. Like all the time. Never once asking a thing about me.”

“You could have started talking yourself. I’m pretty sure the fucker had to make breaks for breathing?”

“Actually, I’m starting to believe he’s that one parasite that scientists discovered and that does not.”

“A parasite huh?”

“Pretty much so.”

“So, he took you to the café?”

“Nope.”

“Nope?”

“Nope.”

“Wait, you’re serious!?” Jason turned abruptly to meet her eyes. “So the hell were you two doing?”

“Walking in the park?” Y/N raised an eyebrow “just told you?”

“For two hours?! How big was this fucking park?”

“Well….” Her gaze traveled lower and she started fidgeting with her fingers.

“What else?”

“Nothing.”

“What else, Y/N?” Jason almost groaned in frustration.

“At some point we took a turn and had to literally bush-bash.”

“No!” much to her surprise Jason started guffawing

“Hey, stop laughing! It was not funny! I had a dress!”

“Oh, poor little you.” He cackled even harder. “You don’t really want my opinion on that so-called “date” do you?”

“Of course not. I’m not exactly blind to red flags. I just wanted to vent.”

“You can be blind to red flags sometimes.” Jason muttered, quickly drowning the words with the sip of a drink.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“You’re spending time with me, instead with one of your girlfriends.”

“I don’t have girlfriends and your red flags are the reason why you are my friend and why there would never be anything else.”

Ouch. That was like a punch to the guts.

“What if there was?” he blurted without thinking, only because the bottle turned out empty and he couldn’t swallow the bile.

“What--?” with a broken word and the way her eyes focused on his face, Jason knew there was no going back. It was now or never.

“What if there was Y/N? What if there was something more…?” with a gentle touch he grabbed her coke and put it on the nearby table, instead intertwining their fingers. “What if—”

“Jason, don’t—”

“Don’t tell me to stay in the shadows while you keep dating men that can’t even take you for coffee!” he yelled and it made her stumble backwards, letting go of his hands. “Fuck! Why can’t you see it?!

“See what…?”

“You deserve –” he started, but she cut him off.

“No. No, don’t you dare tell me that I deserve someone better. I don’t really see men lining up for me” Y/N chuckled dryly “I’m not a teen anymore, soon my expiration date will come and –“

“Shut up!” he hissed, in a blink of an eye finding himself on the other side of the couch, his eyes boring a hole into her face, his hands aching to do so many things… “You deserve more than a mindless stroll in the park, not that the walk itself is a bad thing. You deserve to be spoiled and –“

“Please don’t…”

“If anything more, you at least deserve a good orgasm.” He groaned, unable to control himself anymore, eyes filled with lust and unspoken promises of pleasure.

She was so close. Once again. Only now, he wasn’t going to cross the line. It was her choice. If she wanted to walk out and close the door on him – fine. This would hurt like hell, but eventually Jason would get over it.

But it was her choice and there was no way he would take advantage of her.

As if making her hot and bothered with the look in his eyes, the closeness and the heat from his presence and words was not taking advantage.

***

Y/N was lost only for a second.

It’s been so long since she’s been touched. So long since she felt anyone in that way. And her body needed it.

God knows she needed it.

And she had no power to swim against the tide, grabbing the front of his shirt and kissing him.

***

Jason reacted instinctively.

His strong hands moved to her waist, pulling her on top of him, starting to grind against her, even through their clothes.

He was going to make her feel so good.

So fucking good, taking her to the places she’s never been before.

Only for her. Just for her.

Her.

Now not only in his thoughts and crazy fantasies, but in flesh and bone in his arms, on his couch, pliant and needy for attention.

“Jason….” His lips moved from her lips to her neck, brushing over her pulse point.

“Jason…” his hands rolled her dress up until it was on her waist.

“Jason…” the word became hoarse and breathy when he lifted her up so she was now straddling him.

And he was only just beginning.

Teasing her with one finger, pulling her panties away, feeling the wetness already seeping on his jeans. She was so ready for him just from a few touches. How touch starved and neglected she must have been if just a little foreplay was enough?

“You’re mine tonight…” he groaned into her ear. “Mine. Say it Y/N…”

“Yours…” she whimpered, shuddering at the way his index finger inched closer to her heat.

“Yeah. Mine.” For Jason it felt just right to call her his.

“Please….”

“Not yet baby.”

“Don’t be mean… You promised me—”

“A good time. And that’s exactly what you’ll get. But not like that.”

“Then what—Ah!”

Her cry of surprise tore the air as he grabbed her by the waist, lifted her in the air and carried towards the bedroom, miraculously avoiding all the stuff on the floor. Once in the room, with one hand around her, he threw the cover alongside every little thing on it onto the floor, making quite a noise. But what was a little background mess in comparison to the passion they were both experiencing right now.

They were clearly not friends now, but it was not important.

All the labels, unanswered questions and doubts left their heads as fast as their clothes started flying in all the directions. Bra on the lamp, boxers on the bedpost, shirt on the floor, a mess of clothes in the foot of the bed.

They didn’t care.

All that mattered at that moment was his lips on hers, her hands in his hair, the way his fingers kept pumping in and out of her prepping her for what was coming and the smell of her arousal in the air.

And those moans of pleasure that hit his ear made him hard enough to drill through the concrete.

“So wet…” he muttered

“So good!” she cried out arching her back, turning into a wanton, a bitch, not caring in the slightest about losing control. It felt good to just let go.

“Yeah?” he breathed out pulling fingers out of her, now coated with her juices. “Good?” Jason made sure to trace them up her body, spreading wetness on her stomach, her breasts with those deliciously pert nipples just begging to be abused and finally on her mouth. As if knowing she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from licking those plump red lips in a motion that was both innocent and obscene. “I'll show you good…”

With a groan, almost losing control, he spread her legs, hovering over her, leaning so close that his breath was hitting her face and his chest pressed against her breasts creating unbearable friction.

“Jason… Jason, please…” she squirmed, arched, begged and pleaded.

“I’ll give you everything you need…” he promised, leaning on forearms, slowly pushing inside her, mindful of every expression on her face. Only upon making sure she was feeling the pleasure and not the pain, his eyes moved lower, watching his cock disappear in her.

The dirty look that once again shuttered the fundamentals of his self-control.  

“More!” she cried out, closing eyes, grabbing his shoulders, earning a groan from him.

“Fuckin more!”

There was no interim between bottoming out and adjusting to his size and frenzied pace of lovemaking. They just went from 0 to 100 in a blink of an eye.

He was gripping the headrest, too scared to touch her body In fear he’ll break her from the force. His forearms were straining from the power in those strong arms and Y/N knew he could snap her like a branch. Instead, somewhere deep inside that lust filled brain, he was still focused on her well being and safety.

Not that she could say the same about the way his cock was thrusting. Pulling in and out of her like she was made out of a rubber, shaping her to his girth, making sure to leave the memories of that night not only in her brain but also gouging the flutes on her pussy. For she was his.

Crying out his name

Touching him.

Letting him feel that tight wetness groping him like a vice.

So fucking tight only proving the point that she didn’t get nearly enough sex as she deserved.

“Tell me-“ he gasped, leaning his forehead on hers with sweaty hair clinging to it “How many times before you’ve came-“

“I – I don’t – I can’t-„ she cried out when he lifted her hips, changing the angle hitting deeper, harder, more intensely, effectively silencing all the thoughts. All she could focus on then was matching his pace, keeping that delicious stretch going, igniting the friction, running hands all over his back, holding him tight enough to not fly out into space right away.

“Tell me baby. I need you to say it.” He muttered between ragged breath, feeling his own release knocking at the door more and more stridently.

“Ne- never!” she cried out “Please!”

“Cum for me sweetheart.” He whispered in her ear with the silent promise of catching her and keeping her safe.

And he knew she believed him when her sobs, cries and gasps of climax filled the room, completing the scent of sex with the sound of pleasure.

Perfection incarnated in the form of a sin.

***

“Go on a date with me…”

Once they both came out from their high, laying side by side in the bed-

Once he dared to let out that soft side of his feelings, tracing circles on her sensitive body –

Once the arousal and horniness was gone-

There was no regret. No oh-my-god-what-have-we-done moment.

In fact, in some crazy way, it all seemed natural. Like both Jason and Y/N knew that it was bound to happen and their sex was not an accident or a mistake.

But a date?

“I’m serious, Y/N. Go on a date with me.”

“You don’t owe me—”

“It’s not about owing, baby. I want it. To be able to hold your hand in public, to beat to pulp every single guy that comes too close to you. To kiss you under the moonlight. To walk you home after and come upstairs just to cuddle on the couch together.”

“You sure?” she teased, laying her upper body on top of his, looking into his eyes with a happy smile “that would ruin your reputation as a cold and heartless motherfucker.”

"Some people are worth sacrificing like that…”

“Must be someone special.” Y/N whispered, her heart fluttering at the sensitivity Jason was expressing now.

“She is. A one in the million.” He tangled fingers in her hair, unable to tear his eyes from her naked form next to him.

The happiest fucker in the universe.

And to think she came to his place only to have a coke and complain about a bad date.

Coke and disappointment turning into a chance at a relationship.  

[robo-writing]

Hi! I love your writing and have had a shit day. Basically car troubles and a flat tire. All I could think about was Logan ‘yelling’ at me for not asking for his help and being upset I tried to do everything myself. Could you write something like this with an established relationship? Just super soft and fluffy with Logan just being scared you could’ve gotten hurt. Thanks! ♥️

Oh no, I’m so sorry you had a bad day today! Hopefully tomorrow’s better!

Today’s just proof that Murphy’s law is still alive and true. You’ve tried every single troubleshooting method you can think of and still your car refuses to just fucking work.

It gets to a point, it really fucking does.

Your head hits the steering wheel, too tired to care about the loud blaring that follows. “For the love of god, please move,” you beg, and you hear the best noise you’ve ever heard in your life—the sound of your engine whirring to life.

“Yes, yes!” You cry, hands immediately moving to the steering wheel. You start thanking every deity you know and then some, slowly

Unfortunately for you, luck is not on your side. You get maybe half a mile before you feel the car jump, followed by the worst sound of your life—the air escaping from your tire.

You feel the tears welling in your eyes, defeat sinking down into your very core. You don’t even have the strength to curse, staring ahead into the empty road as your view gets lower and lower. The thought of swapping your tire crosses your mind, but you’re so mentally drained that even getting out of your car seems impossible.

So, you sit in the drivers seat and cry while the sun goes down. By the time you compose yourself the sky bleeds orange, your phone ringing with an all too familiar contact number.

Begrudgingly you pick up, the sound of your husband’s voice clear through the receiver. “Hey honey, haven’t heard from you all day.”

Silence.

“Sweetheart, you there?”

“Y-Yeah,” you answer. “I’m here.”

You can almost hear his expression through the phone—you imagine he’s suddenly on alert from the sound of his footsteps, worry in his voice. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

The words bring a flood of emotion through you—rage, sadness, mostly defeat. You feel yourself shaking again as a fresh wave of tears begin to fall down your cheeks.

“My engine broke Lo,” you sniffle. “It broke, and I tried to fix it but it wouldn’t—it wouldn’t turn on and I tried—“

You’re hyperventilating now, and somewhere far away you can hear Logan telling you to calm down, but it only makes you panic even further. “It wouldn’t work, and I did everything right and then it did! And I was so happy Lo, thought I did everything right and right when I started moving I got a flat fucking tire and everything’s going wrong and—“

“Honey, breathe, please,” he pleads through the phone, but you’re still crying. “Stay where you are, I’ve got you on gps, I’ll be there in ten.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, wiping at your wet face with the back of your hand. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault—“

“No, no, we are not doing that,” he interrupts. “Stay where you are, I’m coming to you, don’t panic, okay?”

You sniffle, nodding your head. “Y-Yeah, okay.”

“Say it back to baby, say you won’t panic.”

You nod again. “I won’t—I won’t panic.”

“Good,” he replies, the telltale jingle of car keys loud through the phone. “Want me to stay with you on the phone while I drive?”

“Please,” you say, still trying to steady yourself. From the corner of your eye you see yourself, and you look like a wreck. Red in the face, fingers and clothes stained from working on the engine, ugly black smudges that only serve to remind you of your failure.

“Hey, focus on my voice, alright?” He says. “I’m almost there, just keep calm.”

What was only a few minutes felt like hours, the sight of his car coming over the horizon enough to bring you to tears for the third time today.

“Hey, hey, you’re alright,” he coos, pulling you out from the car with a hand against your back. “You’re good, everything’s fine.”

You’re trembling in his arms, guilt flowing through him at the sight of you in pain. You’re holding onto him so tightly, as if he’d disappear if you didn’t. Your first words to him are a mess, and all he can do is rub your head as you get it all out. “I’m sorry for making you come here.”

He shakes his head in disagreement, placing a kiss to the top of your head. “Don’t be sorry, I’m happy to be here. Next time you’re in trouble, just call me, okay honey?”

[charlottes-diary-entries]

Hello love! I absolutely adore your writing, I was wondering if maybe you could do a poly!mauraders x reader where maybe the reader got injured somehow (maybe quditch?) and the mauraders are like all worried and stuff? Totally fine if you don’t want to do it, I just got injured at my competition and I’m feeling sorry for myself 😂

baby i feel your self-pity, i hate getting benched from injuries!! it's the total worst and i hope you heal quickly, but in the mean time here's something special! it turned more into an independent reader struggling with being worried over, but i hope you enjoy darling. <3

CW: injuries, but thats about it <3

The sound of the students in the stands could only be described as a frightening roar during the match. Through some drizzling rain, Gryffindors and Slytherins had poured out of their common rooms by the dozens to witness the match, which had become increasingly intense.

Foul plays from Slytherins, attempts at similar plays from Gryffindor (which James shut down immediately with a reprimanding and a few threats of what practice would become should such poor sportsmanship continue). You had dodged more ill-aimed bludgers than you could count, and as the wind picked up and the rain got heavier, it was all you could do to stay on your broom.

And at some point, even that became unmanageable.

You could have sworn you'd just blinked and suddenly the noise in your ears increased ten-fold, deafening you, and there were these horrible stars in your eyes.

Then you were on the ground, and there were lots and lots of people around you, and you couldn't really see right, and-

"Shit, shit, shit, love! Shit!"

Was that James?

"What happened? What the fuck happened? Was this one of the snakes, because I swear to fuck-"

Sirius?

They kept shouting, until someone else (a professor?) was shouting at them to quiet down. A lot of movement, fuzzy, dizzying movement, then someone was picking you up and suddenly falling asleep felt like a very, very nice idea.

"No, no, no dove, stay up for us, yeah? I don't- Maybe falling asleep isn't a good idea okay?"

Ah, so Remus was carrying you. You tried to lift a hand to your eyes, to hide from the light, or hide from Remus, or something, but you could barely feel your hand. Scratch that, your entire arm felt like it'd been pulled clean off.

Tears began to slip down your cheeks because fuck, now that you thought about it, your head really, really hurt. Your whole body was burning in pain.

"Oh, don't cry dovey, please, don't cry, Madame Pomfrey'll fix you up so quick, you won't even know..."

You lost the rest of his sentence as you began to drift away. Not that you really wanted to, it just felt much, much easier than staying awake...

All that was what had landed you here, benched at Quidditch with a pair of sunglasses on, a nasty cast around your left arm, and what your boys had deemed a permanent frown that worsened by the minute.

You had woken from the concussion very early the next morning to find an extremely frantic Sirius at the foot of your bed. He kissed you and talked while Remus and James were both still asleep, holding hands as they sat by your bed. Apparently, Sirius couldn't sleep he was so worried about you.

(The conversation didn't get much further than that as Pomfrey entered and began to shoo off the boys. Poor Remus and James only got to give you quick "I Love You's" before being firmly ushered out.)

You had been on bed rest the entire day, Pomfrey also dealing with a freak accident from a first-year potions class. Several children with boils and fevers and a need for so much attention that Pomfrey could not spend time brewing fresh Skele-Gro for you, hence, the traditionally muggle healing methods on your arm. Her potion for your concussion was helping you heal faster, but damn did it make every light blinding.

James had determined you banned from Quidditch practice until you were fully healed. While you understood his reasoning, it did not mean you had to be happy about being benched.

"Lighten up please, darling, glaring at them isn't going to make your head better."

You turned to glower at Remus instead, who sat to your right and handed you a cauldron cake. He smiled brightly and bumped your shoulder before kissing your forehead. Your frown deepened immensely.

"Maybe so, but it's certainly making me feel better knowing they know how much I hate this."

"Am I really such horrid company?" Remus said, a cheeky grin on his face. You rolled your eyes (which definitely did not hurt your head) and turned back to watch James and Sirius fly about in the air. You leaned your head on his shoulder and shut your eyes.

"No," You began, "I just wish I could be up there."

Remus's grin dropped and he placed a kiss to your temple before leaning his head against yours.

"I know dove."

You watched them continue their drills in silence and you had begun to eat your treat when Remus spoke up again.

"Though, it is nice to have you for company. I finally have someone else to ogle the boys with."

At this you snorted, looking up again to follow James and Sirius in the air.

"Yeah, they are pretty hot when they do their thing, huh?"

"Very. Very hot."

"Please, Sirius, my arm's fine now, I can carry my own bags-"

"Not if I have anything to say about it."

Sirius held your books out of your reach with a grin and you huffed, crossing your arms as you both walked to potions. None of the boys had let you carry anything the past week, which was sweet and very gentlemanly of them, but quickly beginning to bother you. Especially as Pomfrey had had you up in the Medical Wing very quickly, choking down Skele-Gro so your arm could heal. Was your arm a tad weaker than normal? Yes! Did it make you a helpless doll? Absolutely not!

"I'm completely serious-"

"No, I am!"

"Siri!" You tried to glare at him, snatching at your bag which he expertly kept to himself. "I can carry my own books, really, I'm fine."

"Hmm..." Sirius stopped cold and began to study you, inspecting you from head to toe. He stepped closer, grabbing your chin, which in turn made you gasp a little bit and lose some of your bravado. He tilted your head each way before grabbing your freshly healed arm and staring it down. You went to interrupt when he slipped your hand into his own and began pulling you along.

"Since you want to hold something so bad, you get me until we say you're alright."

You scoffed as an awful grin grew on his face.

"This is ridiculous. It's almost been a week and still."

"Still what, dove?" A new voice popped up, and James sidled up beside the two of you, taking your other hand.

Your face warmed a little bit as he leaned over to place a kiss on your cheek, but you rolled your eyes and powered on.

"Still you're all coddling me. I mean, you have to let me back on my broom someday, James. Can't keep me benched forever."

At this he frowned, growing a little more serious. "Darling, you need rest to heal. You still need those glasses outside and I'd rather play it safe with you. Don't want you mucking up a solid week of getting better just cause you couldn't wait to be back on a broom. It'd make me a bad captain to let you do that, and an even worse boyfriend."

Again, you grumbled, trying to accept their caring as simply that; caring. He placed another kiss on your cheek and swung your hands back and forth as Sirius spoke up again.

"We don't get many chances to worry over you like this darling, let us baby you just this once? Pretty please?"

He flashed you horrid puppy-eyes as James squeezed your hand again. You rolled your eyes, feeling warmth spread throughout your cheeks and neck.

"Just- let's get to potions. Please."

Both boys grinned and began chattering away as you walked. Would it be so horrible to let them treat you for a while?

Yes. Yes, it would.

Because it would seem, after nearly two weeks of resting and healing spent half in your bed and entirely in the arms of your boyfriends, they still were unwilling to let you return to practice fully.

This thought irked you horribly as you sat, hovering on your broom like a first-year, doing slow laps around the quidditch field no more than a meter off the ground. You picked up your pace a little bit, beginning to feel a bit of wind on your face as you thought of how badly you wanted to be doing more.

"Oi, quit it."

The glare you sent James's way was burning with simmering frustration. You proceeded to stick your tongue out at him and cross your arms, as childish as it felt.

He merely frowned in response, turning to watch the rest of the team drilling catching and dodging with some quaffles. Even if he wanted to place all his attention on you, it would've been entirely unfair to the rest of the team. Sirius was also distracted, i.e., finding a little too much fun in their game of dodgeball. (He'd nearly given a keeper a black eye.) Remus was not there to watch today, instead spending his time studying for an upcoming exam.

With all eyes turned away from you, and this endless itch to actually, finally do something, slipping away was a very easy thing to do.

As you began to fly around the grounds of Hogwarts, shooting up into the sky and diving back down to pick up even more speed, you could've sworn the wind wasn't just whistling in your ears. It was whispering to you that slipping away was the right thing.

You whooped and hollered and laughed as you chased your way around the towers and over the Black Lake. You dared to let your hand fall and scrape the inky dark surface of the water, and the resulting splash endlessly delighted you. Eventually, you decided to settle your little escape under a tree by the shore.

A few pants escaped you as your lungs caught up with all you had just done. After, you'd relaxed for maybe another twenty minutes and it felt like nothing could wipe the smile off your face.

"Jesus, dove, there you are."

Alright, maybe nothing.

You turned to find Sirius landing his broom and jogging over to you, and your face slowly began to drop. He dropped to his knees next to you and gave you a cursory glance, and when he was happy with the state of you, relaxed against the tree as well.

The two of you sat in silence for a minute before you managed to speak up.

"I'm not sorry or anything. By the way. And I-" You glanced over to Sirius, before staring forward and plowing on, "I've appreciated you all caring and coddling me but I'm better and I'm sick of being sidelined and babied and- and-"

You looked at Sirius again to find him smiling at you, completely in love. There was so much care in his eyes that it caused you to stumble over your words and past your point completely.

"And... yeah."

Sirius only continued to smile at you. He then sighed a little and wrapped an arm around your waist to tug you into him.

"Sorry we've been babying you, gorgeous." He paired this with a kiss pressed to your temple. "We're just nervous about making sure you're okay."

"I'm okay. Believe me, I am okay now."

"I believe you, love."

"Good."

You relaxed against him and soaked up the day together. There were birds singing in the distance and a light breeze dancing across the grass. It felt peaceful. You turned your gaze to Sirius and pressed a loving kiss to his cheek.

"I do mean it, I appreciate you all worrying about me. Even if you don't need to so much anymore."

"Not a problem dovey," He grinned, still looking out across the lake before he turned to return your kiss. "It's our job as boyfriends. And now, our job is to convince James you're well enough to do more than float an inch off the ground."

A snort escaped you as you laughed at that, sighing and hiding your face against his shoulder.

"He's gonna give me so much shit for skipping out on practice, floating or not."

"I'm sure it won't be all that bad."

Sirius now smirked down at you, unable to resist pressing yet another kiss to your cheek.

"He's completely smitten with you after all. We all are."

oh my god this is a million years late babes, i'm so sorry. between finals and dorm moveout i've been completely swamped. i'm planning on getting back into the fanfiction grind though, so you have plenty to look forward to coming up darling!! all the best!!!! <3

[v1rtualsalvat10n]

𓆩♡𓆪 for the first time

― luigi thinks of you in his cell. that's it that's the fic.

notes :: thank you for all the support to show my appreciation i would like to throw a rusty screwdriver into your hearts i love u guys!!

The thing they don't tell you about prison is that it's really cold.

No, seriously. It's really fucking cold, even here in NYC where it's already cold to begin with - it's like you're in the back of a deep freezer in a shitty jumpsuit, because you kind of are. It's cold enough that I have to curl up into a ball on my "bed", knees to my chest in order to try and stay warm.

And because I have nothing to do, I find myself staring at the white, emotionless wall, and doing that sort of thing is kind of a surefire way to get your mind to wander. One of the tried and true methods, if you will.

It's lonely here. Sure, the inmates like me, they're nice, but I mean... I'm not really in the mood to socialize with anyone. This whole ordeal has sucked the energy out of me. I've been being thrown around the country for days, ever since they found me.

I don't even want to think about what's happening outside of this place, either. I'm sure people have lots of thoughts and things to say about what I did.

I wonder if she saw it.

The news, I mean. Of course she saw it, who didn't? I bet her and all my old classmates and friends are probably talking about it, about me, what I'd done - right now. Trying to pick apart my motive, maybe grieving about the life I'd thrown away. Guess I had a lot ahead of me.

Can't help but wonder what she's thinking. I wonder if she's disappointed in me. Or maybe proud. Why am I thinking so much about what she thinks of me? It was one fling, from ages ago, I can't even remember when... at one of countless parties, and yet I still see how she looked underneath me so clearly.

It wasn't really just a fling. I talked to her about it - about how the system was falling apart (if it was ever together to begin with) and I felt the need to put all this privilege I'd been granted to good use. How I felt like I had to do something. She told me about herself, too, how she'd been fucked over time and time again and how she knew countless others who felt the same way.

Actually, yeah, we spent a lot of time together, thinking back on it. She'd come over on those cold winter nights I remember so fondly and we'd keep warm together, whatever way we could find. She was kind of... below me, I guess. Lower class. Not that I cared that much, though. Didn't make her any less of a lover.

And then I went radio silent. Then I figured out exactly what that thing I had to do was, and I put all my effort towards it. I didn't have time for love anymore. I had to take the chance I'd been given and fix things.

So I started leaving her on seen, stopped answering my door, even when she'd yell that she knew I was there, stopped showing up at the places I'd loved before, I stopped everything. Dropped off the map and left nothing but a ghost in my place.

She probably hates me.

I'd like to think that maybe this brings her solace... that maybe the idea that "it wasn't because you did something wrong" made her feel better, but I doubt it does.

When I get out of here, if I even do, she'll probably have forgotten all about me, because everybody forgets. I'll be old news by the time that day comes, and everything we did, everything we wanted to do - would just be a hazy memory.

I still remember seeing her for the first time. I remember the way her eyes pierced through my soul, and I remember how it made me feel inside.

I wonder if she remembers that too.

[teaboot]

Forgive me if you’ve already answered something similar but how do you deal with crushing guilt when you did fuck up but there’s not really anything you can do to like make amends or you’ve already done anything you could and still feel guilty?

Like I know the guilt isn’t productive at all, if anything it’s just paralyzing me, and mentally beating myself up over it isn’t actually helping anyone. But I don’t know where to go from there. Idk how to actually forgive myself, or at least be able to move on

CW FOR SELF HARM

Okay, so this is something I've had to work through for a very long time myself, and there's a few different strategies that I've used to cope and process with varying levels of success.

What I used to do was handle the "I've ruined everything and hurt people and am never going to be forgiven" feeling by hurting myself in a number of creative and stupid ways, from physical hurt (Everything you'd expect) to mental hurt (wallowing, speaking badly of myself, going over the bad thing over and over again in my head) to passive hurt (neglecting my health, not eating properly, failing to pursue good living conditions, letting others hurt me, deliberately wandering into risky situations) and despite any short-term relief or peace I got, none of it ultimately fixed anything.

At the end of the day, making myself suffer as retribution or apology didn't fix the thing I'd done and didn't make the guilt go away, and all it gave me was an additional sense of shame and isolation because now not only was I a garbage person, I was a garbage person with something to hide from my loved ones. Zero out of ten, do not recommend.

The stuff that DID help was harder and is going to sound stupid because *I thought it was stupid* until it worked for me.

First: Learn the difference between GUILT and SHAME.

GUILT is how you feel about your choices.

SHAME is how you feel about yourself.

"I was late to a date again, that was inconsiderate": GUILT. The issue can be resolved by analyzing the reason behind the action and planning steps to avoid repeating it in the future. Guilt is productive because it motivates us to improve our choices. Once you've corrected the behaviour, it's over.

A"I was late to a date again, I'm inconsiderate": SHAME. The issue can be resolved by asking ourselves:

What negative thing to I believe about myself?

What other experiences support this belief? What evidence do I have that the bad thing is true?

Do those previous experiences have anything in common? Where they actually proof of a personal lack, or did someone just tell me they were? Were my choices and actions understandable? Did I have a reason? Was I trying to hurt others, or was it a mistake, accident, or learning experience? Have I grown from that experience?

Can I forgive myself for the past? What do I need to do to forgive myself for those past events? Was I really at fault at all, or was it out of my control?

Accept that.

Your present traumas and shames often have roots in beliefs you had about yourself before the new shameful thing occurred. When you dig into resolving the issues that led to today, you can use those conclusions to work through tomorrow. This is something I learned in cognitive behavioral therapy.

There are a number of ways of unpacking these questions, but as I felt I was deliberately avoiding my thoughts and feelings, I chose to jump into them directly, and found it to be effective.

You can write things down, talk to someone, paint something, draw something, whatever. Whatever at all works for you.

My solutions was to find a comfortable place on the floor, sit down, close my eyes, and do box-breathing (in for 4, hold for 4, out for 4, hold for 4) while deliberately thinking about every upsetting memory attached to a specific bad belief that I could recall until I had nothing left to go over.

Judge and jury. Was I a bad person, or did I make a mistake? Did I have malicious intentions, or did someone accuse me of malicious intentions? Am I bad, or have I been conditioned to believe I'm bad? And at the end of it all, am I capable of better? Do I want to be better? And would a truly bad person care?

It was more emotional than I expected the first few times. Cried a lot, actually. But if I can liken it to a common feeling, it was like getting out of a very thorough shower and realizing you didn't know how dirty you were before.

The process sucks ass, no lie, but it's worth it. Like draining pus from a gnarly wound to get it healed up properly.

I'm not an expert, of course, but life has gotten better since I started. I'm better at forgiving myself, at least.

Also: Some people will never forgive others even for tiny things. Sometimes once you've done your best, you've just gotta say "fuck 'em". C'est la vie, mon amie.

Good luck, yeah?

♡

[simpee9000]

You Were A Dream ~ 2 ~ T. Amajiki

Blurb Idea : Part One (this is the last part btw) Description : Tamaki was always shy, but with you? He was doing everything he never expected. All with his best friend's sister. it felt like the words cruel joke on him. Yet for you, it was all like a dream. Word Count : 5.7k Warnings : Angst, Hints to Smut but none fr

---

"Are you okay?" your brother asked when he opened the door to your apartment. The first question he's asked since.

And you ignored it.

Going straight to your room and slamming the door.

Falling face-first into your pillow so you could cry.

The realization of the gap between you and Tamaki was painful. The fact that you were so mentally in the relationship while he was still unsure? That was unthinkable.

A sinking feeling was being pressed into your chest, hurting your lungs as you took rapid breaths in, trying to stop crying.

The sinking feeling that Tamaki might not be the one at all. That this past year might of been a waste of hopes and false dreams.

It put a damper on everything.

Moping slightly around the workplace, shining a smile when needed just like your brother would. Just to drop the act at home. Dragging your feet and keeping your head hung low.

It felt pitiful. But you put your all into this relationship. You thought through everything with him, you told him everything.

Mirio started questioning you after a week.

"I didn't think Tamaki would affect you this bad," he was crossing his arms, a concerned look on his face as he left half his thoughts unspoken.

You gave him a dead stare, turning back to your phone and once again ignoring any conversation about this.

If Tamaki didn't want to talk to you about it, you didn't want to talk about it.

And while you were upset. You weren't going to throw him under the bus just to rant. His feelings were realistic, just entirely different than yours.

So you've been reevaluating everything.

This relationship might not work, and maybe you were stupid for thinking it would.

''Hi, beautiful."

You turned your head away from the printer, giving him a soft smile, "Hey Kaminari."

"Why so glum?" he walked next to you, leaning onto the side of the printer, eyeing the stack of work reports you were printing out.

You sighed, "Lots of stuff."

"Boyfriend?"

"Something like that," you shrugged, mindlessly watching the papers slide out of the machine.

"I'm all ears," his cheerful smile made you consider it.

"I just-" your eyes caught onto Tamaki's white hero hoodie, one he was holding down with his hands and turning away from you.

Kaminari glanced where you did, "Is he avoiding you or something?"

"Kind of? I don't know," you shook your head, taking your eyes of his figure and back to the papers.

"What happened?"

"We're just at different points in our relationship," you spoke softly, trying to keep your voice indifferent as you picked up your finished papers, "Might not be much of a relationship anymore."

"Oh, fuck- I'm sorry," Kaminari took the joy from his face as he gave you an apologetic look.

"It's fine," you walked to your office, having his steps behind, "It's my fault really, I got ahead of myself."

"Look," Kaminari stopped you just before your door, "Don't blame yourself for your feelings and don't apologize for them. It doesn't fix anything. You are allowed to feel stuff."

His unusual pep talk made you smile, "Thank you, I needed to hear that," you laughed lightly at how Kirishima has influenced the boy, "I've been telling myself I was overthinking."

"Nah, it's all normal," he smiled brightly at you, patting your shoulder before seeing himself off.

You watched after his figure, thinking over how to go about everything while respecting how you felt and how Tamaki did.

"What was that about?"

"Holy fuck!" You jumped at the voice behind you, "Die. Literally die, Mirio."

"What has you smiling? Boyfriend?"

You glared at him, giving him a disgusted look, "No, get out of my business."

"That look says you and your boyfriend aren't on good terms," Mirio hummed as if he cracked a code.

"No, that look means to fuck off," you walked into your office, shutting your door in his face.

He phased through anyway, "Come on, just tell me what happened, it's been two weeks."

You looked at the calendar on your computer, your anniversary is today.

"What just happened?" Mirio spoke more calmly, "You went from annoyed to just sad."

"Can you please go?" you set your papers down and slouched in your office chair. Rubbing at your eyes to push back the emotions.

"Sis-"

"Please?"

Mirio frowned, stepping out of the office and giving you as sad smile.

All you could do was stare at your computer. The date is brightly marked in your brain and on the screen.

Just for your phone to be void of anything.

For good measure, you opened your phone again, checking your messages.

The last ones just being saddening.

"Can't wait to see your costume!" "I look stupid" "Maybe you'll let me take it off you then?" "oh"

After that there was nothing. No calls, no texts, no stupid Instagram reels. Nothing.

You turned off your phone, tossing it screen down on the desk with a sigh.

The urge to cry was strong, but when you held your head in your hands and looked down, you reminded yourself of all the work you had.

You'd cry when you got home.

Barely getting into your apartment before tears started falling.

You along with them. Shutting the door behind you and slumping against it.

A year wasted felt horrible. You wanted this to work so bad. But if he couldn't talk or come to you after clearly hurting you, then it wasn't worth it.

Sure, you could text him. But the communication on your side was fine, yet he never discussed his. You felt blindsided somewhat.

You deserved more from that.

So you took a deep breath and forced yourself to stand.

This was your anniversary after all, and maybe you wanted that box of brownies buried in your cabinet all for yourself.

Uncovering it and starting to mix it all together, ignoring how you were supposed to make these with Tamaki.

"Hey," Mirio dragged out the word when he opened the door.

"Not sharing," you continued to mix the brownies.

"I brought you someone."

"I don't really wanna hang out with your girlfriend," you tried to decline nicely.

"You sure?"

"Mirio-" you turned around and saw Tamaki messing with his fingers.

"I'll leave you to it," Mirio chirped, "Don't know what happened but I want it resolved."

You slumped further, "Don't bother Mirio, it's fine."

"Huh?" he stopped his steps out.

"He's all yours," you shrugged.

"You don't wanna fix this?" Tamaki spoke softly.

"What is there to fix?" you looked at him plainly, trying to mask the fact you cried over him an hour ago, a day ago, and a week ago.

Tamaki looked between you and Mirio.

You took a deep breath in, ready to let go of the past year.

"Our relationship? Do you just want to break up?" Tamaki asked, voice wobbly.

"Huh?"

You blinked at him, ignoring Mirio's confusion. "I don't want to break up, I thought you wanted to?"

"No, I just-" he looked at Mirio again, "Can we talk about this? Like- somewhere else?"

"Why?"

He nodded his head towards Mirio.

"Do you not want him to know about our relationship? Because you just announced it," you crossed your arms. It seemed like he was okay with dating you, just didn't want Mirio to know any details.

"That's not-" he shook his head, shutting his mouth and looking at Mirio, "We've been dating for a year. I'm- I'm so sorry for not telling you."

"Oh," Mirio shifted how he was standing, "We can talk about that later. Sort out whatever happened, Imma go see Hado." Giving you his signature look of 'call me if you need me'.

Tamaki watched him leave in silence.

"He's going to hate me," he mumbled.

You shrugged, "I doubt it."

Silence rang throughout the room, leaving you to set your brownies into the oven.

"I'm sorry I never talked to you," Tamaki spoke softly, ashamed. You went to turn around before his voice stopped you, "Please- don't look at me. I won't be able to say what I need to."

"I can't be with someone who can't look at me," you sighed, "and don't be someone you're not for me."

"I want to though, I want to better myself for you."

You turned to face him, "Then I need you telling me to my face."

He frowned, lips wobbling as he looked at you.

Deciding not to let the conversation start off so bitter, and completely in his hands, you took a deep breath, "It's our anniversary."

"I- I know," Tamaki tightened his hold on his hand, "I wanted to see you sooner."

"Why didn't you?" You crossed your arms, leaning to rest on the counter behind you, "You could of texted, or called."

Tamaki looked down, ashamed, "I thought you'd ignore it."

"So you didn't even bother trying?"

"I felt like you deserved more, wanted more- So I waited until I could come over without Mirio being suspicious," Tamaki rambled slightly, "Then I realized that was stupid- so I just asked to talk to you through him."

You hummed in agreement, looking at the brownies cooking in the oven rather than him.

"I don't care if he knows, not anymore-"

"Tamaki," you sighed, "That's hardly the thing I'm upset about."

"It's not?" he asked quietly.

"No, I understand you not wanting to tell him- Hell, I hardly wanted to because of how he acts- but the way you went about it? The afterward?" you turned to look at him now, trying to stress your point, "I can dismiss how you said you'd never wanted me to meet your girlfriend. It was a panicked response, hurtful but I can understand your side."

"I truly didn't mean for it to come out that way- I just didn't want Mirio to think I'd choose someone else-"

"That's the issue," you cut him off, wanting to get to the point, "You should choose someone else sometimes- and the way you view our relationship as new? We have entirely different viewpoints and priorities. I can't understand how you told me I'm new- I just- do you know how unvalued that made me feel?" you let your arms fall to your sides, defeated.

Tamaki just blinked at you for a moment, soaking in each word you just said. Watching how your shoulders slump and the way you curl in on yourself. "I didn't mean to- I was just trying to make you see my point."

"By hurting my feelings? I get you were stressed but you completely disregarded me, and our relationship. When I pointed out it'd be a year in two weeks- you just shrugged it off," you huffed, feeling the tears weld behind your eyes once again. He was just proving your thoughts correct. "You didn't even try to call me."

"You didn't text me so I thought-"

"Stop thinking so negatively of me. If you think I'd act in an intentionally hurtful way then why be with me? It's just sad to hear what you think of me. I didn't think for a second you were intentionally trying to hurt me, I just thought you were stressed," you shrugged aggressively, hands thrown into the air "Maybe that's me being naive, I don't know. But you should have reached out, you were the one who hurt me and I made that clear."

He just stared at the floor. Body frozen. So you did the same, unable to look at him as you tried to steady your voice.

You lowered your voice to a whisper, "Maybe we just aren't right for each other. I need someone who matches my priorities and can communicate with me fully- or at least attempt to. I don't think that's too much to ask. It'd make your friendship less awkward too."

"That's not-" Tamaki spoke out panicked, stepping closer to you as you looked up, "I don't want that- at all. I need to work on that, a hundred percent- I'll start right now. You are my top priority, I just completely panicked. I don't care if Mirio knows or if he's mad- well I do in case we get married- I wouldn't want your brother to hate me. But- you mean the most to me. I should have reached out but I got too stuck in my head over how you'd react. It wasn't fair."

His eyes were flickering across your face, trying to catch a glimpse of the slightest change.

"I should have thought more- should have told you more about what I thought," Tamaki lifted his hands briefly- pausing in an attempt to grab your hands before dropping them back to his sides. "I'll do better- I'll prove that my priorities match yours. I just needed to get over telling Mirio- and I did-"

"What happens the next time there's a bump in the road? Will you shut down again and assume the worst? Will you run away from me after being hurtful?" you were closing yourself off, crossing your arms. You didn't even know how to think.

If this were your friend, you'd tell her she is dumb if she believes he's going to change. But you wanted to believe it too. Maybe Tamaki was different, he has always been someone who adapts to things overtime. Maybe you were just dumb.

"I don't know for sure what will happen then, but I know I will try to be better. I want you to be there for me and I want to be there for you- I just don't know how and I should have asked. I'll work on it all- I should have done it sooner," he spoke quickly, slowly getting closer to your space.

You looked away, overwhelmed with his presence, "I don't think I can get over how you dismissed our relationship and our anniversary."

"I just panicked, I'm sorry. I don't know what I'd do if you told me the same. I um- I got you a gift for it- but I don't think now's the time-" he shuffled awkwardly, grabbing something in his pocket briefly before dropping his hand. "I can't explain how sorry I am."

You took a deep breath, he sounded genuine but you were still hurt, "Can I have some time to think about it? I want to believe you- I just don't know how a relationship would work if you didn't communicate to me more."

He stepped away from you, hurt, "Yeah- we can do that- Um- I'll give you your space."

"I don't want space, I just want to think on it," you clarified, hoping he'd get what you meant.

"I'll let you do that then," he shuffled back awkwardly, making his way to the door, "I'll- I'll just leave this here." He took a box out of his pocket and placed it on the counter, awkwardly patting it before speaking, "It's an anniversary gift- don't feel like I'm trying to change your mind- I'm just going to leave you." He blabbed as he fumbled with the door to get it opened.

"It's fine, get home safe," you watched him leave.

He peeked his head back into the room, "I love you- don't feel the need to say it ba-"

"I love you too, get home in one piece," you held back a giggle at his anxiousness and the way his face brightened at your words, ears turning red as he held his head down and walked out of your apartment.

The beeping of the oven caught your attention just as the door closed behind him.

Leaving you to eat the brownies while they were still burning hot.

You're glad he came to you- even though it took two weeks. He still came to you. He said he'd changed, so all you could do was wait and see.

"Home, I hope the brownies you made hit the craving you talked about"

He texted you, so that was a start.

When Mirio came home you were curious about his response to everything.

So seeing him come home with his brows furrowed and his mouth in a frown alarmed you.

"You good?" you asked, half chewing the brownie you cut out.

"Tamaki's the guy you've been seeing? The dude you've been upset over?" He crossed his arms in front of you, standing across the counter from where you sat at the island.

"Yeah," you shrugged, you didn't want a lecture.

"How come you guys never told me?"

You gave him a pointed look, "Really? You got weird when me and him were in the same room."

"Because I knew he liked you and I didn't want him to make you uncomfortable," he huffed, "I'm fine with you guys dating- I just wish I was told. I had a feeling anyways."

"Sure," you rolled your eyes.

"I did! He looked at you odd," he pouted, before taking on another serious face, "Did you guys resolve the issue?"

You shrugged again, "I don't know, It's a mess right now."

"What even happened?" he asked as he slumped into the couch you were sitting next to.

You slumped further into your seat, "The thing he said at the party started an argument is all."

"He was telling me he wasn't talking with you, like communicating well," Mirio added, trying to show he knew some details.

"Yeah," you shrugged, "I don't really wanna talk about it all."

"Okay," he drummed his fingers on the couch, "That movie you talked about is on streaming, wanna watch it?"

Since then, Tamaki has been trying every day. He was also trying to let you think for yourself so that led to awkward moments. He'd ask you to come over then fumble for an excuse to cancel. He was proving he'd try, and that's all you wanted.

He also started to bring you a coffee in the morning before scattering off to his own work.

"Denki, that's single-handedly the dumbest thing you've ever said," you laughed, he just said he didn't understand what you were talking about when you mentioned an article over 'human connection' and asked what that even meant.

"I'm just confused," he threw his hands up, "What's human connection?"

"Socializing," you explained, "Like, humans interacting and making a connection, stupid."

"Oh," he blinked at you.

You rolled your eyes and caught Tamaki's eye across the room, looking at you with a frown. Not really at you either, mainly at Denki.

Denki noticed your far off look, looking over his shoulder to see what you were. "Should I go?" he laughed awkwardly.

You shrugged, "If he has an issue with it, he can tell me." You looked back at Denki.

"Okay, I guess," he dragged out, shuffling on his feet, "I took your advice."

"Hm?"

"With Jirou, I asked her out finally," he spoke as if a weight on his shoulders disappeared. He's been talking to you about her for the past few weeks, wanting to be a cheesy couple during the holidays.

"Really?" you jumped up, "What happened?"

He sighed, "She's um, she's dating Momo, Creati if you didn't know."

"Oh, Denki that sucks, but at least you know," you frowned at him, "Did it affect how she treats you, or anything?"

"No, she's not the type to do that, she kinda just brushed it off and told me she had a girlfriend," he shrugged, looking around the office rather than you, "It sucks though, I've had a thing for her since first year."

She seemed to go about it in a nice way, he just seemed disappointed. "Didn't you say Kirishima's new assistant caught your eye?"

"I don't even know her, with Jirou I actually saw a personality behind the looks."

"That just means you need to do that again, you'll get that interest again, just gotta look for it," you shrugged, looking at the time on the clock and grabbing at your papers, you had a meeting in five minutes.

"Says the one that's with her childhood crush," he huffed, "I wish I had that spark."

"It's not all that it's cut out to be, but I see what you mean, I thought the same thing until it happened to me," you tried to reassure, giving him a pointed look, "You'll find someone, just gotta actually look for them not just their looks."

Denki scoffed, "You sound like Kacchan, hopeless romantic bullshit."

"It's not bullshit," you laughed, "I'll help set you up with a friend if you want? Text me if you do, meeting time."

"I think about it," he hummed, "Good luck with your meeting."

You padded towards the meeting doors, opening them to make a beeline towards your assigned seat with all the papers you had over your assignments this month. Smiling at the coffee cup sat next to your nametag with a little T written on it.

Though he gave you a smile during the meeting, you only got to talk afterward.

"Why'd Chargebolt look so upset?" Tamaki asked first thing. You were still collecting your papers into a pile when you asked so you looked at him confused. "Earlier, when the two of you were talking, he- this isn't a jealous thing- I'm just confused- Isn't he the I don't know, happy one?"

Happy with the confirmation of why he was asking, you answered, "He asked someone out and it didn't go to well, he's liked them since forever too."

"Oh," he hummed, "Sorry, I just noticed the way your face dropped with his- I thought maybe something bad happened and that you wouldn't- never mind."

You raised your brow at his rambling and the cut-off, tucking the papers neatly into your arm before looking at him with your full attention.

He let out a sigh, "I was worried something happened, and that you wouldn't tell me. I'm kind of- insecure I guess, lately, since I don't know what we are and how we stand on that stuff."

"Fair, I don't know where we stand either, I still need to think it over. I can see that you're trying though, I appreciate it," you smiled, "But just know that you're probably the first I'd go to still," you added, feeling somewhat guiltily that you had his strung along.

"Okay," he smiled back, "I'd go to you first too."

You continued on with your day separately afterward.

Falling asleep and waking up to the same dream since you've told him to wait.

The dream of how you guys used to be, it was cute, it also made you yearn for it. The dream went over the before, then to the fight, then ended with you going to his apartment and confessing your love and want for him.

You've been sitting with it for a while, he's shown change but you wanted to know fully. The decision was made but you still wanted to be confirmed you wouldn't regret it.

The light in your room was dim, but the light through the window casted a prefect sliver of light on the jewelry box that Tamaki left with you after the fight.

You still haven't opened it.

Not wanting it to be attached to a negative memory of him, you left it to the side. Knowing that if you opened it then, you'd only think of the fight when he gave it. So you waited till your mind was made up.

Which it was, and since you couldn't act like how you did in your dream and run to his apartment in the middle of the night, it felt fair to open it now.

So you rolled yourself out of bed and turned on your desk lamp, lighting up the box perfectly. It was a deep navy velvet, the coating all fancy ring boxes have. Clicking open easily to shine your favorite tone of jewelry shimmering with a very pale blue butterfly being held as a pendant. Something he mentioned was his favorite, something he said he gave to those he loved most.

Something Mirio was never gifted.

His mom had a bracelet with small gold butterflies making the chain, he got it for her after his first paycheck. She was the only one he had given one to, until now.

You shouldn't have immediately compared yourself with your brother, but you couldn't help it. You fully had something he didn't.

Now you really wanted to act on your dream and run to him. Already throwing on a hoodie and pants, and shoving your foot into a slip-on shoe before you could think. Grabbing your keys off your desk before running out the door.

Ignoring the sirens going off faintly in the distance, another hero could deal with it, and running towards his apartment in the snow.

Ever the romantic, you were, you were inwardly laughing to yourself at the cheesy romance. Feeling giddy as you pressed his floor number in the elevator. This was just like every rom-com ever. The love interest running through bad weather to reunite. It was like everything you dreamed of.

Pounding at his door as you bit your cheek, nerves running through you at the fact you were getting your relationship back.

After a few knocks, you went to check your phone for the time, noticing the lack of weight in your pocket and the fact you didn't know your phone.

You knocked louder, disappointment settling in.

You heard a door click open behind you, and a groggy mumble of your name as well.

"Denki?" you turned towards Kirishima's door, "What are you doing here?"

"Kiri asked me to dog sit," he looked at you weirdly, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm getting back with Tamaki- speaking of which- do you know where he is? I don't have my phone," you rocked on the heels of your feet, the nerves of talking about it all, getting to you.

Denki's face dropped, "You don't have your phone? Did you walk here?"

"Yeah- why do you look so freaked out?"

"The fucking news- I thought you would have seen it- fuck- hold on," he walked back inside.

You stepped near the door, confused, "What news? You're freaking me out."

He grabbed his keys and shoved his feet in crocs before motioning you to walk with him, "I don't- Amajiki is in the hospital- it just fucking happened- I'm surprised you didn't hear it on the way here."

Your feet stuttered as you walked, tripping you to run into him, "The fuck?"

Denki picked up your hand and pulled you into the elevator, "The building clasped on him while he was helping people evacuate from a fire. The news stopped broadcasting it afterwards."

Everything that was running in your body stopped, you felt nothing.

"I tried calling you- I'm sorry- fuck I'm so sorry."

You didn't even register anything until Mirio was wrapping you into a tight hug at the hospital. Mumbling frantic 'I'm sorry' and 'I tried to save him's.

Soaking in the look of the hospital. Nurses and doctors running around to each hero on the floor. Some from the same incident as Tamaki and some from another horrific event.

Being a hero, and friends with heroes, meant a secure fact of never being safe and never a promised day. You weren't living some type of fairytale dream, no matter how much you believed that. You just never imagine how it'd feel to look at your loved one while they were being stabilized with fluids and oxygen.

It felt like there was cotton shoved in your ears. A weight in your chest and something stuck in your throat. Nothing of you would function as you stood at the end of his bed. Listening to the nurse discuss his state and not being able to ask anything further. Just feeling lost.

A lot of smoke was in his lungs, it was the main reason he was in the hospital. He was on oxygen because of that. Then he was on fluids because of how his quirk worked, it depleted him of what he needed as he used it before he passed out from all the smoke. He also broke his arm, shattered from the ceiling caving in on him.

All you could think was that you were glad he wasn't dead.

It only took him a couple of hours to wake up, luckily. With how guilty your brother acted and how sorry Denki looked, you felt like he was dead. Yet you still felt nauseous when you heard him speak.

"Could I get some water?" he croaked. You jumped from your seat, not expecting his voice as you zoned out on his broken arm.

His voice was absolutely shattered, and he chugged the water the second you handed it to him. Listening to you tell him everything the doctors told you and calling the doctors in to talk with him about staying until the afternoon for his vitals to stabilize fully.

"Sorry I scared you," he mumbled quietly after the door clicked shut, his thumb tracing over your knuckles, you held his hands when the doctors came in.

"You were saving people, it's your job," you spoke for him but also yourself, you wanted to be mad that he could have died before you got to confess everything, but you couldn't be. You were the one who waited after all.

He just stayed silently for a moment, "Is that the necklace?"

You reached your free hand to touch it, "Yeah."

"Why now?"

"I um, I put it on before I knew anything happened. I was coming over to your apartment to talk about everything- and then Denki told me what happened," you squeezed his hand tighter.

"You were going to talk to me? What about?" his voice was still shot but he sounded more nervous, his heart rate shower higher on the monitor.

"It's not something we should talk about in a hospital room" you laughed softly, "It can wait."

"I wanna talk about it now, I don't care," his voice was somewhat firm but was also pleading. It made you look at him more, his hair was a mess, hardly in the shape he tried to keep it in. He had smudges of ash on his cheeks and dark circles under his eyes. Skin paler than normal. To word it simply, he looked horrible. The last thing you wanted to do was make him anxious.

"I've decided," you turned to sit next to him, moving to have his hand in your lap as you looked at him, "I definitely want to be with you, though our problems definitely still need to be communicated more, we should do that together."

"You're not saying this out of guilt right?" he mumbled, a frown and worried eyes showing his worry.

"No, I was already at your apartment before I knew, I made up my mind a couple of days ago."

"Thank fuck." You laughed at his uncommon swear. "I'll do everything I can to keep you happy," he squeezed your hand this time, and when you hummed in reply, he moved past it, "Do you like the necklace?"

"I love it," you smiled, "it's perfect."

He blushed, "I was worried you'd hate it, I had to keep checking your jewelry to know which you liked more, gold or silver."

"Well you were right, I'm never taking this off- by the way," you laughed softly, wanting to go in for a hug but noticing him flinch his broken arm away. "-Shit- sorry."

"We- can- if you want-" he coughed out of awkwardness, not smoke, before he mumbled, "kiss."

You took his offer instantly, connecting your lips gently for the first time in almost a month. Feeling the spark from before and tasting the smoke he inhaled. Pulling away with a laugh when his heart rate monitor started blaring at how fast it was beating. 

After he was cleared from the hospital, you stayed with him. Having Hado bring you a bag of clothes so you wouldn't have to leave him alone and after a long joking, but not joking, sex talk with Mirio, you were left alone with him.

You were babying him, you'll admit it. But you felt bad, you basically left him and while on the way to get him back you ignored him almost dying. You didn't know, but you should have.

Dishing up the ordering of his favorite food while he watched his favorite show on the couch.

"You don't have to do all this, you know," he mumbled when you handed him the dish.

"Let me have this," you sighed out, "I should have told you I wanted to continue our relationship but I made you wait- then it led me to-"

"It's not your fault," he cut you off, leaving you to huff and sit next to him.

Not knowing what else to say, that he wouldn't object, you settled on the truth, "I love you."

As always, he flushed red and choked on his ramen. Only mumbled a quiet 'I love you too' after he got his food down correctly.

You let him enjoy his food before saying anything else, letting him place the empty bowl on the table with another 'thank you' before you start talking about it again. "I had a dream before all that happened too," you looked down at your hands, "It was super cheesy- I did basically what I ended up doing before I found out what happened. I rushed out of my house in the middle of the night, running through the snow to get to you."

He let you think over your words, noticing you were just trying to explain how you felt.

"I just rushed out without a thought to grab my phone- it was dumb of me."

"You could never have known," Tamaki placed his hand on your knee to drag your attention to him, "It's not like your dream could have predicted that- life isn't like dreams."

"It is with you," you whispered when you looked up.

"Cheesy," he cringed, voice still soft with a smile regardless, his nose wrinkling, "You were a dream too."

He leaned in for a kiss, laughing along with you at how corny everything felt. It was everything your younger felt hoped for with just a bit more realism, it was beautiful.

You deepened the kiss once the laughter faded, going to grab his shoulder before he jerked away in pain. "Shit- sorry," you mumbled, pulling back to look at his arm.

"It's fine," he pulled you into him again with his good arm, dragging you partly in his lap, as much as he could, before he settled his hand on your hip.

"Really?" you pulled back and gave him a look, your hips were perfectly over his.

He blushed, "It's been a while since we kissed," he said in explanation.

"If only you weren't broken," you laughed, giving him a peck on the lips before moving to get off his lap.

"Hey," he held you to his lap with his hand, face still shy, "Not all of me is broken."

"Tamaki, we are not having sex for the first time with you injured," you laughed at how out of character he was being, "What happened to you being shy?"

"You told me to communicate," he frowned, "We can still kiss then? I just- I wanna be close to you. I missed you.."

"I didn't expect you to communicate sex stuff," you laughed at how he was truly going above and beyond what you asked.

He rolled his eyes, "Can we?"

"Of course," you smiled before leaning back in to kiss him.

Younger you would faint at the position he had you in once his arm was healed a week after from healing quirks.

Dreaming that he'd be so soft and loving- and while he was- he was also lost. The second he slipped his dick into you after all the foreplay, he moaned so loud. He let go of any shyness he had and started whimpering in your neck.

And that's just to put it nicely.

---

~ Part one ~ My Full Master List ~

I'll probably make a few blurbs about this if people want but I could not for the life of me write a full smut scene.

Happy Holidays!

[hyukalyptus]

like, never ever? — beomgyu x fem!reader | besties to lovers. NSFW/MDNI!

cw. bestfriend!dom!beomgyu, virgin!afab!reader, bondage, corruption, spanking, cunnilingus (f. receiving), unprotected sex (use condoms pls!), pet/nick names (baby, sir), nipple play, slight dacryphilia. notes. resposted from my old acct, originally a request, did not re-read too carefully., smut under cut! wc. ~800

beomgyu never thought about you like that before. he knew you were attractive—he's not blind—he just never thought about you in a sexual way. but when you admit it's not that i've never been with someone...i've never even had an orgasm, his brain short circuits.

you've...never? like never, ever? you shake your head and he can't help but chuckle, a cocky smile appearing on his face.

why didn't you tell me? it just didn't cross your mind, but he reminds you i could help you out, you know. his strong hand creeps up your thigh as you feel an ache in your center.

it wasn't just wanting to help out a friend with him. sure, that's a perk—you get to have ur first orgasm and i get to absolutely ruin you. and he's salivating just thinking about touching you, tasting you, pleasing you in a way you've never felt before.

it doesn't take much convincing to get you to lay down on the bed, baby. his eyes fixed on your body as he unbuttons the cuffs of his dress shirt and loosens his tie. usually, i'd tie you up with this, but since it's your first...but before he can say anything else, or did you want me to use it? you nod shyly, seeing him like this...all disheveled and broad...is definitely doing something to you.

you look so pretty, so pretty all tied up from me on your tummy, hands tied behind your back, ass up. his eyes rake over your body and fuck, i can't believe no one's had you like this. your pussy clenches around nothing as he situates himself underneath you. he seems to forget this all new for you. you gasp and what are you doing?

chuckling, his hands soothe your hips before it's okay, just sit on my face. you squirm and whine, but soon met with a harsh smack on your ass and that wasn't a suggestion. sit on my face.

hesitantly, you lower down to his face and he licks your clit harshly. keeling over in pleasure, you can't hold myself up, sir. can you help?

that snarky chuckle comes out again, sir? you're so polite for your first time. sucking on your clit, he spanks you again roughly, electricity shooting throughout your body. since you asked so nicely, he holds you by the hips, sucking on your sensitive clit. but soon enough, i think i'm cumming, sir, you gasp out and nod rapidly, legs trembling around his face, the knot in ur stomach tightening until you just can't take it anymore. everything feels like it's on fire. tingles are all over your body as you feel what you can only describe as an explosion of pleasure washes over you.

maybe you blacked out there for a minute, you don't know, but he's already ramming his cock inside you from behind and how does my cock feel in that tight, little pussy, huh, baby? you can't form coherent sentences. your ass jiggles with his ruts and spanks and you just wanna be thrown around, sir. please. please throw me around?

his hand meets your backside again before he quickly unties his tie, flips you over effortlessly and ties your hands above your head. legs spread wide, he fucks into you again as you yelp out in pleasure.

you never thought this is how good this felt. you knew it'd be nice, but this? this is so much better than you ever thought possible.

you're trembling, squeaking, shaking, gasping for air—who's making you feel good, hm baby? who made you feel so fucking good for this first time? you nod and whimper and you, sir. he presses your legs up to access your ass again to give it a good spank.

who? say my fucking name, baby. you're still struggling with keeping up with everything. he yanks you up, slamming his cock inside you deeper, which you didn't think was possible. say my name, he grunts with each thrust. you try your best, you really do, but poor baby, can't even say my name. do i need to stop? shaking your head no, please no—please don't stop, beomgyu. he smiles and that's it, baby.

practically crying his name out, you can hardly keep yourself composed before he licks his thumb to rub your nipple. that's when the tears start streaming down your face, close to your second orgasm. ever. a few more thrusts and flicks of your nipple until i'm cumming again, beomgyu. he smiles and follows soon after you, squirting his hot cum inside your tight cunt. and, you must admit, it's so warm and nice. like the best fucking hug you've ever had in your life.

collapsing next to you, you catch your breath and look at each other shyly, both of your juices dripping down further and further before all he can say is that was just...so good. wow.