#since battling with sleep is something i constantly do.

[eyepatchdate]

im usually all for fiction only needing to follow its own logic and i dont need realism all the time BUT one of my exceptions is like. characters sleeping. someone like writes an amount of not sleeping that would cause Actual Death and im like. Thats probably not what youre going for

or just making characters who like often go 35+ hours with no sleep and im like. that ultimately just. Doesnt work.

[sacredsorceress]

Scars / Logan Howlett

pairing: dofp!logan howlett x mutant!reader summary: every person has a soulmate. after settling in the future that he saved, logan starts to consider his next mission when a suspicious mark appears on him. word count: 3.2k a/n: good ol'fashioned soulmate AU. this is the first actual fic i've written in a long time so please have some grace. reblogs and replies are super appreciated! warnings: general mentions of logan's past, scars, self-doubt, alcoholism, reader smokes a cigar, mentions of razors, scars, wounds, two uses of y/n

logan masterlist | inbox | full masterlist

It had been a week since Logan woke up in his healed timeline.

For most people, the change would have been dramatic. But Logan was far unlike most people. The initial dreamlike state he was in when he first walked through the mansion- seeing the ghosts he had once known returned to the flesh, unscathed- quickly subsided. Logan had always been a man thrown onto a new path- how he lived life constantly changing to best fit his interests. Now, with his newfound peace he found the most complicated mission of all: what to do with the life he was now free to live?

Even before the sentinels, the battles, the wars- he had always been a man on the run. He was solo, strategic, concise. For a man who was gifted with infinite regeneration, he had solely concerned himself with staying alive. He ate for sustenance, sought shelter for safety, and nursed a bottle to find enough peace of mind to sleep at night.

The professor had once told him that for a person to reach self-actualization they first had to have all of their needs met. Logan had scoffed at the time, assuring the professor that he knew himself just fine. But now, with his problems so solved that they had ceased to ever exist, he wondered if maybe the professor was right.

Who was he? Where did he go from here?

The answer was found in the form of a scar on his hand.

"Well, everything seems to be just fine."

Logan scoffed at the blue man in front of him

"Well it's not." Logan said. "Check again."

Two days after he had come back, a large, circular scar had appeared on the palms of each of his hands. When they hadn't disappeared after two minutes, he rushed to the bathroom and nicked himself with his razor, watching as the wound healed with only blood dripping down his scruff as a remanent of it. Thirty minutes after that he found himself in the lab with Hank, Jean, and the Professor hypothesizing his miraculous marks.

"Logan, the tests came back clear." Jean assured him, leaning against the wall. "Maybe it's time to consider that it's something else."

Logan quirked his head towards her.

"I haven't had a scar in over two hundred years," he reminded her, his voice laced with irony. "I get not one, but two and you... what? Think it's a coincidence?"

Before Jean had a chance at rebuttal, the professor moved to face Logan.

"That's not what Jean's inferring, Logan." Charles reminded him. "We're simply asking that you consider other options. Less... dire options. It could, after all, be a good thing."

"Yeah?" Logan scoffed. "Like what?"

A silence hung in the air.

When Logan had first come to them with news of his scar, the thought had been on all three of their minds. Still, there were a plethora of things that could have caused that. Though, when the tests came back clear and his skin continued to heal from all sorts of abrasions, it felt as if there was only one answer for his seemingly magical scars.

However, none of them were keen on sharing this diagnosis with Logan. One wondered whether he'd handle the idea of his body failing him over fated love.

Hank was the first to speak up.

"Like a soulmate."

Oh that was rich, Logan thought.

Logan wasn't unfamiliar with the idea of soulmates.

Around the time that two fated lovers were destined to meet, there would be a sign for each of them. In some cases they were eyes changing colors, feeling the other's pain, finding their names everywhere they looked. In other cases they were new birthmarks, tattoos, scars.

In some way, the two were inextricably connected.

In his long life he had seen others experience it dozens if not hundreds of times. When the first thirty years of his life rolled around with no one, Logan accepted that he was one of the outliers. He considered it for the best and by now, with everything that he had gone through, the concept of soulmates almost seemed like an old wives' tale.

Logan glanced at their faces. When he realized they were serious, a deep laugh escaped from his gut. There was a lack of light in his eyes that admitted his insincerity.

"So I disappear for a few decades and you all start believing in fairytales?" Logan pulled the needles from his arm, the heart rate monitor going flat as he did. "What a bunch of bullshit."

Jean laid her hand against his chest, urging him back into the seat.

"Logan." She soothed him. "This is a good thing. Scott and I-"

Oh this was real rich.

"Scott and you are... what, huh?" Logan urged. "Soulmates?"

Logan scoffed, swiping Jean's hand from his chest.

"Bet you're so happy with your 'soulmate' and that's why you lead me on, huh? That it? You're happy?" He taunted, a dark laugh escaping him once more. "Spare me-"

"Logan, that's enough!"

The professor's voice echoed against the linoleum walls of the lab, reverberating off of the medical equipment throughout.

"If you want to wallow in your own self-deprivation, be my guest, but spare the rest of us your grief." Charles continued. "I think it would be best if you go back to your quarters and consider the future the universe has offered you."

The energy in the air was thick.

Jean and Hank avoided Logan’s eye contact while the professor’s nearly burned a whole through him.

Accepting defeat, Logan threw his hands up in the air and pushed himself out of his metal chair.

“Fine.”

Soulmates. Logan thought. Who would believe in a thing like that?

-

"It's a pleasure to see you again."

The atmosphere in the mansion was a stark contrast to the lab Charles had been in days before.

Now the school day had commenced: children skipping from class to class, students chatting with their friends in the hallway, teachers grabbing coffee between lessons. Amidst the organized chaos, Charles had arranged to meet you in the foyer: the replacement history teacher for Logan's class.

"You too, professor." You smiled, reaching out your hand. "I was so glad to hear from you."

Your hand hung in the air briefly, awaiting his return. Charles examined it for a moment- a twinkle in his eye- before taking it. His thumbs brushed against the newfound scars between your knuckles as he did.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you didn't always have these scars, did you, Y/n?" Charles asked.

You had not.

You had woken with them a few days before. Despite your powers rooted in chaos magic, it wasn't uncommon for blemishes or wounds to etch themselves into your skin. However, you often knew why. These marks, scars, were not faint, but instead quite profound. Three thick, healed over wounds patched together like a stitch on the back of each of your hands.

"No professor."

He closed his eyes, a soft smile gracing his lips. Though you knew he wished to ask more questions, the moment was broken by Logan.

"Ah, the man himself." Charles beamed. "Logan, I'd like you to meet Y/n. She'll be covering your class."

You had seen your fair share of news stories about the Wolverine. Who hadn't? Though the television had never prepared you for just how tall, or broad he was.

"It's nice to meet you, Logan."

"You too." He nodded, taking your hand.

His hand lingered in yours for a moment. Charles cleared his throat.

"We were just discussing the most peculiar scar on Y/n's hand." Charles said. "Appeared just a few days ago out of nowhere."

Charles nodded his head in the direction of your hand, leading Logan to squint. As if a light bulb had gone off over his head, Logan glanced between Charles and yourself and with your hand still in his, he turned it examine the back.

Three scars between your knuckles. Right where his own claws would be.

Though he liked to imagine himself as the patron of remaining suave, Logan's eyebrows shot up at the recognition. He traced his view from your hands, up your torso, to your face where you eyed him questioningly.

He thought back to the way that he woke up in the seventies, wrapped in the arms of another woman. If times had been different and Logan hadn't undergone all the so-called character development in the last forty years, he was sure that a face like yours would have gotten him in a lot of trouble. You were beautiful, and your demeanor highlighted your strength.

Your face radiated kindness, warmth and most of all, sincerity- a trait that was difficult to come by in a trade such as his.

But then Logan recalled that this wasn't the seventies and you weren't at some bar leading him on the entire night: your hand was in his and, according to everyone else, he was yours.

The idea almost couldn't register in Logan's brain.

"Interesting, isn't it, Logan?" Charles asked, breaking the silence. "Almost identical to where your claws are, hmm?"

Oh the professor thought he was quite funny.

Logan pulled his hand back from your grasp and shook his head.

"Not that easy, Charles." Logan commented before turning to you, a spiteful tone in his voice. "See you around, bub."

Before you had the chance to open your mouth, you watched as Logan stomped down the nearest hallway, his boots squeaking against the floorboards as he did. His fists clenched and released at his sides as he disappeared from view.

His reaction had come so far from left field that if it hadn't given you whiplash, it would have hurt your ego. Instead you turned back to the professor.

"Was it something I said?" You asked.

The professor shook his head, patting your hand gently.

"Logan's quite a complicated man." He assured you. "I'm sure you'll come to know that more than the rest of us. Now, to your classroom..."

Glancing over your shoulder to the void-like hallway that Logan went down, you considered the professor's words.

-

A storm had taken over the mansion by nightfall.

As you padded down the wood panelled hallways, the lightbulbs shook in their glass with each thunder clap- wind swatting at the window panes every few seconds. The pitter patter of the raindrops, although harsh, was comforting. It was almost as if the mansion had been engulfed by the storm, trapping everyone inside, while consequently making the outside world feel a thousand miles away.

When you found Logan's door, tucked in at the end of the hallway, you knocked.

"Yep."

The weight of the door fell against the palm of your hands as you pushed it open.

Logan's room was dark. The only light in the space had been from the embers of the cigar that hung in his mouth, cradled between his thumb and forefinger. Despite the darkness, you could make out his figure sitting at his desk chair by the window, feet kicked up on the sill.

Logan only gave you a quick glance over his shoulder before turning back to the view.

"What d'you want?"

His voice was thick and rough around the edges.

"I came for your textbooks." You replied, tiptoeing against his floorboards. "The professor said you'd have them."

The hand of his that held the cigar waved around. Minuscule ashes fell to the floor as your eyes remained trained on the light and the faint glow of the moon that illuminated the side of his face.

"Be my guest," he said. "Don’t have a clue where they are."

The professor had given you the lowdown when he saw your scars.

Charles told you that despite everything that you had learned- the history that you had known- the Wolverine you'd meet was not the same person. He was a man from a different time with far different, darker memories and enough baggage to weigh down dozens.

Amidst the silence, you cleared your throat.

"Must be hard to wake up in someone else's life."

By now you had reached his desk, your fingertips tracing the lines in the dark, lacquered wood.

You could smell him and the cigar from this distance- aftershave mixed with smoke.

"The professor tell you that?"

"Mhm."

The chair creaked as Logan flicked his hand towards the window, ushering you to come closer.

Watching your step in the dark, you maneuvered around the furniture and sat beside Logan on his desk- pushing loose papers to the side.

"He give you his whole spiel on soulmates too?" He asked, eyes trained on the rain outside.

Soulmates.

Now that was the last thing you expected to come from the Wolverine's mouth.

You'd heard of them more times than you could count. You once wondered whether every repetitive coincidence was a sign that your person was coming. But, when that never happened, you lost hope.

Who got to tell you who you belonged to anyway?

Leaning over, you gingerly took the cigar from his grasp and replaced it with your own fingers. Sitting back into the desk as lightening struck a tree in the distance, you took a puff.

"So that's what the scars on my hands were all about," You thought aloud.

The window fogged as you let the smoke leave from your mouth in a breathy sigh.

Logan tapped his fingers on his thighs, counting the seconds between a lightening strike and its consecutive rumble of thunder.

"Listen, I'm no prince charming if that's what you came here looking for."

Logan's chair creaked again as he leaned back in his seat. His arm draped against the desk as he met your gaze.

You chuckled and held out his cigar, offering it back to him.

"I came here looking for textbooks." You laughed. "You're the one who keeps talking about soulmates. I think you're more of a romantic than you let on.”

His fingers brushed against yours as he took the cigar back into his own hand. Another lightning strike met the ground in the distance, a clap of thunder following moments afterwards.

"You don't buy it?" Logan quirked his eyebrow. It was a teasing question, one he was curious to hear your answer to.

You shrugged.

"I don't think the universe gets to tell me who to love," you said. "If I fall in love with you it's because I love you, Logan. Not because some mark told me to. I just think of it as... a little shove in the right direction.”

The corner of his mouth quirked into a smile for the first time.

"A shove?"

"Like a... blind date." You finished. "Ever been on one of those?"

A congested laugh escaped him.

"Sweetheart, do I look like the type of guy to go on a blind date?"

You bit the inside of your cheek at the name.

Rolling your eyes, you swatted at his arm. You wouldn't admit how much it hurt your knuckles to do so. You'd have to make a mental note to remember his adamantium skeleton.

"Gosh, you're cocky!"

Logan shrugged, "You're the one who likes it apparently."

You felt yourself grow hot at his accusation.

Even though he had a mark signalling his future affection for you, you couldn't help but feel embarrassed by Logan's knowledge of yours. You felt like a child who's crush had just been exposed to the whole class. Was he noting ever glance that you gave him? The way you didn't move when his arm brushed against yours?

A brief pause hung in the air until another thunder clap reverberated against the walls.

"So what's your mark?" You asked.

Logan shoved the cigar into the corner of his mouth. The biting motion forced him to flex his jaw in a way that you would refuse to admit made you start to realize that maybe the universe was right.

And that maybe his cockiness was justified.

He laid out his hands for you. The room was still dark, making the ability to discern the details of his scar impossible. Taking Logan's hands in yours, you summoned your magic into your hands, watching as they glowed gold.

Logan had two large, circular scars imprinted into his palms. It was a clear indicator of your own magical power that surged from your hands.

It left a feeling you couldn't describe in your chest to know that someone else was marked for you. They were destined for you. To be with you. You had a future written together before the two of you had met. Even if he rejected you, there was a sign etched into his skin that bound the two of you together in some fateful way.

Gently, you traced your fingertips against the mark, feeling the warmth that radiated from his palms.

When your eyes flicked upwards, you noticed how close the two of you were now sitting. You could feel his warm breath against your lips as the lingering smell of the cigar drifted up your nose.

Although he wouldn’t admit it, Logan was enchanted by the energy radiating from you. Whether people hated or loved him, his ability got a lot of talk. In his mind though, he would never be a hero. He was just some guy who got lucky.

You, though? He didn’t need you to tell him that you were an Omega level mutant. Logan had heard about you from the professor: you could cast spells, read minds, reconfigure reality- to name a few. You didn't need a reason to fight for what's right, you just did. Again, and again, and again. Even here, now, you were picking up Logan's history class when he knew very well you could be on the other side of the world sipping pina coladas if you wanted.

What the hell was the universe thinking putting you with him?

Logan admired the reflection of the magic on your cheeks and the way your eyes stayed trained on his palms. Your touch was so gentle he could have sworn he was in a distant dream until your eyes met his.

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, gaze locked.

Then another clap of thunder shook the mansion.

You quickly leaned back, pulling your hands from Logan's touch.

"I should... I should go." You said, pushing yourself off of Logan's desk. "It's getting late and I have my first class in the morning."

Logan leaned back in his seat. He said nothing but eyes remained fixed on your form as you made your way towards the door.

Looking back at him with your hand on the knob you made a mental note to remember the image of him with his feet kicked back on the window as he smoked his cigar.

A soft smile remained.

"Good night, Logan."

When you didn't leave immediately, he nodded.

"Night, sweetheart."

Mustering up the courage to shoot him one last smile, you pulled open the door and stepped outside.

Now, Logan didn't know how much he believed in soulmates, but he could be inclined to consider that it was one good wingman.

Leaning back in his seat, Logan sighed and closed his eyes, letting himself drown out his worries with the sound of the rain.

a/n: my inbox is open for more requests! thank you for the request @welcometochilis585

[princessbellecerise]

Beacon of Hope

Summary ✩ After the war, Jacaerys finally finds his purpose for living again

Warnings ✩ Slight spoilers for Fire and Blood

Notes ✩ Hosue of the Dragon has been so depressing lately and I needed a little something to lift my spirits. I hope you guys enjoy!

Some days he just couldn’t sleep.

It had nothing to do with his bed, as he had slept in multiple uncomfortable places during the war. But it was more so that Jacaerys was still in disbelief that this was his life now.

A year ago, the realm was at war and he was on the brink of death. After getting shot at during the Battle of the Gullet, Jacaerys suffered a major injuries that many didn’t believe he would survive. He spent his days floating in and out of consciousness, one foot in the grave until miraculously, the fever broke, Jacaerys rose again.

When he did, he learned that he was no longer a Prince. The war had ended with the death of his mother and the poisoning of the usurper, Aegon. And when he opened his eyes, he was a King.

Broken by the losses he took at war, yes. But slowly over the years, life turned.

Along with the many allies that still fought for him and his mother, Jace begin to rebuild the kingdom until it was whole again. What was once destroyed by dragon fire and blood was rebuilt, and in a few years time, King Jacaerys was able to restore what his family had destroyed.

It made the nights easier, knowing that the threat of war was gone and the realm was finally at peace, but even though his two remaining brothers were alive and the realm had settled, Jace still felt as if something was missing.

The holes that the death of his mother, his brothers, and his stepfather left never seemed to go away. And their death haunted him. For a while, the King believed that even though the realm was whole again, he never would be. The war had taken so many things—precious things—from him, that he no longer thought that hope and love was possible.

Then he met you.

When you came into his life, Jacaerys’ world had been upside down. He was alone with only his infant brothers to share his pain with, and he constantly felt like he was submerged in darkness.

But you…you were his light.

Not like dragon fire, which destroyed everything in its path, but rather the kind of light that inspired hope and growth.

With you, he learned what it meant to love again. What it meant to trust, and to have someone by his side that loved him unconditionally.

You were his greatest hope, and though many credited the maesters for keeping his broken body together, it was you that made his soul whole again. You were his missing piece, his beacon of hope, and he would never have it any other way.

So sometimes, when he couldn’t sleep, and the memories that he tried so hard to repress during the day came hunting for him at night, Jacaerys would stop and he would look upon your sleeping face and realize that everything was okay again.

Though the losses he took would never fully heal, he felt the pain ease knowing that he had you, little Aegon, little Viserys and little Luke to keep him striving towards the future.

Along with the babe that was currently in your belly, your growing family gave Jacaerys purpose. For the first time since waking up, the darkness that shrouded him faded, and it was instead replaced by hope.

Hope a better life. Hope for a better future.

A future he swore that no one would ever take from him again.

[motorsportbarbie13]

A Package Deal - Part 2

In which something a little more serious and a lot more meaningful than either of you anticipated starts to blossom between you and your curly haired crush.

Warnings: nothing, this is so tooth achingly fluffy, you may need a trip to the dentist afterwards. Pairing: Lando x SingleMom!Reader Word Count: 5.3k (oops)

Master List

(quick note in case anyone is paying super close attention. i switched the job reader has at McLaren to fit this bit of plot in. I think switched all mentions over in part one, but just in case you notice the different job title, that was on purpose :) )

yourusername (private) posted:

110 likes liked by landonorris, BFFSarah, coworkerMolly, and others yourusername scenes from the longest winter break ever landonorris is Stella baking me more cookies??? >>>yourusername she gave all gingerbread men mullets 'just like lando', what do you think? >>>landonorris thats my girl!! coworkerMolly that skirt on you is INSANE btw >>>yourusername ;)

The holidays slip away in a blur of presents and hot cocoa dates with Stella so fast that before you know it, school is beginning again and you're forced back into the office on a regular basis. With the way the holidays fell this year, you ended up taking nearly two weeks of annual leave between Christmas and New Years and while you appreciated the time off to reset and battle burnout your job inevitably brought on, by the time you dropped Stella off at school that first morning, you were near ecstatic with relief.

You didn't want to admit it to anyone, not even barely to yourself, but you also had missed Lando. He'd spent Christmas at his parents for a few days before jetting off to somewhere gorgeous and warm with his friends and while he texted you near constantly, you often found yourself wondering what he was doing. You hated how much you looked forward to the chime on your phone alerting you to a new text but even more, you hated how much your heart stuttered in your chest every time you saw it was his name that was lighting up your phone.

You had told Sarah about running into Lando at Harrods that Saturday and then made the mistake of telling her that he had bought the booster seat (downright refusing to allow you to even split the cost it with him) and driven you home. She had grinned like a cat with warm milk, saying she knew something was going on but was wildly excited when you told her about the drive home.

Like you had predicted, Stella had been fast asleep by the time Lando had merged onto the freeway. She had stayed sound asleep even after you had reached your house, Lando allowing his Range Rover to idle for nearly twenty minutes in your driveway as you chatted. The conversation was quiet, neither of you wanting to wake a sleeping Stella but it flowed as easily as champagne on New Years Eve.

As you sat in the passengers seat of the SUV you couldn't help the way your mind wandered into the 'what ifs' of what was happening here. What if everything hadn't been ruined the moment Lando found out that Stella was yours? What if that, despite everything being against you, this was the time it all worked out. They were dangerous thoughts, especially for a single mom who couldn't allow her heart to be compromised. There was another heart that had to be taken into consideration: Stella's fragile six year old heart. So when Lando had started allowing his gaze to wander down to your lips and leaning almost imperceptably closer towards you with each passing moment, you had ignored his advances. You didn't want to, but you were scared. The what if's scared you but the what ifs not working out scared you even more.

You had slipped out of the car before anything could happen, thankful for the fact that Stella began to finally stir after nearly 30 minutes of you and Lando talking.

After that night, the texting had started and while Lando hadn't visted the MTC since, he had made a point to check in with you a few times each day. He didn't want to get ahead of himself, reminding himself of how you had ever so subtly rejected his advances the night he had taken you and Stella home.

As he had been analyzing the evening the next day with Max, his best friend had all but warned him off of you. 'Being with a single mom is a challenge that I don't think you're up for, mate.' Had been his warning, a warning that Lando had so far, chosen to ignore. He knew it was kind of a crazy thing to consider, especially with the lifestyle that he had become accustomed to over the last few years, but there was something magnetic about you. The way you sacrificed everything in order to make sure Stella was taken care of. The way you took on everything solo despite having a solid support system, because you didn't want to be a burden to anyone. The way you still managed to find magic in a life that had to be full of heartache and difficulties.

You were a magnetic force to be reckoned with and the fact that you had opened up to Lando that night in the car while Stella slept soundly in his back seat was something that he cherished.

It was also why he found himself nervously pacing outside of Sarah's office one January morning after he had returned from his vacation in Finland. The new season was fast approaching and it was time to get down to business and spend more time in the sim and at the MTC, making sure he was ready to give everything for the 2025 season. But he also had other reasons to be at the MTC even more: you.

Sarah is in her office that chilly January morning when she hears shuffling outside her door. It's propped open so all it takes is a quick peek outside. "Lando?" She calls, spying the driver hovering outside her door, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he paced the empty corridor.

"Oh. Hi. Sorry." Lando pushes his curls off his face, stepping into the brightly lit office. "Am I interrupting? I can totally come back..."

Sarah nearly laughs at the anxious energy radiating off of Lando but manages to quell it, not wanting to spook him. "No, it's fine. What can I do for you?"

"I...well..." Lando cards his hand hand through his hair once again, searching for the right words. He hadn't gotten the best reception from Max when he opened up about his feelings for you, so he was really nervous about what your best friend was going to say. He didn't want to get told off by her too. "I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor?"

Sarah smirks. "Does this favor have to do with our favorite single mom who works down the hall?"

Lando goes crimson at the question but a bit of him feels relieved at the smile that plays on Sarah's face. "Uh...It does actually. I was wondering if you would be willing to babysit Stella Saturday night so I could take her out to dinner and maybe a movie or something."

Sarah pushes away from her desk, the look on her face transforming from smug to soft admiration. "You really like her, don't you?"

Lando nods earnestly, "I do. Stella kind of threw me for a loop there at first but after spending time with them before Christmas..." He drops the rest of the sentence then, not sure if he should be opening up this much to your best friend. She probably knew how you felt about him already but it was a natural reaction for him to keep his feelings closely held. "I know our lifestyles are not exactly...compatible but she's amazing and I just want to spend more time with her."

"You'd be lucky to land a girl like her, Lando." Sarah observes, leaning back in her chair. "And while I agree, your lifestyles are radically different, I think you two could be good for each other."

"Yeah?" Lando's voice is a wash of relief, having expected to face the same criticism that he had faced from Max.

"Yeah, I do. I'd be happy to take Stella for the night as long as she's okay with it. Have you asked her?"

Lando shakes his head. "I wanted to make sure you were okay with it first."

"Can I give you some advice though?" When Lando nods, Sarah continues. "You're going to have to be patient with her. She's been through a lot and she has a lot on her shoulders. She doesn't need someone adding to that load. She needs someone who's going to help her carry that load, take some things off her shoulders. And if that's not something you think you can do, don't even start anything with her. If you're not all in with her and Stella, please don't pursue anything further, okay?"

Lando leans against the door frame, taking in your best friend's words. "I'd never do anything to add to what she already carries." He says softly and Sarah grins.

"Good. Tell her I'll take Stella for one of our famous sleepovers, yeah? Treat her well, Lando. I don't want to have to kick your ass if you hurt her."

"Thanks, Sarah. I'd never hurt her, I promise."

"Good. Now get, I think she's leaving after lunch today to get Stella for a dentist appointment. She should still be in her office though."

yourusername (private) posted a story:

replies: BFFSarah oh my GODDDDDDDD! you're going to give the poor boy a heart attack. >>>yourusername stoppppp, i'm so nervous. >>>BFFSarah not as nervous as he was when he was in my office on Tuesday asking me to babysit Stella ;) landonorris well hello pretty girl. is that outfit for me? >>>yourusername maybe ;)

"Wait, so you were the one who came up with the idea for that tire deg prediction program?" Lando stares at you from across the table, jaw nearly hitting the white linen tablecloth.

You blush into your wine, not good at taking compliments. The small Italian restaurant that Lando had booked a table at was quiet and cozy, allowing both of you to focus on the person sitting across from you and not anything else. It was nice, getting out of the house without Stella in tow. As much as you adored your daughter and valued every single second spent with her, sometimes it was really nice to have some time away. You were on your second glass of wine and your head was buzzing delightfully, the look on Lando's face as you fell into conversation about the work you were so passionate about sent something that felt a lot like desire curling deep in your belly.

"That was me. I'm actually working on an improved model for the upcoming season. More inputs like weather and historical degradation data should help the model give Andrea and the team a better idea of when the ideal pit window for you and Oscar will be in real time."

Lando just stares at you, dumbfounded. He had known bits and pieces of your job from the time he spent accosting you with questions over the last six months but he had never realized how deeply ingrained you were in his weekend routine already. "That program helped me win Miami last year." He says, totally awestruck.

You fidget under his attention, barely hiding a smile. When you had stumbled upon data analytics and predictive modeling in your first semester of uni all those years ago, you had never imagined it would lead to you writing a program that helped an F1 team predict how and when the tires were going to go off during a race. It was just one of many projects you had worked on in your two years at McLaren but it was absolutely the one you were most proud of.

"Well, hopefully with the improved modeling system I've been working on, we can get you and Oscar onto that top step more this year. I have a meeting with Zak and Andrea next week actually to discuss putting more resources into it so we can further develop it."

"I don't know how you can improve on it, the data I've seen it produce is already wildly helpful." Lando has to resist the urge to cover your hand with his, the need to touch you suddenly overwhelming.

He had been so nervous tonight while driving over to your house to pick you up for dinner, it was a wonder he hadn't ended up in a ditch or something. Stella had already been whisked away by Sarah by the time he got to your house, but there was a (albeit a bit stale) gingerbread man with a curly mullet left on the counter for him. 'Stella gave me strict instructions to make sure you get your cookie.' You had informed him, face serious with the task at hand.

Now that you were sat across from him, plate of food sat half eaten in front of you, Lando found himself not as nervous as he thought he'd be. The butterflies were still there and he had to constantly keep the desire to lace his fingers with yours in check, but the way you had made him feel calm and comfortable during the time he visited you in your office before had simply transferred to dinner tonight. He'd never felt more at ease with someone who made him so nervous before and while it was an uneasy feeling, it also felt like the most natural thing in the world.

"I didn't realize anyone beyond the strategy team used the models." You admit.

Lando likes the way your cheeks flush under his praise, even if you're still refusing to meet his eyes while he compliments you.

"Will and I go over all that data after session. With how unpredictable the tires can be from day to day, I really depend on that information."

"Well, I'm glad my little data project is doing its job." You say simply, before taking another bite out of the food before you.

The rest of dinner passes in casual conversation and meaningful looks exchanged over drinks and dessert. If having dinner with Lando and Stella in London had been fun, this dinner was certainly a more intimate affair. It wasn't until your third glass of wine that you settled into the feeling that there could be something between you and Lando, allowing the fear to take a back seat even for just one night.

"Can I ask you something?" You ask boldly while dessert is being placed in front of you.

"Anything."

And he means it.

"I know the first time you found your way into my office was by mistake but I've always wondered why you kept coming back. I mean, my office is literally on the opposite side of any place you'd ever be normally."

"Besides the fact that you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen in my life?" He flirts shamelessly, the alcohol in his system making him braver than he really felt.

"Lan..." You scold, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

Lando chuckles and finally loses the battle he's been fighting all dinner. He reaches across the table and slips his fingers into the spaces between yours, rubbing his thumb over the soft skin of your hand. The spark that ignites when he touches you has the breath catching in the back of your throat. "Because you talked to me like a normal person. It was right around the time the championship race was heating up, as manufactured by the press as it was. The team was a bit in shambles and I just felt really unsupported."

He doesn't have to say it, but you instinctively know he's talking about the Hungary race earlier in the year. The Wednesday after that race, Lando had popped up in your office first thing in the morning and had sat across from you until well after lunch. The way his shoulders hunched and he kind of just folded himself into the desk chair that you now kept specifically for him had broken your heart.

"You never asked me about racing or the championship or anything like that. You let me talk and ask questions about your job and I was just able to forget the outside world for a bit. I was never Lando Norris, McLaren Formula 1 driver competing with Max Verstappen with you. I was just 'Lan'. I really appreciated that, especially during the second half of the season."

You had become his safe space was what he wanted to say but fear kept that bit of information from passing his lips. For now.

The warmth of Lando's fingers tangled with yours travels through your entire body. "I'm glad I helped." You murmur, heat pooling low in your belly at the look he's giving you from across the table.

"More than you know."

"Okay. No, I understand. Yes, she was fine when I dropped her off this morning. Okay. Yes, thank you. Tell her I'm leaving work right now, I'll be there in about twenty minutes. Thank you, Ms. Rose."

Panic floods your chest as you stare at the computer screen in front of you. "Fuck." You whisper, frantically looking up the phone number for Zak's personal assistant. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

"That is a lot of swearing for 10 in the morning on a Wednesday."

Your eyes fly from your computer screen to the door of your office where Lando stands, leaning against the doorframe looking unreasonably handsome in a green jumper and jeans. You couldn't admire him for long though, panic returning to the front of your mind as you desperately try to figure out what you're going to do.

"Stella's school just called." Lando immediately crosses the room and sits down in 'his' chair, as he's begun to think it. Ever since your date last Saturday night, he hasn't been able to get you off his mind. He's been at the MTC every morning this week, something that even Zak noticed this morning and made a comment about him being extra dedicated to getting the new season started off on the right foot. If only he knew the real motivation for being around all the time now. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd spent any time back at his other apartment in Monaco.

"Everything okay?"

"No, she's running a fever. They need me to come get her except remember that meeting with Zak and Andrea I told you about? It's in..." Your eyes flicker back to your computer screen before bouncing back up to meet Lando's concerned gaze. "Fifteen minutes. I'm going to have to cancel and God knows when I'm ever going to get this kind of face time with either of them before the start of the season. Without their support, the upgrades to that tire deg model I want to make will basically be dead in the water."

Normally, you handle the pressures of being a single mom pretty well. You realize your career trajectory is a little different than normal, with you being unable to work late or travel extensively or do any of the other things that usually help with job advancement and you made your peace with that a long time ago. You make enough to provide very comfortably for Stella, so when you're passed over for promotions or unable to dedicate extra time, you're usually fine with it. Not today though.

"I've been prepping for this meeting for weeks. Weeks, Lando. Sarah is on annual leave in Spain and my dad is in London today with a client, there is literally no one else to go get her. Today of all fucking days." Tears threaten to spill over, you're so frustrated. You've worked so hard to get this meeting and now it's all going to go to waste.

"I'll go get her." The way Lando says it has shock slicing through your heart, quick as a knife. He says it so casually, like you're silly for not even considering him.

"What? No, Lando, I can't ask that of you."

"You're not asking, I'm offering." Lando stands, pulling out his phone. "Text me the address of her school and I'll go get her. I drove my Rover this morning and guess what I still have in the back seat?" A brilliant smile flashes across his face.

Something stills in your chest at the fact that Lando left your daughter's booster seat in his car after all these weeks.

"Lan..."

"I don't want to hear any more arguments, mama."

Well that was certainly something you'd have to unpack your reaction to later.

"Are you sure?" You bite at your lower lip and Lando has to physically restrain himself from kissing you right there in your office. Something which he still hasn't done, as much as it was killing him. After dinner the other night he had wanted to kiss you more than anything but he hadn't wanted to rush you, Sarah's words echoing in his head. How he needed to be patient with you and how you'd bene through so much the past few years so he had chickened out, erring on the side of caution and had settled for a hug and quick press of his lips to your cheek instead. He had regretted it every moment since dropping you off at your door that night.

"Absolutely. Now, go call Ms. Rose back and tell her Lando Norris is coming to get Ms. Stelly Belly. Do you have a spare key for me? I'll take her back to your place and we'll watch movies 'til you can get home."

An unfamiliar sense of calm settles over you at the sound of confidence in Lando's voice. You don't let just anyone take care of Stella, especially when she's sick. Really, the only other two people that you'd ever trust with her are Sarah and your dad. That list now was a list of three, you supposed.

"Okay." You reply weakly. "Thank you, Lando. Seriously. I don't know how I'm ever going to repay you."

"Go get ready for your meeting, pretty girl." Without a second look, Lando turns and walks out of your office. Moments after he gets into the lift to head to his car, his phone chimes with a text from you giving him the address to Stella's school.

A few hours later, you slot the key to your front door in the lock, swinging the door open as quietly as you can manage. From the entryway, you can hear the TV playing in the living room on the other side of the house.

Just in case Stella is asleep, you don't announce your presence opting to tip toe towards where you think Lando and Stella will be instead. The sight that greets you when you finally spy them has your heart clenching painfully, stealing the breath straight out of your lungs. The couch is perpendicular to where you stand, so you can just see Lando's profile as he sits, cheek tilted down resting gently on Stella's head as he watched Frozen playing on the TV in front of him. Stella is cuddled up in his lap, her arms thrown around his shoulders and her little head is buried deep in the crook of his neck. Lando's arms are wrapped securely around your little girl as he cradles her to his chest.

You rub at your sternum, desperatly trying to massage the ache that has settled there at the way Stella is curled up into Lando for comfort. You've never seen her do this with anyone other than you. Not even Sarah.

Lando senses when you walk into the room, having not even heard the door open moments before. Stella sleeps soundly against him, her warm breath tickling at the space between his neck and shoulders. They hadn't been home longer than twenty minutes when Stella had started to cry because she felt so poorly. When Lando had offered her a cuddle to make her feel better until you could get home, Stella had crawled right up into his lap and fell asleep before Anna even had a chance to build that snowman.

He was surprised at how comfortable this felt, with Stella seeking comfort from him. How easily it had come for him to just wrap his arms around her frame so she'd stop crying. He was pretty sure he'd do anything to get your little girl to stop feeling sad.

Lando turns to you after a few moments and smiles. Something passes between you then, with Stella asleep in front of you. It's powerful and reassuring and everything that you've been waiting for since the day you had realized you'd be raising Stella on your own.

"I think I finally got her fever down." Lando whispers, not wanting to wake Stella up.

"Oh my gosh, I didn't even tell you where the paracetamol is in the house." Your hand flies back to your throat in horror.

"It's okay. Stella told me where it was. My mom helped me figure out the dosage for her."

"Your mom?" You squeak, swaying on your feet.

Lando chuckles. That had been an interesting call. He hadn't had the time to explain to her exactly why he was asking for help to figure out how much paracetamol to give Stella but he was panicked, the school being unable to give her a dose of anything and her fever was going up. She had been confused, but helped without further question.

"It's fine. We got it figured out and then I turned Frozen on and she fell asleep pretty quick after that. I haven't found the thermometer yet but she feels a lot cooler than she did earlier."

For a moment, all you can do is stare at Lando. It unnerved you how comfortable he was with her. Not in a bad way but in a completely unexpected way that had goosebumps littering your skin.

"How'd the meeting go?" Lando breaks the silence after a few moments.

Your eyes snap from Stella's sleeping frame to meet Lando's gaze. He made no attempt to move Stella off his lap or hand her over, just kept his arms securely around her while he waited patiently for your answer. He could tell you were trying to wrap your head around what you were looking at and he was hoping it was a good thing. He knew you weren't used to people stepping up for you, the close inner circle you kept was very small, but he hoped that after today you'd maybe let him in a little more.

"Oh..." You pause, struggling to focus on anything other than the sight in front of you. "Good actually! Zak was super impressed with what I've got done so far. He wants me to go to Bahrain later in the month for testing with the team to test the program first hand. And he wants me to go to a few races too"

"Baby," Lando coos, reaching out a hand to capture your fingers with his. Your heart squeezes at the pet name as you barely hold in the squeal at the nickname. "I'm so proud of you, that's amazing."

Tears threaten at the edge of your vision. It had been a long time since someone other than your own father had told you that they were proud of you. "I called my dad and him and my step mom are going to watch Stella whenever I need to travel and whatever they can't cover, I'm going to hire a nanny."

It had been Zak's idea to hire the nanny, a suggestion that nearly bowled you over when he made it. He knew your situation and had wanted to make sure that you were able to travel while being comfortable with leaving Stella with someone.

"Zak offered me a raise to help offset the cost of hiring someone." You say quietly, reflecting on how insistent the man had been when you waffled at the thought of traveling more this season.

The thought of getting to travel with you this season, even if it was solely for work, was so appealing to Lando it was a little silly. He had been thinking the other night how much it was going to suck having to travel so much this year just as things were getting started with you. He usually loved losing himself in the season, not having anything hold him back or weigh him down from enjoying the constant moving and sleeping in different hotel rooms every weekend. But as the season had approached and the prospect of spending less time with you had started to become a reality, the thought of the start of the season had filled Lando with a bit of dread and anxiety.

You just sat there for a moment, smiling over at Lando and Stella as he grinned back at you. It was a comfortable silence as that same feeling from earlier crackled through the air. Like something was being set into motion today that neither of you quite understood but both knew was the start of something important.

"It's almost dinner time. Why don't you go put her down in her bed, she sleeps like this whenever she's sick, and I'll make us dinner?" You suggest finally, realizing your stomach is begging to be fed.

Lando follows your suggestion and within a few minutes, is joining you in the kitchen as you bustle about trying to figure out what to make. "I was going to make some chicken noodle soup, I think I have everything for it and Stella loves it when she's sick."

"Considering I was going to be ordering take away tonight, anything you want to feed me is good." Lando murmurs, coming to stand behind you at the counter as you peel some carrots and chop the onions.

His arms slip around your waist and you can't help but lean back into his warmth for a moment, enjoying the way the heat of his body seeps into your muscles. Lando nuzzles into the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of you as deeply as he can, trying to commit your scent to memory. He wants to remember every little detail about this evening, something calm and steady settling into his bones as he gets a glimpse of what could be.

"You're distracting me." You mumble, the heat of Lando's breath tickling the sensitive skin at your neck.

"I"m sorry, but you're a constant distraction to me so consider it payback."

You chuckle, putting down the knife so you can spin around to face Lando instead. Your arms snake up his body before you clasp them behind his neck, enjoying the way he melts even further into your body now that you're closer.

"Thank you for coming to my rescue today." You whisper, voice raspy with emotion as you think about how much Lando's done for you in the short time you've been spending time with him.

Lando bumps his nose with yours and grins, the way you feel in his arms is something he's never experienced before. "I'd do anything for you and Stella, you know that."

"After today, I certainly do."

The look Lando gives you turns your core molten and you struggle to catch your breath. Gazing up at him through your lashes, you drop your gaze down to his lips before they flit right back up to those green blue watercolor eyes that always seem to find you wherever you are lately. Before you can steady yourself, he's leaning forward eyes locked on yours. The smile that sits at the corner of his mouth is so utterly enticing, you nearly forget your own name.

When Lando covers your lips with his for the first time, you swear you see stars. Gold bursts of light spark behind your closed lids, your entire world stuttering down to the way Lando kisses you. It's full of promise and longing and the smokey taste of desire. Your hands tangle through his curls on their own accord as you desperately try to get impossibly closer to him, losing all sense of decorum and control with just a simple kiss.

When he pulls away, Lando is satisfied at the heavy lidded look you stare up at him with, heart hammering in his chest like he's just finished the Singapore Grand Prix.

"I've been thinking about that since I left you at the door on Saturday without kissing you." He confesses, forehead tipping forward to rest on yours.

Emotion clogs your throat as you struggle for a response. Warmth pools deep in your belly as you settle on just a simple nod in response, knowing that Lando will instinctivly be able to tell that you feel the same. Silence fills the kitchen, comfortable and easy as Lando kisses you again. Both of you could feel it with that second kiss, this thing happening between you on this random Wednesday afternoon and both of you were secretly scared to death at what this was going to mean for every facet of your lives.

Tag list: @shelbyteller , @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland @chlmtfilms @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @sltwins @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @strawberryy-kiwii @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @eloriis @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @bibissparkles @llando4norris @chelseyyouraverageluigi @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @imlonelydontsendhelp @nina-or-anna-or-nora @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @chirasama @lauralarsen @dr3wstarkey @saskiaalonso @rbv3rstappen @ilovechickenwings @guaaafiiburg @mcmuppet @glitteryturtledeer @mindless-rock @piastri-fvx

[simping-overload]

ɢʀᴇᴇᴋ ɢᴏᴅꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴡɪɴɢᴇᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ

a/n: the wings take inspo from maleficent. Colors, and other details are left vague! Feel free to send an ask for any other god for pt 2!

tags: wings, fluff, romance, human? reader, gods, headcanons format. completely gn reader! no gender ever mentioned. Not proof read!!!

characters: zeus, hera, ares, aphrodiate, hephaestus, hermes

Disclaimer: this combines the world of the og Greek texts, blood of zeus, epic the musical, hades game, and my personal view of the gods. this can contain improper or ooc information. I have favorites if it's not obvious.

if you wish to support me please consider donating to my kofi or requesting a commission so I can help feed both my cats and colony cats of my neighborhood!!!

ᴢᴇᴜꜱ

-> loves them, finds that they add on to your beauty. teh strength of your wings impress him greatly, and he'd love to watch you fly. he sometimes likes to fly with you, turning into his bird form so you can race. yes, he will get upset if he loses and zeus tantrum ensues.

-> kiss, kiss, kisses them all the time. not an each of wing is left untouched. he knows where all of your senstive bits are and will use it to his advantage. the spot between your wings is teased relentlessly and often found to be covered in hickeys.

-> he has a painting of your wings and has them placed somewhere on his palace walls and likes to look at it frequently. he makes sure to get one that involves both him and your wings eventually as well. he's adamant that you have your wings around him as your sleep regardless of the position. he enjoys the feeling of your feathers against his skin greatly.

ʜᴇʀᴀ

-> finds your wings to be beautiful. She appreciates them for their appearance and their strength. she can often find herself captivated at the way they move even when idle. she loves flying with you, not to race but to simply relax. she likes to go sight seeing with you, pretty areas you find are often new vacation spots you use to get away from everyone.

-> she likes to touch them, where they connect with your back. the feathers are the softest there, and where your the most sensitive. somtimes she likes teasing you via letting her hands ghost around that area. she also likes to kiss your wings. she often does collect your feathers, adding them to her daily appearance since she wants to both look good(she always does) and have something to constantly remind her of you.

-> she finds it comfortable to be wrapped up in your wings. so please, let her rest against your chest safe in each other's arms as your wings are wrapped around her. blocking the rest of the world from reaching her.

ᴀʀᴇꜱ

-> he's indifferent about your wings, but he's worried about their fragility. at the beginning, he refused to spar with you on this pretense, but that changed when you managed to slap somebody with your wing and send them flying. when you spar, he's still careful and makes sure not to damage your wings intentionally.

-> just like his mother, he also likes to touch them, can quite find them therapeutic when he needs to calm down. he used to be and still is scared of breaking them, he's witnessed how easily his hands can break things and he doesn't want to break you. also because he accidentally pulled a feather out and didn't touch your wings willingly for a while. he doesn't kiss your wings but he smothers his face in them and just chills there.

-> the feathers that shead from your wings get collected for his helmet crest/plume(it's the brush looking thing on greek helms) when he finally acquires enough he'd have them condensed and into a newer helmet that he'd wear to battle.

ᴀᴘʜʀᴏᴅɪᴀᴛᴇ

-> she loves them! quite obsessed with them, actually. she makes sure they're taken care of and beautiful at any hour of day. she usually has a servant take care of them as she watches, making sure they're up to standard or she'd do it herself.

-> she collects your feathers, adding them onto the clothing she wears to show off who she's with. any feathers she can't put into clothes are tucked away in a box for later. don't bother worry the amount of feathers you'd eventually end up with and possibly hiding them. she will always end up finding them and will get upset with you.

-> she likes to sleep in your arms already and the wings are just a bonus. and even when you aren't in bed sleeping, regardless if your simply going about with your day doing whatever. she likes to hide in your wings to avoid her any duties and people.

ʜᴇᴘʜᴀᴇꜱᴛᴜꜱ

-> finds them quite beautiful and interesting. He doesn't worry about the fragility since he has a handle on his strength already. regardless of if you are a warrior or not, he wants to create armor for you. he almost reminds you of a strict seamstress when he takes your measurements.

-> he doesn't really do anything with your feathers aside for using them for a fidget. When he's looking over blueprints or paperwork, he lets himself twist it between his fingers and runs his fingers through it. like he does with his pencils he subconsciously tucks the feather into his ear or into his hair.

-> he doesn't mind being wrapped up into your wings but prefers when you lay on his chest/against him with your wings spread out across the large bed. he likes to run his fingers against the thick bones and feathers as he finds it easier to fall asleep.

ʜᴇʀᴍᴇꜱ

-> wants to race you and is quite impressed if you can keep up but even if you can't, he appreciates the effort. he likes to be held by you and fly with you on his breaks, enjoying your company and the view at the same time. he also would help you take care of them, preening is a new favorite pass time of his.

-> hands and lips are all over the wings. running his hands through them any chance he possibly has as he relaxes. he steals your feathers, he has no use for them but he likes to have them on his long messenger trips to help him feel less home sick. the feather helps him keep his head on his shoulders when he's all stressed out.

-> wrap him in your wings like you'd roll a cat into a burrito. He likes them, and even if he suffocates, he wld be content it. Just like aphrodiate he'd use your wings as cover for when he's hiding away from his duties or people, forcing himself into your arms and having you hide him in your wings as discretely as possible.

[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.”

[solarsturniolo]

𝖂𝖊'𝖗𝖊 𝕵𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝕱𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖘 // 𝕸.𝕾. // 𝕱𝖔𝖚𝖗

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: Matt is so 'sweet best friend that secretly jerks off to your pictures' coded (idea credit to @heartstreet )

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: angst / smut / p in v / soft!dom matt? / unprotected sex / swearing / kinda depressing at the beginning

𝔇𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: THESE STORIES ARE FICTIONAL :)

𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 6871

Three weeks.

He went three weeks without speaking to her. Ever since that night, he couldn’t bring himself to talk to her. It replayed in his head like a broken record, he couldn’t get it to stop. The way she danced with him, the way she clung to him, the way she kissed him, all of which would have normally been more than enough to get him off at least a few times. But Matt hadn’t touched himself in those three weeks. He couldn’t. How could he even think about it when he just felt miserable?

“Matt, are you coming?” 

He groggily lifted his head from his pillow, his hair sticking out in awkward directions. He struggled to open his eyes as the light flooded in through his windows. Looking over his shoulder, he squinted at his brother standing in the doorway. “Huh?”

Chris furrowed his eyebrows. “The meeting? With Laura? Are you coming?” 

It took a moment for the question to register in his brain, but when it did he simply grunted and dropped his head back into the pillow. 

“Dude this isn’t good for you-“

“ ‘M just tired,” he grumbled, his voice muffled by the pillowcase as he buried his face deeper into the pillow. 

“You haven’t left your room in three days.”

Matt opened his eyes, looking over his shoulder at Chris again. “I-“

“Kitchen and bathroom don’t count. Bro, I’m seriously worried about you.”

Matt blinked in response. 

“I miss you,” Chris shrugged, not making eye contact with Matt. “I miss hanging out. You never hang out anymore. You’ll do a video then come hide back in here.” 

Matt sighed, slipping his arm out from under his tight bundle of blankets around him, rubbing his tired face. “I’m sorry, just been dealing with a lot.”

“Like what?”

“…Nothing.”

“Please talk to me, man.”

“You just…” Matt paused, wanting to find the nicest way possible to explain this to Chris. “You don’t take things seriously.” 

Chris shook his head immediately at Matt’s accusation. “I can tell when I need to take something seriously.“

Matt sighed. “Can we talk about it tonight? I just wanna sleep a little longer…”

Chris didn’t respond for a while. He wanted to talk about it now, he wanted to fix everything that his brother was going through. It pained him seeing Matt in a funk like this. The last time something like this happened was in junior year, and Chris never wanted a repeat of that for either of them. He didn’t want to leave Matt alone. If he could cancel the meeting entirely, he would. He would cancel it and lay in bed with his brother and wait however long he needed to talk. 

“I can’t cancel the meeting. Are…Are you gonna be alright?” Chris’s fingers picked at the chipped paint on the doorway. 

“I’ll be fine.” 

“You’ll call me if you need something?”

“Yeah, man. I’ll be alright.”

Chris nodded. The sound of Nick’s footsteps vibrated above them as he came down the stairs, walking around the corner and peeking into Matt’s room as well. “No luck?” 

“He’s tired.”

“He’s been ‘tired’ for the past fifteen days-“

Chris shot Nick a look. “He’s tired.” 

Nick nodded, getting the hint. “Gotcha. We’ll bring home some lunch, do you want anything?” 

Matt grunted softly. “I don’t care.”

“Alright,” Nick replied. It made his blood boil when Matt was short with him or moody, but he knew Matt didn’t mean to act this way. He was constantly stuck in his own head, constantly battling his thoughts, and it just so happened to be one of those periods. A temporary setback. Matt always bounced back, but it never failed to worry Chris and Nick nonetheless. “We’ll be home in a few hours. Love you.”

“Love you, Matt.”

“Love you,” Matt replied, letting his body relax again. He was beyond grateful that they weren’t trying to drag him out of bed this time around. He rolled over onto his favorite side and nuzzled back under the covers, letting his body drift back off to sleep. 

I really love you

I’ve always loved you.

The heat rose to his cheeks as her words played over and over again in his head. ‘I really love you, I’ve always loved you.’ Oh god, and she looked so pretty in his t-shirt. He could almost smell her perfume, the same scent she had worn for years. The same scent Matt grew to love. The scent he craved to get even the smallest whiff of whenever she was near. The scent that would get trapped in the fabric of his hoodies after she had borrowed them, which he refused to launder until the scent was gone entirely. Wisps of vanilla and rose petals that would infect him, his mind, his thoughts… 

Knock knock knock.

Matt groaned, closing his eyes tighter, hoping the sound would stop. Warmth enveloped his face as her soft hands cupped his face. Matt felt his heart pound against his chest. Her words were like heroin, he wanted more. He wanted to hear her talk to him for hours. Before he could even think of what to say, her lips pressed against his. He cupped her face, his lips moving slowly against hers as they shared a passionate kiss. She smelled sweet like candy, and her lips tasted like sugared lemon drops; her favorite lip balm, which quickly became Matt’s favorite as well. 

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. 

Ten more minutes. Please let me stay here for ten more minutes. 

Her hand caressed his cheek, their noses brushing together as she moved impossibly closer to him. Neither of them initiated for the kiss to deepen, though Matt wasn’t complaining in the slightest. This was enough for him. The tenderness, the passion, the love…it was more than enough for him. He pulled back for a moment, still close enough to feel her lips brush against his as she caught her breath. “I love you.”

BAM BAM BAM 

Matt huffed, opening his eyes once again. He groaned softly as he became suddenly aware of the tent in his boxers. Not even safe in my dreams. Rolling himself out of bed, Matt sat at the edge of his mattress, looking at his reflection in the mirror leaning against his wall. He had to admit, he was looking rough. His hair was a god awful mess, sticking out in awkward directions, his cowlick refusing to flatten when he ran his fingers through his hair. His cheeks were sunken, though it was hard to tell with his unkempt facial hair growing in. The bags under his eyes were dark, his lips were dry and cracked; he looked rough. 

BAM 

BAM

BAM

Those fucking assholes. Matt pulled on his pyjama pants, after adjusting his cock in his boxers, and stepped out of his room, hissing at the cold hardwood floor under his feet. He began to make his way to the front door, heading down the steps that led to their front entryway. “Fuck, you idiots have keys why can’t you ever fucking use them,” he grunted, unlocking the front door. “Why do I have to be the responsib-“ his voice caught in his throat as he swung the door open, his gaze landing on her. She looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowing together as their eyes locked. 

“Oh…hi Matty.”

Matt swallowed his words, looking down at his feet, suddenly growing quiet. Matty. Even after all of this time, even after the long restless nights staring at his old messages with her, wanting nothing more than to call her and hear her gentle voice again, she addressed him by his nickname. The one he claimed to hate, though they both knew that wasn’t the case. Three weeks with no contact, and she treated him just the same as she had before. The question plagued his mind after the second day of ghosting her, wondering if she would be mad at him, wondering if she would treat him differently. How foolish of him. 

“Hey, kid,” he mumbled, his voice gravely and low. 

“Are…um…Nick and Chris here?” She asked. 

“You just missed them…They went to a meeting with Laura.”

“And you didn’t?” 

Matt shrugged his shoulders, leaning against the doorway. “I wasn’t feeling good,” he stated. Not necessarily a lie, he just knew he couldn’t explain the whole truth to her. 

“Why have you been ignoring me?” She asked him. Matt felt his heart drop into his stomach. She sniffled softly. His head snapped up and, suddenly, Matt’s behavior felt ridiculous to him. He had shut her out, he had pushed her away without even a second thought as to what she might feel or think. He examined her face; the same dark shadows under her eyes, the hollowing of her cheeks that now matched his. “Can I come in?” She tried to ask, but he heard the break in her voice. He saw her lip quiver as she spoke. He took note of her tugging at her sleeves in an attempt to distract herself from her emotional state. 

He wanted to scream, not at her but at himself. How could he have put her through this? It was selfish of him, to say the very least.

“Y-Yeah, of course,” he stepped aside, allowing her to walk past him into the house. “Um, I think Nick and Chris will be back fairly soon,” Matt explained to her as he shut the front door, locking it behind him out of habit. He turned to face her. “I’m sure they don’t mind you hanging out in one of their rooms or something,” he mumbled, his gaze never meeting hers. 

“Please look at me.”

Matt obliged, looking up to meet her eyes, almost as if he was waiting for the command to do it. He felt his mouth go dry, and suddenly all of the words he knew became a jumbled mess of unintelligible alphabet soup in his head. “You haven’t talked to me in weeks…Did…Did I do something to upset you?” She asked him, worry and sincerity clear in her tone. She spoke slowly, thoughtfully; she didn’t want to come off like she was accusing him of anything. 

“No,” Matt started, licking his dry lips as he looked at her. Even now, exhausted and clearly hurt by the situation at hand, she still looked beautiful. He could look at her all day and never grow tired of it. “You didn’t do anything to upset me.” He could feel his hands growing clammy, his hands balling into fists and slipping into his pockets. 

“I must’ve done something… I mean, it's been three weeks, Matt,” she whispered. 

Matt pursed his lips, his heart ramming against his chest. Without warning, Matt felt his eyes glossing over, his lip trembling. “I did something awful, and I…I fucking hate myself so much,” he rasped. He watched as her beautiful, encapsulating eyes widened. She stepped toward him, concern written across her face, her hand reaching out to touch his bicep. 

You’re disgusting, Matt. How could you put her through this? All for your own selfish benefit. What will she do when you tell her? She has every right to hate you. She’d be stupid not to. You’re a greedy, disgusting creep. 

“Matty? Talk to me.” Her voice wavered as she spoke. “Please?” Her hand grasped his bicep ever so gently, and Matt looked down at her. It was like she had turned a light on inside of him. The jumbled mess tangled in his brain became undone in seconds. He felt the world come to a standstill. He could breathe again.

He hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath.

With a sharp exhale, Matt pursed his lips; something that had become a habit of his. “You’re gonna hate me.”

She let out a soft laugh. “I could never hate you.”

Matt stayed quiet, looking down at the floor. It didn’t take long for her soft fingers to rest beneath his chin, gently lifting his head to meet her gaze once again. Matt could have melted as he basked in the beautiful light of her smile. He felt her hand slip upwards to cup his cheek, her soft fingers brushing against the gruff texture of his messy facial hair. “I’m sorry.”

“What? Sorry for what?” She asked, her words laced with confusion, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked at him. “Matt, please talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

Matt sighed. He pulled away from her touch and made his way up the stairs, her following close behind him. He went and took a seat on the couch in the living room, his elbows digging into his knees as he held his head in his hands. He wanted to tell her, she deserved to know. It wasn’t right for him to keep this from her…but God he was terrified to know what she’d think of him. The seat next to him sunk down as she took a seat beside him, gently rubbing his arm to soothe him. “Matt?”

“I…really like you,” he whispered. “Like, really like you.”

“Matt…I like you too-”

“No,” he shook his head. “I have liked you for fucking years and I’ve always pussied out of telling you. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want to risk losing our friendship if you didn’t feel the same way. I tried to ignore it for years, but…” he trailed off, taking a second to breathe. He needed to relax, to give himself time to put together exactly what he wanted to say and exactly how he wanted to say it. “I mean, I’ve liked you since middle school. I always thought you were funny and pretty and kind…Nick and Chris tried to set me up so many times so I could ask you out, but I just…I couldn’t do it.” He rubbed his face, his heart ramming against his chest from finally having the courage to tell her everything. After all of these years, his secret was out. “I never wanted to cut you off or ignore you, but after what you said that night-”

“What do you mean?” She asked, looking at him in confusion. “What did I say?” 

His heart stung a little. You don’t even remember…You don’t even remember telling me you loved me. Do you remember kissing me? Did it mean anything to you? Was it all just a drunken mistake to you? What am I thinking? Of course it meant nothing. I’m nothing, no one. “You said you loved me,” he replied simply, still refusing to make eye contact with her. 

“I…I said that?”

Matt nodded. “You kissed me, too.”

“I…I don’t even remember that…” she admitted. 

“That doesn’t surprise me, you were pretty drunk. I figured it was all just some drunken mistake,” he sighed. 

She shook her head, moving closer to his side. “Just because I was drunk doesn’t mean it was a mistake.”

“You don’t even remember it,” he reminded her. 

His heart stopped as her fingers gently traced his jaw, his head turning to meet her gaze. She was close, too close. He could smell her perfume, it made him feel dizzy just thinking about burying his face into her neck to drown himself in it. She looked deep into his eyes, Matt could have melted at the warmth in her gaze. “Help me remember,” she whispered, searching for any glimpse of hesitation or uncertainty in his eyes. He felt her lean in closer to him and he mirrored her, leaning in as well. 

“Are you sure?” He asked.

She didn’t respond, not verbally anyways. Her hand caressed his cheek, fingers brushing against his messy stubble. She closed the gap between them, her soft lips gently pressing against Matt’s. He felt his face heat up, warmth flooding his cheeks, she could surely feel it on her fingertips. He kissed her back slowly. Is this real? Please let this be real. If this is a dream, please let me stay here forever. 

Engulfed in a wave of passion, she pressed her free hand against his chest, her manicured nails gently grasping at the fabric of his shirt. Her head was swirling, her stomach churning as he cupped her face in his hands, their intimacy growing with each moment that passed by. He could hardly think straight, all he could focus on was her. The intoxicating scent of her perfume that had him feeling faint, the sweet taste of her lemon flavored lip balm, her soft skin caressing his; every thought he had was about her. It was always about her. 

He didn’t break the kiss for a second, he pulled her into him, his arms hooking around her and lifting her up as he rose to his feet. He smiled as she giggled into the kiss, humming softly against her lips. Matt felt her legs hook around his waist and he prayed that she couldn’t feel his erection pressing against her. He carried her swiftly to his bedroom, blindly shutting the door behind him with his foot. Tossing her onto his bed, a soft squeal escaped her and she looked up at him with her eyes that were sparkling with excitement. Matt crawled onto the bed, moving slowly, almost prowling like a predator, his arms resting on either side of her head to hold himself up above her. “I’m never letting you go again,” Matt mumbled softly, pressing a kiss to her soft sweet lips. 

She brought her hands up to his messy hair, tangling her fingers in the soft waves. “Don’t,” she murmured back, taking his bottom lip between her teeth. Matt groaned, the blood rushing to more than just his cheeks. He let his head fall into the crook of her neck at the feeling of her thigh lifting, his cock aching under the fabric of his thin pyjama pants. “F-Fuck, don’t do that.” He bit softly at her shoulder, sloppy open mouthed kisses trailing down to her collarbone. “I…I won’t be able to control it.” 

“I don’t want you to,” she breathed out.

Matt felt her thigh lift again, and he gave in. He rolled his hips, a low growl emitting from the back of his throat. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he grunted against her skin, nipping softly at her neck once more. He felt her fingers tug at his hair and Matt looked up to meet her lustful gaze. “I do,” she argued. Her eyes flickered to his lips, and she licked hers in anticipation. Matt’s dick throbbed, he could feel the precum dampening the fabric of his boxers. You do. You know how long I’ve wanted this because you’ve wanted it to. You’ve wanted me.

Matt’s breath caught in his throat, his brain hardly having the time to keep up with everything that was happening. He gasped as she pushed him off of her, his back landing softly against the mattress. He watched in awe as she hooked her leg over his thighs, straddling his waist, the bulge in his pants being far from unnoticeable at this point. His eyes traced every inch of her body, his mind only being able to process how beautiful she looked. Her hair fell in dark waves over her shoulders, her skin glowed in the soft orange haze emitting from the LED strips taped to his ceiling. Reaching one hand up, Matt gently dragged his knuckle along her cheek. “You’re so pretty,” he whispered, his fingers delicately tucking her hair behind her ear. His lips connected with hers again, pulling her body closer to his. 

Not bearing the thought of breaking the kiss, Matt blindly fumbled with the drawstrings of his pyjama pants. Sensing the desperation from him, she moved her hands down to his lap to assist his failing attempts. The soft graze of her fingers over his crotch made his cock jolt, his hips bucking forward as a whorish moan fell from his lips into her mouth. Her teeth gently nipped at his bottom lip as she kissed him, her confidence never faltering. Her soft hands slipped under the waistband of his pants. Matt was almost sure he was going to cum on the spot. Her fingers dragged slowly along the dick print in his boxers, and Matt found it very difficult to focus. She was so gentle. Matt could feel the warmth from her palm as her hand cupped him. His lips had trouble keeping up with hers. His mind flooded with adrenaline and dopamine. “I need you,” he exhaled, his nose brushing against hers, lips ghosting over her own. “Please, I’ve needed you for so long.”

She laughed softly. “How do you want me, Matty?”

“Just like this,” he whispered, pressing his lips softly to the corner of her mouth, kissing down to her jaw. He pulled her closer to him, groaning softly as her hips moved against his ever so slightly. “Please, I wanna see you. I wanna watch you,” he mumbled, his lips now pressed to the underside of her jaw, sucking softly at her skin. He dreamed of this for years; kissing her, marking her, letting everyone know that she was his. 

She gasped softly, her head falling to the side to allow Matt access to her neck. The softest of whines fell from her lips, doing nothing to ease Matt’s excitement. “Pretty, pretty girl,” he hummed, his voice coated thick with desire. His teeth nipped at her soft skin. His hands ran up her sides and swiftly over her chest. His fingers trembled as he hesitantly let his hands rest on the plush of her breasts. His breath felt hot against her skin, his rhythm faltered slightly. He stopped for a moment to admire her, looking up to meet her gaze. Matt swallowed his nerves, panting softly from the pure sensual intimacy. It was the furthest he had ever gone and it was driving him crazy. Twenty years old and it was the first time he had held a woman this close to him, the first time he had ever felt the weight of a woman’s breasts in his hands, the first time he had ever left a mark on someone. 

She could tell that he was nervous; she found it cute. His inexperience, his shy demeanor, his soft touches. It was driving her crazy. Her hands came down to rest on top of his, and almost immediately he went to pull away. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, but was shocked when she grasped his wrists, bringing his hands back to her chest. His dick ached in his boxers, a feeling he was all too familiar with when it came to her. She closed the gap between them, leaning in and kissing him once more. His hands were steady now, his confidence boosted. A wave of courage surged through him, his hands squeezing her soft breasts as he kissed her. She hummed against his lips, a sound that he was still learning to get used to. 

His fingers tugged at the fabric of her shirt. “Please,” his voice muffled against her lips, afraid that if he pulled away it would all disappear. She didn’t need him to say anything more though, and she pulled away from the kiss for a moment, just long enough to pull her shirt off over her head and toss it blindly onto the floor of Matt’s bedroom. Matt’s hands cupped her breasts once again, grunting softly against her plump lips as his fingers came in contact with her bra. “You couldn’t make this easy for me, huh?” he breathed out, looking up through his enviously long eyelashes at her as his hands snaked behind her. She giggled softly, her own hands holding his shoulders to keep herself steady. “To be fair, I didn’t think we’d end up here. I thought you hated me,” she hummed. 

“I could never hate you,” he repeated her words from earlier, his large hands encompassing her breasts. She whimpered, pursing her lips. “I’ve loved you for too long to ever hate you.”

He pressed kisses to her chest, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her perfume. His fingers fumbled with the clasp of her bra. Any confidence he had built washed away as the clasp stayed clipped behind her. His eyebrows furrowed as he tried again to unclasp it but to no avail. He huffed in annoyance. “This is fucking stupid.”

“Need some help?” She laughed softly, reaching behind her and swiftly unclasping her bra. Matt ran his hands gently up to her shoulders, slipping the straps of her bra down her arms. He watched in awe as the fabric fell from her chest, revealing her perfect ample breasts. All he could do was stare for a solid minute, admiring her in every way possible. They were absolutely perfect. They were heavy but still somehow perky, her pink nipples hardened under his gaze. He licked his lips. She blushed as he stared at her, not used to the intimate tension between them. “Stop,” she whispered, bringing her hands up to hide her face, her arms covering her chest. Matt’s strong hands grasped her wrists delicately, pulling her hands away from her face. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You’re just-”

“I know,” she sighed. 

Matt raised an eyebrow, seeing the way her expression changed. “I don’t think you do...” He let his gaze flicker down to her chest once again, a soft moan echoing at the back of his throat, his cock throbbing in his boxers. “Can I touch you?”

She took her bottom lip between her teeth, answering him with a single nod of her head. Her arms fall to her sides, allowing him access to her chest once again. He grazed her chest with his rough fingers, his thumb brushing over her hardened nipple. The sound she made was like a drug, he wanted it injected into his veins. He softly pinched her nipples, his palms cupping the weight of her chest. She watched him as soft moans fell from her lips, all she could think about was how badly she craved him. How badly she wanted him. Matt lifted her breasts ever so slightly before letting go of them, watching them fall back to their resting position. He reached behind him, tugging the hem of his shirt up over his head. He blindly tossed his shirt to the side, not caring where it landed. Once it was off of him, Matt pulled her body even closer to his, their chests pressing together. Matt cupped her cheek, kissing her hungrily. Their lips moved together passionately, synchronizing perfectly. 

She moaned softly, reaching between them and slipping her hand under the waistband of his pants. “So big, Matty,” she whispered softly against his lips, a shiver running down his spine as the warmth of her hand cupped him through his underwear once again. Jaw going slack, Matt let out yet another sound of bliss. He felt himself aching for her, aching to be inside of her. He needed it. He’d die without it. “I need you, Matt,” she admitted, stroking him at an agonizingly slow pace. His voice caught in his throat as he kissed her, his hands slipping from her waist to tug his pyjama bottoms down. He groaned, slipping his thumbs under the band of his pants and boxers, sliding them down to his thighs. His cock stood proudly, his tip red and swollen as his arousal leaked from his slit. 

She parted from the kiss for a moment, looking down at his lap. Her mouth watered at the sight of his erection. She couldn’t take her eyes off of it. He was big, at least seven or eight inches. He kept the hair trimmed and neat. He had the most perfect dick she had ever laid her eyes on. He took his cock in his large hand, stroking himself slowly as she watched him. Matt groaned again. “You did this,” he mumbled lowly. “You make me feel like this. Look at what you do to me.” He panted, coating his shaft with the precum leaking into his hand. “F-Fuck, I’m so tired of my hand, baby. Been wanting you for months.”

He watched as she shimmied out of her own shorts, kicking them off of her and onto the floor with the rest of their discarded clothes. She sat herself on his thighs, her fingers tracing over her heat through her panties. Matt practically drooled at the sight of her arousal pooling in her underwear. Her fingers circled over her clit slowly, her lip catching between her teeth. Matt fisted at his cock, his gaze never daring to tear away from her. He let out a shaky breath, his hair falling in front of his face, his swollen pink lips parting as whorish whines forced their way out of his throat. “You did this,” she copied. Sliding her nimble fingers over the patch of wetness her arousal had made. He groaned, licking his lips. He watched her breasts rise and fall with each breath she took, her plush thighs pressing against either side of his as she sat on his lap. Matt used his free hand to touch her waist, thumbing at her soft skin. Her eyelids were heavy, her eyes glossed over with desire and longing. 

Matt hesitated. He wanted to move forward, he wanted to continue. His nerves got the best of him though, and he froze. This was real. This was happening. And he had no idea how to move forward with it. Maybe I should have had sex before this, maybe then I wouldn’t be so awkward and nervous. What do I do now? Do I touch her? Do I kiss her again? 

As if she could sense it, she leaned in and kissed him softly. “Don’t think too much, you’re doing great,” she whispered. His heart swelled at her praiseful words. “I’m sorry-” he started, but she stopped him with another swift kiss on the lips. She pulled her underwear down and kicked them off, leaving herself bare in front of him. Matt kissed her back, bringing both of his hands down to her waist. She hummed against his lips, hooking her arms around his shoulders. 

Matt laid back against the pillows once more, pulling her hips toward him. “Let me taste you,” he hummed. “Please.”

She obliged, letting him maneuver her to exactly where he wanted her. Matt’s fingers dug into the plush skin of her thighs, pulling her hips down toward his face. She gasped, feeling the warmth of his tongue delicately lick a stripe up her heat. Her fingers knotted in his hair, her stomach lurching as she took a sharp inhale. A cocky smile tugged at his lips. Matt pressed a supple kiss to her clit, one of his hands sliding up her thigh. He flattened his tongue against her drooling pussy, moaning as her arousal coated his tongue. The taste was unlike anything he had ever experienced. She was sweet, like freshly picked cherries. Juicy and ripe with flavor. Matt licked another stripe through her folds, circling her clit gently with his tongue. His nose brushed softly against her pelvis. Every breath he took filled his lungs with the sweet scent of vanilla, his head was spinning as it infected his brain, encapsulating every thought of his. He flicked his tongue, earning a sweet mewl of pleasure from her. He did it again, receiving the same rewarding sound in return. 

Matt kissed her clit again, sucking ever so delicately. He felt her squirm above him and he slipped his hands up to her waist, holding her still. He flicked his tongue over her clit again and again, loving the beautiful sounds she made, the sounds that he made her make. He couldn’t hold back any longer, he needed to have her. He pulled her hips down to feel the weight of her on top of him. He shook his head slightly, burying his face between her thighs, his nose brushing against her bundle of nerves as he swirled his tongue experimentally between her folds. She gasped, rocking her hips against his face. Matt groaned, finding the sight above him almost pornographic. He had only dreamed of this moment more times than he could count. He had spent years studying, learning all of the things that women loved and hated. He wasn’t going to ruin his shot with her. 

“M-Matt,” she whined, running her fingers through his messy hair, pushing it out of his face. Matt hummed a soft ‘thank you’ against her, smirking when he got another moan from her in response. “Matty, feels so good,” she sighed, rolling her hips against his face again. He flattened his tongue against her heat. She let her head fall back, continuing to rock her hips to get herself off on his tongue. Matt may have been inexperienced, but he could have fooled her. 

“Please, I want you Matt,” she breathed out. “I need to feel you inside of me.”

Matt pressed a soft kiss to her clit one last time before releasing his iron grip on her waist, letting her lift her hips. She moved back to straddle his waist, Matt reaching between their bodies. He took ahold of his shaft, gently rubbing his tip through her soaked folds. She whined, lowering her hips. Matt groaned as his tip pressed against her entrance, breathing out sharply as it slipped through her folds again. “F-Fuck,” he grunted, his face flushed with heat. He tried again, lining himself up with her entrance. He choked out a flustered moan as it slipped again, his tip sliding over her clit. Matt felt like he could cry, embarrassed by his inexperience. 

“Nice and easy, baby,” she cooed, replacing his hand with her own and lining himself with her entrance once again. She slowly let her hips drop, and Matt gasped as he felt her sink down onto his shaft. His jaw went slack, shaky breaths falling from his lips. Her tight cunt swallowed his cock, a feeling that Matt had been dreaming of for years. He groaned as she took all of him, his hands grasping her waist tightly, fingers digging into her hip bones. “Holy f-fuck.”

“S-So big, Matty,” she exhaled. Matt looked down at where their bodies connected, swallowing the lump in his throat. He moved one of his hands to her lower abdomen, his fingers tracing over the very faint outline of his cock through her skin. “I-Is this supposed to…” he trailed off, pressing his hand softly against her abdomen, earning a high pitched whine from her. She lifted her hips, Matt watching in awe as she sunk back down onto him. 

She kept her pace slow and controlled, her pussy clenching around his cock with each rise and fall of her hips. He panted, desire coursing through him. He had never felt pleasure this satisfying before. Jerking off couldnt even begin to compare to this. He had dreamed of this, of what her pussy would feel like around him. It was even better than he could have imagined. The warmth, the tightness, her sounds. Matt whined, closing his eyes tightly. His head fell back against the pillows. He bucked his hips up, choking out a cry as the pleasure flooded through his body. His muscles tightened, his body trembled, his head felt cloudy. 

Matt took a second to catch his breath, and then he froze. He opened his eyes, looking up at her with guilt ridden eyes. There’s no fucking way…

“Did you just-”

Matt’s ears glowed red with embarrassment. He watched as she lifted her hips, his cock still erect and standing proudly as she raised herself off of him. Matt felt his stomach tighten as his cum oozed from her entrance, sliding down her thighs. He swallowed, his throat feeling unbelievably dry. There’s no fucking way I just came. It’s been, what? Five minutes? 

She looked at him with something in her eyes that he couldn’t describe. Was it disappointment? It had to be.

Matt sat upright, pulling her closer to him. He brushed her hair out of her face, his fingers touching her cheek. “No, no I’m not ready for this to be over,” he mumbled before kissing her hungrily. She let out a surprised moan, her hands coming up to cup his face. He reached between their bodies, lining himself up with her entrance yet again. 

He slipped into her with ease, groaning as he bottomed out almost immediately. He brought his large hands down to her ass, guiding her hips. She caught on, rocking her hips at the pace he had set. She moaned against his soft lips, feeling him fill her up with each slow sensual thrust. Matt lifted her up slightly, rolling both of them over so that she was laying beneath him, never pulling away from her for even a second. He held himself up by his forearms, burying himself deep inside of her. A mix between a groan and a growl escaped his throat, his hips bucking forward again to re-live the feeling. “Such a tight pussy, fuck, I knew you’d be tight for me.” He ducked his head down into her neck, sloppy kisses covering her skin . “F-Fuck, baby. Can’t blame me f-for cumming fast when you feel th-this good.” 

She whined, acknowledging his words though she couldn’t figure out what to say in response. Her head was clouded with thoughts of him. Her body trembled under his touch. She clenched around him with each thrust he made. She bit her lip, trying her best to hold back her sounds, but Matt wasn’t having it. He brought a hand to her cheek, his thumb running over her bottom lip, gently pulling it from where it was trapped between her teeth. “Let me hear you, princess.”

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, a sight that drove him crazy. He began thrusting a little faster, satisfaction feeding his ego when he heard her moans fall from her lips. “Atta girl, fuck you sound so pretty…look so pretty too,” he mumbled. He sharply bucked his hips forward, a pornographic moan escaping her. Matt grunted, repeating the action in a desperate attempt to hear it again. His hand slid down to her chest, his fingers tweaking her nipple just the way she liked it. He watched in amusement as she squirmed beneath him, whining and panting, a complete mess. 

His hips snapped forward, his reward being another whorish moan. He was obsessed with the way her ample tits bounced and recoiled with each thrust he made. The headboard began to rock into the wall, knocking against it. “I fucking love you,” he breathed out, burying his face into the crook of her neck. He bit and sucked at her skin, marking her with his lips. “You’re mine,” he growled, nipping at her neck. “Say it. Say you’re my girl.”

She nodded, opening her mouth to speak but only the soft sounds of her enjoyment answered him. He grunted, his arm wrapping around her back, pressing her body against his. “Say it.”

“Y-Yours,” she managed to squeak out. “I love you, I-I’m yours,” she replied. 

“Good girl,” he mumbled, thrusting into her again and again, his second orgasm building up inside of him. He felt her clench around his cock, his hips jolting forward. “Want you to cum for me,” he growled, sucking another mark into her skin as he rocked his hips into hers, burying his dick inside of her. 

She whined, reaching down between their bodies to rub her clit, her heart pounding, her blood pumping, her breathing growing rapid and uneven. Matt could tell that she was close, he had watched enough porn to know the signs. He felt a sense of pride, he had worried that he wouldn’t perform well his first time but it was proving to be the opposite. “Say my name,” Matt demanded. 

“M-Matt-”

“Again.”

“M-Mmph…” she whimpered, body tensing up as her orgasm began to wash over her. Matt grunted in her ear, roughly thrusting into her. “Say my name.”

“F-Fuck, Matt!” she cried out, a string of filthy moans following as she reached her high. Her thighs began to tremble, her body flooded with warmth. Matt groaned as she clenched around him again, and it was the last thing he needed to reach his own orgasm. Matt thrusted his hips a couple more times, riding out his high as he filled her with his load, his cum leaking out of her tight pussy and down his shaft. He breathed heavily as he came down from the euphoric feeling, lifting himself up to look down at her. 

She looked up at him with tired eyes, hazy and glossed over with desire. He stroked her cheek, his thumb gently running over her lips. She watched his gaze, no guy had ever looked at her like this before, especially after sex. His eyes held so much love and adoration. “I hope you know I’m never gonna be able to get over you.” 

She laughed softly, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. “Who said you’d need to?”

𝔄𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯'𝔰 𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢: trust me, im cooking. He didn't tell her the 'awful thing he did' for a reason.

𝔗𝔞𝔤𝔰: @flowerxbunnie @mattslolita @mattsbratt69 @oversturn @simplysturn @soursturniolo @megamett44-lover @cupidsword @sturnybabes @jjmaybankswifes-blog @plasticferal @sturniolosreads @bernardsleftbootycheek @egirlshit @m4ttslvr @nonamegirlxsturniolo @chrizz333 @sturniolopowers @mattsleftnipple03 @worldlxvlys @hearts4chriss @tillies33ssss @janiellasblog @creamoncreamoncream2 @meg-sturniolo @ellie-luvsfics @lustfulslxt @braindead4l @xtravrgnoliveoil @ghostlythinggoingaround @taekwite @querenciasturniolo @sturnioz @luverboychris @meerkatzthings @soupuurr @gemofthenight @sturniolofan4lifee @hi-7-hi @blahbel668 @mattspleasure @whicked-hazlatwhore @mqttittude

[cassie48]

• 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘺 ∙

Dark!Paul atreides x fem pregnant reader

Pt 3

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

The day after Paul had made his motivational speech to the Fremen about turning Arrakis into dune again, you two were in your shared room at night.

You sat at your little vanity, brushing through your hair, preparing yourself for bed. You saw Paul go over his plans at his desk, standing above it all.

You couldn’t stop worrying about what would happen tomorrow. What if Paul got hurt? What if something bad happened and you were left all alone? It’s all suddenly became too much for you, as you began to cry, dropping the brush in your hand.

Paul’s head shot up, very shocked at your sudden crying. He quickly left his desk. “My love?” He asked as he walked over to you.

You held your hands out to him, hiccuping and crying as you did. God, you have been so emotional these last few months.

He finally reached you, he picked you up, and sat you on his lap, trying his best to calm you down.

“I’m sorry paul. I’m just so worried about what’s gonna happen tomorrow. What happens if something bad happened to you, and I’d be left all alone!” You said suddenly crying even heavier.

Paul wiped away your falling tears, hugging you close to him. “Sweetheart, nothing will happen. I’d never dream on leaving you. Your seven months pregnant with my child. I’d 𝗡𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 leave you alone” he snarled, hating the image of it.

You nodded into his chest, slightly calming down. He toyed with your hair, running his hands through it. “Your just tired, you’ll feel better in the morning” he told you, placing his hand on your big bump, which was covered by a night dress.

“Ok” you whispered, your eyes becoming heavy as you drifted off to sleep in his lap. He smirked at you. The pregnancy had really taken a toll on your body. You were constantly crying, extremely needy and most of all, falling asleep almost anywhere. But 𝗚𝗼𝗱 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱. He loved how you had to rely on him. This child will definitely have siblings.

He carefully picked you up, bring you over to your shared bed, placing you under the covers delicately. Smiling down at you and giving you one last kiss to the forehead, before going to check his palms once more.

The following day was eventful to day the least. You had went with Paul as he checked with Chani and Stilgar to make sure they were ready. As soon as the battles were to begin, he brought you into a hidden room, with five Fremen warriors.

“Are you alright?” He asked cupping your cheek gently.

You nodded “promise you’ll come back to me?” With a pout.

“Promise” is all he said before pulling you into a passionate kiss, eventually pulling away when he remembered he had to fight a battle.

He turned to the Fremen who were to protect you “if any of you let any harm come her way, I will slit all of your throats” he said giving them a look of rage and disgust.

You shared one last smile with him before he left. You hadn’t heard anything till ten minutes later, you heard Paul yell “long live the fighters” in the Fremen language.

After that many bombs and guns were firing, you were hoping none were at Paul. Your heart was racing as you sat there for over an hour 𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹𝘆.

Eventually, after what felt like centuries, you heard running in the hall outside your room. You prayed it wasn’t a harkonnen, god only knows what they’d do to you.

“Y/N!” You heard Paul yell from outside.

You quickly jumped up and walked as fast as you could to meet him. When you did he pulled you into a tight hug, before kissing you passionately, kissing all down your neck and face. The Fremen behind you looked away in fear.

“We’ve done it! We’ve won, but I need to challenge the emperor for the throne” he said kissing your cheek.

You nodded as he guided you to a meeting room where all the Fremen had been since the battle. You cling onto Paul, as people whizzed past you left right and centre.

Chani had came up to hug you, telling you she was glad you were alright. You hugged her back, telling her the same.

Paul took you back into his arms, you two resting your heads on each others, savouring the moment.

“You know I’ll always love you, for as long as I live and even in death. I need to challenge the emperors throne, but I need you at my side to rule, can you do that?” He asked both hands on your waist.

“Of course Paul. Wherever you are, I will be” you told him, pecking him on the lips slightly, making him smile.

After a moment Paul turned to the Fremen, yelling “bring my prisoners”.

Only a moment later, you saw feud-rautha, the emperor and his daughter, and the Reverend mother who had taught lady Jessica come in.

Paul explained that he wanted to claim the throne as his. All of them seemed shocked at his decision. The reverend mother was not happy with him at all.

“Consider what your about to do Paul atreides”she began

“Silence!” Paul yelled using the voice on her.

Feyd ruatha and Paul had to battle, in order for him to claim the throne. Paul walked over to you grabbing the knife from beside you and quickly kissing your cheek, telling you it would be ok.

He stood in front of Feyd ruatha, putting the knife against his heart and head saying “may thy knife chip and shatter.

Feyd Ruatha only smiled in response before repeating “ may 𝗧𝗵𝘆 knife chip and shatter” before launching at Paul.

The two battles for what felt like hours, you heart going 200 bpm. After a minute Paul had been stabbed just under the top of his arm. He began breathing heavy, but he remained to be ok. This triggered your silent crying.

Feyd Ruatha noticed this before saying

“Is this your little wife? Perhaps I’ll take her as mine when I kill you, and I’ll kill that child inside her.” He said with disgust.

This set off Paul as he lunged forward stabbing him in the heart. Your breathed a sigh of relief.

“No one, talks about her that way.” he said before yanking the knife out of his now dead body.

A moment later Paul walked up to the emperor and his daughter.

The emperor smiled nervously “take my daughters hand you two can rule the empire” with a sly look towards you.

Your heart caught in your throat, but Paul quickly made your worries vanish with his quick reply.

“How dare you disrespect her like that. Only the woman bearing my son, will sit my side” he said before telling the Fremen to lock the away again, and that he’d kill them later.

The room erupted in cheers, Paul had done it. He was actually now emperor.

He walked up to you, blood smeared on his face as he took your face in his hands, kissing you deeply. You moaned into the kiss, hugging his body against yours.

“I was scared you’d accept the offer” you teased with a pout.

“I will only ever love you” he said laying his hand on your pregnant belly, kissing you once more.

𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹.

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

I think this will be the end of this little series and I hope you all enjoyed!!

[mydear-corinthian]

Dirty Diana || Thomas Shelby x reader

Synopsis: After the war, you and Tommy were separated leaving you in London alone with no money at all. Pairing: Thomas Shelby x reader , Tommy Shelby x reader Warnings: SMUT +18, mentions of prostitution & misogynist, p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk Notes: I saw this Dirty Diana edit of Tommy Shelby & Diana Mitford so why not do a fic about MJ's song?? I'm so happy that Dirty Diana is getting popular and getting the hype that it deserves !! This fic is terribly written and rushed :c Click here to see the MAIN MASTERLIST Click here to see the PEAKY BLINDERS MASTERLIST Click here to see the CILLIAN MURPHY MASTERLIST

Tommy and you were together before the war. His family happily accepted you and eventually treat you as one.

Unfortunately, you two parted ways following the battle. While you were stuck in London trying to become a banker, he was back in his hometown.

As a woman, landing a career like that hasn't been normalized yet. Often, men claim that it was a "man's job" exclusively. You met all the standards perfectly, but in the end, you were not hired. You were left with nothing as a result. No family, no home, and no money.

That's when you started working as a prostitute, something you never thought you would do. It was your last option since you could no longer survive without money. Given that you were making far more money at the job, you cannot complain about it. Constantly receiving enormous sums of shillings in a single night.

You decided to change your name, Diana.

Every night you wait on the busy streets of London for customers. Bending over their vehicle, seducing them.

It wasn't easy and it will never be easy to be working in this line of work. You've been sleeping with young, old, single, married, or even widowed men for money.

It was the usual night. Waiting for new customers as you stood on the busy streets outside of a hotel. Your black dress perfectly traced your curves, a white shoulder fur covered your elbows.

You finally saw a car stopping in front of you. A man wearing a neat navy suit, a newsboy hat decorated his hair, a cigarette burning between his lips.

Due to his hat, you cannot fully see who he was, only his mouth. You walked seductively towards the man's car, bending over the window. "Sir, I have to go home 'cause I'm so tired you see..?" you ask, pretending to be exhausted. "I hate sleeping alone, why don't you take me?" He took a bill out of his pockets and showed it to you. "My place. The hotel." he plainly said.

Seeing the large amount of bill made your eyes widened. Never in your job had you encountered a man giving you this big amount of money for one night.

"Well, I'll see what I can do with that, sir," he exited the vehicle, walking towards the hotel as you followed him. The anonymous man was walking in front of you so you cannot see his face.

You couldn't shake the thought of Tommy, no matter how many men you slept with. You still have feelings for him. You was hoping he could find you and look for you. Your first love was and is him. He was everything to you. It's not that you two split up; rather, it was more that you stopped seeing one another, no goodbye's or hello's after the war. You believed that his 'breakup' was final. that he had already had enough of your relationship. While a part of you believes he is better off without you, the other half of you longs to visit him in Birmingham. That he's already forgotten you.

The both of you were already inside his luxurious hotel room. It wasn't really that tidy but it was manageable.

The anonymous man finally removed his hat, showing his full face at you. As soon as you saw him, your eyes widened and your heart sank.

"Tommy?" you shockingly asked.

"(Y/n)." he greeted plainly.

"How did you- How did you found me?"

He actually haven't moved on from you too. Tommy tried to marry someone for you to leave his mind but that didn't worked for him as well. He just doesn't feel the same feeling that he was with his current wife than you. He wants to relive that feeling and he is hoping that he will be with you again.

"I searched for you. I searched every spot in Birmingham and you weren't there. And so I found you here. In London," he said. "And I know about your job, Diana."

His deep and sultry voice always gets you. Having the sudden desire to take him, make you his, and just be with him.

"How about you stay with me, tonight?" he asked. 

"Oh Tommy, I'm all yours," you answered. Your lips meeting his, passionately tasting him. Tommy's hands roamed all around your small back, allowing the kiss to get deeper and deeper.

He suddenly stopped, pulling his face away. "My wife is at home tonight, she's probably worried tonight. I haven't told her I'm alright." he sighed, walking up to the telephone on the desk just beside the door. He rolled the numbers before speaking. 

Before he said something again, you heard a woman's voice on the telephone, screaming at him. Tommy's wife was mad.

Suddenly, you grabbed the telephone, hearing the voice of his wife. The speaker was on your ear, "He's not coming back, he's sleeping with me,"

You dropped the telephone harshly, smiling at him. "Are you not worried she'll leave you?" you asked, your fingers tapping his chest seductively. Tommy's lips found yours again. The kiss is turning harshly and messier. "It's alright, she was using me for money anyways," he said in between kisses. "And Polly didn't approved my relationship with her but we got married anyway,"

"God, I've been waiting for you," your hands found its way to his hair, crumpling it as you felt his tongue explore your mouth. You moaned in between kisses, eager for more. 

You pushed him into the king-sized bed's soft mattress. You unbutton your wrinkled shirt while leaving your bra on as you crawl from his legs to his hips. He showed how hard he was by the way his pants were rising. Tommy's breath hitched, his skin heats up.

"Where have you been, my darling?" he breathly asked, cupping your cheeks once again to examine your face, processing what is happening right now. You're back. You're here. 

Slowly, your hips rocked on his boner, the friction making your eyes roll. Tommy swallowed hard, feeling the sensation that's happening. "I've missed you, Tom," 

You continued to stroke the hard swell beneath his pants with a look of enticing eagerness, every stroke a whispered promise of something more. You carefully and slowly removed his belt buckle, the metal clasp giving way to your touch with a gentle click. With careful care, your fingertips traced the fabric of his pants, revealing the shapes of his buried need as you undid each button. Gentle yet focused.

A rush of electricity shot through Tommy as her hands discovered his shaft, igniting every nerve ending with a burning passion. You moved his cock up and down with such delicate strokes; it was a rhythmic dance that left him panting, his chest rising and falling in time with your motions.

"Oh god, you're so good at this," he praised. 

Your touch was like a kiss from heaven; it sent electric sparks of need shooting through him, burning an inferno of desire. His breath caught in his throat with every stroke, the melody of pleasure surrounding him so intensely that he was unable to resist, his moans echoing at the limits of his arousal.

He finally came, his white seed spurted all over the mattress and your hands, staining them You chuckled. 

Suddenly, Tommy switched positions, he's now on top of you. "You think we're done?" he asked, his fingers touched your clit, sending shivers all around your body due to the sudden touch. 

"Oh god!" you moaned. 

His fingertips tracing passionate patterns over the fabric that covered your aching core, your back arched in ecstasy as he increased his speed driven by an early desire. Your body trembled with anticipation with every round move, a burning desire that cried out to be let out. Time appeared to stop still as his touch danced over you in the heat of passion, each movement an ode to the unbearable depths of his desire.

You moaned out loud, feeling your orgasm coming. "Tom - I'm gonna .. oh god!"

His movements stopped unexpectedly, leaving you on the verge of euphoria and desperate for release. A line appeared on your forehead as a wave of opposing emotions passed over you, your need pounding against the limits his seductive pause forced.

"Ah, not yet," his husky voiced rang to your ears.

Tommy removed your underwear, showing how wet you were from him fingering you. He aligned his shaft in front of your cunt before you fully took him, making you moan. 

You felt full just from his cock. His warm cock filled you, making him push in even further. Your eyes closed, your head rolling back. 

"So fucking tight," he exhaled deeply. His rough hands gripped your hips making him pound in to you harshly, hitting your sensitive spots all over and over. 

"No one ever pleasured you this good huh?" 

Sweat was streaming down his strained brow, reflecting the fever that was pumping through his body. The air in his hotel room pumped with the sound of your lewd moans and his sultry groans, echoes swirling passionately together and filling the room with a euphoric atmosphere.

His trusts became faster and harsher. His and your skin slapped together, earning a loud sound. 

You felt your orgasm coming up again making you moan louder, seeing nothing but starts and feel like you've been drugged by the most pleasurable medicine there is out there. You clenched on his cock, indicating that you were close. 

"Tommy, I'm gonna cum," 

"Yeah? Cum then, love," he demanded.

You both reached the your high of ecstasy with a few last, powerful thrusts, your bodies combining in a melody of pleasure. During that moment of explosive release, when your senses were overwhelmed by a rush of sensations, you felt him spill out his essence into you, filling you to the overflowing limit with his ecstatic warmth. Every muscle clenched with fine pleasure as your climax came over you in waves of joy, your combined passion setting off an inferno of desire that swallowed you both completely.

Tommy pulled out before dropping his body beside you, panting hard. 

"Come back to me," he whispered. 

"Oh Tommy. I never left you."

[pinejayy]

╰➤ Lady Time

paring: nami x f!strawhat reader x robin

summary: it’s a peaceful day for the strawhat pirates, and sanji decides to make the crew a huge meal. while the crew is eating their meal the girls are having their own fun.

warning: threesome, teasing, dirty talking,, making out, nipple play, fingering (for you and nami) ,, masturbation (robin’s part) ,, oral (robin receiving) ,, sanji at the end walking in (getting a bloody nose)

✦•·················• 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃!! •·················•✦

Finally a peaceful day for the Strawhat Pirates, it seemed like ages since they’ve gotten a peaceful day. So Sanji decided to make the crew a special meal, all the sweet treats and meats you could think about. Luffy was the most excited one, he was constantly on top of Sanji, demanding for food.

“FOOD! I WANT FOOD! YOUR CAPTAIN DEMANDS FOOD!” Luffy yelled at Sanji and the poor cook was getting annoyed. “Calm down Luffy! You have to wait like the rest of the crew!”

There yelling was heard across the Sunny, and you and girls were relaxing and sun bathing on the deck. “Hmm the Captain seems very excited for the meal Sanji is preparing.” Robin spoke up, which both of Nami and You looked at her.

Nami couldn’t help but scoff. “Yeah! That idiot is ruining our peace and quiet. I would prefer to relax in our room. Since someone where is yelling like an idiot!”

And you couldn’t help but nod in agreement. “Yeah..it’s hard relaxing while both of them are yelling.” You say and look at both ladies and nod. “Yeah let’s go relax somewhere more private.”

And with that all three of you stood up and followed each other to the girls cabin. And once you guys made it to the room you lay on the bed and sigh, and Nami laid besides you. Which left Robin standing there, watching both of you. You really were enjoying yourself in the sun, the one time you guys were able to relax Luffy was of course yelling and was making it hard to fully relax. But at least you can spend some quality girl time with Robin and Nami.

In reality you ha didn’t notice how tense you were until Robin pointed it out. “Hey, are you feeling okay Y/N? You seem really tense?” She said and sat besides you. And she eyed both you and Nami.

“Yeah, it’s been weeks since we’ve gotten a day to ourselves. You know with the constant battles and also Marines up our asses. I’m just a little worked up…” You say, rubbing your eyes. “I could use a release..”

“Yeah tell me about it! I could use one too!” Nami chimed in.

This quickly caught Robins attention and she couldn’t help but smirk slightly. “You know there’s a good way to help each other out…it seems like we all need a good release. And let’s be honest we don’t know when is the next time we’ll have time for something like this. Or the next time we’ll have a peaceful moment to ourselves.”

“What are you talking about Robin?” Nami spoke up and she opens her eyes and she eyed her. “Are you implying we sleep with one of the guys? Because I’m not doing that! That’s gross!!”

“Oh, no! Of course not. And as I said. There’s a good way to help each other out.”

“I still don’t get it.” You say. And Robin couldn’t help chuckle slightly and she walked towards the bed and she sat on the edge. "Why don’t I show you instead.”

And before you could even reply, two slim arms appeared between your legs. Your cheeks turn slightly red as her actions. “I mean like this, let’s be honest ladies. We’re all ladies here, so we’ll know each other’s bodies best and know what we want exactly.” She said, and you couldn’t help but mentally agree with her. But still, these two were your best friends. Sleeping with them would just make things complicated.

“So you’re suggesting a threesome?” Nami spoke up before you could. And Robin nodded. “Indeed.”

“Well…you are right…” Nami sighed out, seemingly thinking to herself. “And this wouldn’t affect our friendship?” To which Robin shook her head. “No, in fact it might bring us closer.”

To which you sigh in relief, that’s the last thing you wanted. A ruined friendship. “I’m in, only if you two agree.”

“Heh..I was the one who suggested the idea, so Nami?” Robin chuckles and eyes the red head. And Nami pouts slightly and she nods. “Yes..I need it.”

Robin wasted no time, she leans in and captures your lips against hers. Both Robin and you shared a deep kiss, you couldn’t help but against her lips and she wasted no time to slide her tongue between your lips and in your mouth. Exploring new territory, while the two arms were still holding your legs apart. Both lips moving against each other, the prefect pace.

As you guys were deep into the kiss, Nami couldn’t help but grope her chest through her bikini. Sighing softly at the sight.

After what seemed forever she finally pulled away from your lips, panting slightly. Nipping your bottom lip before smirking at your reaction. “You know, I’m quite fond of your blush, I’m wondering what else makes you blush.”

You didn’t realize you were blushing until she told you. Making you grumble. And the two arms that were around your legs disappeared.

“Okay my turn. Thank you very much.” Nami said and she sat in front of you and she wasted no time. Grabbing your face and her lips came crashing against yours. Taking your mouth to a heated kiss. Nami licks your bottom lip, asking for permission. And you opened your mouth. Granting her access, and she slides her tongue in and explores the most inside of your mouth. Both tongues fighting for dominance.

Robin watched both of you. A hint of mischief in her eyes. “What a sight. Beautiful sight.” She chuckles, and both of you and Nami pull away. A red tint across your guys faces. “But how about I make things a little more interesting, Nami would you please lay besides Y/N.”

Nami huffs and laid besides you, and arms sprouted against your body and Nami’s. The arms quickly began to peal off the swim wears you guys had on. You weren’t ashamed of your body or embarrassed by it. Considering you’ve guys have seen each other naked before.

So both of you guys were laying there naked, arms around your guys body. The arms slowly and gently roamed around your guys bodies. And you couldn’t help but relax slightly.

The arms kept roaming around. Feeling every curve you guys had, squeezing your guys boobs. Making you both moan at the touch. And Robin couldn’t help but smirk to herself, she was slowly stripping off her swimwear as well, watching as the arms were feeling your guys bodies. Both so different and both so beautiful.

“Come on ladies, open those beautiful legs of yours. I’m sure my hands will give you a lovely treat.”

And both of you wasted no time, spreading your legs. Exposing yourself to Robin. “Wow, already so wet. Both of you.” She giggled slightly, and she licks her lips. Her hands running across her own body, playing with her own nipples.

The hands that were across your body and Nami’s body were now in your guys inner thighs. Both of you were needy. And fingers slowly trace against your inner thighs.

Both moaning at her touch. “I must say your devil fruit is quite useful.”

Robin smirks as she continues to play with her own nipples. And without warning there was a finger rubbing your clit, slow and steady movements. The prefect pace…Making you bite your lip. Holding back your moan.

“Oh…that’s prefect…” You moan softly… and you heard Nami’s soft moans too, seems like her clit was getting the same treatment as yours.

“You tell me…the past guys I’ve had are terrible at finding the clit..” Nami spoke up. She moans softly, the fingers kept moving in small circles against her clit.

Which made Robin laugh slightly. “Hm. I’m aware and if they do find it. They don’t know what to do with it.”

You couldn’t help but giggle through your moans. The finger kept moving against your clit. “Mmm…ah…yeah…and if they do find it. They think that going fast and hard is good..”

Robin fingers kept the prefect pace against your guys clits, and she couldn’t help moan feel the heat between her legs grow more at the slight. The way you were moaning. And Robin slowly brings her finger to lips and gives her middle finger a long and slow lick before rubbing her own clit. Moaning under her breath. Rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves sent a shiver down her spine.

The room was filled with soft moans and whimpers.

“Oh…Robin…” You whimper softly, feeling your stomach tighten up. “I’m so close..” “Me too…it feels so good..”

And suddenly the fingers and arms that were around your body and Nami’s disappeared making you both groan. Before any of you could speak up Robin spoke up. “Please…finish each other off…I need to see it.” She moans out, rubbing her clit faster. Too lost in her own pleasure.

Both you and Nami looked at each other and were immediately In each other’s arms. In a deep kiss, tongues fighting for dominance. Nami’s hands were all over your body, feelings your curves. Giving your boobs a harsh squeeze. Her fingers made their way to your wetness between your thighs. She wasted no time, inserting two fingers inside of you. Moving them slowly , making you moan against her lips. “Nami…”

“That’s right…keep moaning my name.. please..” She practically begged out. Moving her fingers in and out. And before she could speak up again your hands were between her legs..also inserting two fingers inside of her. Feeling her walls clench around your fingers. “God…feels so good…”

Both of you were lost in your own pleasure that Robin was watching both of you. Watching both of your guys tongues wrap around each other, the way you guys were fingering each other. It was a beautiful slight.

Robin moans softly, rubbing her own clit while she pinches her own nipples.

Moaning against Nami’s lips, you pulled away to catch your own breath. And she was panting slightly. A blush spread across her face. You pick up the pace with your fingers and Nami quickly copied your pace.

Both moaning “Fuck…”

This went on for awhile, and Nami was hitting every spot you craved for…you felt her walls clench around your fingers and you gasp. Picking up the pace, and curling your fingers. Hitting her G-Spot. She quickly covers her mouth to prevent herself from being loud. And after a few minutes she was a moaning mess against her own hand. Gushing all over your fingers, giving her a few more thrusts before pulling your fingers out and bringing them against your own lips. Sucking on her sweet juices. “Mmm so good…”

And Nami smirks, and her fingers were still inside of you and her pace picked up, making a scissoring motion inside of you. Curling her fingers to hit your G-Spot. And she kept abusing that prefect spot making you reach your own climax. And she hums softly and slowly she pulls her fingers out and licks off the juices. “Mm even better.”

Both of you were catching your breath and a soft moan caught your attention, both you and Nami turn to Robin and she was lost in her own thoughts…she was watching both of you as was fingering herself. She had her head thrown back, moaning at her own touch. You and Nami look at each other and smirk.

You guys move towards Robin, she really seemed lost in her own pleasure that she didn’t notice either of you. And with a quick motion Nami quickly pinned her shoulders down against the bed. Making her gasp out. “Nami…” She mumbled softly, and Nami quickly kissed her. Robin couldn’t help but moan into the kiss. Getting lost into the kiss. While you couldn’t help but lick your lips. Making your way down to her thighs, spreading her legs open, exposing her pussy to you.

You couldn’t help but place small kisses against her inner thighs, making her moan against Nami’s lips. Your tongue tracing small circles against her skin and close to her sensitive area.

Leaning in, giving a small lick across her folds. Tasting her, moaning softly. “Mm Robin…can’t wait to eat your pretty pussy.”

Before fully diving into her folds, and eating her out as if it was your last meal. And Robin was a moaning and whimpering mess against Nami’s lips. While Nami was sharing a deep kiss with her she pulls away to look at her, before leaning in towards her neck. Placing sloppy kisses against her neck. Nami’s fingers found their way to Robin’s nipples and gave them a pinch, playing with them.

As both Nami and Robin were deep in their moment, you were lost in your own world. Your mouth moving against her pussy, taking in all her juices she was leaking out. Pulling away slightly, placing small love bites across her inner thighs. Making her moan.

Looking at her pussy, you couldn’t help but spread her folds slightly and lean in to blow slightly on her clit making her shiver. “Mm seems like you’re enjoying yourself.”

To which she just moan softly, making you giggle. Before taking her clit between your lips and sucking on it gently.

The room was filled with moans from all three of you, and after awhile Robins moans had gotten louder which meant she was close to you bring a finger to her clit and rub circles and your mouth moves her to needy hole and you couldn’t help but get a better taste at her. Shoving your tongue in her hole, and with the sensation of your tongue against her and your finger was making her legs shaking in pleasure.

And suddenly she moans loudly, to which Nami quickly covered her mouth with her hand. “Shh they might hear us.” She teased softly. Kissing her earlobe.

Robin reached her climax and she was a panting mess, you moan at her taste. Licking up all her juices, sitting up and licking your lips as you watch both woman.

“Hey I wanna have a taste too.” Nami said and she grabs your face and smashes her lips against yours. Her tongue already sliding into your mouth.

And Robin quickly sat besides you guys and she spoke up. “I wouldn’t be opposed to taste myself as well.” She said and scoots in. And all three of you shared a three way kiss, all three tongues tasting each other. You guys were so lost into the kiss that you didn’t hear the door knock.

“Hey! Ladies! Are you guys okay? The food is ready! You guys aren’t answering the DOOR!!!”

That snapped all three of you guys into reality, pulling away from the kiss. And your guys eye landed on Sanji..

Sanji stood there, he was knocking before walking in and he wasn’t expecting to see all three of you naked! AND ESPECIALLY HAVING A MAKEOUT SESSION! He couldn’t help but breath heavy. And suddenly his nose started to bleed…like there was no tomorrow.

Making Nami groan “Oh! Great you ruined our fun you creep!” She yelled out and Sanji was a giggling mess and Nami walks towards him and she shoves him out of the room. And he fell backwards onto the floor and he was a blushing and bloody mess, before slamming the door. “Oh…My…ladies…” He giggles.

You shake your head. “So should we change.” And Robin nodded. “It seems like the best idea, I suggest we lock the door for the next time.”

And both you and Nami nodded “Sounds like a good idea.”

Getting all dressed up, you guys heard the rest of the crews voices behind the door.

“SANJI I WANT FOOD NOW! GET UP! I’M HUNGRY!Luffy yelled out.

“OMG SANJI WHAT HAPPENED! YOU’RE BLEEDING ALOT!” Chopper cried out.

“Sanji what did you?! Did you see panties! Tell me! What color were they?’” Brook said.

While Sanji was giggling and bleeding on the floor, while the three of you guys were giggling behind the door.

tagging: @genderless-naper ,, @oatmealmika ,, @purplegemadventures // sorry about the long wait!! hope you guys enjoy!! uwu

[chbvalentine]

movie quotes ᢉ𐭩

movie / book quotes that i think represent the hoo boys (percy , leo , jason , and frank) x reader

warning !! toa spoilers !!

percy-

“so it’s not gonna be easy. it’s gonna be really hard. we’re gonna have to work at this every day, but i want to do that because i want you. i want all of you, forever, you and me, every day.” (the notebook, 2004)

having a relationship with a son of the big three is never easy, especially if it’s with percy jackson. he’s constantly fighting for his life and battling to save the whole freakin’ world. it’s tough for him to balance love life and demigod priorities, but he doesn’t care. he would let the world burn to be in a relationship with you, to see your smile every morning, to grow old and raise your kids. percy loves you more than anything, and he’d be dammed to give you up because of some dumb prophecies.

leo-

“i loved her to the point of invention.” (the clean house, 2004)

leo would build anything for you, no matter how blistered his hands got or how sleep deprived he grew. if you mentioned even one minor inconvenience, he’d rush down to bunker 9 until he could present you with a solution. you complain about not being able to listen to music in the shower? boom. leo’s emerging from the darkness of his workshop hours later with waterproof headphones in his hands.

jason-

"death cannot stop true love. all it can do is delay it for a while." (the princess bride, 1987)

sigh 😕.

does this one even need an explanation? when jason died, you were brutally crushed. he had been your first true love, your rock, the peanut butter to your jelly. he was everything, and just like that he was nothing. but of course, the pain eventually faded. instead of crying every time lightning struck, it became a nice reminder that he was probably prancing around in elysium, watching over you and preparing until he could see you again. after all, suffering the pain of a life without him was nothing compared to the joy of an eternity with him.

frank-

"i love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you're looking at me like I'm nuts. i love that after i spend the day with you, i can still smell your perfume on my clothes. and i love that you are the last person i want to talk to before i go to sleep at night." (when harry met sally, 1989)

frank notices every single little thing about you. he’s been helplessly in love with you since before you even started dating. every time you mention something you love, whether it be a color or a cute stuffed animal, he’s taking mental notes (and sometimes physical notes so he doesn’t forget). he can’t go to the lake without thinking of the time you and him swam until your muscles gave out, and gods forbid someone else wears your signature scent. you consumed his every waking thought, and he couldn’t imagine it any other way.

[tesalicious2]

Why you don't prank the Guard commanders

Since they are almost constantly tired and at the end of their rope, anything could set them over the edge and no one wants that

not only that but they will usually react very strongly because of their extenuating circumstances and it is often blown out of proportions

HOWEVER, the other battalions don't know that and just want to help their brothers have fun! what's wrong with that

THIRE:

Thire got off a three day mission with General Yoda that ends up with Thire covered in some giant monsters stomach fluids and snot

He had to sit in it for a ten hour ride back and is humilated, with Yoda attempting to comfort him which only makes it worse

On his way back to the HQ, some troopers from the 104th decided to hit a guard with fake slime, a funny little prank

When Thire is at the end of his rope, he goes for violence

Thire waltzes into the mess, calls out whoever pranked him, and proceeded to dress them down, chew them up, and spit them out in front of everyone in the entire mess (made up of a few battalions and some Padawan Commanders)

It boiled down to 'you morons, i will kill you, you tiny roaches are nothing to me and i will throw you in the trash compactor like the disgusting garbage you are' with much more colorful and degrading language thrown in

Many now fear Thire and Wolffe outright refuses to work with the man out of fear

STONE:

Stone had just stopped three prison riots, captured two escapees from said riots, updated the entire security system, and hadn't slept because of the previous items for four days

Some men from Kit Fisto's SCUBA battalion thought it would be funny to hide some of Stone's stuff that was in his office (ie, datapads, pens, etc) and moved his stuff three inches to any side

Stone, who usually just jumped onto the coach in his office with the lights off, missed the middle and went to far up and smacked his nose on the wooden arm of the couch and cracked a tooth

This was not a fun way to cap the last four days

He found the troopers and filled their SCUBA tubes with spiders for them to find when they shipped out. Too bad the spiders crawled onto their faces on the ship and not in the water :(

THORN:

Thorn had been assissting senators for three full days with only 5 hours of sleep while standing throughout meetings

He had been ready to sleep and was heading to his last meeting with General Kenobi and some of his troopers present

Wooley and Longshot decided to lighten the mood by setting their voice coders to a different language and telling him he was going crazy

They also removed the nonslip pads from the couch and it slid out from underneath him

This may not have been bad at all but after three days, every little thing is annoying as shit and exhausting

After that meeting, Thorn decides to take revenge

Thorn is a believer in you get what you give so he does something harmless

relatively harmless

He sneaks onto the 212th barracks on the ship and places a speaker into the vents of the barracks, above Wooley and Longshots bunks (as close as he could get, the sound reverbs so everyone is pretty mad about this prank)

Every so often, in random intervals (no more than 4 hours, no less than 1 hours) a beep would sound, not too loud but loud enough to be annoying after 2 days

At night, it gets louder and more frequent and quieter during the day

Many troopers lose sleep over finding the thing (Thorn literally unscrewed wall panels to hide it), its been 3 weeks and they arrive at their new battle field in a week

Four days before their arrival, as the speaker is about to die, in the middle of the night, the speaker goes to full volume and shouts 'THIS IS COMMANDER THORN. I MAY BE THE CAUSE OF YOUR SLEEPLESSNESS BUT LONGSHOT AND WOOLEY STARTED THIS. I WILL DO IT AGAIN ASSHOLES. THE SPEAKER IS GOING TO DIE SO ENJOY YOUR *TEMPORARY* FREEDOM. HAHHAHAHAHAH-' and then the speaker dies (Thorn hacked the cameras and enjoys playing the screaming arguments and shouts at the speaker during rough days)

Longshot and Wooley never hear the end of it

FOX:

Fox had been going through hell the entire week and he was ready to kill someone, even though his shift wasn't over yet.

Jesse, Fives, and Hardcase had decided to help Fox lighten up by shooting him with silly string throughout the day, switching armor with blank armor to keep hidden

Fox was paranoid and had to be sedated. He eventually tracked down the three and had his revenge not through their own annoyance

At first, he replaced their weapons with modified silly guns that quickly ended, leading them to believe they were free (the whole revenge lasted an hour ish as the three enjoyed playing with the silly string)

Unknown to them, Rex's entire room had been filled with silly string, his blasters, the padding in his matress, the drawers in his dress, the hair wash was liquid silly string, the soap was frozen strong, his pillow, his chair was broken then 'welded' back together with silly string and fell apart when he sat on it, etc.

He kept finding it and it lasted for days, the moment he thought it was over, more string came up. He was paranoid, everything was silly string

When he finally complained to the command chat, Fox told him that Jesse, Hardcase, and Fives caused it and that he overheard them planning it

When Rex punished them, they said they never did anything with silly string but many others saw them spraying each other with the silly string FOX pranked them with so everyone assumed they were messing with the leftovers from Rex's prank. Not only that but they weren't quiet about pranking Fox so everyone thought he was the warm up for Rex.

No matter what they said, Rex didn't believe a word and they were stuck on latrine duty for a whole month

When Rex found out about Fox getting pranked as well, Rex let them get punished by him too

Fox made them clean out all the massiff kennels and play areas, cleaning any stains from the puppies and getting used for bite practice by the adults everyday for their next leave.

Fox came by and watched them everyday, laughing at their misery

HOUND:

Hound loves pranks and jokes and will happily engage and laugh at them

however, the timing has to be right and most don't get that part (only the other ARF troopers know)

Some troopers from the 41st took his bed sheets and pillows and blankets and towels after some of his troopers and Hound ended a four hour chase through the sewers (they didn't know about the chase).

Hound normally would've thought this was hilarious but after spending two hours covered in sewage looking for towels around HQ just to shower, he was pretty mad

After cleaning up and ready for bed, he snuck into the 41st barracks and woke them up with a growling, snarling grizzer leaning over their face and a hand over their mouth.

He whispered, 'don't scream, you touch my shit again, I will end you and everyone you love.'

Rinse and repeat then he sneaks away

[sanyu-thewitch05]

F! Yuu’s Dad in Twst Wonderland pt.4

Pt. 5 Pt.6

It would’ve been so easy if you could keep living your life in Twst the same way

But unfortunately the constant craziness and stress from this place has resulted in something you thought you’d never experience unless Malleus got you pregnant

You haven’t had your period since Riddle’s overblot

Now of course you didn’t tell your father because you physically felt fine

But then after Book 5, you started to relax.

And that was your first mistake because now your body is seeking a reckoning for delaying natural processes for months.

🦀: Yuu, are you ok? I just heard you throwing up.

🦐: *vomiting noises*

🦀: I’ll get a bowl for you to throw up in.

🦐: Sorry, I disturbed your sleep.

🦀: It’s ok, baby. Just get some sleep.

When you wake up in the morning, you’re all better.

You go to school and your beastmen friends are clingy.

🐺: I smell blood.

🦐:…ok…I’m, on my period.

Then things get a bit more crazy, when it’s announced a school transfer program to The City of Flowers to attend its arcane college Noble Bell College.

You, your father, Grim, Malleus and the others were chosen to attend as well.

Your father meets Rollo and he’s immediately disturbed at the sight of him.

🦀: Stay near me, Yuu. He doesn’t look right.

Rollo just creeps him out the entire time.

He’s not vibing with Rollo constantly snuffing that handkerchief.

It just creeps him out. Everything about that boy creeps him out.

It all goes well until the moment in the auditorium.

The flowers show up and people start going down.

Your father runs to grab you as a flower approaches you as you hold Grim.

Malleus saves you instead of your father.

🦀: Thank you.

Your father holds you as chaos unfolds. Then, Rollo sends your NRC friends down the out and underneath the bridge.

🦀: Yuu, are you ok?

🦐: I’m ok.

The whole time the NRC crew are trying to find a way to fix this, your father is trying to stay calm and find a way out of this.

After the final battle, your father really wants to get out of Twisted Wonderland.

Especially after Rollo’s proposal to you concerning your NRC friends.

🥐: So please, come to me if those at NRC are bothering you too much and I’ll gladly lambast them.

🦐:….😃😀…ok

🦀: Thank you, for the nice proposal of protection, we’ll consider it.

🦀:*whispering to Yuu* Come on, we can still sneak out through the back and leave.

When they’re back at NRC, your father has a secret meeting with Mozus.

🦀: Mozus, you understand this better than anyone else, and in sure if your daughters were in the same position you’d do the same. So please, is there anywhere else on this island where we can stay where weird people will not be?

🐈: I would try RSA. I’ll handle everything in the morning. You just leave and go before anyone notices you’re gone.

And that night, your dad takes you in your sleep to RSA.

[the-bi-space-ace]

Writing Echo & the effects of Skako Minor

Discussions of trauma, CPTSD, and PTSD.

This will be a lot of personal opinion so take it with a grain of salt but I wanted to touch on writing Echo as someone who has CPTSD. Personally, I think after what he experienced on Skako Minor Echo would have CPTSD. The very basic thing you need to know is that PTSD and CPTSD are two different things. Symptoms overlap, they often get lumped together, but there are differences. From what I have learned from therapy and doctors PTSD happens from a single traumatizing event. Something happened, an accident, violence, etc. and it has stuck with you. CPTSD occurs when someone has multiple traumatizing events throughout their life that all compound. So if you grew up in an abusive household, experienced outside violence, and had several life altering events, that would be the perfect breeding ground for CPTSD. It is not one event. CPTSD comes from the fact that it is multiple things on top of each other, all working together to make your PTSD complex in nature since it comes from a web of things instead of one event.

After Skako I think Echo would suffer from CPTSD mainly because he has experienced several traumatizing events over and over again. The explosion, being tortured, being experimented on over and over again, and finding out he has been used as a weapon, along with his injuries sustained in the battle of Anaxes all compile together. This is what I base this off of.

With that in mind I wanted to talk a little bit about some symptoms and how this could translate to Echo as a character.

One can experience shaking (imagine Crosshair early season 3), paranoia, anxiety, and difficulty sleeping. I have seen Echo portrayed often with nightmares, which I think is a great route to go, however I want to offer up other ways you can show his difficulty living with CPTSD. Physical symptoms are one thing and definitely make life more difficult but what about the mental ones?

One challenge can be constantly feeling like the other shoe is going to drop. There can be waves of feeling okay and stable and then other periods of constant vigilance and anxiety. When things are good you could think ‘how much longer until it is all gone? How long do I deserve safety and happiness?’ These fears are often completely unrealistic but your brain cannot determine that in the moment.

I think Echo could struggle with this. I want to imagine that this is part (not all) of the reason he wants to badly to do more and part of why he does not really want to retire. He doesn’t understand safety anymore. He’s still more comfortable in chaos and vigilance. Safety would likely feel unsafe to him. At least, for a while. Truthfully, survivors guilt and his own loyalty and personality are all wrapped up in there too but imagine if there was another layer.

What if he is clinging so desperately to helping because tomorrow he could be swept away again. Or he won’t be able to save anyone. Or somehow Tambor will catch up with him. Or maybe, just maybe, he becomes the algorithm again. He snaps right back into it mid mission. He’s taken over and can’t be saved. He attacks his loved ones. He can’t help it. He could hurt them. What if he hurts them! Safety may frighten him so deeply he can’t even begin to think about it. His brain won’t let him. It won’t let him cling to that thought because it can’t be real it will be danger. It has to be.

It doesn’t have to be rational because CPTSD is not rational. Your brain and body are trying to protect you. It has learned that you are in danger and it is not comfortable with safety anymore. It will protect you even if you are perfectly safe. Even if that means telling you lies.

And none of this makes him weak. He’s confident in his skills, he’s a force to be reckoned with. He’s lethal and loyal and kind hearted and not at all weak. His strength and compassion are things to look up to. I love Echo. He’s dedicated to saving his loved ones, he’s been through so much, and he has never ever given up despite the challenges. I think he is wonderful and such a rich character for storytelling. It certainly isn’t necessary to include this when writing Echo but if you’re looking for other ways for his trauma to manifest this may be an interesting route to explore.

have the best gif of Echo ever as a treat for reading this far

[shineonyoucrazyyandere]

Hello, I did not want to disturb but I wanted to know how the stands of Bucci-Gang + Trish and Diavolo would behave in front of their beloved?Since they are manifestations of his soul, they would also show his Yandere side, sorry if it is a lot of work and I love how you write

*just so everyone knows I keep a lot of asks and hope to eventually write them later if I really like the concept…even if it may literally take an eternity to get to them*

So since this is Yandere focused I’m going to lean on that, but you’ll get to see the expressions of obsession as I write.

Yandere Bucciarati Group + Diavolo and Trish’s stands reacting to their darling

Bruno Bucciarati

Generally speaking Sticky Fingers particularly seems to “stand guard” around you. It’s fingers sometimes float across your skin, gentle touching. But at a moments notice is quick to use its ability if Bruno even suspects you trying to escape or pull something. There are times where you feel it grab your arm and drag you closer to its master.

Leone Abbacchio

Since his stand doesn’t really have offensive capabilities, it tends to like also hanging around you. Though if Abbacchio really insists on you not leaving his side, Moody Blues will do its best to keep you still. If he decides to use his ability depending on where you’re at, it does it relatively quickly and quick to pause with precision if it’s something like seeing your face sleeping at night. Simply watching you seems to be one of its favorite things to engage in.

Guido Mista

The Sex Pistols pretty much adore you, even the troublemaking number stops being a nuisance when you’re around. If you can see them, they insist on you feeding them when mealtime comes around. They may slightly pester Mista saying you’re better at doing so simply for holding food a certain angle. He enjoys this as much as the pistols do, and even if you can’t see them and feed them they still generally cheer when you’re around. if anyone outside the gang and Mista himself, they’ll end up reacting somewhat hostile. Snide or sarcastic remarks if someone tries to romance you.

They’ll also pester Mista if he hasn’t seen you in a few days due to a job or something he had to take care of on his own.

Narancia Ghirga

Aerosmith’s flight patterns seemingly change course a bit when you’re around Narancia. Out of protective instinct, it seems to fire it’s bullets/weapons more aggressive if you’re in any sort of immediate danger. Or if Narancia is tracking, Aerosmith seems to get a quick reading on you, fast. For some reason if the stand was used casually, the way it would fly around would be akin to something at an air show. Presenting the way Narancia may be excited to be with you.

Pannacotta Fugo

Purple Haze is interestingly affected by Fugo’s obsession for you. It stops obsessing over its arms, drooling minimizing to almost nothing. It’s aggression in battle nearly quadruples, out of getting rid of anything that Fugo considers a threat. So there’s times things may or may not get out of control or on the other end of the spectrum killing something with almost unusual precision . But it settles once knowing you’re safe, this may or may not exhaust Fugo occasionally. Under the surface Purple Haze would be pleased if you came to check on Fugo out of concern.

Giorno Giovanna

Gold Experience and Giorno are pretty much in sync almost constantly. It generally likes to express certain flowers that evidently have deep romantic meanings as a gift. It’ll daze you in a heartbeat if you try to sneak off somewhere, giving way to its stand master taking care of you for a few hours. Generally it seems to enjoy kissing your hand, and occasionally turning an object into a small animal for you. It doesn’t hesitate to turn something that you own into an animal to track down either if it means being in your presence again.

Aromatherapy is another thing it seems to do with plants, especially after Giorno figures out what your likes, dislikes, (and potential allergies) are.

Requiem is basically game over for any escape attempts with a stand, and even if you’re hesitant takes some effort to try and comfort you. Caresses and touches that would be comforting in a normal context that’s not having you run in terror from a mafioso.

Diavolo

Due to his violent tendencies and tactics, King Crimson is intense in presenting Diavolo’s dark desires. It’s touches are tight and unbelievably strong, that it tends to leave bruises on your body. Erasing time is smooth and precise, inducing confusion from trying to escape Diavolo. The stand is of course as impulsive as it’s stand master, your legs are broken or are knocked out as quick as your thoughts to wander.

Trish Una

Spice Girl has some impulsive traits that King Crimson does, as much as Trish probably doesn’t want to admit it. This stands intensity shines through sitting on your lap, arms around your neck. Not caring in the slightest if you can see it or not. It gives faint phantom kisses on your cheeks, and certainly uses its abilities to keep you in place no matter the area. It tends to also enjoy having you match Trish someway, even the smallest accessory it enjoys seeing Trish put on you to coordinate. Like you and her were meant to be.

[kamisama1kiss]

Omg I saw that your requests are open, can I request Asahi Azumane fluffy please? 🥹

I love asahi sm 😭🙏 Never see enough of him when it comes to content on any platform. I Shall serve 🫡

~~~

Asahi Azumane Headcanons { The Giant Lover }

- He'd give the best hugs, with the ultimate comfort factor being 100% the same with cuddling he is like a warm blanket on two legs. He is a huger in private, no doubt that.

- Always asking if you need help with anything, let's say you're short and can't reach something he'd help with no hesitation. Would maybe tease you a little about it, but nothing too major

- Studying would never be the same, he would be the kind to not tell you the answer but help you find it yourself with guidance.

- On every date, he brings either chocolate, a little teddy, flowers, or some small candies. Which ever is your favourite, knowing it makes you smile, then it's enough for him. Truly seeing his love happy makes him the happiest man alive.

- Not into PDA, since he is already insecure, which means he doesn't want to attract any more eyes on him than needed already. Maybe a small cheek peck if he feels confident in the moment.

- He's definitely the kind of guy to admire you from afar when you are doing anything, sleeping? Yup. Playing a sport? 100%. Simply just talking to him about an interest? Is no even a answer?

- After school, it would be routine of walking to the gym together before you left to go home. It would also include a hug and a small kiss if there is time. Of course, he would get teased by Tanaka and Nishinoya all the time if they catch the duo in action.

- Oh, how he adores you. Even a blind man could see that he is head over heels for you and only you.

- Top best support system if you're going through a hard time, holding you, communicating, checking up on you constantly, and most of all, reminding you how proud of you he is. "You're doing amazing, sunshine." And "I am very proud of you, love." More alike.

- Writes poems after poems about his feelings for you, would even sometimes plant one in your locker every now and then with his favourite one.

- You feel uncomfortable in a social situation he will ask if you want to leave or he tries to distract you, keep your eyes and focus on him.

- No matter how sweet he is, we have to come to terms with the fact that he is a busy guy, but nonetheless, he tries to give you a date once every two months.

- Loves bringing you along with him to when he goes to practice or sometimes (not by choice) has you tagging along for a volleyball battle.

- He might be big and scary, but he gets anxious when his order is messed up at a restaurant. Which is why you are so very helpful and take care of it for him, he doesn't want to bother others no matter what.

- Loves you no matter how you look, as long as you've got a nice and sweet personality and treat everyone fairly he has no complaints.

- Feels like he isn't deserving of you since his insecurities bite away at him after all those Name calling and pointing. So please, he needs a lot of reassurance and reminders as well.