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theonottsbxtch · 2 months ago

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HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS | OP81

an: oscar would so be the nerd at university that NOBODY hated but i got this listening to high school sweethearts by melanie

wc: 3.4k

Oscar wasn’t known for standing out. If anything, he was the type you’d forget was in the room until someone said, “Hey, can you pass me the stapler?” Quiet, unassuming, always with a book in hand or headphones half-falling out of his ears, he drifted through university like a ghost no one was particularly scared of. That is, until he met her.

She—loud, chaotic, unapologetically strange—was the kind of person who made an entrance just by breathing. People called her insane, whispered about her after lectures, and swapped stories about her latest absurd escapades. But to Oscar, she wasn’t insane. She was magnetic.

The first time he saw her, she was sitting cross-legged on a table in the middle of the library, explaining in detail why the library’s “No Food” policy was a direct attack on her personal freedoms. The staff were too stunned to stop her. Oscar was too stunned to look away.

By the time she noticed him staring—wide-eyed, clutching his battered notebook—she smiled, sharp and knowing. “You’ve got a crush, don’t you?” she said, not a question but a declaration.

Oscar didn’t deny it. How could he? Her gaze pinned him to the spot, like she’d peeled back his layers and found the embarrassing, undeniable truth: he was completely infatuated.

“Thought so,” she said, hopping off the table with an exaggerated stretch. “Well, listen up, quiet boy. If you’re gonna have a crush on me, there are rules.”

“Rules?” he echoed, voice cracking slightly.

“For dating me,” she said casually, as though she delivered ultimatums like this every day. “And trust me, it’s not for the faint of heart. So, listen close, because I’m only saying this once.”

She held up a finger. “Rule one: You must accept that I’m a little out of my mind.”

Oscar blinked. “A little?”

“Don’t interrupt,” she snapped, but the glint in her eye softened it into something almost teasing. “Rule two: This whole thing is a waste if you can’t walk me down the finish line. I don’t do quitters.”

She was pacing now, her hands moving as she spoke, like she was building the rules out of thin air. “Rule three: Give me passion. Don’t make fun of my fashion, even if it’s ‘unconventional.’ Rule four: Give me more. And I mean more, more, more. Compliments, time, effort—whatever you’ve got, I’ll take it.”

She stopped in front of him, looking him dead in the eye. “Rule five: You can’t be scared to show me off. Hold my hand in public. Smile when people stare. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

Oscar nodded, as if it were a contract he was ready to sign.

“Rule six,” she continued, her voice dropping slightly, “if you can’t put in the work...well, I don’t know what you think this is supposed to be. And rule seven...” She paused dramatically, a slow, sharp grin spreading across her face. “If you cheat, you will die. No exaggeration.”

He laughed nervously, unsure if she was joking. Her expression didn’t budge.

“Wait, you’re serious?” he asked.

“Dead serious.” Her gaze was steady, almost unnervingly so. He felt a strange thrill run through him, a combination of terror and awe.

“Oh,” he said, his voice faint.

“And another thing,” she added, leaning closer. Her voice was a soft purr now, almost conspiratorial. “If you can’t handle the choking, the biting, the loving, the smothering—well, let’s just say you’d better leave now.”

Oscar’s heart raced. For a moment, he thought she might be messing with him. But as he studied her face, the fierce intensity in her eyes, he realised she meant every word. And instead of scaring him off, it only pulled him in deeper.

He swallowed hard, his lips parting as if to respond, but she didn’t wait for him to speak. “You up for it, quiet boy?” she asked, raising a brow. “Or are you gonna run like the rest of them?”

Oscar took a deep breath, his chest tight but his resolve steady. “I’m in,” he said, the words stronger than he expected. “All in.”

Her grin widened. “Good. Don’t disappoint me.”

And just like that, she spun on her heel and sauntered away, leaving Oscar standing there, breathless, overwhelmed, and more in love than he’d ever thought possible.

The whispers started the moment she left the room. Oscar could feel the weight of every stare, the quiet hum of disbelief settling over the students still lingering in the library. He shifted uncomfortably, gripping the strap of his bag, and glanced around. A few people smirked. Others shook their heads, muttering things he couldn’t quite make out—but he knew what they were saying.

"She’s messing with him.""He doesn’t stand a chance.""Poor guy. He’ll regret it."

Oscar didn’t care. He didn’t care that the rest of the university seemed to think she was unapproachable, untouchable. If anything, their doubt only made his resolve stronger.

Later that evening, he found himself sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at his phone. He’d spent hours trying to figure out what to text her. Every draft felt wrong—too eager, too stiff, too... boring. And if there was one thing she didn’t tolerate, it was boring.

Eventually, he settled on something simple:

“So... when do I start following the rules?”

The response came almost instantly:

“Tomorrow. Be ready by 9. Wear something cute. And bring coffee.”

Oscar stared at the message, his heart racing. He wanted to ask where they were going, but something told him she wouldn’t answer. She thrived on keeping people off balance, and he had a feeling she’d enjoy watching him squirm.

The next morning, he was at her door at 8:55, holding two cups of coffee and wearing his nicest shirt. It wasn’t much—just a navy button-up he usually saved for presentations—but he hoped it would pass the “cute” test.

She opened the door with a dramatic flair, her eyes immediately scanning him from head to toe. For a moment, Oscar thought he’d failed. But then she smiled, a slow, wicked grin that made his stomach flip.

“Not bad,” she said, grabbing one of the coffees from his hand. “You’re trainable.”

“Uh, thanks?” he said, not entirely sure if it was a compliment.

She laughed and tugged him inside, closing the door behind him. Her apartment was just as chaotic as he’d imagined—paintings leaned against the walls, half-finished projects scattered across the floor, and a neon sign above the kitchen counter that read Normal Is Overrated.

“So, what’s the plan?” he asked, trying not to trip over a stack of books on his way to the sofa.

She raised an eyebrow. “Rule two, remember? I don’t do quitters, and I don’t do guys who need their hands held. Just keep up, and maybe you’ll survive the day.”

It turned out “keeping up” was a lot harder than he’d expected.

She led him all over the city, dragging him into thrift shops and art galleries, stopping at random street performers to critique their technique, and challenging him to a karaoke battle in the middle of a bustling café. By the time they got to their final stop—a rooftop overlooking the city—Oscar was out of breath, his feet sore, and his head spinning.

“You’re not dead yet,” she said, leaning against the railing and sipping the last of her coffee.

“Barely,” he replied, collapsing onto a nearby bench.

She laughed, a real, genuine laugh that softened her sharp edges for just a moment. “Not bad for day one, quiet boy. But you’ve got a long way to go.”

Oscar looked up at her, the wind catching her hair and the glow of the city lights reflecting in her eyes. She was intense, unpredictable, and completely overwhelming—but as she turned to look at him, a hint of curiosity in her expression, he felt something settle in his chest.

“I’m ready,” he said, surprising himself with how much he meant it. “Whatever it takes, I’m in.”

She tilted her head, studying him like she couldn’t quite figure him out. “You’re weird,” she said finally. “I think I like that.”

And just like that, she turned and started walking away.

“Wait, where are you going?” he called after her.

“Home,” she said over her shoulder. “You’ll text me tomorrow. Same time. Different rules.”

Oscar stayed on the rooftop for a while after she left, the cool breeze clearing his head. He had no idea what he’d just signed up for. But as he watched her disappear into the crowd below, he realised one thing for certain: there was no turning back now.

It had been almost a week of him following her around town doing insane things with her, everytime he did it, he fell for her more than before.

The café buzzed with its usual morning chaos—coffee machines hissing, chairs scraping against the floor, and students chattering as they rushed to squeeze in breakfast before class. Oscar had been there for five minutes, awkwardly lingering at a corner table, when he spotted her weaving through the crowd.

She didn’t walk so much as command the space around her. Her oversized sweater draped lazily over her shoulders, and her combat boots stomped just loud enough to draw attention. In one hand, she clutched her ever-present carton of orange juice.

Oscar’s heart gave its now-familiar leap at the sight of her.

She didn’t smile when she saw him—she rarely did in public—but the slight tilt of her head was enough for him. She slid into the seat next to him, her elbow bumping his in a way that felt oddly reassuring.

And then he showed up.

“Morning, Oscar.”

Oscar tensed instinctively at the voice. Charles. The kind of guy who wore his popularity like a crown and acted like it gave him the right to sit wherever he wanted. Unfortunately, today, that “wherever” was the empty chair on the other side of Oscar.

“Charles,” Oscar said stiffly.

Charles ignored the tone and dropped into the chair, leaning back like he owned the place. His attention flicked briefly to her, sitting silent and unmoving on the other side of Oscar. She didn’t look at him. Not even a glance.

“I see you’re still hanging out with, uh... what’s the word? Unconventional company,” Charles said, his smirk practically oozing condescension.

Oscar opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. He hated confrontation, and Charles had a way of twisting any defense into something laughable.

She didn’t react. Not a word, not a movement. She simply reached across Oscar, setting her orange juice on the table with deliberate slowness, her hand brushing his arm as she did.

Charles raised an eyebrow. “Not gonna say anything, huh? No witty comeback? That’s new. You know, Oscar, if you ever need—”

He didn’t get to finish.

In one fluid motion, she turned, grabbed Oscar by the collar, and pulled him into a kiss. It wasn’t gentle—it was bold, fierce, and entirely unapologetic. The world around them seemed to fall away.

Oscar’s first thought was that he should probably panic. His second thought, as her lips pressed against his and the faint taste of orange juice lingered on his tongue, was that he didn’t want to.

Then came the chaos.

Mid-kiss, her elbow nudged the carton of orange juice. It tipped over, spilling in a perfect arc onto Charles’s lap.

“What the hell?” Charles shot to his feet, the chair scraping loudly against the floor as the juice soaked into his trousers. “Are you serious?”

She finally broke the kiss, her expression perfectly calm as she turned to face Charles. She didn’t say a word. Not a single word.

Charles’s face turned redder by the second. “You’re insane,” he hissed, pointing at her like she was some kind of villain. “I knew it. Completely insane.”

Oscar, still dazed from the kiss, felt a laugh bubbling up in his chest. He couldn’t stop it. It escaped as a quiet chuckle at first, then a full grin spreading across his face.

Charles turned his glare on Oscar. “And you! Are you really just going to sit there and let her—”

“Yes,” Oscar said simply, his voice stronger than he’d expected. He couldn’t stop smiling.

Charles sputtered, utterly dumbfounded, before storming off toward the bathroom, muttering under his breath about how “insane people shouldn’t be allowed in public.”

The café was silent for a beat, and then, like clockwork, the whispers started.

She didn’t seem to notice—or if she did, she didn’t care. She turned back to Oscar, calmly picking up the now-empty orange juice carton and tossing it into a nearby bin.

“That was... a lot,” Oscar said finally, still catching his breath.

She shrugged, her eyes sparkling with something playful. “Rule five,” she said, as if it explained everything.

“Show you off and hold your hand?”

She tilted her head, smiling ever so slightly. “Close enough.”

And just like that, she stood up, as if nothing had happened. “Come on, quiet boy. You’re walking me to class.”

Oscar followed her out of the café, the eyes of half the room trailing after them. For the first time, though, he didn’t care. If this was what insanity felt like, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to go back to normal.

Over the next few months, she and Oscar became the university’s most inexplicable pairing. People whispered about them constantly, but neither of them seemed to care.

She still refused to conform to anyone’s expectations, roaming campus in outfits that veered between thrift-shop chaos and unapologetic glam. Oscar, meanwhile, remained quiet and steady, like a grounding force to her whirlwind energy.

They settled into their dynamic surprisingly well. She had her rules, and Oscar followed them—sometimes clumsily, but always with devotion. She dragged him to art galleries, night markets, and rooftop parties he’d never have attended on his own. He listened to her rants, held her hand when she insisted, and even endured her merciless teasing when he fumbled a karaoke mic.

In turn, she surprised him, too. Sometimes, when the world got too loud, she’d let herself be vulnerable around him. She’d show up at his apartment late at night, curl up on his couch without a word, and let him hold her until she fell asleep. He learned to read her silences, to understand that sometimes her “insanity” was a mask for something deeper.

They were an odd match, but they worked.

One Friday morning, a few months into their relationship, Oscar found himself in the sports science building for a required class study. His professor was leading the group through a practical demonstration of exercise physiology, and today’s session involved a series of physical tests—strength, endurance, flexibility.

“Right,” the professor called out. “We’ll start with the treadmill test. Everyone take turns, and when it’s your turn, you’ll need to remove your shirt so we can monitor your breathing and heart rate more closely.”

Oscar didn’t think much of it. He was used to this sort of thing. Sports science wasn’t exactly shy about physicality. So, when his turn came, he stepped onto the treadmill and casually peeled off his shirt.

The reaction was immediate.

A low whistle echoed across the room, followed by murmured laughter and a chorus of exaggerated “oohs.”

Oscar froze, his cheeks burning as he turned to look at the group. The guys in his class were all grinning, their eyes fixed not on his face, but his back.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Uh, dude,” one of them said, barely able to keep a straight face. “You wanna tell us where you got those?”

Oscar frowned, craning his neck to look over his shoulder. That’s when he remembered: the scratches.

His back was a mess of faint red marks—long, jagged streaks that stood out against his otherwise pale skin. They were clearly recent, unmistakable evidence of what could only be described as... passionate nights.

“Oh,” he said weakly, the realisation hitting him like a freight train.

“Oh?” one of the guys repeated, laughing. “That’s all you’ve got to say? Come on, man. Who’s the lucky girl?”

Oscar’s face went crimson. He tugged his shirt back on, muttering something about “none of your business,” but the damage was done.

“Bet it’s that girl,” someone said, the grin in their voice unmistakable. “You know, the one everyone says is kinda crazy.”

Oscar ignored them, focusing on the treadmill’s blinking screen as he started his run. But he couldn’t stop the small, involuntary smile that crept onto his face.

Later that day, he met up with her at their usual spot—a small café tucked away from the campus chaos. She was already there, lounging in her chair with a book in one hand and a coffee in the other.

“You’re late,” she said without looking up.

“Got held up,” he replied, sliding into the seat across from her.

She finally looked up, narrowing her eyes. “Why are you grinning like that?”

“Am I?”

“You are. Spill.”

Oscar hesitated, then leaned in slightly. “Let’s just say the guys in my class found out you’re... hands-on.”

It took her a second to process, but when she did, her face split into a wicked grin. “Oh, really?”

He nodded. “They were... impressed. Lots of whistling. Some questions I refused to answer.”

She laughed, a low, delighted sound that made his stomach flip. “Good. Let them wonder.”

“And you don’t think it’s, I don’t know, embarrassing?”

She reached across the table, her fingers brushing his as she tilted her head in that way that always made him feel like she was reading his mind. “Oscar, sweetie,” she said, her voice teasing but fond, “I’m never embarrassed about liking you. Why should you be embarrassed about liking me?”

He didn’t have an answer for that. All he knew was that in that moment, surrounded by her chaos and certainty, he was exactly where he wanted to be.

After a bit of catching up, they did what they usually did. She pulled out a book and he pulled out his laptop, the both of them doing something in silence. There was a low hum of student chatter filling the air. It was peaceful in a way Oscar had grown to love.

But the peace didn’t last.

A group of guys from his sports science class strolled past, their laughter cutting through the quiet. Oscar didn’t notice them at first—not until one of them whistled, loud and sharp.

“Yo, Oscar!” one of them called, smirking as he walked by.

“Those scratches healed up yet, man?” another teased, nudging his friend.

There was a ripple of laughter, followed by another whistle, and Oscar immediately felt his face heat up.

He looked down at his lap, his cheeks burning as he pretended to adjust the edge of his notebook. The attention made him feel like he wanted to sink into his chair and disappear.

She noticed instantly.

Her gaze snapped up, tracking the guys as they walked away. Then she turned to Oscar, watching as he ducked his head, his shoulders tense with embarrassment.

“No, no, no,” she said firmly, tossing her book aside and sitting up.

“What?” he mumbled, still looking anywhere but at her.

She reached out and gently cupped his chin, forcing him to meet her eyes. There was a teasing glint in her gaze, but her voice was soft when she said, “No, Oscar darling. None of this shy, looking-down nonsense.”

He blinked at her, unsure what to say.

“Listen to me,” she said, leaning closer, her voice dropping into a low, almost conspiratorial tone. “You’re my boyfriend. You’re sweet, gorgeous, and apparently very memorable.” Her lips twitched into a grin. “So soak it in, baby.”

Before he could protest, she grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him toward her.

Her lips pressed against his with deliberate force, and the world around them seemed to fade. The kiss wasn’t subtle or polite—it was just shy of scandalous.

Oscar’s brain short-circuited. He could vaguely hear the distant laughter of the guys who’d whistled, probably in shock, but he didn’t care. His initial surprise melted into something warmer, and he kissed her back, his hands instinctively resting on her waist.

When she finally pulled back, her eyes sparkled with satisfaction. She smirked at him, her fingers still fisted in his shirt.

“Better?” she asked.

He nodded, dazed, his cheeks still flushed but for an entirely different reason now. “Yeah,” he managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Good,” she said, leaning back casually as if nothing had happened. She picked up her book and flipped it open again, completely unbothered by the attention they’d drawn.

Oscar, on the other hand, felt the stares of half the cantine burning into his skin. But this time, instead of looking down, he found himself smiling.

If this was what she meant by “soaking it in,” he figured he could get used to it.

the end.

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verstappen-cult · 10 months ago

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PLEASEEEEE A LESTAPPEN X READER where reader and Charles are meeting jimmy and sassy for the first time hahahahah I think that would be fun! Thank youuuu

“What are you doing?” You ask Charles, who’s taking a little spray bottle out of his back pocket, as you walk out of the elevator.

“I read that cats like catnip.”

“You’re not going to spray catnip all over yourself!” You snatch the bottle out of his hands, making him pout at you. “I won’t let them like you more than me.”

“But what if they don’t like us at all?” Charles looks genuinely concerned and you fight the urge to laugh until you start thinking about it.

Max loves his cats, they’re his whole world. You’ve lost count of how many pictures he’s sent to the group chat just this week, so meeting Jimmy and Sassy is equivalent to meeting his family. And oh God, Charles is right. What are you going to do if they don’t like you? Max warned you that Sassy doesn’t like strangers and it takes her a while to warm up, and that Jimmy tends to perch up on one of the high shelves in the kitchen until he feels secure enough to come down. So, at least you know what to expect at first. But what if they react badly? What if they feel threatened by you and Charles? What if they feel jealous and don’t let you near Max!?

“Okay, I think we can spray some catnip over ourselves.” Charles’ face lights up, immediately taking the bottle from your hands and spraying some of it around himself. “But just a little.”

Charles is spraying you when the door opens revealing a very amused Max.

“What is that?” He asks with a smirk on his face.

“Perfume!” You say, taking the bottle and shoving it in your back pocket.

Max looks between you and Charles before stepping aside to let you into his apartment. He gives you two a chaste kiss on the lips before closing the door.

“What have you got there?” Max points to the bag in your hands.

“Oh, we bought some toys for the cats!” Charles says excitedly, taking the bag out of your hands and pulling the contents out. “Where are they?”

Max points a finger to the couch. And they’re right there, sitting on top of the cushions and looking warily at you and Charles.

“Hello, beautiful babies!” Charles squeaks, dragging you to the living room with him.

Sassy jumps off the couch, running to hide under a chair, far enough to still see you without being bothered. Jimmy, on the other hand, stays right where he is as Charles brings his hand closer to him. He doesn’t move, but sniffs his hand for about five seconds before rubbing his head against it.

Charles looks very pleased as he sits besides Jimmy. and he immediately jumps onto his lap, getting comfortable and asking for more ear scratches with a little purr.

Sassy, seeing how her brother is reacting, slowly makes her way back to the living room. She’s still unsure, so you grab one of the toys and crouch down, trying to lure her over to you. It takes her a couple of minutes to feel safe enough to shorten the distance, and you stop moving as she sniffs you, rubbing herself against your legs, not wanting to scare her.

You look back at Max with a big smile on your face, but he’s looking between you and Charles with a combination of surprise and confusion on his face.

“This is weird behavior.” He says, standing in the middle of his living room. He’s frowning and you can’t help but giggle.

“What can I say?” Jimmy is still purring on Charles' lap and you’re pretty sure he will never move from there again. “I’m irresistible.” He says, shrugging. Which is, you know, kinda true. Who can resist Charles Leclerc? Neither you nor Max could.

You’re too busy playing with Sassy to care about Max's hand on your lower back. If he wants cuddles, he can wait, right now all your attention is on the cats.

However, when you feel his hand on the back pocket of your jeans, you forget all about the little cat between your legs with her belly up waiting to be patted.

You and Charles make eye contact.

You’ve been caught.

“I knew it wasn’t perfume!”

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #lestappen x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #poly!f1 #charles leclerc fluff #max verstappen fluff

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12daysofchristmas · 3 months ago

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Join us in the 2024 12 Days of Christmas Challenge as we hope to spread a little ✨holiday joy and cheer✨ through the magic of writing fanfiction & creating art!

About & Rules

The challenge will run from December 13-24, 2024.

The challenge is open to any and all fandoms.

Submissions must include at least one of the prompts for that day but can combine two, three, or all four.

Prompts for the day always include: a word/words, a scenario, a quote, a "famous" quote (taken from songs and movies)

Tag your submissions with #12daysofchristmas2024 and/or mention this blog so that we will be notified to reblog your submissions here. (Also, it would be super cool if you gave this blog a follow!)

Submissions for the day must be posted before midnight YOUR time. We're not super hard-and-fast about this rule, but posting within time is very much appreciated!

If you’re posting your submission directly on Tumblr (as opposed to linking to an external site such as AO3), you MUST use a “keep reading” cut!

Edit: We're now also allowing ALL KINDS OF ART: drawings, edits, aesthetics, mood boards, videos, podfics, fiber arts... go wild!

!! Absolutely NO AI creations !!

Please format ALL submissions with the following heading:

Title Day/Prompt(s) Fandom/Character(s)/Ship Warnings (if applicable): Word Count/Medium (in case it's art): Example: Santa, Baby Day 8 - “Prompt(s) for that day” AEW - Adam Page x OC Warnings: Alcohol, cursing, sexual situations (explicit) Word Count: 7,290 or: Medium: fan video

You can also include a summary, gif, edit, whatever you want! Just don’t forget the “keep reading” if you’re posting directly on Tumblr!

If you're posting on AO3, here's our collection: 12 Days of Christmas Collection

2024 Prompts

Day 1 ❄️ First snow ❄️ Getting soaked ❄️ “Your hands are so cold.” ❄️ “I suppose it all started with the snow.” —Frosty the Snowman

Day 2 ❄️ Little lie ❄️ Trapped together in a snowstorm ❄️ “I thought you knew where you were going?!” ❄️ “I don’t know what to say, but it’s Christmas, and we’re all in misery.” —National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation

Day 3 ❄️ Accelerated heartbeat ❄️ Kissing in the snow ❄️ “Here, take my coat.” ❄️ “Let's hope the snow will make this Christmas right.” —Queen

Day 4 ❄️ Mulled wine ❄️ Playing board games ❄️ “I have no regrets.” ❄️ “Cheer up, dude. It's Christmas.” —How the Grinch Stole Christmas, 2000

Day 5 ❄️ Cookies ❄️ Holiday-themed contest ❄️ “That definitely looks… interesting?” ❄️ “That is exactly why you want a high-quality fire extinguisher right in the kitchen.” —The Santa Clause

Day 6 ❄️ Present ❄️ Making a new Christmas tradition ❄️ “Not another Christmas movie!” ❄️ “You say you hate Washington’s birthday or Thanksgiving, and nobody cares, but you say you hate Christmas, and people treat you like you’re a leper.” —Gremlins

Day 7 ❄️ Decorations ❄️ A little accident ❄️ “I was just trying to help!” ❄️ “I want my house to be seen from space.” —Deck The Halls

Day 8 ❄️ Touch starved ❄️ Telling secrets around the fire ❄️ “Sometimes the hardest part is forgiving yourself.” ❄️ “Santa, can't you hear me?” —Ariana Grande & Kelly Clarkson

Day 9 ❄️ Christmas fair/market ❄️ Late shopping (together) ❄️ “Hmm, this is actually not bad.” ❄️ “When you're still waiting for the snow to fall, doesn't really feel like Christmas at all.” —Coldplay

Day 10 ❄️ Surprise visit ❄️ Lighting scented candles ❄️ “I didn’t know you were here.” ❄️ “You’re skipping Christmas! Isn’t that against the law?” —Christmas with the Kranks

Day 11 ❄️ Fairy lights ❄️ Christmas party/ball ❄️ “I never want this night to end.” ❄️ “I won’t even wish for snow. And I’m just gonna keep on waiting, underneath the mistletoe.” —Mariah Carey

Day 12 ❄️ Feast ❄️ Indoor picnic by the tree/fireplace ❄️ “I baked your favourite cookie/pie/cake.” ❄️ “You are all I need tonight underneath the Christmas lights.” —Sia

Extra Challenge

Angst or fluff, romance or platonic - you're unsure in what direction your fic should go? Spin our

Wheel

and let it decide for you! You can spin it once and write all fics with what comes up, you can spin it daily and change course accordingly, you can spin it as often as you need or not at all - it's all up to you.

Please don’t hesitate to contact us with any questions! Also, feel free to share this post and help spread the joy and cheer!

Happy writing, and good luck 🍀

#12daysofchristmas2024 #christmas writing challenge #christmas writing prompts #writing #challenge #christmas #christmas fanfiction #holiday fanfiction

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blossomarlia · 4 months ago

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dressing up

When you're unsure how you feel in the dress the boys bought you, they make sure to re-inspire some confidence. (reupload from previous blog, see navigation for more info!)

poly!jegulus x fem! reader

warnings: mostly fluff, sexual references and implied smut at the end, reader has hair and is able-bodied.

You rub the liquid-soft silk of your dress absent-mindedly between two fingers, eyes locked on your reflection in the bathroom mirror. When you'd tried it on just a few days ago, the shop lady had told you you were a vision; now you're sure she was just trying to sell her product.

You want to blame the sizing- maybe it's too small, the wrong shape, impossible to look good in even if you had the body of a mannequin. But even that doesn't seem plausible. It's a beautiful dress, high-quality with a price to match. There's no alternative: you must be the problem, straining fabric with the parts of you that you wish you could just forget about.

You breathe out as much as you can, trying not to flush with the embarrassment you feel at the thought of having to show your boyfriends just what a mistake it was, encouraging you to spend their money on a pretty dress you can't possibly wear. It was wrong of you to accept the gift. Guilt boils hot and hurting in your stomach as you imagine your lovely boyfriends, so pleased to finally have convinced you to let them sponsor such a luxury. How awful to repay them by looking dowdy and silly and not at all right for something so beautiful.

You think quickly, aware of the expectant pair sitting just seconds away in the living room. You can't pass them without revealing yourself, but the prospect is unimaginable. What a waste of money.

“Baby?” James’ voice, soft and cheerful, sounds from just past the door. Your throat tightens. “Not that we’re too miffed, but we would like to see you at some point. You’ve been in there since we got back from the shops twenty minutes ago.”

Shit. You curse yourself for deciding to come in here for a full-body view of the dress, leaving all your other clothing in the bedroom. Exiting naked would usually warrant rather a happy reaction from the boys, but after looking a few moments more at the outline of your body in the mirror, that doesn't seem like a good option either. “Sorry!”

"Not to worry, sweetheart."

James’ white bathrobe is the only reasonable alternative. You grab it off the hook by the towels and wrap it around yourself, nodding contentedly as it reveals only a sliver of fabric at your chest and nothing more. You might as well be wearing a nightie, for all they know. The dress will just have to be returned, and you'll tell them you couldn't find one that fit- technically correct.

You aim to leave the bathroom casually, but that becomes almost impossible when you open the door and find yourself face-to-face with Regulus, his fist raised as if to knock.

“Hi, Reg!” Too cheery. You tamper down your smile and stand on your tip-toes to kiss him, holding the robe tightly around yourself.

“Hello. I was just going to ask what you wanted for dinner. Are you alright, darling?" He wonders, watching you with storm-grey eyes that always seem to see just a little more than you're expecting them to.

"Of course! Dandy." You supply.

He cocks his head, unmoving. "You’re in an odd mood.”

“What? No. This is my usual mood,” You insist.

“M-hm.” His eyes drop momentarily down to the robe, narrowing. “Any particular reason you're wearing James' robe?”

“Am I?”

The aforementioned individual appeared, suddenly, grinning. “I don’t mind. Looks great, very sexy!”

You wonder if it's possible for your face to heat so much that it melts.

“Incorrigible, James.” Regulus says softly.

You give him a weak smile, squirming away from the impossible weight of their combined gazes and heading for the bedroom. Regrettably, they follow you.

“Why are you wearing it, angel?” James asks, flopping onto the bed.

You shrug, searching for an opportunity to get them both to leave you alone to change. The truth is that your own robe would've been much too short, and if they see the bottom of the dress they'll probably ask for the whole thing, and that's just not going to happen. You press your fingers into the soft curve of your lower stomach nervously, taking a few steps backwards until your back hits the wall. James' brows pull together.

“Um. I don't know.”

The two of them exchange a glance. You understand; you're not exactly behaving in a normal manner.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Regulus asks. You like to think you're better at reading his expressions than most- the slight slant of his dark brows tells you he's concerned, but you can't get a good read on the rest of it.

"Yes, I'm fine! Why are you- I- I'm just a little warm."

"Call me crazy, angel," James says, amused, "But taking off the robe might help with that."

Your reply comes too quickly, to your immediate regret. "No!"

There's a brief silence. You feel like a total idiot, but you're sure it beats the feeling you'd get seeing them pretend to like the way you look right now. You squeeze your eyes shut for second, swallowing hard.

"I'm sorry," You sound mortifyingly close to tears. "Sorry. I just- sorry."

At a total loss, James stares at you from the bed. Regulus touches your upper arm gently.

"There's no need to apologise, darling, just tell us what's happened. What's made you so upset?"

You force yourself to make eye contact. "Please can you both just go while I get changed?"

Their expressions are awful; knowing you're causing such a fuss over something so trivial, so stupid, you feel like just about the worst girlfriend in the world.

“Is there something you're worried we'll see? Bruises, or something?” James asks. "We can go, baby, but if there's something going on it might be better for Reg or me to take a look. You know I was joking when I said I'd break up with you if you got that tattoo of Margaret Thatcher's face."

You deflate, softened by his attempt to break the tension. Regulus rolls his eyes, but you see the corner of his mouth twitch. "What's going on, hm?" He asks quietly.

With a sigh, you stare at the ground, giving up. They're too lovely to stick to your original plan- you'll just have to let it happen, and hope to make up for it another time by looking better.

"...I'm not sure you'll love what you see."

“Of course we’ll love it. We love you.” Regulus says firmly, like it's obvious.

“That doesn’t mean-”

“Angel. Take the robe off, yeah? We’ll prove it to you.”

At James' insistence, you take a deep breath and stare at the ground as you shrug off the robe, wrapping your arms around your middle. You're keenly aware of the places where your skin presses against fabric, the way it falls, and the heat rushing to your cheeks. Oh, god.

"Fuck." Regulus says, uncharacteristically crude. You curl in on yourself a little further.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not how it looked on the-”

James interrupts you. “Baby? I’m gonna be honest, because I love you, okay?”

“Okay.” You say meekly, eyes stinging. Maybe it's even worse than you’d thought.

“I cannot hear a single word you are saying when you look that good. Like, a single word. It’s all lost on me. I’m going to need a minute.”

Regulus’ hands are on you before you could properly react to James’ words, drawing your arms away from your body and taking in the dress with hungry eyes.

“Exquisite, sweetheart," He exclaims, hands on yours. "I would say you’re never taking this off, but that’s actually all I want to do.”

"What?" You manage, smiling despite yourself. You pull your hands away and press them to your face. "Reg, you don't have to-"

“You thought we wouldn’t want to see this?” Hands on your shoulders, Regulus spins you once, before pulling your back against his chest and planting a heated kiss to the side of your neck. “And you called me crazy?”

“You’re- I’m- what?” You stammer. James makes an unintelligible sound from the bed, pressing a dramatic hand to his heart. "Thank you."

"Don't thank us, angel. Holy shit. I'm thanking you. I'm thanking the gods. I'm thanking-"

"James is very thankful." Regulus whispers into your hair. You laugh out loud, a little giddy at all their praise. "D'you know what I'd be thankful for right now?"

"What?"

"You on that bed, darling," He says. You lean into his touch as his hand slides down your side, squeezing a part of your waist you'd prodded critically in the mirror not ten minutes ago. Now you enjoy the feeling of his warm hands through the thin fabric, enjoy having a shape his hands both appreciate so well. "Off you go."

It's an instruction, now, and you shiver at the authority in his tone as you obey. James is on you before the duvet has even settled, making you gasp as he presses kisses all over your face.

“I’m going to destroy this dress. I’m sorry.” He says earnestly. You giggle happily, insecurities not quite gone but coated in a honey-sweet joy that softens their presence.

“I thought you liked it.”

“M-hm. It’s okay,” His hand finds your thigh and grips it firmly, fingers pressing into soft skin. “We’ll buy you a million more.”

You let yourself enjoy it all for a moment more before giving any space to the snarky voice at the back of your mind, more out of a desire for reassurance than genuine belief that the two boys on top of you would genuinely do such a thing. "You're not- not just saying all this to make me feel better?"

“Why would we ‘just say’ this?” Regulus murmurs against your right shoulder, forearm across your stomach as he does wicked things to your skin that you'll have to cover in concealer if you want to wear anything sleeveless for a few days.

“...I don't know. Make me feel better?”

“You’re stunning. Literally- how often is James speechless, hm?”

You laughed. “Hardly ever.”

“Exactly. You're quite regularly the most beautiful girl either of us have ever seen, darling, whether you're feeling the same way or not,” Regulus leans on his elbow to look at you sternly. "We don't appreciate you this way because you look like somebody else, we adore you because you're yourself, and completely radiant."

“I don’t think you don't like me, I promise. It’s just something that’s in my brain- that I’m ugly, or something. It's silly."”

"It is," James agrees, allowing Regulus to return to whatever he's doing to your collarbone. "But it's not your fault. Your only job is to listen to what we're telling you, instead of your insecurity. Yeah?"

"Yeah," You nod, a little breathless. It's very easy to be agreeable when they're doing all these things to you. James kisses a line down your throat, to your chest, to your arm, slipping the strap of the dress down to follow. “I love you both," You manage.

They answer in their own, doubly enjoyable, ways.

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beneathashadytree · 6 months ago

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RESPONSIBLE DADS - LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MEN X READER

Warnings : autistic!Zayne with his autistic daughter, all of them are girl dads here (except for Xavier who has twins), cuteness-aggression bites, one mention of a gun (no one is harmed!), no mentions of pregnancy (their kids can be interpreted as biological or adopted), this isn’t proof-read, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : so much domestic fluff ☹️🫶🏽

Word count : 2.3K words (holy shit???)

Additional notes : This is a combination of two asks I’d received a month or two ago about the LNDS men as dads while their partner is away, and Zayne in particular struggling with his own autism vs his child’s autism. The brain rot was real in this one😭 To anyone else reading this, my requests are still closed!! These are just old requests I had in my inbox🫶🏽

Tip jar!

Masterlist

“She went down without much of a fuss,” Zayne said, slowly closing the bedroom door behind him as he set his phone on the dresser and got ready for bed over the video call, despite the time zone differences. He’d tried to convince them to just let themself rest instead of staying up past 3 AM, but they’d paid him no mind and insisted on seeing him last thing before bed.

They hummed, watching him slip out of his button up through their screen with a fond gaze. “She is really quiet compared to what I’ve heard about kids her age.”

In the midst of folding his shirt, he paused, a slight crease between his eyebrows. “A little too quiet.” At his concerned face, they straightened up in their seat and leaned in closer to their phone. “I think… she has difficulty connecting with me.”

Their expression was unsure at that. “I don’t know, Zayne. You know she loves you…”

“I do,” was his swift answer, pausing as he pulled his pyjama shirt over his head, then popping out with his hair adorably mussed. “But maybe she feels like I wouldn’t understand her.”

No matter how much he wanted to seem stoic and unaffected by the prospect, there was no hiding the conflicted emotions swimming in his eyes. With an almost sad smile, they asked him, “Even though anyone that sees you two says you have so much in common?”

With a slight flush (was it out of embarrassment as he noticed his messy hair, or was it a twinge of pride in being so connected to his daughter?) he began to apply his minimal skincare that he’d grown used to with them, scarred skin deftly being cared for after years of neglect.

“Autistic girls have different experiences than autistic boys, and their struggles are often overlooked because of these differences. Maybe she subconsciously feels that we can’t bridge that gap.”

Resting their head against their hand, keen eyes bore through him. Zayne would never go unheard as long as they were there. “Do you feel that gap?”

He shrugged, swallowing thickly as he wiped the excess off on his hand towel. “It’s not about me. Studies show that—”

Shaking their head, they sighed a little in affectionate exasperation. “It doesn’t matter what studies say. You’re overthinking it because you want things to be perfect. It’s sweet, just… not very realistic.”

“Mm. I know,” he softly conceded, combing through his hair with a distant glimmer in his eyes. It wasn’t so easy, navigating the emotions and ideas of a child that one already struggled with for decades.

They apologetically smiled at him, then added, “She trusts you with her life because she knows how hard you try to understand her, no matter how difficult that may be sometimes. You give her the space to be able to communicate her needs properly, and that’s why she loves you beyond measure, Zayne.”

He looked away for a few beats, but that was enough time for them to see the misty-eyed wonder in his eyes as he looked at the crooked drawing on his bedside table that she’d made of him holding her in his arms.

His sweet daughter who carried a piece of his heart everywhere she went.

“Then she’s just like you. Very open with her affections.” Huffing out an impossibly tender laugh, he picked up his phone once again and began to climb into bed, his shoulders sagging with relief; like he needed that reassurance to be able to nestle his body into the mattress, cold as it was without his lover. “Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve it from you both…”

“You’re gonna get sick like that, and guess who’ll be cleaning up that mess?” Rafayel frowned, grabbing his daughter by the scruff of her neck and carrying her off before she got her pretty dress drenched by the wave that came crashing down where she’d been standing.

“I can’t get sick from water, daddy, and you know it,” came the reply between giggles, her eyes closed as she relished in the spray of seawater.

With a grunt, he fumbled with his phone a little as he switched to carrying her against his hip with one arm, before turning back to the ongoing video call. “Holding down the fort?” they teasingly asked, arching their brow at their daughter’s windswept hair and inevitably sandy fists curled up against Rafayel’s chest.

“She likes to bully me.” He pouted as he saw two pairs of mischievous eyes looking at him. “No guesses as to where she picked that up from.”

“Are you sure that your six year old daughter—who, mind you, is as cute as a button—is bullying you?”

“Daddy’s just silly, Lemurians are fine with water,” his daughter tried to reason with what she felt was perfectly logical. “He just doesn’t want to wash my clothes again if I get them wet.”

“And why should I?” he indignantly huffed out at the grin that showed she was definitely up to no good. “They’ll get dirty ten seconds later anyways. It’s such a pain.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t leave paint buckets everywhere, then I wouldn’t be on my fourth dress of the day.” Her sassy mutter under her breath was the last straw, and then his instincts took over and—

Chomp!

His teeth nibbled on her round little cheeks, cuteness aggression washing away any possible annoyance (which he’d been feigning, anyways) at the prospect of having to do the laundry all over again. She cried out in protest, though her shreaks of laughter and tighter hold on him gave away the fact that—not unlike his partner—she loved every bit of it.

“You got my face all dirty,” she whined, wiping her cheek against his silk shirt as he walked them back up to the house, much to his dismay.

A chuckle came from his screen, and he flushed under the sweet gaze and the grin he missed so much. “There goes another round in the washing machine. Y’know, Raf, it’s not the smartest move around to wear your favorite clothes around your kid.”

“No kidding,” he grumbled, though there was no bite behind his words. In fact, the tender look in his gem-like eyes only spoke volumes of the adoration he held inside. And maybe his little girl felt it, and decided it would be the perfect moment to press a kiss to where she could reach, right over his heart.

“I don’t mind the paint, daddy. You always make the prettiest things with it, pretty just like you,” she softly said, her tiny index finger toying with the pearlescent button on his blouse.

How much more did she want to squeeze his heart in his chest? He didn’t think he could possibly love her any more than he already did, and yet here she was, proving over and over again that she was the greatest gift he could ever be blessed with after all these years. Walking into their home with sandy feet and salty skin was no longer a dream, but a part of his quaint little life.

“Even if you did ruin my favorite dress and sandals.”

“Papa’s been asleep for three hours now,” she whined in a low voice, her bottom lip jutted out as she looked back at Xavier curled up in a ball in the middle of the unmade bed, legs tangled in the messy sheets. She then turned back to the videocall at hand. “Can’t you wake him up, please?”

Her twin brother popped up from behind her and patted her shoulders in what he hoped was a soothing manner. “He’s tired after he played with us. Let’s leave him for a bit.”

With a downcast gaze, she reluctantly nodded and walked out with him, the phone shaking as it was a little too big for her small hands.

Now out in the living room, they could finally raise their voices a little. “Papa cleaned up in the morning too. We probably shouldn’t have asked him to play with us.” He looked a little forlorn as he fiddled with his fingers. Painfully shy, it often showed when he was doubting himself. “We tried to help him after lunch, but—”

“That’s okay, what matters is that you both tried to lend him a hand,” they sweetly reassured them as they smiled through the screen. “And I’m sure if he was too tired to play with you guys, he wouldn’t have offered it in the first place.”

Their daughter gasped, eyes shining in awe at that. “How did you know that Papa was the one who came up with the game?”

“Because he waits for playtime every day, just to spend time with you guys. He’s always so excited, y’know?”

With matching grins (though one was more bashful than the other), the two seven year-olds looked significantly lighter than they had been when the call had first started. The precious moment was soon interrupted by a yawn from behind and a tuft of blonde hair taking up half the background.

“Did you two sneak off to have them all to yourself?” came Xavier’s sleep-addled voice, as he shuffled to pull them onto his lap and readjust the camera. “Cheeky, taking advantage of my nap.”

His daughter laughed, her hands going to loop around his neck. “We weren’t! Promise.”

Her brother reached up to pat down Xavier’s bedhead, gently combing through the soft locks. “You looked tired, Papa. We didn’t want to wake you up with our voices.”

At that, Xavier couldn’t help the upwards quirk of his lips, all the love one could contain threatening to burst through as he held his world between his fingertips—and the best part of him miles away but no further from the heart.

“You’re sweet, just like a certain someone we all miss,” he said, before kissing their foreheads and ruffling their hair, earning little grumbles of protest. Turning his attention back to the videocall, Xavier’s eyes softened. “How long until we can take naps together on the couch again?”

His partner sighed, glancing at the calender on the wall for a moment. “Should be three days. It’s hell without you guys. Maybe I’ve gotten used to waking you all up for an hour in the mornings.”

“Hey, it’s all because of Papa!”

“He does sleep in twice as long as us…”

“And it’s gotten even worse now that you’re gone.”

He chuckled at their sulking feeding off each other, and the collective agreement that things just weren’t the same when his lover wasn’t beside him where they belonged. “Then maybe this should be enough to convince them to hurry back to us so we can get up early every day, hmm?”

“Tell me why Luke and Kieran frantically called me up and told me stop you from endangering our one year old girl. Now.”

“Well, hello to you too, sweetie.” Sylus rolled his eyes at the clearly enthusiastic greeting. “I’ve missed you too. I’m doing good without you for two weeks. Thanks for asking.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t give me that crap. You’ll live.” Scoffing, they crossed their arms in front of their chest. “Less avoiding the topic, more explaining why your seconds in command are treating you like a ticking bomb.”

“They’re more like lackeys, you know.” A hint of irritation climbed up his spine. Luke and Kieran were more like lost puppies that would be a danger to themselves—and society—if they were left to their whims. That’s all that they were (or so he tried to convince himself).

They waved him off, knowing that his half-assed words weren’t to be taken seriously. “I beg to differ. Now, where is she and what happened?”

Silence settled for a few moments, but then he realized it wasn’t in his favor to not quickly come clean. “She was playing around with me in bed, then seemed fascinated by my left pocket. Said pocket… may or may not have had a gun.”

Leaning in close to the camera, they sighed heavily, and pinched the bridge of their nose. “And I’m assuming her magic little fingers found the trigger.”

“More or less yes,” he mumbled under his breath, swallowing thickly as he met their dead-eyed stare. “Had to whip it out and fling it across the room… which may or may not have caused it to slam into the new bookcase and send it toppling.”

It didn’t matter how many people he’d managed to fearlessly face down; pinned underneath his partner’s disapproval, he found himself unable to move. “And that’s where they came in?”

Sylus hummed, flipping the camera and showing them the fractured remains on the floor. “Sorry about that, sweetie. Didn’t have the time to clean it up, what with feeding her and getting her ready for bed.”

“It’s fine, I can build another one.” Their quick dismissal was followed by the furrowing of their eyebrows. “What matters is that you prioritized her safety first.”

“Of course,” he was quick to reply, turning the camera back to himself, before he chuckled a little, sweetness seeping through his voice, “Though I do admit, seeing her have no self-preservation instincts really did make her strikingly similar to you in that regard.”

“Really flattering, hearing you praise her brashness and compare it to mine.” Their expression then grew more serious, and they worried their bottom lip between their teeth. “But… please. Don’t keep any weapons in the same room as her. She’s naturally curious.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he murmured, having had his dose of sheer panic at her tiny hands. He couldn’t remember a moment in his life when he’d been as terrified as he was earlier, his blood turning to ice at the thought of endangering her because of his own fast-paced life.

“I know you’ll be more careful. You’re so good to her—and me,” they quietly mused, a grateful look on their face as they admired him—tired ruby eyes, unruly silver hair, and all.

And Sylus had no control over his own lovesick stare, perfectly content with dancing in their palm for the rest of their lives. After all, he’d found the only two people in this world he could forfeit his life for. There was no shame in admitting it—and so he did, ever so softly. “I suppose you can take pride in knowing that you both have me wrapped around your fingers.”

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austinbutlerslovers · 4 months ago

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The Good Girl

Label Mature 18+

One Shot

Summary Shy timid and sweet by nature you have trouble adjusting to the real world until a fateful chain of events compels you to do something a good girl would never dream of.

Heading from Michigan state back to Wisconsin for spring break you get stranded in a downpour with your roommate on the out skirts of Chicago.

Luckily for you there’s a bar nearby to seek help where you meet a handsome stranger who blurs the lines between right and wrong, until you find yourself drawn into a wild night of passion.

⚠️ Hardcore Smut ⚠️ dubcon •coercion • inexperience •shyness •corruption •age gap• power play• overstimulation •fingering •nipple play•teasing• size kink • orgasms • protection

Inspo two requests similar theme for Benny ☺️ age gap +innocent reader + smut (obsessed so I combined them 💞) enjoy *Special thanks @thejoywillburnoutthepain

The Good Girl

You and your friend, Darlene, have been driving for hours when you finally reach the mile marker for Chicago. The relentless downpour makes it nearly impossible to see through the windshield.

The wipers work frantically, but the rain falls faster than they can clear it and Darlene’s brows furrow as she concentrates on the road.

The two of you are heading back to Wisconsin for spring break from Michigan State University. You had only been at the university for a few months, and everything still felt new and overwhelming.

The campus was massive, and you, timid and shy, had found it hard to fit in right away. Meeting Darlene had been a stroke of luck.

She is confident and outgoing with a knack for effortlessly making friends—fun in a way that draws everyone in. You, on the other hand, are shy and strait-laced, always playing the good girl, the one who follows the rules unsure how to step out of your comfort zone.

While Darlene charges into life without hesitation, you tend to observe, fading into the background, content in your quieter world. But somehow, despite your differences, you’ve become inseparable.

When you first moved into the dorms, you had been so nervous about sharing a room with someone. The thought of spending months with a complete stranger had filled you with anxiety, but Darlene quickly eased your worries.

From the moment she introduced herself, she had a way of making you feel comfortable. It helped that she was also from Wisconsin, and the two of you bonded quickly over the familiar feeling of home.

Darlene was everything you weren’t—bold, loud, and always up for a good time. She had quickly become the center of your small social circle, and while you were still adjusting to university life, you admired how easily she navigated it.

Always quieter and more reserved, you were happy to let her take the lead in most things, and Darlene didn’t seem to mind your shyness one bit. If anything, Darlene had made it her mission to pull you out of your shell.

She’d coax you into doing things you’d never dream of, flashing that infectious smile that made it impossible to say no.

Whether it was dragging you to social events or encouraging you to take risks, Darlene seemed to thrive on challenging the boundaries you set for yourself always making sure it was in a way that made you feel a little spark of confidence.

As she drives through the storm, you can’t help but feel a little more at ease with her behind the wheel. Even though she plays around a lot, she’s focused now, her hands steady as the car moves cautiously along the rain-soaked highway.

“You alright over there?” Darlene asks, glancing at you for a second before returning her eyes to the road.

“Yeah,” you reply quietly, your hands resting nervously in your lap. “Just… this weather is pretty bad.”

Darlene chuckles, her confidence unwavering. “Don’t worry, it’s just a little rain,” she says, and though the intensity of the downpour would make most people nervous, she stays calm and upbeat.

You can’t help but smile a little. Even though you’re shy and still adjusting to this new chapter of your life, Darlene has a way of making you feel like everything will be okay. For someone like you, who’s always been more cautious and hesitant, having her around feels like a safety net.

“I still can’t believe you’ve never had a boyfriend,” Darlene teases, glancing over at you with a mischievous grin, trying to keep the mood light despite the weather.

You blush, feeling self-conscious. “It’s not like I haven’t thought about it,” you mutter, looking down at your hands in your lap. “I just… I don’t know. I’ve never met the right guy.”

Darlene laughs lightly, shaking her head. “You’ve gotta stop waiting for some prince charming to show up on a white horse. Sometimes you just gotta go for it.”

You smile softly, fiddling with the edge of your dress. “Maybe. But I don’t want to rush into something just to say I’ve had a boyfriend.”

Darlene rolls her eyes playfully. “You’re too sweet for this world, I swear.”

Just as she says that, the car begins to sputter. Darlene frowns, glancing down at the dashboard. “That’s not good,” she says, concern flickering in her voice.

Before you can ask what’s happening, the engine stalls completely. The car coasts to a slow stop on the side of the road, the rain pounding relentlessly against the roof.

“Oh, great,” Darlene groans, slumping back in her seat. “What now?”

You both sit in silence for a moment, the sound of the rain and the dead silence of the car making it clear you’re stuck.

“What do we do?” you ask, glancing around at the empty, rain-soaked road.

Darlene sighs. “I don’t know, but we can’t sit here forever. Maybe there’s something up ahead.”

Squinting through the rain, you spot a faint neon sign flickering in the distance. “Hey, look,” you say, pointing. “There’s a bar up there. Maybe we can get some help?”

Darlene turns to see the sign and nods quickly. “It’s worth a shot. Let’s go.”

Without a jacket or umbrella, you and Darlene step out into the pouring rain. Within moments, you’re completely soaked, the rain drenching your clothes and hair. You hurry toward the bar, the neon sign glowing brighter as you approach.

When you finally reach the doors and step inside, the warmth of the bar wraps around you, and you let out a relieved sigh. The room is filled with low chatter and the sound of pool balls clacking together.

Every male patron glances up, momentarily caught off guard by your appearance as you and Darlene enter, dripping wet from the rain.

One in particular, catches your eye—he’s leaning over the pool table, his muscular arms exposed in a sleeveless tee, a cue stick resting in his hand. His sandy brown hair is tousled lightly and his striking blue eyes immediately lock onto yours as his full lips curve into a knowing smile.

You’ve never seen a man like him before—so rugged, so effortlessly confident. His eyes seem to hold you in place, like he can see through every layer of you, and your cheeks burn, suddenly realizing your dress is clinging to your form.

A wave of nerves and excitement washes over you as and you quickly look away, feeling flustered as your hands fidget nervously pulling down the hem of your soaked dress.

You can still feel his eyes on you, the heat rushing to your face, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t stop yourself as you sneak another glance at him.

He sets his cue stick down, the game long forgotten as he starts walking your way. His friend follows his gaze, pausing mid-shot, but all you can focus on is him. Your mind is a blur of emotions as he approaches, and you struggle to compose yourself.

“You’re gonna catch a chill like that,” he says, his voice deep and warm, his eyes never leaving yours. “What happened to you?”

Your words stick in your throat, and you try to speak, but only a few soft breaths escape. You take in how tall he is, your eyes flicking over the strength of his muscles before managing to lock eyes with him again. Up close, he’s even more gorgeous, and your heart skips a beat.

Darlene notices the effect he has on you and grins, stepping in to lead the conversation.

“Our car stalled,” she explains, glancing at you, clearly amused by how dumbstruck you are staring at him. “We don’t know why it happened, but it’s up the road. I’m Darlene by the way and this shy one here is—“

She nudges you to introduces yourself and when you tell him your name it’s barely more than a whisper as you look up at him still caught in a daze.

“I’m Benny,” he says, his expression softening, his gaze lingering on you. “I’ll get you some help,” and with that he heads toward the bar, leaving you standing there with your pulse racing in his absence.

You and Darlene wait as Benny asks the bartender to call a local tow truck. The bartender nods, picking up the phone to make the call, but you can barely concentrate.

Your thoughts are completely consumed by Benny—his voice, his easy confidence, the way he moves. Your gaze keeps drifting over his body, noticing how the biceps in his muscular arms flex in his sleeveless shirt, every movement smooth and effortless.

“So, that’s your type, huh?” Darlene teases seeing the way you stare at Benny with an all knowing grin. “No wonder the college boys aren’t doing it for you.”

You flush with embarrassment, glancing at Darlene, unsure of what to say. “I—what? No, I can’t just…,” you stammer, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

“Why not? He’s gorgeous. You should go for it,” she encourages, her grin widening as she nudges you playfully.

“I can’t,” you murmur, shaking your head. The idea feels too bold, too daring, but your heart races at the thought.

Before you can protest further, Benny returns, a reassuring smile on his face. “Looks like you’ll get a tow when the rain clears up,” he says, his eyes flicking to yours with a warmth that makes your pulse quicken.

��Where do you live?” Benny asks casually, his gaze still fixed on you, making you feel like you’re the only one in the room.

“W-Wisconsin, I’m on spring break…from…-M-Michigan State” you finally manage to get out, your voice stuttering as you try to calm your rising nerves.

Benny tuts softly, shaking his head with an amused grin. “Long way from home sugar,” he says smoothly, his tone low and infectious with a look in his eyes that makes your stomach flip. You nod eagerly, unable to shake the butterflies swirling inside you under his gaze.

He glances out the window, noticing the rain still coming down in sheets. "Looks like we’ll be here for a while," he smiles. "How about a game of pool to pass the time?" He asks as his eyes lock onto yours, and the way he says it makes your heart skip a beat.

You fidget nervously, your fingers brushing against the hem of your damp dress shy under his attention. "I’ve… I’ve never played before," you admit, feeling a flush in your cheeks.

Darlene, ever the bold one, nudges you with a grin. "She’d love to learn," she teases, giving you a knowing look, clearly amused by how flustered you are around Benny.

Benny grins his eyes softening as he looks at you. "C’mon, I’ll show you sugar," he coaxes gently, his voice like honey with warmth and reassurance. “I’ll teach you everything you need to know."

His charm works its magic, and despite your nerves, there’s something about Benny’s easygoing nature that makes you feel a little more comfortable.

He gestures for his friend, a tall guy with a laid back smile, to come over. "This is Cal," Benny introduces. "Cal, this is Darlene."

Cal flashes an easy grin, nodding at Darlene,“Nice to meet you,” he says, and the way his eyes linger on her makes it clear that he’s more than happy to take over the role of entertaining her for the night.

Benny brings you over to the pool table and once there, he quickly pockets the scattered balls from the previous game until only a white and red one remain.

You can’t help but admire the way his muscles flex beneath his sleeveless tee as he lines them up, the white ball at the edge near you and the red ball in the center, each placement deliberate and smooth. When he’s done he looks up and catches you watching him, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his lips.

“Ready?” he asks, his voice low and inviting. You nod and he picks up a cue stick placing it gently in your hands, you stare down at its size and feel its weight in your palms unsure of what to do.

"Here," he says softly, his fingers brushing against yours and he positions you over the table.

The heat of his body is almost overwhelming against you and your pulse quickens while he guides your movements.

"Just like this," he murmurs, leaning in, his breath warm against your ear. "You gotta line it up to take your shot, then you ease into it until it feels right."

The sound of his voice, so deep and close, sends a shiver down your spine.

His chest presses lightly against your back as he adjusts your grip on the cue, and the firm feel of his body so close to yours has you nearly forgetting how to even hold the stick.

Your try to focus, but it’s impossible with Benny pressed against you, his touch is smooth and casual as he leans in even closer, his hand gently guiding yours as you prepare you take your first shot.

"You’ve got to get it just right," he whispers softly near your ear, and the simple gesture has your breath catching in your throat.

You look up from the game and see Darlene having a blast with Cal, their laughter filling the bar as they sip drinks and select music from the jukebox carefree and completely at ease.

"Do you drink?" Benny asks suddenly, his voice low, his blue eyes flicking over to you with a teasing glint.

You shake your head, barely managing to answer as your mind races with the feel of his hand still resting over yours on the pool cue. "No… never," you say, your voice breathless.

Benny’s smile grows approvingly. "Good girl," he says in a low, teasing tone, his gaze lingering on your flushed face for just a moment longer before returning to the game.

His compliment sends a wave of warmth through you, and you can’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness.

His hand moves to your waist and for a moment, just from his touch, your heart races even faster.

"You’re doing so good," he says softly, his eyes catching yours again, and the way he looks at you makes your stomach flip.

His grip tightens on your waist as he adjusts your stance and warmth of his palm through the thin fabric of your dress ignites something deep within you.

Despite trying to focus on the game, all you can think about is Benny and how close he is, every subtle movement of his body feeling impossibly intimate.

Benny flexes his arm, as he holds you to line up the shot, and a small, breathy sound of pleasure escapes your lips.

His smile widens instantly, hearing it “You alright there, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice soft, laced with a teasing tone.

You can feel your face burning, embarrassed by how easily you’ve been overcome by him, but Benny doesn’t seem to mind.

The way his eyes linger on you with his fingers gently pressing into your waist, says he’s enjoying every second.

“Relax for me,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear.

His entire body presses against yours as he helps guide the pool cue forward, and all you can focus on is the sensation of his strong arms wrapped around you, the firmness of his chest, and the way his breath is warm on your skin.

“We’re almost there,” he whispers again, teasing against your ear.

You’re completely overwhelmed by him, and you can tell he knows it. His smile stays soft, as if he’s testing just how easily he can make your heart race with a single touch.

He thrusts into you hard as you both push the stick forward. The flex of his body against yours makes pleasurable sigh escape your lips.

You feel a warmth flood through you as the ball rolls smoothly across the table and lands perfectly in the pocket with a satisfying clack.

His smile grows even wider, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Just like that,” he murmurs, his voice deep and smooth, the words sending a shiver through you.

As you slowly stand back up together the heat between you intensifies, with a single glance, your eyes lock on his in a way that’s more than just a feeling—it’s deeper. Every breath feels heavier, the air charged with something unspoken, heavy with anticipation, waiting for what comes next.

Neither of you notice the bartender approaching until he speaks, “Sorry to say, ladies,” he says, looking between you and Darlene.

“Even though the rain’s let up, I can’t reach the tow truck driver again. Seems he’s already clocked out for the night, I’ll have to try again in the morning.”

You stand in shock, exchanging a worried glance with Darlene, the reality sinking in that you’re stranded without a way home.

“There’s a motel not far from here that’ll take you in for the night,” the bartender offers.

Darlene, always practical but a bit frustrated, sighs. “That’s nice and all, but we don’t even have a way to get there without the car.”

“I can take you,” Benny says, his voice steady and reassuring, his eyes locking on yours. “On my Harley.”

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of his motorcycle, excitement and nerves swirling inside as you look up at him, shy and hesitant.

“I’ve never been on a motorcycle before,” you admit quietly, your voice barely a whisper.

Benny’s grin widens, a knowing glint in his eyes. “There’s a first time for everything,” he says, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “Didn’t have any trouble learning how to play pool,” he adds, his gaze slowly looking you over, lingering on you with a heated intensity.

The hint of seduction in his words makes your knees weaken slightly, your heart racing as you nod shyly, completely captivated by the effortless charm in his voice.

Cal, glances at Darlene. “I can take you, too, if you’re game,” he offers with an easygoing smile.

Darlene doesn’t miss a beat, grinning as she says, “Sounds like fun! Sure, why not?” Her carefree attitude puts you a little more at ease, though your heart still races with anticipation.

Benny’s gaze lingers on you, his smile softening. “You’ll be alright with me.” He promises and the protective edge in his voice makes you quickly nod as you look up at him.

After closing out the tab, he brings you in close pulling his leather jacket on to you, the scent of leather with the faint hint of him surrounding your presence.

“Can’t have you catching a chill, sweetheart,” he says with a smile, his voice low and smooth as his eyes lock onto yours, causing a surge of warmth to rush through you at the unexpected gesture.

He leads you outside as the damp night air settles around you, still heavy from the rain. You follow him to his motorcycle, a black, metallic shiny thing with chrome glinting in the low light. It’s unlike anything you’ve seen before—sleek, powerful, like it could tear down the road without a second thought.

Benny moves with a natural confidence effortlessly swinging his leg over the bike, settling into place with ease. When he kick-starts the engine, it roars to life, the low, rumbling sound vibrating through the air, sending a thrill straight through you.

He turns, offering his hand with a calm smile.

“Come on, sugar,” he says, his voice smooth and reassuring. His hand is warm as you take it and your heart is pounding as you climb onto the bike behind him wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. The feel of his solid body beneath your touch makes you feel safe, despite the wild excitement racing through you.

His sleeveless tee does little to conceal the firm, hard muscle beneath your fingertips, heightening your awareness of his strength as you hold him tighter, feeling every movement of his powerful body under your grasp.

You glance over and watch as Darlene climbs onto the back of Cal’s bike with an eager smile, and soon both bikes rumble to life as you all take off into the night.

The engine hums beneath you, the power of it reverberating through your body as the wind whips around your face. The lights from the town blur past, the wet streets reflecting everything like a mirror.

The sensation of being so close to Benny—feeling the wind whip around you, his warmth steady in front of you as the bike rumbles under your legs—leaves you breathless. You feel a wild, exhilarating sense of freedom, like you’re untethered from everything as you speed through the cool, rain-soaked air.

Benny slows the bike as you near the motel, the rumble of the engine softening as he pulls into the lot and the bike rolls smoothly to a stop.

You tighten your arms around his waist reluctant to let go. The warmth of his body against yours, the security of his presence, makes you want to stay just like this for a little longer.

He shuts off the engine, and the sudden quiet is almost startling after the roar of the ride. His hand rests on yours as he turns his head, glancing back at you.

“You alright?” he asks softly, the corners of his mouth lifting into a small smile. His voice is calm, reassuring, but there’s something deeper in his gaze, as if he can feel the reluctance in your hold and you nod to him not quite ready to let go.

Darlene and Cal arrive, pulling up beside you, and you feel a wave of dismay as you realize the ride—and Bennys closeness—is coming to an end. With a soft sigh, you release him from your grasp.

Benny swings his leg off the bike and turns to help you down. His grip is strong, his hands firm as they steady you, and you cling to him, not wanting to let go, feeling so small and delicate in his protective hold.

When he gently places you on the ground, his hands linger a moment longer than they should, and your fingers instinctively tighten around his firm biceps.

Your eyes are soft, pleading for more as he gazes down at you. A knowing smile tugs at his lips feeling the same pull that you do, an unspoken connection between you both, drawing you closer without a single word.

“I’ll go book two separate rooms for us,” Darlene suddenly announces, giving you a playful knowing look that makes your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

It’s clear what she’s insinuating, and the fact that she said it right in front of Benny makes your face flush even hotter.

You step back from him, your mind swirling with the implications. You’ve always been the good girl, careful and cautious, and now standing so close to him, you’re not sure how to navigate the feelings rushing through you.

As Darlene heads inside to handle the rooms, you stand there awkwardly, feeling a nervous flutter in your stomach.

Benny breaks the tension with an easy smile. “Don’t worry,” he says, his voice low and warm.

“Maybe tomorrow we can grab some breakfast before you get your car sorted?” he suggests, and you can hear the a hint of reluctance in his voice.

His deep blue eyes lock onto yours, filled with the all the unspoken desire that lingers between you both, the weight of what you both want growing stronger, though neither of you says a word.

He steps closer, his chest almost brushing yours as he reaches for his jacket. His fingers graze your skin, starting at your shoulder, the touch slow and deliberate. His fingertips linger just a moment too long as they trail down your arm, sending a wave of heat rushing through you.

His touch ignites something deep inside, a warmth that spreads through your skin, making you ache for more. His movements are unhurried savoring every second of pulling the leather from your body.

As he slides the jacket off, you instinctively wrap your arms around yourself and it’s not just the chill that makes you do it—it’s the sudden vulnerability you feel leaving Benny.

As you look up to him his eyes are darkened with an intensity you’ve never known and in that moment, you’re completely captivated by him, your mind racing with the thought of whether or not you should invite him to stay the night.

Before you can make up your mind, Darlene returns, holding two room keys in her hand.

“Goodnight, boys,” she says with a wink, clearly enjoying the situation far more than you.

“Thanks for the fun,” Cal says, giving Darlene a grin and Benny smoothly pulls on his jacket as Cal mounts his bike.

“Meet you back at the bar,” Cal says with a casual nod, and Benny acknowledges him with a quick gesture before Cal rides off into the night.

Darlene hands you your key with a playful smile. “See you in the morning,” she whispers, the teasing tone unmistakable as she heads toward her room, leaving you standing there, undecided.

Benny’s eyes never leave you as he walks toward his motorcycle.

“I’ll see you tomorrow before you go,” he says, his voice steady and calm, but you can’t shake the lingering feelings you have for him.

You hesitate, watching him as he mounts his bike, and just before he kick-starts it, something inside you shifts. Without thinking, you call out, “Benny, wait!”

He pauses, placing his foot back down as he looks at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah?” He asks his voice is warm and inviting.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you swallow your nerves, glancing down at the key in your hand.

“I was just… thinking,” you begin, your voice soft and shy. “Maybe… you could stay for a little while? I mean, if you’re not too tired.”

Benny dismounts his bike, a confident smile playing on his lips as he approaches. His hand reaches out, gently cupping your chin, tilting your face up until your eyes meet his.

“You sure about that, sugar?” he asks, his voice low and smooth, carrying a hint of challenge.

“Because I’d be more happy to stay, just as long as I know I’m not rushing you into anything.” He confirms his thumb brushing lightly across your chin.

You nod, feeling the warmth of his touch as your nerves begin to fade.

“I’m sure Benny,” you respond with a reassuring smile.

“Alright then,” he says softly, leaning in just enough so you can feel the warmth of his breath on your lips, “Lead the way.”

You grin and head toward your room with Benny following close behind. The sensation of his presence making your heart pound in your chest as the quiet anticipation lingers in the air.

When you unlock the door and step inside, the atmosphere shifts as you look around the quant motel room feeling a quiet intimacy that fills the space.

Benny enters after you, the door closing softly behind him, and he quietly locks it.

As you turn to face him the warmth of Benny’s presence so close makes your heart pound in your chest. His eyes linger on you with an unspoken understanding, as if he already knows what you’re about to say.

You swallow hard, feeling a little self-conscious, before finally admitting,

“I… I’ve never done anything like this before.”

Benny’s smile widens, his blue eyes lighting up with a mixture of affection and amusement.

“I know,” he says softly, his voice as smooth as velvet.

There’s something about the way he says it, the gentle confidence in his words, that makes your heart beat faster causing your face to flush.

He reaches out, brushing the back of his hand lightly against your cheek, his touch sending a wave of warmth through you.

His gaze is intense, filled with affection and something deeper—something that has you both nervous and thrilled all at once.

He leans in until his lips hover just near yours, the space between you charged with anticipation and then he kisses you. His lips press on yours soft, and unhurried savoring every second.

His hand gently cups your face with his lips warm against yours, each subtle kiss leaves you completely captivated, your breath catching as the arousal begins to stir deep inside.

His tenderness makes you feel lightheaded, completely drawn into him, completely lost. And then, just as you begin panting into his mouth he pulls away leaving you lightly trembling with your lips still warm from his touch.

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he speaks in that smooth, deep voice of his.

“Why don’t you get out of those wet clothes for me sugar?” he suggests softly, his tone gentle but firm, as if he’s already certain you’ll listen to him.

You look up to him and hesitate for a brief moment, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks, but there’s something about the way he says it that makes you nod quietly.

There’s no pressure, no urgency in his voice—just a gentle suggestion, and you find yourself readily obeying him.

You look up at him through your lashes, feeling both shy and cautious as you pull down the sleeves of your damp dress.

Benny leans back against the door, watching you with a soft smile, his eyes never leaving you for a second.

His gaze isn’t overbearing, or insistent, instead it’s filled with a desire that makes you feel entirely wanted.

“Don’t be shy,” he smiles seeing you pause not letting your dress fall lower than your chest.

His words make your heart flutter, and with a deep breath, you pull your dress down to your waist, hooking your thumbs into your panties and stepping out of them.

As your clothing drops to the floor you kneel down, slipping off your socks and shoes as your bare feet sink into the plush carpet of the room.

You can feel the heat of his gaze as you stand up in front of him. Now completely naked your hands tremble slightly, the cool air mixing with the excitement rushing through your body and you Instinctively look down, too shy to meet his eyes.

“That’s better,” Benny says with approval, stepping closer. You can feel the warmth of his presence as his hand finds yours, pulling you gently to him. His other hand rests lightly on your waist, the simple touch making your heart race all over again.

“Look at me,” he whispers, his fingers softly tilting your chin up, guiding your gaze to meet his and intensity in his blue eyes draws you deeper into the unspoken desire that lingers for him.

“Not like you to fall for someone like me, is it?” he smiles, his hand sliding up your back, pulling you into his embrace.

“Never…” you whisper, your voice barely audible as you look into the depths of his eyes, falling harder for him with each passing second.

“First time for everything,” he whispers, his lips brushing against yours before capturing them in a kiss that melts all your nervousness away in an instant.

His lips are warm and soft as his mouth moves against yours, and this time a soft whimper escapes you as he deepens the kiss.

The simple sound ignites something in Benny, and his lips move against yours with more intensity, drawing you in until you’re completely caught in his rhythm, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

Your hands reach up, clutching his shoulders, desperate for something to anchor you as the intensity of his kiss steals your breath away.

His hands begin to explore you, trailing down your back before settling on your curves, his firm grip igniting a heat that spreads through your core.

You can feel your arousal building, warm and slick between your thighs. Your mind races, trying to keep up with the emotions flooding through you, but all you can focus on is him—his touch, his kiss, the way he makes everything else fade away.

He pulls back just enough for you to catch a small breath, his lips barely an inch from yours and you’re already craving for more.

“You want me?” he asks, his voice low, laced with an edge that makes your heart race even faster.

You nod, unable to speak, your voice caught in your throat as the rush of emotions and desire collide within you.

He grins, seeing the way you tremble, and without breaking eye contact, he shrugs off his jacket pulling up his tee and revealing the hard, sculpted muscles of his chest and abs.

His body is powerful, each line carved and defined, and the sight of him leaves you slack-jawed,

You’ve been wanting to see him like this all night, and now that he stands before you, your eyes widen in delight, taking in every inch of him.

“Don’t be shy,” Benny grins, stepping closer, guiding your hand to his chest. “Feel me,” he urges softly, his voice calm and commanding.

His hand covers yours, encouraging you to explore him and your fingers glide down the hard planes of his abs his muscles flexing slightly under your touch.

The sensation of his strength beneath your fingertips sends a wave of heat rushing through you, making your breath hitch.

He steps back, his eyes never leaving yours, the intensity of his gaze locking you in place as he leans down to unlace his boots to set them aside.

When he stands back up, his gaze is even more intense, every movement deliberate as his fingers undo the button of his jeans making your heart races with anticipation.

He pauses lowering the zipper, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he looks at you, savoring the moment and drawing it out.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” he asks his voice teasing and seductive like velvet as it wraps around you.

“Yes, Benny,” you breathe, your eyes flicking up to his, your chest rising and falling rapidly, charged with desire.

A slow smirk forms on his lips as he watches you, and with a practiced ease, he slides his jeans down exposing his long, hard cock as your eyes go wide.

It’s big — even bigger than you expected, the sheer size overwhelming you.

You chest tightens with nervousness, as you quickly look away feeling the heat rush to your face.

Benny reaches out, gently guiding your chin back to him. “Eyes on me, sugar,” he says, his voice low and commanding as he holds your gaze steady. “This is all for you,” he assures and his words are so certain, they leave you speechless.

He pulls a condom from his jeans and tears it open, drawing your eyes back down to his cock.

With practiced ease, he positions the condom at the tip, his fingers expertly rolling it down over his girth all the way to the base.

The way his cock stands, so heavy and full, sends a throb straight to your core and you try not to stare, but it’s impossible not to.

Your eyes take in every detail, the thickness of it, the way his skin stretches over the veins, how firmly it extends in his grip.

A flicker of nervousness runs through you, the thought of what’s coming next makes your body tense with both excitement and hesitation.

Benny notices the shift in your expression and smiles softly, leaning in close his hands moving to cradle your neck. “We’ll take it as slow” he promises, his voice gentle as he caresses you, his thumbs tracing down the delicate lines of your neck.

You take a deep breath, feeling your heart race from his words as you slowly nod.

He moves gently as he guides you to lay down on the bed, the linen sheets soft against your skin. He follows your movements, his body just above you as he climbs on top, the bed dipping under his weight.

His fingers trace the curve of your cheek, down your neck, and then linger on your waist. He takes his time, letting you feel the warmth of his body as he slowly settles down on top of you.

“You alright?” he asks his voice soft and reassuring as his thumb strokes your hip and his eyes meet yours, filled with a quiet confidence that sets you at ease.

“Yes, Benny,” you nod, finding your voice barely above a whisper and the way you breathe out his name makes his lips quirk into a small smile.

“Good” he says as his hand slides down to your thigh, giving a gentle squeeze.

He leans in close, kissing the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, his lips lingering there, savoring every touch.

He slowly nudges your legs apart, his movements patient and deliberate as his fingers push in between them causing a jolt of to pleasure shoot through your core.

The slickness of your arousal coats his fingers as he slips the them over your folds and he spreads your wetness with soft strokes making moan in pleasure.

His lips brush against your jaw in reverence as he feels how wet you for him, a satisfied hum vibrating through his chest.

His thumb grazes your clit in just the right way, with a teasing pressure making your breath hitch, and he explores further, feeling the tension in your body melt under his touch.

He slips one finger inside feeling your walls adjust and then slowly adds another. He begins stretching you with a slow, gentle rhythm the sensation overwhelming—tight and warm, coaxing deep moans from your lips with each stroke.

The pressure of his fingers inside you builds with every thrust, steady and sure making your whole body arch from the bed, quickening with every gasp that escape from your lips.

His eyes never leave yours, watching your every reaction, every breath, every flutter of your eyelids, memorizing the way you respond to him.

“That’s it sweet heart,” he whispers, his voice like a low purr, as his thumb presses into your clit with just enough pressure to make you moan and tremble beneath him. “Gonna work you open nice and slow for me” he whispers, his breath warm as it mingles with your own.

You can hear your wetness slicking between your thighs as his fingers work a rhythm that feels achingly perfect.

“You ready for me?” he asks as his fingers moving in just the right way, making you arch against him even more as he pushes into you deeper.

You gasp from the depth of his fingers as you hesitate, your body unsure, already overwhelmed by the sensations he’s giving, not certain if you can take any more.

“I-I don’t know if I can,” you manage to say, your voice breathless, trembling under his touch.

Benny presses a slow, tender kiss to your neck, his thumb circling your clit again with practiced ease. “Yes you can sugar,” he whispers, his voice low tempting. “and just so you know with out a doubt, I’m gonna make sure you’re begging for it” he says with certainty.

You feel his fingers begin to work firmer inside of you, each thrust deliberate, coaxing a deeper response from your body. His words a promise, as you begin to moan in pleasure completely unraveling beneath him.

Benny grins, his lips finding your neck as he softly kisses the delicate skin there. “Your starting to feel it aren’t you.“ he hums, his voice affectionate as he moves lower, his lips wrapping around your nipple, sending a new wave of pleasure through your body.

His tongue flicks gently over your sensitive skin, and your body arches instinctively, surrendering to his touch. He sucks gently making you push against him, as his fingers never stop coaxing more of your wetness.

Your body reacts in ways you can’t control, your thighs softly tremble as your chest rises and falls with uneven breaths. Your legs part instinctively under his touch, your thighs slick with the evidence of your desire.

A deep moan escapes your lips as he sucks harder on your nipple, his tongue flicking against you in a way that leaves your body craving more.

Your fingers clutch the sheets, your body writhing under the slow build of pleasure he’s giving. Your hips moving on their own, lifting towards him as your body seeks him out, needing more.

No longer unsure, your desperate for more of him feeling an emptiness you know only he can fill, and you moan for him your chest heaving as the pleasure builds tighter inside you.

“Benny!” You whine feeling all the sensations inside you at once, the warmth starting deep in your core and radiating outward, leaving you flushed and trembling.

Benny stops, his lips hovering over your nipple as he gazes up at you. “You’re ready for me now, aren’t you?” he asks his tone heavy with desire.

“Yes I’m ready,” you quickly pant your body trembling with need.

He wraps his had along the base of his cock and you gasp as you feel his large tip push against you, the size making you softly moan as he uses your wetness to coat it.

“Gonna give you a taste“ he says slipping the tip inside pulling back just enough to make your body pulse with a desperate need for more.

“There you go,” he says, his voice a soothing as he grips your thigh, steadying you. “Feels good doesn’t it?” he breathes.

You can feel his cock twitch in your impossibly tight walls and you nod feeling the pleasure radiating through you racing with the beat of your heart. You want more of him the anticipation almost too much to bear.

“Take me all the way” you say craving it and he responds moving his hands to your hips as he slowly, gently pushes himself forward, inch by inch, guiding his large cock into you until you suddenly cry out, feeling an intense ache.

“Benny!” you whine, trembling as your nails dig into his arms, losing your mind as you feel him stretching you apart. You shudder and moan uncontrollably, pushing against him. “You’re… you’re … my first!” you finally cry out unable to hide your secret anymore feeling like he might break you.

Benny slows his penetration a big smile forming on his lips. “I know, sugar,” he says, his voice like velvet, his words soothing the intensity of the pain building inside you.

“Y-you Knew?” You say in shock and his hand reaches your face stroking your hair back.

“From the moment I laid eyes on you.” He says softly. “The way you looked at me like I could solve every problem in the world.” He grins his eyes soft.

“Why’d you think I went along with what you wanted?” He asks studying your reaction.

Your eyes study his face stunned realizing what you’ve gotten yourself into.

“Benny….… I do want you, I want you so much …but …. I didn’t think it was would hurt so much” you confess and his face lights up as he holds his laugh seeing how serious you are.

“It won’t hurt for long” he says looking at you affectionately. “I promise” he says in a way that eases your worry.

“Just let me take you all the way just like you wanted” he says, his voice sure and you nod swallowing hard.

Your breath hitches and a soft moan escapes your lips as he sinks deeper into you, every inch of him filling you slowly, leaving your body completely at his mercy. You begin panting and he kisses you trying to take your pain.

You’re impossibly tight, squeezing him hard as he pushes into you further, and he brings his thumb to gently stroke your clit, coaxing you to relax. “You’re doing so good” he whispers, his voice velvety and soothing “just relax and let me in.”

You lift your hips instinctively as he slowly fills you up, and you whine through the stretch as your fingers dig into his back.

“That’s it” he whispers. His cock twitches, and you see him bite down on the inside of his lip, holding himself back. It aches in you, but the pain dulls as Benny lets you get used to the fullness inside you.

You softly whimper as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “It’s all gonna feel better now,” he whispers, slowly dragging his cock out of you.

You tilt your hips, opening yourself to accept more of him as he pushes in again, filling you to the hilt.

You moan wrapping your arms around his shoulders burying your face in his neck as his cock pulls back once more. “Just like that,” he praises, his voice deep with satisfaction as he thrusts into you.

He takes you again, and again each time he groans in your ear, his voice filled with satisfaction.

You pull your face from his neck to meet his gaze. His blue eyes lock onto yours as he pulls out and pushes back in, the connection between you intensifying. You hold onto his neck, your fingers digging into his shoulders, feeling the tension in his body as he builds a steady rhythm inside you.

All you can do is moan from the overwhelming sensation as it begins to feel so good it brings tears to your eyes, your pleasure spilling over uncontrollably.

Hearing your moans, he grins, “Gonna make you come now,” he says, moving faster, his pace quickening as his fingers grip your waist, guiding your body as his hips roll against yours, each thrust hitting deeper, more intoxicating.

The pain that once existed is gone, overtaken by the ecstasy of his thrusts. You feel completely satisfied, filled with his thick cock driving into you with purpose. He maintains a quick rhythm, his body pressing into yours as your mind drifts into pure euphoria. You had no idea you could feel this way—so much pleasure flooding every inch of you at once.

You’re moaning freely, the intensity overwhelming as your body begins trembling, your mind lost to the sensations. “There it is,” he pants, snapping his hips against yours, his voice rough with need as you take every inch of him.

Suddenly, you feel it—the wave building deep inside you, tightening your core, making your entire body quake. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your walls fluttering around him as you cry out, completely lost in the moment.

He groans loudly as your body grips him tight, and with one final thrust, he joins you, his release hitting hard as he spills into the condom. His hips jerk against you, his groans mixing with yours as both of you ride out the aftershocks together.

He collapses gently on top of you, his chest rising and falling rapidly against yours, his breath warm on your skin. You lay there, stunned, your body still trembling as you try to catch your breath. The room growing quiet except for the sound of your soft breaths together.

After a few moments, you find your voice, soft and unsure. “Are you ever going to come to Wisconsin or Michigan State?” you ask, your voice small and vulnerable, reeling from what just happened.

He peeks up at you, his blue eyes sparkling with that familiar teasing look. “I’m thinking about never letting you leave Chicago,” he grins and his lips press against yours in a soft kiss, a newfound promise lingering between you both.

He rolls onto his back, pulling you close against him, wrapping his arm securely around you, holding you in place. Your hand rests gently on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. You bury your face against his neck, inhaling deeply, the familiar scent of him soothing you as your eyes flutter closed, and sleep finds you quickly, wrapped in the comfort of Bennys embrace.

The next morning, you awaken, your eyes blinking slowly as you take in the quiet room. The bed beside you is a mess of tangled sheets, and as you sit up, a sudden pang of panic grips your chest. Benny is gone. The absence of his presence makes the room feel colder, emptier, and your heart sinks as the realization settles in.

A soft, saddened sound escapes your lips, barely more than a whisper as you sit there, staring at the rumpled sheets, replaying the night before in your mind. It had felt so real, so intimate—how could he just leave?

“I’m so stupid!,” you mutter under your breath, cursing yourself for letting your guard down, for hoping he’d be there the next day.

Quickly, you throw the covers back and swing your legs over the edge of the bed, a knot of disappointment twisting in your stomach.

You stand up and head straight to the shower, trying to shake off the feeling, but the emptiness you feel clings to you like a shadow.

Once in the shower your body aches, a dull soreness reminding you of everything that happened last night, and as the hot water cascades over your skin, warm tears mix with the water, falling down the drain. No matter how hard you try to stop, you can’t shake the trembling in your body, a mix of emotions overwhelming you.

After what feels like forever, you step out of the shower, wiping the fog from the mirror to reveal your reflection. “Stupid stupid good girl ” you whisper to yourself, the words biting as you turn away from the image in front of you.

You dry off as you head back to the bedroom, slipping into your now-dry clothes, that you realize were placed on the heater as you slept and the sadness lingers.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. Your heart leaps in your chest, pounding wildly as you rush to answer it, ready to spill everything to Darlene. The disappointment, the confusion—all of it.

When you swing the door open, you freeze. There, standing in front of you, is Benny, a soft smile on his lips, holding two bags with breakfast.

The sight of him makes your mouth fall open in shock. For a moment, you can’t believe it—he didn’t leave.

Before you can even process what’s happening, you let out a relieved squeal and jump into his arms, wrapping yourself around him.

Benny chuckles softly, catching you easily as his arms come up to hold you close.

“Aww, sugar,” he murmurs softly, holding you close as you gasp for breath,shaking with emotion trying to hold back tears.

He shushes you gently, his arms strong and comforting as he carry’s you in and sets you down on the bed, his smile warm and reassuring.

”l-I..I thought you left” you choke out.

“I’m right here, baby. I wouldn’t just leave you,” he says softly, kissing the top of your head.

You hug him again, so relieved to have him there. He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes soft and sincere. “I wasn’t going anywhere,” he says gently, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “I just went to grab us some breakfast.”

Benny opens one of the bags, pulling out a breakfast sandwich and handing it to you. Without hesitation, you begin to eat it realizing just how hungry you are. The roller coaster of emotions leaving you famished.

“You were hungry,” Benny smiles, his thumb brushing your cheek as you finish your meal and you rest back on the bed, feeling sated as a sigh escapes your lips.

After a while, Benny glances over at you, a more serious expression softening his features.

“I want you to be my girl,” he says, and you pause, your heart skipping a beat as the words sink in.

“Benny, how?” you ask, your voice soft, a mix of surprise and hope. “You live here, and I’m going back to school at Michigan State after spring break in Wisconsin ”

Benny lays down next to you taking your hand in his.

“I’ll come to Wisconsin,” he says firmly, his eyes locking with yours, filled with sincerity. “Every chance I get, I’ll be there and When you’re back in school, I’ll visit you whenever I can. It won’t be easy, but I’m not letting this go.” He says and his words hit you hard, the weight of them wrapping around your heart.

He’s serious—there’s no teasing or hesitation in his voice now, just a solid promise.

He gently takes your chin in his hand, lifting your face to meet his eyes. “I’ll even go with you to Wisconsin now if you’ll have me,” he says softly, sincerity and warmth flooding his voice.

Your eyes light up with excitement, as an overwhelming joy fills you. Without a second thought, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss, full of emotion.

“Yes, Benny!” you exclaim breathlessly against his lips, your heart swelling with happiness. He grins, pulling you close as he returns the kiss, his arms tightening around you.

The thought of taking him to your hometown, spending two weeks together, fills you with so much excitement that you’re practically shaking.

You rest against him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest, your heart full and content. Benny’s your boyfriend now, and everything feels right—exactly how it’s supposed to be.

🏍️ The End 🏍️

🔗 Master List

🏍️ Benny Cross Tag List 🏍️

@ashleybutler @finley-08 @ifuckindontknow @landlockedmermaid77 @jvanilly @oceanablue @12joeywheelerfangirl @autumnleaves1991-blog @presley1992 @rose-deathman @sillylittlethrowaway @lillypink @faephoria @nostalgichoya

🏷️ Always Tags Me List 💌

@purejasmine @faegoddessog @burnthheparaphilia @lindszeppelin @abswifey @ausssbutlershortstories @magicovento @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @thegabbyh @thefallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @unicoreads @lovereadingfanfic @elvismylove04 @denised916 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @meetmeatyourworst @avidreader73 @jkdaddy01 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @majestyjade @gravesdiggergirl

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alexiswritingstuff · 5 months ago

Text

Everyone can heal.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Gn!reader

Summary: Logan falls asleep in the day room at Xavier's school, you accidently startle him awake and end up getting hurt.

Genre: hurt/comfort.

Warnings: mentions of blood, and descriptions of wounds, mentions of nightmares.

This is the first time that I am writing in a while, so I hope this isn't just straight up terrible.

A/n: this if my first fic for Logan, so like I usually say when writing for a new character, I may not have portrayed him in an accurate way. There might be parts that seem out of character and such, so please keep that in mind while reading!

Anyway, I've watched the X-men movies since I was a kid. And after watching the new Deadpool and Wolverine movie I was put right back at square one. So, here you go!

I hope you enjoy!!

Logan masterlist.

It had been a long few days.

It was one of the first weeks that you had actually tried to be a professor. Of some sort.

Now, generally, you weren't exactly the kind of person that worked well with kids. It was a lack of experience on your end, as you hadn't gotten the chance to grow up with much others.

But you wanted to learn. Or... did.

The main fault was that you had forgotten to weigh your personal life, more so the things you needed, alongside being a professor in a school.

See, there were a few things that you didn't know about your abilities beforehand. Charles managed to bring some to light, and in turn, you had to figure out how to use them: Incorporate them into your training, into your fighting skills.

It was a lot to relearn. And you misjudged just how much it was going take it out of you.

Though, you didn't seem to be the only one.

Logan was practically in the same boat. Maybe even a little worse. I mean, he was good with kids, but working with them was different, especially when it's a whole group of them at a time. He even bailed on his own classes once. Or twice... could’ve been more.

But you couldn't exactly blame him.

This was the man that barely stayed a week anyway. He was always leaving, whether it was for a bar or something else, you didn't know unless you went with him.

He wasn't used to it yet. The change of being alone, pretty much all the time, to suddenly being surrounded by a boat load of people 24/7. It was understandable. Especially to you, which is probably why you had got to know him so well.

It was the end of the day. The sun was tucked far beneath the horizon, blanketing your part of the earth in a complete darkness. Minus the slight light pollution.

The hallways of the schools were empty at this time, each kid, hopefully, getting a good night's sleep for the next day of learning. But you could never be sure when it came to the teenagers.

It meant that there were less things in the surrounding area for the sound of your footsteps to bounce off. And that, combined with the size of the archways themselves, allowed the echoes to ring a lot longer than needed.

You were on your way back to the day room, having made a quick stop by the kitchen to get more sodas in order to soothe the joint annoyance of having a lack of beer.

It was where the two of you usually set up for quiet moments like these. There wasn't really anywhere else to go, unless you wanted to be stuck in an empty classroom, or have to sit on a freezing bench. And neither of you had an interest in being near a bed.

The most important factor about the day room, however, was that it had a TV. Which just so happened to be the first thing you heard after passing through the final corridor.

It was distant, set at a cautious volume. It must've been one of those talk shows, or maybe some kind of sitcom, as a chorus of laughter would erupt after almost every sentence said.

Either way, it didn't really matter. It had only been put on for background noise. A sound that would carry the silence whenever the two of you had stopped talking, unsure of what to bring up next.

Though, it seemed it had worked a little too well.

The last time you got a look at Logan, he had resumed his usual position. He was upright, back pressed firmly into the sofa as if he were trying to meld with it, and leant against the palm of his hand that had his elbow digging into the armrest.

Your feet halted in a matter of seconds of turning into that doorway. Your tongue was curled in your mouth, lips parted and remaining so, as your eyes had landed back on the man.

He was lying in the opposite direction. His body was sprawled across the length of the couch, though his feet were cursed to hang loosely over the edge. His muscles looked tense, regardless of the usual relief that sort of position was supposed to give a person. But that wasn't the interesting part.

His eyes were closed.

At this point the condensation on the bottles had begun to grow into little drops of water, joining together, one by one, before leaking onto your skin.

Your steps were slow, testing each of the floorboards beneath your shoes to avoid the ones that creaked like an old door.

Logan wasn't a person who got tired easily. It was part of his mutation, that of which you had learned very quickly, but apparently it had manifested into thinking that he couldn't even feel it at all. I guess you were wrong.

Though, in his defence, he may not have even meant to fall asleep when he closed his eyes.

Eventually, you had made it to the edge of the couch. There was a side table on each end of it, the safest and the closest option regardless of the fact his shoed feet were almost right above it.

You took one of the bottles in your free hand, making sure that your grip was just right, before beginning the descent to the table.

You held your breath, narrowed gaze flickering consistently from the eventual destination to the sleeping man. The concentration had even caused your tongue to poke through your teeth as you took about a step closer--

And then bam.

Right as the bottom of the bottle had touched down on the wood, this sudden guttural sound rippled through the air. It had you stumbling backwards, gaping in the direction of the continued noise that sounded like fear itself.

In front of you, now, was not the same sleeping man. In fact, this man was sat up, though almost hunched over most of his body. His arms were raised, aimed straight ahead, and that happened to be right at you.

“Whoa-- hey!”

He was heaving. Each breath taken almost shook his entire body. And the noises... They were almost like growls.

They were so deep and harsh as they pushed out of his throat one after the other, but his inhales were somehow even worse. It was like all the air in the room had suddenly dissipated.

It wasn't until you heard the seams of the couch starting to rip that you realised his claws were even out, the ends just about digging into the pillows beside him.

“Logan, hey, it's me, okay? Look,” you attempted to call, trying to lower your head so that he could properly meet your eyes, “Look, it's me!” And then he did. He saw you, even if It took a moment for it to actually kick in.

He was still heaving, his gaze was fierce and his eyebrows never eased. He had even slightly choked on a breath on its way out.

But you saw the way he had slightly leaned back. There was a relief within the swirl of other emotions.

Until his gaze lowered.

Now, at some point in the past few minutes, the other bottle in your hand had been discarded. It most likely hit the edge of your shoe, sending it to roll off into some corner of the room where it would be forgotten about until morning... But it hadn't smashed.

So, why did something sound like it was dripping?

“Y/n.”

By the time your eyebrows had furrowed in confusion, Logan had hurriedly shoved himself up from the couch, his claws shrinking back between his knuckles within seconds. “Shit.”

You were lost. The sudden switch in atmosphere had you just standing there, fixated on the man that was moving towards you with this look on his face. Similar to one of guilt.

“Logan?” You had barely gotten the name out before you suddenly felt a hand on your arm. Your head snapped in its direction, lips parting so that you could ask what the hell was going on. And then he slightly tilted your arm.

There was your answer. “Oh.”

Three marks. There were three lines etched diagonally into your arm, one deep enough that it led the pooling blood to trickle down your skin. How did you not feel that?

“Fuck,” Logan's hand was careful. His fingers were light and gentle as they grazed the side of your arm. Hesitant. His breaths were getting louder again. “I'm…”

“I'm sorry,” he attempted, his voice barely escaping as a whisper, “I'm so sorry.”

His eyebrows were more furrowed than they were before. The rest of his face was sort of scrunched up too, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Or he was disgusted by it.

“Logan,” You tried placing your hand on his closest wrist, but he immediately retracted. He let go of your arm, “Hey, look, I'm fine, okay?” you started louder, more insistent, “It doesn't hurt.”

Logan shook his head for a moment. He took a slight step backwards, his stance heavy. His eyes never moved. “I'm sorry.”

He grunted, the frown taking over his lips deepening for just a moment before his torso twisted. He grabbed the neck of the successfully placed soda, and then just walked around you.

“No, wait,” You tried to reach out, wanting to grasp his arm or even the fabric of his top, but he swerved, completely avoiding you, “Logan?”

You couldn't even make another attempt as if your other hand was away for longer, more blood would end up dripping on the floor. So, your body turned, desperate eyes following the man in a way that was more of a plea than anything else.

But he never looked back. He continued walking through the doorway, rubbing hard against his temples with a final grunt before disappearing behind the wall.

~~~

The time, at this point, was unclear. The clocks in this school were usually around the learning areas, mostly in the classrooms, which created a sort of guessing game anywhere else.

It was apparent, however, that the sun had just begun to rise. Peeking over the horizon enough so that a bright mist seeped into most of the corridors.

You found yourself back in the hallways. There wasn't a very clear reason as to why than this inability to sit. A failure to be still for seconds at a time, regardless of the tiredness that had started to cling to your skin.

But that was the last thing on your mind.

You kept thinking about it; the previous encounter. It was sort of plaguing your mind, more so how you handled it.

Granted, it was in fact your first time having to deal with a situation like that, and usually you were on the other side. Though this seemed different, like something had just been exposed.

You were aware of the fact that Logan had nightmares. I mean, it was one of the most believable things about him, considering the things he'd gone through. The extent, however, was undetermined.

Until today.

A huff of air sifted through your lips as you attempted to straighten your spine, stretch the accompanying muscles that had grown tense over the past few hours.

The aimless walking was almost nice. The surroundings were mostly quiet, excluding the wind that whistled against the glass of the windows, having picked up some time earlier.

It was that time of year again. The group of months where the weather grew cold and the plants began to change. It almost made the school feel cosy even if there was no heating in the hallways.

In fact, where you were now was the coldest, and it wasn't until you looked up properly that you realised you were about to walk into a dead-end.

Slowly, your feet came to a stop, your lazy eyes blinking hastily in the blaring yellow light, which was starting to mix into this sort of orange.

Your shoulders lowered, a sense of relief filtering through your system as the decision had been final. You were going to go to your room, maybe even get to lay down for a few hours until it was time to teach.

So, you turned on your heel, taking about a step in the other direction as your blurry eyes attempted to focus on the closest doorway, until you could note the surroundings. It was the kitchen.

Now, that door was always open, usually swung all the way back and held by a stopper. But a light was on. Allowing you to properly get a view of the room and what was in it.

More so who.

Your movements had halted right as you were about to take another step.

Logan.

He was sitting at the narrow table at the back, set between the array of windows. His elbows were against the surface of it, one of his hands clasped around a bottle he had just set down. He swallowed, and so did you.

There was an initial pause, seconds taken to calculate the right decision, before you went in. Your lips parted, ready to release the script you had gone over in your head for the last hour--

“I didn't mean to hurt you.”

Instead, you were frozen. The volume of his voice, and the angle he sat at, almost made it seem like the words didn't even come from him. He probably heard you before you had even come down the hall.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Logan–” you tried, but his mouth opened before you could even finish, “Just let me talk,” He hadn't moved. He was in the same position, still holding the bottle, and staring straight forward like there was someone there across from him. “Okay?”

You brought your lips together, placing a hand on the kitchen island to distribute your weight. Logan took the silence as acceptance and he cleared his throat. “I'm sure you already know,” he had begun, sparing the slightest glance your way for confirmation that didn't even need, “about the... nightmares.”

It was as if something in his mouth went sour when he said it, like the words itself tasted bad.

“Some are about the past, you know-- bits and pieces of it, anyway, but…” Logan paused for a moment, both verbally and physically. It only held for a few seconds. And then he sighed. “There are other ones too- Ones... ones where people get hurt, and, I'm…”

“I'm the one doing it.” It was a slow movement, an action that looked like it had to be forced, as Logan suddenly began turning in his seat. He met your eyes with a look that had your eyebrows furrowing all over again, “I'm the one hurting people.”

“Y/n, I'm sorry.”

“Logan,” you started, shaking your head in disagreement with the apology, but he only repeated it. “I'm so sorry.”

You made your way to the edge of the island, pace slowing once round the corner, “Hey,” Logan's gaze had shifted as you moved. It was lower, directed at a specific point. He was looking at your arm.

It had been engulfed by a layer of, hopefully, the appropriate bandaging. An attempt at following the tips Jean had given you from previous injuries.

But it being covered somehow made it seem worse than it was.

“Hey, look at me,” you called, stopping at a good place where you were actually in front of him, yet still a good distance away so he wouldn’t want to back off. “Look at me.”

The next words only left your lips when he had finally decided to comply. “I'm fine.” you assured, the tone of your voice much lighter than before. But that made the look on Logan's face shift, “I hurt you.”

“It was an accident,” Your response was quick, your voice making it sound so simple. Like the sentence said should’ve been accompanied by a shrug of the shoulders. Logan didn't like that, “Accident or not, I still hurt you, Y/n.” His tone was riddled with this disbelief, as if he couldn't believe that he had to tell you that in the first place.

“And, I'm still here, Logan.”

You didn't understand it. The two of you had trained together many times, each round ending with either one receiving a new injury until your skills developed. Hell, you had been in battle together.

A little scratch was nothing. “It was a mistake-- my mistake. I'm the one who startled you, shit like this happens.” you tried to assure. Logan scoffed immediately, “What-- Does that make it magically okay for me to hurt people?”

“No!” you huffed out, the ability to contain your annoyance dwindling the more he challenged your statements. “No, okay? But-- You know, what-- Look.”

You took a few more steps, the care for all of the previous caution going completely out the window as you grasped an end of the bandaging, and unwinded the material before pulling back the padding beneath.

“See?”

Logan almost looked like he had buffered for a few seconds. He blinked, and then again, and then twice really fast, as if it would change what was in front of him. His hand had even flexed, like he wanted to reach it out, though it remained on the table.

They were gone. Each mark, each line that was carved into the skin had completely gone. Disappeared without a trace. There wasn't even a scar.

“You…” He spoke slowly, his eyes trailing up the length of your arm to your shoulders. And then your face. “You can regenerate?”

“Granted, a little... Well, a lot slower than you-- But, yeah.” you confirmed, wrapping the bandage up in your hands before placing it on the kitchen aisle behind you.

Logan leaned back slightly in a way that straightened his up spine. He brought his legs from under the table and set them in the direction the rest of his body was facing. He had turned right towards you.

“Are you serious?” The complete deadpan had you staring right back at him. You couldn't read the expression, nor the stance. You didn't even know what to call it. “Yep.” You blinked. Logan didn't move a muscle, “You can heal.”

Now, you could hear it in his voice. It wasn't just a statement, a form of repetition to clarify the new information. He was getting mad.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “I... I don't really know what else you want me to say.” Which was the truth, the whole healing thing was one of the things you had discovered with Charles.

It's an entirely different process than it is for most anyway, let alone when it comes to Logan. At the moment you actually had to activate the process for anything to heal. But you were working on it.

I guess it just slipped your mind.

“So, you were just willingly acting like a damn damsel?” The lines around his eyebrows deepened the way they usually did when he was getting angry. And they weren't stopping.

“A damsel?” you repeated, even tilting your head as a wordless question, and he just nodded. “You stood there. You just stood there until I came to you-- You didn't even try to stop the bleeding. Hell, did you even notice?”

That look on his face never changed. You hated it. The way it darkened his eyes, or tensed the surrounding muscles. The most bothersome thing, however, was the fact that it was aimed at you. “No,” you started, this time with a deeper voice. “No, I didn't-- You know, why?”

“Why?” Logan commanded, the veins around his neck becoming apparent. It was as if he was trying to win an argument, get the upper hand and serve some kind of justice, like you had done something wrong.

He was supposed to be relieved.

“Maybe, it's because that was the last thing I cared about, Logan!”

The two of you were just staring at each other. At this point, both of you were almost heaving, the past few minutes taking the air out of both pair of lungs.

The expression on Logan's face twitched for a moment, a crack in the anger that usually wasn't breakable. His posture had become more of a slouch as he suddenly decided to lean back a little, like before.

You watched with curious eyes when he then sighed, breaking the held gaze to grab his bottle of soda and bring it to his lips.

It all resembled a puzzle. A constant attempt to find the right piece, the right thought, that would fit it all together. But there was a lack of progress. You were at a loss.

Was he mad that you didn't tell him? Was he actually mad that you didn't do anything about the scratches? Were you reacting the wrong way? Did he want you to hate him? Were you supposed to?

Or did he think that you couldn't grasp the situation? The severity. The big 'What if?' Maybe he was in fact tired.

Just a different kind.

You started to move after another few seconds, the sound of your shoes against the tiles piercing through the layer of created silence. It was apparent that Logan was watching, albeit discreetly, following what he could as he took another swig.

Your movements concluded by the length of the table he was sitting at. You leaned onto it, releasing that weight that had started aching both your knees and your feet from standing for so long.

By the time your eyes were back on Logan, his own had snapped away.

You took in a deep breath of the cold air, feeling it hit the back of your throat, your shoulders deflating, “I get them too, you know... Nightmares.”

There was a beat of silence again. A lack of movement, or reaction. And then he met your eyes again. Slower this time, almost hesitant. He set his drink down ,listening. So, you continued, “I wouldn't go about comparing them,”

“But, I understand enough to know what it's like.”

Logan sort of huffed a laugh after that. Not a malicious one, or in disbelief of the sentiment. He was acknowledging it. “You shouldn't have to.”

He was back to that whisper of a voice again. It was still deep, and a tad gravely, almost forceful. But it conveyed enough. “Neither should you.. yet,” you paused, shrugging your shoulders, “Here we are.”

This time, the huffed laugh was louder. More pronounced in a way. It left a mark on his lips, leaving them curling at the corners. It fit right in. You wanted it to stay. Maybe a little too much, “At least, now, I get to say that I was attacked by The Wolverine and survived.”

The comment was a little dangerous, especially if taken the wrong way. In all honesty, your eagerness allowed it to be blurted right through your lips before you could catch it.

But Logan practically snorted. “Shut up.” he breathed, bringing the soda back to his lips. You pretended that you didn’t hear him, even crossing your arms over your chest, though a grin had slightly appeared, “I could even say that I defeated him.”

In about a second his eyes had snapped to yours, a singular brow rising as the bottle smacked onto the surface of the table, “Okay,” He swallowed, “you did not defeat me, bub.”

“Oh, really?” you challenged, attempting to mimic his expression. “You were done after one move.”

Logan pushed the chair with his back in a way that had the legs screeching against the tiles. He stood from it, moving about a step to the side before continuing towards you.

“I was distracted.” he pointed out, gaze narrow as his eyebrows decided to furrow in an attempt to support his justification. “Excuses, excuses,” was all you said, accompanying it with a light shrug.

Logan was right in front of you now. He was close, about a step away. Though, the longer he looked at you, his eyes scanning across the skin of your face, that amusement once held had begun to fade.

He became sort of serious, the tension making the lines of his face more prominent all over again as his lips curved into more of a frown.

“I don't want it to happen again.” He was avoiding your eyes now, his own gaze cast downward. They were following his hand as he had brought it to your arm, the fingers of which ghosting across where the marks had been like he could still see them.

“Logan,” you started, your voice quiet yet loud enough that his attention was recovered. The two of you were looking at each other again, this time properly. Your features eased, all of the concern and the previous anger completely melting away.

You brought the hand of your previously injured arm upward, and he watched it until it went out of his vision.

You gently placed your hand on the side of his cheek, your palm pressing into the hair of his mutton chops which brought his gaze back to yours. And then you smiled lightly, just enough that he could see it, “Even if it did, I am not going anywhere.”

There was this quick twitch in Logan's expression. A split second of movement that had almost gone unnoticed until it happened again. His eyebrows pinched together.

Before you could say a word, he had suddenly pulled you forward, away from the table you were once against.

By the time you were up straight, his arms had wrapped around your body one after the other, entrapping you in this warmth that the kitchen could never achieve. It had you copying him as fast as you could, letting your hands land across the skin of his back and the fabric of the tank top.

Logan's head was planted on your shoulder, his hair sort of tickling the side of your face as he tucked himself in further.

His body slightly deflated after a moment, a sort of gravelly hum of content rumbling from his throat. He obviously wasn’t putting his entire weight on you, the two of you would've tipped over within seconds. But you could feel it.

An extra weight that you were glad to carry.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x gn reader #wolverine #wolverine x gn!reader #gender neutral reader #hurt/comfort

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just-a-ghost00 · 3 months ago

Text

Pick a kpop song and I'll tell you who is having naughty thoughts of you [18+]

Minors do not interact. This is part 1 of a series of 3 posts. We will try to get a bunch of details that will help us identify this person. This will be a lengthy reading, so I may have to publish several posts. If that's the case, I will write down the link to the other parts so that you don't get lost.

Slow it down make it bouncy ~

Threads of fate oracle cards | The Void, Underworld, Patience, Fate

This person may be someone you share a very special connection with. One that is very intimate, and that doesn't mean that you necessarily had physical contact with this person. You are very close with this person, closer than you've ever been with anyone else because you know things about each other that no body knows. That's the intimacy I'm talking about. Another thing I am picking up on is linked to the egg represented on the fate card. It reminded me of the drama series "Alchemy of Souls". In the series, Naksu/Mudeok and Jang Uk share a "private joke" about birds and their eggs. Jang Uk compares Mudeok to a fragile egg that was left alone at the top of a tree and that needs to be taken care of and protected at all costs to be able to survive and see the light of day. Thus, he compares himself to a surrogate bird mom charged of watching over that egg until it can soar high in the sky. This comparison may be significant to you and this person. The dynamic of the two characters overall may be similar to the one you share with this person. Jang Uk and Naksu/Mudeok both need each other desperately at first and their relationship is mainly one based on a mutual accord to take advantage of the other's position and skills, as they're aware they have no other option but to cooperate to reach their personal goals. But the more the plot progresses, the closer they get and the more special their bond becomes. With the combination of Void, Underworld and Patience, I really get that vibe of two people that were forced by external circumstances to meet each other and learn to cooperate because they have a common destiny. In doing so, they have to learn patience and to face their shadows while keeping their relationship hidden. This feeling of secrecy comes off very strongly. If you know this person, you may not be in contact with them at the moment and whatever happened between the two of you is a secret that both of you share. I also got the message that either one of you could be a psychic. The purpose of that person then may be to awaken the other's psychic potential. We will get further details with two different decks to see if these intuitions are further confirmed. In terms of zodiac signs, I was mainly picking up on Scorpio but there may be other signs that come up later on in the reading.

White Numen Tarot cards | page of swords, 7 of cups, 2 of cups, page of pentacles, knight of wands, Black Numen, back of the deck Moon

In terms of zodiac signs, we have the following being represented : Scorpio, Cancer, Leo, Pisces, Gemini, Virgo. I am getting a clearer picture of who this person could be and what is going on between you. I am shown that they are close to you in age and in energy. Their path and maturity when it comes to their spirituality is similar to yours. This is a person that tends to mirror you. You could have met this person at a time in your life where you were feeling a bit lost or unsure about your future. This was a turning point in your life and it was also the case for this person. I get a perfect place perfect timing vibe from this spread. You or they may be a student. You learn a lot from each other. Though you are very similar, your differences allow you to grow drastically and question your beliefs. This is a person that you may feel very attracted to on a physical level. This person may have several centers of interest that keep them busy. You may be contacting them a lot using social media. You could have met them through travelling or they could come from a different culture. With the energy of the Moon I get the message that this person may have brought a lot of old stuff to the surface when you met them. Fears you thought you had overcome. Worries about the past and future. They could also be someone you dream about a lot and/or a person you met at night. This person definitely is linked to you through the force of karma. Your souls knew of each other before. As for the type of bond you share, I feel like putting a label on it wouldn't be relevant. What you need to know is that this meeting happened for a reason and that you felt it coming. You knew right away that this person would play an important role in your journey, and they probably felt it too.

Crystals oracle cards | Meteorite, Citrine, Moonstone, back of the deck Tourmalined Quartz

First of all, I feel compelled to mention the colors that were associated with these cards. Soft browns, beige and pastel purples/pinks seem to be relevant. What comes first to mind is how soft this person can be. I will know focus on each card individually as some details on those caught my attention.

Meteorite - Connect to your "star stuff" : this card mentions that meteorite comes in three forms and that people who may need to work with their energy are "children of the stars". The majority of the messages revolved around cosmic and galactic energy. This made me think that this person could spend a lot of time stargazing or looking at the clouds as a way to feel connected with you. And you may be doing the same. The other thing I was picking up on is that maybe your souls come from the same original place. If you believe in concepts such as starseeds, light language and such, this may resonate with you. I also thought of Saint Exupery's The Little Prince.

Citrine - Manifest your masterpiece : this card revolved around dreams and artistic endeavors, of doing everything in your power to manifest your wildest dreams. So you and this person may have a common creative project that you work on, a common goal or dream that you talked about. This may be the secret we were mentioning in the beginning. (I also heard "in the beninging" from that meme lmao so maybe you share a lot of private jokes and memes)

Moonstone - Find your natural rythm : this card mentioned travelling as well as star gazing. So your person may travel a lot in their daily life. It's a stone ment to increase empathy and intuition among other things. So it wouldn't be surprising if this person was a healer in blooming, a natural empath. I also got the message that they were incredibly sensual. Taurus energy came in strongly here.

Tourmalined Quartz - Restore your perfect light : with this card I was told that your person is often surrounded by a lot of people whom may not have the best intentions towards them. A lot of people look up to them but also envy them and wish for them to fail. Your person may be struggling with impostor syndrome as well as social anxiety.

All these cards combined lead me to believe that the person we are talking about is someone that is quite popular and radiates a lot of light and love around them. They have a pure heart and soul, are very loving and generous but may face a lot of backlash and challenges, because their light tends to trigger people's shadows. This may be something that questioned them and made them think they were a bad person, or that maybe they deserved to be treated badly. This may be something that you have struggled with as well. Which would explain why your paths crossed.

In another reading, we may be enquiring about the content of this person's thoughts and maybe why you met them. I hope that this reading was insightful and helped you figure out who this person was. I would be more than happy to get your feedback in the comments. Stay tuned to get the tea about this person ~

Mr. Rover, I'm coming over ~

Threads of fate cards | back of the deck The Void, Death, The Alchemist, The Explorer

This is really interesting. Your energy may be tied to group 1 as well. If you hesitated between the two groups, you may want to check out group 1's reading. With the Void card, I am told that you are not in contact with this person. They likely live at a distance from you. Sometimes, you may feel like you and this person are worlds apart and that there is no way you could understand each other. Yet, you do. You are polar opposites. And everything may look like you wouldn't match. However, this person gets you like no other. With this spread I am picking up on fixed sign energy mainly, especially Scorpio and Aquarius, as well as Pisces. The Alchemist card makes me think that this person could be a tarot reader or at least they are interested in forms of divination. Butterflies and stars seem to be relevant to this connection. The Explorer card denotes an energy of being restless, feeling like you don't belong where you are and wanting to broaden your horizons. Both you and this person may have connected over the feeling of being different from the rest of your community, of feeling like where you are isn't what's meant for you and more is waiting elsewhere. Of feeling like your body is too small for you. Like you are not truly comfortable in your skin and wish you were something or someone else. You both may have struggled with anxiety and severe depression. You both may have gone through a dark night of the soul. You both are good manifesters and have big ambitions. You both tend to uproot belief systems and push yourselves beyond your limits because you have a deep desire and need for expansion. You could have met this person while travelling, this travel could have been an unconscious one. Meaning, you could have met this person in the 5D before you met them in person. For some of you, you don't know this person yet. But you feel them energetically. Especially, if you practice meditation or lucid dreaming. We will get further information with two more decks. Hopefully, this could confirm what we've been talking about for now. I also get the message that both of you could have the capacity to communicate with spirits/ghosts. Another thing that could have brought you together could be the passing of a person. This is very specific, but for some of you I get the message that the spirit of a loved one interfered in your favor to get you to meet this person. They did so with the hope that it would help you cope with their passing.

White Numen Tarot cards | back of the deck High Priestess, Queen of cups, 8 of pentacles, Hierophant, knight of pentacles, 9 of wands, White Numen

Taurus energy is heavily present here, as well as Leo and Scorpio. So fixed sign energy definitely. With the High Priestess, this person is definitely into the occult and likely to have psychic abilities. This is a person that gives off a very mysterious vibe. They are very secretive and closed off, they mind their own business and don't share their secrets with just anyone. They are very protective of their space because they just know how people's envy can sometimes affect the outcome of their manifestations. This person is highly intuitive and sensitive. They are caring and nurturing. A natural healer. They have a lot of feminine energy that they gladly share. They are dedicated, hard working, patient. This is a person that doesn't give up easily. The word "failure" is not a part of their vocabulary. This person is determined to win and learn no matter what. This person is aware that whatever outcome they get, they will always be victorious one way or another. This is a person that is traditional but also very spiritual, they are well educated and incredibly wise. They could be a teacher or a mentor of some sort. They are extremely cautious and may sometimes be slow to act. But you can be sure that whatever this person does, they will reach their goal. They like to create and work with the Universe. They follow their path slowly but surely, one step at a time and make sure that they learn their lesson. This is a person that understands how the Universe works and goes with the flow. They are not afraid to take a turn or face struggles because they know that at the end of the day, they will get what's right for them and meant for them. They have a lot of confidence and inner knowing that allows them to navigate life peacefully. People could say that this person is married to their work because of how dedicated they are. They are loyal to a fault and are not the kind to abandon people out of the blue. They are very respectful of others and always try to include everyone. This person is also naturally beautiful and sensual. They instantly make you feel safe and understood. You may have met this person in a work or educational setting. Again, for this group I am getting a very fated meeting. Your energies were aligning way before you met. And this person may have consciously manifested you into their life.

Crystal oracle cards | back of the deck Epidote, Libyan Gold Tektite, Malachite, Kunzite

Right off the bat I get a very charming, exotic vibe from this person. Most of these stones are mined in hot countries, especially African ones. The colors also felt very sensual. They kinda reminded me of Egypt and Cleopatra specifically. This person could be a history nerd. They could be of African descent. I will focus on each card individually to point out certain details that caught my attention.

Epidote - Upgrade your version of you : this stone is mentioned as the "get what you give" stone. Which highlights this person's spiritual nature and generosity. This is a person that works on themselves a lot, that constantly tries to be better and do better. They have a bit of a workaholic attitude.

Libyan gold tektite - Banish your "blahs" : this stone forms in the Sahara desert. So this person could have North African to Central African origins, especially Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, Libya, Egypt. This peron is goal oriented and pretty stubborn. When they have something in mind, it's hard to get them to change their point of view. Sometimes this person can exhaust themselves pretty quickly because of how hard they work. They tend to work extremely hard at a high frequency very early on and thus burn their energy very quickly.

Kunzite - Open up your love channel : they have trust issues because of past relationships. They tend to be hard on themselves and blame themselves for past failures when in reality they were not responsible for what happened. They tend to put others' needs first and forget their own. This person is very loving and can sacrifice themselves in the name of love.

Malachite - Claim your success : this person is humble. They may tend to bring themselves down or attribute their success to others because they may feel like they don't deserve recognition. They have a very altruistic nature. They are very creative but have a hard time following through with their ideas. They tend to be all over the place sometimes, especially if they've been giving a lot of their time and energy to others.

With the combined energy of all these cards, I picture a woman with a motherly nature, that tends to be the mom of the group. Someone very discreet and quiet that always encourages others and shows affection through acts of service. Someone that can do benevolant work just for the sake of giving. A person that is very sensitive to people's struggles. The kind of person that would cry seeing an animal being hurt and out in the streets. The kind of person that would give out their clothes and money to a person in need. A person that was raised in a religious household and taught to never look down on people and never forget where they came from. Someone from a modest family that rose up to success through their hard work and strong inner belief. A person that has a strong moral compass and lives according to their principles, regardless of what people may think of them. Someone that, because of this mentality, tends to be alone and has a hard time connecting with other people.

I'm the charmer ~

Threads of fate oracle cards | back of the deck Paradox, Love, Self Love, Play

The person we are talking about is someone that may confuse you a lot. With this Paradox card, I get a Star vibe from it, which reminds me of Aquarius. So this person could have Aquarius as one of their main signs. This also tells me that you could have met this person online or if you met in person, your main mean of communication is the Internet. I also get the vibe of someone being a bit popular and very busy with their work and hobbies. This person could be very active on social media and thus investing in many projects with different people. The spread also gives me a feeling of two friends walking on the line of romance. The lines may be blurred with this person. At some moment you may feel like they only perceive you as a friend but other times things they say or do may make you question their feelings for you. And this could actually be because this person is feeling the same toward you. I feel like both of you aren't sure of what the other means to you and what you want out of this connection. This could be a FWB situation or just a mutual crush that both of you kind of ignore for some reason. Peacocks and dolphins may be significant signs. Overall, I get the vibe that you and this person get along very well and have a lot of fun with each other. No matter the distance or the time spent apart, whenever you see this person again or interact again, it always feels like you never really were separated. It's like the last time you spoke was yesterday, even if you may have been in a no contact situation for decades. The affection you have for each other is never dying off. I get a very good vibe from this spread and this person. This is someone who's intensions are pure and loving. I kinda get a starcrossed lovers vibe from this group. But more importantly, I feel like the main reason why this person is special to you is beacause they are a part of your soul tribe. This is someone that uplifts you and supports you no matter what, though you may be complete opposites and have different opinions about the world. This person just respects you deeply and appreciates you for who you are. I pick up on a lot of affection and gratitude for each other. It's like both of you only truly feel at peace with one another. Not only does this person give you love but they also gently nudge you into loving yourself more instead of constantly nurturing others. When both of you are interacting, a lot of healing is happening. One thing that may really help you identify this person, I feel, is that this is someone you share a lot of laughter with. You may have a lot of private jokes, secret codes that only you know of, memories of deep conversations that you couldn't have had with anyone else. Honestly this really gives me a best friends to lovers vibe. I also pick up on Pisces energy.

White Numen tarot cards | back of the deck Judgement, Hierophant, Emperor, 2 of pentacles, 5 of pentacles, 5 of swords, 2 of wands

Before I dive in any further, I wish to point out that while I shuffled the deck cards kept falling in big groups and it felt like the energy was all over the place. This gave me the impression that there may be several people that are thinking of you. So if you were drawn to different piles, this may be a confirmation that this is your case. Also I felt like one person specifically was doing their best not to think of you but it's just something that they can't help. If this person ends up thinking of you despite their resistance, then things get out of control and they feel like they can never get their composure back again. In terms of Zodiac signs, we have Scorpio, Taurus, Aries mainly. For some of you I think your exes could be potentially among the people that think of you. Whether those were just friends or actual lovers. I feel like many people who may not have manifested any sign of attraction for you ar now reminiscing about you and wishing that they had given you a chance. Which to me is further confirmed by the spread. With he Judgement card and the combination of the cards, I am given a message that this person or these people could be coming in and out of your life lately and some of them may be trying to find an opportunity to express their attraction. I particularly pick up on the energy of someone you may have had a fallout with because of external circumstances, that is now realizing how much you mean to them and wanting to come back into your life. This person I feel misses the feeling of being with you and more importantly they feel like their chance was stolen from them. Like something happened that prevented them from truly giving your relationship a chance. Like, for example, let's imagine you moved into a city and met a person. Things were going well and this person developped feelings for you. When they were about to reveal their feelings to you, you announced them that you were moving out of the city because of your work. This kind of feeling. For some, it could even be that you got into a relationship with someone else before they could even confess their feelings to you and they were cut short by that. Out of respect for you, they chose to remain silent but now they just can't hold it in anymore. This is someone that envisioned a future with you and wanted to commit to you, but they may have taken a long time to find the courage to make the necessary adjustments in their life to enable this connection to flourish. Another possibility is that your faith or your family were a main obstacle in your connection, which caused you to separate ways.

Crystals oracle cards | back of the deck Smoky Quartz, Sapphire, Labradorite, Herkimer Diamond

First of all, I picked up on very specific details that may not resonate with everyone. One person may be a smoker. One person may have a pet cat or a pet dog. One person may have blue eyes.

Smoky Quartz - Arm your spiritual warrior : this is a stone that speaks about protecting your energies from energy vampires and people that may stand in your way. So maybe the person we're talking about may have been someone that wasn't always good to you.

Sapphire - Find your tranquil place : this stone speaks about freeing yourself from the judgmental opinions of you others may have as well as grudges you may hold. So this person could have helped you with your self confidence over the years but they could also have hurt you in other ways. This may be a person you have mixed feelings about because of your common past.

Labradorite - Protect your magic : Canada may be significant. Pisces is coming up again with this card. This person may have helped you with reconciling with love and romance. They may also have helped you realize your own worth.

Herkimer diamond - Power wash your energy : this is a cleansing crystal. Despite its name, it is not a diamond. This person may thus have been someone that you mistook for something they were not. People may underestimate or overestimate this person. They could be someone that enjoys travelling or you may have met them while travelling. New York may be significant to some of you.

With all that being said, I feel like many energies are being mixed within this group but the overall vibe seems to be that most of the people we're talking about are people from your past that you may not be in contact with anymore on a daily basis. Some of them you may not even suspect of having such thoughts about you. You may be happy that some of them are not in your life anymore but others you may miss and wonder about.

#just-a-ghost #pick a card #pac reading #tarot reading #love pac #18+ pac

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