#and also there is something so sweet and pure and real about so much of it

[embbarnes]

I was sooo excited to see this finished, I couldn't wait to read it. Okay, okay...here we go~

The beginning of it is so pure and sweet, I love how you include so many characters and build the dynamics and world up for the story to begin. You always do such a good job with that, and I love seeing all the details.

I also like how you took this with Logan's view, how you described others and the reactions between them were so perfect for his character. Wade and Al were hilarious, the chatter they had in the beginning was entertaining and 100% something I can see happening.

Anyway continuing below cut because I love reviewing your stuff in more detail ~

The next couple of months go similarly. He runs into you frequently – in the elevator, and the communal laundry room of the apartment complex, and when you’re both checking your mail at the same time. You always greet him with a smile and ask the typical casual conversation questions – how he's liking his new job (he’s not, but he tells you it’s going fine), if Wade is staying out of trouble (no), and how Laura is doing (she’s doing great, actually), but it never progresses much past that.

The tension that builds is so well done. This one really got me into the story, I've never read one with this idea so I thought it was really interesting and fun to read. Sometimes tension is hard to build up, and with the background and characters in the beginning of the story to now and a bit later on, when the 'peak' comes, it feels so well deserves and satisfying. I'm jealous of how you do that 😭

Images of you straddling him with your bare, wet cunt rubbing against his happy trail, getting yourself off on his body as he plays with your pretty tits – He let’s out an audible growl and rips the shower curtain open before turning on the water – straight to his normal hot temperature, too. He knows a cold shower isn't going to do him any good right now. Standing beneath the hot stream, he thinks of what has transpired in the last five minutes and strokes himself in his hand until warm, white liquid follows the water down the drain. When he finishes, he stills hears your voice in his mind and gets hard again within minutes.

UGH. This part was insane. The build Logan begins to feel is so natural here, and as it goes on you can really sense how needy and hard it is for him to handle it. Someone like him being pent up is such a fun concept.

It’s a pretty small couch – really more like a loveseat – so it’s a snug fit for the two of you. The skin of your exposed kneecap brushes against the fabric of his jeans as you lean forward to grab yourself a slice of pizza.

These little tidbits of details feel so authentic and real, I adore each and every one. Just like the exposed midriff, the tiny details that add to what we already know, urging Logan's desires on and on.

During the second act of the movie, he wonders what you’re thinking - if you could possibly be feeling the same way as him – when you randomly sit forward, grab the box of the leftover pizza off of the table in front of you, and stand to take it to your refrigerator. It's then that he picks up on an odor – not the light floral aroma of your perfume but something new. A scent that answers the question of exactly what you had been thinking about. It’s musky and pheromonal, and even though it’s been a while since Logan has been intimate enough with a woman to smell the scent of her arousal, he recognizes it right away.

I'm always a sucker for ferals to use their senses and how writers include it in fics. Logan's sense of smell is insane so he would of course smell the reader's arousal. I love love that and how you described it was amazing.

“You know, if my sense of smell is as good as my sense of hearing, then I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking about right now,” Logan starts, his voice low and gruff. He watches from his peripheral vision as you freeze, your form going rigid. “But I’d really like to hear you say it.”

Yess, FINALLY. Be bold.

He knows you’re trying to play it cool, but there’s certain things that you just can’t hide from him – like the way your heart is beating a mile a minute and the way your nipples have pebbled beneath the thin material of your tank top.

Love this little detail a lot too <3

He pulls your hand off of him and then tugs you over his erection, trying his hardest to ignore the way the wetness between your legs glides against the tip of his cock, until you’re flat against the hard expanse of his lower stomach. “This is what you wanted, yeah?” He grunts. You whimper in response, tightening your thighs around his sides and rocking back and forth with the smallest amount of friction. “Don’t be holding back, wanna feel you make a mess on me.”

This entire bit was super hot too, the idea of this happening was sooo good. His demeanor and actions, the light teasing and slapping was just perfection. It was perfectly balanced, and I re-read this bit a few times.

“We can stop here,” he murmurs against your lips when he breaks the kiss, even though the thought kills him. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, touching you, tasting you. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime for this and the last thing he wants is for it to come to an end. “Don’t have to go any further if you don’t—” “No,” you exclaim with a breathy laugh. “No, I don’t want to stop. Do you want to stop?” He grins up at you, taking his length in his hand and teasing it through your folds from below you. He coats the head in your juices before nudging it against your hole. “Definitely don’t wanna stop, sweetheart.”

This gets overlooked a lot but I personally really, really like this part. Enough self control to ask reader if they want to stop, if everything is fine, just giving that option to stop if they wanted to. That is such a good detail and shows the depth of care. It's really refreshing each time I see something like this added in a smut fic.

“Remind me to eavesdrop on your conversations more often,” he huffs a laugh, still slightly out of breath. You bring your lips to his, smiling as you give him a light kiss. “I’ll know if you do. I have a doorbell camera. You didn’t notice that?”

LMAO girl-😂😭

i got it bad

logan howlett x reader (worst!logan x reader)

word count: 4.9k

summary/prompt: logan can't help that he has super hearing and overhears you - wade's seemingly sweet, shy neighbor - telling vanessa what you fantasize about doing to him. believing that you won't ever act on it, he takes matters into his own hands.

or - getting yourself off on logan's abs

warnings/tags: smut, 18+ only mdni, reader is afab, no use of y/n, logan's pov, porn with a little plot, male masturbation, teasing, nipple/breast play, some tit slaps, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, cream pie

Ever since Logan first met you, he hasn’t been able to get you out of his fucking head.

Which is really unfortunate for him, considering you seem indifferent to his existence.

Wade says that you're just an introvert, and that it takes you a while to get comfortable around new people, but after living across the hallway from you for the last few months, Logan is sure that you have no interest in him outside of simple, polite conversation whenever the two of you run into each other.

He first notices you from across the room when you enter Wade and Althea's apartment – his apartment now, too, he supposes. The small space is crowded, but you're impossible for him to overlook. He instantly recognizes you from the polaroid picture that Wade had showed him in the Void.

You’re greeted by Vanessa, who kisses you on the cheek and shoves a drink in your hand before dragging you over to where Logan is listening to Wade and Althea bicker about – what were they bickering about again? All he can focus on is the way your dress hugs your curves and the lipstick imprint that you’ve left on the champagne flute in your hand.

He needs to get out more. Go to a bar, get a job, maybe even try out one of those dating apps that Vanessa has suggested to him – something to get him out of this fucking apartment that he's stayed holed up in since arriving in this universe, because he should not be this flustered by a complete stranger.

“Earth to Peanut,” Wade snaps his fingers in front of Logan’s face. He barely processed anything Vanessa had said while she introduced you. Blah blah, neighbor, something something, lives down the hallway. “Jesus, did you get into the white powder under the floorboard? Your pupils are as big as saucers right now.”

“Oh, go easy on him, Wade,” Althea scolds. “It’s natural for pupils to dilate when looking at a pretty girl.”

The expression on your face matches how Logan feels – surprised, embarrassed, slightly mortified.

“You don't even know what she looks like. She could look like me for all you know,” Wade snorts.

“She brings me homemade cookies and she always smells good,” Al retorts. “I don't need to be able to see her to know that she's pretty.”

“Nice to meet you,” Logan finally speaks up with a forced smile. Leave it to his two roommates to make a simple introduction as awkward as possible. “And no, I am not high on cocaine,” he adds with a pointed glare at Wade.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Logan,” you return the sentiment with a chortle and shy smile. “And don’t worry, I never pay attention to anything Wade says.”

Yukio and her girlfriend with the long ass name that Logan has yet to memorize then walk up and gain your attention, leaving Logan wishing he could redo the entire interaction.

He spends the rest of the night hoping for an opportunity to talk to you again, and feeling disappointed when that doesn’t happen.

The next couple of months go similarly. He runs into you frequently – in the elevator, and the communal laundry room of the apartment complex, and when you’re both checking your mail at the same time.

You always greet him with a smile and ask the typical casual conversation questions – how he's liking his new job (he’s not, but he tells you it’s going fine), if Wade is staying out of trouble (no), and how Laura is doing (she’s doing great, actually), but it never progresses much past that.

As soon as the conversation starts to venture into more personal territory, you seem to shut down. You’ll make some excuse about having somewhere to be, wish him a good day, and then you’re gone.

He can’t help himself. He sees how carefree and talkative you can be with Vanessa and hell, even Wade – and he wants that. At least then he may feel a little less crazy for spending so much of his free time racking his brain for ways to get closer to you.

Maybe it’s because it has been so long since he’s had a crush on anyone, but sometimes he thinks he might be losing his mind with how often he thinks of you – your smile, your eyes, your scent, your voice, and the way that having a five minute conversation with you always leaves him feeling for the rest of the day.

That’s why when he’s walking to his apartment one evening, and hears his name come from inside your apartment, he stops dead in his fucking tracks.

God, he knows he shouldn’t listen. He knows he should keep walking, go into his apartment and close the door.

But it’s not like he has his ear pressed up against your door. It’s not his fault that he has super hearing and that the apartment building has paper thin walls.

His brain is yelling at his feet to move but they stay planted firm right where they are.

“He thinks you don’t like him, you know,” Vanessa says. Logan doesn’t need to be able to see to know that there’s a smirk on her face.

He’s tempted to cause some kind of commotion in the hallway and then dash into his apartment, just to stop Vanessa from saying whatever the hell she’s about to say.

“Logan?” You sound appalled. “Of course I like him.”

“I know that you like him,” Vanessa chuckles. “But I can see why he would think otherwise. You act like you can barely stand to be in the same room as the guy for five minutes.”

“That’s not true.” Your voice shoots up several octaves higher than normal.

Logan sends a silent prayer to whoever the fuck is listening that no one walks down this hallway in the next few minutes and sees him standing still as a statue next to your apartment door.

“It’s not that I simply can’t stand to be in the same room as him,” you continue, lowering your voice back down to its normal volume. “It’s that being in the same room as him makes me want to jump his adamantium bones.”

For a second, he really believes that his two hundred year old heart might stop beating.

“I’m fucking pathetic around him,” you huff. “Last week, I saw him pull his t-shirt off in the laundry room to put a clean one on, and ever since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about grinding my pussy against his abs. Something is seriously wrong with me, Nes.”

But Logan doesn’t hear Vanessa’s response, because he speed walks away while she’s still cackling. By some miracle, Wade isn’t home, so Logan darts past Althea and locks himself in the bathroom.

What the fuck, Jesus Christ, and holy shit all play on a loop in his mind while he tries to ignore the bulge that has quickly formed in his jeans.

The last words he expected to hear anyone say today were jump his adamantium bones and grinding my pussy against his abs – but the fact that he heard those words come from your mouth in your sweet voice has his cock throbbing so hard that he can't think of anything other than you doing exactly what you’ve been fantasizing about.

Images of you straddling him with your bare, wet cunt rubbing against his happy trail, getting yourself off on his body as he plays with your pretty tits –

He let’s out an audible growl and rips the shower curtain open before turning on the water – straight to his normal hot temperature, too. He knows a cold shower isn't going to do him any good right now.

Standing beneath the hot stream, he thinks of what has transpired in the last five minutes and strokes himself in his hand until warm, white liquid follows the water down the drain.

When he finishes, he stills hears your voice in his mind and gets hard again within minutes.

••••••

Logan hasn’t seen you in three days. Three days might not seem like a long time to go without seeing your neighbor, but it feels like a long fucking time for him. In fact, it’s the longest he’s gone without casually running into you since he first met you months ago.

There’s a reason for this, though – he hasn’t checked his mail in days, hasn’t taken any of his laundry down to the basement in days, and has generally tried to avoid leaving his apartment as much as he can out of fear that he’ll see you. He even went as far as to pretend to be napping when you came by with some fresh baked brownies for Althea yesterday.

He wants to see you, of course. Goddamn, does he want to see you. But after overhearing your conversation with Vanessa earlier this week, he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to look you in the eye and pretend like he hasn't been making himself cum to the thought of you on top of him every time he takes a shower.

But after three days, he finds himself missing you too much to keep up his attempt at distancing himself from you.

What if he’s being ridiculous, staying cooped in this apartment to avoid you? What if you’re just down the hallway, thinking about him at the same time he’s thinking of you?

He's tidying up the kitchen when he sees the pink Tupperware container that you’d brought the brownies in yesterday sitting in the sink. The brownies were long gone – they’d all been eaten by him, Wade and Al within the same hour that you brought them over.

Taking the Tupperware back to you would be the nice, neighborly thing to do, right?

With Al already retired to her bedroom for the evening, and Wade out with Vanessa, he takes it upon himself to wash and dry the container.

It’s a Friday night, so he knows there’s a chance that you’ve got plans and might not even be home, but he still takes a few minutes to fix his hair and swipe some deodorant on before walking down the hallway towards your apartment.

As he approaches your door, he realizes that you are home. There’s light spilling from the crack at the bottom of the doorframe and he can hear low music playing inside. A mix of anxiety and anticipation sets in, but he clears his throat and knocks on your door before he can chicken out.

He hears your footsteps approaching and attempts to wipe any sign of nervousness from his face – he’s just returning your Tupperware, for Christ's sake.

“Logan,” you breathe as you open the door. “I haven’t seen you in a few days,” you greet him. He can’t help but relax at the smile that grows on your face when you realize it’s him. “What are you up to this evening?”

You lean against your doorframe, and Logan has to force himself to maintain eye contact. You’re wearing a matching pajama set – a cute pair of velvet shorts and tank top that shows more of your skin than he’s ever seen before.

“I – uh,” he stammers, holding out the Tupperware container to you. “I just thought I’d bring this back to you. They were great, by the way.”

Your smile spreads to your eyes at his compliment.

“Oh, thanks,” you beam. “I’m glad you got to have one. Wade told me that you were asleep when I came by yesterday so I figured he’d have them eaten by the time you woke up.”

“I’m sure he would have, but Al made him save one for me,” he laughs.

He tries to focus on the conversation at hand, but the fact that you look fresh out of the shower definitely isn’t fucking helping. Bare faced with the scent of your body wash and lotion on your skin, his thoughts begin to stray into dangerous territory fast.

“I don’t wanna interrupt your night, though. I’ll let you get back to—”

“You’re not,” you say quickly as he begins to step backwards. “You're not interrupting. Are you doing anything tonight? I just ordered a pizza and there’s plenty. I was gonna watch a movie, if you want…” You trail off, glancing back and forth between him and your apartment behind you.

He can't help but notice that your voice sounds hopeful.

The invitation excites him more than he cares to admit. Sure, the two of you have hung out plenty of times, but it's always been in a group setting – at one of Wade’s get togethers or movie nights, surrounded by other friends.

But never just the two of you – definitely never in your apartment.

He could never think of saying no to you. Especially not when this is what he's been hoping for since he first me you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'd really like that.”

You hold the door open for him, letting him enter your apartment. Right away, he notices how different it is from the one that he lives in. Then again, there’s three people cramped into Althea’s – you're the only person who lives here, so you're able to make it entirely your own.

It’s cute, and cozy, he thinks. From your furniture adorned with throw pillows and blankets, to all of your shelves stocked with books, knick-knacks and candles, to the various plants occupying space throughout the living room, it feels endearing and welcoming right away.

“So, where’s Wade at tonight?” you ask as he ventures into the living room. He notes a large cardboard box with an untouched pizza in it on your coffee table. His stomach growls at the sight, and it hits him that he actually is fucking starving.

“He’s out with Vanessa. Fourth time this week,” he answers, turning to find you retrieving two plates from a cabinet in your kitchen. You're angled away from him, and when you raise your arms to grab the plates, your tank top lifts enough to give him a clear view of your midriff. He quickly averts his gaze, pretending to find something on your bookshelf particularly interesting.

“I’m just really glad that they’ve worked through things and seem to be happy now,” you sigh. “He wasn’t in a good place after their breakup. Barely ever left his apartment for the longest time.”

“They’ve got something special, that’s for sure,” Logan agrees.

You hand him a plate, walking past him to your couch. You toss some of the decorative throw pillows to your recliner, making room for him on the sofa. You pat the empty space beside you, an invitation for him to make himself at home.

“Who knows, maybe they'll even get their own place soon and I won’t have to share the living room with him anymore,” he says as he sits down beside you.

It’s a pretty small couch – really more like a loveseat – so it’s a snug fit for the two of you. The skin of your exposed kneecap brushes against the fabric of his jeans as you lean forward to grab yourself a slice of pizza.

“Sounds like you just want Blind Al and Mary Puppins all to yourself,” you tease. You hand him a piece of pizza and close the box before propping your feet up on the table. You lean back, looking at him with a smirk and raised brows.

“If he moves, that dog is going with him and you know it. There’s no way he’d leave her behind,” he shakes his head.

“There’s no way Althea would let him take her. She's grown to be as attached to her as Wade is. I think even you like her more than you care to admit.”

“What can I say? She has a way of weaseling herself into your heart,” Logan sighs.

“Oh, it’s definitely the tongue,” you shrug through a bite of pizza.

Logan grimaces as a vivid image of Mary Puppins French kissing Wade awake flashes through his mind, but he can't help but laugh.

You turn on some action-comedy that Logan has never heard of, and the two of you eat and take turns making comments about whatever is happening on the screen for the first half of the movie.

He tries to stay focused on the film, he really does, but every now and then you readjust your position on the couch, causing him to catch a whiff of your perfume or your thigh will brush against his and he'll have to force his attention back to the characters on the screen.

No matter how distracting he may find your mere presence beside him, he's enjoying himself. This is by far the longest the two of you have hung out together, without the additions of his roommates and other friends. He dreads the moment that the movie ends and he’s obligated to tell you goodnight before reluctantly going back to his own apartment.

During the second act of the movie, he wonders what you’re thinking - if you could possibly be feeling the same way as him – when you randomly sit forward, grab the box of the leftover pizza off of the table in front of you, and stand to take it to your refrigerator.

It's then that he picks up on an odor – not the light floral aroma of your perfume but something new. A scent that answers the question of exactly what you had been thinking about. It’s musky and pheromonal, and even though it’s been a while since Logan has been intimate enough with a woman to smell the scent of her arousal, he recognizes it right away.

When you sit back down beside him, the sweet smell washes over him again and he bites the inside of his lip so hard that he tastes blood. The wound disappears as quickly as it’s formed, but the same can’t be said for the erection that begins to strain against the confines of his boxers.

He eyes the pile of small, decorative pillows that you had tossed to the side and wishes that he could grab one to place over his lap.

The words that you’d said to Vanessa a few days ago begin replaying in his mind for the thousandth time since he’d first heard you say them, reminding him this isn’t one-sided. He may be sitting here attempting to conceal a raging hard-on by shifting his position and subtly adjusting his pants, but Logan’s heightened sense of smell tells him that your underwear are probably starting to feel as uncomfortable as his do at the moment.

Without turning his head, he risks a glance at you. Your eyes are on the movie, and your face is neutral, but your posture gives you away. Your arms are crossed over your chest, the tips of your fingernails digging tiny crescent shaped indentations into the flesh of your upper arm. You have one of your thighs crossed over the other, locked together tightly but that doesn’t stop him from being able to smell how fucking wet you are.

“You know, if my sense of smell is as good as my sense of hearing, then I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking about right now,” Logan starts, his voice low and gruff. He watches from his peripheral vision as you freeze, your form going rigid.

“But I’d really like to hear you say it.”

You turn to him, your eyebrows quirked but your face otherwise impassive.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. What exactly is it that you’d like to hear me say?” you ask innocently. You give him doe eyes that make his cock finish filling with blood.

He huffs a laugh, picking up on the way that your heartrate accelerates when you look at him.

“I'd like to hear you say what you said to Vanessa a few days ago,” he hums. “I can’t remember exactly, but I think it had something to do with you rubbing your sweet little cunt on my abs. Does that sound familiar to you?”

“Hm,” you feign contemplation. “That doesn’t really sound like something I'd say.”

He knows you’re trying to play it cool, but there’s certain things that you just can’t hide from him – like the way your heart is beating a mile a minute and the way your nipples have pebbled beneath the thin material of your tank top.

“You’re right. It doesn't sound like something you’d say,” he snorts, and leans in so that your face is just a few inches from his. “So imagine my surprise when I walked by your apartment to hear you talking about jumping my adamantium bones.”

He doesn't miss the way your breath catches in your throat or how your eyes flicker to his lips.

“You gonna do it? Or you just gonna keep thinking about it while you're sitting beside me?”

For a second, you say nothing and Logan struggles to read your expression. Then, without taking your eyes off of him, you slowly stand in front of the couch. You reach for the hem of your tank top and pull it over your head, leaving you naked from the waist up.

Logan's mouth goes dry. Suddenly, he's all out of smart remarks.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband of your pajama shorts, pushing them down your thighs along with your panties, and let them both drop to your feet all while holding his gaze.

With you now stark naked before him, he leans forward, grasping you by the backs of your thighs and pulling you onto his lap. You straddle him, gently pushing him back against the sofa.

He tugs his own shirt over his head while you undo his belt buckle and pop open the top button of his jeans, your hands fumbling when he sheds his shirt.

Logan doesn’t typically think too much about his physical appearance. He knows he’s in good shape, and thinks he’s conventionally attractive enough. But he could see himself getting a bit of an ego, if he had someone looking at him the way you are right now on a regular basis.

You help him shimmy his jeans and boxers down far enough for his cock to spring free. You take him in your hand, using your thumb to smear the thick bead of pre-cum across the head.

“You should be careful listening to people’s conversations outside of their doors,” you hum as you pump him in one hand. You hunch over, lowering your mouth enough to spit down his shaft, lubricating the length. You smirk, glancing up at him from beneath your thick eyelashes. “Other people might not react as happily as me.”

Fuck, he knows it’s been a long time since he's even felt anyone’s hands on him, but he feels a little pathetic at the way his balls are already tightening and feeling so heavy just from the way you’re languidly stroking him.

And as much as he’d love for you to keep your hands on him, there’s time for him later. Right now, what he wants more than anything is the feeling of your pussy on him.

He pulls your hand off of him and then tugs you over his erection, trying his hardest to ignore the way the wetness between your legs glides against the tip of his cock, until you’re flat against the hard expanse of his lower stomach.

“This is what you wanted, yeah?” He grunts. You whimper in response, tightening your thighs around his sides and rocking back and forth with the smallest amount of friction. “Don’t be holding back, wanna feel you make a mess on me.”

His words seem to erase any remaining reservation that you may have had. You brace your hands on his chest and begin dragging your center across his lower stomach, your slick coating the thick trail of hair that goes from his belly button to his waistline. With every backstroke, the head of his cock juts against your ass.

You glide across him easily. Soft, wet, and warm, Logan thinks that if you feel this good on his fucking stomach then there’s no way he’ll be able to handle being inside you.

He leans his head forward, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. You hold his head in your hands, tugging on his hair with your fingers as he teases your nipple with his tongue and teeth.

He pulls his mouth away from your breast with a wet pop. “You like this? Using me to get yourself off?”

“Mm-hmm,” you nod frantically, your answer coming out as a moan. He gives a quick, firm slap to your other breast. Judging by the sound it draws from you, you like it, so he does it again.

He'd pictured this exact scenario a shameful number of times in the last few days, but his thoughts hadn’t done you justice. Every little noise you make, every little whimper and moan as your clit brushes against the thick bulges of his muscles again and again, sounds sweeter than he could've dreamed.

He places his hands on the meat of your hips, guiding you forwards and backwards across his abdomen at a fast pace.

“Fuck,” you gasp, clenching your thighs around him as tight as you can. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum—”

“That’s right,” he coos. “Come on, cum on me.”

You dig your fingernails into his shoulders, drenching the hair on his stomach as you ride out your orgasm on him with a cry of his name.

You collapse against his chest, going still with your face in the crook of his neck as you steady your breathing.

“Look at me,” he whispers after a moment. It hits him that despite the fact that you just humped him until you came all over his abdomen, he somehow hasn’t even kissed you yet.

You pull away from his neck, looking down at him with a dazed expression. He brings your face to his mouth by the back of your neck. He wastes no more time, instantly slipping his tongue past your lips.

He holds you by the globes of your ass, which hovers just above his erection. You grind down, causing the tip of his cock to nudge against your entrance. He groans into your mouth, his cock past the point of feeling like it’s going to explode if he doesn’t fucking feel you.

“We can stop here,” he murmurs against your lips when he breaks the kiss, even though the thought kills him. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, touching you, tasting you. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime for this and the last thing he wants is for it to come to an end. “Don’t have to go any further if you don’t—”

“No,” you exclaim with a breathy laugh. “No, I don’t want to stop. Do you want to stop?”

He grins up at you, taking his length in his hand and teasing it through your folds from below you. He coats the head in your juices before nudging it against your hole.

“Definitely don’t wanna stop, sweetheart.”

You sink down onto him at the same moment that he tilts his hips up enough to slip inside you, causing the entirety of his length to fill you at once.

You both go still, adjusting to the new sensation of each other. Your walls, velvet soft and so warm, constrict around him like a vice. He knows you’re likely tired from riding him through your first orgasm, so he begins thrusting his hips slowly, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix.

“You’re big. So, so big,” you moan – something between a whine and a praise.

“I know, but you’re doing so good, honey,” he encourages as he eases himself in and out of you. “Don’t worry, I got you.”

You latch your lips to his again, and it’s hard for him to hold back. The feeling of your tight, perfect cunt around him and the taste of your tongue in his mouth is overwhelming. He wants to memorize every movement, every sound you make.

You snake your hand between your bodies, your fingertips finding your swollen clit and massaging languid circles. He feels you flutter around him as you start meeting his thrusts with movements of your own, and he knows you’re close.

“Not gonna last much longer, honey,” he grunts with a sharp thrust. “Feel too fucking good.”

“Cum with me,” you murmur against his mouth.

Your command causes something in him to snap. He releases a throaty growl, pistoning his hips upwards at a harsh pace as he fills you up from below. You constrict around him, crying his name into his ear as you ride out your climaxes together.

You collapse against his chest once more, his cock still nestled inside you. He loses track of how long the two of you stay like that, neither of you wanting to be the first to move.

“Remind me to eavesdrop on your conversations more often,” he huffs a laugh, still slightly out of breath.

You bring your lips to his, smiling as you give him a light kiss.

“I’ll know if you do. I have a doorbell camera. You didn’t notice that?”

thank you so much for reading <3 comments and reblogs are super appreciated. here are a few more of my favorite logan pieces that i've written ✨️

for always and ever is always for you - old man logan x healer reader

diet pepsi - old man logan x reader limousine sex

lavender and velvet - worst variant logan x neighbor reader

[itspileofgoodthings]

I mean I’m obsessed with crash landing on you because it’s like if a hallmark movie was good and that is fascinating to my brain and healing to my heart.

[s0dium]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔

Synopsis: Ever wondered what JJK men with a heavy breeding kink would be like? Characters: Toji Fushiguro, Monsterform!Sukuna Ryomen, Gojo Satoru, Getou Suguru, Choso, Nanami Kento Warnings: Breeding, rough sex, praise, cum kink, Monsterform!Sukuna, masturbation, PUSSY DRUNK, fingering, nipple play, edging begging, mentions of pregnancy, mating press, overstimulation, marathon sex, degrading, cum kink, subspace, mirror sex, cowgirl

Toji Fushiguro 

It's almost a little game of his, how many times can he cum in you.

Loathes condoms. Toji hates the plastic flimsy things, but after Megumi he would probably be more cautious, his pull out game becomes stronger

The type to keep you plugged up for a bit with his dick after he cums

If any slips out he will use his thumb to slip it back it

Probably doesn't even ask. Every time you fuck him he is gonna cum into you. Such a slut, you deserve it.

“You're doing such a good job baby, taking this like a champ,” Toji moans between grunts, his eyes closed, tips of his ears bright red from the pleasure, and his black hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. How long has Toji been dreaming about this exact moment? How many times did he fuck his fist to the image of how your pretty face looks right now? More importantly, he realizes, this is it, this is when he can fulfill his biggest fantasy that's been gnawing at his brain like a parasite; he can finally pump his cum into your sweet belly like he has fantasized about.

“Ngh~ too f-fast~” Tears trickled down your face and yet your hips were needly bucking up to take his dick like there was some how more of him to take. What a glutton for punishment you were, but soon that burning pain became something just as good, even better actually, delicious pleasure. You started to arch you back off the bed like a bow and you lock your legs around his back, holding yourself in place so he could fuck you like an animal. The sound of your hips meeting was so loud, that you were sure if any of your neighbors walked by would know what you were doing. Like you cared.

It's as if a primal need has taken hold of Toji, your pleas for him to slow down only go in and out of his ears. With every snap of his hips a creamy ring of arousal forms at his base from your arousal and his precrum. Each movement creates intense friction that heightens the pleasure and the collision of your bodies sends waves of ecstasy through you, making it impossible to hold back your moans. Each motion brings a profound sense of connection and exhilaration, intertwining you closer to the brink of overwhelming joy. The friction of Toji's dick rubbing your walls is enough to leave you breathless and eagerly anticipating each subsequent moment.

"G-gonna cum baby, your gonna take it." He is practically tumbling over his words now from the vice grip your pussy has on his cock. Thank god you are also nearing your peak because you don't know how much more your body can take, you need to use your legs tomorrow.

"Fuck fuck FUCK!" With a loud moan, Toji buries himself deep into your creamy pussy, relishing in the warm feeling, before pumping a heavy load of warm cum into your womb. His cum doesn't stop until your belly was swollen with the hot liquid and your toes curled from the pleasure. The heat spreads through your body, driving you to the edge of pleasure. The overwhelming sensation finally takes over, pushing you into a state of pure ecstasy.

As your pussy convulses, Toji doesn't leave the warmth of your cunt for a second, keeping you plugged and stuffed with his cum.

"Fell so good princess, ya feel like heaven."

Gojo Satoru 

You question whether this is all a dream. It's utterly euphoric, enveloped by every aspect of Gojo—his heady scent, the warmth of his skin, and his mesmerizing voice echoing in your ears. It's a sensory overload that feels almost too intense to be real.

“Oh, where did you float off too, princess?” he coos, watching the glossy, faraway look take over your eyes. Despite this, Gojo keeps up his brutal pace his breathing becoming jagged and irregular. There’s no warning when he comes.

"Love you," you babble, "Love you so much please c-cum in me." Your words are strung out on your lips from how fucking good you feel. As you succumb to each of his forceful, fast movements movements, waves of intense pleasure cascade through you.

“Shit” Gojo spoke through a gritted smile as he blew his load. Almost as if he was unfazed by his ejaculation, Gojo keeps sliding his member in and out, his milky semen leaking out as he continues to push into you relentlessly, not loosing a second of speed.

The sounds, god the sounds where sinful. Wet skin against skin echoed through the room the sloshing of cum trapped inside you, his thrusts are not only slicker and frictionless with the help of his hot cum,

“M-mhm..” your humming earns a guttural groan from the male above you, “m’ Please don't stop Satoru please don't stop” you cry, and how could he not? Of course, he was going to fuck his second load into you especially when you asked so nicely.

Geto suguru

Above all else, Geto Suguru is a family man

There is nothing more he wants than to see your belly round with his kid, to watch your breasts swell with milk

“Fuck princess you feel so fucking good.” Geto’s words come out accompanied with a chuckle, basking in the way your walls hug his dick.

Straddling Geto Suguru, you feel the solid strength of his arms as he effortlessly lifts you up and down his dick. Each controlled movement is a testament to his power, his hands firm and guiding. Your body has gone slack at this point, the muscles in your legs too tired from its constant tremblings and tightening due to how deliciously he fucked you. Good? Try Euphoric. You were in heaven from the way the tip of his fat dick collided with your gspot. He uses you like a sex toy, shaping your walls with his cock.

Long stray black strands of hair fall from his loose bun as he leans over to whisper into your ear. “Want me to fill you up don't you? Watch you grow round our child—” One of his thumbs rolls over your hardened nubs as he gropes at your chest, causing you to keen at the added stimulation, "These will fill with sweet sweet milk, we’ll make sure there’s enough to share with me. Isn’t that what you want?”  Geto’s balls slap against your ass every time you bottom out on his dick.

“Oh fuh-“ His voice comes out breathless. You can feel each harsh contraction of his balls while he creams inside your pussy, such a tight fit that a ring of it seeps out at the base of where he’s connected to you. 

Choso

Choso cant count the number of times he’s touched himself to the thought of filling you up with cum over and over again, till glistening tears streamed down your pretty face and you were meekly begging him to stop. 

He doesn't know why but to Choso, its almost instinct to breed you up, and how could he resist? From the way your hips swayed to your honey-coated whines that escaped your mouth when he aggressively kissed you, you were practically asking for it. 

“Cho~!” you coo, reaching up and planting messy kisses along his chin. Heavy, hot pants escaped both of your mouths as your hips struggled to meet his brutal pace, to no avail.

Quite frankly Choso didn't know how much longer he could keep this up, of course, he knew you’d feel good, but not this good. Fuck, his fleshlight felt like sandpaper compared to the way your gummy walls sucked and spasmed around him. 

“Fuck me fuck me fuck me please don't sto-” You cut yourself off with as squeal when you felt Choso pull out for a quick second before slamming back into you with a grunt; the nearly inhumane girth of his cock making you dizzy at the surprise entrance. 

“Mm’feel so good baby, m’so good y/n” Choso whines were muffled due to how his face was buried in the crook of your neck, your scent only serving to bring him closer and closer to the edge. “m’ gonna cum- princess m’gonna cum inside.” he cuts of with a groan of his own, shooting thick white ropes of his cum into your walls.

Nanami Kento

See the thing is, Nanami didn't even know he had a breeding kink

It wasn't until he came in you for the first time, it wasn't until he watched it spill out and cover your pussy in a creamy white glaze that he became addicted. 

From that point on, Nanami loathed condoms. 

The side of your mouth was a mess of dripping drool. Legs spread apart by the crooks of his elbows, you let our a strangled whine as you watched Nanami hammer himself into you like a starved man. 

“Nanami!” you sob, reaching up to bury your face in his neck, “Please cum in me please!”

“F-fuck y/n, what did you just say?” He groans, brows furrowed and arm muscles straining as he continues to hold your hips in a death grip and fuck you. You met his stare, breathing heavily with sweat dotting your brow.

“I-I, want you to cum in me… please.” Brown eyes widen at your words, causing a warm rush of pleasure to spread through your tummy and tighten the coil.

“Oh, you filthy little fuck.” His movements began with renewed vigor, hips snapping against you almost painfully as you moaned without restraint. You felt full; completely stuffed by Nanami as he stretched your hole with every thrust.

Sukuna Ryomen

One of the many kinks the curse has

Nothing, and he means nothing is more satisfying than pressing down on your tummy and watching the load of cum spill out from you.

And whats the harm if you get knocked up while he’s at it? The king of all curses needs an heir anyways. 

A hum of satisfaction escaped as he watched your used battered body twitch in the reflection of the mirror every time Sukuna teasingly rubbed your clit in half circles with his thumb. 

“Beautiful girl, such a natural submissive”.

Two of the curse's other muscular hands played with your nipples, twisting and running over them with his index finger and thumb, flicking over them like one would turning on and off a light switch. How long have you been sitting in his dick, letting fingers work your clit and nipples to the very brink of a mind splitting orgasm, only for the high to be snatched away from you?

“Look at you” Sukuna hummed, his giving a teasing thrust right into your cervix making you gasp for air. You needed more movement, you needed friction; sitting on his dick spread in front of a mirror wasn't enough. “So needy, so fucking greedy for everything that I’m giving you.”

“I want m-more!” you sob, your body hyper-aware of how fast his fingers moved over your clit.

“Don't worry little thing, I’ll fill you up soon.”

[deadsetobsessions]

Fae adjacent! Danny, pt. 3

Jason returns to consciousness with a scream trapped before it could come to life. He twisted his neck back and forth and back and forth.

It was the last thing he did before he died. When the Joker left and told him to say hello to the big guy, Jason could not muster up the energy to make a single sound.

But Bruce… Bruce was here this time, heavy head making the mattress by his leg dip.

The scars that ran over his face stretched as he blinked.

“…B?”

Bruce’s head shot up, eyes bloodshot and bags heavier than a Gotham socialite’s solid gold Dior purse.

“Jaylad.”

Jason- Jason was alive now. Bruce’s hug felt warm, the tear spot on his shoulder was damp as his dad cried while hugging him.

And Jason should be happy. He’s alive again. His dad loved him.

But all he could think about was the cold of the coffin, the squelch of mud and dirt, and the unerringly wrong feeling of knowing he came back but he came back wrong.

——

Tim had wandered Gotham in the weeks following Jason’s reawakening. He wasn’t avoiding Bruce Wayne. He wasn’t. But Tim knows he’ll have to answer questions soon. He just wasn’t ready.

Tim looked up at the den of pixies- pixies were real!- and squared his shoulders. He did his research. Tim Drake walks into the den with nothing but foolish hope and Gotham-brand audacity. He’ll get answers about Danny today. He will.

——

Soul-Plucker, they called him. Danny Fenton, the proprietor of Fenton Artifacts. The High King.

“I thought King Oberon was the High King?”

The pixies chittered at the little human that could have been kin. Their wings fluttered at their backs, muffled by cloth. It’s not often they find kindred. It really is too bad that Fenton had his mark on the child. How they would have loved to whisk him away. He would have made entertainment that would last a millennia! Or until the court decided to cut of his tongue, at least. How well he had tricked them!

“Of course! Of course! King Oberon is our king, see?” A younger pixie swirled her drink, a shining red and blue thing. “But he’s the High King of another court!”

“The High King of the Infinite Realms, encompassing far more than King Oberon and Queen Tatianna could ever reach.”

Another pixie chimed in, on their fourth glass of amber colored nectar. “The Soul-Plucker!”

“The Beginning of the End.”

“Afterlife IRS department!”

“He who wanders.”

“Death-Caller.” Another one said, grave and serious.

“The Arbiter.”

“So, he’s like, the boss of bosses?” Tim asked. What kind of entity did he make a deal with? Why was he kind to Tim? What motives did Danny have?

“Uh huh!”

“Then what’s he’s doing here?”

“Who knows? The whims of the most powerful are unknown to us.” The pixies clustered around Tim. “Won’t you play another game with us, Alvin? You’re so good at it! Oh, how about a drink?”

“Can’t. I gotta get home. Also, I’m a minor.” Tim slipped passed their fluttering wings and manic smiles. They move to let him past, waving drinks at him in a tantalizing manner.

“And where is that, sweet one?”

“Somewhere, Liltri. Somewhere.”

Tim Drake was a child of pure will, pure hard headed foolishness, a mind sharper than any blade, and luck more terrifying than the creatures he now dealt with. And so, he stepped out of the Pixie Bar with more questions than answers but he stepped out unharmed.

——

“Who are you?” The shadows shift as Lady Gotham unveiled her knight.

Danny felt his eyes cool, glinting green and blue. Lady Gotham forgets who her liege is.

“Haven’t you done your research? You who walks along the edge of shadows, my shop is not a place to dismiss decorum.”

“You brought… you brought him back. How. Why?”

“You want answers? Then give me something in return.”

Danny gestured to the circle his clients have come to know as the deal-maker. Danny doesn’t ask for much in return. Just… something equal to the request.

“Ah,” Danny pointed up at the sign. “I am legally able to deny you my service, so don’t get any ideas.”

Batman was studied up on myths. But he was not a believer, and that both hindered and helped him. What was a god, in front of the faithless? What was the faithless in front of power?

The vigilante stepped into the circle, unable to see the subtle shimmering of magic but remained unbound by the virtue of his disbelief.

“What do you want for answers?”

“You do not often deal with the occult, do you?” Danny tapped the counter. Batman remained silent.

“I have a soft spot for vigilantes,” Danny continued. “And so I won’t ask for much. Just… your cape.”

“Not my hair? A body part?”

“If you were dealing with the fae, you’d probably would lose something of that value, yes.”

“You aren’t fae.”

Danny merely smiled. “Do we have a deal?”

“My cape in exchange for honest answers to my questions.”

Danny huffed, approval glinting in his eyes.

“Your cape for honest answers to three questions,” Danny pointed at the sign, still hanging above them. “Three questions or nothing.”

Batman grimaced. “Deal.”

“Ask your questions, protector.”

“Why did you bring Jason back to life?”

“I didn’t.” Danny grinned. The Bat should have stipulated that he must answer elaborately. He looked like he realized that. Oh well. His mistake. Well, not like there was actual magic binding Danny, so technically, Danny could lie off his ass.

“…Will Jason stay alive?” Danny had a heart and this man was a much better father than Jack ever was.

“Yes. Barring unnatural causes, his soul is firmly attached to his body and will not shuffle off the mortal coil without warning.”

The lines of Batman’s shoulders slumped. Relief. He paused.

“What are your intentions in this city?”

“To run my shop… and to enjoy retirement.”

Danny laughed at Batman’s stoic face. “Disappointed I am not up to nefarious deeds, little knight?”

“No.”

Danny tapped the table. “My payment?”

Batman shucked off his cape and handed it to Danny.

“Why my cape?”

Danny smiled a fanged little thing. “Because your costume looks stupid without it and I could use a laugh.”

Batman grumbled and turned to leave. Ha paused, eyes catching on the glint of camera lenses.

“How much for that?”

“For the little sparrow’s camera?” Danny sighed, eyes fixed on the form of a vigilante who was more kind than angry for once. “Two thousand dollars.”

“That’s a huge markup.”

“That’s how much it means to me, compared to the rest.” Danny slid beyond the counter, a ghostly air about him. He pinned his newly earned cape up. “My shop, my prices, little knight.”

Batman silently handed him two thousand dollars and left with the little sparrow’s camera.

[zepskies]

@lamentationsofalonelypotato

LOLL girl I totally get it, but I don't think you have to be scared on this one. It's a nice little slow burn fic with cozy winter vibes. 😘 And like you, I LOVE soulmate/true mate/fates mate AUs too. It's definitely a mix of forced proximity and grumpy/sunshine, which you know I can't stop writing that dynamic for some reason. 😂😂

But here we go!! Diving into the rest of your lovely comments...

The physical description of Dean is SO good. The use of "stern" and "stubborn" as descriptors fits well for Dean.

Hahaaa thank you, lovely!! Stern brows and a stubborn chin felt inherently Dean to me.

Oh suuuurrrreeee keep telling yourself that Dean.

Lmfao right? Denial of the purest form. 🙄

So what you're saying is... she's trapped in a cabin, she's got a broken ankle, in the middle of a snowstorm with no way out and no communications, with a ruggedly hot mountain man with gorgeous green eyes, a gruff exterior, and a mysterious past... Sign👏🏻 Me👏🏻 Up

That is EXACTLY what I'm saying. 😏

(Also that How to Train Your Dragon gif made me smile -- I love that movie!!)

So ready for Dean to just obliterate all her other experiences with total jerks.

Oh he already is! You def know where I'm going with this. 😏

I live for the after a nightmare comfort trope (if it is a trope? 🧐) and I am SO happy you put this in. Oh my goodness it was so sweet of him to come check on her, and for you to give us a little bit of insight inside of Dean's POV during those moments where she was terrified. This part stuck out to me, because the man is already hook, line, and sinker. He literally tried to go to a cabin in the middle of the woods to get away from it all, but fate really has an odd way of catching up to you. Can't exactly run from it Dean.

Aww me too!! I love hurt/comfort moments almost as much as pure fluff moments. Dean really is fighting for his life emotionally in this loll. His instincts as an alpha (and her mate) are warring with his brain, and it was really fun to write that aspect of Dean's angst post-season 15.

OOooooooOOOooooo shots fired. SHOTS FIRED... But did she stutter??

She, in fact, did NOT stutter.

I'm losing it over the fact that Sam named his son DEAN Jr. 😂🥰 And also the bit about "running full speed into glass doors" is making me cackle lol.

Ahaha idk if that was actually canon or if that's something we in the fandom started writing and I just rolled with it. 😂 I'm pretty sure it's canon that Sam named his son after his uncle? But oh yeah, the running full speed into glass doors was taken straight out of my childhood. 🤣🤣

This line is so Dean, it's PERFECT, and I really love that it was what made the reader try to snort her diet Pepsi.

LOL thank you!! I think I grabbed part of it from season 12 where they go to Hollywood/L.A., but I thought it was quintessential Dean. 🤣

And I just want to say thank you for giving Dean the kinda "homemaker" role in this fic. The fact that he's making food for the reader (I'm obsessed with men who can cook) and taking care of her is just:

Omg yeesss, I love malewife Dean lmao. He's just such a caretaker at heart, and an awesome cook! I can so picture him making big breakfasts for his kids on weekends and packing their lunches for school. 🥹

Oh no Dean, you're not like the Cabin in that way. The cabin is made of strong aged wood that keeps out the chill and is full of warmth! The cabin withstands the elements and doesn't fall no matter how hard the howling wind blows! Dang it, I have way too many emotions over that line. Alex, why did you have to do this to me 😭 It's SO GOOD!!

Dean's self-deprecating angst is like a necessary evil for his character. I'm so glad the cabin metaphor resonated with you the way I intended, even if it breaks my heart too!! 😭😭💙💙

And I'm not sure if you were trying to say that the reader was also a little skeptical about the true mates and if it is a real thing that happens, but I can't wait for part 2 to see if they actually admit it to each other or if they try to keep it a secret as long as they can! Also the song choice perfectly fits the vibes in this fic 👌🏻

Oh yeah, there's some of that too! She's more open to it now than Dean, but I thought we needed some realism where she's also skeptical true mates are even real -- until she met Dean. How strongly they both are reacting to each other physically, but not wanting to admit it yet, and the reader just wanting to know more about Dean before she begins to trust him, all of that is going to continue playing out in Part 2. 💓💓

Oh thank you on the song choice!! Of course Bob Seger has featured on the show in a big way with "Night Moves," so I thought "Against the Wind" felt very Dean, especially in a post-S15 AU.

My lovely friend, this was so good and I can't wait for part 2!!!

Thank you sooooo very much, my friend!! 🥹🥹 Part 2 is dropping later today!! 🥳💕💕

Against the Wind - Part 1

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: This is a canon ending-divergent AU, but still an Omegaverse story within the canon world. It also fulfills a bingo square for @jacklesversebingo!

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, scenting, injuries, hints of angst, fluff and feels. 

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 1: In His Hands

Your body is mostly numb when he pulls you out of the snow.

You utter a sharp cry when something in your side twinges, waking up your entire body like a white-hot shiv. Your ankle begins to throb as well.

“Hold on. I’ve got you.”

You only half hear the voice, a deep, coarse rumble. His form is broad and dark and blurry, but his male scent is the only thing you register with perfect clarity. 

Alpha. 

A small treble of alarm runs through you. It’s an instinct you’ve had to learn, as an omega traveling alone in rural Montana. However, something else disrupts that anxiety.

It’s his scent. His scent is like the crackle and smoke of a warm hearth. 

Safe. Your body is heavy and stiff and doesn’t respond to your commands, and yet, you feel a measure of calm when he maneuvers you into his arms. It’s a baser instinct, rooted deep in your chest. He begins to carry you down the slope of the mountain, and your vision blurs white…

Like the flurry of snow falling heavy on his jacket.  

You wake up freezing and shivering in pain. A sensation of small sharp needles begins to travel all across your skin. Slowly, as you're able to blink, your view of the dark wood cabin clears and focuses. You realize that you’re bundled in blankets, and laying on a chaise in front of a large fireplace. Still, you’re too cold. A keening whimper escapes you as you try to burrow in.

Alpha. Your body instinctively recognizes his presence, as he’s suddenly there, hovering close above you with a divot between his brows and a frown marring his face, where thick stubble threatens to become a beard. Stern, dark brows are furrowed over his concerned eyes. His plush frown is framed by a stubborn-looking chin. Your gaze wearily travels over his handsome features, his short brown hair, the flickers of firelight that splash across the side of his face.

He places a warm, calloused hand on your forehead, and he mutters a curse. Your body trembles further with cold. You part your lips, but you can't yet force your voice to escape them.

Again, he quite literally takes the problem into his own hands. He peels away the thick blankets just to slide himself in behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, and you feel their tempered strength when they cage you in against him. You manage to turn your head and rest your cheek against his chest, covered by red plaid. Thank you...

Almost on reflex, you breathe in his scent deeply.  The earthiness of it calms you, warms you from the inside. Your shivering eventually calms and turns to purring in your chest. 

“What’s your name, Omega?” he asks. His voice is deep and gruff, and it threatens to make you shiver for a different reason as the timbre of it washes over you. 

It’s difficult, but you manage to speak, clearing past your parched throat to give him your name. He nods, as if rolling the sound of it back and forth across his mind.

“Was somebody out there with you?” he asks.

You shake your head, even though the thought elicits a painful twinge in your heart. 

“Who…” you try to speak again, even though it hurts a little. “Who are you?”

You feel him take a deep breath. He hesitates, like he’s reluctant to give it to you. 

“Dean,” he says. 

You roll the name around in your head, over and over. Dean, Dean, Dean…

You smile slightly. “Yeah, makes sense.”

“What?” he says. You hear the raised brow in his tone. 

���You sound like a Dean,” you say, perhaps a little delirious. 

Anyway, that’s when your eyes close on you again. You fall back into the warm lull of sleep, to the sound of a crackling fire, and a feeling that permeates throughout your body.

Safe.

Can’t fucking believe this, Dean thinks, as he holds you. Just when he thought his life was done throwing him curveballs.

He tips his head back against the sofa cushion with a tired exhale. It would just be his luck to find a stray omega wandering his stretch of Big Sky. Montana can be gnarly in the winter, but for the past couple of years, Dean has learned to survive here in this rental cabin for a couple of months at a time, when wandering an empty bunker gets to be too much. At least here the quiet’s peaceful, if still a little unnerving sometimes. 

He glances down at you. Now that you’re warm and sleeping again, he should find something to wrap your ankle and ice it down. It’s swollen, and he wants to take an inventory of your other injuries, so he can determine how to get you back down the mountain and through the woods, back to civilization.

The sooner he gets you medical attention and back to your life, the sooner he can get back to his—even though the thought of leaving you in anyone else’s hands almost stirs a growl in his throat.

And that last part unnerves him, makes him anxious. He begins to untangle himself from you, but his movements falter when your sweet scent filters through his nose again. Cinnamon apples, with a hint of something floral. 

Fuck me.

It’s almost too sweet to be true, but Dean does his best to ignore it…and what that alluring sweetness probably means. 

Dean leaves you in the morning to revisit the site where you fell. He digs through the snow and manages to find your backpack, filled with your clothes, supplies, and your phone and wallet. He returns just in time. 

The falling snow becomes even more intense, until it becomes a quiet roar outside. You watch the snowstorm through the impact windows in the kitchen, and you know what this means. You’re snowed in with a stranger—an alpha, no less. 

You also have a bum ankle, which he wrapped for you. Doesn’t feel broken, he’d said, but it could be fractured, or at the very least sprained. You also likely have a couple of cracked ribs. 

“What were you doing out there, anyway?” he asks, while pouring himself a glass of whiskey. “This ain’t exactly hiking season.”

While you drink some hot chocolate he made you with a bit of whiskey splashed in (for extra warmth), you explain.

“Well, I guess it wasn’t my best idea in hindsight,” you say with a weak chuckle. “I was trying to find my way back, and I…well, I was a bit lost.”

He raises his brows wryly, still sipping.

“And to make a great situation even better, I thought I heard a wolf howl nearby,” you say. “I know most of them would rather run from us than attack us, but you can’t be sure, you know? I had my rifle on me, so I was turning around, trying to pinpoint what direction it was in…and of course, my foot slipped on something.”

You fell down that hill. You think you even hit a tree on the way down, which would explain your ribs. Everything gets a bit swirly, cold, and dark in your memory after that. 

Dean shakes his head. “Gotta say, going out there alone wasn’t a great idea either, especially now. This time of year, there’s no telling when a blizzard like this is going to come through.”

He waves haphazardly toward the storm raging outside. Your gaze falls to the mug in your hands. You don’t really want to talk about your reasons for taking that risk, but maybe giving him a little honesty will get him off your back.

“My dad and I used to hike up here every year,” you confess. “A few months ago…I lost him. So I guess this was just something I needed to do.”

You blow on your hot chocolate before you take another sip. This time when you glance up, Dean’s judgy expression has evened out into something more sympathetic. He lowers his glass.

“Well, hate to break it to you, but there’s no cell service up here,” he says.

You give a humorless huff. “Believe me, I know.”

“Which means no one can come up here and get you,” he continues, “and even when this storm breaks, I can’t carry you all the way down the mountain back to civilization. Not with the snow as deep as it’s gonna get. Now…maybe I can go down by myself and bring help back with me.”

“But another storm could snow me in,” you realize, with growing apprehension at the thought.

Dean nods. “It’s either I take that chance, leave you by yourself. Or we wait for you to heal up.”

He leaves the choice up to you with a gesture of his hand, the one still wrapped around his glass. You weigh those options with a tilt of your head. On one hand, you don't want to impose on him longer than you had to, but on the other, you really don't want to be left alone in this cabin for God knows how long while he scales the mountain by himself, for your sake.

“I think it would be better if we go down together, right? It can be dangerous, even when the storm breaks,” you reply.

Dean nods slowly, like that was what he was going to suggest too. “All right. Well, until you’ve got two working legs, you’re stuck here with me.”

“I figured as much,” you say. Your head tilts as you consider him. He has a gruff exterior, but all his actions so far have been kind, and far more than you’d expect from a stranger. And an alpha at that. 

Not to say that all alpha's are assholes, but you've had far too many experiences with the stereotype: arrogant, entitled, and handsy. Can't forget handsy. 

“Thank you for saving me,” you say, meeting his gaze, “and for…well, being a decent guy.”

Dean’s lips twitch. He nearly chuckles. Instead, he sits back on his side of the couch. 

“Yeah, well, there’s a spare room in this place for you, one bathroom. The kitchen is stocked. I’m a half-decent cook, if I say so myself, but help yourself.”

He gets up from the couch without preamble, to go to his room, you assume. It leaves you feeling at a loss, like he’s trying to get away from you. You know you’re a guest in his space, so you try to respect the way he wants to be alone for a while. He definitely gives off loner vibes. 

You look around and find a collection of vinyl records, and smaller collection of books on a shelf next to the fireplace. You find Gulliver’s Travels, Dune, The Odyssey, The Wizard of Oz—books you didn’t think a guy like Dean would be into. 

You take up The Wizard of Oz, reclaim your spot on the chaise, and start reading.

That night, your dreams are plagued by the crunch of dead leaves, your father shouting at you to run, and to keep running.

The coarse roar of a bear morphs into something other. It’s a sharper, whirring sound like wind howling amidst animalistic clicking, and then bones breaking—your father’s scream cut short.  

You wake with a start, your body both cold and flush at the same time.

Dean is there once again. It confuses you at first, but then it all returns to you in a rush—the where and the why you��re here, once again with the alpha standing over you in concern. He grasps your shoulder and asks if you’re all right. Your breathing is too erratic for you to answer him, your eyes too wide, your body trembling.

Had you been making noise in your sleep? You blush in embarrassment at the thought. You also feel bad for waking him, and all those things get trapped in your throat.

Seeing that you’re most definitely not fine, he sits on the edge of the bed, squeezes your arm, and reminds you. 

“It’s okay. You’re safe here,” he tells you. His tone is deep and even, reassuring.

You meet his steady gaze and manage to nod, trying to catch your breath. 

“I’m okay,” you say, with a shaky nod. He gives you a measuring look, both a question and a confirmation. You give it to him with a firmer nod. “Thanks, I…I’m sorry I woke you up.”

He exhales through his nose, accepting. “‘S all right. Don’t worry about it.” 

You feel the loss of his touch when his hand eventually slip away from your shoulder. As soon as he came into your room, he’s gone. 

Dean leaves swiftly, trying to brush off how the scent of your fear had tugged sharply at his gut even in his sleep. It not only woke him up, but compelled him to kick his blankets off and get out of bed to go to you.  

You were having a nightmare, reliving your fall, if he had to guess. You came out of it pretty quick when he carefully grabbed your shoulder. Every instinct in his body told him to gather you into his arms and cover you with his own scent and protective embrace to calm you down. 

Through sheer willpower, he managed to ignore every single one of those instincts.  

Two days pass, in which you and Dean say very little to one another, besides when he asks you what you want to eat, and how you’re feeling. The alpha seems genuine, but guarded any time you ask him about him; anything that’ll give you a clue into who this guy is, and why he’s here. 

You try again to strike up some kind of conversation over dinner one night. 

“Do you live here year-round?” you ask, around a mouthful of burger that’s absolutely delicious. He wasn’t lying when he claimed to be a good cook. He even made the fries himself.

“No,” he replies. “No Netflix, no internet? Think I’d die of boredom. I just come up here to uh…take a beat, I guess.” 

You smile. “I don’t blame you. Sometimes you just need a break,” you say, even though your tone is heavier than you meant it to be. Your gaze, a bit distant in that moment, sharpens and focuses back on Dean. “Where are you from, then?”

“Kansas,” he offers.

“Oh really?” You brighten with that scrap of information. “My older sister lives in Topeka. She moved there for a job, initially, but then she met her guy. He’s some kind of day trader. Which is just code for sits on his ass playing Call of Duty while she busts hers.” 

Dean huffs, then crams more burger into his mouth. He hasn’t been giving you a lot to go on while you two have been talking. Unfortunately, you have the tendency to ramble and fill the silence before it becomes even more stifled. 

“She works at a bank. Smart, driven, always knows what she wants. Meanwhile, I’ve had about seven jobs in the last three years, none of which were even remotely related to my almost useless degree in Communications.”

“Yeah, doubt you need a degree in communicating,” Dean remarks, popping another fry into his mouth.

 You purse your lips at him, but the glint of teasing in his eyes makes you fight not to smile. 

“All right, smart guy. So, what about you?” you ask.

Predictably, the man’s walls firm back up. “What about me?”

“Well…why’re you up here alone? Do you have family?” you ask.

Dean quirks a half smile. “I’ve got a brother.”

“Okay. Younger, I’m guessing?”

He tilts his head at you, a bit amused at your guess. “Why’s that?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I can’t imagine you with a brother who’s older than you.”

His lips twitch. “You callin’ me old, sweetheart?”

You begin to blush with embarrassment. But also, sweetheart?

You shake your head. “No, that’s not what I meant. I just mean like…”

Dean saves you with the return of his smile.

“Yeah, he’s younger,” he says. “But he’s the one with the quasi-wife and the apple pie life.” 

“Quasi-wife?”

“They’re mated. Just haven’t gotten around to the whole getting hitched thing,” he explains. “But they’re happy. Dean Jr.’s growing up fast, already running full speed into glass doors.”

His smile is genuine when he talks about his brother, just tinged with a bit of melancholy, you think. 

“Dean Jr.?” you ask in amusement. Dean Sr. laughs a little, and you enjoy the sound, the way it lightens up his face and pulls at the corners of his eyes.

“Yeah, can’t say I wasn’t surprised myself to get that honor, but…hey, it works for the kid. He’s got my chin,” he remarks.

He digs into his pocket to show you a picture from his cell phone. Even though it doesn’t have service, you can still view the many pictures of the adorable infant in his camera roll, courtesy of Sam and his mate, Eileen. You coo at the chubby cheeks, the bright little eyes, and the swirled tuft of dark hair on his head.

“Where do they live?” you ask.

“Out west, a stone’s throw from the City of Angels.” Dean’s smile dims. “He just had to go back to California.”

“What’s wrong with California?” you ask.

“It’s full of pretentious douchebags, that’s what,” he says, his voice a dry whip. “Waxed up to the fucking eyeballs, smelling like Botox, Adderall, and sweaty desperation.”

You splutter laughing so bad that your diet coke escapes you in a spit take. It partially goes up into your nose, burning, stinging your eyes, but it’s made worse by the way Dean waves a hand up incredulously. You’ve just gotten half his sleeve wet.

He meets your gaze, and you can’t help but laugh even harder. 

“Wow,” he says. 

“God, I’m sorry,” you say, still giggling. You get up, hobble over to the kitchen counter, and rip off a paper towel to try and pat his arm dry. He takes it from you and helps you back into your seat.

“I got it, Spit Take. Just finish your food,” he says, if with a dancing gleam in his eyes.  

From then on, it becomes easier for you to pull the alpha into conversation. Besides reading, napping, and staring out the window while it snows, you don’t have much by way of entertainment. Not to mention the pain of trying to get around without crutches, as it also jostles your ribs. Dean often has to help you from one room to another, which of course, you get embarrassed by.

“I’m sorry!” you yelp, when he saves you from another crash landing in the hallway. You’re fresh out of a shower, and it had taken you twenty minutes just to figure out how to wash your hair on one leg, let alone dry yourself off and get your shirt and borrowed sweatpants on. The main problem in getting back to your room happened to be the pants themselves. Their length and bagginess made you slip.

At least Dean’s learned to ignore your apologies. He now holds you by the waist, having pulled you against his chest on reflex. With furrowed brows, he notices your pained hiss when you grab onto his arms for balance.

“You okay?” he asks with a note of alarm.

“Ribs,” you gasp. They’re throbbing sharply with his hold, especially after being rattled by the near fall.

He immediately adjusts his hold lower, holding your arm and hip to support you. His hands are strong, but gentle. The warmth and pressure of his touch rattles you more than almost falling into a heap. Cliché as it might be, your heart is beating faster, what seems like in and out of rhythm. A feeling you can’t name stirs and tugs at your lower belly when you hazard looking up into his eyes. They’re a nice shade of green, like a forest floor in the spring.

“You just go ass over tea kettle at any moment, huh?” he quips, his lips tugging upward. “Come on. Where were you headed?”

“To my room, wise guy,” you say wryly, even as your blush heats your face and neck. “But this is a great taxi service.”

He snorts. “Yeah, call it the Winchestermobile.”

“Winchester. That your last name? Like the rifle?” you ask, while he helps you carefully down the hall. He nods in confirmation.

“That’s interesting. You don’t meet many Winchesters,” you remark.

“Yeah, well, ain’t that many left,” he mutters.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, easing you down onto the edge of the bed. His hands go to his hips as he scrutinizes your form for further injury. “You good? I was about to get cracking on some lunch.”

You offer him a grateful smile. “Yeah, I’m good. What’s on the menu?”

“Nothing fancy. I’m thinking grilled cheese. Maybe some tomato soup, assuming I can find a can in the pantry,” he says.

“Honestly, that sounds awesome,” you say. “Haven’t had a grilled since…God, probably since I was a kid.”

At that, Dean smiles. “Well, I happen to make an awesome one. No less than three kinds of cheese.”

“If they’re as good as your burgers, then I don’t doubt it,” you reply. He seems pleased at that, and maybe a little bashful as his gaze falls away.

Cute, you think. Your smile grows.

“All right, well, stay tuned,” he says. He winks, tossing you a “gun for hand” gesture that makes you laugh. Dean wears a rugged exterior as easily as his winter jacket, but he’s also kind of a dork.

After lunch (delicious, as you predicted), you take the afternoon just to sort through Dean’s records and alphabetize them for him. You hunker down on the floor in front of the shelf, close to the record player. 

“I don’t need all that. I know where all my stuff is…more or less,” he says, with a lazy wave of the beer he has in hand. 

“Oh really?” you raise a brow. “Okay, let’s test that theory. Where’s Boston.” 

“Right next to the White Album, there on the left.”

Sure enough, you find Boston, as well as the White Album by the Beatles.  

“Oh my God, you actually have the White Album?” You open up the double-sided case in excitement to read the list of songs printed on the inside. “This thing is so expensive.” 

“Beatles fan, huh?” Dean says as he takes a seat on the couch. You turn your smile on him, and he stills in his seat.

“Uh, yeah. Who isn’t?” you say.

Dean shrugs with a smile of his own. “Put it on if you want.”

You bounce a little with excitement before you figure out how to turn on his record player. You put the vinyl album on Side B, moving the needle until you find “Blackbird.”

“Of course,” Dean says, slightly teasing. You turn to him with crunched brows.  

“What? ‘Blackbird’s’ a classic.”

“Eh. Everyone likes ‘Blackbird.’”

“That’s what a classic means,” you argue.

“More like a mainstream copout,” he says. You think it’s just to needle you, but you still purse your lips. 

“Fine, Mr. Music Snob. Then what’s your favorite?”

“On the White Album?”

“Any Beatles song.”

“‘Hey, Jude,’” he says, after a moment. There’s some kind of weight in his eyes, a note of melancholy. You don’t miss it, even though you don’t know why it’s there.

“Everyone likes ‘Hey, Jude,’” you quip, trying to lighten him. 

He smiles a little. “Yeah. Fair enough.”

Finally, the snowstorm breaks. Dean ventures outside and brings you back a long, sturdy stick to lean your weight on when you want to move around, though he claims he’s working on a better solution. Now that the snow has let up, he’ll be able to go out to the shed and do some work. 

Whatever that means, you think.

You watch him from the living room when he goes outside to chop some more firewood. 

He should really wear a hat. His brown hair is getting dusted white with snow flurries as he continues to swing down the ax. You notice the power in his tall frame, even covered by layers of his jacket, pants, and boots. You almost feel each chop of the wood resonate in your chest. 

Heat rises in your cheeks when he looks up, as if he senses he’s being watched. You bow your head and pretend to read your book.

His boots continue to crunch in the snow as he makes trips back and forth from the surrounding forest. Aside from the firewood, he brings back a few long, thinner logs that he takes to the shed. Soon you begin to hear the steady back-and-forth cutting of a saw. You wish you could go out there and take a look, but you can’t even get around the house that easily, let alone venture outside.

Your curiosity about this man knows no bounds, and you decide to use the walking stick he found for you in the meantime to get around without putting pressure on your injured ankle. You know it’s wrong, but you end up traversing the long, dark hallway, pushing open the door to the right, and venturing into Dean’s room. 

It smells like him, earthy and tinged with smoke. His scent is seeped into every part of it—the bed, the dresser and nightstands, the dark blue bedsheets, the desk and chair, and even the drapes. It makes you almost lightheaded at the pleasurable feeling of it washing over you.

A shudder suddenly runs down your spine and tugs at your core in arousal. With a sharp intake of breath, you have to shift on your feet, pressing your legs together against the slick already forming down below.

You’re shocked and embarrassed at first. You aim to bolt out of his room, but you stop short in the doorway as it dawns on you.

Your sister is a beta, and so is her husband. She’s never completely understood you as an omega. She never understood your parents either, or the bond they had. She always scoffed at the idea of “true mates.”

Soulmates. It was fantasy and myth, the stuff of cheesy Harlequin novels.

Growing up, you’d agreed with her, even though a part of you deep down always protested. It wanted to tell her not to open her mouth about something she knew nothing about, and would never know. 

The day you met Dean, you knew she was wrong. 

Your more logical mind tries again to reassert itself though. You remind yourself that you barely know anything about this man, no matter how attractive, kind, funny, enigmatic… 

And yet, you can’t shake that part of you that doesn’t rest until you see his face in the morning; until you make him coffee and eat breakfast together, and take any opportunity to pull more threads from him. It’s more than passing attraction. It’s more than just being stuck together in this cabin, unable to escape each other. You know, because the feeling scares you, and it electrifies your blood at the same time.

All these thoughts go through your mind when you turn back around. Slowly, you continue to look around his room, your whole body tingling. The room is neat, more or less, with everything in its proper place. It’s pretty bare though, décor wise. There’s a desk with a few scattered books and a journal sandwiched in between. A smile of surprise forms across your face.

No. Don’t tell me this guy is Mr. Dear Diary? you think in amusement. Though you wonder if it’s another way he passes his time here, especially when he’s holed up in his room.

You know you shouldn’t be snooping, let alone contemplating what you’re about to do…but you can’t help yourself. Biting your lip, you slide out the journal and begin to flip through it. 

You frown at the strange drawings and odd entries—dates, narratives, scraps of information on different types of mythological creatures, and even more strange, on how to kill them. 

What the hell is this?

That’s when you hear the front door swing open. You bolt from his room as quick as you can, not realizing you took the journal with you in your haste. You stuff it up your sweater and pretend like you’ve just come out of the bathroom on the way back to your room. There you slide the journal under your pillow. You jump when Dean knocks on your door.

“Hey,” he greets.

The jolting pains your ribs, and your hand goes to your left side in a hiss. 

“You okay?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern. He takes a step into your room, but you turn to him with a nod and a placating hand.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You just scared me,” you say, with a bit of nervous laughter.

He gives a half smile. “Sorry. Just come ‘ere a sec. I wanna show you something.”

He reaches out a hand to help guide you to the living room.

There he presents you with two rudimentary crutches. Your eyes widen as your free hand passes over the smooth chestnut color of the wood. Dean keeps a light hold on your elbow, just in case.

“You made these?” you ask.

“Yeah, just a bit of woodworking. Picked it up over the last couple of years,” he says.

He’s downplaying it, but you’re nothing short of marveling. You set aside the walking stick in favor of picking up the crutches, and they’re even the right size to position them under your arms.

“Now you don’t have to hobble around like Long John Silver,” Dean quips. You meet the sight of his grin with a raised brow, but you soon begin to smile. When you get close enough to him, you lean the crutches against the couch and give him a warm hug, resting your head on his chest.

“Thank you,” you say. It’s something he was wholly unprepared for, but he hugs you back with a chuckle.

“Uh, you’re welcome.”

Just then, he tries not to inhale your scent. He tries not to focus on the feeling of your body pressed soft and warm against his. You fit just right. 

After a beat, you have mercy on him and pull away. You take your crutches back up and continue to walk around the living room experimentally. 

“You think I’d be okay trying to go outside?” you ask on your way to the door. Dean tenses.

“Uh, I don’t think—”

But you’re already halfway out the door. He shakes his head and follows you with swift strides. He watches you step out carefully onto the porch like a baby deer. He cleared the snow this morning from the deck and the steps, but he’s more concerned when he sees you considering how you might step out onto the snow.

“Stay on the porch, all right, Bambi,” he warns. “You’re not wearing snow boots and it’s still pretty deep. Not to mention, I’ve been keeping an eye out for a bear that wandered through here last week—”

You turn to look at him over your shoulder in amusement.

“Okay, Alpha. Calm down,” you say playfully. “I’m not gonna go ass over tea kettle.”  

His brow twitches as he frowns. Alpha. He fights not to show his reaction to the way you said it; it calls to his baser instincts, almost stirring a rumble in his chest.

Cheeky little omega.

You keep to the porch, but regardless, you’re happy. You don’t even mind the cold. You see your breath on the air, and you tip your head back, closing your eyes with a smile as the sunshine warms your face. You inhale through your nose and let it out slowly in contentment. 

“It’s a good day, Dean,” you say quietly. 

You don’t realize that he’s watching you with a more reserved smile on his face. When he realizes it, he shakes his head at himself. He’s only been here a week with you, and it’ll probably take a couple more for your ankle to heal up well enough for you to walk again, let alone get down the mountain. 

He doesn’t want to leave you alone up here, so he’ll have to somehow keep fending off your probing questions into his past and personal life. There's a lifetime of blood, nightmares, and death that he just can't let you see behind his eyes.

Hell, he's been trying to shove it all down for the past year—in booze and odd jobs and trips to nowhere, always coming back to an empty bunker. He still wonders how Sam's managed to do it, to move on, and build a new life for himself.

If Dean's honest (and he's not), he feels a bit like this cabin; old, falling apart, and forgotten.

But he’ll have to keep taking in your brightness and warmth, continue arguing with you about music and other inane shit, and pretend that every small touch of yours doesn’t ignite his skin. That it doesn’t make him have to beat down every instinct he has to pull you into his body and blanket you with his scent, ravage you, claim you, and make you his. 

He never thought this would happen to him. He never thought someone like you was out there…for someone like him.

He knows it though, deep in his gut. You’re meant for him. You’re meant to be his mate.

Which means he’s already screwed. 

AN: And we're off! Special thanks again to Michelle (@luci-in-trenchcoats) for being my sounding board when I was first writing this series. Let me know what you think of Part 1! 💜

Next Time:

I buried my wife today. Even as I write that down, I don’t believe it. Last week we were a normal family…eating dinner, going to Dean’s T-ball game, buying toys for baby Sammy. But in an instant, it all changed…

When I try to think back, get it all straight in my head…I feel like I’m going crazy. Like someone ripped both my arms off, plucked my eyes out. I’m wandering around, alone and lost and I can’t do anything.

This is Dean’s father, you realize. The more that you read, with no small amount of dismay, you also realize that this man is writing about his wife, Mary.

Dean’s mom…

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𝕟𝕖𝕥: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity @newworldnet

𝔸/ℕ: My responses to your requests, bunnies, are being taken to a whole new level. It's also what's been on your mind so much lately - Yunho and his beautiful fingers. Honestly, it's just a huge chunk of pure smut dedicated to Yunho's hands. But, I don't regret it at all.

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 Part I @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism @mxnsxngie @nenefix-on @therealcuppicake @annafeebou @sharksandminhos @@lixies-pixieboy @@vampzity @0rangemilk @yellow-foxxing ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 Part II @unholywriters @hey-syia @hrts4nohee @vnessalau @mlink64 @tessakleine @fr34k4c1dr41n @313hwa @lilyuwon @tiziamattaga @un-knew @wiaxul @siyah-staryis @seonghwasbbgirl

"You know, it's not that difficult. If you want to give it a try, I can do it for you, Chagi."

When you hear these words fall from his pretty lips, your eyes widen in a comical way, and your mouth falls open a little.

'What do you mean?' You ask him quietly, just to make sure Yunho meant exactly what he said. 

'Cum, baby. I can make you come with just the touch of my fingers.' Yunho says this in an easy, casual way, raising his big hand to the level of your face and moving his fingers to get your attention. "You know, it's called fingering."

Oh shit. He really meant what he said. Your heart starts beating faster at the sound of his slightly husky voice, and you automatically focus your gaze on his beautiful, long fingers. Fucking long, beautiful fingers. Sometimes you even wonder if Yunho's fingers could be longer than the dicks of some guys you've had sex with. Jeong Yunho was not just a good friend. He was the greatest friend in the world. Accommodating, sweet, and witty, he was always ready to help you in every situation and listen to you anytime, day and night. There were never any secrets between you two; Yunho knew everything about you, just as you knew everything about him. 

You couldn't have been more grateful to him when Yunho came over to your house with ice cream and sweets after another 'cool' guy had turned you down on a date. 

He sat beside you, big and warm like a golden retriever puppy, listening to all your complaints about being dumped, letting you nibble away your disappointment with ice cream and chocolate, wrapped up in his wonderfully soft sweatshirt, smelling of his vanilla-woody perfume. The smell of him used to make you dizzy all the time.

This was not the first time you'd been in this situation, and nights like this had become something of a tradition for you. Yunho always listened to you when you complained about how disgusting and unsatisfying your dates were. He was always on your side. To be honest, you always liked Yunho—much more than you should like a friend, but who wouldn't like Yunho? He was the absolute embodiment of the perfect man—looks, manners, character, and on and on. And you were completely out of his league. But in spite of all of that, Yunho never made you feel uncomfortable when you were in his presence. You always talked to each other in an open way, and there were no taboo subjects between the two of you. Even about sex... Over the years of your friendship, you had a good idea of what Yunho was capable of in bed, and he knew your preferences and desires regarding sex. 

But when you told him about your other boyfriend's inability to bring you to orgasm, he had never offered to help you with your sexual frustration. To this very day.

"C'mon, you don't mean that." You say this as you shove a spoonful of strawberry ice cream into your mouth. The creamy, whipped mass melts in an instant as soon as it comes into contact with the warmth of your tongue, leaving behind a light taste of berry.

Right now, instead of your favourite ice cream, you really wish that Yunho had brought a couple of bottles of soju with him. Then you could blame the alcohol in your blood for making you blush, rather than the fact that his suggestion made you both confused and excited.

"Actually, I'm quite serious, Chagiya. I can make you cum with just the tips of my fingers.' He said it just as easily and calmly as he had before, looking at you with those big, shiny eyes of his. 

Yunho looked so relaxed as he sat next to you, his arms wrapped around the big soft cushion, and you, in contrast to him, began to squirm a little in your seat under the sudden weight of his usually soft chocolate gaze.

"Look, T/N, if you don't want to do this, I understand; you don't have to worry so much. We can pretend this conversation never happened, and I'll keep listening to you complain to me about men who are too selfish in their desires and can't give you what you need. I've always told you, Chagiya, that you deserve so much more than these pathetic idiots you've been dating, and unlike them, I don't have to stick my cock in your pussy to make you come. I can fuck you stupid, just with my  fingers." Yunho puts the pillow to the side and leans in a little bit closer to you. When he starts to speak again, his voice becomes more husky and sultry. "But I'm not going to do anything that you don't ask me to do. Just say the word, and we'll forget the whole thing." 

"Yunho... I don't know; it's all so sudden." You mumbled, unsure, biting down on your lower lip and glancing down at his hands once more. 

God, Yunho's offer was as tempting as it was damaging, but damn it, this was exactly what you wanted. You wanted it so badly. Perhaps, just perhaps, you'd been thinking about his hands more often than you'd admitted. More than once or twice, you've imagined how those broad, big palms of his would feel on your body, and even more so, how great his long fingers would feel as they plunged deep into your pussy. You are sure that the stretching is going to be nothing short of delicious. But you also knew that if you agreed to his proposal, your little crush on him would take a dangerous new turn. You were already halfway to falling head over heels in love with him, and this situation wasn't going to make it any easier for you at all.

"Relax, Chagi; there's no pressure. We can just forget about it; I already told you. If you don't want it...'

'But I do want to.' Before you had a second to think about what you'd just said, the words flew out of your mouth. 

For a moment, you couldn't think straight, and there was a heavy pause between you that made you want to slap yourself on the forehead. You shyly glanced at Yunho from under your lashes in an attempt to analyse the expression on his pretty face. 

Yunho runs his tongue over his lips, leaving a glistening trace on the soft, pink flesh, and you unconsciously repeat the movement as he does. He can already see that you're totally into it, and a slight satisfied smile appears on his face.

"I'm not going to lie; it sounds nice. But you don't have to do that; I understand if you were just kidding and..." 

"Y/N, I'm not kidding. You're beautiful, sexy, and sweet, and you totally deserve to have your body worshipped. You need a man to show you how it's done, not a boy, Chagiya.' Yunho raised his eyes to you, and the darkness swirling inside them was something you'd never seen before. 

God, that look—why does he have to look like that right now? It was the first time since you'd met Yunho that you felt so turned on by his presence. Damn it. You could feel your body heating up and moisture starting to gather between your legs, making your lace panties stick uncomfortably to your bare pussy. But you tried to ignore it and just squeezed your thighs tighter. He probably didn't even mean it in a serious way, and you're already starting to fantasise about it.

'Oh, Yunho...' That's all you could manage to say at the moment. There were too many thoughts running around in your head—too many ideas—for you to be able to focus on anything in particular. 

On the outside, Yunho was completely calm, but there was a real flame of desire burning inside of him. He wanted to touch you so badly; he wanted to touch you in a way that friends were never supposed to do. It literally ate him up from within, but he was just a friend to you. You never looked at him with those seductive eyes that he knew you gave to other guys, guys not like him, guys who could never satisfy you properly, who could never fill you and make you squeal and dumb from their dicks. He could give you that. Yunho could give you anything you wanted. 

Tonight, when he had offered to fuck you with his fingers, it had been a thought he hadn't even realised he had said out loud. But damn, now he was unspeakably glad he had done it. You were right there in front of him, and he wasn't going to deny himself the chance to finally get what he wanted. He didn't care about the consequences. After all, when Yunho was done with you, you wouldn't be able to think about anyone else but him. God, all he can think about is how beautiful you'll look when you collapse under his touch and the blissful look on your face when you come on his fingers. Hell, he's hoping to see you drooling and squirting with his name on your lips. 

"What should I do?" you ask, pulling the sleeves of his sweatshirt tighter over your hands so that only your fingertips are visible. God, this is so fucking embarrassing. 

Yunho just grinned and moved even closer to you, so that your legs were now resting against his thigh. He gently cupped his large, warm palms around your face and forced you to look into his eyes. 

"Just relax for me. Will you? Let a real man take care of you properly, Chagiya."

Jeong fucking Yunho, you should stop now, or you'll start begging him for more than his fingers, and when you say that, you mean his dick. And generally, it wasn't even metaphorical—erything in Yunho's body was of impressive size, and his dick was no exception. You'd never tell Yunho, but you might have accidentally seen him masturbating a couple of times when he stayed at your place. Of course, it was completely by accident, but the image of his beautiful hands wrapping around his huge, thick, veiny cock, the deep, husky moaning and the blissful expression on his handsome face—that's the image that's burned into the back of your eyelids for life. The memory alone made your pussy clench around nothing.

Yunho slowly ran his thumb over your lips, smearing the remains of your favourite strawberry ice cream, while you were lost in thought. He made a mental note to buy you some strawberry lube for the next time you have sex, which is definitely going to happen. He doesn't even doubt it. You reflexively open your lips as you feel the slightly rough pad of his thumb pressing against the soft, sticky flesh of your lower lip, allowing him to push his finger deep into the wet warmth of your mouth. 

Yunho's eyes grow heavy with desire as your tongue wraps lightly around the long appendage and you begin to suck on his finger, looking up at him from under your lashes with big stag eyes as if to ask for his approval. 

"Such a good girl for me." A deep groan echoes in his chest as he sees your plush lips wrapped tightly around his finger, and Yunho can't help but think about how those same lips would wrap beautifully around his thick cock. But what he'll really be dreaming about for the next few weeks is the sugary expression on your face as you lick the slightly calloused pad of his thumb with your tongue. Your lower lip glistens with ice cream residue and saliva. Fuck. You look so fucking slutty and sweet at the same time that all he wants to do is bend you over and fuck your brains out. 

You can't hold back the whimper that comes out of your throat at the praise he gives you. Did you ever think that you would have a craving for praise in you, or is it just because of Yunho? The vibration around his finger reaches all the way up to his crotch, and his cock twitches as it strains against the jeans. You suck his finger deeper into your mouth—wet and hot—sliding your tongue over it, up and down. Back and forth over it. When he suddenly pulls his finger out of your mouth, a thread of saliva connecting it to your flushed lips, you let out a weak moan of frustration. 

"Baby, I'm the one who has to take care of you today. Aren't I?" He said as he let go of your face and got up from the couch, only to kneel down in front of you, but even in this position, Yunho still towered over you, making you feel small and vulnerable. When did your adorable puppy retriever ever have the time to turn into a big, bad wolf? "If you change your mind..." He began placing his hot palms on the bare skin of your thighs and discreetly pulling them apart so he could get a good look at your wet panties, the sight of which made his mouth fill with saliva. "Just say the word, and I'll stop immediately. Anytime, chagi..." 

Honestly, Yunho is absolutely lying to you right now; he doesn't know if he can take his hands off you at all, especially after seeing your pretty pussy covered only by the thin lace. The milky French lace hugs your cunt perfectly, stretching just enough to outline the shape of your labia, and he can't stop himself from moaning as he sees it. Your excitement seeps out onto the fabric, forming a large wet patch at the front. Yunho knows that your hole is throbbing with the need to be filled and your clit is swelling, begging to be touched.

Yunho's fingers dig hard into the soft flesh of your thighs, much harder than you expected, and you whimper, biting your lower lip and shaking slightly under the grip of his hands. 

"I get it...I trust you, Yunho."

"That's it, Chagi. I'm going to make you feel so good. I swear." Yunho whispers as he leans down and kisses the top of your thighs while he keeps his eyes on your face for a second. Your mind is in such a state of confusion that you can't concentrate on anything else but Yunho and the warmth of his hands and his lips on your skin. 

He can't resist sticking out his tongue and licking the thick strip on your clothed cunt. He moans into your pussy and your face feels like it's burning. Yunho runs his tongue over the smooth fabric of your pussy once more, moistening it even more with his saliva.

God, you're amazing. He's wanted this for such a damn long time, and right now he can say that his cock is harder than it's ever been. He wouldn't be lying. How could he not be?

"You're so beautiful, baby." You begin to wriggle in his arms as Yunho's lips close over your pussy, and you hear the sound of faint sucking on the wet lace in his mouth, his beautiful lips pressing right up against your throbbing clit making your little hole contract even more, begging to be filled.

'Oh God, Yuyu...' Your tone is whiny, almost pleading, and you feel a satisfied smile spread across his mouth as he buries his face harder into your pussy, your legs trembling slightly at the movement of the lace over your sensitive folds. He hasn't even done anything yet, and he's practically pushing you to your limit, and you're almost ashamed of it. If Yunho keeps going like this, you're going to come just from him sucking on your panties, and he doesn't even have to use his hands to do it. 

"Mmm, my girl is so warm and sweet; I can't wait to feel that cunt from the inside." He says it quietly. His voice is deeper and huskier than you've ever heard before. Yunho lets the disgustingly wet material of your underwear out of his mouth and bites lightly on the inside of your thigh, causing you to gasp for breath. "Chagi, as much as I like seeing you in my clothes, I want you to take off your sweater. Let me see those nice tits of yours." 

Maybe it's his voice, or the dark, burning look in his eyes that are usually too soft and shiny, or maybe it's Yunho himself, but you obediently follow his command, eager to please him. Agonisingly slowly, your hands pull up the super-soft fabric, exposing more of your  skin millimetre by millimetre. You find yourself holding your breath, waiting to see what his reaction to your naked body will be. Your fingers brushed against the boning of your bra, sliding up the thin lace cup, higher up the bulging tops of your breasts, until Yunho's sweatshirt was next to you on the couch, and you were standing in front of him in nothing but your lace underwear. Remembering what he'd said, you cupped your breasts with your palms and squeezed lightly a few times before pulling the lace cup down and letting your tits fall out. Your nipples were instantly made hard by the coolness of the air. 

"You've got such nice tits, baby. Play with them for me. Show me how you like to please yourself." Jesus, what's going on right now? Your ex-boyfriends never treated you like this, eager to get into your cunt as fast as possible to get their own high. And that condescending tone of his voice, you would never have thought that Yunho could be like that, but damn, you were in love with it. Maybe even a bit too much for your own good.

'Mm, okay.' You closed your eyes tightly and concentrated on massaging and kneading your breasts, occasionally tracing the sensitive nipples and lightly scratching them with your fingernails, before wrapping your fingers around them and pulling. 

Your back arched, and your mouth opened in a loud moan. The sharp sensation of the rough stimulation sent a powerful rush of pleasure through your body. 

"You're so good for me; next time I'll suck your tits until you cum just from the feel of my mouth on your nipples."  The words made your pussy quiver, spurting out more moisture, and you moaned loudly, flicking your fingers over the hard, dark pink buds.

"You can't say such things..." You whimper at Yunho's vulgar words, but still, your body responds in the most delightful manner to this. 

"Stop me then, Chagi. Tell me that I should stop." Yunho says, kissing your clothed pussy gently and drooling even more on your panties.  The sensation of his kisses almost made you miss the moment when his fingers ran along your slit, lightly pressing the lace between your labia. The contrast between the lace fabric and the soft touch of his warm lips was making your body burn, and if he was going to continue to tease you like this, you were just going to go crazy.

"P-please... Please, Yunho." You whimpered, which made him stop teasing you for a moment, and he lifted his head to meet your gaze. You looked so fucking beautiful for him: your hands squeezing the swollen flesh of your tits, leaving the red fingerprints on them; your hair a total mess; your legs spread wide so he could see your pretty pussy; and your gaze completely unfocused and hazy. He was just getting started playing with you, and you looked so fucked already. 

"Please, what, baby? What do you want? Tell me, Chagi."

"I need more, please... Fuck me, Yunho. Make me cum on your fingers." You began to whimper, looking up at him with big, pleading eyes.

"Look at you; you're already such a slut to me, aren't you, Chagi? Your pretty little panties are all sticky and wet from the amount of slime leaking from your needy cunt. Do you want my fingers deep inside you?  Shall I make you squirt, baby?" Yunho's voice was dark and low as he lightly scraped his nail across your clit through the lace, and you screamed as your body began to tremble slightly as your cunt tightened around nothing at all. "You want that, don't you?"

"Mmm hmm." You moaned, shaking your head to confirm. Right now, you can barely concentrate on anything but the sensation of Yunho's presence beside you, his hand touching your wet pussy. When he touches you like this, you can't help but think about the size of his hands, the length of his fingers, and how deep they can go into you. 

Yunho's fingers hook into the lace of your panties before pulling them aside as he blows lightly on your pussy. A smug smirk spreads across his handsome lips as you're shrieking softly and your hips are shaking weakly from the intense stimulation.

"The words, Chagi, I need your words; otherwise, you won't get what you want so much. I could play with you all night long..." Yunho presses his fingers to your swollen clit, rubbing it in tight circles before scratching it with his fingernail, causing you to moan lewdly and raise your hips to get more of the burning sensation of euphoria that is spreading through your body from his touch. You are completely unaware of how much your dynamic with Yunho has changed in such a short time. You hadn't noticed the dark, domineering side of his personality before, cleverly hidden behind his chocolate eyes and adorable puppy behaviour. 

"Oh God, yes, I want it so badly. Please, Yunho, fuck me as deep as you can with your fingers. Make me squirt. I need it so badly..."

"Since you're asking me so nicely, baby, Who am I to refuse you?" 

Everything is happening too fast for you to be aware of it.  Yunho's long, flexible fingers slide easily into your cunt as the slightly rough pads of his fingers rub along the soft, tight walls of your pussy.

You moan pathetically. The sensation of pleasure mixes with the pain and flows through your body like hot lava as he forces your tender pussy to stretch around his fingers, your soft walls aching as they open up for him. He pushes his fingers deeper and deeper into you until the long appendages are inside of you all the way down to the base. His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing it in rough, tight circles as he goes. You let out a long, loud moan, so obscene you can hardly believe it's coming from you. But there's absolutely nothing you can do to stop it, especially when Yunho's beautiful, skilled fingers are delighting you. 

'Yunho...' His name flies out of your bitten lips with a soft, panting whimper. 

You lower your eyes down, your vision blurred with excitement, and through the lustful haze, you see how much his fingers are glistening with your juices as they thrust in and out, making slippery, wet noises with each movement of his hand. You're so fucking wet, it's almost embarrassing. 

"Do you like it when I fuck you with my fingers?' Yunho asks you with a smug smile as he carelessly pushes his fingers into your pussy. When he pulls them out of your hole, a huge amount of mucus comes out of the small opening, a sight that is so disgusting and erotic at the same time that it almost makes him cum. His hard dick, painfully squeezed between his underwear and the thick denim, throbs and leaks pre-cum. 

Yunho's throat dries up as he sees the thick sheen of your excitement covering the length of his fingers, and he sticks out his tongue to lick his lips. He runs his fingers along your folds, smearing as much of the slime as he can over them, watching as the thick and sticky strands of moisture stretch out behind his fingers. 

Your wetness shines everywhere: on your swollen labia, on your soft, silky folds, on the inside of your thighs, and he desperately wants to lick you. But he'll save that for another time; right now, it's all about making you cum just from his hands.

"Y-yeah, I like that so much. Fuck...". Your words turn into a long, drawn-out whimper as Yunho spreads the folds of your folds with his fingers and gently blows cool air over your swollen clit. He can clearly see how red and swollen your pussy is, and the excitement that flows from your quivering hole is gathering in the slippery puddle under your arse as you lie on the couch. 

"Fuck, you're so perfect—all pretty and flushed for me. I'm going to milk that sweet cunt of yours until you're a total wreck and you beg me to stop. Orgasm after orgasm, you're going to give me every last drop of you." Yunho plunges two fingers into your tight cunt once more, his long appendages easily opening you up and stretching the silky walls. He bends his fingers deep inside of you, pressing them perfectly against the small, super-sensitive bundle of nerves, and you almost lose it. 

You instantly scream in ecstasy, your eyes rolling up as the pleasure runs through your body like a surge of electricity, the tight walls of your pussy clenching rhythmically, thick streams of your sweet moisture dripping from your hole onto the palm of his hand and running down his veiny forearm. 

Yunho immediately picks up the pace and starts fucking you as if his life depended on it. With his other hand, he squeezes your thigh to keep you in place and to prevent you from closing your legs. 

As your hips start shaking violently, your groans turn to pathetic sobs, and your cunt begins to milk his fingers—your inner walls clench rhythmically around his fingers—Yunho knows you're close. He abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, and before you can react, he slaps you across your pussy with the open palm of his hand. You squeal at the searing contact, black spots dancing in front of your eyes as you sink into blinding bliss and feel a wave of incredible pleasure wash over you. 

But Yunho doesn't stop there; he slaps your pretty cunt several more times, each time a little bit harder than the last.

"God, you look gorgeous. We're almost there, baby, just a little bit more..." Yunho groans like he's about to come. But you are so lost in a thick haze of bliss that you are barely aware of what he is saying to you.

His fingers plunge into you again, this time even deeper, stroking over your most sensitive spot over and over again, almost bringing you to a state of semi-consciousness. Your body is tensed, your back is arched, and your hips are rolling wildly as he moves his hand. The knuckles of his fingers flex mercilessly as he aggressively caresses the sensitive, spongy stretch of nerve inside you. There is a genuine sense of euphoria coursing through your veins. The silky walls of your vagina clench together almost to the point of pain to prevent the movement of his fingers. 

The edges of your vision blur, and you feel the walls of your pussy begin to contract intensively, a sign that your climax is near.

"Yunho! Shit, I... I'm going to..." As your orgasm consumed you, your head was thrown back, and your mouth opened in a loud moan.  God, this must be exactly what Yunho had in mind when he told you that you were in need of a man, not a boy. You've been fucked, really fucked, for the first time in your life. But Yunho doesn't want to let you rest; instead, he continues to play with your throbbing pussy and sticks a third long finger into you with a dirty, obscene squelch.

"It's too much... Yuyu. Please, too much..." 

Your words were nothing more than noise as Yunho paid no attention to them and continued his merciless caresses. You had no choice but to accept what he was giving you. A pleasure that went so deep into you that it became almost unbearable. But it was exactly what you'd always wanted—the feeling that none of your exes had been able to give you. 

Yunho continued to twist and turn his fingers, touching the spongy and sensitive spot, and for a moment all you could see was white as you came for the second time. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably as your cum flowed uncontrollably down his arm and down his forearm as Yunho continued to push his fingers deep inside you, making your pussy squelch even louder, all the while keeping you at the height of your orgasm. 

Every time his finger tips touched your cervix, a delightful shiver ran through your body.

His other hand grabbed hold of your thigh, his long fingers digging roughly into the soft flesh, leaving black, stinging marks and nails that were almost scratched until they bled.

"Please, Yunho... I can't take it any longer. Please!" You begged, but all he did was laugh sombrely and  spread his fingers inside you, stretching you even further. "N-no, this is too much..."You were sobbing openly now as he lowered his head to lick the strips between your folds, occasionally circling your defenceless clit with his tongue, his silky hair tickling the inflamed skin on the inside of your thighs.

"Let go, Chagi, cum on my fingers; feel what it's like to be fucked by a man instead of a boy. Show me how you squirt, baby. Make a real mess of it for me." He said this without slowing down the pace of his movements at all.

You felt the familiar tension in your belly again, and the muscles in your thighs clenched as he suddenly pulled the palm of his hand away from your thigh and used two fingers to pinch your clit instead. The spiral in your stomach burst without warning, and then you came, but this time it was different for you: a huge wave of clear liquid erupted from your over-excited cunt and soaked Yunho's hand and his chin, flooding the couch beneath you and his white t-shirt. 

The lightning-like waves travelled all over your body, and you were practically panting from the hot pleasure that was washing over you. Yunho gently stroked your folds and whispered sweet words about how well you had done and what a good girl you had been for him as he let you enjoy your third orgasm. 

Finally, he pulled away and removed his fingers from your used, swollen cunt. His lips curled into a satisfied grin when he saw the mess you made.

You hiss with over-excitement as Yunho runs his tongue over your sensitive folds once again. His tongue swirls seductively over your quivering, leaking hole, and as he does so, you let out a strangled scream from your throat. 

When Yunho is completely satisfied, he releases you and raises the gaze of his beautiful chocolate eyes to your face, which is exhausted from several repeated orgasms.

"I told you, Chagi, it's not hard at all. You just need the perfect man, and in my hope, I will be that man for you.".

[r3starttt]

SHOW ME HOW

Read this or DNI

virgin!reader x ellie williams

SUMMARY: you thought the love you felt for ellie was in a platonic way, but maybe deep inside you the answer was already there, just waiting for it to be revealed, in a dream that Ellie is willing to help you with.

CW: smut, virginity loss, pet names (pretty girl, babe, baby, good girl), first kiss, corruption, thigh riding.

It’s been aproximately ten years since you first met her, Ellie Williams, your best friend and the person your whole family adores probably as much as they adore you. The only one that knows everything about you, the one that brings your true self, the one that’s seen almost everything.

You’ve been friends since forever, best friends. The type to have sleepovers, to hug and hold hands, cuddle and be all the time together, do everything together. And of course people said things and thought things about it, about how close you were and how best friends don’t to that, but the answer you two gave was always “we’re like family” and it was credible, enough.

It wasn’t a lie though, or so you thought since it was her idea to give the answer. She’d come up with most of the plans, most responses, most of everything. Not because you never suggested anything but because she’s way more stubborn than you are and there’s no way she let you take the big decisions, there’s also no way at all that she takes no as a response and you’re the biggest people pleaser she’s ever known.

And again, it’s been years of friendship, years of seeing each other in all type of ways for many different reasons. Years of what seemed like endless nights of talking nonstop, or days even. Months when there was no school or job or anything to do but be with each other all the time unless Ellie had plans with other girls “friends” that she’ll end up bragging about later. So you knew everything about each other, you’d tell everything detailed, you trusted each other.

And she’d always assure you that everything she did with or for you was for the better, same applied for her, in different ways of course. She’s never been problematic or mean or anything like that, but she was the one to make you smoke and drink for the first time in your life. And you, you only made her listen to your boring music for hours or have the cute and boring plans as she calls them. But at the end of the day, is all fair, you both do what’s best for each other based on your different needs.

That’s why you love her so much, and until this week you’ve thought it was pure platonic love, the one that you feel for your family, and she’s family. But she changed everything, everyone said it’ll eventually happen, and you always, always prayed to god that It didn’t, you failed.

Ellie spoke for hours about this new girl she’d just met, something casual as usual, but apparently it stocked to you because later that day you had a dream about it. And it doesn’t really bother you to have a dream like that, not even because she’s in it, because it doesn’t mean anything right? But it felt too good and too real to forget or ignore or let go. And the more you think about it, the more you keep feeling like it might actually mean something.

Because she was in fact hot, attractive in all possible ways, and she’s not just hot but also pretty, delicate in her way. She’s smart and sweet and knows you incredibly good, and she’s always supportive. And she shows she cares about you, even when she’s all awkward and shy about it she’d do anything to let you know she cares about you as much as you care about her.

And there’s nothing else that you love more than that, and now probably nobody else that can make you feel it, you won’t let anyone else try to fill that space. It’s just not the same even if you tried. It’s not Ellie.

So now that you’re currently at her house in her bed, cuddling, you’ve been thinking about this while situation, how to address it without being awkward for you and without being too explicit as well.

She doesn’t mind it, she knows you’ve had thoughts like this about girls before, but you’ve never done anything romantic with anyone before. Not even kissed anyone or hold hands, nothing. Not because you’re innocent or afraid but because you haven’t found someone worth your first experiences.

“What’re you thinking ‘bout?” you can feel her hands rubbing circles on your back as she speaks, suddenly stopping and letting go of her phone, making you groan. You’ve been watching random shit in her phone for hours, trying to keep her busy from reading you. “Nothing” your hands move unconsciously tighter around her, pressing the side of her stomach and making you feel the small laugh that your very fake ‘nothing’ had elicited in her.

“You’ve been zoning out, I thought you wanted to sleep but you’re clearly not tired, so” she let go of you, slowly readjusting herself on the bed so that she could properly rest her back on the headboard “what is it? Mhm?”

“It’s something sex related, you know it’s all awkward f’ me el” you shifted your eyes towards her half leaded ones, furrowing at her corky smile “see? you’re already laughing at me and I-“ your voices overlapped, making you stop talking first “You gotta find yourself a boy or girl or whatever. If you keep hoping for the one worth your body then you’re gonna fucking lose your mind” little does she know, you thought, laughing at her comment and motioning your hand as in a silent ‘forget it’

“I mean it” Ellie spoke again, clearly determined to make you speak “It’s your fault, maybe if you stopped telling me every detail of all the girls you ‘relieve stress’ with then I would keep being an innocent girl” you positioned your hands together, as if you were praying. Now sitting in front of her.

You stopped the moment she hit your arm, rolling your eyes “You have no innocence in your body, you’ve always been a fucking mess, specially with people” before you could say anything about it she spoke again “Tell me, you know I don’t care” she shrugged her shoulders, making a small pout. She looked particularly pretty today.

“Did you do something today? y’ look different” Ellie rolled her eyes, letting out a exaggerated groan “eyeliner maybe, now stop avoiding and tell me about whatever wet dream you had now” yup, there she was, best friend that knows everything. And the stupid friend that besides being people pleaser knows shit about lying.

“I fucking hate you” a pillow thrown by you made her open her eyes again, chuckling at how obvious you were. “remember what you told me the weekend? I dreamt about it… but you were there and it felt wrong” you mumbled the last words, audible enough for Ellie to understand. She didn’t care, neither did you, well, you tried not to care much. But your body reacted before your mind would let you do anything so you felt already sweating and practically burning. And again, she knew and she noticed, but didn’t care.

“Why? didn’t I fuck you good enough? I’m not worth your body either?” Ellie’s characteristic sheepish smile formed on her face as she got closer to you, leaning on her elbows and tilting her head, mocking you. “I’m not gonna give you details, I’m just saying I feel wrong… it doesn’t mean anything but-“ “it means something, don’t be a pussy and accept you might feel like fucking your best friend”

Hearing the words out loud was less frightening than you would expect, maybe it was Ellie’s voice but the idea wasn’t as disgusting as you felt it was. Not wrong either.

“Stop it, alright? you know I would never” her eyes felt like they were piercing your body, like they could read your mind, like she could eat you alive any moment. And the closer she moved to you the more stupid you felt “Ellie, please” you tried pushing her away once she was practically on top of you, she was playing of course, and she would stop. “You seem to like it, tell me what you dreamt of, Mhm?” Or maybe she meant it this time.

You weren’t sure what to do or say, she’s never played like this with you, and you’ve never even kissed anyone. Yet before you could try anything she laughed. Her hands were pressed on top of yours, sinking in the mattress along your bodies. And her face was so close to yours her mocking laugh brushed your cheeks. You were craving her now.

She let go of you, resting her body against the headboard again and shifting her eyes towards the sides of the bed, looking for an empty space on the wooden tables to place her phone. “Come here” her hands patted her lap, spreading her legs to make some space for you.

And so you did, crawling to her lap and sitting comfortably on it, positioning your legs in between hers. Ellie’s hands slowly cupped your face “I’m doing my job as a friend, this doesn’t count if you don’t want it too, yeah?” a small laugh brushed her lips, mocking your noticeable lost eyes that were wandering all over her face, from her eyes to her lips as she spoke.

She’d made a mess out of you already, without even touching you. But her tenderness, her voice, her body, the way she felt snd smell, everything had a specific effect on you that had been hiding for a long while. It was like drinking for the first time.

Her lips pressed on yours, it was a tender kiss, sweet and gentle. It didn’t last long “it’s okay, it’s only natural baby” her hands moved from your face to your thighs, caressing every inch of them in the most delicate way ever. Nothing you could ever imagine on your own.

So you kissed her again, now with an idea of what to do but letting her guide your every moves. Her tongue eventually got involved as well, dancing with yours and filling your mouth with the most delicious motions ever. Again, nothing you could ever imagine in your own.

You could feel the heat and wetness increase in between your legs, ashamed for getting like this so fast but too focused on Ellie’s body to actually care. She purposely lifted the leg you were sitting on, shaking it the moment she felt her knee against your cunt. “You can move… it’s alright” she mumbled in between kisses, leading your waist with her hands so you could grind on her.

You knew what she liked, based on everything she’d told you before, so you did what you could, moaning on her mouth as she liked it, and letting her guide you as well. You added pressure on your own, riding her leg practically, gently jumping on it whenever you felt like you needed more.

“Yeah, just like that baby. You’re doing so good” her hands tucked your dress on your panties, right above your waist so you could move freely. Then she pushed you closer, making you rest your head on her neck. And you took the chance to do something you’ve dreamt of, tasting it and leaving marks on it along wet kisses that kept making her as wet as you.

You could hear her small whines in your ear every time your kisses an grinding combined, she could cum just by your touch, and so could you. But what was the fun in that?

“What did you dream?” her hands moved back to your ass, guiding it over her thigh, slowly. “Uhm…f-fuck” you couldn’t speak properly, too focused on the sensation “your fingers” you managed to say. It was pathetic for both, to be enjoying this so much. It didn’t feel right, but it didn’t count right?

“That all?” you shocked your head, feeling a knot of pleasure forming on your stomach and your legs getting weaker at every movement Ellie guide your body to do. “I was…on my knees” too shy to say the words out loud you gulped, hoping she’d understand “yeah? what happened first?” The grip on you tightened the moment she noticed you getting closer to your climax, making every move painfully slower “Y-Your fingers… please”

“What a good girl, already begging” her hands grabbed your waist, tight enough to make you stop “take it off, I need to see you whole or I won’t do anything” she gripped your dress as she spoke, pulling the hem of it. You hesitated before doing it, this was new for you, and for the first time ever you felt genuinely innocent with her, so dumb and ashamed of yourself.

Her lips took you out of trance, pressing them on your temple and murmuring something in between “it’s okay” kiss “you can” kiss “trust me” kiss “please baby, just let me see you” and now her eyes were in front of yours, she knew how to use the puppy eyes. You nodded, feeling Ellie’s hands slowly move to the back of your dress, unsipping it.

You stood on your knees, in between Ellie’s legs. You could feel your dress loosening as you heard the zip lowering down your body until it stopped at your lower back. You helped Ellie remove it, raising your arms so she could finally take it off, revealing your bare chest immediately, accompanied by your panties, that were removed as well.

Being completely naked in front of Ellie felt right, it didn’t count, this whole experience. But how you wish it did. The way her excitement is revealed by her eyes, wandering all over you and taking note of every mole, mark, anything that’s in your body and it’s usually unnoticed. Her eyes, her freckles, her hair, her touch and voice, all so gentle yet so hungry. She’s starving already, and you adore that.

Her breathing became erratic as how inviting you looked, she needed to touch you, to hear you and savour you whole.

Ellie tapped the sides of your waist, pushing you carefully and somehow not breaking eye contact. She need you but couldn’t get you as she wanted in her current position, so once she got you sitting in front of her, patiently waiting, she started to take her clothes off.

Being at her house, with you, she wasn’t wearing more than a hoodie she’s probably been wearing for days already. and her usual pair of boxers, already drenched under some black shorts. Ellie was quickly, motioning her hand once she finished so you could sit on her lap again.

You obeyed, sitting on her and waiting for her to instruct your movements again. Both her index and middle finger brushed your lips. You looked at her, furrowing your brows a little “open” Ellie murmured, opening her own mouth as well.

She slowly introduced them inside your mouth, unconsciously smiling at the pretty image in front of her. You took them in, brushing them with your tongue and covering them with your saliva. They moved in and out of your mouth, slowly. “good girl”

Her free hand was resting on your thigh, making small circles near your hip bone with her thumb. You wanted to move, you needed it, but the fear of making a mistake was bigger, it wouldn’t count though, but something inside you felt like it might.

Her fingers came out of your mouth, you noticed the string of saliva connecting them with your lips, letting out your tongue one las time to cut it. “You’re being so good f’ me baby” her voice came out slightly husky, breathing brushing your lips as she spoke.

Her hand trailed down your body until it came to your clit, massaging it painfully slowly and making you sigh in pleasure. She started slow, making small circles on it as her mouth kept occupied by your hardened nipples, her eyes kept fixated on you as she did her every move.

You tried pressing yourself on her, delicately coordinating your body to her motions and rubbing yourself against her fingers.

Her fingers stopped moving on your clit suddenly, moving now up and down your folds until she decided to finally let you have what you wanted, teasing your arousal by pressing the tip of her fingers right above it.

“Ellie…” you whimpered, desperately pressing yourself again her fingers. A ‘pop’ made you look down, realizing how badly she’d been covering both of your breasts with saliva “what baby?” her chin pressed in between them, looking straight into your eyes “I need you, I want you to fuck me” you begged, tightening your fists besides each side of your body, fully desperate “please”

“So pretty…asking for me” Ellie nodded, bringing your face closer to her as her fingers made their way inside you, motioning in and out of your aching cunt. She started slow and gentle, caressing your back until she heard those pretty moans you let out, and her name in small whimpers.

So she did it faster. And you did your job too, riding her fingers at some point eventually, the way they curved inside you, her knuckles hitting the outside of your cunt whenever she did it too hard and how deliciously she kept on rubbing your clit with her thumb. It was impossible for you to keep immobile.

“El, fuck…gonna cum” her smile widened, moving her face to your neck and leaving a tail of wet kisses on it, she murmured a ‘yeah?’ to which you nodded desperately, both increasing its movements until the pleasure became overwhelming, making you press you whole weight on Ellie as you got to your climax. Covering her whole hand in your juices.

“You made a mess pretty girl, mind me helping?” her fingers kept on moving some seconds after you came, abruptly removing them, eliciting a small whimper out of your lips.

You could feel your inner thighs covered in wet, she tried cleaning some of it with the rest of your thighs before moving her hand up your face again. You already knew what to do, licking them and flavoring your own taste.

She moved her face closer to yours as well, removing her fingers out of your mouth once you licked your juices off and pressing her lips on yours one last time “gotta clean you, yeah? you did good, just rest babe”

-

reblogs are very much welcomed <3

Check this !!! FREE PALESTINE

[ohbueckers]

YOUR SECRETS ARE SAFE WITH ME. she a good girl, for me she a slut.

ONE-SHOT! pairing, paige bueckers x reader. notes, march madness p has been heavy on my mind, like the EDITS and when this song was trending mmm so mayyybe you can expect some stuff. this is also her song idc idc. warnings, cheating, sexual content 〔 absolute filth i’m sorry. 〕

your heart stutters. you’re not ready for this. not with her eyes on you like they’ve always been—hungry and knowing. but there really is no avoiding it now. you’ve put it off for too long.

he’s already pushing himself off the bar, motioning for you to follow. you catch sight of paige from the corner of your eye—leaning against the far wall, her broad, all worked-out shoulders relaxed, fingers tapping against the neck of a half-empty beer bottle. she’s surrounded by her teammates, some friends, but it’s like none of them exist in her orbit.

she sees him before she sees you walking toward her, but once your boyfriend’s hand finds its place on the small of your back, her eyes lock on yours, and you could’ve sworn they flared darker. she looks like she’s been waiting all night, lips curling into that slow, lazy smirk—the one that knows exactly what you’re trying so hard to forget.

shit. you swallow thickly, feeling the heat crawl up your neck. you’re steps away now, too late to back out.

“yo, bueckers!” your boyfriend calls out as you approach, his hand squeezing your hip like a casual claim. he’s smiling like there’s nothing in the world wrong, like this is just a chance meeting with one of uconn’s basketball stars, particularly onehis girlfriend has been spending so much time with. he doesn’t know. he doesn’t have a clue.

he’s pure. too pure, and too fucking oblivious.

“what’s up?” her voice is calm, and you hear the smile in them as you avoid her gaze. she sounds way too happy. when you look up, you see it. it’s the same look she gave you hours ago, right before her hands had your legs shaking.

you try to stay steady, plastering a neutral smile on your face. “this is, uh… this is paige.” you clear your throat, hating how awkward you sound, but you can feel her sizing you up. “paige, this is, um—”

“nylan,” your boyfriend cuts in, extending his hand, all confidence. paige stares at it for a second, like she’s deciding whether or not to play nice, before finally gripping his hand. her grip is firm, controlled, but the look in her eyes tells a whole different story. azzi and kayla wave at you, and you wave back, silently wishing by the grace of God they’d come interrupt this conversation.

“the paige bueckers,” he laughs, pulling his hand back. “she’s always talking about how great you are, but i was starting to think she was hiding you or something.”

paige’s eyes move to yours, then back to him. “she says i’m great?” she leans forward just slightly, the corner of her mouth twitching. “that’s funny. she’s never mentioned you.”

your stomach drops at the lie, a cold sweat breaking across your skin as you throw her a sharp look, willing her to shut up. but paige just shrugs, like she’s enjoying watching you squirm. you’re glad nylan’s too pressed into the moment to notice.

“how’d y’all meet?” he asks, taking a sip of his drink, curiosity growing. “i mean, you never really told me,” he mumbles to you more than anyone else.

paige shifts her weight, tongue swiping across her bottom lip before she starts speaking. “we met at a party last semester.” she pauses, letting the words sink in as her eyes shift to you. again. “she was a good girl back then, real sweet.” you feel like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff.

your boyfriend laughs, slinging a tipsy arm around your neck.“yeah, she’s always been a good girl.”

paige’s crosses her arms over her chest, eyes boring into you, and it’s like they’re trying to make sure you haven’t forgotten. how could you?

earlier that evening …

the room is warm, and your initial visit to past some time before seeing your boyfriend had turned absolutely filthy. the scent of her sweat mixing with yours, your legs tangled in the sheets. paige’s fingers press into your stomach as she thrusts into you, lips pressed against your neck, her breath hot and heavy against your skin.

you were trying to keep quiet, but it was worth nothing. paige didn’t care. she was relentless, her hips grinding into yours, her hand sliding between your legs to rub circles over your swollen clit in order to get you off quicker. for the third time. the pleasure was too much, too intense, and you couldn’t help the moans that escaped you as she filled you over and over.

“fuck—paige—” you whimpered, gripping her biceps, manicured nails leaving crescent shaped indents in her skin. you try to push her away, hands pressing weakly at her chest, but paige isn’t having it. she furrows her eyebrows, lifting her body to hover over you as her grip tightens, keeping you pinned right where she wants.

“i can—t.” you try to remind her you’ve got somewhere to be—nylan waiting for you in just a couple of hours—but it’s useless. paige knows you. knows exactly what your body craves and how you can’t resist her, even when you want to. especially when you want to.

“sure you can,” she replies, easily able to make out your words. she thrusts into you again, deep and slow, and you catch sight of the veins in her hands—the way they bulge under her skin, tensed with the effort of holding you still. she’s holding one leg up now, hitting you at an angle. “i’m right there, ain’t i, baby? give me one more.”

your back arches off the bed as you nod, even when your body’s screaming that you can’t, a choked cry slipping from your lips before you can stop it, and paige’s lips curl into a smirk, her eyes dark as she watches you fall apart.

it’s too much—you’re so close, and she’s not letting up, not giving you a moment to breathe. “such a slut. take that shit.” she’s biting down on her bottom lip, eyebrows knitted together as she takes in the wetness between your legs. she swears she can feel you, past the vibrations coursing through her on her end.

you’re mumbling something, but you can’t even remember what it is—your mind’s too scattered, too fucked out to form any coherent thoughts. her thumb brushes over your bottom lip, almost teasingly, before slipping two fingers into your mouth. “suck,” she orders, and you do. without thinking, you’re sucking on her fingers like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. and even if you were thinking, you’d obey anyway. you’re sure you’d do anything she said, because before you met paige, you’d never once questioned your sexuality. never thought twice about how a girl could make you feel.

but paige? paige has made you feel things you’ve never felt with a man in your whole twenty-two years of life. nobody could fuck you this good. you’d said it before and you’d say it again.

she chuckles low, clearly satisfied, hips still moving against you. “my good girl. go ‘head and gimmie that,” she orders, clearly referring to your orgasm.

“fuck, fuck, fuck!” before you know it, you’re coming hard—too hard—your entire body shaking. her blonde hair forms a curtain around her face, falling gracefully over her shoulders as she’s right there with you, quieter, but feeling it just as intensely.

you’re biting down on her fingers, moaning around them, as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through you. paige pulls her fingers from your mouth, slipping them to your jaw, forcing you to look at her. “fuck, y’look so good like this,” she breathes, breathless, moving her digits between your legs to collect some of your slick, bringing it to her lips for a taste. “messy as hell.”

she finally collapses next to you, the bed shifting under her weight. you’re still catching your breath, chest heaving as you stare up at the ceiling, trying to ground yourself. after a moment, you roll your head to look at her. “p,” you start, your voice soft, a bit raspy. “if you meet him later… you can’t…” you trail off. “—tell him.”

paige lets out a chuckle, her head lolling to the side as she grins at you, like the thought had never crossed her mind. “you think i’m stupid?” she teases.

your eyes trail over her, letting out a small, relieved breath, your lips twitching into a smirk as she reaches out, gently brushing some of your disheveled hair out of your face. her touch is almost tender, a definite contrast to how she’d just wrecked you.

she leans in closer, lips brushing the shell of your ear as she murmurs, “i won’t tell, baby. y’secret safe with me.”

at the bar …

she’d kept her promise, precisely.

nylan presses a kiss to your temple, but you don’t feel the lingering wetness of it like you normally do. not when every inch of your skin still burns with the memory of paige’s touch.

paige stands there, staring at you with a smirk, still leaning against the wall like she’s done absolutely nothing wrong.

and maybe she hasn’t. because after all, she’s the only one who knows just how good you can be. not to mention how well you both can keep a secret, too.

[requiemforthepoets]

hii do you write for franco? if yes can i request a fic where reader is short and insecure about her height so she’s afraid their relationship won’t survive his “f1 career” cause of the lifestyle and all the girls he’s going to meet so despite really loving him she tries to breakup with him but he won’t let her?

tell me that you’re still mine, tell me that we’ll be just fine 𖦹 FC43

PAIRINGS: franco colapinto x female!reader

SUMMARY: when you found out that franco will be racing for williams racing, you were so proud of him. though at the back of your mind, you can’t help but overthink about your relationship with him now that he’s finally in f1.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: hi! thank you so much for sending your request. it’s my first time writing for franco, but i really had fun. i hope you’ll like this one and it’s up to what you were expecting. enjoy! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, insecurities (mostly comparing self to others), cursing, low self esteem, overthinking, anxiety, and no use of y/n

As you stand in the Williams garage, you can clearly hear the hum of the whole circuit buzzing all around, and you can’t help but feel so proud. Franco had just achieved what he had been dreaming of since childhood—his first official race in Formula 1. It should have been one of the happiest moments of your life, watching him stand there, helmet in hand, chatting animatedly with the engineers, that wide grin plastered on his face. You knew how hard he worked for this, how many nights you spent listening to his dreams, encouraging him through the frustrations of karting, and celebrating every win, every milestone. You were there through it all, and here he was now—your Franco, living his dream.

However, alongside the pride that you were feeling, a bitter feeling also crept in. It had been lurking at the back of your mind for days now, only growing stronger with each passing moment. It was not about Franco’s career, but more about where you fit into his new world. The glitz and glamor, cameras that seemed to follow every move, the polished and perfect people that surrounded him—people you had never imagined yourself fitting in with.

Lily, Alex’s girlfriend, had been nothing but sweet to you all weekend. You bonded with her quickly, her kind words and warmth is a welcoming comfort amidst the chaos. Yet, as much as you liked her, being around someone so gorgeous and effortlessly poised had only made you feel even smaller. You weren’t tall or glamorous like her or the other WAGs, nor were you used to the attention, and you barely have a successful career. You were just…you. A university student trying to get by through her classes, someone who barely knew what to do when a camera pointed your way, and someone who couldn’t help but wonder if you were truly cut out for this kind of life.

When Franco finally made his way back to you, you could hardly breathe. He greeted you with that same wide smile and a soft tender kiss on the lips, his eyes still sparkling from the thrill of the race.

“Can you believe it?” He laughed, pulling you into a hug. “I can’t believe I just raced in F1. This is really insane.”

You smiled weakly, arms wrapped around him. Trying to steady your racing heart. “I’m so proud of you,” you murmured against his chest. But the words felt heavy, there was something you needed to say, something you dreaded.

After the media frenzy died down and the team began to clear out, you knew it was time. You asked Franco if the two of you can go to his driver’s room, away from the lights, cameras, and the noise. He nodded and led you towards his driver’s room, completely oblivious to the storm brewing inside of you.

When you reached his driver’s room, he locked the room to give you two some privacy. Franco quickly sensed that something was off with you, immediately frowning.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, as your hands shook as you fumbled with the words. “Franco…I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Do what?” His voice is gentle but confused.

“This. All of this.” You gestured around vaguely. “I don’t belong in this kind of world. I don’t look like the other girls in this kind environment, I don’t act like them. I just feel like…I’m not cut out for this, you know. For you.”

He blinked at you, and then—he laughed. A soft incredulous sound that only made your chest tighten. “You’re joking, right?” But you just shook your head, throat tightening painfully. “I’m serious, Franco.”

His smile faltered, eyes searching your face, and then he grew serious. “You’re breaking up with me?” He sounded like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing at all.

You bit your lip, feeling your resolve crack under the weight of his words. “I think I have to.”

Franco stepped closer, shaking his head in disbelief. “No. No way. Hell no. You’re not doing this.” He grabbed your hands, holding them tightly. “Tell me why. What’s really going on?”

You stared at the ground, unable to meet his eyes. How could you even tell him? How could you put into words the overwhelming insecurities that you had been drowning in.

“I’m not enough for this life, for your life,” you whispered, voice barely audible. “I’m just…me. You deserve someone who can handle all of this, someone who doesn’t feel like they are drowning every time the cameras turn their way. I’m scared that this will change us, that it will change you.”

Franco squeezed your hands tighter, forcing you to look at him. “You’re scared?” He asked softly. “Of what exactly? That I’ll stop loving you because I’m in F1 now?”

You nodded, chest tightening as tears began to fill your eyes. “I’m not like them, Franco. I don’t belong here.”

He pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on top of your head. “Listen to me, and you listen well,” he whispered. “You’ve been with me through everything, literally everything. Since my karting days. You’re the one I want with me, not some random model, not someone from this kind of environment. You.” He gently cupped your face, making sure that you were looking directly into his eyes. “I’m not breaking up with you. Not because of this, not because of anything. I love you so much. If this life makes you uncomfortable, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

You shook your head, still overwhelmed with doubts. “But I don’t know how to—”

“I don’t care,” he interrupted softly. “I don’t really care about any of that. All I care about is you. I’m not losing you just because you think that you’re not enough. You’ve always been more than enough for me.”

Tears finally spilled over, and Franco wiped them away with his thumb. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, okay?” He added.

You let out a choked laugh, burying your face in his chest. “Okay,” you whispered, feeling the weight of your fears slowly start to lift.

Franco kissed the top of your head as he kept you close, his voice soft but firm. “Look at me,” he said, lifting your chin so your eyes met his. “There’s no one else I see in my future but you. No one else who matters like you do. I don’t care about the noise or what other people say. Let them talk all they want, I don’t give a shit. You’re the most important person in my life.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket chasing away the chill of insecurity. You couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered, how much you wanted to believe him. “But people will judge, Franco. They already are.”

Franco shook his head, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “I don’t care about them. They don’t know you like I do. I’ve seen you at your best and your worst, and I’ve loved you through it all. That’s what matters, not their opinions.”

You bit your lip, trying to push away the lingering doubts. “It’s just I don’t want to hold you back. You deserve someone who—”

“I already have someone I deserve,” he cut you off, voice unwavering. “You’ve been there for me through everything, you believed in me when no one else did, even when I wasn’t sure I believed in myself. I’m not letting you go because of some stupid insecurities about fitting in with this world. I don’t need someone from this world. All I need is you.”

Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from doubt or fear. They were from the overwhelming love you felt at that moment. “You’re sure?” You whispered, voice trembling. “You’re really sure?”

Franco smiled, the kind of smile that made everything else melt away. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. You’re my future, not them. Not anything else. Just you.”

As you stood there in his arms, you let yourself believe it. Because the way he looked at you, the way he spoke, it left no room for any doubts. You were the one he wanted, and that was enough.

After a long moment of silence, just feeling the comfort of being in his arms, you finally pulled back, wiping the last of your tears and giving him a small and sweet smile. The tension that had been weighing on you had lifted, already been replaced by the familiar warmth you always felt around Franco.

You wrinkled your nose playfully, trying to lighten the mood. “Okay, as sweet as this moment is, you really need to freshen up. You stink.” You teased, giving him a playful nudge.

Franco let out a laugh, the sound light and easy. “What? No way, I smell like pure victory,” he grinned, pulling you back into his arms, purposely trying to rub his post-race sweat on you.

“Franco!” You squealed, trying to push him away. “Ew, Franco! You’re all sweaty!”

He laughed harder, his arms tightening around you for a second before he finally let you go, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, I’ll go and freshen up,” he said, his grin still wide. “But don’t think I didn’t notice how you were crying on me. If anything, you owe me for that.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine, fine. I’ll owe you. Just go clean up before I regret taking you back,” you teased, earning an exaggerated gasp from him.

Franco winked at you before heading off to freshen up, not forgetting to steal a kiss from you. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ve got plans for us to celebrate.” He threw a playful look over his shoulder.

You shook your head with a laugh, feeling lighter than you had in days. The doubts that once felt overwhelming now seemed small in comparison to the love you shared. Franco was right—together, you could figure out everything, just like how you both always do.

[gotta-winwin]

OT13 Reaction -- to winning at MAMA awards

masterlist

a/n: in celebration of our boys winning both AOTY awards at MAMA last night. i am so incredibly proud i feel like i raised them or something. like guys- it is that serious they are my family and im going insane.

SCOUPS: you're the first one he's calling once he's offstage - he's dialling your number and a whole string of nonsense rattles off him the moment you pick up. he can't string together proper words as you congratulate him. tells you how fucking happy the boys are - you should've seen them, love - did you see woozi crying? and DK - he smiled so big - needs you to bring him back to earth and remind him that this is his award too. he deserves it just as much as they do.

JEONGHAN: he's literally been bored out of his mind as you guys sit at home, watching the award show live. the only times he's acc been paying full attention was whenever groups he knew personally were on screen - and even then - you know you're losing him to how tired he is. lets out the tiniest, babiest gasp when seventeen is announced as the winner. is crying but turns away so you can't call him out on it.

JOSHUA: he runs home to you right after their dinner together and collapses into your arms. he's spent from the sheer chaos and adrenaline. mumbles sweet nothings about how this award is also yours. we won, baby. we share everything - this award is because of you - all because of you.

JUN: he's hiding out in his filming trailer so he can watch the award show through your phone on facetime - it's grainy and glitchy as HELL but he does not care. there's a 3 second lag when seventeen's announced as the winner - so he can hear you screaming but he doesn't know why. his mouth drops once the wifi catches up and he's practically glowing the entire day on set.

HOSHI: comes home wasted and a bundle of pure energy. he's on a high from the win- rushes home to yell into your ear how ecstatic he is as he tackles you for a hug. tells you he's literally so down to name your firstborn child AOTY just cause.

WONWOO: he comes home rather calm despite the chaotic evening he just had. runs you through his whole day- from getting his makeup done to winning the award to having celebratory dinner. you sit and listen happily, cause this is the most yapping you've ever seen this man do and you're SO happy. finishes his yap session by telling you that you make it all worth it - you're the real award, not MAMA.

WOOZI: tells you not to watch their acceptance speech even though he knows you already did :( is uber embarrassed at how emotional his speech was. I was gonna go up and accept it like a nonchalant cool mysterious man but NO! I just had to cry. he doesn't talk about the win much to you, preferring to just enjoy a quiet night in after the crazy evening. whispers to you once you fall asleep that this is why he does music and thanks you and the boys for being his biggest fans.

THE8: sends you the badass photo of him with all their trophies, followed with a long paragraph about how grateful he is to have you next to him through it all. he's unbelievably bright and happy for the next couple weeks, resulting in you kind of missing sassy Hao and asking for him back. side eyes you when you ask and quips "you didn't win a daesang- I did." Well...he's back ig.

MINGYU: comes home and the first thing he says to you is: aren't you proud i didn't cry? pouts when you rewind the clip to point out: he did in fact cry, he was just hiding his ginormous body behind his members. vows to you he won't cry the next time they win- and yes, he promises there will be a next time. and many after that.

DK: a bundle of joy upon his arrival home. keeps telling you he doesn't know what he did to deserve all this- completely floored when you start ranting about why he deserves it all. blushes and hides his face cause the compliments have him shy.

SEUNGKWAN: comes home fully ready to unleash his bragging rights. asks you to only address him by AOTY daesang winner for the next hour, until the joke gets old and he just wants to relax with you. gets a little sappy retelling stories about their trainee days as you both walk down memory lane together.

VERNON: hands you a wad of cash the moment he enters your shared apartment. oh well. i lost the bet. he literally bet against his team winning and ofc you took him on it cause obv seventeen is gonna win?? tells you he was confident svt was going to win he just wanted an excuse to give you cash.

DINO: promises to shout you out the next time svt wins a daesang. obv you don't believe him, so he defends himself, promising that he will 100% name drop his girlfriend on global television for shits and giggles. yeah, i'll just grab the mic and say "i dedicate this award to my WIFE" and watch the internet explode. why not?

[rafestify]

Love Letter — Rafe Cameron

Summary : A calming day at the beach is ruined by Topper and Kelce, but it ends with Rafe teasing Sweet!Reader about the love letter she wrote for him.

Rafe Cameron x Sweet!Reader

Warning : Swearing (english is not my first language)

A/N : pure fluff oh my god this one is so cute! and this one is based on a request :) enjoy!

On days like this, when the sun dipped low and the world felt softer, it had always been me and Rafe’s favorite place—our secluded spot on the beach, hidden from the world, where only the ocean bore witness. Just us, lying close on the warm sand, the gentle sound of waves mingling with our quiet laughter and whispered dreams. The sky above shifted in color, fading from blue to hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow across his face. I found myself watching him as he spoke, captivated by the light in his eyes, the way his smile curved in a way that was only for me. We talked about everything and nothing, losing track of time, our voices blending into the soft rhythm of the tide. His hand brushed mine, and we both pretended not to notice, but the warmth lingered, a silent promise, a wordless bond.

In those stolen moments, it felt like the world was ours. Just the two of us, lying there, our hearts open, our secrets laid bare, the ocean surrounding us like a gentle embrace, holding every whisper, every shared look, close. There was a peace, a rightness in being there together, hidden from everyone else, a perfect stillness that only we understood. The world faded away, and in its place, it was just me and him, lost in each other and this quiet paradise.

As we lay there, tangled in the warmth of the sand and each other’s company, I suddenly remembered my purse sitting in the car. It had something I wanted to share with him, but I’d forgotten it in the rush to get there. With a slight smile, I sat up, brushing the sand off my arms. “Hold that thought,” I said, playfully tapping his arm as I got to my feet. “I just realize I left my purse in the car.” Rafe raised an eyebrow, watching me with a smirk. “Need some help carrying it?” he teased, his eyes alight with that mischievous glint I knew all too well.

“I can handle it,” I chuckled, starting to walk up the beach, but his gaze lingered, and I felt a flutter of excitement building in my chest. I knew he would still be there, waiting in that same easy way he always did.

The walk to the car was short, but with every step, I could feel my heartbeat quicken, the anticipation building for what I was about to show him. Inside my purse, there was a small, folded paper—a note I’d written to him ages ago, back when things were simpler, but also when my feelings felt bigger than words could hold. I’d tucked it away, waiting for a moment like this.

When I got back to our spot, my steps slowed as I noticed Rafe was no longer alone. Topper and Kelce had joined him, the three of them deep in conversation, laughing and talking about God knows what. I stood back a little, close enough to see them but hidden enough that they didn’t notice me. There was something in their posture, the way Topper leaned in with that smug smirk, and Kelce rolled his eyes, that made me hesitate. I clutched the note tightly in my hand, feeling a twist of uncertainty I hadn’t expected.

“Man, I still can’t believe you’re wasting so much time with her,” Topper laughed, nudging Rafe with his elbow. “I mean, it’s not like she’s anything special. She’s just… around, you know?”

Kelce snorted, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, Rafe. It’s like you’re trying to be her hero or something. Doesn’t exactly scream you, you know? Why are you even bothering? Everyone knows she’s just another pretty face who’s gotten way too comfortable hanging around us.”

My heart sank as their words hit me, a stinging ache spreading through my chest. I glanced at Rafe, hoping, maybe, he would say something to shut them down, to defend me, to prove that this connection we shared was real. But he stayed silent, staring down at the sand. I couldn’t quite read his expression, but his silence felt louder than any words could. Topper continued, his voice low but laced with arrogance. “Honestly, you could do so much better, man. She’s just… I don’t know, a little too soft. Always trailing after you like some lost puppy. Doesn’t it ever get old?”

I bit my lip, my fingers tightening around the note until the paper crumpled. The words I’d written for Rafe felt suddenly too vulnerable, too exposed, like they were a foolish dream I’d clung to. I didn’t know why I thought things could be different—that somehow, with him, I’d found something real. It was naive, maybe, to think that he saw me the way I’d come to see him. Kelce’s laugh grated in my ears as he slapped Rafe’s shoulder. “Guess it’s good to keep her around for a while, right? A little entertainment until something better comes along?”

I swallowed, the taste bitter, and a coldness settled in. I backed away slowly, not wanting to hear anymore. I realized, painfully, that maybe they were right—or at least, that Rafe’s silence meant he didn’t disagree. The note I’d been so excited to share with him felt heavy in my hand. I stood there for a moment longer, my heart sinking, watching as Rafe’s face twisted with something dark and intense. He leaned forward, cutting off Topper mid-laugh with a voice low but unmistakably angry. I couldn’t make out exactly what he said, but I could see the sharpness in his eyes, the firmness in his tone, and something about it made Topper and Kelce’s smirks falter.

They looked at each other, clearly surprised, and after a moment, Kelce cleared his throat awkwardly, his gaze shifting to the ground. Topper scoffed, rolling his eyes, but I caught him muttering, “Man, you’re pussy whipped,” before turning and giving Rafe a parting shove on the shoulder, a bit harder than friendly. As they walked off, I could hear the murmur of their disbelief fading with each step until the only sound left was the ocean crashing softly against the shore. Rafe watched them go, shoulders tense, hands curled into fists at his sides. For a second, he just stared at the sand, and then he exhaled, running a hand through his hair as if to shake off whatever tension was still lingering. He hadn’t seen me yet, and I could see a slight slump to his shoulders, an almost unguarded vulnerability that I didn’t often see.

Taking a deep breath, I walked back toward him, my earlier hurt still there but softened by the way he’d sent them off. I sat down beside him, close enough that our arms brushed, and he turned, finally noticing me. There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, but he quickly softened, his gaze lingering on mine, almost as if he were searching for something.

“You heard all that, didn’t you?” he asked quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Most of it,” I admitted, feeling the weight of everything I overheard but trying to keep my voice steady. “I didn’t mean to, but—”

He shook his head, an apology shadowing his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said, his tone raw. “I didn’t know they’d talk about you like that. I should’ve…” He trailed off, frustrated, and for a moment, he clenched his jaw, looking away. “It’s okay,” I said softly, reaching over to place my hand on his arm. “You didn’t have to say anything. But… thank you for standing up for me.”

He glanced down at my hand, then back up at me, his gaze softening even more. “I didn’t like the way they talked about you. You’re more than that, you know?”

My heart fluttered at his words, and I felt the hurt slowly dissipating, replaced by something warmer, deeper. We sat there for a moment in silence, our hands brushing in the sand, the unspoken bond between us stronger than any words they could’ve thrown my way. The waves rolled gently in the background, like a silent promise, and for the first time since I overheard them, I felt truly at peace.

We sat in silence for a moment, the waves crashing rhythmically behind us. Rafe’s words from earlier echoed in my mind, slowly easing the hurt that Topper and Kelce’s comments had left. I glanced down at the crumpled paper still clutched in my hand, my pulse quickening with both nervousness and anticipation. This felt like the perfect moment to share what I’d written.

Taking a deep breath, I smoothed out the paper and held it out to him, a little shyly. “Rafe, there’s something I wanted to show you,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. He tilted his head, his brow furrowing in curiosity. “What is it?”

“It’s just something I wrote a while back,” I explained, biting my lip. He took the paper from my hand, his fingers brushing against mine, sending a thrill through me. As he unfolded it, I watched his expression shift, curiosity transforming into intrigue. “Is this a love letter?” he asked, his eyes flicking back to mine, a playful smirk forming on his lips.

“You wish,” I replied, trying to sound casual, though my heart was racing. “More like a confession, actually.”

Rafe glanced down, his eyes scanning the lines I had written, a grin spreading across his face as he read. I watched, my stomach fluttering nervously, until he reached a particular line that made his smile widen into a full-blown smirk.

even though he can be a dickhead sometimes, he's a hot dickhead for sure xx

He looked up at me, his expression a mix of amusement and mock indignation. “A dickhead, huh? Is that what you think I am?” he teased, leaning closer, a playful glint in his eye. I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up as I felt a rush of warmth. “What can I say? You did have your moments, you know.”

“Moments?” he echoed, feigning offense as he crossed his arms dramatically. “I’ll have you know I had many moments! Just asked Topper and Kelce!”

I rolled my eyes, trying to suppress another giggle. “I’d rather not ask them anything,” I replied. “But it was true! You could be really infuriating sometimes. But—” I paused, searching for the right words, “it was part of what made you, well, you. And I liked you for it.”

His smirk softened into something genuine, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “So, I was hot and infuriating. That’s a compliment I could get behind.”

I leaned back, crossing my arms playfully. “Don’t let it go to your head, idiot.” I smacked his arm playfully. “Too late,” he replied with a cocky grin, puffing out his chest as if he was suddenly all-knowing. “But I appreciate your honesty. And just for the record, I think you're pretty hot too.” I felt my cheeks warm again, and I couldn’t help but smile back at him. “Oh, do you now?” I asked, arching an eyebrow playfully. “Is that your way of trying to win me over?”

“Maybe,” he said, leaning in slightly, his expression shifting to a more serious tone. “It’s the truth. You light up a room, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice.” His sincerity caught me off guard, and I glanced away, feeling a flutter of shyness mixed with pride. “I don't believe you,” I said skeptically, unable to completely shake off the doubt.

“Oh, you want me to prove it to you, huh?” Rafe asked cockily, an impish grin spreading across his face.

Before I could respond, he closed the distance between us, his lips brushing against mine. The kiss started off soft, tentative, as if he was gauging my reaction. My heart raced, caught off guard by the intensity of the moment, but I quickly melted into it, the warmth of his body drawing me in. As the kiss deepened, he tilted his head slightly, his fingers threading through my hair, holding me in place as if he never wanted to let go. The world around us faded, and it was just the two of us, surrounded by the sound of waves crashing softly against the shore. I could taste the salt in the air and the sweetness of his breath, and everything felt electric. When we finally pulled apart, both of us breathing heavily, I looked into his eyes, trying to decipher the emotions swirling within them.

“Okay, maybe that was a little convincing,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper, still tinged with surprise.

“Just a little?” Rafe smirked, clearly pleased with himself. “I was aiming for ‘totally convinced.’” I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips.

As we sat there, surrounded by the fading light of the day and the gentle sound of the ocean, I realized that this moment was only the beginning—a spark of something deeper and more exhilarating than I had ever expected. And as I looked at Rafe, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement for what was to come, ready to embrace every challenge, every kiss, and every moment we had together.

likes and reblogs are appreciated 🪷

[autisticsupervillain]

Someone needs to do a thing about Phoenix Wright becoming a Tumblr celebrity/meme in universe, getting treated in a similar way to how we treat Hbomberguy irl. You cannot tell me that Tumblr wouldn't see a lawyer solve a fifteen year old cold case by cross examining a parrot and not immediately declare him our king.

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Werewolf--Sex:

On trial rn and my defense attorney seems to be lowkey flirting with the prosecutor and it's really killing the mood ngl.

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Steelsamuraiass:

OP, your attorney is Phoenix Wright. He's been married to that Prosecutor for fifteen years. I even credits him for inspiring him to take up law in the first place.

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Werewolf--Sex:

Aw, that's actually really sweet.

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Engarde-Simp:

Didn't that guy once solve a fifteen year old cold case by cross examining a parrot?

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Werewolf--Sex:

What?

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Wrightworthkismesis:

Newbies discovering the pure insanity that is Phoenix Wright's career will never not be funny. Your trial is gonna be legendary.

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Engarde-Simp:

Did you really not do any research on your attorney before hiring him?

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Werewolf--Sex:

Doing research rn. This guy's career is insane. Listed in no particular order, my attorney, Phoenix Wright has apparently:

Needed to have evidence law explained to him mid-trial

Proven the existence of ghosts to win his trials(?????????)

Defended an orca in court.

Only lost three times in his entire career (absolutely fucking insane if you know how Japanifornia's legal system is. Tbh, defendants are screwed in our current system.)

Successfully proven that the prosecutor committed the crime his client was accused of by checking him with a metal detector.

Claims to have a magic necklace that can let him see lies??????

Was once nearly taken out by the mafia.

Once got impersonated by a dude with a cardboard badge.

Repeatedly been assaulted by witnesses and even prosecutors? Like, one of them straight up tazed him and he was once apparently whipped unconscious in court???

Survived getting hit by a speeding car and being sent flying, falling through a burning bridge, and all the times he got assaulted.

Also, that description of his relationship with the Prosecution really doesn't do any justice. Apparently, Phoenix only started practicing law so he could meet this man in court again.

Who gave this indestructible homosexual a law degree? He clearly has too much power.

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Sold-To-Gavinners:

Actually! Phoenix Wright is a fraud who got disbarred for forging evidence! I'd really appreciate it if we stopped ignoring all the bad things he did just because he's gay.

#anti-pw #freekristoph #antijurorsystem #anti-matt engarde

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Engarde-Simp:

Of all the Gavins, why'd you decide to simp for the one whose a creepy lawyer serial killer? The other one's the one with the band ya know.

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Sold-To-Gavinners:

Your name is literally Engarde-Simp.

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Wrightworthkismesis:

Wasn't Phoenix blackmailed into that trial and that's why he lost.

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Steelsamuraiass:

Yeah, apparently Matt hired an assassin to kidnap his girlfriend or something.

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Wrightworthkismesis:

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Steelsamuraiass:

Googled it. Apparently it was his co-council. They're just friends from what I can tell.

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Wrightworthkismesis:

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Warewolf--Sex:

Got declared not guilty btw. Apparently the real killer was the Judge.

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OfficialPWPost:

Official Phoenix Wright post.

[prentissluvr]

flower shop, 11:00 a.m. — dean winchester

cw : gn!reader, fluff, pet names (sweetheart), unedited, 644 words. requested ! for my 800 followers event [ open ] .

summary : dean doesn't really like flowers, but he thinks he likes you.

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

dean does not know how to shop for flowers, and it’s abundantly clear to you as you watch him wander through the small shop. his eyes just about glaze over as he takes in all of the options. he’s clearly overwhelmed by the pure amount of different colors and types of flowers.

from where you stand, cleaning up a small water spill for your coworker, who’s sweet self gets too nervous after accidents to help customers for a solid five or ten minutes. he’s adorable and very kind, and you understand his anxiety, but sometimes you’d rather talk to handsome customers than help him out.

but the spill is small, and cleaning it takes up little time. you don’t put the cleaning supplies in the right spot in favor of approaching this mystery man. you really hope that he’s not looking for flowers for a partner.

he looks like the sort of guy that doesn’t like asking for or receiving help, but he also looks so clueless that it would genuinely be bad customer service not to offer your help. he also looks too handsome to pass up talking to.

“hi,” you greet him with a small smile. he turns to look at you, a confident smile replacing his confused features when he sees you. the bright mid-morning sunlight streams in through the shop’s wide windows, hitting his face and illuminating his unfairly pretty features. his eyelashes are long and gorgeous and his eyes are even more stunning. the sunlight makes them a pale green and his expression tells you that he knows he’s handsome.

“are you looking for something specific?” you ask, somehow keeping a hold of your composure.

his expression changes again, turning the slightest bit sheepish. he rubs the back of his neck, and you have to force yourself to focus on his words rather than the strength of his upper arms and the expanse of his chest.

“actually, yeah, i’m, uh, looking for somethin’ for my mom,” he explains. that’s the best answer he could’ve given you. a hot man looking to buy flowers for his mom? that’s a big fat yes, please from you. “nothing too fancy, just somethin’ simple for her birthday. think you could help me out, sweetheart?

you like the way he cuts the word something short, his slight accent almost as charming as his flirty smile and casually uttered pet name of sweetheart.

“i think i can,” you grin, giving your own version of the charming smile and motioning for him to follow. “i’d recommend a simple arrangement of lilies or tulips,” you say, showing off a few different color options. you go on to explain a few different routes he could take without saying too much to overwhelm him with too much information.

eventually, he decides on tulips, with no filler flowers. he really meant it when he said simple, but you agree with him aloud that you like the simplest arrangements as well.

as he pays, he looks sort of unsure. you raise your eyebrows at him, as if to ask what’s wrong.

“you know, i’m not sure if she likes flowers,” he suddenly confesses. you laugh softly, in a bit of surprise. “i- i haven’t seen her in a while.” the way he says it sounds complicated and much heavier than just not having seen her in a bit, but you don’t question it.

“well, even if she doesn’t like them, i think she'll appreciate the gesture,” you assure him. “you can always pair them with a good bottle of whiskey or something, and she won’t be able to complain then, right?”

he grins, and it’s a real smile. “i like the way you think, sweetheart.” dean doesn’t like flowers too much, and this place intimidates him and makes him feel out of place. he likes you, though, so he’ll be back.

[avocado-writing]

Hi dear! I would like to appreciate your works. I really enjoy everything you wrote, Wish you have a great day! 💗

Since you're taking requests, could you please write Wade with a polite, sweet and delicate partners. He's with a person who's the definition of "Too pure for this world and MUST be PROTECTED at all cost" His partner showers him with love and validation, and always love to listen to him! Thanks! 💓

possibly based on real life events.

Wade Wilson is so in love, it must be sickening to everyone around him. 

In fact he knows it is and he does not care. He’ll say “look at this meme the love of my life sent me!” and the person who he shows will roll their eyes, as if you don’t have incredible taste in cat pictures. He’ll monologue constantly about how cute you are and how much he loves that scrunchy thing you do with your nose. He’s recited committed-to-memory facts about you so many times that his friends can parrot them too. 

“Yes, I know what their favourite film is, I know you took them to a special viewing of it for their birthday. It’s cute, Wade,” says Laura, patting him on the arm condescendingly. Well, it’s not his fault you’re so wonderful! There isn’t a single thing about you that’s not perfect. He’s constantly bowled over about just how much affection he can fit in his body for you. The other night he was going on about something stupid - he can’t even remember what now, maybe it was about the new Taco Bell menu? - and then realised you hadn’t interrupted him once to shut him up like most people would.

You’d looked over the top of your magazine at him when he’d pointed this out, brow cocked.

“Why would I want you to shut up? I like listening to you talk, Wade.”

Marry you. He’s going to marry you. Every day, then divorce you every day too so he can marry you again. 

You are probably too good for him. Most of his social circle thinks so. You’re patient and kind, when you’re not at your job - where you work at a charity adopting out senior animals, as if you could be any more of a fucking angel - you like to spend your time in his shitty little kitchen, baking desserts for him to get home to. He’ll find you getting Al to taste test for you and his apartment full of laughter and joy. 

Man, he’s definitely put on like, six pounds since the two of you started dating. He needs to be stronger in the face of your cupcakes. 

They are really fucking good though. 

He walks in that night with a plushie under his arm. It’s a cow. He remembers you mentioning offhand how cute you thought cows were, so he decided to grab the biggest one the toy store one the way home had just because he knows it’ll make you smile. You don’t need any more stuffed toys; you sleep with them all in the bed and they’re pushing him off the side at this point because of their sheer number but, well, he likes seeing you happy. 

And then he hears sobbing. 

“Sweetheart?” he asks, immediately panicked. Are you injured? Has someone come to hurt you - has he painted a target on your back because of his job? Bile fills his throat as he stumbles forward…

…and there you are, sitting in front of the TV, PlayStation controller in your lap as tears run down your face while the end of the game plays out. Wade has never felt such relief in his life, laughing as the ache of it is taken from his chest. You turn to him with wide, watery eyes. 

“Don’t you laugh at me, Wade Wilson!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But babe… are you crying at the end of Kingdom Hearts?”

“No!” you lie, trying to mop your face off with your sleeve. Then the music hits its crescendo from the crappy speakers and you start wailing all over again. 

He loves you. He’d kill a million billion people for you. It would take a hell of a long time but hey, one word and he’d do it. If anyone even lifted a finger to hurt you he’d execute them so thoroughly that every generation of their family would be wiped out of existence too. 

To put it in terms you’d approve of, he’d do anything for you. But he also knows you’d never ask him to. You’re just that wonderful. 

“… would it help if I got us take-out and you started playing the second one?”

“Uh-huh,” you manage to confirm. 

“I could be in this fucking game, beat Donald Duck’s little feathery ass. Disney, make it happen.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it. Pizza or Chinese?”

Taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk

[riririnnnn]

More random things in Blue Lock I find endearing:

-> Telepathy

There is something really sweet about knowing someone so well that you don't even need to verbally speak to them. The above panel is just so heartwarming—I really want what they have.

-> Mothers

I'm so happy that Mothers in this Manga actually look like Women who are Mothers to a High School-er and don't just look like High School-ers themselves.

You might say, "Oh, but it's only a few lines on their faces that make them look old!"

...

And that's point—it's easy af to make characters who actually look like Mothers and yet there are so many Mangas out there who fail to do this.

If you know, you know.

-> Hi-five!

Just look at them. Just look. Just. Look. At. Them.

Do I need to say something else?

It's the main reason why I don't want Neru to get out of NEL—I want more of these cuties to interact!!

-> Frenemies in U-20

The above interactions are so wholesome, you know. Like, it's very hard to explain, but the above scenes are just so heartwarming to me.

Rin was trying to cheer up Isagi in his own cold ways!

While considering how Isagi was so adamant on crushing Rin at the start, it's just so precious to see him being the first one to go congratulate Rin for his goal with a freaking HUG! And it just wasn't a normal hug, it was a DIVE-IN!

Boys please resolve your issues.

-> Two Duos

The way Reo looks at Nagi with concern and the way Yukimiya's arm is stretched out to give Isagi some kind of support—everything about this is pure wholesome.

Nagi-Reo was expected, but Yukimiya-Isagi was something unexpected.

Also the way Nagi is just: (O x O)

LOL.

-> Meanwhile this idiot (affectionate)

I hate this Bastard (I love him). He is such a menace. I'll smack him (I'll smooch his forehead). I'll whoop his ass if I get a chance (For real).

Did he just fly down from somewhere though?

Hey there, Chigiri.

-> Ubers PT - 2

You know, if you think over it, then Ubers have the most random ass characters together—

A tyrannical King

A 15 years old weeb

A glam can-be vogue model

A womaniser

A wannabe womaniser

And Lorenzo

and yet they are the team that feels the most family-like.

I adore them so much.

-> Unfaithful gentleman

When the Blue Lock-ers Vs U-20 was happening in the Bowling area, he was the first (and only) one who went to the registration counter—this behaviour just screams, "CAPTAIN!"

But on a second thought, I think his ahh just wanted an excuse to talk with the ladies behind the counter.

I just know he is such a smooth talker that you'll melt like a butter in a hot pan.

Someone get his ass!

-> Trust

It's one of those things that only a handful of people can understand and that is Kaiser trusting Ness to cut his hair.

Further, the way Kaiser opened up about himself feels bittersweet when you think about his backstory.

I hope those theories that revolved around Ness leaving Kaiser for Isagi never comes true.

.

.

.

Part: 1, 2, 4.

[vetitiscripta]

some sfw and nsfw headcanons for tpof ren please🦊🙏🏻 instantly fell in love with your writing and craving the foxy dilf

oh anon you’re so sweet, i’m glad you like my writing! AND YOU MAY ABSOLUTELY HAVE DILF REN HEADCANONS I AM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES FOR THAT MAN I AM BARKING LIKE A DOG

sfw

he lets you run your fingers over his scars, tracing them. if he’s feeling up to it, he’ll even tell you the story behind them

still a big anime fan so on his days off he likes to just relax with you and do anime marathons

since ren lives in different apartments, of course you go with him when he moves locations. he found an apartment by the bunker to stay in while you were recovering. traveling while you have multiple open wounds seems like a hassle so he figured it would just be easier to get a place nearby

YOU ARE SO SPOILED!! anything you want, its yours. you once mentioned how you miss all the games you had and you woke up the next morning to just about every new gaming console under the tv, already plugged in and games loaded on them. sometimes you have to be careful with what you offhandedly mention wanting because he will get it for you (he just likes seeing you happy, he lives for your smile)

once you are trusted with being outside (something that took quite a while for you to earn), he will absolutely take you out and about in town just to A) show you off and B) take you on shopping trips. he 100% has a black card. ANYTHING YOU WANT, YOU GET! that sweater is $1500? sure, get one in every color. you like the glass elephant that is made purely of crystal? it can be a decorative piece on the dining table

despite how spoiled you are, you are not free from being punished. you don’t get punished as much anymore, but at the beginning of your relationship, you defied him, hoping that you could get away (either running away or by death, you didn’t care at that point). ren has been through his fair share of punishments, he’s told you such; he knows how to leave a memorable punishment to help you understand. he’s also not above bringing out the shock collar in case the punishments aren’t enough

but after every punishment, he always cleans you up and cuddles with you, stroking your hair as you cry into his chest. depending on how far in the relationship it is, he can feel bad for punishing you but he knows that it’s to help you behave and understand

before you’re trusted to be left alone in the apartments, he’ll bring you with him to the bunker when he’s streaming. the first time you realized where you were, you almost threw up from the pure panic that spread through you. ren cupped your face and kissed you to help calm you down, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t find how absolutely terrified you were adorable. while he’s streaming you are left in the hands of rhino and kangaroo, who you have come to enjoy and consider friends (or at least as close to friends as you can get in your now abnormal life)

ren once considered getting you a pet to keep you company when you’re alone but he quickly discarded the idea due to how jealous he would be. you are his and your full attention should be on him. he might consider something super low maintenance like a goldfish (you would have to beg him for it though because he would still be jealous what a loser)

i personally think that ren would want a family. its not an intense urge he has, not something he thinks about 24/7, but he thinks about it every so often and how nice it would be (he’s also not getting any younger). ren is very fucked up (from both trauma and who he is as a person now) and it might not happen, but he still thinks about it, especially with you. its very cheesy of him to say, but he knows you’re the one. when he’s really going through it and feeling down, he wonders if what you have is real, if you truly love him or if it’s all for show to just survive (you always tell him that if it was just for show you wouldn’t be so willing to be around him and probably would have killed yourself early on babe your stockholm syndrome is showing)

nsfw (under the cut)

cliché but ren likes to bite during sex. he gets rather caught up in the moment and tasting you really gets him going

his heats can be pretty intense. his more clingy side comes out when he’s in heat and he will not leave you alone. from the moment you wake up until you fall asleep for the night (if you sleep during his heat), he has you in different positions and his dick is always inside you. even if you have to get up for something, he is following you, basically piggybacking you with how close he is

while you probably don’t appear in streams anymore, ren will occasionally film you two fucking. he teases you by telling you that you’re live and everyone is watching or that he’ll upload it for his fans later (a lie, you’re for his eyes only now but he does love how flush you get and how you beg him to turn the camera off)

this is already canon but ren loves seeing you in cute, frilly lingerie. there is nothing he loves more than to buy you an expensive lingerie set and have you show it off to him, only for him to rip it off of you within seconds. if he really likes the piece he’ll fuck you in the lingerie and will have you wear it again

phone sex while he’s away. every night he’ll call you just to listen to you get yourself off while he talks you through it. he’s fisting his cock during it as well, but he loves guiding you through it more. he has to make sure you don’t miss him too much. sometimes he’ll cut the call short and will wait for the spam of calls and texts from you as you beg him to call you again so you can cum. if you don’t get to call, he’ll demand you send pictures/videos. anything will do: shirtless pics, videos of you fingering yourself. he keeps everything you send him in a special folder on his phone that he turns to when he needs a quick dose of you

loves teasing you in public. fancy restaurant on the nice end of town? ren has his hand in your pants while the two of you talk over a split dessert (well, he’s talking. you’re trying to not moan out loud in the middle of the restaurant). is not afraid to drag you into an alley and push you to your knees, cock springing out as he tells you to open your mouth. he’s not worried about anyone seeing but if they do he’ll either throw a smirk their way if you’re hidden from their sight or, if you’re not hidden, he’ll remember what they look like and will seek them out later for a ‘friendly chat’ (you are for his eyes only)

BREEDING KINK!!! following my whole ‘ren wants a family’ thing, he def has a breeding kink. even if his intention isn’t to knock you up, he talks like it is. talks about cumming inside you and how good you would look all round and full of his pups. you moan at his words, too drunk on his cock to reply or think about what he’s saying. you’d ask him to cum inside you, begging him to fill you with his cum. he’s also definitely the type to push his cum back into you as it leaks out. (for my ladies: he’ll definitely put a pillow beneath your hips to help the chances if he’s feeling spicy)