#and i like it when they cry. i like it best when they both laugh and cry. eeaao intent

[writingoddess1125]

Annoying Shit They Do

COD Men X GN Reader

Price, Simon, Johnny, Kyle, König, Horangi + Bonus

NOT PROOF READ

This is all tongue and cheek. Enjoy!

Simon

Simon was a very.. Well thought out man.

He was always prepared-

Painfully prepared.. for every situation and some situations that weren't even possible.

You knew Simon loved knowing what he was going into at all times. However it can be a bit much at the best of times.

Ever had 2 different types of navigation tools including a compass while going to the post office?

You have-

Ever had hiking gear loaded into your car cause you where going to a local park to jog?

You sure as fuck have!

Thanks to Mr. Always Prepared Skull Man!

You swore this man was prepared for a Mutant zombie apocalypse with the amount of supplies and preparations he had constantly.

Sure while it wasn't something you thought about often and it was clearly in a loving way, He wanted to make sure you were always safe and you appreciated it deeply-

However when you go into your kitchen and see MRE's and emergency dried food to last 30 years next to your chips-

It can get a bit much..

It was always a bit power struggle with the broody man. You'd have a better time fist fighting a brick wall or bringing a rock to a orgasm then winning over the Lieutenant when it came to stuff like this.

Which lead you to staring at the hard black suitcase that was being loaded into the back of the SUV along with your guys few shared soft luggage bags.

You rub your temple, perfectly in between the two emotions of either crying or laughing at your partner.

"Simon-.. I love you. So so much. However I don't think, We need a literal military grade survival kit.. on a couples get away to a private resort"

He looked to you calmly-

"Never know.."

You look up to the sky, Begging whoever is up there that he leaves the kit in the car the whole vacation- and that he doesn't bring a tactical knife into the resort..

Price

John, the love of your life. The apple of your eye..

A good man and a Captain of a special Ops team...

Also..

The bastard that leaves one God damn bit left of whatever he touches and tells no one!

From toothpaste where there is only a bead sized amount left.

To even leaving four chips in the family size bag you'd gotten.

Leaves a single bite of ice cream in the pint and puts it back like it's still full.

Ever opened a box of what used to be Chinese takeout and seen literally 6 noodles, 12 grains of rice and a single piece of meat with a perfect green onion on top?

You sure as fuck had.

You knew it started out as something he genuinely did naturally. However once he figured out it annoyed you- It was on.. he now did it cause he knew it annoyed you.

The fucker-

Just how now you stared at the empty jug of what used to be white grape juice. Now with maybe a shot glass worth in the bottom.

You supress the demonic feeling of wanting to Hex your spouse.

Walking upstairs to his office area where you knew he was both smoking a cigar and drinking from his private stash while watching football (soccer).

Opening the door slowly you make direct eye contact with him. Price slowly raising an eyebrow at the serious look on your face.

"Yes Dear?"

You hold up the empty jug of juice and shake it a little showing the literal trinkle of juice left in it.

"Couldn't just kill it off could you?-"

John gives a smile at you as he takes a sip of his scotch.

"Well, Wanted to save ya some-"

John laughed loudly when you threw the empty juice jug at his head after that.

Kyle

Kyle likes to mess with stuff...

Always moving stuff around, always touching stuff, messing or bending things.

If it's in reach his hands seem to find it-

He's like those children you used to see that had to have their hands on the cart at all times or in their parents pockets cause they would always touch stuff.

Kyle was one of those people in adult form- You'd even heard his mother yell at him saying 'Idle hands are the devils workshop' when he visits and continues the practice.

While in most cases you didn't mind, it was a bit irritating when things got moved from where you'd left them or things just appearing out of thin air.

Your tube of chapstick? Suddenly in the Livingroom.

Phone charger? Now sitting on a random shelf.

You knew it wasn't on purpose but damn, Hell he didn't even seem to realize it himself.

He'd be sitting there, shaking his knee as he rolled something between his hands casually. The two of you talking about something random in the livingroom.

You can't help but narrow your eyes a bit as you see something silver in his palm which he was rolling like playdough.

"Sweetie, What are you messing with?"

He also looks confused for a second, not even realizing he had been messing with something. He looks over whatever had been in his hands.

"Uhh Looks like a oat bar-"

You scrunch up your face a bit.

"We don't even have any granola bars in the house? Where did you get that?"

He shrugs having no idea himself.

Johnny

He buys bulk in everything...

Once he realized that it was a thing he could just do-

He did it with everything..

Bulk Paper towels, Bulk Soy Sauce, 45lb tub of Nut Butter? He got all of it, Leading you to staring up at what was equivalent to a Military food storage in your downstairs pantry.

Leaving you currently staring up at the 25lb cloth bag of table salt on the top of the easy 10ft tall pantry shelf wondering if this was worth the possible 80% death rate trying to fill up the salt shaker.

As you stare up at it, the man of the hour pokes his head in. Seeing you staring at the bag of salt.

"Love?-"

"Johnny My Dear- We have essentially a bunker of Bulk everything. I don't think we need anything else.. I cant even get the salt without risking a skull fracture"

Johnny chuckles at this. Setting down a box to grab the hefty stool kept in the pantry and pulling down the bag, Setting it next to you on the floor.

"Well just saves us the hassle"

He chimed with a chuckle. However you silently disagreed.. Before looking to the large box hed set down.

"What is that?.."

Johnny gives a shy chuckle as you move over opening it quickly you see a massive mountain of 250 individual bags of Welch's Fruit Snacks.

"Johnny.. Why is there enough fruit snacks to kill a small child?"

Hong-Jin (Horangi)

So you're darling husband, He has a wonderful terrible habit of just disappearing..

Walking through a store?

Going to a Restaurant?

Hell going down the hallway of your house!?

The Poof-

He's just gone.

Which always leaves you stranded looking around like a crazy person.. Currently in a giant ass world grocery store he had been the one to drag you to- Aka you knew nothing!

"God Damnit-"

You mumble looking around the aisles trying to see if you could spot him. The place was like a maze, each aisle was a different part of the world it seemed and had at least 60 people crammed in each section.

It was hell! Why did he leave you here!? Now rushing around to just find a spot that wasn't being occupied or in anyone's way.

Aisles 43!? You thought you where at 12!? Where is the Exit!?

Standing there confused by what seemed to be some sort of brooms, you feel a small tap and see Hong-Jin standing there calmly.

"Found you. Got what I needed, We can go now"

He holds up a single small package of a seasoning mix he liked.

...

There was a small tick in the back of your brain that said to shove that packet up his ass.

König-

One word-

ONE GOD DAMN WORD

Lüften...

While sure, it's good to air out the room..

However not when there is 4ft of snow outside and the heater is off because of König wanting to 'Save Gas'.

Bullshit to save gas, He just likes the cold. Correction.. He Loves the cold.

More then most around you or anyone probably in this country. He will happily have the window open and let the house freeze like the arctic saying its refreshing new air.

Ever seen those weirdos that walk in a blizzard in shorts, sandals and a shirt?-

That's him.. damn near skips when a snow storm hits.

However he drags that brand of cold enthusiasm into the house. Leading you huddled under 4 blankets as you have to turn the heater onto Max.

"I swear- If you open that God damn window.."

You mumble to you're spouse as you look up from the blankets of your guys shared bed hiding from the cold that was already in the room as the heater works hard to make the room livable.

Seeing König standing by the large window ready to open it- His hands on the little handle as he stared wide eyed at you.

"But-"

"There is a snow storm going on. The house does not by any means- 'need to be aired out'"

"It feels nice Liebling and it's goo-"

"Felix- I will turn the heat on during peak summer and leave you here... to melt"

And Bonus!

Nikto

This man will eat anywhere at anytime..

You leave him alone for .24 milliseconds?

He's munching on something in record time.

Sure he seemed to burn it off but it was the amount he could eat, what he ate and then if it was close to dinner. He would eat again-

You where honestly starting to worry about his health.. He was concerned about the scars on his face but not the amount of sodium he just drank from the pickle jar.

It made it so when you left to grab one of his prescriptions from the pharmacy which you swore was 15 minutes tops you walk in and see Nikto there with a mountain of food on your coffee table watching TV.

A opened pickled onion jar which was now empty- juice gone too, Some sort of packaged meat that seemed was mostly gone and what seemed to be a rolled newspaper filled with the shells of sunflower seeds and seemingly walnut shells (You hadn't even bought either of them-) And now he was cutting up an apple with a knife and using it to eat the slices.

"H-How, Its been 15 minutes... We don't even have walnuts in the house?"

Nikto looked to you eating another slice of apple and shrugged.

"We got hungry-"

He said plainly before looking back at the TV you standing there both worried and frustrated.

"How we just had dinner? There are leftovers!"

"Not anymore. I ate it-"

[tonycries]

Gojo Satoru is a simp. A menace. A walking god complex wrapped in a designer coat and sunglasses, with infinity-level power and zero self-control when it comes to you.

Not the type to fall often—hell, he barely gives a shit about anything that isn’t sugar or saving the world—but you? One look and his entire brain rewired to say, “Hers. I’m hers.”

The man is down horrendously, and the kicker? He’s fine with it. Loves it, actually.

You walk into the room? His jaw’s on the floor.

You so much as glance his way? His pulse jumps like you just whispered “fuck me” in his ear.

He tries to play it cool, sunglasses down, grin all smug, leaning lazy-like against the wall—

But inside? Feral. Screaming. Brain cells? All on fire, all saying “Mine, mine, mine.”

He’s supposed to be untouchable—the strongest, the cockiest, the man with the answers and the power and the charm. But that first time you looked up and caught him staring like he’d never seen anything so goddamn beautiful—

Boom. Brain gone. Dick hard. Soul yours.

And when he realizes that you showed up with Naoya Zenin, he loses his goddamn mind.

It was a blind date, you’d said. Not serious. Just seeing where it goes.

Gojo hears that and thinks cool, I’ll kill him later.

Naoya’s fake smiling, showing off, trying way too hard, and Gojo sees right through him.

Knows he’s only there to flex. Knows he’s baiting him.

But Satoru’s not about to let some Zenin rat get the best of him. Oh no. He’s gonna make you laugh first.

So he shows up. Loud. Flashy. Sitting way too close.

Arm slung behind your chair, his voice low and smooth by your ear, breath hot against your skin.

“So… this the guy you’re risking your life with? You sure, pretty girl? Because I promise, you could do way better.”

You snort-laugh, can’t even cover it, and he sees stars.

You glance over your shoulder, smirking like sin.

“What, like you?”

He grins—filthy, bright, devastating.

“Exactly like me.”

Your eyes meet, heat between you electric, and for a second, it’s just you two, Naoya forgotten, tension crackling like a live wire between you.

You both know it’s not just flirting anymore.

And Gojo?

He’s fucking gone.

⸻

The Naoya thing dies quick. You didn’t like the vibe is what you tell Gojo and while that’s true…maybe the strongest played more of a role than you’d ever admit.

Even though it’s over, Gojo remembers.

Remembers you being with someone else.

Remembers him touching your lower back.

Remembers having to smile through it.

And when you offhandedly mention a hookup that came after?

“Didn’t count. Wasn’t good.”

Gojo stares at you like you shot him in the chest.

“Not good?”

You shrug, casual.

“Just one of those things. Whatever.”

Whatever.

WHATEVER.

He’s pacing now, running a hand through his hair, sunglasses off, eyes burning.

“Let me get this straight. Some loser got to have you—got to touch you—and didn’t absolutely worship the ground you walk on? Didn’t ruin you for anyone else? Didn’t even try?”

You blink. “I mean—”

He’s in your face, voice low and dangerous, frustrated but not with you—with his newest arch nemesis, the dumbass who got the opportunity of a lifetime and didn’t manage to make you cum ONCE. He hated this man with every fiber of his being.

“You should’ve been trembling. You should’ve been wrecked—blissed out, begging, ruined.”

You laugh—nervous, breathless.

He leans in more, grinning like he wants to ruin you now.

“I’d die to touch you like that. You think I’d let you walk away thinking it was just okay? Nah, baby. I’d make you feel it for days.”

His voice drops, hungry, heated—feral.

“One chance, pretty girl. One night. Let me show you what worship really feels like.”

You stare.

He smirks with that insufferable look in his eye and you end up stuffed to the brim, crying, breathless underneath him as he ruins you for anyone else and finally shows you he’s so much more than just talk. It’s hot, desperate, perfect.

When you’re tangled in his arms, voice hoarse from the screaming, lips swollen, covered in his marks (hand prints and hickeys), still delirious from all the orgasms, giggling from pure joy satisfaction - he thinks he’s going to die a happy man.

When you say, still breathless, “God, I adore you. We’re doing that again. A lot.”

He blinks. Stops breathing.

Adore? We? Again? A lot?

His brain explodes.

Heart gone. Ring finger itching.

He presses a kiss to your shoulder, smiling like a man who just found religion.

“Yeah, baby. A lot. Forever, if you want.”

Because Gojo doesn’t just want another night.

He wants all your mornings. Every damn one.

Oh HELLOOOOOO??? 😈 I need more of this right NEOW nonnie mmm this has me fed. Hehehe love Naoya being used as a lil' plot device...

[aajjks]

The Executioner (m)

synopsis. After all he was the only guy who would destroy everyone to protect you.

pairing. yandere jungkook x fem!reader.

warnings: vióléncé ánd gráphíc dépíctíóns óf hárm, psychólógícál ábúsé, mánípúlátíón., dárk thémes óf révéngé ánd páín., déscríptíóns óf ínténsívé cáréss, térrór, ánd pr��fánítý, mátúré lángúágé (prófánítý) ánd viólént áctíóns, YÁNDÈRÈ, RÈVÈNGÈ, 18+, búllyíng.

note. This is heavily heavily inspired by the glory, a.k.a. the Korean drama, which is a masterpiece so everyone should watch it I found this GIF on Pinterest so credit to the real owner and I just want to see on a serious note that if you’re ever being bullied, you have to stand up for yourself and no one deserves that kind of torture. So be kind. And if this flops? that is completely OK I just wrote this because I suddenly felt inspired. ENJOY BUT READ OUT YOUR OWN RISK.

•••

You stand in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection. It doesn’t look like you anymore.

The girl who used to cry alone at night?

Gone.

The girl who allowed people to walk all over her? Gone. Now, you are something else. Something stronger. Something darker.

They break you. They shatter you, piece by piece.

The mocking laughter, the cruel jokes, the whispered insults— they still echo in your head.

Every memory of their cruelty makes your blood boil.

You promise yourself that one day, you’ll make them pay. But you don’t just want revenge.

No, you want them to suffer. You want to watch them burn.

And Jungkook? He’s been there the entire time. Watching. Waiting. You thought he was just another guy—

Sweet, charming, maybe even caring, but you were wrong.

Jungkook’s darkness runs deeper than you could’ve ever imagined.

It all starts the night you break down.

You can’t take it anymore. You’re ready to end it, to just walk away from the world.

But Jungkook’s there, waiting. He pulls you into his arms, whispers soft promises into your ear.

“I’ll make them pay,” he says, his voice like a knife slicing through the tension. “We’ll make them suffer together.”

And you believe him. You should’ve been scared, but all you feel is relief.

Maybe it’s because you see the darkness in his eyes, the same darkness you’ve buried deep inside yourself. Maybe it’s because he understands.

Together, you’ll take them all down.

The first target is always going to be Minji. She’s the one who started it all.

That fucking bitch will pay.

the one who laughed the loudest when you were at your lowest.

She’s the one who makes you feel like dirt. Jungkook knows exactly how to make her suffer without touching her.

His mind is brilliant, twisted in the best way possible.

“We start with rumors,” he whispers late one night as you both sit together, planning. “Small lies. Just enough to get her paranoid.”

You don’t question it. You just watch as he works.

The first lie isn’t even about her—

it’s about her family. Jungkook makes sure to tell a trusted friend that Minji’s father’s involved in shady business deals.

The seed’s planted, and it spreads quickly. But it doesn’t stop there. Jungkook finds out every little detail about her. The places she goes.

The things she says. The people she talks to. It’s easy to turn them into whispers, into whispers that will ruin her life.

It only takes a few days for Minji to start looking over her shoulder, her confidence slowly eroding as the whispers grow louder.

You see the change in her eyes when she walks past you in the hallway.

The panic. The fear.

She doesn’t know who to trust anymore. Her friends start distancing themselves, not because they think she’s guilty, but because the rumors make them second-guess everything.

You feel the cracks forming. You feel her starting to unravel. And it feels good.

Jungkook’s eyes are dark with satisfaction as he watches her fall apart. “Isn’t it beautiful?” he whispers, his voice dripping with malice.

You don’t even have to respond. You just watch, enjoying every moment of her pain.

“Do you think she’s figured it out?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Not yet,” Jungkook answers, a grin spreading across his face. “But soon. She’ll beg for mercy when it all crashes down on her.”

The next target? Taehyun. That piece of shit who humiliated you in front of the whole school.

The one who laughed while everyone else joined in. Jungkook doesn’t have to say much. You know what needs to be done.

“You want to destroy him?” Jungkook asks, his voice quiet but laced with something dangerous.

“I’ll make him lose everything. We’ll start with his reputation, and then we’ll break him. Piece by piece.”

You can’t help but smile, a dark thrill running through your veins. Taehyun won’t see this coming.

Jungkook’s method is brilliant.

He tells one of Taehyun’s closest friends that Taehyun’s been cheating on his girlfriend.

A small, subtle lie, but enough to set things in motion.

Then, he plants more seeds. He makes sure Taehyun sees a text message from his supposed lover—something that’s carefully worded to stir up doubt.

It isn’t just the girl, though. Jungkook spreads rumors about Taehyun’s family, his past, things that could make anyone question their loyalty.

The next day,

Taehyun’s world comes crashing down. His girlfriend confronts him, furious, demanding answers.

His friends turn on him, unsure if they can trust him. The more Taehyun tries to fight back, the more the whispers grow. It isn’t just about the girl anymore. It’s about his character, his integrity.

Everything he’s worked so hard to build is falling apart, and he can’t stop it.

Taehyun finds you in the hallway, his face red with anger. “You think you can destroy me?” he spits, his eyes wild.

“You and your little boyfriend. You’ll regret this.”

You chuckle darkly, stepping closer. “You’re too late for regrets.”

Jungkook’s hand rests on your shoulder, his presence calming in a way, but also dangerous.

Taehyun looks at him, his eyes widening as he sees the madness in Jungkook’s gaze. Jungkook’s lips curl into a smile, but there’s nothing kind in it.

“You should’ve stayed quiet,” Jungkook whispers, his voice low and full of venom. “Now you’ve made it personal.”

Taehyun backs off, his confidence shattered, but it doesn’t matter anymore. He’s done.

The third target is Jiwoo. The girl who always thinks she’s better than you.

The girl who humiliated you just for the fun of it. She’s the last one you need to break.

Jungkook’s plan is simple: break her mentally. Make her think she’s being hunted.

He starts small—text messages that make her think someone’s stalking her.

I know what you did. I’m watching you.

At first, it’s nothing more than a few strange messages. But soon, Jiwoo’s paranoia starts to take over.

She can’t leave her house without looking over her shoulder. She can’t sleep without checking her windows.

Jungkook makes sure her fear is constant. Her world is falling apart, and there’s nothing she can do to stop it.

You watch her crack, and it’s delicious.

She tries to confront you one day in the hallway, shaking with fear. “You think you’re so clever, huh?”

Jiwoo spits, but her voice cracks halfway through. “You think you can just destroy me like you did with the others?”

You laugh softly, stepping forward with a smile. “Oh, honey. You’re already destroyed. You just don’t know it yet.”

Her eyes narrow. “You can’t do this! I’ll make you pay for this!”

You pause for a moment, then laugh again. “I’m sorry, Jiwoo, but this is just the beginning. You really think I’m afraid of you? You should’ve kept your mouth shut when you had the chance.”

Jungkook steps behind you, his eyes burning with a fire that makes Jiwoo back up instinctively.

He doesn’t even look at her, just stares ahead, his presence enough to crush her will.

“Your life’s already over. It’s just… no one’s told you yet.”

Jiwoo’s face turns pale as she stumbles back. Her fight is gone. She has nothing left.

And then comes the final step. The last target is everyone. Every single person who ever made you feel small. Every person who thought they could walk all over you and get away with it.

Jungkook’s plan is grand. He orchestrates everything, using all the pain and darkness to his advantage.

He spreads lies. He creates chaos. He makes sure that every person who has ever wronged you knows what it feels like to lose everything.

Their reputations are torn apart. Their relationships destroyed. Their lives shattered.

And you? You stand by his side. You’re no longer the victim. You’re the one who makes it all happen.

But even as the revenge consumes you, you can’t ignore the way Jungkook looks at you.

His eyes are always on you, his gaze dark and intense.

You can feel his obsession growing, feeding off the chaos you both create. It’s intoxicating. You need it. You need him.

One night, after the last of your enemies is taken down, you find yourself alone with Jungkook.

His eyes are fixed on you, his body close. The air is thick with tension.

“We’ve done it,” he whispers, his voice filled with satisfaction. “They’re all gone. It’s just us now.”

You feel the heat between you rise. His hand slides to your waist, pulling you toward him.

His lips hover over yours, and you can feel the weight of the moment, the culmination of everything you’ve done together.

“Just us,” you murmur.

He kisses you then, fierce and consuming.

His hands tangle in your hair as his lips bruise yours, claiming you in a way that feels both like salvation and destruction. It’s everything—the revenge, the passion, the hunger.

You lose yourself in it, in him.

When you pull away, you’re both breathless. But this is just the beginning.

“Together,” Jungkook whispers, his voice raw.

“Forever.”

•••

It had all started when you least expected it.

You were a victim of the world around you—silent, unnoticed, walking the halls of your school with your head down, trying to avoid attention.

The insults, the whispered names, the cold stares from people who didn’t even know you—

they were all part of your daily routine. You had learned to live with it. It was easier than trying to fight it.

But on that day, something shifted. It started with Jungkook.

You didn’t know him. Not really. He was just another guy who’d somehow managed to rise above everyone else.

The guy who seemed to have it all— charisma, popularity, a smile that could charm the world.

He was everything you weren’t. And, to be honest, you hated him for it at first.

Why should someone like him care about someone like you?

The first time he spoke to you, you thought it was just another joke.

It was the kind of thing people did when they wanted to make someone feel awkward, to point out how out of place you were.

But Jungkook didn’t look at you with pity like everyone else did. He looked at you with… understanding.

His eyes were sharp, not soft like those who tried to make you feel better.

No, his gaze was intense, focused. It made your stomach twist.

He had caught you off guard that day in the hallway. His hand had settled on your shoulder so suddenly, you flinched.

Your first instinct was to shrug it off, push him away, tell him to go back to his crowd of popular, perfect friends.

But he didn’t let you. Instead, he stepped closer, his presence like a wall you couldn’t escape.

“Hey,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “You alright?”

You weren’t. You were never alright. But you weren’t about to let him see that. You barely knew him. Hell, you didn’t even want to.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, your voice thin.

His eyes narrowed, not in anger, but in curiosity. “Are you?”

You hesitated, swallowing the lump in your throat. The truth was, you wanted someone to ask. But you also hated the idea of being vulnerable.

It was a weakness.

And weakness, in your world, was something to be exploited.

“I’m fine,” you repeated, with a little more conviction this time, though it didn’t stop the shaking in your hands.

Jungkook didn’t buy it. Of course,

he didn’t.

“You’re lying,” he said simply, his tone not judgmental, but certain.

It wasn’t the accusation that bothered you— it was the fact that he could see right through you, like your facade wasn’t even worth the effort.

His words hit too close to home, but you refused to let him know that.

You opened your mouth to argue, to tell him to leave you alone, but for some reason, the words caught in your throat.

You couldn’t explain it, but something about him stopped you.

Something in the way he looked at you made you want to tell him everything, to unravel the tightly wound mess inside of you.

But that was insane, wasn’t it?

Why would you trust him? Why would you trust anyone?

“I’m fine,” you said again, almost pleading with yourself to believe it.

He watched you for a beat too long, and then, surprisingly—he smiled. It wasn’t some fake, pitying grin like the others. No, it was a smile that almost seemed… understanding.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” he said quietly. “I know what it feels like.”

You blinked, thrown off guard. “What?”

Jungkook shrugged, his eyes darkening slightly. “I know what it’s like. To be invisible. To be the one everyone picks on. To be ignored… hurt… because you’re not what people want you to be.”

The words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you just stared at him, trying to piece together what he was saying.

Was he messing with you? Was this some twisted joke? You didn’t know.

“I don’t believe you,” you finally said, taking a step back, wanting to put some space between you.

But Jungkook didn’t move. He stood there, looking at you with the same steady gaze.

“It’s true,” he said simply, almost like a promise. “I’ve been where you are. I still am. I’m not like the rest of them.”

That… made you pause. You didn’t know what to think. Was he just some rich kid playing at empathy?

Or was there something real in his words?

“I can’t help you,” you said, not because you didn’t want it, but because you were terrified of what it would mean. “You don’t know me.”

“You don’t have to trust me,” Jungkook replied, his voice low but firm. “But I can help you. And I want to. If you’ll let me.”

The doubt you felt was overwhelming. You had been burned too many times, left alone when you thought people cared.

No one had ever really seen you.

No one had ever truly understood what it was like to feel completely alone, to feel like you were nothing more than a shadow in a room full of people.

And yet… Jungkook’s offer felt different. He wasn’t offering to fix you. He wasn’t offering some false comfort. It was something darker, something raw that you couldn’t push away.

He understood the pain.

Maybe that’s why you didn’t push him away, why you didn’t shut him down completely.

But you couldn’t trust him. Not yet.

“So, what do you want from me?” you asked, your voice rough, a sharp edge to it.

Jungkook tilted his head, his eyes still intense. “Nothing, not yet. But I’ve been watching. I’ve seen how they treat you. How they treat people like you. And I won’t stand for it.”

You couldn’t tell if he was serious or if it was just some weird power play.

But there was something in the way he said it, something in his eyes that made you pause.

“You want to take them down?” you asked, more to yourself than to him.

He nodded slowly, a glint of something dangerous in his expression. “Yeah. But it’s not just about them. It’s about making them regret ever thinking they could do this to you.”

You looked away, unsure whether to be terrified or relieved. Maybe it was a little bit of both. “Why?”

“Because I don’t like seeing people get crushed under the weight of others. And I think you’ve been crushed long enough.”

The sincerity in his voice surprised you.

Maybe it was the fact that he had seen something in you that no one else had.

Maybe it was the darkness in his eyes that mirrored your own pain. You didn’t know.

But you couldn’t deny it anymore.

“Fine,” you said, your voice steady but unsure. “I’ll let you help me. But don’t think you’re saving me. I can handle this on my own.”

Jungkook’s smile softened, and for the first time, it felt like he wasn’t playing some game.

“I never said I was saving you. I’m just helping you get what you deserve.”

And that’s when you knew. It wasn’t about saving you—it was about destroying them.

Together.

[grim-reapers-wife]

(Bakugou x gender neutral reader)

Inspired by this quote:

Summary: You and Bakugou have been together since both of you can remember. It all started the day he asked demanded that y'all use the buddy system when y'all were six.

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🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤

Your POV.

"Suki, what did you get in your lunch?" I peak over his shoulder at the lunch table, trying to see in his Almight lunchbox.

"My dad made spicy curry." He said chewing his food. "S'really good." He looks over at mine and swallows his food. "Got anything you wanna trade?"

I smile and nod, grabbing my brown paper sack. "Yeah! I got an apple I'll spit with you, a green one!"

You and Katsuki were inseparable. Field trips, parks, play dates. You name it, you and Katsuki were together.

"Is Katsuki going on the trip?" Your mother asked while fixing your uniform for school. "Mhm! Me and him both wanna see a velociraptor fossil, it's our favorite!"

She smiled and listened all about the big field trip today. "Alright sweetie, have a good day." I wave to her while walking into the school house.

I take my seat next to Katsuki. "Hey Suki." I started calling him Suki as a shorter version of his name one day and it just stuck.

"Hey loser. You excited for the trip? It's gonna be amazing!" He smiles a big toothy grin. "Yeah! I'm super excited. We're gonna see so many fossils!"

The teacher stands up and gets the attention of the class. “Alright everybody. I know we’re all very excited for our class trip to the fossil exhibit but we need to go over the rules.”

She quickly writes something on the board. “Number one. We’ll be touring a public space, so let’s remember to use our inside voices.”

She writes something else on the board. “Number two. We won’t want to touch anything unless given specific instructions to do so. We don’t want to damage anything.

She writes the last thing in the board. “And number three. Pick a partner to use the buddy system with, if one of you is lost or hurt you have a buddy to get help. Go ahead and line up in two's with your partner.”

Katsuki grabs my cubby little hand in his and walks with me to the front of the class. “Hold my hand loser. We’re using the buddy system for the rest of our lives. You’re gonna be my partner forever.”

I don’t say anything, I just smile and hold his hand. We’ll be best friends forever.

20 Years later.

“You are the most amazing person in my life and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” I finish up my vows.

He wipes the tears from my face and starts his vows.

"Baby, you have been in my life for two decades. I know we're young but you've always been there. I don't remember a time without you. You corrected me when I was a bully, pushed me to be my best in UA, let me confide in you when I was struggling. You've been a constant in my life since forever, and I'll never live long enough to love you properly. I want to thank you for everything you’ve done and that you do, I'll never love another how I love you. The day I knew I wanted you to be mine was when I was six and I chose to have you as my buddy for a field trip. Ever since then you've been the love of my life. Hold my fucking hand loser. We're using the buddy system for the rest of our lives."

He wipes his tears and smiles at me, squeezing my hand. I barely hear the officiant when I'm wrapped in the smell of Katsuki. He wraps his arms around me and dips me back, kissing me hard.

We pull away and I hear our friends and family cheering. I look at him and kiss him again by surprise.

It takes him a second but he kisses me again furiously. I pull away laughing and crying. We walk back down the aisle half way before he picks me up into his arms carrying me the rest of the way.

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🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡

Note: If you made it this far I hope you liked it! If not lmk what i can do better. Kind feedback is always appreciated! 🙂‍↕️ If you wanna see more Katsuki my requests are open just send something in! No matter how simple the request.

[aainiouu]

A tethered mind free from the lies

Hen Wilson loves Evan Buckley, it’s just a fact. He is like a little brother to her and she just… loves him. Fiercely. She wants to know things that go on in his life, he wants to hear stuff and likes when Buck asks for her advice. Sure she teases him and gives him grief, but the bottom line is that there is a little Hen wouldn’t do for Buck.

But this? This is something she would have never imagined she would have to and never wanted to do.

“Tommy! You have to stay awake!” Hen yells and Tommy’s glassy eyes turn to her. The helicopter is a flaming husk of debris a safe distance away and Hen is aching all over and the blood is seeping somewhere on her scalp but somehow Tommy had made sure their crash landing didn’t hurt her too badly.

And then had the absolute audacity to demand Hen to leave him there. No way. She wasn’t planning to do that.

The concerning thing is that even if Hen did get Tommy out the situation is not good. In fact it’s possibly catastrophic, but it’s dark and even though Hen patched Tommy up to the best of her ability, it might not be enough.

But if it’s not enough she has to be the one to tell Buck so Hen isn’t giving up anytime soon. Not that she would anyway. Everybody always forgets that Tommy was her and Chim’s friend first.

“This isn’t looking too good, Hen,” Tommy coughs out, “My dad always said I would get myself killed, it seems like he got his wish”

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy, you’re not dying here.” Hen grits out and puts on more fabric around the stick (a branch really) poking out Tommy’s abdomen. Hen doesn’t know how Tommy manages it but the look and the scoff he gives her tell exactly how little he believes that.

“Hen, you have to tell Evan..” Tommy starts but Hen shuts him up with a look.

“I’m not telling the lover boy anything because you are going to tell him yourself.” Hen can feel the panic clawing up her throat but she needs to say on top of it. Tommy needs to survive this.

“No, please, Hen, I need to..” Tommy swallows and for Hen’s horror his eyes fill up tears. “I need him to know. I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone as much as I love Evan.”

Hen takes Tommy’s hand which is shaking, clammy and covered with blood. Tommy’s breath is shaking too and Hen feels herself tear up as well.

“Tell me about your Evan, Tommy,” she says and gently swipes Tommy’s hair from his forehead. Tommy smiles and looks at the sky. The fire paints his features strong, sharp but the look on his face makes him look boyish somehow. Tommy is a very handsome man, even crying and covered with blood.

“Evan, is, god, he showed me what could be. I never… I never thought I would get that, I still don’t not really, not the way we keep… we keep messing it up. But he showed me what could be.”

Hen smiles and keeps the pressure on Tommy’s wound, it’s still bleeding sluggishly, but the pulse she can feel on Tommy’s wrist is still going pleasantly strong.

”He’s the one I didn’t see coming, god, someone so light, so good, so gorgeous, so adorable, I didn’t know they made them like that.”

Hen can help but snort and Tommy somehow manages to pinch her hand slightly.

“He has so much life in him, so much love. He is simultaneously so giving with it, it scares me but also so careful on how it is received, it kills me.” Tommy turns his gaze back to her and the sheer adoration on Tommy’s face makes it hard to look away. “I don’t deserve it, I never have but god how I wish… I wish I could. I’ve never met anyone like him, I doubt there is anyone like him to meet. Not to me.”

“You do deserve it, Tommy.” Hen says quietly and the disbelieving laugh Tommy let’s out makes her heart hurt, “You do. Hell, don’t believe me, but believe Buck. The boy is crazy about you. If I let you die here, he’s never going to forgive me.”

“He will, Hen, he would never hold a grudge.”

“He won’t because I’m not letting you die.”

Tommy’s hmms and coughs wetly.

“I’m cold, Hen, and it’s not really hurting anymore and we both know it’s not a good sign.” Tommy grunts. “God, I would give everything to feel Evan’s arms around me right now, he’s like a furnace, a big, gorgeous, clingy furnace. I never felt cold sleeping with him.”

Hen takes off her jacket and lays it on the top of Tommy.

“I just want to see him again, I want to tell him…I—”

Tommy’s eyes slip closed and at the same moment a ray of light reaches them and someone runs towards them. Someone big, not careful, someone shouting their names on the top of their lungs, voice hoarse, panicked and wet.

It’s Buck.

Tommy’s pulse gets weaker and then it’s gone.

[dreameyess11]

love, love, love

Carlos Sainz x Reader

The soft hum of your favorite song played in the background as you and Carlos sat cross-legged on the living room floor, surrounded by a sea of wedding magazines, swatches of fabric, and color samples. It was late evening, and the golden glow of candles you both lit gave the room a warm, almost magical, ambiance.

“Are you sure about this color?” Carlos asked, holding up a swatch of burgundy velvet between his fingers, his brow furrowed in concentration. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him taking the smallest details so seriously, his usual calm demeanor tinged with just a hint of nervous energy.

“It’s perfect,” you reassured him, scooting closer to examine the fabric. “It’ll look stunning with the ivory table settings.”

Carlos leaned back, running a hand through his chestnut hair. “I just want everything to be perfect for you.” His words were soft, sincere, and they made your heart swell.

“You mean us,” you corrected with a teasing smile, brushing his hand lightly. He caught your fingers mid-motion, lacing them with his.

“Right, us,” he said, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Although I think you’re doing most of the hard work here. I just follow orders.”

You laughed, nudging him gently. “Hardly! You’ve vetoed, what, three cake flavors already?”

“Okay, the pistachio one was just wrong,” he replied, laughing as well. His laughter echoed in the room, and you realized, not for the first time, how his joy had the power to lift the heaviest of days.

As the evening wore on, you both found yourselves lying on the plush rug, your head resting on his shoulder. He was scrolling through photos on his phone, showing you venue options while sneaking in snapshots of your happiest moments together—road trips, cozy mornings, stolen moments from race weekends.

“Do you remember this?” he asked, showing you a picture of the two of you on a small boat in the middle of Lake Como. The sun had set behind you, casting a fiery glow over the water.

“Of course,” you replied, tracing the screen with your finger. “You were steering us straight into another boat.”

Carlos chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Best near-crash of my life.”

You closed your eyes, letting his voice and the memory wash over you. “We’ve had so many beautiful moments together, haven’t we?”

“And we’re about to have the most beautiful one yet,” he whispered, his voice full of conviction. “When I see you walking down that aisle… that’s going to be a moment I’ll never forget.”

Your throat tightened, and you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. His brown eyes held a softness, a depth that made you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

“You’re going to cry, aren’t you?” you teased, your voice breaking the emotion with a lightness that had become second nature between you two.

“I’m not making any promises,” he replied, grinning. “But if I do, you can’t hold it against me. Deal?”

“Deal,” you murmured, leaning up to kiss him softly, your fingers brushing against his jawline. In that moment, surrounded by the chaos of wedding planning and the comfort of his arms, you realized you didn’t need perfection. You just needed him.

And that was the most beautiful detail of all.

[i02dollia]

ONLY BECAUSE I LIKE YOU — seunghan hong ˎˊ˗

you are so holy and angelic, a creature of light. for me, a being sinful and sick, you gift me back life.

ᝰ.ᐟ pairing. dom jock!seunghan x bottom male!reader

warnings. seunghan is a dick at first. enjoys bullying reader and making him feel upset or insecure. name calling, crying, arguing, and physical violence but it’s quite short and nothing serious. smut. seunghan is such a dom and is obsessed with being in control. lowkey creepy and perverted. seunghan loves cock!!

psst. isn’t the basketball divider soo cute 😩

the bell rang causing your heart to pound. the booming was furious and incessant—oh your poor heart. feeling like you were on fire and spontaneously combustion could occur at any moment now, slowly standing from your desk and gathering all of your belongings you decided to make a run for it which may have been the stupidest decision of your life. the feeling of a warm large hand grabbed at the back of your uniform and a small whine left your lips—a deep chuckle coming from behind you which was all too familiar. why did he have to be so attractive? fuck. why did you sorta.. like this?

“running from me already little one? I have practice today and you’re in charge of the balls, remember?”

“o-oh.. am I? must’ve f-forgot..” it was your turn to chuckle but it was nowhere near how seunghan would chuckle—yours was a pathetic giggle showing exactly how nervous you were around him even if the both of you had been childhood friends. still remembering his words not to tell anyone about growing up together.

there you weee clutching the books in your arms and keeping a good distance between him, his friends, and you. following them from the very back and hoping this would be over soon. every week seunghan would force you to be in charge of the basketballs—fetching them and throwing them back to him so he could make the perfect shot right in the basket. gym.. or sports weren’t your thing and it never will be. you were more of a, let’s take a ride and blast music or let’s go get some ice cream and walk around town kind of guy. seunghan use to be the same when you two were growing up next door to each other. as the years went on he changed and it wasn’t for the best. it was for the worst.

“hey dumbass!”

the sound of seunghan’s deep voice pulled you from the thoughts of the past—quickly setting your books down on the bleachers and running over to him like a puppy. a little obedient puppy that looked desperate.

“I’ve only been calling your name for minutes now. the hell is wrong with you? start getting my balls ready!”

seunghan’s group would laugh at you like usual and say the most fucked up things as if they were god’s gift to this planet. quickly—not wanting him to wait any longer you pushed the cart across the gym and handed him a ball. the ball had an odd black mark across it and he called it his lucky ball. why? the mark came from you. which you didn’t understand why it would be lucky since he hated you so much. his lips curled up into a smirk once you handed him the ball and he made the perfect shot like he always did. he was so perfect.

this continued for hours. seunghan never cared if you wanted to study, go buy a few snacks and be alone, or talk with some classmates about the upcoming exams. he only cared about bullying you and using you as his puppet because he knew you’d do anything he said. at this point the running back and forth had tired you out and your back subconsciously leaned against the gym wall—wanting.. no needing to slide down it and rest.

“get up loser. we aren’t done yet and you know that. why are you being so damn different today? any other day you’re running to make sure I’m satisfied. pissed off at me or something? maybe.. you want something else from me? maybe—like a kiss?”

his words caught you off guard and your body pushed itself off the wall—gently pushing him back by his broad shoulders. “what the fuck? why would you say something like that! weirdo.. you like boys?” what were you even saying? you weren’t too sure about him but you? you loved men. embarrassment filled your veins and a dark pink color came over your cheeks. seunghan quickly caught on and looked around making sure no one was paying attention before he leaned closer to you, forcing you to take a few steps back hitting the wall behind you. head tilting up to look at him. he was so much taller than you.. god you loved it so much.

“don’t fuck around with me yn. I know you’re just a little fruitcake needing to be taken care of but that won’t be from me. don’t even think about any of my friends either. they don’t like dudes nor would they want you.”

a warm tear ran down your flushed cheek. not.. understanding why he was such a dick to you. you pushed at his chest against but he didn’t budge—purposely showing how much stronger he was than you and it was such a turn on. pushing past him with everything you had he allowed you too and you found yourself running out of the gym. seunghan bullied you every single day but words were never said like today.

a few hours later seunghan found himself sitting on the gym floor—covered in sweat. his mind racing with the image of you and just how cute you were today. since a child he knew he liked you. was it love? he wasn’t sure but he needed and wanted you. the way you smiled, got shy and embarrassed so easily, the way you walked was so adorable to him and.. how you treated everyone around you. what a perfect person. he was ruining the perfect relationship he could’ve been having with you because of.. the school and him being one of the most popular students. what would happen if everyone found out about his crush on you? or.. why should he care about what others thought when he’s liked you since you both were children.

the next day was the same. seunghan would continue to pick on you, call you names, call you out in class for not paying attention or worse—staring at him. it was an accident.. really. it was. you had zoned out in his direction and when he threw a pencil at you to get you back to reality it was the worse reality you’ve ever faced. the girls around him would snicker and call you a weirdo for staring so hard at him—but to seunghan he loved it. loved the way your eyes found his and how you only looked at him in such ways. no other guy in the school had your attention like he did. he’d wink at you and you’d turn from such embarrassment.

“are you coming to the party tonight? it’s at seunghan’s I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable but please come?”

the only girl that was kind to you was begging you to go to his party. fuck. with a shrug to your shoulders—you flipped the page in the book and continued to read what was needed for the next exam. the girl groaned and pushed at your shoulder in a playful manner, “oh come on! you’ll be with me! don’t let that jerk bother you so much.” and she was right. all you had to do was ignore him and not let him get under your skin but it was hard when he purposely placed himself near you at all times. if he didn’t have the people around him so manipulated and obsessed with him, they’d think he’s weird for the constant pushing and pulling at you.

“fine!” is all you said to her before getting up from your bed and disappearing into the bathroom. why not.. get ready and look nice for once. everyone saw you as a nerd so maybe this was your time to prove them wrong!

“god you look good..makes me think you fake being a stupid looking nerd. you’re so.. fuckable now.” a groan left your lips at how weird she sounded—not knowing exactly what she meant but maybe that would bring seunghan to you. why did you care? he obviously didn’t like you. another groan left your lips and this time she turned to look around, eyebrows furrowed. “I-I was just annoyed with something..” disappearing into your closet to find something to wear. ripped skinny jeans? maybe not.. that’s so 2016. maybe shorts! god.. you look so stupid. there wasn’t much time so the pair of ripped jeans and a hoodie was your only choice.

“don’t be so nervous! nothing bad will happen. it’s a party and I’m sure everyone will be drunk anyway.”

drunk? everyone was a senior but that wasn’t the appropriate age to drink yet. it wasn’t even legal. at this point you’re sounding like a parent—your parents. ugh. the girl hooked an arm around your own pulling you inside the large home with her. the smell of alcohol, sweat, and smoke filled your nose causing you to cough. “why does it smell so bad in here—” before you could finish your sentence she giggled and looked your way, “why does you sound so innocent.. sheesh.”

“what the fuck are you doing here?”

that deep voice.. you knew all too well. slowly turning to look at seunghan who had a smirk across his cute lips. those lips. you’d do anything to kiss them. “he’s my friend! I wanted him to be here with me now stop being such a dickhead han!” han? since when was she so close to him.. to use a nickname? this weird feeling of anger filled you and it was something you didn’t like or want. who cares if she called him a nickname—your crush on him would never be anything more.

eventually she left your side and you were left to fend for yourself, grabbing a sprite from the cooler and making your way through the large home—pushing past sweaty bodies, people making out, and others passed out on the floor. what a damn mess this was. seunghan.. had his eye on you the entire time. pushing away each girl that came to grind against him or place their filthy hands over his chest. he watched carefully as you moved your head to the music and drank the sprite you got from the cooler. how fucking cute he thought to himself and how cute the outfit was on you. it’s something he’s never seen before and he wanted to see it more often. why not confess? should he? fuck he was in a tough situation of not knowing what to do.

stepping outside to get some fresh air—a sigh left your lips and you closed your eyes enjoying how much quieter it was out with nature. leaning against the railing of the large porch, your lips curled up into a smile once you seen a pretty butterfly stopping at a few flowers that were finally blooming getting ready for the spring. just as you were about to leave the porch a hand slipped around your waist forcing you to turn and face them—seunghan. your eyes widened and.. you couldn’t believe what he was doing. “what the hell are you doing seunghan? g-get off of me..” but he didn’t move. no not at all. why would he? he wanted this.

“I’m tired of pretending, pretty boy. aren’t you tired of pretending you don’t want me as well hm?”

shock. you looked at him in utter shock not believing what he was saying. was this another joke? which friend told him to act like this? you pushed his hand off of you but he brought it back up to your waist instantly and moved his body closer to your own until you two were pressed up against each other—his bulge.. was now touching your own. “s-seunghan this isn’t funny.” but he was serious. he wasn’t laughing like he would be if this was a joke. he wasn’t smiling. you’ve never seen this look on him before and it was confusing. now both of his hands were on your waist and he leaned in to your ear, warm lips touching the lobe—

“meet me upstairs in my room in 5. I mean it.”

seunghan then pressed a quick kiss below your ear and pulled away from you disappearing back in the house. not realizing it.. you’ve been holding your breath the entire time and when he was gone you could finally breathe, chest heaving up and down. holy shit. did that.. actually happen? you weren’t sure why he wanted to see you but why not. after about 5 minutes or what seemed to be 5 minutes—you made your way upstairs and to his room giving it a knock before letting yourself in. seunghan sat on the edge of the bed stroking his clothed cock and patted the seat next to him.

“lock the door.”

it was a demand—so you did. “if you need your dick wet so bad why not ask one of the girls down there.” seunghan could only chuckle at how pissed you sounded. it was quite obvious you were jealous and although you didn’t mean to show it.. it happened that way. his eyes never left your own as you sat down next to him not wanting to look down at.. him touching himself. seunghan scooted closer to you and wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you into his side, his face nuzzling in the crook of your neck.

“you don’t know how long I’ve wanted this. you’ve been on my mind since we were kids. at first I tried to ignore it but.. I just couldn’t. tell me you feel the same way, please? you feel the same way about me baby?”

what? what the hell. you felt as if your heart would beat right out of your chest. no words could form and all you did was stare into oblivion. what do you say to this? to the man who has been bullying you for years now and making your school life miserable. “s-seunghan this is a really fucked up joke.. you know that? stop this.”

“it’s not a damn joke! are you that fucking stupid? I like you loser. I’ve always liked you I just don’t know how to show that or be around you. I’m nervous as fuck and.. can’t properly think when I’m around you. I’ve faked it all to look cool and it’s not right. I want you. I want you so bad I can’t take it anymore.”

and with those words he laid his forehead against yours, free hand resting on your face rubbing away the warm tears that ran down your cheeks. seunghan thought you looked perfect like this.. crying because of him? god he loved it. his lips pressed against your own and it was as if his lips were made for yours—molding together so perfectly. he bit down on your bottom lip forcing his tongue in your mouth when your lips parted and a moan escaped your throat—grabbing your hand and leading it to his hardened cock in his pants.

“look at what you did to me baby.. showing up in such a cute little outfit like this. you look so different and it’s such a good different. I mean—you’re so adorable in the uniform but this? so. fucking. cute.”

your lips curled up into a cute smile—growing shy with the cute and sweet compliments he was showering you in. you groped his cock and rubbed it just like you’d do to your own and his lips parted—a raspy groan leaving them that made your own cock twitch in your pants. it was his turn to feel yours although it was much harder with the jeans on than his sweatpants so he took it upon himself to unbutton your jeans—you gasped. not sure if you were ready for him to see you in such a way yet. I mean.. would it be embarrassing?

“what baby? let me see your pretty cock, hm? I’ll let you see mine. I’m sure it’s the prettiest cock ever. let seunghan see okay? you’ll be okay. I promise.”

the way he spoke about himself in third person was so hot. you slowly nodded your head and helped him get rid of the jeans you were wearing. “such a good boy.” and your cheeks burned growing quite embarrassed by this situation but not in a negative way—it was far from that. this was your dream. you were definitely going to take advantage of this now. it was his turn to take off his pants leaving you both in your underwear. it was so.. intimate. especially with the way he stared at you as if you were the most perfect human alive.

“touch me baby. don’t be afraid, yeah? touch me and I’ll touch you how’s that sound? wanna jerk you off so bad.. you don’t know how many times I’ve thought about this and came so hard.”

seunghan wasn’t afraid to admit his feelings and how he thought of you. it was clear he wanted you to know. your hand found his cock and his found yours.. facing each other and slowly jerking each other off. your eyes finally left his to look down at his cock—which was the prettiest. your mouth watered at the sight and you so badly wanted to kiss the pretty dark pink tip. so without thinking about it you pushed his hand off your cock and leaned forward—wrapping your lips around the head and sucking gently. “oh.. oh fuck.” hearing seunghan cruse in such a way was so attractive and you wanted to hear more. his hand reached up to grip your hair keeping your head down and you took more of him into your mouth—down your throat until you gagged slightly from the tip hitting the back of your throat.

“fuck—baby that’s so good. you’re so good at this.”

were you? you weren’t going to tell him this was your first time ever sucking cock before. it was more than embarrassing at this point. you continued to bob your head up and down allowing him to be aggressive and force your head down so you’d take his entire length down your throat, pushing you off allowing you to gasp for needed air. “you’re such a good boy for me. fuck.”

seunghan pulled you by the hair and slammed his lips into yours tasting himself on your perfect lips and tongue that he already adored so much. after a few minutes of making out or what seemed like forever.. he pulled away from you and chuckled. “gonna fuck you so hard that everyone here knows you’re mine.”

[melwsnt]

MAYBE, SAM WINCHESTER.

summary. you and sam are both falling out of love with each other.

Word count. 826

Nooo my shayla number 2… Dean got one, Sam deserves one too because he’s so loved. By me. This makes me so sad. I need to write a happy one now. Pls interact :)

──────────୨ৎ──────────

Sam is not a hypocrite. But he’s a terrible liar. The way he touches his hair, paces, does anything to avoid and run from you.

It’s pretty obvious, now. You know exactly what he feels, because you feel it too. Or-don’t feel it, anymore.

His kisses don’t taste the same. His lips touch yours, but they’re barely here, it’s like a ghost of their own.

His hands touches yours from time to time, but it feels like his soul is gone. His hand is here-in yours, but he’s not. He does it because he’s used to it, he does it, because it’s an automat and he doesn’t want you to know, that’s he’s fallen out of love with you.

Your kisses are heavier than his, though also ghostly.

Your hands lay his in, because you’re used to it, and because though you don’t love him anymore, it’s still Sam. He’s still the safest person around. He’s still your best friend.

You tell him you love him because it’s what you think he wants to hear. He wants to hear that you have no idea how unhappy he is. That he doesn’t love you anymore, except you do know, because you don’t love him either.

Sometimes when you’re alone, you laugh about how fucked up and ironic it all is. Because not so long ago you were just two kids trying to make it through the day. Thinking that no one could come between the two of you, and that you’d be together forever. Neither of you thought what would come between your love would be- yourselves.

It’s beautiful though, you think. That two people who once loved each other so much, who would die for each other, could tear one another apart, without saying a single word. By their actions, or their lack of.

Sam has a beautiful soul, and you’ll love his soul forever- just not, him.

Neither of you can quite comprehend how it happened. You woke up one morning, and the spark was gone- like it’d never been there in the first place. His touch, his lips and his presence felt foreign, so did yours.

He could tell, sometimes that maybe you might feel the same. Maybe just maybe he won’t have to break your heart because you also lost it- that love. But you were still better at hiding it than him.

You didn’t cry about it which was out of character. You cried about a lot of things. But knowing that it wasn’t just you- that you weren’t crazy for falling out of love with Sam Winchester, made you feel more at ease.

Anyone would think it’s crazy to fall out of love with such a perfect man. Except he’s not perfect. At the end of the day, he’s still a man. He’s human. And no human is perfect. Sam has his flaws- you have yours. Sam pushes your buttons. Sam crosses a lot of lines. Maybe that’s what made you quit.

You quit loving him, maybe you gave up, and maybe that makes you a coward, but what does that make him?

Sam feels terrible. You’re the best and worst thing that’s ever happened to him. The moment the switch turned off, he felt like he might’ve lost his mind, because no one in their right mind would fall out of love with you.

So maybe he is crazy, maybe you both are. Maybe you’re both cowards, impatient, flawed, and stupid.

Maybe, just maybe this wasn’t meant to happen and there’s a whole universe out there where Sam is the love of your life. Maybe he cooks you breakfast, and spends long mornings laying in bed with you. Maybe- in this far away universe, sam is a husband, a father to your child or children, maybe you got out.

Maybe you’re a teacher, maybe he is.

Or maybe you’re strangers and never cross paths, maybe that’s all for the better for the other you’s.

Or maybe this was meant to happen, and it’s just a great story, ending with sad goodbyes, because he’s sam, and you’re you. You’re not perfect- this was never meant to be perfect. Maybe you’ll find your way back to each other, or maybe, just maybe this is the best thing to ever happen to you.

Maybe someone better is waiting for you, or him out there. Maybe in ten years either of you will be married with kids of your own running in the backyard of the house you bought. Sam will still be on the back of your mind, wondering how he’s doing. And you’ll be on the back of his while he’s taking the children to school.

Or maybe you’ll both be alone forever, because he was your one true love, and you his.

Maybe it’s meant to happen like that, even if it’s not fair.

It doesn’t have to be easy, it just has to be done.

[rei-ismyname]

X-Manhunt Chuck Hunt Omega Review

It's been a short and baffling road that's led us here to the finale of Chuck Hunt, but fortunately it's very easy to sum up for anyone coming in blind. Charles Xavier received a distress call from his Shi'Ar daughter Xandra and escaped from prison while affected by a brain tumor. Inconveniencing various X-Men along the way, he resurrected his long dead wife, Lilandra, and brought her up to speed. He's fucking off to space (again) with his imperialist bird wife (again) to heal a sickness (again.) It doesn't make any sense at all, so join me in the absurdity of disconnected action scenes and OOC moments before a big goodbye. Like Game of Thrones season 8, it looks great and makes little sense while blowing stuff up.

Frankly, I've found this event really frustrating. Chuck visited most of the X-books for an issue but the character and relationship payoffs have been slim. Exceptional X-Men handled it best by not having him appear at all, Red Skies Crossover style. Xavier has had a tremendous impact on everyone's life but he's only engaged with them performatively and superficially. It feels like he doesn't really care about the chaos he leaves in his wake, which is nothing new, and the resolution of his mission has been spoiled by solicits. I'm not mad about it, it's so ridiculous that I have to laugh.

In what's becoming a hallmark of From The Ashes, a flashback recontextualises the inter X-Men team dynamics. Scott thinks Xavier should stay in prison; Rogue disagrees and thinks Scott has some scheme requiring his absence, for reasons. Scott's dream speech is hilariously nonsensical while Rogue is just being obnoxious.

Gambit interjects before Scott can finish a sentence and Magik says what I've been thinking - 'what did Scott do?' What's the fucking problem, yo? We've seen in Uncanny that, yes, it is personal. Scott's name has been used as an insult. They relitigate the fall of Krakoa for some reason, with Rogue having an interesting summation. 'Taking out Phoenix' had only the broadest relationship to Krakoa's fall. Xavier surrendered due to ORCHIS sneaking a kill switch into Krakoan drugs, then he forced everyone through the gates. Rogue had the best view of anyone, as she carried Xavier to Krakoa where he broke down over thinking he'd killed everyone. She missed the rest because of Avengers duty.

The characters and the readers are both being gaslit into swallowing this tripe. I don't have room to show it, but Mystique is here to look sad. Mystique hates Chuck, and she should. Melee, Bronze, and the Outliers are here crying over a dude they've never met. Magneto has nothing to say, nor does Juggernaut. X-Manhunt has been a mishmash of discontinuity with motivations changing from page to page, let alone between issues. It's simply unbelievable that anyone would believe the narrative Chuck is selling, but that's what's on the page. There's no resolution here, no nod to history, recent or otherwise. Chuck is leaving and that's that, delusional goodbye speech and all.

I find it helpful to imagine circus music playing in the background of this discussion. Rogue has conspiracy theories, Gambit backs up Rogue, Scott is rendered speechless, and Magik tries to be the adult in the room. The only thing they achieve is a tentative alliance, something they probably had anyway. The best part is that none of this matters even a little bit. By the end they'll all be herded to where Chuck, ringleader of this circus, wants them.

Ilyana has multiple swords now, and Scott powers one up with optic blasts for THE RED SURFER! She could just teleport, but this is looks cooler. Why show tactics when you can go fucking cowabunga dudes! Lilandra is having a yarn to Chuck while giving him brain surgery, lol. It's standard curriculum for all Shi'Ar rulers. Gladiator could do this but he doesn't want to. She talks about her and Chuck feeling pain but it's overwhelmingly his 'children' that suffer. Obviously Yana is blown out of the sky, only to be caught by a demon Kaiju she summoned. Obviously.

Sage appears out of nowhere with John Wraith in tow, who has a robot Kaiju Sage borrowed from Storm. Yeah, Storm has Evangelion shit on her spaceship. Anyway, John speaks entirely in bible verse. They have a Kaiju fight, which wasn't on my Chuck Hunt bingo card, and Magik gets fucked up. SCARLET SCATTERSHOT! No onomatopoeia here - we're naming moves because it's just so 3P1C!!!1! Magik is explicitly said to be bleeding out but nobody takes it very seriously. She'll be fine.

Magik easily teleports Scott onto Mr and Mrs Avian's fleeing ship, so yes they could have done this at any time. In a Hallmark moment, Scott removes his visor with a single tear streaming down his face. That's how we know this is emotional. It's been ten minutes and the brain surgery is nearly done lol, but it's kinda irrelevant because Chuck sends his astral form to just talk to Scott.

Xavier says the most insane shit possible in his speculation as to why he's being pursued. 'I'm trying to bail on all my responsibilities after fucking you all over. Why are you chasing me?' Scott's muzzle is finally removed so he can tell this man how delusional he is. Xavier comes clean about his moronic schemes and then claims that he's sacrificed so much for others. Probably not the best argument for a child soldier whose life you controlled since he was 15. Who's spent his entire life bleeding for your dream, which you're giving up on. Chuck is actually mad that Scott doesn't get it, when he's kept everything a secret. What's more, Scott has zero reaction to this revelation. None. Chuck is leaving and there's no time to payoff even the meagre emotional stakes that were setup. Don't worry, they'll get shit on even further.

Obviously he's yeeted off the ship by an unnamed move. How can we tell what it is? My suggestion would be END OF ACT 2 BEAM! As Scott plummets to his death, the ringleader cracks the whip and X-Men come tumbling out of a clown car. Rogue catches him, in a completely unearned moment of solidarity. It's surprising, yes, in the same way a baby is surprised at peek-a-boo. There's no object permanence here as people just appear where they're needed for the next bombastic moment. Instead of being relieved, Scott feels that he's failed. That they'll be blamed for the mess Chuck left behind. It's a valid position, considering The O*N*E came for them over a lot less than this. He has a panic attack and starts shooting optic blasts everywhere. That's not how they work, but it doesn't matter. Just pretend everyone has a red nose on as the circus music intensifies.

Yep, that's definitely the most appropriate way to handle Scott's very real mental health issues. Stab the motherfucker. Only the homoeroticism of Logan gently penetrating his ex gives it any kind of grace. Circus music clashes with 'intimate violence in the rain' vibes but that's what Chuck Hunt is - disparate scenes that would be powerful with setup and context smashed together to elicit unearned emotional response.

I'm not even going to touch Logan's lengthy Super Saiyan speech. He says some dumb shit then stabs Scott in the gut. Rogue could have stopped this far more safely. The point is that Chuck is gone and they have to make their own way. Scott already knew that, in fact he knew it twenty years ago. Scott's dead and Xavier is in space.

Good news everyone! Scott is totally fine, despite the very lethal gut stabbing. Ilyana too. Xavier's tumor is fixed like the trifle it is and he's back already, having summoned an arbitrary group of mutants for an unearned goodbye. The guard that killed his family and the entire city of San Francisco? Fuck them, somebody else's problem. It takes some gall to make us jump through all these hoops and present dire problems (like Xandra) only to not pay them off at the end. In fact, they never mattered in the first place. Xandra is barely mentioned, just a McGuffin who's probably having her teeth pulled out with pliers.

We also learn that Xavier had some great soup here once. Nice!

Logan doesn't want to fight. Growth! He apologises for the trivial wound he gave Scott, who shrugs it off. I don't care what Brevoort says, this is flirting.

Xavier has the balls to say that mutants are choosing to fight each other, when that's clearly not true. It's also the reason he formed the X-Men - to beat down mutants who weren't behaving themselves. They were fighting because of you, buddy. For some reason nobody challenges this, nor his claim that he never wanted to be a general. Scott didn't either - you made him one. Shit, maybe we're still in Graymalkin and this is all a hallucination. It doesn't look anything like reality. I suppose it's a small price to pay for being rid of Chuck for a few years, but it's an audacious misrepresentation of X-Men history.

It's cost you? YOU? Motherfucker that is a terrible apology. 'Well, it's been tough for me, which I'm sorry for, and that's why I'm leaving. Good luck living in the mess I created. Catch you later when the MCU synergy comes.'

Emma kisses him on the cheek and tells him he deserves it. Why not? It's not like she hates him or anything. 🙄 Kids who have never met him or heard of him are crying but Scott has zero reaction. Nada. Contradicts everything we've been shown, even in this event. If that's what it takes to get rid of Chuck? Sure, see you later dude. Scott should start a school, you say? I know a great place for that, but it's been turned into a ghoulish prison due to someone's actions. Scott is at war with the USA - fortunately DOOM is building schools. Let's go with that. Maybe he's just exhausted with this man and his schemes within schemes. He should have known the chessmaster had a ruse going, one that gave him PTSD and fucked everything up.

There's so many things I could be mad about, but who has the energy? We jumped through flaming hoops to get here and ignored character moments that make any sense in favour of dizzying spectacle. As Gambit does cartwheels, the circus music plays Chuck out, and I choose to clap like a walrus. X-Manhunt wasn't very good - it wasn't trying to be good, but maybe the X-books can figure out a new Chuck-less thesis or identity. Imperial should be fun, and really we're just playing a familiar beat - Chuck bailing to space while the X-Men get on with their lives. Nice to see he's recovered quickly from brain surgery too. Good for him, and nice work Lilandra.

[chrisbratt333]

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔･°‧🍒 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃! 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭

Mdni: stomach ache, sub!matt, smut, fluff

𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃 walked into her shared house with her boyfriend Matt and her best friends, Chris and Nick. 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃 notices only Chris and Nick’s enthusiastic voices in the living room and not Matt’s. Confusion laced across her features, 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃 continues up the stairs and is met with Chris grabbing a soda out of the fridge and Nick sitting at the table working on editing a video for next week’s Friday upload. “Hey gorgeous.” Nick chimes. Chris following behind with a hug and a soft, “Hi, Matt’s in you guys shared room, he was complaining about his ankle per usual but also his stomach hurting too.”

“Yea and he’s being a big fucking baby if you ask me.” Nick exclaims with an eye roll. 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃 only laughs at Nick’s side remark, knowing it was completely true, Matt had a habit of acting like a whiny puppy when he was sick. “What do you two have planned for tonight?” 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃 asks as she grabs a water from the fridge to bring to Matt knowing he probably hasn’t been drinking enough water lately. “Nothing much, might watch a movie or play Fortnite if Nick is down to.” Chris responds as he flops himself on the couch, cracking open his pepsi can. “Surprisly enough I actually feel like playing Fort today, so you’re in luck Chris.” Nick says as he closes his laptop. “You need any help taking care of big baby?” Chris laughs looking at 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃. “No I’m good, hopefully some water and a few crackers will help ease the stomach pains.” 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃 says as she takes off her shoes and makes her way to her and Matt’s room. “Goodnight boys.” 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃 says blowing them kisses playfully. Both Chris and Nick respond with dramatically blowing kisses back her way.

Once inside, the smell of Matt’s cologne filled 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃’s senses. Pouting softly at the sight in front of her, Matt is completely bare. His shirt discarded on the floor near her feet, his baggy basketball shorts following and lastly his boxers all clumped in a pile. Matt’s soft snores are interrupted at the sound of footsteps, upon seeing his beautiful girl, Matt croaks out a soft, nasally, “Hi baby.” Emitting a loud cough as he weakly reaches for her hand. “Missed you.” He mutters looking up at her with a pout on his chapped lips. Once Matt gets ahold of 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃’s hand he places a weak, but loving kiss to her knuckles. “I missed you too sweet boy.” 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃 says while removing her clothes off her body, already getting that out of the way since she knows Matt will whine and pout about wanting to be a close as possible. “I brought you some water, here sit up pretty.” She says softly. Coaxing him up with her hands applying slight pressure to his sweaty back to help assist him upwards. Matt lets out grunts and groans at the uneasy feeling on his stomach at the sudden movement. “Mmmm babe…” Matt groans out in pain, slumping himself against her naked body. “So pretty.” He mutters to himself, even being sick doesn’t take away Matt’s ability to praise 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃 and be in absolute awe of her beauty. “Here sweet boy, just a few sips to keep you hydrated. Then we can lay back down.” 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃 cradles Matt’s pale face as he barely opens his mouth to receive the water. “Good boy.” 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃 praises once Matt takes a sip. Matt lifts his face just enough to look into 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃’s eyes. “Thank…thank…you” Matt croaks. 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃 hums softly as a response. Lifting herself off the bed to go turn on the fan and place the water bottle on the dresser, 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃 hears a soft cry. Turning her head to face Matt she sees a single tear drop run down his pale, sweaty face. “Please…please don’t leave.” Matt whimpers. 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃 gives Matt a soft smile, moving the covers and placing herself next to Matt. “Not going anywhere sweetheart.”𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃 says placing a soft kiss to Matt’s damp hair. Matt nuzzles himself into 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃’s embrace, thankful for her nurturing care. Looking up at 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃, Matt lets out a soft whimper, “wanna taste you please.” Matt whimpers pawing at her hardened nipples. “Go ahead baby.” 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃 says pressing a kiss to Matt’s forehead once again as she wraps her arms around Matt’s shaky frame. “Get some sleep baby, I’ll be right here when you wake up.” 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃 says. Matt lets out a soft hum at her words as he wraps his lips around her nipple humming at the taste of her. “Baby?” Matt says mumbled against her. “Can you warm me?” Matt asks with a pout. Pressing a kiss to his lips 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃 lets out a small, “Of course baby, come here.” 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃 grabs Matt’s leaking length and slides him into her wet folds. The two releasing breathy moans at the sensation. “So good.” Matt whimpers.

Matt falls asleep with 𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃’s soft nipple in his mouth, his hand laces around her other breast, his leaking cock inside, and lastly his other hand gripping her ass.

Adorable dividers by @bernardsbendystraws

Taglist 🍒🤍: @chrepsi @sturniolo-szn2 @sturniolosymphony @loveliest-sturniolo @bernardsbendystraws @colorthecosmos444 @pasteldreams @courta13 @jensturnss @grace-sturnz @riasturns

[harrywavycurly]

Sarah my girl the HWC extra was so good.... made me feel so warm......i love them so much I wanna cry. They're married and having a baby oh I'm gonna die out of happiness. I need more of them. I need to see Harry as a dad he acted so mature with the Cody situation I wanna see more of him being all protective and hyper aware but also level headed. It was so good! You're amazing!!!

Hiii lovey!!! You’re so sweet I am so beyond happy you enjoyed that little update!! Harry was so mature wasn’t he? Meanwhile we have Niall acting like a wild animal but mainly because he was allowed to😂😂 now…this is fully all your fault so if it makes you explode into a million fluffy bits then I’m sorry but you made me do this okay? Because now all I’m thinking about is the natural next stage of not only their relationship and family but Harry’s hair length👀

With that being said enjoy this super tiny little glimpse into their future where Harry not only has long hair but also three kids with his sunshine girl ✨

-HWC can be found here✨

“Harry did you pack-”

“The extra bottle? Yes along with snacks for Grace and James and a teething ring for this,” Harry looks down just as he feels a tiny hand grab at his sock clad foot. “Drooling little mess of a boy.” He coos as he bends down to pick up his six month old son Henry who to everyone’s surprise has recently started crawling as well as teething meaning he leaves a small trail of drool just about everywhere he ventures off to while enjoying his playtime downstairs.

“At least he’s cute when he drools.” You tease as you give Harry’s backside a swift pat as you make your way around him in the kitchen.

“Your mom is being mean to me.” He gives the little boy a fake pout making a giggle bubble up out of him just as he hears the sound of little feet coming down the stairs.

“Uh oh I hear trouble.” You say with a laugh as your three year old daughter comes rushing around the corner and straight into your legs with a big grin on her face.

“Ah yes Grace Styles the biggest trouble maker of them all but if Gracie is down here that must mean her little brother James is down here some-”

“Gotcha!” Harry lifts his hand that’s not securely holding Henry, up to his chest as he gives it his all to act like the two year old that just jumped out of the kitchen pantry scared him.

“Oh you got me.” Harry says acting as if he has to catch his breath from being scared so bad, his hand goes from clutching his chest up to his forehead as James bends over laughing at how silly his dad looks. “Best scare yet I’d give it a solid eight.” You and Grace stand there and watch as the three boys get ready to go to the park for a fun family outing, James puts Henry’s socks on while Harry holds him and then once he’s done Harry puts Henry in his carrier while James takes a seat at the kitchen table and waits for Harry to help him put his shoes on since he hasn’t quite figured out which foot is which just yet but he’s getting there.

“Daddy do you always wear unmatched socks?” Grace asks as she walks around the kitchen island so she can sit at her seat so you can help put her shoes on. Harry quirks a brow as he stands up after finishing with James’s shoes and looks down at his feet and he can’t help but run a hand through his hair as he sees he does in fact have two different socks on, one white and one bright pink.

“Only on special occasions.” He gives you a playful wink when you look over at him from where you’re crouched down helping Grace with her shoes.

“But we are just going to the park?”

“Not just any park my love.” Grace and James turn to face Harry as he grabs the floral printed diaper bag that’s been in rotation ever since Grace was born. “We are going to the new park with the-”

“The swirly slides and yellow swings?” Both James and Grace ask at the same time making you laugh as you stand up and walk over to Henry who is gnawing on a toy hanging from the handle of his carrier.

“Yes the one with swirly slides and yellow swings.” Harry answers excitedly making the two little kids let out a squeal of happiness before they rush off towards the living room.

“Come on Hen let’s go get in the car while those two figure out which stuffy they are bringing to the park today.” Harry feels a grin spread across his face as he watches you lean down and place a big kiss to the top of the baby’s head before looping your arm under the handle of the carrier.

“Ya know I feel like we could do-”

“Henry isn’t even one yet so don’t try to sweet talk me into trying for another one right now.” You feel his hands on your hips as you slide your sunglasses on, Harry lets out a chuckle as he leans down and places a kiss to the side of your neck.

“He will be one in a few months so what’s the harm in just talking about it? Come on sunshine remember when you told me you wanted six kids? We’re only half way there.” You know he’s only partially joking because you know Harry wants as many kids as you’re willing to give him, six being the random number you tossed out drunkenly on your honeymoon many years ago.

“Fine we can talk about it later.” You say with a sigh as Harry’s hands pull you back just a bit so you’re flush against him.

“I love you.” He whispers in your ear before you turn your head so he can place a kiss to your lips.

“I love you too now hurry up and put your shoes on before those two come in here and get upset with you for making us late to the park.” Harry just smiles as he lets go of you so he can walk around you and open the front door for you. He gives Henry a little wave and a funny face as he looks down at him when you walk by and out the door towards the car to get him situated.

“Daddy what are you doing? Where are your shoes?” Grace’s voice makes him turn around and rush to slip into his worn out vans that he keeps by the door.

“Sorry honey I just need to grab-”

“Let’s roll!” James shouts in excitement as he appears by the front door holding the diaper bag Harry had placed on the kitchen table before helping you with the front door.

“Okay then.” Harry says with a laugh as he takes the bag from his little boy. “Let’s roll!” He pumps his fist in the air making James cheer as he sprints out the front door with a very happy Grace following behind him while Harry laughs and shakes his head as he closes the door and locks it before heading down the path towards the driveway.

[sports-on-sundays]

Hello hello, I am back with another request! It's with Oscar again but friends to lovers. Hear me out, the most cliche thing ever. Oscar loves her, she loves him but both too dense to realise it. They are out and about and another dude corners her and tries to make out with her, Oscar saves the day (make him protective and violent pls, make him punch the guy (side note: I would pay money to see Oscar actually punch someone, don't ask me why idk🙈)). So then he comforts her, takes her home and she asks him to stay. I will leave the rest of the convo to you🤗. Let there be a first kiss and cuddle I beg I am the biggest sucker for those bcs Oscar seems like the best guy to have your firsts with.

Holy hell that's a long ass request haha. Thank you for reading all that🤣 have fun with it and feel free to change things up a little bit if you want to!

be / OP81

Summary: Oscar x female!best childhood friend!Australian!reader - You and Oscar are finally forced to realize your feelings for each other.

Warnings: panicking, someone forcing himself onto another person, blood, crying, i did change up the request a little bit 🤏, feeling sick

Requested: Yes! And don't worry about the long request, I really liked it, and thanks so much for requesting! Long requests are better sometimes anyway.

Author's Note: Guys I'm starting to think I seriously need my very own Oscar Piastri....

"It wasn't even that funny-"

"It wasn't even that funny!"

Both you and Oscar look up to who it was mockingly imitating Oscar's friendly teasing, and your eyes set themselves upon Lando Norris, smirking obnoxiously.

"What's your problem?" you demand, crossing your arms, most of the laughter from Oscar's joke that he made fives minutes ago (yes, you were still laughing your head off at it) gone.

"What do you mean? I'm just kidding. It's just funny how your boyfriend can make the most dumb joke, and send you both into a ten minute laughing fit-"

"Boyfriend?" you and Oscar seem to ask incredulously in sink.

The smile falls off of Lando's face this time, and is replaced by a look of surprise and confusion. "Waaaait... So you're trying to tell me you guys aren't dating?"

Oscar blinks a few times in confusion. "Y/n and I are just friends. We always have been."

"Yeah," you add quickly, nodding. "I don't know why everyone thinks differently."

Lando's eyebrows raise in amusement. "Maybe because you guys act like you're mad in love...? Like, all the time? Or maybe the fact that you come to every single one of our races? Or maybe it's the way you look at each other with heart eyes, like the other one is the only one in the room? I mean, I don't know. It could be the way you're always giggling and talking and yapping to each other... But, oh, what do I and everybody else know?"

"Good question," Oscar deadpans. "What do you know?"

Lando shrugs, rollings his eyes, and struts away. As soon as he's gone, Oscar turns back to you with a little shrug and says, "Sorry about that. I guess nobody gets that two people can love each other as friends without feeling romantic feelings..."

You nod, shrugging. It makes sense to you, simply because that's how it's always been with you and Oscar, forever. The two of you practically slept in the same crib (not literally!). You always just assumed he's like a brother or something, and it doesn't pay to consider anything else. So you haven't. Too risky, and besides- that's not worth it to waste your time thinking about. You like things just the way they are, no need to change them.

"-Y/n?"

"Hm?!" you look up, snapping out of your pondering.

Oscar smiles at you, his brown eyes soft, like they always are when he looks at you. You smile back, eyes equally as warm as he says, "Did you hear me?" in amusement.

You chuckle, "No, sorry."

He nods, giving your shoulder a little pat as he stands up. "I've got to go now get ready for the race. First of the season. Wish me luck!"

"Luck isn't needed," you say with a little grin. "You've got enough skill alone to win it."

He grins. "I guess. But luck never hurts, does it?"

"Not at all." You stand up with him and give him a quick half-hug, saying gentler, "Drive safe, and bring it home. I'll be cheering you on."

"Like always?"

"Like always."

"Hey, Y/n?"

You look up from your phone, shutting it off. You're sitting alone, long after the 2025 season opening race, the Australian Grand Prix, has ended. You haven't seen Oscar since the race ended, and have just been sitting around, not wanting to go home until you have a chance to talk with him. And there he is, standing there, back in his regular clothes: a black sweatshirt, sweatpants, and sneakers, looking thoroughly sleepy.

You immediately stand up, smiling, saying simply, "It was a great drive."

"Well, I-"

"Hush. You scored points after what happened, and that's enough, for goodness' sake."

He smiles softly, and though his eyes say a lot more, he just nods and says simply, "Yeah, yeah, you're right. As always."

You nod promptly and say teasingly, "I know!"

He just rolls his eyes and says, already in a better mood just by talking to you, "Mum wanted you over tonight for dinner."

You grin, "She did, did she?"

"You know she always does, whenever I'm around, want me to bring you over. She adores you."

"She's the sweetest," you chuckle. "Well, I wouldn't mind one of your mum's home cooked meals."

Oscar nods, grabbing his coat, and saying, "I agree; that would hit the spot right now. C'mon."

You two make it to the car and get in, before you start heading to Oscar's mother's home. The car ride is mostly silent, but neither of you really mind. It's a comfortable, good kind of silence.

Towards the end of it, though, you ask simply, "So, that's the end of the first race week of the season. How're you feeling?"

Oscar shrugs, thinking for a few moments, before saying, "Hmm... I guess I'd have to say tired, but very hopeful."

You smile. "Good. You just need your beauty rest, huh?"

He glances at you with a cute little smile. "Right."

Dinner is nice. Warm, and reminds you of home, and your childhood, and everything good. And it's perfect for a rainy day like today.

Once he's finished eating, though, Oscar stands up, stretching, from the table, and says, "Well, I should be off to bed..."

"Oh, Oscar, you will give poor Y/n a ride home won't you?" Oscar's mother asks.

He looks over at you with a little smile and nods, saying, "Oh, right, of course."

You walk to the door together, but before Oscar opens the front door to leave, you gently grab his arm and say simply, "Osc."

He looks up from unlocking the door, meeting your eyes. "Hm?" he asks gently.

"You don't need to drive me home. I could get a cab or take the bus or whatever. It's all good. You've had a crazy week, as it is, much crazier than mine-"

"I mean, I was thinking maybe it'd be fine if I didn't drive you home, too, but you don't have to get a cab. I'm sure if I asked, my mum would be fine with you just staying the night or something."

You blink in surprise, but smile at the suggestion. "Oh. Well, I'd hate to bud in-"

He smiles. "You're family, Y/n. Don't worry." He takes your hand, tugging you back towards the dining room, calling, "Mum! Would it be fine if Y/n just stayed the night? We've both had a long day!"

"Oh, of course, honey! Tell her she can make herself just all nice and comfy and at home! Y/n's such a sweetheart, anyways. She's always welcome!"

Oscar smiles, looking at you. "You heard that, right?"

You smile back up at him with a little laugh. "Yeah, I heard that."

He nods, saying, "C'mon, let's go to my room."

The two of you head there, both of you knowing the way to Oscar's childhood bedroom from all the years you used to spend in there together. When you walk in, seeing all the dressers in the same place they always were, and all Oscar's old decorations from his karting days, memories seem to flood back, just like that, and both you and Oscar feel it. You crawl onto his bed, just like you always used to do, flopping down against his pillows, making yourself at home.

Oscar smiles and crawls in next to you. Just like he always used to do, too. "Last time we were both here was..."

"...right after you joined McLaren, right?" you smile at the memory.

"I guess so." He smiles down at you.

"I remember distinctly, one time, you had been gone so, so long, and I asked your mum if I could surprise you when you got home..."

Oscar starts laughing, clearly remembering it to. "Ohhh yeah. I threw open the bedroom door and flopped on my bed, even though you were on it. By the time I saw you and yelped, it was too late."

"Yeah, and I wrapped my arms around you and started tickling you," you say giggling.

He rolls his eyes, grinning. "I remember. By the end of it, I was gasping and near tears. God, Y/n, you know I was tired."

"I know. But I made you laugh and smile, didn't I? And I made you feel better, didn't I?"

"I mean, I was just happy to see you," he says, his gaze comfortably resting on yours.

"I was happy to see you. Do you know how much I missed you those months?"

"You miss me if you don't see me for a week, Y/n, still."

"Why do you think I come to every race that I can?"

"Because I pay for you to?"

You roll your eyes at that, crossing your arms, "I mean, yeah, but that's not the sentiment I was going for!"

He laughs, giving your shoulder a little playful tap. "I know, I know."

You sigh deeply, the sweet silence settling between the two of your for a little while, before murmuring, "And I hope you remember after that tickle attack, when your face was red and you were nearly crying from laughing, I gave you the biggest hug of all time..."

Oscar's face warms at that as he leans a bit closer to you. "Yeah... Yeah, I remember. You wanna know why that moment was special to me?"

"Why?"

"Because that was the moment I realized that there are some people in my life that never truly will leave me. Even if I leave them. And you're one of the best of them. That was when I learned what family is."

You nod slowly, thinking about that for a few moments, before saying, "That's... so sweet. I like it."

Oscar smiles. "Me, too. I like it too. I'm so lucky to have a best friend like you."

"And I so lucky to have a best friend like you."

Oscar smiles at that, nodding, satisfied, before letting out a big yawn, reminding you if a sleepy cat, before folding his hands up into fists and rubbing his watery eyes.

And, as if it's contagious, you let your own yawn, a few moments later.

Oscar smiles, this time more sleepily at you, before slipping his arm over your shoulders and pulling you a little closer to himself. You flop your head to lean against his shoulder, and murmur, "Time for us both to get the much-needed rest our bodies are begging us for?"

"Mmm-hm. Yeah. Whatever you said," Oscar murmurs as he drifts off, the hint of a smile still lingering on his mostly relaxed face.

And you both drift off, surrounded by that perfect warmth and tranquility that feels just like home.

A little under a week later, you're sleeping against Oscar in a very similar position, feeling like you're just as at home in China than you are in Australia, simply because of the person you're resting against, when you're awakened by the painful claims, "I ship it, the mechanics ship it, the other teams' drivers ship it, the fans ship it. My God, even my mum ships it! Literally everyone can see you're mad in love except you and her!"

You stretch, your eyes fluttering open, and murmur before you're even sure it's Lando's unwanted yapping torturing your ears, "Landooo shut uppp..."

Oscar gives your shoulder a squeeze, groaning to Lando in his perfectly alert awake state (contrary to yours), "Look at that, Lando, you made her wake up!"

"Oh, yeah, 'cause you'd hate for her to stop sleeping against y-"

"Lando, stop, it's not like that."

"How come every time a girl and a guy are friends, everyone ships them? I think that's society's problem," you comment as you rub your tired eyes.

Lando snorts, saying, "It's not every time. You guys are just obvious. And oblivious. You just need to admit it to each other."

"There's nothing to admit to each other, Lando," Oscar comments as he watches you slowly lean off of him, slipping his arm off your shoulders.

"Yeah, we're, like, brother and sister."

"Well, I wouldn't say that-" Oscar begins quickly.

"I mean, yeah, like-"

"We're more like just really close friends," Oscar finishes confidently.

"Yes, that's true, I agree," you say quickly, looking up at him. "We're family, but not brother and sister."

"Ah, so you're family, but it's not like siblings. What else could you be other than mad in love but just too dense to realize it?" Lando asks.

You just glare, crossing your arms, and Oscar comments, "I don't know, but it's not like that."

"Maybe it's just not like that simply because you both refuse to admit what you really want."

"Lando, I don't need you of all people being my psychologist. Could you just leave it?" you comment, feeling Oscar's eyes watching you.

Lando sighs (overdramatically), shrugs, and says, "Suit yourself. I'm just saying, you guys have got to get together soon, or else you'll drive yourselves and everyone else insane. We can all tell you guys just need to kiss already." And with that, he once again struts away.

As soon as he's gone, you whine, leaning your head into Oscar's shoulder, "I hate Lando!"

"Don't say that. He's just kidding," Oscar says gently.

You sigh. "I know... it's just..."

"Hm?" Oscar prompts gently.

"I don't want people thinking something that's not true."

"Who cares what they think? We both know how we feel about each other, and that's all that matters." But do we? Oscar's brain echoes.

"Yeah, you're right," you murmur, nodding, comforted by his words, not even picking up the way he stares forward, eyebrows knitted together, deep in thought.

You've heard what you think you want to hear, and that's all that matters to you.

The moment you see Oscar after his podium, after he stood on the first step, winning such a solid race as that, you run into his arms, causing him to laugh as he hugs you back, saying, "Hey, Y/n."

"I'm so proud of you!" you say excitedly. "Amazing drive- amazing!"

"Thank you, Y/n. It means a lot. I'm so happy you were here to cheer me on."

You grin up at him. "Me, too, Oscar. Me too."

He celebrated with his team after the race, you staying in your hotel, since Oscar promised you he'd like to bring you home with him to Monaco, and have a more low key celebration, without as many people. Besides, you'd like it that way better anyway. And this way, you can get some extra sleep and try to avoid some of the jet lag from the long flight to Monaco.

Now you stand in Oscar's bathroom back in Monaco, gazing at yourself in the mirror in your white crop top and silver skirt, knowing that when you step out of the bathroom, all you need is for Oscar to tell you it looks nice, and then all your worries will vanish.

And once you do, of course, he stands up from the living couch and says, "You look really pretty. Ready to go?"

You smile softly, sighing in relief, and nod. "Yes. I'm ready to go celebrate with the winner of the 2025 Chinese Grand Prix." You laugh a bit, and add as you head out to the car, "Oscar, you know I'm so incredibly proud of you."

He grins. "I know, I know." You know he loves your lavishing, even if he wouldn't admit it. He's never gotten enough of it; you're one of the people that appreciate him the most, you think, at least. You appreciate him a whole lot, anyways.

Soon you get to your destination, and the night starts off really fun, you and Oscar just sticking with each other, laughing, singing, drinking, and dancing. But after too long, the air becomes stale, the noise becomes too loud, and the drinks turn bitter. You're tired, and Oscar's off somewhere, swept away with his other friends. You sigh deeply, leaning against the wall, running a hand through your hair.

It's then that you feel a hand on your shoulder, and it makes you flinch. It's unfamiliar.

It's not Oscar's hand.

You look up to see a man around your age with tangled overgrown curly brown hair and dark, cold eyes. He's wearing a gold chain around his neck and a football jersey. It's then that he shows you his unflattering smirk and says in a thick French accent, "I'm Jordan."

You just kind of nod, showing a fake smile and crossing your arms, not really in the mood for any antics with any strange guys.

His eyebrows raise as he says, "Do you have a name, or am I going to have to give you one?"

Your lip immediately curls up as you look at him from the corner of your eye, still not tilting your face directly towards him. "You're not smooth. My name is Y/n."

"Pretty name for a pretty girl. A sassy girl, too, at that. I like that."

You bite your lip, rolling your eyes in utter annoyance at this guy 'Jordan.' "Good for you..." you murmur, trying to send him the message that you really don't want to talk with him.

Jordan just hums and steps closer to you. You glance up at him for the first time, really, feeling a bit sick from how close he is to you. You murmur awkwardly, "Could you please step away?"

"No, I don't think I will. I'm enjoying your reaction too much."

"Please, stop."

He roughly grabs your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. You swallow deeply.

"I really like your skirt..." he purrs, leaning in closer to you, completely ignoring your protests. His hand slips onto your thigh and grips it tightly.

"Stop... I don't care-"

"You don't, don't you? Well, what a shame... I reckon there's not much you can do about that..."

"St-"

He lips meet yours in a nasty, rough kiss. Your head pounds and spins as your knees begin to shake, panic of what's happening sinking in, your thoughts raging with anxious thoughts at the same time as your head being completely empty. You push at his chest, but he pushes his whole body up against yours, pinning you to the wall, further into a shadow.

You gasp, the panic sinking in deeper, and hardly register what happens next.

Oscar's familiar voice in all the chaos says in one of the angriest, coldest tones you've ever heard from his mouth, "Get your fucking nasty hands away from her."

Jordan tears his lips away from your mouth as Oscar grabs him, Jordan turning his head to look behind him, but before he has a chance to react, you watch as a fist comes flying across and hits him square across the face. He stumbles back and as blood begins gushing from his nose. For a moment, his eyes meet yours in shock, as if he expects you to help a dog like him, but it's then that you watch Oscar grab him by the collar and murmur in the darkest of tones to him, "I told you to get your nasty hands away from her, and you didn't. That's my girl, and no one dares to touch her like that. You better not think you can go on like this, and I hope this can be a reminder for you not to." And with that, Oscar throws another punch, hitting the guy in his eye. You slowly slip down the wall, still watching in shock as Oscar finishes him off by handing one more punch to him on his bloody jaw, before letting go of his collar, letting him fall to the floor, finishing with a yell, "The pain you're feeling right now is nothing compared to the pain you deserve!"

You watch as Jordan scampers up and, just like that, without even considering a fight, stumbles off, out of sight.

And then, everything hushed, Oscar turns, and his eyes meet yours. His hair is a little sweaty and messed up, falling over his forehead. For a moment, you see that remaining burning anger, but as soon as he takes you in, that vanishes, and is replace by the familiar warmth he seems to always look at you with.

And the moment your eyes lock, the tears start coming, and you break down.

Oscar is immediately by your side, pulling you into his arms, sitting on the floor next to you and holding you in his lap, gently stroking your hair. After a while, you hiccup, slowly leaning away, your body still shaking, and murmur, mopping up your eyes with your hands, "Os- Oscar... That was scary. I'm scared."

He gently takes your hand. "You don't have to be. I'm here. Are you ready to go home?"

You nod slowly, and Oscar helps you up, leading you out back to his car, his arm around your back protectively the entire time.

Once back in the car, as the events of what just happened replay through your head, you hiccup, more tears threatening to flow. Oscar gently takes your hand, murmuring in the dark of the parked car, "Tell me what I can do for you, and I'll do it. I hope you know I'll do anything for you to feel better."

You sigh shakily and just lean into him. He wraps his arms around you, holding you for a few minutes, before you lean away again and murmur, "Let's just get home..."

Oscar nods. "Good idea." He turns the car on and begins driving, and as soon as he does holds his hand that he's not using to drive out to you. You put your hand in his, letting the warmth from it fill you and comfort you.

As he drives, you suddenly say in the empty silence, "'That's my girl.' That's what you said."

Oscar just nods a little. "I know. I did mean to say that, you know."

You swallow, thinking for a few moments, before murmuring the simple question, "Why?"

"Because you've always been mine and I've always been yours, haven't I?"

You swallow. "I don't know what that means."

"Forget what it means. You're the most important girl- the most important person- to me. You're my girl, and I'm not going to let anyone be messing with you."

That feels right to you, and good to you, to hear that. And you're glad, in a way, that he's so confidently figured that out. It frees you to say back, "Well, yeah, then... I guess that makes you my boy, then..."

Oscar smiles very softly, giving your hand a little squeeze as you arrive at his home. Once you're both inside, before you have a chance to start worrying, Oscar says gently, putting a hand on your shoulder, "I want you to be comfortable. What do you need? I could get you something to eat, run a bath for you, get a change of clothes, all three, whatever else you need-"

"Oh, uh, don't worry about it-"

"Hush," Oscar suddenly interrupts, shaking his head. He moves to stand right in front of you, before gazing down into your eyes, and saying in all sincerity, "Look, I want you to be honest. I want to take care of you if that's what you need. I want you to be comfortable."

You swallow, nodding a bit, before murmuring, "A bath and a change of clothes might be nice... I'm not hungry, though."

Oscar nods, putting his hand on your back, leading you to his room. He opens his closet and says, "You can wear whatever you can find. I'm going to go run that bath for you; I'll call you when it's ready. I'll get a towel for you in the bathroom, too."

You nod, find one of his bigger McLaren T-shirts and a pair of black sweatpants, and head to the bathroom just as Oscar is calling for you.

Oscar smiles at you gently when you walk in and say simply, "Anything else you need?"

You shake your head 'no,' saying, "Thank you."

He nods. "Of course. I'll just be in the living room, you can come there when you're done. Call me if you need anything. And take your time, too."

You smile weakly, nodding. "Alright. Thanks, Osc."

He nods, leaving you to have your bath. You peel off your clothes and sink into the water, feeling its warmth surround you like an embrace. You let out a long sigh of relief as the water touches your sore, tense muscles, soothing them. After the night you've had, it feels good to just be. To just experience something genuinely good and calming, knowing Oscar is just in the next room.

Oscar. The way he stood up for you, was so protective of you, and beyond that, has been taking such good care of you... You know Oscar a good man... He was always a really sweet boy, and he's grown up to be a really very upright and sweet man. It was crazy- crazy- to see him go off on that stranger, and beat him up the way he did.

But somehow, it felt right. It was just proving he's good. That he cares so much about and for you, he won't let anyone hurt you without knowing the consequences of it from him.

How much does he really care about me?

The question almost feels good to ask, because you have a feeling the answer is one you like.

And then the way he so confidently called you his girl.

'That's my girl.'

Just looking back on it, for some reason, it makes your heart skip a beat. It's that chest-tightening nervous affectionate feeling you get often when Oscar does or says little things. Although this time, it's not little, and every new thing he does seems to make your stomach flutter a little more. It's a familiar feeling that you're sure you've gotten hundreds of times before with Oscar, but for some reason, you're only realising it now. Why, you have no idea, and what the strange feelings could mean, you have even less of an idea.

Soon, you finish your bath, and after drying yourself put on Oscar soft, comfortable clothes, no matter how over sized they are on you. Besides, you don't care in the slightest about that as soon as you inhale his familiar, comforting scent when you put them on. You go to the living room and see Oscar laying on the couch on his phone, now in a T-shirt and sweatpants, just relaxing. As soon as you walk in, though, he looks up.

"Osc...? Do you have a brush I could use for my hair?"

He nods, hopping up from the couch, and says, "Yeah, I do. Wait here, I'll be right back. Just get yourself comfy."

He leaves, and you shrug, taking his advice, and curl up on the couch, waiting for him to come back. He takes longer than you expect him to, but soon enough, he walks back in and sits next to you, saying, "Why don't you just relax, and I can brush it for you?"

"Seriously? You don't have to," you say immediately, secretly wanting badly for him to brush your hair for you. You love the feeling of other people playing with your hair- and if it's Oscar, even better.

He smiles at you. "I know, but I want to." And with that, to both of your delight apparently, begins gently brushing through your hair. When he's done, he slowly start running his fingers through it, starting from the bottom and going up to the top. You sigh, leaning back into him, and Oscar just simply loves it. After a while he says, softly amused, "You just seem to melt when my hands are in your hair."

You shrug, smiling a little, and say, "What can I say? It feels really good."

He chuckles that low comforting chuckle that feels just like home. "I can tell." After a few more minutes he says, "I found a hair tie I think you must've left here at one point. Do want me to braid your hair or something?"

You smile, glancing back at him, and say, "You can do that? I don't know if I can trust you."

He just smiles back at you. "You should. I'm good at it. Remember, I grew up with three sisters."

You shrug again before saying, "Well, alright..."

He chuckles softly again, before he gently begins braiding your hair, his fingers gently weaving through your locks, slowly, until he finally finishes and ties it on the end. Once he's finished, you turn around to face him.

He smiles at you.

You smile back, taking his hands in both of yours.

"You're beautiful," he suddenly says, looking right into your eyes. "I don't think I've told you that enough. Because I think it all the time, whenever I look at you."

For some reason, your friend saying that makes you blush. There are a few moments of silence, before you look down at your joined hands and murmur, "Crazy that the hands that beat up that guy are the same hands that just gently braided my hair."

Oscar shrugs, smiling a little. "They have different uses in different moments. And I don't regret what I did for a moment, not any of it. I would do the exact same thing if I had to do it all again. In fact, just thinking about it makes me really angry. But what matters most is that you're okay."

You sigh slowly, nodding, your head a bit dizzy at the thought of it all. "I'm just so thankful for you, throughout it all. You, like, saved the day..." you chuckle wryly.

He shrugs, nodding a bit. "I guess." A little laugh.

More silence.

You stare down once more at your joined hands. "But Oscar..." you begin hesitantly.

"Yes?" he prompts gently.

"...I'm sorry."

"Y/n... for what? You did nothing wrong-!" Oscar begins somewhat incredulously.

"It's just... You were celebrating your win..."

"Oh, Y/n..." Oscar begins, his tone softening. "Come on, now. Look up at me, will you?"

You sigh, doing so.

"It's not your fault, what happened," Oscar says. "It's that idiot's fault, and we both know that. What happened happened, and there was no preventing it. And if you're worried about me, don't be. I had a perfectly good time celebrating in China with my team. This was more that I wanted to do something with you, for you. But look at this right now. Here we are, sitting together, anyway. Isn't that what matters the most anyway; isn't that the point? So why don't we just make the most of this moment, right now, hm?"

You sigh again, nodding slowly, before saying, you heart almost feeling like it's being squeezed, "Okay."

"Hey," Oscar murmurs, his hand touching the bottom of your chin. "You're looking down again. Talk to me." He gently raises your chin.

You swallow, and suddenly, words that you hardly knew you even thought start coming from your mouth, and only now as you hear them in your voice do they even begin to make sense: "I guess it's just that... You're so caring and gentle with me, and protective. And we like each other so much and get along so well and we've known each other for years and... I guess sometimes I wonder about us... You know, our relationship, like, what even is it? I mean, I think we'd both readily admit we most definitely love each other, but I guess... well, I don't know..."

Oscar nods slowly, before whispering, as if it's some long kept secret, "You guess you just wonder in what way we love each other?"

You swallow, nodding. "Well, yes, exactly. Because... well, I don't know."

"Can I tell you how I feel about you?"

You study his face for a few moments- his handsome face- and nod.

"I feel about you the most deep feeling I've ever known, deeper than I ever thought I could experience. The love I have for you is beyond anything I could describe in a physical sense- it's beyond a romantic love or and family love or the strongest kind of named love I could think of. All I know is that when I look at you, I see fulfillment, and happiness. I see everything I've ever needed, plus everything I've ever wanted. I see a priceless jewel- the sort of thing that anyone would honor and protect with their life. I see beauty herself, on the inside and out. I see my best friend, my favorite person, the one I would spend any and every moment with, if I could. I see comfort, I see love. I look at you and know the great lengths I would go for you. I know it's all so cliche, but it is a love beyond words. It is. I just..." he trails off, before leaning in and whispering, "Are you crying?"

You sniff, looking away, your heart pounding. "No..."

He smiles gently, his hand leaving yours to reach up and wipe a tear away off your cheek with his thumb, "Don't cry."

"That's just so... sweet... and... everything I exactly feel, too, put into words..."

"Y/n..." he hums gently with a little chuckle. "I don't want you to cry, though."

"Don't worry," you say with a little hiccupy laugh. "They're good tears."

He smiles a bit, grabbing your hand again and giving it a squeeze. "Okay."

You swallow, before daring to ask, "What would the difference be, if you were my boyfriend instead of my best friend?"

Oscar eyes seem to light slightly at the question, and he says simply, "Nothing at all, except for one thing: we would be able to express that deep love for each other in different ways."

You nod slowly, swallowing.

Oscar leans in closer to you. "How does that sound to you?"

"I... I think it could be just what I need."

Oscar smiles softly. "I mean, I feel like... it would be nice to not just have to use my words to tell you how much I love you. You know, to be able to kiss you, or something, instead."

You find yourself smile a little at the words, nodding as pinkness gets to your cheeks. "Yeah... that doesn't sound so bad."

Oscar smiles, just gazing into your eyes. "Yeah?"

"It's just that... with tonight, with what happened..."

"Oh, I wasn't meaning we had to do anything tonight- just to think about. You know...?"

You nod slowly, before muttering, "But maybe... Just maybe tonight is the night to do it." You pause, before continuing, "You know, with all that happened, maybe if we just decided... tonight, let's just take a little step... it would help me to leave that. You know, it wasn't my fault... and I have someone who really does love me."

Oscar smiles. "And I really do."

You smile back, looking back up into his sweet brown eyes.

He slips his hand out of yours and gently brings it to your cheek, muttering, "Well, is it okay if I kiss you? Just a little kiss?"

You smile wider, feeling your stomach flutter at the sincere question. Nodding, you reply, "Yes, I reckon that is okay."

Oscar nods, his thumb stroking your cheek a bit as he leans in, his other hand gently touching your waist. His hand on your cheek shifts to cup the side of your neck, and he whispers, his warm breath on your ear, "You still okay?"

You nod.

And with that, he leans in, and, pulling you closer to himself, kisses you in the most perfect way. His adoration and love for you flows through the kiss, while still keeping it short and gentle. When he leans away, he whispers, "How was that?" with a little adorable smile.

You just sigh shakily and murmur, "I think you should do it again."

And he does without a second more of hesitation. His lips meet yours as he pulls your body closer to himself, lost in the kiss, lost in his emotions. When he pulls away again, he's pulled you onto his lap, but neither of you seem to care, both too swept up in each other's gazing eyes.

"I didn't realize for how long I needed to do that..." he whispers gently.

You smile a little. "I didn't realize how long I needed that from you."

He smiles back. "We'll call that both of our first kisses, okay?"

You nod. "Does this mean I'm your girlfriend now?"

"I like the sound of that."

You smile and throw your arms around him in an embrace. He pulls you closer to him, leaning back so that you can lay your head on him, and rubs your back, whispering, "I love you so much, Y/n. So, so much. To the moon and the stars and all the way back."

You smile up at him. "I don't know about the moon and the stars for me Oscar, but I'll tell you this: I love you enough to want to spend my life with you. I love you enough to want to grow old with you."

At those words, Oscar's arms tighten around you, and he chuckles, "See how sappy we suddenly get as soon as we decide to just give it up and kiss? My God."

You grin into his chest. "Yeahhh... But I don't mind it."

"Oh, trust me, I don't either." He shifts, moving you with him, making you both comfortable, so that you're laying together, cuddling.

"I really like this."

He hums. "Me too."

"You know we'll never hear the end of it from Lando if he finds out."

You feel the vibration of his laugh in his chest. "I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, let's just relax. I just want to be. Be with you."

"I think that sounds like exactly what I was made for. To be with you."

He smiles, and you shut your eyes, content to listen to his heartbeat and just be.

Just be with him.

[mattsunsdollie]

Tourist Attraction

Trent Alexander Arnold x Fem!Reader

What better place for a girls trip then England? You get to cross it off your bucket list, and cross fucking a scouser too.

When your girlfriends suggested a girls trip to England, you were thinking London, Manchester or hell even Nottingham. Except, your girlfriends have a different city in mind, Liverpool.

You had no vendetta against Liverpool, but you had expected other “touristy” cities. When you all had landed you were met with thick accents, a little hard to understand but undeniably sexy.

The Air BnB was cozy, a small house for you and the 3 other girls. It was in the middle of the city, allowing you to just walk where needed. Although you yearned to visit London, you would still be able to cross England off of your bucket list.

You quickly learned that it was a town filed with huge personalities, and die hard fans for their soccer team. The locals also referring to each other as scouser’s.

The first few days were relatively spent the same way, exploring the town and trying restaurants and pubs. But after days of just being on the go, you needed a good relaxer and possibly a tan.

Finding a beach close by you convince your friends to go on the second to last day of the trip. It was noon and the streets were already filled with people.

Your pastel yellow bikini showing through your cover up crotchet dress. The stares and broken necks only fueled your ego. When you finally arrived at the beach the smell of salt comforted you.

It had been ages since you had been to the beach. Your friends found a spot and you all quickly placed your towels down and began applying tanning oil.

Putting your headphones on, you decided to lay on your stomach first. The hot sun burning your skin in a good way, a relaxing way. After 30 minutes you flipped over to your back. Which is when you noticed your friends had gone in the water, but you couldn’t be bothered.

Taking off your headphones for a moment, you see a little girl running and giggling. And before you know it, she’s running towards your set up, and sitting down on one of the towels next to you.

She’s a giggling mess as a man who you assume to be her father chases her.

“M’sorry, she’s a bit of’a runner” the man states in his thick accent. “No worries, I don’t mind the company” you reply supporting yourself on your elbows.

He’s attractive, black curls sitting on-top of his head, and muscular body covered in a sheer coat of sunscreen.

“Your daughter is adorable” you say as you look over at the girl playing with a book one of your friends eft behind. “Oh, not m’daughter, she’s me niece” he corrects.

You nod, as he puts his arms out for the girl but she shakes her head. She clearly didn’t want to go back, so the man asked to sit with her. You obviously allowed him to, not wanting him to go away just yet.

“I’m Trent by the way” he says, holding his hand out for you to shake. The grip he has on your hand makes your mind spin. You wonder what that grip would be like on your waist.

You introduce yourself, and conversation spark between you both. You explain how you’re on a girls trip, and he recommends some restaurants for your last night. He’s a local, born and raised, telling you what places are worth your money.

“What’s the best tourist attraction here?” you ask, head titled trying to shield the sun from your eyes. “Yer looking at it love” he says cockily.

“You got an ego to you huh” you tease and he laughs. Your gaze momentarily fixated on his lips, and he obviously notices.

Just as he was opening his mouth to respond, his niece grew fussy. Starting to cry, he quickly carried her, standing up.

Feeling bold, you state “Will I get to see the best tourist attraction before I leave?” Staring down at you he smiles, a deep profound one that showcases his beautiful teeth.

“Suppose ya can, pass me yer phone” he states, trying to act hard to get. He types his number in your phone before going off with the crying toddler.

You could feel a stupid grin creep on your face as you thought about Trent. This was a girls trip, strictly girls and no men, but you couldn’t pass up on this opportunity. You watched as your friends swam in the water, deciding to join them and tell them what just happened.

Hours later, and a cold shower with lots of body oil and aloe vera you were back in the rental. Sitting in a towel, you decide to text Trent.

8:49 pm

“Does Liverpool’s best tourist attraction accept clients after hours?”

Grinning as you wrote the cheeky message. You put the ball in his court, he could decide how this played out. Shortly after he replied

8:51 pm

“Only certain clients. Usually the ones who don’t make me wait all day for a message”

Laying flat on your back, feeling comfort in the white duvet under you. Not wanting to answer too quickly you gave it a few before responding.

8:55 pm

“Can this client apologize? Possibly in person at 10?”

There was no need to be shy, you had nothing to lose. It’s not like if he turned you down you would see him down the street.

8:58 pm

“Send the location, I’ll be there at 10. Have that apology ready darling”

With that you sent the location, quickly getting out of your towel. It was causal, but you still wanted to look presentable. You slipped on a pair of shorts and a tube top. Letting your hair air dry, you only did a subtle natural makeup look.

Before you knew it, it was 10, and time to face your friends to let them know you would be leaving. When you walked into the kitchen, it was as if they already knew.

Reminding you to keep your location on, to wear a condom and be safe. You laughed as you exited the home. You were greeted with a tinted Rolls Royce infront of the house.

Opening the door, you see Trent, causal in a white t-shirt and shorts. His car smelling like his expensive cologne. “Didn’t expect anything less from Liverpool’s finest” you joke, referring to the expensive car.

“Think ya owe me an apology, love.” he reminds you, the car still in park. “I apologize for making you wait” you blatantly say.

“It’s not big deal” he jokes, trying to see as if he didn’t care. You lightly smack his chest. The streets are still filled, regardless of the time. “ ‘M thinkin of going back to the beach” he says while at a red light. “Let’s go then” is all you say before looking back out the window admiring the street lights and houses.

The beach at night looks like a whole new world. He brings two towels from his back seat, placing them on the sand. You laid down as you watched the waves hit the sand and rocks before retreating back to their homes.

The conversation was light, jumping from topic to topic naturally. You couldn’t ignore the way he would stare at you for longer than needed while you looked at the sea.

“You usually serve as a tour guide and tourist attraction to all foreigners?” you say, deciding to push some buttons.

“Would ya believe me if I said yer the first?” he smirked.

“How can you be Liverpool’s best tourist attraction if I’m the first one to experience it?” turning to fully face him.

He looks at your eyes before switching his gaze to your lips then your hardened nipples poking through your tube top.

“Give me a review after then” he says, keeping eye contact. Leaning in, looking directly at his lips you say “Maybe I will, we’ll see if it’s five star worthy”

You pull another chuckle from him, before there’s silence besides from the waves hitting the rocks. “Can I kiss ya?” he asks sweetly.

Nodding, he cups your face pulling you in slowly. His lips feel better than you would have imagined. You move in sync, eyes fluttering shut as you grip his arm. His tongue enters your mouth and he deepens the kiss, pulling you onto him.

Laying down on him, while legs on either sides of his hips you don’t care how obscene this looks. All you care about is continuing to kiss him, and feel his hardening erection through the shorts.

Slowly moving your hips, you cup his face. “Shit, let’s go to my car” he states, hands on your hips. You both quickly grab the towels and make your way back to the car parked in an empty parking lot.

The deep tints helping in this situation. He sits in the back seat and you follow, sitting on him once again. Grinding on him you moan lightly, which makes Trent go crazy.

“Can I?” he asks, referring to your clothes and removing them. You nod, putting his hands on your body. There was no time to waste, especially when fucking in a parking lot. Your clothes are quickly disregarded and so are his.

He spits on his fingers, using it a lube of sorts. Rubbing your wet folds causing your head to be thrown back. He grabs a condom from his short’s pocket that were on the floor.

He was bigger than you’ve taken, but you were so turned on you didn’t care for the lack of prep or the stretch. He rolled the condom down skillfully.

Eagerness filled your veins, the second the condom reached the base, you aligned yourself. Slowly inching yourself down your jaw was left hanging open.

It was a delicious burn, one you’ll never forget. Trent quickly began to suck and play with your nipples, stimulating you even more. When you finally reached the bottom all you could do was grind back and forth.

Trent’s hand found their way to your ass, grabbing it and guiding you to bounce.

“Just like that baby” he moaned out when you slammed your hips down on him.

“So big Trent” you whispered, trying to keep quiet. The smell of his cologne, and his touches around your body leaving you feeling dizzy.

“Don’t get lazy on me now baby” he groaned out, encouraging you to continue to bounce. He was out of luck, your legs already shaking.

“C-can’t, please” you cried out. Placing his feet hard onto the floor of his expensive vehicle, he wrapped his hands around your waist, pulling you to his chest while he thrusted up.

“Can’t even ride me properly. It’s okay baby, I’ll give ya a proper fuck” he says in your ear.

His hips hitting yours at a pace you’ve never had before. “Keep clamping down on me and ‘m gonna cum” he says through gritted teeth. But truth be told, you were already on the edge.

He was reached spots no one has before. The coil in your stomach begging to unravel, and it did once he began sucking on your neck. You were certain there’d be marks when you finished.

Gripping him in a way no one has you convulsed, creaming all over him. With one final stroke, completely bottoming he released into the condom.

It was a one night stand, a fun night on your girls trip. At least that’s what you expected. But Trent had other plans, texting you while you boarded your plane. Liverpool’s finest begging to still talk to you while thousands of miles away. He should’ve known you don’t revisit tourist attractions you’ve already seen.

hello dolls!! I hope you enjoyed this fic. this was voted for the fic to be released! thank you for voting. I wanted to switch the roles and make the woman the one enforcing the “one night only” stance.

also I just wanted to touch on 2 things:

1. I am not from England, so if I used a city that is in fact not touristy, you know why now LMAO. I also hope I described Liverpool correctly, and did it justice. google can only help so much

2. I know there is a lot regarding Trent in the media right now. this is not the place to drag someone or gossip, but I will say I did not want to punish myself by not publishing this work that I spent a lot of time on. Although he is not going to be continuing to play in Liverpool, for this fic’s sake, he is.

[angelthefatal]

Why did I actually tear up reading this..........

*sniffs* It's beautiful......

You made me cry over some dead animal I haven't even seen with my own naked eyes.....

You made me feel really aware of life....

#Ifeelsoblessedandoverwhelmedrightnow...

[image id: a four-page comic. it is titled “immortality” after the poem by clare harner (more popularly known as “do not stand at my grave and weep”). the first page shows paleontologists digging up fossils at a dig. it reads, “do not stand at my grave and weep. i am not there. i do not sleep.” page two features several prehistoric creatures living in the wild. not featured but notable, each have modern descendants: horses, cetaceans, horsetail plants, and crocodilians. it reads, “i am a thousand winds that blow. i am the diamond glints on snow. i am the sunlight on ripened grain. i am the gentle autumn rain.” the third page shows archaeopteryx in the treetops and the skies, then a modern museum-goer reading the placard on a fossil display. it reads, “when you awaken in the morning’s hush, i am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight. i am the soft stars that shine at night. do not stand at my grave and cry.” the fourth page shows a chicken in a field. it reads, “i am not there. i did not die” / end id]

a comic i made in about 15 hours for my school’s comic anthology. the theme was “evolution”

[classyrbf]

you find it so funny how people think your husband, nanami, is the sweetest, most innocent and romantic man they’ve ever laid eyes on, such a gentleman. Which, they are correct in some ways. Gentleman. Check. Sweet. Check. Romantic. Check. He’s always buying you flowers, opening doors for you, kissing your hand, taking you out on spontaneous dates, calling you ‘sweetheart’, ‘honey’, ‘love’, and treating you like some porcelain doll. But innocent? Oh no, no. You almost laugh because it may seem like your husband is ‘innocent’ or ‘vanilla’ whichever term they may use, but he is anything but that. While he may treat you like a princess in public, he absolutely sluts you out behind closed doors.

You don’t blame people for thinking he may look and act soft because that was your first impression of him too. So, imagine the surprise when you first had sex and he was pounding you in a mating press, tears streaming down your face. Yeah, best night of your life. And now that you’re married? God, it makes the sex one hundreds times better than before. He’s go you on your side, one arm hooked under your leg, reaching so far that he’s able to wrap his hand around your throat. The other wrapped around your waist, rubbing your clit while he fucks his cum into you. He’s forcing you to look him in the eyes, faces inches away from each other, because he wants to watch your pretty face when you cum. So innocent, right?

“Oh my god! Fuck!” You cry out, your breathing labored. He’s so deep inside of you, the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot over and over again to the point it makes your head spin especially when he’s toying with your swollen clit. “I can’t! I can’t, Ken! You’re too fucking deep! Ah!” You grip onto the ruffled sheets below, bucking your hips as you attempt to make his cock not feel so good, but the bruising grip he has on your throat and waist puts you right back in your place.

“You can take it, sweetheart. I know you can. You know why?” He pulls you in closer, pressing his lips to your ear. “Cause you’re a fucking slut for this dick.” He thrusts his hips faster, skin slapping against skin and the mixture of your juices and his cum create a sticky mess between your thighs. “Awe, is that gonna make you cum? Being degraded? I can feel your pussy clenching me,” he darkly smiled, heavy breaths fanning against your damp skin. He rubbed your clit faster, carefully watching the way you threw your head back in pure bliss.

“Fuckkkk! You’re gonna make me cum again!” Your toes curled the closer you got to your orgasm, whimpering as you took in every feeling of pleasure coursing through you.

“Squirt all over this dick, baby. Be a good girl for me and show me how good I make you feel.” He felt your walls tightening with each passing second, sweat trailing down his forehead as he kept his pace. Your legs began to shake as you writhed under him, cursing and screaming as you squirted all over, soaking the blankets below you. “Messy fucking slut. Look at you, you’re still fucking going.”

“Oh my god! Yes, yes, yes!” Your brows furrowed as you watched him fuck you through your orgasm. “It’s too much, Ken!” You pulled his hand away from your clit, holding onto his wrist tightly while he slowed down his thrusts, now going deep and slow. You laid there in a dazed state, trying to catch your breath. His hand gently caressed your stomach slowly inching up towards your tits, cupping them in his hand while he placed sloppy kisses down your neck and to your collarbone.

So yes, while your husband may be such a gentleman, such a sweetheart, such an angel to others, in the back of your head, you think of those moments behind closed doors when he makes you cum your brains out, praising you and degrading you all within the same breath, choking you and treating you like some common whore. But after all that’s over, he’s back to treating you like the most delicate thing he’s ever touched. It’s truly the best of both worlds.

[eupheme]

— sugar, sugar

[part ii] | [part iii] | [masterlist]

wolverine/logan howlett x neighbor!f!reader

rated e - 6.5k

tags: asshole friend!wade, (sorta soft) roommate!logan, baker!neighbor!reader, flirting, mutual yearning, immature humor, a reference to while you were sleeping, wingman!wade and the worse way to meet someone, light angst, oral sex, swallowing, fingering, v. light ass play, unprotected PiV, appearance of The Claws, what’s a refractory period, sorta audible voyeurism (brief/humorous)

a/n: includes spoilers for deadpool & wolverine (which omg I loved - what was your fave cameo?)

Your eccentric neighbor Wade may drive you a little up the wall… but, you’re willing to put up with him if it means he’ll introduce you to his new, grumpy-looking roommate.

“You gonna introduce me?”

You’ve cornered Wade in the apartment’s laundry room - the door to the front-loading washer hanging open as he holds a bundle of red fabric up to his chest.

“You think this will wash out?” 

The suit in question looks like it had been run over by a truck and then set on fire, with the rips criss-crossed in the leather and the numerous charred holes scattered across the chest.

“Definitely.” Your eyes flicker down, and then back up, “So, will you?”

He bundles the suit up - flinging into the back of the washer, the laundry basket still tucked under an arm.

“Really? Not even ‘hello, Wade’? ‘Looking good, Wade’?” His voice pitches up, imitating yours, “Does our friendship really mean nothing to you?”

You wouldn’t necessarily call Wade Wilson a friend.

In fact, he’s honestly the worst neighbor you’ve ever had. 

Loud, obnoxious. Persuasive - the first night you met you had been banging on his door at three in the morning, yelling at him to shut up as music and a caterwauling voice blared through the shared wall.

Ten minutes later you were playing the drums on his late night session of Rock Band, using a banana and a wooden spoon in place of sticks. Only for Althea to stomp out of her room and shut everything down, scaring both of you out of your skins.  

But sometimes, you think - remembering the times he came through for you, a shoulder to cry on, helping him this slump he’s been digging himself out of - he might just be the best, as well.

And maybe that was friendship, after all. 

You sigh, leaning against the row of washers. Eyes flicking over him, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“You do look good, Wade,” There’s a tilt of your head, the smile widening, “Glad you lost the toupee, that really wasn’t your color.”

“Ah, ah. Repurposed,” He chides, cupping his crotch, “You wouldn’t believe how much I’ve missed-”

“Ew, stop.” Your face scrunches, a hand covering your eyes as you shield your vision, “Will you please just answer my question?”

He throws a handful of shirts in the washer, “Which was...?”

Your head shakes - a hand on his arm as you reach for a glint of gold in the pile of clothes. Cringing as a handgun appears, held gingerly between thumb and forefinger as you set it on the side table.

“Good call,” He nods, “Dry clean only.”

You can't help a laugh then, even as your hands brace on your hips, “I want to meet your roommate.”

He frowns, “You’ve met Blind Al.”

“Jesus, Wade. Not Al." A hand waves, " I mean Mister Tall, Dark, and Brooding.”

You’ve seen the stranger in the hallways a few times in the month since he’s moved in. Scruffy and scowling the first time, a silent shadow behind Wade’s endless chatter. 

But in the weeks following, that look had softened. You’d stopped by twice with cookies to welcome him, but every time you’ve just gotten Al.

Not that you dislike Al, that’s not it at all. She’s sweet enough to you when it’s not 3 a.m. or if Wade doesn’t have her annoyed half to death.

But you certainly weren’t harboring a crush on her. Maybe even secretly hoping that maybe the new neighbor will get a little lost and end up at your door, instead of his new place.  

“Ooh,” The syllables draw out - detergent flung in, before he’s leaning against the washer too, facing you. “Yeah, Logan. He's great, got a mean ‘Hugh Jackman’ vibe, just without the singing. You’d like him.”

Something like hope flutters in your belly, but then he’s raising a finger - wiggling it at you, “Just one question though. What’s in it for me?”

That has you scowling, “What do you mean? You owe me. I covered for you when you had that barqueue in the stairwell.”

“God, that was great sausage.” Wade groans, thinking back, “Mmm, but I think Peter covered for me.”

“Who do you think got Peter?”

“Well, I don’t remember seeing you.” He shrugs.

“I was right-,” You pinch the bridge of your nose between thumb and forefinger, a sharp exhale of breath, “Fine. If you do this for me, I’ll do that thing you keep asking me to do.”

Wade gasps gleefully, “You mean you’ll make the triple decker-”

“-chocolate caramel cheesecake chimichangas. Yes.” You finish with him, arms crossing over your chest, “You’re lucky you heal fast because that should put you right into a food coma.”

“Right. Lucky me,” He smirks. A second as he thinks, before he snaps his fingers, “I’m having a little get-together tonight! You should come. Was gonna invite you anyway.”

The pounding in your head ratchets up at the thought that all this could’ve been avoided.

“Logan sleeps on the couch, though,” He adds, sagely, “So just letting you know that if the two of you decide to get your fuck on in my bed, according to the state of New York I am legally allowed to join you.”

“Thanks for the warning,” You grimace - even if you’re certain that cannot possibly be true, “But I do have my own apartment.”

“Oh, right.” There’s the faintest edge of disappointment in his tone, paired with a sigh.

You give him a sideways look, then.

“I saw Vanessa leaving yesterday. Things getting better?”

He sobers at that, eyes moving towards the sliver of a window. The glimpse of the street outside.

“Yeah.” Wade manages, “Yeah, I think so.”

There had once been a flicker of something. In-between your annoyance and exasperation, there were tendrils of tenderness. Long snuffed out, when you had seen just how banged up his heart was. How it’s always belonged to another. 

You had gotten over it. Gotten to a place where seeing him now, like this, makes you smile.

“I’m really glad to hear that.” 

He smiles, then.

“Thanks. Me too.”

“Hey, hold on.” Wade darts in front of his roommate, a leg kicked up high to block the doorway, “Where are you going? You can’t go out.”

Logan scowls, an arm already shoved into his leather jacket, “Sure I can.”

The blow against his shoulder might move a lesser man, but Wade’s fingers just grip the frame even tighter, “But I promised-, I got a friend that wants to meet you. There is some really important shit at stake here. I can’t let you go.”

An eyebrow cocks, “Can’t? I think we both know how that would go if you tried to stop me.”

It would be easy to get into this right here and now, but his suit is still in the dryer and he’s not about to spend another hour cleaning up blood.

“Wait, wait, wait,” He throws a hand up, “Aren’t you listening to me? A girl wants to meet you. She’s hot, she has a job, and she has an apartment. You’re only one outta three there. Can’t you see what a good opportunity this is? This is totally in your favor!”

Logan scoffs, his tongue tucking against his teeth. Hesitating for just a second, but it's enough that Wade knows he’s got him.

“I’ve met your friends,” He eventually acknowledges, “They’re good folk and all, but there isn’t anyone there I’d like to ‘get to know better’, yeah?”

“You haven’t met this one. She lives next door.”

The pause stretches longer this time. Dark eyes dart out into the hallway, and Wade can practically hear those rusted gears turning.

“Apartment 16 or 18?” Logan finally rasps, his arms crossing. 

Oh, he’s definitely got him. Just call him Wade Wilson, New York’s own personal Cupid. New life goal - get his friends laid. 

He nocks a mental arrow - aiming, and then firing with his answer. 

“18.” 

Another beat passes, and then a sigh. 

“Alright.” The leather sleeve slips from his arm, drooping in his fist.

“Five minutes. That’s all I’m staying.”

Wade’s fist pumps. 

Bullseye, motherfucker. 

The apartment is packed and it’s been well past the allotted five minutes. Logan’s been nursing a beer for the last fifteen, eyes flicking over the people he’s grown to know well.

Offering a tight, half-smile when the big man claps him on the back, followed by Opposites Attract. Almost tempted to find that damn dog, just to have something to do. 

Or maybe, just bail all-together.

Starting to think this was all an elaborate prank. Some fucked up aspect of this Earth, unknown to him until now.

He’s too old for this shit. If he heads for the bedroom now, he might make it out the fire escape before anyone notices.

Logan is still entertaining this new thread of thought until he hears his name - called out over whatever fuck-face bullshit boy-band music Wade’s been playing. 

Ambiance, his ass.

The muscles of his crossed arms flex. Catching the way his roommate hauls a girl across the floor - the look of panic on her face as she tosses a container onto the nearest surface.

Wade hadn’t been lying, after all. It was Apartment 18 - that was about as much as he knew about you.

Other than the color of your eyes. The smell of your perfume in the hall. Your hair, your schedule - waking in the mornings to hear your door opening at 5 a.m., five days a week.

A baker. A damn good one, from the bits of cookie he’s snuck when no one was home. 

Had never thought to introduce himself, because he’s been through all this before. Knows better than to reach out in the first place - still nursing the old wound of heartache, one that still flares to life in his chest.

Better not to hope, or even think, at all. 

You stumble when he lets go, and Logan’s hands only curl tighter. Afraid to touch, now that you’re so close. 

A pretty young thing compared to him. This was a fucking stupid idea, his eyes darting away as Wade claps, his hands spreading wide. 

“Logan,” Wade’s tone is cordial, as if discussing the weather, “This is our neighbor, Sugar. She bakes a mean penis cake and likes emotionally unavailable men.”

A dejected sigh as he regards you, “Which is why it’s never worked out between us. I am just too available.”

Penis cake?

Logan shoots you a sideways look, an eyebrow cocked. Caught off guard by this unexpected intro, and it seems you are the same - gauging by the way your mouth drops open. 

Your face swimming with regret, as you hiss, “Oh my god. Wade. It was one time. Why do you have to put it like that?”

Wade’s smile widens, his tone still innocent, “Just skipping over the ‘getting-to-know-you’s, so you can know if you’re compatible.”

Already pivoting to face Logan with a little wink, his own scowl already deepening. Something like nerves flickering to life - as he wonders if this will all be over before it ever begins.

“And this is Logan. He’s from another Earth, is two-hundred years old, and has a metal dong.”

Jesus Christ. 

Logan’s teeth grit, before he snarls, “It’s not made of metal-”

Out of the corner of his eye, catches the curious dip of your gaze. Past the folded twist of his arms, the flannel, down to his thick belt buckle.

A knock rings out then, interrupting him from any further clarification.

“Ooh! Door,” Wade thumbs over his shoulder, “Go on now, we’ve got some good energy going here. Sugar and spice, I love it.”

A spin on his heel, and he’s leaving them alone. Silence a lingering companion for a long moment, before Logan turns.

“Nice to meet you.” He seethes, jaw working as he shoots daggers at Wade’s back. A hand extended - he’d manage that much at least.

Waiting for you to make an excuse and run, but all you do is fit your hand into his. Soft and strong and a near perfect fit.

Logan doesn’t touch people much anymore unless it’s a hand around a throat, or claws buried deep into a chest. Had almost forgotten what it was like, even if this meeting is close to his own personal version of hell.

“Nice to finally meet you, too.” Your smile is wry. Hands still clasped a moment longer, until he’s withdrawing. 

Your hands shove into your back pockets. The tilt of a head as you regard him, and he lets his eyes meet yours. 

They’re pretty, like the rest of you. Captivating even, if he could use such a word, and Wade’s words ring out in his head. 

She wants to meet you.

He’s wondering if that’s still true. Maybe you’re wondering the same, with the way you look at him. 

“So,” You begin, awkwardly - another unconscious flick of your eyes,“How does-”

“Uh-uh.” Logan’s head shakes. He’s picked up a couple things living with Wade. Never used to be a bargaining man, but he has to admit it has its uses. 

“If you wanna know, you gotta go first.” 

He hates you.

He must, with the way he’s scowling. Thighs spread wide as he sits on the couch you had gestured to, fingers in a vice grip around the bottle. No doubt plotting a dozen ways to ditch you the second he can.

Who wouldn’t, with a meeting like this? You could kill Wade, cheeks burning as you sink into the worn cushions next to him.

That is, until your knee knocks against his. The muscles in his thigh flexing - but Logan lets it rest, instead of pulling away. 

“You gonna-?” His voice is gruff, a low rasp that makes goosebumps raise across your skin. 

“Uh, sure.” Your fingers twist, “Which part did you want to hear about?”

His eyebrows lift. Those dark eyes beneath, almost a hint of amusement in them.

“Right,” The little laugh that bubbles from you is self-conscious, “Well, I don’t really like emotionally unavailable men, they just have a habit of finding me.”

His voice is low, “How would Wade know that?”

“Mm, how would he know about your-?” Your eyes flicker down for the third time, and he shifts. 

“You first.”

“Alright.” You huff, but you’re smiling now. Some of your discomfort easing. 

Logan is even more handsome than you had thought. You like the way his eyes dart away, only to come back and linger. 

It’s starting to make you think that maybe it’s not dislike that has so much of him hidden away. Maybe it’s just been a long time since someone tried to peel any of him back. 

Maybe he’s as nervous as you are.

“Well, he’s had to scare an ex or two away.” You shrug, “He only knows because I told him. And the cake, oh-, that was him, too.”

You turn then, to face him. A shoulder brushing the arm he has thrown across the back of the couch, a flicker in his eyes as you get comfortable beside him.

“Well, Wade had gotten ripped in half a couple years ago,” You nose wrinkles, a wave of your hand, “And it all like, has to grow back, right? It’s so creepy.”

Logan grimaces at your explanation, and you wonder if he understands. You think he must - you had thought he was like Wade, in some ways. 

Different. Special.

“Well, he uh, finished growing everything in,” You make a sweeping gesture over your lower half, “And the next year to celebrate his dickiversary, he ordered a penis cake from my shop.”

“His… dickiversary.” Logan repeats slowly.

The heat is back in your cheeks, but you nod, “Yeah, because it like, it came back and all. And he paid in cash, I couldn’t say no.”

There’s the smallest twitch of Logan’s lips, and it feels like a victory.

“Right. What flavor was it?”

Your smile widens with relief, “Strawberries and cream. It was so good. I’ll have to make it for you sometime.”

A second before you cringe, adding, “I mean, a normal one. Not…”

He hums then, close to a laugh.  

“Sure. You do that.”

You smile, letting your shoulder bump his, “And with that… I think it’s your turn.”

The bit of humor in his expression flattens. A searching look thrown your way, before he inhales a breath.

Setting it free. 

“I’m a mutant.”

Logan waits there, as if expecting something. You only nod, thinking of the ones you know. Colossus, Ellie, Yukio, Domino. Wade. 

“Wade said you were similar to him. I had assumed-” You encourage, waiting.

“Right,” He seems relieved, some of the tension ebbing, “My powers are regenerative, like his. But unlike him, I have these-”

There’s the jerk of his wrist, and three sharp metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. Your gasp is caught in your throat as you cling to his flannel shirt - the surprise bleeding into worry. 

They glint in the light, as his fingers flex. 

“Adamantium instead of bones. All of me is like this.”

The claws sheath themselves inside him again. His wounds smoothing over seconds later, as he scrubs his knuckles across his jeans, wiping away blood. 

Offering out his hand, after. Letting your grip unwind from his shirt, and press against his skin instead. Feeling the tendons in his hand, his wrist. The skeleton beneath utterly unyielding, a weight to his limb that is so unlike your own.

“Metal…” You trail off, as pieces click into place, “I get it now. So does Wade really think there’s like, an actual bone-?”

Logan huffs again, “Guess so.”

You laugh then. A thought sobering you after, as a fingertip drifts up to the dip between his fingers. 

“But doesn’t that hurt?” 

It makes you wince to even think about it. Much less how casually they sprung from him, no different than breathing. 

He shrugs, and it’s heartbreaking.

“Doesn’t even phase me anymore.”

“And, the two hundred years,” Another facet you put together out loud, “You’re still alive because you keep healing? Will it be that way forever?”

His hand flexes in your grip.

“Not forever. Apparently my powers will run out, at some point.” His eyes meet yours, “The Logan in this world is dead. Wade pulled me from another.”

Your brow furrows - always trying to keep up with the snippets that Wade has told you across the years - stories about time-traveling and mutants and even how he came to be. But this seems too deep. Surely Logan must be joking.

“Another world, huh?” You ask, head tilting - trying your best to roll with it, “Won’t they miss you in yours?”

Only now does his face falter. That sharp mask cracking, as his hand pulls from yours. Resting again on the back edge of the couch - his answer low and rough. 

“No. I don’t think so.”

Another jolt racks through your heart. You don’t know him know him yet, but you already can’t believe that could possibly be true. Your fingers fan out, hovering - before it folds into a fist.

“Well then, I’m glad you’re here.”

He doesn’t reply. 

The room is darker now, dim with the setting of the sun. Street lights outside pouring in a golden beam that cuts across his face. 

His eyes are hazel, you can see that now. A fading rim of green spilling into the brown, beneath the near-permanent furrow of his eyebrows. 

Yours caught in the glow of the flamingo string lights that curl out from the kitchen, stapled to the walls.

He breaks the silence, the words coming slowly. 

“Let me ask you one more thing.” 

“Sure. You know some of my worst secrets already.” You smile, a shoulder lifting.

His hand twitches, where it rests near your shoulder. The tip of a finger ghosting against skin.

Just the slightest brush but it feels like it radiates out, lingering after.

“Why’d you tell Wade you wanted to meet me?” 

His voice is still low, rough. But it’s lost that sharp edge. The combination has your stomach tied up in knots, suddenly more nervous that you’ve been the whole night.

Surely he must know? 

“Well…” You hedge. It’s your turn to look away, but then there’s the brush of his fingers again.

“Because I did want to meet you.” You admit, “You, you seemed like someone I wanted to get to know. In whatever capacity you’d like.”

“Is that right, Sugar?” Logan husks, and the nickname sounds even sweeter on his tongue, stealing your breath.

All you can do is nod, as his eyes darken. 

Voices rise behind you, ripping you out of this little bubble you’ve found yourself in. Nearly forgetting just how many people are here, how many eyes have been glancing your way since you’ve arrived.

“Not strip poker Wade, please.” The rough rumbling plea of Colossus’s voice rings out above the others, “You never wear anything under the suit-”

You didn’t even realize when he had changed, but he had - patches of bare skin on his ass showing through the holes. Your nose scrunches, before you turn back to realize that Logan’s eyes are still on you.

Dropping when your tongue peeks out to wet your lips - your words coming out in a soft hush. 

“You want to get out of here?”

You want him. You can only hope that he might just want you, too.

The corner of his lip twitches.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

It’s strange to have someone like Logan in your space. You can remember the last time you’ve wanted someone here.

His fingers still entwined with yours, from where you had reached back for him. Leading him through the dim corners of the room.

Thinking you had made it, only for the rousing cheers to rise when you had cracked the door open to slip through.

His grip tightening when you made to tug your hand free, in an urge to press it against burning cheeks. Letting you fumble with one hand, to open the lock next door.

It’s quieter here. A low echo of the music next door, as the darkness wraps around you again.

Here, his fingers move, but it’s only to skim up your wrist. To tug you between him and the front door, until your back presses against it. 

His nose brushes yours as he steps into your space, your lips already parting. Holding himself there for a moment, inhaling the scent of you as his arm braces above your head.

Leaving you to be the one that closes the gap. The tilt of your head and the press of your lips against his.

A rough hum when your arms wrap around his neck, fingers buried in his hair. His hand gripping at your waist, pulling your hips against his.

Tugging and pushing. A messy path from the front door through the small living room - a mirror-image of the apartment next door.

Through to the bedroom, wandering hands and the brush of his tongue against yours as he deepens the needy kiss. Until his knees are hitting the edge of your bed, and he’s letting you nudge him back onto the mattress.

He brings you with him - your hips cradling his as you settle yourself astride him. Hands flatten against his chest as you rock down - drawing a rough, mumbled “fuck”.

Grinding yourself down where he’s hard, the curve of his cock straining against his jeans. Letting your hands follow, as his own cup your ass. Squeezing, before slipping to press the heel of his hand against the seam at your clit.

You moan into his mouth, as your fingers curl around him. Eyes blown wide when you pull back, scooting your hips down. 

It’s here that he comes back to himself. 

Going tense as you fit yourself between his thighs, fingers at this belt as the other still cups him.

“You shouldn’t want this.” He rasps, those eyes glinting in the dark, “A man like me. You know that, right?”

Propping himself up on an elbow, so he can see your expression. So you can see the way his jaw grits, nostrils flaring. 

It’s a warning, wrapped up in silk. A last ditch effort to scare you away - knowing that once he has you, he won’t want to stop.

Your fingers slow - his zipper half-undone, baring skin and a dark shadow of hair beneath. 

The other pulling away, “You want me to stop?” 

He catches your wrist, jerking your hand back. His hips bucking into your palm, grinding himself into your touch. 

“The last thing I want to fucking do is stop.” It’s almost a growl, “But on my Earth, I-”

You sigh then, impatient, “Logan, this Earth isn’t all that great either. I lost five years of my life to the blip.”

He frowns, not understanding - but your head shakes as you continue, “I’m tired of being too scared to take chances. I’ve been trying to live each day to the fullest, and I’d like to end this one with you.”

And out of everyone - Logan knows a little something about second chances.

“Yeah,” He manages - the grip of his fist leaves you, “Yeah, okay.”

"Thank you,” You answer primly, just as you finish yanking the zipper down. 

His hand beats you in the race to ease himself out, fingers curling around the base. You can’t help it - you inhale a breath at the sight of him.

Heavy, with the way the flushed tip bobs in his grip. Thick enough that you’re already wondering if you’re going to be able to take him. 

The huff he makes turns into a groan as you start small - engulfing the leaking head with your lips. The first inch turns into another as his hips lift, feeding his cock into your waiting mouth. 

Only when he’s halfway inside you, bumping against your throat, does his hand drop. Letting you replace it with your own - squeezing, as drool slicks up his shaft. Your head bobbing in time with the twist of your fist.

That brief hesitance is quickly forgotten. Fingers brush at your cheek, curling around the base of your head as he guides you.

Leaving you eager for more. Another hissed groan when your mouth leaves him, your hand loosening as you strip your clothes away.

“Oh fuck yes,” He coaxes, when he realizes what you’re doing, “Let me see you, baby.” 

Your shirt and pants left to pool on the floor. A second of boldness as you unclasp your bra next, leaving you in your panties as you focus on his cock again. 

A bitten-back moan when your tongue slips across his swollen shaft - an low throb between your thighs as you rub them together, clenching around nothing. Resisting the urge to slip your hand beneath the hem to ease the ache. 

Instead, your keep your hands on him. Goosebumps raising as your nails scratch against the deep v of muscle at his hips. The others working him into your mouth, as he slowly comes more undone. 

His hips flex with each bob of your head, lips parted as he pants. The words a rough mumble, becoming almost desperate. 

“That’s it sweetheart.”

Another moan when you take him deep, hollowing your cheeks as you suck, “Oh fuck, gonna fill that pretty mouth.”

His hand cups your jaw, holding you steady as he bucks into your mouth. Those dark eyes fixed on you in wonder, all that pretty skin bared for him to touch, to taste. He’s mesmerizing like this - the weight of gaze. Jaw slack with pleasure, eyes aflame.

You did this to him. 

It sends something warm flooding through you, as his eyelashes flutter. The tipping back of his head, muscles ticking in his cheek as his teeth ground down. 

A sound still slips between them, as he floods your mouth with the next flex of his hips. Pulsing between your lips as you swallow him down, a choked sound ripping from his chest when you cup his sack to gently squeeze out every last drop. 

Logan melts into the mattress after, an arm thrown over his eyes as he catches his breath. His gaze focusing on you when he feels you squirm - dark, and hungry.

A lithe stretch of muscles as he moves - legs easing from beneath you. 

“Hands and knees,” He commands, head tipping towards the bed next to him, as he rolls off. Kicking off his jeans as you listen, watching over a shoulder as the flannel and white tank underneath joins your clothes on the floor.

Your eyes widen at how toned he is - muscles rippling, the bed dipping as he fits himself behind you.

His broad hand at the small of your back, pushing your torso down against the mattress. A pleased hum then, fingers trailing just along the elastic edge of your underwear.

“Could smell how much she needed this.” The tips of two press against the damp fabric between your thighs, making you gasp, “Even next door. You want it that bad?”

It should be embarrassing that he could tell how much you desired him, but at the moment all you can think about is him touching you more.

“Yes,” You agree, “Please, Logan.”

“So fuckin’ polite,” The fingers withdraw; but only so his nose can replace them. A ragged inhale, just before his tongue drags against your clothed slit.

A groan against your skin as you cry out, before a finger hooks around the fabric, baring you for him to taste.

The heat of his tongue flattens against you - lapping at where you drip with need, a rough rumble in his chest. 

“Sweet, too.” Another flick of his tongue, “Your name. ‘s fitting.”

You can’t manage words. Only his name, muffled against the sheets as your fists twist in them. Back arched as you resist the urge to grind yourself against his tongue, as it flicks against your clit.

It’s messy, how he eats you. You don’t think you’ve even had someone take you like this. Hungry, desperate even, as he devours you. The rumble of a groan against your cunt as his tongue delves inside you, stretching you open. Letting your slick smear into his beard, with how close he presses his mouth.

That need inside you thrumming. Winding tighter as he yanks your panties down your thighs. His palm flattening against your ass, holding you open as he licks you from clit to hole, then higher. Humming as you squeak, when his tongue flattens against your tight rim. 

A thick finger nudging against you then, as his tongue dips back to your clit. There’s no resistance as it slips deeper, into slick walls that clamp down around him.  It’s what you needed - that little bit more.

Unable to help rocking into the crook of his finger now. Whining when a second joins it, spearing deep and curling. Dragging against your walls, loud and wet and filthy with each plunge. 

Your whimpers only grow louder. Needier, as his lips wrap around your clit. Fingers pounding deep, stretching you out. Leaving you babbling, your words slipping together. 

“Don’t fucking stop.” Tears prick at your eyes, each breath a rattling gasp, “Oh my god you’re gonna make me come-”

He has you gushing, with the next flick of his tongue. A pleased groan as he feels your pussy tighten around his fingers, hearing the wail that is muffled into your pillows. That sharp pace slowing, his thumb replacing his tongue to draw your orgasm out until your legs are shaking. 

His fingers sticky when they pull from you, only to slip between his lips - tongue curling around his knuckles, sucking them clean.

It leaves you floating above yourself. You can’t remember ever coming this hard, even by yourself. Only the tintest thread of disappointment as you drift, and it’s only that you won’t get the pleasure of his cock filling you tonight.

You would’ve liked to see what he can do with the rest of him. 

Perhaps you can convince him to stay until morning.

But he moves behind you, instead. His knee pressing against yours, spreading your legs further. The rhythmic shuffle of skin against skin, as his hand slips from between his lips to fist around his cock. 

“Tell me I can fuck you.” It’s not a plea, not with the harsh rasp of his voice. But it’s as close as you’ve heard, as he swipes the tip against your leaking pussy.

Smearing your slick on him, teasing at your waiting hole.

You don’t know how he’s hard again, but at the moment you really don’t care. Not sure if you’ve ever felt a need like this, your back arching further as you present yourself to him. 

A twist of your neck, so your eyes can meet his. 

“Fuck me, Logan.” 

He groans, broad hands squeezing at your ass. Slipping up to sink his fingers into the flesh at your hips. Holding you steady as he lines himself up. 

Your breath held, when you feel his cock start to breach you - muscles stringing tight.

“Relax, sweetheart,” He grits out, though not unkindly, “You can take it.”

Trying to hold himself back from filling you with a single thrust, with the way you’re already gripping him.

Easing himself into your heat. Two inches forward and then one back, and with each one you think you’ll feel the press of his thighs against yours. A low whine as your cunt makes room for him, that sharp stretch as it feels like he’s reaching into your belly.

Feeling full when he finally is flush, the weight of his sack kissing against your clit. His shoulders following the curve of your back, as a hand slips up to plant next to your head.

“Feels fucking incredible,” It’s mumbled against your skin, almost as if it hadn’t meant to say it. 

“Mm,” You grin, your face tipping up to his, “Should’ve met you weeks ago.”

He smirks, a low sound in his throat as his mouth presses to yours. Starting a slow rhythm that drags his cock against your walls. Slipping until he’s halfway out, only to sheath himself again. Pushing the air from your lungs as he flattens himself, knees digging into the bed as your thigh spread wider - forcing him deeper.

It’s almost too much. 

You hand shoots out, reaching. Wrapping around his wrist, nails biting against his skin. 

It feels like he’s surrounding you. Each thrust a heavy weight that presses you into the bed. Splitting you open, until all you can do is squirm beneath him.

That pressure in your belly building again, as his hips pound. His breath, hot and panting in your ear as he chases his own end.

“Fuck, Logan.” You sob, “Harder-”

His tendons flex under your grip. Knuckles pressing flat against the sheets as he makes a rough sound in his throat. 

Those claws unsheathing with his next thrust. Punching down into your mattress. Anchoring as he loses himself to the feel of you beneath him.

How tight and wet and warm you are, your arousal still sweet on his tongue. Fighting the urge to sink his teeth into your throat, as everything tightens up inside him.

“Sweetheart.” It’s a warning, rasped out. 

“Come in me,” You whine, “Wanna feel you.”

He does growl then, at the thought of filling you to the brim, until he's leaking out of your pretty little pussy. Hips snapping faster, pinning you to the bed as he ruts into you. Each squeak of the bed paired with the sharp rip of fabric as his claws dig in. 

Feeling how your body strings tight beneath him, how you clench down in anticipation. Wanting to feel you once more, before he gives in to his own desires.

“Come on, baby,” It’s hushed, murmured against your skin, “Fuckin’ give it to me-”

The sharp point of a canine scraping against your skin, his groan rough and throaty in your ear. 

Your fingers work down to wedge themselves between your thighs. The tips brushing where you’re speared open, before circling your clit like his tongue had.

He has you mindless. Fucked out - that soft glow from your earlier orgasm shining bright as he tips you towards a second.

Burning at that tightly wound thread inside you, until the ends fray, and then snap. 

It has you coming with his next thrust. A wail ripped from you as he buries himself deep, feeling the way your pussy clenches down around him. 

Fingers still swirling, drawing out the deep pulses that fan out from your core as your toes curl, vision going hazy.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” He rasps, those sharp thrust slowing to a sloppy grind, “Make a fucking mess for me, there you go-”

Panting, as he groans. Another roll of his hips before he’s coming with you - teeth bruising skin as they sink into your shoulder. The sound he makes is broken as he spills into you, muscles clenching with each pulse that paints your walls.  

Marking you thoroughly with teeth and come, the saw of his hips slowing until you both finally go still. A breath finally caught. 

Blissed out, when he rolls you both to the side. His thighs still mapping yours, cock still notched deep. A thick arm thrown across your waist, his breath ragged in your ear as he catches his breath.

Your fingers drift, as you bask in your afterglow. Dipping into the rips in your mattress, knuckle deep.

There’s a grunt as you wiggle, the words low in your ear, “I’ll get you another, sweetheart. Just lost control for a moment.”

The thought doesn’t bother you as much as you’d think. In fact, you wouldn’t mind if happened again.

Only as your imagination runs wild, do you hear the muffled moan from the brick wall behind you.

“Fuck, that’s good.”

Dramatic and drawn out, paired with faint rhythmic noise. 

A beat - before you hear mumbled protesting. The voice of someone talking with their mouth full, “No. Back the fuck off Peter, I’m not going to share.” 

Eating. The fucker was eating his end of the bargain, ear pressed to the wall.

The next louder, “Alright, pay up everyone, Operation ‘Get Sugar Some Sugar’ was a success!”

You grimace, eyes rolling. Logan grunts behind you, the words mumbled out sleepily.

“Wish I could sew that goddamn mouth shut.”

There’s a faint “they already tried that!” before Logan’s fist bangs on the wall, shutting him up.

But you can’t help the smile. Your fingers fitting between the ones that rest just below your breasts, squeezing.

“He’s not so bad,” You admit, “Wade, I mean.”

Logan groans, “Don’t say his name while I’m fucking you.”

“You’re-” You start - but then you can feel him.

Still hard - as his hips cant slowly against yours. Your joined hands slip up to cup a breast - as his lips press against your neck, stubble scraping you skin.

“Again?” You breathe, disbelieving that he’d be up for a third time - your hips rocking back to meet his. The sound lewd with how he drips from you - but it only has him grinding himself deeper, “You sure you’re two hundred?”

“Regenerative powers, sweetheart.” Logan husks, the flash of teeth with a knowing smirk.

“Can’t say it doesn’t come with perks.”

I used to have the biggest fucking crush on wolverine, haha - so fun to watch a new movie with him!! 👀💕 thank you so much for reading! And please me know if you'd like to read any more for him! (like more one-shots,etc!)