#i love you all and wish to kiss your foreheads

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐑𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐫𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ENTJ

Gryffindor

Neutral Good

Capricorn Sun, Virgo Moon, Aquarius Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・Your main concern, out of this situation, was how Vermithor would react to not only the colder weather but having to stay there.

・It is known that dragons do not like to travel far (without a rider) and love heat. So how would he stay with you?

・Your second concern was being away from your family... you had never been apart from them. Ever since being born, you were close to your siblings - but your mother cherished you in a different way...

・As her only girl, she hated having to send you away. But she knew House Stark would keep you safe. And you had Vermithor... Surely you would be okay?

・The first time you met Cregan was when you were both infants. Viserys had thrown you the largest nameday and the Lord of Winterfell came, along with his son.

・Being a few years older than you, Cregan can recount the memory. Especially the time you had grabbed his nose so tight that he thought you were going to tear it right off.

・The second time was only a few weeks ago, when you had flown with Daemon after Luke's funeral. (Rhaenyra wanted to go herself, but Daemon had become a father figure when Harwin died and she remarried.)

・You were used to Daemon. House Stark was not.

・And it was the Stark's maester who had interrupted a few times to keep both Cregan and Daemon in check.

・But Daemon was only testing the Stark - he wanted to know you would be protected.

・When the day came to leave, everyone came to see you off.

・Your brothers were teary-eyed, especially Joffrey who had clutched onto Jace. Your eyes matched his own - full of tears, puffy and red. You had been crying all night.

"I'm going to miss you all so much," you said to your brothers who had hugged you tightly. The white haired ones didn't understand what was going on, but they babbled to you anyway.

・Jace put on a brave face; he knew Cregan would keep you safe.

"I wish I could stay," you mumbled into Jace's chest, but he just kissed the top of your head and held your cheek.

"You are doing more than you know," damn him for being so wise, you had thought.

・You hugged Baela and Rhaena, all three of you had become so close that it physically hurt to know you wouldn't see them everyday.

"We'll see each other again," Rhaena cooed, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

"And when we do, you have to tell us all about marriage..." Baela said, a twinkle in her eye.

You bumped her shoulder, "Baela! Of course you know I will!" All three of you laughed and hugged once more.

・Your mother was the last to give you farewell.

・She leaned her forehead against your own, tears spilling down her cheeks. Rhaenyra was full of inner-conflict. A large part of her didn't want to send you away to get married. But that's what royals had to do - especially in times of war. She wanted you safe; but wasn't safe with her?

・No. Rhaenyra had decided that being at home, at Dragonstone wasn't safe for you.

・But she knew Vermithor would stay with you - you were his first rider since Jahaerys, and that bond would protect you like no other.

・However, Vermithor's brute personality made this change in scenary difficult.

・It wasn't the first time in his life that he'd been to Winterfell. But having to relocate there was a challenge.

・Until Cregan had shown you the new cave/dragon pit they had made for him. It was incredibly warm, and large enough for him to stalk off into.

・Saying thank you to Cregan didn't feel enough. So you kissed him on the cheek and ran after Vermithor to see it for yourself

・The first time Vermithor and Cregan met, it nearly had you in stitches.

・Cregan didn't think it was funny for a long time. But after a few weeks, whenever you told the story - he let a smile appear on his face

・You had settled into Winterfell easier than you thought you would. You asked Cregan why that was - how Winterfell was just as warm of a castle as any other.

"Centuries ago, Bran the Builder had built Winterfell around an ancient godswood and over natural hot springs. The water is piped through walls and chambers to heat them. This is why Winterfell is far superior than any castle," he winked as he said it and you snorted in response, for it would be an insult to any other royal.

・But Cregan did have a great point - the system that Bran used when making Winterfell made it far more comfortable than other castles during the harsh northern winters.

・Every room had a fireplace that was kept lit all day, everyday. It was absolutely brilliant!

・One of your favourite places to go is the Godswood; the Weirwood tree seemed to hum; or so you thought.

・If Cregan cannot find you, he knows that's the one place in the castle to look first.

・Your relationship with Cregan became infinitely easier when you let your walls down.

・Opening up bit by bit, made him realise just how much you worry.

・And in turn, he too would tell you things no other were to hear.

・It strengthened your marriage.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Strong Feelings (Thinking It's Hate - WRONG It's Love)

The Gomez & Morticia Adams (absolutely obsessed with his wife)

"Think they'll try us?" x "Fuck I hope so."

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Bickering and Banter

Mutual Growth and Empowerment

Soulmates/Bonded Pair

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Wolves by Bruno Coulais

The Lone Wolf by Sagason

For the Dancing and the Dreaming by Erutan

[joelsflower]

love language | origins!logan x f!reader

logan told you one million times he didn’t want anything for his birthday… anything besides you, lingerie and the moonlight.

a/n: hiiii <33 lis disappeared but is back again and apparently still obsessed with the concept of hot old men unwrapping you like a present. the hugh jackman fever hit me VERY hard and im down bad cough cough enjoy! also to enhance the experience when i say “he looked up at you” pls picture him exactly like in this picture ☝🏼and expect to feel something growing in ur belly in the next 9 months

wc: 4k

warnings: 18+ mdni. pure smut and fluff!! lingerie, logan is obsessed w reader, older!logan (i picture him in origins cause wtf is this man and reader in her early/middle 20s but up to you! legal ofc!!) fingering and eating out but brief cause reader is hot to go!, blowjob, facefucking & deepthroat (not rough), unprotected piv (wrap it up!), creampie, AFTERCARE!!! like SO MUCH logan is soooo soft!dom in this the whole time is like toothache sweet cause it’s a lis fic and yes. they are IN LOVE yall. oh and also reader is a kindergarten teacher (oops

🎀🎀🎀

“Stay”

You grabbed his wrist the moment he recollected his will to leave the end of the bed. Logan’s eyes turned soft, finding you from over his shoulder and turning around to follow the sunlight that kissed your cheeks.

“I wish, angel,” he cooed, both hands brushing your cheeks while his body towered over you “but someone already made me late, huh?”

You gave him a shy smile to meet the smirk that adorned his features, both of you sharing the memories of your bodies tangled just minutes prior. “Wanted to give you a present,” you almost whispered, remembering the one hundred times he told you he didn’t want anything for his birthday.

Not a cake, not a present, not a party. Nothing. Just you.

Logan’s smile faded, but you knew he wasn’t mad. With large hands embracing your neck softly, he kissed you on the forehead, “told you,” on the nose, “you are,” on the jaw, “the only thing i want”, and on your mouth, leaving the taste of him to linger on your lips throughout the whole day.

Your eyes slowly drifted up to find his gaze, the back of your head now resting on his palms.

“Promise” he gave you a sterner look before walking towards the door, “I promise,” you whispered, following as the smile you had earned earlier returned to his face, his back only turning to you when he heard the words fall from your lips.

But it was only a half promise. After all, he still wanted nothing but you, right?

🎀🎀🎀

The day passed by very slowly. You didn’t work on fridays, so you spent the most of it correcting some grades and planning the activities for your next week’s classes. You missed the kids, you can’t lie, and having glue and glitter all over your house definitely distracted you from the little something that was waiting patiently inside a very fancy box on the back of your closet.

The sun was setting around the time Logan would be home and you also had finished all the things you had planned earlier, so you used the time you had to take a shower and get ready.

The scent of some very sweet flower graced your nostrils when you pulled the lid of the heart-shaped box. Your eyes glowed in awe when your fingertips brushed the delicate baby pink lace, the little hairs on your lower belly goosebumping with anticipation, thinking how beautiful you’d feel in it and how the man that loved you would feel about you in it.

And that’s when you heard his steps on the stairs.

Logan arrived silently, and in part to make sure you hadn’t burnt yourself out making some sort of surprise for him. It’s not that he didn’t trust you, but all the glitter and glue on the table and the all the silence scared him a bit.

“Baby?” He called you while undressing himself down to his black t-shirt and boxers. “Oh, hey you,” his expression softened when his eyes found your head peaking from the bathroom door, gaze savoring the sight of him slowly unbuckling his belt.

“How was your day?” you asked watching him from the same spot, the muscles of his arms flexing when he reached to close the door and turn off the lights. Exactly how he said, the only things he wanted for his birthday were you, the lingerie he still didn’t know about, and the moon watching the two of you through the window.

“Great. Apparently someone told the guys it was my birthday and they let me work on paper today. So… Not so tired as I usually am.”

“I’m not sorry for that,” you smiled, knowing exactly who told the guys it was his birthday.

“I know,” he reciprocated your smirk, offering a hand in your direction. “Come here.”

Your breath got momentarily caught in your throat, excitement bursting in your body like fireworks in your veins.

“Close your eyes,” you said.

“Sweetheart-“

“Please?”

And how could he not? When your soft voice asked so nicely for him to? And the sweet and at the same time sexy scent of your perfume bewitched his thoughts? With your eyelashes blinking up at him and making the cold of his claws run to the lower of his spine? If closing his eyes would end the distance between you, then he would.

You then stepped carefully towards him, trying not to bump onto his knees and ruin the surprise.

You took both of his hands within yours, playing his fingers with your smaller ones. The simple contact made him shiver, the warmth of your presence washing all his tiredness and worries away.

“Could sit here with my eyes closed and just smell you forever”

You grinned. You knew his senses were heightened and definitely wanted to play with it tonight.

“Well, you told me you didn’t want to receive anything,” you then brought his hands to the sides of your thighs, the firmness of his palms on your soft skin sending shivers up and down your belly.

“Not totally true,” he thumbed your leg, fingertip brushing dangerously close to the fabric.

“Mhmm,” your hands glued on top of his and guided them a little lower, his palms now resting on top of the delicate, lacy garters adorning your thighs, “but I want you to feel it.”

Logan’s thoughts were in completely caos. Which of course, could only be translated by the grin on his face. You were close enough that he could not only smell your perfume and your scent, but knowing that he was the one causing that and with so little effort drove him insane. He could hear your accelerated heartbeat and used the grip on your legs to soothe you, moving his thumbs up and down, up and down, very slowly, feeling the contrast between the lacy fabric and your thighs.

“Yeah?”

You agreed silently, using your grip to move one of his hands all the way up to your belly in a very slow motion, to then release them both and let Logan’s fingers dance freely around your body.

The one hand he kept down gripped your thigh harder, snaking down to the back of your knee to bend it over his own leg, giving him better access to the rest of you. The thumb on your belly caressed around of your belly button in small circles and traced all the little flowers and bows on the thing garter that hugged your waist and decorated your breasts. The image being painted on Logan’s mind was already enough to make his underwear start to stiffen.

“Oh, baby,” he breathed, and it felt like the first fresh breath he had taken in the day.

The contrast of his rough digits with your delicate skin made your body a too tight space to contain yourself, inching closer to him at every touch. He then surrounded your middle with both of his arms and gave your stomach a kiss, your fingers playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck when he moved his face upwards, his chin rested on your tummy, eyes inching to meet yours.

“Can I see you, princess? Please?”

You hummed a quiet “mhmm”, and when he looked up at you with the most lovelorn eyes you had ever seen, you weren’t strong enough to hold back and kissed him.

It felt like the first kiss you two have had in a lifetime; deep, warm and wet. Your tongues danced together while his arms kept you impossibly closer, hands tightly holding from the back of your thighs to the top of your spine. When you parted to breathe, his eyes found yours again;

“There’s my girl. Let me see you, baby,” he held your hand in his and you took his signal to do a little spin, showing him your lacy one-piece.

“Happy birthday, love” you whispered, hands resting on his shoulders to balance yourself, one leg returning to rest on his.

“So you’re my present, hm?” Logan waited for you silent confirmation, palms devouring your thighs and ass while the kisses that he so gently placed on your knee slowly inched forward, “and do I get to unwrap you, angel?”

At that moment your walls were already pulsing with desire and your mind was already empty of words. You felt his lips wrap at a very special place on your inner thigh while his opposite hand moved up to message one of your boobs. You knew it wouldn’t take much for any of you to release control and quit the teasing, and being both on the verge of bursting the whole day waiting for the other, that was the time and the place.

You whimpered when his hand moved down and cupped your clothed center, his lips now distributing pecks on your hip while your nails dig in his shoulders.

“Gonna let me taste you, sweet girl? Hm?” He kissed your beating clit trough the lace and you nodded your head fastly, not being able to hold back anymore. You knew very well the animalistic look he had on his eyes now and the way his hands couldn’t rest in just one spot; he wanted nothing but to devour, explore and adore you.

With your consent, Logan wasted no time in sliding the delicate fabric to the side to meet your leaking pussy. The groan that left his chest when he saw your juices dripping to down your legs put your whole body on fire, followed by the cold that ran through your veins when two of his digits gently spread your lips apart.

“Fuck, look at you,” his thumb toyed with your clit, drawing little circles with a small pressure of the pad, “that’s how wet this little pussy gets for me, hm? Left you waiting the whole day to take care of you… Bad ol’ man, ain’t I?”

“N-no, you’re g-ood,” you managed to take the words out, eyes rolling to the back of your head and nails digging impossibly deeper into his shoulders when his digits lowered down and teased your opening, “and I wanna. Fuck. Wanna be good for you, Logan.”

“Oh, you are, princess. You’re my best girl.”

Pressing your clit between his lips and tongue, he sucked and savoured on it as if you were the source of all life on the planet, the most succulent fruit to the most starving man, like he himself once said; the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. His fingers pumped in and out of your hole rhythmically, hitting deeper and deeper each time. His other hand gripped your ass tightly and pressed your lower body impossibly closer to his face, making you moan loudly with all the stimulation.

You felt your walls start to clench his digits and pulled his head back by his hair to join your mouths in a wet, hot kiss, your other hand slowly removing his own from your sopping pussy, your shaking legs leading you to straddle him.

In his lap, the kiss only deepened; your and his movements were desperate, constantly searching for each other. You gripped his shirt by the collar and helped him take it off of his body, his muscular torso greeting you. Your hands eagerly pressed against his chest while Logan dig his fingers deep into your waist and moved you back and forth, your cunt pooling his underwear with the grinding of your exposed center on his throbbing and neglected cock.

“Wait- Logan, wait,” you pulled his roots again, making him moan.

“I’m here,” he rest his forehead on yours, fingers playing with the ends of your head while your breaths and heartbeats found the other’s rhythm.

“Wanna suck on you”

“Get on your knees for me then,” he demanded after a moment staring at you, trying to hide in his smile the excitement that flooded through his body.

You removed your body from his finding balance on his shoulder, lowering down to your knees on the carpet with the help of his arms around you.

He looked so, so beautiful like this. His prince hair and strong shoulders outerlined by the glowing moonlight that touched his back. His arm muscles tensin when one palm rested on his thigh and the other lowered down to finger-kiss your face. The “thank you, I love you” look he had on his eyes the whole time you were together. Who wouldn’t get get on their knees for this?

“That’s it princess, comfortable there?” You nodded and spread his legs a little, giving you space to kneel closer. He gave you another peck on the lips and moved his hands to rest flat on the bed, giving you all the freedom to do your thing.

You started by running your hands up and down his thighs while kissing down his abdomen, the thick path of hairs on his belly tickling your lips. Slowly, your hand snaked to his boxers while your mouth kept him distracted, licking the angry veins on his happy trail.

You palmed him eagerly, the volume of his member filling your whole palm and a little more. This first contact was enough to earn a raspy groan from his chest and some beads of precum that pooled on the little wet patch between his tip and boxers, where you butterfly-kissed before finally putting his underwear down.

You used your hands to spread his precum down and pump him a bit, desperate to have him in your mouth, you kept moving up and down while your mouth lowered to wrap around his tip, nursing on it like it was your favorite lollipop.

Your messiness has Logan seeing stars. Spit and precum was all over your face already, tongue darting up and down his shaft with desire. He almost screamed when your fingers played with the very top of his head and you lowered your mouth to his balls, suckling each into your mouth carefully.

“Jesus baby, that’s my girl, fuck-“

But it wasn’t enough. You were starved for him, for his pleasure. You waited the whole day to see his mouth hanging in bliss and you also wanted him to have what he wanted. You took his mouth of off his balls and kept lazily stroking him, lashes batting up to meet his eyes, “Fuck my mouth?”

Logan couldn’t believe how such a cute thing like you could look so sexy saying such filthy words. He loved it.

“Are you sure?” You nodded.

He then motioned for you to scoot back a little so he could get up, positioning himself in front of you, now both of you in front of the bed, sides facing the window.

He could die like this. The last thing he would ever see in his life could easily be you, on your knees, fucked out face with his precum and spit all over your face, with the moonlight reflecting on your rounded eyes just waiting for him to love on you. And he would die peacefully.

“Gonna start real gentle, ‘kay?” he assured you while brushing your hair back to hold it in his hands, one wrapping around the strands at the back of your head and the other holding his member.

“Lemme see this pretty tongue, baby’” he waited for your mouth to hang open and positioned his tip on top of your waiting tongue, tapping and circling it there. Logan kept teasing you (and himself) for a moment like this, smearing the leaking tip of his cock all over your mouth, tracing your tongue and lips at a torturing pace until he understood the desperate look in your widened eyes and scrunched brows, a silent “please”.

“Shh, gonna give you what y’want, princess. Suck on the tip, hm? Just the tip. Like you were doing before,” you loved when he ordered you around like this, especially when he looked so big towering over you and his voice was so low and deep like it was right now. You wasted no time in closing your already plump lips around him and deliciously suffocating his bulbous head in your mouth.

“That’s it bub, fuck. That’s my girl,” he loved when you were so obedient like you were right now during sex, his own little princess. His free hand stroked the part of his cock that wasn’t enveloped by your lips, using the mix of your spit and his own precum that was everywhere by now.

Your hands left your lap to dig into his thighs and your movements started to get more shallow, eyelids heaving and lashes blinking slowly up at him. You knew what you wanted, and Logan knew too, and he was gonna give it you.

The hand that was on his cock moved up to hold your jaw and the back of your head, inclining it up a bit so your face was now completely turned to him. This simple move of his already made his cock slip a little further into your mouth, taking a moan from both of you.

“Shhh, angel, yeah, that’s it,” his firm hold in the back of your head allowed you to stop moving and he slowly started to move his hips, pumping his cock in and out of your mouth carefully to not gag you. Not right now, at least. “Gonna give it to you slow, baby. You can take it, can’t you?” He knew an answer for you wouldn’t be exactly available at the moment, but you gave your best to manage out a nod, “know you can, bub.”

Logan kept his pace for a while before roughening and fastening it a bit to prepare you, tightening his grip on your head and steading the movements of his hips, his cock now halfway into your mouth, in and out, in and out. He felt your lips and throat loosening and the gagging sounds leaving your lips were driving him insane, his bones were on fire from keeping back and not just fuck your throat like he (and you) wanted.

When his tip kissed the edge of your throat you let your eyes close and your hands fall to his calf, letting him know you were ready, “just a bit more, sweet girl, just-“ his tip entered your throat with ease, curving a bit to follow its anatomy. When your lips finally touched the hairs on his base and his whole cock was seated into your hot mouth, he stilled completely.

You could hear his heavy breathing as if he ran a marathon in five minutes. The silence between the two of you letting you know that if he said or did anything he was surely cuming at that right moment. Logan’s eyes were closed and his head turned to the ceiling, brows furrowed trying to contain himself.

Your fingers caressed his leg slightly, reminding him you were ready, and when his gaze turned down to give you attention, dark and serious, like a big wolf preying down a little bunny, you knew what he was feeling. It faded quickly though when his eyes found yours, his rough expression turning into a smile, “you’re my best girl, aren’t you? That’s what y’wanted babe? To choke on my dick?”

You blinked your eyes assuringly, the heaviness of your eyelids taking a sexy, deep laugh from his chest. His hand left your head momentarily to caress your cheek with the back of his point finger, “think you can swallow for me?” he whispered.

You’ve done that before, and the feeling was nothing like anything you’ve ever experienced, the both of you. And you felt that it was coming by the calm and patient way he was dealing with you tonight. Logan was always careful to ask for things that edged your limits, always trying his best to keep you safe and comfortable. And who were you to deny the birthday boy what he was asking for?

You prepared yourself and slowly clenched your throat, suffocating his tip in the curve of it. Tears involuntarily pooled and fell from your eyes with the overstimulation and the feeling of oh, being so full of him, of his cock angrily pulsing in the whole extent of your mouth and now your throat. Logan’s eyes turned to the back of his head and his mouth hanged open, his fingers flexing in your hair to not lose control.

“O-one more time ba-“ and before he could even finish his sentence you were swallowing him down again, this time earning a loud and raspy groan from him, “fuck! baby, c’mon,” he carefully pulled himself from your mouth, cock hanging angry and desperate from your activities. “Need to feel you,” and kissed you hungrily.

He pulled you by your arms and intertwined them around his neck, tapping your bum slightly in a sign for you to jump in his lap. Logan was careful to drop you on the bed, never parting your lips and laying with his whole body weight on top of you. The hairs on his chest feathering over your nipples and the kiss of his tip over your folds were growing in you a type of desire you couldn’t quite decipher.

Sweat, spit and love were everywhere, your bodies swayed under the moonlight as if you were one. While your tongues fought for space into the other’s mouth, he reached a hand down and starting to thumb your clit, applying a delicious amount of pressure that had your mouth unplugging from his with a whine. When you felt his head finally circling your hole, you released him and turned around.

“Like that?” Logan watched as you switched positions, large palm finding your lower back while you placed yourself tummy down on the bed. “Can we?” you whispered, looking at him over your shoulder.

Logan smiled; if you kept being this cute he was going to fuck the sense out of you without effort. His other hand reached behind your knee and lifted it, giving him more easy access to you. Positioning himself into your entrance, he slipped his cock up and down your folds, your juices mixing in a squelching sound.

When he felt your hole flutter and your eyes close, your smaller fingers gripping the sheets, he reached up and kissed a drying tear in your cheek, “shhh baby, g’na go slow, ‘kay?” you nodded. There’s no exaggeration, Logan was big. Big and wide and veiny and filled you in all the right places.

The moment his head eased into you, you were seeing stars. The way your walls spread to welcome his girth made your mind fuzzy and all your senses heightened, the moan he left ecoed in your brain and the touch of his hand embracing yours burned like fire. He slowly pressed forward until his cock was perfectly engulfed inside you, both his member and your walls pulsing in unison.

“Move,” you mewled, fingers gripping his thumb in need. Logan used the hand on the small of your back to balance himself, starting to pump in an out at a perfect pace; not so fast but not so slow, deep, deep as he could to kiss every inch of your cunt and rearrange your insides.

“Pussy so warm, angel. Gripping me so tight,” he sad in your ear, “my little sweet gift.”

Stars exploded all the way down your spine, the fullness of his cock pumping your pussy and the weight of his body pressing on top of yours drove you over the edge, your walls gripping him tightly while you came, bringing his thumb into your mouth.

“That’s it, sweet girl, come for me,” he kissed your temple, “gush this cock, it’s all yours,” Logan slowed his pace inside you to let you calm down, caressing your hair and distributing kisses around your teary eyes.

“Think you can take a bit more, princess?” he whispered gently in your ear, his cock still throbbing inside you, “just a bit and I’ll be done. So I can fill your pussy up and good? Keep you full and plugged with me, hm?” You nodded with his thumb still between your lips and felt his hips meet your ass again.

It was so good. The overstimulation had you throbbing nonstop and your head in the clouds. Logan’s groans and moans were music to your ears along with his “that’s it, princess, fuck”, “whose’s pussy is this, hm? All mine to fuck and love on, ain’t it?”, “yeah, baby, that’s my sweet girl. Taking it so good f’me”, until he himself could take anymore, his cock pulsating and balls stiffening, until his voice got muffled by a low groan and you felt his seed fill you completely, gushing your insides and spilling down and off your walls.

“Fuck, fuck,” he whispered, tired. His forehead rested on your temple as you both calmed down, breathing harmonised. Logan awaited until you opened your eyes and delicately pulled his thumb from your mouth, brushing your hair off of your face.

“Hi,” he smiled.

“Hey,” you reciprocated, receiving a little peck on the lips, that turned into many many kisses all over your face while his palm messaged your back. “Thank you, sweetheart. Gonna pull out now, ‘kay?”

While Logan left to the bathroom to clean himself and find a cloth to clean you, you rested your chin on your forearms and stared up at the full moon through the window, sweetly reminiscing the last hour and thanking her for him. On moments like these all your mind could process was Logan Logan Logan.

“Here, bub,” he carefully whipped the fluids from your pussy, the pair of you giggling when you clenched in sensitivity, “c’mon, I draw the bath.”

You hand Logan spent another hour in the warm bath, cleaning and caressing and stealing kisses while the bubbles danced on your skin. You rested your head on his chest and lifted one finger, using the others to simulate a lighter to lit up the “candle”. “Here, make a wish,” you motioned it in front of his face, taking a laugh from him, who closed his eyes and made some funny faces to amuse you. He then blew your finger and playfully bit it, “what did you wish?”

“Well, I can’t tell you, can I?”

You kissed him and closed your eyes, laying back to your position on his shoulder.

“You. You’re my only wish.”

🎀🎀🎀

[caramelkoo]

kiss me? jjk.

the one with gentle hands and endless kisses

genre : husband!jungkook, "i can do it myself"!reader, "i know, but let me do it for you"!jungkook

warnings : fluff, more fluff, brief smut, words of affirmation as love language, jungkook takes care of her, oc is so relatable i cried, jungkook being the best husband ever. let me know if i missed something.

a/n : hello besties, here's a little fluffy ☁️ gift for you since im obsessed with husband koo. tysm for loving my previous writings im beyond grateful. the fact that people out there are reading what i write is making me jump from happiness. enjoy and you're loved.

"There she is, my favorite girl" Jungkook's plasters a sloppy kiss on your cheek. His sweaty body connecting with your freshly showered one but you don't mind. Not when the first thing he says is that you're his favorite girl after his early morning gym session. The phrase never fails to make you turn red.

Last night Jungkook had briefly mentioned his wish to have chocolate covered strawberries because apparently, the ones you make are his absolute favorite. So here you were, making chocolate covered strawberries for him.

"I missed you" he lifts himself up on the hard counter and leans back on his palms. He attempts to dip his index finger into the melted chocolate but you swat his hand away.

"You were literally gone for two hours and get down the counter, Jungkook!!!! You're all sweaty" you warn him.

"But you like me sweaty" he gives you the same look he hits you with when you don't let him eat the last piece of pizza. Pouty and adorable.

"No doubt about it but I'll have to clean it again, honey." when the look doesn't leave his face you speak again.

"Okay if you get down now, I'll let you fuck me in the shower" you've barely even finished the remark before he hops off the counter and runs towards the bathroom.

"I HAVE THE BEST WIFE EVER" his voice trails off.

Knowing the fact that he'll not let you live it down if you don't live up to your words, you wipe your hands and join him in the shower. You let him eat you out under the cold water and then pound into you as you struggle to keep your knees from giving out.

The loud sneeze echoes through the room as you wipe your nose which now feels like the 50th time. Tiring.

When you came out of the shower you were perfectly fine. When your nose started stinging, you didn't think much of it then too. Before you knew it, you were sneezing three times in a row with a fever which only keeps getting worse.

Jungkook had immediately wrapped you up in a fluffy blanket and asked you to take a nap as he cooks some porridge for you. At the risk of sounding selfish, whenever you're sick you're tend to crave his closeness more and more. You hate it though, you know it puts him at the risk of sickness but you can't help it. He looks cozy and so so comfy, you just want to snuggle with him and doze off.

After all, he's your safe place, your own personal haven with a gorgeous smile and warm embrace and he's well aware of the fact that you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself when you're sick, perfectly capable of running yourself a bath when you want to, skilled enough to wear that piece of jewellery around your neck.

However, he'd still run a bath for you with rose petals and scented candles, still ask you to lift your hair up when he clicks the pendant close before placing a kiss at the nape of your neck, still cook for you when you're sick and kiss you goodnight before he takes you in his arms and falls into deep slumber, still whisper into the darkness that he wishes he could take away all your pain upon himself thinking you're fast asleep.

Just like now as he places the tray, the bowl of porridge on top of it alongside your medicines, a glass of water and gummy bears because he knows that you're not fond of the bitter aftertaste of the medicines.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he touches your clammy forehead before tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Feeling any better, love?"

When you shake your head, his eyebrows crinkle in worry.

"I feel like throwing up but when I try nothing comes out" your lips open with a sigh.

His face gets remarkably worried. Not like he's wearing any other expression ever since you've started sniffing and stifling. You feel like shit. Earlier in the morning he's informed you about Namjoon's house warming party and was so excited to visit his best friend. Now he has to stay here and take care of your sick self when he should be with him, having the time of his life.

"I'm sorry you couldn't go to the party" your voice is brittle and you stop yourself from breaking down right there.

"Honey no, you're more important to me than any fucking party. Are you crazy? Besides, he would have poked my eyeballs out had I gone there and told him I left you here, sick and all by yourself."

The kiss that he places on your forehead is soft and tender causing you to close your eyes and bask in the love behind it.

"C'mon, get up and eat something. You'll feel so much better with your tummy full."

When you find it hard to get up all by yourself, you know it's more than just a cold now. You feel a headache coming.

Jungkook helps you sit up against the headboard as he picks up the bowl, taking a spoonful of porridge and holding it out for you to eat.

Your lips quiver and a sob threatens to break out, you hang your head low so he can't see the tears forming behind your droopy eyes but fail when your chest shakes with a sob.

Jungkook panics, quickly placing the bowl on the tray beside him, "Hey, what's going on? What's happening?"

You face him and open your arms, "Can you hold me for a while?" You're crying now. Tears stream down your face as your nose stings even more.

He wastes no time to take you in his arms, hands rubbing your back and then holding the back of your head as if he's cradling a baby. Holding you oh so gently like you might break and maybe you will. Maybe you will break because of how overwhelmed you are and how lousy you feel.

"It's alright, honey. Cry all you want, I'll hold you."

So you do, letting your head fall on his shoulder you cry out all the emotions you're feeling hoping you'd feel lighter by the time you're done. You're thankful for his silence. He understands, he always does and you understand him in return.

Your husband's hands don't stop moving for once. Constantly rubbing your back, running through your hair, gently massaging the back of your neck to release any tension. It's so funny how a tattooed hand like that which might look intimidating to strangers can be so soft and tender for you. For everyone in general, Jungkook is indeed the most gentle person you've ever known.

After what feels like eternity, you lift your head and break the hug. You lean back against the headboard as he speaks.

"Do you wanna tell me what caused that?" he asks in a careful voice.

You're still not in the space to talk so you shake your head and say, "Maybe later?"

"Whenever you feel like it, I'm here. But I wanna say something and I want you to listen carefully alright?" he waits for your nod before continuing,

"When we were about to get married, I had a chat with your father. He told me that you have a tendency to feel like a liability on people and you beat yourself up over somebody taking care of you, doing things for you, showing up for you because you'd rather do them by yourself. And then I promised him something. I promised him that I'll do anything, and I mean anything to not make you feel like that. I will manage to eat three bites less but I will never let you sleep with an empty stomach."

He kisses the back of your hands as you sniffle, scared that the tears might come back.

"So when I do things like this for you, skip my best friend's house warming party for you or doing anything for you for that matter, It's not because you're a burden. It's because you're mine and you'd do the same for me. I want to take care of you, honey. I like to. I love you the most _____, you're my everything and I can't fucking breathe when you're suffering like this."

Well fuck, the tears are back.

"Now, finish this and let me hold you to sleep" he helps you eat the porridge before you gulp down the medicines. The gummy bears follow.

With his help you lie back down on the bed as he saunters back to the kitchen, promising you to be back soon.

You're not surprised Jungkook knew the reason you broke down. You wouldn't expect any less from him and as always he has a way of making you feel loved and mattered with his words. Your husband is a gift and you want this particular gift in all your lifetimes, in every form.

He comes back with a bottle of water in his hand. He places it on the nightstand and joins you on the bed.

You stop him with a hand on his chest when he drops his head down to kiss you on the lips.

"You're gonna catch a cold" you warn.

"As if I care. Please baby, let me kiss you. You know I can't sleep without kissing you goodnight"

The chuckle that leaves you makes Jungkook's whole face light up.

"Only if you let me trace your tattoos"

"I promise" he says with the softest smile on his face.

Pouting your lips, you invite him for a kiss which he gladly places on your lip. His pillowy ones lingering for some seconds before pulling away. He kisses your cheeks next, your temples, your nose, your jaw and then finally, both of your eyes which were now damp from all the crying. Although, that didn't seem to bother him.

"I love kissing you"

When he plops back down on the bed, he pulls your entire body on top of his with your head tucked into the crook of his neck. He feels so warm and cozy, you never want to let go. He would be fine with that too.

"Honey?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you so fucking much. Let's make a baby when you get better"

"I love you too, husband. I wouldn't mind having a little one like you"

[theotherbuckley]

Tommy’s dad dies on a Monday.

He checks his emails on a Wednesday. There’s an email from his aunt. It’s only a few sentences. She was always very succinct and to the point.

His dad is dead.

It was a heart attack.

Bastard didn’t even suffer. 

He stares at his laptop screen until the words start to blur together. For an hour, he just sits there, looking at his computer but not really seeing anything at all. His coffee is long since cold. He never even took a sip. 

His mind feels empty, like there’s this fog that’s settled inside, clouding over his thoughts. He’s stuck. His brain doesn’t know how to process this, and neither does his body.

So he stays frozen. Just staring.

He doesn’t notice the time until he feels large arms wrap around him from behind.

“Tommy?” Evan asks. It doesn’t sound like the first time he’s spoken.

“I—“ The words are stuck in his throat. 

Tommy turns around from his chair, blinking a few times, until he manages to say, “My dad died.”

“Are you okay?”

That’s all it takes for Tommy to break.

He opens his mouth, closes. Shakes his head. 

And he just—

Cries.

Full body-wracking sobs overcome his body as he slumps into Evan’s open arms. He shakes, tears streaming down his cheeks as he burrows his face into his boyfriend’s neck. He’s getting snot and tears all over Evan’s shirt but his boyfriend doesn’t complain, just squeezes him tighter as he continues to be overwhelmed by his emotions.

He doesn’t even know why he’s crying. He just can’t seem to stop. 

He cries and trembles in Evan’s arms until he’s run out of tears left to shed. Evan murmurs sweet nothings into his ear, holding him tight and never letting go. 

“I’ve got you. I'm here,” Evan whispers in his ear. 

He feels like he’s run a marathon by the time he’s calmed down enough to pull back from Evan. His hands shake as he wipes the tears from his eyes, Evan’s own warm hands coming to hold his. 

“I don’t— I don’t even know why I’m cry—crying,” Tommy hiccups. He’s sure he must look a mess, red-faced and covered in tears.

Evan gives me a soft look, a small comforting smile on his face as he presses a kiss to Tommy’s forehead.

“You lost your dad. You’re allowed to cry,” Evan says kindly.

Tommy just shakes his head. “But he wasn’t— he wasn’t good.” He has an awful, vile human who never gave two shits about him. Only cared about him being a man, enlisting, stepping up. He doesn't understand why his chest still aches like his loss matters. It doesn't. It doesn't.

Evan wraps his arms around Tommy. He’s practically sitting on him, but Tommy doesn’t mind. Not when it’s Evan.

“He— He was a big part of your life, Tommy,” Evan says, running his fingers through Tommy’s hair. “And now he’s not. You’re allowed to be upset.”

Tommy just nods, collapsing back into Evan, who rubs gentle circles on his back in comfort, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He lets his boyfriend soothe his pain with his touch. He wishes it didn't hurt in the first place. Still doesn't understand why it does. He hated that piece of shit.

He's glad he's dead.

He hiccups as another tear makes it's way down his cheek. Evan squeezes tighter.

“Is there a funeral?” Evan asks softly.

Tommy almost laughs. “There’s no one who cares enough to give him one. He doesn’t even deserve one.”

“But you do,” Evan says sincerely.

That gets Tommy to look up, eyebrows raised in question.

“You deserve to have the closure,” Evan continues. “It’s a lot better than trying to pretend you’re alright when you're not. Trust me.”

“You lost someone?” Tommy asks. Evan’s never talked about it, but maybe—

“No, no. I just know what it feels like to— to bottle your emotions up when it comes to the people who are supposed to love you.”

“I’ll speak to my aunt about a funeral,” Tommy says. Evan gives him a soft smile and a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling him close again, Tommy wasting no time to burrow into the corner of Buck’s neck, soaking up the comfort of his boyfriend.

“I love you,” he murmurs into his shoulder.

“I love you,” Evan repeats back. 

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Saddle Me Up, Cowboy Part 1: Spin Me Around the Dance Floor✨

Cowboy! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to @alltheirdamn for encouraging me to write this! Beth Dutton and Rip Wheeler from Yellowstone heavily inspired this short little series. I hope you enjoy 🩷

Chapter Summary: You were only trying to enjoy your drink and watch the different couples spin around the dance floor at your favorite country club, but all that changed when you set your eyes on a certain handsome brown-eyed cowboy.

Rating: 18+ only

Word Count: 4.6k

Tags: Lots of fluff, flirting, pining, two stepping, meet cute at a country western bar, no use y/n, no outbreak au, switching POVs, soft! Joel, summer love, reader has hair

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The neon lights flash across the busy dance floor as bodies sway back and forth to the slow country tune. Smoke permeates through the air as couples hold each other close and the men spin their lovers around the wooden floor. You love two stepping, love the rustic feel of the bar, love the feel of your jean shorts and fitted cowboy boots. You just love being here on a Friday night in your favorite country bar called Cowboys. 

   You stir the straw slowly around in your mixed drink, your elbow leaning against the side of the dance floor, toes tapping on the bottom of the barstool. And as you watch the happy couples spin across the floor, you can’t help but wish that was you out there. 

   When was the last time you came here with a date? Maybe two years. 

   Sure, you’ve been asked to dance. Took a twirl around the room twice with some nice blonde guy that talked about his job and dogs. But it was just friendly and casual. Just a way to spin around the dance floor a couple of times. It wasn’t a perfect match with your cowboy lover. That’s someone you haven’t met yet.

   Tonight, maybe you’d find someone. The one. A girl can dream, and that’s exactly what you do. Dream.

   Another two songs fly by as you sip your fruity drink, watching couples come and go on and off the dance floor. A slow Morgan Wallen song floats through the packed room, your eyes roam around the bar, falling on the far right corner. Just when a couple spins out of the way, it clears your view to the opposite side of the dance floor. And oh my God, your heart drops out of your chest.

   You nearly choke on the fruity liquid, your jaw dropping straight to the floor. There, right across the room, stands the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your entire life. 

   He’s tall, well over six foot. His green button-up flannel clings to strong biceps, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing thick veins that spider down into massive hands. His hair is dark and sandy, silver threaded through his tousled curls and burrowing into the thick beard against his sculpted jawline. He’s tan, dark from working out in the sun, you think. And his eyes look like the color of chocolate almonds from what you can tell under the dim lights. And his smile. Jesus, it could light up an entire room. 

   Soft. He looks so soft the way he holds the flute of his beer bottle, the way his eyes light up every time he laughs with his friends. And God, you’d kill to see him smile at you like that.

   You keep your gaze on him, staring like a child in a candy store, eyeing the last Hershey’s bar on the shelf. And it’s like your first school crush all over. You need to get a hold of yourself, but you just can’t. He’s too tempting, too smoldering, too perfect.

   And in the next moment, his eyes are on you.

—

   Sweat beads Joel’s forehead as he takes another swig of his beer, a chuckle leaving his lips as Tommy teases Maria and pulls her to his chest. She just laughs and kisses him on the cheek as he wraps her in his leather jacket. Joel wishes he had someone like that. Someone to love as much as Tommy loves her. Maybe someday he would.

   “You gonna ask anyone to dance?” Tommy asks, his brown eyes trained on Joel. 

   “Eventually,” Joel mutters, sighing as he takes another generous sip of the strong alcohol. 

   “Better before the end of the night,” Tommy laughs, pulling Maria by the hand to the dance floor. Before Tommy turns away, he gives a brotherly shove to Joel’s shoulder and winks. “Pretty girl at twelve o’clock, straight across the room. Go get her, Joel.”

   Just as Tommy leaves him with a confused expression, he looks up and freezes the minute he spots you. He gulps and sets his beer on the table, his fingers curling into the wooden tabletop, eyes wide when your eyes meet his.

   Big, glittering, beautiful eyes swallow him whole, the swirling lights making them glow even brighter. He catches his breath and has it knocked right back out of his chest again as a shy smile curls against your glossy red lips. He thinks he just fell in love. 

   Your pretty hair falls in long waves down your shoulders; your low-cut tank top sticking to your sun kissed skin shining under the bright spotlight. It’s like an angel sits before him, and he’s mesmerized. Your tight denim shorts hug your curves, and your tan boots with embroidered butterflies scuff against the barstool. Your pretty eyes flick down to your drink and back up to him repeatedly, sweetly beckoning to him to come ask you to dance.

   Shy, sweet, adorable, beautiful. He picks all this out just by looking at your pretty face. And you’re just his type of girl; he already knows it. He thinks you were made just for him to find tonight.

   It goes on like clockwork for the next few songs. Shy smiles, locked eyes, hesitation permeating through the thick, smoky air. But he won’t hesitate for long. No. He wants to know you, to dance with you, to take you out, maybe show you his ranch. 

   He just has to have you. And he will. You’ll be his by the end of the night.

   After an encouraging slap on the back from Tommy, he takes one more glance your way and hands his tan cowboy hat to Tommy. Right now he only has one task at hand, and that is to ask the pretty girl to dance. So, he swallows all his nerves and walks across the room, right through the sea of endless bodies. 

   Right to you.

—

   Your cheeks burn hot as you lock eyes again; a flirtatious game you’ve been playing for the past two songs. You practically feel on fire with the way your body reacts every time he looks at you. 

   Maybe he’ll ask you to dance. You hope he does because you have a feeling being in those big, strong arms would be like jumping into a freshly made bed after a long day at work. Warm and cozy and made just for you. 

   You bite your bottom lip and laugh as your head drops to the scuffed-up wood, a loose curl falling over your shoulder. How can you already like someone this much when you don’t even know them? Sounds pretty silly, but it gives you tingles in your feet just the same.  

   This is a good sign.

   When you look back up, your heart drops to the floor when you don’t see the handsome man standing across the room anymore. You slide further down in your chair and sigh, letting all the hope fizzle out of your tired body. 

   He left. You just wanted one dance. That’s all you wanted. One fucking dance.

   You sigh quietly and look back out at the spinning bodies on the dance floor, shaking off the growing tears in your eyes. Just when you think one might drop, your body freezes when you hear a husky, deep voice being cleared next to you. When you turn to look at who just interrupted your sulking session, you nearly fall off the barstool.

   It’s him. The man with the pretty brown eyes.

  “Hi.” His deep voice floats through your ears like a dream, and the music seems to disappear altogether.  

   “Uhh—hi,” you stammer out, your mouth agape as you watch a small smile curl against his inviting lips.

   “‘M sorry if this comes off as rude. But what’s a girl like you doin’ sittin’ on the sidelines, darlin’?” His thick Southern accent drawls out, and your eyes immediately widen when you hear how deep and staccato it sounds. You think you could listen to it all night long.

   Darlin’. He called you darlin’.

   Your words fail you, so you just brush off his apology and smile. “Can’t a girl enjoy a drink?”

   He chuckles and shakes his head, a tousled curl falling into his forehead. You want to brush it back for him. That soft looking sandy hair. “Well, sure ya can. Didn’t answer why you’re sittin’ over here by yourself, though.”

   “My friends are dancing,” you shrug, spinning your straw nervously in your drink, letting the liquid slosh around the sides.

   “Now how come a pretty thing like you ain’t out there with ‘em? Hmm?” His thick eyebrows raise in question, and another dreamy smile meets his face. 

   God, he’s so handsome.

   “Oh, I dunno. Was just watching,” you answer nonchalantly, not pointing out the fact that they’re all taken and you’re not.

   He hums to himself, his eyes flicking to the dance floor and back to you after a few seconds. “You wanna dance?” he asks softly, his chocolate eyes sparkling in the hope that you’ll say yes.

   “Huh?” you say off guard, your eyes wide at the question. 

   He just asked you to dance.

   “Do you wanna dance with me?” he asks again, nudging the side of your boot with his own worn leather boot.

   “You’re asking me to dance?” you question.

   “Ain’t that what I asked?” he chuckles, causing your stomach to somersault with the way his infectious laugh is making you feel. All warm and tingly.

   “Oh. I umm—okay,” you smile shyly, looking up through your long eyelashes at him. 

   “Is that a yes, darlin’?” he asks with a big smile.

   “Yes, I’d love to,” you confirm with a nod.

   “Well, c’mon then.” He holds out his open palm, and you don’t hesitate to take it. 

   Warm. He’s so warm. Rough, calloused hands that hold yours perfectly. A match made in heaven.

   He leads you to the middle of the dance floor, careful not to get in the way of any other couples. And then he slowly slips a hand around your waist, the other securely latched to your hand, his fingers laced through yours. And when he starts to lead the dance, you follow right after him.

   The bright lights land over him, putting his beautiful eyes right on display for you. Your breath catches when you see how soft his eyes are. Dark brown like the color of honey and onyx flecks swirling in his irises that hypnotize you to him. He’s absolutely beautiful. You’ve never seen eyes as pretty as his; ones that draw you right in. And the way he’s looking at you, all soft and like he’s looking at the most beautiful girl in the world makes your knees a little wobbly. 

   The neon signs on the walls glow in the distance, the melodic tune of a Scotty McCreery song floats in the background while couples dance around you. Joel leads you around the dance floor, holding you tight and never once stepping on your feet. 

   You scuff your boot over his toes out of nervousness, but he doesn’t say anything about it. He just chuckles and pulls you closer to where you can feel his steady heartbeat against your chest, his brown eyes staring into yours like he’s enamored by you. But he’s got your full attention, and you’re so into him already.

   “What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asks, his Southern drawl completely melting you at the sweet sound. You tell him yours and when your name slips off his tongue, you nearly fall to your knees in awe.

   “And yours? What’s yours, Cowboy?” you ask over the loud couple that whips around you. 

   “Cowboy, huh? Already got a nickname for me, sweetheart?” he chuckles, eyes lighting up at the nickname like he wants you to say it again. And maybe you will.

   “Maybe so,” you giggle, relaxing into the dance as he spins you around in circles, the lights following your movements.

   “The name’s Joel. Joel Miller.” He tips his head and gives you a big smile. You can’t help but giggle every time he smiles at you. It’s like you’re in first grade all over, and Joel’s the new, cute boy that’s caught your attention in class.

   “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Joel.” 

   “Pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart,” he smiles, keeping you close to his warm body. You let out another nervous giggle, and it just makes him smile wider like he’s addicted to your laugh. 

   “I like your laugh, darlin’. Could listen to it all night,” he sighs dreamily, chocolate eyes melting as he looks intensely at you, honing in on just you while the rest of the room disappears. Your breath hitches for just a second, and then you melt right back into him.

   “Well, I like your brown eyes,” you lull, your eyes locked on his pretty pools of honey. You giggle when he blushes, and then a dimple indents into his left cheek when he smiles. And God, you think you just fell in love. 

   “And your smile. I love your pretty smile. It lights up a room, darlin’. And you lit up the whole damn bar tonight,” he drawls, his warm breath fanning over your open mouth, gawking at this handsome gentleman. 

   He’s fucking perfect. 

   He lifts his arm and spins you around in a complete circle, his large hand finding your hip again and pulling you back into his broad chest. And there you are, completely breathless again.

   “So, Cowboy. What made you want to come ask me to dance?” you ask, curiosity circling in your wide eyes.

   “Saw you from across the room, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off you,” he answers honestly with the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

   “Me?” you ask, taken aback. 

   “Yes, you,” he chuckles as he guides you across the polished dance floor.

   “There’s a hundred other girls in here who’ve had their eyes on you all night,” you scoff in a playful way.

   “Oh? Is that so?” An eyebrow lifts in piqued interest, but his eyes still don’t leave yours. They stay glued to you.

   “Mhm,” you hum in confirmation.

   “That means you’ve been watchin’ me too, ain’t that right?” he smirks devilishly, his brown eyes darkening just slightly.

   “No I—no. That’s not…” you stutter, at a loss for words. You were watching him. Ever since you saw him across the room; that damn smile that has your head spinning.

   “S’alright, sweetheart. Wasn’t tryin’ to get you all flustered now,” he chuckles, obviously trying to get you flustered. He doesn’t have to try hard because you’re already overly flustered.

   “I’m not flustered,” you scoff, your cheeks burning hotter with every second his chocolate eyes are on you.

   “No? Well, you’re pretty cute when you’re blushin’, darlin’. Maybe I want you flustered,” he grins, a beautiful smile curling against his plush lips.

   “Careful, Cowboy. You might be the one blushing next,” you tease, narrowing your eyes playfully in response.

   “I’d like to see you try, sweetheart,” he challenges, his eyes growing into a soft syrupy color you want to drown in.

   “Maybe I will, brown eyes,” you say with the flash of a smile.

   “Brown eyes, huh? Kinda like the sound of that.” His pretty eyes are genuine when he says it, like it’s the best thing you’ve said this whole dance. And the pink that marinates around his dark scruff tells you enough. He does like it.

   You smirk in knowing and wink playfully his way, creating a deeper blush on his tanned skin. It makes your heart skip a beat. “Good, now you’re the one blushing.”

   He shakes his tousled curls and sighs, his eyes alight with an enamored glow. “Christ, you’re adorable.”

   “If you say so, Cowboy,” you say, letting him continue the dance even though there’s a new song booming from the overhead speakers.

   He wraps his large hand tighter against your waist, and you let his other gently glide up and down the back of your hand. A caress that’s laced with care.

   “I do say so, sweetheart,” he chuckles warmly. “But you wanna know the real reason why I asked you to dance?”

   You keep your eyes trained on the glow of his and squint carefully. “Tell me.”

   He takes a deep breath and smiles shyly. “The reason I asked you is ‘cause I thought you were the prettiest girl in the room.”

   Your mouth gawks open in shock. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl in the room? Wow. “Me? Are you sure you picked the right girl?” 

   “Yes, you,” he nods, his thumb stroking against your soft skin. An affirmation of what? Care, admiration, love?

   “You think I’m… pretty?” you ask hesitantly, your voice quiet and meek. He can’t think you’re the prettiest girl. There’s no way.

   “Mhm. Gorgeous. And your eyes. Absolutely beautiful, sweetheart. They make the lights in here look dim with how bright yours shine.”

   You stare in amazement at him, eyes as wide as an owl’s gawking at the man with pretty brown eyes who swept you off your feet. You’re falling into places you’ve never been, and you’re quite scared of how many feelings are bubbling up inside you already. But at this moment, you don’t care. All you can do is stare at him affectionately as he spins you around the room.

   He’s perfect. 

   “So, what does a pretty girl like you do for work, sweetheart?” he asks, molton brown eyes glazing into yours, making you audibly gasp how pretty they are.

   “I’m a vet assistant.”

   “Vet assistant, huh? You ever work on cattle, by chance?” His wide brown eyes are full of hope, and a smile tugs at his lips. 

   “Unfortunately no. Just dogs and cats mostly. Why? You got some cattle, Cowboy?” Your eyebrow arches, and a mischievous smirk curls over your mouth.

   He chuckles and nods his head. “As a matter of fact, I do. I own a ranch,” he says proudly, standing a little taller, making your face hurt from smiling so damn much at him. 

   “So you are a Cowboy. I knew it,” you giggle. “What kind of animals do you have?”

   “Tons,” he says, the neon lights glowing over his tousled curls. “Horses, cows, bulls, chickens, sheep, dogs, and the list goes on.”

   “My, my. You got your hands full. Don’t you, Cowboy?” you blush, fluttering your eyelashes flirtatiously up at him. You like him even more now. 

   “Reckon I do,” he chuckles, his thumb tracing light circles against the back of your hand, eliciting goosebumps down your arms. 

   “Too full to handle one more thing?” you question, giving him your best puppy dog eyes that you can manage. 

   He shakes his head and smiles warmly. “If that one thing is you then ‘course not. Got all the room for you, darlin’.”

   Your eyes soften into liquid and your head is spinning as you stare at this beautiful man. You’re already falling head over heels, and you think he is too. 

   “You ever ride a horse before?” he asks, tilting his head like he’s assessing you.

   You shake your head in response. “I mean, when I was little I rode on a pony. But a horse? No. Can’t say that I have.” 

   “You wanna learn? Got a stallion back at home that has your name on the saddle.” His smile is breathtaking, just like his honey-colored eyes. Your heart gallops in your chest like hooves pounding on the ground. He wants to teach you how to ride?

   “You really plan on teaching me?” Your eyebrows pinch together, hesitation stuck on your tongue. 

   He nods, a fleeting smile meeting his beautiful eyes. “Consider it our first date, darlin’. Gonna turn you into a little cowgirl.”

   “Oh, a cowgirl, huh? Is that what I’m going to be?” you giggle flirtatiously, and he picks right back up on it as he winks at you.

   “S’right. My cowgirl.”

   My cowgirl. 

   Your heart gets stuck in your throat, words lodged deep inside. So you do what you can do. Smile and trace your fingertips across his broad shoulder, letting the soft flannel graze against your smooth skin. 

   As the song slows to a halt, you find the opportunity to wrap both of your arms tightly around his neck, nuzzling your face into the soft fabric of his flannel. His arms circle your hips, and one hand gently runs up and down your lower back, sending electricity zapping through your nerve endings. 

   You smell him now. His woodsy cologne, the hint of sweet beer on the tip of his tongue, faint scents of smoke on his collar, the scent of leather in the air. He smells like your favorite scent all mixed together, combined into the perfect formula to get you drunk off him. And you’d gladly get drunk off him. 

   “Lady May” by Tyler Childers plays through the speakers; the slow song sending the mood of the bar into  a romantic, all consuming type of way. Love’s permeating through the air, and you can feel it everywhere. It tingles in your toes, brushes like a breeze through your hair, spirals down the back of your spine, floods your heart with warmth you’ve never felt before, makes your eyes sparkle like starlight through the bright lights, landing right in the palm of Joel.

   Put your toes down in the water. And a smile across your face. And tell me that you love me. Lovely Lady May.

   He pulls you closer, where your chin is tucked against the crook of his neck, his woodsy cologne making you feel a bit dizzy. 

   Now I ain’t the sharpest chisel that your hands have ever held. But, darling, I could love you well.

   Lovely lady May.

   His lips brush over the crown of your head, his fingertips lighting your nerve endings on complete fire, sparks igniting in his caramel eyes. The way he’s looking at you makes you think he’s already in love with you. And maybe you’ve already fallen in love with him, too. 

   As the music slows, he dips you low, not daring to let your back touch the scuffed-up wood. When he pulls you back up, he brings you flush to his broad chest, and his scent is everywhere. 

   His brown eyes sparkle like glitter, shooting stars that only you can make a wish on in the clear night sky. And his smile. My God, you’ve never seen anything as beautiful as him before.

   He gently brushes a loose curl behind your ear, lingering his calloused fingertips down your jawline, ending right under your chin where he stills. The room melts away, the noisy crowd disappearing as the song completely takes a hold of you. 

   But I’m baptized in your name. Lovely Lady May. 

   His thumb slowly traces your bottom lip, leaving invisible marks that’ll stick like permanent ink, branding you as his own. The way he’s staring at you all soft and deeply makes you melt into him even more.

   One more trace, one more shy smile, and he’s asking. “Darlin’?”

   “Yes?” you ask breathlessly.

   “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his Southern drawl sounding lovestruck and angelic. “And thank you for allowin’ me to dance with the prettiest girl in the room. But there’s jus’ one more thing I’d like to do.” His mouth drops a little lower, and your breath hitches.

   “And what’s that?” you ask, lilting at his soft smile.

   “I’d really like to kiss you…” he breathes, his deep timbre shaky as his brown eyes melt into you.

   You lean up on your tiptoes, blowing your breath over his open lips. “Then kiss me, Cowboy…” you whisper out.

   He cups your face the next second and leans in, crashing his lips down on yours without any hesitation. And he draws you in like a moth to a flame. 

   His lips are soft like velvet, and he tastes like your new favorite flavor. Blue moon, sweet and savory with a hint of smoke and mint marinating on his tongue. 

   And then your lips become his as you fall like rain into his kiss.

   Mint. Blue Moon. Smoke. Velvet. Cedar Wood. Leather.

   He’s all you know now. 

   You stay like that for minutes, connected like webs to each other in the middle of the dance floor as couples swirl in a colorful blur around you. When the two of you finally disconnect from each other’s lips, a big smile curls against his mouth and his pretty brown eyes look like they’re laced with love the longer he looks at you.

   He brushes his thumb against your lower lip and leans in close, his lips tracing the shell of your ear. “You taste like mine, darlin’.”

   And that’s when you fall head over heels for the Cowboy that snatched your heart and made you his own.

   He pulls you in for another dance, and you let him lead you through another song which turns into another and another and another. You lose count. All you know is that you’d dance all night with him if you could. 

   After over an hour of twirling around the dance floor with him, he buys you a drink and leads you over to two barstools. You end up with your legs sprawled over his lap, his fingertips tracing lines over your thighs, his lips brushing over your cheek while he places his cowboy hat on top of your head, claiming you as his own. 

   You end up meeting Joel’s brother, Tommy, and his wife, Maria. And you spend all night laughing and flirting with Joel while you bond over music and shared interests. Turns out you have a lot in common. 

   It’s the way his smile stops your heart and his brown eyes that send your head spinning. It’s the way he calls you his girl and the way he can’t keep his hands off you for even a second. You’ve never been this wrapped up in a guy before, but you’ve never met a handsome gentleman like Joel. A cowboy that won your heart over the second he looked at you. 

   He ends the night by driving you home, walking you up to your door, pulling you against his broad chest as his thumb traces lightly against your skin affectionately. You don’t want to say goodnight.

   “So, pretty girl. How ’bout I pick you up at 4:00 o’clock tomorrow? Can give you your first ridin’ lesson, maybe watch the sunset from the back of my truck. Can tell you how beautiful you look under the stars,” he drawls, his brown eyes sparkling under the moonlight. 

   He has you reeled in, pulling you in like he just lassoed his way into your heart. 

   “Quite the romantic type. Aren’t you, Cowboy?” you blush, lacing your fingers through his tousled curls. 

   “That I am,” he chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulls you tighter against him. “So, what do ya say, Cowgirl? You gonna let me take you on that date?”

   “Pick me up at 4:00, and I’m all yours.”

   “All mine?” he smiles, his warm breath fanning over your lips.

   “All yours,” you confirm.

   He pulls you in for a slow, romantic kiss, letting it linger as the stars twinkle above your porch. You’re never going to get tired of his kisses, his soft Southern drawl, his big brown eyes. You’re only going to grow more in love with him every day. And you’ll let it grow like a wildfire that consumes you whole. 

   This was only the beginning. The beginning of a perfect summer love that would never fade away. 

Tags for those that were interested: @mountainsandmayhem @alltheirdamn @lotusbxtch @almostfoxglove @burntheedges

@jasminedragoon @inept-the-magnificent @magpiepills @almostempty @aurorawritestoescape

@milla-frenchy @pedrospatch @thundermartini @lanaispunk @sawymredfox @ace-turned-confused

@stylesispunk @there1snothingleft4u @littlevenicebitch69 @tuquoquebrute @ajw-23

[mingoooossii]

Sugar.

Yunho x reader

Synopsis: just a drabble with soft bf!yunho!!

Warnings: disgustingly fluffy(ew), they're just so in love, soft!bf yunho, kisses, reader just wants to sleep(and cuddle), reader is yunho's baby, period.

A/n: i cannot believe i wrote this. this is way too sugary for me 😭(hence, the name) but this yunho has my heart. He'd be the softest bf ever.

Ateez masterlist.

"Baby, come on! The world is waiting..."

Yunho tried again, laughter in his voice as he nudged you to wake up. He had been at it for quite some time now...

"You're so annoying!" you whined, still half-asleep, wrapping your arms around him even more tightly, refusing to let go. He found your clinginess endearing and couldn't help but chuckle.

"You say that, yet here you are, clinging onto me like a backpack." He teased, a warm smile spreading across his face. Mornings usually found you like this, but today, you seemed particularly clingy.

You let out a soft huff, burying your face into the pillow while clinging to him tightly. Yunho's heart melted at the sight, and he leaned down to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead, attempting to wriggle free from your embrace, but you just wouldn't let go!

"Sweetheart, as much as I wish I could stay here with you, I really have to go..." He tried once more, his voice laced with affection, hoping to coax you but you simply turned your head away. He couldn't help but marvel at how adorable you were, even if it left him a bit perplexed at times.

"Alright then, I guess I’ll just have to take you along with me," he declared with a feigned sigh, before swooping down to lift you into his arms, cradling you like a bride as he made his way to the bathroom, a grin threatening to break free.

Your eyes flew open in surprise, the remnants of sleep fading as you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, caught off guard yet filled with joy.

"My baby just needs a little more attention, hm?" he murmured, nuzzling into your hair for a brief moment as he stepped into the bathroom, gently placing you on the counter.

A small smile crept onto your face as he leaned in, planting an incredibly tender kiss on your lips that sent your heart racing. Even after all this time together, he still had the power to make your stomach flutter.

"Maybe I should take the day off..." you heard him say, pulling you from your daydream.

"Really?" you asked, meeting his gaze, a mix of happiness and guilt washing over you. You didn’t want him to sacrifice his plans just for you.

"... sweetheart, come back to me." Yunho said, cradling your face gently, bringing you back to the moment with soft kisses peppered across your cheeks.

"I'm feeling a bit lazy myself now, and I can't bear to leave you like this..."

[girl-in-the-chairs-void]

Hold me, Console me

Pairing; Logan x reader

C/w; hurt/comfort, fluff, Logan having nightmares

A/N; LOGAN HAS BEEN ON MY MINDDDD. Here’s a little mind dump for ya. Listen to “no one noticed” by the Marias because it’s literally the inspo for it!!!!

part 2 heheh

You and Logan were…different. He felt different with you, having all his walls broken down within weeks of meeting you; he never thought he’d feel so open again.

But there was something that always tugged at you. He leaves, during the night when you’ve dozed off into a deep sleep. He dozes off on the couch.

His groans and grunts when he has his nightmares was not unfamiliar to you and you wish you could help him through it but just won’t open up, won’t take down that last wall that you’ve been trying so hard to climb or break or just paw at.

He was having another one of those dreams- no nightmares, his past, dead faces everywhere. Flashes of the people he’s loved and lost; his mind mocking him with the fast forwarded slide show of all the horrible things that he’s endured. He doesn’t hear you at first. Your muffled pleas, calling his name.

Then he hears a desperate “Logan, please, wake up.”

And suddenly everything goes white. He takes deep breath through his mouth, sitting up on the leather couch suddenly. His claws come out in an instant as you jump back to avoid getting impaled, eyes wide.

His breathing is heavy- ragged, you were too close.

“Logan,” you crawl towards him, slow. A prey approaching its predator willingly.

He sheaths his claws in a blink, heels of his palms squeezing his eyes shut. A sharp, “no” is uttered before he’s reaching for his shirt and making a beeline for your door.

You run after him, blocking the door before he can reach the it.

“No, Logan! Not today,” your eyes are puffy, and pleading for him to stay. Just this once. “Please, stay”.

So fucking polite. He thinks. He could melt into you right then and there but he can’t. He can’t because he almost killed you. Almost hurt you.

You hurt her, like you hurt them. You hurt- you almost killed her. You killed them. You killed them. You killed her.

His face hardens at your plea but with one hand on his chest and a push, he can’t help but follow your orders.

“Baby…” He starts, choking back words, thinking in the fear of saying the wrong thing.

“Talk to me, Lo. You’ve been hiding here every night, in pain. I don’t like seeing you that way.” You sit him down on the plush yet worn out leather, sitting next to him. It groans under the weight of him and you as you let him sink further in.

He has half the mind and a full urge to pull you to your rightful seat on his lap, but he knows he can’t. Not right now.

“I can’t” his voice comes out shakier than he wanted it to. He doesn’t know what he can or can’t tell you. The horrors of his past have led him here, to you. Something he feels is permanent.

“You’ve endured a lot, life has given you too many hardships and I know it hasn’t been easy for you.” You say, reaching out your palm to wipe a stray tear away from his cheek, his beard tickling at your skin.

“But I want you to open up, please. Don’t like seeing you in pain, Lo.” You can feel your own tears running down your own cheeks.

He pulls you onto his lap, making you straddle him as he wipes your tears away silently. Pressing his lips to your forehead, he apologises in silent whispers; “I’m sorry” a kiss on your temple, “I’m so” his lips move down to your left cheek, “so sorry” then to your right before landing onto your own lips. It’s tender, filled with a thousand apologies and a million ‘I am here for you’s. He loves you, he really does.

“It’ll take time, bub.” He pulls away, hands still caging your face, calloused thumb brushing against your bottom lip as you up at him.

“It’s okay, take your time,” you cup his palm into your own, bringing it to your lips, peppering sweet kisses in the inside of it. So sweet.

“I’ll wait forever, but not too long, yeah?”

If only. If only that forever was actually as long as the word implied.

Because the next morning, you don’t wake up in the arms of the love of your life. There is no trace of him besides the lingering scent of his cigar.

He left without a trace.

[strawberryblue-blog]

A to Z. SFW alphabet.

—Lamine Yamal.

summary: soft alphabet of your relationship with lamine.

warnings: none. cute, soft, fluff, headcanon.

words count: +1k

A = Affection (How affectionate he is? How do he show affection?)

Too much. He likes any kind of affection that involves touching you, especially since he is a young man in love experiencing love in all its phases and wants to show his feelings for you.

B = Best friend (What would he be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start)

He is your best friend and partner. You met through mutual friends so you started to get closer every day and that's how your feelings started. After you become a couple, he will remain a faithful friend you can confide in and tell him anything.

C = Cuddles (Do he like to cuddle? How would he cuddle?)

As I said before, any form of affection is enough for him. He loves to cuddle you, especially on your back. Put his arms around you, lean you on his chest or cover you to make you feel safe and secure.

D = Domestic (Do he want to settle down? How is he at cooking and cleaning?)

He would like to move in with you in the future. He is still very young and must make decisions wisely but if you really work out in the future (and he hopes and expects that you will), he will not hesitate to take you into his home to live with him. He probably won't be able to do much at home because of the weather but he knows very well what it is like to help around the house and cleaning is not a problem for Lamine, he will do it without complaining.

E = Ending (If he had to break up with his partner, how would he do it?)

It would hurt his soul but if he had to break up with you he would surely do it to protect you, he has a dream and he wants to fulfill it as you also have one and you should do the same. He would be frank and sincere, quick and try to keep you two as friends if you wish. He loves you and knows that sometimes loving a person is also letting go.

F = Fiance (How do he feel about commitment? How quick would he want to get married?)

If he is very much in love, he would ask you to marry him before he is 25. It is clear that he is still very young but if he really thinks you have a future he will not hesitate to ask you to marry him.

G = Gentle (How gentle he is? physically and emotionally?)

Overly caring. Lamine is someone who is kind, caring and humble. He likes physical contact with you in any form. He may be a bit tougher emotionally, he may find it hard to talk about his feelings so openly at first but he knows he can trust you and will open up more and more.

H = Hugs (Do he like hugs?)

HUGE YES. He loves them. Any time, any place, any way. Hugging you from behind when they are at home, shoulders when they walk, from the waist when they go out, when they are with their friends or family, in bed when they sleep. He's a guaranteed hug man.

I = I love you (How fast do he say the L-word?)

Maybe about five/six months after their first date. Since you had known each other before and had been friends, he already knew you and was developing feelings for you but he didn't want to rush or pressure you, let alone scare you off. He was careful and waited for the right moment, he was the first to say it.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do he get? What would he do when he was jealous?)

It's a 7/10. Not in a bad way, normal like any young couple. Sometimes he likes to point out that you are his girlfriend, sometimes he kisses you in front of his mates or grabs your thighs when people are present to mark his territory but he is not toxic and would never make an exaggerated scene with you.

K = Kisses (What are his kisses like? how he likes to kiss you? where he likes you to kiss him?)

Obviously he likes to kiss you. On the lips especially, he is quite playful and affectionate, his lips are tasty and warm. On him, he likes you to kiss all his cheeks, forehead or nose. He finds it tender and cute.

L = Little ones (How is he around children?)

He has a little brother, so he understands children and likes them. But he knows very well the responsibility of children and probably doesn't want to have them until a good age.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with him?)

Too many lazy mornings with Lamine. Not a morning man, he likes to stay in bed, quietly, watching himself or spooning until they are forced to get up.

N = Night (How are nights spent with him)

Quite the opposite. It's the most exciting time for him, he likes to play, watch TV, go for a walk, cook, whatever. He usually comes recharged from training and wants to do things, plus it's one of the times when they are both together after their busy days.

O = Open (When will he start revealing things about himself? Do he say everything all at once or do he reveal little things slowly?)

It may be a little difficult at first. But he will gain confidence to open up to you little by little, especially if you open up to him. He is a man and like all men it is hard for him to show his emotions but after a few months he will be 100% confident and will tell you everything.

P = Patience (How easily is he angered?)

Almost never. He has a lot of patience and is very calm. Maybe it's because of self-confidence or because he doesn't like to panic but he will never intentionally pick a fight or argue with you. In fact, it is you who sometimes fights him (playfully speaking) but you will never see him angry or losing his head.

Q = Quizzes (How much would he remember about you? Do he remember every detail or forget the minor things?)

Of course he does. He knows everything about you, your likes, your dislikes. Your favorite color, your favorite food, your favorite clothes, things he learns as you carry on the relationship. What he learned while you were dating and what he learns now that you are a couple.

R = Remember (What is his favorite moment of your relationship?)

He remembers mostly everything about you and your relationship because he really cares about you. His favorite moment would be when you agreed to go out with him, also when you agreed to be his girlfriend. Even when he took you home for the first time and his first kiss. He might even remember little details that you didn't even have in mind but for Lamine you are moments that he will keep forever in his memory.

S = Security (How protective he is? how would he protect you?)

He is quite protective but it is more to make you feel safe, protected and loved. He likes to keep an eye on you when you go out so that nothing and no one can hurt you. At home he is also quite attentive because you are a bit of a mess.

T = Try (How much effort do he put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Not a lot. It's not because he's not interesting but because he knows you're not that kind of girl. He knows that anything is good enough for you and it doesn't have to be fancy or extravagant. But he likes to give you little things he knows you'll like or need. As for dating, he prefers to go for a walk in the park or sit and look at the stars, he would even invite you to play soccer with his friends. You are too simple and ordinary and so you enjoy it.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of him?)

Probably scaring you when you are distracted or doing something. It's a pretty acquired thing he has and he can't help but do it when you're focused on something or not attentive at all.

V = Vanity (How concerned is he with his looks?)

He is not very concerned with his looks. He is a young man who goes as he can and is at a stage where he doesn't care much about what others think about him, as long as he looks good and feels good about himself, he doesn't care much about how he looks.

W = Whole (Would he feel incomplete without you?)

Yes. After spending a lot of time with you, he will feel your absence and it will make him a little sad but he understands that you both need time alone and then you will see each other again so you can be together again.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for him)

He likes to look at you when you sleep, he usually spends hours awake looking at you when you sleep, seeing your every feature, how you sigh, how you snuggle up to him, how you are so peaceful and angelic resting next to him.

Y = Yuck (What are some things he wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

He wouldn't like it if you don't talk about your problems with him, if you hide something from him or lie to him. Whether it's about personal things or things common to your relationship. He wants you to be frank and would not tolerate you keeping things to protect him or not to generate tensions, he wants a healthy and strong relationship.

Z = Zzz (What are some sleeping habits of him?

He can't go to sleep without hos goodnight kiss. How he was used to it from his mother in his childhood and now you are the one who sends him off so he can sleep peacefully. He usually hugs you on his back all night long or looks for you to pull you to his chest, they usually sleep like this and it helps him to rest well.

[hatsukeii]

hiii mootie congrats on the 900!!!

would love to play the guitar ^^,,, i'm thinking a first aid ear mic and a wound-kiss guitar pic.

A little birdie's told me that Denji's my biggest fan <3 (Don't tell the birdie I'm his biggest fan though bc it's a snitch)

("Did it take u this long to come up with something" Shhh shh shhhh... let's focus on u reaching 900 followers 😋🫶🏽 again CONGRATS !!!! u deserve them all mootie ur writing is so yummy ily and your creations)

oooo sick!! the band you've joined is...

kiss it right! / denji x reader

genre(s): fluff + crack!! reader is nonchalant + tired of his bs, denji not so much (he's so annoying your honour i love him i fear...) injury, kiss it better fic! giggles! blushing! kicking my feet like a teenage girl!!

warning(s): injury so blood and pain ig, heavy on the needles because reader is giving him sutures, also ik denji is a bit of a pussy which is a bit ooc but he's supposed to be super weakened after a fight so it makes a little more sense that he's really sensitive to pain here

wc: ~1.1k

your first gig is in... an ambulance?!

setlist:

🎵 someday, the strokes

🎵 calling after me, wallows

🎵 kiss her you fool, kids that fly

"Quit squirming so much, I'm not done yet!"

Denji hates stitches. You know it by the way he wriggles and tenses up with every contact the needle makes with his skin, and how he just refuses to stay still the second he sees the thread of dread. Frustrated, you smack the front of Denji's knee, a signal for him to stay still, but you hit a nerve and his leg jerks up reflexively instead, his shoe coming dangerously close to your chin. You drop the needle and thread in your hand at his sudden movement, and a groan sounds from your throat.

"Shit. Didn’t mean to do that, sorry Denji."

Denji sulks, bottom lip jutting out in an annoyed pout. Everything rattles and shakes as the ambulance rolls past a speed bump, and he almost wishes he was the one unconscious on the stretch instead of Aki. He watches you yank at the end of a spool of thread, and loop it through the head of a new needle. Your tongue pokes out from your pursed lips, holding the needle impossibly close to your face as your pinched fingers jab and poke at it. Your brows furrow in concentration, leading the thread through and tying it in place. When you reach over to grab another alcohol swab, Denji shrugs inwards again, and you take notice of his shift in posture when you turn back to see his legs crossed.

"Denji..."

"Sorry, you know I hate needles." The sole of his sooty sneaker lies on the bloody gash on his shin, and you wipe a film of sweat off your forehead with the back of your forearm.

"You'll give yourself sepsis like that."

"I dunno what that is." He mumbles, head hanging low to watch blood pool out from the torn flesh of his leg. Sepsis. That sounds bad, but not as bad as watching a needle sink into his skin, and come out on the other side.

"C'mon, you trust me, right? I make it better, every time." Denji knows you're right, so he nods, hugging his legs against his chest instead.

"Put the bad leg back down, and let me fix you up, okay?"

The ambulance makes another jolt when he lowers his leg over the edge of the seat. Cold, stinging cotton wipes at the blood that has dried around the gash, and Denji has to grip the seat until his knuckles go white to stop himself from whining. When he sees the needle reappear in your hands, he keeps reminding himself that this could, very well, all be worth the pain in the end. If he's lucky.

You slather numbing cream on the swollen flesh around his gash, before pulling the thread taut in preparation, and aligning the tip of the needle with the bottom of the wound.

"I'm trying to set a personal record, so stay still."

"What's your current record?"

"Minute and a half." You don't look up from the gash when you respond to him, not even as Denji whistles, impressed. You breathe in, eyes darting to the digital clock on the dashboard of the ambulance, and slide the needle through one side of the gash. Denji's leg tenses in his efforts to stay impossibly still, even as the thread runs back and forth through his skin over, and over, and over again. Your eyes squint, face inching closer to his bare shin as you pull the thread tight, and the split flesh comes together with ease. You look at the digital clock again, fingers twisting and tugging quickly to tie off the suture.

"Close, minute and thirty-three. Maybe next time."

When you chuck the needle out into a medical wastebin and look up, Denji is staring down at you, a grin plastered on his face. You roll your eyes as you rip the latex gloves off your clammy hands, sighing out in exasperation. He wiggles his eyebrows, pointing at the stitches on his shin.

"Don't even try."

"But I swear it works!" Denji beams like a puppy seeing its owner for the first time in years. You stand and turn away, pulling the elastic from your hair and letting it fall freely. It covers your red ears, and that's good enough.

"I'm not giving a fresh suture a kiss, Denji."

"You say that every time! I'm sure you've seen worse, right?"

He's right, you have seen worse, but that is the extent of it. Kissing a fresh wound is, quite literally, the textbook definition of immature. And unhygienic. You turn back to look at Denji, who is still pointing at his shin expectantly, and is still pleading with that stupid look on his face. He looks a little too excited for somebody who's just had his leg stitched back together.

"I guess you were good enough today."

Kneeling down again, you meet the sutures on his leg, dried blood gathering around the surface of the thread. You sigh, reaching behind for another alcohol swab, and wipe over the wound once, twice, then a third time. Denji kicks his feet merrily, but stops when his shoe almost hits you in the nose, and you send a piercing glare towards him. Holding his calf with both hands, you bring his shin towards your face, the warm breaths from your nose fanning over his skin.

When you finally, for the first time, press a kiss into Denji's wound, he giggles like a schoolgirl, and you feel a wave of heat rush from your ears to your cheeks.

"If I see you pick the sutures out again like last time, you're never getting another one, you hear me?" You pull the mask that has been sitting on your chin up to your nose, pinching it tight against your nose bridge. The mask conceals half of your face, and Denji sniffs in annoyance when he loses sight of your lips. What neither of you notice is the elastic of the mask pushing your hair behind your ears, and exposing the hot pink tips of them.

"It'll heal twice as quickly now, thanks to that."

"That's not how it works, but sure. Whatever keeps you happy, Denji."

The ambulance comes to a sudden stop, and everything inside jolts forward. You sling Denji's arm around your shoulder, holding him up as he limps off the vehicle and towards the hospital entrance. The wound barely feels like anything. In fact, he could probably walk like normal.

Someday, maybe Denji won't have to ask you to kiss his wounds better. Someday, Denji might even get a kiss without having to get hurt. But for now, Denji thinks that he'll keep pretending that the stitches hurt, so long as it gets you to kiss him.

author's note:

I am acc so ASS at writing full fluff scenarios bc tell me why this was only 1.1k words... I HOPE YOU LIKED IT THO POOKIE!!! i made sure to make denji extra whiny and extra annoying just for u <3 i love him your honour even though he's a little bitch sometimes he's my baby

anyways tags!!

@chuuya-brainrot @staraxiaa @catsoupki @akaakeis @anqelfries @wishi-selfships @fiannee @bailey-reeds @kuroppiii @wyrcan @hiraethwa @stars-tonight

anyways love u guys bye bye see u soon…

[idlingmoons]

daydream x reader

a nice 2.2k words and considerably fluffy, i'd feel! just you getting home from the store and doing laundry with daydream

this is a long one, written for @sockonaleash and @amethystapple - though, it was a lot longer than i had expected to write! this one will be under the cut as not to take up so much space unless you do wish to read it :)

You set down your groceries and fumble with the keys to your apartment. 

Thankfully, you don’t drop them. Your hands aren’t that sweaty enough for them to slip from your fingers, even with all the carefulness you could muster. The sweltering heat is beginning to calm down, easing into a more tolerable weather. Walking outside for a few minutes—to the nearest grocery store, no less—no longer makes your back awfully damp, which you are thankful for. 

You are somewhat out of breath, and you know that you have to walk more, as you make you rest against the door for a bit. You manage to press your key into the lock and jiggle it to make sure it’s fully inside. There, you turn it and push the door open, stepping back to snag your fingers on the plastic bag of the groceries before you make your way inside. None of it is heavy, it is only the weight of the vegetables you finally promised yourself to buy sitting at the bottom of it, as well as the other meats you reluctantly added.

Well, you bought it for Daydream.

She wouldn’t stop fussing about your eating habits. As much as you wanted to eat the same few foods over and over again, she insisted on having a variety of foods. Something about nutrients. You were paying attention, really! It’s just a bit hard to focus on that when Daydream’s right there, worrying over you. It’s the sort of attention that you find yourself indulging in, and that’s how she convinced you to even go and buy groceries.

Speaking of the lovely animatronic himself, a few soft steps could be heard from inside. His shoes were placed neatly by the side of the door, so as to “not track dirt inside of the house” though he rarely went outside. You usually would have him accompany you, but this was a quick trip that you had been putting off after you caved into Daydream’s suggestions. Now that it’s finally over with, you shove off your shoes by the heels so that you don’t have to untie the laces, and nudge them with your socks so that they’re next to Daydream’s shoes.

“My dearest, welcome home,” he greeted, bowing only his head. You had to break him out of the habit of doing one of those full-body bows, which was too much and too formal for someone like you. You wanted to be close to him, and breaking those habits was one of the first ideas you had to make him feel more comfortable. Anything to do to make him understand that this place was safe for him. Bowing his head was alright, for now.

You might be smitten with him. And, well, Daydream certainly is with you as he pulls himself out of his bow to come slightly closer. His mouth, or more so his teeth, press against your forehead.

The kiss doesn’t catch you off guard, although you do pause to savor the soft gesture. He’s been doing it in the past few weeks and you’re sure that every time you look up at him, something in his expression is more cheeky. It’s clear that he relishes in your reaction, and he gently takes the plastic bags in your hands while you’re looking at him distractedly.

His eyes light up a little, or you think they do. You want to save up so that you can buy him some new features to make him expressive. It’s something he hasn’t told you outright, but you’ve sometimes seen him stare in the mirror and trace his hands over his face. You have seen the way that his fingers ghost his own mouth through a crack in the door, and the unmistakable yearning that no one—let alone animatronics—should have to suffer through.

It makes you want to do more for him.

Daydream pulls you out of your reverie with a noise of approval, something he must have picked up around the humans of his past. 

(You would say owners, but then it’d lump you in with them, and something like guilt has its clutches on your heart and squeezes tightly. You don’t want to own Daydream. You want him to be himself.)

The bluish purple moon’s hands were taking out the vegetables, gracefully taking out the bag of potatoes to move them into the fridge with ease. While you didn’t struggle too much with carrying them, you’re sure that it must be quite light for the animatronic. “My sweet star, you bought what I asked you to,” he murmured, a pleased look gracing his features.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” you manage to say. Your throat feels oddly dry in her presence.

His eyes flickered to yours, as if to make sure you were looking at him, and you cannot help it as his gaze pulled you in. It is most likely because of the smile she sends your way; while it is her default expression, something about this one seems softer and more genuine. Your eyes linger on his faceplate, and certainly his mouth, although you are far too embarrassed about it. Even then, you notice he is certainly appreciative that you are listening to his suggestions. You stare long after he looks away, putting the food in their respective places.

Daydream isn’t looking at you while he asks his next question, neatly storing some carrots and what looks like cauliflower, and it makes you want to pull him away from his task. You don’t. “How was your trip to the store? Do you feel more comfortable going by yourself, my sweet?”

This is his way of checking in on you, and you’re fond of it. But, it is the store, of all things: unremarkable and nerve wracking for you at the same time.

“Yeah… yeah,” you say, and any other words die on your lips. You want to say more.

In the quiet that stretches after your response, you move closer to watch her movements. Practiced, but relaxed. It was no longer like a taut string, like the first few times she helped to restock the fridge. That’s when you notice that the dryer you had been running from over an hour ago, and surely was still running when you left home, had gone silent.

You almost considered waiting for the animatronic to finish, but the quietness was getting to you and turning on some music wouldn’t be necessary—at least for this task. “Daydream, did you take my… uh, our clothes, out of the dryer?” you ask.

He’s not looking at you, still focused on his task. Even then, you know you have his attention. 

“Yes, I did, my dear,” he answered, putting the last of the groceries into the fridge. He folds the plastic bag and walks over to open the cabinet door under the kitchen sink, putting it there neatly. You know that he has quite the organized set up, and you’ll look in it later to get a good grasp of what he put where. He does all of these things that he doesn’t have to and, while you’re happy about not having to do them, it’s the fact that it’s Daydream doing it that makes you bite the inside of your cheek.

You’re not sure when he glanced at your direction, but you stop biting as Daydream sends you a look of disapproval. He knows what you’re doing, and he’s scolded you a few times for picking at the skin of your nails. Harmful habits that he wants you to get rid of. It feels hypocritical, when you’re trying to stop his. “You know you didn’t have to do that, right?” 

Her head swivels toward you, a faint jingle of her hat following the action.

She stands upright, hands clasped a little. “It is only right if I do so,” she says, and you know you’ve had this conversation with her several times over. You’ve insisted again and again that she doesn’t have to, and you’ve seen him make some progress in not doing every single chore you can think of, but this seems to be one of the few things that he refuses to let go of. “Taking the laundry out of the dryer is simple.”

You’re going to have to come up with another approach. Since asking her to stop hasn’t fully worked, since it’s not detrimental to either of you, you need to work around it instead. You lean against the counter in thought.

“You know, we should fold our clothes together,” you try, and the animatronic’s eyes bore into yours. It feels ridiculous that you have to fight to fold your own clothes.

“You do not have to if you do not wish to.” Daydream has a curious lilt in his voice.

“Well, I asked. Well, offered to. It’s something that I want to do.”

“Folding clothes is simple, and it would be more efficient for me to do it alone. You can use your time for something else.” You don’t want to get frustrated with her, and this is such a small thing. You sigh, refusing to resign yourself to her words. “Daydream, I want to fold clothes with you. Please.” You struggle to come up with something, and your fingers tap against the counter as you try to reign yourself in. “I want to spend time with you. I wouldn’t offer it if I didn’t want to. I’m not doing this just to be polite. So, can I please please fold clothes with you?”

These sorts of things are not something you want to get angry with her for, even if you have to beg her a little. She must have been impacted by her past experiences, or coded to act this way, or both—something along those lines. You don’t want to pry.

She looks you over, eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of your tapping and the way you hold yourself. She wipes away whatever expression she has on her face, seemingly relenting now and nodding a little without a word. You can only hope that she knows you’re not in any way mad with her. Why would you be? You don’t normally get angry over things like this.

“C’mon, let’s go fold clothes together. Where are they?” You push yourself off the counter, and you watch as he briskly moves to your side.

Daydream’s eyes flick to yours. “In your room, as a majority of them are yours. They are still in the hamper. I was going to fold them before you returned, little wishing star, but you came sooner than I expected,” he answers as the two of you begin to make your way to your room. 

“I wanted to get home quickly to see you,” you remark, and you can see the way her smile ticks upward ever so slightly.

The two of you walk to your room, and she soon follows behind you. You move out of the way once you’re inside of your room, and there you can see the hamper that you’ve been using to collect all of your clothes. Daydream is already near the hamper, and you can tell that she’s more than likely going to sit on a chair and just fold the clothes from there. That won’t do, especially since the clothes are fresh out of the dryer.

You quickly take the sides of the hamper and dump it onto your bed before she even has the chance to pick up one article of clothing.

Impulsivity hits you and you end up crawling right on top of all the warm clothes. It smells like the laundry detergent you use, a refreshing and soft smell that makes you happy that you buy that specific brand of detergent. You’re sure it was lavender, but what you’re more focused on is the warmth of the pile. While it smells great and all, the heat of the clothes makes you want to laze around like a cat in the sunlight.

“Is this your way of helping, darling?” he leans down to ask, voice lower. He’s smiling again, another one of those genuine smiles, and you can tell that he’s downright amused by you. You’re glad that he feels safe enough to feel like that.

“Yeah, yeah it is.”

She moves to sit next to the pile of clothes on the bed, her dress ruffling a little as she does so, and you’re still sprawled all over on the pile of clothes. You can see how close she is to you, and her smile becomes something a lot smaller and softer. The way she leans in to you isn’t something you’re expecting, and it feels a lot more intimate. It’s as if she was about to tell you a secret she’s told no one else.

You move to sit up a little on your horde of clothing, head lifting. “Daydream?” 

He shushes you and moves his faceplate right against your cheek. Another kiss of his, but this time it feels different. You can feel the plastic of his teeth and the silicone parts of his face against your skin. One of his hands reaches up to hold your head to keep it in place, and your ears vaguely register a faint buzz.

“Thank you for helping me with the laundry then, my fantasy.”

[sugarushwriting]

frat boy heeseung x you part 4….(okay and final part but tysm for the love!!!)

it’s gonna be short sorry. short and sweet!!!!

sfw but maybe nsfw? no full on scenes but more like innuendos and assumptions

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

3 months.

11 weeks and 3 days.

80 days.

that’s how long heeseung has last seen your face. well, he’s seen in you class, but that’s it. he hasn’t interacted with you. not because he doesn’t want to but because you won’t let him.

you left him and last interacted with him on a sunday at the close to end of october. it’s now the second week of january, and he’s finally seeing you up close and personal.

leaving jays room.

“what. the. fuck.” was all heeseung could spit out seeing you dressed in one of jays shirts and pajama pants.

your eyes went wide. you thought heeseung was still visiting his parents for winter break.

“heeseung, oh, um, you’re home.” you smiled weakly.

“seems you got your wish to fuck one of my brothers.” heeseung spat.

your eyes narrowed. “i did not fuck jay, heeseung. just because you didn’t make a promise, remember i did?”

heeseung’s eyes squinted. “liar.”

“am not!” you argued like a child.

“hi heeseung.” jay greeted coming into the hallway. “morning eunjin.” jay kissed your forehead.

“jay!” you squealed. “don’t make this worse!”

“he already thinks we’ve fucked,” jay pouted, “why didn’t you play along?”

“so childish, you two.” you groaned, and went past both boys down to the kitchen.

turning on the coffee pot, your back was turned to both as they spoke like you weren’t there.

“why is she here? why was she in your room?”

jay smirked. “bitter and jealous much?”

heeseung narrowed his eyes, “now is not the time to fuck around.”

heeseung couldn’t believe when you left, he’d never talk to you personally or see you again up close. he’s tried texting you, calling you, asking his friends, and cornering you around campus. but you always found your way to either ignore him or leave his hold.

since you and lara had vowed to stay away from frat parties for the remainder of last semester, he hasn’t seen you at one.

the boys knew you leaving heeseung alone was your choice. for your own sake.

heeseung didn’t know although you left, you kept your promise. you didn’t fuck around with anyone else, because he truthfully ruined them for you.

however, heeseung continued to be his usual self when he noted you were ignoring him. he just slept with girls less often, but still stuck to the one rule. and since you, he’s never let another girl in his bed.

“i wanted to have sex, but she doesn’t.” jay pouted fakely . you narrowed your eyes at him to shut up. “ugh, you’re lucky she’s loyal to you even though you weren’t loyal to her.” jay wasn’t actually upset you wouldn’t sleep with him.

“he doesn’t need to be loyal to me, we were never together.” you stated in a low whisper but heeseung heard you.

“eunjin—,”

“it’s okay heeseung, no need to explain yourself.” you said and kept your back turned to both guys.

behind your back jay was signaling heeseung to keep talking while you were downstairs before you retreated back to jays room.

heeseung kept trying to get your attention but you ignored him. “fuck this.” he said and you found yourself flipped over his shoulder, your face coming to contact with his lower back.

“heeseung!” you squealed, but he kept walking back up the stairs to his room.

“don’t be too loud!” jay yelled after you both.

you huffed in annoyance when heeseung threw you on his bed, and he quickly hovered over you, not necessarily putting his entire weight on you. but with both his arms on either side of your shoulders, you were trapped under him.

“heeseung,” you began but stopped short when he nuzzled his nose into your neck. “now is not the time to seduce me!”

“why not?” he mumbled. “i missed you.”

“if you missed me so much you wouldn’t have had sex with other girls!”

heeseung lifted his head so he could look into your eyes. “you’re the one who ignored me!”

“and for my own good! i knew you wasn’t going to change for me. i wasn’t going to let my heart be broken by you.”

“instead you broke my heart.” heeseung pouted.

“your heart or your ego?” you challenged.

heeseung shut his mouth and was silenced.

you scoffed, “of course. i hurt your ego because i ghosted you before you could ghost me.” you were not only mad at heeseung but yourself.

how dare you let him ruin other guys for you? you knew for a fact jake probably would be more than happy to get you to bed.

jay as well, since he would be your first pick. although he wasn’t actually upset you wouldn’t sleep with him, you knew if you brought it up, he would jump at the chance.

there was a reason older women liked jay and jake and always thought they would make great sons in laws. so why the fuck did you have to have a crush on heeseung?

“what’s going through that head of yours?” heeseung asked as he tapped your forehead.

“whether or not if i should fuck jay or jake first.” you joked, but sort of not joked.

heeseung didn’t like that. “don’t even think about it. it’s neither. and you won’t fuck sunghoon either.”

“and whys that?”

“like you said, i ruined other guys for you, including my own frat brothers.” heeseung chuckled. “whether you like it or not, my dick will be the only one you come around.” he whispered into your ear sending you chills.

you wanted to push him off of you but he was too strong.

“i don’t like you wearing men clothes that aren’t mine.” heeseung spat and tugged on the pants you was wearing that belong to jay. he smoothly took them off your legs, smiling in joy at your purple underwear. “now the shirt.”

“i don’t have anything underneath, heeseung.”

“even better.” he said and went to take the shirt off but you pushed his hand away.

“absolutely not.” you scolded.

“fine.” he rolled his eyes and went to the band of your underwear. “i’ve missed your sweet cunt.”

no time to argue or debate, you bit your tongue instead when heeseung position himself between your legs, pulling your underwear to the side, and wasting no time devouring your sweet cunt with his lips, tongue and teeth.

you missed this. you hate to admit but you missed this.

in no time either, heeseung had you withering underneath him, you dripping onto the sheets below. you bit your lip to keep quiet to respect jays poor ears.

“im going to fuck you now.” he stated and that he did. like the last time, it was hard, rough and fast. his hips meeting yours to fast thrusts, skin slapping, low moans from the both of you. heeseung buried himself deep in your cunt as much as you could and would take him.

he wanted this to last as long as possible, but he couldn’t keep denying you both of an orgasm. you came on his cock as he quickly pulled out stroking himself twice to come on your thigh.

you both laid on your backs on the bed, chasing your breaths. heeseung soon got up to go to his bathroom and came back with a warm washcloth to clean you up.

“such a gentleman.” you teased.

heeseung laughed and kissed you once on the lips. “come on, let’s go shower.”

“together?”

“of course. save water and all that.”

“are we about to have shower sex?” you asked with a groan.

“yes. yes we are.” heeseung lifted you up with ease and carried you to the bathroom.

you knew you should run away, far away. there were other guys out there that would be more loyal to you, right?

but internally you didn’t care. right now you had heeseungs attention and that’s all that mattered.

heeseung stood between your open legs as you sat on the counter waiting for the water to heat up.

heeseung gave you quick pecks on the lips, once, twice, three times before kissing both of your cheeks.

“be prepared to not be able to walk again.”

“please don’t.” you begged. “i like being able to walk away from you when i need to.”

“even more reason for me to make sure you’re too sore to walk.”

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

[stormyelliotwritez]

walk with me…

ftm reader who has been in love with logan for years but he thinks logan is straight and also logan like wont stop being in love with jean and is absolutely OBLIVIOUS that r likes him.. (literally all the other x men know) and honestly this can be like super angsty or just silly idc whatever the vibe u best think works

im gonna somehow go with mostly angst coz thats my fav so here goes

tw for gender dysphoria related to wanting to fit logan’s so called type

BUT HE’S STRAIGHT?

Logan was staring at Jean again. This was like the fifth time just this staff meeting. You weren’t sure how much longer you could take this. Maybe Charles would let you go lay down if you faked a fever but maybe he’d do the whole psychic thing and realize you were fine.

You sat through the rest of the meeting and then left quickly, feeling like a loser. It’s been years and he still hasn’t noticed you. He’s always staring at Jean who’s literally been in love with Scott since they met. Why won’t he stare at you? How the fuck is he straight? But alas, he is.

You walked to your room, tugging at your shirt and wishing it would fit better. Maybe he’d have noticed you if you weren’t a boy, if you’d stayed what you’d been born as. Maybe if you were still her, he’d think you were cute. Maybe he’d look at you how he looked at Jean.

You slammed your door shut and clambered onto your bed, curling up into a ball. You stayed there, just thinking, until eventually you fell asleep.

In the morning, you got up and after showering and getting dressed, you threw on the jacket you’d stolen from Logan a few months ago, the one with the school’s logo. Maybe he wouldn’t notice. It’s not like he ever noticed you.

You went about your day, bumping into Scott who made a faux growl sound like Logan’s to tease you and then bumping into Hank who sniffed your jacket and then applauded you on managing to steal from Logan. Later in the day, you ran head first into Storm, when you were trying to avoid Logan, and she glanced at him and then meowed at you teasingly. You’d swear on someone’s grave that the only person who didn’t know about your years old crush was the man himself, Logan.

You managed to avoid Logan all day until… dinner. He was sitting opposite the spot you always sat in. He was sitting there. Why was he sitting there was a question you couldn’t answer. You tugged at your jumper while holding your plate with one hand and you walked over to him.

“Logan,” you said with a nod.

“Bub,” he said back before looking you over.

He didn’t say anything about the jacket. He just sat there and ate his dinner and then stood up. He walked around to your side and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Nice jacket, bub.”

He then walked off, just like that.

What the fuck? What the actual fuck? He didn’t know though. He would know about your ridiculous crush if he was listening to your heartbeat right now. Oh my god, so he knew you’d stolen it but he couldn’t put the damn pieces together?

You finished your dinner and walked off. You were halfway to your room when someone grabbed your hand and pulled you into an empty classroom. The door was slammed and you were disoriented in the dark.

“You like me, bub?”

That was Logan’s voice. Wait, he knew? How? But…

“Come on, I ain’t got all day,” he said abruptly.

You nodded. You were quite sure he could see in the dark and the scoff he made seemed to say so. How could you have been so stupid? He was probably going to hate you now. He was straight. He’d always been straight and in love with Jean. He was oblivious. He’d always been oblivious. He could never like you. You weren’t a girl, no matter how hard you wanted to still be one so he’d like you. Your heart was racing and soon enough, you were hyperventilating.

His hands were on your shoulders and you were being pulled into a hug, a hug that smelt of wood and fuel. He was hugging you?

“It’s okay, I got you, bub,” he placed a light kiss on your forehead, “I swing both ways, you know.”

You’d always hated that he was still taller than you, one of the downsides of not getting on T until your 20’s and- wait, what? He swings both ways?

“You-you do?” You said once your breathing had slowed.

He nodded. You couldn’t see it but you could feel it. He could like you… as you, as a man? You didn’t have to be someone else? You could just be you.

“Yep, now let’s go. I think there’s two beers calling our names in the teacher’s lounge,” he said before opening the door and pulling you out of the classroom. “Jean mentioned your little crush and now I gotta hear all about how you’ve been pining for me for years.”

Curse you, Jean, but thanks, was all you could think as you just nodded and walked with him to the teachers lounge.

[wormdevourer]

decided to show toji some love with a list of headcanons today <3

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

Toji Fushiguro Headcanons

As a friend:

-Toji lets you brush his hair, paint his nails, and decorate his hair with pretty bows - but only you.

-When you call Toji ‘bestie’, he loves it a lot - although he doesn’t understand the word fully.

-Whenever Toji trains with you, he can’t help but notice how admirable your skills are. He watches so much that he doesn’t even notice how he’s staring…

-He likes to go everywhere with you - partly to protect you, and partly to enjoy your presence.

-He goes shopping with you, but you always end up paying for him. He’s broke, after all…

-He owes you like $200 at this point, but he’s too stubborn to repay you.

-He tries his best to spoil you on your birthday with the money he has.

-Toji is the funniest to text. This man doesn’t understand emojis at all.

-His favorite season is summer, because then he gets to see you more when he’s usually off of work.

-The two of you like to work out together <3

-He loves when you take him out for food (because he’s broke and also because he likes hanging out with you). He prefers when you pay for things, for obvious reasons…but his favorite foods to get with you are ramen, egg rolls, and boba.

As a lover:

-He absolutely loves cuddles. But he loves you more.

-Let’s just say that his love is very…rough. He’s not a naturally soft or gentle person.

-It’s not a coping sort of love where you remind him of his late wife, but instead it’s a more comforting feeling that he uses to move forward. He loves you now, and he accepts that his first wife is gone. What I’m trying to say is that your relationship isn’t unhealthy like that. (Sorry if that doesn’t make sense 💀)

-He wakes you up by either laying right on top of you or giving you gentle forehead kisses until your eyes flutter open and you see him leaning over you with that cute, sleepy smirk of his.

-He’d gladly spoil you with possessions if he had the money, so instead he spoils you with affection.

-When he gets flustered, he either completely shuts down and won’t respond or he pouts and acts annoyed (he’s not, he loves the attention).

-He loves it when you give him soft headpats and tap him on the nose, but he’ll never admit it.

-He really likes cuddling in warm blankets. He just likes being warm <3

-Pet names he uses for you range from ‘sweetheart’, ‘my lovely’, or ‘honey’. He barely calls you by your actual name, he prefers pet names <3

As a coworker:

-He very highly admires your fighting skills. Although he’s certain he’s better than you (he’s cocky, what can I say?) he still recognizes the talent within you.

-You two often train together, and although Toji usually works alone, he keeps you by his side 24/7.

-He gave you the weapon you use as a birthday present. He even signed it for you.

-Because of the nature of Toji’s work, the two of you often bounce from hotel to hotel to prepare for missions. But usually, it’s cheaper to just book the one bed~

-Toji is also your personal healer (not in a medical sense, but he patches you up the best he can after missions), as well as your protector. He always watches after you, but not because he’s doubting your skills - he simply finds you more precious than anything else.

-He has you in his phone as ‘Nuisance 💕’.

-When you two are lying in (the same) bed in a hotel before a mission, you notice that he sleeptalks and kicks in his sleep. It’s kind of cute but really funny…once, you caught him mumbling ‘who’s Megumi?’ in his sleep. That wasn’t as funny.

-Speaking of Megumi, he never brings up his son around you unless you ask. Even then, he avoids the subject. Deep down, he feels guilty for abandoning him, but he knows that it was necessary at that time. Yet, some part of him wishes to meet his son now…

[im-poe-dameron]

restless & reckless love

a/n: this is a small drabble i threw together because i wanted to participate in the @sithobiwanevent! i saw the prompt list and knew that a few of them had my attention immediately. they aren't going to be intensely long fics, but nontheless i had quite a bit of fun getting to delve into a version of obi-wan i hope to write more about soon. a massive thank you to @karasong who was my writing buddy for these fics!

sith!obi-wan events: disheveled obi-wan

summary: the death of obi-wan kenobi occurred on mustafar near ten years ago. giving birth to the sith you watched train with a reckless passion that should have terrified you.

word count: 2k

pairing: sith!obi-wan kenobi x sith!reader

warnings: not explicit, disheveled and slightly feral obi-wan, grief, angst, anakin's death, he suffers from ptsd, choking, passionate kissing.

Energy crackled in the air like sparks from a wildfire that held no intention of being tamed. You felt him before you entered the clearing. The night air lay upon your cloaked figure with a thickness that left you gasping for air. Humidity wasn't your fondest type of weather, yet the planet seemed to thrive off the warm air—even as it choked you mercilessly.

The familiar glow of red illuminated the darkened space; his body lithe and quick with each practiced step. A dance you'd grown fond of watching each night before you were confined to your separate bunks. Whether he knew you stood in the shadows—eyes fixed on the sweat that glistened off his body—or remained oblivious to your ogling, made no difference.

He still clung to you without knowing.

Buried himself in your chest with each swipe of his lightsaber; teeth bared as a nonexistent fight played out in his mind. A battle he'd yet to explain to you.

The grief in his eyes wasn't in part to the yellow iris that flashed with a depth you'd never before witnessed in another of your kind. This was horrific pain. A break that split him down the center, crushing the Jedi that once existed in the realms of his mind.

Before he took on the name of Darth, the role befit for a king, he was one of the greats. Legends were told of his ferocity, of his strength. You'd heard a few yourself on nights when the alcohol ran a bit too strong and his lips grew lax; the lazy grin he wore feeding your borderline obsession with each aspect of his beauty.

You knew Obi-Wan Kenobi through words only.

The man who stood alone, battling demons he'd yet to explain to you, was not him.

A snarl ripped from his throat, blade slicing the ground as he swung it with a spin—his black robes gliding along the floor and kicking up dust. His hair was a mess atop his head. Stuck to his forehead as he fought the villain with no name. An antagonist of his past that rose up in the back of his mind and made him reckless.

Yet you knew the name with a clarity that shocked you. After months spent on the ground, you heard his screams in the middle of the night. The nightmares that only fueled his anger.

Anakin.

He begged for forgiveness for the death of a man you assumed to be his brother. A man who no matter how hard you searched...never seemed to exist at all. He remained a part of the past. Lost in the darkness of a Sith who already gave too much. Who had nothing left for you to take. He remained shattered beyond repair—a broken man who wasn't worth saving.

You supposed that's where he was mistaken.

Saving him was never part of your agenda. You didn't wish to put his pieces back together. Not when they forged the power that ran through his veins; the strength you felt singe the air around you in strength you could only dream of holding. You were kindred souls lost to a path of darkness that beckoned you forward with awaiting arms.

Two unkind souls who were twisted up and bent past the point of salvaging.

Two hearts that beat an unsteady rhythm. Yet together formed something whole.

A raw look of unhinged greed crossed his face, flashing in his eyes as he finally met your unwavering gaze. Something flickered in the air between you. A whip finally brought down to crack against the solid ground below. You felt it rupture in your chest; smothering any doubts that lingered below the surface of who you belonged to.

Who you would be sharing your night with.

"Hiding isn't what I expected of you," he spoke, voice hoarse and low.

You barely caught it through the murky air—your ears strained. When the words settled in your chest, you felt the flip of your heart beneath the layers of fabric. There was no need for him to raise his voice when you stood mere feet away. A soft caress only gifted to you in times he felt the darkness begin to wane on his soul; the spark of light resurfacing after so long.

Drowning it never helped when it once poured out of his soul. He could submerge it day in and day out, but the fact still remained that he would have to choose the darkness. He'd have to battle to keep it in his heart the longer time went on.

Most Jedi gave in with ease. You know you did. But you supposed that's what made him so different.

Obi-Wan Kenobi still remained, screaming for a way out, as the Sith that stood in his place locked him away.

"You looked as if you wanted to be alone."

He ran a hand through his hair, chest heaving as he struggled to maintain the composure that usually came so naturally. By far he remained the most collected Sith you would ever see. How he handled himself—understanding what his limits were—became a source of knowledge for you to feed off of.

Somehow he was able to use the teaching of the Jedi and form his new belief around it. You wondered if you'd ever get to witness him like this. Disheveled, creeping along the edge of unhinging his sanity entirely. His face remained a mask of control. However, his eyes told a different story entirely.

They flashed with a fury you felt bleed into the air—seeping into your skin and agitating the anger you fought to keep at bay. Whether he remained aware of his affect on your mind continued to be a mystery. The walls of his fortress—his thoughts and emotions—was built so tall you held no hope in climbing over. Which left you with only one singular option.

Asking him to tell you.

"I rarely wish to be alone when it comes to you darling."

The name settled in your heart with a whisper of power. A promise yet to be fulfilled, but one you knew would come with time. The both of you were aware of where this kinship would lead. Where the path lay carved in stone ahead of you.

As it was written in the Force.

So it would be done.

"Why don't you speak about him?" you asked, cautiously entering the area—wary of how he tensed. Already on the edge of snapping.

He glared at you, eyes flashing dangerously with a look you'd seen countless times before. Usually your position was replaced with an enemy about to meet their death by the fierce swing of his lightsaber. You prepared yourself for the blow, waiting with baited breath as he struggled to hold back the sneer that almost crossed his face.

Instead, he chose to pacify himself with a brushed off lie. "I don't know who you are referring to."

This you could accept. This was the man you'd grown accustomed to over the years. The person who hid his past for the sake of his own sanity; to keep from flying off the cliff and into an unhinged feral nothingness most Sith resided in. Their greed to fill the emptiness in their souls more often than not led to their demise.

He was far too controlled for that.

Far too proud.

"You scream for someone named Anakin," you admitted, watching his body shudder as the forbidden truth was finally spoken aloud. "You can tell me. I won't speak of him again-"

The quick flick of his hand rising threw you off guard. But the sharp tug at the Force clamping down around your throat forced you to gasp for air that wasn't there. He dragged you forward with a silent malice that burrowed into your bones.

Cold leather pressed tight along your throat, his face mere inches from your own. You struggled to tamp down your fear—the streak of anxiety that spilled out in the Force around you. At least then you could stand on your own two feet and face him head on. The smile that split across his lips was proof enough that your attempt failed drastically; his touch loosening as your eyes flicked down to his mouth.

"You won't speak of him now," he spit, leaning close enough for you to smell the heady scent of his sweat.

Leather ran along your bottom lip, the acrid taste of burnt soil met your tongue. Rather than flinch, you found yourself leaning into his touch. The ache of more twisting your stomach in knots that would never be undone. This was the binding fate that cost the both of you your past lives.

Finding him on Mustafar wasn't by happenstance. You knew that now.

"My darling," he murmured, eyes dropping to see the way his thumb pressed against your lip, pulling at it slowly. "So interested in what you cannot have."

A soft sound fell from your throat, deepening his smile. You didn't want to admit that he was indeed right. The relationship with him had fanned the flames of something unreachable. A title you wanted him to bestow upon you with the same fiery need that burned a hole through your heart.

"I want..." you sighed, eyes dazed and body trembling in his grasp.

"I know what you want." His hand slid up to your cheek, drawing you close enough to smell the soft undercurrent of molten lava that seemed to stick with him. A permanent reminder of where Obi-Wan Kenobi died and the Darth was reborn. "You may have it. If you wish."

Swallowing thickly, you clutched at his robes. "I wish."

What little breath you had trapped in your lungs was punched from your chest when his lips met yours. The once unforgiving heat of the fire licked at your body with a warmth that settled deep in your heart. His lips were soft. Yet unforgiving in nature. He kissed you as a way to consume. Never a gift of passion, but a greedy inkling he finally grasped to quiet that curious part of his mind.

Delving your hands into the back of his robes, you flung yourself into his arms—tongue slipping past his parted mouth to taste him directly. To lick into his awaiting mouth with a soft moan that made his inside quake. He clutched you close—hands gripping your hips through the layers—a soft groan of pleasure meeting your sighed whimpers.

"Tell me," he rasped, hand clutching your chin to draw you back. "The truth."

Heat flushed against your chest, dripping down to the tips of your fingers. You felt him through the Force. Once overbearing—near terrifying—now became a welcome weight against your body. A reminder that though you knew his past, you'd never know the full extent of his powers. Those were trapped with the last embers of who he used to be; a man you'd never meet.

"I am yours my lord," you whispered.

A vow unspoken, now solidified for all eternity.

You would never be able to take it back; he knew this.

Rarely do Sith bind themselves to another. Master and Apprentice remain the only two. But there you stood—willing the tie yourself to him until your dying breath. The bright yellow dimmed from his iris, a soft cerulean blue flickering to life as the part of him that loved—that lost—rose to the surface. The man who would inevitably one day return.

His lips were a gentle press to your jaw. You allowed your head to fall back, a sigh of bliss echoing in the air as he worked his way back to your mouth. His hands clutching at what he always yearned for.

What he believed he was owed after giving so much.

"As am I."

[soaps-mohawk]

i will square up in defence of you and of omega any day. you’re writing is wonderful and beautiful and i stay up late on saturday nights just to read the new chapter (timezones. whoo.)

AND FOR OMEGA. she has been conditioned into seeing herself as less. as nothing more than someone for alphas to breed and use. not a person but an object. throw on the absolute trauma of being ripped away from her mother while presenting and being highly vulnerable, and then the conditioning including what surmounts to torture in order to condition her. so of course she’s afraid of being rejected by her pack, of course one of if not THE greatest motivators for her is fear. she may be loved but she is also terrified even if there weren’t cameras hidden in her room.

such a clear indication of the lack of reading comprehension skills because it is so so clear that her fight or flight response is always going to be freeze or flee. because she was psychologically conditioned to be that way. to lose her fight, what little she had to begin with. to submit (freeze) or shrink away (flee).

- char / vgilantee

Timezones are so weird. I can always have the chapter come out even earlier if the people on the other side of the world would like. I have it post around 5 am my time (Pacific time) but I can make it earlier if y'all don't want to stay up late since I can just schedule the chapters now...let me know

Anyway you're exactly right. She went through a lot of trauma in her childhood and then presenting as an omega only added onto that, with how her father reacted to it. Then she was sent to a place that conditioned her to think of herself as an object, as having nothing more than what she can offer others that have more power over her (socially, mentally, genetically, instinctually). Omegas aren't weak by any means, but society wants them to think that because it's definitely an analogy of patriarchal society and how those with mental health disorders have been and still are treated.

If you don't understand that...then I suggest both some introspection and some practice in critical thinking and media literacy.

But you're absolutely right. Omegas by default are always going to try and flee. If that's not possible then it's freeze and that's where distress comes in. It's that sort of last ditch effort for survival before things get dangerous and that fight instinct comes out in their true omega form (which they often won't survive due to the stress it puts on the body). All of which are very valid forms of stress responses. I'm a freeze person myself 🤷‍♀️ it's not really something you can change unless you're trained to do so.

Thank you for this though. I really appreciate everyone coming to the defense of my sweet baby angel 'mega. Thankfully not many have misunderstood her and the few that have came from a place of ignorance as well as a lack of analysis and media literacy skills.

[shannonsketches]

he's so important to me