#t birds x reader

[mixedupmelody]

tough guy.

notes: someone needs to seriously make an effort to bruise these guys' ego a little. the t-birds in GENERAL need to come with a warning sign saying "Will Not Show Affection in Public".

contains: danny zuko x gender neutral reader , kenickie murdoch x female reader

characters: danny zuko, kenickie murdoch, t-birds and pink ladies (briefly mentioned)

warnings: swearing, suggestive themes and dialouge

. ☁️ .

꒰ danny. ꒱

“ 'S cool with me, baby. ” Danny holds a hand around your waist, taking care not to look into your eyes. God, he could stare at them for hours. He'd live a happy life if all he ever saw was those eyes. But he can't look at you. Not now. The T-Birds stare at him, almost as if they were waiting on their leader to slip up and say something cheesy. “ I'll see you after school, beautiful. ”

You press a quick kiss to his lips, before walking off to your next class. You knew his status meant something to him, and weren't trying to put him in an annoying spot with his friends. Danny's shoulders relax as you walk off, eyes trailing after you as if he could keep you next to him with his mind.

Danny is the leader of the T-Birds, so he's held to a somewhat higher standard than the rest of the guys. Out of all of them, he's suppossed to be the most macho, the most hard-headed, and the most gutsy member all into one. In between all the turf wars and fights at school, he's the face of their gang that let's everyone know he means business.

And then you came along. You managed to break through his tough exterior and unlock a sweeter, more sensitive side of him. He couldn't help but feel like a total melvin each time he dressed up nice to bring you flowers, or when he put his best efforts into not getting fresh with you when you invited him to your place to study after school.

To him, it's all worth it. Just seeing that smile on your face is enough to keep him going through the exhaustion he feels trying to keep his pure, romantic advancements under wraps.

꒰ kenickie. ꒱

Kenickie's hand reaches dangerously close to your ass as you sit with him at The Frosty Palace. As the T-Birds and Pink Ladies chat at their shared booth, Kenickie made sure to show off that he was a certified ladies man. And what better way to show that than messing around with his girl while they ate?

“ If these jokers keep this shitty conversation up, i'll just have to take ya' home for some real fun. ” You could tell he was practically working overtime tonight. With all those notes you left in his lunch, you were more than sure he was trying to make up the jokes he was subjected to. It's not that he really cared what the guys would think, they knew he would knock them out before they had the chance to flap their gums for too long, but it was a matter of dignity!

Kenickie Murdouch would rather die than let the guys think he's gone soft. He's a rockin', smooth talkin' rebel who's all bark. At least, until he started going steady with you. He feels all mixed up, wanting to treat you nice while also having to be on the look out for the other T-Birds.

God forbid you ever give him a tender kiss in front of his friends at school, or make him quiet a quick "i love you too" when you part ways in the halls. The guys will rip on him for as long as Kenickie will take it, making obnoxious kissing noises and jokingly threaten to take his second-in-command spot.

If they push him too far, he'll switch right back into greaser mode, and threaten to knock the living daylights out of them. They shut up quickly after that.

There's been at least one instance where you and Kenickie were on a date at The Frosty Palace, sharing a milkshake. As you two are talking, he laughs, slamming his hand on the table, and the milkshake splashes on the tip of his nose. When you go to clean his face for him, the other T-Birds barge in through those glass doors. It almost feels unreal how accurate their timing is. You hear a chorus of "oooo!"s as you clean his face, trying your best to calm your boyfriend down before he loses his cool.

You don't see his walls go down often, even when you're by yourselves. Give him time.

[simping-ella]

Could I request a dating Gil headcannon? No one writes for him and he’s such a sweetheart

I love Gil he's such a cutie

----------------------------------------------------------

Gil Rizzo Dating Hcs

-Gil always has his arm around your shoulders or around your waist

-Taking you on long drives in the evening and finding a nice spot to watch the sunset

-If you couldn't tell he loves his car and talks about it all the time to you, once he realises you don't really understand he teaches you about cars.

-Him showing up at your house randomly and saying your going on a drive

-When you introduce him to your parents he brings flowers for your mother, like the sweetheart he is.

-When Gil introduces you to his mom she loves you and thinks your great for her son.

-The T birds seeing you as one of them

-Sneaking out of class to chill out in his car (maybe a makeout sesh who knows)

-Gils favourite spot to kiss you is your neck and the back of your hands.

-Gils mom invites you to dinners and teas all the time. (Gil gets jelly cause he wants to spend all the time with you and only you)

-Him freaking you out by driving really fast

-Pink Ladies being super nice to you, Olivia tries to be nice but you can tell she doesn't like you.

-Finding out he's allergic to cats when he visits your house and starts sneezing when hes near your cat (or dog).

-Betty seeing you as an older sister

-Gil really does care and love you so much, he's scared of losing you.

[iloveyourwritingthankyou]

Creeping closer and closer to becoming one of those 'fine ill do it myself' people bc there is not enough x reader fanfiction for rise of the pink ladies to keep me happy

[deadsnothere]

Fallin' For ya! PT. 2

PT.1 - Fallin' For Ya!

Synopsis - After a singing confession Cynthia brings me to an abandoned car shop to have some "privacy"

Masterlist

Request - No!

Word count - 5k (all together w/ both parts)

Speak Ali! - i'm in love with her

When we arrived at the car shop no one was there, It was just me and Cynthia.

She got off the bike first, letting me off after. We both made our way into the shop, looking around at the dust-filled cars and auto parts. There were a few cars that weren't too bad with dust, a red corvette just sitting in the middle of the shop. They looked like they were just waxed before they were abandoned for god knows how long- “Hey! Pretty girl, come look at what I found.” Cynthia had run off on her own, Her natural curiosity had to be killing her. When I finally got a view of what she was talking about I wasn't sure how to feel honestly- “Is that a tub of grease?” She nodded rapidly.

“YES! It's been abandoned- And it looks like it’ll still work fine.” I chuckled at how she looked so excited about something so simple. ”You and the boys can use it at the shop, can’t you?” “Yeah! It’ll be a good way to save some money-” When she was finally done inspecting the grease she’d opened, she looked back to me. “Ya know- You're always the cutest when writing.” Making eye contact, I raised an eyebrow at her. “What?” She was chuckling at my reaction and how stupid I looked trying to figure it out. “Everyday while me and the boys are working on the car, you're writing in your notebook. It's adorable-...what are you writing everyday?”

…it took me a second to think of an answer. “Well I am the “certified pink ladies secretary��� so i'm writing different tasks we have to focus on, List of things that are urgent and some that can be left to the side. Writing a list of different ways I'm going to kick buddy in the family jewels. But I also write about my day- my life and what I feel at that moment.” Cyn was laughing at me. “What!?” She tried to douse down her laughter but she couldn't stop. “You have a diary?” I rolled my eyes at her comment. “I have a journal! Not a diary-'' She looked at me like I was stupid, took a few steps towards me, putting her hand on my waist. “It's the same thing!” Gasping, I hit her shoulder. Moving with her like we were dancing, When she stepped her left foot up, i stepped my right back and we kept walking like that. “It is not- one is much more dignified and mature- The other is- AH-”

I jumped when she pushed me into the old corvette. “Be careful, Princess.” She raised her eyebrows at me, a condescending smile on her face. “Oh shut up..Stable girl-” Cynthia put both of her arms leaning on the car, The stupidly attractive smile not fading. “You’re gonna have to shut me up yourself- Princess.” Now she was just plain mocking me! “Oh come here you peasant.“ I grabbed her face, kissing her sweetly. It only lasted a few seconds but each of them were heaven on earth.

She leaned back nodding, letting out a sigh looking up at the roof. “...Are you made of sugar-” I laughed- “What is that supposed to mean?” She kissed me this time, didn't let go of my lips, dragged me back as much as she could until we were both falling into the car- “AH- Oh my god!” We burst into laughter waiting for the dust to settle down, and now she was on top of me in the backseat of a very dusty convertible. “Shit! That is not how it was supposed to go, but..I can't say I'm mad…” She was smiling and eyeing me. “My god! You are disgusting-” Anyone could tell I wasn't mad by the way I was laughing. “Oh come on-”

She leaned down and whispered in my ear. “Can’t a princess get dirty just for a night?” I hit her shoulder again- “You- You-” -and again and again. Cynthia was laughing at my flustered stuttering, her eyes always creased when she laughed, Jane and Olivia said we laugh the same way- that we’re almost identical when laughing at the same joke.

“..I love you.” Woah- ok. “Where is this coming from Cynthia?” She was looking me deep in the eyes, nothing could get us to look away from each other. “Alias you wrote an entire song about how you love me and you expect me not to say it back? Wow i'm not sure you got the right girl-” I smiled sarcastically at her. “I Love you too, Cynthia. I think I've loved you since we met in 6th grade. I adore you. I mean you didn't care about anything they said to you, you just did what you liked.”

She pushed a piece of my hair behind my ear. “Can I kiss you again?” I nodded, just barely. She immediately dipped her head down to kiss me. “Ya know i'm starting to believe you're addicting.” She drew kisses down my neck. “I could say the same-” Each time her lips touched me I jolted just a bit- I finally had what I've been dreaming of for two years. Her love and attention. And god it made me want so much more. I adored the way she felt on top of me, kissing my neck and collarbone.

“Alias- You have no idea how much i've been dreaming of this day-” I laughed in disbelief. “Everyday you wear those low cut tops and tight skirts. I want to squeeze and touch you in front of every guy who flirts with you.” With a bright red face and a grin I looked away from her, She didn't take that too kindly- “Hey- Alias, look at me.” When I didn't move my head, she moved it for me with her thumb.

“I mean every word- I wish I could tell the world how much you mean to me, how much more you mean to me.” She looked at me like I was the only person in the world. No one has ever looked at me like that. I mean, the gangs they care about me- but not one of them has loved me. Or shown me how it feels to be loved so tightly. Or so- Oh my god her hand is on my thigh- HER HAND IS ON MY THIGH. I REPEAT HER HAND IS ON MY THIGH. She was drawing little stars on my thigh with her fingers. Goosebumps were left wherever she touched.

The to the shop door opened. “HEY! WHO’S IN HERE'' We have to get out of here. “Oh shit! Come on-'' The best way to go about this is to sneak out the back door! Of course it is- we just need to- I felt Cynthia pull me up and following her lead I jumped out of the car. “BOLT.” FOR FUCKS SAKE-

Next thing I knew me and Cyn were running out of the shop with a very angry man chasing us. It was hell, but damn is hell fun!

----

And that's how we're here. We are running from a man in a car, while on Cynthia's Motorcycle. And holy shit does it feel good. Like ever since we started the pink ladies it's nothing but rushes. The feeling of running away from Miss Mcgee after we flashed our asses to the entire school, The feeling of singing on stage with emotions and putting my body into something I wrote, The feeling of running away from this shitty town with the girl I've been in love with for two years! And that's just a few! Everything's a rush and I never want it to stop- I want this, adrenaline, trouble, kissing Cynthia in places we’re not legally allowed to be. Maybe it's dangerous but I don't give two shits anymore! I just love the feeling- it's euphoric.

After driving around for 20 minutes trying to get the man lost, we finally succeeded. “Thank fuck!” I heard Cynthia curse from in front of me. “Let's get you home princess, your royal carriage is finally on its way to the castle.” She took a turn on Henry Drive, two roads before my house.

I didn't want this to end, and maybe it doesn't have to.

I hugged her tighter, smiling at the thought of her laying in my bed, waiting for me to lay down just so we can cuddle because the touch starved Cynthia needs her affection..but this time it's not ‘plationic’ its real, she’ll kiss me and run her hands on my hips and my hair. I love her, and I'm willing to write a million more songs to prove it to her.

When we arrived at my house Cynthia held her hand out and helped me off her bike. I took off my helmet and goggles. “Wanna come inside?” Cyn hesitated but said yes regardless and we made our way inside.

“Mamí, Papí, I’m home!” I yelled through the old house, to alert not only them but the gremlin’s. I could hear stampeding down the stairs right now. Lainey and my three baby sisters were making their way towards me, all in worn and torn pajamas that had enough stains to make it a whole new color. Cynthia was at least a foot behind me blocked by a pillar in the middle of the staircase.

One by one, my sisters started to show up infront of me. Aliah, Lila, the 2 year old twins. And Aria and Lainey the two middle children, Aria being 3 and Lainey being 14. “Alias! How’d it go?- did you kiss her- tell me and Aria every..thing” Once she and Aria, who was in her arms, backed me up into the kitchen she could see Cynthia, who was laughing her ass off at the interrogation happening in front of her. I started to try and laugh with her to laugh off the embarrassment but it didn't work.. “Hi Cynthia! Did you kiss my sister we all are very dedicated to this.” Lainey motioned to her and the line of children she had following her. Cynthia ruffled everyone's hair going down the line. “I don't kiss and tell kid, sorry.” Lainey huffed looking at me again. “I expect an explanation later.” Fondly rolling my eyes at her and pushing her and the twins away from us so we could run up the stairs.

We reached my room and shut the door quickly. “No more heathens!” She yelled quietly. I started laughing, sometimes that is a real goal to accomplish. I sat on the edge of my bed, my hands running through my hair. “You're so pretty.” She was staring at me. “And why do you say that?” I titled my head pretending to act confused. She looked at the wall just for a second to take a deep breath. Cynthia walked up to me, and placed her hand on my head pulling my hair back just a bit for me to get the memo. “Because you're my girl.”

Am I breathing right now? I think I'm frozen in place. Cynthia looked so proud of herself. I swallowed my spit and tried to answer with as little stuttering as possible. “Well- I-I’m your girl?” Now that I looked nervous, her act completely changed. “Well only if you want to be- I won't force you!-”

I started laughing at how anxious she was for an answer. “Yes you idiot- Of course i'll be your girlfriend!” She looked in almost disbelief, like we hadn't made out in an abandoned car shop an hour and a half ago. “You're the stable girl in my fairytale book, I can't get away from you.” She scoffed at me, leaning down to touch noses with me. “Oh yeah, like you have any room to talk princess.”

She was quick to kiss me. Pushed me back on the bed and crawled on top, her hands tracing up my hips drawing little hearts with her finger tips. I held onto her belt loops with my pointer and index fingers. I felt so warm all over, my face and neck were red from the close distance we were. It feels so familiar, but different at the same time, this kiss is more fiery and hungry. I feel so greedy but I can't help it, the more she kisses me the more I want to kiss back, the longer I want to kiss her. Our lips were practically sealed together.

Cynthia only broke that seal to move down my jaw and neck. She sucked the skin on my neck, the feeling of the blood rushing up to bruise me, making me gasp. I ran my hands through her hair reveling in the feeling of her leaving hickeys down my neck.

The door slammed open, and I pushed Cyn off of me quickly. My baby sister Aliah standing in the doorway with a smile, She was holding her pink and blue blanket my mom had crocheted for her. Sighing, the beating of my heart slowed a bit. “A- sleep here?” I laughed lightly and got off the bed. I picked her up, shut my door, and placed her on my bed with her blanket. “What the fuck did she say?” Cynthia asked, confused as to why I was putting her on my bed and covering her with my blanket. “She said “Ali, can I sleep in here” Except take out a few words and turn Ali into A.” She raised her eyebrows and nodded her head like she knew what was going on.

I unzipped the back of my dress and let it fall off my shoulders. “Woah- WOAH-” turned around confused on what the yelling was. “What!?” Cynthia was facing away from me on my bed, her neck and ears looked bright red. “Oh come on Cyn you can't be serious- you were just giving me a hick-” She snapped her head to me, and then to the very much awake baby laying in my bed and watching us interact with each other. I scoffed. “She doesn't care- she's my sister, I change her butt daily and she can barely speak-” Cynthia just widened her eyes, telling me she doesn't care. “Fine-” I continued changing peacefully, turning to find Aliah climbing on top of Cynthia and Cynthia trying to pull her off her head. I giggled picking her off the poor girl.

“You can borrow some of my clothes if you want to stay the night Cyn- It wouldn't be too crowded on my bed.” She thought about it for a second before deciding to stay, she opened my closet and walked all the way in closing it and turning the light on. “You're kidding me.” I started laughing out of disbelief, something that seemed to be happening a lot today. Cynthia didn't walk out of the closet until she changed out her pants and button up, wearing one of my old wife beaters. “Looking good, Stable girl.” She picked up a hanger from my closet and threw it at me.

“Just get in bed you idiot-” I situated myself first and then let Aliah lay down on my right side and Cynthia on the left. “Good night, Stable girl.” I could hear her roll her eyes. “Good night, Princess.” I kissed Aliah's forehead pulling her blanket onto her a bit more so she’ll be warmer. “Good night, Liah.”

And I closed my eyes letting myself drift to sleep slowly with my two favorite girls.

[cherrysfanfics-ily]

Sweet Nothing

This is inspired by Sweet Nothings by Taylor Swift

Pairing: Potato x Gender-Neutral! Reader

Word Count: 1641

Genre: Fluff

(___’ POV)

I was on the field cheering with the other cheerleaders bored with a sigh, I just wanted to hang out with my boyfriend, watch a movie, bake and joke around in the kitchen, or even go to Frosty Palace. “Hey ___! Are you coming to the party tonight?” I hear Wally ask from behind me. I turn around to look at him with a small smile. “ Hey, Wally! I don't think I’m going to, I think I’m just going to have a quiet night with my boyfriend tonight.” I told him, not realizing Buddy, Neil, and a couple of other football guys walked up beside us until I heard one of them speak up. “Come on you should come, it’s a party to celebrate Buddy winning president,” Neil said with a smirk shaking Buddy by his shoulders, while I rolled my eyes.

“Plus if you come the girls will come as well, and we would really love them to come.” Another guy on the team replied before another bumped him jokingly and him bumping back. “No offense but that makes me want to go less, I’m not interested in celebrating Buddy’s presidency or going so the girls go.” I shrug looking at them with a sigh. “Come on, it’s just going to be lame without you, and people won’t have as much fun either.” Neil adds wrapping his arm around my shoulder before I shrug him off and move farther from him. “ Guy’s if they're not interested, they're not interested,” Buddy says, making them all go quiet before looking at me, “I think it’s great you want to spend the night with your boyfriend.” Buddy says with a small smile making me smile back.

“We would love for you to come so if you change your mind the party is at Buddy’s place.” Wally said with a smile before they all left me alone. As soon as they left the other cheerleaders and I decided to gather our stuff since lunch was ending soon. As I was putting my stuff in my bag I looked at the bleachers to see Potato looking at me, already making me smile and wave at him. He waved back with a big smile on his face, making me smile so big that my face to hurt. “Hey ___?” I heard from behind me, I quickly blew a kiss at Potato before turning to see who it was only to see Susan, Rosemary, Dot, and Pearl. “Hey! What’s going on?” I ask confused. 

“Are you going to the party tonight at Buddy’s?” Susan asked me curiously with her arms behind her back. “Uh, I don’t think so. I think I’m just going to have a quiet night with Potato.” I told them putting one of my bag straps on my shoulder. “ Awwe, come on! It would be so much better with you there, and we would love for you to be there.” Pearl says with a tiny smile and pout. “ Yeah, everyone is expecting you to be there,” Rosemary adds with a smile crossing her arms. “Expecting? Listen, I don't have plans to go to Buddy’s party to celebrate him winning when I didn’t even vote for him.” I spoke, crossing my arms over my chest with a small smile, looking at them. “Wait…” Pearl said kind of confused looking at me before looking toward Susan, with Charlotte and Dot doing the same right after.

“You voted for Jane?” Susan questions with a look of anger and my eyes widen a bit thinking she already knew I did and I just nodded. “ How could you do that? You knew how much the election meant to him!” Susan yells out getting the attention of the football guys, the T-birds, the Pink Ladies, and a few people sitting on the bleachers. I saw Buddy start to walk up to the girls and me and heard footsteps on the bleachers and turned to look quickly seeing the gangs get up and start walking down. “Yes, I did Susan. I’m not going to vote for someone who does not want to change things for the better. Times are changing, and everyone deserves to have fun in their high school lives.” I told her calmly, turning back to look at her, ignoring all the looks we were getting. 

“What’s going on?” Buddy asks as he stood between Susan and me; I heard the footsteps from behind me stop a bit away, but still where they could hear the conversation-turned-argument. “They’re a traitor, is what’s happening. They didn’t vote for you!” Susan angrily told Buddy storming over to stand beside him, crossing her arms. “I’m not a traitor for voting for the person I think is doing the best for the school. Isn’t that what being president means?” I asked, confusedly looking between Susan and Buddy. “Yes, it is. Susan… It’s fine that they didn’t vote for me.” Buddy spoke agreeing with me before turning to Susan, softly placing a hand on her shoulder.

Susan stood there for a second thinking before she shook her head disagreeing with Buddy and me. “No! They knew why this was important for you, they knew that you were doing what you thought was best! They knew how much this meant to you, and to all the rest of us!” Susan said angrily, motioning her arm toward the rest of the socs as I rolled my eyes. “If this is how I’m going to be treated for voting for who I think is going to do what's best for this school and for all the students in it… Then I quit. You’ve just lost a cheerleader.” I glared at her before quickly heading towards the school with my head held high.

“___, wait!” I hear Rosemary and Dot call out to me. I just shook my head, not turning back. Once I entered the school I headed into the locker room to change quickly, looking down at the folded-up cheer uniform sitting on the bench with a sigh before exiting. 

When I walk out I'm met with Potato leaning on the wall outside the locker room, standing straight and coming by my side when he spotted me. “Hey…” I said looking down at the ground as I started to walk towards my locker. “Hey… Are you okay? That went by quickly out there.” He asks softly, taking my hand in his.

I looked at our hands with a slight shrug, “I don’t know… I just quit something I’ve been doing for years and lost the group of friends I hung around with the most. I’ve known and been friends with those people since the 3rd grade.” I spoke, upset that not only did my supposed friends turn on me for who I voted for, but I also quit the only elective I have only really known. I have so much more free time now which feels unnatural. “Hey, they turned on you without a second thought over something small. You did the right thing by standing your ground. They showed their true colors.” He told me as we walked up to my locker. He leaned his side onto the locker beside my own looking at me as I opened my locker bringing my bag off my shoulder and in front of me.

“I just have so much free time now, like during lunch periods and right after school. I haven’t had that free time in so long and I love having an extracurricular to do.” I responded, exchanging my books and putting my bag back into my locker, closing it and putting the lock back on. I leaned my side onto it and looked at him. “How about this? You come to hang out with the other T-Birds, the Pink Ladies, and I; and we can ask Cynthia about acting and things the drama club offers.” Potato offers with a small smile on his face, while I just look into his eyes with a hum thinking about his offer.

“But would the others even want me around? They don’t really take kindly to socs and I kinda was one for a bit.” I asked him, confused about how they would feel. “ Well they’d actually wanted to meet you personally since I told them we were dating, and they think you’re pretty cool for voting for who you wanted and not caring about the expectations put on you.” He pointed out reaching out to hold my hand softly, his thumb softly rubbing my knuckles. “Really? You’re not just saying that?” I ask softly with a sigh moving closer to him, and he moves to wrap his arm around my shoulder as we go to walk to the next class that we share. “ Yes, really! They know you mean a lot to me.” He told me glancing down at me, making me hum with a smile growing on my face. 

“Then I’ll come to hang out with everyone, they all seem like fun,” I said as we walked into class, heading to our desks. “Great, but I think tonight you and I are going to have a peaceful night, just us. Get a couple of milkshakes then go back to yours and watch movies together.” He suggested making me smile knowing that I’ll get the peaceful night with my boyfriend that I wanted. “Sounds amazing.” I smile before giving him a small kiss and sitting down, him sitting down in his seat with a huge smile on his face.

I’m glad to have Potato there for me, he knows how to make me feel better and make me comfortable. He cares, and he’s my safe place. 

Everyone's up to something

I found myself a-running home to your sweet nothings

Outside they're push and shoving

You're in the kitchen hummin'

All that you ever wanted from me was nothing

[ilovebeingmatchedup]

PTT!Chuck E. Cheese x Reader Headcanons: Meeting and Confession

Chuck is red reader is pink.

- entering the Pizza Time Theatre, you slowly enter the boss’ office. a thick cloud of cig smoke attacks your face.

- you hack your lungs out but you enter the office, encountering with the hottest rat known to man: Charles Entertainment Cheese.

-the moment you laid your eyes on him, you realized that you fell head over heels with the greasy ass demon

-blush creeping in, you go along the basic interview questions. Your track record isn’t the best, but after a few moment of silence, the rat speaks up:

‘well, Y/N, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. Your options here are very… limited.’

-a huff of smoke attacked your face, resulting in violently coughing.

‘so, like, what’s the offer?’

-Anxiety took over your body.

‘Listen, I don’t normally do this with my upcoming employees, but I’ll make an exception for you. You’re an interesting person.’

-face fully red, you perk up. He comes closer to you, finger on your chin; his voice drenched in affection:

‘I really, REALLY like yous Y/N’

-Ultimately, that’s how your interactions with the boss started.

-As your days in the Pizza Time Theatre continued, your bond with the rat grew stronger. You got along fairly well with the rest of the crew.

-As the tech of the show, you took care of the crew, but Chuck always asked you to take care of him alone. You never knew why.

-behind the scenes, he and you jokingly insulted each other, sometimes arguing like a married couple in terms of anything small.

-you got free pizza and tokens, but most importantly Chuck was able to see you every day! It was the best part of the job. The pay wasn’t bad, either.

-you managed to get Chuck and the gang’s numbers as well, so you got to hang out with Chuck many times outside of your job.

-he and you frequently visited each other’s houses very often. The gang thought you guys were dating.

-you labeled those days as the best days of your life. Too bad you weren’t a bird.

-however, Chuck called you into his office one day.

‘are you satisfied with my work boss?’

‘very.’

‘so… what’s up?’

-silence.

-maybe he wanted to fire you? You began sweating.

‘dude, if I did something wrong just tell me.’

-more silence.

‘Boss, please tell me what’s wrong. I really care about—’

‘OKAY, I LIKE YOU Y/N. I’M TIRED OF BEING THE REAL NITWIT HERE.’

-You were flattered to say the least.

‘I… wow. I don’t know what to say.’

The two of you stayed all flustered for what seemed like hours even though it was a few seconds.

‘Big C—’

‘L-Listen, if you don’t like me ba—’

‘BIG C. I like you too.’

-Chuck was so flustered he melted in his seat. It took him a few minutes to recollect himself and stutter a sentence or two.

‘S-so… what does that make us?’

‘Partners, I guess.’

‘I love you so much, Y/N.’

‘I love you too, boss.’

‘Please, call me Chuck E.’

-leaving the office hand in hand, you two stand there. Everyone is in disbelief.

-pasqually, crusty, and jasper cheered. The Warblettes were happy Chuck finally could leave them alone.

-and that is how the relationship between you and Chuck began.

[lovelyypythoness]

Yeah I need some T Birds x reader fics NEOW

[milkiangl]

this steve harrington grease au fic has been sitting in my drafts for literal months.. do i dare finally write it..? 🤭🤭

[inkblot-inc]

Jeweler!Wanda still having a baking hobby and using Skitch and all their co-workers at the Maker’s Damned as guinea pigs for her recipes

Aghhh yes

Wanda definitely bakes in her off-time as a hobby, but it also helps her decompress from work. Just go to town in the kitchen and relieve stress with, say, some cupcakes to eat afterward :3

With the huge amount Wanda can wind up making, Skitch was the one to just bring the extra baked goods by the Maker's Damned since everyone will eat them up. Things just sort of fell into place from there...

One of Skitch's coworkers coming up to their station like, "Hey when do you think your lady's gonna make those peanut butter delights again?" and Skitch just standing there like, "Ummm....I dunno, but I can ask? 😅"

there's also less sweets around for Kate to try and get sick off of, so there's another plus-

Wanda also does most of the catering for her own launch parties and events. Not only does she save the money getting outside sources, but she also gets to bake away her nerves 😌

[filmstarved]

i can fix him and fuck him.

18+ [logan x female!reader]

nobody can break through logan's walls with ease like you can. and he actually lets you, welcomes it even. he needs it to breathe and when he's ready to walk out of the gifted youngsters door, there you are again.

word count: 5,737

logan sulks. he’s so devoid of love and compassion that he sulks. he’s confused most days, too. unsure of who he is and what he even wants. the people who are somehow closest to him can’t even find their way past the fire breathing dragons that guard the drawbridge to his heart. (scott jokes that he doesn’t have a heart and that the adamantium replaced it and he’s fully pumping cold, hard metal).

logan is a man who answers to himself and doesn’t give people even the slightest chance to ask him a dumb fucking question because he’s not in the fucking mood. he’s never in the mood…unless you put him in one. usually a good one.

you earn a smile from logan as easy as the sun makes it seem to rise every morning and the moon to take its place at night. it leaves the team dumfounded. they believe if you weren’t here, logan would have left a long time ago. they’re right. logan used to search high and low for any excuse to leave. he never knew where he’d go, he’d just…go. but you didn’t dare let him out of your sight. not ever since the professor had brought you to what you call home a little over a year ago now.

deep down, he wanted reasons to stay. somewhere deep inside that metal frame…he wanted things to be right again. he’d find it tiring most days to carry around his grief and anger. but you gave him reasons to stay just one more day.

“so we’re working on that thing for charles together tomorrow right?” you asked on a wednesday, standing so cutely in the threshold of his door that it was almost annoying to him.

“so we’re catching that movie downtown with ororo and hank tomorrow right? it starts at 6!” you asked on a thursday.

“heeyyy, lo…do you possibly, maybe think you could sub for scott’s morning classes tomorrow? he has a dentist appointment…,” you shyly asked on a very late sunday night. (logan heard scott’s jokes about his heart so he made you ask. logan was the only one available.)

but behind his stoic stature and intimidating glare fixed on his face accompanied by knitted brows, he’d always say yes…to you. you were his reason for staying. he knew it but would never admit it. you knew it but played the oblivious part well. and the rest of the team would gossip about it when you two weren’t around. but as long as you were here, logan has nowhere else to be.

although as of late, you’ve been busy. much busier than usual. charles has you creating plans for a mission happening soon. when you’re not teaching mutant ethics 101 to freshmen, you’re hauled up in the lab or library; sometimes darting back and forth between the two multiple times a day leaving very little time to worry about logan.

tonight, you brought your work back to your dorm. as you cleaned up a rough draft of an exit strategy, rain began to tap lightly on the window. you had lit candles littered around the room as well as grouped on your table, a small desk lamp illuminated the surface further. as you reached up to stretch your aching back muscles, you were startled by the sound of a throat clearing.

your eyes shot to the sound at your door where logan stood, leaning against the frame; arms crossed and still like he had been glued to the spot. 

“hi lo,” you say. “y’scared me, heh.” you aren’t used to logan greeting you often, especially not this late. he’s over 150 years old, of course he’s grumpy and an early bird. you’re usually the one at his door with requests and invitations to social events he assumes can be nothing short of insufferable. he sighs, his stare dropping to burn holes in the ground. “logan, are you-“

“i think i’m gonna get out of here, bub.”

those words felt like an arrow hitting the bullseye in your chest and then another splitting the first one right through the center.

“wha-what do you mean?…you’re leaving?” you asked, confusion and frustration trembling in your voice.

“it’s too hard being here.”

with that, you stood up from your chair, beelining to him. “c’mere,” you say hushed, pulling on his leather clad arm, trying to unfold them and get him out of the door frame. he doesn’t budge and you pull “the look” that you know he can’t say no to. “come sit with me please, lo.”

he unfolds his arms which allows you to grab his hands to lead him to take a load off on your bed. your bare feet pat on the hardwood floor as you quickly go back to close the door.

you walked back over to him, assessing his body language. ever since he let you use your mutation to “read him” a few months ago, you told him you’d never do it again without his permission. one gaze into his eyes and a touch of his skin and you could feel everything wracking around in his head. anxiety, rage, hate but love, pain. it was hard to feel just for a moment and your heart cracked knowing he was riddled with those feelings constantly.

but right now you couldn’t help it, he was slouched on the edge of the bed, his head dropping to rest in his large hands, and apparently ready to walk right out of the door. your powers are amplified with a touch and even more when you can look into their eyes. from a distance, you could feel a sense of unease and something else… a pressure…built up in your stomach as you surveyed your friend. it didn’t feel bad though…it felt familiar. a good familiar. you stopped reading him and did your best to shrug off the aching stomach feeling and care for your disheveled logan.

he wasn’t emotional, like ever. he hid all that, only showing you what you wanted to see; what he believed you wished him to be — happy, whatever that was. but that couldn’t’ve been farther from the truth. sure, you want him to be happy but also just whatever he wanted to feel, you wouldn’t suppress it or try to change it to fit some ideal of who people on the outside want him to be. yes, he was one of the meanest motherfuckers you had ever met but he was your mean motherfucker. (whatever that means because nothing has ever really been clear between you two).

you walked closer to him, forcing yourself in his diabolical bubble. you stood between his legs, removing his hands from his face to wrap them around your waist. you scooped your hands under his scruffy chin, pulling up to get a look into his bloodshot eyes. oh, he’d been crying.

“lo…,” you muttered. “why were you crying, wolv?” you slide a thumb across his cheek where tears had stained the skin. “why do you want to leave?”

he pulled his face away, breaking his stare with you. he dropped his head forward to rest on your stomach, wrapping his arms around your legs so his hands rested on the back of your thighs. he began to slowly rub the exposed skin of them that your very short night shorts didn’t cover. he lifted the hem of your shirt slightly to press his hot face into the soft, cool skin underneath. he hummed into it, allowing you to feel the vibration.

“logan,” you softly moaned his name under your breath. his fingers press firmly, inching closer to the crease in the skin where your ass meets thigh.

“is this okay?” he asks lowly, when he looks up for confirmation to keep going, you’re already looking down at him nodding. “say it’s okay for me to touch you like this, bub.”

“yes, keep going, logan,” you said curtly. in your voice there is a hint of need. you hadn’t been touched like this since jean’s christmas party, tipsy off spiked egg nog in the garden with a guy whose mutation was a very wet, long tongue. flirting with him seemed intriguing in the moment, but five minutes later, it rendered itself utterly useless due to user error. the sexual tension between you and logan is so potent it usually clears out a room. aside from accidental brushes of hands and quick looks at each others lips mid conversation, neither one of you has acted on it.

his hums turn to growls and soft whimpers as your hands ran through and tugged his hair. your fingers found their way to his nape, splaying out to grip the hair there in your fist. he managed to place a single kiss on the skin right above the elastic of your shorts before you pulled his head back to scrutinize his face.

“you don’t have permission to read me,” he groaned. before you could ask how he even knew that’s what you were doing he said, “you get this serious, focused look in your eyes. i can feel you in my head.”

“logan, what are we doing?” you ask, releasing his hair and stepping out of his bubble. 

his hands drop from the absence of your thighs onto his lap and his sighs frustratingly. 

“what do you mean?” he asks, admiring your body in the dim light with a semi pressing on the denim of his jeans through his boxers.

“i’m…not doing this with you…if you’re just gonna disappear from my bed before the fuckin’ sun comes up. i’m not doing this,” you said, with your hands on your hips.

he pressed his hands into his knees to push himself up to tower over you. he took two big steps forward and stood in front of you. his hand raised up to brush the back of his fingers across your cheek to cup it and rub his thumb over the warm skin. 

he pressed his lips to yours, skillfully allowing his tongue access to it. you let him. “i give you permission,” he moaned in your mouth. “read me. feel how i feel about you…how i’ve always felt about you.”

he welcomed the hesitant slip of your hands past his jacket and under his shirt, shivering and chuckling “mm, cold” into your mouth. you rested your cool touch on his hips and with his mouth obsessed with yours, you read him. 

your head dizzied instantly and the hair on the back of your neck stood up. you had never felt anything as strong as this. you could almost taste the colors in logan’s head. your heart dropped to your stomach like you were on a rollercoaster, feeling sick from adrenaline in the best ways. and then, returned that good familiar feeling. this time buried even deeper in your stomach, moving it’s way lower…and lower until logan was swallowing the noises escaping you. before you literally passed out, you dropped your hands and took back ownership of your lips and tongue. breathing heavily, you moved away from him to collect yourself.

a beat of silence followed by a heavy sigh and a “well, say something” from logan passed and you opened your mouth to speak before shutting it again.

that…was the best thing you had ever felt. no drug could compare to the euphoria that a minute of kissing logan could bring. you could practically feel yourself lubricating and your upper thighs unconsciously squeezed together as you scrambled to find thoughts.

there were none. your mind already dumb and wanting more of him…more of the feeling. your fists planted firmly on both your hips as if you were grounding yourself to the floor to avoid buckling. you eyed the ground, looked back up at him and forwarded with another heated, taking-in-each-others-breath kiss. your hands found their way to the same place gripping the hair on his nape to which he praised the tug with a moan. he supported your balance as your whines got more whiney and needy and your hands held onto him like life support.

“lay down,” he said into your kiss. it wasn’t really a command, more of a warning because he tossed you on the bed like unfolded laundry.

he stood over you as you collected yourself, darting your tongue out to taste the spit he left behind. you propped yourself up on your elbows to get a look at the man casting a shadow over you. without the sounds of pleasure exclaiming in each others mouths, your ears absorbed the comforting sound of the battering rain. a tree branch smacked the window as thunder rumbled outside.

logan took a moment to admire your presence. starting at the top, he gazed upon your hair that he associates with vanilla and roses and the times he’d touch himself wondering how it’d feel being wrapped around his hand and pulled.

as he removed his leather jacket, he took his time mentally undressing you. feeling even more pressure build in your clit, you bore your hips down into the mattress, rolling them in circles to stimulate the swollen nub. he beheld your tits, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip at the sight of your hard buds under your very thin, white tank top. he threw his heavy jacket to the side, letting it thud in a ball on the ground.

“you look so beautiful, sweetheart,” he said, deeply enthralled by your scantily clad figure laid out in front of him. unable to stop staring, you could see the bulge in his pants get larger and it ridiculously turned you on. with you making eye contact with the crotch of his jeans, he effortlessly unfastened his belt buckle. the metallic buckle clanked to the floor as his jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles. 

he stroked himself while he looked upon you. it was like you could read his mind, because you began to touch yourself. the twitch of his lips and darkening of his eyes validated your teasing. letting yourself drop back on the bed, you caressed your body for him. one hand occupied by cupping your tit and pinching and twisting your nipple while the other is exploring the wet spot left on your panties. not being able to handle eye-fucking you any longer, he dropped to his knees on the edge of the bed between your legs. logan hooked his arms under your knees, pulling you close which in your intoxicatingly lustful brain you found funny, so you laughed.

logan spread your thighs open so he could fit in between them to leave wet, sloppy kisses all over your skin. he nibbled here and there, earning soft hisses and hums from your parted lips.

kiss kiss nibble hiss mmm kiss hum nibble nibble bite kiss suck

he spent about a minute just doing that, leaving warm welts in his mouths wake. “i need these off of you, princess.” once he had kissed his way up to the elastic of your shorts, he snapped it. you nodded and he did the honor of pulling them down and flinging them across the room like he was opening presents on christmas morning. 

he let out an amused scoff as he ran his trembling hand down his face, caught between ecstatic disbelief at the sight of your black lace panties with little black bows adorning the seams. you mentally thanked your past self for slacking on doing laundry and only having your “special occasion” panties left to wear.

“d’you know how pretty you are,” he said. his eyes traced over every inch of you in excitement like you were artwork he stole from the louvre and made out like a bandit with.

his hand disappeared to slickly stroke himself, his mouth watering in anticipation for your taste. his chest heaves as he takes in the sight of you, studying every curve prettily laid out before him; thinking about every position he wants to see you in and every way he wants to please you. without another groan inducing thought, he lunged forward to press a kiss to your lips, his tongue demanding attention. you drink his breath like liquor becoming completely intoxicated by him. he needed this, he needed you.

“need…to taste…you,” he breathed in between kisses. with this mouth obsessed with yours, his hands caress your tits, his thumbing circles on one of the nubs while he’s pinching and pulling on the other. your head falls back and your neck rolls at the sensation, earning profanities from your pretty, swollen lips. your tit misses the hand that he proceeds to run down and up your thigh to locate the spot in your panties you were playing with a moment before. as he parts from your kiss, he’s hooked two fingers under the elastic, pulling those off swiftly.

you yelp when he pushes your torso down. you stare up at the decorative ceiling as he savors you, kissing and massaging your thick thighs. he’s enjoying playing with you as much as possible before allowing himself any pleasure. he wants your juice to cover his face…his neck…his arm…the bed…the floor too when he gets you to pop like a water balloon.

“logan…please, please,” you beg, pawing at his hair. you lift your head to watch the man between your legs taking in the sight and smell of your pretty, wet pussy. even in the dim light, he could see how much you ached for him. he not so secretly got entertainment from watching you lightly buck your hips up to his face and he would’ve let it continue but your pheromones became overwhelming for him; engulfing his head in it’s enchanting aroma.

like fresh pie on a windowsill, he was drawn into you. logan opened wide to swipe one flat tongued lick up your slit. he had one goal — to knock all sense out of you, to fully engulf you in pleasure. he wants you dumb and begging for him to stay right where he is — at the mansion and also all over you. 

logan audibly sucked and popped your clit in and out of his mouth, teasing the most sensitive bit. he’d suck and pop and then lick up your slick, repeating the act. one of his big hands reached up to cup your tit, pinching and twisting and circling. from his hair to the tit he wasn’t playing with, you clawed at whatever would ground you. being eaten by logan felt like floating above the stratosphere.

your wet soaked his beard and it only made him more horny, his cock dripping and throbbing in his fist. tasting you, inhaling you, winning pretty sounds from you, knowing he’s the one making you buck up and fuck his nose only made his appetite for you insatiable. he let go of himself to push his pointer and middle fingers into your needing pussy. you hissed and cursed. the thrill of him devouring you began to reach its peak. his fingers pumped relentlessly into you, curling them to stimulate your g-spot. moans, curses, the gushing of your wet cunt, his sucking and popping and vibrating moans mixed with the rain and thunder grumbling outside filled the dorm like mozart’s symphony no. 25.

he wanted to kiss you, so he did. with his fingers still coaxing an orgasm out of you, he shared the sweet taste. he got back on the bed with you, sliding his free hand under your back to push you up to further to see the mess you were making on the sheets.

“look at how good you’re taking my fingers,” he groaned, inching closer to your ear so you could hear his dirty language loud and clear. “you can come for me, baby.” he peppered a few kisses to your forehead, removing his hand from behind you so he could press it into your stomach. this only heightened the overwhelming wash of pleasure coursing through you.

“lo…logan, i’m-“

“fuck my fingers, baby. use them…oh that’s it…that’s it…i feel that clenching, c’mon you can do it for me. go big baby, make me happy.” his dirty mouth and sporadic clit circling and pumping in and out of you with his tireless wrist pushed you over the edge. you cowered into his neck, pulling on his white tank top and biting the salty skin below his ear as your pussy obeyed, erupting with your juices. out of breath and fucking dumb already, you could feel the wet soak the sheets under your ass.

logan pulled his fingers out of you, landing a light smack on your pussy before licking you clean off of his digits. you fell back on the bed, your arms above your head as you heaved and saw stars.

“‘m not done with you, princess.” he slid off the bed, still delighted by your taste and engulfed in your aroma.

“fuuuck,” you groaned. the pulsing lightning feeling spread throughout both legs as an effect of your rocking orgasm. logan was wicked with his tongue, a devious magician with his fingers and you were his sole audience member wondering about his tricks for sleight of hand.

he quickly tossed his tank, that had tug marks from your attempt to ground yourself, to the side, his muscles flexing under his skin. as he let your post orgasm, cock-dumb brain fog clear, he spit in his hand to fuck his fist. his saliva mixed with the pre-cum leaking from the head, he groaned and sighed heavily at the feeling of giving his dick some sort of relief. you, needy for another hit of him, propped yourself up on your elbows to watch the most delectable creature pleasure himself.

just the sight of him illuminated by candles and flashes of lightning outside as he gets off to how fucked out and dumb you look was enough to have you open up again and play with yourself. the sensitivity from your swollen nub required a delicate touch but your pussy ached, clenching around nothing. his knitted brows relaxed, eyes darting from your pretty face, to your tits, to your fingers rubbing circles where his mouth resided moments ago back to look longingly into your eyes.

“you’re gonna stay,” you said. your hand reached your mouth, your tongue swiping a lick up your middle and ring fingers, wrapping your lips around them to coat them in your saliva. “tell me you’re going to stay for me,” you elaborated. your wet fingers found your aching center.

“there’s no where else i want to be,” he answered. he paced closer to the bed where you laid, his dick basically making eye contact with you as he stopped a few inches away. “you’re mine, you know that?” he noticed your hand slow, “keep going,” he commanded. logan reached out to cup your face, tilting his head to get a look at you obeying his every request. “your face…your mouth…,” his thumb swiped across your lips as he spoke. “your body…your cunt.” he leaned down to kiss your mouth, leaving a string of spit attached to your lower lip. “your laugh…your heart,” he said kindly, his hand massaging your scalp. moans earned from his praise escaped you. “you’re all mine. is that okay with you, baby?”

you’re so bewitched by his aura and his subtle touches make your heart race so fast that you can’t do anything but try to maintain his torrid eye contact and nod.

“use your words, honey.” his thumb returned to the softness of your parted lips.

“i’m yours, logan,” you said, taking his thumb in and closing your lips around it. “if you’ll stay with me, i’ll be yours forever,” you breathed around his thumb, speaking from a mix of eager lust and the terrifying need for him to not to be an asshole, just once.

“i’m not going anywhere…i promise,” he said matter of factly before leaning back down to hungrily devour your kiss. “i need to…fuck you…now,” he cursed in between swallowing moans. 

“do what you want…i’m yours,” you said just clearly audible over the storm rumbling outside. you two shared eye contact so intense that you noticed his dick twitch from your peripheral. you took his dick in your drooling mouth, reaching up to squeeze the base of him. it twitched from the warmth, pressure and tongue swiping rhythmically around his angry, red tip. you kept yourself enveloped around his length, bobbing your head to hit your gag reflex. the added lubrication drove him crazy, his abs twitching under the toned skin of his abdomen. you moaned around him purely from the enjoyment you got out of having him stretch the corners of your mouth, feeling the sting from it. 

logan reached down with both hands to hold your head steady while he sped up thrusting into your throat. your gags and gasps for air, his praise and the storm filled the room beautifully. 

“fuuuck, baby, keep that throat open for me please,” he begged. his hands left their position to find a new one — one supporting his thrusting hips, the other petting your head. “oh, you look so fuckin’ pretty with my cock down your throat…you’re taking me so good, sweetheart.”

he pulled his dick out of your mouth to smack it on your face, complimenting how gorgeous you look. he kissed and licked the mess off of your mouth.

“mm, baby i need to know how good you feel.” with that, he rounded the bed to lay down. “c’mere, baby.” you turned around, crawling on all fours to obey him. his cock in its usual place to be, in his fist, leaks pre-cum in anticipation for you to smother it with your warm, clenching pussy.

“lay down,” he said.

“damn, yes sir,” you say, jokingly annoyed with all of his demands. you lay down next to him, your knees instinctively parting slightly. he lays on his side, resting his hand on your stomach, rubbing his large hand in flat circles.

“d’you know how long i’ve thought about this moment with you?” he asked, leaning in to kiss and suck the skin in the crook of your neck. you lustfully sighed at the sensation of his hot breath. his hand finds its way between your legs again, tickling and tapping at your slit. “i want you to read me the whole time i’m inside…can you do that?”

“are you—“

“yes i’m sure, i feel so fucking good right now and i haven’t even felt you. i want you to feel that and more,” he explains, pulling your chin in to taste the desperation on you.

before he came just from your kiss and rutting against the sheets, he hovered above you. his lips stayed attached to your chest, kissing lower and lower to suck a tit into his mouth, flicking your nipple with his tongue then biting softly on the nub. his hand disappeared from the side of your head to grab hold of his shaft, flicking his tip against your clit. his head dropped as he watched and listened to your slick coating his cock. he quickly swiped up and down your pussy trying to savor every fold and feeling. his brows furrowed, not being able to resist your warmth, he lined himself up with your hole, using his hand to guide just the tip into it.

“oh…fuck,” he groaned in excitement. he pushed in just a little more which caused you to hiss. his head shot up and eyes scanned your face for any sign of regret or unsureness. “are you okay? d’you want to stop?”

“no, baby,” you giggled, lifting your arms rest around his neck, one hand always finding a way into his dark locks. “just been a while…keep going, i’m okay.”

with your permission, he pushed in a little more. he let out a deep groan at the feeling of you stretching to form perfectly around him. you gasped, pressing a hand into his chest, feeling a similar sting to the one you felt in the corners of your mouth earlier. against his want to start thrusting his whole length into you, his went slow, watching your demeanor for cues to keep going.

“you feel…fuck…like it was made for me,” he said which caused the butterflies in you to flutter their wings even faster. “are you okay?” his chest heaved and his breath fanned your face.

“fuck me…please logan,” you said. your hands reached his hips, pushing them down onto you. without wasting another minute, he did. 

he bent your knee more to press it into your chest as his hips repeatedly slammed down hard, his balls smacking your ass. with one hand giving him better access by positioning your leg higher, the other cupped and squeezed your bouncing tit.

“oh my…fucking god,” you moaned. you had let the walls of your mutation down, allowing yourself to be flooded by not only your pleasure…but the love logan feels for you plus the absolute sheer euphoria that he was experiencing deep inside of your pussy. it coursed through your body like a steam engine leaving the station. it had felt like you had been brought to five earth shattering orgasms before the one that was bound to shake you again soon.

“you know you feel so good, look at that fuckin’ fucked out smile. can you feel it? can you feel how good you make me feel, baby? don’t stop readin’ me, princess. it’s all for you,” he praised for you to hear every word.

“holy shit…mm fuckin’…ahh!” your hands couldn’t help but find their way above your head, subconsciously reaching for the bed post for something to ground you again.

“here, baby, hold onto me.” logan grabbed your wandering wrist with his free hand, slapping your hand on his chest which you pressed into as if you were pushing him away. before your cock drunk mind could register what happened, he had flipped the two of you so you were on top. 

logan looked so fucking pretty under you. you took a second to breathe and take in the view before bending your knees to put yourself in a squatting position on his cock. you placed your hands on his heaving chest for support as you started to bounce your ass on him. ‘oh this is so fun’, the thought making you giggle in elation as you drilled down your hips, rocking them back and forth to feel him stimulate the deepest parts of you. his thumb bored into your clit, drawing circles on it. 

as you kept bouncing your wet pussy on him just how he liked, logan lifted his knees up behind you and pushed you back onto them. he moved his hand away from your clit and picked his head up to watch his dick disappear deep inside you. then, he spit. his saliva landed on your pussy and stomach. he went back to stimulating you, fully realizing how much that turned you on from the tight clench around him and the extra juice running down his ass onto the sheets under you two.

he, still playing with your clit, summoned your face closer to his with the middle and ring fingers on the other hand. once closer, he grabbed your neck to kiss your fiercely. 

“you’re my good girl, huh?”

‘mhmm’ was all you could muster with his hand around your throat and his hips still ramming his cock into your stretched out hole.

“use those words for me, baby. are…mm, fuck…you my good girl?”

“ye…sss, baby i’m your…good…oh my fucking…girl!!”

“open your mouth.” he fucking spit in it. you moaned tasting him again and feeling it on your face. “good…fuckin’ girl,” he complimented, kissing you and then squeezing your cheeks to spit on your tongue again. 

your body started to go limp and your eyes were practically glued together. you could feel the searing hot orgasm burning up inside. you could feel logan in a way that you never thought possible. everything. 

his love, his passion, his longing, his fear, his anxiety, his lust, his heart…everything was yours in this moment. high on his feelings, you let your head fall back coming undone on top of him.

“oh you’re so pretty…that’s pretty, baby, keep…fuck…use me, it’s all for you.” his words took you further and further into ecstasy. it was a really good fucking trip that you never wanted to end. the pain of his cock fucking you out and his grip clutching your skin like he’d fall off earth without doing so made you moan so intensely that not even the thunder outside could compete.

he could tell you were a few fucks away from collapsing but so was he. 

“baby…you keep clenching around me like that…i’m gonna fuckin’ fill you,” he said. you kept bouncing on it, wanting him to even feel a fraction of how he just made you feel. he closed his eyes trying to last as long as possible in the heaven that he found in you. his thumbs bore into your hips as he used them to ground himself.

“i want it, baby…fill your good girl up.” you leaned down to speak into his ear and then carry on kissing his neck, letting him claim your moans as trophies. 

“fuuuuck…fuuuck,” he moaned as his thrusting became sloppy and you weren’t bouncing as much anymore. his abs twitched again along with his face. 

SNIKT!!

you hissed at the cool metal of his claws against your skin and the feel of him throbbing severely inside you as he let himself paint your walls. you thanked him in pleased moans before falling on his chest. still semi-hard inside, he kissed the top of your head to which you looked up and he gave you a proper kiss. he let himself twitch out a few more dribbles of cum inside you before pulling his claws back in to carefully rub your back.

a few beats of silence went by as you listened to each others hastened breaths and the rain tapping the glass. 

“…i love you, logan.”

“i think you know how much i love you, baby,” he said, smugly remembering how you looked coming on his dick, further escalated by his letting you read him.

you two snuggled naked under the covers and as you laid on his chest and listened to his light snoring, you read him again. 

ease and silence…and love.

[simping-ella]

Shy Guy Dating Hcs

----------------------------------------------------------

-Obviously by his nickname we all know he's one shy guy but he managed the courage to ask you out

-Gives you his jacket almost anytime your with eachother

-He is a holding hand kinda person for sure, but when around the other T-Birds he takes longer to build up the confidence to hold your hand.

-Shy Guy is a big teddy bear, anytime you are upset or stressed you will be consumed by the bear hug.

-He is a very sweet romantic. Every date you go on don't be suprised when he gives you flowers.

-Be ready to not do anything ever again, you go to open a door...nah he's already opened it for you, need to get to your next class with all your books...he's holding them even if it means he's late to his own class.

-Him coming over for dinner or just to hang out and study. Always ends up in cuddling in bed (innocent shy guy means no harm)

-He is very protective of you, footballers are near you guys...wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer.

-When meeting your parents for the first time he is super flushed and stuttering alot.

-Eventually him telling you his real name (which we really need to know)

-Phone calls almost every night (even to just say good night)

-One way to make shy guy blush is cheek kisses. He goes bright red (T-Birds love to tease him when this happens)

-He really loves you and wants to be with you forever 💘

[annoyance-for-u]

HE CALLS HIM TWINNNN

Jason Todd with Daredevil!Male!Reader?

Maybe where the reader is basically like Daredevil and he meets him out of costume, he realizes the reader is blind and decided to help him out, not realizing who he is and forming a connection? Take this however you please and take care of yourself! 🫶

“Helpless”

——

Pairing: [Red Hood] Jason T. x [Daredevil] reader

Pronouns: he/him

Fandom: DC/Marvel

Quote: “You just looked so eager to help me. I couldn’t say no.”

Disclaimer: Reader is blind.

A/n: I’ve been wanting to write a daredevil reader for so long, you have no idea. This isn’t quite how I wanted it, and it may not be for you either, I’m sorry. Thank you for your request, and have a good day.

Master list

Word count: 1.2k

——

Y/n walked down the street. His cane searches across the ground in front of him. The unneeded guidance shows him down the sidewalk. It was cold, stuffy; it was going to rain. He paid close attention to those around him. Their breathing patterns. Their heartbeat.

His tie swayed ever-so slightly while he walked. His dress shoes made small thuds on the ground as he walked. His red-tinted glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, slowly sliding down by the minute just for him to push it back up. Briefcase in one hand, can in the other.

Soon felt a bumpy surface, indicating he was at a walkway. The can vibrated in his hand at the texture. He heard a guy next to him, turning to “look” at him as he placed the cane under his arm. “Could you press the walk button for me?” He asked.

The man looked up from his phone, y/n could hear the clothes russell around his neck. He nodded, though y/n couldn’t see it, and pressed the walk button. He then chuckled. “It’s pretty cloudy to be wearing sunglasses.” Y/n recognized his voice. It was Red Hood. He had worked with him. They’d have mini conversations every now and again. Red Hood was more warmed up to y/n than y/n was to him. Y/n never agreed with how Red Hood handles situations. How he resulted to a gun, but he never really said anything. He just made small adjustments to his plan when with the man so Red Hood would end up “missing” or getting distracted.

Y/n smiled. “Is it?” He pointed his head up to the sky. Playing along with Red Hood’s assumption he could see.

He heard the “stranger” take a few steps, so he began walking. He put his stick back in front of him, feeling and hearing it scrape against the ground. It clicked in the vigilante’s mind, and guilt ran through him.

“Oh, you’re blind!” He said, holding out his arm and taking a step closer to y/n. “Shit, here. Let me help you.” Y/n didn’t need help even if he wasn’t trained to take in every sound and every smell to guide him through these familiar streets,- Y/n chuckled as he took Jason’s arm. “Thank you.” –but he still accepted it anyway.

“Were you headed?” Red Hood asked.

“Court.” Y/n replied simply. He folded his into itself and attached the string to one of his belt loops.

Jason chuckled. “Ah, jury duty. They always get you with that.” Y/n laughed at his obliviousness, but he didn’t correct him.

“So what’s your name?” Jason asked, trying to make this walk just a little less awkward. Y/n could sense his tenseness, and his brain just registered that cologne Jason wears.

“Y/n l/n.” He replied. “You?”

“Jason Todd.” Y/n nodded, engraving the name into his memory to use against him when he’s in suit.

“Nice to meet you, Jason, and thank you for taking time out of your day to walk a blind man to court.” He joked.

Jason laughed. “Whatever makes me look good.” He joked back, slightly nudging him.

“Using me for girls now, Jason? We just met.” Y/n teased.

Y/n felt the man shrug slightly. “Maybe. We might need to hang out more.”

“Maybe…” Y/n mumbled. “Do you want my number?” He offered.

“Yeah.” Jason said, pulling out his phone. “What is it?”

“092-739-2276.” (Fake number)

“Got it.”

Y/n chuckled. “I think I can walk the rest of the way. I’m familiar with this part of town..” He said, letting go of Jason.

“You have jury duty often?” Jason asked.

“I’m a lawyer.” Y/n replied, unhooking his cane.

—

Y/n smiled at the familiar footsteps. He knew those boots. The sound of the stupid heavy jacket in the wind. He didn’t turn around, sitting on the edge of the building. Listening for anything else.

“Red Hood.” He called out in acknowledgement.

He heard Jason stuff his hands in his pocket. “Twin.” He could hear the cheeky smile in his voice.

Y/n chuckled at the nickname. Jason came closer until he was leaning against the ledge Y/n was seated on. “I saw your brother today.” Y/n said.

“Which one?” He asked, walking towards the other man.

“Nightwing.” Jason let out a small “Ah.” “He’s making out with another villain in an alleyway.” Y/n said with a small laugh.

“Right now?” Jason asked.

“In that alleyway.” Y/n said, pointing to an alleyway down the street. “They’re unreasonably loud.”

Jason gasped. “Oh my… that dirty little bird.” He said.

Y/n thought for a moment. “Is his name Dick Grayson?” Y/n asked.

“How do you know that?” Jason countered.

“Because you’re Jason Todd, so that means Batman is Bruce Wayne.” Y/n said, connecting all the dots. He then chuckled.

“How did you figure that out?” Jason asked. He didn’t sound mad.

Y/n chuckled. “I’m just that damn good, I guess.” Y/n stood up on the ledge.

“What’s your name?” Jason asked, standing up straight, looking up at y/n. “It’s only fair I know who you are right?”

Y/n shrugged, slowly walking down the edge. “Ah, I think I’ll keep that to myself.” He said simply.

“Oh, come on!” Red Hood said, following him. “That’s not fair. Can you at least tell me how you figured me out?”

Y/n smiled, turning his head towards him. “I met you out of suit. You just didn’t recognize me.”

Jason thought back to the people he’s met recently. None of them seemed to click into place. “When?” He asked.

Y/n sighed and smiled. “This week.” He said, sitting down. He knew Jason was gonna keep asking questions until he figured it out.

“This week I met an old lady, Bruce’s weird work friend, Dick’s new fling, Damain’s math teacher, some drunkie, and a blind guy.” Jason said. “Was you one of those?”

“I was.” Y/n said.

“Not an old lady. What’s your financial status?” He asked.

“I don’t know. I’m not rich.” Y/n said with a shrug.

“Have you been fucking my brother?”

“If I was, I would be doing something about his current makeout sesh.”

“Huh… You used to be good at math in school, right?” Jason felt happy, he thought he had it.

“We’ve worked together during school hours, bud.”

“Shit.” Jason cursed. “Do you drink?”

“I do, but I only get drunk when I’m at home.” Y/n said.

“Well, I mean, you’re not blind.”

Y/n shrugged with a smirk. He began pulling out his phone.

“You’re blind?” Jason asked in shock.

Y/n just pressed on Jason’s contact as he heard the man’s phone ring. “No fucking way…” Jason mumbled. “You stupid fuck! You didn’t need my help!” He yelled.

“You just looked so eager to help me. I couldn’t say no.”

——

[deadsnothere]

Fallin' For Ya!

Synopsis - confessing to Cynthia through song?

Based off the song: Fallin for Ya! - Teen beach movie

The longer version this is based off of more

Masterlist

WARNINGS! - gay people

Request - No!

Word Count - 5k (with part two not sure who long this part is)

Speak Ali! - I spent three days on this 😍🫶🏼 there will be a part 2 and maybe 3 but most likely just a 2

Riding away from a man in a car on Cynthia’s Motorcycle, is not how I thought tonight would go-

You may be asking “How the fuck do you end up running away from a man in a car after you explored an abandoned car shop to makeout with your kind-of girlfriend." It's a long story, but since you're on this tag on tumblr..i'm assuming you have the time.

The T-Birds, and The Pink lady's, all sat at two tables in the Frosty Palace. We were just laughing and talking about the campaign until I had to go on stage. Shy Guy had his arm resting on the back of my chair. Until Cynthia moved his arm and replaced it with her own, she gave me a wink and continued talking with the boys, while the ladies were drawing little posters. She was helping but got a bit distracted by the T-birds. Now I was in her place finishing her cute little drawings- and giggling at the stupid jokes she wrote on it.

Shy Guy was looking a bit sad, probably from Cynthia flirting with me. I feel bad but at the same time, I can't help that she doesn't have feelings for my brother. I wish she had feelings for me but no matter how gay she looks I'm not sure she's is. All of her flirting has always been a joke, she had to tell the entire gang that.

My thoughts were interrupted. “Hey Alias, are you ok?” Jane looked worried. “Oh yeah of course- why?” She furrowed her brows and tilted her head, responding carefully. “You're crying?” I HAVE TO BLINK- I FORGOT ABOUT BLINKING- My hand touched the one small tear that dropped out of my eye and I blinked a few times to bring the moisture back. “No no! Oh my- I'm fine I was just zoned out.” Jane nodded and smiled, Less worried now she went back to her poster.

When I turned back to the poster in front of me Cynthia was drawing again. We were practically face to face. She grinned when she noticed I was looking at her. “What? Think I'm gonna let you out do me on my own poster-” She was teasing, so I poked her cheek.

Looking at the clock on the wall, I stood up. “Hey, where are you going?-” Cynthia grabbed my hand and placed it on the poster board. “I have to go up to sing Cyn- it's 7:30 isn't it?” She opened and closed her mouth looking a bit like a fish, before finally answering. “Oh- yeah it is, you can go ahead-” She let go of my hand and continued staring at me as I walked up the stairs of the stage.

Originally it was me and five other girls- now it's just three. I smoothed down my polka dot dress and waited patiently, while the other three got to their mics and gave me a thumbs up. “Hello Frosty Palace! It is me, your Thursday night entertainment, Alias Foreman!” I gave the crowd a second to die down on clapping, hearing the T-Birds and Pink Ladies yell my name, Cynthia's voice sticking out the most as she whistled. “Tonight, me and my girls, Maria, Kt and Lain! Will be singing a song I wrote for a very special somebody.” The crowd roared up in "oooh"s, I looked over to the group, a few of the T-birds were tapping Cynthia's shoulder in a congratulate manor, she was confused but smiled at me anyways making eye contact. Behind her Shy Guy was looking back and forth from me to Cynthia and staring with a sorrowful smile. I smiled back at him with as much sympathy as I could muster on stage. “This is “Fallin’ for ya".” The band in the back started playing the music sheets I'd given them when I arrived at the shop a few hours earlier to practice.

“The day started ordinary, boys walking by.” l turned my head from left to right slowly like I was following the “boys”. There were people dancing with partners or friends and some alone but either way they all looked to be having a good time. “Ooh Ooh” - “It was the same old story, too fresh or too shy.” I kneeled down, booping Buddy on the nose and smiling sarcastically sweet. “I’m not the kind to fall for a guy who flashes a smile.” I looked down at Buddy one more time, waving him away from the stage. “It goes on for miles.” The girls and their angelic voices sang from beside me.

“Unusually swoon, but i'm over the moon!” I dramatically laid a hand on my forehead. “Cuz he was just too cool for school!” - “and now I’m fallin’ for ya!” We had a little dance on stage, we’d snap with the left hand by our head and with the right by our hip and keep changing them along with the beat.

“Fallin for ya! I know I shouldn't but I-“ I sang it with much more passion than i’d normally put into a song. my eyes were closed and as Cynthia said “I was practically making out with the mic” but it still didn't feel just right. Something is off, but I can't tell what.“-I Just can't stop myself from falling for ya! Fallin for ya!” The girls were looking at me surprised, I haven't sung like this in so long, most of it was a song someone requested or something I felt like doing that day- and even if this doesn't feel right, it feels good.

Looking out at the crowd there were people smiling with their lovers and friends. But the only smile I cared about was the bright one Cyn had on her face right now and it only got brighter when I looked at her. “Can't hold on any longer and now I'm falling for you.”

Again dancing to the music in the background, spinning one of the girls, giggling and going back to our respective mics. “Now we're going steady, he's the cat's meow” I hated having to replace the pronouns, it sort of felt like betrayal. “Meow Meow” I tore my headband off and shook my hair a bit to stop the headache that started to grow. “He says I'm a Betty and we paint the town.” Cyn always called me Betty jokingly ‘cause someone at a coffee shop didn't hear my name and called me Betty instead. I think that made her catch on to who the song is about, because once she fully processed the line, she went bright red. “ooh ooh” The girls were watching me, well more like me and Cynthia. They weren't making it obvious but I knew they were watching us.

“I'm not the kind to fall for a guy just cause he says hi,” My eyes wandered around the crowd, mostly kids from Rydell Highschool but also parents or older customers who come to watch me sing. “when he's cruising by” Maria, Kt, And Lain were the only people I trusted enough to tell I was a lesbian. We all ended up finding out we like girls, and jokingly (and secretly) called ourselves the first gay high school singers. The only other person who knows is Shy Guy. “He's ready to race and I'm catching his gaze” I winked at Jane and Olivia and waved to them. Cyn makes a little frowny face. “They’ll go on like this for days!” They all knew I liked Cynthia, but only the girls teased me about it. Shy Guy tried his best to be supportive but I think he would’ve liked it if it were another girl I had my eye on.

“And now I'm- Falling for ya, falling for ya” All four of us sang in harmony, the more me and Cynthia stared at each other the more right it felt to sing this song. “I know I shouldn't but I-” I felt like I was confessing to her on this stage, and that's exactly how I wanted it. I wanted her to know how I felt but also have plausible deniability if it doesn't work out well. “I just can't stop myself from- Falling for ya, falling for ya!” I loved her and wanted to scream it across rooftops in New york, but “My kind of people” aren't accepted in this world. At least that's what Ma says. “Can't hold on any longer and now I'm falling for you.”

The girls have this word they made up that goes well with the song “Shoop”, they repeat it four times each lyric and I love it so much because if it were used in real life it would be so stupid. “It feels like I tumbled from another world” I placed my hands on my shoulders and dramatically shook them. “Into your arms and it's so secure!” Cyn still held eye contact with me, Practically hypnotized as I sang. “Maybe I'll stumble but I know for sure, head over heels I'm gonna be your girl.”

The music continued for a short break. We had about a minute to run down the stairs, drag some people onto the dance floor and get back up to the stage. All four of us quickly ran down the stairs, I went to Shy Guy and Cynthia pulled them both up and dragged them down. Cyn grabbed onto me as I tried to leave, twirling me around, I smiled and pulled Shy Guy into her, giving him a wink and running back to the stage. It hurt a bit, but I wanted him to at least make a move with her if I couldn't.

Once I got back onto the stage we still had a few seconds to spare, so me and Maria were twirling together on different sides of the stage, laughing and giggling at the stupidity and ecstasy we were feeling…until it went sour and my foot was a little too close to the edge of the stage, I fell off, landing in someone's arms. Jonathan, Maria’s brother.

Fuck how do I cover this- how do I cover this?? Cynthia was running over to me as fast as my brother would drop his arms away from her. he had a defeated look on his face. “And now I'm falling for ya, falling for ya I know I shouldn't but I-” I hate to say it but the entire time I was staring at Cyn while I was being held in another man's arms. She was looking over me while John was holding me bridal style, but of course she was trying to wrangle me out of his arms at the same time. “I just can't stop myself from falling for ya,” When John set me back on my feet and Cyn went back to dancing with my brother, which she didn't look too interested in, kept looking back at me. I kept my grasp around John to make it look like I was looking at him but really she was the one who I couldn't look away from. “falling for ya, Can't hold on any longer and now I'm falling for you.” As the music died out, and the crowd started cheering, I was still looking at her, punching my brother's arm in a “you're a bro!” kind of way while they danced, I hated it.

I wanted to be the one dancing with her. John pushed me away from him, smiling at me awkwardly. “Thanks for catching me-..bro?” We both started laughing at how stupid I sounded. "Platonic?" I nodded, thanking whatever god for listening to my prayer. "Platonic." We did a short little hand shake, high five and walked away from each other. I went back to the stage, Lain handed me my jacket and gave me a pat on the back. “See you at home Ali?” I nodded, and gave her a hug, the other two had quick plans they needed to make it to, so they had already left.

“Tell mom and dad Cyn is bringing me home on her bike.” She rolled her eyes and laughed at me. “You know how much they hate that motorbike.” I smiled and pinched her cheek. “But they love the girl who drives it.” She swatted my hand away. “They aren't the only ones-” I pushed her away from me. “Shut up-” Both of us finally walked away. (I gave her the bird and she stomped away.)

“Alias!” I heard a voice calling me, her voice calling me. “Cyn! How’d you like my song?” She smiled brightly, Shy Guy depressingly making his way back to his seat. “I loved it! Who was it about!?” She was wide eyed and staring at me, eager to. “Well who do you think it was about?” Cynthia looked around and pulled me down to whisper in my ear. “Was it about me?-” I pulled back, looked her in the eye and with as much confidence as I could muster, nodded a silent yes. To my surprise, she was ecstatic. Bright red and practically jumping for joy. “Do you want to ditch these losers and get out of here- I heard there's an abandoned car shop somewhere outside of town.” This time I nodded rapidly, still trying to get my thoughts together. “Yes- yes!” She grabbed my hand and pulled me back to the table. “Hey! Alias has to be home soon so- me and her are going to get going.”

She let go of my hand. We kept looking at each other, smiling. Olivia was the first to speak up. “Did you two finally figure it out?” ..What? “What?-” Jane next. “Figure out that you like each other,” Cyn gasped, slapping Jane's shoulder. Jane looked offended, the bird brains and Olivia started laughing, and Nancy was rolling her eyes at the pinning. “I didn't tell her yet!-” Jane was smiling, hiding behind Olivia. “I'm sorry! I thought she knew because of how you were acting-”

Olivia rolled her eyes smiling at them both. “Go have fun you two- We’ll see you at school tomorrow?” Cynthia grabbed my hand dragging me off the platform. “Yeah yeah! Expect us both with a few new accessories!” She was walking backwards pointing at her neck and winking to the table, getting some whistles back from the T-Birds and a- “Hey that's still my sister!- I’ll kill you Cynthia-” -from Shy Guy. I hit Cyn in the head, Obviously flustered by her comment.

We got outside quickly, Throwing our Pink Lady jackets and our helmets on, climbing on the back of her bike. I clung to her waist and made sure my skirt wouldn't fly up. “You good back there pretty girl?” Her voice was a bit weary, like she was afraid to use the name. “I'm good, Hit the road!” I pulled the goggles to my helmet down, grabbing onto the sides of the backseat as my handles and letting the wind hit my body, just enjoying the feeling.

PT.2! Fallin' for ya

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

(Don't You) Steal My Thunder

my tyler owens playlist 🤝 inspiring fic titles

Tyler Owens x fem!reader  7k words

summary: Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's set on getting you on his good side. And the more you get to know him, the less you can resist.

a/n: i had to research sm car stuff for this it's not funny. i now know exactly how to describe a truck bed though, so. that's fun.

again, my inbox is wide open <33 i don't guarantee anything, but you can always come talk to me or request smth

masterlist | twisters masterlist

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met.

He prints his face on t-shirts, writes his autograph on mugs, comes up with ridiculous sayings ("Not My First Tornadeo" and "If you feel it, chase it" are really just the tip of the ice berg) and most importantly, he costs you the best shots of tornadoes every goddamn time.

Tyler Owens is a problem.

And Tyler Owens seems to have actively decided to make himself a problem too.

Which would be fine, if he flipped you the bird or told you to fuck off or threw his paper towels at you. Unluckily, those are rather examples of what you have done to him. Because it's not fine, not at all - no, Tyler Owens has decided that it's not enough to be in your way all the time, he has to seek you out and rub your nose in it.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's arrogant and he's entirely too full of himself. He brags too much and calls you "weather girl" too often. He gets under your skin more than you would ever admit.

And, as if all of that isn't enough - Tyler Owens is the very epitome of handsomeness.

It's like god didn't just have a good day when he created Tyler Owens, no, god must have still been in the post-haze of the best head he'd gotten in his whole immortal life when he'd created Tyler Owens.

Because Tyler Owens has the body of a greek god and the face of a Hollywood actor. He's not a pornstar, he's who pornstars worship. He's the Prince Charming little girls dream of and the Christian Grey grown women lust for.

Tyler Owens looks like everything you've ever wanted.

But he's just such a fucking asshole.

You wish you could say you didn't care. You'd love to be the kind of woman who didn't even acknowledge him. But you're not. You're not. You watch his videos when you can't sleep, you chuckle when you happen to overhear his jokes, you ogle his back when he's turned away from you. Sometimes, you get so lost in staring at him that you realise too late when he turns back around, and then you have to act unbothered when he grins his fucking grin at you. That's mostly when you flip him off, desperately fighting to ignore the heat in your cheeks.

Not like it stops him. You honestly feel like it only spurs him on.

Something has to seriously be wrong with him. It's not his face. But something is seriously wrong with him, you're sure of that.

Something has to be wrong with him. No sane person would ever go tornado wrangling. No hate to the rest of his crew - they're nice, you've managed to hold a few pretty normal conversations with them here and there - but none of them are sane either.

Storm chasing is different. You keep your distance. All you need are a few well-placed photographs - and those you can get from a rather safe number of miles away. The weather channel doesn't care about close-ups (not really, anyway). They want something to show the people on their comfortable couches, up in New Hampshire or Maine, so that all of them can say to each other "What poor folks, wouldn't wanna live there" and nod in pity as they switch the channel to watch another blockbuster.

You're just doing your job.

The only problem is that it's hard to do your job properly when there's always that fucking red truck in the way, driving down empty roads right into the heart of the tornado. And because no one on the news wants people to see that and go "Well, can't be too bad if there's still cars on the streets!", in the last few months - ever since you'd volunteered to move back to Oklahoma 'So that we've got someone right in Tornado Alley and don't have to fly people out there every time' - the weather channel has only shown the first few minutes of tornadoes forming. The rest of your pictures and videos lie abandoned in the trash file on your laptop. Except for a few - a very, very few, very, very good pictures of Tyler Owens and his Tornado Wranglers. But those won't ever see the light of day either.

You'd be damned if you let anyone know that while Tyler Owens is busy disturbing your actual work, you're busy taking pictures of him shooting fireworks into tornadoes. Pictures that would make for some damn good headers (if you hadn't buried them far, far down your gallery).

This time is no different. You get a few amazing shots of the tornado forming – surely an EF2, maybe even an EF3 - before you settle in the driver's seat again, your window rolled down and your camera hung around your neck as you push down on the gas. Then, a few miles further, you get even better shots of the full tornado, of the first few minutes of destruction, right there, in the middle of an empty field.

And as always, of course, just as the tornado takes on full form, you spot that familiar red truck through the lens of your camera. It speeds down the pavement right in front of where you’ve swerved onto the side of the road and you snap a few pictures, just because you’ve got the trigger right underneath your finger. Honestly, something about that dirty red paint against the grey skies just looks too good not to capture. But then the truck comes closer and closer and starts to slow down and you let your camera sink.

Tyler has his window rolled down already when he stops the car. There’s that annoyingly handsome grin on his lips, the one that makes you want to slap him across the face.

“You’re too far away, weather girl”, he calls out above the rumble of distant wind and thunder. “The good pictures are down that way.”

“The good pictures are right here.” You lift your camera at him. “Maybe you just need to update your equipment.”

Tyler’s grin widens, but before he can throw another of those obnoxious retorts your way, Lilly’s voice rings out through the car.

“Hey, T, looks like it’s changing course. You should hurry.”

His eyes are still glued to yours, still glued so firmly to yours that it makes your skin crawl. You can’t look away, couldn’t possibly look away. Tyler Owens might just be a cocky asshole, but you’re only human. And the weight of his gaze on yours is enough to keep you stuck in place, clutching at your camera.

“We’re on our way, Lilly”, he drawls without looking away from you. “See you around, weather girl.”

The rest of the pictures you take land in your trash file with all the other pictures of the last few weeks. You’re laying in bed, your laptop propped up against a pillow, the empty plate from dinner on the mattress next to you as you sort through today’s work. That’s the good thing about the time difference – you’ve got until seven to send the channel the day's results.

By nine, you’ve showered, put on a dress you feel confident in and settled on one of the chairs at the local bar. You’ve been telling yourself you need to get out a little bit more – you’ve been living here three months now and you haven’t really made any friends so far. To be fair, your job has kept you out and about most of the time. You’ve spent more hours at gas stations to fill up your tank than you have in your own home. But now you’ve decided to put an end to that. You're a young woman in a new town, you can meet more people than just the cashier at the local supermarket.

So for the past twenty minutes, you’ve been nursing a mojito at the counter and talking to the bartender. She’s nice, she’s your age, she’s extroverted enough to keep sidling up to you after every time she has to excuse herself to do her job. That, and she tells you she’s grown up here, so she knows most of the people around. She’s just serving another customer – a long-haired, brown-eyed, hat-wearing country guy who’s already shared a smile or two with you – when someone rests their arm on the countertop next to you.

“Didn’t expect to see you here”, he drawls, all low, deep Southern accent and you recognise his voice before you’ve even tilted your head up and looked at him. His grin drips down onto his words and wraps itself around your mind.

Tyler Owens isn’t just annoying – he’s unbelievable. He's unbelievable and he’s here.

“So you’re stalking me now”, you say, as drily as you can possibly manage. You've been doing that a lot around him. Dead-panning everything. Schooling your expression into fake neutrality.

"I'm here all the time, weather girl", he grins. "If anything, you're stalking me."

You snort, but it's rather unfunny when you think of all the videos you've watched, hours after they'd been livestreamed, cuddled up in your bed until midnight just to stare at his face. He's not that far from the truth.

"In your dreams, Owens", you say anyway, dragging your eyes back towards your almost empty cocktail glass. You wrap your lips around your straw and drain your drink entirely. What you say and what you do, none of that matters in the end. All of this is just show. Every conversation you've had with Tyler Owens in the last three months has been nothing but a performance. Other than your name, you don't think a single sentence out of your mouth has been honest. Not when it comes to him.

"Let me buy you a beer" is the only answer you get.

His grin widens when you look back up again - so cocky, so unbelievably cocky.

"I don't drink."

You push your glass an inch further down the bar top. Tyler raises his eyebrows. Fuck, someone really needs to kick him in the face. You can't keep having all these little heart attacks whenever he's close enough that you could touch him if you wanted.

Not that you want to.

"You're drinking right now", he says. You rest your palms against the bar top and blink at him.

"I don't drink with you."

He lets out a chuckle, one of those deep ones that settle right in your chest and make it hard to swallow.

"Just this once?", he asks and in all honesty, for just a second there, you actually consider giving in. He's too handsome for his own good. You really need to get it together. He's an ass (what an ass, goddamn). And he's insane. He's an insane ass. Sometimes you have to remind yourself of that - those times like now, when his piercing eyes and his kissable lips and his rugged stubble and his broad, broad shoulders and his drawled voice overshadow everything else.

"Don't you have some livestreaming to do?", you ask, hoping it still comes across just as sarcastic when you're the slightest bit distracted by how gloriously tight the sleeves of his flannel are. "Go chasing tornadoes, not me."

His grin widens inexplicably further. You're sure that if you were in a comic, there'd be a lightbulb flashing above his head right about now.

"Well", he drawls, "if you feel it..."

"Don't you do that shit to me, Owens."

He's raising his eyebrows again, raising his eyebrows as you clasp your hand around your empty glass so hard your knuckles turn white. But you're serious. Just as you'd lost yourself in the view of him, that angelic, sinful view of him, he'd gone and reminded you why you were so adamant to keep your distance. If you feel it, chase it. Ridiculous. Obnoxious. He's an arrogant, know-it-all, suicidal job-wrecker. He's the guy with cameras pointed at him everywhere he goes. He signs mugs and selfies and hats and shirts and bras. He's the reason you haven't gotten a single un-edited shot of a fully formed tornado in the last three months.

"You're not a fan of my catchphrase, weather girl?"

He can't even pretend to look wounded (even though he tries) with how big the grin on his lips still is. You stare right at him, dead-eyed and unflinching.

"I'm not a fan of you."

Lies slip off your tongue so easily by now that you wonder when you'd become morally compromised enough to not even care anymore. It must've happened somewhere along the way, sometime between the first conversation you'd had with him and the one you're having with him right now.

"You wound me", he grins, his palm pressed to his chest.

For the first time tonight, you allow yourself to grin back at him.

"I try."

With that, you slip off your chair and wave the bartender goodbye. You're already two steps away when Tyler calls after you.

"I'd still buy you a beer."

"I'm still not drinking with you", you call back. You don't turn around again. You just make your way back to your car and mark the evening as a half-successful night of socialising on your to-do list.

...

You see him again first thing the next day. Of course. Because there's no tornadoes without the Tornado Wranglers on their tail. By now, you're used to it. You wave at Dani as they come back out of the store at the gas station you're waiting at. They've got both arms full of coffees and for a second, you consider offering your help, but then you hear Tyler shout something out of his car and you suddenly don't feel any desire whatsoever to get up. You've sat yourself down in your truck bed, your camera slung around your neck and the radar on your lap. If all goes right, you're hoping for a tornado to form a little to the east from here. And as much as you dislike Tyler Owens, the fact that he's here soothes your nerves. Where he goes, there's sure to be tornadoes close by.

The few times you hadn't seen him had never ended well for you. You'd missed an EF3 your second week here just because you'd followed the wrong hunch. Meanwhile Tyler, of course, had been in the middle of it.

This might just be the one singular situation that you welcome seeing his red truck around. As long as you can manage to overtake him on the road after.

It's not that you need to be faster. You don't need to reach the tornado first. You don't even take the same way as him most of the time. He wants in there, you just want a sensible picture. Still, you can't help but feel a pang of disappointment every time you hit the brakes and jump out of your car, miles away from the actual cell as Tyler speeds down towards it. You've been telling yourself that it's because he ruins your pictures. It kind of is.

"Hey, weather girl!"

You let out a resigned breath as you tilt your head up and squint against the sun. He's still in his truck, his window rolled down, his elbow propped up against the car door.

"What do you want, Owens?"

Your fingers itch to reach for your camera. It's a visual, him in that fucking car, leaning out of his window with the sun peaking out behind him. But you can't, you can't take a picture of him this openly. Even if you were to argue that it's just the light you'd wanted to capture.

"To give you some advice", he calls out, his lips pulling into a grin. You raise your eyebrows at him. "East isn't gonna work out. Wind's changing. Go south."

He throws you a mock salute and hits the gas before you can say anything else.

Not that you'd been about to.

Instead you just curse to yourself, jump off the truck bed and throw your treacherous technology into the passenger seat with a little too much vigor. Fuck this. You sit at the steering wheel and stare out at the sky for exactly two seconds before you make your decision. Then you start your car and drive south.

You may not be a fan of Tyler Owens, but you've long since admitted to yourself that this man has got a gift. He has an unbeatable instinct when it comes to storms. And sure, you have your fair share of knowledge, but in the end, you're a photographer, not a meteorologist. You won't miss a day's work just because you're too proud to listen to Tyler.

You're a little further behind, but you can spot his truck and guess that he's driving straight on into the cell today, so you take a right and decide to try your luck with the side of the tornado. Not being right in its path doesn't sound too bad anyway.

You actually manage to snap a few well-placed pictures. You don't know what Tyler's doing, but it seems like he's not shooting random shit up the cell today. You'll watch the stream later - you're just the slightest bit curious now what's happening with them. Maybe they're doing some old-school chasing? Or maybe they're doing a challenge. Maybe Tyler is driving blindfolded. At this point, who knows.

It's good for you though. It's a considerable tornado today, an EF2 at least, and you only spot Tyler's red truck again when the cell moves further down the fields, away from him. It doesn't look like it's gonna disappear anytime soon. Maybe today's your lucky day.

Half an hour later, you're sure you've got at least a dozen pictures of the fully formed tornado, long touched down and without the red truck in the way.

You're just packing up your things, already sifting through the photos on your camera, squinting against the sunlight, trying to both tug the zipper of your bag closed and hit the right buttons at the same time when Tyler pulls up next to you.

"You look busy, weather girl", he says, already grinning that damn grin again.

"I am", you say - truthfully, for once. You let go of your bag and lower your camera. You're hesitant, but... "Thanks for the tip."

"Anytime", he grins. "Just do me one favour."

You already know this can't be good. Not with that cheeky look on his face. But he'd just saved you from chasing hot air (quite literally), so he deserves a little treat. And you don't want unsettled scores with Tyler Owens.

"I want to know what favour that's supposed to be before I agree", you say anyway, because with him, you can never be too careful. And in the end, you're only willing to do so much. (Though for him, you'd already do a lot more than you'd admit. A lot more than you hope he's aware of.)

"Let me buy you a beer", he says, and for once, he sounds serious.

The memory of yesterday night flashes before your eyes, of those same words at the bar. With him so close, way too close - with that grin and that stubble and that voice and those shoulders. You cross your arms and stare at him.

"If you're livestreaming this, I'm gonna sue your ass so hard."

He just lets out a chuckle and raises his hands in surrender.

"Cameras are off, I swear."

You stare at him for another silent ten or so seconds. At him in that fucking truck that looks just a little too good in your pictures. At him and his fucking face. That fucking face that you certainly wouldn't mind sitting on, if just to shut him up.

God, he's asking you to drink something with him. He's asking to buy you something to drink with him. You're stupid.

You're so, so stupid.

"Alright, cowboy", you say, uncrossing your arms and reaching for the handle of your car door. "I'll humour you."

...

You're in the bar again by nine that night, the same way you had been the day before. You're wearing a different dress and there's a different bartender, but you've ordered the same mojito and chosen the same place to sit.

Only this time, you're actively watching the door. And when Tyler strolls in, you've got to shift around in your seat and cross your legs. You don't even pretend you're not staring. You just ogle him openly. Not for the first time ever - you'd checked him out very obviously when he'd strutted towards you to introduce himself three months ago - but definitely for the first time in a while. And god yeah, he's a hunk of a man, alright. If you had your camera here right now...

But you don't. So instead, you drop your eyes to his feet (brown leather boots), drag them up his legs (blue jeans), over his chest (red checkered flannel), over his face (god, what you wouldn't give-) and finally rest them on the cowboy hat on top of his head.

When he's close enough to hear you, already grinning, of course, probably at how you're actually sitting there in the same spot as yesterday and hadn't just lied to his face about coming here, you raise your eyebrows at him.

"A cowboy hat?", you ask, your voice as unbothered as you can possibly manage (even though you're very, very, very much bothered right now). His grin only widens.

"Ladies love country boys", he drawls with a shrug.

"Now that's straight out of a song", you say. "You're getting lazy, Owens."

"A song?", he asks. "No, that's an Owens Original."

You pull your eyebrows even further up.

"Ladies love country boys? Trace Adkins?"

"Nope. Not familiar."

But his grin tells you that he's lying. He's a liar. He knows very well where he got that line from. And he knows just how easily he got under your skin with his simple trick. As if his face isn't enough already.

You just shake your head and turn away from him.

"Put your money where your mouth is, Owens. Buy me a beer."

...

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also a great conversationalist.

The hours fly by as you're talking. One beer turns into two, then into an uncountable number of soft drinks. You both agree that you need to drive home, neither of you is willing to risk a run-in with the police. You need your drivers license for your jobs.

Tyler talks to you about the pictures you've taken today, then about the pictures from last week. He laughs when you blame him for ruining half of them and almost spits out his coke when you slap his arm for laughing at you. He tells you about his crew, about the people they've helped with the money from their dumb t-shirt sales. You think you hate him less by the minute. You're not sure if you're okay with that. But he gets you talking about your childhood and your parents, about school and college and about how you've wound back up here in Oklahoma. That effectively distracts you.

That, and how his cocky grin morphs into a genuine smile the more you open up.

Not that you didn't love the cocky grin. You did, just a bit. As obnoxious as it was. But the way he smiles at you all sweet has you melting right in your spot.

It's not the first time you realise that beneath all that rough exterior, there beats a heart of gold. You've known what those t-shirt sales are for, that he offers food and water after a tornado hits a town, that he carries the injured out of the ruins of their houses and helps find lost dogs. The more you've been around him in the past weeks, the more you've seen of his soft side. Of the way he cares and supports. But in the end, it always is easier to go back to the status quo - to fall back onto mindless snark and fleeting first impressions.

You'd clung so desperately to the image of him as this arrogant, smug, holier-than-thou influencer god for the sole purpose of keeping your own sanity. Because you'd known that without despising him, you would fall head over heels for Tyler Owens, and you just couldn't have that.

But now, with his arm brushing against yours and his hat discarded on the bar top and his smile, that beautiful, beautiful smile on his lips...

"Five bucks", he drawls, already reaching for his wallet.

"What?"

"Five bucks says there won't be a tornado tomorrow."

You raise your eyebrows at him, your glass hovering in mid-air between the two of you. You'd meant to take a sip, but now you're setting it right back down on the bar top.

"You're shitting me."

Tyler just shakes his head. He's grinning again, but it's much softer this time around.

"The winds are looking great. The forecast says it's gonna be the best conditions for tornadoes we've seen in the last six weeks. I've heard Dexter talk about how we're probably gonna see an EF4 tomorrow", you tell him, even though you're sure he's well aware of all of it. This is Tyler Owens, for god's sake. He knows about the winds and the forecasts. He knows that his crew is making preparations already.

His grin only grows. And it's smug now. It's cocky now. It's everything you thought you'd left behind during this conversation. He looks like the Tornado Wrangler again, like the guy who fucks up your pictures and makes your job harder than it already is.

It takes you a second too long to realise why.

"Dexter said that on our live", he grins, as if he can't quite believe what he's hearing. You physically recoil from him. "Do you watch our streams, weather girl?"

"No", you breathe, rigid and frozen, shocked to your very core. No, no, no, no, this cannot be happening. This cannot be happening. You'd... You hadn't made that mistake. He hadn't got you to make that mistake.

"Dexter talked about tomorrow on our live", Tyler says again, straightening his back and grinning down at you like he's just uncovered the lost grave of Cleopatra. "Only on the live. You watched our stream."

"No", you mutter, your eyes wide and your mouth dry, so dry. You need to drink. You need to drink so badly. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did. You watched our stream, honey."

The petname runs down your spine and clogs your senses. Honey. Oh, he's an ass, he's an asshole! But you're on the spot, you're on the spot and he's calling you honey, honey, honey. You can't do anything but watch as he leans closer to you, grinning down at you like it's his one true purpose on this earth, like he wants to eat you alive.

"I'd say you watch our streams pretty regularly, weather girl."

You swallow hard and clasp your hand around your glass.

"Yeah?", you breathe, hoping against all hope that your voice sounds somewhat innocent. You're sure it doesn't. You know it doesn't. You probably sound as guilty as you are, but... Hope dies last. Hope always dies last. "Why would you say that?"

"Just a hunch." He shows off those pearly fucking whites for you. "Call it an instinct. I'm usually right."

He is.

He's right now. He's right usually.

Him and his fucking instinct. His goddamn gut feeling about tornadoes, always right all the fucking time. He's like an Oklahoma Jesus. The first coming of Tornado Christ.

Fuck him.

Fuck him.

"I'll take your bet." You drain your glass at once. "Give me your five bucks, Owens."

You don't think it'll work. You don't think he'll let you distract him. You don't think it'll be this easy to stop his vile teasing. He's not the type of guy to let something go. He's not the type of guy to let anything go ever. But he looks at you and he grins at you and he trails his eyes over your face and then he opens up his wallet and pulls out five dollars without another word.

He puts the bill flat on the bar top.

But when you go to reach for it, he pushes his fingers down.

"The price just went up", he says.

You raise your eyebrows and let your hand sink again. Tyler is absolutely unpredictable. You should've known.

"The price just went up?", you repeat. He nods. "What more do you want to bet?"

He's closer now, closer all of a sudden. He's too close, close enough to make your breath hitch. He's looking down at you with that cocky, cheeky grin, with his weirdly green eyes, with his three day stubble and his generally much too symmetrical face. You can't do anything but look back up at him.

"A kiss", he says. Simple as that.

A kiss.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He is. Truly. He's annoying and way too full of himself and much too presumptuous. Tyler Owens is the only man who would ever do something like this. The only man who'd bet a kiss on whether or not there will be tornadoes tomorrow.

Especially with that forecast.

The one that says a tornado is basically inevitable.

"Alright", you say. He may be Tyler Owens, the guy with an infallible instinct - but he is also Tyler Owens, the guy who's been doing his hardest to get under your skin. This time might not be any different. For all you know, he's bluffing to rile you up. "I'm in."

...

At eleven the next day, you're standing next to Dexter in resigned silence.

"I really thought today was gonna pan out", you mutter.

"It should have", Dexter frowns, tapping against the screen in his hands. "It should have worked out. The conditions should have been perfect. Everything's been building the last few days."

"But it collapsed this morning."

You turn your head and watch as Tyler comes to a stand next to you, arms crossed, eyes locked on the clear sky up above. He tilts his head to you and grins. Fuck, he's wearing his goddamn hat again. It's like he doesn't even try to be normal.

"Hey, weather girl", he greets. "Ready to cash out your bet?"

You shake your head at him. No, you're not giving up this easily. You never give up this easily.

"The day's not over yet, Owens. You haven't won 'til midnight."

...

You spend most of the next hours sitting in your truck bed, reading a book you'd thrown into your backseat weeks ago and had so far neglected. Lilly hands you lunch around two, Dani offers you a coffee around five and Boone pipes up here and there to joke about the wasted day. Around six, Dexter comes by to let you know they're calling it.

You still have another hour to go. By seven, it'll be too late to send your pictures anyway. But you want the hour. You need the hour.

You still haven't decided what to do about Tyler. About Tyler and his fucking bet.

He's been loitering the whole day, walking by, joking around with his crew, livestreaming a spontaneous q&a just because.

And the more minutes tick by, the harder it is to keep ignoring that you've most definitely lost the bet. Even though you do your best. You read, you check your phone. You stare at your radar. You stare at the weather forecast. You talk to Dexter and Dani and Lilly and Boone. You take a few pictures of the sky. Then you take a few pictures of Tyler, standing some feet away from his truck and looking out at the clouds.

It's only when two of three Tornado Wranglers cars are disappearing down the road, when Tyler Owens suddenly stands in front of your truck bed, that you put down your book and face reality.

"No tornadoes in sight", he says, instead of 'Hello' or 'How are you' like any other person would.

"There's still six hours left", you reason. Even if only one of those is relevant for your job today.

"You really want to wait out six hours to prove I'm right?"

"You're not right", you argue. It's fruitless, it's stupid, it's unreasonable. But... "Not yet, anyway."

Tyler raises his eyebrows at you, lets out an amused chuckle and leans against the side of your truck bed.

"Alright, so we wait."

You eye him from the side. He's fucking leaning against your truck, staring out at the sky, talking about six hours. Goddamn. He can't be serious, can he? His crew is already gone. They've disappeared into the descending sun and he's talking about waiting another six hours. Leaned against your car.

"Fuck's sake, Owens", you sigh, scooching over to the right. "At least sit down then."

You don't talk much at first. You just open your book back up again and try your hardest to ignore that he's even here at all, barely two feet away from you on the other side of your truck bed. If you stretched your leg, you'd hit him right in the hip.

It makes reading close to impossible.

Even though he's not doing anything at all. He's just sitting there, one arm propped up on the side board, that goddamn cowboy hat on his head and his feet hanging off the opened tailgate. It's almost worse that he's not doing anything.

That he's just sitting there and watching the sky change.

You give up on reading entirely when you realise that you've finished exactly five pages in half an hour. Instead, you put your book back in the car, pull out your bluetooth speaker and two water bottles and offer Tyler one of them.

You don't even ask him what music he wants to listen to. You just put on your country playlist and roll with it. By the twitch of his lips, you know he certainly doesn't mind.

Another half hour later, it's starting to get chilly and you're beginning to grow bored of the music. Tyler sitting next to you makes you fidgety, somehow, and you can't really enjoy the songs you usually love so much. So you switch to a podcast. You don't ask Tyler if he minds. He's free to go anytime.

Around eight, the sun starts to set, and the chill turns into an unpleasant cool. You hadn't really expected to be sitting out here so long. You're not prepared for the temperature to drop. You're wearing shorts, for god's sake, shorts and a top. It's summer in Oklahoma - you don't know how Tyler even manages to survive in his long jeans. You certainly wouldn't.

But now you're a little jealous, to be honest. He doesn't look cold in the slightest while you're fighting off shivers. You can feel your hands trembling already.

You really should've brought a jacket. But who brings jackets in 30 degree summer weather?

So instead, you just resign yourself to your fate and rub your hands along your arms. Anything to get some warmth into your body.

For the first time since you've sat back down, Tyler turns his head and looks at you.

"You're cold", he says, eyes raking over your arms and the goosebumps you'd gotten.

"Great observational skills, Sherlock Holmes", you deadpan, even though he doesn't really deserve that. He had so far left you pretty much alone. "A+ on that assignment."

Well, it's hard to break bad habits.

Tyler just chuckles, shakes his head and pushes off of the truck bed. You watch, eyes narrowed, as he walks back to his own car, opens up the trunk and- pulls out a blanket?

Your hands have sunken down to your lap all by themselves by the time he's standing in front of you again, holding out the blanket.

"For you, Watson", he grins as you slowly, carefully take the blanket from him. You mutter something along the lines of a soft 'Thank you' before you wrap the blanket around your arms.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also the very definition of "Tough on the outside, soft on the inside". Sometimes, you think the word 'angelic' works for more than just his divine looks.

Your eyes are glued to him as he sits back down next to you and looks out at the darkening sky with that signature grin on his lips, like he knows that you're watching him and enjoys it more than he should. That doesn't deter you though. For the very first time. You don't even stop staring when he turns his head back to you. You don't even stop staring then.

You just look at him until his grin crumbles. Until he's smiling that smile from yesterday night, the one that has your heart squeezing together and then exploding in your chest. You think you could stare at that smile for the rest of eternity and never feel sated.

"What?", he asks, his voice so soft it makes you swallow. Your lips part, but there's no words on your tongue, none in your throat. They're stuck in your chest somewhere, wrapped around your heart so tightly that you can't let them go even now. So you just press your lips together, wrap your blanket tighter around yourself and say:

"So I'm Watson, yeah?"

Your podcast is long forgotten by the time the sky turns dark. So dark that you make Tyler climb into your car and turn on the lights. You're comfortable in your blanket, you don't feel the need to move.

It's around ten when the blanket isn't enough anymore.

You tuck your hands underneath your top, but that only helps for so long. A few minutes later, you're trembling again, trembling even though you're pulling the blanket as tightly around you as you possibly can. Tyler raises his eyebrows when a particularly heavy shiver runs down your spine, one of those that come and go within three seconds.

"Come here", he says, shuffling in his spot and motioning for you to move over to him. You don't really think about it. It's more of a reflex as you fumble the blanket off of your body, scooch over to him, settle yourself against his side and sneak your feet under his thigh. He tugs the blanket back up to your chin, tucks it in behind your back and wraps his arms around you.

Tyler Owens wraps his arms around you.

And he's so fucking warm you literally almost moan. God, you hadn't actually realised just how cold you'd been.

"Damn, you're freezing", he notes as well, just as you nestle further into him and hum in agreement. He's like a living heater right now. You'd like to just crawl inside of him and suck up all his warmth. "You should've told me sooner."

"I didn't tell you at all", you mutter, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. He smells good. He smells so good. Earthy, musky somehow. You're tempted to turn your head and bury your nose in his shoulder.

Instead, you just satisfy yourself with what you can get. Fuck, he smells so good. He smells just like you'd thought he would, like country and rodeo and thunderstorms. He smells like falling into bed at the end of a successful chase. He smells like more. You want more.

You want more of Tyler Owens.

"Are you sniffing me?", he asks suddenly, but he sounds so amused you can't even bring yourself to feel embarrassed. You just open your eyes and grin at him, tilting your head so you can look up at him.

"What if I am?", you ask, if only to hear that breathless chuckle fall from his lips. Oh, those lips. You're in trouble. "Are you gonna call the cops on me?"

"I could never."

"Yeah, you better not, cowboy", you mutter, eyes dropping to his lips when he grins. He's so close. He's way too close. "There's like thirty things I could call the cops about on your channel."

His grin grows until he's showing off his teeth, glinting against the low light of the leds in your car. He's closer now.

"So you do watch our streams, weather girl."

His voice is so low and he's so close, so close. Your lips part all on their own. You haven't looked back up at his eyes in too long. Far too long. But he's so close, and he's so warm, and he smells so good.

"Alright", you whisper. His mouth is barely an inch from yours. You can feel every breath he takes. "I watch your streams."

And then your lips are on his.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's smug. He makes your job harder than it has to be. He does everything and anything to get under your skin. But Tyler Ownes is the best goddamn kisser this side of the globe.

He trails his hands, his big, big hands, down your sides, pushes the blanket out of the way and grabs at your waist with just enough firmness. He pulls you onto his lap and rests his thumbs over the hem of your top. He breathes into your mouth and takes it slow. He doesn't care that you almost knock his hat out of the way when you try to wrap your arms around his neck. He just holds you tightly to him and lets you tug on his lip.

You honestly don't know how much time has passed when he pulls back, grinning an entirely new grin at you, hazy and euphoric.

"It's not midnight yet", he mutters, the slightest bit out of breath.

"I don't care", you mumble, drawing him right back in for another kiss. You think you might be addicted. You simply can't get enough of him. You can't get enough of Tyler Owens.

But then a thought strikes you, and you pull away with a grin that makes him raise his eyebrows.

You chuckle against his lips.

"If you feel it, chase it, right?"

[loverslodge]

very discreet

summery: you and bucky have a relationship nobody is aware of. they keep trying to set him up with other women while bucky is trying to avoid them.

pairing: Grumpy!Bucky x Quiet!Reader

warning: SMUT, fluff, bad writing???, swearing

A/N: clearly i have a thing for grumpy bucky but i also have a thing was hidden relationships. you can read the asks for this fic at the lodge's BNB and also here is the steve's story in this universe

“Oh come on Bucky, how long will you stay single? Don't you think it's time you start looking for a partner?” Natasha pointed her knife at Bucky while they were polishing their weapons.

“I don't need anyone, Nat.” Bucky sighs and keeps on cleaning his guns.

“Bullshit!” Natasha stabs the wooden table beside Bucky. “We're all wrung out after missions and we all need a release. You know better than to stay holed up in a room with veins full of adrenaline. If not a girlfriend, get some beneficial partner.” Natasha shrugged.

“You might be doing that, Nat but I really don't need someone. I am happy where I am.” Bucky picks up his guns and arranges them back in their place. He wipes his workstation clean and walks out.

The mission today wasn't that bad but Bucky felt tired. The entire team has been on his case for over two months. How can he convince them that he doesnt need anyone? He's fine where he is. In fact, he is happier than ever and he would never trade this with anything else.

He walks in his room and wearily grabs his towel and sweatpants to take a shower. He turns on the water and stands under it till he hears his bathroom door being opened. He turns on the hot water to the right temperature and shuffles to make space. He hears some rustling and the shower curtain is pulled slightly open. You, very slowly step in and stand under the water source.

“I missed you, doll.” Bucky wraps his arms around you. You nod with a slight blush.

You pull out the loofah and pour the body wash on it. Bucky takes it from your hand and starts helping you clean up. Once you are covered in soap, you turn to Bucky and return the favor. Washing away the grime, dirt and tiredness of the day, you both towel each other dry.

“Bucky,” You point at one of his t-shirts from the wardrobe and look down thinking he might reject what you're asking.

“You don't need to ask me, doll. What's mine is yours.” He pulls a t-shirt on you and kisses your cheek. You nod and blush even more. You shuffle onto the bed and snuggle to your side of the bed, waiting patiently for Bucky to come.

“Tell me about your day, doll. Was it very draining?” he slips into the bed and brings you closer. You wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face in his chest and nod a yes.

He sighs in content and pulls the comforter up. Your legs are parted and one of them is resting on Bucky’s hips. He kisses your forehead and his metal arm slowly drags to your inner thighs. You weren't wearing any underwear, giving complete access to Bucky, as he plunged his metal middle finger into your core. You gasp and your hold around Bucky tightens. He pulls out his finger and rubs your clit, making you moan in his chest. His hold on your waist tightens as he pushes two fingers in you again and uses his thumb to caress your nub. Your moans and gasps fill the quiet room as you reach the edge. You twist a little and put your hand on your mouth as you come all over Bucky’s sweatpants. You sigh and push Bucky a little, signaling him to grab new sweatpants. He complies and snuggles back into the bed against you.

……………………

The kitchen was lively today. Nobody was on a mission so the atmosphere was very relaxed. But not everyone was relaxing.

“Bucky, come on, go on this date. She's really nice and totally your type.” Sam pushed the topic further.

“How do you know my type, bird brain?” Bucky walked behind the kitchen counter.

You were standing there, making lunch for everyone while Bucky helped. Bucky would discreetly hold your waist or find a way to keep close to you in the kitchen. You were a blushing mess but Bucky didn't mind. As he saw nobody was looking, he kissed your cheek and went to the fridge to pretend as if nothing had happened. You just stood there with eyes wide.

“Let me help out.” Bucky very subtly held your waist and moved you away from the stove and started stirring the soup pot. He knew he had shocked you enough and you needed to calm down.

“She's all goth. You grunt, she stares. It's like a match made in heaven, Tinman. Go out with her. Nat arranged the date for you.” Sam continued and Nat nodded.

You looked up and saw Bucky roll his eyes and shake his head. His hand went to his chest and caressed his shirt before going back to the stove.

“I'm not going anywhere. I've told you before, I do not want to go on dates. I am happy where I am.”

“Too late, Barnes. She'll be waiting for you at the cafe this evening. I've already arranged the date and promised her. You can't back out now.” Nat warned Bucky.

“What the fuck, Nat! I told you I'm not interested. Cancel it. Im not going and thats final.” Bucky slams the stirring spoon on the counter and stomps out of the kitchen but not before subtly nudging you to follow.

“Talk some sense into him. He listens to you. Tell him it is a good idea to meet new people,” Sam pleads to you.

You just shake your head and grab some soup in two bowls. One for you and one for Bucky. The rest of the team gather slowly to grab the soup.

You stop in front of your door and knock. A furrowed eyed Bucky opens the door and side steps to let you in.

You hold out the soup bowl towards Bucky who has turned his back to you. “Bucky?”

Your quiet whisper of his name was enough to melt his brains off. He stands up and takes the soup bowl from your hand, putting it to the side. He hugs you and nuzzles his head in your neck, breathing in deeply. Your hand instinctively wraps around his waist and you start rubbing his back to calm him down.

“They just won't let it go. I'm sorry, doll. I wish I could give a better reason to them.” Bucky mumbles into your neck, sending waves of goosebumps all over your body.

“It's okay. Go.” You try to make him go because you know what it's like to be stood up and you know for the fact that Bucky will stand the girl up.

“I'm not gonna listen to you this time, doll. This is ridiculous. I am not leaving and that is final. Maybe I'll send one of those apology flowers you talk about to her through Happy.” he tightens his hold on you. You sigh. You knew it was pointless from getting him to change his mind.

You just wanted him to go and tell the girl that he is committed elsewhere but he is so stubborn that he won't even listen to what you have to say so you try to pull away to at least have him finish his soup.

“No. stop pulling away.” He sits back on bed with you in his lap, not even letting you go. You giggle and try to make space between the two of you so you can at least grab the soup bowl.

“Bucky, soup.” You manage to release your hand point at the bowls.

“Fine. but only because you are hungry and you made this with so much love.” His stomach grumbles and he makes a face, making you giggle even more.

His frown melts into a smile and he grabs your face, peppering kisses all over it, making you giggle and laugh. “This is why I'm not going anywhere. You are perfect, doll. I love you.”

……………………

“You piece of shit! Did you seriously stand her up? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Nat blasted at him and threw a punch at him.

Bucky ducked and svewerd to the side to keep you safe. You were standing very close to Bucky to hide the fact that he was holding your waist. But just as Nat threw a punch at him, he pulled away and moved away from you.

“Are you crazy? You could have hurt her.” Bucky pointed at you while dodging Nat’s punches. “And I sent flowers to say sorry. I told you I am not interested. When I say no, accept it.”

Bucky blocks Nat’s punches with his metal arm and pushes her away. Before she could do more damage, Steve walks in and stands between Bucky and Nat.

“Enough, both of you. This is not a dueling ground. Walk it off, Romanov. And you, Bucky, let's talk.” Steve nods at you and guides Bucky out of the gym leaving you sigh in relief.

That night, everyone had dinner on their own. You weren't very keen on cooking so you, Bucky and Steve got pizza together. They had put on Harry Potter since you loved talking about it.

Bucky couldn't keep his eyes off of you as you mouthed the dialogues with the characters. He smiled. Steve nudged Bucky and shook his head with a smile.

Steve loved seeing his best friend so happy. Steve loved you like a sister too. Your quiet and shy nature had calmed Steve in many situations and he was grateful. You had taken Steve’s side during the fallout and helped Bucky without a complaint. Surprisingly Bucky wanted to keep you by his side. Steve saw Bucky open up to you and you accepted him naturally. One day Steve found Bucky cuddled up with you and he knew this was his brother’s happy ending.

“I'm off to bed. Doll, take care,” Steve kissed your forehead. “Buck, please stop fighting with people. And think about what I said, both of you. I know where you come from but think about it before it causes more such issues.”

Steve closed the door behind him as he walked out and went off to bed. You turned off the movie and got up to throw the boxes away. Bucky took the boxes from you and walked out of the room to throw them off while you cleaned up the room and got ready to sleep.

Bucky walked in, took off his shirt and crawled in the bed beside you. “What are you thinking, doll?” He saw your solemn expression.

“Maybe Steve is right.” You whisper quietly, fumbling with the edge of the blanket.

Bucky holds your hand and pulls you close to lie on his chest. “Are you worried? I will do what you want to do, doll.”

“You have been doing what we want, Bucky, but after today, I didn't think it would get this serious.”

“Are you talking about my little tiff with Nat? It worked out at the end. You know that.” Bucky kissed your forehead.

“That and the fact that you got set up on a date. I-i know that you won't ever go but, it-it scared me. I-” Your voice started to waver.

You cried on Bucky’s chest. He lifted your face up and wiped away the tears, kissing your forehead.

“Doll, I get it. That's what made me more angry. They were talking about it to you as well. Trying to involve you in their little plans. I hated that you had to listen to all of that.”

“So? What do you think?” You lift your face and rest your chin on his chest, looking at him.

“Don't tell Steve I said this, it'll get to his head, but he is right.”

You rise up to give him a peck but Bucky pulls you for a deeper kiss. You moan and straddle his waist. He lifts your (his) t-shirt up and throws it on the floor, without letting his lips leave yours. You grind against his clothed erection.

“Didn't wear any panties, doll? My perfect girl.”

He flips you and removes his sweatpants. He aligns himself against your folds and slowly pushes himself in. your back arches on the bed and a loud moan escapes your throat. He flips the pair of you again and gets you on top of him, pushing his cock deeper into you. You slowly start to grind against him, making him moan and hiss. His hands are kneading your breasts and pinching your nipples as he starts pushing himself into you. You start bouncing over him to match his rutting speed.

“Fuck, doll. You're being so good right now.”

You whimper as you get closer to the edge. “Bucky, im gonna-”

“Cum, doll. Ive got us.”

His speed increases and soon you both cum and he fills you up while you're gushing down on him. You pant as your body falls on him. He caresses your back as you both catch your breaths.

He slowly gets up, taking you with him, to the bathroom to clean up. The cleaning up in the shower turns into another session and later you both fall on the bed, naked and exhausted. You pull yourself a little further from Bucky and pull out a dainty gold band from the bedside table.

You hand the ring over to Bucky who chuckles and slips it on your finger. You sigh with content and snuggle into the blanket with Bucky’s chest against your back, all tucked in.

……………….

The New Year’s party by Tony Stark is always iconic and it was just as this year too. You and Bucky came to the party together. Bucky was immediately called over by Tony to meet some people while you made your way to the corner of the room. Steve saw you and stood beside you with beer in his hand.

You look at Steve with beer and giggle.

Steve looks at you and rolls his eyes. “I know. But I enjoy the feeling of the bottle in my hand. Makes me feel normal, y’know.”

You nod and pat his back. He relaxes. You point at his hand and he shakes his head. “Not today.” Steve instantly changes the topic. “Bucky told me about your plan today. I'm here for support, you know that, right?” You nod your head vigorously, making Steve laugh out loud.

Hearing Steve laugh, Bucky turns his head in the direction to see a smile on your face while Steve laughs. He relaxes a little and goes back to the conversation. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not get to you the entire night. Someone either dragged him away or you were occupied with conversation with the teammates, but mostly it was the first reason.

It was time for dinner and you started digging around the buffet table to find your favorites. Bucky subtly joined you and handed him the plate.

“I'm nervous, doll.” He whispers in your ears. You look up to him and his stale blue eyes are staring deep into yours. You look around to see if someone isn't looking and pull him in a very secluded corner. You peck his lips and hug him tightly. He releases the breath he didn't know he was holding and wraps his free arm around you.

“Thank you, doll, I needed it.”

You take the plate from him and walk back to the buffet table and gather more food before moving back to the corner of the room. Bucky looks at you as you go with a bounce in your step. He could tell you were happy with the decision and he smiled.

……………….

People were counting down and Bucky was dragged to the other side of the room. You stood in your corner and tried to find Bucky in the crowd. You could have pushed through but he was too surrounded. You shift from one foot to another. The heels were killing you and Bucky had promised that you'd leave immediately after the countdown was done.

Bucky dodged and stumbled against the crowd to reach you. He heard many women in the crowd saying they had a chance with him and he did not want to give it to them.

3

Bucky came across one woman who tried to grab his shirt.

2

Natasha pointed at some woman behind Bucky who would like a kiss but Bucky distracted her

1

Almost there

Happy New Year!

Your back was to the crowd. A hand slipped around your waist and pulled you around to face your blue-eyed man. “Happy New Year, doll.”

He kissed you deeply. He was pouring out all the adrenaline that had flown into him while reaching you. Your hand cupped his face and pulled him closer. His metal arm held the back of your head to angle it better while his flesh arm held you tightly against his body.

You heard the entire room gasp and then pin drop silence. You needed to breathe so you tapped his shoulder twice. He pulled his lips away from yours and rested his forehead against yours.

“I guess it's time, doll.”

He moves to your side and pulls you closer to him. But before he could get a word out, Sam jumped in.

“You and her? When did that happen?”

“Well, if you would be quiet, I would tell you.” Bucky pulls you to the couch and sits down, taking you on his lap. You try to slide down beside him but his hold won’t budge. “Well, this is a family matter and I assume the rest of you got the message.”

“Right, well, thank you all for joining the party but I guess it ends here today.” Tony starts shooing people away.

Steve comes and sits beside Bucky and you. He slaps Bucky on the back supportively and you smile a little before burying your face in Bucky’s neck out of embarrassment.

“Everyone is gone. Out with it, Tinman.” Sam jumps onto the adjacent sofa with Nat and the rest of the team in tow.

“We're married.” Bucky pulls out his hand from around your waist and grabs your left hand to show off the matching wedding bands.

“What the fuck!!!” Natasha jumps out of the seat and comes close to check the rings.

“Since when?” Tony asked.

“Three years now, right doll?” You nod.

“Three years! Right under our noses?”

“When did you get married? Where? How? What?”

Everyone was very confused with the revelation.

“We met during the fallout and well, i started to fall in love with her. She felt the same and we got married in a city hall in New York.” Bucky explained in short terms. You were still in his lap and nodded to everything he said, supporting his statement.

“But, why were we not invited? We were with you the whole time! How did we not know about this?” Sam almost screamed his head off.

“You werent there all the time. Remember the day Steve sent you all to stakeout? He helped me and the doll get to the city hall and we got married. Captain America as our witness.” Bucky chuckled at the last statement, earning a small whack from you on his chest. Steve just rolled his eyes.

“You knew!” Natasha pointed at Steve who shrugged. “It wasn't my story to tell and I just wanted to see my best friend happy. He was happy with her so I stopped them.”

The discussion went on for almost an hour. Your little stifled yawn caught Bucky’s attention and he got up with you in his arms.

“Alright kids, my wife and I are tired and I have plans for our third anniversary tomorrow.”

“Bye.” You wave at them and slump back in his arms.

“Wait! At Least tell us your anniversary date.”

“It's January 1st. It was dead winter and my wife showed me that I can be happy during the cold too.”

He lets the elevator door shut on everyone’s faces. Seeing a sleepy you in his arms was all he could ask for this New Year.

................................

this fic is open for requests

[softevie]

safe in your hands

pairing: hongjoong x female reader 

warnings: smut under the cut so mdni, established relationship, morning sex, safe sex, fingering (f receiving), mutual masturbation, overstim, small dick size (orrrr below average I guess?) (I’m not sure how to tag this one since I’ve never seen anyone here write something like this)

a/n: reader lowkey struggles with vaginismus and yeah it’s a total projection. this is for everyone who has trouble putting anything inside themselves lol <3 also. can’t get out of my mind that gray long sleeve shirt he wears to sleep, you all probs know what I’m talking about 

word count: 2.1k

The birds chirping outside is the first thing you register when you slowly drift out of a nice dream you were having and into reality. The second thing is how warm you are, face buried in your boyfriend’s chest, your legs tangled together with his. July sun is filtering through the curtains and warming your back, which is turned to the window. You stir a bit to get some movement in your stiff neck, then open your eyes, and see his soft face drowned in warm morning light. There he is. Peaceful. Perfect. Yours.

Your mind slowly catches up with reality, and you remember that it’s Saturday morning and neither of you have to be anywhere; there’s nowhere to rush. You allow yourself to bask in this moment. It’s rare in this hectic life to feel so peaceful, so you decide to appreciate the moment and commit it to your memory. You focus on the way your body slots perfectly against his. His arm lays over your torso; it relaxed through the night, but you remember his strong embrace from when you were both just falling asleep. His strong back under your palm, where you're gently running it over his soft gray sleep shirt.

He sighs softly and opens his eyes, slowly focusing on you. You witness his mind waking up and recognizing you. He smiles and whispers “Good morning”. You can’t help but smile back at him.

“Morning, honey. Did you sleep well?”

He hums and moves closer, putting his face in your neck and inhaling your scent. Your legs are still tangled together, your thigh between his legs, basically pressing into his crotch, and his thigh between yours. When he hugs you closer, you both sigh at the soft stimulation you  cause each other. You lower your hand to his waist and sneak it under his shirt. You can’t help yourself and grind slightly on his strong thigh. You run your hand over his skin, trying to gauge his reaction. Suddenly he moves his thigh, rubbing it against your core, making you gasp.

“You want me, love?” he mumbles into your neck, his warm breath making you shiver and feel goosebumps rise all over your skin.

“Mhmm…” you offer instead of a coherent reply. You can’t even put into words how much you want, need him.

You reach into his pajama bottoms and take him in your hand, your small fist easily covering two thirds of his length, although your thumb struggles to meet the tips of the other four fingers. Caressing him with your palm, you feel him harden under your soft touch. His hand sneaks under your t-shirt, ghosting over your waist before moving up and cupping your breast. His small but strong hands always feel so right on your body. You sigh contently and start pumping him slowly, not needing to move your hand a lot. The way he steadily grows firm in your hand makes your head spin with want. You want to whine, you want to scream with how much you need him close, even closer than now; it’ll never be close enough. He moves his leg and presses his thigh gently into your crotch, and your breath catches at the spark of pleasure.

The slow grind is nice, but really it’s everything about him that turns you on and makes your core clench. It’s the fact that you’re here with this man, and you get to have him like this. It’s the little gestures and caresses that express his feelings for you, his want for you; show that he desires you just as much as you do him.

He moves his hand lower, smoothing his fingers down your waist again. His knee lowers, making way for his hand to cover your crotch instead and rub you through your underwear, pressing his thumb into your clit. You let out a needy whine, to which he laughs softly against your neck. He knows perfectly well how to push your buttons. Alright, two can play this game. You decide to retaliate by playing with the head of his cock with your thumb, dipping it into the slit and rubbing it there. You revel in how much precome is oozing out of him, making your movements smoother. Just like you expected, you hear a low groan and feel soft breath on the skin of your neck.

He moves away suddenly, panting, cheeks pink. You whine again at the loss of his warmth and his hands on you, and try to pull him closer by his shirt, but he just shushes you and gives you a kiss to the forehead.

“Just one moment, love.”

He shortly turns to open the nightstand on his side of the bed and then turns back, dropping a small bottle of lube and a condom on the bedsheets. He helps you to take your underwear off, carefully sliding them down and off your legs, flinging them over his shoulder.

You bite your lip in anticipation as you watch him coat his fingers with clear liquid. He runs them through your folds, watching your face carefully when he starts to slowly press his pointer finger in. You’re fine taking it, but he still takes his time to pump it in and out, and make sure it meets no resistance. It’s only when he starts to press his middle finger in as well that you tense up a bit. He leans down and puts his mouth on your neck; it does little to distract you from the stretch, but his kisses still feel so nice. You swallow and cling to his shoulders, trying to ground yourself.

“It’s alright, angel, you’re doing so well for me.” His hot breath and tongue against your neck could just make you forget about every worry in the world.

He just keeps the two fingers inside of you and gently rubs your clit with his thumb, letting you get used to the intrusion. You try to steady your breathing and relax as much as possible; to focus on the feeling of his fingers inside you and his thumb bringing you sparks of pleasure. After a while, when the pressure is no longer as oppressive inside you, wiggle your hips a little to indicate you’re comfortable enough, and he scissors his fingers a bit just to make sure you’re ready for him. The fingers start to pump slowly in and out of you, the squelching sounds filling the bedroom. Hongjoong lifts his head to kiss your cheek and catch your gaze, searching for any signs of discomfort.

“How are you doing, baby?”

His touch, outside and inside, makes you shiver all over, and you barely have the presence of mind to reply to him.

“Good, I’m good. Just like this, please,” you breathe out. His fingers keep working you until you feel your thighs start to shake, and you grab his wrist hurriedly, trying to get the words out as fast as possible. “I’m ready, honey, please, I want you now.”

He removes his fingers, still leaving kisses on your face, and reaches for the condom. With heavy breaths, you watch as he takes his cock out of his pants and puts the condom on, before slicking it up with more lube. You look up and see him already staring back, a smirk forming on his lips. Without saying anything, he just looks at you while pumping his cock a few times, and God, if it isn’t the hottest sight in the world.

He makes you hike your leg up and over his waist, and now it’s a perfect position for him to line himself up with your entrance while you’re both on your sides. He takes himself in his hand and runs the head of his cock over your folds, rubbing it against your clit; not entering yet, just teasing. It’s such an intimate gesture, you even get a little flustered, despite the many filthy things you’ve done together.

He doesn’t push right in, just keeps the pressure light but insistent until your body opens up and is ready to take him. The blunt head of his cock pushes in easily enough. He lets you get used to it before slowly pushing further between your walls. You both sigh in satisfaction when he’s completely buried in you, your bodies sharing heat, your heartbeats and pulses synchronized.

He buries his face in your neck again, and you wonder if it’s his favorite place on the earth to be. You’re the one who starts moving first, grinding your hips against him and clenching around his hard cock inside you. The breathy moan he lets out is easily one of the best sounds you ever heard in your life. He sucks the skin on your neck, sure to leave a blooming mark, and digs his fingernails into your back, making you gasp. Slowly, he moves his hips back until only the tip of his cock is inside, then just as carefully slides back into your heat. When you both find a steady rhythm, he wraps his arm around you, bringing your bodies even closer if it were possible, and picks up the speed. Taught by experience you both keep the thrusts shallow lest he slips out of you.

The realization of how perfect he is for you almost makes you too emotional for the current situation. It’s just the right size to feel that pressure inside that makes arousal course through your body in waves which start in your lower belly and travel all throughout your abdomen, muscles clenching deliciously.

You still remember bracing yourself for rejection, when you decided to explain early on that it takes some extra effort for you to do this basic sex act, and the shy smile on his face when he told you that maybe you both will fit together just fine. The memory brings a gentle smile to your lips. You’re so grateful for him. And you know he can still get insecure, so you always make sure to remind him he’s perfect for you, whether inside you or in your hand, or when you take him in your mouth. With him, you feel… Safe. Just as he is safe with you.

He picks up the pace, his moans becoming whinier.

“Fuck, honey”, he pants in your ear, sounding helpless as if his hips are moving on their own accord. It’s amazing every time to see him lose control because of how good it feels to be inside you. He slows down and rolls on his back, and you end up lying on top of him. He circles his arms around your waist, plants his feet on the bed for leverage, and starts thrusting up in you. You can’t do much but pant in his neck and whine as he pushes in you again and again with abandon, like he might die if he stops fucking you.

“Baby,” he whines, “I’m so sorry, I…”

There’s no rhythm to his movements anymore, and you know his mind is completely lost in how good it feels — your inviting heat enveloping him on every thrust, soft muscles squeezing his cock so nicely.

You bring your hand to his hair to pet it gently.

“It’s okay, my sweet boy. Just take what you need.”

The lewd squelching and slapping sounds and his desperate moans are all that can be heard in your bedroom right now. With a final gasp, his hips still as his whole being is overcome with euphoria. Even through the barrier of the condom, you can feel him releasing warm cum into it, and honestly, it just turns you on even more.

Without catching his breath, he brings his right hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit in soft circles. He starts grinding up into you, while he hasn’t gone completely soft. Through the fog of approaching orgasm in your head, you barely hear him whining from overstimulation on his poor sensitive cock, but he’s still moving, completely focused on you. With your core muscles clenching involuntarily and your whole body feeling like there’s molten lava coursing through your veins, you know it won’t take long for your own release to arrive.

“Please, I’m so close,” you whine in his neck, nearly clawing at his shoulders. His thumb presses into your sensitive clit more insistently, but still keeping the movements slow. You can swear you feel pure electricity running through your legs as the orgasm finally shakes your body, and you hear Hongjoong let out a whiny gasp as his cock is trapped inside your heat.

When you regain control of your body, you move a bit higher, releasing his soft cock, but still resting your body on top of him, both of you catching your breath. He’s still hugging you close when he turns his face to peck your cheek.

“Breakfast?”

“Yes, please”, you say, smiling against his neck.