#i don't know if there's anyone i haven't followed back

[ggidolsmuts]

Good Girls in the Dark - Choi Yena

"Hello, I'm Choi Yena, nice to meet you!"

"Omo son why didn't you tell us your girlfriend is so pretty?! Come in come in!" Your mom quickly leads Yena into your home, who's already locking arms with her. "Finally you bring someone back for Chuseok!" she looks back at you and admonishes. You simply shake your head and follow them in.

"You look so young, I thought you were oppa's sister!"

"Oh stop it, you have such a sweet tongue!" 

Yena's a good girl.

At least, that was your initial impression when you met her for the first time—it was supposed to be a Yuehua flex, having Yena drop by to say hi, to congratulate everyone on the successful joint project between Yuehua and your company. Mindful and demure, she was considerate of everyone, smiling and greeting all of you like the energetic idol she is.

True to her energy, she insisted you all go to a club for the afterparty, but the group soon diffuses into the crowd—some people left almost immediately, others stayed for a few drinks, and yet more broke off into their cliques. You try to sneak out too, until Yena somehow gets a hold of you, pulling you into a dark corner of the club. She has a drink in hand, but by now it is empty save for a few drops of whatever she had.

"Why do you keep looking at me?" she demands to know.

"What? I haven't!"

"Don't lie, I saw you sneaking looks." You were, but you didn't think Yena would notice, that you would just blend in with your co-workers.

"How would you know?" you fire back.

"Because I've been looking at you too." It must be the alcohol in Yena talking, for she smashes her lips into yours, tongue immediately pushing into your mouth. She does have a sweet tongue. "Can I trust you?"

"You should have asked me that before you kissed me."

"Oops, oh well. Now answer the question."

"Yes."

"Good, I don't want to go home tonight," she breathes into your ear.

Yena's a good girl in the dark.

"So how did you two meet?" your dad asks during dinner.

"At work! I was at an event for our company, and he was there! He was very nice to me."

"That's all it took? My son is good!"

"Dad don't," you mutter, shaking your head and leaving the table carrying your dishes. At least Yena didn't say it started with a hookup, or your parents would have had an aneurysm. The one night stands became more frequent, and your apartment became a place for stress relief for Yena.

Over time the two of you ended up spending equal amounts of time talking and fucking, and both of you finally gathered the courage to give in to your feelings and agree to start dating—to be fair, neither of you were seeing anyone else anyways, so exclusivity wasn't a discussion that needed to be had. Ironically the dating aspect wasn't really a thing either—Yena was an idol, so any dates you two had were just at your place.

"What? Our son is so charming, he found a celebrity girlfriend! And she eats so much too, I thought you would be dieting or something, I was afraid I made too much!" you hear your mum say.

"No no, that's just a stereotype, I eat more than he does!"

"That's great, you eat so well!"

Yena's a good girl.

~~

"Fuck, you eat me so well," you moan as Yena slurps you, tongue running up the underside of your shaft. It's early in the morning, the sunlight just peeking through the curtains. You can barely make out the shape of Yena in your sleepy haze, but you can definitely identify her by her tongue and hands.

"Because your cum is so delicious!" she says as she strokes you, eager for her morning cum-ffee. "I can see some of it already!" She licks your tip, swiping up the dripping precum. Yena's hungry for more, and she goes deep on your cock, taking all of it in easily. The loud sloppy noises she makes are the lewdest alarm sounds you've ever heard, and your favorite by far.

"Oh fuck, Yena, I'm gonna cum!" There is no holding back your orgasm, and your hand finds itself in her hair, pushing her down like she was an alarm clock. You thrust up involuntarily, and Yena hums as you hit the roof of her mouth, feeling you surrender in the form of a thick morning load sliding down her throat. Yena's eyeing you as you come down from your peak, making sure you're fully drained before she let's you go with a pop.

"Thanks, I gotta go now."

"Wait, I need something for the morning too no?" You wiggle your eyebrows and Yena laughs.

"I suppose I can spare a few minutes," she sighs theatrically and slides up your body. You expect her to remove her pants and underwear, but she's already naked from the waist down.

"Tch, you were expecting it weren't you?"

"I knew you would repay the favor." She pushes herself onto your face.

Yena's a good girl in the dark.

~~

"Auntie, do you need help with the dishes?"

"Oh no no no you're the guest, you can't be helping with the dishes!"

"I don't mind, besides it makes the dishes go by faster!"

"You see son, why can't you be more like Yena?"

"I live by myself, I do the dishes back home already!"

"I don't care, come help us with the dishes or else!" your mom threatens.

"Fine."

"God it's like I have to beg you to do the dishes, at least Yena's so polite and well-mannered, offering to help!"

Yena's a good girl.

~~

"Please sir."

"What do you want me to do Yena?" you ask the naked idol bent over your lap.

"Spank me."

"What's the magic word?"

"Please spank me." You reward her with a hearty slap across her ass, watching it jiggle and turn red. Yena yelps before thanking you.

"Good." You rub her cheek to soothe her before slipping your hand between her legs—she's dripping. Carelessly you run a finger along her pussy, letting her wetness coat it before wiping it on her. Yena squirms, and you wrap an arm around her midriff, holding her flush against your body, trapping her. Yena takes a deep breath and relaxes, going limp briefly.

"T-Thank you." It made her feel taken care of—she can let her mind go blank, let the pleasure take over, leave everything to you. But you tease her, rubbing her slit as you stroke her head, petting her like you pet a cat, or a duck perhaps. All while she can feel your erection poking her from below. Yena's little gasps and moans get louder and more frequent, breathing heavily over your lap as you continue.

"Please put it in." You push two fingers in, and Yena clenches immediately around them. You push Yena forward on your lap, bending her over one thigh to give you better access to her pussy. Yena's almost folded in half over your leg, blood rushing to her head as she watches her own toes curl uncontrollably due to your fingering. You dig deep, bending and twisting your fingers, as if trying to find the last cookie crumb deep inside Yena's jar. You do find what you're looking for, and Yena's the cookie that crumbles.

"R-Right there!" Beneath you Yena's face is red, both from pleasure, and from the little droplets she sees appearing between her legs. "Wait oppa, I'm going to make a mess—"

"Oppa?"

"I mean, ah! Sir, sorry sir, wait, stop!" You dig a little harder, a little faster, and it becomes a stream of liquid pleasure, leaking down her leg and dripping off Yena's toes.

"Manners Yena."

"Puhlea—" Before she can get the second syllable fully out you press her sensitive clit with your thumb and Yena chokes out a desperate cry, drenching your hand in her slick as she cums hard. Yena claws at your leg, gripping it tightly while she splashes over you. You help Yena right herself, but her legs are weak, and she sits in a puddle of her own juices as she lays her head on your thigh, breathing shallow and labored. You lay a hand on her cheek, and she turns to kiss it, as if soothing herself on you. When she opens her eyes again she looks up at you, before looking to the tent you're pitching in your pants.

"I want you," she whispers, managing to push herself up and pull your shorts off. Her hands go to your boxers, but you stop her.

"Are you forgetting something?"

"Please." Yena says it like an afterthought, removing your boxers and getting in your lap—her slick covered legs are spreading it everywhere on your couch. She tries to sink herself on to you, but you shift your hips, making her miss. "Come on!"

"Say it like you mean it."

"Please, I need you in me." She grabs your cock, her hands wrapping around your length. "I need something thick in me, my pussy needs something to... grip!" She twists her hands, squeezing you tightly. You let her position you at her entrance, and your cock twitches a little as a few more drops of slick land on your shaft.

"Please give me your cock," Yena whispers before kissing you needily.

You slam her down on you.

"Oh fuck!"

Yena's a good girl in the dark.

~~

"Yena do you drink? Are you allowed to?"

"Oh yes of course we are allowed to, I'll have whatever oppa has."

"Okay I'll go get the beer."

"No dear, get the ginseng wine."

"Should I?" Your dad nods emphatically.

"We're all becoming one family here, we can break out the good stuff and celebrate!" You know exactly where this is going as your mum brings the wine.

"Dad no don't do that!" You grab Yena's hand in apology. "Sorry."

"No no, I'm sure Yena doesn't mind! All we're saying, your mum and I, is that we would approve of whatever you two want to do in the future. Get married, have kids, you know, whatever you want!"

"It's okay uncle, I understand, thank you for being so nice to me and making me feel so welcome! We haven't really talked about our future, but it's good to know we have your support!"

"Good, see, that's a sensible young woman! Cheers!"

Yena's a good girl.

The operative word there is "really", because you two have certainly talked about your future together.

In bed.

In the heat of the moment.

While you're deep in Yena.

~~

"How many kids should I put in you, how many do you want!" you grunt as you thrust down into her, feeling her clench around you in response. Yena's legs push uselessly against your arms, your elbows locking her knees down in a mating press.

"As many as you want, fuck! That's so deep!" Her arms have a stranglehold around your neck, keeping you close, her flexibility allowing you to kiss her even as you fuck her in the uncompromising position. Yena's tits jiggle as you pound into her, a lewd visual of just how hard you're thrusting.

"B-Breed me, breed me harder!" It was a kink that Yena let slip once, and since then you've indulged her, joining her in enjoying the thought, relishing the feel of fucking Yena raw each and every time.

"Fuck I'm going to cum, you better keep count!" you shout as you slam down into her with finality, letting loose multiple shots into her. Yena seems to go over the edge with you, clenching around your pulsing cock, lips mumbling incoherently. You collapse on top of her, burying yourself against her neck, kissing her lovingly and cuddling her. It is a little later before either of you are able to speak.

"Five, I counted five shots earlier," she murmurs into your ear, tickling you.

"That many?"

"Mmhmm, I must have drained a lot out of you, hm? Poor oppa." Yena jokes, pinching your cheek. But she pushes you on your back and gets on top of you. The sight of your load leaking out of her is enough to get you to half-mast, and her words get you the rest of the way there.

"Let me do the rest of the work. We have to contribute equally to get me knocked up." She slides her cream-filled warmth over you.

Yena's a good girl in the dark.

~~

"I'm done showering!" Yena announces to you as she joins you in the guest bedroom.

"Great, let's get some rest, it's been a long day." You pull the covers over the two of you and hold Yena close. "Thanks for coming here with me."

"Of course, your parents are so nice!"

"They got a little too excited about meeting you, sorry."

"No no it's okay, I like it, they're fans of me, because of you!"

"I guess." You kiss the top of her head, ready to sleep. Yena is not though, and she slips her hand under your t-shirt.

"Haven't I been a good girl today? Shouldn't you reward me?"

"Yena..." you start.

"I didn't tell them we started dating after multiple hookups together. I didn't tell them we do it raw all the time. I didn't—"

"You really want to have sex here, tonight?" Yena nods and throws a leg around you, and to your surprise she's already very wet.

"Just the thought, you know? Being part of your family, us being a family, starting a family. And I heard ginseng wine is good for you too, get the blood flowing." You know exactly why Yena's so wet now. "I-I even brought towels from the bathroom. I'm going to make such a mess." She says it like sex is a foregone conclusion.

"You're going to have be really quiet, I know how loud you get when you want me to breed you."

"That's what the other towel is for." She scrunches the towel up and bites down on it, looking at you pleadingly.

Yena's a good girl, but Yena's your good girl in the dark.

A/N: Just something quick and dirty, the whole "Good Girls in the Dark" song from her just gave me the idea lol. Right before her next comeback heh, maybe there's another "dirty" title there hopefully, or I'll just make it dirty as usual. Thanks for reading!

[echobx]

Birthday Schenanigans - JJ Maybank × fem!reader

summary: it's y/n's birthday and she gets distracted while playing a game with her friends, just for JJ to take care of her soon after

word count: 969

warnings: smut, edging, thigh riding, fingering

author's note: I wrote this around this time last year, and decided to give it a new home outside my wip folder. It's a little bumpy bc it's one of the first things I ever wrote, but I think it's still okay.

kinktober masterlist

Without thinking about what you are actually doing, you roll your hips back to lean forward and hand Kie the pen. JJ's leg presses against you, the friction of the jeans against your panties and the light pressure feels incredible. Your mind is clouded by the weed and the warm feeling that started building in your core. You crave a release. Any release. And this is just too perfect to not try it out. Over the next half hour or so, basically the whole duration of the stupid game, you grind on his leg. Very slowly and carefully so that no one but the two of you notices. Small motions that bring you just enough pleasure to keep going, but not enough to actually make you finish. Every once in a while, he tips his leg for a few seconds and stops again. You gasp the first time he does it, and your friends all look at you for a moment before continuing with the game. Keeping a straight face and not making the slightest sound is incredibly difficult, but you manage it anyway. 

If you weren't focusing so hard on not showing your lewd actions, you might have heard the knock on the door when your friends do. JJ’s hand moves from your back to your stomach, and he pulls you back to sit fully in his lap. You can feel his warm breath on your neck and his left hand intertwined with your own. Leaning his head against yours is making a shiver run down your spine. "You can stop fucking my leg now. Someone is here for you," he whispers into your ear, and you bite your lip, before recalling the last words he said. "Who?" you turn to look at him. There is a spark in his eyes that you haven't seen in him all night. A lustful glimmer, as if your little game messed him up more than yourself, if that is even possible. You feel the need to kiss him; his soft and demanding lips. To feel him inside you in the only socially acceptable way for the situation you are in. Anything would suffice. Even just a gentle brush of his hand against your cheek or the small circles he likes to draw on your skin. Just him for you, nothing else. You don't bother for who is at the door. It could be Santa Claus and you wouldn't give a fuck. All you can think of are the very dirty things you want to do to your boyfriend. 

"Get up, or I'm not going to let you do whatever you are thinking about," he whispers against your lips and gently pushes you off him. The sudden loss of his presence makes you more dizzy than the thoughts that still haunt your mind. You shake your head, trying to sort your thoughts before opening the door. "Pizza and beer is all the gift I can offer," John B says from behind a huge mountain of boxes. You have to laugh while guiding him inside, your mind suddenly freed from the lust that captivated it just moments prior. He puts the boxes down on the kitchen counter and hugs you, "happy birthday." "Thanks bro," you wink at him, taking a slice of pizza and going into your room to change, not wanting to sit in wet underwear all night. 

The door behind you closes, and you are pushed against the closet, hands above your head and JJ’s hips pressed against yours. He kisses you with so much passion and tenacity that you forget why you even went into your room. You know it wasn't to do this, but you can't for the life of you remember what.  "Don't ever do that again unless we're alone. I don't want anyone seeing you like that, not even them," he breathes against you, and you nod, biting your puffy lips. "Keep your arms up." A silent order that you are more than willing to follow. Not sure what exactly is to happen now, but with the impression that it will be worthwhile. He opens your jeans and pulls your panties down with them, letting you step out of both. "Fuck," his fingers grace over your swollen cunt. "You are way too wet for how little movement you got. What did you think of while doing it?" You gasp as he pushes his long fingers into you. "Tell me what you thought of," he demands again. "You. How you would punish me. How you punished me before," you have to bite your lip so you don't moan, not wanting your friends to hear what you are doing. "I could do it now. Not make you come, let you sit in anticipation for another hour before I let you wreck me," he whispers and kisses you again, not just to kiss you, but also to muffle the lustful moan that you can't hold back at that moment. "Promise to show me how that new toy works, and I'll let you finish." His quiet whispers are followed by another kiss and even more choked moans while he keeps fingering you. His thumb is playing with your clit while you try to stay contained. "Promise me,” JJ rasps in your ear. "I do. I promise. Please," you beg for your release, and he kisses you again while finally allowing you to let go of the tension that had nested in your stomach for the last few hours. JJ pulls away as soon as your legs are done shaking and picks up your slip, using it to wipe off most of what spilled out of you. "You need clean underwear," JJ smiles, proud of his work, and then he leaves you standing in your room, panting and flushed and completely exhilarated. 

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @m2m2m2 @mochimms @dorkyfangirl24 @itsme-again @maybankslover @th3eternalersi @jjmaybankssurfergf

[beatrixstonehill2]

Veronica was enjoying her time at a pool in a luxurious hotel when a woman named Gina approached her, eyeing her in an accusatory way. "What do you think you're doing?" Gina asked.

"What do you mean?" Veronica asked in a soft, feminine voice.

"Disgusting, another dumb little fakegirl here to ogle us real women and fantasize about doing god knows what to us."

"Huh!? No, I think you made a mistake, I--"

Gina pulled off Veronica's clothes, starting with her top, revealing her large breasts for everyone to see, then pulled off her bottoms, sizing the disrobed girl up. "Well, well, well, look what we have here." Gina said, shaking her head at the sight of Veronica's small cock held in place with body tape.

"There's no rules against trans girls staying here! I.... wasn't ogling anyone or being a perv! I just haven't gotten around to removing my cock...."

"Uh-huh, heard it a million times, princess. You're so disgusting. I saw you when you arrived yesterday. Since you don't pass whatsoever it was obvious you were a boy. Since then I've caught you filming pregnant girls in bikinis on your phone, filming upskirts, staring at countless girls' asses and breasts, you accidentally bumped into and touched the breasts of about a dozen girls staying here, and I even caught you rubbing your cock through your bikini as you watched that group of pregnant college girls celebrating their victory in some gymnastics competition. I also followed you in the bathroom and heard you jerking off."

"Ummmm..... it's.... not true? I didn't mean to..... those girls were really hot and showing off their moves, their breasts kept falling out and oh my god their asses were so juicy and fat--oh!" Veronica covered her mouth, her cock throbbed against the tape holding it in place.

"You poor perverted boy. Let mommy take you in and take care of you. Show you some discipline. Wouldn't you like that?"

"Ummm......would I have to stop being a girl?"

"Idiot. You aren't a girl now. Just a confused, perverted boy.... Come on, let me help break you free of your confusion, OK?"

Veronica nodded, taking Gina's hand as she walked her naked through the hotel, back to her room....

"It's been a year since I met my mistress, Gina, and detransitioned for her, finally giving up my perverted fantasy of being a girl. Gina started by making me get rid of my "breasts", which were just oversized moobs that grew unnaturally big because my parents tricked me into taking synthetic hormones because I liked dressing as a girl. Now they're growing back because my mistress funnel feeds me so much.... if they look too much like a girl's breasts Mistress Gina says she'll make me get another reduction.

I used to goon in private to so many pretty girls online, and I was something of a voyeur.... I also took a new guy home almost every night, I'd go to all kinds of nice hotels and sleep with as many men as possible, while watching all the pretty rich girls..... But now Gina controls when I'm allowed to cum. Only after I do good and meet my monthly weight gain milestones and don't complain when she pegs me with her.... intimidatingly big strap ons. I'm just her boy-toy hog who only exists to fatten for her amusement, until she gets bored of me, which she told me she will. I never get to fuck her of course, only watch her get fucked or peg other girls, as well as a bunch of other former t-girls she forced to detransition.

I have to stuff my face and eat as I watch her have an active sex life, if I slow down she stops what she's doing to scold me or paddle me if I'm really disobedient. She makes eye contact with me the whole time she pegs or gets fucked, never with her partner. She just watches me eat and encourages me to keep stuffing my dumb, hog mouth and get nice and fat so I can cum like a good boy. It's kind of funny but she's way more perverted than I ever was as as trans girl.... even if I was pretty out of control. Now I have no choice but to get as fat as possible for my mistress until she finally gets bored with me and drops me off at my parents' house.... That's going to be a fun conversation. Telling them I detransed after living as a girl since the second grade, and got so fat I can't walk.... Hope they don't mind taking care of me and keep me as well fed as Mistress Gina.... Fuck, I've got to stop thinking about it or I might accidentally cum. I've been getting punished enough lately.... Keeping Mistress Gina satisfied gets harder and harder the fatter I get, I can barely keep up with my weight gain goals, but having Mistress Gina jerk me off at the end of every month makes it all worth it. Her eyes staring into mine as she calls me a gross, disgusting boy who never passed as a girl, and a fat useless hog who's never gonna make a girl cum, who's gonna be too fat to fuck or masturbate.... I cum soooo fast, then she makes me lick the cum off her hand, afterwards she slaps me and tells me to do better next month, that I'm gaining pathetically slow.... I have to do better for my mistress. I already can't even remember ever being a fakegirl with big bouncy tits......"

[ween-kitchens]

meet me halfway

3511 words

mumbo stares at the retreating figure of grian like his life depends on it, head spinning with far, far too many thoughts to even begin to comprehend what on earth just happened. he doesn't have nearly enough brainpower for this- if mumbo was an engine, he'd be rattling and shooting out sparks at an alarming rate. honestly, he’s quite surprised he hasn't exploded yet. goodness. okay- god, no, there's no way that can actually have just happened. no way- that was just something mumbo hallucinated. grian can’t have just- there's no possible way. mumbo's heart is pounding against his ribs, his breathing is practically hyperventilation, but it was- it can’t have been real, because if it was real then grian just-

honestly I just really wanted to write an 'oh' moment and I haven't written grumbo in a while, so here we are

tumblr formatting is being weird so if you see any mistakes, no you don't <3

mumbo stares at the retreating figure of grian like his life depends on it, head spinning with far, far too many thoughts to even begin to comprehend what on earth just happened. he doesn't have nearly enough brainpower for this- if mumbo was an engine, he'd be rattling and shooting out sparks at an alarming rate. honestly, he’s quite surprised he hasn't exploded yet.

goodness. okay- god, no, there's no way that can actually have just happened. no way- that was just something mumbo hallucinated. grian can’t have just- there's no possible way. mumbo's heart is pounding against his ribs, his breathing is practically hyperventilation, but it was- it can’t have been real, because if it was real then grian just-

grian just kissed him. and mumbo kissed back, and- and he liked it, and now he wants more, and he might just have a name for that nagging warmth that has followed grian's laughs and his smiles and when his hand would brush mumbo's, and that's just- it's bizarre. but it's so incredible, and it's so awful, and there's no possible way he can deny it anymore- and oh, god there's no possible way he can deny it anymore- 

because mumbo might just be in love with grian. that- grian just kissed him, and now he knows- he knows the way it feels to have grian's hand against his waist, and he knows how grian's lips feel against his own, and he can never stop knowing- and there's no way mumbo can ever stop thinking about it, and oh god is he cursed to forever sit useless and lovestruck on this beach and watch as grian walks away whilst knowing all of that?

and grian doesn't know. grian doesn't know that mumbo has spent nights upon nights thinking of his face and wondering what it means, and he doesn’t know that mumbo replays the moment of every time he made him laugh in his mind on a loop, and he doesn’t know that mumbo is staring at the blurry outline of him and wishing desperately that sand was easier to run on so he could grab his hand and tell him it all. never in his life has anyone fit so perfectly by mumbo's side, and grian doesn’t even know-

okay. he should- he should probably take a second. wow- okay. gosh.

almost absentmindedly, mumbo rubs a thumb across his bottom lip, half imagining what it would be like if it were grian's thumb. oh- and now he’s flustered again. you know- he should really have taken tango's advice when he got it: don’t hang out with pretty men, you’ll fall for them way too quickly. and mumbo thought he was just being hyperbolic- what a fool he was! god- no wonder jimmy and tango are such idiots- they've been dealing with this the whole time!

and- oh goodness, grian just kissed him! he just- it's like a romance novel, and now mumbo is losing his mind in a completely different way, because- well, grian kissed him! he did the thing where- he pulled mumbo in by the collar of his shirt, and he kissed him, and- oh gosh, he’s going bright red again. this is so embarrassing.

mumbo pushes himself off the ground (and that's even more embarrassing- he fell to the floor when his crush kissed him. gosh.), fully prepared to be the worst possible cliche and run after grian, when the man in question looks over his shoulder. and something in mumbo's brain combusts when he realises that grian is coming back.

y’know what- he was wrong; this is the most cliche he’s ever going to get. grian is running towards him, and mumbo is running too, and he can just imagine the stupid slow-mo cinematic shot that the two of them are creating right now, and he doesn’t care, because all that matters is that he reaches grian. because he’s in love! mumbo is in love with grian, and- gosh, how crazy is that?

grian is barely a few metres away, and all mumbo can think about is that kiss. so when mumbo glances briefly (so briefly! barely even a second of glance!) at grian's lips, his already fried brain finally explodes, and all of a sudden mumbo is face-down in the sand. grian is laughing at him, and that's only making it worse, because now he’s both embarrassed and enormously endeared, because- wow, he really does love grian's laugh.

when mumbo looks up, brushing the sand out of his moustache, grian is knelt in front of him with that life-ruiningly fond grin on his face, and mumbo is going to explode again. "i’m- I shouldn’t have ran. i'm sorry- I didn’t even-"

"shut up for one second." mumbo says, out of breath, pushing himself up so he’s face to face with grian. 

their eyes meet, and it's as if the whole world goes silent as mumbo raises a hand to cup his face. grian is staring at him with that indecipherable expression, but when mumbo begins to pull away, he presses his hand against mumbo's, keeping it in place. it's so- it's all utterly bizarre, and in the best way possible, because mumbo is tracing grian's cheekbones with his thumbs, and grian is staring at him with nothing short of adoration, and mumbo might just be losing his whole mind because-

"I love you." mumbo breathes, watching the way grian's eyes widen with such interest. "I can't- I never even considered something like this could ever happen- I was so confused!" he laughs. "I had no idea- and then you kissed me and I- I still can't believe that, honestly. you! you’re so beautiful- and you kissed me!"

grian is laughing too, and he’s blushing- and oh goodness, mumbo made him blush, how incredible is that? "i've- you know, i’ve been lamenting to tango a little bit-" mumbo gasps in mock outrage. "i- no actually, i’m allowed, you’re an idiot. anyway, we agreed- you’re just as bad as jimmy."

"what? I can't be that bad!" mumbo exclaims, but in all honesty, he can’t help but agree a little. it- he may or may not have gotten distracted staring at grian's lips midway through his sentence; he’s a complete idiot—especially if grian is with him. 

"I- mumbo." grian says, surprisingly breathless, and mumbo looks up to see him flushed pink. oh. oh- was that- is that because of him? "you can't just- oh my god."

"you- I blame you for this!" mumbo feels his own face growing hot, stomach fluttering. "I wouldn’t have known if you hadn't kissed me!"

grian lifts a hand to mumbo's cheek, and mumbo's engine of a brain is shooting sparks once again. "how could i not?" he says, almost to himself as he rubs his thumb against mumbo's lips, who might actually explode this time. 

"grian," mumbo's voice is barely a whisper, and it occurs to him that they must have started leaning in at some point, because their faces are so much closer than they were a moment ago. 

apparently distracted by mumbo's lips (which- wow. that's- that is happening. okay), grian gives a little hum of answer.

"can-" mumbo puts a hand on grian's, and he looks up. there's a look that flashes across grian's face when their eyes meet, and it's almost smug—as if he knows just how much fire mumbo's brain is on right now. "can you kiss me?"

grian's lips twitch into a half smile, and he tilts his head, leaning in until their noses barely brush. "gladly." his breath ghosts mumbo's face, but before he has time to even process this, the gap between them is closed.

somehow, it's even better the second time. grian's hand is cupping his cheek, the other gravitating towards his waist, and it's all mumbo can do not to explode as he leans into grian. it's honestly unbelievable- mumbo wonders, as grian's hand rubs gently against his waist, if this is all just an incredible dream. this theory is quickly wiped from his mind, along with any other hint of rational thought, as grian begins to run his hand through mumbo's hair. y’know- if this is a dream, mumbo would rather not wake up.

after what feels like a lifetime—and yet far, far too soon—the two of them are forced to pull away for air. mumbo is grinning like an idiot, and grian is flushed pink but smiling just as much, and they just kissed! again!

"so- um. what- are we-" mumbo seems to have forgotten the english language mid-kiss. which- okay, that's embarrassing. he thought that was just something people made up for romances. "would you consider us to be- um. what- what would you-"

grian presses a kiss against mumbo's lips, very effectively shutting him up long enough to say, "I would like to be your partner. if- if you also would like that." 

for a moment, it's all mumbo can do to nod enthusiastically, and grian (being the incredibly rude man he is) cackles at him. "I- I would definitely like that." mumbo manages, smiling shyly.

"good." grian says, and mumbo can just tell he’s trying to sound calmer than he is. it's cute. mumbo wants to poke it. "because- I mean, it's not like you had much of a choice. you’re mine now- it's not really optional."

mumbo tilts grian's chin upward and kisses his lips, grinning as grian blinks in flustered surprise. "i’m not mad about that."

never has mumbo ever seen someone look so pleased and so indignant at the same time before. "you- you did that on purpose!"

mumbo laughs, and grian can't keep up the silly pout he was attempting. "of course I did! you kissed me- out of nowhere, and left me alone!"

"oh I see," grian says, clearly trying to stay annoyed, but he can’t stop giggling to himself. "this is revenge."

mumbo kisses grian's nose, watching with glee as grian turns even pinker. "of course not." he says unconvincingly.

"oh my god- mumbo!" grian buries his face in his hands, and mumbo cackles. 

"okay- i'll stop! i’m stopping, i’m stopping." mumbo grins, and- okay, maybe he just wants to see grian's face again. what, are you gonna sue him? you- please don't, actually. "i’m sorry- I apologise."

grian moves his hands away from his face, giving mumbo a suspicious look. wow- he really does know him, doesn’t he? "I don’t trust that voice." he jabs at mumbo's chest, grinning a little.

embarrassingly, mumbo feels himself turn pink. "I- well, is- would it be weird if I said I just wanted to look at you?" 

within an instant, grian turns more red than mumbo has ever seen him—apparently speechless, because all he does is stare as mumbo starts to laugh at his expression.

"it's just-" mumbo raises a hand to stroke grian's cheek, watching with delight as grian melts into the touch. "you’re just so beautiful." he murmurs, beginning to trace the outline of his jaw with the tips of his fingers. mumbo reaches his chin, and tilts it upward ever so slightly. "I can't believe I never.." he trails off, distracted by how soft grian's lips feel against his fingers.

grian looks like he could very well melt into a puddle; voice slightly raspy when he says, "mumbo, you- you’re killing me here."

mumbo grins, stomach fluttering at the fact that he flustered grian. "I did say it was revenge." he leans in ever so slightly, glancing very intentionally at grian's lips before pulling his gaze away. honestly, it's a marvel to see grian so shy- usually that's mumbo. "I just.." his smugness softens into something far more affectionate than he would ever admit again. "I love you."

"if- if you don't kiss me in the next five seconds," grian starts, entirely out of breath and positively beetroot-coloured. "i’m actually going to die, and it will weigh on your conscious forever."

mumbo tilts grian's face upwards ever so slightly, and- okay, maybe he’s taking a little longer to do this than he otherwise would. it's- in his defence, grian's reactions are just too incredible to let slip by; mumbo can’t just miss them. "well, since you asked so nicely." he teases, pausing just long enough to watch grian's expression shift to something simultaneously flustered and exasperated before he leans in. 

grian kisses him with the air of someone who has seconds left to live, and mumbo can’t help but melt into him as grian presses closer—nails digging bluntly into the fabric of his jeans. it's all mumbo can do to kiss back, brain turning to mush at the insane reality that grian is kissing him- and that he’s kissing him because he loves him. it's all- there's no possible way that mumbo is coming out of this with his sanity still intact.

all too soon, grian pulls back, and mumbo makes an embarrassing noise of complaint. their faces are so close, mumbo can feel grian's breath on his cheeks. he might just explode. "just- just to clarify," grian pants, and- wow. okay, that- wow. "is there anything you- you don't want me to do?"

"not- not in the slightest." mumbo breathes, and his voice sounds almost desperate. grian, apparently, seems to find this fact intoxicating rather than embarrassing. "maybe- i’d prefer you not to stop."

at that, grian presses a kiss to the corner of mumbo's mouth, smirking mischievously. "i’d never dream of it, mumbo." he whispers. oh, gosh.

within moments, they are kissing again, and mumbo sinks into it without a second thought—quite frankly, if he could make this last for all eternity, he would. grian must be noticing the way mumbo relishes his softness, because he has begun to cup his face, rubbing a thumb across mumbo's cheek. mumbo, of course, is finding it very difficult to think about anything other than that gentle touch through the haze of quiet breathing and comforting embraces, but- well, he can’t just let grian do all the work, can he? that- that would be rude.

grian makes a little noise of surprise as mumbo slips his hand into his hair, scratching gently at the nape of his neck, but within seconds, mumbo feels grian begin to melt against him. he has to admit- it's pretty cute—especially when grian pulls barely back to mumble, "is- is this revenge?"

mumbo can’t help but giggle at how red grian is, coupled with how pleased he is with- everything that's happening right now. "I- it wasn't my intention, but- y’know, it could be."

grian practically pouts, and mumbo is laughing even more now- which he doesn’t think was the intention behind that. "you’re so mean to me, mumbo."

"I- well, you- you were being so nice to me," mumbo says, feeling his face begin to warm as he watches grian realise what he means with delight. "I had to return the favour."

grian is grinning now, pout entirely forgotten in lieu of making fun of mumbo. "oh, mumbo-"

mumbo claps a hand over grian's mouth, enormously embarrassed by it all. grian continues to grin, but the fondness in his eyes betrays his true feelings. "that- we don't need to discuss it, actually. we can just- we can let the moment pass."

"i’m making a note of this in my mind." grian says. well- mumbo is pretty sure that's what he said, after all, his voice is muffled by mumbo's hand. "but- okay-" the look in his eye makes mumbo expect to be licked, and he moves his hand very quickly away. "hey!"

"you were gonna lick me." mumbo says, grinning at grian's offence. "weren't you?"

grian makes a sulky face, which is- far too pretty for his own good. "I was gonna kiss you." mumbo laughs, and grian's sulk drops almost immediately. which- frankly, the mischievous grin that replaces it should not be nearly as endearing as it is. "I wanted to watch your reaction—they're always cute." 

mumbo barely has time to give a flustered huff of a laugh before grian is following up with, "but I was going to say, I have been paying attention." he says, and mumbo finds himself reeling.

"you- I hadn't even- oh my goodness." mumbo scrambles desperately to locate wherever his brain has ended up, because it's very obvious that it has completely abandoned him by now. "you- you actually thought about- gosh." he buries his face in his hands, and grian cackles.

"well, I just- you always liked it when I held your hand." grian is saying, and his grin is so abundantly obvious in his voice alone- he’s so audibly pleased with himself for getting it right. "and tango- I mean. I won't pretend we didn't talk-"

mumbo looks up so fast, he may have almost given himself whiplash. "what did tango tell you?" he says, pointedly ignoring how funny grian seems to be finding this whole conversation.

grian is still laughing when he finally answers, "well, he- he may have hinted a couple things. I didn’t know you guys used to date." he takes mumbo's hand and raises it to his lips. "he mentioned on the off-chance it'd be relevant.." grian presses a kiss against mumbo's knuckles, and oh he’s just so smugabout it that mumbo could melt.

"I- I can't believe this." mumbo barely manages. he’s fairly certain his face is cosplaying a beetroot by now. "you two- oh my goodness. why- how would you even- when did that become a- a topic of discussion?" embarrassingly, it seems as if his voice has abandoned him, leaving mumbo stuck with squeaks.

grian blushes, and mumbo feels a little better about his own disastrous response. "I- okay, it- it's not like I talked about you all the time, but I- you came up.. a lot." 

mouth agape, it's all mumbo can do but stare for a long moment. grian, of course, finds this hilarious. "how would- I never even- are you kidding?"

"tango said you’d probably react like that." grian is grinning, and mumbo is going to dissolve. in a good way. 

"I- y’know, maybe I should start telling jimmy this kind of stuff about tango." mumbo is still embarrassingly breathless, and grian laughs. "see now he likes it."

grian leans forward and presses a soft kiss to mumbo's lips, eyes ridiculously fond. "I think he'd probably appreciate you helping him out." he grins. "how do you think I got the courage to kiss you?"

mumbo can’t help softening slightly. "well. maybe i'll forgive him." he jabs grian in the forehead, grinning as he squawks in protest. "once I forgive you for leaving me alone after you kissed me." he exclaims.

grian cackles. "I- look, okay, I was freaked out-"

"you were freaked out?!" mumbo half-yells, unable to keep from grinning along. "grian- you just- you kissed me, and then left! and then I had to realise that I was in love with you- and you left, so I couldn't even tell you-"

"I thought you were gonna hate me!" grian defends. "I couldn’t- but then I turned around and you were running, and immediately fell over-"

mumbo grins. "I just- I was thinking too much about you kissing me, and then I- I saw your lips, so-"

frankly, mumbo has never seen grian look so delighted in his life. "you fell over because you wanted to kiss me?!"

"I- well- kinda." mumbo says, heat rising in his face from both embarrassment and pleasure. "has that- is that just me?"

grian snorts, face reddening. "I- okay, I might- a week ago, I was. thinking about you a bit whilst me and jimmy were looking for crabs, and I wasn't- I forgot to pay attention, and I sorta. fell into the sea." 

mumbo laughs harder than he thinks he’s laughed in weeks, not even trying to regain his composure as grian cackles along. "oh- oh my gosh- grian!" he squawks, trying to catch his breath again. "what- what I wouldn't pay to watch that." he grins. "do I really have that much of an effect?"

"well," grian glances away, looking suddenly  embarrassed. "it's- you had that shirt, and you’d ditched your jacket 'cause it was hot, and- with the sleeves rolled up- it- uh. yeah." grian hides his face with his hand. "I got- I got distracted."

mumbo's face hurts from smiling so much, and he honestly doesn't care. "I- wow. I will be- i'll be making a note of that." he says, flattered.

grian looks back, grinning. "you’re gonna use this against me, aren't you?"

"who would I be if I didn't?" mumbo smiles, fonder than he meant to be.

grian leans forward and kisses mumbo, cupping his face as he does so. when he pulls back, mumbo finds himself chasing his lips—much to grian's amusement. grian tilts his head, smiling. "I love you."

mumbo turns his head to kiss grian's hand, stomach fluttering. "I love you too."

[wrotten]

i just unfollowed sooo many blogs most of which were inactive and now i only follow 55 people lol

[chrisbangs]

hello... (and bye ig 👋)

[medicinemane]

I don't know... horrible things happen all around the world and it's not a competition

Atrocities are committed against multiple groups in multiple parts of the world at the exact same moment, and none of them erase each other. They all matter, all the people in this world who are being brutalized matter. There shouldn't be any line you draw where one group doesn't actually matter as much as another

You're welcome to prioritize your energy towards helping one group or another, but what's not ok is invalidating or dismissing people who are actively being harmed

Same goes for trying to figure out which social group has things worst (and lets be honest, always using a US lens)

Like... maybe the important thing is to prop each other up and help everyone get on their own feet rather than trying to... pick fights about if physical disabilities or mental illness are less respected (I'm trying to pick a more absurd example but sadly I've seen exactly that argument happen before). Maybe it doesn't really matter and what matters is helping who we can when we can

I'm tired of it, I'm just fucking tired of it. Support people, champion them when the world is just brutalizing them, but you don't need to throw a single other person under the bus to do that

Which seems to be an absolutely impossible lesson for people to learn

[jabeur]

im still kinda new to tennisblr and kind of intimidated by you but I think you're cool as fuck. your username slaps and everything you post is always on point. anyway, have a good night!

aw anon you're so kind! i understand being intimidated at first, it's the same for me usually, but just letting you know if you ever want to shoot me an ask, a dm, reply to my posts, tag me, anything, i really am totally chill with it. i am so not cool, like have you seen me have 1.5 breakdowns a day gjfvj that's nice of you to say tho but yeah, i'm chiller than i seem i guess and i'd like you to feel welcome here and not intimidated <3 have a good day or night!

[thethingything]

also we finally got our medical records from all the shit last April and it turns out the doctor that insisted we weren't feverish actually lied about our temperature when he wrote stuff down.

our temperature was 38C. we saw on the thermometer they used that it was 38C. he's noted it down as 36C. he also said we had no systemic symptoms besides nausea and reduced appetite meanwhile everything written by other medical professionals on the same day lists a whole bunch of symptoms.

at least we have confirmation of that which is the main thing we wanted our records for besides getting to see the actual test results and there's stuff on some of the tests that sounds kind of concerning but I don't know enough to know if it's actually concerning and nobody ever mentioned it to us

[sysig]

Your Weekly TV Guide

On Monday you can expect:

2:30 PM: Original - Concept art

And Tuesday:

2:30 PM: The Stanley Parable

Wednesday:

2:30 PM: Mob Psycho 100

Thursday:

2:30 PM: MP100

Friday:

2:30 PM: Star Control II - Helix

Saturday:

2:30 PM: Dragon Quest IX

Sunday:

2:30 PM: SCII - Helix

Thanks for tuning in! (Patreon)

[bitterseadrop-a]

y'all if you wanna unfollow me ?? or i follow first and you don't want to interact ?? for literally whatever reason ?? that's totally fine.

only thing i ask is that you hardblock me, especially if it's a follow first from my side. i understand if you don't want to interact, you're entitled to curate your dash to your own needs. but i don't wanna stand here like an idiot or seem obnoxious by following again after i've already been soft-blocked, because 9/10 i won't remember if i've followed you before.

and if you have hardblocked me and change your mind one day, wanting to interact ?? i'm cool with that as well. i won't ask questions. heck even if you shouldn't be feeling any interactions at the moment but want to interact at a later point, you're free to shoot me a dm or just follow back 5 years down the line.

[neon-angels-system]

I pretend that I am hoping for love and friendship and money and all of that but that's not true. actually I am holding out for having my own little house or apartment which has an oven and a stovetop. and I will make muffins. and I will decorate the walls. and I will not worry about bothering others, because it will be my space. and I will play video games while sitting in the living room. and I will sew in the kitchen while I wait for my water to boil. and I will dye my hair and lounge around with my shirt off while I water plants because there will be nobody around to judge. and it will be nice.

[zoologica42]

Temperate Lake Dashboard Simulator

🐦‍⬛2xcrested_cormorant Follow Going to try and eat this weird fish

♻️🐦‍⬛2xcrested_cormorant Follow wilmdlife hopital

🐸rana-bufo Follow No one can ever truly understand what BULL4rog's music means to me 😭 this song in particular argrgrgrgrgrg the way he puffs out his vocal sack asdfghjk

BULL4rog: listen here on spotify ♻️🐸rana-bufo Follow I think I huave chytrid

🐟ilikeeatingminnowsFollow I just migrated here from finstagram please be nice

🐠powerbottomfeeder Follow

I have HAD IT with this lake, it’s the third day in a row we’ve had nitrates above 8 ppm and uug the algae, my allergies I can’t do this

♻️🐟carpy-diem Follow

Lol we regularly get nitrates up to 20 ppm in my lake ♻️🦞crawdaddy Follow uhhh you shouldn't be bragging about that, it's really unsafe ♻️🐟carpy-diem Follow suck it you little oligotrophic bitch

🐢snappturt Follow Dear Tumblr, am I the Basshole for the way I catch minnows? I was chatting with some of the guys I bask with and they said the way I catch minnows is problematic; What I do is I sit on the bottom of the lake, I hide myself in the mud and I open my mouth. My tongue looks a lot like a little worm so I wiggle it around- and because of that, minnows swim over and check it out. Once they get close enough, then I bite down and eat them. Some of my rockmates have told me that this is manipulative and toxic behavior- but they also eat minnows...I don't know guys...

🦆tree hole-nester-acorn-eater Follow

is it just me, or is this super homoerotic???

🐟bigpikexxl Follow liveblogging diving down to the bottom

♻️🐟bigpikexxl Follow dark

♻️🐟bigpikexxl Follow big log

♻️🐟bigpikexxl Follow rock

♻️🐟bigpikexxl Follow kinda cold

♻️🐟bigpikexxl Follow oh hi @deepwatersculpin!!!

♻️🐠deepwatersculpin Follow oh hey @bigpikexxl!!!

never thought i'd seen one of my mutuals irl!!! I didn't even know we lived in the same lake!!!

🐠Shadlad Follow I'm not sorry, and I'm not afraid to say it, if you're an introduced species, go dry yourself out. You're not welcome to eat up all of our resources and live in my ancestral longs and rock crags. These things are for us to relate to and not for you to squander.

♻️🦞crevice-steve Follow

Can't believe this type of fishcourse is still popular on this site, introduced species didn't choose to be introduced and have as much of a right to live as anyone else. Bigotry against introduced species is still bigotry and that's a hill I will dry on. ♻️🐠Shadlad Follow Go ahead, dry yourself out then ;) ♻️🪷nootnootnewt Follow Hey man, I hate invasive species as much as anyone else but please stop telling people to beach themselves for political reasons- yeah that includes inavsives too ♻️🦐typical_scud Follow Did you legit just use the word Invas*ve to describe introduced species? ♻️🦢flatfootswimmer Follow anyone in this thread eat pondweed?

♻️🐟largemouthbASS Follow A colab with my mutual @2xcrested_cormorant after they got released from the wildlife hospital. They haven't been on much since the Fish and Wildlife Service released them in the wrong lake and it took them a while to get back to their colony. We hope this guide will help you avoid accidentally eating/engaging with bait!

[bi-writes]

Could we get some Simon POV on mail order bride reader? Perhaps his thoughts on how timid she is?? Pls and thanks!

mail-order bride

it is something that he knows as soon as you step over the threshold for the very first time. he's observant to a fault; he can't be surprised by anything because he pays too much attention to the small details, to the things no one gives a second glance.

the way your head whips around when a loud noise carries across the room. the way you jump when you weren't expecting him behind you, crowding your space. the soft way you talk, the way you constantly try to make yourself disappear when there are others in your vicinity.

it speaks volumes, this kind of behavior. this intense need to appease others, to not disturb them, tiptoeing to gauge reaction to make sure you haven't done anything wrong, that you haven't upset anyone.

simon knows this kind of timidness all too well. he sees the veil that you wear, the kind that flutters when a hand is raised; he recognizes it, and you are a reflection of a woman that he used to know.

a woman he used to look up to. one that he loved, and one that loved him back.

the more time he spends with you, the more unlike himself he feels, the more aware he is of the other half of himself that is so far away from him, a stranger. never in simon's life has he felt that same burning anger. he's never felt the need to make those around him afraid. he's never relished in being the bigger man, the stronger one--and when the voices get loud enough, he still remembers being the boy who hid under his bed until he was too big to fit underneath it.

so he makes his steps louder. he shuffles his feet on the carpet. he makes them heavier, soft thuds that can be heard in the hardwood of the kitchen.

he makes noise. in whatever room he's in, he makes it known. the clatter of his toothbrush into its holder. the metal scratch of hangers as he gets a jacket. the clatter of a mug in the sink. the thunk of his boots by the door.

you stop flinching. you stop looking over your shoulder. the sounds of his boots coming off, it brings you into the living room to greet him. when you hear his toothbrush in the bathroom, you shuffle inside so you can stand beside him and do the same. when you hear him in the kitchen, you always pad into the room, giving him those big, soft eyes and asking him for the millionth time if he needs help (no, go fuckin' sit down, too pretty to be workin').

there is a woman in simon's life who used to do the same. who used to be too scared of the world to ever live in it. who never got the chance to unlearn all of the ugly that the wrong man had taught her.

simon grabs the canvas bags in the closet, tossing them over his shoulder as he makes his way to the door.

"we're goin' t'be late," simon calls out. "won't 'ave the bread y'like 'f we don't leave now."

"coming! coming!"

you hurry into the living room, shrugging on your cardigan as you go for your purse hanging by the front door. you slip into your shoes, following simon as he walks out the door.

when simon makes his way down the steps, he expects to have to tell you to stop, to let him walk down the steps first so he can give you his hand; but when he turns, you're waiting there at the top of the steps, fiddling with your purse. he holds out his hand, and you take it on instinct, without even looking, letting him guide you until you've made it to the pavement and can walk to the car.

and when you make it to the passenger side, you're standing at an angle, putting your earrings on as you wait for simon to open your door.

as you wait.

after simon pulls the seatbelt around you and clicks it closed, he lingers, staring at you as you try and fix your hair in the rearview mirror. you pause, looking down at him, giggling.

"what is it, simon? i-is there something on my face?"

he sighs deeply, shaking his head. he lifts a hand, cupping your cheek, swiping a thumb under your eye before stepping back to close your door.

"no," simon mutters. "look bloody perfect."

there's no past with you. only present.

[thinkinonsense]

I KNEW YOU IN ANOTHER LIFEᰔ

dp&w!logan howlett x past wife!reader

cw: mostly angst, some fluff, sorta mean logan, cussing.

wc: 800+

a/n: this is inspired by a one-shot I read a while back but I cannot remember who wrote it. If anyone knows, please please please let me know in the comments so I can give them credit <3 update!!! this is it!!

｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡

The last person you thought you would find here in the void is Logan. There has never been a Wolverine in here. You almost didn't believe it when you found out; needing to see him for yourself. And here he was. Right in front of you, the Logan you grieved all those years ago. The one who stole your heart.

Your Logan.

"And who the fuck are you?" He barked, pushing you away from him.

Those words broke your heart the second they left his lips.

Wade smacks Logan, informing him of your past together. Logan looked like he didn't believe Wade at first. You were way too beautiful for any version of him, Logan thought. What would someone like you want with a man like him?

Tears well up in your eyes as you leave, not wanting it to sting anymore. Laura follows you, glaring at the man who looked like her father. Logan didn't seem to care about the new information, instead reaching for another one of Gambit's bottles.

"I'm sorry, mom," Laura whispers, wrapping her arms around you.

"It's okay, sweetie. I'm not sure what I expected to happen." You sniffle. "He just looks so much like him."

"I know."

Suddenly, Laura stood up and stomped out the door to confront the man who upset her mother. She found Logan sitting outside alone by the fire.

"Look kid, I'm not the man you and your mother think I am." Logan sighs, not even bothering to turn around to check if it's Laura.

"You made her cry," Laura hissed, ignoring his previous comment. Logan looked up at the young girl almost apologetically before shaking his head. "Her Logan would have never made her cry."

Logan felt a sharpness in his stomach at the news. Deep down, he wondered if you two were together at some point. He doubted it though because you looked out of his league. If a past version of him managed to marry you then maybe he did some good during his time.

"If you two haven't noticed, I'm the worst Logan apparently."

"You don't have to be."

ᰔ

It's late when you finally stumble out of bed, not able to sleep. Hours of tossing and turning, trying to get Logan out of your mind. This felt like a cruel joke on your poor heart. You know it's unfair to have him pretend to be your Logan but you desperately wanted it to be him.

All of your memories together haunt your mind like a graveyard. Sweet Sundays spent wrapped in sheets. How he kissed your face every morning, had you wear his dog tags, and ride on the back of his motorcycle. You would give anything to get just one of those moments back.

"What are you doin' awake?"

The voice behind you caused you to jump slightly. A hand coming to rest on your back. You turn around, face-to-face with Logan.

"Can't sleep." You shrugged, opening the freezer to pull out a container of strawberry ice cream.

"That shit won't help you sleep." He grunts, sitting at the table. You ignore his grumpiness and continue scooping the ice cream into a bowl.

"Can we talk?" Logan didn't look you in the eyes as he spoke. Too ashamed of his actions earlier.

"I suppose so." You shrugged, pulling the spoon from between your lips.

"Were we really married?"

You answer by pulling the chain around your neck for him to see. A small diamond ring dangled next to the dog tags he gave you. The moment he saw it, he felt like the biggest asshole who ever lived.

"How many years?" The words stung in his throat.

"Five."

"What was our life like?"

"Perfect." You smile softly down at your bowl. "At least it was to me."

"You did a good job with raising her." He muttered, referring to Laura.

"You would have to."

He's silent for a second, trying to wrap his mind around the idea of being a husband and a father. He wished he knew what it was like to be cared for as much as you cared for your Logan.

"You know, you have the same look in your eyes," Your voice was so quiet, stepping closer to him until you were in front of him.

Logan could see the desperation on your face as you stared at his lips. It would be wrong for him to toy with your widowed heart, but he wanted to be the man you needed. The man you deserved.

"I'm not him, sweetheart," He said, attempting to stop you before you hurt yourself. "And I don't want you to get hurt-"

"Please," You beg, eyes filling up with tears. "I don't care who you are. I just don't want it to hurt anymore."

You were slowly killing him. How could he say no to you? Even if he was the worst Logan, he has a heart. Which is why he lets you close the gap between the two of you. His hands are tangled in your hair while one of yours rests on his jaw before climbing into his lap.

For the first time in years, your heart began beating again. You and Logan could play pretend for now. Neither of you cared what would happen tomorrow, right now was all that mattered.

[yazmarina]

walk me through it

for the love circuit series

—you're used to being flirted with in front of the camera. but something about franco is really doing you in.

franco colapinto (f1) x fem!reporter reader

warnings/notes: smut, unprotected sex (no condom, yes birth control), guided masturbation, lewd photography, lots of flirting, franco is shameless (naturally), some Spanish sentences and phrases

a/n: will resume hit play for a bit after this one! enjoy franco girlies mwa

Your job was simple enough. Well, for today, at least.

Stand in the media pen, gather statements, and piece together a couple of stories later that evening for publishing first thing tomorrow morning. All in a day's work, like all the other days before.

You've grown immune to the charms of rich, adrenaline-seeking men. Didn't take you too long, the illusion breaking as soon as any one of them opened their mouths. Some you tolerate more than others, but some you'd rather steer clear of completely.

This isn't to say that you've brushed all of them off. You might have agreed to a date here and there but nothing ever stuck, the nature of your jobs a bit too similar and all too different at the same time. You've given up on the prospect that you'll somehow end up with one of the many Formula 1 drivers you've interviewed and spoken to. And you've spoken to a lot. You've had this gig since you were shipped off fresh from uni and one too many 'What happened there?'s and 'Tell me about qualifying's can put a damper on the romantic side of things.

But someone new's in town. Well, er, new in the paddock. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't even a little bit excited.

He's charming, that much you can already tell. He walks into the media pen like he's done it thousands of times before and you have to actively suppress a smile as he walks over. Confidence is always a plus. For the interview, of course.

"Hola, Franco. Antes que nada, enhorabuena," you greet warmly, extending your arm over the barrier to place the microphone nearer to him. Hi, Franco. First of all, congratulations.

Franc's eyebrows shoot up, a wolfish grin settling on his face. "Oh. I thought this was an English interview?"

You smile back. "It is, but I know my way around Spanish, as well."

"Ah," Franco nods. "Gracias, _______."

"You know my name?" You ask, momentarily forgetting that you're being taped and recorded. You clear your throat, ignoring the quiet snicker from your cameraman.

"Yeah, I've seen you around and watched some of your other interviews," Franco confirms, a hand settling on his hip as he leans against the barrier, closer to you.

You can smell his perfume from where you stand.

"Thank you, I've heard and seen a lot about you as well," you respond, trying to return to your original train of thought.

"Which is why I want to ask you how it feels on your first day as a Formula 1 driver," you quickly follow. "Have you done anything special to prepare for this weekend? Other than the obvious, of course."

Another easy smile spreads across Franco's lips. "I've definitely added to my training and done some new things to prepare. I haven't done a full F1 weekend before so everything will be new."

"We definitely don't have reporters like you in the lower Formulas," he adds.

You feel a violent blush rip up through your neck all the way to your cheeks. As if the Monza heat wasn't enough.

"Well, I'm glad you could meet me here," you manage to get out.

The thing is, Franco isn't even the most attractive driver you've met. He's definitely up there, but not the most.

That's a discussion you have with yourself semi-weekly: ranking the drivers in terms of attractiveness, factoring in personalities and general attitudes towards the people around them, specifically the media.

Look, people love to shit on the media and press, calling journalism all sorts of derogatory words, but you're just here to do your job, like anyone else. And it gets pretty fucking hard when your boss is ringing your phone every five minutes demanding four stories by tomorrow and drivers are sassing you out as if you asked them if they've murdered their whole family.

So, naturally, the way they treat you determines a big chunk of how you think your day is going to pan out.

And right now, Franco seems to be lifting your spirits just fine.

"What are your goals for this weekend? Are points on the horizon for you at your first F1 race?" You continue, trying not to stare at the way Franco starts to rub at the back of his neck, bashful all of a sudden.

"We'll try," Franco begins. He plants both his hands on the barrier and leans even closer. You have to physically take a step back.

You gulp. Franco smiles.

"Anything is possible this weekend."

-

"You broke the internet last night."

You scoff, sending your cameraman a vicious side-eye. It's crowded in the paddock today, everyone wanting to get a glimpse of the new rookie, it seems. Such is the eagerness for this young driver that even that 30-second clip of your interview with him blew right up in your face. Your inboxes at capacity, your own voice speaking back to you with every other swipe on your TikTok.

It's not all bad, though. A tweet with one of your Instagram photos attached to it captioned 'TE ENTIENDO MUCHO FRANCO ES MUY LINDA PERIODISTA' did weasel out a chuckle from you.

Your cameraman shrugs, gesturing with a jerk of his head in front of you.

"There he is. I'm sure he knows all about it."

You look over to where he's pointing and lo and behold, Franco is right there, chatting with a few Williams team members, his race suit hanging undone around his waist. He turns to you even before you can fully register that it's him you're looking at.

But your training kicks in even faster. A megawatt smile appears on your lips and you wave enthusiastically at Franco.

"Hi."

"_______," Franco says, face lighting up at the sight of you. Your name seems to fall even more effortlessly off his lips.

You reach over and pull him into a half-hug with one arm, but both his arms wind around you and you have no choice but to squeeze back.

"You saw?" Franco asks, a gleam in his eye as he pulls away. His hand remains casually on the small of your back.

"Saw what?" You know what it is he's asking but you'd like to hear it from him.

"We went viral, no?" Franco says with a laugh, reaching further around you and squeezing your waist. You lean into his touch, heart jumping as his fingers graze just underneath your cropped top.

"That's all because of you," you reason, pointing an accusatory finger at Franco. "I bet you say that to all the other reporters."

The Williams team members standing nearby burst out laughing and even your cameraman affords a snicker. A deep blush spreads across Franco's face as he rubs your side reassuringly.

"No, no, I don't. Just you," Franco admits with another lighthearted laugh.

"Sure," you say with exaggerated skepticism. You pull away from his touch, catching his hand before he slips it fully off of you.

"I'll talk to you later," you say. And it's fully intentional, the words you choose to say. I'll talk to you later. Not 'I'll catch you later' or 'I'll see you later'.

I will talk to you later.

Franco understands, giving your hand a squeeze.

-

Later that day, you pray that no one catches you grinning behind your hand as Franco takes the chequered flag at qualifying.

P11.

Almost there.

-

"Hi. Come in."

Franco beams at you from across the threshold, stepping into your room with slow, measured steps.

"Great qualifying," you compliment, eyes traveling down Franco's body, noting the way his team kit hugs his frame just right, his hands shoved into his pockets, exposing just his arms, veins and all.

Your eyes snap back up to his face when you hear the door shut in place.

"Q2 on your debut. Not bad," you go on, taking a step back. Franco takes one toward you.

"You're just repeating what you said at the media pen earlier," Franco points out. He reaches out and gently circles an arm around your waist.

Always straight to the point.

Like this morning.

You tried not to make it so obvious when you ran into Franco earlier, but all you could think about was The Message.

You were doing your cursory social media checks a few minutes after you had woken up, still snug in your bed and unwilling to get up just yet. A message in your Instagram inbox caught your attention, sitting at the very top of your 'verified followers' tab.

Franco Colapinto: hola, hermosa 😉

It took a minute for your motor functions to return, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you pored over what to reply. You settled on a nonchalant greeting, asking if Franco needed anything.

You realized rather belatedly that this was looking a little familiar. You wished he wouldn't say the dreaded answer, the more-than-predictable response that every man liked to use.

Franco Colapinto: you, maybe?

You groaned into your pillow, not because you were repulsed by his answer, but because you liked it. If you were easy, then so was he.

You: i finish work at 9 pm tonight...? 👀

It's 9 PM now. Franco's in the room and your hand is running up his chest.

Easy.

"It's such an honor," Franco teases, backing you up further into the room. His hands feel heavy on your waist and your heart hammers against your chest.

"I get to work with people like you now," Franco continues, stopping right in front of the bed.

The kiss comes as a shock more so because of how good Franco kisses. One of his hands is now cradling the back of your head, keeping you in place while he licks into your mouth, groaning with every pucker of your lips.

You pull away for barely a second to get both of your tops off before you dive back in, seemingly too desperate and too starved for each other's mouths. Franco's hands are everywhere; they run down your arms, paw at your waist, tugging at the belt loops of your jeans.

You giggle as he pulls you even closer, your bare chests pressed against each other. Franco pulls back and peers down at you, reaching behind to unclasp your bra. You let it fall, already guiding one of his hands to your tits.

"Couldn't stop staring at them?" You ask, your voice rising with an innocent lilt.

Franco kneads at the mound beneath his hand, eliciting a moan from you. He grins.

"I wanted you to notice," Franco admits simply, kissing you again.

"Perv," you mumble against his lips. Franco laughs, already undoing his trousers.

You wiggle your own way out of your jeans, letting Franco get the shortest of glimpses at your baby pink underwear before you discard them off to the side.

"Mierda, you're so sexy," Franco compliments as you crawl backward onto the bed, laying back and letting your hair splay out beneath you.

Franco pounces on you like a man starved, bare atop your own naked body, his arms caging you in.

"Big moves from somebody so new," you whisper, carding your fingers through Franco's soft locks.

"I like to make a statement," Franco says with a shrug. He glances up momentarily, something piquing his interest off to the side.

"Is that your camera?"

You crane your neck to see where he's looking and sure enough, your personal DSLR is right there on the bedside drawer. You look back at Franco, an eyebrow raised.

"You wanna use it?" You ask, not expecting him to actually say yes. But a mischievous grin settles on Franco's face and you feel your heart skip several beats.

"Knock yourself out," you say.

Franco reaches for the camera and fiddles with it for a few seconds. His eyes scan over your body and you suddenly feel the urge to hide away with how hard he's looking.

"May I?" Franco asks, brandishing the camera. Your mouth falls open as you realize what he's asking.

"You can keep them for yourself. For your eyes only," Franco hurriedly adds, planting his knees firmly on either side of you.

You stare up at him, a million thoughts running through your mind.

"Just...touch yourself."

You gasp, stunned at his proposal. Franco watches through the LCD monitor, glancing up at you through his lashes. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth, and as if on instinct, your hand inches down slowly between your legs.

"You're in front of cameras all the time," Franco reminds with a smirk. "This should be easy for you."

You suppress a whimper at his words, your fingertips swiping through your slick folds. You're already soaked and you start to wonder if it started even before Franco got here.

The shutter clicks and the lens whirs, sharp against the soft breaths you're letting out. Franco is concentrated, snapping photo after photo as you rub yourself closer to release. But it's not enough. You need more.

"Franco...," you implore, peering up with bright, begging eyes.

"Slowly, mi amor," Franco coos. "Just where you like it. Right there."

Click.

"Harder now, but still slow. Yes? Feels good?"

You whine, eyes fluttering shut as your pleasure picks up again. Several clicks. You're panting now, the tendrils of release wrapping themselves around you.

"Faster, yes, like that," Franco eggs on. Your fingers speed up against your sensitive clit and a litany of Franco's name spills from your lips. Before you know it, he's putting the camera away. You reach for him, gripping the back of his neck as he smashes his lips into yours.

Franco bites down on your lip and you cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a tide. You arch against Franco, feeling his own stiffness heavy on your thigh.

You blink, Franco's face coming into focus, barely an inch from yours. He watches you closely, pupils blown wide and plump lips even redder. You hook your legs around his waist, letting him know that you're not done yet.

Franco is quick to pick up, smiling as lines himself up with you. The groan that escapes him is nothing short of delicious as he pushes himself in. You gasp along, the stretch a welcome sensation.

Franco wastes no time and pounds right into you, catching you by surprise. You let your head fall back against the mattress, a long, drawn-out whine erupting from deep within your chest as Franco licks a stripe up your neck.

Your whole body quakes with how hard he's thrusting into you but you're clearly enjoying it if your wanton moans are anything to go by. Franco meets your eyes and you pull him down, wanting nothing more than to drown in those lips of his.

It's feral and it's unrestrained, spurred on by the knowledge that this is more than unprofessional in your line of work. Not illegal by any means, but risky enough to warrant warnings from your coworkers. Never sleep with a driver unless you're committed.

Oh, well.

Franco groans loudly in your ear, movements losing their rhythm as he speeds up. You're clinging to him as if he'd disappear if you let go, your own belly tightening once more with that familiar feeling.

Franco. Franco. Franco.

He kisses you just as he finishes. Passionate, eager, heady. You feel him inside you, a different kind of elation filling you as you release all over him.

Franco pulls away to allow yourselves to breathe. He pulls out, rolling over to your side. You hug your folded knees to your chest, too lazy to get up and find something to deal with the mess.

"No hagas eso. Eso es demasiado doméstico," Franco jokes, moving closer and planting a kiss to your shoulder. Don't do that. That's too domestic.

"Relájate, estoy usando anticonceptiva," you reassure with a lighthearted roll of your eyes. Relax, I'm on birth control.

Franco hums, laying an arm over you. He pulls you close and you face him, reaching up to brush away some of his unruly hair.

He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Happy that you're a Formula 1 driver?" You ask, grinning.

Franco chuckles. "Very."