Request For Old Man! Logan Please: He Calls The Reader His Good Girl For The First Time In Bed & He Sees

request for old man! Logan please: he calls the reader his good girl for the first time in bed & he sees the instant affect it has on her

Good girl🎀

Logan’s voice is a gravelly whisper as he praises you, “You’re such a good girl for me.” The moment the words leave his lips, warmth floods your cheeks, striking a deep chord inside you. Growing up, you were often told you were a “fuck up,” and hearing him say this feels like a revelation.

You freeze for a moment, grappling with the unexpected swell of pride and vulnerability. It’s as if all those years of negativity are being washed away, yet doubt lingers in the back of your mind. Your heart races, but the words feel heavy, and you struggle to accept the affection he’s offering.

Logan’s eyes narrow slightly, picking up on the shift in your expression. “What is it?” he asks, his brow furrowing in concern. “You know you’re mine, right? My good girl.”

You swallow hard, the words tangled in your throat. You feel the familiar sting of inadequacy creeping back in, a voice in your head insisting you don’t deserve this. “I—” you stammer, the truth nearly slipping out, but it falters.

“Hey,” he urges gently, his thumb brushing along your jawline, “I need to hear you say it.”

You shake your head slightly, guilt gnawing at you. “I can’t,” you whisper, the weight of your past suffocating. “I’m just… I’m a fuck up.”

“Listen to me,” he says firmly, tilting your chin up so you can meet his gaze. “You’re not a fuck up. You’re strong, you’re brave, and you’ve fought through so much. You’re a damn good girl.”

His words linger in the air, but doubt still holds you captive. “How can you say that?” you reply, voice trembling. “I keep messing things up.”

“Everyone makes mistakes,” he reassures you, his voice steady. “It’s what we do after that counts. You keep pushing through, and that takes courage.”

You look into his eyes, searching for that truth, but the struggle within you feels insurmountable. “I’m trying,” you whisper, feeling a tear threaten to fall. “But it’s hard.”

“Just say it for me, sweetheart,” he presses, voice softening. “You’re my good girl. You need to believe it.”

With a shaky breath, you realize how much you want to embrace those words. “I… I’m your good girl,” you finally manage, the admission barely above a whisper.

“Louder,” he encourages, a warm smile breaking through his serious demeanor. “I want to hear you say it, all right?”

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of your past lift slightly. “I’m your good girl,” you say, a little louder this time, the words starting to feel more comfortable as they leave your lips.

Logan’s expression brightens, satisfaction washing over him as he pulls you into a firm embrace. “Damn right you are,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your ear. “And you always will be.”

“Do you really mean that?” you ask, searching his face for reassurance.

“Of course, I do,” he replies, his gaze intense and unwavering. “You’re everything to me. I’d never say it if I didn’t mean it. You deserve to feel that way, even when you doubt yourself.”

You lean into him, your heart swelling with a mix of relief and affection. “Thank you,” you whisper, your voice soft but sincere.

“Always,” he promises, brushing a stray hair from your face. “Now, how about we make sure you never forget it?”

“Okay,” you reply, a smile breaking through your earlier uncertainty. “I’ll try.”

“That’s my girl,” he says, wrapping his arms around you tighter. “Just remember, you’re not a fuck up—you’re my good girl.”

Requests are Open!

Kinktober Day10-Double Penetration

Summary: Wade and Logan fuck you.

Over the past month, Logan and Wade had been slowly preparing you, easing you toward something the three of you had been looking forward to for weeks.

They took turns each night, building up to the big moment, using different toys to help you adjust. Logan was usually the one to start, his hands steady and sure as he worked each toy inside you, helping you stretch a little more each time. He'd study your face carefully, his voice soft as he'd ask, "How's that, darlin'? You doin' okay?" Wade, though, was all teasing grins and playful comments, his fingers just a bit bolder.

"You think you're ready for us yet, sweetheart?" he'd smirk, always coaxing a reaction that made him laugh or grin when you'd roll your eyes at his impatience.

With each night, they got more confident, testing your limits. Logan would stretch you with a larger toy, moving slowly so you could feel every inch, while Wade kept his hands moving over your sensitive spots, making you gasp and arch beneath their touch.

Together, they found a rhythm-Logan's calm, grounding presence paired with Wade's lively energy. Your body responded eagerly, adjusting to the new sensations, and with every touch, the anticipation built, leading up to the night the three of you had been waiting for.

Tonight, the air was thick with anticipation. Logan positioned himself behind you, his solid warmth a comfort as he pulled you close, pressing gentle kisses along your neck. "You ready for this, sweetheart?" he murmured against your ear, his voice low and reassuring.

"More than ready," you breathed, glancing up to find Wade standing in front of you with that familiar, mischievous glint in his eyes. "You better be," he smirked, leaning down to catch your mouth in a kiss, his hand cupping your cheek as he whispered,

"This is what you've been waiting for, huh?"

Before you could answer, Logan was pressing into you from behind, his thick length stretching you slowly, letting you feel every inch as he settled in. "God, you feel perfect," he murmured, his hands steadying you as he pressed a reassuring kiss to your shoulder. "Let me know if it's too much, darlin." You nodded, grounding yourself with his presence, but just as you were catching your breath, Wade was positioning himself at your front, his playful grin softening as he looked into your eyes.

"Here we go," he whispered, easing himself in. The stretch was intense, nearly overwhelming, but after their careful build-up over the weeks, your body was ready.

"Look at you, handling us both," Wade teased, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "Knew you could take it."

Logan's fingers threaded through yours, squeezing gently. "You're doin' so damn well," he murmured, his voice a low rumble as he kissed your shoulder again. They began moving together, Logan's pace slow and deep, grounding you, while Wade matched his rhythm but added his usual playful edge, keeping you guessing with each movement. Their combined presence was intoxicating, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you.

When your climax finally built, you felt yourself spiraling, their touch pushing you over the edge as you gasped, "Oh-Logan, Wade-I'm so close.." Logan's hold tightened, his voice soft as he whispered, "Go on, darlin. We've got you." Wade's grin softened as he leaned closer, his lips brushing against yours.

"That's right, sweetheart. Let go for us."

As you reached your peak, shuddering between them, they held you tight, their hands grounding you as you rode out the intense pleasure. Just as you came down, you felt them both reaching their limits, Logan's grip tightening around your waist as he groaned, "God, you're incredible..." Wade followed with a satisfied laugh, his own release filling you as he whispered, "Told you this would be worth the wait." They stayed close, wrapped around you as you all caught your breath, leaving you feeling utterly full, completely content, and held in the warmth of their embrace.

Requests are Open!

“Night Terrors and Novelties”

Summary: Logan's nightmares make him fear he's killed Wade, but Wade always wakes up and reassures him he's staying.

Logan’s eyes snapped open in the dead of night, the familiar darkness of the room closing in around him like a suffocating shroud. His heart was pounding, breath coming in ragged gasps as the remnants of his nightmare faded, leaving a deep, gnawing dread in their wake. His hands were cold, and he realized, with a sinking feeling, that his claws were already out, stained with blood.

No, no, no… not again.

His gaze fell to Wade beside him, his body still, the sheets soaked red. Logan’s breath caught in his throat. For a second, he was frozen—he couldn’t move, couldn’t think. He had done this. Again.

He wrenched his claws out of Wade’s chest, his hands trembling as he backed away, the metallic tang of blood filling his nose. “Wade… Wade, wake up,” he rasped, his voice barely a whisper, cracking under the weight of his panic. His heart hammered in his chest like a war drum, each beat louder than the last. “Please… don’t be dead.”

But Wade didn’t move.

The seconds stretched on, each one a lifetime of guilt, fear, and self-loathing. Logan felt his stomach twist painfully, his chest tightening until he could barely breathe. Memories of past mistakes, past losses, crashed down on him like a wave—Jean’s lifeless face, Mariko’s broken body, the countless others who had paid the price for getting too close. And now Wade…

“No, please… God, no…” Logan whispered, his voice broken, choked with emotion. He sank to his knees beside the bed, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress so tightly his knuckles turned white. He hadn’t felt this kind of terror in years, this raw, primal fear that he was a danger to everyone he cared about, that he was destined to hurt them, to destroy them.

He reached out, hesitating, afraid to touch Wade, to confirm what he already feared. But then Wade gasped suddenly, a ragged breath filling his lungs, and his eyes fluttered open. Logan’s heart lurched, relief flooding through him so violently it nearly brought him to tears.

Wade blinked up at him, disoriented, before a familiar, pained grin spread across his face. “Oh, great,” he wheezed, voice strained but still laced with that damn humor. “Didn’t know I was auditioning for a remake of Psycho tonight. You got me good, Logan.”

Logan’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. He felt the tears sting his eyes, and he turned his head away, ashamed. “Wade… I thought… I thought I killed you.”

Wade chuckled softly, though it came out more as a wheeze. “Nah, buddy. You’ll have to try a little harder than that.” But when he saw the look on Logan’s face—the fear, the guilt—his smile faltered. Wade’s expression softened, a rare seriousness settling over him.

He reached out, his hand brushing Logan’s, blood still seeping from the wound that was already starting to close. “Logan,” he said quietly, “I’m okay. I can’t die, remember?”

But Logan’s shoulders sagged, his eyes glassy. “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered, voice thick with emotion. “I still did this. I still—hurt you.”

Wade sat up slowly, wincing a little but never breaking his gaze from Logan’s. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t mean to. I know that.”

Logan shook his head, his jaw clenched, his breath coming out in harsh, uneven bursts. “Doesn’t change anything,” he said, his voice low, haunted. “Every damn time… every time I close my eyes… I see them. The ones I couldn’t save. The ones I—” He broke off, swallowing hard. “And now… you.”

Wade’s face softened even more, his usually flippant demeanor replaced with an uncharacteristic tenderness. He scooted closer, ignoring the pain still radiating from his chest. “Logan… listen to me. I’m here, okay? I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

But Logan’s eyes were distant, his hands still trembling. “I can’t… I can’t lose another person, Wade. I can’t wake up one day and find out that I… that I killed you for real.”

Wade’s grip tightened on Logan’s arm, pulling him closer, his voice firmer. “You’re not gonna lose me. Not like this. I’m tougher than I look. And besides,” he added, his tone softening again, “I’d come back just to haunt your ass if you did.”

Logan let out a hollow, bitter laugh, but the fear didn’t leave his eyes. Wade’s thumb brushed gently over Logan’s knuckles, trying to steady the shaking in his hands.

The next few nights, it happened again. And again. Logan would wake up in a cold sweat, claws out, eyes wide with terror. Wade would stir moments later, a groan escaping his lips as he sat up, his chest or side or shoulder freshly wounded but already healing.

Each time, Wade would pull Logan close, repeating, “I’m here, I’m okay,” until Logan’s breathing slowed, until the tension in his muscles eased just a fraction. But Logan’s eyes always held that haunted look, the one that said he was reliving every nightmare, every failure, every moment where he’d been too late to save someone.

One night, after another episode, Logan sat at the edge of the bed, his face buried in his hands. Wade watched him, his heart aching in a way that wasn’t caused by his healing wounds.

“Logan,” Wade whispered, leaning forward, “you’re still here too. You’re still fighting. And I know it’s hard… but you’re not alone in this. You’ve got me.”

Logan’s shoulders shook, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. “But what if I lose you?” he choked out. “What if one day… I’m not fast enough?”

Wade slid beside him, wrapping his arms around Logan’s shoulders, pulling him close. “You won’t,” he murmured. “And even if you did, I’d come back. I always do. For you.”

Logan didn’t respond, his eyes shut tight against the tears threatening to fall. Wade held him tighter, whispering soft reassurances, staying with him until the sun began to rise, and the nightmares were just shadows fading in the light.

But even in the daylight, Wade could see the sadness in Logan’s eyes, the way he carried his grief like an open wound. And all Wade could do was hold him, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he could keep the darkness at bay for one more night.

And so, they sat there in the quiet of the morning, Wade’s hand never leaving Logan’s, his voice a steady, soothing murmur in the silence, promising over and over again that he wasn’t going anywhere, no matter how many times Logan’s fears tried to say otherwise.

I can’t figure out how to use the read more option sorry😅

Okay so.

What if Logan had a nightmare episode where he wakes up all claws out and stabbing Wade in the chest.

What if he forgot that Wade can’t die from that?

What if Wade didn’t wake up straight away and Logan panicked thinking he’d killed another partner?

But when Wade wakes up, very much not dead, more just huffy that one of his stupid novelty shirts got ripped than anything, and Logan just has to hold him for a little.

Wade kinda realises after this happens more than once of why Logan panics, and so after a few recurring incidents, Wade comforts him, reminds Logan that he’s okay, that he’s still there no matter how many times he gets skewered.

I dunno I think the angsty fluffy potential of that is good

Kinktober Day4-Somnophila

Summary:Logan fucks you in you’re sleep

Logan woke with a sharp, insistent need throbbing through his body. His mind was still half in a dream, but his senses were fully alert, drawn to the warmth beside him. His partner was fast asleep, curled up comfortably, their breathing slow and steady in the stillness of the night.

His eyes traced over them, lingering on the way the sheets clung to their body.

The agreement they'd made echoed in his mind-they had a deal that if one of them woke up like this, hungry and aching, they could touch each other, even in sleep.

Logan's hand found its way under the blanket, gliding over their skin, warm and soft beneath his rough fingers. He moved slowly at first, savoring the way their body responded in small, sleepy twitches. He pressed his lips against their neck, inhaling the scent of them, that mix of comfort and temptation.

His fingers slipped lower, teasing, his movements gentle at first, testing their sensitivity. They let out a quiet sigh, unconsciously shifting closer to him. He felt their body relax further, even as his touch grew bolder, his desire building like a fire he couldn't put out.

As he explored them, Logan's need deepened. His grip tightened slightly, his restraint starting to slip. He could feel his pulse in his ears, his chest tightening with the mounting tension in his body. The way their body reacted to him-even in sleep-pushed him further. His breathing quickened as he positioned himself closer, grinding softly against them.

A low growl escaped him as his hand moved faster, more insistent now. They shifted beneath his touch, a soft moan escaping their lips, still half-asleep, but responsive. Logan knew they wouldn't wake yet, so he let go of the last bit of his control.

His hips began to move in time with his hand, his thrusts growing harder, more urgent. His partner's body rocked slightly with each motion, still asleep but pressed perfectly against him. The soft sounds they made only fueled him more. He was past the point of no return, his body demanding more, harder, faster.

His breathing grew ragged as he chased his release, every movement more intense than the last. He buried his face in the crook of their neck, his lips brushing over their skin, stifling the primal groans that were threatening to escape.

His hips began to move in time with his hand, his thrusts growing harder, more urgent. His partner's body rocked slightly with each motion, still asleep but pressed perfectly against him. The soft sounds they made only fueled him more. He was past the point of no return, his body demanding more, harder, faster.

Finally, the heat building in his core reached its peak. With a final hard thrust, he came with a deep, guttural growl, his entire body tensing as he spilled inside them. The force of it made his partner stir, their body jerking awake just as the intensity of his climax washed over him.

They blinked in confusion, their eyes still heavy with sleep as they turned to look at him. "Logan...?" they mumbled, their voice soft and drowsy.

He pressed a kiss to their shoulder, panting slightly, his body still trembling with the aftershocks. "I couldn't help myself," he murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips.

They let out a sleepy laugh, their hand reaching back to touch his arm. "Guess you really couldn't wait, huh?"

Logan chuckled lowly, pulling them closer to his chest. "Didn't seem like you minded, darlin!"

They hummed in response, snuggling back against him, still half-asleep, content to drift back into slumber as Logan wrapped his arms around them, satisfied and completely at ease.

Requests are Open!

When It Hurt

Summary: Logan cares for Wade during a painful episode, showing him he’s not alone.

Wade was slipping.

The pain felt different this time—worse. It crawled under his skin, dug into his bones, and wouldn’t let go. He had stopped keeping track of the days, the hours. Time blurred into one endless stream of hurt, and the only constant was the hollow ache deep in his body as it rebelled against him. His healing factor, usually his greatest weapon, was failing him tonight. Every cell felt like it was tearing itself apart.

He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. He was cold. So cold that his teeth chattered, even as sweat dripped down his scarred face. His body lay sprawled on the floor of his dingy apartment, too weak to rise, too stubborn to call anyone for help. Not that anyone would care, right?

The door creaked open, but Wade didn’t lift his head. He couldn’t muster the strength to react, not even when the familiar heavy footsteps approached. A low sigh cut through the silence, and then that voice, rough as gravel.

“Wade.”

Logan.

Wade’s breath hitched, his body convulsing in a painful shiver. He wanted to say something, crack a joke, but all that came out was a broken whisper. “Logey…? Thought you… swore off visiting my… beautiful face.”

Logan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he knelt beside Wade, his gruff demeanor softening for a moment as he took in the sight of the man lying before him—pale, trembling, and looking more fragile than Logan had ever seen him. Wade was always larger than life, hiding behind endless wisecracks and masks, but now… now he looked small. Vulnerable.

“Christ, Wade. What’ve you done to yourself?” Logan muttered, his brows furrowing. His hands were steady as he gently touched Wade’s face, checking for fever. Cold as ice. “You’re freezing.”

Wade let out a weak laugh, the sound hollow and brittle. “Yeah… I’m a walking popsicle… catch me while you can.” His lips quivered, his voice breaking at the end. He hated this—hated being weak in front of anyone, especially Logan.

Logan didn’t bite at the joke this time. His focus was on getting Wade off the floor, his hands moving with surprising gentleness as he hooked them under Wade’s arms. “C’mon. We gotta get you warmed up,” Logan grumbled, lifting him with ease. Wade’s body was limp, too drained to protest.

The mercenary let out a faint groan as Logan guided him toward the couch, his muscles spasming with every step. It hurt. It all hurt. But he didn’t want Logan to see it—didn’t want to let anyone see how much it hurt.

“Logey, if you wanted to… cuddle, you could’ve… asked,” Wade slurred, trying desperately to keep up the act.

Logan just shook his head, his jaw tight. He laid Wade down on the couch, careful not to jostle him too much. Wade could feel the warmth of Logan’s hands lingering on him even after he pulled away. A shiver wracked his body, and his teeth chattered violently.

Logan grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch, covering Wade with it. “You’re a goddamn idiot,” Logan muttered, but there was no anger in his voice—just something that sounded almost… sad.

Wade stared up at him through half-lidded eyes, his vision blurry. “Yeah, but you… you love me,” he whispered, his breath catching on the last word.

Logan froze for a second, his expression flickering with something unreadable. Then, without a word, he disappeared into the kitchen. Wade could hear the sound of cabinets opening and closing, water running. His body ached, the pain throbbing in every limb, but for the first time in days, he wasn’t completely alone.

Logan returned a few minutes later, kneeling beside the couch with a steaming mug in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He pressed the glass to Wade’s lips, helping him drink. Wade gulped down the cool liquid, grateful for the relief it brought to his parched throat.

Logan watched him, his brow furrowed with concern. “When’s the last time you ate somethin’?”

Wade blinked, trying to remember. The days had bled together, but he couldn’t recall the last time he’d had anything besides a few sips of water. “Who needs food when you’ve got… cancer couture?” he rasped, but the joke fell flat, the usual spark missing from his voice.

Logan’s hand tightened around the mug, and for a moment, Wade thought he was going to snap. But instead, Logan held the mug up to Wade’s mouth, his touch so gentle it almost felt like a dream. Wade sipped slowly, the warmth of the broth spreading through his chest, taking the edge off the freezing cold that had settled deep in his bones.

“You’re not invincible,” Logan said quietly, his voice rough but soft. “I know you act like you are, but… this? This ain’t a joke, Wade.”

Wade’s breath hitched, a lump forming in his throat. Logan didn’t talk like this. Logan didn’t do feelings. But here he was, sitting beside Wade like a goddamn guardian angel, watching over him with that stubborn look of his.

“Hey… don’t… don’t get all mushy on me, Wolvie,” Wade whispered, but the usual sarcasm was gone. His voice cracked, betraying him. “I’m fine… always fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Logan snapped, but then his tone softened again. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

That hit Wade harder than any bullet or blade ever had. He closed his eyes, swallowing hard against the sudden wave of emotion that rose in his chest. The pain was still there, sharp and all-consuming, but so was something else—something warmer, something that cut through the icy numbness that had settled over him.

“Why do you care?” Wade asked, his voice barely a whisper now. His eyes fluttered open, meeting Logan’s steady gaze. “Why… do you always come back?”

Logan didn’t answer right away. His expression was stoic, but Wade could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hand gripped the edge of the couch like he was holding something back. Finally, Logan spoke, his voice low and raw.

“Because you’re not alone in this,” he said, his eyes never leaving Wade’s. “No matter how much you act like you wanna be.”

Wade’s breath caught in his throat, and for once, he didn’t have a joke. Didn’t have anything to say to that. Instead, he just let the words settle, let the warmth of Logan’s presence wrap around him like the blanket tucked over his shaking form.

Logan stayed by his side, not moving, not saying another word. He didn’t have to. Wade closed his eyes, feeling the heaviness in his chest start to loosen, just a little.

It still hurt—God, it hurt so much—but with Logan there, it was bearable. He wasn’t fine, not by a long shot. But he wasn’t alone.

And for now, that was enough.

do you write for wade? If so, and if you’re comfortable doing so, may you write a smut fic with Wade x Reader where he has the biggest praise kink when we peg him :3?

Kinktober Day 2- Pegging

Summary:You peg Wade

Wade's praise kink had always been a dirty little secret, buried beneath layers of his typical bravado.

But tonight, the atmosphere buzzed with a different energy as you positioned yourself behind him, a glimmer of mischief dancing in your eyes. You held up the red dildo, its smooth, glossy surface glinting in the dim light, promising everything he craved.

"Look at you, so eager," you teased, your voice sultry and low. His breath caught in his throat, and he looked back at you with wide, hungry eyes.

"Yeah? You really think so?" he shot back, attempting to maintain his usual swagger, but the tremor in his voice gave away his true feelings.

"Absolutely," you replied, smirking as you pressed the tip of the dildo against him. "You're such a good boy for me." With a slow, deliberate motion, you pushed it inside, the size stretching him just right. He gasped, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through him as you filled him completely.

"Fuck! Yes!" he cried, arching his back instinctively, eager for more. You could feel his body respond, heat radiating off him as you began to thrust deeper. But soon, the intensity began to overwhelm him, and he squirmed slightly, trying to pull away from the sensations washing over him.

"Wait-no! It's too much!" he whimpered, his voice a mix of desperation and need, as he fought against the pleasure threatening to consume him.

"Don't run from it, Wade," you said, your tone firm but encouraging. You held him in place, feeling the tension in his body as you pressed on. "You can take it. Just breathe and let it happen.”

He shook his head, panting heavily as you adjusted your angle, pushing deeper inside him. "I can't! It's-oh my God!" The intensity was driving him to the brink, and his eyes fluttered as he felt the sensations build higher and higher.

"Good boy," you praised, relishing the way he squirmed under you. "You're doing so well. Just let go and enjoy it." Each thrust drew more gasps from him, and you could feel the tightness in his body as he struggled to hold on.

"Please, I-" His words broke off into a series of desperate moans, his body trembling beneath you as you maintained that relentless rhythm. He was a mix of pleasure and desperation, torn between the overwhelming sensations and his instinct to escape.

"Look at me," you commanded, your voice thick with lust as you caught his gaze. "You're perfect like this.

Just give in. I want to see you lose control."

He was shaking now, the pleasure radiating through him, building higher with every thrust. "I'm gonna cum!" he gasped, his breath coming in ragged bursts as you pushed him closer and closer to the edge.

"Let go, Wade. Show me how much you want this," you urged, and with one final deep thrust, you felt him shatter.

"Good boy! Just like that," you encouraged, your voice dripping with approval as you watched him break apart, completely at your mercy. The sounds of his moans filled the air, and you relished the sight of him coming undone, the sheer intensity of it all both thrilling and satisfying.

"God, you're incredible," you murmured, wrapping your arms around him as he slowly came down from the high. You held him close, feeling the heat radiating off his body, the rush of pleasure still coursing through him.

Wade sighed, blissfully exhausted, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. A satisfied smile broke through the haze of pleasure on his face, and you could see the delight mingled with disbelief. "I didn't think I could feel that much," he admitted, his voice breathy and slightly shaky.

"Just wait until next time," you teased, a playful glint in your eyes. "We'll explore even more."

Wade chuckled, still basking in the afterglow. "I'll need a moment to recover from this one," he said, his grin infectious.

In that moment, both of you knew this would be a night marked by unrestrained pleasure, intimacy, and the thrill of letting go completely. You had unlocked a side of him that he rarely let anyone see, and it felt electrifying to know he was yours, utterly and completely.

Requests are Open!