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rowanthestrange · 7 months ago
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The thing is, you could’ve made Rogue entering to “I’m The Bad Guy, Duh.” easily make sense if you’d wanted to. You’d have just written that he thinks he’s a bad guy all cool and nefarious - Rogue neither refers to himself negatively, and the Doctor says he’s cool not him (admittedly you’d still have to explain him pre-approaching the string quartet to play it, or it be magic but whatever).
You have Rogue think he’s A Bad Boy, but the Doctor be all ‘no you’re not there’s a heart of gold there’. He wouldn’t have freed himself with an I Am A Time Lord speech giving himself authority over Rogue, it would be appealing to Rogue’s good side that he doesn’t actually want to incinerate him etc. Rogue would choose to do the ‘good guy’ decisions himself, not have them imposed. He’d convince Rogue killing the birds is wrong, not just take his stuff and modify it - he’d get Rogue to reveal his better nature. The Doctor would convince him to leave his gun on the ship.
This is what would bite them later, where they’d both know, maybe with just a look, that if Rogue could have just shot the birds stuck to the glue trap, they wouldn’t have been in this mess. With Rogue then acting correctly ‘sometimes you need someone to be the bad guy’ by taking the controller when the Doctor was busy snogging him and dispatching Ruby himself.
Leading into a finale where Ruby is in a different dimension and relying on her battle-earpiece skills to fend off 5 murderous birds as long as possible, giving us an opportunity to engage with whatever her reality warping powers are but it ‘could’ just be dimensional weirdness, and if the TARDIS was still the one who programmed the teleport she knows where Ruby is, and luckily for her if unluckily for the universe, the dimensions are now all bleeding at the edges and seeping out and Doctor Who is a TV show, yada yada yada.
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landopoet · 1 month ago
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devotion.
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pairing teammate!lando x sainz!reader
warnings smut, alcohol mentions
synopsis things change between you and your teammate. you’re not sure if it’s a change you like.
part two of a two part series
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Clandestine meetings soon became you two’s most trusted secret.
The gentle touches, quiet whispers, longing glances and warm smiles were something you had grown to love. And your favourite part about it being secret? It was all about you.
In public, you’d pay no mind to Lando. During races, you’d still act like you hate him, still try and cause trouble on the track. But in private, where the only set of eyes on you were the green irises of the man you love, you’d be the centre of attention.
Lando’s hands wouldn’t touch you the same way in public as they do in the enclosed space of his driver room, hotel room, or your home. And that excited you.
You liked being secret. It was something sacred just between the two of you.
You liked it so much, you started to hate it. Maybe it was just the fact that Lando took you being a secret a bit too far. Or maybe it was just his way of hiding your relationship, if you’d even call it that.
You just couldn’t understand him going out with another girl, but still ending up in your bed at the end of the day.
Especially when you had deleted every dating app, got rid of every memory of any guy you were talking to, all because you and Lando have the chance to become something.
Your hope of that lessens everytime you see rumours of him going out with girls. It’s never anything romantic, just him at a table with a new girl every other week, so it didn’t bother you as much.
The bubbles in your hotel bathtub were softly caressing your skin when you saw the picture.
Casually scrolling on your phone in the bath as you waited for the conditioner to absorb into your hair, you made the horrible decision of clicking on that tempting X icon in the top left corner of your homescreen.
The first post? A picture of Lando’s tongue down a girl’s throat.
For the first time in a long time, Lando was the reason for that burning and disgusted feeling in your stomach. It felt like it was making its way up, the feeling getting caught in your throat as you type something out into a tweet, shut your phone off and drop it to the floor.
Even when you weren’t looking at it, the picture was burned into the back of your eyelids.
The mere image of his hands on her waist— the same hands he touched you with— was enough to make you feel that hatred crawling back.
As if on cue, your phone started ringing and the contact was none other than Lando himself.
“Hey, darling.”
You rolled your eyes at the familiar pet name. “Hi, Lando.”
Shuffling was heard on the other side of the call, you could only assume Lando was still in bed with the girl from that picture. “What’s with the tone? No ‘Lan’, no ‘baby’?”
“Sorry,” you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Stressful day.”
Lando chuckled. “Baby, we work at the same place. I’d know if you were off because of a stressful day. What’s wrong?”
You hated how he knew you inside and out, yet to you he had glued himself shut and you can’t pry yourself in.
“I don’t know.”
A sigh brushed past Lando’s lips. He knew why you were in a mood, and it didn’t exactly excite him to do that to you. In all honesty, he didn’t even know why he did it. It just happened, and you’re technically not together, so he thought it wasn’t a big deal.
The call stays silent for a minute or two, both of you trying to come up with what to say. Lando speaks first. “Come to my room. 304.”
“Lan, I’m no-” He hung up before you could even respond.
You finished your bath, hoping the water washes away whatever feeling was brewing in your chest.
The view of yourself in the mirror made you feel pathetic— why were you sulking over some guy?
It wasn’t even anyone special. Just the guy you’ve been in love with for about as long as you’d known him. The guy, who confuses you beyond words. You can’t help but try to decode whatever lies in the gaps and the silence, yet having no luck.
Despite being confused and frustrated, you dried your hair and changed into your PJs, and locked the hotel room behind yourself.
Lando’s room was just across the hall, the fourth door from yours.
This all felt too familiar, only fuelling the confusion and fear in your chest. It suffocated you, the notion that despite you being Lando’s, he wasn’t entirely yours.
Yet you still spent the night with him— slow and borderline loving, careful hands travelling your body and hungry lips trailing your neck.
And in the morning, the sun just above the horizon, you slipped from Lando’s grasp and found yourself crying away your mascara before it’s properly dried.
The black taint stained your cheeks, dripping down your chin and onto your sweatpants. You felt partly relieved to know Lando’s having fun. You’d hate to be the one to stop him from going out and finding other girls.
But that’s also what made you partly heartbroken.
It’s not even about you being hurt, it’s about other girls being replacements for each other, not knowing that you’re just like them— aching and breaking for someone that doesn’t see you the same way.
Your phone dings with a message as you wipe your tears away.
Lando: Don’t like morning cuddles anymore?
A giggle slipped past your lips before you thought to catch it, and you quickly typed up a reply.
You: I have a breakfast thing with Carlos.
You: Knew I’d probably ditch it if I were to cuddle you awake.
Lando: Will I see you at the party tonight?
Lando: DJs booth, just the place to be :))
You: I’ll think about it.
Except that you already had. You decided to go, more so for yourself than for Lando, but the thought that you’d get to spend more time with him sure was a bonus.
You continued on with getting ready as you called your brother and asked if he wanted to get breakfast. He instantly agreed, and you changed into something more casual and comfortable than the tear stained sweatshirt and mascara stained sweatpants.
Carlos was waiting for you in his car.
When you got in, he immediately felt something was off. Ever since you were little, it seemed like he had some sort of telepathy with you. Whenever you were sad, Carlos was there and comforting you.
He’s not sure what exactly is wrong right now, but he knows you need your big brother.
Carlos presses a few buttons on the control panel of the car and the sound of your favourite song plays. Your head turns to look at Carlos with an appreciative look on your face, a small smile adorning your lips.
You watch as he starts driving and turns the volume up, slowly beginning to dance along to the song as he mouths the lyrics. Soon, you broke out of your sadness and sang along with your brother.
This was exactly why you never gave up. Him.
Carlos has always been a great brother. You were still very small when you realised that. And everyday, every year, he proves that to be more and more true. Like when you were fourteen.
That year, the taste of heartache became familiar on your tongue.
It was the first time you had felt the touch of a male. It still lingered weeks after it happened. You felt loved and cared for, until you didn’t. Carlos was there through all of it, comforting you and threatening to beat that guy up for you.
Even though he was as protective as he could be, your heart kept breaking. It fixed itself, glued each broken shard back together, only to shatter again.
The flavour of love soon tasted more bitter than sweet. And you’re starting to feel the same way at twenty-four.
Minus the heart breaking and fixing itself part, but the flavour of bitterness still lingered on your tongue as you tried to wash it down with orange juice.
“Is it good?” Carlos points to your caesar salad with his fork, mouthful of scrambled eggs muffling his voice.
You poke at your food with a fork and shrug. “A bit bitter, but it’s fine.”
Carlos laughs at that, as he grabs your plate and switches it with his own. “The scrambled eggs are a bit… difficult to chew. But it’s better than croutons and whatever else is in this.”
You watch your brother take a bite of the salad, immediately making a face and trying his best not to spit it out. “You okay?”
“Mhm,” he says, through a faux pained expression. “It’s delicious.”
“I bet it is.”
Laughter came so easily when you were with your brother.
Carlos made you laugh so much you’d feel your abdomen grow sore with every giggle and laugh that escaped your lips. And Carlos loved seeing your eyes form into crescent moons, knowing that he’s still able to somehow make you feel better.
“Are you going to the party?” Carlos asks as you get out of his car, back at the hotel.
“Yep,” you shrug. “I don’t see why not.”
Carlos gives you a look as if he knew something, but said nothing about it. You brushed it off and made your way to the lobby. You ask for your key at reception, take the elevator to the fourth floor and as you’re about to unlock room 301, Lando’s hotel room door opens.
You don’t turn around to look, because you expect it to be Lando and you’re not sure if you want to talk to him right now. But what makes you whip your head to the left is the sound of a female giggle.
There she was. Same brown hair, same tan skin, same beautiful figure. Identical to the picture you had seen on twitter.
It made you sick to your stomach. Especially when you could see Lando’s head peeking out to kiss her goodbye, and you swore you could see his eyes focused on you. Though you can’t be sure, because as soon as you saw his curly brown hair, you were stepping into your hotel room.
It takes about fifteen minutes for you to calm down and for Lando to knock on your door.
You opened it expecting it to be room service, but Lando slipped inside before you could close the door on him. “You’re avoiding me.”
“I’d have no reason to, even if I was.” You shrug as you take a seat on the bed. Lando squats down in front of you, the palms of his hands flattening on your knees.
He rests his bearded chin on the top of his hand. “What’s wrong?”
“I already told you,” you shrug, before leaning back to push yourself up on the palms of your hands. “I’m stressed with the races starting up again.”
“You’ve been doing just fine, baby.” Lando reassures you. “You got second place, remember?”
“That’s the problem. I’m always in second place.” You’re not sure if you’re talking about the race or not anymore, but you mean whatever you said.
Lando leaned up to try and kiss you, but you turned away.
“And I think it’s best if we stay friends.”
That hit Lando right in the gut. He felt his chest constricting under the weight of your words, all the air being squeezed out of his lungs as each word plugged his airways.
“What? What do you mean?”
You shrug. “I want to focus on my career.”
Lando runs the palms of his hands across his face. He’s not sure why, but he has a feeling it’s got to do with the girl who left his hotel earlier. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”
“I guess.” You shrug, sitting up and looking at him. Lando now stood on his feet, looking down at you as his fingers softly grabbed your chin.
He lifted your face up to look at him, thumb softly brushing past your bottom lip. As if it’s a habit, your lips parted and he smirked.
Lando knows you don’t mean it. You know it, too. You just needed a reason to get a break from him, even though you really don’t fucking want to.
Lando sits beside you, the familiar warmth of his hands wrapping around your waist and next thing you know, you’re on his lap. His lips don’t hesitate to kiss away any thought of you two staying just friends.
As much as this relationship hurt you, it was irresistible.
You longed for the lingering taste of Lando’s saliva mixing with yours, the warmth of his hands perfectly slotted on your waist, the lasting vibration of his moans in your mouth.
And Lando longed for it just the same.
He couldn’t tell you why he was going out with a different girl every other night, for the past two weeks of you two being… something.
Lando’s not even sure himself. It’s just something he was used to, but these times around it just felt so wrong. Yet he couldn’t say no to those girls, until he’s sure you feel the same overwhelming feeling of love he has for you.
When you fall asleep in his arms, Lando fights the internal battle to stay with you. But he knows it’s for the better if he leaves before you wake up.
The warmth of his body still cradles the sheets he laid in when you get woken up by a call.
You swallow down the bittersweet feeling in your throat before picking up, slumber still lingering on your tongue. “Hello?”
“Morning, lil’ Sainz.” Daniel’s cheery tone tickles your ear as you turn on your side. “You hungry?”
You check the clock on the wall. Six in the evening never looked so bright, but again, you’re in Las Vegas and it’s never dark in the city that never sleeps.
“Sure, what do you have in mind?”
Daniel’s smile can be heard from a mile away when he talks and it warms you up inside. “Sushi or pizza, your pick.”
“Hm,” you sit up and stretch, finally letting Lando’s warmth slip away from your skin. “I’m feeling like sushi, to be honest.”
“Sushi it is! See you in twenty.”
And in twenty minutes, you were sitting on your hotel room bed, Daniel telling you stories about Max and you stuffing sushi into your mouth, trying not to choke as you laughed.
“Are you going to the party?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” You ask, noticing how it’s the third time you’ve heard the same question.
Daniel shrugs. “I’m just wondering,” he explains. “Don’t know if I would’ve gone without you.”
Over the last few weeks, you and Daniel have become close. So close that he’s probably the only one on the grid that knows about the little situationship you have going on with Lando.
But Daniel never brings him up, not unless you want to talk about it.
“I’m going,” you answer his previous question. “I bought a dress for this specific occasion.”
“Care to show it?”
You bounced to your feet at his question and made your way to your suitcase, not noticing how Daniel’s eyes followed each of your moves. You pulled out a black dress before making your way to your bathroom and trying it on.
Daniel waited patiently as you got dressed, the sushi entertaining him until the bathroom door opened.
The sushi he held up with his chopsticks never made it to his mouth, stuck mid-air as he gaped at the image in front of him — a long, silk dress with a slit deep enough to reveal the tender flesh of your left thigh, your shoulders adorned by thin and delicate straps.
You giggle at Daniel’s reaction. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
The aussie briefly nods. “It’s gorgeous.”
You roll your eyes, leaning against the doorway with your arms crossed over your chest. “Now, without pretending to be Lando?”
“It’s beautiful on you. Gonna make him drool,” Daniel grins at you. “My impression’s spot on and you know it.”
You giggle as you roll your eyes again, turning back around to the bathroom. The door doesn’t close shut this time, which prompts Daniel to rise to his feet and investigate what you were up to.
Leaning against the doorway, his golden eyes carefully watched as you dabbed on makeup. “Do you really need all that?”
“Yeah, you could use some, too.” You tease, leaning against the bathroom cabinet to get closer to the mirror.
“I mean,” you turn to Daniel when he shrugs. “You’ll be crying it off anyway.”
A used wet-wipe lands on Daniel’s crossed arms, him laughing and you threatening to throw another one. “Get out.”
“Alright, alright.” He raises his hands in defeat. “I’m picking you up in an hour, hopefully you’re done caking yourself in makeup by then.”
“Bye, Daniel.” You raise your voice as if to urge him to leave.
“See you, love.”
The hotel room door closes and you’re left alone again, thoughts of Lando quickly seeping back into your mind.
It’s like every time you tried to get rid of him, he found a way back in. And who are you to say no to him?
When you fell asleep in his arms earlier, the familiar scent of him clouding your mind, you felt it again. And as much as you cursed yourself for feeling it, you couldn’t help but let the feeling bloom in your chest.
Lando felt it too, and he felt it full force when he saw you walking into the club with Daniel’s arm around your waist. Yet the feeling of love in his chest was mixed with a tinge of jealousy. Or maybe more than a tinge, because his jaw clenched at the mere sight of your little dress swaying with every step you took.
“Everything alright, Lan?” Lando’s armcandy of the night mumbles against his neck.
His green eyes track you from across the club, narrowing in on you when you spot him and give him a small wink. “Perfect.”
You felt sick to your stomach at the sight of Lando and the same girl from earlier. His arm was gripping her waist in a way you thought was special to you and it made your skin crawl.
“You think he believed it?”
You turn to Daniel as he asks, sitting back in the booth you two shared. “I think so.”
“I can keep the act going, if you’d like.” He offers with a cheeky grin decorating his face.
You sip the margarita he had ordered for you, before smiling softly. “I’ll take you up on that, then.”
The night seems to pass you by as you get occupied in a conversation with your brother and his friends. Soon, the blasting music and fluorescent lights began to bore you, so you chose to scan the club for something to do.
When the dance floor catches your eye, you grab Daniel’s wrist. “Get up.”
The golden eyed man doesn’t utter a word as he gets up and follows you like a lost puppy, ready to go wherever you take him. He quickly realises what you want to do, his arm snaking around your waist in an incredibly familiar way.
Daniel feels your hand find the back of his neck as he pulls you in from behind, slowly moving your hips against his. It’s a platonic act, both of you know it, but at the moment, Daniel feels like it’s more than just a ruse to make Lando jealous.
Maybe, for the night, he could let loose and show you what a good man is. Maybe, if it all goes right, he’d get to take you back to the hotel, too.
He loses all hope for that when he notices your eyes scanning the room again, looking for the one and only man in your heart.
The man stood at the bar, green eyes carefully narrowed at the hand that’s slowly moving closer to your inner thighs.
He’s not sure why he’s so fucking jealous. It’s not like he wasn’t doing the same damn thing twenty minutes ago, hands exploring parts of the armcandy’s body they’ve never touched before. Lando feels like its fine only when he does it.
A gentle tug on his arm averts his attention elsewhere. Natalie, or whatever her name was, looked up at Lando with her big brown eyes. “Do you want to leave?”
Lando’s curls bounced when he shook his head. “No, baby.” You watch as he kisses her head, arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders. “You having fun?”
“Mhm,” she grins up at him, noses touching and the image slowly burns into your memory. You feel a spark of something inside of you, something that caused you to be more handsy with Daniel.
The sight of Daniel’s hands grabbing your ass, your arms tracing the outline of his pecs and Daniel grinning down at you with a look only you could get out of a man, made Lando’s blood boil.
The party turned less into a celebration for the race and more of a competition between you and Lando— both of you were trying to see how much the other could take until one of you inevitably had enough.
Lando didn’t seem to be phased at all, instead waiting for the moment you looked his way. His fingers curled around the short brunette’s jaw as he pulled her in, his tongue exploring her vodka flavoured mouth.
You watched them make out, anger and envy filling your system. You felt it pulse through your veins and it stopped the second Daniel spoke. “You might not like this idea, but maybe-”
“Kiss me.”
The australian blinks a few times, as if to try and make sense of what you just said. “What?”
“When Lando looks at us, I need you to kiss me.” You explained, arms wrapping around Daniel’s warm neck. You saw the blush creeping onto his cheeks. “Friends kiss, don’t they?”
“I mean, yeah.” He shrugs, an awkward grin decorating his pretty lips. “Sure.”
The song changes and you start dancing again, untangling yourself from Daniel and letting your own hands travel your body and raise your dress slightly, ass facing Daniel as he tries his best not to look at you too much.
But he couldn’t help it. His eyes seemed to be drawn to your figure, hands glued to your hips as you grinded on him again, back against his chest and faces inches apart. Daniel wasn’t even sure if Lando was looking, but he kissed you anyway.
His whiskey flavoured lips perfectly matched the taste of the margarita on yours, tongues fighting a battle neither of you will win. The kiss felt like something new, something you’ve never felt before and want to feel again, and again, and again.
To your luck, Lando was looking. He wasn’t just looking— he was burning holes into the back of your head with the intense stare he had on the image in front of him— his ex-teammate kissing his fucking girl.
Lando wouldn’t have that.
The brunette girl he was making out with earlier stands confused as her date peels himself away from her, making his way to the middle of the dance floor.
Daniel feels the warmth of your breath being torn away and the last thing he sees is Lando’s tight grip on your waist and your body following him into the bathroom.
The slam of the bathroom door is loud enough to scare whoever might’ve been in the neighbouring room.
You didn’t have enough time to comprehend what happened until you see Lando’s hungry eyes trailing your face.
“Hey, Lando.” A teasing smirk plays on your lips as you button up the third button on his shirt. “Button up, you look like a whore.”
The alcohol was obviously still twirling in your brain, but Lando didn’t care. “You’re one to talk, princess.”
You shrug. “I dunno what you’re talking about.”
“Oh yeah?” Lando stares at you, a fire so bright in his eyes that it burns you before he’s even touched you. “I’m sure you know exactly what I’m fucking talking about.”
The anger in his tone made you melt. You felt how much your teasing had rubbed off on him and the thought of him letting his anger out on you made you excited.
The bathroom door lock snaps when Lando’s fingers turn it, and the anticipation burns in your chest. It doesn’t take long for him to kiss you, lips attacking your mouth in a way you’ve never felt before.
Lando brings his hands to your hips, pulling you to sit on the edge of the marble countertop next to the sink. He traces his tongue along your jaw and neck, finding all the sensitive spots he had already memorised.
A loud whimper leaves your lips when he bites right above your collarbone, the tender skin turning red and teeth marks indenting it. Lando laps at the skin, groaning against it as if the taste of you was pleasure to him.
Lando slipped the straps of your little black dress off your shoulders, revealing your bare chest. He didn’t hesitate, tongue finding your left nipple and twirling around it.
“You lose yourself, darling.” He growls against your skin, pushing you further against the cabinet as your thighs dig into the edge of it. “Every time I’m not there to control you, you misbehave.”
“Mmm,” you groan as his hand wraps around your neck, softly applying pressure with his fingertips. You feel the air softly escape your lungs and the exhale is slow when you say, “misbehave?”
Lando bites back what he initially wants to say, a smirk decorating his soft lips when he notices the glimmer of lust in your eyes. “Little sluts like you never know when they misbehave, hm? Rubbing yourself all over my ex-teammate, kissing him… You thought I wouldn’t do anything about it?”
“I knew you would,” you smile, canines shining in the white glow of the bathroom lights. “I wanted you to.”
Lando narrows his eyes at you. “Is that so, pretty girl?” His fingers curl around your neck tighter, air hitching in your throat.
With one swift move, Lando pulls you off the cabinet and turns you around to face the mirror on the wall. It’s big enough that you can see your entire body and Lando standing behind you.
You’re too focused on the hunger in Lando’s eyes to notice him practically tearing your dress upwards, pulling your drenched panties to the side and slipping himself into you with ease.
“So fucking wet,” he moans, fingers digging into your hips so painfully that it feels good. “Was it me or was it Daniel that got you this wet, baby?”
A quiet moan leaves your lips as he stretches you out. You’d answer truthfully, but it’s too much fun seeing Lando so worked up knowing damn well he’s the only one who gets you soaked like this. “Mmh, fuck.”
“What was that?”
“He,” you huff, hissing when he slams into you a bit rougher this time. “Daniel got me, fuck,” the words get caught in your throat when Lando’s palm makes contact with your bare asscheek.
“Stop fucking lying to me.” He says through gritted teeth. “I know he can’t make you feel the same way I can.”
You hate that he’s right.
As fun as Daniel was, he could never have you be a whimpering mess underneath him. You’re sure he’s great and you know any woman that ends up with him will be lucky, but it won’t be you.
Lando pulls you back into the moment with a tug on the fistfull of your hair in his palm. “Look at me when I speak to you, darling.” Your eyes lock onto him in the reflection of the mirror. “Good girl.”
A weird feeling settles in your belly when he says that phrase. He’s never used it for you before and you realise you fucking love it. The grin on your face and half-lidded eyes show it, too.
Your head drops down onto the cabinet as Lando grips your hips again, pulling you into him as he basks in the melodical moans coming from your pretty lips.
“Look at yourself,” his veiny hand wraps around your neck and fingers dig into the base of your jaw, lifting your head up to face the mirror. “Such a fucking slut.”
Lando’s still pounding into you when the door handle twists and someone tries to get in.
The skin-to-skin noise doesn’t stop as Lando shouts. “Occupied!” all while his hand covers your mouth. He’s purposefully digging his cock deep into you, trying to fish out any loud noise he can get.
You’re drooling all over his fingers when your mouth parts and he slips two of them past your lips. Lando can feel your high approaching and he fucks deeper into you, surprising you with an orgasm.
You half expected him to leave you without one, but the pleasure washes over you as you moan his name. “Fuck, Lando!” He’s groaning when your walls close around him, and he’s spilling into you, his warm cum burning you from the inside.
Before you can even open your eyes, Lando’s flipping you around and pulling you off the cabinet. Your legs give out and Lando’s hands wrap around your waist before you fall to your knees, instead bringing you down slowly.
You look up at him, lashes fluttering as he pumps his cock a couple times. “Open your mouth, doll.”
Lucky you, not only did your pussy get filled to the brim and graciously given an orgasm, you get to feel his veins burn into the back of your throat, too.
Your soft lips part, closer to the base of his cock. As hot as it was the first time you did this, and the numerous times after, Lando wasn’t in the mood for any teasing.
“I told you to open your mouth, not to lick my dick and act as if you’re not desperate to have me down your throat.”
That statement alone was enough to make you open your mouth, greedily taking his whole cock down your throat.
You’re lucky the club was blasting music, perfectly drowning out your moans and whimpering as your nose brushed against Lando’s pubes.
Lando’s known for being loud, so his moans were probably heard from the hallway. For some odd reason, that turned you on.
His dick dug into your throat and you felt your eyes prick with tears, whimpers bouncing off his shaft and struggling to get past your lips. With basically no warning, Lando’s dick twitched and warm liquid ran down your throat. And you swallowed it without a word from Lando.
Lando wipes your bottom lip with his thumb. “Get up.”
You do as told, fixing the edge of your dress to lay flat against your thighs. You’re hiding yourself from him as if he wasn’t just in you a few minutes ago.
Lando buckles his belt up and watches as you look at yourself in the mirror. Your fingers softly dab at your face and you try your best to fix the mascara that runs down your cheeks.
His warm arms wrap around your waist and his face finds your neck. “You’re beautiful.”
“Did you just leave the girl by herself?” You ask, looking at him in the reflection of the mirror.
Lando shrugs behind you. “I’m sure she found her way home, or at least some company.”
“You’re a dickhead, Norris.”
“And you love it.”
The playful grin on his lips caused you to break out in a smile.
Lando follows you out of the bathroom, hand tightly wrapped around yours, fingers intertwined. Daniel’s eyes meet you across the club and he feels his heart sink to his feet at the sight of Lando so closely entwined with you.
“Hey,” the aussie says to you when you walk up to the table you two sat at. He’s accompanied by Charles and Max, who look at you with warm and welcoming smiles. “You okay?”
“Mhm,” you smile at him and place your knee on the seat next to his thigh. You lean over him, completely unaware that your dress rides up and shows the smallest bit of your ass. Daniel softly tugs the dress down so it covers you up as you grab what you need. “Forgot my handbag.”
The men at the table watch you walk away, hips swaying like they usually do, and Lando’s arm wraps around your waist again as he leads you out the club.
Through blurred vision and quiet laughs, you somehow make it back to the hotel. As if it’s a habit, you made a beeline to Lando’s hotel room as soon as the elevator door opened.
Lando watched as you grabbed his keycard and swiped it to open the room.
When the light turned on, Lando’s messy hotel room came into your blurry sight. It was neatly messy, some clothes in piles and his perfumes and skincare scattered across the coffee table.
A giggle slipped past your lips when you saw Dior Sauvage amongst the many tubes and bottles. Of course he’d use that cologne.
You feel warm arms slip around your waist for the nth time this night and you lean back into his embrace. The smell of his cologne mixed with the alcohol lingering on him made your head dizzy. Lando’s lips find your neck and he softly kisses you, leaving a trail of love filled pecks down your shoulder.
“Lando?”
He holds his movements for a moment. “Yes, baby?”
“What is this?” You ask, voice trailing. The item in your hands is something that is so oddly familiar, yet you can’t put your finger on it.
Lando takes the keychain from your hands, fingers smoothing over the yellowing plastic. It’s pretty old, considering he got it when he was still in karting. “It’s the keychain you gave me. When we were like… Eight? After you sabotaged my race.”
At the mention of your karting days, your stomach turns. The memories of how disgustingly you had treated each other flood your brain and you don’t even hide the goosebumps infecting your skin.
Lando’s fingers softly wrap around your wrist and he turns you to face him before pulling you into his chest. The smell of his cologne mixes with the air as you inhale him deeply, trying to cling onto the feeling of comfort you can’t seem to ever hold onto.
For some reason, that tinge of guilt overtook any other emotion in your body and you felt your limbs grow flaccid at the mere thought of your past, and future, with Lando.
The hues in his eyes slowly disappear as he blinks. “You okay?”
“Tired.” The lie slips past your lips so easily, but it’s simpler to lie than to admit that your mind is going at a million miles an hour with thoughts of what you might never be.
Lando’s gentle hands tour your body and he carefully undoes your zipper, slipping the dress off your delicate skin with his fingertips trailing behind. You’re standing in front of him, and even though he’s already seen every part of you, you feel bare. Raw. Exposed.
It doesn’t take an idiot to notice when you’re off, but Lando felt it coming even before you two got to the hotel.
“Here,” he hands you a t-shirt and you nod your head as a thank you. Yet even before you begin putting the shirt on, Lando takes it from your hands again. “Let me help.”
Your curious eyes watch as he pulls the shirt open from the bottom and his eyes lock onto yours, “arms up,” he mumbles and you obey. He tugs the shirt over your head, the smell of his detergent stilling in your sinuses and making you dizzier than you already were.
Warm fingers softly cup your cheek and you lean into the touch, as his other hand fixes the hair that falls on your face. Lando doesn’t talk, you don’t need him to, instead he gently leads you to the bed and lifts the sheets up as you get in.
Your gaze follows his figure as he walks around to the other side of the bed and sits down at the foot of it. An annoyed grumble leaves his mouth as he fumbles with the buttons, but gives up when he can’t manage to undo them. The muscles on his back flex as he raises his arms to tug off the shirt, and not an inch of his skin goes unnoticed by your gaze.
You connect the dots on his back and draw constellations from them, far more beautiful than the ones you’ve observed in the night sky.
He lays his curls down on the soft pillow, facing you and his hazel eyes carefully study your face. Lando forced himself to stay on his side of the bed, despite every cell in his body practically begging to touch you.
“Come closer.” You whisper and he scoots over even before the words fully leave your mouth. You feel his arms gently wrap around your waist as he pulls you in with your back to his bare chest.
When his lips press against your neck, then your collarbone, and then your shoulder, you expect him to slip his hands into your underwear, how he would every single night you’d end up like this. Your legs subconsciously move apart as you push yourself onto your back.
Lando doesn’t do what you expected him to, though. He continues placing gentle kisses on your shoulder, not moving any closer to your chest and his hands still wrapped around you. “Not tonight, baby.” He mumbles against your skin, the warmth of his breath causing goosebumps to erupt.
“Why not?”
Lando pulls away looking at you. “That's all we do.”
You feel a certain warmth in your belly and a piercing feeling in your chest. “Yeah.”
He lays back down, curls bouncing as he gets more comfortable. You notice his green, piercing gaze softly studying your face as you look up at the ceiling. Lando knows something’s wrong. Nothing’s been right since he left you and Carlos’ home.
“Can we watch something?” You ask, eyes examining Lando’s face before he softly nods and reaches for the remote. The TV turns on to some random rom-com, and that’s what you settle on watching.
It’s one of the most clichè movies you’ve watched, and you can’t help but let a small smile decorate your face. Your eyes were on the screen, and Lando’s eyes were on you.
He adored the curve of your nose, the shape of your lips, the lashes that sat atop your gorgeous eyes. Lando’s been trying to ignore the feelings growing in his heart, but seeing you this close, being able to just watch you, he decides not to.
“Do you remember the first time we kissed?” Lando’s low and gravelly voice tickles your ears. You turn your head a little towards him, watching how his eyes flickered with something close to what you felt.
“Like, at my house?” You ask, a bit confused by his sudden question. “What about it, Lan?”
He quickly shakes his head. “No, the very first time, when we were sixteen.”
As the words leave his lips, you notice the familiar look of anxiety on his face. The same look he gave you right before his lips touched yours, in that parking lot you soon found to be your favourite place.
That race was proven to be the worst of both of you’s careers— high speed corners, oversteer, crash.
You remember the anticipation of a race weekend brewing in your stomach, hands shaking and heart palpitating as you got into your race car. Lando was right ahead of you, his helmet bright as he got into his own car.
The race started as every other one, you felt confident and proud to have gotten this far. The corners were easy enough to turn, the car felt smooth and you had no doubt you’d land a podium that day or maybe even win the race.
The mind of a sixteen year old girl is more naive and confident than anyone else.
You felt the excitement in your chest as the next corner was easy enough to turn, and it’d let you be even further ahead of your teammate. But, as if it was on purpose, Lando’s car rear ended yours and both of you spun out.
Lando never felt such embarrassment and guilt, especially when he saw you get out of the car with clenched fists and angry strides.
You’re not sure what happened after that, but you remember ditching the briefing with your team after saying you felt ill and hiding in the parking lot, behind a car parked next to the curb.
The humming of the approaching evening managed to calm you down. You felt cold, reminding you that you can, in fact, feel and you’re not just a machine that’s expected to do amazing all the time.
Your silence was interrupted, because even if you were on the other side of the world, Lando would somehow find you.
“Want some?” He appeared from behind the car and startled you, a bottle of champagne in hand.
Your eyebrows furrowed. “How’d you get that?”
The brunet simply shrugged and sat down beside you, taking a large gulp of the champagne before handing it to you. You didn’t hesitate to take it and chug some.
“Listen, I’m sorry-“
“It’s fine.” You shut his apology down. “I wouldn’t have won anyway.”
Lando shook his head, clearly dismissing whatever you just said. “You’re stupid if you think that.”
“Gee, thanks.” You roll your eyes and take another swing of the champagne bottle. “Did you only come here to apologise?”
Lando shrugged. “Kinda, yeah.” You couldn’t help but laugh slightly at his expression. “I honestly feel bad, you would have definitely won today if I didn’t fuck up.”
“I heard it was a car issue.” You looked at him for the first time that evening. He looked genuinely upset, which was unusual behaviour for him, especially when it was something to do with you.
“Yeah,” he looked up at the darkening sky. “I could’ve reported it earlier, but I thought I could get in a few more laps before doing that.”
A laugh escaped your lips before you’d thought to catch it. “Was it that or did you plan to sabotage my race? As some sort of revenge, or something.”
“No,” he admits, looking back to the ground. He was nervous and scared, and wasn’t in the mood to tease you. “I wouldn’t do that. Not to you.”
Your curious and confused eyes met his. “What?” Your voice cracked and some form of anger laced your words. “Last time I checked, you fucking hated me.”
“I could never hate you, Y/N.”
“That’s bullshit, you’ve only ever tried to sabotage my races and you’ve been a dick to me for as long as I’ve known you.”
Lando sighs, not sure how to convince you or explain what he means. “I don’t know what changed, but I’m not like that anymore. I’ve tried to be nice to you, but you never take it seriously and you act mean instead of accepting it.”
“Are you trying to make me pity you so I forgive you for that stunt you pulled today?” You huff, a disappointed laugh leaving your lips. “You’re unbelievable, Norris. Don’t act like you actually like m-“
That’s when he kissed you.
You felt his breath brushing against your skin as his lips crashed against yours, chapped and rough, but it felt just right.
For a minute or two, you didn’t pull away. You let him kiss you and you kissed him back, and it was exactly what you needed. It wasn’t the champagne swirling in your tummy that made you all warm inside, but instead the soft touch of his fingers to your jaw.
It’s almost like it snapped you into reality.
You pulled away and scooted further from him, watching him with widened eyes. “What the fuck…”
“I’m not acting.” Is all Lando said, before he got up and left you alone, on the curb, just like he found you ten minutes before.
You felt awful for how you handled it, because after his confession, he went back to being cold and mean to you. He wouldn’t utter a word your way unless he absolutely had to, and the teasing remarks were gone.
It all changed from then, until about three years after, when both of you got into Formula One.
You blink and look back at Lando, the memory replaying in your mind multiple times as you nod. “Yeah, I remember it, why?”
“I did mean it.” He hums, fingers softly tugging a piece of your hair behind your ear after you’d turned around to face him. “I liked you back then. I was an idiot for not telling you.”
“Lando-“
“Let me talk, baby.” Lando’s green eyes reassure you and you urge him to speak.
“I was sixteen and stupid, and not persistent in getting what I wanted. I shut those feelings down until pretty recently, when I realised that I never really hated you. I was intrigued and interested.”
He takes a pause, mind sorting through the plethora of thoughts circling his mind in that moment.
“I’ve been yours since I kissed you.” You felt his words weigh on your chest. And you’re not sure if you can trust him.
“Then why did you do that? You can’t imagine how awful it felt seeing pictures of you and all those girls, while I laid in my bed and waited for you to call me and repeat the same routine.”
“I don’t know.” He admits, sounding as genuine as he is. “I was trying to ignore the feelings, in fear of rejection again, even though I knew I had you.”
“Yeah.” You agreed, not sure what to say. It feels awkward talking your feelings out with him, since you’ve never really done that before.
“It’s always been you.” Your eyes find his face again when he speaks. “Even though you hated me, it’s always been you.”
A small, bittersweet grin spread across your cheeks. “I used to hate you with everything I had in me.”
“I know.” It pains Lando to hear it, but he needed the reminder that the mutual hate you two have gone through for him to have you in his arms right now was too much to lose. He can’t risk that. “I felt it.”
“I’m sorry. About everything.” Lando felt the sincerity in your voice as you spoke. It’s the first time he’s actually hearing you speak about your feelings and he’s scared. He’s not sure if it’s the fear of rejection or the fear of losing you, but it shakes him to his core and he’s not sure how to handle it.
“It’s okay.” He says, eyes glimmering with a mixture of anxiety and desperation in them. “Get some sleep, we have a flight tomorrow.”
You nod softly, turning on your side but still facing him. There’s no amount of words you could say to him that would fully explain what’s exactly going on in your mind. It’s running at the speed of light with thoughts, and you can’t seem to grab ahold of a single one.
Lando lays on his back, shutting the TV off and placing the remote on the nightstand. You heard his quick breath as he moved closer to you, scooping you up and pulling you into his chest.
The warmth of his chest soothed you to sleep. Lando listened to your breathing, waiting for it to slow down and the exact moment when you’d fall to slumber.
His own mind was going haywire. There was so much he just said, still dodging the direct confession, and he cursed himself for it. He could have just told you instead of bringing up the worst night you two had ever experienced. Idiot.
Your face nuzzled further into his skin and he felt your arms snake around his torso, taking ahold of the beating drum in the middle of his chest. He was sure you could hear the rapid heartbeat shaking him, and you could.
The warmth and sound of his heartbeat lulled you to sleep faster than any other sound. When Lando was sure you had fallen asleep, he softly played with your hair. It’ll be a while before he can say this to you when you’re awake, and you won’t hear it now, but he says it anyway.
“I love you.”
It takes a moment for you to recollect yourself, the act of falling asleep that you’ve perfected since childhood finally coming to play. You bit back a small grin, ignoring the pitter patter in your own chest.
Lando felt uneasy when you shifted your position, lying on your stomach and partially on him, lips so close to his neck.
You placed a gentle kiss on his collarbone, eyes closed and breath steady.
“I love you, too.”
© landopoet
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1980shorrorfilm · 4 months ago
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every road i know
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click here. resources for palestine, congo, sudan, and other countries.
pairing…ellie williams x gn!reader
in which…ellie thought it was time to solidify your relationship. she might have been wrong.
before you read…inspired by the strangers, minus the killing n stuff. modern day fic. angst with comfort <3
the autumn night is silent, besides the occasional creak of the old miller’s cabin settling into its nighttime routine. you listen to the wind whistling outside, through the tall pines surrounding the small wooden home. 
it’s a lonely town, the nearest house a few miles down the road, something vastly different from your shared apartment in the city. 
ellie started bringing you here after joel had let it collect endless dust and cobwebs, the woman cleaning it all up for you. whenever life got too busy, chaotic, or hard, this way your getaway. peace. just you and her and the nature that surrounded you.
now, it feels as though it’s purgatory. 
the fireplace flickers softly, its glow dancing on the wooden walls, but the warmth couldn’t seem to comfort you. not right now. ellie sits in front of the flames, her silhouette outlined by the orange gentle light.
she has yet to utter a single word to you. the car ride here was silent. even the radio on mute, because ellie couldn’t find the simple strength to turn it up.
the moment is replaying in her mind, over and over, the sad smile you had given her burned into her memory. the thing she’s had anxiety about for the past month. proposing, to you.
the dark velvet box holding the special ring, now lying on the coffee table beside her. a stark reminder of the event.
you’re sat on the couch, chewing your lip, a rose petal in your hand. it’s soft, you find yourself stroking the smooth flower. they cover, nearly, the whole cabin. ellie had thrown the petals around before you had arrived together, trying to make it appear as romantic as possible. 
it’s not her strong suit, her appreciation toward you shown in much different ways than typical lovey-dovey things you see on television, but tonight it felt right. long candles garnish whatever surface she could put them on, yellow and smelling like vanilla. they’re not lit. 
she assumed she’d spark them when you came back from the long day you had. one that started with your favorite breakfast, ellie waking up extra early to make it as perfect as she could. and she did, you made sure to compliment her repeatedly.
then she took you downtown, viewing places you rarely visited, spending more time admiring you than the other pretty views. what occupied most of your time, was going to a museum she took you to on your first date, reminiscing on how awkward you two were compared to now.
she swears that’s her favorite place, and not just because she’s a nerd, because she now associates it with you. 
ellie had took you out to dinner, to your favorite restaurant, hardly eating and claiming she just wasn’t hungry. that was a lie, she just didn’t think she could keep food down. her nerves were washing over her, multiplying when you had finished, and you took a walk near the river, beneath the red trees that blew softly above you.
you had felt her pause in place, holding her warm hand, and you thought maybe the tie had come undone on her sneakers. she had washed them the day prior until her fingers pruned, you found it odd for ellie but didn’t say anything. but that wasn’t the problem. she stared at you like she saw a ghost, and it worried you.
you almost thought this was the end, she was about to tell you those four dreaded words. we need to break up. oh, the idea terrorizes you. that, however, also wasn’t it.
she had whispered inaudible words to herself, then mumbling ‘okay, okay, okay.’
you thought the woman was breaking before you, concern in your eyes, holding her hand tight. then she gulped, trying to get out the rehearsed words that seemed to vanish the longer she stood in your presence. 
how much you mean to her. from the very moment you two got paired up for a project that she insisted she’d do all the work for, but you fought back, finding yourself in her bedroom the entire week, the girl studying you more than the work laid out before her.
she found herself by your side all the time afterward.
she needed to be by your side. 
she doesn’t know how she lived before you, and if she could live without you— no, insisting she could not live with you. she simply wouldn’t have the will. waking up to a bed you didn’t occupy, not hearing your genuine laughter to her most idiotic jokes, not being able to hold you when you experienced the hardest day of your life.
she couldn’t have that. she needs this…you and her, to last forever. so, she asked those four words that you weren’t prepared for. will you marry me?
to which, you didn’t say yes.
you couldn’t. you love ellie, more than you could ever put into words, you swear on your life that you do, and it didn’t at all reflect your feelings for her. you were just…paralyzed. by fear, uncertainty, and the weight of expectations that you couldn’t hold up to for her. every single insecurity, hitting you at once, in the worst moment it possibly could.
you had said her name in a weak whisper, and ellie gulped, realizing what was happening. a tear slipped from your eye, that she quickly wiped away, reassuring you it was okay. that you’re okay. putting you before her, a habit of hers. bits of her broken heart being blown away in the cool wind that hits you, while she cradles yours. 
you walked to the car together in silence, a suffocating fog. a silence that seemed to last forever.
the tension between you two is almost palpable, both of your minds are currently a whirlwind of heavy emotions. a gentle crackle of the fire and ellie shifting in place, makes you finally turn your attention to her. “ellie,” you say her name softly, voice strained as you finally break the unbearable quiet. “can we talk?”
her gaze remains on the fiery flames, her shoulders tense. “we don’t have to,” she replies quietly, “i get it.”
“i don’t think you do,” you lowly say, heart aching at the mere thought of all the negativity running through her precious head, doubts about herself and your relationship. that’s the last thing you could ever want.
ellie swallows thickly, “it doesn’t matter.”
you watch her get up, turning her back to you as she leaves the room. your eyes trail her to the kitchen before you follow her. she doesn’t glance at you as you lean against the nearby counter, watching her grab an expensive champagne bottle. 
you assume she bought it just for tonight, she wouldn’t drink it any other time. she won’t even touch a glass of wine. she pops it open, pouring it into one of the two glasses beside it. “i don’t…” you begin to say as she hovers over the other glass, ellie nodding in response. you’re afraid if you drink it you’ll throw up all the nerves inside your system. 
“i got your favorite ice cream…if you want that instead,” ellie mentions, tapping her finger on the glass, “went to like…3 different stores. couldn’t find the brand you like.”
she ends the sentence with an attempt at a laugh, finding it so silly now. all the effort, for what? humiliation? pity? she sips on the disgusting drink like it would make her feel better. the only other thing that helps her in trying times, is you; and that’s not exactly possible in this scenario.
“do you…” she pauses, staring at the liquid as she swirls it around, “do you want this…us?”
“of course i do,” you answer her without hesitation, taking a step closer to her, but still out of reach. “it’s not that, ellie,” you tell her, trying to figure out how to inform her it’s you and not her, without sounding like a poor cliche overused excuse. 
“it’s just…we’re young…im scared you’re making a mistake,” your voice wavers near the end, ashamed to admit such a thing, that you are her mistake. ellie looks at you like you just spit in her face. she doesn’t know how to interpret the comment, she slightly feels insulted that you would think that she’s making a ‘mistake.’ 
this isn’t putting a shirt on inside out. this isn’t forgetting to turn the light off when you leave a room. it’s not tripping over your step. it’s her committing herself to you, after five beautiful years attached to you, something she wants hundreds more years of, if that were possible. nothing about that is a mistake.
you’re the love of her life. cementing that is not a fucking mistake. 
“is that how you feel?” she flips the script, putting the spotlight on you, feeling like you’re burning beneath it at the accusation. “what?” you whisper, “n-no…no ellie.”
you can’t read her expression, she’s swallowing the rest of her drink, blankly staring ahead. 
she ignores your response, “i’ll drive us home in the morning. you should get some sleep.”
she turns away, placing her glass carefully in the sink, resting there for a moment. your eyes are boring into the back of her head as if you could read the thoughts inside it. so many bad thoughts. 
you push yourself forward, taking a few quiet steps to her. you plant your feet behind her, wrapping your arms around her body. her breathing is slow, her figure painfully stiff, hugging a tree and not your person. so solid despite the endless embraces where she would melt into you.
you murmur her name, holding her tighter. 
ellie can’t resist you.
her hands reach for yours, resting against the center of her torso. her fingers brush against you softly, her breath hitching slightly, before letting out a sigh she’s held in for hours. 
just for this moment, the tension settles beneath the old floorboards of the cabin, giving you air to breathe instead of holding in. your hug is so tender, ellie could be lured to sleep by it. and her body is so warm, you’d rather die than pull away.
you wish it could last forever, and the hours prior could be forgotten. 
then her phone rings from her back pocket, vibrating against you, and she shifts. you let go, biting your lip, watching her fish the device out. joel. assumingly calling to congratulate her. ellie wishes she never told him, because fuck, this is going to be awkward. 
“i uh…should take this,” she whispers, not sparing you a glance when she walks away. you hear the front door open, then shut. you can’t help but walk back into the living room, standing before the window and peeking at ellie, who sat on the porch steps. 
you can’t see her face, her head down, a glow from a cigarette, and grey smoke surrounding her figure. it’s clearly not a happy conversation, there was no sugarcoating what had happened. it pains you. 
you turn back around, following the rose petals that scattered the floor, all the way down the hall, and stopping at the bathroom. you open the door, turning the light on, eyes falling on the several small candles on the edges of the bathtub. red, grey, and purple, they decorated the space. 
ellie really tried to make tonight special.
you stand idly, taking a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, staring at yourself with shame. a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, knowing it did something so drastic, that the only person they love, finds it hard to look at them. 
you quickly turn away. 
you run the bath and wait, tugging your top and pants off, kicking them to the side. you strip naked when it fills up completely, steam radiating from the water. you step in, adjusting to the high temperature, before sinking into it. it almost burns you, but not in a way that you mind. you just don’t care right now. 
ellie is the only thing on your mind. you wonder if she’s talking about you, openly questioning where your relationship lies, if she thinks it’s even going to last after today. 
before you know it, a single tear is falling down your face.
you hug your knees, turning your head and laying your cheek against them. you stare out the open bathroom door, to the wood paneled wall, a framed photo of a deer hung on it.
you forget to blink, spacing out, not noticing the creaking of the front door or the floor. not until ellie is within your view, pausing in the doorway, looking down at you. you’re crying to yourself.
her expression softens, not saying anything when she joins you, kneeling beside the bathtub and touching your face. her thumbs wipe the salty tears from beneath your eyes, but they don’t stop. 
“i’m scared, ellie,” you say just above a whisper, ellie only hears you because of how quiet the cabin is. besides the repetitive dripping from the sink. “i’m gonna fail you…” you continue, your voice now giving up on you, “scared’m gonna ruin this…ruin us…you’re so good, ellie— i just —i couldn’t say yes.”
you choke into a sob, her green eyes now glistening with unshed tears. “oh baby,” she says so softly, giving you the time to process your emotions, to let the tears fall while she holds you. 
“i can’t…” she stops, gulping and sighing, “i can’t change what you think…but i can promise you that nothing could ever change my mind about you.”
her grip on you is firm, reaffirming, as she continues to speak, “we can wait…i’m willing to wait forever for you. i will show you no matter what happens, i will still love you— i will always love you. i just needed…need you to know that.”
very faintly, your lips twitch upwards slightly, ellie mirroring you the moment she notices. “you’re enough for me,” she says, “just you. that’s all i want.”
ellie is, unfortunately, right; it doesn’t change the tainted mindset you have. that, however, has nothing to do with her. you don’t doubt the things she tells you, you’ve never felt more love from someone in your whole life, and you know for a fact that you never will.
and that’s why it brings you relief, to listen to her, understanding her point of view rather than your own, and the cruel demon on your shoulder whispering harsh words into your ear. 
ellie williams is the angel. 
it’s not the first time she’s eased the anxiety taunting you, and it will not be the last. she will always be there, rain or shine, you pushing her away or letting her in. she truly means what she says. you’re enough for her. and soon, you will accept that for yourself.
“i really want to hug you right now.”
ellie chuckles, a lightness in the air as she gets up, grabbing a beige towel. you stand, letting her wrap it around you, shivering at the coolness in the air. not caring about the water droplets still coating your body, ellie’s arms are quickly around you, her palm on the back of your head, cradling it gently.
you instantly feel warm again, at peace.
after the moment of serenity ends, ellie is leading you to the bedroom. she grabs your pajamas from your still-packed bag, letting you put them on while she does the same. your eyes fall on her pale back, watching her throw a white tee on, looking away when she turns her head at you. 
“was thinking about leaving at 8…wanna beat the traffic,” she says, hoping the statement doesn’t go back to making things awkward. just in case, she adds, “can stop at that pancake place you love.”
you can’t ignore the glum undertones of the suggestion, but you still give her a smile, barely modding your head.
you sit in bed, ellie exiting the room to turn off every light in the lonely cabin, leaving you with your thoughts. you hate it. thinking about how happy the two of you were coming here, compared to you leaving. you don’t even want to leave. you want to shut out the rest of the world, but more importantly, your mind.
how differently things would be right now, if you could just do that.
your eyes meet hers when she enters the room again, and you debate what you’re about to ask her. you can’t help it. “can i see it?”
“hm?” “the ring.”
ellie looks at you, freezing for a moment, stuttering, “y-yea…sure.”
again, she exits the room, grabbing the velvet small box on the table, the one she avoided even sparing a glance at just a minute ago. then she jogs back, scratching the back of her neck. she’s nervous as she approaches you, placing it in your open hands, like it’s a baby. 
it’s the first time you’re getting a decent look at it, having been unable to observe it during the moment, and it’s beautiful. it’s simple, yet the green sapphire is so elegant, resembling the way ellie’s eyes look beneath the sun. you smile at it. 
“i…can’t return it…if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“i’m not,” you tell her, “it’s gorgeous, ellie.”
you don’t want to give it back to her. it feels…so right, in your possession, that you can’t help but nervously slide it down your finger. there’s a bittersweet smile on your face at how perfect it is. how when you look at it, ellie is the first thing to come to your mind. 
your lover, for eternity. your lover that swears to you, that your need for her is as mutual as her need for you, no matter the circumstances, it is permanent. that your worries are just that. worries— self-doubt, and bitter thoughts about yourself, that are only present in the moment. they won't last forever. not like you and her.
with hesitance, you take it off, avoiding her gaze when you give it back to her. “i’ll be ready,” you promise, your finger oddly feeling so lonely despite only wearing it for a minute. “i will…i will be,” you find yourself mumbling, ellie getting closer and grabbing your hands.
“hey, i meant what i said,” her thumbs stroke your skin, reminding you once more, “i can wait forever for you.”
and she means it.
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tomriddleslove · 1 year ago
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I’m here.
✩Mattheo Riddle x Reader
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Summary: The one where Mattheo is spiralling and he needs a way out. He doesn’t expect to find it right in front of him. Alternatively: He doesn’t realise he is loved, by you.
A/N: Riddles 🤝 Internal Monologues. I’ve postponed a smut to write this because my heart belongs to angst. REQUESTS ARE OPEN 😻
Warning: Mentions of Abuse, Child abuse, Substance Abuse, Unhealthy Family environments, Depression. This is quite a heavy read.
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Mattheo liked to think of himself as an independent person. It wasn't of his own volition, of course. He didn't exactly have the most supportive home environment. From the day he turned up to Hogwarts after the summer holidays, with scuff marks on his shoes, ragged clothing, hunger gnawing at his insides like a ravenous beast and a bruise spattering the left side of his face, he learnt that the world would not show mercy on him. No, Mattheo had to do it on his own.
He did indeed feel grateful for his friends, who didn't need to utter a word in their support. It wasn't hums of sympathy or pitying looks. It was them brushing off his back when he fell, it was saving the work for him when he had rough evenings, it was pouring him a coffee when he sat down for breakfast without saying a word. Their friendship was not reflected in their words, no, for words were futile. It was in their actions. And Mattheo would be eternally grateful for them.
But even then, it was he who was surrounded by so many, who felt the most alone.
He couldn't ever speak of his issues, he didn't think he ever could. His friends loved him, but not in the way unconditional love came. It need not be romantic, no, Mattheo was not a fool. He didn't care for that when he could barely get himself together. But his deepest secret was not his family's past, nor was it the hidden bruises under his uniform.
Rather, it was that Mattheo simply, had the most terrible, incredibly human need, for love.
For the sort of love that would let you look at the most broken down, raw parts of a person, and still speak of them with reverence.
It tears at your skin. It digs its claws into your feeble skin, and it pulls, It tugs, and it screams. It bares its teeth, it etches its name into your soul. It feeds on you, it consumes you, it hurts you. It bleeds in front of you.
It bleeds, yet it does not cower under the weight of its own vulnerability, because it knows you love it. You lean down, and you cradle it as though it was the most delicate thing on earth. It shrieks in your arms, it continues clawing at you.
You hold it. You are not afraid.
It bleeds, and it makes you bleed with it.
It’s ok.
You'll clean it. You are not afraid.
It was, in its purest form, an ugly thing. Ugly, yet so undeniably beautiful. His heart could only ache, and clench at the thought of such an unconditional love. The idea that someone could see him for him, see Mattheo for Mattheo and not for his father, or for his friends, or for his loud, raucous persona that he put on, or his unhealthy habits.
But how could someone see Mattheo for himself, when he himself didn't know who he was?
He wondered what the rest of his life held for him, often. Sprawled out on his bed, a near-empty bottle of Odgens’ fire whiskey loosely clutched in his hands. His hands are cold; they never warmed.
He always had this feeling in his throat. A sort of suffocating weight, a pain that restricted him. It made it hard to swallow, and even harder to speak.
People would think he'd be out partying. Maybe getting with a girl. With his friends.
It's not that he didn't do that. He did. But it got to a point where the face of one girl blurred into another, he couldn't tell his mornings from evenings. Floating on a high that would sink into an undistinguishable low, one and the same.
He never slept. Whilst they didn't outwardly question it, his friends would jibe and jeer at him, assuming the bags under his eyes were due to his late-night rendezvous with another girl.
Would they look at him differently if they knew it came from nightmares?
He couldn't sleep, because every time he closes his eyes the depths of his mind torment him with images from his past.
His father’s hand comes down, cruel and unforgiving. The bruises mar his skin, but it became the norm. The purples and greens became akin to home more than anything else he had.
In his dreams, his legs do not reach as far as they do now. His calloused hands are smooth once more, and his eyes are wide and honest.
He is young once more, and it does not bring him ease.
He seeks out his mother, he yearns for comfort. She does not give it to him. He is met with the harsh sound of a slap resounding, and his cheek starts hurting. He's confused, and then-
Oh.
Right.
His eyes close, and they open again. He is now looking in the mirror, and he is back to the way he is now. He is standing there, and he cannot tell why he is. He looks the same, yet somehow unrecognisable. Mattheo knows himself well, but right now he feels as though there is a stranger in front of him. That can't be him, he thinks, but he has the same faded scar on his right eyebrow, and his jaw is clenched in the same way. His nose is slightly crooked from when he tried to mend his broken nose at the age of 8.
He meets his eyes in the mirror, and they stare back at him. There isn't that familiar gleam of exhaustion. There isn’t sadness, yet he isn't relieved to see it. He looks in the mirror, and he sees himself. He sees his father reflected in him.
He is watching, and a child approaches him. He is young, as Mattheo was. He barely manages to walk over without stumbling. He looks up at Mattheo - the one in the mirror. Mattheo looks down, but he does not see the kid next to him. He stares back at Mattheo in the mirror, and his reflection is looking down at the child. His stomach starts to hurt. His insides churn, and the reflection raises a hand. The child looks up at him, the same way Mattheo looked up at his mother. The hand comes down, and the harsh sound of a slap resounds throughout the room. The child cries. Mattheo's cheek hurts.
He wakes.
Gasping, sweat clinging to his forehead. His body is freezing, and his mind is reeling. His heart is pounding frantically, and he throws the blanket off him, rubbing a hand over his face as he groans.
He couldn't sleep, He was terrified of trying to do so. His eyes flicker over to the clock on his wall.
2:00 am.
Every time he shuts his eyes, he sees the child looking up at his reflection in the mirror. He sees his reflection raising its hand. In the silence, he hears the sound of the slap, he hears the cries of the child. It mingles with his own, he cannot not tell whose is whose.
He gets up, slipping his hoodie on. His movements are groggy because even if his mind couldn't sleep, his body still needed it.
Then again, one more night of resorting to drinking himself to sleep and he wouldn't be sure if he would wake again. His feet lead him to your room before his mind registers it. He doesn't know why he's standing outside your door, but you were his friend. Perhaps, a closer friend than the rest of them. He knew you'd be up, and he needed to not be alone right now.
Mattheo was a very independent person most of the time, but now was not one of those times.
That terrible, incredibly human need comes back again.
His hand rests on the doorknob, the cool metal still warmer than his own skin. He hesitates, but he pushes the door open.
Your door was always open for him.
As he expected, you were awake. Stretched out on your bed, propped up on a few cushions as you read a book. Your eyes flicker up as you look over at Mattheo, the confusion on your face very quickly fading as you see the state he's in.
You do not say anything, and he is grateful. You put your book to the side. You do not slide over to the side and offer Mattheo a spot next to you like you always do. You instead, continue looking over at him. Instead, you open your arms. You do not say anything, and you beckon him over.
He does not move immediately. He gazes at you for a second and once again, his feet move, and he gravitates towards you before his mind can even compute what he’s doing. The mattress squeaks slightly under your combined weight, as he comes over. He lowers down onto you, his head resting on your chest as he wraps his arms around your midsection. You cradle him as though he was the most delicate thing on earth. His cold skin meets yours, and its intransigence wavers.
He warms, and it is the most beautiful feeling.
He clings to you, as though trying to merge his existence with yours, afraid you'll slip away.
You hold him.
“I'm here,” You whisper.
It doesn't take long after that.
His head is hidden in your chest. Your fingers card through his brown curls.
You hold him.
He weeps.
You hold him.
You do not let go. He cries, and he cries till his throat is dry, and your shirt is soaked. He cries, and not once does your hold on him waver.
You are not disgusted by him. You do not look at him differently. It is amidst those tears that he comes to the realisation that he did not have to search very far. He is not just seeking comfort; he's holding onto the love and acceptance he's always craved. The raw, unfiltered emotion takes him by surprise, and he lets it wash over him. He did not cower under his own vulnerability any more, no, for his vulnerability is both liberating and overwhelming.
His sobs gradually subside, and your hold only loosens slightly when his body no longer shakes with the weight of his emotions. The feeling in his throat is gone.
He doesn't look up at you, but it's okay. You still look at him the same way. Your lips press a tender kiss against his messy hair lightly. His arms wrap around you tighter. You both remain silent. You don’t need to speak the words, because Mattheo knows.
Everything would be okay, if only for tonight.
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jenanigans1207 · 7 months ago
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“I don’t regret it, Dean.” Cas says quietly. “Telling you I love you was the best moment of my life.”
“Yeah? Well, it was the worst of mine!” Dean yells, throwing his arms out to the side. There’s a moment of stricken silence where Cas’s face falls and Dean realizes how his words came across. He rushes to elaborate. “Do you know how many years I wondered if angels could feel love? Romantic love? Do you know how long I hoped that they could— that you, specifically, could? And more than that, that you would feel it towards me? I wondered all the goddamn time, Cas. And then you— you finally—“ Dean swallows past a lump in his throat, letting his arms fall back to his sides. “You finally tell me not only that you can love, but you love me. Me. And in one second, ten years of my wildest dreams came true and then were ripped away.”
Dean looks down at his feet. Clenches his jaw against the feelings threatening to choke him. He tries to take a steadying breath in through his nose but it doesn’t help him feel any better.
“Dean—“
“I didn’t think I was ever gonna see you again.” Dean confesses to his boots. “I thought I’d have to live the rest of my miserable life knowing I could’ve had you and kicking myself for being such a dumb piece of shit.” He swallows again and looks up. “I thought you were going to spend eternity not knowing that I love you, too.”
“I didn’t mean— Dean, I didn’t—“ Cas shakes his head as words fail him.
“So yeah,” Dean shrugs a little helplessly, his voice still tight with emotion. “It was the worst moment of my life. Except for every moment that came after— because every single moment from your death until you came back was the worst moment of my life. Every moment without you is. And you coming back could’ve been the best moment of my life if you hadn’t been such an ass about everything.”
There was a time, once, in the distant past where Cas’s face never betrayed any emotion. Dean could’ve scrutinized every single molecule of his expression and he wouldn’t have been able to read a goddamn thing from it. That hasn’t been the case for a long time— Cas took to emotions and humanity better than Dean did, and it was the only thing Dean had ever known.
Now, Dean can read a multitude of emotions in Cas’s expression: disbelief in the slight part of his lips, hope in the blue of his eyes, shock in the rise of his eyebrows. He can practically read every thought going through Cas’s mind as he tries to process what’s happened.
And then, there it is: acceptance in the way the corner of Cas’s mouth ticks up.
“I had no idea.” Cas answers after a moment.
“‘Course you didn’t.” Dean replies, his own mouth mirroring the small smile. “You fucked off before I got a chance to say it back.”
“I just assumed—“
“You know what they say about assuming, Cas.”
“No, I don’t.” Cas is full on smiling now, warm and full of the love Dean had only ever seen hidden in shadows of his expressions. Now it’s practically splitting his face open, spilling out of Cas like he’s finally filled up with so much of it that it’s simply impossible to keep it all in. “And frankly, I don’t care. I only care about what you have to say.”
Dean huffs out a fond laugh as he shakes his head. “Finally gonna let me do the talking, huh?”
“I’m in the mood to do some listening,” Cas’s grin is dazzling and a little cheeky, Dean wants to memorize it immediately.
He takes a step closer to Cas. And then another. Cas simply watches him approach, making no attempt to back away. His personal space is inviting and Dean enjoys stepping directly into it with no hesitation.
“Well, I might be in the mood for something other than talking.” Dean whispers, less than a foot from Cas now.
“Oh?” Cas prompts, his hand reaching across the minuscule place between them to settle on Dean’s hip.
“Yeah,” Dean murmurs, leaning in. “But just to make sure you get it through your stubborn head: I love you, Cas. And I’ll fucking kill you if you ever do something like that again.”
Dean kisses him before Cas has a chance to reply.
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radioisntdead · 10 months ago
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Hey! I really liked your headcanon about Alastor. It’s got my imagination running wild >_< What do you think about a romantic! Oneshot with Alastor where everyone can see the results of the biting game on both us and Alastor (assuming we both break skin and leave marks). I’m not sure how Alastor would be caught without his coat on, much less with with short sleeves… maybe a spilled drink on a hot day. But I keep imagining this scenario:
Angel: Asks Alastor if he had a rough night after seeing his arms covered in bites (assuming rough sexy time)
Alastor: Responds yes (remembering how he got cornered and couldn’t get away because using his shadows to escape is against the rules of the game)
Angel: :O
Good evening my dear! Thank you so much for requesting this I had so much fun writing it and I'm so glad you liked my Alastor biting headcanons!
And because I positively adore and I am mildly obsessed with deers I think that's why I like Alastor so much? The reader has deer attributes like Alastor Specifically whitetail deers because apparently they can jump eight feet in the air! And the reader jumps a bunch, reader is refered to as Prancer by Angel, I'm not gonna lie I had no idea how to end it so the ending is rushed! and everything is a tad bit messy, my apologies, Full italics is a mini flashback
Warnings!!
Biting, the drawing out of blood, the reader's blood is a vibrant pink for fun! Angel dust alluding to sexual acts, Still getting used to writing Alastor so once again leaning into fanon and possibly some OOC behaviors.
not proofread because I don't have a beta reader, Enjoy!
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The two of you hadn't meant to get so carried away, it started out peacefully enough, you and Alastor were just laying on couch he had in his radio tower, it was later in the night, you suppose it was just past midnight,
He was looking over papers with whatever radio nonsense on them for tomorrow's broadcast, and you were peacefully reading a book with your head on his shoulder, with soft jazz playing in the background, your jackets were hung neatly on the coat rack, a warm cup of coffee and a nice soothing [Drink of your choice] sat on the desk.
It was treasured peaceful moment, until your beloved strawberry-flavored Bambi decided to ruin it by picking up your arm and biting into it like it was beef jerky and looking like someone had shot him with a tranquilizer dart,
You sat up quickly, your arm still in his grasp, eyes narrowed at him as he pulled away from your arm, licking away the escaping blood like the little cannibalistic freak he is
"Alastor, My darling dear, why are you like this?"
You ask with an exasperated tone as your dearly beloved just kept a smug grin on his face and patted the sides of his mouth with a handkerchief he had gotten from hell knows where,
Sitting up, you blink slowly before immediately pouncing at the Radio demon, your own sharp teeth bared and ready to bite only for your beloved deer to move out of the way and quickly moving behind you as you fall face first into where Alastor once sat,
"Ah, you have to be quicker then that my dear!"
He said with a laugh before turning around to grab his coat, clearly not expecting you to stand up on his couch like a uncivilized heathen and jump on him managing to knock him off his feet? Hooves? Whatever he has and sink your teeth into his exposed neck.
And so the game begun with the both of you biting each other.
Unfortunately this little game of yours comes with consequences and what are those consequences?
Well for starters Alastor's coat was now stained with noticable pink blood [From you of course who else!]
Bite marks littered his arms from your chompin' down, not to mention you had bitten his neck! scandalous behavior!
You weren't much better with bite marks though not only on both of your arms but shoulders, and hands, hell he almost bit your face and he would've if you didn't headbutt him!
You had grabbed his coat along with a few other articles of blood covered clothing you gently folded and placed them in a bag to take over to the drycleaners, honestly you could probably get the blood stains out with cold water but neither you nor Alastor had time for that and while you adored Niffty you did NOT trust her with washing some of the articles of clothing that you had, so the drycleaners it was!
Alastor was up in his radio tower doing a broadcast while Everyone else was scattered through the hotel, notably Angel dust and Husk were chatting about something at the bar as you walked by it you gave them a quick wave.
"Good afternoon you two! I'm heading to the drycleaners if anyone asks."
You said as you quickly made your way past the duo, making a swift plot convenient exit.
Angel dust raised an eyebrow as he briefly caught the sight of teeth marks on your wrist from the exposed hem of your sweater.
"Eh, didn't think they had it in em' to do anything beyond handholding"
"They don't, Probably they probably bit by that fucked up creature of theirs."
Husk said sliding a glass over to Angel who shrugged before downing whatever liquid was in the glass.
Alastor had entered the bar area, after a couple of minutes later, wearing a red button up and vest, the same colors as his normal attire, he had rolled up his sleeves during the broadcast and unfortunately forgot to unroll them to cover the bite marks on his arms,
He missed his usual attire but unfortunately it was gone with you for the foreseeable future.
"Oo, Rough night freaky face?''
Angel dust joked wiggling his eyebrows as he swirled whatever alcoholic drink Husk had provided him while Husk shook his head while wiping a glass.
"Yes, I suppose you could say that."
Alastor said his smile tightening as he recalled you cornering him in the Bayou in your shared room, Alastor wasn't the type to run away typically, even less the type to give up easily even to his beloved spouse,
unfortunately for him though,
The little game of yours had some rules, such as no leaving any marks on facial areas, No tearing off any chunks of flesh {Gonna love having a spouse with cannibalistic tendencies}, and No using any type of power the two of you had, which means good ol' Alastor couldn't use his funky lil' shadows
And that made him more vulnerable to his deranged spouse's tackling strategy.
"Alastor get out of the tree,"
"No."
You had no idea how you ended up chasing your spouse into a tree, you don't know how he even got INTO the tree, but he sat upon it kicking his legs back and forth like a gleeful child, staring down at you, for someone who's a deer he's oddly cat like,
You sighed turning around and walking away as your beloved laughed in taunting tone
"Running off so soon dearest? And here I thought you- aCK"
Alastor was cut off by you running back, hurling yourself off the ground and tackling him like a feral flying squirrel onto the ground.
Blinking away at the memory Alastor returned his focus to Angel dust's gobsmacked expression that turned into a grin as he laughed while Husk moved further into the bar shaking his head.
"I was jokin' around, but sounds like you and prancer actually got freaky!''
"Pardon me, we w̸̧̢͉̦̟̭̪͕̉͘ḩ̷̛̛̤̬͖̿͆̈́͘â̸͔͔̣̊̿ẗ̴̖̦̆̔͛̿̎̾̆̚͠?"
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Thank you for tuning in folks! My apologies for the messy one shot, but I have a Vox x reader that's almost done that's more put together, and a more put together Alastor fic, Anyways I hope you all have a wonderful day!
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flowerxbunnie · 11 months ago
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hiiii i really love ur smuts and i have a suggestion that i’d DIEE if you’d consider.
Okay so it’s a matt one and y/n and matt are in a relationship like IN LOVEEE. and they have seggs for the first time and he’s really sweet and romantic. like dominant but in a sweet way. no degrading just comforting and sweet. also mention how BIG he is and how she’s like strugglinggg but he’s so sweet to herrr. TYSM LUV YA💋💋
Unexplored
Matt x Fem Reader
Warnings: SMUT. virgin!reader, experienced matt, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (assume you’re on the pill)
DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH SMUT OR ARE A MINOR!
6.1k words
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The car door closes gently behind you, a warm palm caressing the small of your back as you walk towards Matt’s apartment. He guides you up the steps and to the front door, grabbing his keys off of his carabiner to fiddle with the lock. He gets the door open and extends his arm out, letting you enter first just like he always does.
The smell of sandalwood floods your nose, a scent you’ve associated with the warmth of his space. Every Saturday he takes you on a different date he meticulously plans before both of you come back to his apartment, doing puzzles or watching movies or rotting your brains on TikTok together for hours.
You take your heels off and place them on the shoe rack next to the door, giggling as you shrink about four inches in height next to Matt.
“What’s wrong, short stack?” He chuckles as he teases you, his hands gripping onto your waist and pulling you close.
“Not a thing.” You look up at him as he peers down at you, his brunette hair falling over his forehead messily. You reach up and gently brush the strands back out of his face, watching as his eyes flutter shut before locking onto yours again.
“You’re beautiful, have I told you that before?” He asks in a hushed tone.
“A couple times, I think.” You reply with flushed cheeks, throwing your arms lazily around his neck.
His grip on your waist tightens as he lets his eyes drift their gaze down to your lips. They wander down your neck, collarbones, down your chest, and all the way to the floor before traveling back up. He can’t help but drink in the sight of you. You interlock your fingers around him as you stand up on your tiptoes.
You place a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, his prickly stubble brushing against your lips. You move to the other side, placing another small kiss to the other corner, but this time he turns his head, his soft lips meeting your own. You kiss slowly, your lips melting together. You can taste the chocolate ice cream on his lips, something you always stop for after your dates.
Matt opens his mouth, allowing you to deepen the kiss and explore it with your tongue. You can feel your heart beating hard in your chest, and you hope more than anything that he can feel it too. You want him to know just how crazy you are about him. How much your body craves his touch.
Your stomach starts to tighten into knots just thinking about it. Matt has been incredibly patient with you your entire relationship. It’s been three months, but you haven’t allowed yourself to give in just yet. He’s never made you feel like a burden or like you have to do anything, he’s never once pressured you or tried to talk you into anything. You’ve never been able to get past this hurdle with anyone, as much as you’ve wanted to. You’ve let your own fears hold you back. But this time is different. You’re ready for more, ready to give yourself to him. You don’t know what exactly it is that changed, but your body burns with lust for Matt despite how nervous you may be.
You sink back down onto your heels and Matt leans down with you, refusing to break the kiss. His hands glide down the curves of your waist and move to settle on your ass, giving it a light squeeze. You let out a small whimper into his mouth and hear a sigh escape from his lips. You move your shaking hands to the nape of his neck, tangling your fingers into the curly hair at the base and give them a light tug, pulling him off gently.
“C-can we move this to the bed?” You croak out, the words feeling foreign.
“Yeah, um..” he blinks quickly and clears his throat. “Of course we can.”
His mind races with thoughts that he desperately tries to hold back. He wants nothing more than to make a mess of you, to touch you in the places nobody else has. There’s something about knowing he’ll be the first person to corrupt you that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up and sends a rush of blood below his belt.
You give him a meek smile, trying your best to hide the crimson glow that’s made its way across your face. You grab onto his hand and follow behind him as you walk quietly to his room through the dark hallway. Your heart pulses loudly in your ears with each step you take. You both cross the threshold and his hand immediately reaches for the light switch, but you bring your own free hand over his to stop him.
“Can we leave it off? Maybe.. just turn on a lamp or something?” You ask quietly.
An eager look flashes across his face as he nods, letting go of your hand to go turn his table lamp on, illuminating the room with its subtle glow. He sits on the edge of his bed and you join him, fidgeting with your rings while trying to calm your nerves.
He turns sideways to face you, brushing your hair behind your ear and placing a gentle kiss to your cheekbone. “My pretty girl.” He whispers.
You turn your head towards him and smile as his fingertips caress your face. He looks into your eyes with a questioning look, almost asking without words if you’re sure about what you’re leading him into. You swallow thickly and grip onto the fabric of his shirt, pulling him close before you mesh your lips together again. He tilts his head as he kisses back, your tongues dancing with each other slowly. Your skin grows hot, every fiber of your being consumed with the thought of Matt taking you as his.
You turn your body to face him, your free hand reaching up to grip his jaw, feeling as the muscle clenches and moves as he works his mouth against your own. You feel the warmth of his hands meet your knees, sliding up your thighs and bringing a tantalizing electricity with them. They reach the hem of your dress and toy with it, sliding it up ever so slightly.
He pulls away from the kiss, whispering softly, “Is this okay?”
You nod lightly and he immediately pushes the fabric up your soft legs allowing them to part. He pulls you to straddle his lap, scooting back and positioning the both of you so that his back is against the headboard.
He has to hold back a groan as he looks up at you, your legs slung around both sides of his waist, lighting a primal fire deep inside of him. His jaw hangs slack as he squeezes the plush skin of your thighs, working his way up to your exposed panty line. He hooks his fingers into it and rubs his thumbs against the elastic. You run your nails up and down his arms and his body reacts to your touch, flooding his skin with goosebumps.
“Matt..” You breathe out, biting your lip as he directs his full attention to you. “I want to do this. I need to.”
A hitched breath escapes his lips as he nods eagerly, your doe eyes making his stomach do a flip. “And if you need to stop, I-”
You cut him off there, bringing a finger to his lips. “I know, Matt. I trust you.”
A cheesy grin flashes across his face, his eyes lighting up. It’s soon replaced with an urgency, an overwhelming need. He brushes your hair to your back and slides his fingers beneath the straps of your dress, pulling them down your shoulders slowly. His lips pepper the skin with warm, wet kisses, trailing across your collarbones to give the other shoulder just as much attention.
You lean your head back as your head swims, growing fuzzier by the second. Your mind is saturated with pleasure as his lips inch up your neck, teasing the sensitive skin with featherlight nips and licks. You can’t help but moan as he sucks a mark into the skin right below your ear.
“God, you sound so pretty.” He mumbles against your neck, “I knew you would.”
With every touch you allow him to give to your body he feels his own pulse quicken. His pants feel tighter, his skin suddenly feels hot, and all he wants to do is rip your clothes off. He bites back the temptations of rushing into things too quickly. He wants to make this last, to see every lust drunk look on your face as he shows you a pleasure you’ve never known.
He pulls back slowly and his eyes drift down to focus on what his hands are doing. He slips the neckline of your dress below your breasts and your chest is fully exposed to him, your nipples taut and aching in the chill of the air. His cock twitches at the sight of your plump round skin almost begging to be touched. He grabs ahold of each one with his hands, cupping and squeezing at them. He picks them up and lets them drop a few times, eyes locked as he watches them bounce inches from his face.
A split second later he leans forward and takes your left nipple into his mouth, his warm saliva sending shivers down your spine. You can’t help but to arch your back, this new feeling sending shockwaves through your body. You lace your hands into his hair, holding him against you as he softly sucks on your nipple. He pulls off with a pop and shoots you a smirk, moving to the other side to flick his tongue across it before placing a kiss to it.
“So perfect.” He mutters between kisses as he travels up the valley of your breasts back up to your neck.
You become suddenly aware of the bulge growing in his pants as his hips jolt up, rubbing against your clothed core deliciously. You take in a sharp breath before following suit, grinding your hips slowly along with him and creating a new friction between your bodies. He can’t help but move his hands to your waist, pressing you down and guiding you forward and back against his erection. You both share shaky exhales and moans as you continue like this, your bodies aching to be closer. Your core throbs and builds up an uncomfortable heat just desperate to be filled, and his dick is stiff to the point of discomfort wanting to feel the warmth of your body.
You push yourself from the hold you had on his chest for stability, leaning back to fumble with the buckle of his belt. His hands come to rest atop your own, stopping you in your tracks and shaking his head.
“Not yet baby, I can wait. Wanna make you feel good first.” He whispers with a grin. “Come lay down up here.”
You gulp and do as you’re told, hopping off his lap to replace his spot against the headboard. He grabs your dress and shimmies it down your body, lifting your legs to pull it all the way off and discard it beside the bed. You’re left lying below him, exposed all except your panties. His eyes rake over every inch of your body, and you can’t help but feel self conscious. He takes note as he clocks your facial expression, and his hands immediately start sliding across your skin.
“I can’t believe how perfect you are.” He mumbles with a smile.
“You think so?” You ask, bringing your knees together subconsciously as a way of covering what little bit of dignity you have left.
“Fuck yes I do.” He answers, his hands coming to your knees to spread them back apart.
He lays down and props himself up on his elbows between your thighs, hot air fanning against your skin with every breath he takes. His eyes are dark with hooded lids, piercing into your own as he lowers his head.
He places a soft kiss to the fabric and then kitten licks your clothed pussy, the warmth causing your stomach to tense and your hands to grip onto the sheets. He brings one hand up to rub his fingers across your clit, and even with the layer of cloth separating you from his rough fingertips you feel waves of pleasure flooding through your veins.
He increases the pressure and starts rubbing in a rhythm, eyes locked with yours the entire time. You bite your lip as you move your hips along with him, desperate for more hypnotic friction.
“You let me know what feels good and what doesn’t, okay baby? Wanna make this good for you.” He assures you before he places a few soft kisses to the skin of your inner thighs.
You nod and sink down onto the pillow, allowing yourself to relax and melt into him. He starts slowly pulling your panties down your legs, scooting back a little so he can get them fully off. He lets out a sigh as he parts your thighs once more, spreading your core with his two hands and licking his lips. The primal flame grows, a fever creeping through his veins as he takes in the sight of your pink, dripping heat.
“Look at that,” he places a soft kiss to the mound of skin just above your clit, “so wet already.” He runs his thumb down your folds, collecting your arousal before bringing it to his mouth and sucking it clean. “Tastes so fucking good too.”
He dips his head down and licks a hot stripe up your center, his tongue flat and warm against you. You take in a shaky breath, your back arching off the bed and your thighs squeezing around his head. Matt lets out a deep hum as he holds your legs apart, lapping his tongue across your entrance. The vibration rumbles through your core perfectly, and your body feels so good you can’t help but squeeze at the own skin of your thighs, needing something to channel the overwhelming sensations into.
“M-matt.. it feels so.. oh my god.” You struggle with your words, your brain swimming as he sucks your tender bud lightly.
He feels a deep satisfaction knowing he’s the first to taste you, the first to make you feel so good that you can’t do anything but squirm and grasp at anything you can reach.
“I’m gonna put a finger in, okay baby?” He asks as he lifts up on his elbows. “It might feel weird at first but it shouldn’t hurt. You let me know though, got it?” He says in a serious tone.
You nod and lift your head up to get a better view as he rubs his middle finger up and down your folds, drenching it with your arousal. You see it glistening in the light before he slowly inserts it, his eyes flicking up to your own and back down to his job at hand continuously. The feeling of his slender finger slipping in and brushing against your plush walls makes your core throb, and he doesn’t stop until his knuckle is flush with your folds.
“Alright, it’s all the way in.” He speaks softly.
Slowly and carefully he pulls it all the way back out, a husky groan falling from his lips when he sees that his finger is drenched, covered in your body’s visible need.
“M-matt..” you whine, feeling suddenly empty.
“Hm?” He hums, slowly guiding his finger back into your heat.
Your hips buck involuntarily, the rough pad of his finger brushing a sensitive spot deep inside of you. He smirks and curls his finger into it again, a smug satisfaction creeping up as you clench your stomach and moan lightly.
“You’ve never been able to find that spot yourself, have you baby?” He asks, curling his fingers into the spongy mound over and over.
All you can do is shake your head, hips lifting off the bed as you squirm and pant. He shushes you quietly and brings his free hand to press into the skin of your hip, holding you down into the mattress right where he wants you. He begins pumping his finger in and out, the sensation causing you to whimper and squeeze your eyes shut.
“Shhh, I know. Let me take care of you.” He whispers, his face dipping down and his hot breath fanning over your stomach. “Gonna make you feel so good.”
His lips place a light, lingering kiss to your swollen bud, sending sparks through your abdomen as his finger prods at your walls. He places one more quick kiss to it before he wraps his lips around your clit, using his tongue to swirl around the sensitive flesh. His free hand roams around your body, squeezing at your hips, lightly tracing your ribcage and moving all the way down to knead at the skin of your thigh.
“That’s feels so…” You let out a long drawn out moan as he kitten licks your clit, “oh my god, Matt.”
He hums against you, his ego stroked knowing he’s making you crumble beneath him. He pulls back briefly, his voice strained and deep. “I know, angel. You’re doing so good.”
His praise causes your stomach to roll and a moan threatens to fall into the air, but you hold it back with a harsh bite of your bottom lip.
Matt knows his words have an effect on you. He can feel as the inner workings of your body clench and throb around him when he does something you like, and he needs more.
“Such a good girl,” he coos, looking up at you through his lashes as he adds another finger into your slit, “let’s get you nice and loosened up for me, okay? Let me know if it’s too much.”
You feel his ring finger slip in, stretching your skin and pushing up into your slick heat. He moves them simultaneously, coaxing your sensitive nerves as you writhe around, whimpering and circling your hips.
“O-oh.. Matt..” you breathe out shakily.
His dick twitches when you say his name like that. He brings his mouth back down to your clit, sucking and lapping at it faster than before. His fingers pump in and out in a steady rhythm, working at every angle to bring you closer to the edge.
Your stomach feels so tight it could burst and your brain is foggy, almost drunk off the pleasure. He doesn’t let up, he moans and groans against your core and nearly has his face buried into your pussy. You could almost count each individual strand of stubble as it scratches against your thighs, an addicting pain that you wish you never had to stop feeling.
“M-matt.. I think..” you whine out, lacing your fingers into his curls and tugging, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap.
“Mmm..” he pulls back. “I know, baby. I can tell.”
He dips back down, savoring your taste as he flicks his tongue across your aching clit. You feel the tension in your stomach building as you buck your hips up, but Matt doesn’t push your hip down this time. He follows you up, never letting his tongue leave your pink bud as he works against it.
You finally topple over the edge, your pussy contracting around his fingers tightly as your body floods with dopamine. You hold him against your core as he coaxes your orgasm out, grinding against his mouth and fingers until you’re spent.
He watches as you lie back, your chest heaving with every deep breath you take. A small grin plays at his lips as he watches, knowing it’s the first time a man has made you feel this way. He can’t help but get excited, palming his uncomfortable erection through his jeans while he watches you drink in your post orgasm bliss.
“Was it good?” He croaks, his thumb sweeping over his aching head through the fabric.
“Mmmm,” you hum, eyes shut and your arms sprawled out. Your legs are still open, your glistening pussy directly in his line of sight, still slightly twitching and throbbing, your arousal coating your folds. “So good.” Your voice is laced with pleasure.
He takes in a shaky breath, tightening his veiny hand around his length and bucking his hips into his palm. He can’t help the groan that falls from his lips and causes you to open your eyes, leaning your head up to look at him.
His jaw clenches as he makes eye contact with you, his hips squirming and his hand moving back and forth across his aching cock. “Have you ever sucked a dick before?” His words sound so filthy as they roll of his lustful tongue, but he’s asking out of genuine curiosity.
“I…” you start, a dark pink flush spreading across your already hot cheeks. “No… I haven’t.”
A quiet groan grumbles from his chest, his head falling back as he gives his dick one last squeeze through his pants. He moves his hand up, slowly pulling the end of the belt from his belt loops. “That’s okay, I’ll tell you how.”
You gulp and nod, sitting up to help him with the buckle. Your hand brushes against his hardened dick and it twitches, begging to be freed from the constraint of the layers holding it back. You finally get the belt undone, pulling it from the loops and tossing it aside. Your hands scramble to the button of his jeans, getting it open and the zipper down before pulling them down his thighs. He reaches up and pulls his shirt over his head, his muscles contracting with every move.
He lets out a sigh as you pull his pants completely off, his dick stretching the fabric of his boxers to its limit. There’s a small wet stain where his head lays, his swollen tip oozing precum.
His hand reaches out and grabs yours, sitting it down on top of his still covered length. He presses your hand down and takes in a small gasp of air, jutting his hips up from the sensation. You flutter your eyelashes and look up at him as you wrap your small hand around him, feeling his warmth and thickness.
“Get down on your knees for me, baby.” he whispers, shuffling off the bed to his feet.
You oblige, standing up in front of him and dropping down, your hands resting on his thighs. He strokes your hair lovingly, tucking the loose strands behind your ear and rubbing his thumb across your cheekbone. With his free hand he loops his thumb into the elastic waistband of his underwear and slides it down slowly, inch by inch of his cock becoming more exposed before it slaps against his stomach. He chuckles as your eyes widen, a satisfaction coming through that he can’t hold back.
“M-Matt.. that’s not gonna fit in my mouth.” You say matter of factly, observing the entire length, the curve and the veins that cascade up to his head.
“It’s okay,” he reassures with another stroke of your hair. “You can try. If it doesn’t I’ll show you what to do.”
He grips his base and begins slowly pumping himself, your eyes watching his every move. He brings the head against your lips and rubs it back and forth, coaxing your mouth open. He lets out a small moan as the underside of his tip brushes against your warm tongue, stimulating his sensitive nerves just right. You move your tongue left and right, feeling every dip and groove of his head and coating it in your saliva. You open your mouth wider and wrap your lips around his head, giving a small suck before you pop back off.
“F-fuck..” he groans, moving his hand to grip the roots of your hair on the back of your head. “You’re doing so good already. Open up a little wider, angel.”
You let your jaw fall open, relaxing your tongue and letting it lay flat as he slides his cock deeper into your mouth. You can feel his veins rolling against your tongue as he pushes in slowly, taking his time and being careful to not make you gag. As much as he’d like to make you a drooling mess with his length shoved down your throat, he wants to take care of you and make sure this first time is special.
He stops once he can feel he’s near the back of your throat, and you can feel his muscles tighten as he holds back the urge to thrust. “Now you just suck, move your tongue around, whatever. There’s no real science to it.” He explains gruffly, pulling out just a bit before pushing back into the same spot.
You close your lips around him, sucking and bobbing your head back and forth, his hand gripping tighter on the back of your head. Groans and shaky breaths spill from his lips, his stomach clenching as he bites his tongue, sticking it to the inside of his cheek.
“God baby, so fucking pretty with your lips around my dick.” He coos, wrapping his hand into your hair in a makeshift ponytail.
You feel a little brave, wanting to make him feel better than he is now, and decide to let his head touch the back of your throat. Your throat instinctively clenches, a low gagging sound rumbling through you as your mouth floods with saliva. You look up at him in embarrassment as you pull his member from your lips, a string of spit following as you lean back.
“I’m sorry..” you say meekly, your ears growing hot.
“Hey,” he says in a low, hushed tone, “don’t apologize.” He grips your chin, stroking your bottom lip with his thumb and pulling your mouth back open. He exhales when he slides his length back in. “I think it’s so hot. My pretty girl choking on me. Fuck…” He juts his hips forward, hitting the back of your throat again to elicit the same sound.
His dick twitches at the sound, and your eyes well with tears from the sensation. He pumps himself in and out of your mouth slowly, not going nearly as deep to make sure you don’t have to gag again.
“Wrap your hand around the bottom, yeah.. fuck… just like that.. jerk it a little..” he speaks softly, groaning between his words.
You continue sucking what you can comfortably fit in your mouth, twisting your hand around his base. His breathing picks up and strings of curses fall from his lips.
“Doing so good for me.. fuck. Yeah, like that baby. You look so good sucking me off.”
He continues guiding your head up and down, the sound of his grunts filling up the room as you work him towards his climax. But before he can finish, he pulls your head back by your hair and smiles down at you.
“Get back on the bed.” He says gently with a nod of his head in that direction. He grabs your hands and lifts you to your feet, taking notice of your red knees with a smirk.
You sit down on the bed, your hair fanning out behind you as you lay back onto the pillows. He crawls up your body, placing kisses on your sore knees, up your thighs, up your stomach and through the valley of your breasts until he reaches your puffy lips.
He places a soft peck onto your lips before smashing them together, inhaling deeply as he places his hand softly around your throat. His other arm rests by your head, holding him up so that he hovers above you. Your body starts to almost tremble, both of your most sensitive parts inches away from touching. You reach up and grip his shoulders and he pulls away from the kiss, making direct eye contact.
He opens his mouth to speak. “I just want you to know if you need to stop at any point, let me know. I’d never be upset or disappointed or-”
“Shhh.. I know.” You interrupt him with a giggle, your stomach filled with butterflies already.
He gives you a soft smile and a satisfied hum before he sits back on his knees, his dick twitching as he spreads your thighs and lines himself up at your entrance. Your body feels like it’s burning from the inside out as his skin brushes against yours, every movement making your pulse quicken. He runs his head through your folds, collecting your sticky arousal and coating himself with it before he pushes in.
He lets out a low groan as he feels the resistance of your walls pushing back at him. “You’re so tight.. fuck.” Matt truly doesn’t care if you’re a virgin or not, but the fact that you are, the fact that he’s the first one to taint your innocence drives him crazy to no end.
You let out a small whimper, feeling your entrance stretching around him. It’s not painful, but you can’t exactly say it feels good either. He looks up at you and stops his movements, allowing you some time to adjust to his size.
“All good so far?” He asks, reaching up to squeeze your hip reassuringly.
You only nod, your fingers absentmindedly gripping at the bedsheets. He reaches his hand down and grabs one of yours, bringing it to his lips and placing soft kisses on every knuckle. He pushes in just a bit more, using every ounce of restraint in his body to not shove in to the hilt. His body is flooded with desire, a need to fill you up with his length, to be the first man to feel your plush walls wrapped around him.
“F-fuck..” you whimper quietly, your eyes squeezed shut and your face curled up in discomfort. “It’s so big.. I don’t know if it’ll all fit..” You breathe out as you open your watery eyes to look up at him.
His stomach tightens at your innocent words, he knows it was just an observation but he can’t help but feel so praised and turned on. He lets out a small chuckle and pushes one of your legs up so that your knee rests next to your shoulder.
“It’ll fit, baby. Gotta give it some time.” He whispers, pushing in a little more.
Your walls are slowly loosening up, accommodating to the size of the man above you. The new angle allows him to slip in a little easier so that you’re now taking half of his length.
“Doing so good. Nice and wet for me too.” He coos, reaching his thumb down to brush over your aching clit.
The sensation makes your back arch, your pelvis tilting and ultimately pushing further down onto Matt’s cock, earning a low primal moan from him. With the amount of discipline he’s put himself through tonight, he grips onto your calf, his fingers leaving impressions and his knuckles white.
“T-try not to move.. fuck.. that felt so good.” He croaks, his voice laced with need.
You finally decide you’ve had enough of the waiting, enough time trying to stretch around his thickness. You begin to move your hips, slowly bucking them up and down. His cock slides in and out of your pussy with each hypnotic movement and his eyes widen.
“S-shit..” he breathes, gripping onto the back of your other thigh and pushing it up, leaving you spread completely open.
Your pain dwindles and you start to feel sparks of pleasure. Brisk, rapid moans escape your lips as he moves his hips forward slowly. You almost sound as if you’re in pain, so he stops and starts to ease out of you.
“M-matt.. no, please. Please move.” You beg, reaching up to caress his jaw.
All of his restraint is thrown out the window when he hears you plead so genuinely for him. He slowly pushes his hips all the way forward until his hipbones are flush with the backs of your thighs, your walls swallowing him whole and clenching around him as they accept his length.
“So fucking good. You’re doing perfect.” He praises in a hushed voice, pulling out and pushing all the way back in with ease, his dick coated and wet.
You let out a cry as his tip kisses your g spot and he squeezes your thigh, moving his hips in a rhythm so that he does it over and over again.
“M-Matt..” his name falls off your lips like honey.
“Hm?” He grunts out, his thrusts maintaining a slow rhythm.
“More.. I.. I need more.” You choke out, your body tingling and pulsing with a growing pleasure.
“You sure, baby?” He asks, “you don’t think it’ll be too much?”
“Please.” you spit out a single worded beg, batting your eyes up at him.
He can’t say no to you, the girl he loves yearning for more of him. He picks up his pace and his strokes become harder, his hipbones slapping against you repeatedly. He brings one of his hands to your bouncing tits, gripping one and massaging the skin with his rough fingertips. Moans and whimpers echo off the walls of his bedroom as he goes ever so slightly faster, pulling you further down the bed in an attempt to be as deep as he possibly can into your wet heat.
“Taking it so well, baby. Tell me how you feel.” He groans out, feeling himself falling closer and closer to the edge of climax.
“I… I.. fuck.” You whimper, reaching up to grip onto his biceps, your nails digging into his skin.
“C’mon… tell me.” He prods, leaning down to ghost his lips over your ear. “You like my dick as much as I like feeling you wrapped around it, hm?”
“Y-yes!” You nearly scream as he gives you an extra rough thrust.
His breath hitches and he hums contently, his dick twitching as his seed threatens to spill. He holds it back with everything he has, knowing he wants you to come undone around him before he even thinks about finishing. He leans back up and uses his thumb to rub circles on your clit, the bud pulsing and throbbing beneath his touch. “C’mon baby, let it out.”
Your stomach tenses and releases over and over as you feel your pleasure climbing to a peak. You arch up and give in to the feeling, your walls clenching around Matt’s cock with every wave that crashes and floods your senses. He fucks you steady as he watches you ride out your high, relishing in every moan of his name and flutter of your eyes.
“F-fuck… such a good girl, did so good for me.” He croaks out, his thrusts becoming sloppy and uneven.
With one final rough thrust he pushes in completely to the base, pumping his hot seed deep inside your core. He pulls out and lets his head rest on your clit, jerking himself until the remnants of his release are dripping down your folds.
Your legs give out and fall to either side of him, still shaking and twitching as you catch your breath. He crawls up and settles beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling your head onto his sweaty chest. You can hear his heart thumping and pounding against his sternum as you lay together, naked and vulnerable, your skin sticking together.
Your fingers trail up his stomach and his muscles twitch beneath them as they climb higher. He kisses your hair gently, brushing it out of your face and down your back.
“That was so…” you start, pausing to take a deep breath.
“Yeah, I know. Shh.. just rest a minute.” He whispers, finishing your thought while tracing shapes down your spine.
Your eyes flutter closed and you feel so at peace with him that you drift off lying on his chest, lulled to sleep by the sound of his steady breathing and the warmth of his skin.
When your eyes flutter open you hear the sound of his bathtub filling with water and low music playing on his speaker, but see no sign of Matt. You sit up and look around, stretching your arms above your head. His bedroom door creaks open and he walks in quietly holding two towels, a warm smile spread across his face when he sees you’ve woken up.
“Hi, sleepy girl. Just got these out of the dryer, let’s get you cleaned up.”
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romana-after-dark · 4 months ago
Text
Our Gentle Sins: Part 3 (formerly Be Quiet)
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Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader
My god this header is ass but I was an emo kid what can I say
Series Masterlist : Main Masterlist : Logan Masterlist
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Chapter summary: Past. You open up to Logan. Present. Logan opens up to you
Warnings: This fic features non con, pregnancy, and themes of religous trauma. I will not be saying everything that happens to warm you, by clicking read more you are prepared for extremely dark themes and that you at 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption.
2.8 words
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Before
Logan had tried to do as Charles requested. Tried. Honestly, he had but the place wasn’t THAT fucking big, and he kept running into you during all the times it was least oppretune, all the times he was aching for touch and tenderness as the soft skin only you could provide.
And he missed you. That little trip to the store had sent something burning in his, a spark of joy that ignited in his body that maybe this time, you would be different, everything could be different. You were fun, gentle, kind and soft and passive… He thought of how you were so scared of the man, he felt your fear drumming in your heart and at the moment all that mattered was protecting you. Still, you didn’t want him to hurt the man. Empathetic little thing.
Glancing up to find your eyes on him at diner hurt so much he tried to keep his eyes trained on the food at all times. He tried not leave his room for fear of running into you in the hall. Hell, sometimes he didn’t even want to be in the house because he could fucking smell you. He could smell when you were ovulating and on your period, in tune to everything you did despite trying to avoid you, leaving him him alone in his room to fuck his fist day after day, hour after hour humping a pillow because he couldn’t control himself like a horny teenager.
And Remy was no fucking help.
“Logan!” He called from down the hall. “I need a favor.”
He rolled his eyes. “Awful lot of favors with you, huh?”
Remy LeBeau laughed as if it was a joke. It wasn’t, Remy’s ‘favor’ had landed him in this predicament in the first place.
“I am supposed to eat lunch with notre ami,” he says with a smirk that makes Logan assume he’s not talking about Jean or Emma or Ellie. “But I’m afraid I’ve been called in another direction.”
“Is the other direction some girl’s pussy?”
A glint in his eyes. “Some man’s pussy, to be specific, cher, but a gentleman never tells. Anyway, I need you to let her know I can’t make it, send my apologies.” Remy already started walking away. 
Logan half shouts down the hall. “What, are you two going on dates now?”
“What’s it to you?”
Logan was fuming, absolutely livid. You and Remy? Fuck no. Not a chance in the world. Well sure, it would make sense. Remy was soft, kind, funny. He knew how to romance a girl. Or a guy. Or whatever it was he was sticking his dick into. He could wine and dine and woo his way into those little dresses with the right words, the right touches… He could be friendly, nice… but Remy LeBeau is not the kind of man to settle down. He’s a slut. You? You are a romantic, he could tell. Young and innocent and still believing in true love and Remy was the kind of guy to make you fall for it. Not intentionally…. Probably… but Remy didn’t understand you. Not like Logan did.
So, despite not telling Remy he would deliver the message, he went to find your classroom anyway.
*
It was early in the semester still, but fall was beginning to creep in on the New England days. Still, it was lovely out and the smell of oak made you happy, so you cracked a window. Air was good for the kids. 
You had an upper level class, literature, and were just finishing the discussion of The Count of Monte Christo. 
When you hear the door open, you expected Remy but instead saw Logan. This surprised you, considering how obvious it was he had been avoiding you, you give him a warm smile and turn back to your class who were just beginning a brand new discussion.
“But I don’t think he’s motivated by revenge, he’s motivated by love!” A young girl argues with her classmate.
“He killed people, Jess.”
You clapped your hands together, “Guys I’m so sorry but that’s our time! As much as I’m sure you’d rather skip lunch and discuss Dante’s true motivation,  I have to let you go. Come prepared to pick this right up tomorrow!” You said, thrilled this has gone so well. 
Students grab their things and file out, several saying good day and several more staring at Logan as they passed. Logan glared at one particularly bug eyed boy.
“Logan.” You call his attention from the kid, and as Logan steps to your desk the door shuts behind you. You gesture to a chair near the front of the class. “Forgive me, but my feet hurt from standing. Is it alright if I eat?”
“Of course.” He hurries to answer, scrambling around the desk to pull out your chair. He’d be damned if he was outdone by Remy. His movements were awkward and clunky. Logan wasn’t an animal, he was raised to be a proper high society man, and even though he left home young, he lived during much more… polite eras than now. While he preferred to live more rustic, he knew how to be a gentleman.
You smile up at him from the chair, thanking him quietly. Logan pulls up a chair to the front, sitting with you. 
“Remy ain’t coming.” He blurts out, ready to break the news of the date as bluntly as possible to make him look worse, but when he saw the worry on your face he read your mind. “He had to go take care of business, he’s fine though.” Watching the relief on your face made him annoyingly jealous. “Sorry he had to miss your uh…” Logan glanced around the room. “Date, I guess.”
He likes hearing you giggle, even if he thinks it might be at him. “Did he call it a date?”
“Well… no…” Why did he feel so flustered with you?
“Good. It’s hardly a date. I have higher standards than sharing a sandwich in my classroom.” Despite his protests, you lay half your sandwich on his side of the desk. He couldn't say no to you. “Remy eats lunch with me sometimes, keeps me company. As a friend, if you were wondering.”
He was.
There was a comfortable silence as Logan ate the sandwich you gave me, doing everything he could to not hum as he delighted in it. How did you make a simple caprese sandwich taste so good? How did he get roped into sharing a meal with you when he was supposed to keep his distance?
“You’re good with them.” He mumbles with his mouth half full. When you look up with confusion he elaborates. “The kids, I mean. They like you. I can see it, and I’ve heard others talking.”
This makes you blush, looking away as you deflect the compliment. “Thank you, it’s probably the only thing I’m qualified to do.”
“I’m sure that’s not true. Were you a teacher before you came here?”
“I wasn’t anything before I came here.”
Logan gestured for you to continue, so you set  down your sandwich and cleared your throat, still looking down. “I’m not really qualified to be here, honestly… It’s not like a secret or anything but… it’s not exactly something I’m shouting from the rooftops so… I mean you don’t gotta lie or anything…”
“I won’t say anything” His voice was soft, comforting. He made you trust him, so you let it all out.
“I didn’t graduate high school.” You fidget with the hem of the flower print dress that went past your knees. “I got married at 16.” When you glance up, you’re expecting to see his weirded out, uncomfortable, or maybe even disgust at you. Instead he looked concerned. 
“Jesus, doll. How the hell was that legal?”
You explain. “With parental consent and judicial approval, you can get married pretty young. My parents knew the judge.”
“And your parents were okay with this?”
Logan wasn’t stupid, he’s 200 years old and has seen plenty of teenagers getting married, but it wasn’t as common as you might think. By the time he was coming of age, marriage age, even for women, was going up. Teenagers were teenagers, he supposed.
“It was their idea… he was um… he was 20.” 
The realization dawned on him. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
You give a little shrug and go back to eating. “It was pretty normal in my circles. I didn’t realize how weird it was until I was 18 or 19 or something when the doctors- well, yeah.”
Curiosity crested on the topic of doctors, but Logan knew better than to push too hard. “And what are ‘your circles.’”
A little smile quips up on your lip and Logan notices a seed from the whole grain bread on the bottom lip. He wanted to kiss it off.
“Ever watch 19 kids and counting?”
Logan nearly cocked on a tomato. “What?”
You smirk at his reaction. “Yeah. We were IBLP, fundies I guess people say. I got 11 siblings, wore jean skirts, homeschooled, all that. I even met a Duggar once at a conference. Not the creep one. I don’t think.”
Your blase nature around your strange childhood was a defense. Every day you learned new things that you grew up in that weren’t normal, Remy and you spending hours walking the grounds, just talking. He is shocked you never watched spongebob, you are shocked he was allowed outside after dark. Both of you had a bond over failed arranged marriages and childhood abuse, but he was further along in the deconstruction path.
Nodding along, Logan tries not to freak out. Part of him wants to run away from this conversation. He doesn’t want you to open up, he doesn't want to feel pity or sympathy or learn anything that might endear you to him even more. Part of him wanted to rip out your family and your husbands throats.
“I assume that means you didn’t graduate?”
“Not even close. Homeschool was a loose term, honestly. My parents believed women didn’t need math or science, not that they believed in science, but they encouraged my read thank goodness. I spent a lot of time reading and writing, studying that stuff since we didn’t have a TV. When I say Mr. Xavier took in a stray, I meant it. I’d have absolutely no options, no social security card, no birth certificate, even. Not even McDonalds would have taken me.”
Logan frowned at that, popping the last bite into him mouth. “Why not?”
Despite it all, you laugh still. “I didn’t know that was a thing until I wondered into a Walmart asking for a job and they laughed in my face. Mr. Xavier explained all that. Listen…” You shift in your seat. “I taught all 11 of my siblings English, literature, poetry, reading, writing… I promise you, I might not have gone to college… but I know what I’m doing here.”
He shot you an assuring smile. “I didn’t doubt you for a second, Dolly.”
Logan spent the rest of your lunch break helping you cut out book themed decorations for your classroom. There was so much he wanted to learn, like why you can’t drive, how you left your husband, how you possibly gained the courage to do it knowing nothing of the world and what had happened to you to make you run like that? How brave you must be, for such a small, vulnerable thing, to do that. Logan found he greatly admired you. He had his healing powers, his strenth, speed, his claws to protect him. But you? Just out on your own.
He wouldn’t fuck you. He wouldn’t fall in love. He would do as he promised Charles, he swore it to himself…
But from now on, you didn’t need to be afraid of anything.
Logan would be your claws.
After
You banged on Logan’s door, not caring who heard.
“LOGAN!!!” You shout, continuing to bang even after he opened the door. You didn’t care. Fists pounding on the door turned into fists slamming on his chest. Logan didn’t seem phased, its not like you were strong. Instead, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his room before closing the door. You knew you should fear he’d rape you again after what he did but you couldn’t care anymore. 
“Dolly-”
You throw the pregnancy test in his face, dried piss and all. “I hate you! I hate you!” You continue to scream at him and smack at his chest but he lets you. You scream, and scream and his and scream until there is nothing left in you and you fall to your knees crying.
Logan catches you, kneeling down and taking you into his arms and you just let him because fuck, you are so starved for affection, so desperate for touch it doesn’t matter that it came from him. You fit neatly in his lap, his chest warm against your head as he holds you to him.
He smells like oak.
When you calm down, you shove at him again and fall off. 
When he reaches for you, his worry stricken face trying to convince you he was the Logan you knew before, you shout, “No!” Pointing directly at him.
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Dolly. I am.”
“No, you’re not.” A sniffle alerts you of your runny nose, and you wipe it with your sleeve. “You knew what you were doing! You can’t- you apoligized while raping me, Logan!”
He winces. “Don’t say that…”
“What, rape?” 
That cringe again. “Don’t- don’t call it that!”
You scoff, a sardonic smile playing at your lips. “Oh, I’m sorry, that's upsetting to you? I can’t imagine how that feels, Logan.”
A moment of silence. Then he huffs a small laugh. You hated him, you hated how easy to was to fall back with him, to feel comfortable with him when he did something so horrible to you… and yet when you look at him now, sitting on the floor with the big eyes and little kitty ear hair as you called him, you didn’t see the man that raped you. You just saw Logan.
“I’ll get an abortion.” You say without much conviction.
“No, you won’t” He sounds more convinced than you were. Logan’s eyes were soft, patient, like a parent waiting for his childs fit to end.
You sit back against the wall, exhausted. “Yes, I will!”
He smirks. Is he making fun of you? “No, you will not”
“Or what, you’ll hurt me? You’ll follow me around everywhere?”
Logan chuckles at that. “No. I don’t need to do that. I’m not entirely convinced you would have taken that plan B, honestly.”
“Wha-” 
“How would you get there in the first place? You gonna ask fucking Remy to drive you to the abortion clinic?” He doesn’t give you a chance to answer. You and him both know what it is. Leaning in, Logan rests his elbows on his crossed legs, tight tank top straining against his pecs. “I know you, sweet baby doll. Better than Remy, better than anyone ever could. You may have left that world you lived in, may have left those beliefs and your parents and your husband and your pastor, but it hasn’t even been a year. Some stuff comes easier to digest, like realizing your husband doesn’t have the right to beat you with a switch. Some stuff, like what's going on in your womb… that gets a lot harder to sort through. I know you, and you just don’t have the guts to get an abortion”
You hated him. You hated him because he was right,
“That’s why you chose me, isn’t it.” The tears dripped down again, but softer this time. “Because you knew I wouldn’t.”
“No.” He sounded certain, final, almost deviated like it was important for him to know you understood what he was saying. “Dolly…” Logan leans over getting on his hands and knees. Slowly, he crawls across the floor to you, a cat hunting his prey, shoulder blades moving in time and jutting out of his shirt. His eyes were trained on you.
“I didn’t choose you, baby doll. None of this was my choice. The moment I saw you, every single choice was taken away from me.” He stalks closer, and you press your head against the door as your heart rate picks up again. “You were mine, I was yours, and everything that’s happened since has been fate pulling us together.”
Your lower lip quivers, making you whimper. “I didn’t want…” You almost say you, but can’t bring yourself to it. It wouldn’t be true. “I didn’t want that.”
His face is right up against you now, soft little breaths fanning your cheek and his eyes lidded with lust. “I didn’t want it to happen like that either, dolly.” His lips brush yours. “But I can’t deny fate any more than you can deny me.”
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Logan might be a little ooc in this ill be real but shhhhhhhh
Also this is not hidden pro life agenda. I am pro choice.
I was raised Catholic and I remember even though a few years into deconstruction I couldn’t let go on the idea abortion was murder. I was assaulted and thought I was pregnant from it and spent hours sobbing in church because I wasn’t know what to do. Luckily it’s a choice I didn’t have to make in the end but please know whatever choice you made for your body was correct.
Want more yandere delulu logan?
Fan of this and also love joel?
Want soft logan, no dark?
If anyone else writes dark logan and wants to be fwends hmu <3 gotta be lgbt inclusive and general leftist stuff. I'll reblog your stuff!!!!!
Consider donating to doctors without borders to support gaza
If anyone knows more good dark logan writers hmu bc i just dont know anyone else!!!!
I appriciate you all supporting my logan work! keep on send them asks! I hav sunday off so i ll ge more then !
if you dont normally read my stuff, sometimes i do polls at the end of my fics. usually its about the story but i gotta do this for like....... well
I wrote the worng way and spent most of it regretting the name bc i just went with the first thing. Same here. this was initially a one shot! nut i fel the title is too simplistic
love yuh!!!
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sreidisms · 11 months ago
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Sweater Weather
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Spencer Reid x Mid/Plussize!Fem!Reader
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Summary: you wish you could be able to wear Spencer's clothes, but you wear completely different sizes. However, one day he comes home with a surprise.
Genre: ever so slight angst if you even notice it, fluff
Word Count: 1K
Warnings: insecurity, self-comparison, kissing. Only she/her pronouns are used, so trans girls and anyone who uses these pronouns, this is for you.
A/N: I read @tenpintsof-sundrop 's post about how SO many Spencer writers love the "girlfriend wearing their boyfriend's clothes" trope, and honestly as they should, but as a mid-size girl, it's not that realistic. So I took it upon myself to write a short blurb where Spencer wears one of your sweaters. Enjoy 😙
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Autumn was undoubtedly your favourite season: the crisp air biting at your skin, the crunch of browned leaves on the pavement, the feeling of a freshly-made mug of tea warming your hands, and of course, wearing sweaters. Sweater weather, is what you called it.
What made it better was the fact you enjoyed experiencing all of this with your lovely boyfriend, Spencer. You could only describe it as luck that you both shared a deep love for autumn, and Halloween naturally. You and Spencer enjoyed taking walks in the afternoon dusk of October, watching obscure foreign films that only he could translate while you were wrapped up in a blanket, and baking cinnamon goods when sleep was long forgotten on the nights he was off work.
Nothing could disrupt your joy during this time - well, except maybe one thing. Both avid sweater collectors, they were all you wore during the colder months. And as usual boyfriend-girlfriend relationships go, you often thought about borrowing a sweater or two from his wardrobe. He had a red striped one which you adored, a memory of his younger self when you had met each other at a flea market and both grabbed the same vintage book. His brown argyle one was definitely your favourite though. And you would ask him to wear it if it wasn’t for one thing.
You wore a larger size than Spencer. It was always blaringly obvious to you how different your bodily proportions were. Although the taller one, your boyfriend wore trousers that you could hardly fit a thigh through and his shirts would only reach past your neck, or at least you assumed - you had never attempted to try.
It shouldn’t have bothered you as much as it did. There were plenty of girls who were taller or chubbier than their romantic counterpart, but it still stung. There was nothing you wanted more during colder evenings than to steal one of his sweaters and bury yourself beneath the warm wool, enveloping yourself in his smell. So you opted for cuddling up as close to him as possible, letting him wrap his arms around you - it was as good as it could get.
However, one day during November, when you were alone at your shared apartment, a very wonderful thing occurred.
The kitchen had just been cleaned after another one of your baking fiascos. Amongst many things, you knocked the bag of flour while putting the tray of odd-looking cookies in the oven, and thus made a mess of the entire floor and counter. It took a while to clean up and it was not rewarding to open the oven door to deformed, sad-looking cookies. Whatever, you thought. It clearly wasn’t your day.
You found a place in your favourite armchair, your current read in your hands. It was the ideal way to pass the time since Spencer had texted you about his mountainous pile of reports he had to finish getting through. He could surely read faster than everyone else, but it didn’t mean they would be finished in a short period of time.
As you delved deeper and deeper into the story, you were startled when you heard the front door click open. You glanced at the clock up on the wall. Almost midnight, poor boy.
“Angel?”
“I’m in the living room!” you called out.
The shuffle of shoes and a gentle thump echoed through the corridor as Spencer took off his converse and dropped his messenger bag. The sound of soft footsteps neared you until the tall man rounded the corner and appeared in all his nerdy glory.
“Hey, finally home,” he sighed.
But you didn’t listen to what he was saying because you were too focused on something else: resting on his lanky frame was your sweater. One of your warmer ones. It was obviously a little too big on him, the material slipping off his right shoulder to reveal his white button-up underneath. The dark green sleeves were always a tad too long for your arms, and you’d assume they wouldn’t even reach Spencer’s wrists, but there they were covering his knuckles, only his fingertips poking out.
“Is everything alright? You seem distracted.” Spencer’s voice pierced your bubble of awe.
“Is that my sweater?”
He looked down and pulled on the hem of the sweater, a faint blush tainting his cheeks. “Uh yeah, it seems to be so. Does it bother you?”
Bother you was the last thing the image of your boyfriend in your clothing would do.
You cleared your throat as you tried to gather your thoughts into an intelligible sentence.
“N-Not at all! You just never asked me to wear anything of mine before … did you not have any sweaters left?”
“Oh no, I did! I um- well yesterday you wore it and left it on my desk chair, and it looked so warm and it … smelt of you.” His voice went up an octave at this last part. “And I thought I could wear it. Is that okay? Did I do something wrong?”
Wrong wasn’t the word you would use. Cute, adorable, heart-warming were adjectives that fit to describe the situation.
“Far from that, Spence. You look … you look adorable,” you said warmly.
He smiled in embarrassment and lifted his hand to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He truly was the spitting image of domesticity in this moment.
“C’mere.” You urged him to walk towards you, tucking your legs underneath your body. He shuffled closer while he picked at the stray ends of wool fraying at the sleeves.
Once he was close enough, you held his face in your hands and left a tender kiss on his plump, pink lips. He whined quietly at the sudden action, but let you do as you pleased - he couldn’t really say no, he was putty in your grasp.
After stopping the sweet kiss, your eyes traced over his outfit again - God, he was such a darling.
“Please wear my clothes more often, you look cute in them,” you said while looking into his hazel eyes.
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he grinned.
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Need him to wear my sweaters, I swear 🤧
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pdriesta · 4 months ago
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a love like this — 1
an — a series of blurbs based on the main couple of "something real”. if you’re someone that read it, let me know if you have requests <3
masterlist
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the champions league win party was alive with the kind of energy that only comes from a hard-earned victory. the room pulsed with music, laughter, and the collective joy of a team that had conquered europe. lights danced across the walls, casting playful shadows and giving the space an almost magical glow. in the midst of it all, jude stood on the dj stage, his face alight with exuberance and just enough alcohol to make him fearless.
y/n, who had always been the quiet observer, stood with the wives and girlfriends of the players, her heart swelling with pride. she watched jude, her eyes tracing the way he moved and spoke, her emotions a mix of adoration and gratitude. over the past nine months, she had witnessed his incredible growth, not just as a player, but as a person. his determination, his late-night training sessions, and his relentless pursuit of excellence had all led to this moment. and she couldn’t have been prouder.
their relationship had always been a secret, something they cherished for its intimacy and depth. while the world speculated about jude’s romantic interests, assuming he was involved with glamorous models, no one knew the truth. to them, y/n was a mere shadow, her name unspoken and her role in jude’s life a mystery. they had no idea that behind closed doors, jude returned home to her, where their relationship was quiet and true, far from the public eye.
but what jude couldn’t take his eyes off was her.
she wasn’t in her usual work attire tonight, no reserved outfit or team jacket. instead, she’d slipped into his jersey, cropped at the hem to show off a sliver of her stomach, paired with a black leather skirt that hugged her curves in all the right ways. her braids were pulled back just enough to show her face, glowing under the soft lights, and jude swore he’d never seen her look more incredible. the way the jersey hung on her—his number, his name across her back—made something primal stir inside him.
he’d never get to see her like this in public, not in front of the whole team, the media, the world. their relationship was theirs, private and tucked away from prying eyes. but tonight? she made an exception. for him.
he was losing his mind over it.
jude made his way through the crowd, eyes locked on her, his smirk widening as he caught the hint of a shy smile pulling at her lips. she knew exactly what she was doing to him.
"come here, baby?" he murmured as he reached her, his hand immediately finding her waist, pulling her close enough that he could feel the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of his jersey. his fingers traced the exposed skin just above her skirt, slow and deliberate, like he couldn’t get enough of the feel of her. "my jersey... looks even better on you."
"thought i'd make an exception for tonight," she teased, her voice soft but filled with that playful edge he loved so much. "don’t get used to it."
jude leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear, the scent of his cologne mixed with the alcohol on his breath sending a shiver down her spine. “oh, i’m already used to it, baby. might need you to start wearing this more often… especially at home.”
her heart raced, the heat of his body pressed against hers, his voice low and sultry, dripping with unspoken promises. she felt the tension between them thickening, the flirtation laced with something far more heated.
"you look incredible," he whispered, his hand moving down to the curve of her hip, squeezing gently. "everyone's staring at you, you know? can’t blame them… but they have no idea that you’re all mine.”
y/n tilted her head up to meet his gaze, her lips parting slightly as she caught the hunger in his eyes. it was rare, seeing him this worked up in public, this openly enamored with her. she couldn’t help the flush that crept up her neck, knowing just how much he wanted her in this moment. “i’m not used to all the attention,” she admitted softly, but there was a teasing lilt in her tone. “you sure you’re okay with sharing me for the night?”
jude chuckled, his lips brushing against her ear, sending a delicious shiver down her spine. “sharing? nope. you’re just reminding everyone who you belong to.”
his words made her stomach flip, a mixture of pride and desire curling through her. she loved this side of him—the possessive, confident way he claimed her without ever needing to say it outright. it was in the way he touched her, the way his eyes darkened every time someone looked their way, like he wanted the whole world to know she was his.
and tonight, just for tonight, she didn’t mind. she’d wear his jersey, let the world speculate, because at the end of the night, they both knew exactly where they were going, and exactly who they belonged to.
“you’re trouble, jude bellingham,” she teased, placing a hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her palm.
he grinned, pulling her closer, his lips ghosting over the side of her neck. “you love it though.”
her breath hitched, the sensation of his lips against her skin sending a thrill of excitement through her. she knew they were still in public, that they had eyes on them, but the way he was looking at her made it hard to care.
“maybe,” she whispered back, her voice barely audible above the music, but jude heard it loud and clear. his hand tightened on her waist, his fingers grazing the hem of her skirt, dangerously close to teasing her even more.
“when we get home, you’re not taking this jersey off,” he murmured, his lips brushing against hers, so close but not quite touching. “i want to see you like this for the rest of the night.”
her pulse quickened, a blush creeping up her cheeks at the thought of what was to come. “bold of you to assume i’m going home with you,” she teased, but her tone was playful, knowing full well they both knew where the night was headed.
jude’s grin widened, his eyes glinting with mischief. “oh, you’re coming home with me. you’re mine, y/n.”
her stomach flipped again at the possessiveness in his tone, the fire in his gaze. it was a side of jude she rarely saw in public, and it was intoxicating.
"we'll see," she whispered, but the challenge in her voice was light, playful, her heart already set on following him home.
he chuckled, pulling her even closer, his lips finally brushing against hers in a kiss that promised so much more than just victory.
a few moments later, jude was pulled back on stage before he take the kiss further. y/n continued causal conversations with the partners around her until she heard the music lower.
“buenas noches a todos,” jude began, his voice slightly unsteady but filled with affection. “good evening everyone.” he looked out over the crowd, his eyes searching for y/n’s face. when he found her, his smile widened, and he continued, his spanish slightly slurred but earnest. “i want to say a few words about someone very special to me.”
y/n felt her heart flutter as jude’s gaze locked on her. her cheeks flushed as she realized he was talking about her. she tried to hide her face, feeling a mix of embarrassment and joy.
“ella está ahí,” jude said, pointing straight at her. “she’s right there.”
the crowd turned, and y/n could feel the weight of their curiosity and admiration. she buried her face in her hands, trying to hide the blush that had spread across her cheeks.
“y/n es la razón por la que sonrío cada día,” jude continued, his voice filled with warmth. “y/n is the reason I smile every day.” the sincerity in his words made her heart swell, a tear slipping down her cheek.
their relationship had been one of quiet support and deep understanding. they had chosen to keep it private, a sanctuary away from the glare of the public eye. jude’s accomplishments, his dreams realized on the grandest stages, were always shared with y/n first. she had been there through the highs and lows, offering encouragement, sharing the burdens, and celebrating the victories.
“ella ha sido mi apoyo en cada paso del camino,” jude said softly. “she’s been my support every step of the way.” his words were a testament to their shared journey, to the nights spent talking about dreams and the days spent working towards them.
y/n’s eyes sparkled as she peered out from behind her hands, touched by jude’s heartfelt declaration. their love was something they cherished deeply, a beautiful secret that no one else understood. while the world saw only the surface, they knew the truth of their bond—how jude came home to her every night, how they built their lives together in the quiet moments away from the public eye.
“y te amo más de lo que las palabras pueden decir,” jude finished, raising his glass toward her. “and I love you more than words can say.” his gesture was filled with genuine emotion, and y/n’s heart ached with love.
as jude stepped down from the stage, his slightly unsteady gait did nothing to diminish the joy in his eyes. he made his way back to y/n, pulling her into a tight embrace. “how was that?” he asked, his voice a mix of playful and sincere.
y/n looked up at him, a mix of amusement and exasperation in her eyes. “jude, you told everyone my name and our relationship.”
jude’s face fell slightly, his inebriated mind struggling to keep up. “i forgot,” he admitted, pouting slightly. “i just wanted everyone to know you’re mine. please don’t be mad.”
y/n couldn’t help but smile at his earnestness, her heart softening despite her attempt at scolding him. she reached up and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, reassuring him. “i’m not mad at all,” she said softly. “it’s just that this was bound to happen eventually. i’m proud of you, trust me, i’m happy.”
jude’s face lit up, his earlier pout melting away into a genuine, joyful grin. “i’m glad,” he said, pulling her closer. “i want everyone to know how much i love you
y/n nodded, her heart swelling with warmth. “i know, baby, i know. and i’m looking forward to everything that comes next. the break, time with our families, trips together. everything as long as i get to be with you.”
with jude’s arm securely around her, and the room buzzing with celebration, y/n felt a sense of completeness. their love, once a secret, was now a cherished part of their journey, a testament to the strength of their bond and the bright future ahead. as they danced together, their hearts beat in harmony, a symbol of a love that was both private and profound.
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the morning after the champions league victory was filled with the haze of a wild celebration. jude woke up with a pounding headache and a feeling of disorientation. he reached out for y/n, but the space beside him was empty. groggily, he stretched and stumbled out of bed, his movements slow and unsteady. the remnants of the night before clung to him, and he squinted against the bright sunlight streaming through the curtains.
as he made his way to the kitchen, the smell of coffee and breakfast wafted through the air. y/n was there, moving around the kitchen with practiced ease. jude paused, taking in the sight of her in her comfortable clothes, her hair still tousled from sleep. he felt a pang of regret for not having stayed more present during the celebration.
reaching for his phone on the nearby counter, he glanced at the screen and was instantly hit with a barrage of notifications. there were countless messages, missed calls, and news reports. his heart raced as he saw headlines about him and y/n, snippets of their intimate moments from last night, and pictures that clearly showed them together.
“what the hell?” jude muttered to himself, scrolling through the messages in disbelief. his head pounded harder as the reality of what had happened sank in. he grabbed his phone and hurried into the kitchen, where y/n was busy at the stove.
“baby!” he blurted out, his voice strained with a mix of panic and confusion. “someone leaked our relationship. look at this!”
y/n turned to him, her expression calm but her eyes full of understanding. she raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “yes, jude, that person was you. last night, you got a bit carried away on the dj stage.”
jude’s face went pale as he tried to piece together the events of the previous evening. “i did? oh god, i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—”
“it’s alright,” y/n said, trying to suppress a smile. “i’m not really into social media, so it’s not a big deal to me. but it looks like you’re going to have to fight off your fans for me.”
jude walked over to her and pulled her into a tight embrace, resting his chin on the top of her head. “i’m really sorry, baby. i didn’t mean to cause any trouble. i just wanted everyone to know how much you mean to me.”
y/n looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with affection. “i know. and it’s sweet. we’ll just handle it together. besides, it’s not every day you get to have your love life out in the open.”
jude chuckled, his mood lifting despite the headache. “well, at least we can enjoy the fact that we’re finally able to be open about us. and if it means dealing with some extra attention, so be it.”
y/n grinned, teasingly nudging him. “just make sure you don’t make a habit of this. i’m not looking forward to fending off a horde of fans.”
jude laughed softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “deal. and thank you for being so understanding. i promise to make it up to you.”
as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the earlier chaos seemed to fade away. the morning sunlight cast a warm glow around them, and despite the unexpected turn of events, their love felt as strong and genuine as ever. they shared a tender moment, savoring the intimacy and connection that had always been their anchor.
“now,” y/n said, pulling away slightly with a playful smile, “how about some breakfast? you look like you could use it.”
jude nodded, his eyes brightening. “sounds perfect. and maybe a bit of coffee to help with this hangover?”
y/n laughed, guiding him to the kitchen table. “coming right up. and remember, no more public declarations especially when you aren’t sober.”
jude grinned, settling into his seat. “i’ll try my best. but you have to admit, it was kind of romantic, in a crazy, public way.”
y/n shook her head, her smile widening. “you’re insufferable, jude. but that’s one of the many things i love about you.”
as they sat down together, enjoying a quiet moment of normalcy after the whirlwind of the night before, jude felt a deep sense of contentment. despite the unexpected exposure, they were still together, facing everything side by side. and that, in itself, was all that mattered.
next
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© PDRIESTA 2024
taglist — @sinners-98-world @stephiii29 @kcharlyy @landosgirlxoxo @judesthighveins @ilovelifes-world @cinderellawithashoe @imnyt @miniemonie2001 @lunamelona @treble-snot
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cinnamostar · 1 year ago
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five dates to fall in love
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part one. part two. part three (here). part four. part five. part six coming soon.
pairing : hyunjin x gn!reader
summary : after a two year long unspoken hatred, hyunjin and you are forced to be costars in a romantic series, but when it comes to filming any of the romance scenes, you both utterly fail and are unable to get through your lines. the director threatens to take your roles away if you two aren't able to get past this within the next week, which spawns the genius idea from both your managers: can you learn to (fake) fall in love in seven dates and save your careers?
wc : 2.7k
cw :actor!au, enemies to lovers ?!, slowburn (?!), not proofread, descriptors of insecurity and stuff, internal struggle but nothing serious
a/n : finally... its here... sorry for this taking long, i was traveling for holidays and then classes started but its here! lmk what you guys think :3 this chapter is a lot chiller imo... just trying to set a Vibe of emotional conflict... ALSO im not trying to paint hyunjin as the bad guy.,.,, but i think its also important to show that people will form opinions no matter what and will inevitably pick a side. so yus...
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Tears cascaded down your warm cheeks as you tossed yourself in your bed, the frustration and anger you were holding back finally catching up to you as quiet sobs escaped your lips. You hated how horrible the feeling of pure anger, as it always felt you were on the verge of bursting at the seams from how violent and erratic the emotion was as it overran your body. You had no idea what to do with it, always allowing it to linger til it overwhelmed you to the point of tears and surrendered to its burning grip. Your phone began to vibrate, which your hand mindlessly reached over for and picked up without second thought, as you knew it would be no other than Chan calling you at such a moment.
“Y/N… Are you okay?” concern dripped from Chan’s voice, while all you could muster out was a muffled grumble as you stuffed your tear-stained face into your pillows. “Right,” he responds, acknowledging your groan, “Well, I heard what happened through Changbin, so I called to check in on you.”
You take a deep breath in to soothe your hoarse throat from your onslaught of tears, praying your voice wouldn’t be too shaky as you spoke, “Well, I’m upset.”
“I don’t blame you one bit, I’d be just as upset as you are,” he reassured you gently, “Do you want to talk about it? Or do you need some more time to figure your feelings out?”
“I don’t know,” you mumble, turning your face away from the pillows so your voice was clearer, “I don’t know how to feel. It’s just a lot. It’s such a stupid reason for him to have just been so shitty to me for so long. He literally could’ve just asked me or talked to me about it instead of assuming.”
“Right, I agree. Even Changbin didn’t know about that being the reason,” added Chan, “I’m sure he lectured him on it because that is a crazy conclusion to jump to.”
“And I’m even more upset that was the conclusion he landed on! Why did he just assume I’d do something so terrible? Why did he not consider that I was trying to help him secure the role?”
“Sounds like he has an insecurity issue, if I had to guess, but who knows. You have every right to be upset, but there is another pressing matter we do need to address.”
You sigh, rolling onto your back as you use your free hand to rub your temples, “Yeah, I know. As upset as I am right now, I do still want to keep doing this project, but…”
“But…?”
“I don’t really… know if I can do that because I don’t wanna see his stupid face or go out on any other practice dates,” you huffed angrily, feeling a bit relieved to verbalize some of your feelings. 
“Well, I won’t force you to go on another date if you still need time to cool off, but maybe it will help you get used to seeing his stupid face after this. Plus, Changbin did tell me that you have permission to yell at Hyunjin if you wanna get that out the way.”
You let out a small chuckle, unsurprised to hear that Changbin said such a thing, “I’m not going to yell at him, but I appreciate the offer. I don’t know, I’m still really worked up from the whole thing.”
“Give yourself time, you can let me know in the morning how you’re feeling and we can go from there, okay?” Chan asks, the gentle tone of his voice bringing you a sense of comfort. 
“Okay, I’ll do that. Thanks Chan.”
“Of course, take care, Y/N.”
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The next morning rolled by rather quickly and while it would’ve been a lovely day to stay in bed, your stubbornness caused you to find yourself walking to your third date of the week. You were still terribly upset at Hyunjin and forgiveness was not in the cards at this point, yet you had other pressing matters that did not allow you to wallow up in hatred and resentment for him. You had to set your feelings aside for a moment in order to make some sort of progress on this current acting project, as you were way too excited for how the final product would turn out and truly believed in the success of the film.
Although, you didn’t have high hopes for today, as you expected it to be a similar outcome to your previous dates. Today’s day was Chan’s idea, which was attending a local farmer’s market in your area that provided all sorts of family-owned shops to look through, including a variety of food to choose from. It was a bit last minute, but Chan knew your love for these small events, so he hoped this would bring you some joy, but also give you the opportunity to wander off from Hyunjin if needed, while also giving you both the chance to talk about something. 
You were approaching the entrance to the park it was being hosted at, checking the time on your phone relieved to know you were on time. Honestly, while Hyunjin would probably be late once again, you didn’t mind the chance to enjoy bits of the market alone, especially on such a sunny day during these winter months. However, you were completely stunned to find Hyunjin waiting by the entrance as well, nonetheless waiting five minutes earlier than the time Chan had told you. He stood there awkwardly, both hands in the pockets of his coat as he bounced on the balls of his feet nervously, his eyes widening when his gaze finally lands on you.
You approach him with caution and a raised eyebrow, not completely believing the sight before you, “I didn’t expect you to be here so early,” you state curtly, trying your best to remain civil and cordial despite yesterday’s events.
“Well,” he stammered, his fingers jittering in his pockets, “I think I owe you an apology, and I thought showing up on time for once was one way to show that I am being genuine.”
“An apology?” you question, your ears not believing his words.
He sighs nervously, brushing a hand through his hair, “I have… realized I was entirely wrong about the situation, and I am truly sorry for that and for treating you so horribly the past two years we’ve known each other.” You wear an unconvinced expression, unsure what could’ve caused him to have a change of heart overnight, especially since he was just in deep denial the day before. He continues his statement after picking up on your apprehension, “I ended up reaching out to director Han about the situation and he… he told me how much you vouched for me when he spoke to you.”
You nod your head as you take in his words, “I see, well, I’m glad you’ve come to that realization and I accept your apology,” a hopeful look appears on his face, “But, I do need time before I can forgive you because the way you’ve treated me has really hurt me. And the fact that you thought I’d ever do that to you hurt me a lot too.”
His expression falters, but he offers an understanding smile, “I completely understand, I honestly do not even deserve your kindness right now, so thank you for being kind about this.”
You return his smile with a tightlipped one, still not entirely believing the sudden change in him, but you couldn’t lie, it did feel a bit nice to see him so timid and meek, and hearing an apology come from him did help loosen the knot of rage that laid dormant in your stomach. “Well,” you clear your throat awkwardly, trying to find a way to continue the day, “Do you want to head in?”
“Sure, lead the way,” he responds, his hands returning to his coat pockets as he anxiously trailed behind you. Eye bags hung on his face, indicating the restless night he had suffered due to the guilt he had been digesting since his phone call with the director. Hyunjin felt horrible after the revelation he had, feeling nothing but the heavy, deep seated weight of anxiety and guilt resting atop his chest. Even the sight of you made the feeling worse, facing the reality of how his actions have affected you all this time was a whole new hurdle he had to learn to conquer. The least he could do was try to be as kind as he could be from here on out, and brace himself for whatever angry slurry of curses you had for him, but how could Hyunjin forget? 
The volatile version of you he had become used to these past two years was not who you truly were, but something he provoked out of you through his incessant insults and stale attitude. In reality, you were an extremely kind and patient person outside of the context of your relationship with him, and your reaction to his apology was evidence of that. He couldn’t help it, he felt like such an idiot for thinking you, of all people, would have ever sabotaged an important role for him, and he only further deluded himself in that belief by pushing you to the point of petty toxicity. 
The best he could do was remain quiet as he followed your course through the various stalls, the shame only intensifying when he would witness your eyes widen with joy whenever you found an item that interested you, and how you even took the time to converse with each stall owner about their products. The genuinity in your nature was something he couldn’t believe he had denied for so long, disillusioned himself so far to have forgotten it. All for what? Because he couldn’t accept his own failures, or face the daunting insecurities about his talents that he held so closely to his heart? Perhaps it was your self-assuredness that caused a hint of jealousy to brew into this mess he had concocted today, your very confidence that struck a chord of envy within him. He didn’t quite understand what led him to act in such a manner, he could only guess why he was the way he was, but all he knew was that he owed you a lifetime of favors.
At the moment, he stood uncomfortably by your side as he watched you peruse through a few crocheted trinkets a stall had, afraid to disrupt the bits of peace you could’ve had with him tagging along. In all honesty, to an outsider, he probably looks like a child who got dragged along with his parents on a day out. You sigh as you place the trinket down, turning your head to catch his eyes darting around nervously, “Hyunjin,” you speak. He startles upon hearing his name, not expecting you to ever pay him any mind today. “I get this is awkward, but you can loosen up a bit. I don’t bite,” you chide with a hint of playfulness in an attempt to lighten the mood. 
He lets out a strained exhale, acknowledging your words, “You’re right, I just don’t want to make you feel weird or uncomfortable,” he confesses.
“Well, I think staying quiet doesn’t help that cause much, does it?” you ask rhetorically before adding on, “It’s okay. Have you seen anything you like from any of the stalls? I really like what this one has,” you muse, a gentle smile taking your features as you hold up a small crocheted keychain of a  jellyfish with a wobbly smile on it, “He’s kinda silly looking, I think I might take him home with me.”
Hyunjin lets out an airy chuckle, his shoulders relaxing a tad, “He definitely is funny looking,” he replies, “Ah, I don’t know. There’s so much here, this is my first time going to something like this.”
“Oh, this is your first time? You’ve never been to the farmer’s market ever?”
“Nope, never been, but this is nice. It’s a lot better than I imagined.”
“You’ve been missing out, I love going to these. I try to go every now and then whenever I’m free,” you took out your wallet, handing the vendor cash to pay for the keychain, “There’s always fun knick knacks here, and everyone is so sweet. You sure there’s nothing you wanna stop by before grabbing some food?”
His eyes scan the stalls surrounding you both, but you notice them lingering at a small jewelry stall that sold handcrafted rings, ones that definitely fit his aesthetic. “Come on,” you motion him to follow you to the stand, “Maybe you’ll see something you’ll like.” He follows behind you, still in a timorous manner, but you could see the way his eyes brighten once he realizes where you were dragging him off to. Although you were far from friends, it didn’t mean you weren’t aware of how particular he could be when it came to fashion, and you wanted him to at least get something out of today after suffering intense awkwardness. 
It was now your turn to watch Hyunjin look through the assortment of jewelry the owner had laid out and of course, he was gravitating towards the silver rings, each with their own intricate designs that demonstrated the amount of artistry and talent the owner held. He looks overwhelmed with the amount of choices before him, indecisive as he holds two different rings in his hands, modeling each to figure out which one he liked best. “Why not just get both of them?” you ask.
“Both?” he ponders on the suggestion, “I guess I could do that.”
“Or,” you start, picking up a ring that you thought would suit his taste, “get this one instead,” you hand him the ring, a knowing smile on your face.
His mouth fell in surprise at it, slipping it on his finger as his eyes marvelled, “Wow, this one is so nice,” he mumbles while now placing the two previous rings away, “How did you know I’d like this one?”
You shrug nonchalantly, turning away from him, “You know, we were friends once,?” you remind him, “Just get it, find me by the food stands once you pay for it.”
He stays in his place as he watches you walk away, once more left speechless by your kindness as he begins to wonder how you were able to treat him as such. The guilt that made its home in his stomach began to rumble, the bitter taste of it overpowering his sense as he comes to terms with just how wrong he was all this time, and how awful he had been to someone as gentle as you.
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The day had come to an end, and surprisingly the latter half went better than either of you could have expected. In a way, it was like time hadn’t passed as you both chatted effortlessly over food from whatever food truck caught each of your attentions. You both caught up on what you missed in each other’s lives during your heated rivalry, and somehow, every part of the conversation felt natural, nothing felt out of place and it was almost as if the past two years didn’t exist.
It was incredibly unsettling for you, and you started to feel a bit conflicted on where your anger lied with the boy as the time you spent softened your heart. Although, you knew you couldn’t allow him back into your life that easily, as his behavior deserves some sort of consequences, so you decided you couldn’t allow yourself to surrender that easily. Not all because you found yourself missing the friendship you once had with him, that wasn’t a good enough reason to overlook his actions. You cursed yourself silently as you arrived home, yet there was a small voice in the back of your mind that tried to convince you that perhaps it was best to let this happen in the name of the acting project you were both on. 
No, no, you remind yourself, he definitely doesn’t deserve your forgiveness or trust that easily.
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taglist: @kopikokrunch @icouldntcareless22 @kidrauhlschik @hhwangsmoon @lestayzone @vixensss @cupidcures taglist cut off at 20 people :)
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tomriddleslovergirl · 9 months ago
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Marvel characters x oblivious!reader
Steve Rogers:
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Steve and you had been getting to know each other for the past few months and were becoming good friends. Although, Steve had begun to get feelings for you that were not so friendly. He wanted more out of your guys' relationship.
He'd never been good with flirting, but decided to at least try in doing so incase he scared you off or made you uncomfortable by being too upfront.
So, while on a walk with you one winter day, Steve decided to make his move.
"Y'know, Buck once told me pretty girls always have cold hands." The cold didn't bother Steve because he was a Super-Soldier, but he assumed that it would cause some discomfort for a normal human.
You look down at your hands.
"Huh. Mine are always warm." But either way, you shoved your hands in your jacket pocket, not noticing that Steve had put out his hand for you to hold.
Peter Parker
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Peter and you had been going out for a little while now, and every time he'd try to flirt with you, you'd be oblivious. So after building up some confidence (with the help of Ned), he asked you. "Can I have a kiss?"
You look at Peter in shock, wondering how he knew you had a bag of kiss in your bag. You rummage through it and hand him one.
"Here," You say, handing the small chocolate to him.
Ned held in a laugh.
"Th-thanks?" Peter said, his voice cracking with confusion and embarrassment at being rejected - even if it was done obliviously by you.
Wanda Maximoff
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Wanda had tried flirting with you before and you would never quite get the hint. She had assumed there was something wrong with the way she tried to make romantic advances with you and went to the Natasha to get some pointers.
Later on, Wanda decided to use some of Nat's tips.
Wanda asked you if you wanted to bake cookies with her and invited you into the Avengers Tower kitchen.
While you both were baking and talking, Wanda would try to make her laughs sound breathy when you made a joke or would compliment you from time to time.
When she noticed you were having trouble icing one of the cookies, she stood behind you, and gently wrapped one of her hands around your hand that was holding the piping bag while you held onto the cookie.
"Here," she whispered, her hot breath hitting your ear as she helped you ice your cookie.
After Wanda was done, she placed the icing bag on the counter and looked at you, trying to see if her flirting had done the trick. But you don't notice anything out of the ordinary.
"Thanks, Wanda," you say, thinking she was just trying to be helpful.
You went to grab another cookie to ice, when she suddenly grabbed your chin. "You have something on your face," she says.
You look up at her in surprise as she swipes her thumb against your cheek. She brings her thumb to her mouth before licking the icing off.
You look up at Wanda, your brows furrowed. "That's disgusting, Wanda."
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marcyvamp1re-blog · 2 months ago
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I would like to request romantic yandere scott summers x reader where his darling has amnesia. Now I don’t know how they got amnesia but scott brings reader home from the hospital one day and takes reader home claiming the reader is his wife or husband( gender does not matter), even though they were not married before. Scott takes advantage of the fact reader has amnesia, I would also have to assume they are not at the mansion so scott can do his yandere doings
BAG OF BONES
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Synopsis. You remembered nothing, not even your name, yet he wove stories with threads of gold and promises. His voice, a refuge; his gaze, a cage. He claimed to love you like never before, like always. How could you doubt someone who swore to be your everything, even if his love felt like a prison disguised as home?
pairing ── Yandere! Scott Summers x Amnesiac! Reader.
Content. MDNI ── Dark themes, violence/death, blood, retrograde amnesia, forced marriage, inappropriate touching, insolation, invasion of privacy, kidnapping?, Slight mention of pregnancy, delusion, Angst, murdering, Disturbing Content, Death of a canonical character, lgbt?, Unhealthy Obsession, Gaslight, Mental Illness, Corruption, Isolation, Paranoia, Manipulation.
A/N ── English is not my first language—Spanish— Honestly, I've always been interested in the Yandere x Amnesiac theme. It's really fascinating how the psychology of the characters can be so complex in these types of stories. Also, thank you for being clear and concise in your request, and I hope you enjoy it.
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They say one should never try to go back to the past, that the present is where we must live and the future what we must build. But how could you do that when you felt a piercing emptiness in your chest, a pain you didn’t understand? Your heart screamed that something was wrong, that what you were experiencing wasn’t real, that danger lurked closer than you could imagine.
The white glare of the hospital lights blinded you as you opened your eyes. You felt your body heavy, your mind clouded, and an absolute bewilderment that made you tremble. Everything felt strange, as if you were a piece out of place in an unknown puzzle. Then you saw him.
A tall man, with a firm build, wearing burgundy glasses that hid his eyes but not his excited expression. His smile lit up upon seeing you awake, and before you could say anything, his lips pressed against your forehead, your cheeks, your hair, leaving desperate and anxious kisses.
“Thank God you’re okay,” he whispered with a warm, relieved voice.
But you weren’t. You remembered nothing. Not even your name. Confusion filled you, and words wouldn’t come to your lips. He, however, seemed to have all the answers.
“I’m Scott Summers, do you remember me?” he said, taking your hand gently. His fingers were warm, but the way he squeezed them made you feel trapped—“We just got married.”
Married? The impact left you breathless. You looked at your hands, and there it was: a beautiful diamond ring along with a wedding band. Its shine seemed to confirm his words. When you looked up, you saw he wore a similar set on his left hand.
“I... don’t remember...” you started to say, but he shook his head gently.
“It doesn’t matter. You’re alive, and that’s all that matters. I’ll take care of you.”
His voice was sweet, reassuring, and you decided to believe him. Why wouldn’t you? Everything seemed to fit: the ring, the familiarity in his gestures, the way he looked at you. But deep inside, there was something you couldn’t silence.
There was something in his smile, something in the way his fingers never stopped touching you, that made you feel exposed. Vulnerable. Like you were a butterfly trapped in a display case, admired but with no escape.
How naïve you were to think that warmth meant safety.
When he took you to what he said was your home, the confusion inside you grew heavier, more oppressive. It was a small cabin in the midst of a lush forest, completely isolated from the rest of the world. Scott explained that the distance was necessary, that you had always preferred the tranquility of nature, away from societal judgment, especially for what you were: a mutant.
“You used to say that here you could be yourself,” he murmured with a smile as he parked the car. His words were warm, but they sounded strange.
As he guided you through the house, you noticed how his explanations seemed overly rehearsed, almost mechanical. The master bedroom was cozy, with dark wooden furniture and a large bed, but there was something unsettling in how orderly everything was, as if you had never truly lived there.
“This is the guest room,” he said as he opened a door. The space was filled with tools and paint, as if it were in the process of being transformed—“I’m preparing it for something special.”
You didn’t ask for what. There was something in his tone that dissuaded you from doing so.
The kitchen, however, came with a warning. “Don’t enter here without me, okay? I want to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.”
“Hurt myself?” The phrase hung in your mind as he showed you the rest of the house. Finally, you arrived at the living room, the space that unsettled you the most.
It was a mix of museum and altar. There were photos of you everywhere: smiling, reading, walking in a park you didn’t recognize. Some included Scott, his arm always firmly around your shoulders, and others showed a group of people who seemed unfamiliar yet strangely familiar.
In one of the photos, a group dressed in flamboyant, almost theatrical clothes stood out. It was a mosaic of colors and textures that evoked something lost on the edge of your memory. In the image, you were in a corner, embraced by a young woman with pink glasses who seemed a few years younger than you. On your other side, a brown-haired woman with white streaks smiled subtly, though she didn’t touch you. She seemed close, important.
However, what caught your attention the most wasn’t any of them, but a figure in the background, almost hidden behind Scott. A woman with bright red hair who seemed to look at the man with particular intensity. The photo was slightly blurry, as if someone had manipulated it or neglected it on purpose.
“Who is she?” you asked, pointing at the blurred figure before you could stop yourself.
Scott tensed immediately. His smile vanished for an instant before returning, though more forced. “Oh, just someone from the past. It doesn’t matter now. The only thing that matters is you and how happy we are together.”
You didn’t press. His response wasn’t enough, but something in his gaze told you that pushing was dangerous.
That night, as you tried to sleep, doubts burned inside you. Who was that woman? Why couldn’t you remember anything about your life, not even the people in those photos? And above all, why did every time you looked at Scott, the weight in your chest grew heavier, as if you were trapped in a gilded cage?
You didn’t love Scott. You couldn’t. Maybe you had at some point, but if that was the case, that love didn’t survive the accident that erased your memories. Now, he was a stranger, and his constant need for contact suffocated you. Scott wasn’t just clingy; he was voracious. Every caress felt like an indelible mark on your skin, every kiss a reminder that you weren’t free.
He adored being glued to you, almost as if he feared you would disappear if he let go. He insisted on bathing you, choosing your clothes and dressing you, his fingers grazing your skin more than necessary. He prepared every meal with devotion and served it to you as if you were a deity to be worshipped. But even those gestures, so carefully disguised as love, carried a shadow you couldn’t ignore.
“I want you to feel cared for, protected,” he would tell you with a smile as he brushed your hair. His words were sweet, but the way he said them was unsettling, as if he were convincing himself more than you.
Days passed in suffocating routines and deafening silence. Scott took you outdoors, around the cabin, making sure not to stray too far. He said it was for your safety, but you knew that wasn’t true. Every time you looked at the forest, so vast and full of possibilities, you felt a growing urge to run, to escape, even though you didn’t know where to go.
And then the flashes began.
At first, they were fleeting images, fragments that emerged when you least expected them. A smile that wasn’t from Scott. A soft laugh. Bright green eyes framed by fiery red hair. The woman from the photo.
Every time those memories surfaced, a sharp pain pierced your head, as if your mind struggled to protect you from something you didn’t want to know. But the most disturbing thing wasn’t the woman, but how you saw her: standing next to Scott, his hand in hers, their lips forming words you couldn’t hear. Happy. United. Almost as if…
No.
The first day you had that memory, you screamed in the middle of breakfast. The spoon fell from your hands as you instinctively recoiled in your chair. Scott was beside you in an instant, his hands firm on your shoulders, his eyes hidden behind glasses but his face filled with concern.
“What’s wrong, love? Are you okay?”
“I... I...” You tried to explain, but the words wouldn’t come. All you could do was look at his hands, those same hands that in your visions touched another woman with the same devotion as they now touched you.
Scott frowned, his expression darkening for a moment before a nervous smile returned to his face. “It’s just your mind playing tricks on you. It’s normal, sweetheart. Take a moment.”
But it wasn’t. And you knew it.
That night, as you brushed your teeth, the mirror in front of you trembled. Not from any external movement, but because your mind was slowly breaking, releasing pieces of a puzzle you were just beginning to recognize. A flash hit you, as if a storm were dragging you to another time.
She was there, the red-haired woman you had seen before, but this time she wasn’t a blurry image. Her laughter was warm, almost contagious, and you were next to her, shy, with a small smile that barely dared to emerge. Her hand rested gently on your arm while the other figures around you joined in the conversation.
The dark-haired woman with white streaks watched you with a mischievous look, an eyebrow raised as she crossed her arms. Beside her, a young woman with pink glasses laughed loudly, patting your shoulder as if she had known you forever. Nearby, another tall woman, with deep eyes and a majestic demeanor, looked at you with a mix of understanding and affection. They all seemed to encourage something, their animated voices like a chaotic melody you could barely comprehend.
“He’s a good man,” one of them said, her tone firm but kind. “He adores you!” exclaimed the youngest, with a beaming smile. “Just go and have a little fun.”
But not all were so enthusiastic. The red-haired woman didn’t share their laughter or their words of encouragement. Her expression was softer, almost melancholic, and her eyes met yours for a long moment. When the others dispersed, she stepped closer to you.
Her hands took yours, warm and steady, and for a moment you felt more protected than you had in a long time. She didn’t say anything at first, just hugged you tightly, her embrace speaking more than any words. Leaning toward your ear, her voice was a whisper, but her words were etched into your memory.
“You have my blessings…” Her breath was shaky, and you felt her fingers tighten slightly on your back—“And I love you.”
You stepped back slightly to look at her, but her smile seemed like a mask. There was something in her eyes you couldn’t understand at that moment, something that hurt you in a strange way.
The memory faded as quickly as it came, leaving you standing in front of the mirror, gasping. You gripped the edge of the sink, your fingers white from the pressure. Your reflection seemed distant, as if it weren’t yours.
Who was she? What did it all mean? And above all, why did her face, her voice, her embrace fill you with a warmth that made Scott’s love feel cold and forced?
The mirror in front of you trembled as you hit it with your hands, gasping, your pupils dilated with terror. Your reflection didn’t look like you. It was a broken version, trapped in a life you didn’t understand.
Scott appeared behind you like a ghost, his hands wrapping around your waist firmly. His warm breath on your neck made you shiver.
“You look tired, love. Let me take care of you.”
The first time you saw him in full clarity was in a dream, or so you thought when you woke up, gasping and with your body soaked in cold sweat.
You were in a dark and damp room, the air heavy with the metallic smell of blood. Your hands trembled as you held a fragile, cold, lifeless body: a woman with red hair, now dulled and stuck to her pale face. Blood stained her lips and flowed from multiple wounds on her chest, as if something had pierced her repeatedly. They weren’t normal wounds; they were small, irregular caves, burned by a heat that couldn’t be human.
Jean. Her name hit you like lightning. Jean. Now you knew, and the weight of that name on your chest made you sob as you held her against you, trying, futilely, to cover the wounds with your hands.
“No... no, please, wake up...” Your voice was a desperate whisper, broken, a lament in the void.
The sound of footsteps behind you made your body tense. You recognized them before turning around. Their walk was unmistakable: confident, calculated, almost victorious.
Scott was there. His figure was silhouetted against the dim light, his burgundy glasses shining with an unsettling glow. His face showed no sadness, no guilt. Only satisfaction.
“It had to be this way,” he said with a calm voice, too tranquil for the scene before you. His tone was gentle, almost kind, as if he were explaining something simple.
You stood frozen, your hands still holding the body of the woman, while your mind struggled to process his words.
“What... what did you do?” you managed to murmur, though your voice was barely a thread.
Scott took another step forward, his boots echoing on the stone floor. He knelt before you, ignoring the blood staining the ground and spreading like a river between you two. His hand rose to caress your cheek, and you flinched, unable to move.
“Now that she’s gone…” he continued, his tone filled with a sweetness that was terrifying—“nothing can separate us. We can be together, just as we were always meant to be.”
Your body reacted before your mind did. You let Jean’s body fall, stumbling backward, your hands still trembling, covered in her blood. “You’re crazy!” you shouted, though your voice broke into a sob at the end.
But Scott didn’t seem affected. He stood up with the calmness of someone who knows he has already won. He took a step toward you, and then another, until you had no space left to escape.
“No, love,” he said, leaning toward you, his breath brushing your ear—“I’m in love.”
The intensity in his voice paralyzed you. It was a declaration, not an explanation. He truly believed that everything he had done was out of love.
The dream, or the memory, ended there, with his face so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his skin. You woke up with a start, a muffled scream in your throat and your heart pounding in your chest.
Your hands continued to tremble as you looked around the room. You were in the cabin, in your bed, but the smell of blood still seemed to linger in the air.
“Are you okay?” Scott’s voice broke the silence. He was next to you, watching you with his typical feigned concern, his hand already reaching for yours.
You instinctively recoiled, pulling away from his touch, but you tried to hide it. Your breathing was ragged, and you forced yourself to nod. “Just... a bad dream.”
He smiled, but his eyes behind the glasses didn’t stop watching you with that intensity that always seemed to hide something more. “I’m here for you. Always.”
That night, you decided you had to uncover the truth, even if it cost you your sanity... or your life.
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A/N ── Yes, it’s not a happy ending, but at least it’s an ending that leaves a lot of room for reflection. I wanted to try out a conclusion like this at some point, and I hope it didn’t make anyone uncomfortable. Thank you for reading, and if you want to request something, feel free to do so as long as requests are open. More information in the pinned comment!
Take a bath!
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frenchkisstheabyss · 8 months ago
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♡ OT8 Stray Kids Showing You They Love You ♡
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♡ Just some ot8!stray kids showing their chubby!fem!gf how much they love her and what some of those things might be.
♡ The biggest of thank yous to @tryingtolivelifeblog for requesting this. It's such an adorable idea. I just love it to pieces and hope you do too!
♡ Genre: fluff
♡ Word Count: 1.4k-ish
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♡ Bang Chan ♡
It isn’t unusual for your boyfriend to be up on his laptop all night, headphones in, chipping away at the next track for his group. That’s what you’ve assumed has been happening these past few weeks but you couldn’t be more wrong. He has been working on a song but it’s for you and only you. It’s much softer than what he’s usually known for with instrumentals that feel like a warm blanket on a cold night. You can feel his vulnerability in every word he sings. So much that you can’t even question if he really means it when he says that your gentle heart makes him fall for you more and more each day. Or that the sweetness of your voice brings calm to the chaos in his brain. He dedicates an entire verse to the brightness of your smile and how your laughter’s his favorite sound. By the end of it you’re trying not to cry which is fine because he is too.
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♡ Changbin ♡
You have no clue how much self control it took for Changbin not to buy out the entire Build-A-Bear store getting those cute little teddy bears that say phrases when you hug them. It would’ve been easy for him to send someone else to get them for him but he does it himself instead, pretending to be at the gym while he picks out the perfect dozen for you. Once everything’s perfect he leaves them around the apartment for you to find with notes that say “Hug Me”. When you do you hear your favorite voice telling you that your eyes are so beautiful and brimming with love that he could stare back into them all day. He loves how you see him, really see him, for who he is and he never has to hide behind a mask with you. You’re his #1 cheerleader, always reminding him he’s good enough when he doubts himself. There isn’t a safer place in the world for than with you and he'll spend the rest of his life doing everything in his power to be the same for you.
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♡ Hannie ♡
With your boyfriend’s hectic schedule, it’s important to him that he makes time to have special moments just for the two of you. This includes game nights which he takes very seriously, going all out to make sure the atmosphere’s ultra romantic and you have all of your favorite snacks. When you settle in for your latest game night you’re clueless when he presents you with an already built tower of blocks with hearts on the exterior of each piece. As the game begins you realize that each block you pull out has a reason he loves you handwritten on it. All 54 blocks. His hand cramped up 1,000 times doing it but it was worth it for you to know that spending an eternity cuddled up to your soft body would be the sweetest fate imaginable. That he never dreams better than when you’re there beside him, fingers running through his hair, singing him to sleep. That, even though it hurts sometimes, you make him miss you more than he has anyone else.
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♡ Hyunjin ♡
Hyunjin’s never told you this before but he knew that you were the one since the day you first met. There was simply no way he was going to let someone as special as you get away. In the year since then he’s been drawing pictures of you in his sketchbook during moments when he’s feeling particularly sentimental. You’re always too respectful of his artistic process to peek at his work unless he asks so you don’t know until he shows you that he has such gorgeously vivid drawings of you making breakfast for him in the wee hours of the morning before he has to catch a flight. A few pages in there’s another of you playing with kids at the park when they needed one more person for a game. The last page is you sitting on the balcony of your hotel room, waiting to comfort him after an appearance he’d been dreading. The way you’re so thoughtful, lovely, and kind live in those moments he never wants to forget. 
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♡ Felix ♡
“Felix, I think there’s…paper in this cupcake?” When Felix surprises you with cupcakes at work and sees you bite into the first one it dawns on him that he probably should’ve considered that maybe cupcakes don’t work exactly like fortune cookies do. But his heart was in the right place and you can’t bring yourself to care about biting into a little paper when you see what he’s written on them. He watches with the widest smile on that freckled face as you read how much being with you keeps him grounded in a life that can leave his head spinning sometimes. It means everything to him that his fame doesn’t make you treat him differently. You dance with him beneath the stars and kiss him in the rain because you love the Felix that’s just a silly kid from Australia and not the one on the magazine covers. You make him feel fearless because he knows even if he shoots for the stars and misses you’re here to catch him. 
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♡ Lino ♡
Some people have this picture in their head of your boyfriend as this grumpy black cat who doesn’t quite know how to show affection but you know better than anyone that isn’t true. In reality you couldn’t imagine finding a guy more loving and thoughtful than Minho. What other guy would surprise you with a hike through a picturesque forest, hiding the cutest lock boxes at special landmarks along the way that hold his favorite pictures of the two of you together? A sentiment that particularly tugs at your heartstrings because you know he isn’t a picture guy but for you he is and always will be. On the back of each picture he writes something he loved about you at that moment. The warmth of your hand as he held it at the cat cafe in Tokyo or the scent of your perfume as you cuddled up to him on a neverending train ride that exhausted both of you. It’s the small things like the way you never hesitate to join him in making funny faces in front of the camera that make love you like he does.  
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♡ Innie ♡
I.N could give you a bouquet of flowers that say “I love you” and call it a day. He knows you’d still treat it like he gifted you all of the diamonds in the world. But he wants to do more than that. Instead of giving you a bouquet all at once, he gives you a flower for each day of the week and, in place of a real flower, he gives you a glass rose that shimmers marvelously in the sunlight. Engraved on the side of each rose is something he finds special about you. Like the patience that you have with him while he figures out who he is in the world. You never pressure him to become anything or stay the way he was. Whoever he becomes he knows it’ll always be enough for you. Your kisses are like magic, cheering him up when nothing else can. And that counts for all kisses. If it’s on the lips, the neck, the forehead, wherever. They spark a joy inside of him that he isn’t quite sure any amount of words or roses could do justice to but he hopes this comes close. 
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♡ Seungmin ♡
No one ever thought the day would come where Kim Seungmin got all mushy over a girl. Yet, here he is, head over heels in love with you, and he dares anyone to say something about it. Not that anyone would, it’s a well known fact now that you mean a lot to him. So much that wherever he is in the world he makes sure to bring you back something that reminds him of you. It’s left you with a collection of things from more places than you’ve actually visited. There’s the goddess carved in polished wood, nestled in the arches of a crescent moon with her curves on full display. When he saw it he joked how lucky he was to have one of his own at home, only prettier. Then there’s the music box that plays a song neither of you have ever heard before. Still, it reminds him of your melodic voice whispering to him between the sheets on rainy Sunday mornings. There was no way he could leave the shop without it. He knows one day you’ll run out of room for wind chimes that sway as gracefully your body when you dance, even if you don’t think so, but that’s okay. He’ll just buy you more room.
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fatescaprice · 11 months ago
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hello my favourite argenti kisser. it is i. your supreme overlord ^_^ i am here to, very politely, ask for aventurine and robin dating hcs. shambles away miserably. you know who i am. goot bye <3
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dating aventurine and robin
content warnings: none
note: hello supreme overlord!!! you can shamble all u want . i will remember . anyways i had a lot of fun writing this :) please accept my humble offering . i hope u enjoy 🫡
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Despite his seemingly friendly exterior, AVENTURINE isn’t as easy to get to know as some might assume. He teases, and befriends, and invites, but always keeps people at an arm’s length — for many years this is how he’s lived, and he was wholly under the pretence that he would continue on like this until he died.
Early on in your relationship, it might not feel like you’re even dating at all. He invites you to his fancy IPC parties as a plus one, but gives you about the same amount of attention as everybody else. He asks you about your day, but never talks about himself. It takes him a while to warm up to you — maybe he ends up enchanted watching the way you talk about your passions, or maybe he’s awestruck by the smile you throw his way as you thank him for a gift he got for you. Either way, he falls hard, like a meteor crashing down to earth.
Aventurine’s love language seems like it would be gift-giving, but it’s far too easy to buy you things, he thinks. His time is far more scarce, and therefore far more precious to him. He’ll text you after he clocks out with a dinner invitation to somewhere he knows you like — he’s already made the reservation, so what do you say? He’ll watch you drone about your day with some smitten look on his face until his food goes cold.
Without his usual suave bravado he feels a little too vulnerable than what he’s used to — sometimes, when he looks at you, he feels like he’s looking straight into the sun for the first time, blinding and comforting all at once.
His love is genuine, if a little clumsy, too. You might get calls from him throughout the day while he’s at work: nothing’s wrong, he’s quick to say, he just wanted to hear your voice. His hand reaches out for yours in the same smooth, practiced motion as always, but the way his fingers curl around yours, his thumb brushes over your knuckles is new, almost shy — and if you’re able to catch the look on his face before he glances away, you’ll be able to see the gentle upturn of his lips, a delicate little arc, brighter than any gem he could ever present to you.
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ROBIN's love for you is something akin to the feeling of walking into a well-lived room: warm, familiar, safe. No matter how long you’ve actually been together, she always feels some sense of innocent puppy-love for you — always enamoured by the way you speak, and smile, and laugh, and…
It’s quite likely that you’re her first romantic relationship. She’s had fans in the past that might’ve liked the idea of her more than her actual self, but with you she feels seen in all the best ways. She doesn’t feel the need to play any role, or keep her hair neat and voice soft and back straight. In your company she feels she can let herself be, let herself hold your hand across the table or wipe a little bit of food off the corner of your lips. Would you be so kind as to let her? She hopes so — the feeling of your warmth next to hers is more exhilarating than the cheers of any crowd.
Robin’s preferred kind of dates are the more lowkey kind: maybe you just want to have a home-cooked dinner, or to watch a movie in the living room? She’ll help you set up the kitchen or help decide on a movie. It’s not uncommon for her to encounter reporters or paparazzi while out and about, and while she might be used to it, she doesn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire. It’s like a breath of fresh air for her, too — everything is so much less stifling when it’s just the two of you.
She seems like the type to express her love in little ways, too. She’ll order your coffee in the way that you like without even having to ask, or she’ll adjust your collar if it’s crooked before you go out together. The thought of you permeates all her thoughts and actions, too — in a crowd of people she’ll find herself singing only to you, and as you walk hand-in-hand through the late-night streets of the Golden Hour, not even the brightest lights will be able to tear her eyes away from you, the sweetest dream she could ever hope to have.
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winterarmyy · 2 years ago
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Plot Twist | Part III*
An arranged marriage with mafia!bucky.
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Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III* (end) | Extra
Words: 4.8k++ (of mostly filth)
Pairing: beefy mafia!bucky x female!reader
Warnings: 18+ content, no minors allowed, nsfw, cunnilingus, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, lots and lots of praises, bucky's filthy mouth, tiny hint of wife!kink from bucky, soft!bucky being romantic, fluffy date, reader is quite a menace at the end, honestly.
A/N: This is the last chapter because I didn't really have a long plot for this specific fic. I wrote this fic entirely out of impulse.
P/S:  I have no idea what I just wrote for the smut scene; partially because english is not my first language and the rest is because I literally have no experience but I hope y'all enjoy it somehow!
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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"Don't hide those noises from me, doll. I want to hear you." Bucky licked a strip up across her gushing pussy before lewdly suckling on her sensitive clit.
 "Bucky." she whined so needily as if she hadn't just come on his tongue a few moments ago.
How did they even get here in the first place?
One minute Bucky was proposing to ditch the gala, that's when she decided to bring him to one of the most underrated diners in Brooklyn. 
Then somehow, there was Bucky, eating her out as if he was still starving. 
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"Oh my, Irene is that you?" The way the old lady gasped with excitement as she walked towards the couple; Bucky was assuming she was indeed talking to his wife.
Y/N grinned with a tiny scrunch on her nose, a goofy smile that Bucky never seen before. Entranced, he didn't even notice how his heartbeats quickens, let alone process the fact that Irene was not his wife's name.
"Long time no see, Maria." Y/N didn't hesitate to be engulfed by the warm and welcoming hug from Maria as if she was one of her grandchildren.
The tight squeeze loosen up after a while, followed by a compliment, "You look absolutely stunning, sweetheart." By the way she was looking up and down at Y/N, it seems like she doesn't want to move on from the topic.
But swiftly, a frown formed on her forehead when she realizes, "But why are you having a date at my old rackety diner?" Maria was quick to read the room.
Well, it's not that hard when you see a gorgeous, well-dressed couple walk in together. Him opening the door for her, the shy smile on her lips, any excuse to have his hands on her, glimmer in those eyes of hers.
Of course, it was a date.
"Now, why would I trade some fancy overprized steak with your absolute perfection of a burger? God don't get started on those crispy fries. I've been craving them for weeks!" Y/N could feel her mouth-watering from her own imagination.
"Oh, stop it! You're exaggerating!" Maria chuckles, lightly taping the side of Y/N's shoulder.
"I certainly am not!" Y/N exclaimed, almost animatedly.
The conversation in front of Bucky seemed to be silenced by his own racing thoughts.
Bucky was certain that these past few months being married to Y/N, he already knew her. All her patterns were memorized in the back of his head.
But this was different. It doesn't look like her; at least not the look that she always displayed around their mansion, nor any events they went to.
However, it feels so much like her at the same time.
If she still has other sides and expressions hidden from him, then wanted to see them all.
His hearing started to regain its ability when Y/N spoke, "This is my date, Sebastian. Babe, this is Maria, the owner of this diner." She introduces them.
Bucky leaned forward as he offered his hand, only to be pulled into the similar hug that his wife just received. Maybe he let his guard down, or maybe Maria was just stronger than him to be able to pull him in like that.
"I heard so much about you and this place. Thought nice to bring Irene to her favourite place for a date." Bucky was partially lying. He did promise her that she could choose anywhere she wanted to go to, but at the same time he had no idea this place existed before.
Maria had an approving smile on her face, as if he ticked off several of her checklist for choosing Y/N's boyfriend. She shot a look at Y/N, showing her approval which only made Y/N rolled her eyes.
When they settled in their booth and their orders taken, Bucky started to come up with the first topic, "So, Irene..." he purposely slowed his pace, as if he knew that Y/N would burst into laughter. A triumph smirk curved across his lips, knowing he managed to pull one of her rare laughs.
"...I just wanted to say that I, Sebastian, am honoured to be able to take you on a date this lovely evening." He managed to sound effortlessly posh while saying it, which makes Y/N laugh even more so.
"Oh god, stop, Bucky. It's just us. You don't need to act anymore." Her eyes briefly pointed to their surroundings. Indeed, there was just them and a group of teenagers all the way across the diner.
Bucky chuckled, "Well the way you act just now makes me think you me to stay in character."
"I didn't know that my wife had different identities. Wanna tell me about it?"
Y/N hesitated at first, she wonders if Bucky can accept what she had to say about this, but the anticipation and curiosity in his face seemed to look like he was sincere.
She took a deep breath before letting out a sigh and explained, "People like us can't just go out and about with our family names attached on our faces. We'd be sticking out like a sore thumb."
Bucky thought of what she said for a bit before he asked, "And you hate that? Having my name as part of your identity?" His brow quirked.
She exhaled deeply, "No, I didn't mean it like that, Bucky."
Her hesitation after only urged Bucky to silently demand for further explanation.
She admit defeat as she spoke, "Let's be real our lives are not ordinary. We weren't born in normal society like these people do." Y/N gaze roamed around the few people within the diner. There was this longing in her eyes.
"And I just want to feel what is it like to be one of them. To able to bond other people without greed or malice behind their intentions." There was only truth in her gaze, and Bucky saw that.
"I-- it's like an escape for me. A breath of fresh air if you will." She expressed.
"Like your books? Are they your escape too?" Bucky asked after thinking about how many hours she spent reading.
A fond smile curved on her lips, "Precisely."
He thought deeply before asking, "If you're constantly trying to escape, then what is it that you are trying to run from?" he riddled.
Y/N leaned back to her seat and think of the best way to put her feelings in simple words, "Nothing. I guess that I haven't find something that make me wanna stay in this reality."
"Yet" Bucky didn't mean to say it out loud. It was supposed to be his personal thoughts, but Y/N's eyes unexpectedly lit up, "Yet." She repeated his word, with a hopeful tone behind her natural voice.
The prolonged eye-contact broke when Maria came to serve their food. The conversation after that was nothing too deep, nothing too general. It was the type of conversation that left a light-hearted residue within their chest.
Hours passed and the music resonating from the jukebox seemed to shift into something slow, something more ballad-like. Bucky had an idea. He stood on his feet and walk out of their space while straightening his jacket.
Y/N was confused at first, "Are we leaving already?" was what she thought of before Bucky spoke, "A dance, my dear?"
She trailed the hand that was outreaching towards her, then up to his face. His smile was charming, and the crinkled lines on the side of his eyes were even more endearing.
Who'd knew those small things could become one her little weaknesses. She accepted his offer by grasping on his hand while he gracefully pulled her out of their booth towards the empty space between rows tables and the jukebox.
Bucky pulled her in, even closer than deemed necessary. She followed his lead; fingers laced lightly with each other's. His other hand rests right above her backside. And hers on one of his shoulders.
Though both of them didn't have a clue on how to dance but it didn't stop them to naturally fall into step and let the rhythm control their movements.
Everything else around them; the diner, the people, seemed to dissolve with time. It felt like there was just him and her, alone. Only the sounds of their heart beats and the music that remained.
People in the diner sat on their seats; watching the couple swayed along the melody of the song; couldn't help to admire the sight in front of them.
Even the bunch of teenagers on the other side was suddenly intrigued, some of them gawked and squealed at them, others didn't waste any time and started pull out their phone to record the moment.
Bucky leaned in as he whispered her name. She looked up in respond, with a smile spread across her beautiful face and eyes curved into upside down crescent moons.
A storm of uncontrollable emotions surged throughout Bucky's body, and his nerves tingled in delight. His brought his hand towards her face and brushed his thumb across her cheek.
His body was acting on its own as all the restrains he locked himself before vanished into thin air. Nothing was holding him back from this slice of paradise.
Her eyes glistened the moment Bucky's thumb pressed against her soft lips. "You're so beautiful, Y/N. Do you know that?" He whispered. His eyes searched her features as if he can't believe that his wife was real.
Her lips parted as a laugh escaped through her mouth; it seems to be that she doesn't believe him. Though the truth was clear, and yet somehow she couldn't see it.
"I'm serious, doll. You don't know how gorgeous you look right now." Her cheeks deepen in the colour of rose.
Bucky drew her close to his chest, so close he could feel the warmth of her body; while she wrapped her arms around his neck, tip toe-ing towards the side of his face. He could smell the delicate perfume on her.
Her lips went to his ear as she whispered ever so softly. "And you're such a flirt, do you know that?"
She returned to her original position, looking up with mischief gleaming in her eyes. Whatever spell did she just put on Bucky in that very moment, it certainly work wonders as all he can think about is how her lips feels against his own.
Bucky looked like as if he was in a daze, lips slightly parted, his gaze soften as they fixated on her maroon painted lips.
Y/N seemed to pick up on what's going to happen. Her hands trembled in anticipation; his scent was alluring, almost intoxicating that she might recall this moment whenever she smell this cologne again.
The moment seemed to prolonged but then it feels like the time stops entirely when Bucky pressed his lips on hers. The kiss was delicate, and soft, and passionate and real all at the same time.
Bucky pulled away momentarily only to pull her close again by the back her neck, tilting the heads in opposite direction as he licked her lips for permission in which she gladly comply.
Her hands gripping on the fabric of his shirt that's rested on his chest, holding on to him for her dear life as he stole her breath away.
Soft moans were slipping through the kiss as she felt the delicious burn of his stumble on her skin. Little did she know that, that might just be one of a trigger for Bucky to lose control.
He grunted in disapproval when she pulled away, wanting nothing more than to kiss her again and again and again until both of them forgot how to even breath.
But looking down at her trembling lips, the glaze across her eyes, her shaky breath; Bucky might just turn feral right there and then.
"Bucky..."
Bucky swore that she was whining his name.
"...Take me home."
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Which then leads to this very moment where Bucky grabbed her by the waist, pushing her cunt further on his tongue before wrapping his arms around her thighs.
He wants to make sure she's strapped in for another wave that's about to crush her.
He flicked his tongue in an up and down motion, gliding through sensitive bundle of nerves. As if he knew what she like. No, he knows exactly what makes her squirm.
It took him a few orgasms on his tongue to know that she loves those small circles over her clit, those flat licks when he spread her pussy apart, how she much prefer to have her clit played rather than her hole fucked by his fingers, all of the little notes were already buried in Bucky's head.
And oh how divine does she look when she came for him. Bucky couldn't take his eyes off her; he was already addicted her taste, the shudders of her thighs on the sides of his face, and her pretty voice moaning his name.
Why hasn't he done this earlier?  
"It's been too long, doll. Should've claimed this gorgeous pussy long ago. Shit." He growled his desire before diving back to her leaking heat.
Wet vulgar sounds echoes within the enclosed space of their bedroom as he devoured her whole. His changing speed really was too much for her to handle, and him gripping onto her thighs was the right choice.
Especially, when she started to squirm upwards, "Oh god Bucky,," moaning as she threw her head back to the soft pillow under her head.
Smirking proud against her parted lips, he pulled her back where she was before, pinning her hips against the bed. He sucks her aching bud into his hot, wet mouth so ferociously she can only gasp to the immense pleasure.
Oh, does it feel good having his mouth wrapping around her pussy like this, while the tip of his dangerous tongue flicking mercilessly on her swollen bundle of nerves.
So good to the point she was seeing stars. Literal stars at the back of her head as her high was reaching for euphoria. The aching pleasure caused her toes to curl and thighs burning, shaking as she cried out his name.
But, he wasn't satisfied yet, insatiably greedy for more, "So sweet, baby. Come on give it to me." He growled against her.
He continued to abuse that cunt over and over as the shameless wailing and chanting of how bad she wanted to come, filling up not just the room but also his pride.
Bucky wants to make her feel each stroke and glide of his wicked, delicious tongue. Feeling the electrifying pleasure surging within her core, her thighs involuntarily started closing around his head.
He can barely breathe from how much she was suffocating him, but he certainly refused to stop.
Not until he ruined that needy cunt of hers.
Over and over, he sucks and pulls while his tongue danced through her until her sanity was close to breaking, body trembling in his hold.
The wet squelches, the lapping of his tongue, her sexy moans. He drowned himself to every single one of them.
"Fuck! Bucky, I'm coming. Please, please please don't stop!" She begged for his mercy even if he never asked for it.
Her moan was getting needier than ever, while her hips jerked upwards to meet his tongue. Her fingers gripping on his soft hair, guiding his through the sweet torturous pace.
Fortunately, she wasn't the only one who was close to an explosive high. Bucky's cock, hard and pulsing, twitched against the constraint of his boxer. Even without any simulation from any kind of touch, his cock was more than overjoyed to come along with her.
And it was all because of her.
From the way she was shamelessly humping against his mouth, using him to get herself off. Gripping and pulling his hair, so she could ride his tongue faster.
Bucky hummed against her clit, before chuckling, "You're already such a good girl, doll. So perfect. You taste..." his tongue licked through her folds, grazing on the throbbing clit. "...Perfect."
A whisper of his name escaped as she gasped into a back arching shudder, head thrown back, eyes rolling, unable to focus on anything other than the pleasure of his tongue.
"Do it." he growled out. "Come for me, baby. Make a mess on my tongue."
That command was all it supposed to take, for her to finally let go but feeling his tongue flicking against her clit was what ripped the orgasm right from her begging pussy.
A loud scream of curses of his name was the only thing she can utter once the orgasm washed over. She let the pleasure unravel from within to every part of her shivering body, until she was left limping on the bed.
"Gorgeous..." he grunted with a horny tone, tongue sliding in between her wet slit, making sure every lick managed to collect the sweet nectar she had bestowed him.
Finally pulling away from between her legs, the lower half of Bucky's face was drenched; his lips glistened with the mixture of spit and slick, dripping down along the chin, down to his neck.
His eyes closed in an euphoric high, tongue licking her cum off his lips before forming a devilish smirk on his face. He looked as happy as a man can be with that smug smile of his.
Bucky smirked at her broken moan, "...so pretty coming for me." he praised ever so endearingly.
He climbed over as he continued to praise what a good girl she was, how well she did, how addictive she tastes, and how he would gladly eat her out for the rest of his life.
Bucky's mouth watered and his cock twitched at the beautiful, yet filthy sight of his wife splayed on their bed; her breasts moved every so gracefully despite her heavy breaths, legs spread apart as he kneeled in between.
Looking down at her mess, he might just want to be greedy and devour her once again, but his cock was much more needy than his anticipated. Right now, he wants nothing more than to feel her tightness around him.
Bucky levelled his face over hers, "Open up, honey." he husked. Still in a slight daze, Y/N blindly followed his temptation, only to feel his lips on her, his tongue settled within her heated cavern.
Every wave and movement of his tongue on hers were purposely slow and gentle. She can feel herself melted into the kiss, even more hypnotized into a dreamy haze.
Bucky pulled away with a rumbling hum, "Taste good doesn't it?" He prompted as he stroked the strand of her hair behind her ear. Y/N can only nod with an approving moan as she relished the gentle caresses on her cheek.
"That's all you, babydoll. Addictive isn't it? So, when I ask for this pussy, you will give it to me. Every single time. Do you understand?" Bucky tighten his gripped on her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes.
Her eyes gleamed in ecstasy, "Yes, Bucky." she let out a breathy tone, not trusting that she can keep her moans in if she speaks any louder.
Bucky smiled fondly, "That's my girl." he proclaimed.
"Now, how about making a mess on my cock, hmm? That sounds good to you, angel?" Honestly, it was Bucky who wanted to make a mess in her pussy, but she didn't need to know that for now.
"Yes, please." Y/N answered that way too quick, but she didn't care. The other reason why she was constantly leaking apart from Bucky's skilful tongue, was because she wanted to feel his cock stretching her apart.
Bucky chuckled to her neediness while his hand worked its way to remove his boxers. His cock sprung up to his stomach, with precum spilling from the tip. God he was so wet for her.
"...Hmmm, my sweet little wife had been so so good for me, isn't that right?" He cooed as he pulled her hips to him and lined his cock with her slick entrance that was just aching to be filled.
"Yes, Bucky" She breathed his name, as she looked up to him with full blown lusty eyes. The anticipation for him to plunge inside her needy hole were immaculate. But Bucky loved to edge a little.
"So good to me." Bucky stroked his heavy cock in between her slippery folds; the tip gliding so easily against her clit before proceeding to insert his throbbing length into her, groaning out a pleasurable 'ahhh' when he felt his cock wrapped around her tight, twitching walls, "F-fuck" He nearly whimpered, closing his eyes as he refused to come right when he just entered her tightness.
She gasped in pure ecstasy, feeling his cock in her core.
Bucky stilled as he fully filled her to the brim, letting her adjust to size as he peppered gentle kisses on her face, down to her neck and breasts.
The trembling in her cunt didn't drop its pulse, instead he swore it just increases, "Ease up, baby.. " his mouth wrapped around her nipple, "..or I might come before the fun begins." He mumbled against her breast before giving a harsh suck on her nipple.
That might just multiply the pressure around his cock though.
Even if Y/N knew she might come just by him adjusting the pace, but she didn't care, she craves the friction inside of her, "Buck-- Move please."
She didn't need to tell him twice, Bucky complied quite instantly.
"Oh, fuck!" She whimpered as his cock glide in and out of her at a sluggish pace.
"Fuck you feel damn good, baby," he rasps under his breath, his eyes drinking in every little expression she make. The little nose scrunch, her brows furrow together when he hit the spot deep within her, the way her swollen lips parted only to let out those sinful moans of his name.
"Never stop giving this pussy to me. God, I need this pussy y'hear me? I need it so bad." Bucky was well aware how addicted he was already. And he had no shame on that.
It didn't take him too long to increase the speed which led to him railing her into the bed as her muffled screams filled the room. Y/N sobbed softly to the overstimulating pleasure that started filling her body with Bucky's harsh thrusts. "So good, so fucking good!"
"Mhmm! Too much, I can't" She whimpered. She could feel how Bucky was tearing her apart, spreading her cunt as his cock lunged inside her tight walls, deliciously.
Bucky looks down to where his cock was fucking into her cunt and he shamelessly moaned, loud, deep from within his chest.
He wished she could see the vision in front of him; how her pussy displayed and wide open for his cock as he plunged in and out of her hard.
Gritting his teeth, he fucked her harder, more desperate than before, his fingers digging into her hip.  
Y/N was whimpering mad, eyes rolled back mouth wide open, drooling to every thrust Bucky pushed into her. By that point she just had lost every sanity she had in her mind and just wanted Bucky to really fuck the life out of her.
It felt so good.
Too good.
Bucky’s brows knitted into a frown, and his mouth falls open. The deep grunts he was groaning turn into frantic higher pitched moans. His eyes shut, and his head falls back in pleasure.
Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck for support as her body racked in pleasure from his deep, hard, merciless thrusts. Her body jerked back and forth with his movement.
Their skin on each other; chest touching, the intertwining sound of sinful moans and lewd, wet squelching sound, the whispers of praises uttered for one another, lingered their mind as it gave physical effect to their body.
"A little more baby, please, please— fuckin' take my cock." When was the last time he felt this good? Perhaps never because he couldn't believe how close he was to coming already.
"It feels so good, Bucky."
"Yeah? hmmm, you're handling it so well, honey."
"Yes, yes, yes, -ahh shit, so deep inside me, fuck."
"...Can't believe this pretty little thing is mine."
Those were one of the many, many whispers they had said to each other. They were dirty yet it so sincerely intimate.
Not able to control himself any longer Bucky began thrusting faster than the original pace he had set before, causing her body to thrash around.
She gripped on the bedsheets behind her as he was grunting mad over the way his cock slipped so easily in and out of her tight pussy. The way she bucked her hips to match Bucky's pace, to have more friction between the two.
Oh, it was nastily enticing.
Everything about this moment was passionate and overpowering; to the point where their minds were getting fuzzy.
It's amazing how his body conquered hers like no one had before. Somehow, he knew where all her sweet spots were and how her body would react to them, but he would still be eager to found new ones to tease her right after.
Y/N's body jerked up in pleasure as his cock repeatedly hit her spot. It felt so good, her body to started shake and spasm. Tears were threatening to spill from her eyes as the pleasure racked her body with such force she had never felt or known before.
And Bucky was the only one to ever see her like this and he would like to keep it that way.
"Mhmm, can't wait to come in this pretty pussy of yours babydoll. Fuck-- I'm already leaking inside you, baby. You're going to be so full and messy. Don't you want that, angel?" he teased as he thrusted in and out of her, groaning.
His thumb manage to find its way to play with her sensitive clit, not wanting to neglect that poor needy thing.
Feeling electrified from both his drilling cock and the way he was skilfully rubbing her clit, she squirmed and whined out unintelligible words, somewhere in between moaning his name and something about dying.
Bucky chuckled an amused laugh, somehow he managed to understand her words perfectly.
He removed his other unoccupied hand from her hip, and went to grab her both of her hands, placing them above her head. Restraining her wrists as he continued to fuck her hole; deeply, deliciously.
His body hovered over hers and their pupils dilated as their hot breath danced upon each other's skin. His erotic slid in and out of her cunt with such ease and his strong hands held a hard grip onto her contained wrists as he felt his orgasm arriving.
She felt the same familiar knot in her stomach just aching to be released." oh -oh god, Bucky. I'm gonna come!" she cried out.
"That's right, fucking cum for me!" he groaned out as he pressed his finger a little rough on her throbbing clit.
She shivered and gasped as she could feel her excitement gush out of her pussy as Bucky continued to fuck her through her high. Obscene wet noises coming from between her thighs.
And oh how Bucky relished the feeling of her walls clenching and twitching uncontrollably around his cock, licking his lip as he watched her wet juices spurting out of her pussy, drenching him more than be it was before.
"Feels fucking amazing to be inside you when you come like this, doll. So wet and tight for me..." he praised, getting replies of 'thank you's from her; she sounded delirious but that only ignites the feral in Bucky.
"...F-fuck I'm coming." His cock twitches violently. "Coming inside you, my pretty little wife. Fuckk--" His body jolted, eyes opening for just a second before they rolled shut as his hips snapped forward.
He came with a loud cry of her name, hips stilling as ropes of hot and slick cum shot out of his cock. His hot seed spread over her walls, filling her nice and full, sending shudders down her back.
Y/N can feel how he throbbed inside as each pulse of the delicious sensation came along with the ropes of cum that shoots from his cock.
He sighed as he thrusted his cock with a few more slow and lazy thrusts, letting her twitching walls milks the rest of his cum.
Bucky, soon slowly pulled out of her; she hissed as felt his cum dripping out, down to her asshole. It's a shame that he pulled out quite early than she expected; Y/N wished he could stay inside a little while longer.
He leaned down to spread multiple of soft kisses all over her face. Praising every little thing about her. Bucky thought of giving her the softest after-care she well-deserved after such a long night.
But when she looked up at him with those pair of lust-blown eyes, he never thought those words would've come out from her mouth, "Want more, please Bucky?" her tiny hand managed to grasp on his semi-hard cock, before rubbing his tip on her cum-filled hole.
Bucky never been that hard within that short amount of time. He grunted in pleasure when she pushed herself on his cock.
He let out a breathy chuckle as he cock reached the deepest part of her, "What a plot twist you are, doll."
End.
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