#but assuming romantic warm paste

[rowanthestrange]

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.

[landopoet]

devotion.

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

[rosemaryhoney27]

Ghosts, Bats, and a Jealous Witch

**Title: **Ghosts, Bats, and a Jealous Witch

Danny Fenton never thought he’d end up dating a vigilante. Sure, he’d fought alongside heroes before, but being romantically involved with one? That was new territory. And yet, here he was—standing on top of Gotham’s skyline with Cassandra Cain, better known as Black Bat, holding his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Ever since meeting Cass on a Justice League mission, they’d hit it off in an unexpected way. Danny admired her strength, her quiet intensity, and the way she could read people better than anyone he’d ever met. She didn’t talk much, but she didn’t need to. When she looked at him, he felt understood in a way no one else—not even Sam or Tucker—had ever made him feel.

Sam.

That was the problem.

Danny had expected his best friends to be happy for him. Tucker was cool with it, more amused than anything. But Sam? She was fuming.

“I don’t get it,” she had said the first time she saw him with Cass. “You’re telling me you, Danny Fenton, Ghost Boy, went all the way to Gotham and came back with a girlfriend? And she’s part of the Bat family?” Her voice had dripped with disbelief and something else—something darker. “What happened to ‘not dating superheroes’? What happened to being normal?”

Danny had laughed it off at first, assuming Sam was just being protective. But over time, her attitude soured. She became passive-aggressive, throwing little barbs at Cass whenever she was around.

“You don’t even talk,” Sam had scoffed once, crossing her arms. “What do you two even do together?”

Cass had merely tilted her head, unreadable as ever, before looking at Danny. “I like him. He likes me. Simple.”

Sam had huffed in irritation and stormed off.

It wasn’t until she started trying to sabotage their relationship that Danny had enough. The final straw was when Sam tried to get Tucker to hack the Batcomputer to dig up dirt on Cass’s past. That was when Danny snapped.

“You need to stop,” he had told Sam firmly, eyes glowing green with barely restrained anger. “I don’t know if you’re jealous or if you just don’t like me being happy with someone else, but you’re being toxic. I won’t let you ruin this for me.”

Sam had stared at him, mouth open in shock, but Danny had already turned away. That was the day he realized their friendship might not survive this.

Of course, dating someone from the Bat family came with its own problems.

Cass’s family was… overprotective, to say the least.

“You’re dating a ghost,” Jason Todd had deadpanned when he first found out. “That’s somehow the least weird thing to happen in this family.”

Bruce, ever the brooding father figure, had run Danny through every possible background check known to man. Alfred, while polite, made it very clear that he would not tolerate any supernatural nonsense in the Wayne household.

Damian had tried to challenge Danny to a duel. Danny had humored him, letting the kid think he had the upper hand before phasing through the ground and appearing behind him.

“You fight well,” Damian had admitted begrudgingly. “For a ghost.”

Then there was Barbara, who had grilled Danny about his intentions for Cass as if he were under FBI interrogation. Stephanie had just winked at Cass and told her to “have fun with the hot ghost boy.”

And then there was Tim.

Tim Drake had, in true detective fashion, locked eyes with Danny and said, “If you break her heart, I will find a way to exorcise you.”

Danny had gulped.

Despite the Bat family’s initial hesitation, they eventually warmed up to him (or at least tolerated him). Cass was happy, and that was all that mattered.

As for Sam? Well… she had made her choice. And Danny had made his.

“Ready?” Cass asked, standing on the edge of a rooftop, waiting for him to join her.

Danny smiled, taking her hand before they leapt into the Gotham night. “Always.”

[1980shorrorfilm]

every road i know

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.

[jenanigans1207]

“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.

[queenshelby]

A Little Help (One Shot)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Virgin Reader

Warning: Smut

The summer sun beats down on the white sandy beach, a stark contrast to the cool, crisp air inside the beach house.

You sit on the plush sofa, legs tucked under your body, nursing a cold beer, trying to calm the storm brewing within.

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of emotions, and now, being here at Max's family beach house, away from the comfort of your own home, the tension between you and Max feels even more palpable.

              You'd been so excited for this trip, imagining romantic walks on the beach, cozy movie nights, and finally, the perfect opportunity to take your relationship with Max to the next level. But now, as you sip your drink, you can't help but feel a sense of dread. The memory of the previous night's failed attempt at intimacy still stings.

              Max had been eager, his hands exploring your body with a sense of urgency that left little room for your pleasure. He'd tried to push past your barriers, both physical and emotional, and when the pain became too much, he'd pulled away, frustration evident on his face. "It's not me, it's you," he'd said, his voice laced with accusation. "There must be something wrong with you."

              Those words had cut deep, and now, as you sit in the beach house, you can't shake the feeling of embarrassment and hurt. You knew Max's family well, having been friends with him for years, but this new dynamic between you and Max was uncharted territory.

              Just as you take another sip, trying to gather your thoughts, the sound of the front door opening startles you. It's Cillian, Max's dad, returning from his morning jog. His lean figure fills the doorway, and his bright blue eyes scan the room until they land on you.

              "Hey, there you are," he says, his voice warm and inviting. "I thought I heard someone in here. How’s everything going?"

              You manage a weak smile, setting your drink down. "Oh, hi, Cillian. I'm okay, I guess. Just enjoying the peace before everyone wakes up."

              Cillian steps into the room, closing the door behind him. "Peace is good," he says, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studies your face. "But something tells me there's more to it. You've been a bit quiet since you arrived. Is everything alright between you and Max?"

              You feel your cheeks warm under his gaze. How could Cillian sense the tension so easily? You clear your throat, looking down at your hands. "It's just... things are a bit weird at the moment. Max and I... we had a bit of a disagreement."

              "A disagreement, huh?" Cillian sits beside you, his casual demeanour making it easy to forget the age gap between you. "About what, if you don't mind me asking? I'm not one to pry, but I can't help but notice something's off."

              You take a deep breath, the cool air filling your lungs. Here you were, about to confess your intimate struggles to Max's father. "It's... it's about sex," you blurt out, the words rushing out before you can stop them. You feel your face heat up, and you're certain your cheeks are now the colour of ripe tomatoes. You immediately regret what you had just said, and you have absolutely no intention to talk with your boyfriend’s father about intimacy.

Cillian, however, already knows about the problem. His son had mentioned something like this to him before and Cillian had given him a lecture to be more considerate,

              Thus, Cillian's eyebrows shoot up, but he remains composed. "Sex, huh? Well, that's... quite the topic,” he says, swallowing harshly before, reluctantly, adding  “I assume this is about your first time?"

              You nod, feeling a mix of relief and embarrassment as you confess. "It's just not working. I mean, we've tried, but it hurts. A lot. And Max, he gets frustrated, and he said it's my fault, that I must have some kind of problem."

              "Oh Y/N. I am sorry," Cillian says, his voice gentle. "That's not right. Max should know better. It's not your fault. First times can be tricky, and it's not uncommon for it to be a little uncomfortable. But it should never be painful."

              His words are like a soothing balm to your wounded pride. You find yourself wanting to tell him everything, to seek his guidance and understanding. "It's not just the first time. We've tried a few times now, and it's always the same. I can't relax, and it just won't fit. I've even tried by myself, but it's no use."

              Cillian's eyes widen slightly as he takes a seat next to you and leans back, considering your words. "Max needs to learn some patience, that's for sure. And he should be doing more to make sure you're ready. It's not just about him, you know."

              You nod, feeling a surge of validation. "That's what I thought, too. But he just gets so... frustrated. And I feel like I'm letting him down."

              "Nonsense," Cillian says firmly. "Max is just young, and he's got a lot to learn at that age, but that’s no excuse and you need to know that it is never your job to please him at the expense of your own comfort."

              His words resonate with you, and you feel a weight lift from your shoulders. Cillian's understanding and support are like a breath of fresh air.

              "I wish I could talk to Max like this," you say, a hint of frustration creeping into your voice. "He just doesn't seem to get it."

              Cillian chuckles, a deep, warm sound. "Max is a good kid, but he's still learning. And sometimes, we all need a little guidance. I'd be happy to have a chat with him, if you'd like. Set him straight on a few things."

              You consider his offer, the thought of Cillian talking to Max about sex both amusing and comforting. "Oh god no… I mean, it's a bit awkward, isn't it?”

              "Yeah, maybe," Cillian agrees before thinking about something else. “But, look, why don't we do this? I'll have a word with Max, without mentioning our little talk and see if I can get through to him. In the meantime, why don't we work on helping you relax and enjoy yourself? No pressure, just some friendly guidance."

              You look at Cillian, his eyes sparkling with kindness, and you feel a surge of trust. "You mean, you and me, uhm…trying?” you stammer and Cillian nods reluctantly.

“Sure, I mean, I do have some experience. But no pressure, alright?” he says, a warm smile spreading across his face. "I'd do anything to help my son's girlfriend, especially one as lovely as you. And besides, I remember what it was like when I was his age. A little guidance would've gone a long way."

              The idea of Cillian helping you sends a shiver down your spine, but it's not an unpleasant sensation. You trust him, and the thought of learning from him, of being guided by his experience, is strangely enticing.

              "Alright," you agree, a sense of determination building within you. "I'd like that. I want to enjoy this, and I want Max to understand. Maybe then we can really make this work."

"I think we will be able to, although this needs to stay our little  secret, right?" Cillian says, his voice low and reassuring. "I won't tell Max, and you won't either."

You nod, agreeing to his terms. "Okay, I can do that. I just want this to work and I want to enjoy it."

Cillian smiles, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Good, good. So how about this? I will meet you at the guestroom tonight, at around 11?"  Cillian asks, standing up and stretching his lean, muscular frame. The setting sun casts a warm glow over his short grey hair, making him look even more approachable and kind.

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. "Okay, that sounds good. I'll be ready."

Cillian smiles, a reassuring and gentle smile. "Great. And remember, no pressure. We'll take this at your pace. I just want you to feel comfortable and enjoy yourself."

You return his smile, feeling a sense of relief and anticipation. "Thank you, Cillian. I will see you tonight, " you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness as you watch Cillian walk away, his shoulders and confident stride leaving you with a sense of security. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. You know that tonight is going to be different, and you're ready to take this step.

At 11 o'clock on the dot , you make your way to the guestroom, your heart pounding in your chest like a drum. The room is dimly lit, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting long shadows across the floor.

Cillian is already there, sitting on the edge of the bed, his back straight and his eyes fixed on you as you enter. He's changed into a simple t-shirt and a pair of jeans that hug his muscular thighs. 

"Hey," he says, his voice low and gentle. "You ready for this?"

You nod, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I think so. I want to try, at least."

Cillian smiles encouragingly, patting the bed beside him. "Good. Come here, sit with me."

You walk over and sit down, your body tense and nervous. Cillian puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. His touch is warm and comforting, and you can feel your muscles begin to relax.

"First thing we need to do is get you comfortable," Cillian says, his voice low and soothing. "We're not going to rush anything, alright? We'll take this slow."

You nod, leaning into his touch.

His arm around you feels natural, and you can't help but feel safe with him. Cillian's fingers gently stroke your shoulder, sending shivers down your spine.

"That's it, just relax," he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. "There's no rush. We've got all night."

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. Cillian's hand moves to your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His eyes are soft and reassuring, and you feel a flutter in your stomach. He leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle kiss. It's soft and tender, a stark contrast to the urgency you've felt with Max.

Cillian's kiss is patient, his lips moving gently against yours, coaxing a response from you. You part your lips slightly, and his tongue slips inside, exploring your mouth with a slow, deliberate pace. You can taste the faint hint of mint on his breath, and it's strangely comforting.

His hand moves from your chin to your neck, his fingers gently caressing the sensitive skin. You can feel your heart racing, your breath coming in short gasps as his touch sends waves of heat through your body. Cillian pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. When he finds none, he smiles softly and leans in again, this time deepening the kiss.

His tongue explores your mouth, dancing with yours in a slow, sensual rhythm. You can feel your body responding, your nipples hardening beneath your thin t-shirt. Cillian's hand moves from your neck to your breast, his thumb brushing against your hardened nipple through the fabric. You gasp into his mouth, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

"Is this okay?" he murmurs against your lips, his voice husky with desire. You nod, your voice barely a whisper.

"Yes, it's okay. It's more than okay," you whimper. 

Encouraged, Cillian's hand moves to the hem of your shirt, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin just above your waistband.

You shiver at his touch, your body aching for more. He pulls back slightly, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly lifts your shirt over your head, exposing your bare breasts to his hungry gaze.

"You're beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Absolutely fucking stunning."

You feel a blush creep up your cheeks at his words, but the heat in his eyes makes you feel desired, wanted. Cillian leans in, his mouth capturing one of your nipples, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. You gasp, your back arching off the bed as pleasure courses through you.

Cillian's mouth is hot and wet, his tongue flicking against your nipple, sending jolts of electricity straight to your clit. He takes his time, lavishing attention on one breast before moving to the other, his fingers gently teasing and pinching your neglected nipple.

"That feels nice," you whisper, your voice barely audible, as you arch your back, pushing your breasts further into his mouth. He smiles against your skin, the vibration sending a shiver down your spine.

"Good, I am glad,"  he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Now why don't you lie down for me,"  he instructs, his tone gentle but firm. He wants you to be comfortable, and he wants to see you sprawled out in front of him.

You do as he says, your heart pounding in your chest as you lie back on the soft bed, your body tense with anticipation. Cillian's eyes roam over your body, taking in every curve and line, and you can feel his gaze like a physical touch, sending shivers down your spine.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "I want to taste every inch of you."

You shiver at his words, your body aching for his touch.

He leans down, his breath hot on your skin as he trails kisses down your stomach, his hands gently caressing your sides. You can feel his fingers tracing the waistband of your shorts, and you arch your back, silently begging for more.

Cillian hooks his fingers into your waistband, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly pulls them down, revealing your bare pussy to his hungry gaze. You can feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but the heat in his eyes makes you feel desired, wanted.

"You have no idea how fucking beautiful you are," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "And I really want to taste you."

"Taste me?" you whisper, your voice barely audible as you look at Cillian. "I... I've never done that before."

Cillian smiles reassuringly, his fingers gently tracing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. "It's okay. It will feel good. I promise." 

You nod, taking a deep breath as you try to relax. Cillian's touch is gentle yet firm, his fingers teasing your skin, sending waves of heat through your body.

"Now spread your legs for me, okay? Let me see that pretty little pussy of yours," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding.

You hesitate for a moment, feeling a rush of embarrassment, but the intensity in his eyes makes you feel safe. You slowly part your legs, exposing yourself to him fully. Cillian's gaze locks onto your most intimate area, and you can see the hunger in his eyes.

"Fuck, you’re gorgeous," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "I could look at you all day."

You blush at his words, but the heat in his eyes makes you feel beautiful, desired. He leans in, his breath hot on your inner thigh, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest, anticipation coursing through your veins.

He starts at your knee, his lips pressing soft, gentle kisses up your thigh, his stubble rough against your soft skin. You can feel your breath hitching in your throat, your body tensing with each kiss, each touch.

Cillian's lips are warm and wet, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin, sending shivers down your spine. He takes his time, exploring every inch of your inner thigh, his stubble rough against your soft skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

You can feel the heat building between your legs, your pussy aching with need. Cillian's eyes flick up to meet yours, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he sees the desire written all over your face. He leans in closer, his breath hot on your pussy, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest, anticipation coursing through your veins.

Cillian's eyes meet yours, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he sees the desire written all over your face. He leans in, his tongue flicking out to taste your clit, and you gasp, your back arching off the bed as pleasure courses through you.

"Ssh, it's okay , I got you" he murmurs, his voice low and husky. He takes his time, exploring every inch of your pussy, his tongue flicking against your clit, sending jolts of electricity straight to your core. You can feel your body responding, your hips bucking against his mouth as he eats you out. 

Cillian's fingers gently part your folds, his tongue delving deeper, tasting your wetness. He looks up at you, his eyes locked on yours as he slides one finger inside you, his tongue continuing to work its magic on your clit.

"Is that okay?" he asks as he slides it in slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. You nod, biting your lip as a soft moan escapes you. He adds another finger, stretching you gently, his tongue still working your clit in a relentless rhythm. You can feel your body responding, your hips bucking against his hand as he fingers you expertly.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "I love how your pussy tastes and you are so tight and warm. I could eat you out all night."

You moan, your body writhing beneath him as he continues to finger you, his tongue circling your clit with expert precision.

The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that leaves you gasping for air. You can feel your orgasm building, your body tensing as Cillian's fingers curl inside you, hitting that sweet spot that sends waves of pleasure crashing through you.

"Cillian," you gasp, your voice barely recognizable as your own. "I'm close. I'm so close."

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "That's it, come for me, baby. Let me see that pretty little pussy come all over my fingers."

His words are filthy, obscene, and they send you spiralling over the edge.

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash over you. Cillian's fingers are relentless, drawing out your orgasm until you're a trembling, gasping mess. He pulls his fingers out slowly, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he sucks them clean, his eyes never leaving yours.

"That was fucking beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "But we're not done yet, are we?"

You shake your head, your body still trembling with the aftermath of your orgasm. "No, we're not," you whisper, your voice barely audible. You want more. You need more.

You need him. You need to feel him inside you, filling you, stretching you. You need to experience the raw, primal connection that you've been craving. 

"Alright," he says, his voice low and husky as he quickly undresses. "Let's take this slow, okay? I want to make sure you're comfortable every step of the way."

You nod, your breath coming in short gasps as you watch him, his cock springing free from his jeans. You can see the thick, hard length of him, the head glistening with a drop of pre-cum. Your eyes widen slightly, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you. 

"I don't think it will fit. I have never been able to do it before" you say, your voice barely above a whisper. Cillian smiles softly, his eyes filled with reassurance.

"Trust me, we'll take it slow. I won't hurt you. I promise," he says. and you nod, taking a deep breath as you try to relax. 

"Are you on the pill ?" he asks, his voice low and husky as he climbs onto the bed, his body hovering over yours.

You nod again, your voice barely a whisper. "Yes, I am," you say, causing him to smile.

"Good, because it will feel nicer for you  that way, and I really want to feel your wet pussy around me.

Cillian reaches out, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. "I'm going to go slow, okay? If it hurts, you tell me, and we'll stop. No pressure, no rush."

You nod, feeling a sense of relief and trust. "Okay, I trust you."

Cillian leans down, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender kiss. His tongue gently probes your mouth, and you open for him, letting him explore at his leisure.

His body is warm and hard against yours, and you can feel the thick length of his cock pressing against your thigh, hot and insistent. You reach down, tentative fingers wrapping around his shaft, and Cillian groans into your mouth, his hips jerking slightly at your touch.

His cock is thick and hard, the skin soft and velvety, and you can feel the pulse of his heartbeat beneath your fingers. You stroke him gently, your hand moving from the base to the tip, spreading the bead of pre-cum that has gathered there. Cillian's breath hitches, and he pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with desire.

"Fuck, that feels good," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "But not as good as it's going to feel inside you."

You feel a rush of heat at his words, your body aching with need. You guide him towards your entrance, his cock hot and hard against your thigh. Cillian takes over, positioning himself at your entrance, his eyes locked on yours.

" Just relax, okay?" he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring. "I promise I won't hurt you."

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you feel the head of his cock press against you. He's big, and the sensation is intense, but the look in his eyes is one of pure tenderness and patience.

He starts to push in slowly, his hips moving in a gentle, rhythmic motion. 

"Is  that okay?" he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Are you alright?" You can feel him stretching you as part of him slides in, and you gasp, your eyes widening slightly. He stops, his body tense, waiting for your response. You nod, your breath coming in short gasps.

He could feel your barrier now and he knew he had to be careful. He whispered, "You are so fucking tight, I don't want to hurt you." He pulls back slightly, his cock still poised at your entrance, and you feel a rush of disappointment. But he's not stopping; he's just giving you a moment to adjust before slowly pushing the tip back in.

You feel the pressure, the stretch, and you can't help but tense up. Cillian notices immediately. He leans down, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot on your face.

"Relax, baby. I promise, I won't hurt you. Just breathe. And if it gets too much, you tell me, okay?" he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your nerves.

You nod, taking a deep breath and trying to relax your body. Cillian begins to move again, his hips gently pushing forward, inch by inch. You can feel him stretching you, filling you in a way you've never experienced before.

He pushed against your hymen now , a thin layer of skin that would soon be gone. He was taking his time, though, and he was being so gentle with you, that you found yourself relaxing, and pushing your hips forward, wanting more of him, wanting the pain to be over and done with.

"Oh, fuck," you gasp, your voice barely recognizable as your own. "You're so big, Cillian. It feels... it feels like a lot."

He pauses, his body tensed, his cock poised at your entrance, and you can see the concern in his eyes. "Do you want me to stop?" he asks, his voice strained with restraint. "We can stop if you need to. I don't want to hurt you."

You shake your head, your voice barely a whisper. "No, don't stop. I... I want this. I want you. Just go slow, okay?"

Cillian nods, a determined look in his eyes. "I promise, I'll go slow. Just relax and let me do the work. And if it hurts, we stop, no questions asked. Okay?"

You nod, taking a deep breath as you try to relax.

Cillian begins to move again, his hips pushing forward with a gentle, steady pressure. You can feel the head of his cock stretching you, the sensation intense and overwhelming. He pauses, his eyes locked on yours, waiting for your reaction.

"You're doing so well, baby," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Just relax and let me in."

You take another deep breath, trying to relax your body, and he pushes a little further, the head of his cock slipping inside you. You gasp, the sensation of being filled so intensely sending a jolt of pain mixed with pleasure through your body.

"That's it," he whispers, his voice a soothing balm to your nerves as he slides in more until, finally, he pushed past your hymen, his cock now fully sheathed inside you. "Fuck, you feel so tight and warm, baby. So perfect."

You take a moment to adjust, your body tensing around him as you feel the full extent of his length and girth inside you. Cillian remains still, his eyes locked on yours, waiting for your signal to continue. You can feel the stretch, the burn, but there's also a deep, primal satisfaction in having him inside you, filling you completely.

"Okay," you whisper, your voice barely audible. "I'm ready. Go slow."

Cillian nods, a reassuring smile on his lips.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "I'm going to move now, okay? Just tell me if it's too much."

You nod, your breath hitching in your throat as you feel him begin to move. He starts with slow, gentle thrusts, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm. You can feel every inch of him sliding in and out of you, the sensation intense and overwhelming. His eyes are locked on yours, watching your every reaction, ensuring your comfort and pleasure.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," he groans, his voice strained with restraint as you dug your nails into his back. "So tight and wet. I could stay like this forever."

You gasp, your body tensing as he pulls out slightly before pushing back in, his cock stretching you, filling you completely. The sensation is intense, a mix of pleasure and pain that leaves you breathless.

"More," you whisper, your voice barely audible as you wrap your legs around his waist, urging him deeper. "I want more."

Cillian groans, his hips picking up speed, his cock sliding in and out of you with increasing intensity. You can feel every inch of him, the thick head of his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body.

Cillian's hips move with a steady, relentless rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease now that you're so wet and ready for him.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he groans, his voice low and husky. "I can feel your pussy gripping my cock like a vice. It's so fucking good."

You moan, your body writhing beneath him as he continues to pound into you. You can feel your orgasm building, your body tensing as he hits that spot over and over again.

He looks down at you, his eyes dark with desire, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "Let me feel that pretty little pussy come all over my cock," he says and his cock is relentless now until you come.

"Oh my god, yes!" you  cry out, your voice raw and desperate. "Don't stop, Cillian. Please, don't fucking stop."

Cillian's eyes flash with heat, his hips moving faster, his cock pounding into you with a force that steals your breath. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, a primal, obscene symphony that only serves to heighten your arousal.

Your orgasm hits you like  a tidal wave, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash over you. Your inner muscles clench around Cillian's cock, milking him, urging him deeper until, finally, he too could not hold on any longer. 

He groans, a deep, primal sound that vibrates through his chest and into yours, as he begins to cum, his cock pulsing inside you, filling you with his hot, sticky seed. The sensation of him coming inside you sends you spiraling over the edge once more, your body convulsing as another orgasm tears through you.

"Fuck, yes," Cillian groans, his voice low and husky as he collapses onto you, his body slick with sweat, his cock still throbbing inside you. 

You can feel his heart pounding against your chest, his breath hot on your neck as he pants, trying to catch his breath.

His cock is still hard inside you, pulsing with the aftershocks of his orgasm, and you can feel his seed leaking out of you, coating your thighs. The sensation is filthy, obscene, and incredibly arousing.

"Fuck, that was... intense," Cillian murmurs, his voice low and husky as he finally pulls out of you, his cock glistening with your combined fluids. You feel a rush of emptiness, a longing for him to be back inside you, filling you completely.

He smiles down at you, his eyes soft and tender despite the raw, primal way he just took you. "Are you okay?" he asks, his voice laced with concern.

You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips as you reach up to cup his cheek, feeling the rough stubble against your palm. "I'm more than okay. That was... amazing. Thank you, Cillian."

He leans down, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender kiss. "You're welcome, beautiful. I'm glad you enjoyed it. And I'm glad I could help you feel good."

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22 @meadows5 @randomcreator-09 @hagarsays @kikimurphys

[lieslab]

Why is it that your love is like loneliness?

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Hyunjin X gn reader

Summary: Your roommate asks you to be his while unaware of just how much the past has warped your view of love.

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 3K

Trigger warning: Self-insecurities and fear of being loved/loving someone.

A/N: I hope you've missed angst because I acquired some of it for this. I assume Hyunjin wrote Quill Pen with hurt in his heart. Inspired by that and the deep-seeded terror that I will destroy everything I invest my heart into, good luck with this one!! <3

_ _ _

And you left him. You turned your back on his smile and hope-filled eyes. You spun around and rushed away because facing the weight of Hyunjin’s words was too much to process in front of him. How could you describe the truth of it all at once? 

You knew you were an asshole for running, but you couldn’t stand the thought of him seeing your tears. If he saw your tears, he’d realize who you really were; a lost coward. Holes riddled the personality you’d put on each morning. You carefully crafted it just for him, but you never thought it’d lead to a cafe confession; a full declaration of his indulgence and undying love for you. 

With your hands wrapped tight around your favorite drink, he offered you an ideal future with an outstretched hand. An understanding, a chance for growth, a supportive romantic relationship; everything a person should want. 

The scent of coffee beans had been comforting until that point. An eager bouncing knee and flushed cheeks; you should have known the signs. You should have picked up on them weeks ago. His love sprouted for you between the calm hours of the night and the quiet conversations. 

It crept upon him, not suddenly, but like the spring creeping into summer. His body grew warm, his back straightened, and suddenly every love song was about you. The finger taps along his steering wheel and his cheery whistles; all your fault. 

The two of you had been friends and then became roommates. You never saw Hyunjin as a potential romantic partner. You didn’t see anyone that way. You loved him, but not like the picture he’d painted in his head. 

The future was full of colors with you. Dustings of bright blue skies and hues of green grass. An oil painting where two rabbits leaped over grass mounds dotted with bright dandelions. The birds sang and harmonized. Bees pollinated more and more flowers, more growth, more life, and more happiness. 

In your head, it was the void. The future? Why would you plunge your thoughts ahead when tomorrow was hard enough as it was? A future with Hyunjin? How could he really love you? 

How could anyone see you through the dark haze above your head? Self-hatred corrupted your eyes. Every glance in the mirror, your flaws defined you. You were created via a book of a fallen god. Your sins weighed you down and no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t see the good that Hyunjin proclaimed you had. 

Rot coated your flesh and why couldn’t he see that? Why couldn’t he see you for what you were? Some lost child in a grown body. Playing pretend. Playing dress up. Lost in the illusion of adulthood, you didn’t know who you were. That’s what happens when you grow up never knowing. 

You think you know yourself and suddenly the years spiral by. Life is like an unmanageable fish at the end of a fishing pole. No matter how much you tried to reel in your thoughts and the events, life kept pulling. Your forearms ached and your back hurt from being dragged along the edge of the boat. When would you finally feel the relief of dropping back into the boat and catch the fish?

Your phone buzzed rapidly in your back pocket. No doubt, Hyunjin was messaging you or attempting to call you. You didn’t answer and you wouldn’t. The two of you were supposed to be mere roommates. Maybe best friends, but nothing more. 

You drifted through the crowd of people downtown. Murmurs passed, but nobody paid attention to the person with their head down. Head down, neck craned, arms cradled around themselves. A visual embodiment to the world that you weren’t comfortable with yourself in any way, shape, or form. 

Hyunjin got up, grabbing his drink and the one you left behind. He maneuvered through the crowd and tried to ignore the look of pity from a customer that heard the entire interaction. Outside, he looked left and he looked right. 

He spent so long planning today. Everything, including the weather, was right. The one thing he didn’t understand was you. Every laugh, every smile, every joke. Did he write the story wrong? Did he skip the plot just to focus on the ending? 

The small copper bell on top of the door dinged and swung shut behind him. Across the way, he glimpsed you and took off in that direction. He frantically apologized and excused himself after bumping into strangers. 

The closer he moved towards you, the further away you became. He could still see your hunched-up figure here. He called after you again and again and again. When you finally stopped, you stopped along a grassy path by the Han River. 

A flock of white ducks drifted down the river. Two cranes took residence a couple meters down. Beady eyes glanced over at Hyunjin’s call, but they quickly reverted to their bug investigation. 

“I’m sorry,” he uttered breathlessly. “I-I didn’t mean to spring it upon you like that, I-” He sucked in a wheeze. 

“Why are you apologizing? I was the one who ran off. I should be the one apologizing to you.” Your soft whisper broke his heart. 

“I asked because I thought we had something. I thought I was reading the situation correctly. If I would have known that you-” 

“I do like you like that.” 

“I never should have asked and…” His face softened. “You do?” He stepped forward to hear you better. You were speaking so quietly, like you were afraid to disrupt the sound barrier. 

“Of course, I love you, you idiot. You’re so stupid, you know?” Tears pricked in your eyes. Swiping at them, you sniffled. “You weren’t supposed to fall in love with me. I’ll destroy you. You’re supposed to fall in love with someone who actually has redeeming qualities.” 

Your words hurt him, but unexpectedly. He stepped in front of you, forcing himself into your line of sight. “What do you mean? You don’t think you have redeeming qualities?” 

A bitter laugh fell from your throat. Your hair wildly shook with a headshake. Tenderness clutched your heart and your system flooded with the first wave of defense. “How could you?” 

“You’re smart, Hyunjin. You’re talented, you’re attractive, and you’re everything an ideal man should be. Determined, strong, and not afraid to put effort into your dreams.” 

“What are you saying?” 

“There’s a reason you’ve always been the better roommate. Life's game: You understand life's game and you know how to play it. You don’t cower from love, you chase it. You look for love in everyone and everything. Have you seen me, Hyunjin, have you truly seen me? I can't love anyone as they deserve to be loved.

His eyes narrowed and his head shook. “Nonsense! That’s not true! You can’t possibly believe that, can you? You think you’re unlovable?” 

“Worse. I avoid it like the plague. I don’t know how to love anyone. I curl away from physical affection. I don’t know how to rely on people. I don’t–I don’t know how to trust!” You threw up your hands. “How do I trust someone if I can’t trust myself, huh?” 

Hurt squeezed from your soul as your voice raised. “I don't understand how to love you meaningfully! I don’t know how to say ‘I love you’ because the words are foreign to my tongue. I don’t know how to love and how to trust.” 

“You know how to love. You do it the same way you always do. I wouldn’t ask you to change and you know that. I don’t want anything different from who you already are.” 

“I want the crude nicknames that you give me. I want your smile and I want more late-night conversations. I want to hold you and I want to keep you captive in the palm of my hand.” 

“Somewhere safe and warm. Somewhere where the world can’t harm you and you can be untouchable. I want you to experience love, far more than what I do for you already. I-” 

“And what if I dare to say I don’t want that?” 

“You don’t mean that.” 

“I-I do,” you croaked. Tears slipped down your waterline and soaked the apples of your cheeks. I don't want anyone to love or care for me. I don’t want to rely on someone and get hurt again.” 

There it was. You had kept that bombshell hidden in your heart. You harbored resentment and it built in your heart; an awaiting bomb that Hyunjin just detonated without warning. 

A sharp knife sliced his heart clean in two. How could anyone destroy someone as precious as you? What happened in your life that destroyed you so much, it left you feeling like this was your only choice?

“I’m sorry.” The words came out in a broken whimper. “I’m sorry, but you have to find someone else. I can’t do this with you, Hyunjin. I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not.” 

When was the last time that you called him by his first name so much? What happened to the offensive and endearing pet names? Idiot. Asshole. Dipshit. Fuckwad. Any of those were better than the sound of his name coming from your mouth. 

His name was too formal. That’s what strangers called him. Colleagues. Acquaintances hoping to be something more. It’s not what close friends called close friends. Even a shortened version of his name would have been better than just Hyunjin. 

He liked his name, but at that moment, you poisoned it with something that left a sour taste filling his mouth. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to hear it the same way again. Your walls were up and your brain was on a lockdown. Someone was inching too close for comfort and your default was to self-destruct. 

“I’m not asking you to be someone you’re not. I’m asking you to be you. I’m asking you to stay the same and take a chance. We’ll take it slow, if you want to. Please don’t choose the path of alienation for this whole life. Don’t pick isolation.” 

“I don’t know how to accept love. I don’t know how to do it. I don’t understand being vulnerable and taking the risk of showing someone my heart. Is it wrong to pick safety and security?” 

“Is it wrong to choose love as a path of resistance?” 

His words hit like a wrecking ball. His familiar facial features blurred among your tears. Condensation leaked from the beverages in his hands. Fear enclosed your tender heart. Anxiety’s sharp nails clawed in the darkness of your stomach. 

“I’m so afraid of fucking it up. I don’t want to do it wrong. What if I say or do the wrong thing? What if you figure out I’m unlovable?” 

“What if I show you that you are? What if I prove that it’s okay to let someone bypass the security measures you put up? If I do everything right and I promise to do whatever it takes not to hurt you?” 

He spoke in pools of warm honey. Sweet. Soft. Sultry. A siren in human form and he was luring you overboard. The depths below became tempting. You teetered on a rail overhead with the world watching. 

Fall and take a chance to be loved. To find love. To heal wounds that ripped open a long time ago. Take the risk or stay on the boat. Captain it alone. Navigate the frigid and icy waters by yourself. Nobody to share warmth or take comfort in. Nothing besides the empty waves and the depressing echoes of lonely whales beneath the wooden hull. 

It terrified you and paralyzed you, but deep down, this was Hyunjin. The same guy you stayed up late talking to. The one you watched movies with on Friday evenings. Too many times, the two of you curled up on the couch’s opposite ends and fell fast asleep. 

You hated to admit that you knew he wasn’t lying about loving you. It’s embedded in his every action. The wool blanket thrown over you when you woke up on Saturday mornings. It was the souvenirs he brought back from his travels. Each one, he grabbed them because they reminded him of you in the spur of a moment. 

It’s laced in the instant Ramen he made for you while you were on your way home from work. Too many nights, you stayed over your usual allotted schedule. He did whatever he could to ease the burden of working more hours. Even when he himself had to stay over at his company, it didn’t stop him from ordering takeout and having it delivered to the apartment for you. 

Someone had to take care of you. He decided it’d be him a long time ago. Whether you wanted it or not, even if it wasn’t a romantic relationship, he planned on being there. He vowed to be by your side for a long, long time. 

“Why?” Your words were shrill and barely audible. “Why do you care about me so much?” 

“Because I love you.” 

“I’m damaged.” 

“Love can’t cure you of that. It won’t always take away those self-pitying thoughts. It might not stop that voice in your head that weighs you down. You know what love can do? It can carry you through everything, if you let it.” 

He leaned his head closer to yours, hoping you could see the genuine sincerity in his eyes. “Love is patient. Love is kind. You could describe it in a thousand different ways. Yes, sometimes it does hurt, but I’ve learned that it’s always there if you look hard enough.” 

“It can come back to you. It’s not perfect, but if you’re willing, it can keep you company. Love makes me feel safe and wanted. It clears away the cobwebs of my self-doubt. It challenges me and it keeps my head above water. It’s not perfect, but nothing in this life is.” 

His heart poured between the lazy blue waves of the Han River. Despite the squawking gull in the distance, he continued his confessional anyway. The sun cast a golden halo around his head. 

The thick layer of ice around your heart melted. Your initial reaction was to run away again. Leave it all behind and take off. Pack up the things in your shared apartment, block his number, and never see him again. 

“But I’m scared.” 

“And that doesn’t change my feelings. You don’t think I’m not?” He laughed and took a step back. “Look at how pathetic I look.” He shifted the beverages. Condensation soaked his hands and dripped onto the velvet of his long sleeve shirt. “Love confessions are pretty silly, aren’t they?” 

“Just yours.” 

He shook his head, but a playful smile was on his face. As you stared at him, you wanted the world to stop. Your teeth bit into the warmth of your lip. It did. The world stopped, at least, yours did. 

Looking at him in a new light, you felt stronger and more capable. Pinpricks of excitement tickled the underbelly of your heart. Deep down, what if it could be? What if this was the one thing that you were supposed to conquer in this life? 

What if love wasn’t supposed to be some romantic and sappy thing? What if it’s riddled with aggressive pet names, playful bullying, and silent actions full of support? Did it have to be so big and grand? So large and a constant show-off on social media? Proof of your existence and cemented proof that you were lovable? 

“I don’t think I know what genuine love is,” you finally admitted. “I’m terrified of fucking it all up. I don’t want you to hate me.” 

“We can learn together with baby steps. Just because I’m admitting it, it doesn’t mean I know how to love either. I read a lot of books and watch too much anime.” 

“You’re a fraud, Mr. Hwang. You’re an idiot. Who asks someone out when they’re just as clueless?” 

He scoffed, but the smile didn’t leave. He still loved your antics, even if this wasn’t the ideal time for them. You were a mosaic of a hundred reasons that he chose love time and time again. 

“I could be your idiot.” 

“Cheesy off the bat?” 

“I don’t know what I’m doing, remember?” 

“Where do we start?” 

“We could start with a hug.” He shrugged and held up his beverage-filled hands. “It doesn’t have to last forever. When was the last time we hugged, anyway?” 

“I don’t think we ever have.” 

His arms remained outstretched. He didn’t rush you or force you to take the first step. Instead, he remained a few steps back with his arms outstretched. Like a spooked deer, he waited for you to make the first move. 

Your body hesitated. Your brain screeched with loud alarms. What if you became hurt again? What if it all imploded? What if what once was became what you once had?

You stepped forward with caution. Arms looped around his rib cage. His arms returned the gesture. Warmth. A foreign confusion. Something unknown flickered in your heart. Butterflies replaced the claws in your stomach. 

You waited and waited for him to pull away, but he didn’t. When you realized he was waiting for you to act first, it startled you. You jerked back with wide eyes and blinked a few times. 

“So how was it?” 

“You smell like iced americano and that stupid soap that smells like the woods.” 

He grinned, “I’ll take that it means you like it.” 

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks shined a rosy red. Sunlight wasn’t the only thing lighting up your eyes. A new flicker, a longing, and a comfort appeared. He didn’t mind your teasing and your jokes. 

“So, are we dating?”

You shrugged, “I guess.” 

An abused dog always keeps its loud bark, sometimes they bite, too; but with the right person, they can always find a new home. 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @danihwang882 @inlovewithstraykids

Masterlist

Taglist and inbox rules

Ko-fi

[nemisuki]

Stay By Me

Synopsis || When the crowded trains are the worst part of their date, or so he thought... maybe they aren't so bad after all.

᧔o᧓ || katsuki bakugo x f!reader, she/her pronouns, fluff, no smut or angst, physical touch, protective bkg, clumsy reader, aged up to seniors, dating au, short fluff oneshot, silly moments, he’s just a lil guy, 601 word count

The sound of closing doors echoed throughout the cart, the confined space being filled with its bustling passengers of all ages and sizes.

Perhaps choosing to go on a date on the weekend wasn't the smartest idea for a couple such as themselves, who much prefer a quiet ambience.

"Tch, so many damn extras."

His attitude is visible towards those unfortunate enough to accidentally make eye contact with him, his signature scowl so intimidating that they avert their gazes elsewhere.

"We only have a few stops, don't worry!"

She softly hums at the music vibrating in her headphones as the train slowly begins leaving the station.

He grunts in response to her words, already looking up at the sign for the number of stops left, his patience already thinning out.

The cart sways back and forth as it descends out the tunnel, rays of sunlight creeping through the glass and lighting up the interior of the train.

The soft melody heard through his single earbud — courtesy of their joint playlist the lovebirds are listening too right now — only adds to the serene beauty of the sights outside.

As it shifts to the romantic chorus of the song, her gaze drifts up to his expressionless face, his eyes looking out towards the city below.

He is the epitome of perfection.

Her eyes soften as she studies the intricate facial features that make up that stunning look of a face, no shame whatsoever as she fights the urge to nibble on those puffy cheeks of his.

So it's no shocker when the blonde looks down at her, as if feeling the intense stare from his side.

"What?"

He raises a brow at her — complete confusion dawning upon him — and tilts his head to the side, urging her to explain.

And so she does.

"Nothing, just that you're really handsome Katsuki!"

The blonde gives her a deadpan expression — one that she's grown too familiar with these past couple of years to understand — its purpose to conceal his bashfulness under the stoic mask.

He scoffs with fake distaste at her compliment.

"I love you~" she mouths towards him, knowing he'd hate for anyone to hear her sappy words in public.

She's been around him enough to know — he feels the same, in his own ways of course, despite the way he rolls his eyes, causing her to bite back a knowing smile.

The peaceful scene comes to a halt however, when the cart gets a bit too wobbly for her liking.

She stumbles around like many other unsuspecting victims in the train and quickly tightens her hold on the pole, assuming the small scare was over.

But knowing her clumsy self is bound to fall any second now, he pulls her figure right into his chest, securing the girl by resting his arm over her shoulder and holding her close.

Her eyes slightly widened with shock, the familiar scent of his cologne invading her nostrils, warming her body instantaneously at the affectionate gesture.

He's usually not one for PDA.

At the same time, a cheesy part of the love song plays through her headphones, making her giggle at the cliche look of it all.

Given he's listening to the same song simultaneously beside her, he avoids her cheeky gaze and instead focuses on the view outside the window.

Though she saw it before he put on his aloof expression. A small smile — as he gives her shoulders a gentle squeeze, reminding her just how much he cares.

"If your showing PDA now then... perhaps a kiss-"

"Yeah not happening."

So much for a cliche ending...

✦ ⎯⎯⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨ masterlist || taglist || intro || socials ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⎯⎯ ✦

a/n ||| omg a new layout?! if ur a og follower then u probably noticed some changes on my account hehe. i made myself some new banners, headers and borders! i hope u guys like it bc it took lots of days to finish since i did it myself *sobs* also changed to colored dialogue bc that won in the last poll yippieee! btw this fic was inspired by the couple pic i used in the beginning which i found on pinterest! tags ||| @leleyro @zaiban2989 ໒꒰ྀི ´๑  ̫๑`  ꒱ྀིა

[rwrbficrecs]

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The Flight Before Christmas by @indomitable-love (book-verse)

@dot524: Alex is a flight attendant, and he’s good at what he does. But for some reason, this tall blond guy annoys the heck out of him. What will happen when they are both stranded in a snowstorm over the holiday and stuck sharing a hotel room? I’ll give you three guesses. This one had great banter and a dab of angst, and it was such a fun read!

If You're Not Made For Me (Why Did We Fall in Love?) by @captainjunglegym (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Not going to lie, this was a challenging read, which lingers long after! Henry and Alex are in an established relationship, so certain of their future together. Then they stumble over the question of having kids... What follows is messy and ugly, touching and relatable, almost destructive, but resovled in a very sensitive way. This hurt phenomenally good!

london's so nice, back in your seamless rhymes by @firenati0n (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Alex, newly moved to London, meets Henry on his first day of work while riding the bus into the city. From that day on, they commute together every morning and evening, and with each passing day, their feelings for each other grow. What can I say: it was soft, it was fluffy, it was so sweet. It was everything I needed to feel all warm and happy.

I'm a risk (please take it) by dazedandconfused (book-verse)

@na-dineee: A rom-com.' Yeah—my ass. But, Wikipedia says rom-coms focus on romantic relationships and the associated dramatic twists and obstacles. Fair enough, that fits. 3.5 years of pining, angst, hurt—but a happy ending. This fic was incredible !! I can’t stop thinking about it, weeks later I’m still imagining how Alex & Henry might be doing now. Absolutely brilliant!

kiss me on this cold December night by strwbrryfox (book/movie-verse)

@suseagull5914: If you like holiday fics and coffee shop AUs, this is the fic for you! This fic is oblivious Alex, pining firstprince, and the ins and outs of being part of a workplace environment during the holidays all wrapped up in a pretty bow that will leave you swooning.

Tell Me All Your Secrets by @everwitch-magiks (book-verse)

@dot524: Every time Alex visits his sister in NYC, he ends up hanging out with her best friend, Henry. Henry’s been gone on Alex from Day 1, but he assumed Alex was painfully straight. When a short-term relationship with Liam helps Henry realize that’s not the case, things start to change. The story culminates with Alex experiencing Pride in NYC for the first time. A delightful slow-burn with lots of yearning and realizations - such a satisfying and fun read.

I Will Follow You Into The Dark by @here-queer-jointpain-severe (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: This fic, the author's fic for the A Royal Big Bang event, has everything: introspection, fantasy, Alex going above and beyond for his love for Henry (as he should!), and the complex plot and suspense that will have you clicking the next chapter button until you reach the end. This fic is such a good glimpse into so many of the relationships in the book from such a unique angle!

Like Flowers In The Springtime, Every Day Is Valentine’s (That’s What Your Love’s Like) by @rockyroadkylers (book-verse)

@na-dineee: This has to be some of the fluffiest post-canon fluff ever written, I’m sure of it! After two years together, Henry is more than ready to sweep Alex off his feet in the most extravagant way possible. Of course he is over-the-top—what did you expect? And Alex, bless him, is completely here for it—he loves it and loves Henry, and I couldn’t help but melt into a puddle. An absolutely wonderful comfort read!

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

[radioisntdead]

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!

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?"

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!

[flowerxbunnie]

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

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.”

Tag list: @solarsturniolo @lustfulslxt @whotfisade @soursturniolo @recklesssturniolo @worldlxvlys @chrisolivia4l @kiarastromboli @mattnchrisworld @cupidsword @kvtie444 @xplrfear @knowingnothingnoel @karlybbx @chrisfavoritepepsi @mwah0mwah @starsturniolo @christinarowie332 @fionaheartswomen @angelic-sturniolos111 @mqttittude

[romana-after-dark]

Our Gentle Sins: Part 3 (formerly Be Quiet)

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

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.”

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!!!

[sreidisms]

Sweater Weather

Spencer Reid x Mid/Plussize!Fem!Reader

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 😙

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.

Need him to wear my sweaters, I swear 🤧

[cinnamostar]

five dates to fall in love

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 :)

[tomriddleslovergirl]

Marvel characters x oblivious!reader

Steve Rogers:

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

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

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."

[atlasthegreatest]

Unexpectedly Yours / Park Jihyo x Gender Neutral!Reader

Jihyo had no plans for Valentine’s Day—until she accidentally ended up on a date with someone she never considered before. Whether it’s a mistaken reservation or a last-minute invite, the night turns out to be far more romantic than she ever imagined.

Word count: 2557

Warnings: Strangers to lovers. Fluff. Nayeon playing cupid.

Valentine’s Day was just another date on the calendar for Park Jihyo. Between her busy schedule and her general indifference toward the holiday, she had no reason to celebrate. That morning, she scrolled past social media posts filled with flowers and chocolates, shrugged at the countless pink-and-red decorations in the café she stopped by, and ignored the couples exchanging heart-shaped gifts on the streets of Seoul.

But somehow, she still found herself here—seated at a candlelit table for two, with a person across from her, wearing an expression just as surprised as hers.

“…So, I guess we’re on a date?” Y/n asked, glancing at the elegantly set table.

Jihyo let out a small, incredulous laugh, brushing her hair behind her ear. “I mean… I think we are?”

Neither of them had planned this. It started with a simple mix-up—Y/n had called to make a last-minute reservation, only to be told there was already one under their name. Confused but not wanting to question fate, they arrived at the restaurant, only to find Jihyo sitting at the same table, just as puzzled. After a brief, awkward exchange, the host had cheerfully assumed they were a couple and left them no room to protest.

Jihyo had almost left. Almost. But then she saw the way Y/n’s face lit up in slight amusement, the curiosity in their eyes as if silently asking her to stay just for the fun of it. And before she could think too much, she had sat back down.

And now, here they are.

“I swear I didn’t set this up,” Y/n continued, raising their hands in mock innocence.

Jihyo smirked, picking up her menu. “Neither did I. But since we’re here… should we just go along with it?”

Y/n grinned. “I’d be honored to be your accidental Valentine.”

The tension eased as they both leaned into the humor of the situation. Jihyo, who had come here simply to enjoy a quiet dinner alone, found herself laughing at Y/n’s commentary on the menu’s extravagant dish names and raising an eyebrow at their bold decision to order the “Lover’s Special” dessert, just because it fit the theme of the night.

Somewhere between the first course and the main dish, the accidental date started to feel less like an accident. The conversation flowed effortlessly—Jihyo found herself sharing stories about ridiculous stage mishaps, while Y/n recounted an embarrassing childhood Valentine’s Day confession that had her covering her mouth to stifle a laugh. She had expected an awkward evening at best, but instead, she felt warm, comfortable, and—dare she say—charmed.

When the dessert arrived, a decadent chocolate fondue platter meant to be shared, Y/n held out a strawberry dipped in chocolate. “Since this is technically a date, it’s only right that we go all in,” they teased.

Jihyo hesitated for a second before leaning in slightly and taking a bite, her lips brushing against the chocolate-covered fruit. She swallowed, then glanced at Y/n, suddenly aware of how intimate the moment felt. “You’re making the most of this, huh?” she said, but there was no real bite in her words.

Y/n tilted their head playfully. “Well, what if this turns out to be my best Valentine’s Day ever? Gotta make it count.”

Jihyo looked at them then—really looked at them. The way their eyes softened when they smiled, the way they listened intently when she spoke, the way they made her feel at ease without even trying.

Maybe this wasn’t such a bad way to spend Valentine’s Day after all.

As the night wrapped up and they walked out together, the city lights glowing around them, Jihyo found herself reluctant to say goodbye just yet. She took a breath, then turned to Y/n with a small, almost shy smile.

“Hey… since this date wasn’t planned, maybe we should plan the next one.”

Y/n’s eyes widened in pleasant surprise, but their answer was immediate, their smile matching hers. “I’d love that.”

And just like that, Valentine’s Day went from just another date on the calendar to something far more memorable—for both of them.

————————-

The next morning, Jihyo woke up to her phone buzzing nonstop. She groggily reached for it, squinting at the screen.

Momo: So how was your Valentine’s date?

Dahyun: Don’t leave us hanging, leader-nim. Details!!

Nayeon-Unnie: Was it fate or… was it ME?

Jihyo sat up, instantly alert. She scrolled up, catching a voice message that her unnie sent the night before. Hesitating for only a second, she pressed play.

“Jihyo, I have a confession to make…” Nayeon’s voice was sing-songy, filled with amusement. “Remember when you told me you weren’t doing anything for Valentine’s Day? Well, I may have overheard someone trying to make a reservation last minute… and I may have used my powers to secure them a table… under your name.”

Jihyo gasped. “Unnie!”

She quickly played the rest of the message.

“I figured you’d probably just eat alone anyway, so why not make it interesting? You needed a little push, and, well… I have good instincts! No need to thank me—just tell me how it went. Oh, and if you’re mad… don’t be. Because I’m a genius. Okay, bye~!”

Jihyo stared at her phone in disbelief before flopping back onto her bed, groaning into her pillow. Of course, it was Nayeon. That little schemer had been meddling in her love life for years, but this time, she had outdone herself.

Still, Jihyo couldn’t even be that mad. Because, somehow, Nayeon’s stunt had led to one of the best Valentine’s Days she’d ever had.

Her thoughts drifted back to the night before—the laughter, the easy conversation, the way Y/n had looked at her under the soft glow of the restaurant’s lights. And, most of all, the way she had asked them out at the end of the night. It had been a spontaneous decision, but one she didn’t regret.

As if on cue, her phone lit up with a new message.

“So, was last night the most romantic accidental date ever, or am I just that charming?”

Jihyo felt a smile tug at her lips.

“It was an experience.”

“Only an “experience”? Ouch.”

“Fine, fine. It was the best unexpected Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had. Happy?”

“Very. Now, about that planned date… Dinner? Coffee? Or should we let fate decide again?”

Jihyo hesitated for only a second before typing her reply.

“Let’s go to dinner. No mix-ups this time. Just you and me.”

A reply came almost immediately.

“I like the sound of that.”

Jihyo set her phone down, shaking her head with a quiet laugh. She’d have to deal with Nayeon’s smugness later, but for now… she was just looking forward to seeing Y/n again.

———————-

For the first time in a long time, Jihyo found herself nervous before a date.

Last time, she hadn’t expected to be on one. It had been a complete accident, something out of a rom-com where fate had intervened (or, in this case, Nayeon). But tonight? Tonight, she had made a conscious decision to see Y/n again.

She checked her reflection in the mirror for what felt like the tenth time. Her outfit was casual but stylish—something nice without looking like she had tried too hard. Why was she overthinking this? She was Park Jihyo, for crying out loud. She had performed in front of thousands, given interviews on live television, and handled high-pressure situations like a pro.

So why did the idea of a real date with Y/n make her heart race?

Her phone buzzed.

“I just got here. No mistaken reservations this time. I triple-checked.”

Jihyo exhaled a small laugh and grabbed her bag.

“Good. I don’t need Nayeon meddling again.”

“Oh? And here I thought we should invite her as a thank-you.”

“Not.”

She arrived at the restaurant a few minutes later and spotted you immediately. Y/n looked different tonight—maybe it was the way they had dressed up a little, or maybe it was just the fact that she was seeing them in a new light.

Y/n smiled when they saw her. “Hey, you made it. No dramatic mix-ups this time?”

Jihyo smirked, sliding into the seat across from Y/n. “Not unless you secretly bribed the restaurant staff to create another ‘accidental’ situation.”

“I considered it,” they teased, “but I figured we could try a normal date for once.”

The word date made Jihyo’s stomach flutter. This was real. This was happening.

Dinner felt different from their first night together—there was no initial awkwardness, no uncertainty about whether they were just going along with a joke. Instead, there was an ease to their conversation, a quiet understanding that they both wanted to be here.

Y/n asked her about her day, and she found herself telling them about rehearsals, about the ridiculous inside jokes that had formed among the members, and about how Momo had interrogated her that morning about exactly what had happened on Valentine’s Day.

“So, I’m assuming your members know about our… situation?” Y/n asked, sipping their drink.

Jihyo groaned. “Oh, they know. And they’re never going to let me live it down.”

Y/n grinned. “Nayeon must be feeling pretty smug.”

“She called herself a genius,” Jihyo muttered, shaking her head.

“Well… she kind of is,” they admitted, tilting their head. “I mean, if it weren’t for her, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

Jihyo opened her mouth to argue—but stopped. Y/n wasn’t wrong.

She hadn’t planned to spend Valentine’s Day with anyone. She hadn’t planned to see Y/n again. She especially hadn’t planned to like them as much as she did.

But here she was.

Somewhere between the laughter and the easy conversation, Jihyo realized something.

Last time, she had told herself she was just going along with the moment. That it was just a fun, unexpected turn of events.

But tonight? This wasn’t fate. This was her choice.

And when Y/n walked her to her car at the end of the night, when they hesitated slightly before saying goodbye, she made another choice.

She reached out, taking Y/n’s hand in hers, giving it a small squeeze. “I had a good time tonight.”

Y/n’s fingers curled gently around hers. “Me too.”

Jihyo hesitated for only a second before leaning in and pressing a soft, fleeting kiss to their cheek. “I’ll text you,” she murmured, smiling at the way Y/n blinked in surprise.

Then, before she could overthink it, she slipped into her car and drove off—her heart racing, a smile lingering on her lips.

This time, it wasn’t an accident.

This time, it was something real.

Bonus Chapter:

It had been a week since Jihyo’s impromptu date with Y/n, and every time she found herself thinking about it, she felt a mix of excitement and disbelief.

The evening had ended with a sweet kiss on Y/n’s cheek—just a brief touch of her lips, but enough to send her heart fluttering for days. She found herself replaying the moment in her mind when she should’ve been focused on rehearsals or meetings. Her members teased her about her new glow—and, naturally, Nayeon had to make it her mission to get every last detail of the date out of her.

Now, as the weekend approached, Jihyo couldn’t help but wonder if she should text them. After all, it had been a week. Y/n had been busy. She had been busy. And yet, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that there was something more to explore between them.

As she sat on her couch, a cup of tea in hand, her phone buzzed, breaking her thoughts.

“Hey, what are you doing this weekend? I was thinking we could hang out again. No reservations are needed this time, promise.”

Jihyo felt her heart skip a beat. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she quickly typed her response.

“ I was just thinking the same thing. How about coffee tomorrow? Just us. No one else to interfere.”

A few seconds later, Y/n’s reply came through.

“Deal. I’ll pick the place. 2 PM?”

She quickly agreed and set the phone down, feeling that familiar flutter in her chest. It felt like the beginning of something more.

The next day, Jihyo arrived at the café early, wanting to avoid the chance of being late and giving off a less-than-cool impression. The weather was perfect—sunny but crisp, with a slight breeze that tousled her hair as she stepped out of her car. She spotted Y/n immediately, sitting at a corner table, looking relaxed but undeniably cute, just like the last time she’d seen them.

Y/n smiled when they saw her, standing up to greet her. “Hey, you made it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Jihyo replied, her voice a little softer than usual. She sat down across from Y/n, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to slow down. There was a quiet understanding between them both, an unspoken acknowledgment that this wasn’t just another casual meet-up. It was something deeper.

The conversation flowed effortlessly as the two of them sipped their coffee. Y/n talked about their week—about work, about random funny moments that had happened to both of them, about things that felt personal but not overwhelming. For the first time in a long while, Jihyo felt like she could just be herself without any pressure.

“So…” Y/n leaned in slightly, their eyes searching Jihyo’s. “How has your week been since… well, since that night?”

Jihyo couldn’t help but chuckle. “It’s been good. A little chaotic, but nothing I couldn’t handle.” She paused, considering how much of the truth she wanted to share. “I’ve been thinking about that night… and you.”

There was a brief silence before Y/n spoke, their voice softer this time. “I’ve been thinking about it too.”

Jihyos’s heart skipped a beat.

“I never thought I’d end up in a situation like that,” they continued, their gaze steady. “But I’m glad I did. I’m glad it was you.”

Jihyo’s breath caught in her throat. She had been so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn’t even realized how much she’d wanted to hear those words. Slowly, she reached for Y/n’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I feel the same way,” she whispered. “I wasn’t expecting this. I wasn’t expecting you.”

Y/n squeezed her hand back, their thumb gently brushing over her knuckles. There was no need for grand declarations or cheesy lines; everything felt perfect in that simple, quiet moment.

Jihyo smiled, the kind of smile that came from deep inside, a smile she hadn’t shared in a while. “So… what happens now?”

Y/n tilted their head thoughtfully. “I think we take it one day at a time. No pressure, just… seeing where this goes.”

Jihyo nodded, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. This wasn’t rushed. There was no expectation. It was just the two of you, at this moment, and that was enough for now.

“Sounds perfect,” she replied.

And with that, the weekend unfolded, full of promise and possibility—without the rush, without the pressure, just a growing connection that felt like it was exactly where it needed to be.