#but those two smells always make me feel like a kid again ����

[retrosabers]

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐔𝐌𝐄’𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐌.

logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: the scent of you is driving logan crazy.

contains: mild 18+ content. MINORS DNI. mentions of masturbation (m&f), a steamy little make out, and implications of future smut

word count: 1.8k

a/n: not me trying to capitalize off the hugh jackman renaissance and revive my dead blog…anyways, this is my first time writing for logan! hope you all enjoy <3

i feel like we don’t talk enough about logan’s enhanced sense of smell.

the man can catch a whiff of someone the second they walk into the room, even the building sometimes if their scent is strong enough. it’s especially heightened when he realizes he’s attracted to you. at first he thought maybe it was because you were always wearing perfume, the aroma lingering around the mansion wherever you traveled. but then it became such an intense, all encompassing sensation that he knew it was something deeper.

his suspicions are confirmed one night as he walks past your room. if the faint whimpers he heard weren't enough confirmation of your activities, then the scent that fills his nostrils seals the deal.

you’re touching yourself. and he can smell your arousal.

it makes something stir in his stomach. the animal-like urges he always tries so hard to keep at bay threaten to make their way to the surface the longer he stands frozen in the hallway. logan attempts to shake the heat that spreads across his skin as he makes his way back to his own room, but it only ends with him cumming hard into his hand an hour later.

the next day, when he catches you on your way out of charles’ office, you offer him the same kind, beaming smile you always did. then that damned smell fills his nostrils again and his fists curl at his sides once you’re out of eyesight.

there’s only one explanation for it.

you’re ovulating.

which means there’s no escaping his desires unless you stay out of reach.

so for his sake and yours, he decides to just avoid you completely until the week is over. he can’t risk caving to those urges and doing something stupid and irrational.

of course you’re completely oblivious to it. you think that he’s just being weird, going through another rut of being a standoffish loner like he was when he first arrived at the mansion. because after about a week, he’s back to being a bit friendlier, to being the logan you had grown to call a close friend.

then the cycle seems to repeat itself and you notice it’s just you he’s avoiding.

you try and wrack your brain to think of anything you could’ve done to warrant this kind of isolation. you hoped if something upset logan he would just talk to you about it instead of playing this childish game of hot and cold.

after a couple months, you decide you’ve had enough.

cornering him was a difficult task. but you were observant enough to know certain parts of his routine, including exactly when he would be lingering in the common areas after all the kids had gone to sleep. after two failed attempts of trying to catch him in the kitchen, you finally managed to find him alone and unsuspecting.

“why have you been avoiding me?” you blurt, wanting to cut right to the chase. you’re expecting him to flinch a little bit, perhaps even be stunned.

but he knew you were coming. logan knew it was only a matter of time before you noticed his schtick.

still, he decides to look for an excuse, any excuse, to cover up the real reason.

“m’not avoiding you” he grumbles halfheartedly around the rim of a beer bottle. taking an extra long swig, he finally turns to look at you; leaning against the doorway with your arms folded and a look akin to annoyance plastered across your pretty face.

you cock your head to the side, clearly unimpressed with his answer.

“a few days ago, i watched you back out of a room the minute you realized i was in it,” you start to list off, counting with your fingers. “last month you avoided the wing where the gym was altogether while i was going through a new training regimen.”

logan winces at the memory. the scent of your pheromones was intoxicating. so much so that he couldn’t step foot anywhere near the gym without feeling like he needed to rub one out.

“and the month before that,” you huff out a sad laugh, voice suddenly soft and quiet. “you didn’t even say goodbye before you went off on that mission with scott and jean.”

guilt overtakes him quickly at the pain in your tone.

you’ve never looked smaller as you pick at a loose thread on your sweatpants. “did i do something wrong?”

“no,” logan reassures, jumping out of his seat at record speed, though still trying to maintain some distance. “you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“then what is it? you sigh exasperatedly, desperate to put an end to this nagging feeling that’s been eating away at you. “logan, you know if something’s bothering you, you can tell me.”

and he wants to. he so badly wants to, maybe even see if you’ll offer to help him out. but you’re you. the sweetest, kindest thing he’s ever known and he’ll be damned if he lets his curse of a mutation ruin whatever relationship the two of you have.

but then you’re inching closer and his skin starts buzzing again. his senses are consumed by you. by the way you look up at him with big, wide eyes, the softness of your skin as you reach to place a comforting hand on his forearm. it's all too much, and he finds himself pulling away from you with a grunt.

it hurts to see him retreat from you so aggressively. his jaw is clenched tight, his fists at his sides even tighter as the veins in his arms bulge bigger than you’ve ever seen before. he looks pained. like he’s fighting something internally.

“logan,” you approach him cautiously, unsure of what exactly to do. “what’s going on?”

his eyes squeeze shut at the sound of your voice. “just, please go back to your room.”

“i’m not leaving you like this.”

“m’not asking you,” he grits out, almost like a growl. “i’m telling you. go back to your room.”

now he was starting to piss you off. you narrow your eyes, leaning your hip against the counter.

“or what?”

suddenly he’s crowding your space, chest heaving up and down as he stares at you with pupils so wide his eyes are nearly black. logan’s voice is scarily level when he utters his final warning.

“or i’m gonna do something i regret.”

when you shift closer to him, his nose twitches with a sniff. the raise of your brow doesn’t go unnoticed, and he knows that you’re not leaving this room until you get to the bottom of what he’s been hiding.

that’s when something inside logan decides to throw caution to the wind, just for a minute.

“i can smell you.”

curiosity morphs into confusion at his admission. you shake your head.

“i don’t understand.”

then, the man’s gaze travels to the waistband of your pajama pants, the tension in his jaw growing more taught by the second. his hands flex at his sides, trying to keep him grounded and calm as he finally admits what’s been driving him mad.

“i can smell you.”

the emphasis on the last word takes a minute to register. logan watches as the gears turn behind your eyes, catches the exact moment of realization as your gaze softens and your lips part.

oh.

oh.

slowly things start to piece together. how logan’s behavior seemed to fall around the same time these past couple months. a few weeks before your cycle.

he wasn’t avoiding you because he was angry, or upset. he was avoiding you because you were fucking ovulating.

logan expects you to flee, to be completely weirded out and steer clear of him for the foreseeable future. what he’s not expecting, is the words that come out of your mouth.

“i can help you with that if you want.”

you say it with such nonchalance, such casualness that he wonders if you’re even really grasping what you’ve said.

the wolverine shakes his head. “trust me, you don’t want this.”

he doesn’t quite believe his own words as he watches you close the distance between your bodies. something you’ve been desperate to do for as long as you can remember.

the thin fabric of his tank top and the soft cotton of your t-shirt is the only thing standing between you both. your chests are mere centimeters from touching and logan can feel the heat radiating from your bodies as his confession hangs heavy in the air. then that fucking smell comes back tenfold and he groans.

“you don’t get to make that choice for me,” your voice is sickly sweet, dripping with desire as your fingers ghost over the waistband of his jeans. he feels like a horny teenager as he preens at the barely there contact.

logan breathes your name, a last stitch effort to get you to run, though he knows it’s futile. if there’s one thing he knows about you, it’s that you're stubborn. unmoving in your ways.

and that when you want something, you don’t stop until you get it.

your hand comes up to cradle the side of his face, a rather gentle touch he wasn’t anticipating. his eyes flutter shut as you swipe your thumb over the expanse of his cheekbone.

your words are barely above a whisper. “i trust you, logan. completely.”

that’s all he needs to hear before he throws any sense of self control out the window.

he surges forward and captures your lips in what is possibly the most heated kiss you’ve ever experienced. you nearly stumble over at the sheer force of it. logan’s large hands fly to your waist, yours to the back of his neck as his tongue prods for entrance into your mouth. it’s messy, almost primal as you let him ravish you like he’s been thinking about for weeks.

you moan and he swallows the sound greedily, desperate to hear it again, and again, and again. when his lips move to press against the column of your throat, you know this is going to escalate into exactly what you hoped it would.

“logan,” you breathe out as he focuses on your pulse point, his hands wandering further south to knead at the globes of your ass. “not here.”

“why not?” he mutters, all smirky and smug as he continues to press wet hot kisses against your neck.

“because i would prefer if you didn’t fuck me where our friends eat.”

he laughs, a deep vibration felt against your chest as you absentmindedly grind your core against his. it makes him bring his mouth back up to yours, stealing one final kiss before he pulls away.

looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. and by god you might just let him.

pressing a playful smack against your backside, he gently nudges you in the direction of the corridor.

“lead the way sugar.”

thanks for reading! <3

[dixonsstinkysock]

It’s Temporary

AN: This was going to be a random blurb but I’m too into this and he’s such a dork. Guys don’t tell anyone but I kinda wanna write smut, I’m not going to because I’m scared but y’know.

(Heavily inspired by a bot on C.AI, pretty sure the user is @/zetali_09 so if you see this i love you.)

Warnings: Swearing, mention of an apartment blowing up….suggestive???

Set during Season 1, before the timeskip…

The cold, Upper city, night air chilled you to the core. The dark streets only illuminated by the few street lights scattered here and there. You wrap your cloak around you a little tighter as you made your way to the meeting spot. Making a sharp turn down a dark alleyway, you narrowly miss a couple of enforcers doing their nightly rounds.

Leaning against the cool, damp, brick wall. Enjoying the noises of the city, letting time pass by as you wait for your companion. Around a half an hour later, you hear heavy footsteps and the soft click of the high-cost, well made shoes echoing throughout the alley. You recognized those steps, he saved up for a long time to purchase those shoes, no way could you forget them. You open your eyes, turning towards the culprit of the noise. “Took you long enough, thought I was gonna rot out here.” You smiled at the shadowed man, stepping into the moonlight.

“Sorry, had a few things to finish up with my work. Left later than I expected…”

You walk up to him, trapping him into one if your famous bear hugs. An unfamiliar scent wafts from him, its sweet…it’s expensive. Definitely not his signature cologne smell—no, something different. You both stay there for a moment, enjoying the new company. Everything seems to fade away when your with him, it’s like he’s the cure to your disease.

“Been a while since we last talked—“

“Yeah, I…” You pull back, looking Jayce in the eyes. “I’m sorry. There’s been alot going on.”

His hands come up to your face, gently caressing it. He’s always gentle with you, a contrast from the rough, dangerous streets you grew up in.

“Hey…What’s going on?” His voice is soft and smooth, with the occasional voice crack, it’s not fair. His looks already make him desirable, but hearing him talk to you with that tone? Drooling.

“It’s my siblings, they’ve been getting into more and more trouble.” You fully pull away from him, turning towards the lit up entrance of the alleyway. “It’s like Vi doesn’t even realize how bad things can really get.”

“Hey—“ He takes a step foward, gently grabbing your shoulders and turning you to him. “I’m here. I’m here to help—with anything. We’ll figure this out okay?”

A bittersweet smile graces your lips, you close your hand over his placed on your shoulder.

“You don’t know the Undercity, Jayce. I don’t think there’s anything you can do to help me on this one…”

The two of you stood there, unspeaking. You can practically hear the gears burning inside Jayce’s head. You can almost smell the smoke coming from them, It’s obvious he’s thinking of ways to try and help you and your family. After a moment, you rest your head onto his chest, defeated, and looking for comfort.

“I can’t let you risk you life for this. You have too much ahead of you.”

You feel his arms wrap around you, bringing you closer. He buries his face into your hair, breathing in your scent.

“There is nothing ahead of me without you.” You lock your arms around him, holding back a few tears. Jayce feels you taking fast, deep breaths, attempting to keep your composure. It’s all been alot, apparently your kid siblings were being nosy—blew up some guys apartment. Now every enforcer in Piltover is searching for them. You take a deep breath, leaning up straight to face him again.

“I won’t let you risk your life for me…risk your future—”

“I’m not some idiot throwing himself into danger for fun! I’m protecting someone I love.”

That. That catches you off guard. Yes, you two have been messing around every other night, cuddling after, speaking soft sweet words to each other…but love? He didn’t really love you did he? You’re from the Undercity. The scum of the scum. He’s from the top, he’s perfect. No way he actually means this…does he?

“I’m choosing to do this because I care about you, I care about your family. You aren’t alone in this, no matter how much you think you are.”

Time stops for what feels like hours, you gaze into his eyes, trying to find some kind of sign to tell you he isn’t being true. You can’t. His caramel eyes look gold from the street lights, determined and dead set on aiding you. You let your head fall onto his chest again, giving him your unspoken permission to help with your situation.

“I just realized I didn’t ask about how you’ve been.”

His arms tighten around your body, gently rocking you both back and forth. “Ha…” Jayce lets out a breathy chuckle, preparing himself to recount the most recent and life changing events. “It’s been different…Some guys blew up my apartment.”

You freeze. There’s no way they did that. It can’t be the same apartment right? How many apartments blow up in Piltover? Oh my god. My siblings blew up his fucking apartment. “Uh…” You can’t even form a sentence, still shocked at the new information. What are you going to tell him—

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah—are you okay? You’re fucking apartment blew up!” You pull back from him, facing him again. Your hands find their place on his waist, trying to ground yourself after what you were just told.

“My back’s still a little sore but I’m fine.”

“How much did you lose?” His mood darkened, eyes darting to the ground. “Alot.” You take a deep breath, This shouldn’t have happened. He is a good man, maybe a little crazy sometimes but—good. This whole thing is a mess. Jayce doesn’t know your sisters are the ones who blew up his apartment, you can’t go and get onto them for this because they don’t know you’re with him. You’re stuck, with no one to go to, maybe Vander but…he’d get upset that you’re up here with a topsider. Just so happens, he’s the same topsider your sisters were targeting.

This is fucking stupid.

After giving him your apologies, you realize it’s getting light. You should start heading back home, hopefully without Vander noticing you were gone.

“Jayce, It’s getting early. I gotta start heading back…”

“So soon..?” He smiles, he’s clearly up to something as he brings his hands up to your jaw. The sun is slowly rising, changing the sky into beautiful hues of orange and blue.

“Have to get back before Vander wakes up, I do not wanna hear that lecture.”

“Do you have to? Maybe you could…stay with me?”

“Stay…Topside. With you.”

“Yeah, I mean we could spend the day together. Go and do something…” He takes your hands into his own, engulfing them. You take a moment to think about his request. It’d be fun spending time with him, you’d be able to really enjoy his company. Not waiting for something or someone to come out of the shadows, trying to rob you or worse.

“Okay…What did you have in mind?” A smug look slowly plagues his face as he takes your hands into his, leading you out of the alley and in the direction of his temporary home.

“Trust me?”

You grip his hands tighter, letting him lure you into whatever devious plan he’s set up.

“Maybe…”

Two shadows danced against the stone road, slowly disappearing as the sun rose higher into the sky. One by one, doors open, carriages roll by, and the occasional stray kid runs in front of you two. None of that matters, not when his callused, warm hands are handling you so gently. When he looks at you like you’re his world…like he can’t live without you.

It definitely doesn’t matter when he pulls you into his hotel, hands roaming each others clothed figures as he closes the door behind you.

Guys…Part 2?? What y’all think 😈

[redflowersociety]

[NSFW]Candy for the ears (Daisuke) - Mouthwashing x reader

I really need this man holy FUCK. Reader is right out of a relationship and Daisuke is on some “love-at-first-sight” bs… idk I have brainrot

Minors, stay safe out here.

Here you two were again, chatting in private while you doodled funny little pictures together. Daisuke, having always wanted to go into art, was actually rather talented. You expressed some insecurity of your own abilities, but he assured you that it was more about the time you spent together than the quality of the drawings.

You knew for a while now just how he felt about you: the way he stared at you and waved every time you met his gaze, the corny compliments and acts of service he’d do for you, how he always would tell you he missed you when you’d see each other, even if only a few minutes had passed since your presences were last intertwined.

You knew he liked you from the very moment he met you. But, you yourself weren’t sure of your own feelings. Freshly out of a relationship, and numb romantically from it, you felt bad that you weren’t in a place to show interest back. You always worried about the pace things were progressing, and whether or not you could even give the energy back. You needed time, and gladly, Daisuke gave you all you needed. You two had know each-other for months at this point, and were now pretty close.

“Would you let me cook for you,” he asked, not once pausing from swiping down with a pencil on the paper.

“…depends. Are you a good cook?” You glanced up at him for a moment, and he met your eye then.

“Well, yeah! I can cook. Not the best, but… I dunno, I just wanna make you something. You say cooking is annoying for you, I wanna help.”

You smiled at his thoughtfulness. “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind that. I’d have to tell you my preferences, though.” You sat up, scooting closer to the other.

“Yeah, of course!” He watched as you sat down next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He instinctually put his arm around you, comfortingly.

“You’re warm, but you smell like axe body spray.”

“No I don’t!” He pouted, and you laughed, reassuring him that you were kidding. He continued, “You smell like… lavender.”

“I do? I like that smell.”

“Mhm.”

“…”

You two sat in silence for a little while, before you finally looked up at him and whispered, “Daisuke.”

“Yeah?”

You leaned up towards his face, now turned to you, and left a gentle peck on his lips. Then another. Then another, and then something deeper. You crawled up into his lap, hands placed on his jaw, curving out from his cheeks as you slowly moved them around his neck. He whimpered slightly into the kiss, placing his hands on your ticklish sides which made you tense a bit. But you two continued, and eventually you melted like paste into his touch as he moved his hands down to your hips and thighs, pulling you closer to him until you were plush against his chest.

It was at this point that you noticed your make out session left some… hard feeling beneath you. It didn’t take long to realize, and when you looked at Daisuke, it was as if he morphed suddenly into a tomato. “S-sorry. I don’t-… usually do this kind of this so I-“ you cut him off with a gentle kiss, pecking your lips softly against him as you trailed down to his neck.

You nipped and kissed and sucked, leaving hickeys all about his skin. All the while, you began to grind down into him, rubbing yourself up against his hardening erection, guiding him with your hands to drag you forward and back as you moved. Those gentle whimpers finding their way out of his mouth were so sweet, like candy for the ears. You couldn’t get enough of it…

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 4: market day

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

You've heard a lot of people say that the honeymoon period only lasts the first few weeks of marriage and that after that things can start to get complicated. But the rule didn’t seem to apply to you.

Maybe it was because you two were young and enthusiastic, because you were too busy missing him to think about arguing, or maybe it was just that you really were made for each other.

You often tried to steal as much time as possible from your husband’s demanding job because being an FBI agent often took him away from you, and sometimes having a few domestic moments was all you both desired.

Grocery shopping was one of those activities that really made you feel like a married couple, and it saved you many trips to the store for food.

“Which do you prefer? Soy or almond milk?”

“Soy has phytoestrogens and more health benefits in moderate amounts. Almond is for people looking to maintain weight, and although it’s healthy, it’s low in protein.”

“Soy, got it,” you said with a small smile at his intellectual response.

Every time it was grocery shopping day, your job was always to push the cart and grab an item or two within reach, but most of the time, Spencer was the one in charge of selecting your groceries. After all, he had a pretty extensive knowledge of the benefits of each food. He always wanted to take care of you, and since he was often away, one way he could do that was by ensuring you were well-nourished.

“Look, I found some tea,” he announced happily, making you look away from the yogurt section in the fridge to pay attention. “Lavender, passionflower, valerian…”

“For your insomnia?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, dropping the boxes into the cart “And some mint and lemon for you.”

“You know me so well,” you smiled sweetly, leaning on the plastic handle, letting him gently caress your cheek.

You two had known each other for so many years that there were details about each other you knew by instinct. You knew his favorite brand of coffee, how he liked it with a specific number of sugar spoons, that you needed to buy him two sets of socks because he always liked mismatched ones, and you knew the exact spot on his head to stroke to help him fall back asleep after a nightmare. He knew you hated wearing shoes indoors, that you had a specific way of sleeping, and that you hated the smell of cinnamon. There were so many things you did as if they were second nature that it seemed impossible to list them all.

The truth is, people at Spencer’s work were quite surprised to find out that not only did he have a girlfriend, but that you were getting married. The event was private, very intimate, and not at all pretentious because that wasn’t your style.

You both had no problem moving into a new, slightly more spacious apartment, now that everything was doubled. But you were managing it quite well, to be honest.

You continued strolling through the grocery store, staying close to your husband, and then remembered you needed some bread. You pushed the cart over and stood next to a woman who seemed to be in a dilemma, staring at two loaves of bread as if trying to analyze which was better.

“The best one is that one,” you said, hoping not to make her uncomfortable. She looked at you confused, so you decided to speak again. “It has less sugar and the necessary carbs for good nutrition. There’s a study about it; it’s true.”

“Oh, sweetie, I wasn’t looking for the healthiest, just the one with the best quantity and price. It���s for my kids. Those children could eat an entire loaf in a day, and I can’t afford that.”

You laughed honestly and gave her a look of understanding. She was a bit older than you but not old enough to be considered elderly.

“I think you’re right.”

“I love my kids, but I won’t lie… sometimes they drive me crazy,” she confessed, and you both laughed again.

“Darling, do you want me to make pasta for you this week? Rossi taught me a recipe that…”

He trailed off when he noticed you had company, and for some reason, he suddenly felt shy.

“That’s fine, love. We can eat whatever you want,” you replied kindly. “I already have something to go with it.”

You winked at him when he noticed the wine you had tossed into the cart, and then he smiled and went off in search of the necessary ingredients.

“Your boyfriend?”

“Husband,” you corrected her. There was a strange pride in saying that.

“Husband! Oh, that’s so sweet. How long have you been married?”

“We’ll be married for four months next week.”

“Young love, so beautiful,” she sighed, as if nostalgic for a time that now seemed too far away. “And he helps you with the shopping?”

“I help him, actually,” you laughed. “He’s the one who selects everything. Before we got married, I had the worst eating habits, and he hated that. So we try to eat better now.”

“Marriages are so different now,” she said, and upon hearing that, you expected to endure a conservative speech and internally dreaded it. “My husband never joins me for things like this; he’s not even interested. In this and in much more, to be honest. And it’s nice to see that girls nowadays can have these kinds of relationships. You know, where they’re supported.”

Somehow, that touched your heart, and suddenly you wished you could hug the woman, but you held back. Then, you looked over at Spencer. He was in the vegetable section, apparently comparing two bags of spinach. You could recognize him in a crowd without a doubt, with his slouched posture, his messy hair (freshly cut, by the way), and his peculiar formal attire.

You had always appreciated having the man in your life, even when you didn’t have a romantic relationship, but you had never stopped to think how lucky you were that he had decided to love you.

“I’m glad too,” you said in what was barely a whisper.

You didn’t say anything else. The woman said her goodbyes kindly, and you just smiled at her, too busy gazing at the man with loving eyes. You stood there watching him, and when he approached, he couldn’t help but notice your strange expression.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing. I just had a very revealing conversation with that woman.”

“Huh, yeah?” he hummed, dropping a collection of items into the shopping cart “And what was it about?”

“About you,” you answered casually, lifting your hands to place them on his chest and then sliding them to his cheeks “Talking to her reminded me that you’re the best husband in the world.”

Carefully and affectionately, you stood on your tiptoes and planted a loud kiss on him. Spencer laughed as his cheeks blushed, returning the favor with a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t know if I am, but I try.”

“And that’s why I love you,” you confessed sweetly.

And then, it was Spencer who felt lucky.

[l0vergirlsw0rld]

changes

dbf!loganxgrown!reader

a/n: my first resquest! i hope you like it <3 send me more requests pls pls!

wc:2.5k

FLUFF, AGE GAP, TABOO RELATIONSHIP

summary: you've had enough of the tension between you and Logan, your dad's best friend, so you decided to go confront him about it.

It’s funny how the past creeps up on you. One minute, you’re just a kid with scraped knees and big dreams, and the next, you’re staring down the barrel of decisions you swore you’d never make. But life’s got a way of pushing you into corners, and before you know it, you’re crossing lines you didn’t even know were there.

Logan’s always been a fixture in my life, like the smell of cigar smoke that clings to the walls long after the flame’s been snuffed out. A constant. Steady. Safe, in a way that most people never are. My dad’s best friend, the man who taught me how to throw a punch and how to take one. He was always there, just on the periphery, watching out for me in that quiet, gruff way of his.

But things change. People change. Or maybe, it’s just me. Because somewhere along the way, the way I look at him shifted. The safe, familiar lines blurred, and now I’m seeing things I wasn’t supposed to see—feeling things I wasn’t supposed to feel.

It’s like standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing full well that one wrong step could send you plummeting, but you can’t bring yourself to step back. And Logan… he’s the kind of danger you run toward, not away from.

I know better. I should know better. But when I’m around him, all that common sense goes up in smoke. Just like the end of his cigar, burning slow, smouldering—until there’s nothing left but ash.

You put down your pen with a heavy sigh.

Your diary, the safekeeping for all your thoughts and worries, had recently become your go-to place for your impure thoughts as well.

A part of you wished you could go back to the way it was before. It was simpler, more moral, and occupied a lot less of your mind than it did now.

But something had shifted between the two of you when you became a woman. 

The way you looked at him was a big one. Now that you were in the adult dating pool as well, you couldn’t help but notice that Logan was an attractive man and a single one too.

You obsessively questioned why that was because, to you, he was the complete package; More than just tall, dark, and handsome. 

You would catch yourself stealing glances when he wasn’t looking, the way his chest and abdominal muscles flexed beneath his shirt when he moved. The protruding veins of his forearms and hands, how his fingers were covered in callouses from work.

You had memorized the way his voice dipped into a low grumble when he said your name, how his hazel eyes darkened with something unspoken when they met yours.

The way he spoke to you also took a drastic turn. Keeping the conversation preferably to small talk, or once in a while he’d tease you and call you those annoying pet names from when you were little:

“Watch your mouth, sweetheart.” 

“Come on princess, take a joke,” 

“Kid, you’re gonna be the death of me.”  

Another thing was the way you interacted with each other; you weren’t jumping into his arms as soon as he stepped through the door or being picked up and settled into his lap anymore, it was just a nod of acknowledgement or a slight touch on your lower back if he needed to pass by you.

Even the littlest amount of contact didn’t stop you from imagining what it would feel like if he didn’t stop himself from touching you. What it would feel like if he let go of that last thread of restraint that keeps him just out of reach.

When you lay alone at night, you couldn’t help but think about sitting on that lap again one day.

The lines between right and wrong blur every time he’s near now. It’s dangerous, this game you’re both playing in your heads.

The last time he’d been over, fixing something for your dad, you couldn’t help but notice how his gaze lingered on you a moment too long. How the air seemed to crackle with tension when you were alone in the room together.

“You alright bub’?” he’d tried to play it casually but his eyes… his eyes told a different story.

Bub, the nickname he had given you when you were younger.

“Yeah, just watching you,” you’d bit your lip, keeping your gaze locked on his. 

He nodded, but the way his jaw tightened, the way his hands gripped the wrench a little harder, told you everything you needed to know. You could feel the weight of his gaze on your back as you left the room, your heart pounding in your chest, knowing he felt it too—the pull, the magnetic force that kept you two stealing glances here and there. 

You close the diary with a soft thud as if shutting the book could somehow lock away the thoughts swirling in your head. But the truth is, there’s no escaping them—not when every interaction with Logan leaves you trembling with a flame you cannot control.

And now, sitting in your room, your diary clutched to your chest like a lifeline, you know it’s only a matter of time before something gives. 

There is no better time than the present after all…Fuck it.

With a deep breath, you push yourself off the bed and glance at the clock. It’s late, but you know Logan’s still awake—he always is.

 Part of you was set on going to see him now, to see if the tension you’ve been imagining is real, if he’ll react the same way as you will.

But another part of you, the part that remembers the little girl who used to jump into his arms without a second thought, holds you back. 

Because once you took that step, there was no going back to the way things were before.

And maybe that’s what scared you the most.

You slipped out of your apartment, clutching your car keys so tightly that the metal might bend under the pressure.

 What were you doing? You weren’t entirely sure yourself, but it felt as if your body was on autopilot—drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

Finding your car, you slid into the driver’s seat, your fingers trembling as you shot Logan a quick text.

Y/N: You up?

Your leg bounced nervously as you waited for his reply. How would he react? Would his voice of reason prevail, or would he finally admit to feeling the same pull that you did?

A moment later, your phone buzzed. Logan responded with a simple thumbs-up emoji.

Very on brand. 

Simple, efficient, and direct. You thought.

With his green light, you pulled out of the parking garage and drove towards his log cabin up at Deer Lake. The hum of the engine was the only sound breaking the stillness of the night. The closer you got, the more your heart pounded against your ribcage, a steady rhythm that matched the thoughts racing through your mind. 

You couldn’t stop replaying the last time you’d been alone with him, the way his eyes had lingered on yours just a fraction too long, the almost imperceptible tightening of his jaw when your fingers brushed his as he handed you something.

Was tonight the night everything would change?

As you turned onto the narrow, winding road that led to his place, the dense trees seemed to close in around you, the darkness thickening with each passing second.

The familiarity of the path did little to ease your nerves; if anything, it only heightened the anticipation. 

You’d been here countless times before, but tonight was different. Tonight, you weren’t just visiting a family friend—you were venturing into no man's land.

Finally, the cabin came into view, the warm glow of the porch light spilling out into the cold night air.

You parked the car and took a deep breath, your hand hovering over the door handle as you tried to steady yourself. 

There was still time to turn back, to pretend this had all been a bad idea, a fleeting moment of weakness.

But deep down, you knew you weren’t going to, you knew you didn’t want to.

With a quiet resolve, you stepped out of the car and made your way up the steps to his door. The sound of gravel crunching beneath your boots seemed louder in the stillness of the night.

You hesitated for a moment at the door, your hand raised to knock, when it suddenly swung open, revealing Logan standing there, backlit by the soft light from inside.

He was dressed in his usual white tank top and denim jeans. His tall presence filled the doorway, broad shoulders and familiar, rugged face, but it was the look in his eyes that held you captive. There was a flicker of something there—something that mirrored the pressure in your chest.

“Kid,” he said, his voice low and steady, but you could hear the tension beneath it.

“Can I come in?” You mumbled shyly. 

He nodded,  and you stepped past him into the cabin. The door closed behind you with a soft click, and suddenly the world outside felt very far away. It was as if you’d crossed over into a place where nothing but the two of you existed.

You followed Logan deeper into the cabin, the warmth from the fireplace offering a sharp contrast to the cold, restless night outside. He leaned against the table, returning his glass of whiskey in his hand.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to break the silence. “Logan… can we talk?”

He took a swig and looked up, his hazel eyes reflecting the flickering firelight. “‘Bout what?”

You hesitated, then stepped closer, your heart racing. “Logan, I see the way you look at me.”

He took a swig of his drink.

“... it’s okay. I’ve been looking too.” You stepped closer. 

“I know, sweetheart,” He looked down into his drink. “...hard to ignore what’s goin' on between us.” 

Your breath hitched: he acknowledged it. 

“It is hard, and it’s driving me crazy... we can’t keep pretending like there’s nothing here. I like you, a lot, and I know it’s wrong but I can’t help it.” You fiddled with your fingers. 

“Kid,” he began, his voice gruff, “it ain’t wrong to feel what you’re feelin’. Not with the way that things have changed between us.”

You swallowed, your heart pounding in your chest as you took another step closer, the tension between you thickening with each breath. “Then why have you been pulling away? Why do you keep acting like we can just ignore this?”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his hands flexing as if he was trying to find the right words. “I’ve been tryin’ to protect you…. Things ain’t as simple as they used to be. You’re not a little girl anymore, and I’m… well, I’m me. There’s a lot of weight that comes with this, darlin’. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want it too.”

Your heart ached at his words, and a relieved sigh escaped your body. “I don’t care about the weight, Logan. I just… I want to figure this out with you. I want us to be honest about what we’re feeling, even if it’s messy.”

Logan’s expression softened, a hint of vulnerability showing through his tough exterior. “You’re sure about this, princess? Once we open this door, there ain’t no goin’ back.”

You nodded, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you. “I’m sure. I want to see where this goes. I don’t want to keep pretending.”

Logan took a deep breath and pulled you close to him by your waist, the warmth of his touch grounding you. “Alright, we’ll take it slow and figure it out as we go.” 

Logan’s gaze lingered on yours, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to disappear. The warmth of his hand on your waist, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the soft crackle of the fire—all of it faded into the background as you both stood there, suspended in the tension of what was about to happen.

You could see the conflict in his eyes, the war between the desire he’d been holding back and the protective instinct that had kept him at a distance for so long. But as you leaned in closer, closing the gap between you, something in his resolve seemed to break.

His hand moved from your waist to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart swoon. Your breath caught as his gaze flickered down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, as if silently asking for permission.

You answered by closing the distance, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was both gentle and intense, like the release of a storm that had been building for far too long. His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

The kiss deepened, a slow exploration of all the feelings you’d both been holding back. There was a rawness to it, a hunger that had been denied for too long, but also a softness, an unspoken promise that this was only the beginning.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to steady yourselves. Logan’s hand remained on your face, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw as if he was memorizing the moment.

“Damn, kid,” he murmured, You could smell the whiskey on his breath. “That was...”

“Yeah,” you whispered, unable to find the words to describe what you were feeling. “It was.”

Logan’s eyes searched yours, and in them, you saw a mixture of relief, longing, and something deeper—something that told you that whatever came next, you wouldn’t have to face it alone.

Without a word, Logan’s hands slid down to your thighs, and with a strength that always amazed you, he lifted you effortlessly. A small gasp escaped your lips as he carried you over to the worn leather armchair by the fire, he settled you in his lap, just like you’d been longing for.

The warmth of his body against yours sent a shiver down your spine as you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck. Logan held you close, his hand resting on your lower back, grounding you in the moment.

“What now?” he asked with a grin, his voice a little more seductive now as if the kiss had made it harder for him to hold back.

“What happened to start slow?” You tightened your grip around his neck. 

A small, almost shy smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he leaned in to kiss you again, this time slower, savouring every moment. The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was this—just the two of you and the beginning of something you both knew you’d been waiting for.

ty so much for your request reader <3

🏷️: @megangovier, @back2thebasics

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[chuuyascumsock]

Bury Beneath this Filth they Call Skin and Turn it into a Garden || MINORS DNI

Summary: I made a hurt/comfort fic for Chuuya, I might as well make a comfort fic for Dazai too cause he’s my soft spot.

Tags: Dazai Osamu/Reader, GN reader, Angst, Comfort, No One Is Safe, Mentions Of Self Sabotaging, Self-deprecating Thoughts, Mentions Of Dehumanization, Mentions Of Suicide Attempt, Dazai Highkey Has Bad Hygiene Because I Know He Canonically Reeks Of Liquid Ass (I Still Love Him But Honey—), Brief Description Of Self Harm Scars, He Takes Off His Bandages, Non-Sexual Nudity For A Bit.

Dazai doesn’t remember when you started to keep an extra pair of clothes in your bottom drawer just for him.

He doesn’t remember when you bought an extra toothbrush for him either, the item sitting in a small cup on your bathroom counter so intimately close to yours. He doesn’t remember when you started to stock your cabinets with canned crab or an occasional snack he had stolen from you before and said it tasted good. He doesn’t remember when you began preparing meals big enough for two. And he doesn’t remember when you started to look at him the way you do.

Those eyes that so fondly trace over every inch of his frame like he’s capable of being loved— like he’s not a silver-tongued beast of a man, his words filled with more teeth than his bite ever could. He doesn’t deserve it— he knows he doesn’t— so why does he find himself at your doorstep every time he fails his attempts in ending his miserable existence?

“You’re going to get sick if you keep this up,” You sigh out, stripping away Dazai’s soaked clothes until he’s shivering in his sopping wet bandages and boxers. “And you smell horrible every time…” Your nose slightly scrunches at the lingering smell of hydrogen sulfide and mucky water from the Yokohama canal.

“Whatever do you mean, dear? That’s just my natural musk,” Dazai gives a lopsided grin, attempting to lighten the mood. His grin falls into an uneasy look when he notices the brief side eye you give him as you toss his clothes into the washer.

“My water bills spike every month you do this, you know,” You point out blamelessly.

“Sorry,” Dazai mumbles with a weak smile. He always made a promise to try his hardest not to inconvenience anyone while making his attempts— making it up to those who he had done so with such as Atsushi. But he’s burdened you countless times, not realizing until now. Before he mentally promises himself to never return to you like a pathetic, mangy stray dog— you come into his view again.

“Don’t be sorry, but please come to me when you feel the urge to do these things, ‘Samu. I worry about you.” And Dazai can’t help but to immediately let his previous thoughts fly away. Who was he kidding? He’d never be able to stay away from you.

Your hands carefully reach to begin unwrapping the bandages sliding off Dazai’s body. Flinching, Dazai subconsciously moves a hand to stop you from taking his bandages off. There’s a momentary standstill between both of your movements as you look into his eyes with a reassuring gaze before his hand relaxes and falls to his side. It’s not the first time this has happened, but Dazai doesn’t think he’d ever get used to the feeling of having his protective cloth shed to reveal the myriad of scars that are engraved on this once blank canvas that humans call skin.

And when all is removed, you still look at him as you always had with an unwavering fondness that leaves him subconsciously leaning into you, yearning to be swallowed and drowned in your gentle affections. He doesn’t understand why you do the things that you do, such as loving him no matter how many times he tells you how much he doesn’t need you because it’s always been like that— lonely— or why you even put up with any of his shit for that matter. But you do. And he thinks he’ll never know why, because he’s terrible and doesn’t deserve what you do in return to his horrid behavior.

He slips into the tub without needing guidance, face tilting up to look at you without his usual charming grin, expression replaced with a quiet pleading, begging for any sliver of attention you can offer. And you give into his pleads, sitting by the tub while running a hand through his dark tangled hair before reaching for a washcloth to bathe him. There’s a lack of cheeky comments and flirting from Dazai as you rinse away the grime sticking to his tainted skin, his eyes flickering from distant to focused in a matter of minutes before glancing back over to you and melting further into your reverent touch.

Even after exiting the tub, he says nothing, allowing you to wrap a towel around his shoulders and place a tender kiss to his forehead. If this had been any other day, he would’ve teased you to no end about how you had to stand on your toes just to reach his face, but he merely softly smiles in mild amusement and lets you lead him into your room to get dressed.

He wears the extra pair of clothes you keep for him at the bottom of your drawer, shirt loosely hanging off his shoulders and pajama pants dragging along the floor each time he takes a step forward to follow you to your bed. He was used to sleeping on his futon, but he much preferred your bed and the comfort your body brought when he tangled his limbs in yours.

You don’t scold him either when he buries his face into your neck like you used to the first few times he had done so— complaining about his hot breath on your neck. Now, you reach a hand back to scratch your fingers through his damp hair in an affectionate manner, sighing out softly in what he can tell is contentment.

Even as Dazai drifts off, he can’t help but think about the irony of hating dogs as much as he does, yet he can’t help but love you like one.

[skzficchannie143]

Switching it up...

Reader: bf!Bangchan x domfem!reader; Established relationship

Synopsis: You and Chan come back from spending the holidays together at family’s house. When you get back, you propose something for the both of you to try in the bedroom. Curious, Chan accepts the proposal but ends up turning into a different kind of proposal…

Warnings: fluff & smut, pegging, vibrator, MDNI!!!

~

a/n:  This is my first published fanfic!! PLS leave feedback if you so desire. I welcome constructive criticism.

Inspired by one of my insane daydreams. I’m honestly so infatuated by him, it’s concerning. Anyway– this is for a specific audience…

Have fun.

Y/N’s pov

Chan and you both sigh of relief when the door opens to your shared penthouse apartment. After spending 2 weeks, each with both sides of the family, all you want to do is cuddle up to him without worrying about whose family member might interrupt. 

You stride your suitcases into the doorway while kicking off your shoes. You can see the exhaustion in his face too. It makes you smile a bit to know that you’re both on the same page. 

“I love family, but 2 weeks is too long to hold off on touching you.” He groans with a slight smirk and eyeing you while you slump onto the cozy living room couch. He follows suite, laying on top of you which causes you to huff a bit from the weight of him, but you welcome it always. Running your hands through his hair, he hums at your touch. Until your stomach rumbles.

“You hungry love?” He says from your chest.

“I guess so, but I am so tired. I really don’t have the energy to make anything.”

“Yeah, me neither. Let’s just order takeout.” He lifts his head from your chest to look at you. God he looks so beautiful even in his exhausted state. “Chinese or Thai?” He asks.

“Thai, of course. And get a double order of spring rolls. I think I could murder a whole plate of those things.” He chuckles at your declaration. 

“Alright, it’ll be here in 30. Let’s just nap until then, hmm? You’re the best pillow.” He snuggles closer on top of you, resting his head on your chest once again. You feel his eyelashes brush closed against your skin. You feel much more at peace in the comforting embrace of him which soon lulls you into sleep, your breaths matching the same pace. 

~

Suddenly the timer on his phone rings out but he doesn’t budge. Between the both of you, he is the heavier sleeper— but somehow you’re able to sleep through his insane dragon-like snoring.    Usually.

After turning the alarm off, you hear the doorbell ring. He stirs in his sleep as you slip out from underneath him. Immediately you feel cold from his loss of touch, but those spring rolls are calling your name and you can smell it through the door. You open up to the delivery guy holding the bag of food. You thank him and snag a $20 from Chan’s wallet (It’s what he usually does, so you don’t feel any way about it). The delivery guy bows and walks away as you close the door.

Placing the food out on the kitchen to plate, you yawn and feel hands wrap around your waist from behind with his breath fanning on your neck. He’s always so clingy after cuddling. 

“You smell like laab gai” he moans into your neck, sniffing. Even after being in a relationship for a year and 3 months, he manages to give you butterflies over every single thing. 

“That’s the food, babe.” You chuckle and turn a bit to kiss his cheek. He contentedly sighs and reaches out for a bite. You slap his hand. “I’m fixing your plate up now, you can wait.” You snap at him playfully. He straightens up behind you, “Yes ma’am” he says back.

The both of you make your way to the dining table. Relatively big for the two of you, but is enough to accommodate for when the members come over. For the most part, at least. Sometimes the guys will bring a partner over for when you’re hosting a get-together or small birthday party. But even though you have all this dining space to spare, Chan still pulls you into his lap and feeds you like a kid.

“I don’t know why you make two plates when we always share. Such a waste of dishes” He snickers. 

“Just shut up and put it in my mouth.” He raises an eyebrow. Of course he’s going to make it dirty. I mean, the both of you have been forced to keep your hands off of each other for the past 2 weeks (except for the occasional make out session when no one was around).

“Don’t look at me like that,” You say while shoving the food back his way, “Just because you’re pent up doesn’t mean you can have your way.” He laughs, throwing his head back and looking back at you.

“Sorry, you’re just too tempting” He goes back to focusing on the food and you can’t help but think back to something that’s been on your mind. You never brought it up because you weren’t sure how he’d react, but you figure you’re far enough into the relationship to express your bedroom fantasies.

“What’s on your mind, gorgeous?” He asks, pulling you from your thoughts. You meet his eyes and his gaze shifts. He must see the mischievous look on your face.

“Nothing.. I just..” You avoid his gaze. You know how much he hates it when you don’t follow through with your thoughts. He values honesty and there’s nothing you guys haven’t already told each other. Well, except for this…

He raises a brow, anticipating the rest of your sentence. “Ok, I have a question. And I don’t expect anything, nor will I be disappointed if you reject the idea.”

“Okayy…” He says in his thick accent with intrigue. He’s analyzing your features like he’s going to find the question you want to ask on your face. 

“So… Also if this makes you at all uncomfortable, please just throw the fact that I even asked out the window.” 

“Y/N, just spit it out” He says a bit more sternly. Maybe the exhaustion from our trip has worn his patience thin.

“OK.. ok.. So I just.. Have you ever been pegged?” Scared to see his reaction, you look at him regardless. His eyebrows raise so far up his face, they might fly off and his eyes have widened in surprise. Shit. He’s probably disgusted.

He turns his head away from you, finding the food on the plate to be more interesting than answering you right now. 

“Please say something… I’m getting nervous.” He pulls his face back towards yours, his expression a bit more relaxed than it was when you proposed the idea of… yeah. 

“I- I mean.. I’m not against it. I think I should give it a try,” He chuckles, his expression returning to a less concerning one, “I’m just more surprised that that’s something you’ve fantasized about.”

“Do you think it’s weird? Seriously, if you don’t want to, I won’t force you and also won’t be disappointed.” You assure him.

“That’s not it at all, honestly.” He wears a grin on his face now. “I want to try it.”

You can’t fight back the grin mirrored onto your face as well. You’re already getting aroused at the thought. You shift a bit in his lap as he holds you tighter and then picks you up, bridal style.

“Oh! Now!?” You’re a bit shook when he pads down the hallway into your bedroom with you still in his arms. “Why not? Too tired?” He remarks with that same lusty grin on his lips and a dance of his eyebrows. 

“I mean, ok…” He lays you down on the bed, followed by a simply protective kiss on your temple, “I’m in your hands, where do you want me?”

It shocks you a bit— his willingness. Where he is usually the dominant one in bed, a dynamic switch is not completely foreign to you both. Every now and then you have the urge to be a “femme fatale”, and he welcomes it, usually with an insane hard-on.

“Just lie back on the bed.” He complies immediately as you go over to your nightstand, pulling out the long vibrating stick of silicone and something to help it slide. You’re hot from the idea of this going through. It’s not a fantasy that you’ve been super eager for. You could definitely go without trying this little experiment, but you’re feeling ecstatic that you get the chance to fulfill it. Just another thing to check off your kinky bucket list.. that Chan definitely doesn’t know about. Maybe you don't always tell each other exactly everyyything, but it won't hurt for him to not know.

He watches as you prepare the accessories, his clothes already on the floor. You’re still in your lounge fit from the airport—a simple pair of leggings and camisole, as you had shed your sweater the first thing when you got home. “Ok, I’m going to put this in the back, is that ok?” You meet his gaze to find his consent. He nods and you proceed. His cock is already standing up at attention and twitching, so you’re not too concerned, but you do start with 2 fingers. If you need prep when using this toy, you’re sure he does too.

You watch his face for any sign of discomfort as you stretch him open. He doesn’t make any expression besides an occasional wince. A ghost of a smirk plays on your lips, seeing the role reversal where you’re usually the one preparing to be stretched out. “How do you feel? Is it uncomfortable? Let me know if it is” you ask.

“Nah, nah it’s good. I’m just getting used to it-“ he moans once you reach his prostate. He hides his face immediately embarrassed after. It’s so fucking cute. “I’ll take care of you, babe” You reassure. His cock twitches once more and he tells you he’s ready. Sliding the long toy in, he swears as it reaches all the way in. You figure it’s long enough to reach if you were able to find his spot with your short fingers. You turn it on to the lowest vibration setting. As soon as you do, you feel his whole body jolt. You take that as confirmation to set the setting up higher, pulling more moans from his mouth. It’s hot as fuck too, you’re already drenched yourself.

“Ah fuck- babe, that’s-“ He mutters underneath his breath, but it doesn’t seem like a bad reaction. He’s finally able to calm his breathing and begins to ask, “Wh- what the hell made you think of this?”

“Do you not like it? Your body is telling me otherwise” And with that, the dynamic finally shifts and you smoothly slip into your dominant role. He feels it too, pre-cum leaking from his tip. It’s straining so hard that the vein pops out along the curve of his dick.

“Fuck, I need more. I need-“ You cut him off, answering his pleading with a hand pumping from his base to the tip. His whole body shudders at the feeling and you can tell he’s getting close, but trying to keep it in. He likes the long game. You know this from the countless times he’s edged you or made you wait for his release too. “Is this good baby? You’re so pretty like this Channie,”

As much as he tries, he can’t help from letting out the guttural moans and groaning as you set the vibration setting to the highest. He’s leaking so much from his tip that you don’t even need the lube anymore. You kiss along his v-line above his pubic area. One of your favorite spots, turning the innocent kisses into pure-lustful licks, teasing his cock of the sensation. He’s begging and moaning for more and while you want to tease him more, you get an idea that’s going to send him over the edge. You move up to his face, getting ready to kiss him when he breaks the distance before you can even make the move first, encapturing your lips in a desperate kiss, biting your lip and moaning before throwing his head back onto the pillows.

“Mmm you’re so needy for me, baby. You want more?” you say in his ear, teasing your lips along the shell of his ear. He moans just from the tone of your voice, “if you don’t fucking touch me now, y/n I swear-“ you cut him off once again by pumping him in your small hand. He throws his head back so far in pleasure, you wonder if he’s trying to see the headboard or something.

Going through with your idea, you make your way down between his thighs. Caressing his defined inner thighs, you can’t help but admire his body. He’s worked so hard for it and you really want to show him how beautiful he is. Praise might be your kink, but who says you just have to receive it?

With his breathing getting more uneven and his eyelids squeezing shut as hard as they can, you know he is close. You want to give him one more surprise though before letting him cum. Might as well play this out exactly as you’ve imagined it, if not farther. You make your way in between his legs, encasing his balls in your mouth. Instantly he’s reacting, the sexiest moans slipping from his full lips. You think to yourself that you’re probably loving his reactions more than he is enjoying this. You increase the pace of your hand and sucking harder when you feel his balls tighten in your mouth. Quickly- you pull back to watch as he comes. It’s a sight you would pay your life’s worth of savings to see for the first time again. 

First—ropes of his cum leak out from his tip, but when you increase the toy to its highest setting as the cherry on top, thin, watery liquid sprays from his cock. Your eyes widen and you can’t help but let your jaw hang. This was not what either of you had expected. It leaks all over his toned body, dripping down every curve, leaking onto the comforter and some had even sprayed onto your clothes. 

“Shit..” You can’t hold back. That was probably the most intense thing you’ve ever seen. You try to bite back your smile, partly prideful from enticing such a reaction from his, but also because you most definitely creamed your pants at the sight of his pleasure. He hides his face with his arm. You think you see tears falling from his eyes. He’s concerningly quiet. Maybe he didn’t like it? Maybe he was actually uncomfortable or that was painful for him? “Chan..” He doesn’t respond.

For a second you just sit there watching him avoid you. He won’t respond to your questioning, so you let it go. “Ok, well I have to at least get this toy out. I’m gonna take it out slowly ok?” He doesn’t respond, just quickly nods. You pull it out slowly and he winces at the feeling. Once removed, you leave him on the bed as you go to the bathroom to wash it. After a few minutes, he rouses from the bed and walks into the bathroom. Still giving you the silent treatment, he turns on the shower and climbs in. You feel really bad and regret even asking. Once finished, you put the stupid thing back in your nightstand drawer. You put a pair of his boxers on the sink counter in the bathroom for him when he gets out and change the comforter since its now drenched. The sheets and pillows seem save for the crumpling from his aggressive squirming.  

~ 

After about 30 minutes, you’re relaxing on the bed, scrolling through your phone- Chan emerges from the bathroom with his boxers you laid out for him and a towel on his shoulder. If you weren’t worried about his silent treatment, you’d have tried to settle the arousal you feel just by looking at him when he’s fresh out of the shower. He doesn’t even spare you a glance, just paces straight for his at-home studio. You know for sure now that he’s pissed. You don’t know what else to do since he won’t talk to you, so you pull up your mutual friend Felix’s contact. 

Y/N: Hey Felix, do you have a sec? It’s about Chan and I’m kinda worried… Also tmi warning…

Not long after, Felix read your text and you anticipate his reply as the three bubbles pop up.

Felix pov

“Erm.. Okay..” Felix says aloud. He’s at a cafe with Changbin, Seungmin, Hyunjin, and Minho at the moment. Their previous conversation being about the future movie they were making plans to see. Felix’s mumble stirs up curiosity from the rest of the boys. “What is that?” Seungmin asks, sitting next to him. He glances at Felix’s phone, where Felix is looking between two chats. One from you and another from Chan, both reading along the lines of “Felix.. I need advice. Tmi”, to put it plainly. 

“I think something is up with y/n and Chan..” Felix says still looking at his phone. He opens up Chans message first, reading aloud to the group, “‘Oi Felix, do you have a minute? I need some advice. It’s gonna be tmi though.’ and then y/n sent me, ‘Hey Felix, do you have a sec? It’s about Chan and I’m kinda worried… Also tmi warning…’” He looks up at the group, his own concern met with the expression of confusion and worry on the other boys’ faces. 

“Tmi..? What do you think that means?” Changbin asks. Felix looks back down between the messages, “I don’t know…”. He responds to each of your messages similarly.

Felix: What’s up? Everything ok?

He replies to both of your chats. First he gets a detailed paragraph response back from you.

Y/N: Yeah.. here’s the thing. So we had tried something in the bedroom that is very different for both of us… I won’t go into details unless you ask. Anyway, I thought he was feeling really good and liked until afterwards when he just randomly started giving me the silent treatment. I haven’t bothered him about it, and he’s holed up in his studio now after showering, but I’m just getting worried. 

Felix: Umm… I’m not sure that I need to know what you did, but he’s probably just shocked. Maybe he liked it more than he thought or maybe he hated it more than he thought. Or maybe he’s just embarrassed about his reaction. I mean he did… like.. come.. right?

Y/N: Yeah… definitely… It was wild like more than just that…

Felix: Oh shit… Damn… He’s probably just embarrassed then XD

Y/N: OK.. sorry to spring this on you. I don’t think he’s ever done what we did before so that must be why he’s so embarrassed. Thanks for the help Felix.

Felix recites back to the group what you sent him and how he responded. The group is definitely more invested in this now and he switches over to the conversation with Chan. 

Felix: What’s up bro? Everything alright mate?

Chan: Yeah.. No.. Fuck idk

Felix: Ok… What’s goin’ on?

Felix sort of has an idea now that he’s talked to you first, but he’s only going to figure out for sure how Chan feels if he coaxes it out of him.

Chan: Ok so.. Fuck it, its really tmi but Im just gonna tell you.

Felix: I’m waiting…

Chan: Ok so y/n said she’d been thinking about uh doing me from the back, yeah? And so I agreed because I was curious and I fucking love it when shes in charge. Shes so fucking hot like that but anyway, So i agreed and it was fine I guess but then jesus she did some shit and dude I actually fucking squirted everywhere. Is that the term? I dont fucking know but it felt so good I didn’t really know how to process it.

Chan: I feel bad because I couldn’t even stand to see her face afterwards and i’ve been giving her the silent treatment since it happened. Fuck i feel like such an asshole. 

Felix: HAHAHAHAHAAH THIS SHIT IS HILARIOUS

Chan: BRO I ASKED FOR ADVICE NOT YOUR JUDGEMENT

Felix: OK! OK! Calm down.. Did you like it?

Chan:…. Yeah. I mean that’s definitely the hardest i’ve ever… y’know…

Felix tells the group about Chan’s experience and how he’s feeling. Their reactions are priceless. “Well, he is bisexual so that makes sense why he was open to it, but I guess he just didn’t realize that it’d be different” Seungmin speaks up. Minho give his input too, “The important thing is if he enjoyed it or not. If he did, then he’s probably just in shock from the way it felt. I don’t understand why he feels the need to block off y/n though..” The group nods in agreement and Felix goes back to the their texts.

Felix: Ok, so what did you need advice on? You liked it, so what’s the problem?

Chan: I don’t know. Fuck I just I actually almost asked her to marry me after that. And I’m fucking embarrassed that that experience was what made me almost say it. I mean that has to be the least bit romantic way to propose. 

Felix: oH shit! It must’ve been life-altering. 

Chan: Yeah.. we cleared that already..

Felix: Sorry lol. So what, you regret wanting to propose to her? I thought you were already thinking about marrying her anyway?

Chan: Yeah. I definitely want to. I guess. I just wanted to clear my head from the embarrassment. I would’ve been more embarrassed and regretful if I had actually proposed to her because she made me cum so hard.

Chan: Anyway, im good now. Thanks mate.

Felix: Alrighty. Later

The group finds his whole situation interesting and decide to make that the new topic of the night while you try to distract yourself from the unease you've been feeling since Chan started ignoring you...

Y/N pov

Chan finally returns from his studio, knocking quietly on the door. You found yourself engrossed in a book you've been trying to get through for the past 2 months as a distraction. You're nervous as he somberly stalks over the bed, the empty side where he usually lays. You watch him carefully, not wanting to speak up in hopes that he will finally talk to you. 

He crawls onto the bed next to you slowly, sitting by your legs. As soon as he eases into a comfortable position, he looks up at you. You can feel the pain in his eyes when he sees your worried face. 

"Listen, I- I'm not mad at you or anything" He speaks up. 

Your posture visibly relaxes and you lean your head back against the pillows. "Chan I was so worried I had hurt you—" he places his hand on your thigh, lovingly stroking it with his thumb like he often does to comfort you. 

"It's not that, honestly it was the best thing I've ever felt in my life. I had no clue I could even cum that hard. For fucks sake, I thought I was going to blackout from the pleasure," He chuckles and you try to hold back a grin as you look back at him.

"So then why did you shoo me away? And you didn't even say anything." You ask him, willing an explanation.

"I know. That was immature. I was just so fucking embarrassed..." He looks up at you and can't help but being honest with you, after all, it's the virtue of your relationship. "I was fucking ready to propose to you after that. And I was embarrassed not just because of how fucking hard I came, but because that's not how I wanted to pop the question, per se". You could feel your cheeks heating up. You felt super relieved to know that it wasn’t because you pushed him past his limits.

“If that’s what it took to get you to propose to me, I would have suggested the idea forever ago” the both of you laugh together and finally settle back into your comfortable energy. The heat returning to your cheeks, he’s probably thinking about how you’re feeling about his indirect proposal. Not wanting to keep him waiting, “But… I would marry you. In case you were wondering..” He lifts his head so abruptly to meet your eyes with a mixture of excitement and surprise. “Maybe.. we just don’t tell anyone that this is how it happened”. You both chuckle at the thought and he agrees. 

You pat the spot next to you on the bed and he immediately comes forth to embrace you, wrapping his arms around you torso while he lays his head in your lap. You move your hand to play with his damp curls. The both of you lovingly looking into each others eyes, knowing that there’s nothing that can come between this bond you both have. 

“I have a confession though,” You raise an eyebrow and wait for him to continue. “..I confided in Felix when I went to the studio to clear my head. So… He knows.” You can’t help but laugh at his admission. “That’s funny, because I did too.” He lifts his head up from your lap and you both laugh from your bellies full-heartedly.

For a moment, everything subsides. From the bittersweet exhaustion of being away with family to the emotional rollercoaster in the past 2 hours. Now it’s just the two of you again with nothing to keep from one another, and a whole lot more to explore in the future together. He hums in content as he gazes at your lips. Moving in, he gently places his lips on yours. You never shy away from a kiss from him. He always feels like a warm cloud and specifically tastes like sweet dates. Deepening the kiss, all of your worries melt away. He has that kind of effect. And just when you tried to get more, he pulls away only to continue peppering kisses across your face. Your usual night routine, that he sometimes likes to take over.

Laying back down next to you, you turn off the light and cuddle up against him. Like a reflex, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him. The soothing beat of his heart quickly lulling you to sleep.

“So what did you have in mind next?” He asks daringly. After a light laugh between the two of you, you respond. “Maybe a cock ring?” You burst out laughing as his face goes pale in shock and his body stiffens. “I guess this is what I signed up for” He relents. 

[sea-of-dust]

You gotta be kidding...

5wirl x GN! Reader

Summary: They make a reference to something personal between you two while performing live. Almost putting a spotlight on you.

Notes: Modern AU, mention of irl video game and band: Remmber Sports (they're good recommend Tiny Planets),

Warnings: suggestive humor, swearing, never expect proof reading

He met you before he was an idol. High school to be exact. You two were in the same music class bonding over how much you dreaded your music teacher. "He sounds like a divorced mom.." "isn't he married?" "Exactly" you flop onto your desk

You two have been in almost every class together years afterward, just so you didn't have to work with a stranger for group projects. People would would find you two around school alot and walking home together. "And they were roommates," one of your classmates giggle as you two casually hold hands while speaking to eatchother, in reality, you both didn't notice

He was always so calm but also somehow could smell your problems?!? "Ughhhh" "Lemme guess they chewed gum loudly again?" You spring up placing your head back down. "Stop knowing based off my grunts!" "And you're mad at me for not noticing something earlier" "HA!-" "nm it's because I didn't let you sleep in" "...I genuinely despise you"

He started catching feelings midway through your first semester of the new school year. You did notice he sometimes hugged you tighter, looked at you a little longer, he even got small trinkets for you, noticing how fond he looked when you casually wore them.

It was by the end of the year he had told you he got a scouted as an idol, it took alot for him to tell you but it worked thank god you didn't ditch him like he thought.

"So uh..." "?" "I got scouted" your eyes widen, he thought all his fears came to life before you hugged him tightly and squealed. "I TOLD YOU YOU HAD A NICE VOICE!!" "You didn't have to yell" "Shut up you cry over stuff like this!" Now you were the one that oddly knew things about him...you were right...he did cry...alot like the whole group knew the next day.

The group try to hype him up into asking you out. "DUDEEEE COME ON THEYRE NOT GOING ANYWHERE" "I can ask to hangout" he mutters holding his phone in his hand "COME ONNN" venti and heizou sync up kazuha speaking up "ask them to go for dinner" his cheeks turn pink almost instantly "UH MAYBE NOT COME ON- WHAT IF-" "and sent" "WHEN DID YOU TAKE MY PHONE?!" "You'll live" Xiao rolls his eyes as aether bickers with him, his phone noti goes off. "Sure what time?" There's a silence in the room as Xiao gives him the phone. "At 4?" "bet ☆" you and those star emojis how are you like this. "ITS A DATE!!" "YEAAAAAAA" they sounded like a frat house.

He gets all giddy on that date and when you two finally go on one you finally hit the maybe were dating phase but you both don't wanna admit it to eatchother. So the rest of 5wirl planned something for you two. "Alr we know he likes them nowww...." "we...." "Why don't we perform for them" "on their friend ani?" "How do you know that..." they turn to heizou "because he saved it on his calander" "..." and so they planned out your ani for you two.

And so their evil plans acted out perfectly, you two went out on another date and later that day you dropped him off at the concert. What you didn't expect was heizou dragging you to a seat. "Stay right here and don't move alright" you watched them get on stage aether seeming to be looking for you, they get to performing when one of the lyrics hit you. "Hey why don't you meet me at four?" An almost slured pronunciation followed by aether finally finding you. His eyes so tender yet teasing. You felt your heart skip a beat a small wink only making you more bashful.

To think the performance would end there nope. As you tried to get off your seat aether greets you with a cheeky smile a small ring in his hand. You turn around quickly. "I guess I flustered you more than he ever will" he leans on you wrapping his arms casually around your waist while you continues to fluster you. "He was just a small crush..." "enough to have you gush for 4 months about it" he laughs softly kissing you cheek. "When did you even gain this much confidence" "small words of advice" your mind immediately goes to Heizou. "Alrighty then..." without a warning you pull your face closer forcing him to slouch over you. "Did heizou tell you what to do incase of this situation aswell?" Thank god that concert hall was almost empty and the seat you were at made it almost impossible to see you two because the next thing you see and hear are a bunch of idiots going YEAAAAAAAAAAA. Aether x y/n shirts and a poster held up by Xiao. They ship it.

You made cute accessories! He's seen your work on social media and reached out. "You're accessories are so cute do you have a store?" "Nah I only sell locally near my college" turns out you both went to the same college he's never did a double check so fast in his life. As soon as he saw you he cupped one of your hands, his eyes sparkling in pure joy. "GIMMIE EVERYTHING IN STOCK!" "HUH?!"

Number one fan he's following you around. He'd be your personal advertisement always wearing your stuff and flexing it to others. He WILL be the most annoying person on campus

When you tell him to stop he just kinda tilts his head until he realizes what your saying as if he finally loaded. "Oh! Alright!" That's when you make an almost massive mistake "I did enjoy your support tho but youre-" "SO YOU LIKE HAVING A FAN?!" And so began the simping. He's all over you. Every class your with him? He's leaning into you, whispering random stuff in your ear. Your eyebags got darker everytime he did this but he was more chill than your online fans.

The days you also leaned into him are the days you've never seen someone more flustered. "Hm?" You lift up your head watching him cover his face quickly. "Venti?" He turns away from you even more. "Don't look at me! Where did you even learn that-" "I mean you do that to me all the time" "don't say it outloud-" "did you just whimper?" He stops suddenly using is braids to cover his face as he mumbles to himself. You bring that up to traumatize him

He had to get used to you showing affection, you weren't even dating yet! Come on, don't do this! Even a small smile he'd tease you for it but he'd definitely scream into his pillow about it.

He only asked you out when you made your feeling for him known. A small note under his door telling asking him to meet up at an amusement park later that weekend was where it clicked he looked and sounded like a little girl you could hear his "YEAAAAAAAA" from your room.

He's doing everything he's on a call with the others he just needs them to hear his my story animated from start to finish. "Can you not play that effen punk music main stream shit can barely hear you" "Shut the fuck up hot topic this is important!" "This is why you fucked up your eyeliner" "I DID?!?!" He checked in his mirror realizing he didn't and mostly argued with Xiao. "If they ditch you you deserve it" "quit being a downer! Good luck Venti!" They all mostly wave at the camera before hanging up leaving you and him alone for the evening

He loved it. He was like a child pointing at things he wanted. "Do you have the money?" He looks away pounting "not an actual question I'll play for it" his eyes widen almost sparkling. You two left flexing your carnival game knowledge and venti covered in plush prizes you won for him.

As payback for the newfound plush army, he invited you to a concert. "Oh so you did have money" "Shut up" "hehe" your teasingly small laugh is so cute stop doing that. What you didn't know is that he strapped some keychains you made on his belt, and he NEVER STOPPED WINKING, if you had to drink everytime he found you in the audience and winked you'd have five drinks...per song. It was cute seeing him smirk whenever you slightly blushed at him.

"Y/n!!" He smiles as you wait for him outside the concert hall. "Lets go to another amusement park!" He giggles embracing you "right now?" "Yea!" He nuzzles his face into your chest "sure..when you take off all of those keychains Jesus how much did you-" "200 bucks" "...VENTI" "THEYRE CUTE I KNOW YOU EYED THEM!" You blush slightly smirking "I did...they look adorable on you" you struck him right in the heart leaving both of you flustered. "The amusement parks a few blocks away" "LETS GO!" as if it never happened you both headed to the amusement park.

You beat him at a rhythm game he liked. You got first in a video game event he liked since then him he's declared you his rival. "Who the hell is this guy getting in the way of the number one spot" he grits his teeth checking your profile. "347 full combed songs...300 all perfects...and maxed out cards" he rolls his eyes

He wanted to let off some steam at an arcade only to find out he got beat in that game also! With the same name tag as the rythum game champ. He nearly smashes the machine when he notices you step up to it. "Shame, this games kinda better when I'm kicking someone's ass..." You sigh only now, noticing him, smirking at this chance you take it. "You mind playing this with me?" You perk up. Thinking this is a good way to let off steam, he accepts. "I won't go easy." "Alright!" You let him pick the song and almost immediately grab the handbar

Strange, he thinks he doesn't need it. As soon as the song starts, he hears your feet absolutely slam on the board. He's shocked but doesn't look over he's focused on his side of the screen. By the end, you huff heavily, looking up. "You won." You put your fist up for a fist bump. "Ah that songs so annoying~" he dosent give you one back putting in his names for national ranks. That's when he noticed that you put in the name the person on every rythum game had and as soon as you pressed confirm he nearly pounces on you. "SO YOURE THE ONE TAKING THE NUMBER 1 SPOTS EVERYWHERE!" "Yea what about it-" he looks at you angrily, calming down a bit before turning back to you. "I declare you my rival" "well...If you wanna we could rematch sometime gimmie your number?"

Ever since then you two have skeduled days to go to the arcade to whale on eatchother and going out to eat afterword. "I'm pretty sure you'd like it reminds me of your face ☆" you say as you point to a horrible cgi skeleton. "Screw you" "heh". You'd eventually open up to him more and invited him out to places more often. He didn't wanna say it outloud but he genuinely enjoyed those moments

One of the times you two went, you try to teach him gutair hero, he kinda mumbles to himself. "You can just play on your lap" "hmmhmm mhm em You can't be this msm hm" "what-" he realizes he said that outloud and covers his face nearly dropping the gutair. "I didn't hear that last part" he sighs in relief "but do you think im cute?" And so he's even more ashamed of himself. "Context clues" you scratch your cheek in a bit of embrassment "I think you're pretty cute too" you embarssingly laugh leaning away

you're pretty sure you could see his heart skip a beat as he looks up at you, his face nearly entirely pink. Peaking at you through his hand. You decide to tease your friend. "Seems like you wanna date me~" He moves back quickly, covering his mouth to hide his blushing. "I'm fine with that ya know~" you lean into him him still covering his face. He looks away looking back at you,his eyes softening "I'm fine with the thought of kissing you..well maybe a little more than fine but-" your words were cut off as you feel his lips touch yours. Quick yet soft, his hands wrapping around your shoulders. You lean back trying to catch your breath "...how long have you've been waiting to do that?" "...a few months now" "That's kinda adorable Xiao" you lean in for another kiss. You two recount that day as your first date

Ever since then he's more willing to hang out a little more clingy too. Whenever he had a show he would ask you if you were busy that day before sending you the ticket link. "Hey are you busy on the 14th?" "No why?" He'd send you the link without a secound thought "you know I'm not really into idols that much" "I'm in the group..." "...bought"

He actively looks for you in the audience. You would text him where you were sitting beforehand, yet he'd still look like a lost puppy. As soon as he finds you, his eyes sparkled. He forced himself to calm down before giving you a small wave

It was by the end of the show where he was performing the last song and you noticed something about their dance it kinda looked like what you would do on a song you knew well. It was then that you realized Xiao made a dance routine inspired by your sweaty gaming dance. You covered your face in embrassment but peaked through your hands. You couldn't believe he paid that much attention to you. He smirks noticing this

As the show ends, he runs over to you, "That was...a little embrassing" you blush a bit. "..." "dosent mean I didn't like it tho!" Trying not to offend him further you mumble on of how great the performance was. At first he's pretty stiff with his arms crossed you'd think he was annoyed till he kissed you again leaning in to hug you. "I'm glad you liked it" he whispers ever so softly in your ear.

He offen saw you working on projects for bands he likes and decided to commission you. He invited you to a studio and you both began to focus on what he commissioned you on. "I'm looking for something calm yet something someone would listen to in the morning to wake them up..." "hmmm" you play a calm chord progression on your gutair. "Speed up a bit" he taps his foot as if keeping pace as you speed up your playing. "That's pretty good! Sounds like a Remmber sports song" " YOU LISTEN TO THEM?" "Yea?" "Oh my god I thought you wouldn't catch that-" "they're a bit of a guilty pleasure"

You two always worked together after that whenever he would be lost in thought you'd just play hall of the mountain king behind him. He'd turn around slowly as your playing got more intense. "You think of something?" "..."

You pretty much became 5wirl's offical gutairst after kazuha recommended you. They'd make fun of him for how long you two stayed at the studio together. "Kazuha~, you left us sleeping in the shopping cart again!" Venti grins ear to ear "must really like that gutairst." Kazuha smiles."They're just a friend I find it easy to get along with" he thinks about what you two were talking about his eyes softening as if it were an old fond memory "and he's doing it again" heizou sighs jokingly

A few months of performing together, they treat you as family, almost apart of 5wirl. As soon as Kazuha ever left the room they'd turn to you in a heartbeat. "You sure you don't kiss when we're not looking?" "Eh?!" "Does kazuha usually get all mumbly around you" "he does but-" "I KNEW IT" "dose he show you his unironic leaf collection" they all lean in expectingly. "No wha-" You made sure kazuha was too far to hear what you were about to say "...OK so this one time..." they listened to you like their lives depended on it.

The day you told them about that is the day you regret the most, they always looked you and kazuha up and down. Snicker to themselves. "How much you wanna bet they might kiss today" "CAN YOU TWO CUT IT OUT" you let out a sigh walking into the recording studio to practice, a familiar humming following you in a few secounds later. You two sing together and when you finish he finally speaks up. "You know... this the song I was playing when I first realized I was into you" "heh really" you stop strumming, realizing what he said "wait what-" he laughs softly at your reaction placing a hand on your cheek. "That songs kinda special to me..." he holds your hand tenderly with his unbandaged hand. "Reminds me of how much I love you" your eyes widen a bit as he looks at you with the most soft eyes. "I love you too kazuha" you smile gently, letting him lean in to kiss you

All of them noticed you two were dating it was odvious, the way you two acted around eatchother gave litterally everything away. "You two give eatchother less personal space than before are you dating?" "What?" "And you smell like him-" "how do you know what he smells like" "so you're dating?!" "How did you come to that conclusion?!" You and venti would bicker trying to hide your relationship with kazuha after he forgot to tell you he already told them.

Finally a show came along a small gig surprising a popular idol group would show, but still nice. You looked at the music sheet for the song looked up at him, sighed, and looked back. He looked so pleased giving you a few riffs and you look down to see another reason to go to therapy.

What he didn't put on hell on paper was a very veryyy familiar cord progression. He played it himself and put it in post. Making another version so if you ever asked you wouldn't notice, and a few weeks later they went live

You watched them in the audience, hearing the song you helped on and felt your smile fade into a straight face as you heard your solo along with the memorable melody gutair. He saw this trying to avoid a giggle while performing, he's suffering from you brainrot the rest of the show, some fancams caught him getting kicked by heizou or Xiao.

"So how did you like the show~" "Xiao almost kicked you off the stage..." There's a silence. "He dosent kick hard enough for that...but at least you enjoyed it" he smiles, pinching your cheeks and rubing your face, you look away hearing him giggle at your behavior. "I'll make you a coffee-" "don't you dare make a reference" he smirks at you "hehe"

You were online friends usually playing main stream games or random stuff you found. Youd always play together though, never single player! He hates that

"Are you playing a single player game..." "no-" "LIAR ITS ON YOUR STATUS" "SHIT- I mean I have no idea what your talking about" "...atleast stream it" he always got all pouty when he couldn't play with you

He'd definitely randomly interrogate you because you found something out on someone you both knew. "IS IT ABOUT-" "shush shus shu stfu quiet" "oh come on dude what is she gonna hear you?" "We're in a public call" "oh...LMAO" "DUDE"

When you combine both these loves, his love for you playing a co-op detective game with you has become the best thing for him to ever experience. "Who will be first to solve this?" "We're supposed to work together heizou" "oh...oh 😏" "nevermind I'm gonna play hitman without you" his avatar suddenly turns to face you and emotes a shocked reaction "OH COME ON"

He started catching feelings for a while. Ever since you two got on a call for the first time, your voice kinda intransted him. "Your voice Is so nicee" muttering into the mic yet you heard him clearly. "Thank you?" "It really is" its like you can see him currently slumped over his desk just day dreaming about you.

Didn't stop your offline friend for teasing you about him too. "Ooo he's into you~" "nuh uh nope nope!" The tips of your ears turn a pink. "And you like him back might aswell seal the deal" "STOP IT!" Blushing heavily you slam your hand down. Unsurprisingly Heizous in a simular situation 4nemo teasing him over just how much he talks about you. "Ohhh they're so cool" "they smell nice" "stop mocking me" he huffs "then get with them" they say in sync "stop weirdly harmonizing" he sits down covering his currently pink face.

Didn't help when you two first saw eatchother. "What the hell you live so closeby" "I know right what's next you're at my favorite Cafe conveniently the next table over" you turn over your shoulder seeing someone smile at their phone turn back and type "you mentioned before you had moles under both eyes right?" The persons face dropping looking around."Yea?" Without typing back, you walk over sitting infrot of him. "Bro, someone's sitting at my table, hold on" you smile at him typing back "oh sorry lemme just leave then my mistake 😔" "WAIT HUH?!?!" his eyes widen as he grabs your wrist "y/n?" small tears forming in his eyes pulling you into a hug with desperation. "Heizou" he hugs you tighter when he hears his name come out your mouth. "You're as pretty as I thought you'd be..." patting his head as he nuzzles into your chest. "You wanna go back to mine after this" "Yes!" With sudden enthusiasm, you two talk about your irl lives while bullying his drink of choice. "Pumpkin spice.." "oh my god shut up my again" "it's nasty" "it's good to me!!" "Shut up mom with 2 kids living in a van"

He's been going to your house at least once a week now "we should play together" he overbites his lip "I barely charged my secound controller" you overbite your lip back at him "then let's just hang out then I got news bby" visibly cringing at that last bit you let him in with him near instantly showing you a picture of him being accepted into an idol group. "Ohh you're gonna have real fangirls now" "Shut up!" "I'm gonna lead them just to make fun of you" "you're the only fangirl I'd date" "..." You visibly cringe "OH COME ON" "HAHAHA"

And so you were invited to the hell known as a debut concert and dear god was it near impossible to not be as hype as the crowd. Especially catching the fancams with him winking at you. Anyone could tell he was super inlove with whoever he was winking at especially after the group stopped in between a song witch you were barely paying attention to until you heard "I hope you guys never have to play solo!" Could have swore you felt him glare at you "speaking of solo the next songs title is-" all you paid attention to yet you look like you just woke up from a really loud noise.

"Y/n! Did you see it! Did ya like my moves" he smiles at you like a happy little dog. "It was surprisingly great Heizou" "surprising huh?" He pouts as if saddened by that comment. "But the show was amazing Heizou I'd go again" that bright glow of a smile you had is something hell never let go of, without hesitation he holds your hand "marry me" "come again?" "I mean it we should date!" Accidental slip up. He's screwed, you're gonna reject him so blatantly he's never gonna bother you again. "Heizou...that's so sudden" your eyes meet warmly "but I've been thinking the same" kissing his cheek you walk off letting him process what just happened. "WAIT WAIT WAIT YOURE NOT DITCHING ME AFTER SAYING THAT" "MAYBE I AM!" You had to run home that day but it was worth it laughing at him trying to keep up.

[katiascraft]

✐ᝰ "You knew all too well i was right where you left me" | CL16 ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊

parings: retired!charles leclerc x writer!ex!reader

series summary: It’s the story of a woman frozen in the moment her world fell apart. A perfect dinner ended with, “I met someone else,” and while everyone moved on, she remained stuck in that instant, unable to let go of the past. A poignant tale of heartbreak, grief, and the weight of being trapped in a “forever” that never was.

‎[one / two / three / four / current / six...]

chapter five

"there'll be happiness after you but there was happiness because of you too"

word count: 6k.

BLOG MASTERLIST - series masterlist

⋆˚࿔ i did something bad 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The kiss that started sweet and gentle turned into a passionate and steamy kiss in a fraction of a second. Franco felt kind of desperate. And to be fair, he was. He has waited his whole life for this moment to happen. Or at least all of these years since he met you. But he was convinced he won’t ever feel like this for any other girl in his entire life. He dated girls, fucked a few, played with them sometimes, tried to make it work. But none of them felt like you, laughed like you, thought like you, joked like you. None of them were you. And what was the craziest thing to him was that he had never tasted you. Not like this. He felt raised to heaven blessed by the gods. He felt like a kid who behaved properly and Santa brought him all of the presents he asked for during the year. A dream came true.  

His hands were all over your back and hips. His touch was warm and determined. He felt like he wanted to remember how you felt, the shape of you under his touch, how your skin felt, how warm he made you feel. 

His kisses were tracing a road down your neck. His lips were soft and wet. They made your skin crawl. Your fingers in his hair and shoulders trying to remain stood under his embrace. His skin was soft and his perfume was leaving you drunker by its whiskey scent. That smell defined him very well in your opinion. His skin was on fire. You couldn’t help but feel things you aren’t supposed to feel with your best friend. Well, you were doing things you’re not supposed to do with your bestie either. 

Your breath was heavy. Your heart rate elevated. He came back to your lips and the way he kisses you gently again burnt your body. You felt a heat you haven’t felt in a long time for anyone. If you didn’t remember to be this intense before. Franco was franco. And that implied that everything was different. Unique. He wasn’t like other guys. I mean, he was the most cheerful guy you have ever met. You couldn’t stop laughing around him. It  was impossible not to or have a serious conversation. But at the same time he was such a great listener. When you told him about Charles that you ended up crying, he was the most comforting person. You knew at that moment your friendship made a turn. A turn into one of the most precious relationships you have in your life. He was so comprehensive. It is actually so rare to meet someone like that in this fucked up society these days. 

And for some reason or maybe for all of those reasons, this felt really wrong. You didn’t want to hurt him. You always knew he liked you, of course you did. It was obvious. The way he looked at you. All out of context presents or compliments. All of his invitations to every grand prix during the year. The facetime calls at random times in the day just to check in. and you liked all of that but always tried to make sure you didn’t play with his feelings. Respecting spaces and distances. Codes. He was really important to you, you just couldn’t risk him just like that. Just for a kiss or sex. He deserved to be so happy with someone 100% into him. And you kinda hated destiny for making him like you when you were stuck with Charles and always into someone else (even failing every time). 

But now you hate yourself even more. Not only because you liked to torture yourself in a really twisted way. But also because you were actually kissing him and touching him in not a friendly way. Not the way you’re supposed to touch him. Or to kiss him. Or to spend your time with him. This was so wrong. You knew this would lead to drama. And the worst part is that you couldn’t stop. And maybe you didn’t want to. And why didn’t you? What is your brain planning to do? Making every situation you’re in worse than the previous one. 

And it was the worst scenario possible. You don’t know how you both ended up in Franco's room. His shirt was already off. Your lips were kissing his stomach going down. It was the best situation for him, that’s for sure. You promised to never get this drunk ever again. You stood up after reaching his boxers with your lips. And kissed him again like you wanted to rescued yourself from fuck it all up but at the same time not stopping at all. You were driving Franco insane and for a moment he felt a bit empty. Was this the beginning of something? Or was it just a once in a lifetime night? Thinking about all of this started hunting him. You have never given him signs that you liked him back. But you were one of his best friends. His hands grabbed your head possessively bringing you closer to him starting to lead you to his bed. You followed him, letting him do whatever he wanted with you. 

Were you ready to do this again? 

Surprising as it may sound, you haven’t had sex in a very long time. You liked to have fun with yourself and explore yourself. But it was hard for you to feel something towards someone and desire them this way. Because the only one who used to turn you on was charles. And there he was again in your head. He was always there hunting you. Franco pushed you softly into his bed climbing up on you. And that’s when you woke up from this trance you couldn’t quite comprehend. He was about to undress you when you pushed him again as softly as you could because you were now exasperated about the situation you put yourself under. Franco looked at you scared. He felt he has really fucked it up. 

“y/n i’m sorry, please. Perdon, I didn't mean to.. I’m sorry” he said, getting up and pulling his shirt on again as fast as he could. You tried to adjust yourself heading out the bedroom. You couldn’t face him now. You felt terrible about yourself. You didn’t know how to handle this situation. You were too drunk. But you also knew you wouldn’t know how to deal with this sober either. “y/n wait, please. Let’s talk” he could grab your hand to stop you from leaving the bedroom making you face him. You felt so embarrassed. You felt like a monster. You looked at his face. He was such a good guy and yet here you are about to break his heart. Why didn’t you stop? Why did you let him do this? You knew it was not only your responsibility, it was his as well but still. 

“I'm sorry fran, this shouldn’t have happened. I'm really sorry” when you said those words you could see how his face changed into a one that even broke your heart. He dropped your hand. He knew. He fucking knew you didn’t like him. Then why would you do this? And on his birthday?

You sprinted out of that room immediately. We can say you almost ran away from him. But the reality was that you wanted to run away from yourself and your stupid ass decisions who fucked everything up each single time. The hallway down to where the party was being held never felt so infinite. You knew your anxiety was becoming a bit too much for you at that moment. Catastrophic scenarios were playing on and on in your mind as you took each step down the stairs. The pressure in your chest increases when you see the people at the party. You felt like they were looking at you, judging. Laughing in your face. Howpathetic could you be? Not getting over your only ex fro more than 10 years, then almost fuck your friend thhat you wasn’t sure if you liked him like that for real or not,  then wanting to be over everything and then fucking everything up. You didn't know how to handle these situations. You felt like a teenager again. Too many mistakes. Too confusing. That made you feel ashamed of yourself. You were a 32 years old woman, acting like 17 years old, fucking up friendships while you couldn’t stop thinking of your ex. And that’s when you wanted to throw up. 

You didn’t want to find your friends. You didn’t want to tell them how you fuck it up with the one guy (once again) that is good for you. How you wasted his time and feelings. You felt like a monster. Like you played with him on purpose even if you actually didn’t want to. You were way too harsh on yourself sometimes. You needed to get out of there just like you got away when you first saw Charles again in that restaurant (or well, now it’s a coffee shop). 

It was running away from your fears, you couldn’t confront them. It was running away from you. You hated yourself. You couldn’t think straight and clear about yourself most of the time. The only moment you trusted yourself was when writing. And you also doubted yourself very much on it. You couldn’t win. Your self-confidence didn’t exist. You were sure about it. People were dancing while you were pushing them a bit to walk through the party out to the garden. You need fresh air in your brain as soon as possible. Or you were about to become insane if you didn’t. People said things to you but you didn’t hear. Your eyes locked on the floor. Your stomach was in your throat. The image of Charles stuck in your brain. 

I met someone. I met someone. I met someone. I met someone. I met someone. 

His lips moved, pronouncing those damn three words to your face. As if they were nothing. As if you were nothing at all for him. And maybe you were. You couldn’t imagine Franco saying those things to you, for example. Or maybe men were equal? Maybe you needed to experiment with girls. Maybe they are less complicated and more open. But maybe you were the problem. Too many thoughts per second. You jumped out of every single boat you ended up in. You didn’t know anymore. In your brain, things are too complicated and you know all too well you will need years to repair the damage made to it. From your dad and mum, to Charles and every single other guy you mate. To Franco and to this balcony where you would find someone maybe ready to love you like you matter, like you deserve to feel loved, like you’re amazing and beautiful. Then you were sure you were completely insane. There was no way you were always thinking about someone saving you from yourself. But there you were hoping to meet the love of your life in that gallery outside the party in Franco's house. Maybe writing and your imagination was rotting your brain. You thought about retiring and working in a library as a normal person would do. You didn’t know why you were thinking all of these things suddenly. 

Maybe you were tired and frustrated. You just gave up when you finally got to the garden. The cold air of London fills your lungs, helping you with your anxiety. Your body heat dropped. Your sweaty hands got dry and cold. Your nose is red. Your eyes closed. You were doing your breathing meditation. Your heart palpitations didn’t stop though. And they were fast. Faster than Charles getting over you and everything you built. Faster than you ruining the friendship with franco. Faster than you waiting for someone to save you. Your life sucked. You really didn’t want to think about it like that. But you did. Most times you just couldn't see positive things in it. You felt like a failure. A loser. You didn’t have a lover nor a family. A loser that’s what you were. A complete failure. You had almost no family as well. No father, no mother. Just a brother and a sister who lived on the other side of the world and barely talked to you. Your only family was agostina, your best friend. And she was everything you were not. She has the perfect lover with whom she built a beautiful family of five. Her kids were lovely. She was gorgeous and the greatest person you knew. She was exactly everything you were not. But you didn't hate her. Of course you didn't. You would never think of her like that. It made you as sad as happy for her. Sad for you. Happy for her. 

Why can’t you live something like that? 

“Hey, you okay?” you jumped a little scared because of the sudden interruption to your thoughts and sadness. You turned to your side to find that guy. I think it was Lando's name or something like that Nikola said a few hours ago. When he brought you back to reality you realized you were crying hard. Your face bathed in tears. Cold and puffy. His face was concerned. His eyes are shiny, so blue and green. You found his face so pretty to look at. Alcohol was still in your veins, otherwise you wouldn’t be here crying so dramatically. You would try to hide it. Always. 

⋆˚࿔ let it happen 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Your eyes were on his eyes. Yours were red and puffy. His red is tired and shiny. You stayed in silence for a moment. You answered his question when he saw your face. Something in him cracked for some reason. Oh, he did know you very well. He saw you on that balcony and now that he has you right in front of him, he couldn’t believe you being more beautiful than on that day, but you actually are. He promised Charles he wouldn’t even try but he talked to Carlos about it. Carlos wanted Charles to move on but he was making a move on you and was crossing the line. 

He looked down to his water bottle on his right hand. “Do you want some? Maybe you feel better” he said with a deep voice. He was nervous as hell. Alcohol in his veins as like in yours. He saw your smile. Your face was so pretty. You looked so cute with the boca juniors shirton. He had one as well. He didn’t think they were his colors, blue and yellow, not his thing. But you looked so pretty in them. All of the girls at the party were dressed looking hot as hell. But you and your friends looked cute. Relaxed outfits for the win. And that made you look all so attractive or at least for him. He recognized you a few hours ago. He was kinda shocked to see you there because he has never seen you near franco like ever. You didn’t go to the races nor comment on Franco's posts. Or anything at all. Then here you are. He saw kissing him. He saw you two going up the stairs. Alcohol didn’t let him analizy things properly even if he tried his best in doing so. 

Your fingers that grabbed the bottle from his hand, brushed his sending electricity throughout his arm. He smiled gently at you watching you drink from it. 

“Thank you, and sorry you had to see me cry” you told him, giving his bottle back and he smiled so pretty, shaking his head. You found him so attractive. You were just trying not to be so obvious. Also, you were worried to look like a slut if he saw you kissing Franco before. But why did you care so much? Why were you thinking all of these things about him? 

“Oh no, don’t be sorry. You still look cute tho” he said giggling a bit making you laugh a bit as well. You shook your head not agreeing with him. 

“Thank you again, but no need to lie about that tho” you told him a little funny. 

“I promise I'm not lying. You're pretty even crying” he confessed, making you blush. “You okay? Need to talk or something?” he asked to checkon you even if you were strangers. “Im lando by the way” he introduced himself so this wasn’t that weird. 

“I’m y/n. Nice to meet you. I think I'm better now, I just made a lot of stupid decisions throughout my life that now alcohol just reminds me how much of a loser I am” you were honest. More honest than you would be with anyone. You just blamed the alcohol. 

“Hey, I don't think you’re a loser y/n. I mean, I know we don’t know each other at all. But for me, you don’t look like a loser at all” he expressed. You looked out to the garden in front of you a bit ashamed. 

“Appearances can lie, you know? I’m a loser, I promise you. I’m still stuuckin a fucking restaurante knowing all too well i should’ve move on years ago. But here I am. Fucking up friendships and any opportunity i have to get better and be happy. I just hate myself so much. I won’t ever be happy” you gave up. You no longer cared about what people would think. You didn’t care if he thought you were crazy for telling him so much private stuff. You barely know his name. But there you were comfortable enough to confess your depression to him. He analyzed you. Every detail of your face. Each word you used to describe yourself. 

“I don’t think that makes you a loser still. I think you’re brave enough to tell a stranger how you feel and in my opinion, that takes strength and confidence. And i think you will be happy, you just need to let yourself be” his words hung on the air between you two. Why was a stranger talking to her? Why was he saying things she needed to here? Why his words were important? You were sure he  knew how much of a mess you were. It shows. You were sure. But still he was here. Right when you want someone here waiting for you ready to save you.  Is this who will save you? Are you out of your mind for thinking like this about him? 

Delusion was thinking he will be just like charles wright? You had no idea who this guy was but still you compared him to charles. Because you didn’t want to date Charles again or anyone like him. Or did you? You didn’t know how you felt about all of this. About charles. About yourself. About this guy you don't even know and you want him already to save you just because he called you brave and strong and pretty. Was that really enough for you? Was that the standard you had for yourself? He could be a serial killer right? But you could save him. He could love you. And you would forget about charles. About his touch. About his voice and laugh. About his jokes and moans. About his perfume. About his family and friends. About his cars. About everything related to him. 

But was it fair to love someone to stop loving someone else? 

Did you still love Charles? 

You looked at him again. Your eyes connected. He smiled shyly. You did as well. Maybe you could let this guy ruin you just like Charles did, just because of his face, and his voice and what he said to you without even knowing you. You should get your shit together. You still reeling that fucking monaguesque guy. But at this point you didn’t care anymore. Or at least that’s what you thought. He got closer and kissed your cheek, that took you by surprise but you liked it. Probably way too much.

“I know without knowing you that you’re amazing. You just need to believe it. I’m sure you’ll find someone who sees you” he added and your smile became wider. 

“Thank you, lando.wow. Any stranger said so many nice things about me” you half joked shyly and his cheeks went red. His giggles were the cutest sound you have heard lately. Where was this guy? 

Then you remembered Franco and that this guy probably is his friend. And your back at your self hate again.

Why did everything have to be so difficult?

Why do you have to make so many mistakes at once? 

“y/n, we need your help” Dottie's voice interrupted you two. Her voice seemed worried. “Betty is way too drunk, it’s better if we go home now” she explained, a little suspicious of your both body languages. You nodded. 

“Alright, let’s go. Nice to meet you Lando, hope to talk to you another time though so it’s not that depressing. I promise im fun” you said a bit funny but hurried. Your friend first, always. You kissed his cheek quickly. He laughed about your comment. 

“Oh yea, she is,” Dottie added, supporting you in a smile.

“Hope to see you again sometime, Y/n. good luck with your friend” he said to both of you and after smiling at him you went into the party again.

“D, I think I'm in love,” you said excitedly.

“What?”

⋆˚࿔ it’s time to go 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ the fucking tuesday 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Arriving in monaco again at 11 am has never felt so good in your entire life. A trip that started like a dream to remember, turned into a nightmare you couldn’t forget but all you wanted to was to forget about it. Just pretend it never existed and erase everything you did wrong that Saturday night.

You missed your house (your safe place),and you needed its comfort more than you would like to admit. Your brain was a mess. You couldn’t stop thinking about charles driving you to your friend’s house then the memory just fading away and inturning into him saying non stop i met someone. You felt you were going insane when you remembered Franco's skin on yours and how good and warm it felt. How you kissed his abs. And then how you got so scared. His face was printed in ink in your subconscious. You could only see sadness, shame, and a bit of hatred. You were sure at that moment he hated you. Like you humiliate him a bit. You felt so bad about it you couldn’t even face him. You really wanted to say sorry but you just didn’t want to see him straight in the eyes. Shame was tattooed all over your body. How could you?

Then your mind was reminded of Lando's existence and you just wanted to punch yourself in the face. What the hell happened with you at that party? Was the fernet that Franco prepared? You wanted to blame anything except yourself. You didn’t understand yourself either. Like your feelings and thoughts couldn’t agree on anything. Like you had split personality issues.

Yes, you liked lando way too much probably in those few minutes at the gallery. But then there was Franco that you now were confused about how you felt about him. Because you really liked to kiss him. To touch him. To feel him close to you in that way.

And then there was still charles.

You were really tired of thinking already you just had to put taylor swift on your headphones.you took the bus that left you one block away from your house. You don't want to call anyone to pick you up. You texted A and she told you that. You didn’t understand why she did it. But it overwhelmed you for sure. You just wanted to retreat from life like forever.

When you finally got home you went straight into bed. When you touched your pillow you started crying. And that’s how you fell asleep scared to have another nightmare.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Charles watched Carlos leaving his phone on the counter with a weird face “everything alright mate?” he asked. Carlos nodded and smiled.

“Yeah, did you send the invitation to everyone you know?” he asked, grabbing the box with vodka bottles and taking them to the fridge.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be a crazy wild night” Charles said excitedly trying to not let his anxiety control his mood right now. He wanted to have fun and purposely forget about everything with alcohol. A lot of it. As much as possible.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The music was so loud that Charles could barely listen to what the blonde girl in front of him was talking about but he didn’t care that much. He was already bored by the third girl Carlos introduced him to. He knows Carlos just has good intentions but he was already convinced no one will captivate him the way you did. Not even if they tried to imitate you. Since he saw you again he couldn’t forget your scent. The way you smiled to your nephews. How you treated them and how he was confused for a moment if they were your children. He always knew you wanted to be a mother and for what he saw he was sure you would be the best one out there. He wanted to forget about you he really did. But he was also sure life hated him. He wanted to rebuild his life and leave behind the damage he caused, but then there was you again in that fucking restaurant. And in that moment he knew all too well it would drive him insane. And he felt like it. He believed it.

The girl notices he wasn’t paying attention to her. Charles was playing with his glass of whiskey. Her face looked annoyed and disappointed. Charles didn’t care. She told him she needed to go to the bathroom and disappeared for the rest of the night. He drank his whole glass in one take. He just wanted to drown in alcohol right there and vaish from life. From everyone who knew him.

He saw Carlos dancing la macarena with his group of spanish friends that came for the holidays. He was enjoying himself around. Rebecca, his girlfriend, was there as well, matching hia freak. And for a moment he felt something he never felt before and he didn't like it at all. He felt envious. He wanted to have his life. Be him. Have the girl of his dreams dancing around with him. His friends were here but not with him. And he didn’t even like to dance. And don't have anyone to have sex with. Then he felt miserable. Angry with life itself.he was disappointed. He felt he let down everyone in his life. And the proof was that damn book she wrote. He was a coward. And everyone knew about it; they just didn't know it was him all along. And when the truth comes out then his life will be ended.

He swallowed hard and stood up to grab more whiskey. This time he was drinking from the bottle. He pushed himself aside from the party and sat near the pool even if he was freezing. He didn’t care anymore if he got sick or died. He was extreme. He looked at your balcony and wanted to cry. He wanted to cry like a child. Throw punches and scream. He felt there was no way to fix his life. He regretted breaking you so much. He always knew this was everything to you. You were so caring and always there for him and his whole family. He also knew he broke his mum. She loves you deeply. You were like her daughter, the one she never had. The one he and dad would have loved to have if they could choose the sex of their children. Remembering his dad broke him. He started crying. If he was here he knew he would be disappointed in him. Not because of his career (he made history) but because he isn’t with a good woman. He doesn't have kids either. And he now believed he didn't even have a future.

He looked again at your balcony. The lights were off. He didn’t know if you were there or not. If you had a lover. Or even if you have him blocked on social media. And that’s when curiosity won over him. What if he tried to search for your name on instagram? He was sure someone he knew, knew you as well. Monaco is too little to not have those coincidences on the daily.

He searched the first letters of your name and then saw that his ex, alexandra followed you. He felt weird about it and his face showed confusion with his eyebrows. He clicked on your profile and started stalking you. You still paint and have a piano. You used to play piano together. Actually, you taught him. You were the best professor he had ever had. He smiled looking at pictures of random dogs you found on the streets and with your nephews. You built a new family away from your actual family. That made him happy for a second. He knew after both of your parents died, you didn’t get along so well with your siblings. But he didn’t know if it was still like that. He saw how successful you were. How your book was a bestseller and how it would be a movie produced by universal. He was surprised. He would have never expected this outcome. Back in the day you were an art teacher for children and had a studio where you gave those lessons. Children loved you so much. He remembered their bright smiles when the parents came around to pick them up. He admired you so much for it. He even fantasizes that one day that face so bright and happy will be the one your children will have everytime they look at their mother. He wanted to be a father with you. But then alex came around and fucked it all up. Or well he actually did. And he still couldn’t understand why he did it.

Alex Was beautiful, he couldn’t deny that. She also loved him dearly. She was in love with him. And he thought he was with her. But then everything spiraled down and collapsed. He met her at that partymax verstappen threw to celebrate he was an official f1 driver for red bull. He invited everyone he ever met along his life. You couldn’t go because you had to take an exam the following morning. And that’s when it happened. She was dancing with her group of friends. She also had a boyfriend. And we talked and sparks were there. And then Charles got all confused. And they kissed. And he had already cheated by the time he realized that it was wrong. And then he couldn't stop. And his life went to shit.

He didn’t realize he was sobbing until he felt his teardrops stain his creme pants. He was using a fancy outfit. He looked really good. But as everything he touched, he also ruined that too in that moment. And because he was so busy feeling miserable, he didn’t realize the police were already at carlos’ door wanting to shut down the party. I mean, it was a tuesday night of a working week after all.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

When Charles got closer to Carlos, he was already shouting at the police officers like a crazy man. He was drunk for sure and the policeman knew about it too. No perfume will ever smell like that. Not in Monaco of course.

“Then tell me, who will call? I need to know who to call. I never do parties and then once I do I can't and it’s not fair. I need to know who called you, it's my right as a citizen "Carlos was verbose and angry.

“Carlos it’s okay, how much should we pay you to let us have a party?” Charles intervenes trying to look not drunk at all but failing in each word. Police men looked at each other, annoyed by these two men.

“That would be a crime, sir” the police officer with a beard that looked disgusting in charles’ opinion, answered him. He kind of felt offended.

“Then who it was!!” Carlos was losing it and Charles was scared they would take him to jail right there.

“Your neighbor” the other one talked now pointing his fingers to his right. His right.

Your house was at his right. You called the cops. At that moment he felt he was about to faint. He was sure he was white. The policemen looked at him weird. Carlos then started walking. If you were in a cartoon show he would have smoke coming out his head right now. He walked fast towards your hose. Charles panicked and followed him desperate. Carlos started banging your door so he could tell you things.

“Carlos, nono. Let’s just go home, c’mon "Charles tried to convince Carlos but he was determined and ignored him. He won’t let you ruin his party. His celebration. His opportunity to present a woman for his friend to be happy. The one he taught you ruined. Becausehe couldn’t be over you. And he saw all of this as if you were now not letting him be able to in a very twisted way.

Charles was scared and worried when he saw your light turning on by the minute. His eyes wanting to leave his face when he saw you in your marvel pajamas again. Your hair was a mess and your face had the darkest circles under your eyes. Your face puffy as if you were crying or you did before you went to sleep and then they woke you up. No he felt as guilty as when he realized he left the love of his life stuck in that fucking restaurant you both loved so much.

“What the fuck is wrong with you bitch? Huh? Stop torturing my friend!” carlos said aggressively the moment he saw you when you opened the door.

⋆˚࿔ TO BE CONTINUED 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

chapter six: coming soon.

tag list: @a-beaverhausen , @annaluna12 , @thehoplessromanticclub , @emryb , @hadids-world , @kaztheemyth , @freyathehuntress , @diorbrxtz , @theseerbetweenus , @sie17136 , @leila-030304 , @charlesgirl16 , @ricciardosheart , @weekendlusting

author’s note: hope you all have a merry christmas ❤️ and that you like this chapter as much as I do !

thank you everyone for reading and sharing what I write. I really really appreciate it!

if you wanna be part of the tag list just leave a comment!

see you on the next chapter :)

Don’t forget to like, reblog or comment! And follow me so we can be friends! (And drink mate together) <3

[eph3merall]

hateful words and harsh jabs replay in your head, tears burning behind your eyelids as you stare at chris. his back is to you, shuffling things around on a cluttered desk of crinkled bills, jewelry, papers, and drug products. you don't really understand what went wrong, why he'd suddenly want to break the little thing you two have off. chris knows you don't really have anyone else right now, falling off with all of your friends after they found out your drug addiction was slowly creeping in again.

it was tough on you specifically, chris probably couldn't give a fuck. it's not like his daily life changed much, as grunted quietly when he was unable to retrieve the lighter he always keeps on his desk. furrowing in his jeans pockets, his eyes stray towards you standing there, dumbfounded, like some stone statue. he can't help but think you're pathetic, and he was unsure why he even startes this whole thing with you in the first place.

the click of the lighter chris obtains in his pocket is something he finds comfort in, the sound being one he's heard multiple times before that he could continue click, click, clicking and it wouldn't ever annoy him. he's tried telling himself that you don't mean to be annoying, that you don't mean to be overbearing and that shit's happened to you as much as himself.

but maybe his brain was all fucked up as he takes a drag of the lit blunt in his hand, stalking towards the window of his room to place two hands on a part of it and lift up—a gust of cold air hitting him directly and making the smell of weed just that little lighter. you've finally picked the pieces of your heart up from the floor, pressing at your eyes tightly to ward off the tears. chris never really did enjoy when you cried.

he wants you to leave. get out of his room, out of the frat house where the other guys will most definitely eye you weirdly as you walk out. turning to his desk, he makes himself busy. he doesn't care, why would he? his friends have been buzzing at him for the longest time for hooking up with someone like you, making stupid jokes and jabs about marriage and stupid shit like that. so he finally did something about it.

—

“you're so annoying, y'know? fuckin', talkin' my ear off one second n'then whining when i dont respond. not like you're givin' me the chance to, anyways.”

“and dont get me started on when 'i hurt your feelings'. jeesus, actin' like you crying like some baby wont piss me off. dont be fuckin' stupid, kid, use that brain of yours.”

“gullible as shit too, y'know? what, you didnt think i actually liked you. oh, thats funny, baby. make more of those jokes n'maybe ill laugh next time. god, you didnt ever think i was just usin' you? takin' advantage of havin' some pretty pussy practically under my arm and extra money for my products. fuck, you're stupid.”

“oh, alright, cry jus' like y'did last time, see if i give a shit this time.”

you try to forget everything chris said to you and more, sitting in your room in some old zip up chris left over at your place. it reeks of weed and something thats just so him, it makes you feel sick. your cheeks itch and lips go dry the longer you sob, hating the silence whenever you go slightly quiet. its like a taunt, youre alone now, for good. you wont ever get those friends back unless you fix yourself the fuck up.

you're a mess, blubbering sobs filling the silence and wracking your body. shuddering breaths in and out, constantly repeating to yourself to breathe and to focus on anything you can currently feel or hear. your vision is far too blurry from tears to see anything clearly, nose also clogged and preventing a good sense of smell. the fur of your blanket, running steps outside your room at one point accimpanied by laughter and voices. the cold metal of the zipper and interlocking teeth of chris' zip up sends a shock to your skin in some way, the smell of weed clinging to the fabric and breaking through the barrier your nose had. you wish you didn't smell it, only ending in thoughts of chris and making you cry some more.

the next few weeks are uneventful. nothing particular happens to you or chris, besides one of your friends' birthdays—kira. you took it upon yourself to text her a little message even after she dropped you, harshly telling you to 'get yourself together' if you wanted to be friends again. the text sent, it got read, and stayed that way. you don't exactly blame her, but your heart only dropped more in despair. because a little, innocent part of you truly thought she'd say thank you, or hope you're doing well, or at least text back.

a lot of the hours of the past few weeks consisted of naps and school work, finally deciding to try and raise some of your current failing grades since there wasn't anything better to do. it was hard to focus on anything with music playing, but it was even harder to write or register a single word when it was silent.

somehow, you end up at the frat house again. shivers overtake your body as you step inside, loud music and shoving bodies hitting you like tons of bricks. your eyes scope the familiar area, searching for a certain someone with brown tufts of hair peeking out from under a cap. when you dont see him, you start working through the throng of people to tread upstairs.

your feet gradually step lighter each step up, the floor eventually thinning out as you turn to the room you've knocked on so many times before. you probably look a mess, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you impatiently wait. a frat brother you recognize is romping up the stairs to shove into the bathroom, giving you a surprised, weirded look when he spots you.

soon, the door in front of you cracks open. chris blinks at you mumble a little 'hi' under your breath. when you get no reply, panic creeps in and you take a few steps forward and throw your arms around his shoulders, tugging yourself towards him. chris stumbles and grunts, hands bracing your shoulders and already trying to shove your body away from his own. the familiar smell of your shampoo isn't helping at all, hating how persistent you are today.

"alright, kid, y'can let go now," after chris is shuffling inside his room and shutting the door behind you. your arms loosen and slip from his body, casting a glance to the floor. you knew you'd be back, deep down, you know you don't have it in you to stay away. even as a child, you'd always ask that popular kid to be friends even after she'd humiliated you too many times to count on both hands.

"i know its my fault. sorry. for bein' annoying. tried workin' on it, and i think im better. and, and i stopped smoking, kinda. its no longer everyday, and i got classwork done, for once. are you proud of me? i worked on controlling my emotions too, so, so i don't think ill cry that easy anymore—" that was a lie. you'd started panicking the second you stepped foot inside chris' room, your mouth speaking on its own and vomiting out words that sound weird to your ears .your voice picks up speed when chris doesn't respond, only stopping when you realize he isn't listening.

and chris says nothing. his mind reeling and heart thumping in his chest, because you blame yourself. why? he doesn't know, apparently he just doesn't know anything when it comes to you. guilt blooms inside him, the feeling a little foreign as he resists the urge to wrap you up in his arms and just to tell you to pipe down. to stop being so stupid. to not blame yourself, when he's so obviously the one in the wrong. when he's so obviously the stupid one, stamping down all those feelings of guilt.

—

@conspiracy-ash @sturniolosfavkayleigh @lvrsturniolo @st7rnioioss @meatballlover10 @ashlishes @ferdzom @55sturn @chriseatingmeoutin4k @unknvhx @mattslolita @chaossturns @slut4brunettes @starclinexo @slvtf0rchr1s

©eph3merall 2024

[toournextadventure]

a novel life pt.2

Summary: You're trying to make nice with Sam's little sister, for everyone's sake. Maybe it leads to an interrogation. Maybe it leads to more. And maybe you end up sucked into the unusual events that follow Legacies

Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: swearing, distrust, mentions of past trauma, mentions of blood, mentions of Scream typical violence Pairing: Samantha Carpenter x GN!Reader A/N: Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, Happy Yule, and whatever holidays y'all all celebrate 🫶 (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (pt.5)

“Are you sure this is okay?” You asked as you nearly tripped over your feet.

Sam gave you a look that was both sweet and condescending. “Yes, because I said so.”

“That doesn’t seem like solid reasoning,” you mumbled, but nonetheless continued following her up the steps to her apartment.

It was nearing Halloween, with the cooling air finally allowing for the use of jackets. Which you had few of, since Sam had decided to keep them for herself. Not that there was anyone to blame but yourself; it was what you deserved for offering her jackets every time she forgot one. She had simply decided it was rather nice to have an unlimited selection of jackets, both too-large and just right.

In all her wisdom, Sam had suggested the two of you, and Tara and her partner have a movie night. Tara got to choose the movie, and no one could object. All in all it should have been a win for the younger Carpenter; she could make you suffer if she truly wanted, and you couldn’t say a word about it. Which was going to cause the night to be very, very long.

Oh, the things you would do for her.

“Is she going to pick something scary?” You asked before you both approached the door. “Because I don’t like scary.”

“I have no doubt it will be scary,” Sam said with a barely-concealed smile. “I’ll hold your hand to keep you safe.”

“You’re my hero,” you said as you leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to her lips. She tasted strongly of the cigarette she had smoked on the way from your apartment to hers.

You tried to pull away, but she quickly followed, keeping her lips pressed against yours. Every sense was enveloped by her. Her smell, her taste, the feel of her body pressed against yours so tightly it was as if you would float away without her. There was nothing you could have ever wanted more than your Sam.

“We shouldn’t give Tara something to be upset about,” you mumbled against Sam’s lips when she finally pulled back just the slightest distance.

“Tara’s always upset,” she answered before sighing, “but you’re right.”

“Baby steps,” you said with a smile.

“For the big baby.”

“Samantha.”

“I’m kidding,” she tried to argue as she grabbed your hand and started finally moving into the apartment.

You both knew she wasn’t kidding.

“My dude!”

You had barely walked through the door when Tara’s partner called out to you, a genuine, toothy grin visible on their face. They had asked you to call them J, which you had happily agreed to. Sam teased that it was short for Joker - you assumed because of the scars - but the look on Tara’s face told you not to ever bring it up. Ever.

It was a rule you could oblige by.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again,” you said as you hung your coat on the back of one of the chairs at the dining table. It had only taken you dropping your coat once before you realised the Carpenters saw no need for a coat rack.

How utterly uncivilised.

“They think it’s a pleasure to see me,” J said to Tara, who rolled her eyes almost instantly. 

You would never say it aloud, but you noticed the small smile she sent their way. So, she wasn’t as heartless as she wanted you to believe. Exactly like her older sister. It would be simple enough to chalk it down to their past experiences with the world; it had taught them nothing but hardness. But maybe they both just needed a safe space to let those walls come down.

“What did you choose?” Sam asked. She very quickly made her way to the couch opposite Tara and J.

“Depends,” they said.

“On?” Sam asked.

J turned to look at you and held something up to their mouth. “What’s your favourite scary movie?” The voice came out almost robotic, sounding similar to… something you possibly recognised? Vaguely?

“That’s not funny,” Sam said quickly.

“Lighten up, Sam,” Tara said even though she pushed J’s hand - and the voice changer - into their lap. “We’re watching Hellraiser.”

“Thought you didn’t like that one,” Sam said. She reached over and grabbed your hand the moment you sat down beside her on the couch.

Tara’s eyes darted to where your hands were joined and lingered. “I don’t.” She looked back up at you with a hard gaze. “I picked it out just for you.”

“Oh,” you said, perking up instantly. “Thank you.”

You turned to look at Sam with a stupid smile on your face, missing the look J sent Tara. Well, this was turning into a lovely evening! Tara had picked out a movie just for you! Surely that was progress to the finest degree, was it not? If all it took was watching a movie with them every month, you were more than happy to do so. This was turning out to be a rather lovely evening.

At least you thought so until the movie started and you realised just exactly why Tara had picked the movie out just for you.

It was… well, it was a movie. Filled with hooks and needles and… blood. Oh gosh, so much blood. There was a singular blessing amongst it all; you hadn’t eaten before coming over. Thankfully the popcorn sat untouched between you and Sam as your stomach twisted and turned and tried its best to embarrass you.

Sam squeezed your hand as you did your best to keep your cool. Not that it was such an easy thing with all the… you couldn’t even think the word without feeling queasy. Surely there was no way they all enjoyed this kind of thing, right? It was grotesque! The creatures on the screen, the inhumanity of it all, how was it an enjoyable movie?

The room started to shrink around you. Oh, that wasn’t good, you didn’t want to feel claustrophobic, you were trying to be tough. You couldn’t let anyone know that you had an, um, aversion to blood. What would they say? They were all horror fans, how could you ever possibly mention that you just… didn’t enjoy it? Quite frankly, it made you sick to your stomach, like all those science experiments you had to do back in grade school.

The credits couldn’t have rolled a moment too soon. If anyone were to ask you what you thought, you wouldn’t have been able to answer. The only thing you were aware of was your heart beating loudly in your ear and the saliva that continued to fill your mouth. Maybe it would actually be better if you didn’t try to answer anyone for a few more moments.

“So, Professor,” Tara asked all too soon. “What did you think?”

“I-”

-You cut yourself short. There was a part, a rather significant part of your mind that said you should lie. Tell Tara it was a wonderful movie, and you would love to see more if it existed. But lying had never gotten you anywhere in the past, had it? It certainly wasn’t going to assist you in winning over Tara, not when she was already sceptical of you. How was a lie going to assist you?

It wasn’t. 

“It’s not my cup of tea,” you finally said before swallowing the remaining saliva in your mouth. “I don’t really enjoy scary movies.” You nodded to yourself. “Or blood.”

“Oh my god,” Tara huffed, “why can’t you just lose your shit about something?”

“Tara,” Sam warned.

“No, this is ridiculous,” she continued as she stood up from the couch, ignoring J reaching for her hand. “Why can’t you lose your shit?” She pointed at you. “Nobody is this level-headed about everything.”

“That’s enough,” Sam said as she followed suit, standing up from the couch. Similarly, you reached out for her hand but she moved just far enough away.

“Get out,” Tara said before promptly looking Sam dead in the eyes.

“Excuse me?” Sam asked.

“Get out,” she repeated.

“Hey, T-”

“-You too,” Tara interrupted J, who froze with a comically shocked expression on their face. “Both of you get out so I can talk to them-” she pointed at you “-alone.”

“Absolutely not-”

“-Sounds reasonable,” you interrupted Sam. She looked at you like you had grown a second head. “I would love to talk.”

“Come on, Baby Ghost,” J said as they stood up. You were starting to feel left out by being the only one still sitting. “I’ll buy you a new pack of cigs.”

Sam looked like she wanted to argue, but both you and Tara gave her a look. Differing looks, of course, but still. While Tara seemed to get her a death stare that was almost permanently etched onto her face, you tried to go the more convincing route. If Tara wanted to talk, who were you to tell her no? Talking was key, that’s what your family had always done and it had never ended poorly.

“Fine,” Sam finally said. She seemed resigned. “But you have 15 minutes and that’s it.”

“Deal,” Tara said. “Now get out.”

You stayed as still as a statue when Sam leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. A little more forceful than usual, but you wouldn’t complain. Any kiss from her was perfect. A sigh came from behind her, and you both knew who it was from, but she took her time before pulling away and standing back up.

“Don’t let her bully you,” she said.

“Sam,” Tara said forcefully. “Get out.”

“Fine,” Sam said, throwing her hands up. “But I mean it,” she said as she and J walked to the door together. “15 minutes.”

You and Tara both watched your partners leave the apartment, practically abandoning you to the force of nature that was the youngest Carpenter sister. It shamed you to admit you were a little afraid of her. You knew there was something going on deep down that she either wouldn’t or couldn’t accept, and you wouldn’t dare fault her for it. But she let her internal frustrations out in a very external way.

“What’s wrong with you?” Tara asked the moment the door shut behind the two. You stayed silent. “You don’t yell, you don’t scream, you don’t even freak out when I put on a movie I knew you would hate.”

You waited a moment to make sure she was finished. “I was raised by two very… pacifistic parents,” you said, gesturing for her to sit on the couch opposite you. “We talked through our issues, we didn’t yell about them.”

Tara opened her mouth as if she was about to argue, or complain, or something. Slowly, her mouth closed and she pursed her lips. She kept looking at you, but slowly took a seat opposite you. There was something going on behind her eyes, you could see it, but you knew better than to question her just yet. Just like your mom had taught you; let them lead the conversation.

“I don’t trust you,” she said slowly. Her eyes stayed locked with yours. “You’re too understanding and too kind.” You stayed silent. “Sam only ever falls for freaks.”

“Didn’t she date an FBI agent?” You asked. You could vaguely remember what Sam had said about her, but she had seemed nice enough.

“Kirby is cool, I’ve always liked her,” Tara said with a dismissive shake of her head. “But she was attacked by Ghostface twice,” she said, “so she’s a freak by proxy.” She looked back at you. “So what’s your deal?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know,” you said, “ask your questions and maybe you can find out.”

It had initially been your idea, but before Tara could even open her mouth you started to second guess yourself. Perhaps allowing her to ask whatever questions she wanted without any repercussions was… not the smartest idea on your part. You had nothing to hide, but what if she really started to ask unusual questions? What if your answers weren’t what she wanted to hear?

But when you thought of Sam, and being with her, you felt that, without question, it was worth the gamble.

“Have you ever used a knife?” Tara asked quickly. It seemed she wasn’t going to wait.

“Not outside of cooking,” you answered just as quickly.

“How about a gun?” So, it would be a rapid fire interrogation. Game on.

“Never.”

“Ever hurt anybody before?” A tilt of her head.

“Not on purpose.”

“What about animals?”

“No.”

“Not even in science class?”

“I-” you attempted to clear your throat to buy a bit of time “-I fell ill that day.”

Tara paused and narrowed her eyes. “Because of blood.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” you said anyway. “It makes me sick to my stomach.”

“You’re pretty pathetic,” Tara said as she leaned back on the couch. For the first time in… well, ever, you thought you almost saw her smile at you. “That’s exactly Sam’s type.”

“I thought you said it was freaks,” you pointed out.

“Pathetic freaks,” she corrected quickly. That quirk near the corner of her mouth rapidly disappeared. “Why did you choose Sam?”

You paused. It was uncertain what exactly Sam had told Tara about you both meeting. Surely she wouldn’t have overdramatised it, but had she told her the truth? The truth was… well, it was pathetic as well, but you weren’t entirely convinced Tara would approve. Not that it was entirely her place, but the two were the only family each other had. They both had a right to be cautious of anyone new coming into their lives.

But perhaps you could answer the question a little differently.

“She’s kind,” you said with a subconscious nod of your head. “And bold, and intelligent - god she’s intelligent - and brave.” You averted Tara’s eyes. “And she’s really pretty too.”

Tara nodded once. “What are your intentions with her?”

Another question that you believed was potentially a trick. You couldn’t very well say you loved Sam just yet; you hadn’t even told Sam that little piece of information. But there were other intentions with her even if you didn’t necessarily use the word “love.” There were other things that were just as important.

“I don’t want to sound overly self-important,” you started off, looking back up to meet Tara’s eyes. “But I would very much like to be the one by Sam’s side as she continues on this path she’s created for herself.”

Tara looked at you; really looked at you. She was so very difficult for you to read. Unlike Sam, Tara did a better job at hiding her emotions. While Sam would give it away with her facial expressions, Tara did not. No, her feelings came out differently, whether in the slight twitch of her fingers or the impatient tapping of her foot on the rug. You hadn’t been around her long enough to know what exactly those feelings were, you simply acknowledged they were feelings.

“I’ll give you a chance,” Tara finally said, her voice far softer than you had ever heard. At least when it was directed at you. “But if you do anything to hurt her, or upset her, or lie to her, I won’t hesitate to kill you.” You gulped. “I’m not afraid to kill again.”

“I forgot you’ve both killed someone before,” you mumbled to yourself before speaking up louder. “Those are acceptable terms.”

“Good,” she said with a single nod of her head. “But don’t think this means I’ll go easy on you.”

You could both hear the other two finally approaching the door, bickering in a way that mimicked biological siblings.

“I would expect nothing less,” you told Tara as the door opened and the moment ended.

—---

The rest of the semester went by without incident. Tara had stayed true to her word and gave you a fair chance to prove that you could be trusted with her sister’s heart, and it wasn’t something you had taken lightly. You knew how important the both of them were to each other, and you had done your best to prove that not only did you care for Sam, but you cared for Tara too.

She had finally eased up during classes, allowing you to properly teach without an ounce of disdain for you personally. In fact, she had even dared to come to office hours on more than one occasion to discuss certain pieces you had offered as optional readings. The Carpenters were immensely intelligent, no matter what the subject matter was.

You and Sam had fallen into a rather comfortable routine, always going for a date night on Thursdays to whatever new place your colleagues had recommended, and movies with Tara and J on Saturdays. You would spend the night at her place Thursday through Monday morning, and she would stay at yours Monday through Thursday morning. It was comfortable, and you were more than content.

But with school finally over for the semester, you could focus on the real gem; Christmas.

Both Carpenters - and J, for that matter - had been nonchalant with their decorations. A minimal Charlie Brown tree that had, at most, four ornaments on it. It was awfully quaint, and if they hadn’t been so blase about it you would have been content to leave it standing. Nevertheless, they had made it clear they didn’t care if there were any decorations, and you had taken that as a cry for help.

Your own apartment had, of course, been decorated since the day after Thanksgiving. It was a wonderful gift from your mother, learning how to decorate for the holidays, and you weren’t keen on squandering the skills and letting them fall off the wagon, so to speak. Sam had made a few comments, though you hadn’t taken her for a non-believer.

“It’s okay, really,” Sam tried to say when you and J finished bringing in what had to have been the seventh box of decorations from your apartment.

“Oh no, I insist,” you said with a smile. “Besides, my mother would be downright dismayed if she knew the decorations were sitting in my apartment unused.”

“Great,” Tara mumbled as she walked by without even offering to help, “we get to live at the North Pole.”

“Isn’t it exciting?” You said with a smile. “These are more neutral, so you shouldn’t feel too out of place, but they still embody the holiday spirit.”

“Well I think it’ll be fun,” J said with their own smile. “Do I get to hang the ornaments?”

“Why-”

“-the ornaments won’t be the only thing hanging this Christmas,” Tara said, tossing a mini marshmallow into the air and catching it in her mouth. “Especially with those blinding lights.”

You looked down at the ones in your hand and frowned. “I thought they were rather tame.”

“And they’re lovely,” Sam tried to cover, even though you could see the fake smile she had on her face. “You’re doing great,” she continued as she left a simple kiss on your cheek.

The decorating ended up being a one person job, you quickly realised when you discovered J could not, for the life of them, listen to instructions. More than once, the lights had been blown and you had to find the faulty one to fix it. Normally you would chalk it down to bad luck, but when it was only the ones that they were installing? You became a little suspicious.

At least they were all eager to help with the snacks and desserts, and that was something you could live with. Surprisingly, Tara was the one who had the most ideas. You knew you weren’t the best cook; you could follow instructions but that didn’t necessarily mean they would turn out nice. But with Tara at the helm? They were almost as good as your mother’s! Though obviously you would never dare to tell her that.

You also rather quickly discovered that they were not gift giving people. Understandable, you supposed, they had much more important things to worry about in life. It was still unacceptable. The moment you had found out, you had called your parents and told them the tragic news.

Gifts for all three of them - plus a gift each for Mindy, Chad, and Anika - had been delivered to your house within the week. Express shipping to be certain they would arrive before Christmas.

Which led to yet another tragedy; they had no stockings.

“It’s really not worth buying,” Sam attempted to persuade you over the phone on one of the rare nights you two weren’t spending together. “Just stay home tonight.”

“It’s no trouble, Sam,” you argued. “I’m heading out for a bit anyway.”

You didn’t admit you were already at the store, trying to decide which one would fit each person best.

“Just stay safe,” she said. You could hear car horns in the background but thought nothing of it. “I mean it.”

“I’ll be safe,” you insisted, “I always am.”

“Call me when you’re back home,” she said.

“Yes ma’am,” you said with a smile that she couldn’t see.

She hung up first, and you continued your search without any second thoughts. In the end, you had decided on a Santa stocking for J, a reindeer for Tara, and a snowman for Sam. They would look lovely hanging underneath the mounted television in their living room. But with the stockings, you needed things to fill them with.

Santa’s work was never finished.

It was dark by the time you finished buying everything you believed you needed. Stockings, fillers, and some snacks to make for a lovely evening. That should surely be enough to give the three of them a very merry Christmas, would it not? Your mother had already sent their Santa presents, and their other presents were underneath the tree, so as far as you were aware of at the moment, everything was taken care of.

You were still going over your mental checklist when you heard a commotion down one of the alleys on the way home. Every cell in your body told you not to bother looking; people got desperate around the holidays and it would do you no good to go poking your head where it didn’t belong. But if someone was getting hurt, then you needed to attempt to help.

Or at least make enough of a scene that someone else would come help.

“Excuse me?” You called out foolishly as you started down the dark alleyway. “Is everyone alright out there?”

You pulled your coat tighter around you as you continued walking. It hadn’t been raining or snowing recently, and yet something started to soak through your shoes and socks. The shocking cold that normally came from liquids in December wasn’t present; it was warm.

There was another noise. It almost sounded like something solid, but it was overshadowed by something metallic. You did your best to see something in the dark, even as your body continued to tell you to move along. But something didn’t feel right; you were feeling queasy again.

Something hissed in front of you, but it wasn’t a snake. No, you knew what those sounded like and this wasn’t even close. This sounded much more human, though that sound would only ever really happen in dire circumstances like if-

-a large white mask faced you. It was the only thing you could see in the dark, thanks to the lights behind you causing just enough radiance to make the mask almost seem luminescent. You weren’t a movie buff, especially not scary movies, but you weren’t stupid. Everyone knew what that mask was.

Ghostface.

All those cells that had been telling you to run? They were silent. Frozen in fear, just like your mind. The killer wasn’t moving toward you, simply facing you, almost as if it was the very reason you were stationary. Which, it was, but not in the typical way that most would be privy to. You felt like a deer in headlights, and if you moved then you died.

You supposed that was how all the movies went.

“Aren’t you going to run?” Ghostface asked, in that same voicebox that J had had during the movie night.

You swallowed the saliva filling your mouth. “No,” you said in a trembling voice.

“Why not?” He continued. “I like when they run.”

“I’m not very fast,” you said. “You’ll catch me before I get to the street.”

He still didn’t move, and your eyes finally adjusted enough to see the silhouette of a body slumped at his feet. Your throat constricted at the sight; you were going to be sick. The very image started to worm its way into your brain; there was a very simple explanation for what was still soaking through your socks. It wasn’t snow.

“You should get home, Professor,” Ghostface said.

You nodded, even though you weren’t sure if he could see you. “Yes I should.”

“Stay on the sidewalk next time,” he said.

“I- I believe that’s sound advice,” you said with more frantic nods of your head. Your palms were starting to get clammy.

Ghostface lifted up a hand - holding a knife - and waved. “Good night, Professor.”

“Good night,” you said with your own shaky wave.

You walked backwards out of the alley, keeping an eye on the figure until it was completely out of sight. Your feet were frozen on the ground once you were under a street light. There were no more sounds coming from the alley, not even the sound of someone leaving. Wherever Ghostface had gone, he hadn’t followed you.

In an incredibly brave moment, you leaned over and vomited directly into a storm grate before going back home. You called Sam the moment you got back into your apartment.

You couldn’t find the courage to inform her of the night’s mystery encounter.

[oimitocat]

BELOVED | OS

lee minho x m!reader

angst + breaking up & getting back together + fluff + crying + drunk minho + idol! au

a/n: loved writing this. i love writing for minho. also— s/n = stage name. n/n = nickname. i/n = idol name

the headline reads this— “stray kids rapper s/n seen talking to i/n a lot more recently. ever since their collaboration with their hit song ‘sing to me’ fans have seen them interact every show or-“

minho stops reading. he doesn’t want to read more. his mind is already working, y/n indeed has been interacting with i/n after their collab. he hasn’t seen anything more than their occasional hello’s or respectful bows, but what are these comments saying?

‘s/n definitely fell in love, like who wouldn’t? i/n is BEAUTIFUL!’

‘s/n once again proving he can pull’

‘the behind the scenes of sing to me was so wholesome!’

‘stop they get so gushy around each other! have you seen how she nervously rubs s/n’s arm when they interact?’

minho’s heart is heavy. genuinely, it seems like you’re taking a liking of i/n.

“y/n and i/n?” chan questions when the younger comes to him about his grievance. he literally didn’t know who else to go to. “minho aren’t you doubting y/n’s love for you?

minho scrunches his nose a bit, “i’m not. i’m just saying everyone is seeing things that i’m not sure about.”

chan drops the beat he’s making and spins around to face minho. he sighs discreetly, “have you talked to y/n about this?”

“yes.” he lies.

chan raises a brow, clearly not believing him. minho doesn’t like that, so he stands up and leaves. chan doesn’t bother with him, if minho doesn’t want to talk he won’t. he simply shakes his head and hopes for the best.

the best turns out to be the worst. two days later images and texts start circulating. it’s hard to decipher whether it’s true or not. to minho, the texts sound exactly like y/n. he hears you talk about your management trying to fix this but you’re too calm about it. it eats away at him. even when you pepper him with “reassuring” kisses, even when you call him to tell him about the latest updates. he doesn’t believe that there really isn’t anything between you and i/n. he finds himself looking at those (edited) pictures and he ends up believing that you two look good together.

better than what he and you would ever be.

after months of being at your place, which had become his as well, he moves his things bit by bit. you don’t notice at first, too drained from all the meetings and gatherings management has made you go through. your too tired to love him correctly. too tired to stay awake during a conversation. he feels abandoned.

when the final statement gets out the public, it says this— “we have come to announce that as much as we appreciate the support fans have given s/n, we ask fans to respect the idol’s wishes. he has no dating contract, but chooses to keep to himself and focus on his music career. s/n is willing to let fans know if he ever does have something to announce. until then, all images or content published to harm the idol’s reputation and career will be taken down and seeing foreseeable action….” minho stops reading.

he’s standing in the kitchen. there’s so many things going through his head. it’s been like that these last couple of weeks. why haven’t you talked to him about it? sure, he doesn’t mention it, but why haven’t you said anything to him?

could it be… true?

“hey, baby,” you chirp happily as you walk through the door.

maybe he’s overreacting. he should apologize and move all his things back.

“where were you at?” he asks as he receives the hug from you.

you always smell so good. he loves being engulfed by your cologne as much as by your big, warm hugs- he shoves you off.

“why do you smell like that?” he stares at you.

“huh? like what?” you question, taken aback by his change in mood. you sniff yourself, unsure of what he’s talking about? “do i smell different?”

“you smell like you have expensive perfume on. not cologne. you only wear cologne.”

you blink, perplexed. “uh, well maybe i/n’s perfume clung onto me? i mean we did hug goodbye before leaving the gathering-“

“gathering? what? why were you two at a gathering?”

“our managers just wanted a clear run down-“

“of what? your love lives? because clearly you two have something going on, right!?”

you look around, unsure of what the hell is happening. “what? no! minho what-“

“so you have been meeting up with her! ugh i’m so stupid! i should have known!” he pulls at his hair, frantic, “your the worst! i really hoped it wasn’t true! a-and you come home fucking smelling like her!?”

“minho-“ you try to reach for him but he steps aside and grabs his things— his phone, his wallet and his keys. yet, he throws his keys at you.

“i’m leaving. you and me are done, y/n. i’m clearly not what you want anyway. she’s pretty, famous, everyone sees it! i was just hoping you didn’t.”

his eyes are glassy. he’s going to cry the second he steps outside your apartment. yet, you can’t do anything. he’s not letting you.

he leaves you alone in your apartment, defeated.

abandoned.

“minho? what’s wrong-“ chan doesn’t finish when minho hugs him and bawls his eyes out.

it’s been years since minho had actually cried like this. he can’t believe what he’s hearing either. y/n? cheating? impossible, just yesterday you were telling me about your anniversary plan.

he stays silent though, soothing minho until the younger finishes crying. he won’t pry. he’ll just hope everything gets better….

“she’s a lot better than me, right hyung?” minho’s soft voice asks.

“hm?”

“is that why? because she’s better?” and he cries again, “i hope so…. he always did deserve better.”

“oh minho….” and he’s back to soothing him.

——

days pass. minho doesn’t answer your calls. he doesn’t even read your texts (he does, he just removed the send read receipts). he doesn’t come out to see you when you come to the dorms and try to talk to him.

at some point, he hears seungmin say “poor y/n.”

poor? why? clearly your living your best life, with i/n. he’s not in the way for your true love. he’s not a bother anymore. he’s not yours anymore.

“ugh,” he sniffles, wiping his nose. why does he keep crying over you?

well, he does know. he loves you. and reading the new articles of you and i/n making a new track for your upcoming album makes him feel even worse. what does she have that he doesn’t? are you happier with her than what you’ve ever been with him?

the spiraling.

he doesn’t want to deal with it anymore. yet, why does he believe your messages? he’s unsure, uncertainty drives him to drink it away.

jisung’s still at the studio. no one is witness to him leaving and taking a cab to your place. he doesn’t know why he’s going. there aren’t tears pouring down his eyes no more. it’s just a constant yearning for you even in his hazy state. he was in the wrong, wasn’t he?

for what? for seeking you out?

for breaking up with you?

for not telling you how he felt regarding everything?

“minho?”

oh. your voice. it’s just as good as he remembers it.

“baby, why are you crying?” you take his hand, “hey, minho? have you been drinking?”

he shakes his head, you place your other hand on his cheek and eye him. he is drunk, because he leans in for kiss. you accept it.

“come on, let’s get you inside.”

“no! what if she sees me-“

“no one but you and the guys are allowed in here.” you say strictly, knowing he’s drunk. “come in,” you bring him inside, careful because he’s stumbling over his own steps.

you tuck him into the couch. you and minho would always keep blankets in the living room in case you two spontaneously had movie or tv nights. so you take a blanket and put it over him after laying him down, he quickly huddles into the couch, curling in on himself. you know exactly what to do in this situation. you make him something warm, something he also did for you when you would come home drunk after a night with friends.

“n/n,” he calls out to you while you’re lost in your own thoughts in the kitchen.

“yes?” you walk over to him, peering over from behind the couch and looking at him.

he doesn’t notice, but he knows you’re listening. “i’m sorry….”

“for?”

“for thinking you cheated. for everything.” he sniffles.

“oh, baby,” you walk around the couch and squat down before him. his eyes are teary, nose stuffy. you kiss his nose, “i forgive you baby, i know you had your reasons, we didn’t talk about it.”

his bottom lip quivers, “can we sleep together?”

“of course baby, when you wake up…”

“there will be soup?”

you nod, “there will be soup…”

[ponderingmoonlight]

Quiet mornings with Shigure Sohma

Pairing: Shigure x reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: While you're surrounded by mess and trouble all day, you can't help but enjoy those mornings with none other than Shigure.

Warnings: the fic no one asked for, I fell for fruits basket so hard that you guys are forced to read my trash now hehe, fluff over fluff

The weather outside is soft today. Not warm, not cold, just enough of something in-between to make the morning feel cozy. You’re sitting cross-legged on the floor like you always do, sunlight pooling across your lap, your hands holding a ceramic mug of tea. The house feels quiet with all the kids gone, without Tohru’s soft voice and the boys fighting over nonsense. But that peace, you know, is an illusion. Or, at the very least, a temporary state.

Because Shigure Soma is never quiet for long.

Right on cue, there’s a shuffle of feet against the floorboards, and then his voice - a melodious hum that could belong to someone much less chaotic.

“My darling,” he calls, the sing-song lilt of his tone already filled with teasing.

“How rude of you to start your morning without me. My feelings are positively shattered!”

You tilt your head just enough to see him standing in the doorway, one hand pressed theatrically to his chest as though wounded. His yukata is draped carelessly over his shoulders, the belt knotted loosely at his waist. His hair is a little messy, and he hasn’t yet shaved the faint stubble on his jaw. But the sight of him - rumpled, relaxed, utterly himself -makes warmth bloom in your chest anyway.

“Shigure,” you say with an exasperated smile, “it’s past ten. I’m not going to wait forever for you to wake up.”

He gasps as though you’ve just insulted his ancestors.

“Ah, how cold-hearted my sweet muse is! If you loved me, surely you’d have brought me breakfast in bed-”

“I made tea,” you interrupt, raising your mug pointedly.

“And there’s toast in the kitchen. If you want anything else, you’re on your own.”

He pouts, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not offended in the slightest. He never is, really. Shigure’s ego might be gigantic, but it’s not fragile. If anything, he seems to flourish on your chit-chat, your little refusals lightening up his mood even more. It’s a dance the two of you have perfected, a rhythm of soft blows and exaggerated reactions that always ends in laughter.

Shigure pads across the room and lowers himself to sit beside you, far closer than necessary. You feel the brush of his knee against yours, the gentle press of his arm as he leans in, peering at your face with open curiosity.

“And what, pray tell, are you thinking about so deeply, hmm? You’ve got that faraway look again.”

His voice is quieter now, softer. You don’t miss the way his eyes linger on you, their usual playfulness tempered by something more genuine.

You hesitate, caught off-guard.

“I’m not… really thinking about anything,” you reply, though it’s not entirely true.

There’s always something brewing in your mind: a stray memory, a half-formed plan, the ever-present hum of life’s what-ifs. How are you supposed to enjoy the present with the past and future weighing down on you this heavily? But explaining those things feels impossible, so you simply shrug.

“Just enjoying the quiet, I guess.”

Shigure hums thoughtfully, tilting his head as if to examine you from a different angle. His dark eyes are warm, patient, even as his lips twitch with the beginnings of another grin.

“Ah, yes. You’ve been enchanted by my humble house. It’s no wonder you’ve fallen for me so completely.”

You roll your eyes while taking a brief look at the destroyed shoji, don’t bother moving away when he rests his head against your shoulder. His hair tickles your cheek, and you can smell the faint trace of his shampoo. Definitely something light and floral. Did he use yours again?

“You’re insufferable,” you murmur, but there’s no real bite in your words.

Your free hand comes up almost instinctively to comb through his hair, smoothing out some of the more unruly strands. He hums again, this time in obvious ease.

“You’re so good to me. “Really, I don’t deserve such a kind, gentle soul.”

You snort, flicking his ear lightly.

“That’s the first truthful thing you’ve said all morning.”

Shigure doesn’t respond right away, but you feel him shift, his weight settling more fully against your side. It’s a little unbalanced, but you don’t mind. His presence is warm, comforting against the sometimes harsh reality. And though he’s quiet now, you can sense the wheels turning in his head, the way his mind is always spinning with something - mischief, poetry, or the occasional genuine thought he’ll tuck away for safekeeping.

It’s in moments like this that you’re reminded of the duality of Shigure Sohma. He’s a mystery wrapped in jokes and half-truths, a man who wears his whimsy like armor but lets it slip when he’s close enough to trust. And though he can be infuriating, there’s a softness to him as well, a tenderness that he rarely shows but always carries.

“I like this,” he comments suddenly, his voice low enough that you almost miss it.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t look at you, but you can feel the weight of his words settle in the space between you.

“Like what?” you ask quietly.

“This.”

He gestures vaguely, his hand brushing yours where it rests on the floor.

“The mornings with you. The quiet. The way you let me bother you without pushing me away.”

There’s a smile in his tone while his breath caresses your skin gently, but it’s faint, almost self-conscious.

You blink, taken aback. Shigure is rarely so direct, so open. When was the last time he talked this seriously with you, let alone with his voice this muted? You don’t quite know what to say, but you feel something shift in your chest, a fluttering warmth, soft and fragile.

“I like it too,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Even when you’re being a nuisance.”

That earns you a chuckle, low and rich. Shigure lifts his head to look at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that makes him look far younger, far happier. He doesn’t say anything, but his gaze lingers, warm and steady, as though committing you to memory.

For a moment, the two of you simply sit there, the world fading into the background. The sunlight shifts, casting patterns across the floorboards, and the faint scent of tea and spring air fills the room. It’s the kind of moment that feels fragile, like it could shatter if you so much as breathe too loudly. You can’t help but allow your eyes to rest for a moment, to take in the calmness of the moment.

But then Shigure sighs dramatically, breaking the spell.

“Ah, I suppose I’ll have to go hunt for food if I want to survive this cruel, neglectful treatment.”

You laugh, the sound light and unrestrained.

“There’s toast in the kitchen. You’re so dramatic”, you remind him again, shaking your head.

“And yet you adore me,” he remarks, pushing himself to his feet with exaggerated effort.

He stretches, his yukata slipping slightly from one shoulder, and you catch the briefest glimpse of his collarbone before he adjusts it. A man looking this good with that cheeky mouth…How is your stay here supposed to end in a good way?

“Maybe I do,” you reply without thinking.

The words slip out way too easily, carried by the warmth in your chest and the sight in front of you.

Shigure freezes, his hand halfway to his hair. For a moment, you think you’ve gone too far, that you’ve somehow crossed an invisible line. Does he feel uncomfortable, insulted even? But then he turns, his expression unreadable, and you feel your breath catch.

“Careful, my dear,” he murmurs, his voice low and almost teasing.

There’s a flicker of something else in his eyes. something softer, more vulnerable. Something you’ve never caught before in his gaze. For a moment, time seems to stand still, your breath gets stuck in your throat.

“I might just take you seriously.”

You hold his gaze, the words lingering in the air between you. And though your heart is racing, you manage a small, steady smile.

“Maybe you should.”

[d0llcuries]

Hi! girl I loved "𝓣𝗐𝗈 𝖿𝗅𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝖺𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗌" so much, thank you so much for writing you're so talented!❤️ (a part two would be amazing)

I have another request, what do you think of headcannons about what it would be like to live with the sully family having a relationship with neteyam? like something really fluff with him and the whole family that would be so sweet!

HOME IN HIS ARMS

pairing(s): neteyam x fem!na'vi reader

summary: living with the sully family hcs

author's note: crazy how this request is how i find out i suck at writing hcs ദ്ദി(ㅠᯅㅠ) i didn't eat this one up i'm so sorry. buuut part two of lying has to stop will hopefully make up for my tepid work 😮‍💨

edit: also thank you guys sm for all your kind words regarding my writing ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ they mean sm to me

the mornings start slow with the sun filtering through the woven walls of the tent, a soft, golden glow warming your skin. the air smells like dew and wood, a scent that has become as familiar as his arms around you.

you wake first, always, because he sleeps like someone who’s at peace now, like he doesn’t have to prove anything in his dreams. but still, his breath is steady and warm against your neck, his tail loosely draped over your hip like it’s forgotten its way in the night.

the whole place feels like it’s still sleeping. except for tuk. tuk’s always awake too early, her little feet running over the floors leaving you wonder where she gets all that energy from.

breakfast is a collective effort. neytiri hums under her breath, her hands steady and practiced, moving through routines you’re still learning. jake’s already outside, half-joking, half-serious about how he used to enjoy quiet mornings before the chaos of a family like this one.

neteyam never leaves your side during these times. he’s always close, a hand grazing yours or his tail flicking out, brushing against your leg, as if checking to make sure you're still there, still his.

kiri pretends not to notice, but you see the soft smile she hides. lo’ak doesn’t bother pretending, he rolls his eyes and makes a snide comment that only earns him a quick shove from neteyam.

everything about the sullys feels like being folded into something much larger than you. they’re loud and they’re loving, and they’ve accepted you as one of them, in ways that don’t need words.

there are nights when you sit around the fire, the warmth of it dancing across your skin, neytiri’s voice lifting in stories you’re only just starting to understand. neteyam’s hand rests on your thigh, grounding you to this moment, to him, to everything that matters.

his siblings tease him for being so devoted, but you know they’re envious. there’s a quiet admiration in their jests, like they can see just how deeply he loves, how he holds you like something precious but strong at the same time.

the way he looks at you, sometimes, it feels like you’re more than just a part of his world—you are his world, the center of it. it’s a heavy kind of love, but he carries it so lightly, so naturally, like it’s the only way he knows how to be.

tuk always finds her way into your lap by the end of the night, her small body curling up against yours as if you’ve always been there. shes fallen asleep there more times than you can count. her trust in you is something you’ve earned over small moments, little glances, the way you’ve caught her when she stumbles, the way neteyam watches over her when he thinks no one else notices.

you learn to braid each other’s hair, sitting with neytiri as she laughs softly, a rare sound that feels like sunlight, and it’s in those moments you understand where neteyam got that laugh of his—the one that’s all warmth and safety and home.

there are nights when the two of you sneak off, because even in a family this close, you need time alone. he takes your hand, pulling you through the trees, both of you laughing quietly as if you’re kids again, like you’re the only two people in the world.

he holds you in the quiet, his breath against your skin, his hands firm but gentle. there’s a reverence in the way he touches you, like he’s still amazed you’re his, after everything, that you chose him too.- and maybe you don’t say it out loud every time, but you feel it—this is home, in all its loud, messy, chaotic glory. the sullys are your family now, and neteyam… neteyam is everything.

you think, sometimes, about how you used to imagine love would be. you never thought it would be this simple, this easy. you never thought it would feel like breathing.

at night, after the day has worn down, when the fire has died low and the stars press close, it’s just you and neteyam. he pulls you into his arms, his chest solid and warm against your back, and it’s like the world outside doesn’t exist anymore.

sometimes, he’ll whisper things in your ear, soft promises about the future, about how he’ll always be there, how this—you and him—is forever. and you believe him, because he’s never given you a reason not to.

you find yourself thinking that this is what love is supposed to feel like—not some grand, sweeping romance, but something steady, something sure. it’s in the way he holds you when you’re tired, the way his family makes space for you without question, the way the forest feels like home now that you’re with him.

there’s no rush, no urgency in your days together. it’s like you’ve both found your rhythm, the steady pulse of a life lived in quiet harmony with the world around you, with each other.

and when he kisses you, it’s always slow, always gentle, like he has all the time in the world. because he does, and so do you.

[uzurimisery]

hi! i love your work for logan. would you be willing to write anymore smut for him? maybe when him and the reader were still together and teaching at the school?

oh boy can i!

Warnings: unprotected sex, used of girl, same timeline as 'bitter frost, honey I'm coming home'

He blamed it on the skirt you wore today. The way it clung to the curve of your ass. Couldn’t keep his fucking eyes off of your legs and how plush your thighs were, how the fabric rode up just a bit when you bent over. It wasn’t even that short; it stopped maybe an inch or two above your knees, which is a respectable length for a teacher. But those few inches made a world of difference to him. Your red v-neck sweat tucked into it showed off your collarbones, too. The slope of your neck, how your pule fluttered just beneath the skin. He just wanted to bite the soft, supple skin of your neck again. Leave a bruise so you’d have a piece of him everywhere you went.

Yeah, that was why he was so out of his mind today, slinking into your office right as you closed your door to grade some papers.  The lock clicked into place behind him.

“Heya doll,” he speaks while circling your desk. His boots thud on the wood floors as he walks. He goes past the two chairs you’ve got set up facing it and comes up right behind you.

Your chair isn’t one that’s got a particularly high back, so Logan leans over it and wraps his arms around your shoulders. Pulling you into the warmth of his chest. You go a little limp at the contact, the tension in your shoulders melting from his warmth. He can smell the salt of your skin mixing with your conditioner and lotion, and it’s going straight to his already half-hard cock straining against his zipper.

“Long day?” He speaks in a whispered breath that dances down your spine.

“Very,” you lean back in his embrace with a sigh, head falling to the side, and he’s got you right where he wants you—exposed, vulnerable, ripe for the goddamn picking.

He “Hmms” while kissing the exposed side of your neck, trailing down the sensitive hollow of your throat.

You squirm a little bit  as he does. Always been sensitive spot for you. Logan just has to push you a little bit more and get you a little bit further.

“Want me to make you feel better?” His right-hand finds the opening of your sweat and slides past it to cup your left breast. Fingertips tracing the lace of your bra. You’ve got one of those unlined ones on today, so he can feel your nipple get hard as he gropes at your breast. 

He pinches at it, pressing it flat, which makes you whimper, before rubbing it between his two fingers. Logan smells the change in the air, like sweet honey drizzle coating the back of the throat that makes his mouth water.

“You're wet, princess.” His teeth catch on your skin, teasing bites peppered over it.

Your moans like a reward for doing a good job, but he can hear just how many people are traversing the halls of school right now, and he does not want to be interrupted. He should carry you out to your noise-proofed quarters, courtesy of his night terrors. It made great for fucking you. Making you ride him till your throat was raw and your knees were weak from bouncing, then he’d flip you over on your front and keep fucking you. Pinning you down and lost in the rhythm of his hips. He’d keep going as your eyes glassed over with a fucked out expression on your face, and you’d look up at him like you owed him your life. You made the best fucking noises when he fucked you like that. Pitched whines and breathy moans as he slammed his hips against yours. Begging him, pleading with him. Telling him to go hard, you can take it, to knot you.

You shift in the chair, causing it to creak.

“Don’t bite.” 

Your tone sounds stern, like when you admonish one of the kids. Makes him want to push you further on it. Getcha mad at him and tell him off.

“Just can’t help myself,” he bites you again, and you turn and grab his jaw, red-lacquered nails catching in the light, digging into his skin. It should be painful, but it just turns him on more.

“Don’t bite.”

Oh, there’s that fire he loves so much. God, he loves you. 

You close the distance, meeting his lips in a messy, open-mouth kiss. Neither one of you bothers with sheepish pecks when you’re worked up. Your tongue works against his, fighting to come out dominant before you pull back, catching his bottom lip with your teeth and applying some pressure.

It only makes him smile, letting his lip slip free and crash against you. 

It’s rough the way you make out, your hand on his jaw and your nails digging in, his tongue pushing yours down. How he squeezes your breast and tweaks your nipple till you moan, and he’s able to spin your chair around and get down on his knees between your legs. He’s eye level with your pussy like this, and his hands slide up your skirt, bunching it at your hips to expose your damp panties. The scent of your arousal hangs heavy in the air. It’s like he can watch more of your arousal leak out and soak the fabric, watch how it spreads and darkens the fabric. 

His nostrils flare as he gets another whiff. Logan’s long come to terms with the fact he’s a dirty dog when it comes to you. 

You lift your hips from the seat and slide your panties down your thighs. When they reach your knees, he takes over, sliding them completely off and pockets them. Shimmying down the seat, nearly hanging off the edge of it, you throw your legs over his shoulders as he comes closer to your core. The office air is cool on your wet pussy

Logan has never understood men who didn’t eat pussy because he might go crazy if he never got to eat yours again. It’s an addiction for him, really, a craving that never goes away. He’s always gotta give his girl the princess treatment. The biggest problem was how hard it got him in his jeans, cock straining against the dark wash denim.

His right hand held your leg steady while his left spread your wet folds apart, revealing your swollen clit. Logan’s tongue flicked out as he leaned forward and made contact. He circles your clit with his tongue, pushing it along with the motion before he drags it down to your hole and laps up some of your juices.  

He’d quit drinking if they bottled it.

His nose bumps your clit as you do, making you arch your back and moan. God, he loved the way you responded to his touch. It made him feel like he won the lottery when he put his tongue on your clit and flicked it side, and your hands flew to his hair. Fisting the strands, pulling him closer by them.

He laps at your clit rhythmically, trying to get your gushing on his tongue as you as he can--fucking loves the taste of your pussy. It was almost sweet and heady when you came on his tongue. Logan takes his left middle finger and inserts it into you, a mix of salvia and your wetness, letting him slide in easily. He pumps it in and out a few times before adding a second finger. Making you cum is his favorite way to relieve stress. 

One of your hands flies to cover your mouth as he fingers you before adding a third to the mix. Your walls flutter around him like they’re thankful to have him inside. All the while, his tongue is flicking your clit back and forth. Your body trembles as he works you to a fever pitch, hips lifting off the chair. Pushing your pussy further in his face, you cum, toes curling in your flats, as he takes you over the edge, and you moan into your hand.

Logan growls as your taste explodes on his tongue. He pulls back, picks you up from your chair, and puts you face down on your desk, snaking his left hand around your front to lift your hips to angle you better. Quickly unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans, he lets them fall to his midthigh as he pushes his boxer briefs down the free his leaking cock.

“Spread your legs for me,” he orders, voice low and commanding.

You obey, wiggling your hips a bit as you do, eager to have him inside you. He slides his dick through your folds. Not once. Not twice. But three times, he rakes himself over your slit. Each time the fat mushroom tip catches on your entrance, it makes anticipation settle in your belly before he finally lines himself up right and inserts himself.

It knocks the wind out of you when he goes from tip to base in a matter of seconds, not easing you into it. A low guttural moan escapes Logan's lips at the sensation of being inside you. It sends a rush of adrenaline through him. 

He sets his pace, and its rough, deep strokes slamming into you. It’s punishing and relentless. They make your whole body rock against your dark oak desk as he fucks you. The woods cold under you, your breasts squished, your nipples hard against the surface. It makes your body shudder with the force he's using. It makes you feel like a doll in his arms, made to relieve his stress, and the edges of your vision blur.

The smack of his hips meeting your echos in the room as a second orgasm quickly builds in you as Logan's balls slap your clit with each stroke. He feels you start to clench down around him and moves his left hand to play with your clit. There's so much pressure built low in your stomach.

“Fucking look at you,” Logan mutters, “Taking it like a champ princess. That's my perfect girl.” 

His words go straight to your pussy, your hips rocking back to meet his thrusts, and you nearly cum.

“Fuck,” he pulls out briefly to flip you on your back, resting his hand behind your head as he did so before grabbing your hips, and you wrap your legs around his waist. “Can’t cum unless I see that pretty face.”

“Such a romantic.” 

“Is that what they’re calling romantic these days?” 

Logan speaks as he plunges back into you, hands grasping at your waist, pushing your back further up the desk. You’ve gotten so warm the cool wood feels nice. He pulls up your sweater, going to see your breasts, and tugs down the cups of your bra so they sit just under them, pushing them up. 

“Jesus fuck,” he groans, bending down and catching a nipple in his mouth. Teasing it, his teeth scraping at it as he nips and sucks at it, his other hand coming to pinch and pull the other. The last thing he wants is any part of you feeling neglected now. The added stimulation sends you soaring, a deep pressure building up low in your stomach. Your body tenses, muscles lock in place, and your breathing stops.

With a loud pop, Logan releases your breast and places one hand on your lower abdomen, pressing down firmly while the other hand pinches your clit. It’s so overwhelming you feel like you might pass out as he thrusts into you wildly. 

You climax with a silent scream, head falling to the side as pure ecstasy washes over you and liquid gushes out of your pussy and all over Logan’s front. It is so intense it feels like it lasts forever as a regular orgasm follows right behind it as he furiously plays with your clit. Your body shakes and trembles as it fucks you through it, walls clenching down tight around him, but he continues to fuck you through it. The way he’s looking down at you now tells you he’s not done for the night either, that he wants you in bed all weekend till you get fawn legs when you try to walk. 

The lights in the room flicker as his thrusts grow more urgent and intense. Your nails dig into his arm, cutting the skin as he just keeps plowing into you. He still doesn’t slow down, driven just to keep going, chasing his own release. It doesn’t even feel like his knot has started to swell yet. You’re grateful by this time that the hallway outside is mostly empty of the slick wet slaps of skin and creaking of your desk, which would be heard by anyone passing by, as a sob escapes your lips from just how good he’s fucking you. 

His breath is hitched, eyes wild, focused in on where his cock stretches out your pussy and your orgasm that coats it. Your head feels fuzzy, and you aren't sure when the one orgasm ends and the other starts. It's oversensitive at this point, but your pleasure is so much that it's indistinguishable from the pain of the sensitivity.

Logan growls before he thrusts again, his muscles trembling as his orgasm approaches. Somehow, he thrusts deeper, harder, trying to scratch the itch. Hips slam against yours so roughly before he cums inside you with a groan, his fingers digging into your hips. His thrust slow, but they won't stop as how spurts of cums fill you. It spills out from you, unable to fit his spend and his cock inside you, but Logan wants to fuck as much of it as he can back up into your shaking body. Lazy, shallow thrusts follow until he’s completely spent.

Finally satisfied, he collapses on top of you, head buried in your chest. The air reeks of sex and sweat as the two of you catch your breath. Both of you lay there for a moment, enjoying the closeness. This week has been hectic at the school, and you haven’t seen much of each other. 

“Didn’t know you could squirt,” he laughs while pulling out of you and tucking himself back into his jeans. He takes your panties from earlier and uses them to wipe you up.

“Don’t look so proud of yourself.”

Sliding off the desk, you fix your skirt. Guess you’ll go commando since they were not covered in cum. 

“Shook like a leaf in the wind.”

“I will burn your retinas.” you bent down to slide back on your flats that come off during your quickie.

He smacks your ass.

“Only gonna grow back.”

©️ uzuzrimisery