#cupids blind arrow

[logaenhowlett]

I THINK THEY CALL THIS LOVE - L.H.

Summary: A flat tire, a blinding snowstorm, and a mix-up leads you to Logan's cabin. Things happen after another, and before you know it, Christmas means being snowed in with a complete stranger.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: 6.0k of pure fluff, Mutual pining (even Logan isn’t immune to cupid’s arrow), Sickeningly sweet slow burn, Major ‘just kiss already’ energy, How the Grinch Stole Christmas reference (pretend it exists in the 80s)

A/N: Can this happen to me please? And yes, it's inspired by The Holiday. Title creds to Elliot James Reay. Enjoy and happy holidays everyone, may your dreams be blessed with this beautiful man!

MASTERLIST

Nestled amidst snow-kissed pine trees, our cozy cabin offers a serene escape. Simply a perfect winter retreat overlooking breathtaking valleys and stunning mountain ranges, where you can unwind or explore our charming town just a short drive away.

Light cascades over his features, the glow harsh and bright as he squints at your phone, reading the brief description. Gusts of wind whip past as you wait expectantly, shifting your weight from one foot to another to keep warm.

"You got the wrong place," he says, peering out from behind the partially opened door.

Mouth agape, cold breaths misting in the chilly night air, you stare at him in disbelief. "This is the address they gave me," you reply desperately. It's a pointless attempt, you're not sure why you even bother trying. Clearly, you've ended up in the wrong place and arguing with this stranger won't change that.

"Well, they made a mistake, alright?" Brows creasing in mild annoyance, he leans forward, "S'my house. I live here.” The words hang in the air, heavy and final, punctuated by the squelch of your boots slightly sinking into the snow.

With a defeated sigh, you shuffle away from his front porch, the biting wind nipping at your exposed skin. Gloved fingers stiff from the cold, you fumble with the near-frozen handle of your car, the metallic hinges protesting as you wrench it open with a grunt. The thought of finding someplace to at least spend the night fills you with dread. Surely, scrambling at the last minute is bound to leave very few and certainly overpriced options.

Glancing back, you trace his figure silhouetted against the amber glow radiating from behind. "You wouldn't happen to know if there's a motel around, would you?" you ask, blinking tiredly against the glare.

"Closest one's 'bout an hour away." His expression remains unreadable, though, a flicker of something - perhaps sympathy - crosses his face. Just as you're sliding into the driver's seat, his voice cuts across the distance. "Hey - wait," he calls out, emerging from his house.

The collar of his flannel flaps from the breeze, and glimpses of the dark curls on his chest peek through the unbuttoned top. You wonder how the hell he's not shivering as he trudges through the snow, hands merely shoved deep into his pockets. He stops near your window, breath fogging up the glass as he looks at you hesitantly. "S'not safe to drive right now," he murmurs, weighing his next words, "Look, why don't you stay here tonight and figure somethin' out tomorrow?"

His offer takes you by surprise. The memory of his earlier dismissiveness stings, making the shift more jarring. Incoherent murmurs tumble from your throat, eyes widening at the thought of spending the night at this stranger's house. A ridiculously attractive stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. Sensing your unease, he sighs softly. "I get it, you don't know me. But, you're not gonna find anythin' this late anyway," he shrugs, taking a small step backwards, "S'up to you, just sayin'."

The rhythmic tapping of your fingers against the steering wheel echoes within the car. Doubt creeps into your mind as you study him, and eventually, the faint, encouraging smile he returns draws a shaky exhale. With a slight nod, you kill the engine.

Logan - as you learn shortly after - is a rather simple man. The interior of his cabin is minimal, almost sterile in nature and devoid of any personal touches. Yet, the warmth of the fireplace bathes the space in a cozy, inviting light. Scattered beer bottles and a couple of well-worn paperbacks lay on the coffee table, along with a radio humming a smooth jazz tune. A vague scent of pine lingers in the air, mingling with the smokiness of the aged wooden beams crisscrossing the ceiling. Shockingly, there isn't a single festive ornament in sight unlike the heavily decorated neighbourhoods you drove through to get here. And honestly, the longer you spend in his company, the more questions arise.

"Quiet night in, huh?" you note, trailing after him.

"Usually how it goes," he replies with a huff, the muscles of his back straining against his flannel as he wheels your suitcase towards the single door at the end of the hallway.

"Oh. I can sleep on the couch, you don’t need to–"

Despite your protests, Logan gestures inside, stepping back for you to enter. "Take the bed, I'll be out there." And there's absolutely no room for a debate; the set of his jaw and the determined glint in his eyes make that painstakingly clear. Still, he can't contain his amusement as you open your mouth again. "Don't fight me on this, alright?" he adds, fixing you with a pointed gaze.

You hold eye contact for a few seconds, the intensity slowly melting your resistance. Reluctantly, you nod and he flicks a switch, a soothing glow casts over the room. The bed, with its crisp white sheets and a pleasantly startling number of pillows, seems so comfy you almost sigh in relief. "If you need anythin', just ask," he continues, hand hovering over the knob.

The door creaks behind him as you call out his name. Pausing his motion, he turns around, eyeing you with patient curiosity. Now, in proper lighting, you spot the flecks of green in his eyes, the perfectly tousled waves of his hair, and the incredibly soft beard you suddenly want to stroke. "Thank you," you rasp, your voice inexplicably thick with surprise.

Logan nods once with a tight-lipped smile. "My pleasure," he whispers, bidding you good night. A beat of silence passes, then the muffled sound of his footsteps receding down the hallway. Grumbling in confusion, you slide under the covers, the blanket enveloping you in a much-needed embrace.

Today was a bad day.

A truly awful, no-good, very bad day. Last night, when you'd impulsively booked this getaway, the possibility of handling flat tires and battling harsh weather only to end up at the wrong place, all because of some mix-up never crossed your mind. It seemed like the perfect escape, a chance to relax and enjoy the Christmas cheer, a well-deserved break from the months of stress and the endless workdays. Unfortunately, luck - the heartless bastard - had other plans. Logan, however, managed to salvage your spirits, at least a little, with his unexpected goodwill.

So maybe, today was a slightly less bad day.

The smoke alarm is moments from a full-blown wail. Logan curses under his breath, beads of sweat trickling down his temple. He'd only wanted to make a simple stack of pancakes, yet the kitchen remains a travesty and the once-promising batter now a charred mess on the griddle.

It's all unchartered territory, having someone over, much less a complete stranger. Save for the rare visit from his lumberjack buddies, which involves more beer than conversation, or the neighbourly kindness of Diane, the elderly woman who regularly presses homemade meals into his hands in exchange for mending broken fences or leaky pipes, he's never had any real company. And so, he doesn't exactly know what compelled him to wake up earlier than usual and rummage through the sparsely stocked shelves to whip up something decent.

Tossing a quick, and almost furtive glance down the hallway, the steady cadence of your breathing filters through the bedroom walls. Logan shakes his head, resignation twisting his lips. Unimpressed with his terrible attempt, he scrapes the burnt food into the trash.

A restless energy thrums beneath his skin, his mind consumed by a nervous current since he'd made the impulsive offer last night. Moving through the cabin like a man possessed, he rearranges the perfectly stacked firewood, dusts the already pristine surfaces, and even opens the refrigerator for the fourth time only to stare blankly at its contents, having gained nothing but a momentary distraction. He's sure the carpet is dented from the sheer number of times he's paced the same worn track, each turn drawing him closer to the bedroom, then away again.

The quietness is deafening for a couple of hours until the soft thumping of your footsteps quirks his ears. Logan stops fiddling with the salt and pepper shakers, then straightens his posture to lean against the kitchen counter.

The fading smell of something wrinkles your nose. "I didn't sleep through a forest fire or anything, right?" you mumble, rubbing your eyes tiredly with the back of your hand.

His eyes involuntarily flick towards the stove, and for a fleeting moment, a sheepish smile touches his lips. "Don't worry 'bout it," he says a little too quickly, "Sleep well?" The steam from his coffee curls upwards as he takes a slow sip.

"I did, and thank you for letting me stay. You didn't have to do that." He nods in response, trying to downplay the gesture.

A charged silence stretches between you, crackling with unspoken thoughts and lingering awkwardness. There's a brief and almost hesitant exchange of glances before you speak at the same time.

"I should get going then–"

"There's a diner nearby–"

Stopping abruptly, a slightly embarrassed chuckle escapes your lips, mirroring the faint grin that tugs at the corners of his mouth. The shared laughter dissipates some of the tension and the atmosphere becomes almost comfortable. Only a second passes before Logan tries again, the words tumbling out a little faster than he intends. "There's a diner nearby if you're hungry."

He doesn't know why he just said that - the thought hadn't been consciously formed at all. Though he feels this strange pull, this unexpected urge to prolong the conversation, a subtle plea for you to stay. He eyes you with barely concealed anticipation, awaiting your reaction with bated breath.

"Okay, I have to ask. What's with the severe lack of Christmas decor?"

Logan watches you swirl the last of your milkshake, the metal spoon clinking against the glass. The diner's fluorescent lights, while unforgiving to most, seem to soften as they trace the delicate curve of your jawline, highlighting the pale flush of your cheeks courtesy of the winter air. Leaning back against the worn leather of the booth, a small smile spreads across his face as he considers your question. His gaze sweeps over the room, noting the strings of twinkling lights haphazardly draped around the tables, the paper snowflakes dangling from the ceiling and a rather lopsided Christmas tree tucked next to the jukebox.

"S'not really my thing," he admits, a faint shrug lifting his broad shoulders.

"Not even a little?" you tease, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement, his smile widening just a fraction. "Never had a reason," he says with an almost offhand casualness. But the flicker of curiosity, or perhaps even the touch of concern, in your expression doesn't escape him. Logan catches the way your lips press together for a moment, a subtle sign of contemplation as you piece together the sparse details you'd gathered about him. Clearing his throat, he shifts slightly in his seat. "Why'd you pick this town?" he tries, changing the subject.

"It was the cheapest option. Or at least, in comparison."

He chuckles as you groan, "So this was all a spontaneous decision."

"Hey, it's my turn to ask!" you interject, raising a hand in mock protest.

"Wasn't a question," he retorts playfully.

Nearly two hours slip by with this back-and-forth, lighthearted volley of exchanges. The diner empties out slowly, the hectic energy subsiding into a quieter hum as the two of you settle into a pleasant rhythm, taking turns to ask questions. Most of them are silly, designed to elicit a laugh or a quick anecdote - but the tone shifts here and there, venturing into deeper waters. The laughter doesn't disappear entirely, but it's interspersed with moments of thoughtful silence and understanding.

"So, what do you actually do? You know, besides running this bed and breakfast thing?"

Shaking his head, Logan rolls his eyes at your joke. "Work down at the lumberyard just like the next guy 'round here," he says with a vague gesture. "And what do you actually do?" His voice mimicking the same teasing tone you'd used.

The slight downturn of your smile takes him aback. "Journalist." It comes out strained, almost clipped. "I cover a bit of everything - well, whatever my boss throws at me anyway." The last part is delivered with a small, forced chuckle and he can't help but notice the change in your demeanour, the way your shoulders stiffen or how your jaw tightens. And despite not being the cause of it, regret fills him immediately, a sharp pang of guilt that settles in his stomach.

"Sounds... rough."

"Exactly why I needed a break."

Logan understands, with a surprising clarity, that pity is the last thing you want. And so, he steers away from anything of that sort, discarding the sympathetic expression that involuntarily surfaces. "Too bad your plans went to shit, huh?" he offers bluntly, his eyes, however, soften in the slightest.

Something akin to gratefulness shines in your smile, "Tell me about it."

The diffused light of the morning sun seeps through the frosted panes of the bedroom window. You stir awake, still incredibly tired as the remnants of a restless night hover like a persistent fog. Logan's bed had generously provided warm company for hours as you scoured for new accommodations in the area. Of course, with the holiday season, the internet had proven a frustrating dead end, most places booked solid during this time of year. Sleeping in your car was starting to feel like the only option until you stumbled upon a listing for a small lodge on the outskirts of town that had become vacant due to a last-minute cancellation.

The relief had been immense, a great wave washing over you as you secured the reservation. But now, as you slowly surface from sleep, the memory of that frantic search lingers, a dull ache pressing behind your eyes. Stretching out your stiff limbs, you squint at the alarm clock on the bedside table, wincing slightly at the early hour. And despite exhaustion weighing you down, a sense of purpose pushes you out of bed.

The wheels of your suitcase rumble against the wooden floorboards as you emerge from the hallway. Logan stands by the large window, his back a dark silhouette against the stark white landscape beyond. His gaze locks onto yours instantly, a look of sympathy - tinged with wry amusement - softens his features. "Hate to break it to you, but–" he begins, gesturing outside with a tilt of his head.

"Wha– oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me!"

A thick layer of fresh snow blankets the ground. The pine trees, a deep green last night, now laden with a heavy dusting, branches drooping under the weight. The scene is undeniably perfect, picturesque even. But the beauty is utterly lost on you in that moment. Everything is covered with a pristine white expanse that stretches as far as the eye can see. And there's simply no way in hell you can step out without sinking knee-deep, much less move your car even an inch.

"Happened overnight," his voice calm against your rising irritation. "Weather guy said it'll last a few days." Logan senses your distress, the dejected slump of your posture drawing genuine concern. "Listen, don't worry 'bout stayin' here. I don't mind at all, okay?" His reassurance eases your worries by a fraction, the sincerity and sheer honesty in his tone dispelling any hesitation creeping in. "'m serious," he adds gently.

"Thank you... so much, Logan. Really," you manage, the words catching in your throat.

And you are. Deeply, and truly grateful. Your carefully laid plans once again derailed by something beyond your control. Yet, it could have been so much worse. Thanks to Logan's unwavering support, his willingness to welcome a stranger, you're not completely shelterless while the snowstorm continues. The idyllic Christmas getaway you envisioned withers into a distant mirage. But in this moment, surrounded by the warmth of his presence, this feels more than enough.

Hours pass as you drift into a well-deserved nap on the couch, the hushed murmur of the wind outside lulling you into a peaceful slumber. The quiet doesn't last. A sudden bang echoes through the cabin, jolting you awake. "The fuck–" you murmur, disoriented as you stand up. Frowning at the interruption, you pad towards the noise, and eventually, stop dead in your tracks. "Holy shit."

Snow dusts his hair and shoulders, clinging to the rough fabric of his denim jacket. Logan, cheeks flushed red from the cold, wrestles a decent-sized fir tree through the back door. And judging by his grunts, it's evidently too wide for the opening. "Good, you're up. Hold the door, would ya?" he grumbles, muscles flexing against its considerable weight as he inches it further and further inside.

Shock momentarily freezes you in place, but his request snaps you out of your stupor. Rushing forward, you push the door with all your strength, the hinges groaning as you force it open at an awkward angle. With a final, mighty heave and a muttered curse, he manages to carry it fully indoors.

"What... is this?" you ask bewildered. A flurry of snowflakes and pine needles spread onto the floor, the crisp scent of nature filling the space. It's a wild and untamed thing, the sight of it so random and yet, somewhat festive.

"S'clearly a tree."

He doesn't cower from your glare. "Yes, I know it's a tree. What's it doing in your living room?"

Logan pauses briefly, and you can’t quite decipher if the deepening flush on his cheeks is solely from the lingering chill or something else entirely. He avoids your direct gaze for a second. "Figured since you're stuck here, might as well decorate a little." A studied nonchalance masks his attitude as if lugging a six-foot tree into his cabin during a raging blizzard is the most normal thing in the world.

Stunned doesn't even begin to capture the whirlwind of emotions churning within. Logan had already opened his home to you, and now, he's gone to the trouble of dragging this laughably enormous tree inside, all in an effort to cheer you up. Something spreads through your chest in an almost overwhelming capacity and the air suddenly feels intimate. And expressing the full extent of your appreciation feels too vulnerable, so you deflect instead. "Thought it wasn't really your thing."

"Yeah well, 'm runnin' a bed and breakfast as you said. Gotta keep my only guest happy, right?" His smile nearly melts you. The effect immediate and surprisingly potent. One that speaks of pure kindness and his quiet, unassuming warmth. One that makes the absurdity of a giant tree propped in the middle of his living room not only reasonable, but somehow perfectly right.

"I'll make sure to leave a four-star rating."

"Four?"

"I know you burnt something yesterday."

The evening comes quickly and time flies, surprisingly so, as you and Logan get to decorating. The lack of traditional ornaments proves to be only a minor obstacle because with a little creativity, colourful ribbons from old packages become tinsel, pinecones transform into rustic baubles, and even a string of spare light bulbs is carefully wrapped around the branches.

A natural rhythm falls into place as you work. You talk about random things: childhood memories, neighbours, and his startling lack of Christmas movie knowledge - a revelation that elicits a gasp of mock horror. There are moments when you stand close, brushing fingertips as you reach for the same thing. A shared look lasts a fraction too long, a breath catches in quiet air before one of you shyly steps aside. And strangely, despite the unusual circumstances that brought you together, despite the fact that you're practically strangers, it feels easy.

Fuck.

The shovel bites into the heavy snow with a satisfying crunch, lifting a thick slab that Logan heaves to the side of Diane's driveway. Earlier, her voice, tinged with desperation, had come through the answering machine, asking if he could possibly clear the mess in exchange for a warm dinner. He'd readily agreed, a gesture so typical in weather like this. But, in the course of the call, he'd let slip that he wasn't alone. And Diane, ever the hospitable and nosy soul, immediately insisted that you join in too.

He keeps a steady and even pace, breath puffing out in small white clouds in the fresh afternoon air. The muscles in his arms and back strain beneath his jacket as he clears a path through the deep drifts. You stand nearby - supposedly helping - bundled in your warmest clothes.

He's about to tease you for your lack of contribution, the words practically forming on his lips, when something cold and wet hits the back of his neck. Whirling around sharply with a surprised expression, he finds you grinning. The evidence is clear: melting remains of a snowball cling to your gloved hands, while a few snowflakes adorn your hair, creating a delicate halo of white around your face. With a few quick swipes, the snow is brushed away, his gaze not straying from yours.

"Now that was a mistake, darlin'."

Before he can retaliate, you turn and bolt. It's a comical attempt at an escape, a sort of waddling run rather than a sprint. Within seconds, he gains distance and tackles you gently, sending you both tumbling into a soft pile of snow. Laughter bubbles up and then fades, leaving Logan staring down at you. Inches apart, noses almost touching. A strange energy hangs in the air, pulling him imperceptibly closer.

"You kids'll catch a cold playing in that!"

He huffs a laugh, the sound a little breathless, a little unsteady, before pushing himself up. "Don't worry Diane, 'm takin' real good care of her," he yells back, extending a hand towards you.

"I'm sure you are," she mutters to herself knowingly. "C'mon in, dinner's ready!"

The kitchen table groans under the weight of the food: a glistening roast chicken sits proudly in the center, surrounded by steaming bowls of creamy mashed potatoes, green beans and thick slices of homemade bread. Diane bustles around the table, refilling your plates, urging you to try the gravy, her face beaming with satisfaction.

She shifts her attention to you, asking about your life, your hobbies, your family. Logan catches himself staring more than once, a faint blush rising as he diverts his gaze to the food. But the pull is undeniable; his eyes keep returning, hooked as if by an invisible thread.

Dinner passes in a warm haze of hearty conversation and fond memories. "Is this your son?" you ask, carrying the dishes to the sink. A framed photograph rests on the bookshelf near the doorway. Light falls onto the glass, reflecting a gentle glow on the smiling faces within.

"Yes, my Charlie. Real sweetheart that boy, calls every week to check in. He works down in the city, busy as can be. I haven't seen him in... it must be nearly two years now." The lines around her eyes crinkle slightly as she dusts the picture. "But Logan's been a blessing, I tell you. Always there for me."

"Don't go spreadin' that 'round. Can't have people thinkin' I give out special treatment," he retorts playfully, leaning against the counter.

"Oh, I think everyone can see who you're sweet on."

Logan shifts slightly, his smile faltering at the comment. A redness creeps up his neck, betraying his composure as he steals a glance at your stunned expression. Clearing his throat a little rougher than normal, he turns abruptly to the front door. "Gonna get some firewood."

A gust of wind, sharp and sudden as a physical blow, smacks against him the moment he steps outside. He gathers a few logs, the rough bark scraping against his fingers, but his mind remains stubbornly elsewhere. As he retraces his steps to the front porch, the gentle lilt of Diane's voice filters through the walls: "Could you get the door, honey?"

The door swings inwards, and his breath hitches immediately. Suspended just inches above, dangling from a slender crimson ribbon, hangs a sprig of mistletoe, its pale berries gleaming. Your gaze follows his, an embarrassed chuckle slipping out. From somewhere behind, Diane hums, a sound that resonates with blatant intention. The weight of the firewood in his arms increases tenfold as he meets your eyes. He can’t quite decipher the expression in them – amusement, a hint of nervousness, and something else he can’t quite place. "You don't... have to–" he mumbles.

Then, your attention dips down to his lips, a fleeting glance that sends a jolt of electricity through his body, momentarily stilling his heartbeat. He feels frozen, every muscle taut, the firewood heavy and forgotten. But at the very last second, you turn your head and press a kiss to his cheek instead.

The cherry of his cigar burns a steady ember. He leans against the rough-hewn logs of his cabin wall, the wood pressing into his back. The ghost of your lips on his cheek persists, a phantom touch that caresses his skin long after you’ve moved away. Logan draws deeply on the cigar, the smoke winding upwards in wisps, obscuring the stars above. He's only known you for a few days. So how could this feeling, this unsettling, foreign tinge of exhilaration, possibly exist?

"Hey."

The single word, soft yet distinct in the quiet night, floats like a whispered secret. Darkness traces the lines of your face, casting delicate shadows that accentuate your features. "Hey."

"Aren't you cold?"

"Run pretty warm," he replies, smoke escaping his mouth as he takes another drag. "Sorry ‘bout Diane. She can get a little–"

"No. That's alright." With a slight, almost languid wave of your hand, you brush aside his apology. "She's quite fond of you," you whisper, accompanied by a subtle upturn of your lips.

Logan huffs lightly as the silence returns. The moonlight, filtered through the branches overhead, creates dappled patterns of light and shadow across the ground. “So,” he begins, his gaze locking onto yours, “this... everythin' you hoped for?”

"No." Your response is immediate. A small, genuine smile blossoms on your face at his reaction, sending a wave of unexpected warmth surging through his chest - a warmth that has nothing to do with the slowly burning cigar held loosely between his fingers. "It's better."

He fights hard to school his expression, to maintain a neutral facade, not wanting to reveal how much your simple happiness affects him. A furrow appears between your brows, and your lips part slightly as if you’re about to speak, then hesitate. "What're you thinkin'?" he asks gently.

"Work. I don't wanna go back," you confess. The heavy sigh that follows speaks volumes. "It's just... not what I thought it would be. It's not what I want anymore." The dejection in your voice is palpable, a sadness that makes him ache to reach out and offer comfort.

Logan sees the weariness etched on your face, the way your gaze drifts towards the dark silhouette of the distant mountains as if seeking solace in the vast landscape. "Then what's keepin' you there?" he wonders aloud, an instinctive pull bringing him a step closer.

You pause almost abruptly, the flow of conversation halting as if it hit an invisible wall. The soft vulnerability that had been present just moments before vanishes, replaced by a guardedness that makes him instantly regret his question. "I should get some rest."

“Wait–”

“Good night, Logan,” you mumble, the door clicking shut behind you.

Hi, Mr. Grinch!

Cindy Lou?! What are you doing up there?

I came to see you. No one should be alone on Christmas.

The scene plays along as you and Logan sit beside each other on the couch. He’d suggested the movie, feigning a sudden interest in Christmas classics. But you knew the real reason. The insistent buzz of work emails had been plaguing your phone all day, and he’d seen the way your eyes kept flicking down to the screen, the shadow of worry that clouded your features. This was his quiet way of offering respite - a gentle distraction.

The light from the television flashes across his profile, illuminating the strong line of his jaw and the curve of his lips. He seems completely absorbed by the movie, but a stillness in his posture tells you he’s not as engrossed as he pretends to be.

A wave of drowsiness washes over you, your eyelids fluttering closed and then snapping open again in a futile attempt to stay awake. But the warmth of the fire, the muted hum of the movie, and Logan's comforting presence prove too much to resist. Your head lolls to the side, almost of its own accord, finding a soft landing against his shoulder.

The sharp clatter of pots and pans colliding rouses you from sleep. Then, a savory blend of garlic, herbs, and something undeniably rich and tomatoey, wafts through the air. As you round the corner to investigate, your jaw drops.

There, stands Logan, putting the final touches on a scene that looks straight out of a romcom. A small, round table has been pulled away from the wall and positioned near the window. Candlelight dances on the polished wood surface, reflecting in the delicate glassware he’d clearly unearthed from some hidden corner of the cabin. Two steaming bowls of pasta sit on either side.

His head lifts as you appear, some kind of hopeful affection shimmering in his eyes much like the flames themselves. He quickly steps back from the table, as if caught in the act of some grand romantic gesture. The glow from your makeshift yet charmingly decorated Christmas tree in the living room spills into the kitchen. It’s all so carefully arranged, so thoughtfully put together, that it takes your breath away.

"What's all this?"

"Nothin' special... just thought it'd be nice. Christmas Eve n' all."

"I'm... impressed," you stammer nervously, but the sentiment feels inadequate on your tongue.

Logan ducks his head rather shyly - a small almost boyish action that flushes his rugged features. He then moves with a newfound purpose, reaching for the back of the chair closest to you and pulling it out in a smooth motion. And in that moment, there’s no world where you’d say no. The thought doesn’t even cross your mind.

The meal had been delicious, but it was the shared conversation, the easy laughter that truly filled you. "Maybe I'll have to bump you up to five stars."

"Hm, that so?"

"I said maybe."

He chuckles, holding your gaze for a beat longer before rising suddenly. Static bursts into the room as he fiddles with the radio, a brief, crackling intrusion before giving way to fragmented voices and snippets of music. He continues turning the dial until a slow melody emerges. Spinning around, Logan extends a hand towards you, his palm facing upwards in a clear invitation. "C'mon, trust me," he whispers.

Hesitantly, you grasp his fingers - his touch gentle and firm. As you draw closer, the scent of woodsmoke and his cologne crowd your lungs. The movement feels surprisingly natural as if you’ve danced a hundred times before.

"This is... the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."

At your words, Logan’s hand tightens on your waist. The subtle change in his posture, the slight tilt of his head, the way his focus lies solely on you, steal any semblance of logic in your mind, replacing it with a dizzying rush of anticipation.

"Yeah? You deserve it," he murmurs back, his voice low and husky. "I like seein' you happy."

You make me happy. The words tremble on the tip of your tongue, daring to break free. The distance between your lips is almost nonexistent, a hair’s breadth separating you from the building tension. Time seems to slow, each second stretching into an eternity as you both lean in, the promise of a kiss hanging heavy in the air. You can almost taste him, a sweet ache swelling in your chest.

But the jarring tone of an emergency broadcast shatters the moment. “The severe snowstorm warning previously in effect for this region has now been lifted. A true Christmas miracle! Tomorrow will bring clear skies and–”

As you walk side-by-side along a beaten-down path through the mountains, the crisp breeze nipping at your cheeks, he steals glances at you, drinking in the sight of your joy. The moon paints the world in silver, mirroring the pure happiness that had been shining in your eyes. Logan had spent the day showing you around town: the local bakery, the family-owned bookstore. You’d even braved the icy air for a short walk along the frozen lake, nearly slipping until his quick reflexes caught you just in time.

He stops as the path opens up onto a breathtaking vista. The town below sprawls out like a miniature constellation, each house a tiny spark of light against the dark canvas of the valley. Strings of colourful lights crisscross the streets, weaving a tapestry of festive cheer. Logan watches you, a quiet satisfaction settling in his chest. He can see the awe etched on your face as you absorb all the details.

"What'd you think?"

"It's... beautiful," you exhale.

"Thought you'd like it." He shifts closer, subtle yet deliberate as his chest brushes lightly against your shoulder. A wildfire courses through his veins, temptation burning away his doubts. He’d wanted to kiss you - countless times. The impulse had been a constant undercurrent for days, a silent hum beneath the surface of every conversation, every shared look. Leaning in, breath warm against your ear, he whispers your name. "Tell me 'm not crazy. Tell me you don't want this and I'll stop."

"Cause darlin', 'm runnin' out of reasons why I shouldn't," he murmurs.

And then, you turn. The sweetness of your lips becomes almost intoxicating and unlike anything he ever imagined. Logan's hand trails up your side, mapping the curve of your waist. With a soft sigh, he dips his head further, deepening the kiss. All the pent-up tension comes crashing down as you pull away. It's a rush, a torrent that sweeps through him, rendering him breathless and nearly disoriented.

His thumb caresses your cheek, a silent plea that echoes the longing in his tone. "Don't... don't leave."

"Logan... I can't." His heart sinks. It’s not a dramatic plummet, but a slow, agonizing descent. Regret stings your eyes as his hand falls away.

"Why not? You're not happy workin' that job. Stay here, you'll find somethin'," he tries desperately.

"Stop. Please," you whisper, choked with emotion. "Let's just go back."

Heartache keeps Logan tossing and turning all night. Sleep had offered no escape, only a relentless replay of yesterday's conversation. His eyes burn, gritty and heavy as he pushes himself up on his elbows. But a strange unease stirs in his gut. He can't sense your presence. The air feels empty, lacking your familiar warmth and energy.

Panic flares in his mind. Did he push you away? Did you leave in the middle of the night? A cold dread grips his heart. He throws the blanket off, feet hitting the cold wooden floor with a thud.

Nausea rolls over him. A hollow ache in the pit of his stomach inches through his entire body. His hands tremble as he rakes them through his hair, breath catching in his throat. He’s about to give in to the rising despair, the crushing weight of believing you’re gone when a faint scent drifts in through the slightly open window. Relief knocks him hard, so intense his knees almost buckle.

"Fuck, I thought–" he starts, heading towards you.

"I quit."

Logan freezes, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What?"

"I quit my job." The corners of your mouth curve into a smile, and his heart leaps at the sight. "Running out of reasons why I shouldn't," you chuckle softly, fingers lacing together at the nape of his neck, the touch sending a shiver down his spine. "But next year, we're getting real decorations," you add playfully, and he grins.

"I'll buy some today, sweetheart."

[styledstickerz]

❤️Happy Valentine's Day❤��

[astraystayyh]

the premise : u apply lipgloss on felix because ofc he suits glossy lips except it takes an emotional turn???? because felix is perfect sorry. this is fluffyyyy and the sanest reaction to this man being ur bf (and these pics. these pics....)

“lixie, stay still,” you giggle, body nestled between felix’s legs. He's leaning against the bathroom counter, hands propped on the sleek ebony marble as you apply a shimmering lip gloss to his lips.

“but don't you wanna know what changbin said to me?”

“of course i wanna know what creative pickup line he used on you today. of course i do, baby,” you smile and he rolls his eyes at the sarcasm dripping from your tone, his tongue poking against his cheek before gliding in (fake) annoyance over his lips.

“but…” he muses, tilting his head to the side, his hands finding your waist once again (they've been away for two minutes too long).

“but when your mouth moves i can't technically apply lipgloss to it.”

“maybe you're just a bad make-up artist,” he teases, before quickly planting a kiss on your temple. “kidding baby. you're the very best at everything you do.”

“you're actually incapable of being mean,” you laugh heartily, your thumb swiping across his chiseled jaw.

“i am very much capable of being mean,” he pouts, his eyes widening slightly, golden light spilling into his pupils— it refracts into an arrow delving straight into your heart.

“you can't say this in the softest voice and expect me to agree.”

“i am very much capable of being mean,” he repeats, only this time his timber is many many octaves lower. his voice reverberates straight through your stomach, a deep melody orchestrating the untamed butterflies in your stomach.

“this is the equivalent of a kitten throwing a punch to me,” you pull his face closer, and he shakes his head, mouth shut tightly as you reapply the glitter infused gloss on his lips, going delicately over his cupid's bow. his eyes are boring onto you, yet you don't shy away from his gaze. it is a kind one— like a blanket knitted with love thrown over your body.

“done,” you whisper, hands trailing up to his hair, blonde silky locks akin to threads of sunlight. you think he must be favored by the stars— how they stored the sun inside every component of his being for him to keep safe.

“you have the prettiest lips,” your voice is suddenly hoarse, thumb grazing slightly over his lips, ones shaped like a heart— akin to the one freckle he has right underneath his eye.

it wasn't enough for him to have the kindest soul, no, love needed to be etched onto his skin too.

“felix,” you rasp out his name.

he catches your tears before you sense them falling, swiping his thumbs delicately on your cheek. “angel?”

“you're an idiot.”

“am i?” he brings you to his chest swiftly, your nose buried in the orange blossoms and sea notes of his skin— your home, the one you'd recognize in blindness, in despair, in safety, in love.

“i wanted to apply this lipgloss on you because shimmer would suit your angelic lips and then we'd make out. but you just had to be so beautiful and pure that it makes me wanna cry.”

“I'm sorry,” he says and you giggle, more tears spilling from your eyes.

“see, this is what i mean. why are you apologizing. this is so silly and you're so perfect and i can't believe you love me.”

“well i do,” he leans away, kissing your forehead tenderly. the sticky lip gloss lingers on your skin. “i love you so much, angel. i will only ever love you.”

“promise me?” you ask in a feat of vulnerability almost foreign to your being.

“i promise.”

you believe him.

“thank you. please don't put this lipgloss near anyone else or it'll make them cry too.”

“i think that's just you baby,” he grins, his thumb swiping over your thigh comfortingly, then, his nose brushing against your own. “kiss?”

you close your eyes, a sigh of relief, of longing escaping your body. “please.”

to be loved by felix— maybe you're the one favored by the stars after all.

[sakur4ii]

Rooted Connections

Charles Xavier x Erik Lensherr x Reader

the gender of the reader is not specified // based on X-Men Days Of Future Past, but the scenarios are made up

Summary: You are blind, and you control the earth (you also listen to the plants) you are like a mutant version of Toph Beifong basically. Also you and Charles bullying at Erik for not noticing the obvious.

maybe part 2 in the future? let me know if there are any mistakes because English is not my first language.

Charles "I'm not good with violence" Xavier

"‘Can I know where we are going?’ Charles asks, irritated by the mystery Logan is adding to the situation.

‘You'll see,’ the man replies with a half-amused smile.

In the future, you were a legend, a myth. The original X-Men never stopped talking about you when Logan arrived at the mansion, and over time, their respect for you and your amazing deeds only grew. Something Logan struggled to learn about you was that you had a romantic relationship with both Charles and Erik. He didn’t understand it until Ororo explained that it was a polyamorous relationship, which helped him understand much more about the Professor and his nemesis.

In the horrible future from which they sent him, Erik and Charles ordered him to force a reunion between the two of them and your first meeting with them.

Part of him found the situation amusing, feeling like Cupid but with bone claws instead of a bow and arrows. Another part of him hoped that this forced encounter wouldn’t jeopardize the relationship destined to be in the future.

Once they arrived at what was supposed to be your home, Peter was the first to get out of the car, followed by Hank, Charles, and Logan.

They were in a place slightly secluded from the city, full of forests, dirt, plants, and flowers. There was only one house in sight, well-maintained and decorated on the outside; Charles gave you credit for that.

They walked up the short driveway, and Logan didn’t even need to knock for the door to open by itself. Logan smiled amusedly while the other three men glanced at each other in confusion.

‘Excuse me,’ Logan murmured, entering the house, closely followed by the others.

The house was cozy and minimalist, with the few pieces of furniture placed against the walls, giving the appearance of more space than there actually was. They entered what seemed to be the kitchen, where there you were.

You had your back to them as you did something on the kitchen counter. Judging by the sound, you were preparing coffee.

‘Coffee or tea?’ you asked disinterestedly, creating another round of confused glances.

‘Coffee,’ Peter answered with a smile. Logan sat down at the table on the side of the kitchen, which had three chairs.

‘I suppose the furry guy and the one who's supposed to have paralyzed legs are more into tea,’ you commented as you set the water to boil. You pointed to the fridge next to you. ‘There's beer in the fridge.’

Logan raised his eyebrows at the two completely confused men in the kitchen doorway as he went for the said beer, while Peter took a seat.

Hank and Charles didn’t understand anything. Were you a telepath? Hank was in his human form, and Charles was full of the serum to be able to walk, so… how?

Logan returned to his seat, and that’s when you finally turned around, leaving them all (except for Wolverine) surprised.

Although you usually wore sunglasses, you had taken them off when your plants alerted you that someone from the future was coming to see you. Your eyes were white, lost.

You put your hands in your pockets and leaned your back against the counter. ‘I suppose they want you to help them get Magneto out of the Pentagon.’

‘She’s good,’ Peter murmured in amusement.

‘Are you a telepath?’ Charles finally asked, crossing his arms.

‘No,’ you smiled at him.

‘Then?’ Hank asked this time, while Logan just watched the interaction like it was a soap opera, sipping his beer.

‘I control anything to do with the earth, I understand plants, and I see through the roots of trees, although I can also sense all your movements through the ground we’re standing on,’ you explained, serving the tea and coffee.

You heard Peter whisper ‘cool’ as you handed out the cups.

‘Your plants told you,’ the professor concluded, taking a sip of tea, which happened to be his favorite flavor. You nodded.

‘People have told me you have good reflexes; is that true?’ Wolverine’s question made you smile slyly.

‘Of course it is.’

‘Then catch this,’ he challenged, tossing the empty beer bottle at you.

Hank and Charles looked horrified as he threw the bottle, while Peter was ready to intervene if necessary.

Through your bare feet, you could feel how almost everyone’s heart skipped a beat, but you caught the bottle in mid-air as if it was nothing. The collective sigh of relief that followed made you laugh.

‘So, are we going or what?’

-------------------------------------------------------

After successfully getting Magneto out of prison, you had to sit with Charles and Erik on the plane, according to Logan’s poor excuse, ‘So they don’t kill each other.’

After a tense conversation between the two, during which you just sat in silence, Erik spoke up.

‘Why are you barefoot?’

‘So I can see you'

Erik frowned in confusion, while Charles barely suppressed an amused smile. Erik still hadn’t realized that you were blind, since you were wearing sunglasses, and you hadn’t given any indication that you were. Of course, Erik found it odd that you were always looking straight ahead and not making eye contact with anyone, but he assumed you might be shy.

‘Am I missing an inside joke?’ Erik asked again, noticing his old friend’s poorly concealed smile.

‘No, nothing, don’t think too much about it,’ Charles replied, trying to hold back a laugh but failing, causing you to smile in amusement.

Magneto frowned in confusion, feeling like he was missing something, and he had to admit it made him a bit jealous. He finally reunites with Charles, the man he loves, and Charles has inside jokes with someone he’s never seen before and, as far as he knows, only met today.

‘Explain to me, what’s so funny?’ he asked, hiding his growing irritation, raising an eyebrow as he looked between the two of you, who were still stifling your laughter. Erik couldn’t help but notice that you were still looking straight ahead. ‘Is it something related to her mutation? I thought Y/N only controlled the earth and talked to plants?

‘You can do a lot with the earth, isn’t that right, Charles?’ you replied with amusement. The man in the wheelchair, who miraculously walks, rested his head on his hand, trying to hide his smile as he nodded. ‘Yes, yes, of course,’ he said.

Erik felt his irritation growing, along with his heart racing at the melodic sound of your shared, complicit laughter.

The gears in Magneto’s mind started to turn as he realized.

You were wearing sunglasses that you hadn’t taken off, even on the plane, always looking straight ahead, not having looked at either him or Charles this whole time, and you said you were barefoot so you could see him.

‘You’re blind,’ he concluded, rubbing his forehead in a mix of irritation and embarrassment, earning loud laughs from both of you that attracted curious and annoyed looks from Hank and Logan.

‘Took you long enough,’ you said, patting him on the shoulder in consolation.

‘Something I don’t understand is, how do you “see” through your feet now if we’re on a plane?’ Charles asked once his laughter had calmed down.

‘The earth has metal particles, and metal has earth particles, I suppose,’ you answered.

‘Does that mean you can control metal?’ Erik now asked with curiosity.

‘Sometimes, although it’s not easy at all, it requires a lot of effort,’ you replied, shrugging.

‘Interesting,’ they said in unison, glancing at each other and smiling as if they were thinking the same thing.

‘I sense tension… are you two going to kiss?’ you joked.

The two men rolled their eyes and smiled at each other, definitely thinking the same thing, while you felt confused because they didn’t give you any response."

Pt.2

[hyunebunx]

💝 with jisung 🤭

˖˙ ᰋ ── 💝- 'a sudden kiss to catch the partner off guard'

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: manaa <33 i hope you enjoy this as much as i loved writing it <3 thank you sm for requesting!

It wasn’t a rare occurrence to drop by and find your boyfriend creating, brainstorming for another song while strumming his guitar or tapping a pen on the table to the rhythm created in his head. Inspiration struck at the oddest of times, not giving him a break no matter how spent or exhausted he was. And you had to understand – when the creative juices were flowing and he was in the zone, nothing and absolutely nobody mattered until he finished the song.

You find yourself in his room, sitting across from each other on the floor as you’re listening to your boyfriend go on and on about this new idea of his, strumming random chords on his guitar as he struggled to find a note he was satisfied with.

His fluffy brown hair bounces everywhere as he talks, glasses dropping a little too low on the bridge of his nose as he hasn’t raised his head from the instrument since you came in, half an hour ago.

“I’ve had this melody stuck in my head since yesterday but I can’t seem to get it out.” He hums, in hopes you might recognize it or help him somehow. He’s out of luck because truth be told, you stopped listening ten minutes ago.

You loved his creativity and passion but sometimes, like right now, you just needed his love and affection and Jisung has been too busy to notice.

“How about a snack?” You ask, standing up to which your joints thank you joyfully.

Jisung mumbles a quick ‘yes’, granting you his attention for a split second before he’s back to his guitar, hunched over in concentration.

The house is empty except for you two, with Jisung’s roommate, Minho, away on a family trip. You’d never thought you’d miss his loud and over the top laughter but now, when your boyfriend was barely paying you any attention, its absence pains you. You never realized how lively Minho kept things around here – you need to show your appreciation when he returns.

You linger longer than necessary in the kitchen, preparing snacks and drinks for the both of you before shuffling back to Jisung’s room, thankful the door was left ajar with how full your hands have gotten.

The moment you step inside, Jisung’s head snaps up with the most endearing smile stretched across his face, glasses a little bit crooked. “Baby! I got it! Hear me out, please!”

His happiness lights up the room in such a way that almost blinds you, his smile contagious and making it hard to resist the urge to smother him with your love. Jisung has never given you a warning, for if you got one, you might’ve prepared yourself better before falling head over heels in love with him. Though, you can never prepare for these things. Love sneaks up on you the moment it finds an opening, when your guard is down and the last thing you expect is being hit by cupid’s arrow, right in the heart.

Looking back, you don’t think you ever stood a chance. You were doomed from the start, when Han Jisung walked in the room you were in, a few years ago, laughing loudly with the previously mentioned roommate. Your heart has been his ever since, the sound reeling it in and never releasing it.

He’s babbling on, excited, as you set the plates down on his dresses, making your way towards him with a newfound purpose. When you lean down to get his attention, he tilts his head up with a dazzling smile, still talking and oh so unsuspecting of your next move.

Without warning, you peck his lips, causing the words to die on his tongue as he freezes, reflexively kissing back the second time your lips meet even if his brain hasn’t caught up yet.

“Sorry,” you whisper against his lips, his mouth agape in surprise as you stare right into his hazy eyes, “you looked too adorable, I couldn’t help myself.”

The loud sound of the guitar tumbling out of his grasp startles you, and you look down in concern while Jisung doesn’t even seem to notice, too enthralled to care. Your kisses always had that effect on him, and he’s sure they’ll continue to do so no matter how many years pass. You had him wrapped around your little finger after all, the victim of the spell your love cast on him the moment he set eyes on you.

“Ji?” You shake his shoulder lightly before crouching down to return his guitar. “The song, baby?”

“What song?” Is the first thing he manages to let out, clearing his throat as he finally comes to.

You giggle, and that’s all it takes Jisung to set the guitar aside and pull you to him by your waist, cushioning your fall as you collapse onto him before his lips are on yours again, kissing you passionately.

For a moment there, he forgot his own name. How was he supposed to remember whatever song he came up with when you used your evil powers to steal all of his attention? Though, he supposes you can’t steal something that’s always been rightfully yours…

[vividxpages]

‧𓍢ִ໋☕ ׂ 𓈒 ⋆  the boy with the thick jacket and the cute accent *₊˚🍂୧

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 3700

summary: over time, Jace with his books by the window has become your favorite customer at the coffee shop you work at. The two of you quietly pine for each other, but when someone else tries to flirt with you, Jace’s jealousy finally gets him to make a move.

warnings: coffee shop au, meet-cute, pining, really just wholesome fluff, uncomfortable attempt at getting reader’s number (not Jace), first kiss

a/n: just something short and sweet for the cold weather outside! <3  I hope you’ll like it, let me know your thoughts!

⋆.˚🥧⋆.˚

There were many things you liked about working at the little coffee shop down the small alley overgrown with ivy.

The quiet yet busy atmosphere always made you feel welcome, surrounded all day by the smell of fresh coffee and tea, homemade cakes and biscuits and the steady stream of kind and appreciative customers who happened to stumble upon the little shop. The walls were covered with bookshelves and old-worn paperbacks stacked in them and the wooden boards creaked lovingly underneath your feet when you made your way towards guests by their tables.

There were many things that made you love the job, but none of them brought you as much joy as the curly-haired boy in his usual seat by the window, lost in his books and taking hours to finish his order.

The first time he had come in here, he had stumbled in from a sudden rain shower, his jacket dripping on the floor and his cheeks a rosy red as he stepped towards the counter, rubbing his hands together. You had turned around, rather busy in the usual stream of customers in the afternoon after uni ended, and there he was.

Dark lovely eyes, a mouth looking so kissable it made your knees weak and an angel-like face that seemed to be just as awe-struck as you were. You had stared at each other as if you were the only two people in the coffee shop, his glossy brown curls dripping rain while you still held an empty mug in your hand.

Hopelessly hit by cupid’s arrow.

“H-hi, what can I get for you?”

“Hi…”

You had to swallow down a giggle, raising your eyebrow at him. “Hi. What would you like to eat or drink?” You stood ready at the cash register, your eyes wandering to his lips as he opened and closed his mouth once again.

“Umm…yeah, I would like a…I’ll just take something hot please, to go.” The cute stranger tore his eyes away from you and fumbled with his wallet. A pretty blush crept up his neck “Whatever you recommend for me to have.”

My number then, you thought to yourself, but nodded in all seriousness as you tipped something into the screen. “The house’s special it is then, coming right up. What’s your name?”

He smiled at you then, nearly blinding you with it. “I’m Jace.”

Jace.

In your chest, little butterflies took flight.

As your colleague took over the line behind Jace, you got to work, giving some extra love into his coffee order as you drizzled some final touches of the good caramel on top and finally pressed a lid to the cup. The whole time, you could feel the boy’s eyes on you, not leaving you out of sight for once as he admired you.

Usually, you called out people’s names for their orders, but it wasn’t particularly full today and you could not deny that you had asked him out of curiosity. Jace still stood close to your side of the counter as you turned to him with a smile.

“Alright, Jace. House’s autumn special, I hope it’ll warm you up right away.” You told him sincerely and handed him the cup, your fingers brushing briefly and sending small lightning through you as he took it from you.

His eyes shifted to the name tag on your blouse before he paid up, sliding a generous tip into the little piggy bank between you. “I’m sure it’s amazing if you made it. Thank you.” He murmured your name as if he tasted every syllable for the first time in his life and as unexpected as he had come, he was gone and you wanted to melt into a puddle right behind the counter.

Ever since that fateful day, Jace had come back for more than just to-go orders. As the trees outside lost their leaves and the world was painted in red, orange and yellow, he mostly spent his free afternoons in the cozy seat by the window, his papers spread out in front of him on the table.

He was your most frequent customer and over time, you couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to his visits than just the good coffee and the occasional brownie treat he bought, especially when you sometimes caught him gazing at you and ignoring his homework.

By now, you knew what his order would be before he had even fully closed the door behind him or sometimes surprised him with a new little creation of yours in exchange for his honest opinion. (He always loved them.)

You liked the way he talked, a little flustered still but always happy to see you were there and how he always cleared his table so you wouldn’t have to, although it was your job.

You liked the way he could get lost in his books and papers for hours, biting his lip in concentration and absent-mindedly twirling one of his curls around his pointy finger as he took a sip of his warm drink.

You liked to know he was eating and drinking something you made, as if your slowly growing adoration for him could take root in his belly, filling him with warmth from the inside. He made you want to create and bake and become so much more than just his waitress for the rainy afternoons in autumn.

The nature of your timid relationship eventually began to change when he brought you flowers one time. You just had gotten out of the kitchen, a little flour still sticking to your cheek as you were greeted by a big bouquet which he held in front of his face. At your surprised gasp, he slowly lowered it and smiled at you, still blushing as he had on the day of your first meeting.

“I don’t want to hold you up, but the time I spend here is my highlight of the day and...this is for you.” He gingerly handed you the flowers over the counter and you almost walked around it and hugged him, a call from the kitchen stopping you from such impulsive desires.

But after the flowers, you both got a little braver.

You drew little hearts in the foam of his coffee orders and in return, your conversations became longer and longer when you had time in between rush hours. You sometimes recommended him books from the second-hand shelf in the corner and watched fondly when he was absorbed in the story the next day, your chest aching for something more with him outside of your working place.

But Jace seemed to be very polite, almost a little shy if the blush befalling him was any evidence every time you walked up to his table. And while you were desperately pining at this point, you were not brave enough yet to go beyond drawing little hearts on the boy’s coffee… 

One afternoon, you worked quietly behind the counter when a gust of autumn wind rushed into the café and a tall blond woman and two little boys walked in. Jace was sitting by the window, nose buried in a Donna Tartt paperback – he thought you did not notice, but you could feel his eyes on you from time to time – when he suddenly perked up and waved at them.

You watched them silently, nearly spilling milk all over the counter when you didn’t notice the glass for the milkshake was already full to the brim. His mom, you saw the familiarity now, kissed his cheek before he bent down and hugged the kids as they squealed in excitement to see him.

A giddy smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you turned your back towards the shop’s floor and got to work at the coffee machine. With practiced movements, you quickly made two hot chocolates and sprinkled a little cinnamon and chocolate rasps over the creamy foam. You took a deep breath and checked your appearance in the mirror over the big sink, making sure you did not look disheveled from your shift before you made your way over to Jace’s table.

As you got closer, you asked yourself if you were not too impulsive – surely you still had time to turn around? – but just as you were about to lose your bravery, Jace spotted you and his whole face brightened up, the dazzling smile you had grown to adore easing down your nerves.

“Hello.” You smiled shyly into the round and placed the plate in your hands on the table, the two cups steaming and adorned by two bowls of fresh cookies from the counter. “I thought the two gentlemen would like some hot chocolate, maybe? Ma’am, if I can get you anything-“

“Oh, there’s no need for formalities.” She smiled at you, a curious sparkle in her eyes. “I’m Rhaenyra, Jace’s mother. Nice to meet you.”

The little boys, undeniably twins now that you got a closer look at them, eyed you over the rims of their mugs. “Is that her, Jace? The girl you talk about aaall the time?”

“Ooh yes, the pretty girl, aaaall the time…”

Jace and you both froze, his little brother’s words leaving you speechless.

He…talked about you in front of his family? All. The. Time?

Rhaenyra looked between the two of you, noticing the awkward tension in the air and quickly saying: “I’d love to have a coffee with a little milk, thank you, dear.”

Jace still looked at you with wide eyes while his brothers peacefully sipped their chocolates as if they had not just exposed their older brother’s crush right in front of her. You opened and closed your mouth, face burning as you quickly nodded and mumbled: “Coming right up.”

The rest of your shift seemed to pass in a blur, your mind circling around what you had just learned.

Was there really a possibility Jace liked you back? Even his mother had been quick to dissolve the awkward situation and after you had brought her the coffee and Jace seemed to try to catch your eye every now and then, not really concentrating on the conversation at his table.

To get rid of the nervousness coursing through your stomach, you dedicated yourself to the little tarts in front of you, delicately placing small raspberries on the soft dough and decorating the top with small swirls of cream. The end result looked like little clouds and it seemed like your hands weren’t shaking as badly anymore now.

It was starting to get dark outside and there were still twenty minutes until your shift ended. You were the last one behind the counter this evening, only the nice ladies in the kitchen remained with you and most of the customers had left already. You sneaked a look to the window where Jace still sat, alone now again after his family had left, biting his lip and fidgeting as he looked outside into the rain. Would you just move on from this as if nothing happened?

“Hey, could you get me a coffee to go?” A guy you recognized from earlier visits grinned at you, leaning against the counter and a little too much into your personal space.

You nodded politely and grabbed a clean cup from the board behind you.

“And also your number if you’re on it, babe.”

You froze, staring at the cup in your hands. You had never liked this guy, he usually was brash and loud when he came in with his friends and he never left a tip, always demanding and impatient when his order took only a second longer than usual.

You started the coffee machine and looked over your shoulder. “I would rather not, thank you.”

“Aww come on, babe, I’ve been here so often just because you’re pretty, I think I earned it.”

You clenched your fists, the coffee trickling into the cup way too slow for your liking. “There’s nothing to earn, I just work here. And I’m not your babe.”

“Getting bratty now, huh? I think you just wanna-“

“Love, are you ready to go?”

Out of nowhere, Jace had appeared beside the douche, looking between your frozen form and the guy who now raised a confused eyebrow at him. You swallowed thickly, not knowing if you heard correctly. Love?

“Who are you?” The guy asked Jace, ignoring the coffee you now placed in front of him.

“I’m her boyfriend.” Jace said tensely, his dark eyes not leaving him. A warmth rushed through your belly at those words. “Is there a problem here? I don’t like the way you talk to her.”

“Calm down, dude, I didn’t know she had a boyfriend.”

Jace glared at him, his jaw set. “You don’t have to know she has a boyfriend to simply respect her. Get your coffee and go.”

Assured by Jace’s presence now, you calmly turned your attention to the guy and opened your hand. “That’s three-fifty. We’re closing now, so don’t have a seat.”

You watched with quiet satisfaction as he fumbled out a five and let it fall on the counter. You took it from him, smiling sweetly before you glimpsed into the cash register. “Sorry, we’re completely out of change. Bye.”

He grumbled to himself, throwing one last look over his shoulder before he left the café and the last bit of tension left your shoulders. Jace looked at you, scratching the back of his neck, grimacing. “I’m sorry. I knew you could handle it, but the way he talked to you made me so angry…”

You shook your head, smiling timidly. “No, thank you, really. He’s been getting on my nerves before. Maybe he won’t come back now, finally. Although it’s sad this was what it takes for him to leave me alone.”

Jace chuckled nervously. “I couldn’t think of anything else, sorry. And I also apologize for my brothers earlier. I didn’t want you to feel awkward…”

The butterflies in your stomach fluttered hopefully. “They were cute.” You said and searched his gaze. He looked at you the way he had on the very first day, awestruck and hopeful and so, so sweet. You bit your lip, adding quietly: “Did they…say the truth?”

Jace let out a shaky breath. “Yeah…” He told you hoarsely. “I…I’ve been thinking of ways to ask you out, but- I’m a hopeless case, it seems. God, I didn’t want you to find out through my toddler brothers.”

You laughed lightly, relieved to have your hopeful guess confirmed. “Well…my shift is over in about five minutes and I don’t have any plans. Do you want to get something to eat maybe?”

“I’d love that.” He smiled at you brightly and it brightened the room.

You made quick work at the counter as Jace gathered his things and the comfy looking jacket he had been wearing since the start of fall. When you were dressed in your long scarf and elegant coat, the two of you were ready to go.

It almost was weird, to walk and talk with Jace outside of the familiar environment of the café, but the two of you had no problem picking up a conversation, comfortably falling into a discussion about the books you had been reading recently and what he was currently up to at uni.

When you reached the big square of the town, you stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm. “Wait, where are we even going, I did not even ask.” You laughed, surprised how much time had passed already with him by your side.

Jace looked around the street, his dark eyes shimmering with the warm light the street lamp threw down at him. “Umm…there is a great pizza place nearby. They serve really good slices and also sweet mulled wine when it’s cold. We might be lucky tonight.”

“Sounds perfect.” You sighed, your stomach growling at the thought of some good pizza and followed him, barely resisting the urge to lace your fingers together.

The little booth tucked between two shops that were now closed was buzzing with life, the smell of delicious wine and fresh pizza filling the air and making your mouth water. Jace greeted the two men behind the counter and rested a careful hand on your back so you could step beside him and see what sorts they were offering tonight.

“You’re here often?” You chuckled as he nodded shyly.

“I’m not really good at cooking.” He replied. “The quattro formaggi is really, really good. So is the one with the cherry tomatoes and pesto.”

You nodded eagerly and fumbled with your bag, ready to get your wallet out, but Jace shook his head at you. “My treat, okay? You always get me such good pastries and cakes.”

“But Jace, you pay for them as well!”

“Doesn’t matter.” He grinned. “Why don’t you find us a table and I’ll get us some mulled wine and the pizza?”

Soon, Jace returned to you, two paper plates full with steaming hot pizza slices that were joined quickly by the promised mulled wine. The speakers by the booth played some easy music and over you, the sky had gotten dark and the air cool.

At your first bite, you groaned in delight and Jace cocked his eyebrow at you. “Good?”

“So good.” You agreed, eagerly having another one. “We should have this at the café! All the sugar and cinnamon are nice, but this? Thank you for opening the world of spices and vegetables for me.”

You laughed as he tried to break a cheese string between his mouth and the pizza off and the sweet wine only made you giddier to spend time with him. He asked you about your life as you ate and you told him the job at the café helped you to save for a professional training as a commis pâtisserie you wanted to start in spring. Jace listened to you intently, his eyes not leaving yours once.

“You have a little…” He lost the rest of his sentence, reaching out a hand and softly brushing some small crumbs of your pizza away from your cheek. Your heart skipped a beat at his careful touch, holding very still for him. “There, now it’s gone.”

“Thank you.” You said quietly, a little breathless. It had been some time since you had been close to someone like this and since it was Jace, you found yourself wanting to lean closer, to let his touch linger and blossom. “It’s nice, talking to you. I’m glad your brothers visited you today.”

You laughed together, both of you trying to hide your smitten faces as you took a last sip of the warm beverage. The plates between you had become empty and your heart sank a little when it was time to leave.

“Thank you for tonight, I…I like being with you, too. I’ll walk you home, if you’d like.” Jace offered warmly and looked down the road. He buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Will you be at the coffee shop tomorrow?”

You nodded, a warm feeling rushing through you at the thought you’d see him there, now that everything had changed a little. “You might get to have one of my famous chocolate fudge brownies if you’re lucky.”

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow as you began to make your way down the street. “Do only your favorite guests get them?”

“Oh yeah.” You teased, trying to stay serious. “Only the ones who save me from annoying guys and invite me out for pizza afterwards.”

You looked at each other underneath the light of a streetlamp, the two of you the only souls still wandering through the night. Jace stared at you, his plump lips slightly agape. He tucked a lost curl behind his ear underneath the hoodie and said sincerely: “Then I will do my best to hold that spot.”

“It’s already yours, Jace.” You said softly and then you could not hold yourself back anymore. You stepped closer and as the boy you had grown to adore so much exhaled shakingly, you held his face between your hands and kissed him.

Jace let out a surprised huff against you, but immediately melted in your embrace as he gently kissed you back, his hands quickly finding their way out of his pockets again to hold on to your waist. You smiled against his lips and sighed happily, your one hand wandering into the curls in his nape as the other grabbed the front of his hoodie.

You had no idea how much time passed as you kissed without a worry in the world. You welcomed his warm embrace as he held you closer, your arms coming to rest around his shoulders as the kiss deepened, his lips tasting of sweet wine and faintly of the waffles he had at the shop today. Your heart threatened to overflow with giddiness as Jace moaned softly into your mouth, cradling you against his chest and touching your soft hair as you kissed and kissed and kissed…

You didn’t know it yet, but tomorrow, he’d bring you another bouquet of flowers, roses this time and you’d spend your lunch break together and kiss some more.

In the following weeks, you indulged in cozy dates at restaurants Jace knew or simply stayed on his couch all night, cuddling and kissing and eventually falling into bed together…

In the next months, you grew closer and closer and you met his family again – “The pretty girl is back, now Jace can stop pining after you like a poet!” – and Jace supported you as you started your training however he could, which mostly meant he got to try all your little perfect creations and praise you endlessly for them.

One year ahead from now on, you moved into a cozy little apartment together, your home always filled with the love you shared and many, many books and baking goods.

You did not know it yet, but oh, how you were going to find out what it meant to love Jacaerys…

my taglist (open): @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss

[teddybeartoji]

how cute would satoru look while helping you dye your hair:((( he's soooo focused, trying to part your hair perfectly so he can dye it perfectly.

laughing behind your hand, he locks eyes with you through the mirror and your heart stutters just a little. he has the little brush in between his teeth and colorful blotches adorn his skin. his freckles are painted in your new color and you're really matching with him now. he splutters out a what when you keep quiet while just staring at him with hearts in your eyes.

"nothing." you shake your head, dismissing his question with a smile.

he furrows his brows so cutely that you have to surpress the need to tickle him to death. but then his eyes crinkle at the corners and he's grabbing the brush from his lips.

"am i doing good?"

it's a whisper. he's a little scared to fuck it up but he keeps the concern to himself. he's more than a little scared – he's terrified actually. he doesn't even want to imagine the look on your face if he did it wrong. you know he won't though. he's your perfect boy.

"you're doing so, so good."

pink floods his face in an overwhelming wave. he freezes. he looks like a cartoon character, who's just been hit with a cupid's arrow. his heart thumps in his chest, trying to break free from behind his ribs – it longs to be in your hands instead. another laugh tumbles from you, breaking his little love bubble. he watches you tilt your head back through the mirror before letting his eyes fall down to meet your gaze without any restrictions, without any barriers.

you're upside down and you look beautiful. there's hair dye on your forehead and even a smidge on your nose (but he swears that he doesn't know how that got there). he doesn't mind when you rest your head against his lower tummy, staining a few of his happy trail's hair with your color.

matching. matching. matching.

his hands rise to cradle your face and he's so gentle, he's so delicate. the strongest man and his precious beloved. his lips stretch into a loving smile; dimples appear on his flushed cheeks and you reach out to poke at one of them with your finger. skin to skin, you rest against him.

and then he bites your finger, making you squeal in surprise. but he doesn't let you pull away, not even an inch. his hands are steady on your cheeks, holding you to him as he laughs at your big lovesick eyes.

"apologize. right now."

demanding – you look like a cute little kitten in his eyes. "i tell you that you're doing good and this is how you repay me. wow."

he loves it when you roll your eyes at him, he loves it when you fakingly try to bite his head off. he doesn't waste any time in leaning down and pressing his lips to yours in a soft backwards kiss. he can feel the wet hair dye on his skin, he can feel you on his skin. your fingers crawl over the side of his face, over his warm ears and scratch at his prickly undercut. he tastes like bubblegum, almost overbearingly sweet; he tastes like unyielding adoration.

he giggles into your mouth like a schoolboy – you just make him so giddy and so happy and so excited, he can't help it. he pulls away just an inch before pressing another kiss to your lips. and another. and another. he never fails to bring out the most cheerful, the brightest laughs out of you – it's his job after all.

he hovers above your lips and you breathe him in. "am i actually doing okay?"

your eyes are closed and so are his. a sweet moment between lovers – he wants your praise, he wants your blind reassurance and you will give him just that without a second thought.

"you're perfect."

satoru's lips graze against yours one last time before pulling away. he does it just enough to get a good look at you – his sweetheart, his everything. he'd do anything for you and he hopes that you truly know it. he'd let the world burn and he's thinking about doing so while simply dyeing your hair. he's whipped. he's in love.

he presses another kiss on the top of your nose and then another to your forehead, mumbling an i love you inbetween the simple acts of affection. he needs you to feel it, to know it—

— but luckily, the way you're staring up at him tells him that you do and he couldn't be any happier.

[fallingforfelix]

❛❛midas touch❞

큐피드의 화살은 눈이 멀 수도 있지만 항상 마음 속에 그 표시를 찾아냅니다.

cupid's arrow may be blind, but it always finds its mark in the heart.

.° ༘🎀⋆🩰₊˚ෆ

synopsis: kinktober day #1 — hair pulling (trichophilia)

pairing: roomate!felix x fem!reader

content: 18+/explicit (MDNI tyvm), viewer discretion advised, so highly suggestive it’s probably considered smut, college au, second person view, older fem reader, mature and unestablished relationships

warnings: noona kink, colour word system used, profanities and suggestive language, teasing, bruising and consensual pain, bdsm power play and loss of control, mentions of orgasms, age gap, coercion, whiny kink, dom reader and sub lix, hair tugging, begging kink if you squint, mentions of oral sex, pain kink i guess, dry humping, begging, pet names (pretty boy, angel, doll, good boy, love, sweetheart), hickeys

word count: 2.3K (2392)

note: i wanted to commit to the ‘kinktober’ trend, but…four days in and not looking very strong😓😓 i also wanted to post something for channie’s bday yesterday but that didn’t happen either :( the smut scene was supposed to be wayyyy longer but i kept on having unsystematic bursts of motivation and really needed to upload some content. i think tmrw i’ll try to write smth, maybe fake texts or a short story where the reader/felix/another member comes to terms with their kink but nothing smutty actually happens. i might even be able to sneak in a fluffy kinks drabble later tonight but that’s probably just a load of big talk. anyways i hope you guys really do enjoy this🫶

inspired by: rosy by @rosylix, slowly to me by @jilixthinker, and pretty please by @naeviskz

song reference: midas touch by kiss of life

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“lee felix!”

you had entered the dorm, only a few minutes prior to felix’s arrival. and much to your dismay, the sight of an empty cookie jar greeted you, its desolate state an affront to your cravings.

the racket of keys stirred your senses, and the squeak of his high tops along the wooden floor announced his arrival. you called out, your tone laced with disappointment.

the aussie‘s head protruded from

the around the corner. “is something wrong noona?”

your gaze narrowed. “you know exactly what’s wrong, lix. i’ve been craving those cookies all day!”

a sheepish look crept across his face. "oh, uh, about those..." he began, scratching the back of his head.

you sighed heavily. “you owe me.”

“yeah, yeah,” felix drawled as he advanced towards the couch on which you were accommodated.

as he walked over to you, his blonde locks caught your eyes. felix’s hair was styled in two braids that were gently woven from the crown of his head, cascading down either side of his head like two delicate rivers of gold. each braid was tightly woven, with subtle wisps framing his face.

he plopped down beside you, his nonchalance testing your patience. a lecture about the sanctity of shared snacks brewed on your lips, but a mischievous spark intervened. your hand darted out, tugging at one of felix’s braids in protest.

you expected defiance, not a high-pitched whine that fled his lips as he tried extracting his braid from your grasp.

you stared at him, your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected vulnerability, and it took him a moment to cognise what he just did. felix’s face flushed pink, his relatively small hand rose to cover his pink, plump lips, and he breathed in shakily.

for a moment, the dynamics shifted, and perhaps it was a hormonal surge, or some other weird psychological phenomenon, but suddenly you found yourself conquered by a newfound self-assurance.

felix’s eyes met yours, a flicker of euphoria in his gaze, ignoring the unspoken tension that had just become palpable to him too.

“well, well, well,” you smirked, your vision tracing the blush that now dusted felix’s cheeks. “that was quite the intriguing sound you just made, pretty boy. mind if i uh…hear it again?”

felix’s dark eyes clouded with guilt as he hesitated, but you tightened your grip on his braid, the motion eliciting another sharp whine from his lips.

“n-noona. please,” he spoke breathily.

“captivating,” you purred, the fingers on your spare hand tracing the contours of felix’s jawline. “i didn’t realise you could make such…arousing noises, love.”

“you’re enjoying this…aren’t you?” he asked, his voice trembling.

you chuckled, otherwise ignoring his question. “you know, i’ve never thought about this before,” you mused as you continued to hold felix’s braid. “but these braids of yours really suit you.”

felix’s breathing was now noticeably shallower, his chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. he tried to speak, but the words got caught in his throat, replaced by another whimper as you wrenched on his braid, this time even harder than the last.

“please,” he managed to say, his voice a hoarse whisper, “i can’t...i need—“

your smirk widened as you heard the desperation in felix’s voice. you could feel the heat and tension radiating off of him, and it was clearly affecting him just as much as it was affecting you.

“hearing you like this…it does something to me,” you whispered, voice low and husky, cradling his braid.

“please,” he asked again, his voice thick with need. “touch me. i n-need to aah feel you. please.”

your heart was racing now, the sound of felix’s voice and the way he was begging for your touch driving you wild. you wanted nothing more than to give him what he was asking for, but there was a part of you that wanted to tease him just a little more.

“i think i’ve discovered a secret of yours, angel,” you murmured, leaning closer to felix. his ears flushed crimson as he attempted to turn away.

slowly, you reached out to his other braid, toying with it between your fingers before giving it a light pull. felix involuntarily let out a soft whimper, his eyes widening in surprise at the sudden intensity.

your lips curled into a sly smile, relishing the effect you had on him. “it seems like i’ve got a little weak spot, don’t i?”

felix’s voice dripped with smug satisfaction. “oh, you definitely do,” his words laced with a thick, raspy undertone, which, despite your dominant position, left your head reeling.

you released one braid, your fingers drifting up to softly cup felix’s chin, guiding his gaze to meet yours. his eyes were now visibly darker, a mix of shock and arousal, as he struggled to regain composure.

“you have no idea how much it excites me to hear you making these sounds,” you whispered, your thumb tracing the lines of his parted lips. “absolutely intoxicating, lixie.”

“feels like you’re shre—shredding my sanity, noona…” felix gasped.

“oh but look at you doll,” you purred, your eyes roaming all over his flushed face. “all red and flustered, it’s adorable.”

“i am not adorable. i’m supposed to be…to be hot mm. you’re supposed to be c-cumming at my blissedth state,” big talk for someone who was still trying to gather his thoughts, felix’s mind a jumble of sensations. and with each passing second, your words and touches were making him more and more unravelled.

“hot? you’re incandescent, felix, burning me up with every whimper. but let's see who breaks first—your control or my restraint,” you replied.

“i don't know how m-much longerrr i can...ah, fuck,” another drag at felix’s braid, securing a lewd groan from him.

“i could get addicted to these little noises you make,” you continue, your fingers now delicately outlining his jawline. “i’d make you whimper and whine and beg for more.”

“y-you’re already making me. you’re, you’re playing dirty…stop gloating mm,” he spoke, trembling.

“dirty? you have no idea how filthy i can be. and i'm just getting started. unless you want me to stop? or do you want me to push you further?” you grinned like a crescent moon, knowing felix’s resolve was crumbling with each passing moment.

“you’re insane... but i think i’m cra-zier for ngh wanting more,” felix slurred.

your breath hot against his ear, you whispered. “just imagine how you sound when i do…this.”

with a single, swift movement, you tugged harshly on both braids, pulling his back to expose his neck. felix let out a guttural moan, his eyes fluttering shut as the sensations coursed through him.

“oh, god…” felix whined, his body arching, yielding to your touch.

you took your chance. holding your breath, you leaned towards felix’s exposed neck, and you latched your lips onto the upper edge of his collarbone. gently at first, although the sudden contact seemed to have already aroused him judging by the way his body jerked at your touch.

a stifled gasp slipped from between felix’s lips as your tongue darted across his skin, making his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed heavily, fighting the urge to make any more sounds.

“aw don’t get all shy now pretty boy. let noona hear those angelical noises,” you teased, detaching yourself from his skin with a slight drag of teeth.

you licked a strip across the sensitive skin of where you just kissed him. felix did not hesitate this time, eluding a low groan which contrasted from his whines.

you began to suck at a new spot on his neck, closer to where his adam’s apple was, his braids still tightly in your grasp. you could feel the way his pulse was thrumming though his veins under your lips. felix’s hands, which had been laying uselessly at his side, jerked up to grip at your waist as an act of steadying himself.

his grip on your waist was hard, his fingers practically digging into your skin as he struggled to keep himself from trembling. felix’s breathing hitched in his throat as you continued to lavish his sensitive spot with attention, your tongue leaving a wet path in its wake. 

your hand progressed upwards, solidifying itself at the base of felix’s hair, holding as tight as ever. he let out sobs in pain and pleasure.

he started to feel light-headed, tipsy, overwhelmed by the feeling of heat rushing through him, spreading lower throughout his body. felix’s usually rational mind was fogged by the sensation of your hand in his hair, and your mouth on his throat.

he was losing control, and he knew that he couldn't take much more of this.

and neither could you.

you could feel the heat pooling in your stomach, your own desire growing stronger by the second. you couldn’t resist him any longer. the way felix was unraveling under your touch, the sight of him desperate and needy, was too much to handle. you wanted him, you needed him just as badly.

you gave felix a particularly hard suck, pulling his skin in through your teeth. the whine that followed ripped at your core and you almost combusted on the spot. that had to have been the highest moan you had heard from him, from anyone at that. 

you lift your head up, gazing at the boy below you who was losing all coherent thought.

“colour, pretty boy?” you inquired, your lips throbbing from all the sucking.

“green…d-don’t stop. don’t ahh- fucking stop, noona-yah,” he panted, words illiterate.

your spare hand came up to rest upon felix’s right shoulder, rubbing smooth, consoling circles around the area.

you swooped your head again, your warm breath dancing across the skin of his neck for mere seconds before you latched yourself onto his neck, now directly on top of his adams’s apple.

“ooh…ooh f-fuck noona! ye-yes! mm, harder…” the noises he was making were blood curdling, toe curling even.

you swear you just cummed. you gushed with slick, your own body quivering now. the temptation to let go of felix and please yourself seemed like a losing battle.

instead, you relaxed your full weight upon felix’s lap, rocking your hips onto his erection, and oh boy, he was rock hard.

he exhaled another huff, followed by a string of curses and other incoherent words. you lost suction of the hickey you were forming, smiling lowly into his skin. as if it wasn’t already obvious that you had him right where you wanted him, and still pushing him over the edge.

you attacked his adam’s apple for the second time, opening your mouth wider to tease a larger area of his skin. his hips subconsciously bucked upwards into you, earning a sigh on your end. your warm breath on the newly-formed hickey sent felix into complete overdrive.

his hands slipped past the upper edge of your sweatpants, expertly finding the waistband of your panties, pulling the lace into view and rising it up level to your hip line. you winced in pain as felix began fingering your lingerie, occasionally bumping the side of your hip, where he had left bruises from his tight grip earlier on.

the hand that was on felix’s shoulder jerked up to his braids once more. you ran your fingers through the plaits, unravelling them like you unravelled their owner, leaving waves in his milky blonde tousles.

you kissed the spot where you were marking your possession, moving your placement to the underside of his defined jaw, teeth gnashing at his freckled skin. his laboured breathing echoed through the room, a symphony of surrender.

“s’good…oh you’re so g-good noona. what have i…been m-missing out onn?” felix spluttered.

you just yanked his hair in response, his braids now completely unthreaded. every word and every sound he expressed ignited your nerves, set your heart alight. your oxygen was depleting steadily, but you weren’t going to stop and take a breathe. you were going to suck felix’s skin to the death and die a happy woman.

but as that thought was revolving around your brain like an eagle circling it’s prey, felix came to an abrupt halt, releasing your lingerie and letting it hit your skin like rubber ricochetting. he mustered the strength to grip your shoulders, before gently prising you off him. a look of concern came over you, worry concealing the lust in your eyes.

“felix, sweetheart, i’m so sorry…are you hurt? what did i do?“ you voiced, exasperated.

“noo i’m all good…y-you’re all good, noona-yah. oh you’re fucking, fucking phenommmenal, god. i just…i need a favour,” felix tripped over his words.

“of course. anything, felix, you’ve been such a good boy. just tell me what you need. let me take care of you,” you replied.

your expression was filled with concern, worry, and just a hint of lust as your eyes travelled over his body, taking in his red face, messy hair, and heaving chest.

felix’s heart slammed into his rib cage, as his eyes locked with yours. he took a deep breath, feeling the air catch in his throat as he tried to speak.

“n-noona,” he murmured, his cheeks flushed an even darker shade of red. “i need you to…can you let me…?”

your heart skipped as you heard the hitch in his voice, they way it trembled with need and desire. you knew what he wanted, you had made him fall apart under your touch just a moment ago, but you had to hear him say it.

you leaned closer, moving your body against his, letting your breath brush against his ear as you encouraged him.

“tell me, pretty. tell me what you need.”

a full body shiver ran through felix as your breath ghosted over his skin, sending a wave of heat straight to his core. he closed his eyes, drowning in the sensation of your body so close to his, the weight of your words in his ears.

he swallowed hard, his voice quiet and husky again as he finally spoke.

“…can you hold my hair back…whilst i ea-eat you out? please?”

oh. well, you thought that he was going to ask you to suck hickeys onto him further down, on his chest maybe. or he might’ve asked for you to kiss him.

but when your pretty roommate offers to give you head, are you really one to decline it?

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part 2??

©fallingforfelix, 2024 tag if inspired

[mo-aiki]

Yandere Isekai M. Characters x F. Reader

A/N: stalking, obession, implied violence, I don't condone it, I just write it.

One day you had woken up into another world as a daughter of a Count. To learn you were stuck in a book you had read on a off chance. Well, how must you survive when 3 men are coming after you?

YANDERE FIANCE! Is at first, not very into you. As Duke of the North, he is cold and rather frightening at first.

YANDERE FIANCE! Noticed you one day from afar. He had noticed your change of attitude.

YANDERE FIANCE! Was struck with an arrow from cupid one day, when he saw your smile and lovely personality. In the garden of your home, he was told by your father you were there. You seem to have been taking care of the dog he has gifted the family, laughing and smiling. He can't help but feel his heart beat.

YANDERE FIANCE! who now dreams of a life with you in it. How many kids you would have, how you'll spend your married days, and how you'll always spend every waking moment by his side and no longer apart.

YANDERE FIANCE! Can't help but want to see that smile again. He sees you smile rather easily. With a few simple gifts in hand, from your constant rambling, he was able to make you smile and hear your sickeningly sweet voice as you thanked him.

YANDERE FIANCE! Who hates the pest around you. The many men, blind to the fact that you have a fiance right in front of you. Must he threaten them in order for them to be silent?

YANDERE FIANCE! can't seem to get the most annoying of annoying pests away from his sweet flower.

YANDERE CHILDHOOD FRIEND! has spent every summer at your mansion together.

YANDERE CHILDHOOD FRIEND! Who's parents are friends with yours and the reason why you spent your childhood with him.

YANDERE CHILDHOOD FRIEND! hates your fiance for some reason. He would always glare, and you were confused with his actions.

YANDERE CHILDHOOD FRIEND! who somewhat dislikes your new self, because now you welcome everyone, instead of being mean and cold. Now moths keep sticking to you in hopes that your light doesn't go out.

YANDERE CHILDHOOD FRIEND! who makes himself look weak and meak to make you want to protect him. If he looked like a mouse, then you should want to protect him, plus, he was younger than you.

YANDERE CHILDHOOD FRIEND! Who would have killed your fiance by now if it wasn't for his good lineage. It saves his life.

YANDERE CHILDHOOD FRIEND! who can't help but think of a life without these 2 men and just him. To have tea parties together, to always know about each other.

YANDERE CHILDHOOD FRIEND! has the worst anger issues when it comes to you, but is able to mask it in front of you to get on your good side.

YANDERE CHILDHOOD FRIEND! is the weakest of the 3 men, but is contempt with it, but he wants to grow stronger in order to save you from these 2, clearly crazy men.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! who was a war hero and known as a mad dog who works under the Royal Family.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! Fell in love with you, first sight at a ball he was forced to attend. You seemed to have sparkled and shined in the light.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! who followed you outside when you had said you wanted to catch a break. That's when he started to get to know you more.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! Who fell in love with your kindness. He was once a dirty, poor orphan no one paid attention to until his war victory. You treated him as if you didn't pay attention to the reason why he was here. He felt like you knew him personally.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! Who wanted to talk to you more that night, but your fiance, the Duke swooped in and took you back into the palace. He noticed his arm, clinging around your waist, and couldn't help but feel a fire ignite within him.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! Who saw you once again on the street, with your childhood friend. He had wanted you to notice him like he did you. But saw that friend, clearly making sure you don't notice him

YANDERE MALE LEAD! afterwards couldn't find a way to meet you, than to apply for a job for your family as a guard.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! who has now seen you more often. You voice, your laugh and your smile, contagious to him.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! Who couldn't help but fall in love with you. He felt like a moth experiencing a flame for the first time. He can never go back into the darkness.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! Who hates the Duke with a passion. A man with more power than him and more of an influence over you. A man you can gift you many things, unashamedly and get your attention, somewhat romantically.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! who hates the clearly dangerous, childhood friend, who clings onto you like you were his last thing in life.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! Who is the strongest of the 2, considering that he is a war hero and has been through military training.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! who wishes to snap both of their necks, if it wasn't for their noble lineage that would get him in trouble. How could he kill them if he'd get in trouble and might never see you again.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! is noe in the plans to kidnap you and whisk you away, somewhere, far, far, away, where you 2 can finally experience each others love.

Now who will you chose. To live a life of luxury, to live a life of being a protector, or to accept a man's feelings before something bad happens to you?

A/N: this is now going to be my real account so I'm sorry for all of those having to deal with my bs. I still take request and stuff like that so if you want something about them then request away!

[wttcsms]

thinking abt how often tiktok's favorite influencers just get replaced on the daily & also thinking abt a modern retelling of the myth of eros and pysche. thinking about how you're the new fave influencer it girl of the year. you're loved by millions, with so many people looking up to you. you're beautiful and kind and you're living the best life imaginable — on camera, that is. no one knows about your raging insecurities, the way you search for that one negative comment in a sea of thousands of positive ones. you cling to your bubbly, always positive, beautiful inside-and-out persona like a lifeline, and as far as everyone knows, it's 100% authentic. you play the role so well that this former housewife star turned mom-fluencer (who before you was the most influential and beloved influencer) gets a little bit jealous.

the higher you are, the harder you're going to fall. with nearly 9 million followers amassed, a good scandal can ruin your life. she doesn't just want a scandal, though. she wants to destroy you, not just the career you've built up. her son, character, is a tech genius who created the most popular dating app this generation has ever seen. designed to pair you with your "perfect match", the app deserves its name of cupid's arrow. the unique aspect of it? it's a total love is blind concept. the app is designed so that only after a week of consistent communication, only then will users be able to share private details such as numbers or addresses or even photos with each other. a relationship first built on mutual interest and actual conversation!!!!!

anyway, so, she convinces him to have his company reach out to you to do a promotion, offering you a massive check that you can't resist, just to try out the app and make a video on it.

despite your millions of followers, you still feel alone. when offered this sponsorship deal, you take it. not just bc of the money, but because you figure... why not meet your soulmate? maybe it's a sign that true love is only a dm away. you don't know that character is going to be your match. you don't know that he's going to strike up conversation with you and get to know you, and manipulate you into being vulnerable with him. you don't know that the more he talks to you, the more he falls for you, the more he realizes that he can't go through with the original plan, which was to get close enough to you to get dirt on you, and then expose you.

really interested in exploring modern dating here & catfishing but also how we constantly use social media but do we get any real social connections out of it? the idea of falling in love w someone thru a screen isn't anything new, but it's so fun to think about honestly.

[aernx]

⌕ CUPID’S REFLECTION ✶ 종성

○ﾟ˖ synopsis ʚɞ your sole mission was to get your best friend with her long term crush, heeseung. well except that you had to face his guard dog of a best friend, jay (who is actually trying to do the same thing???) along the way.

or in which ˓ 𓏲ִ two enemies form an alliance to get their (awfully dense) best friends together. who knew that the two cupids might end up shooting their arrows at each other in the midst of it all.

LAST WARNING ��are you sure you want to play cupid ? . . .

! ▹ SELECT PAIRINGS — matchmaker! jay x matchmaker! fmr

[ next ] ! SELECT GENRE : enemies to lovers, matchmaker au

FEATURING ˚.𓂅 karina aespa, taehyun txt, han skz, rest of enhypen, brief mentions of other idols WARNINGS ˚.𓂅 profanities/use if harsh language, jay and yn are blind and dumb, angst, denial, misunderstandings, ignore all the timestamps

─── [ ▹ ] ⟢ status. ᶻz ongoing ﹒૪ ﹒ 09/07/23 - tba

[ unselected ] ! NOTES ˖ ࣪⭑ this is a work of fiction purely made up for fun and giggles, the characters here do not reflect w the idol’s irl. hihi guys ur girl aerin is back!! hope you guys enjoy! don’t mind any grammar/spelling mistakes ! also please DO NOT spam like as it will cause me to get shadowbanned.

TAGLIST 📓 open ( send an ask/comment to be added )

ㅤㅤ‎‎PROFILES #1 ❪ milk b4 cereal ❫ . . . #2 ❪ clowneries ❫

chapters. -> loading data . . . playing cupid starts in 3..2..1

ㅤㅤ001. the delusions are getting into you

ㅤㅤ002. i’m sick of your delulus

ㅤㅤ003. damn you & your biceps hyun

ㅤㅤ004. you’ll be the bestman

ㅤㅤ005. i did NOT call her a hoe

ㅤㅤ006. overdressing? what’s that?

ㅤㅤ007. you can bring a friend 🫧

ㅤㅤ008. not a double date 🫧

ㅤㅤ009. almost as if we’re meant to be 🫧

ㅤㅤ010. anything the princess says

ㅤㅤ011. if you say so

ㅤㅤ012. y’all kissed or sum?

more tba . . .

© aernx 2023 / do not steal, copy, translate — hope you enjoy my works! let me know if you have any suggestions ! comment ur thoughts n reblogs n likes wld be appreciated !!

nets ! @hyfenet @enhanet @k-labels

[akesdraws-blog]

I love you, but I know you don't love me back

Version: 🐢TMNT 2012🐢

❀Sometimes the problem is usually that the heart does not want to admit something that the mind knows and screams with all its might.❀

Sometimes we need a little bit of a bittersweet taste, cupid doesn't always shoot his arrows at both of us, sometimes he has some missed shots.

💙 Leonardo 💙

As well as a great leader, Leo is also an incredible gentleman.

But he never expected that such chivalry would cause a greater emotion than just kindness.

He will quickly notice some behaviors that were familiar from things he even did.

• Showing off for him

• The attention

• Overprotection

• Taking his side even if it was wrong

Attitudes like this did not go unnoticed.So don't expect a big stage or a rodeo.

He will be direct and just like a bandage on the skin, he will tear it off in one movement.

“If I'm misunderstanding, I apologize, but otherwise, I'd like to set the record straight, I'm only attracted to one person, and she's an amazing kunoichi, not just in combat, but also in my heart.”

That's right, don't expect anything more.

Make things clear and try not to be so rude.

He still hopes that they can remain friends despite everything.

He will accompany you home, and say goodbye as they always have.

But even if you close the window, he will stay in the shadows, listening to the soft sound of your sobbing.

He will hurt deep in your heart, he knows it, but he also knows it is for the best.

If your heart understands the pain sooner, it will take less time to heal.

~“The rain falls because the clouds can no longer support the weight. Tears fall because the heart can no longer bear the pain.”~

💜 Donatello 💜

Our silly genius is always making a new invention for his brothers and his friends.

After all that's your best way to show that someone cares.

Although it is no secret to anyone that Donnie is in love with April.

However, since what happened with Bigfoot, let's say that he now understands more things quickly.

But just as he doesn't usually reciprocate, he understands what you feel.

He may explain everything while you are helping him with an invention or while you play a video game.

“I... Don't take this the wrong way but... You know how I feel about April... And you know how she feels about me... I just want to say... I feel the same about you, as I do, what April feels for me... It sounds weird, I know, but... I hope you understand."

He doesn't try to be rude, he tries to be nice but he gets quite nervous.

He doesn't want his friendship to go down the drain, so if you don't say anything he might get a little chatty.

If you tell him that she's fine and that you just need a moment alone, he'll give it to you.He knows you have to process it.

He will still send you some message, just to know that everything is okay.

He will understand even if you don't appear in the sewer for a while, he will give you the space you need.

~“Love is not blind. Blind are those who run after those who do not love them.”~

~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~

We arrive with something a little sad, because sometimes we also need a dose of slight sadness. (I apologize in advance for any spelling mistakes) In case you missed it: Mikey/Raph

Tags:

@turtle-babe83. @dilucsflame33. @thelaundrybitch. @scholastic-dragon. @leosgirl82. @tmnt-tychou . @little-bunny-in-space . @happymoonangel. @lazyafgurl. @kikithedreamerwriter. @androidships007.

[kitkat238984]

Stupid Cupid

Summary: Only your dear friend, Dante, would be the one to get so tired of your obliviousness to one another's love that he'd force you both to go on a blind date.

And how do you two return the favour? Well, it's an eye for an eye, right?

Notes: This one's not all that good to be honest.

5426 words.

“Y/N”. 

You glanced up from your phone at the clean-cut man with brown curled hair and a neat goatee sat under his chin. You raised an expecting eyebrow at Dante who leaned his weight on his hands against the table you were sitting at, leaning over and towering over you. 

“Can I help you?” you asked, ending the tense silence. 

“Tyler likes you”.  

Not this again. 

You sighed and went back to scrolling through Instagram. 

“No, he doesn’t”. 

“How would you know that?” 

“I just do”. 

It was his turn to sigh and drop his head, deciding to sit down on the chair opposite you. He knew there was no use in convincing you - he’d tried countless times - yet he still thought that maybe one day you’ll be all like “Oh my god, really? I’m going to give Tyler a biiiiig kiss!” 

At first he made little comments like “stop flirting, you two” whenever you both were laughing at something and simply having fun. 

Then it was the suggestive winks and nudges which were attempts to direct your attention to one another in a more romantic light (which was obviously to no use). 

He once made a remark about how you never date anyone or ever have a boyfriend and you promptly came out saying, “It’s hard to date when I’m head over heels for Tyler”. You’d responded so casually that the Martin brother had almost laughed it off, but he quickly realised what you'd just admitted to. 

Why weren’t you embarrassed? Was it sarcasm? You didn’t acknowledge your response at all, not even a single movement to indicate how you were feeling. 

This all led him to that moment. The moment where he spent every waking hour tormented having to watch the both of you as clueless and ignorant as the other, like children lost at the grocery store looking for your parents. 

“Why don’t you just ask him?” he asked for maybe the fourth or fifth time this week. 

“Nah I’m good”. 

Of course that was your response. Of course you acted like you didn’t care. Of course you wouldn’t be willing to even take a chance, to believe one of her friends, one of Hook’s closest friends. He considered giving up, but for some reason he felt like he was their cupid, the one to shoot the arrow for two of his very good friends. 

“Alright then”, he replied. 

You expected Dante to declare that the end of his attempt to make a fool out of you, however, he still hadn’t left the table and continued to stare at you, almost trying to study you. 

Feeling the eyes piercing into you, you looked up from your phone again, them not having left the screen for the whole encounter. 

“I don’t mean to be rude, but when are you going to stop?” you asked, tired of being asked the same questions religiously. 

“Stop what?” 

“Trying to make me and Tyler a thing”. 

Dante rolled his eyes and shook his head in comprehension. Did you even hear yourself? 

“When you both realise you’re in love with each other”. 

“How many times do I have to tell you? It’ll never happen. He’s not interested”. 

You wanted to enjoy your lunch in peace and apparently that wasn’t going to happen here so you stood up and started collecting your things. He never meant to annoy you; he wanted quite the opposite, trying to make you happy with the person you’d liked for so long, but the frustration from not being able to get through to you was starting to drive him crazy. 

“I give up. I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t with you. You’re impossible!” 

You gaped at the hypocrisy, taking offence. 

It was true. You had a uh… shy liking towards the hooded man who mostly kept to himself, ‘shy liking’ being a major understatement. You were very good friends… that’s all… and that was your problem. You didn’t let it get the better of you hence why you constantly brushed it off whenever Dante brought up the subject. It was easier to ignore the feelings and let everyone live their happy single lives than pine over a stupid boy like some teenage girl. 

“I’m impossible?! Try talking to a guy who’s never shown any interest in you and then have another friend insist that he’s crazy for you”. 

You turned your back to him and walked out of the catering room in an attempt to find a more private space to finish your lunch. 

So that ‘s what the problem was, huh? Hook just wasn’t showing enough interest in you. 

Dante sat there, head in hands, desperately trying to think of his next approach. He knew he should stop pestering you because he didn’t want to damage the friendship you’d made over the years, but he was way too committed to the whole stupid cupid act to give up then. 

He’d have to speak to Hook. 

— 

“Y/N likes you”. 

Similar to how you were before, Tyler was hunched over his manspread legs, staring at his phone, his posture and hoodie being his only recognisable properties as his face was almost completely hidden by his hood. 

“Yeah, right”, he replied, eyes not leaving his phone. He, too, had experienced countless of Dante’s naggings. 

Dante - who was standing directly in front of him - crossed his arms and readjusted his footing, knowing this conversation would be as hopeless as all the others. 

“What makes you think that she doesn’t?” 

“She likes Ethan Page”. 

Wha…? Where the hell did that come from? 

He was quick to respond. “She doesn’t even talk to Ethan Page”. 

“All the women here like Ethan Page”. 

“...alright then”. 

As quickly as the conversation had started, Dante Martin walked away, unable to understand what exactly had just happened. 

Had she ever even spoken to Ethan Page? 

He got to the end of the hall and stopped dead in his tracks, finally realising that Hook had just been trying to cause confusion so he’d leave. Great. Very clever. 

He twisted his head to glance at his friend who was looking back at him, a smirk spread across his face which turned into a snicker as he went back to concentrate on whatever was on his phone. 

This would take a lot more effort than he was currently putting in. If he really wanted his two friends to be happy, he would have to be a lot smarter than simply telling them the truth. Apparently, honesty was not as reliable as it should be. 

— 

You were inside the locker room, doing some quick stretches before your upcoming match, Dante standing a few feet in front of you, but this time not to convince you of Tyler’s feelings, strangely. 

“I’m not going”, you said straight. 

“It’s only a little blind date. My treat. It’ll help you get your mind off Tyler”. 

He knew he was pushing his luck asking you to agree to go on a date with a complete stranger, but it was vital for her to accept for his dastardly plan to go ahead. 

“I don’t need help, but I do need to go to my match”. 

You attempted to pass him but he swooped his body in front of yours at the last second second, preventing you from leaving. You could have sworn this was classed as harassment. 

“Just one date tomorrow. If you’re still not happy after twenty minutes then text me and I’ll call you pretending there’s an emergency so you can leave”. 

You really did not want to go out on a date as there simply wasn’t any time for it in your schedule. Didn’t he know you had a very successful wrestling career to keep up? Perhaps if you had more time to think about it, you would have come to understand that Dante was hiding some sort of trick up his sleeve, however, in a rush to get to your match which was starting in 15 minutes, your brain took in every word at face value. 

“Ugh fine. One date. But I swear, if I turn up and he’s holding a bouquet of red roses and uses the words ‘ladies first’, I’m doing a 180 and sprinting out of there”. 

His lips turned into a victorious smile. “You won’t be disappointed”. 

Now it was Hook’s turn. 

— 

Hook would be easy to convince. Dante knew exactly what would sway him. 

“Heeeyyy how about a date tomorrow night?” 

Hook was taken aback by the question and stared with a shocked look plastered over his face. 

“No no no!” Dante scrounged for a clarification. “Not with me, dude. With a girl I know. It might make you feel better”. 

The questioning look he once gave had now been shaken off. “Fuck that”. 

“Come on, I’m paying for the whole thing. And if you don’t like it I’ll take you to a strip club and pay for everything”. 

Hook considered his options very briefly. A blind date that could potentially turn into love, and if that fails, he gets a chick’s ass to make the ‘heartbreak’ all better. Works either way. 

“When and where?” 

Dante mentally smirked in deviousness and satisfaction. He knew he had won. 

— 

You only had thirty minutes to get yourself ready for your date, so heavy makeup wasn’t exactly an option like it usually would be for going out. You chose to wear a F/C satin mini dress that hugged your waist, kept up with stringed straps that tied on the top of your shoulders. You decided to show yourself off a little and not take the modesty approach you normally take with your baggy hoodies and leggings you wear around backstage. 

Your date would be in for a treat, that was for sure. 

You took a taxi to the restaurant Dante told you to be at and sprayed yourself with perfume a couple of times and made sure you looked presentable before opening the door to the place. You might as well try and make some sort of an effort. 

You knew that you weren’t meant to be excited about this date - and honestly, you weren’t all that much - but you thought about what Dante had told you about trying to get over Hook. Maybe it was time you got yourself out there and date someone because your chances with him weren’t exactly looking good. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N L/N. I’m supposed to be meeting someone”, you told the lady who greeted you. 

“Of course. Someone’s already paying for your dinner tonight, correct?” 

You nod. “Right this way”. 

You weaved around tables of seemingly happy couples (you didn’t know about their personal problems) and past booths of families with rowdy children until you were stopped at one of the tables for two. 

Your eyes travelled from their chest that leaned forward into the table and his elbows resting on the surface, to the ties of their light grey hoodie, one being twiddled with his fingers. Then you saw the sharp, well-defined jawline that had quietly driven you crazy for the past 3 years. Your eyes finally reached his cold ones that peered into your own. 

He must’ve been as surprised as you were. 

You thanked the lady and sat down opposite to Hook, who swiftly scanned your body before it was hidden by the table. With any luck, he’d be able to get a closer look later. He figured it was best if he didn’t mention that he could’ve gone to a strip club, not wanting to put you off, and ultimately preferring the date over anything else. 

“This…” you began. “...is definitely not what I expected”. 

“Can’t say I’m complaining”, Tyler said, glancing at the only part of the dress visible to him which just so happened to be where your breasts were. Coincidence? Could have been, but probably not. 

“Did you know about this?” You ignored the butterflies that flew in your stomach caused by his teasing and leaned into the table slightly as to whisper your question. It wouldn’t have made a difference, of course, as no one around you would have cared why you were here. 

“No. Dante told me to come here for a blind date”. 

Dante, you sneaky prick. 

“He said the same to me!” You avoided the few strange looks that were shot across to you for raising your voice. “So uhh what now?” 

You tried to cover the blush that had risen in your cheeks with a hand, having no knowledge whether it was actually effective or not. 

“Make the most of a free dinner I guess”, Tyler chuckled, making you feel a lot more comfortable about the situation. “You’d better be hungry because we’re going for the most expensive of everything. Let’s bleed him dry”. 

You thought it was hilarious that Hook wanted to take advantage of Dante’s good deed, even if it was plastered in deceit. You wanted to believe he was joking about ordering the most expensive options, but you wouldn’t put it past the man to take the opportunity for the upper hand, and you certainly wouldn’t say no to a good meal. 

“I can get behind that”, you took a look at the menu, immediately spotting your choice of weapon. “I think the seventy dollar steak has my name written all over it”. 

“That’s the spirit”. Your eyes met in sync and you found yourselves unintentionally exchanging smirks. 

“Seriously, though. What steak is that expensive?” 

“Good ones”. 

“It better be”. 

Throughout the night, the two of you - not only having drained your friend’s bank account - had more fun than either ever had before or could ever imagine. You somehow ended up playing footsies under the table and the occasional knee collided with the roof of it, resulting in some snobby couple next to you giving you both disgusted looks, glancing at your legs. They must have thought you were trying to pull off some Fifty Shades Of Grey shit. 

You decided to order a sharing dessert platter which was a lot more romantic and cliche than you’d anticipated, which was bizarre for you because you absolutely despised all of the date cliches. They just made you cringe and they got boring after experiencing the same things time and time again. 

And why was this time different? Because you were with Hook. You were with Tyler. You knew him and you knew he didn’t give a crap about giving you a bunch of flowers or trying to please you by being someone he’s not. All he cared about was that he was happy, you were happy, and you both were having a great time. That’s all you needed. 

After eating one of the chocolate dipped waffle pieces and stopping yourself from moaning in delight at the amazing mouthgasm it gave you, Tyler sent you an amused look. 

“What is it?” you asked, licking the chocolate that dripped onto your fingers because you didn’t bother trying to act classy by using one of the skewers. Elegance was overrated. 

“You have chocolate all around your mouth”. 

You immediately began to lick your lips, imagining how much of a child you must have looked. 

“It’s still everywhere”, he snickered at your frustrated face as you tried to lick it all away. How much chocolate could be on your face anyway? 

You gave up and reached to grab a napkin when Hook’s hand grabbed your wrist so you couldn’t lift it to your mouth. The entire time, practically peering into your soul. 

“What are you doing?” you asked him. 

“What would you do if I licked the rest of the chocolate off so you don’t have to?” 

You felt your heart thump and you felt it might leap out of your chest, the inflamed feeling of the skin contact on your wrist rapidly circulating around your entire body. 

“Didn’t take you to be a guy who’s into food play”. You enjoyed teasing him. He let out yet another low chuckle and released your wrist, you instinctively rubbing the area he was holding, only now realising how tight his grip was and how much you enjoyed it. 

“Here”, he said whilst grabbing the napkin you were originally reaching for and wiping the chocolate you’d missed around your mouth. It was sweet. Cliche but sweet. 

After finishing your meals, you decided to share a taxi to the hotel you were both staying at, and spent the entire five minute journey talking about how blind you both had been. 

“So basically, you’re so cool that I mistook it for you simply not being interested in me?” you asked, finally realising where you’d gone wrong all this time. 

“If that’s how you want to see it. I always knew you had a thing for me”. 

“Oh fuck off”, you laughed off, playfully nudging his arm. “You were as oblivious as I was”. 

“Maybe. But you didn’t make it easy”. 

“I didn’t make it easy? Maybe if you’d looked at me every once in a while then you would’ve seen me looking back”. 

Tyler set a small smile and wrapped an arm around your middle, pulling you closer, his hand fitting perfectly in the crescent of your waist.  

Screw seatbelts, right? 

“It doesn’t matter now”, he told you. “And we can thank Dante for that of all people”. 

You did feel a little guilty for not believing Dante for all the times he told you that Hook was into you, which sounded like you were back in high school and your friends were gossiping about their latest crush that were ‘totally into them’ - except they weren’t. 

“We’re getting revenge on him, right?” you ask. 

“Oh, yeah, baby. No doubt”. 

— 

Dante was thrilled that you hadn’t messaged him to get you out of the date with Hook - not that he thought you would once you’d seen who your blind date was. So when Collision came about, he was ready to tease you both and gloat at how right he’d been all along. 

The first person he crossed paths with was Hook who was sitting on the steps that led to the backstage entrance to the elevated seating. As per usual, he had his earpods in and was snacking on a bag of chips. He’d probably benefit from going outside once in a while. 

He looked to see who had sat next to him, tilting his head upon greeting his friend, Hook’s mind going over the plan you and him had formed at the door of your hotel room before you uh… got to know each other a little more than you already did. 

“So…”, Dante began with a sly grin formed upon his face. “Did you like her?” 

Hook looked away, scrunching his face in the process. “She was alright I guess. A bit awkward. Personally, not my type”. 

Dante’s face dropped, all previous hope completely drained away. 

How? He was fucking in love with her the other day. What the hell happened? 

“But you said you liked her”. 

Hook’s face twisted in confusion. “When did I say that? I’d never even met her”. 

Oh no. Oh shit. This can’t be happening.  

With a long sigh, Dante’s hands covered and rubbed at his face, hoping that what he thought might have happened, didn’t. 

“Please say we’re both talking about Y/N”. 

“Y/N? No. The woman you set me up with. What was her name again? Dalia or Delia or something like that”. 

An frustrated groan left Dante’s throat and he leaned back, ignoring the jabbing feeling in his back from the stairs. 

“I set you up with Y/N, man. What the fuck happened?” He wasn’t shouting, but there was a clear element of bitterness behind his words. 

“I wish it was Y/N. At least then my date wouldn’t have tried to call the cops”. 

Dante didn’t think his face could fall anymore, yet somehow he managed it. He was speechless. As much as he wished he could get up and leave, pretending none of this happened, he needed to know more. 

“Tell me. What. Happened”. 

Hook was unfazed by the irritation in his friend’s voice, and he casually continued eating his chips whilst retelling his version of the night’s events. 

“Well, you see…”, he started, shuffling to make himself more comfortable. “The waitress took me to the table and I was there for like five minutes, man, and she didn’t turn up”. 

Dante rolled his eyes at his impatience but continued to listen to his story. 

“So like I turned around and saw a woman sitting at a table by herself so I must’ve been at the wrong table, and I went over to her, tried my best to be the gentleman I am but she was like… being a bitch”. 

Yeeeaaahhh Dante didn’t believe that for a second. Hook being a gentleman? Some woman being a bitch for no reason? He wasn’t buying it. 

…what did he do to that poor woman? 

“And what exactly did you say to this woman?” 

“Literally all I said was ‘this is awkward’ and she agreed, asked what I was doing and said her husband would be back any minute. Like, I swear she was alone the entire time I was in the restaurant. If she didn’t want to date me, she should’ve just said rather than coming up with some stupid fucking excuse like she didn’t know who I was”. 

There was no way this was actually happening. He wasn’t this stupid… was he? 

Dante wasn’t actually sure on that one. He knew he was a quiet, furtive man who usually kept to himself, and that he was incompetent enough to not realise how infatuated you were with him, but was it really that bad that he would harass a random woman in a crowded restaurant? Probably. 

“Oh and the whole time I was there? No sign of any husband. Fucking lame excuse”. 

Dante rubbed the corners of his eyes hoping he’d wake up from this strange dream he hoped he was having. 

“So you left after that, right?” he asked. 

“Sort of. After I tried to kiss her”. 

The relieved sigh midway through was cut short and Dante thought he might have forgotten how to breathe, but sucked in a breath whilst shaking with anger. 

“Why the hell would you try to kiss her if she said she wasn’t interested?!”

“Her story was bullshit, man! I thought she was playing hard to get but she tried to slap me”. 

“Tried?” 

“Obviously I wasn’t going to take that shit. Bitch was crazy. Where’d you even get her?” 

Dante ignored his question - baffled by the complexity of the situation - and asked one of his own. 

“And you didn’t see anyone there you knew?” 

“Nah, man”. 

“Got it”. 

He now had a new mission - to find you and ask why you’d bailed out on the date. Hook’s story was far too in detail to be made up, and - in hindsight - he should have expected you to not turn up to the restaurant without any warning. 

He didn’t turn back when Hook asked where he was going. He kept walking at his fast pace until he saw you outside the locker rooms, chatting to Anna Jay about God knows what. 

He didn’t care. He didn’t care what you were talking about or even if either of you were talking when he walked right up to you and asked, “Why didn’t you go on the blind date?” 

You shot him a look of shock and confusion causing Anna Jay to leave the both of you alone, much to your dismay. 

“What are you talking about? I did and he didn’t show”. You crossed your arms and leant against the wall behind you, not thrilled at his interruption. 

“That’s not possible because the person I set you up with was there and said that you never showed”. 

“Well then we must have missed each other because I was there for ten minutes and he didn’t come”. 

Dante felt dizzy with the number of times he’d rolled his eyes that day. You and Hook were just as impatient as the other, not bothering to wait a minute longer before declaring the unlikely as fact. 

“What, so you just left after that then? Was that it? You didn’t even call me to tell me he wasn’t there?” 

“Hey, I was going to wait. Ain’t no way was I going to skip out on dinner. I just got… distracted”. 

Dante narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He could tell by the way you bit your lip and averted your eyes that you were hiding something. 

“Distracted how?” he asked, slowly. You struggled to hide the smirk that begged to show on your face. You were relishing in the thought of lying through the skin of your teeth to him. 

“I may or may not have been given a few… suggestive glances from a man a few tables along from mine, and I may or may not have met him in the restroom, and I may or may not have let him do me in front of the mirror… turns out he was married… ” 

This was far worse than what Dante could have imagined, especially after the harassment story he got from Hook before coming here to find you. The both of you were going to get the biggest scolding of your lives and he planned to end the tension between you there and now. 

“You had sex with a married man?” You nodded. “Did his wife not try to find him?” 

“No. We were gone for like twenty minutes and I don’t even think she got up from the table”. 

“But I would’ve thought you of all people wouldn’t stoop to such-” 

Dante’s thoughts stopped him in his tracks and all the pieces of the puzzle very quickly came together. 

The woman with the missing husband. The harassment. The married man with you for a while. It all made sense now. You must have entered the restaurant first, went to the back with the man, then Hook arrived and bothered the woman so she didn’t have an opportunity to look for her husband, and because he was with you, Hook thought she was lying. 

In a twisted way, Dante was satisfied that he managed to solve the mystery like Sherlock Holmes as he now understood where you’d both gone wrong and could empathise slightly with both predicaments. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t utterly infuriated. After all, you were thick as shit and somehow slipped out of each other’s arms once again by some coincidence, but he could work with that now. 

Without another word, Dante grabbed ahold of your wrist and began dragging you through the twists and turns of the backstage area, dodging and weaving through the many people rushing to get things ready before showtime. He was focused on his mission like Tom Cruise. He’d acquire many characters trying to pair the two of you together apparently. 

You, however, could only think back to that mind-melting moment two nights ago when Tyler had grasped the exact wrist being held now. It was nothing like the grip that gave you that tingly feeling throughout your body, but you could still imagine. 

You were pulled into one of the large entry hallways and came to register Dante’s plan when you caught a glimpse of the very person you had just been thinking about sitting on the steps. 

So antisocial. 

You let out a small yelp when flung in the direction of Hook, but you managed to catch yourself on the railing. Hook, now noticing the both of you, sent out sceptical looks before putting his stuff on the step next to him and pushing himself up to stand beside you. 

“Alright”, Dante led, glancing back and forth between you both. “I didn’t think it would come to this, but now we have to talk about how you destroyed some happy couple’s marriage”. 

You expertly acted like you didn’t know what he was talking about just so he could keep going to see how long you’d be able to carry the lie out for. Oh, how pleased you were. 

“I set this blind date up for the two of you and the fact that you by some means ruined a nice relationship instead and not see how smitten you are for one another is beyond my comprehension. You’re both insufferable”. 

“It couldn’t have been that good of a marriage if he was willing to have sex with me”, you chimed in. Why not make it a little worse? 

He continued to rant about his own struggles and how he’s tried to help this entire time but neither of you care blah blah blah. In all honesty, you forgot he was talking a few seconds into his rambling. 

You felt a touch on the small of your back before curling around your waist like it had done in the taxi and you turned your head, making instant eye contact with Tyler who you’d been texting non-stop since that night. You weren’t officially official by any means, but you could tell you were only a few intimate moments away from it finally happening. You did things that night. Beautiful, magical things. 

You reciprocated his affection with your head resting on his shoulder, Dante not having caught on to you as he was too busy pacing back and forth, ranting about how bad he felt for the ‘married couple’ you destroyed. 

“This was worth it”, you whispered close to Tyler’s ear. He didn’t meet your gaze but he did break into a small smile. 

“This was only meant to be a little matchmaking. How could it go so horribly wrong?” Dante finally turned his attention to yours and Hook’s close proximity. “And here I am freaking out because you’ve fucked up and you can’t even keep your hands off each other… oh… you’re messing with me, aren’t you?” 

You gave him a wide smile and nodded, making yourself more comfortable against Hook’s side. 

This time when Dante’s face dropped for the millionth time (it had practically fallen on the floor now), it was in shame, disbelief that he actually fell for your lies. It made no sense. He helped you get together and that’s how you repay him? In that moment, he finally accepted that there was no way he would ever understand the way you both functioned. 

Hook, taking advantage of the stand-still the three of you were in, slipped his arm away from your waist and intimidatingly strutted toward the Top Flight guy, coming almost nose-to-nose with him. You all knew he was joking when he fisted the top of Dante’s hoodie and said in a low grunt, “Next time you try and fuck with me or Y/N, we can take this to the ring. Understood?” 

Oh, that was hot. 

You heard the Brooklyn accent in his threat and it drove you crazy; you were melting at his feet with how flustered you were. 

“Yeah yeah I get it, man. Don’t worry”, he replied, brushing off his hand. “I’m just happy my plan worked”. 

“I’d apologise to you but you did meddle in something that you shouldn’t have”, you told him, pleased you were able to get your own back on him. 

“It was either that or wait for you both to get stupidly drunk to confess”. 

You squinted and shared a similar look with Tyler. “Actually, I would’ve preferred that”. 

Hook nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I probably would’ve been down for that”. 

“Why, though? You know what? It doesn’t matter. I won”. He raised his hands in the air and turned to walk out the door before you could say anything more. 

In the doorway, Dante thought he might try and edge another word in there and give you a smug ‘your welcome’, but when he turned toward where you two were standing he uh… decided otherwise and gave you some privacy instead. 

…

…

…

…you guys were already having a heated make out session. 

He wasn’t exactly about to interrupt that. He got people together, not watch them thrive. 

Strolling through the ins and outs of backstage, Dante felt sort of lost, like his only source of entertainment whilst waiting for a match or an interview was gone. Who would he set up now? 

Then he saw her. 

“Hey, Kris!” he called, receiving a warm smile in return. “How do you feel about a certain Orange?” 

THE END. 

[kiame-sama]

Cupid's Arrow- (Yandere!Rook x Reader)

Warnings; yandere, yandere relationship, yandere temper, yandere rook, stalking, predator/prey dynamic, Rook is canonically 18 so don't come at me sideways, reader is 18+, invasion of privacy, Rook is an absolute creep, gross Rook, obsessive yandere, drugging, non-con cuddling,

~~~~~~~~

Love is blind.

Rook heard this saying many times, but if love is blind, then so too is Cupid. A blind huntsman would need to be quite skilled to be able to take down prey. Still, it seemed Cupid has fired an arrow right through Rook's heart and he couldn't be more thrilled. Beauty came in so many forms it was almost impossible to quantify, but the beauties in Rook's life were beyond what words could do justice.

Rook's favorite way to commemorate those he found beautiful was through a sort of collection. From pictures, to items, to whatever he could get his hands on, Rook needed to collect mementos of such beauty. Luckily for Rook, his most recent quarry was a beautiful ray of sunshine that he loved to stand in the radiance of. From having a genuine heart of gold in a school of poisonous and bitter people, to the pure affection shown towards those his beloved loved, everything they did made his heart skip. Sure, he didn't like when that smile was directed at anyone other than himself, but who would he be to deny such a wonderful person their happiness?

Even now, Rook admired the beauty that was his beloved enraptured within dreams and deep in the bliss of sleep. He couldn't help but take countless photos, trying to get all of your cute expressions in the memory of his phone. More memories for him to print out and place in the photo album he has lovingly crafted for his secret paramour. Sure, you may not realize it now, but Rook knew you would come around to his thinking and eventually accept him and his devout worshipping.

For the time being, Rook would have to satisfy his desires in other ways until that blessed moment you notice your loyal huntsman for the lover he can be. This meant that the vice-housewarden was breaking curfew to appease his ever growing cravings to know more about you. He wanted to know your touch, take in your warm and unique scent, feel how well you fit in his arms. All of it. Rook wanted it all.

Of course, you were trusting despite the hunter that stalked your waking and sleeping hours. When the huntsman came to you late at night and offered you a drink he had made rather 'special' for you, you happily gulped it down with no hesitation. Rook would never forget the way you licked your lips and caught the spare drops as they tried to escape your pink tongue. Of the several morally questionable things Rook had put in your drink, the sleeping potion was the most potent and it didn't take long until he was helping you into bed.

He was lucky he convinced Epel to take Grim for the evening for some studying, leaving you without your typical companion. This meant Rook could get closer to you than he ever had prior and you would be free for him to hold as you slept off the dubious drink.

He was simply glad you didn't question how long it took for him to make this drink for you, that and the fact the ghosts weren't around to witness his depravity. The sleeping potion wasn't all he laced your drink with, and he will certainly remember watching you gulp it down for countless sleepless nights to come. There was no way he would admit to how he almost moaned when you commented on how delicious it was. He would happily make you as many special drinks as you wanted and he certainly looked forward to watching you drink them.

Now he could simply slide into the bed next to you, holding your soft figure against his own. You felt perfect in his arms, laying your head on his bicep and cuddling into his chest for the warmth that rolled off of him. He had happily helped you change into your sleep clothes before discarding his own clothes minus the boxers he wore. Despite how much he wanted to indulge in his most beautiful love and feel the warmth of your bare flesh against his own, he was going to try and restrain himself. After all, the hunt was almost as much fun as the reward.

Your figure was so soft against his chest he almost forgot he was not supposed to stay in your bed with you. You had not technically invited him into your bed and would likely be unhappy if you woke with the hunter next to you. He would have to move himself to the worn couch at the far side of the room before he allowed himself to succumb to sleep. Rook anticipated the ear-full he was going to get from Vil about leaving Pomefiore in the middle of the night, but the experience he was currently having was worth it all. You needn't know the things he willingly sacrificed for you or the way Cupid had pieced through his heart with endless love for you, all he needed was the warmth of your body against his and the ever soft places he could now put his hands.

For now, it was enough for Rook. He was a hunter and he knew how to be patient, after all. Soon he would pierce your heart with a golden arrow the same way Cupid had pierced his- and if you didn't accept his love, it would be quite the literal arrow- so he could finally call you all his own.

[nightswithkookmin]

Posting my top JK covers because I feel it speaks to Jikook's relationship

"when it comes to you"

There's no limit in the sky

That I won't fly for ya

No amount of tears in the eyes

That I won't cry for ya, oh no

With every breath that I take

I want you to share that air with me

There's no promise that I won't keep

I'll climb a mountain, there's none too steep

When it comes to you, there's no crime

Let's take both of our souls, and intertwine

When it comes to you, don't be blind

Watch me speak from my heart💔💔💔💔

When it comes to you, comes to you

Want you to share that

It comes to you

Cupid ain't a lie

Arrow got your name on it, oh yeah

Don't miss out on a love

And regret yourself on it, oh

Open up your mind, clear your head

Ain't gotta wake up to an empty bed

Share my life, it's yours to keep

Now that I give to you all of me, oh

When it comes to you, there's no crime

Let's take both of our souls, and intertwine

When it comes to you, don't be blind

Watch me speak from my heart

When it comes to you, comes to you

Want you to share that

When it comes to you, there's no crime

Let's take both of our souls, and intertwine

When it comes to you, don't be blind

Watch me speak from my heart

When it comes to you, comes to you.

The end.

Crying in ays 😿

Crying in I'm glad I came

Crying in JM is happiest when he is with me

Crying in i flew all the way to be with you twice

Crying in i want you Jimin

Crying in let's do this till we 50

[autisticlancemcclain]

In all the love songs Keith has heard (and he’s heard many, both his Pa and Shiro were big ballad fans), he’s always heard laughter described as angelic.

That’s how it is. Over and over again. When you fall in love with someone, when cupid’s arrow strikes, their laughter will be like musical bells, like windchimes, melodic and beautiful and entrancing, and you will never want to hear anything else.

Lance sounds like a hyena on crack when he laughs.

Keith is obsessed with it.

The love ballads got one half of it right, he supposes. He does shut the fuck up and listen when Lance laughs. It is like the only sound he can hear.

It’s just not…musical.

“Your sighs get any dreamier and he’s going to hear you,” Shiro says idly, colouring his nails with Sharpie.

Keith drops his chin from his hands, turning away from where he was watching Lance laugh with Hunk and Allura and scowling at his asshole brother. “He is not.”

Shiro snickers, not even bothering to look up. Keith wonders if it’s morally acceptable to smack the shit out of someone with only one arm, or if Shiro will call foul and convince everyone that Keith is somehow the asshole here.

“Is so. You’re so besotted that even I’m embarrassed for you, and I usually just laugh when you’re being humiliating.”

Keith decides that the potential reputation tarnishing is worth it.

“Ow!” Shiro cries, clutching his flesh arm with way more drama than necessary. “My arm!” He glances over at the scattered stares he receives, from various uniformed officers, and pitches his voice louder to get more attention. “My only remaining human arm!”

“Keith, stop trying to kill your brother,” Coran admonishes. “He’s sensitive.”

Shiro shoots him the tiniest smirk before returning to his fake pout. Keith’s jaw drops in indignation. “Wh — he antagonized me — it’s not my — Coran!”

Coran only raises his eyebrows. “Is there a problem, Number Three, or shall I get your mother involved?”

Pidge makes an obnoxious oooooooooh sound, wiggling her eyebrows at him, because she and Shiro are the worst, actually, and for good measure Coran is too.

“I hate this family,” Keith mutters, sinking into his seat. “All of you suck.”

“Okay, emo boy,” Shiro says patronizingly.

Unfortunately, Iverson walks in and starts the Atlas briefing before Keith can smack him again. He settles for glaring at his dumbass brother, who sticks his tongue out at him like the toddler he is, and then vows to pay attention to the meeting. He is the black paladin, after all.

He lasts four whole minutes.

It’s not his fault. If anything it’s Iverson’s fault. The meeting is boring as hell, and a quick glance around the meeting table shows that the only person paying attention is the note-taking robot Pidge made, and that doesn’t even count ‘cause it’s a robot. Several senior officers are outright sleeping. The MFE pilots are quietly passing around a game of dots. Hunk has blatantly pulled out an engineering project of his and is working on it in full and total view of Iverson (he still hates the man for what he did to Lance when they were cadets, claiming that since Lance has forgiven him, someone needs to hold a grudge). Pidge and Matt seem to be communicating in Morse code. Allura is directing her mice in some kind of acrobatic performance, and Coran is helping her. Shiro is trying to see how many spitballs he can land on Iverson’s blind side before he notices (he’s riding the line with 34). Lance is staring at Keith.

Lance is staring at Keith?

He startles when he meets Lance’s brown eyes, but Lance only smiles, wiggling his fingers in a little wave. Keith tilts his head in confusion, trying to wordlessly ask Lance why he’s staring, and also manage to keep his rapidly creeping blush under control.

(He likes it when Lance stares at him).

Lance squeezes his eyes shut instead of answering, and a moment later Keith feels a prodding in the back of his mind; a familiar presence, hot and fiery and all-encompassing.

Red.

He lets her in, lets her familiar feeling envelop his mind. She struts primly in his mindscape, nosing at Black as if to say I was here first, so just remember who’s boss.

Black lets her prance around with fond amusement.

Before Keith can ask her why she’s pushed her way through — not that he minds, he’s happy to have her, but she hasn’t felt the need to visit him in a while so he’s curious — he feels another presence almost knock on his subconscious, request access to his mindscape.

Red has…brought someone else?

Can she do that?

Red looks at him flatly, like his doubt is a personal offence. Before she can start admonishing him, the presence pushes again; not urgent, but insistent, almost as if someone is knocking on the door of Keith’s mind and doesn’t want to be ignored.

Beyond curious, Keith lets them in.

The second Keith opens his mental door, it’s like they rush in, flowing in like the white rapids of a river, strong and fast and excited, cool and bubbly. There’s so much of them that it takes Keith a good couple of minutes to conceptualise just who exactly has followed Red into Keith’s mind. The rushing water takes shape into a person; tall, gangly, broad-shoulders with a mop of curly brown hair and bright brown eyes, freckles spotted over their nose and grin wide and sparking.

Keith gapes.

“Lance?!”

“Is everything alright, Kogane?”

Keith blinks open his eyes to find the entire meeting table staring at him, expressions ranging from confused to knowing to outright teasing. He realises all of a sudden that he’s spoken aloud, and not only spoken but called Lance’s name out, loudly, for seemingly no reason, in the middle of a crowded meeting.

His face flames.

“All is well,” he chokes out. “Please carry on.”

Iverson narrows his eyes at him for a moment, but eventually shakes himself and continues. Keith stays bright red for several minutes, staring pointedly down at the table, ignoring the various sniggers he can hear with every ounce of his effort. Unfortunately, some of the teasing laughter is inside his actual literal brain, what the fresh fuck, so it’s a fruitless endeavour.

Are you still freaking out? the Lance inside his head (???) asks.

What in the gall brained fuck is going on, Keith thinks back at it, looking at Real Lance in a decent mix of panic, confusion, and the actual phonetic sound that an exclamation point mixed with a question mark makes in your brain. Real Lance has his eyes closed, brows creased in concentration, and the tiniest of smirks pulling up at his lips.

Close your eyes and meditate, doofus, Mind Lance tells him. I’m using a lot of energy right now so I don’t have the space to try and reign you up here.

Despite the fact that Keith is so confused that a thousand professors could not explain his current situation to him in any way that makes sense, he listens, closing his eyes tightly and visualizing his physical bond with Black, like he does when he flies. It helps him sink into the semi-astral plane of existence, usually so he can meld with his lion and the rest of the team when they’re forming Voltron, but whenever he’s trying to reach his own mindscape, too. He’s still aware of his physical body, he’s not quite projected out of it, but he’s not wholly in it, either. Most of his essence is focused on seeing as his mind sees, without the constraints of the physical plane.

“Took you long enough,” Lance huffs.

“What the fuck,” Keith responds.

He packs quite a lot of questions into that what the fuck, he thinks. Like ‘what the fuck are you doing here’, for starters. Or ‘what the fuck just happened with the water and Red and everything else’, if he wants to be specific. Or, if he really just wants to cover everything, ‘what the fuck is happening’ might just do it.

“Your internal monologue fascinates me,” Lance informs him.

Keith flushes. (Does he flush in his mindscape? Does he have the blood and physical body necessary in order to flush? Or is he just embarrassed, so his perception of himself is blushing because that’s the only way he knows how to conception use the feeling? God, Voltron magic shit is so weird. Keith lowkey misses mapping energies alone in the desert and wondering if he was delusional.)

“Stop hearing my internal monologue,” he orders.

Lance pouts. “You’re no fun. I want to hear all the juicy gossip you think about me because you’re too emotionally stunted to say it.”

Lance is only joking, Keith knows he is. He’s leaned forward slightly, like he always does when he’s teasing, and his smile is close-mouthed, unserious.

But Keith of course panics anyway.

A million snapshots of Lance flash through his mind — Lance laughing, head thrown back, barely holding himself up; Lance dancing around the briefing room at two in the morning as he plans a mission; Lance with his tongue stuck out of his mouth, concentrating hard on tiny knitting needles and tiny little mouse-sweaters; Lance with tears shining in his eyes, glancing at a projection of Earth, long before they finally made it home; Lance dirty and hurt, cradled to his chest as Keith runs him too a pod after Sendak. A thousand moments of Lance when Keith was fondest of him, when just looking at him made the ballads Keith grew up with play in his head.

He hurries to shove the memories in an obscure corner of his head and prays that Lance doesn’t see them.

“Can you actually hear my thoughts,” Keith asks, a little desperately.

Lance waves a dismissive hand. “Nah. I get emotional impressions, but that’s about it. I can’t even see anything in here expect you and Red, basically. And Black. Hi, Black!” He waves excitedly to the lion, who sits regally in the dead centre of Keith’s mindscape. She turns to the red paladin in amusement, nodding her head once. Lance beams.

Keith feels a rush of fondness for him so potent it makes his heart hurt, a little.

“Woah,” Lance says, looking at him a little wide-eyed. “I felt that, Willie Nelson. Holy softie.”

“How and why are you here,” Keith says, blatantly changing the subject and not giving even one single shit about being subtle about it. Lance is looking at him too closely.

Luckily, Lance indulges him, or is too excited about being here in general to resist talking about it.

“Isn’t it so cool?” he gushes. “I’ve been working on it with Red for ages! I figured since we all have that emotional bond with each other and the lions during Voltron, and we keep our lion bonds outside of Voltron, we should be able to communicate with each other outside of Voltron, too. Red wasn’t sure if it was possible but she helped me try, and I figured I’d try with you first because it would be the easiest, since we’re so close and all. And you’re more likely to let me in your head.”

He says it so matter-of-factly. Like it’s obvious that they are so close, and that Keith loves him so much that he wouldn’t mind Lance in his head, not really.

The worst part is that he’s right.

With anyone else, this would feel like an invasion of space. Keith would be defensive immediately, angry even, throwing them right the hell out of his head and yelling at them as he does it.

But with Lance?

He’s a little shocked, sure. And worried, that Lance is going to see all the parts of him that Keith isn’t ready yet to show him; the parts that he doesn’t yet know how to say, how to show. The parts of Keith that soften every time Lance smiles at him, the parts that light up with gleeful competition whenever Lance eggs him on, the parts that chafe and ache but smooth over when Lance sits with him quietly when he’s hurting.

Keith knows that Lance knows that he loves him. He doesn’t exactly hide it. He’s not sure he would, even if he could.

But he’s not ready to tell him. Not yet.

He takes a deep breath. (Or whatever the mindscape equivalent is).

He knows Lance won’t go looking.

“And you decided to pull this telepathy shit in the middle of a random meeting?” Keith teases, allowing some of the worry to slip away.

This is, after all, cool as shit, even if it’s weird.

“It’s not an important meeting!” Lance defends. “It’s boring, and I needed entertainment! Besides, Pidge’s bot will give us all the notes anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah. Slacker. Some right hand man you are.”

Keith spends the rest of the dead-boring meeting teasing and chatting with Lance in his mindscape, which is great because he both gets to mess with Lance, which is always a net positive, because he has the upper hand in his own head, and because he gets to look like he’s paying attention in the meeting and actually be completely checked out.

“Oh, hey, I think the meeting’s ending,” Lance says. “I can hear Iverson winding down a bit.”

“Time to get out of my head then, you squatter?”

Lance rolls his eyes, waving to Red to get her attention. She stalks over, nosing him in the head like a mother cat to her kitten. Lance bats her away. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll head out. But only because I’m not practiced enough at this thing, so if I stay in your head it’ll look like I’m frozen or something. Once I figure out how to look normal and still beam my thoughts into your head, you’re never going to be without me even once in your life.”

Lance is teasing again. Keith can tell. But still, he’s totally helpless to stop what comes out next.

“I’d be okay with that.”

He sounds so besotted he wants to smack himself. But before he can even have the space to be embarrassed, he feels a wave of emotions that aren’t his — Lance’s, from the other end of their connection, a mix of embarrassment and selfish pleasure so thick that Keith can feel it even though they’re in Keith’s mindscape.

His jaw drops.

Lance wants Keith’s undivided attention. He’s preening over it.

“I gotta go,” Lance says hastily. “Uh, meeting ending and everything.”

Before Keith can so much as stop him, he feels the same strange feeling as before, the cool, rushing water of a river, only this time it’s flowing out of of his head rather than into it. Lance has retreated hastily from his mindscape, and Red follows, much slower and much more smug, visibly laughing at her paladin.

When Keith opens his eyes again, Lance is bright red, and won’t meet his eyes.

Keith smiles. Maybe he’s not the only one who’s not quite ready to spill his guts.

———

part two