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sweetflanfiction · 3 days ago

Text

Asymetrical Symphony - Part 20

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11 • Part 12 • Part 13 • Part 14 • Part 15 • Part 16 • Part 17 • Part 18 • Part 19

• ··········· • ············ •

Alena's amused chuckle made you feel a little at ease when she placed her hands on the sheets and pulled them away after adding a mint medical mask on her face.

“So…” She started talking at the same time her gloved hands touched skin, and you took a deep breath. “...you go from wanted criminal to the heir of an up-and-coming minor house. And if that's not enough, you are buddies with the great founders of Hextech, one of whom is a councillor.”

"You forgot that I am also the center of a lot of gossip." You kept your eyes on her hands, almost willing them to keep being human.

"I know!" Her eyes squinted in delight, and she let her hands stay there for a moment. "Rags to riches!"

“What can I say?” You relaxed as the weight, warmth, and feel of her hand became normal against you.

She subtly nodded, her eyes becoming soft and then shifting to a more jovial and casual gaze. Her hands slowly made their way towards the bandages on your wounds.

“Mmm…How about... how's the view from up there?” She joked, and you felt her slowly peel off one of the bandages.

“Heh...Not particularly exciting. A lot of egos and dinner parties." You rolled your eyes, and Alena inspected the wounds, poking at the one she had unbandaged.

You nodded, signaling you were alright, and she kept going.

"I would love to be a fly on the wall." She stopped prodding and looked straight at you, eyes swimming with humor.

"Trust me...It's not that thrilling. You go to one, you go all. After a few of those, even the gossip becomes stale."

"I don't believe that." She pushed a small wheeled tray that one left next to the bedside table and started to clean the wound. You flinched at the sting, and she looked at you.

Alena grabbed a new sterile bandage and glued it in place, moving towards another. It didn't hurt or make your mind jump through the hoops of panic, but it was uncomfortable, mostly because the wounds felt foreign. Like when you'd discover a paper cut that you didn't know you had.

"I've heard the story that I am the illegitimate daughter of my mother about a hundred times. Or that I am only here for her money."

"They tell you that to your face?" She sounded shocked.

"Nah...but they say it to Mel's face, who then tells it to Jayce, who then tells it to Viktor, who then tells it to me." You rolled your eyes. "Sometimes, Jayce just skips the Viktor part and goes straight to me."

"Imagine that... Having the councilors of this great city doing your dirty work." You both laughed at her tone.

“Sky Young.” You looked up at Alena. “Do you know how she is? Viktor told me she was a little shocked with what happened, but nothing more.”

“Miss Young is a little shaken up, yes, but other than that, healthy. The doctors are advising her to stay at home for a couple of days." Alenas restarted her wound inspections, her hands no longer feeling strange to your skin. "I believe that seeing someone get shot by three bolts is not exactly in her job description. She was brought in with you. According to the two hex-heads, she fainted."

Alena started on the last wound and took a deep breath, and you noticed she was looking at the last wound with curiosity and doubt.

"Hex-heads?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The heads of Hextech." She winked at you, and you shook your head.

"Ah! I gotta keep that one for next time."

"I'll be here all night."

“Well, whatever they got in the water over on the top Topside, it got you healing fast." You moved your neck to try and peek at the wounds, Alena moving her hand to let you see. "When they admitted you, you were on the straight and narrow to get a blood transfusion ASAP."

They looked like ugly brown holes in your skin, scabby and slightly angry. The edges were still red, but they looked healthy from where you sat. Your eyes shifted to her questioning.

"They look like they were healing for a week; it's been 2 days. You should start selling whatever they have been giving you to eat or drink." She sounded like she was laughing, but something in her voice told you there was something there, a little ping in her tone that gave it a twang of suspicion. You've heard it in Viktor's accent before; it was unmistakable.

“I felt them go through me.” You lied easily with one hand pointing to the back, and Alena nodded.

"Those are healing just as well, if not faster." There it was, the little hint that there was something she wasn't telling you. "I saw them before you woke up when your knight in a shining cane went to the cafeteria."

She resumes her ministrations, cleaning and redressing the remaining wound. Her fingers were gentle but efficient, not lingering more than needed.

“They look almost cauterized." She poked one harder, and you flinched. "Sorry."

You shook your head, dismissing it, now more interested in what she was thinking than the discomfort. There was a glint in her eyes, and you were the best friend of two scientists; some of their curiosity was bound to rub off on you.

She sighed and redressed the last wound, then she looked at the clock in the room and leaned a hip on your bed.

"Is that one special?" You joked when she took more time on that one than the rest.

"Oh. No... Sorry." She straightened up, and you raised both your eyebrows.

"Oh come on now, don't keep me in suspense here. What's going on?"

Uh-oh.

“Councilor Tallis...Jayce...says it was in did cauterized by the bolt because he was working on some crystals."

“You don’t sound very convinced.” She gave you a one-shoulder shrug very similar to those that Viktor gave when he knew something and he wanted to tell you, but you had to fish it out of him. “Go on…”

“What do you know of magic?” She asked, looking at the last wound and refreshing it with the whitest bandage you’ve ever seen.

“Well, my Babička…Grandmother…Knew someone who had magic. He had come to Zaun when my grandmother was still a child, and he was already very old, and that’s how she knew he had to be magic.”

“That's not a type of medicine you study in nursing school.” You tried to make a joke, quickly hiding your shock at her question.

"Well, you wanted to know." She shrugged and started to clean up the tray, taking off her mask in the process.

"Alright. I don't know much." You lied, flexing your scarred hand under the sheets. "I know fairytales and old stories.”

Alena looked at you, her eyes bright with excitement over telling this story to someone. With every word, her accent became closer and closer to the Zaunite lilt. You noticed her tidying up task became more of an excuse to be here than anything else.

“Your grandmother knew someone was a mage because he was old?” You hit the button to bring your bed head upwards slightly, your neck already in pain from craning it up.

“No…Well, yes. Because every time she saw him, he was always old.” She grabbed a small cotton ball and embedded it with alcohol, slowly cleaning anything she could find on that tray. “She would talk to him sometimes, and he never denied he was magic.”

“Did he ask her for money? Because that sounds like a scam to me.” You grinned at her.

“That’s because you are a topsider…” She joked, and you nodded after a while, recognizing the jab as true. “Anyway, he wandered around Zaun for a while carving strange symbols into the stone of certain places in the Undercity. Not just stone. Some people say they saw him write things in the air. Sometimes he would disappear for years at a time and then reappear, carve another symbol, and puff…gone.”

“Sounds like an asshole…leaving your grandmother hanging like that.” You joked, and she snorted, shrugging nonchalantly.

It amused you to no end that her accent became deeper and more pronounced with each word, and at the same time you were apprehensive about the old man.

“Yes, but one time she says she asked him what the symbols were, and he just said ‘kouzelnictví’...magic...”

“He answered that with that exact word? He was a Zaunite?!”

“Well, I’m sure Zaun is not the only place in Runeterra with that tongue. Besides, if he is magic, I suppose he can talk in any language, no?"

"Anyway, she asked him what the last symbol he had carved was, and he said 'oheň'...fire.” She became more excited, leaving the tools on the tray and starting to talk with her hands. “And my grandmother got scared. Most of Zaun at the time was very flammable. But he told her that fire is not always bad. It is what people in a snowstorm desire the most, the warmth of a fire. It could destroy but also be used to weld and create beautiful, perfect things.”

“...Fire heals more than it destroys.” She said with finality and showed you the skin on her wrist. "Grandmother opened an apothecary not long after, and after that everyone in the family became a healer."

You frowned, pensive, your eyes unfocusing on her for a moment.

The ceiling in red tones, the soft boiling sound, the black cracks, the burning sensation in your abdomen. All fire-related.

Your eyes focused on her exposed wrist and widened, a single breath caught in your throat.

Tattooed on her wrist was a familiar shape. In bright reds and oranges was a mirrored and smaller version of the rune that had appeared on the ceiling of the lab. You wanted to touch it but were afraid you would unwillingly speak it, making it jump out of her skin and do something.

“And how can you heal someone with fire?” Alena turned her sleeve back down, and you looked at her, eyes still wide. “Cauterizing. You can stop something as dangerous as a lost limb by burning the stump. Your body temperature flares up to fight infections.”

For a second you just blinked at her, your mind reeling at the thought of this old mage going around Zaun drawing runes.

"You think I was healed by magic?" You managed to splurt out in your state of astonishment.

"I don't know, but... I saw the wounds when you arrived; they were burned on the edges, and then the healing process? It's too quick to be natural." She came closer to you and whispered. "If you ask me, they were doing something with magic... real magic! The ancient kind, not their usual kind."

"A twelve-sided—"

"What other runes... did your grandma know?"

"Oh..." She stopped for a while, her eyes searching for an answer. "She didn't mention it anymore, but as she got older, she got obsessed with dodecahedrons, and when we asked her about it, she always talked about the old man."

Your face dropped when a memory of a blackboard with twelve bullet points on it flashed into your brain.

You laughed as naturally as you could, and she grinned back at you. The casual conversation was interrupted by someone calling Alena on the hospital speaker. You found out then she also didn't have a last name.

"Twelve facets of the arcane." You mumbled, and Alena's eyes narrowed. "The arcane has twelve basic facets, sides...like a dodecahedron..."

"So you do know about magic..."

"I only connected it now. They use it in hextech. Or tried to...I don't know..."

"Oh, spilling secrets now are we?" She joked, but when your face didn't accompany her humor, she paused. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. Sorry." You tried to quickly put yourself together. "Viktor and I were talking about it the other day, and now you talked about it... I was just surprised by the coincidence."

"Oh! Well, maybe I am right and you were healed by it...You call on it, and it answered."

"Duty calls." She patted your knee. "I'll check back on you later. You should rest before visiting hours; I'm sure at least your mother will want to barrel in here."

You laughed softly and nodded.

Alena opened the door and waved back at you, clipboard in hand, and waved at you, completely oblivious to the running thoughts in your head.

“Oh... Wait..." You called when she reached the door. "Do you…Can you tell me where these symbols are?”

“Mmmm. Sorry. I wouldn't know. They probably built over them. If it's even true." She gave you a sad smile.

“Yeah, you're right.”

You hadn't lied to her...not completely. You and Viktor had indeed talked about this. Just not in this dimension.

• ··········· • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw @lucycarlisleswife @noxturnalmoth @ren-ren23 @furblrwurblr @kapitankarate @mynicknameisgasoline @octo-octopie @birbwithhat @kneelarmhstrung @dedicated2viktor @elvishstudies @iamfandomnerd

#arcane #viktor #arcane viktor #viktor x reader #arcane x reader #viktor arcane #viktor arcane x reader #slow burn #viktor x you #viktor x y/n #arcane viktor x reader #viktor league of legends #arcane season 2 #arcane x you #arcane reader

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tonysbed · 2 days ago

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Secrets I keep | Norris!reader

Max Fewtrell x Norris!reader

Lando Norris x sister!reader

Danielriccardo x Norris!reader

summary: You and max have been dancing around your feelings for years but jealousy gets the best of us all..

warnings: none

a/n: I always see fewtrell!reader x lando but what If I want max and not Lando?😔

not proofread

series masterlist | masterlist | next

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, riabish and 729.546 others

yn there’s always a good looking, better, smarter little sister to her older brother. Oh and his best friend

tagged landonorris / maxfewtrell

landonorris don’t get greedy now

user what is he even doing there?😭

riabish wifeeee 😍😍

yn ❤️

user fck lando, I want her

user they’re so bi panic coded

user yn and max in peace? Is war over?

user don’t say that to loud

yn never.

user i warned you.

user oh man 😔

“So you’ll be gone a week?” Lando was leaning against the doorframe as he watched you pack your last few items “Yeah that’s the plan but who knows. Daniel has a habit of keeping people longer than intended” You chuckle and look around the room to check if you packed anything.

Ever since Daniel had been dropped from RB you had missed the aussie. Now there was finally a good time for you to fly to australia and meet up with him. He had always been a good friend of yours and also knew about the whole Max dilemma that took place a few years ago, unbeknownst to Lando.

“Yeah he does. Just be safe okay?” He pushes himself off the frame and takes your luggage “I’ll be fine. It’s not the first time i’m flying somewhere alone, is it now?” You roll your eyes and smile.

“Yeah yeah. Come on.”

Lando parked his car and helped you unload your luggage. He walks with you to your destinated gate and you look at him “I’ll be okay. I’ll text you. And i’m pretty sure daniel is gonna send you plenty of unflattering pictures of me, as always”

Lando breaks a smile and pulls you in for a hug “Have a good flight. Text me when you land and Daniel picked you up, alright?” You nod “Will do, I love you”

“Love you too. Have fun!” He says, waving and smiling.

You see Daniel from afar. His typical smile widened as soon as he saw you “My favourite norris!” He wrapped his arms around you and you hug him tight.

“It’s so boring without you, I swear” You chuckle into his chest. He smiles and pulls away “I bet it is. Let me take your stuff, you must be exhausted after that long flight” Daniel takes your luggage and leads you to his car.

He opened the door for you and puts your stuff in the trunk. You connect your phone to his car once he started it “Lando can put his DJ era to rest, you’re the new DJ” He laughs and so do you “Absolutely! He’ll be living in my shadow now!” You chuckle.

He starts driving and a comfortable silence with quiet music in the background settles and you enjoy the view.

“Dan?” He hummed “Can we get food?” “Absolutely. What do you want?” You think for a moment “You aren’t on a diet anymore, are you?” You smirk and he smirks back “Mcdonald’s?” He smiles “Yes oh my god! I haven’t had that in ages because of Lando!” He laughs “On to the big M!”

*yn added to their story*

[caption: the best after a long flight 💙👀]

replies:

landonorris oh come on!!

yn 😘

landonorris yeah yeah

riabish already miss you

yn miss you more

user who’s that?

franciscagomez : Who is that?👀

yn just daniel 😂

franciscagomez oh! yeah okay. Text me when you’re back, gotta have a girls day😔

yn will do ml

❤️

liked by landonorris, danielriccardo, carmenmundt and 937.168 others

yn personal bag carrier and me for life 🤞💙

*tagged danielriccardo*

danielriccardo I get better pics than your brother, I am honoured 😂

yn he’s ugly, you’re not

danielriccardo 😘😘

user oh?

user danielyn is still thriving yall

user hold on, did she fly all the way to australia for him?!

user seems like it..

user they’ve been friends

user are they?

user yall keep making it weird

landonorris at least you’re spending his money, not mine

yn I have my own money, thank you very much

landonorris and for what did you pay?

yn mcdonald’s…

danielriccardo I had to repay her somehow?

landonorris no wonder she’s so spoiled

yn i’m not??

You both sit down on the edge of the boat and admire the now sinking sun “So how’s it going?” Daniel asked rather quietly “With what?” You lean on the back of the small seating area “Fewtrell” He turns his head, also leaning against the back.

“Can we not talk about him? He’s been getting on my nerves quite often lately” You say, directing your attention back to the sunset “Have you ever told lando what really happened?” His eyes were still fixed on you

“No. What would I say? Oh hey lando, have I told you that your sister and your best friend don’t like each other because he refused to take her virginity and felt like he would go against moral codes so he rejected her in a way that made her self conscious for years and never lose her virginity?” You say, still looking at the sunset.

“Yeah okay maybe- Wait what? You’re still a virgin?” Curiosity bubbled up in Daniel. Your cheeks turned red “Forget that part, I didn’t and wont ever.” Daniel sits up more straight “You..what?!”

“Daniel, let it go. Why is that such a big deal?” You say and look at him. His face full of shock “Yn, you’re one of the most beautiful and kind people. I just.. I thought you may have a boyfriend by now and..”

You shake your head “Nope.” He raised his eyebrows “Oh dear” “I’m not missing out on much here, daniel”

He laughs “If he’s just focused on himself, definitely not. But if it’s someone who takes your pleasure first..” His voice quietens and his eyes drop for a moment “Let’s just enjoy the sunset. I don’t wanna talk about this anymore” You say, still blushing.

He nods and settles back next to you, arm finding its place around your shoulder. You lean your head on his shoulder and a comfortable silence settles over you.

“One last question” You groan and look at him “What now?”

“Did he like you back?” You sigh “Yeah, he just didn’t want to go behind landos back. I can’t be mad about that, they’ve been best friends forever but he could’ve at least let me down easy and not flaunt his new girlfriend in my face at every opportunity”

Daniel nods “He missed out, not you. Lando is just bark no bite” You chuckle “A bit, yeah” You settle back on his shoulder “I missed this” “What? Sunsets?”

“No you, you idiot” He laughed “oh! blame christian for dropping you.” You laugh “I’ll send him a letter to let him know” You laugh and so does he.

“Dumbass” “I know”

liked by danielriccardo, alexandrasaintmleux and 826.647 others

yn australian canvas 🌅

tagged danielriccardo

danielriccardo 🧡🐨

alexandrasaintmleux the dress 😍

yn ❤️❤️

user how long has she been w daniel now??

user 5 days I believe

user the sunset is so pretty

user daniel omggg

“You’ve been awfully quiet” Lando looks at max who just rolls his eyes. Ethan nods “Yeah, what’s going on?” Max looks up at Lando “You do know that Daniel fancies her, right?” Max takes a bite from his food “He doesn’t.” Max raised an eyebrow “You sure? I’d think about how he acts around her.”

Even ethan quietened down, thinking about Max’s words. Lando stared at max, who simply kept eating. Landos phone lit up with a notification from you.

‘Hey lan, I’ll be staying a bit longer with Daniel. Hope you don’t mind, love you and see you soon!’

Lando made a face at his phone before responding. He set his phone down and looks at Max “He wouldn’t..right?” Max looks at him “How am I supposed to know?”

“The bloke it nice! He would be a good fit for your sister,no?” Ethan chimed in. Max glared at him for a second before turning his attention to his food “I mean, better than someone you don’t know at all?”

Lando nods, unsure what to make of the situation. He takes a sip of his drink before looking at Ethan “What if you just ask her?” He said, now picking up his own fork. Lando tapped his fingertips on the table.

“Just ask Lando. Otherwise you’ll be pacing around like a crazy person.” Ethan says, looking at max who completed ignored the conversation “He should just text her, right max?”

Max looks up “Sure. But don’t be surprised if you get a ‘Oh I would never!’ Why would she tell him the truth?” Ethan raised an eyebrow “Mate. I have no idea what your problem is with her, but it’s gotta stop.”

“I don’t have a problem”

“Sure. And lando drives for ferrari” Max rolls his eyes while lando stared at him “I’ll text her.”

Lando sets his phone down and looks at his friends “She says they’re friends.” Max pushed his plate away from him “That’s what everybody says.” Ethan now rolled his eyes “What is it with you and trying to make them seem like a couple? You’re a grumpy little gremlin.”

“I’m not. It’s obvious he likes her.” “Why do you care so much?” “I don’t. It’s just right lando knows, no?” Ethan sighs “I’m sure she’d have her reasons for not telling him”

“I just want her to be honest with me. Have I ever made her feel like she can’t trust me? I just want her to be happy” Lando sighs and sits back in his chair “Even if it’s one of my friends.” Max eyed him for a moment and clenched his jaw.

Before ethan could reply another message came through on Landos phone. Oliver had sent him a link.

f1gossip

289.649 likes

f1gossip Former redbull driver Daniel Riccardo and Lando Norris sister, Yn have been spotted looking rather cosy around australia. Could there be more than a simply friendship between the two?👀

user omg they would kinda be a good fit

user does lando know this?😭

user They’re cute

Lando stares at his phone in disbelief. Have you been lying to him? Since when has this been going on? Why would you lie?

Ethan looks concerned “Lando?” Lando looks up and flips his phone for the other two to see. Max raises his eyebrows and leans back “Told you.”

“She..” He sets his phone down rather defeated. Max clenched his jaw and stared at the window in the restaurant. You wouldn’t go for daniel, right? He had no right to wonder tho. You had moved on. He could still remember the hurt in your eyes when he had brought his ex girlfriend over that day.

The way you visibly shrunk in size. The way you were simply quiet. No one noticed. Except for him. He noticed every little thing. Every mood change. He studied every feature of yours, but he would never admit that.

So he sits there, staring at the window, wondering what could’ve been.

soooo, I really like this.. would anyone want a part 2?

#lando norris #norris!reader #lando norris x sister!reader #max fewtrell imagine #max fewtrell x you #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #formula one imagine

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ros-sauce · 11 hours ago

Text

Oughg my god Speaking of Mizuki Regularly Getting The Trans Flag Glued To Her Forehead. Today I am thinking about Solitus Utopia. Big yap session ahead

In terms of cards, it's probably The bluntest example of aforementioned trans flag forehead gluing; pink, blue, and white take center stage. And ouughhh. OUGHHGH. The placement of those colors is making me absolutely crazy

Her outfit has a similar deal to her first casual outfit. Lot of blue and white happening with the clothes, and then her hair and eyes are the pink needed to complete the set. To me, what that says is "This character is a walking trans flag, and she herself is the pink. The Girl Color. The girl!"

I've always felt that pink being the only one of those three colors to be Attached To Her was significant, but it's only now that I'm realizing that the clothing has significance too... I'm feeling two meanings from it:

It signifies the importance of cute clothing in Mizuki's transition. Being as cutesy as possible and altering her silhouette are some of her main tools in the way of passing as cis. (The former being a source of joy and the latter being a dysphoria alleviator also deserve mentioning!!). Her clothes complete the trans flag that her Girl Color Hair started; her clothes build up the road she took on the journey that her Girl Color Very Being started. ... And on a less positive note, I think there is also some significance to the fact that the trans flag color palette is only all there when something is Applied To Her. Without her outfit, she's just Girl Color. When the outfit is put on her, the Girl Color is made to be a part of something else, The Trans Colors. Your first thought is no longer "That's a girl and she happens to be Girl Color. Neat!", but "That's a trans girl and she happens to be Trans Colors. Neat!". I feel like there are parallels between that and how much she hates being labelled Different. This is crude, but it's how the words want to come out of my mouth. Sorry: Because Society Says So, you don't need to wear clothes at home, but you do in public. Because Society Says So, Mizuki can exist as Just A Girl when she's at home. She can be Just Pink. "Her home" means two things here. Firstly, Literally Her House, with Yuuki "Ally 9000" Akiyama & her supportive-enough-I-guess parents being the only people who she interacts with. To them, she's just a girl, and they're not weird about it. They know she's trans, but they don't act any particular way because of that. Her other home is Nightcord, at least before Niigo started meeting up in person. As Amia, she was assumed to be a cis girl, and there was no risk (in their pre-mainstory days) of Niigo ever finding out otherwise. While being presumed cis isn't quite as close to "Girl With No Modifiers" as living with an unfathomably based family, it still didn't carry the Othering that she's used to accompanying her status as a trans girl. If she wants to exit her home, she has to put on the clothes, has to put on the label that is made when the color palette is completed, and go from "Girl" to "Girl And By The Way Did You Know She's Trans?". And that makes everyone and their mother feel like it's fine to treat her weird. The pitying and resentment that she fears so much at best, and "HEY DID YOU KNOW SHE'S NOT NORMAL? ISN'T THAT WEIRD? AGREE WITH ME NOW OR YOU'RE WEIRD TOO" to anyone who'll listen at worst. With a million billion other forms of othering in between. (Hm. Suddenly I'm thinking about blue's absence from her 3rd anni casual outfit. She's no longer a walking trans flag, and is way pinker than before. Because it's a marketable game with marketable characters, we always had good reason to expect Niigo to be normal about her when the secret came out. But still, I feel like having Even More Girl Color glued to her forehead in Trans Palette's place could be considered some kind of foreshadowing for Niigo being normal... BUT ANYWAY this is not a post about the most incredible pants this world has ever seen, this is a post about Solitus Utopia, so I'll get back to that now.)

With the clothing out of the way, I'd like to move on to the rest of the card. This card is from late 2022, when Mizuki's transness was not quite as obvious ("a few inches away" levels of in-your-face as opposed to the more "you are a school principal at a fundraiser and her transness is a cream pie" level we are at now). This makes me extra ready to take this card as an unspoken "To be clear yes she is a trans girl".

The background walls and furniture are largely blue, and the decor is largely pink and white (and purple. Hi, Niigo!). The former is something that's hard to alter or move or acquire more of, whereas it's pretty easy with the latter. If you have walls or furniture that you hate, you can make it look more palatable by decorating it with things you like, with relative ease. Mizuki did that! The background is covered in all manner of fashion-related pink things, and the pink sewing machine and other supplies carry the implication that she made them herself. They do a great job carrying out their purpose, popping so much in comparison to the blue walls that said walls appear more grey than anything else. And also, you don't really feel like looking at the walls, because all that decor makes them Not Really A Point Of Interest.

To me, that sounds a whole lot like transitioning. There's an unfortunate status that's pretty hard to get rid of, both legally and socially, because Government and People just love to obsess over what you were assigned at birth. But changing the way you appear helps make things more bearable for you, both because you're happier looking a certain way, and because the public is slightly less awful to you when you look a certain way.

Cycling back to the "you focus on the pink things more than anything" point, I feel like the most significant pink thing is Mizuki herself. And I think that is also very nice!! Her pinkness is at the very center of the card. It is the heart of the card! Pink!! Girl color!! Heart!! Mizuki's heart is girl color!! Woah!!

(Obligatory "I do not speak Japanese and I do not live there, so I could be wrong", but I think "I was born with an [insert gender] body, but my heart is [insert other gender]" is a fairly popular way of describing being transgender in Japan? I feel like that phrasing has been losing popularity in English, but I still hear it fairly often in Japanese LGBT+ circles on social media and stuff. If I'm right, then that adds a few more significance points to the Pink Center Of Card thing)

Neat card. I love this pink girl a lot

#On an only somewhat related note.#It was only recently that I realized the jars in the card are rhinestones (or something) and not. Seasonings.#Just had to confess

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marcyvamp1re-blog · 2 days ago

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ৎ୭. . . SORORAL ─── Platonic! Harley Quinn

⊹ ٬ Headcanon. Harley showed up at your door after years, broken by the Joker, and you, with more patience than common sense, took care of her. At the end of the day, no matter the fights or crimes, you were two inseparable souls, always ending up on the couch, reminding each other that sisterly love heals all.

⊹ ٬ Word Count. 2.14k

⊹ ٬ Content. MDNI. Violence, Blood, fights, drugs, toxic relationships, mental health, criminal behavior, past traumas, normalization of the self-destructive component.

「 (Adj.) Like a sister 」

You met Harley in college. The first time you talked was because you shared the same team project… and also a hatred for the same professor. It was all downhill from there. For everyone else, that is. You were at your best.

You were the Watson to her Sherlock, the Robin to her Batman, the salt on the edge of her daisy. Harley talked and you nodded, but not because you were quiet, but because no one had the energy to keep up. You tried to interrupt her once and ended up going on a two-hour monologue about why bats are adorable, all without taking a breath.

You were there for everything. Her first cry over a boyfriend who wasn’t worth it (and whose social media you hacked with brotherly love). Her yelling in the cafeteria about how her parents were the worst dynamic duo ever. Her fights with other students, where you just picked up her stuff and said, “You’re still alive, right? So let’s go.”

You were inseparable. You were her rock and she was your... earthquake. An explosive friendship, literally at one point. But then he came along. The guy with the green hair.

You heard about it on the news. "The Clown Prince of Crime Has a New Partner." At first you didn't believe it. Harley wasn't that kind of girl. But when you saw her picture with her makeup smeared and that crooked smile, you knew. Your Harley was there, buried under tons of chaos.

That day, at the medical center where you worked, you broke a cup. Not because you were being dramatic, but because it was the only way to make the pain feel real.

And then you understood: Harley wasn't anyone's Watson. She was always her own Sherlock, and now she was solving a case that was tearing her apart.

The reunion was a coincidence. Well, coincidence for her. You were leaving work, a long and boring shift, when the sound of a loud laugh made your blood run cold. You saw her leaning against your car, wearing a red leather jacket, torn tights, and a baseball bat that she was spinning between her fingers as if she was deciding whether to use it on you or not.

“Friend!” she shouted, as if it hadn’t been years since you last spoke and as if she wasn’t on the country’s most wanted list.

You didn’t know what to say. Harley threw herself at you before you could react, the smell of gunpowder and something sweet permeating the air. It was as if nothing had changed… but everything had changed.

You tried to pretend it was like before. You chatted for a while, forcing a smile while she talked non-stop, as always. She told you how she had “deconstructed” a bank last week, how Joker had said something “so romantic” that she almost cried, and how Commissioner Gordon “needed to relax, because, hey, a little dynamite never killed anyone… well, not many people.”

The Harley you knew was still there, but she was buried under layers of insane laughter and chaos. Her world was no longer yours.

“Why so quiet?” she asked at last, tilting her head like a curious child.

“Harls… I can’t do this.”

The silence that followed was strange. She looked at you as if you had spoken in another language.

“Oh… that’s why, isn’t it? …Because I’m a “criminal” now.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to.

She smiled, but not in the way you remembered. This smile was broken, crooked, as if she was trying to convince herself that she didn’t care.

—It’s okay, you know. I don’t need everyone to understand me. I have Mr. J. And he understands me better than anyone.

That hurt more than you wanted to admit. But not more than watching her turn around, the bat resting on her shoulder as she walked away, humming a song you didn’t recognize.

Harley didn’t look back again. Not because she didn’t care about you, but because she didn’t have room in her mind for you anymore. She had filled every corner with it, and you knew there was no way to compete with that.

And you, as much as it hurt, didn’t look back either.

Years had passed. A monotonous routine was your life. The medical center, the long hours, the patients who needed an ear more than a prescription. It didn't bother you, not at all. Listening was something you were always good at, and the idea of a partner seemed far away. Between double shifts and sleepless nights, where was there room for romance?

It was a night like any other. Your apartment was silent, except for the sound of the rain hitting the window. You had left a forgotten tea on the table and were about to pick it up when you heard a knock on the door. Not a polite knock, but something desperate, insistent.

When you opened it, you saw her. Soaked, shaking, her makeup running from tears mixed with the rain. Harley. Your Harley.

"He left me," was the first thing she said, her voice broken and trembling.

You didn't know what to do at first. It was like time had gone backwards, but this time you weren’t in college and it wasn’t a fight with some campus jerk. Everything was darker now, more broken. Without saying anything, you let her in.

She plopped down on your couch, clutching a pillow like it was a lifeline. Between sobs and curses, she ranted about Joker. How he’d used her, how he’d betrayed her, how this time it was final.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” she suddenly muttered, looking at you with swollen eyes. “It’s stupid, isn’t it? After everything that happened between us…”

You stayed silent for a moment. You knew she was right. Harley had disappeared from your life without looking back, but now she was there, broken, seeking comfort from the only person who ever truly understood her.

“I didn’t think of anyone else,” she whispered, hugging the pillow tighter. “Because… because you’re my sister, you know?” The one person who was always there, even...when I didn't deserve it.

That was enough to make something inside you melt. You sat next to her, gave her a blanket, and let her talk. Because that was your specialty: listening.

Harley talked until she was speechless. Until her voice faded away and only the sound of the rain remained. You offered no advice or judgment, just your presence. Because you knew that, as much as it hurt, she needed you now more than ever. And, even though time had separated you, there was one thing that had never changed: she was still your Harley. And you, as strange as it seemed, were still her sister.

Harley didn't leave after that night. At first, it was like having a permanent storm in the apartment. One day she'd come home drunk, staggering around and singing off-key songs about what was (or wasn't) worth it in life. Another day she'd show up with a black eye and a cut eyebrow, muttering under her breath that "being the clown's ex isn't exactly a queen's title."

You couldn't say you were surprised. Harley was always a controlled mess… until she wasn't. What you didn't expect was how much that mess would absorb you. You became her nurse, her therapist, her babysitter, and, on the worst days, her bodyguard.

"Why do you put up with me?" she asked you one night, half drunk, with an ice pack in her hand and a split lip that you'd cleaned yourself.

"I don't know, Harls. Maybe because I'm dumb. But someone has to take care of you."

She laughed, that cracked laugh that always made something inside you clench.

You couldn't help but be upset. Because, come on, Harley had gotten herself into this mess. She'd decided to dive headfirst into a world of chaos and crime, knowing full well there was no net to catch her. But it wasn't hate you felt, or even resentment. It was frustration. Harley had always been a big girl, someone who saw the world as an amusement park, ignoring the warnings to "stay off the grass" and "be careful, wet floor."

Sometimes you wanted to yell at her. You wanted her to understand that you couldn't rebuild her every time the world broke her into pieces. But then you remembered who she was. Harley had never needed someone to yell at her. What she needed was someone to show her the mirror, to remind her that beneath all that paint and mess she was still her.

So you took care of her. You cleaned her wounds, you put up with her cries and her unhinged laughter. Because even though it wasn't fair, you knew Harley was learning. Maybe not fast, and maybe in the worst way, but at least she was learning. And if that meant being her anchor in the middle of the storm, then you were willing to hold on a little longer.

One day, everything changed. It wasn’t a dramatic moment, or a revelatory speech. It just happened. You woke up one morning to find Harley in the kitchen, her hair in two uneven pigtails, humming a song as she made pancakes that smelled like they were burning.

“Morning, Doc!” she greeted you like they were in a 1950s sitcom.

It took you a few minutes to realize what was different: she was smiling. Not the broken, I’m-going-to-do-something-illegal-in-less-than-five-minutes smile, but a genuine smile. Harley was Harley again.

Sure, she was still a criminal. She wasn’t going to change overnight, and you didn’t expect her to, either. But now she was a criminal with… what did she call it?

“Scruples!” she said, holding up a half-charred pancake like it was a trophy. “No more punching the bird boy in the face. No more blowing up police stations!” Well, maybe one, but only if it's empty.

You found it hard to believe, but you saw it. Harley was different. She was still chaos, but a contained one. And even though she didn't tell you, you knew some of that change had to do with you.

Then the invitations came.

"Come on, doc! You need to get out of this hole," she'd say, tugging on your arm with the same energy as a tornado. "I'm going to introduce you to the girls."

"Ivy" and "Selina" turned out to be Ivy the Poison Ivy and Selina Kyle, Gotham's famous thief. You spent a surreal night in their company, sitting in a speakeasy where laughter was more dangerous than guns. Selina taught you how to pick a lock with a paper clip, Ivy talked to you about the importance of caring for plants, and Harley was still acting like you were the guest star on her own variety show.

But the height of absurdity came when Harley showed up one Friday night and announced,

“Black Canary is coming to party with us! You know how many people can say that? Nobody, because we’re exclusive.”

The night was legendary. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d laughed so hard or danced with such little sense of the ridiculous. Between Harley trying to do karaoke in a bar where no one had asked for karaoke and Dinah watching her next to you in amusement, you almost forgot that you were with a group of women capable of knocking down a building if they put their minds to it.

Harley looked at you at the end of the night, with a knowing smile.

“See? I told you you were one of us, doc. You can’t escape.”

And deep down, you knew she was right. Harley was still Harley: chaotic, unpredictable, impossible to ignore. But now, she was also someone who was trying to be better, in her own way. And you, without realizing it, had gone from being his anchor to being part of his storm... and it wasn't so bad.

The invitations never stopped. Harley was determined to drag you into every corner of her new life, and she wouldn’t take no for an answer. It was like she was making up for the years she’d missed with you.

Roller Derby was one of the first things she forced you to witness.

“Doc, you have to come. I’m a legend on wheels!” she told you one day as she pulled out a t-shirt with her number printed on the back.

And she wasn’t lying. Harley was a storm on the track, charging at her opponents with a mix of skill and sheer madness. From the stands, you found yourself yelling things like “Don’t break that poor girl’s jaw!” and “That’s got to be a foul, Harley!” But she only responded with laughter, making a victory gesture as a rival player tried to regain her dignity after falling on her back.

“What did you think?” she asked you at the end, with a swollen eye and a half-dented helmet.

“I’ll tell you when my nerves are back on track.”

Burrito mornings became a tradition.

One day she showed up at your door at six in the morning, a greasy bag in one hand and two coffees in the other.

“Burritos and eggs, doc! The best hangovers are cured with food for champions.”

That became a recurring thing. Every week, Harley would wake you up early with the excuse that burritos “taste better at dawn.” You never had the heart to turn her down, though sometimes you silently cursed her when the caffeine wasn’t enough to keep you functional.

Other times, she’d take you on her “normal adventures.”

Like the time she decided you both needed a “spa day.” Her definition of a spa included going to a speakeasy with Ivy and Selina, playing poker with handmade cards, and ending up with nails painted impossible colors.

“Are you relaxing or not?” —Harley asked you while trying to dry your hair with a hairdryer she had clearly stolen from some hotel.

—I don’t know if “relaxed” is the right word…

And then there was her obsession with movies.

One random Tuesday, she burst into your living room with a stack of DVDs.

—Bad movie marathon. Time to educate yourself, doc!

You spent the night watching B-movies while Harley laughed more at your sarcastic comments than at the absurd dialogues in the movies.

—You’re a terrible critic, but I love you anyway —she said while throwing popcorn in your face.

But, of course, Harley wouldn’t be Harley without her chaotic touches.

One day she took you to a costume store because they “needed outfits for friends.” You came out dressed as a pirate clown, while she wore a unicorn costume. They passed through an ice cream shop, a park, and of course, a karaoke bar where she forced the entire bar to sing along to "I Will Survive."

It was exhausting, unpredictable, and honestly, the best few weeks you'd had in years. Because even though Harley was still a whirlwind of madness, there was something different about her. She was more herself. A criminal with a heart, a loyal friend, and someone who, after all this time, finally seemed happy.

And you, even though you never would have imagined it, were happy too.

Always, no matter how chaotic or exhausting the day had been, it all ended the same: the two of you lying on the couch in your apartment, too tired to continue talking but too comfortable to move.

Harley always took the larger end, curled up in a blanket she had declared hers. You settled on the other end, legs dangling because Harley managed to take up more space than she physically could.

At first you tried to watch something on TV, but Harley always ended up changing the channel every five minutes, claiming that “everything is boring.” So, in the end, you just stayed silent, enjoying each other’s company.

That night was no different. Harley was half asleep, her head resting on the arm of the couch and her eyes half-closed. She looked at you, somewhat sleepy, but with that mischievous spark that never seemed to completely go out.

“You know something, doc?” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

“What’s wrong, Harls?”

She paused, as if she was gathering the courage to say it, even though you knew Harley rarely had filters.

“I love you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t the first time Harley had said it, but this time it sounded different. Softer. More sincere.

“I love you too, Harls.”

She smiled, small and genuine, and closed her eyes.

“In the end, we are sisters, aren’t we? We always were. Even if we don’t have the same last name.”

“We always were,” you confirmed, settling into the couch, letting the calm of that moment envelop you.

And so they stayed, Harley breathing calmly beside you, and you wondering how something so chaotic had ended up being the most stable and comforting thing in your life. Because in the end, no matter what happened outside, how much trouble they got into, or how many egg burritos they shared, you would always be her sister, and Harley would always be your Harley.

#x reader #fem reader #dc x reader #dc joker #dc comics #dc universe #dc harley quinn #harley quinn x reader #harley quinn #harleen quinzel

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cas-kingdom · 1 day ago

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“Do you want me to wear a wig?”

A/N: Remember when I said '5 line fanfics'? Yeah.

(Please be kind lol, this is my first fic in a whiiiile).

“Do you want me to wear a wig?”

“No, I don’t want you to wear a wig.”

“What about heels?”

“You don’t wear heels.”

“But Karen does!”

Matt sighed and put a hand to his forehead. “Y/N, you’re not Karen,” he said, his voice sounding exactly how he felt: exhausted. This had been the first evening in longer than he could remember that he wasn’t catapulting himself across Hell’s Kitchen, and yet somehow, his aches and bruises were more prominent now than they had been when he was. He’d taken the day off—not that there was a workplace to take it from—and spent it in his pyjamas, trying not to aggravate his battered body more.

And so, it had not been his idea to stand in his living room at 2 am, feeling like the world had swallowed him and spat him right back out again. Neither had it been his idea to submit to a drama performance orchestrated by his sister. And yet, here he was.

This drama performance was entitled: Practicing Telling Karen That I’m Daredevil. In reality, Matt hadn’t given that much thought past the fact that it needed to happen. It was time. He had told Foggy, and he refused to leave Karen out any longer. But his ideas didn’t quite reach how, or when, or where. He’d figured that in any way, anytime, and anywhere, the result would be the same. There would be disbelief, and there would be accusatory remarks of betrayal and lying, and then quite possibly he would be on the receiving end of a slap. But he was okay with that, because at least it would be done.

You, ever the protector, had not been okay with that. You have to be prepared, you'd told him, nothing ever goes right for us. If you don’t figure this stuff out then she’ll probably find out you’re Daredevil when you’re sitting on the toil—

Well, he didn’t want that. So, he’d agreed. Partly because you weren't exactly wrong… mostly because he knew his sister, and he knew that every hour spent awake with him was one more you could hold onto. This was more for your benefit than it was Karen's.

“For all intents and purposes, yes,” you said, “yes, I am. I am Karen. Come on, into position.”

There was never any winning with you. Let it not be known that Matthew Murdock, fierce attorney at law, alias Daredevil, crime-fighting vigilante, could beat and punch and kick his way out of any situation except ones you had pulled him into.

Practically hearing the call of his bed, Matt picked up the bag with his mask inside. You had suggested he swing in through the window of Murdock and Nelson dressed in the suit.

Never gonna happen.

He turned his face towards you, stood across from him in your dressing gown, wet hair tied back. With a resigned sigh, he took the mask from the bag, and, the words feeling stupid on his lips, as though he was in some sort of cheesy superhero movie: “I’m Daredevil.”

There was silence. A sniff. You narrowed your eyes. Then, you snorted a laugh.

“Ha, ha. That’s hilarious.”

Matt tilted his head. “Is it?”

“Dude—no, wait, Karen wouldn’t say dude—Matt, you’re an awesome lawyer, seriously, but—you?" Incredulity dripped from your tone. "Scaling buildings and backflipping from roof to roof? That’s like… imagining Foggy in a bikini.”

“I’m trying really hard not to be insulted right now.”

“Did you forget you’re blind?”

Matt frowned, his muscles tensing a little. “I am blind. But I’m also Daredevil.”

You rolled your eyes, and Matt couldn’t help but think he should have enrolled you in acting school when you were younger.

“And did I tell you I’m Jesus Christ incarnated?”

Momentarily forgetting the feeling of his silk sheets and a cold pillow beneath his aching head, Matt drew his brows together and his jaw fell slightly open. “Are you making fun of me?”

“If you’re Daredevil, why don’t you prove it?”

“I’m not doing a backflip in the living room.”

You scrunched your nose up. “You’re so boring.”

“Okay. Then where do you think I got his mask from?”

You took a moment, eyes narrowing in suspicion, tongue running across your teeth as you thought. You walked towards him and took the mask from his hands. Matt listened while you moved it about, turning it upside down, hands passing over the horns as you scrutinised every detail.

You stood on your tiptoes to peer at something. Matt was patient. When you were satisfied, you made a disgruntled nose and threw the mask onto the couch. Arms crossed once again you stared determinedly up at him, saying simply: “Stolen."

Your brother rose a brow and mirrored your position, clear he was no longer dealing with Karen Page. “Alright,” he said, “I’ll bite. Why do you reckon that?”

“Too small to fit on your fat head.”

There were about two seconds between Matt tossing his head back and laughing, and grabbing you to toss onto the couch. Quicker than you had time to register it, he was over you, one knee beside you, his hands shooting down to tickle you.

You positively screamed, your brother’s full and legal name exiting your mouth in one shrill shriek.

“You’re a little shit, you know that?” Matt expertly dodged the kick aimed at his chest, wincing as his body reminded him of the stunts he’d pulled over the last few nights. He flopped in the seat beside you, his mask falling to the floor, and grabbed your hand as it aimed for his nose, holding it far enough away from the both of you that you couldn’t touch him.

“Noho! Stop!”

“No, you don’t know that? Damn, I’ve been slacking in my duties as big brother, haven't I?"

“You would—” You squeezed your eyes shut, one foot planted firmly against Matt's thigh, your free hand desperately trying to shove his away—“YOU WOULDN’T DOHO THIS TO KAHAREN!”

Matt scoffed a laugh, then, with an evil chuckle, leaned over you, hands still at work—“Karen knows how not to get on my last nerve,” he growled lowly—and blew a raspberry right under your ear.

He finally backed off at the noise that produced, partly due to sympathy, mostly because you had new neighbours who probably wouldn’t appreciate a 2 am wake-up call. Settling back in his seat with a self-satisfied smirk across his lips, he let you lurch forward and attack him, playfully shoving and kicking at him, until your foot caught a particularly sensitive spot and he recoiled. Instinctively a hand went to his side and the other closed around your ankle, his head dipped a little at the pain that coursed through him.

You recovered quickly. “Sorry!” you said, your breath still coming in short bursts. “Sorry, Matty, I—are you okay?”

Matt nodded slowly. “I’m okay,” he said, then breathed a laugh through his nose. “Not sure why I ever believed I’d get an evening off being beaten up tonight.”

You giggled and lightly smacked his shoulder, managing to wrench your foot free from his hold before he could take advantage of it being in his grasp. You crossed your legs beneath you and leaned back against the pillows as you tapped your phone to check the time.

“You can go to bed now,” you said quietly.

“Huh? Thought all this practicing stuff was necessary.”

He bumped against your shoulder and smiled slightly, picking at a loose thread in the sofa. “It’ll be fine. Whatever happens is gonna happen no matter how you do it, right?”

“I did kinda say that.”

“You can kinda shut up.”

A comforting sort of silence enveloped the room then, one that you were happy to sit with. The bustle of Hell’s Kitchen was still loud outside, but in this apartment, in this room, it was just the two of you. That was how it was supposed to be. That was what you missed.

A gentle snore broke the quietude, and you turned your head to see your brother utterly knocked out. His entire body had fallen limp against the couch and for the first time in so long, he looked almost peaceful.

You stared at him. Subconsciously, your mind counted every visible injury, every patch of discoloured skin, everywhere that could have been the one that killed him.

You reached down to pick up his mask. It felt cold against your skin, a reminder that it had the terrifying ability to upturn your entire life. This one thing.

Your eyes lingered a bit before you tossed the mask across the floor and grasped the throw on the back of the couch. Gently leaning against your brother, careful not to wake or hurt him, you draped it across the both of you and closed your eyes. His slow breathing soothed you and in no time you were lost in your own dreams.

Daredevil Masterpost

send me the first sentence of a fanfic and i’ll write the next five, except i don’t know when to stop writing so i guarantee there’ll be more than five

#this is also not 5 lines #daredevil #daredevil x reader #matt x reader #matt murdock x reader #reader #reader fic #sister reader #sister!reader #mine #5 line fanfic #karen page #matt murdock

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bookloover35 · 2 days ago

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The One With the Teasing- Steve Harrington x fem reader.

It was a quiet summer evening in Hawkins, and Steve Harrington was lounging on the couch in the Wheeler's basement, his feet kicked up on the coffee table. He was trying to enjoy a rare moment of peace after a long day of babysitting the kids, but there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind—one that had been there for weeks.

The feeling had started innocently enough. A fleeting glance here and there. A laugh shared when you said something sarcastic. But now? Now it was something Steve couldn't ignore any longer. And it wasn't just any "something." It was the fact that Steve was beginning to like you. Dustin's older sister, the same age as him, the girl who always had something witty to say and a smile that could brighten his worst days.

He was caught in his thoughts when Dustin, ever the mischievous little brother, popped into the basement. He grinned from ear to ear, clearly up to something.

"Hey, Steve!" Dustin said, crossing his arms with that smug look he always wore when he was about to tease someone. "What's it like, huh?"

Steve glanced up, trying to play it cool. "What's it like? What are you talking about, kid?"

"You know," Dustin said, wiggling his eyebrows, "hanging out with my sister so much. You two are practically inseparable these days. Do you need me to give you guys some space?" He winked.

Steve's face turned beet red. "I—what? Dustin, shut up." He rubbed his face in exasperation, but it didn't help. The teasing was already too much. And it wasn't helping that Steve had caught feelings for you in the first place.

Dustin wasn't about to let up. He leaned in closer, lowering his voice in mock secrecy. "I get it, Steve. I really do. She's cool—I mean, she's my sister and all, but I get why you like her." He leaned back and grinned. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

"You're not funny, Dustin," Steve groaned, but there was a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, Dustin was just messing with him. He wasn't that obvious, right? The teasing was just playful, wasn't it?

But Dustin wasn't done. He crossed his arms again, looking proud of himself. "It's fine, Steve. I mean, who could blame you? She's pretty smart, funny, and definitely way cooler than you. It's probably hard to resist her charm."

Steve shot him a glare. "You really need to stop. Seriously."

The basement door creaked open, and there you were, walking in with a nonchalant expression. "What's going on down here?" you asked, arching an eyebrow at the two of them.

Steve's heart skipped a beat. Dustin's face lit up with a grin, as if the entire world had just become his stage.

"Oh, just talking about how Steve's got a thing for my sister," Dustin said casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

You raised both eyebrows. "Oh really?" you said, crossing your arms as you leaned against the doorframe. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

Steve's eyes widened. "Dustin! You—" But it was too late. You were already walking toward them with that smirk of yours, one that had always left Steve speechless in the past.

"Well," you said, as you took a seat next to Steve, your voice suddenly teasing. "I guess I should know how you feel, huh?"

Steve looked like he was about to combust. He wanted to hide, but somehow, he also couldn't help but enjoy the way you were looking at him—playfully, yet with an undeniable curiosity.

Dustin stood from across the room, looking far too pleased with himself. "Don't worry, Steve. It's all out in the open now. I can't help it. I'm a good brother, making sure you two don't get too shy about everything."

You laughed, clearly enjoying the show, and nudged Steve lightly with your elbow. "So, Steve... was there ever a moment when you thought maybe I was worth not teasing you for?"

Steve, feeling trapped and defeated, sighed. "You guys are impossible."

But then, you smiled at him—softly, warmly. And suddenly, Steve felt like maybe he wasn't as trapped as he thought. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that things weren't as complicated as Dustin made them seem. Maybe there was something real here.

Dustin watched the exchange for a moment, saw the way Steve looked at you, and let out a satisfied sigh. "Well, I guess I'm not needed here anymore. I'll leave you two lovebirds to it."

"Dustin!" Steve groaned as he threw a pillow at him, but it was already too late. Dustin had bolted up the stairs, leaving Steve and you alone.

There was a brief moment of silence. Then, you nudged Steve again, this time more playfully.

"You know, I think you're kind of cute when you're flustered."

Steve opened his mouth to respond, but the words got caught in his throat. He finally just laughed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Dustin is gonna make my life miserable from now on, isn't he?"

You grinned. "Well, as long as you're not going to make it too awkward, I think we'll be fine."

He smiled at you, the weight of the moment settling in. Maybe Dustin wasn't so bad for pushing him to finally say what he couldn't before. And maybe, just maybe, he was going to enjoy this new chapter of his friendship—or something more—with you.

"Well, I'll try not to make it too awkward," Steve said with a grin. "But no promises."

You laughed, and in that moment, everything felt just a little bit less complicated.

And Dustin? Well, he'd won for now. But Steve was starting to think that maybe—just maybe—he didn't mind being the target of a little teasing every once in a while if it meant he got to be around you more.

#wattpad #wattpadstories #wattpad story #my own words #stranger things #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #stranger things steve

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caramelkoo · 2 hours ago

Text

no questions asked— jjk

Jeon jungkook wants nothing more than to get settled with his girlfriend, but what if her fear of commitment makes him take a step back? Will he do it, or will he be able to changer her mind for good?

pairing : Jungkook X reader

genre : established relationship

word count : 6.6k (im begging for forgiveness)

Based on this ask <33

warnings : nsfw, strong language, mature, oc is an anxious girly (same), mentions of emotionally unavailable parents, jungkook is a man of dreams, simp boyfriend jungkook, car sex, unprotected sex (yall know how to be safe) yeah that's pretty much it.

a/n : this took million business days lmao but finally it's here. the sweetest anon requested a drabble but i couldn't do it and as much as i tried to make it shorter, it got stretched to 6k words 😭 so im deeply sorry anon. the rest of you who enjoy longer fics, dig in. I love you guys so much, you might not know this but yall are my besties for resties. kisses. 💌

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Your boyfriend is going to propose to you.

Oh god

Oh. my. God.

Anxiety is not a foreign feeling for you. Although this time, it’s an indescribable sort. Something which is lingering in the deepest pit of your stomach for a lack of better word. Besides, there’s a mayhem inside your head, the voices are loud and intimidating, causing you to bite your lip to a point where they bleed while also staring at nothing.

Jungkook has been nothing but secretive— the poor boy has no idea that you have already seen the navy blue box sitting inside his side of the drawer. You can swear it was totally unintentional.

In your defense, you had been searching for your glasses and that was the only place left to fish around. Nobody could have prepared you for the utter shock when your eyes fell on that box and so for a minute or two you just stood there, horrifyingly still and stunned. However, you recovered quickly, because to be quite honest it was about time one of you mustered up enough courage to ask the question.

It’s supposed to make you thrilled right? So why does something feel… off?

“Penny for your thoughts?”, as soon as Cherry’s voice reaches your ears, you snap out of it and flash her a forced smile.

“Yeah-” you begin, “Yeah uh- I’m just thinking about nothing in particular.”

“_____ you’re an amazing girl but you gotta work on those lying skills.”

A chuckle leaves your mouth. You shouldn’t even have bothered in the first place, the girl can read you like a book.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours huh?”

She picks up the book before scanning it with the barcode scanner all the while you marvel if you should tell her or just let it go, but then you also know how she would become a pain in the ass if you don’t spill the beans to her. Anyway, she can;t make you overthink it any more than you already have.

You bite your lower lip before saying, “I feel like Jungkook is going to propose.”

If looks alone could kill, you would have been buried deep by now with the way the man wearing an olive green cardigan, probably in his 50s, gives you side eye when Cherry drops the book with a loud thud on the counter.

You wince.

“I’m sorry what?”

When you subtly signal her to pick what she’s dropped, she takes a hold of the book, apologizes to the man who— you’re hundred percent sure hates your guts now, and resumes her work.

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Ha! Girl you better start telling me more or none of us are going home today.”

She’s talking to you but her hands keep shuffling between scanning the books and expeditiously typing on the keyboard.

A spark of hesitation finds a way inside your heart. The thing is, you’re not sure. Do you want to marry the love of your life? Absolutely. Do you think you can keep the marriage going and stable? No.

There you said it.

And that kills you because jeopardising your bond and connection with Jungkook is the last thing you want to do.

Maybe, it’s because nobody in your family has been able to keep their inner spark alive after they had gotten married or you might as well blame it on the relationship your own parents have had before your eyes.

For everyone who couldn’t see past the walls of your house, your parents were an ideal couple. A pair who were equally efficient and successful in their respective areas of life. With your father being a renowned businessman and your mother holding the title of a world famous fashion designer, they couldn’t have been a better partner for each other, right?

Wrong. Too bad you had the honor of being an onlooker of their facade slipping away before getting replaced by their real impudent selves.

But that’s all you could do though. You were merely just an audience. Someone who could see everything shatter before her eyes and not do a single thing to put an end to it.

Constant fights, fuming with jealousy over one of them achieving more than the other, sabotaging each other.

All hell broke loose when they began making you take sides.

You think mommy is better don’t you, honey?

You should be proud of your dad, ____. You’re living such a luxurious life thanks to me.

For the love of god you were five. What does a five year old know about luxury or human ego? What could you have possibly known about who is better? In your eyes, they were your mom and dad and not some squish mellows placed side by side from which you had to take your pick. Let’s not even start with the emotional unavailability they provided you with.

A knot lodges in your throat and you struggle to get the words out. “I happen to see the box inside his drawer”

“You’re sure it had a ring inside- Wait, don't answer that”, she shakes her head as if she just asked the most ridiculous question ever.

No shit.

“But that’s a good thing right? I mean you guys have been seeing each other for a while now and marriage is the final stop.” she continues and you can’t help but feel terrible, because she is making sense.

A sigh leaves you, “Yeah no- I mean yeah it is but I didn’t expect him to take the initiative so suddenly. No hints were dropped at all. Marriage is, gosh, I can’t believe I’m saying this but it seems intimidating to me.”

The queue has finally dissipated at this point so she faces you fully showcasing her engrossment in your dilemma. The girl feeds off drama but refuses to get involved in one.

Her expression morphs into something between horrified and sympathetic. “_____, is that because of your parents?”

Your heart skips a beat. This whole time you and only you had authority over this thought that your fear of marriage is deeply rooted in your own parents’ fucked up relationship. A belief that lay sly and unseen.

Only after those words left Cherry’s mouth did you realise how venomous they sound. It makes you aware that the fear was not as concealed as you intended to keep it. What are you supposed to do when you find out that somebody else knows about your deepest terrors? Run? Hide? Or simply not say anything?

Your mouth feels suddenly dry. “What?”

Cherry takes a hold of your palm and rubs it gently, “If it is, I want you to know that it’s not the case for everyone. Marriage is a beautiful concept, a lovely commitment. Are there some pitfalls to it? Yes. But that’s the beauty of it. The way two people come together and resolve them-”

Your phone buzzes inside your pocket causing you to flinch. Releasing your hands from her hold, you take it out and see your grandmother’s number stare up at you.

“I’ll just be back.” you excuse yourself just as a woman places a stack of books on the counter.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

“Hey, beautiful” you greet her, a smile lighting up your entire face.

“My baby, did I catch you at the wrong time?” her voice is like a balm to your heart. So warm and comforting. It reminds you of your movie nights with her where you didn’t have to be anything or pretend. You just had to exist and she made it worth it. Always.

“Now you know even the devil himself can’t stop me from talking to you.”

A loud chortle reaches your ears and you imagine her throwing her head back, laughing.

“I was calling to ask if you and your eye candy of a boyfriend are visiting home this year for thanksgiving, dear?”

Dear lord, you can’t believe you forgot about that.

Your eyes widen, and just when you think you could bubble up some other lie, she speaks up, “You forgot, didn’t you?”

Yeah, bold of you to assume you can do that and get away. You actually need to work on your lying skills. For whatever reason. You want to pluck your eyelashes out one by one because of how gloomy she sounds.

“I’m genuinely sorry, grams.” pinching the bridge of your nose you continue, “I’ve just been busy with work and barely making ends meet. I promise this is the first and last time I let it slip my mind.”

With the job you have, there’s only so much cash you can count and while you would love to make a career out of writing, the thought of publishing your own book sends shivers down your spine.

Every time you open the draft a new mistake pops up, taking a percentage of your self confidence down the drain. You’re only human. A microscopic slip catches your attention and you start questioning your life choices.

“Honey, come home and give yourself some time off, what do you youngsters like to call it? Oh yes, grind. Yeah?”

It’s your turn to laugh. “Wow someone has been too into love island lately.”

Cherry raises her eyebrows from across the room and you mouth her the word ‘grandma’. She nods with a smile on her face, going back to work.

A long stretch of silence hangs in the air before you hear her ask, “_____, what else is wrong?”

The smile which has been adorning your face this whole time instantly drops. You blink.

Once

Twice

Thrice

“I don’t understand.” Liar.

“You know what I mean, baby. I want you to tell me more, because I know something has been bothering you. What is it?”

Humans are so funny sometimes. They can be as close to you as your own soul and not have a hint of your torment. Meanwhile, there is your grandmother, who despite being so far away from you just….. knew. But again, it has always been like this hasn’t it?

Whenever you got tired of your parents throwing stuff around the house, making each other lick the floors, trying to make their own and your life a living hell, she knew.

She was the one who allowed you to cry, and assured you that she would not call you dramatic if she happened to hear your sobs.

You were allowed to cry,

You were allowed to ask for help,

You were allowed to not hold back.

Sucking in a deep breath, you release it, “Everything else is perfect, grams.”

Mr William is always the first person to greet you everyday when you reach the apartment. He’s been working as a guard for years now and you’ve grown quite familiar with him. While being the sweetest man you’ve ever come across, he also brings his wife’s yummiest tarts for you whenever she makes them. Arguably, they deserve more hype than they get.

“She knows how much you love her tarts” he says, making you feel immense gratitude towards his kindness.

This particular night, he seems…. restless. He’s shifting from one foot to another as you shut the cab’s door behind you. Striding over to him, you mentally try your best to figure out his uneasiness.

Clearing your throat, your throat as you ask, “Is everything alright, Mr William?”

Only after he hears your voice, he gains his composure. Or so he tries.

He hands you a piece of paper which feels a bit wet and you wonder what could have been so intense that the man began having clammy palms.

It’s nearly concerning, not to mention it doesn’t help with your own anxiety at all. If not, shoot it up.

“Your boyfriend dropped by around lunch time, miss. He handed me this and asked me to give it to you as soon as you come back from work.”

He couldn’t have given it to you yesterday when he was with you in the first place? Weird.

“I see, but why are you so tense? Has something happened?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “My wife has been sick and I was supposed to leave early but I figured it would be better if I gave it to you safely before going home to her.”

Fuck

“You could have given this to me later. Your wife comes first, sir.” you gulp, “Please, I appreciate your gesture but she needs you more. Thank you so much and please let me know if I can be of help.”

He releases an empty chuckle. “Thank you, Miss”

With one last nod you walk inside the building while also hoping he doesn’t call you for help. Not because you won’t do anything it takes to help him, but because you hope it wouldn’t come to it. The moment you shut the apartment door behind and turn on the light, the piece of paper steals your attention. Without waiting any further, you unfold it, coming across Jungkook’s writing.

The note alone feels like he whispered it into your ear before placing the softest kiss on your skin. Your lips stretch into a serene smile as you stride over to the bedroom, turning the doorknob as your gaze catches a purple bodycon resting on top of your bed. It is accompanied with a bouquet of pink tulips as well as a bar of Dubai chocolate.

Your head that has been nothing short of a commotion is now finally at peace. Not entirely but at peace nonetheless.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Jungkook was 12 when he went on his first roller coaster ride. He was, like every other child, afraid. Afraid that he might fall and hurt himself so bad, he wouldn’t ever be able to get up. The roller coaster had a massive drop followed by a corkscrew which took him upside down. Until the moment Jungkook saw a woman in yellow dress buying a bunch of tulips from the flower shop he very often visited, he had never felt his stomach bottom out as strongly as it did during that drop back then.

There she was, chatting with the florist as if they’re best friends. He could see her behind the glass picking out the pink tulips before sniffing them. Meanwhile, Jungkook stood across the road, soaked and enchanted as he wondered if he should ask for her number or chicken out. Eventually, the latter won.

But here’s the thing, Jungkook is not one for losing. He hates losing, even the term makes him want to peel his own skin off.

He saw her hair first, becoming curly locks reaching down to her waist and just above her hips. Granted that his line of sight only allowed him to see her side profile, he assumed she was gorgeous. It was not unlikely for him to see beautiful women on a daily basis, but something about her just sucked him in. His eyes could not leave her face and he believed even if they tried, he would pluck them out just to punish them. Was it weird that his hands itched to hold a woman he doesn’t even know?

What’s her name?

Where does she live?

What’s her favorite color?

How does she like her coffee?

There’s a japanese phrase called koi no yokan which means that you eventually will fall in love with a person you meet. You’re going to grow so fond of that person that you would want to see no one by your side but them. She was that person for him.

He rubs his hands for the nth time in a futile attempt to warm them up, waiting outside ____’s building. How is this evening going so slow? He has been here for perhaps half an hour now, so why does it feel like it’s been a decade?

And funnily enough, the only person who can put him out of his misery is _____. At this point, the guy fears he wouldn’t be able to so much as look her in the eye, but not doing that will be the end of him too.

He looks down and lets his hands run over his black button down shirt, wondering if she would like it. She loved seeing him in black on the first date. A loud click clack of heels grab his attention, perking his ears up. He looked up and there she was in all her glory.

Jungkook releases a breath and rubs his chest as if his heart hurts. As if it’s telling him how unworthy he is of this woman who is walking up to him, who may be as nervous as him but still chose him as her man.

The woman who could have anyone she wanted wrapped around her pinky finger gave her days, nights and evenings to him. She smiled at him, for him and if he was lucky, because of him.

_____ stops before him while he’s still adjusting to the sight of her. “How do I look?”

Unreal, exquisite and way out of his league.

He shakes his head from side to side, thinking of a single word that would suffice the answer to that. He fails and so instead he runs his fingers down her forearm until he reaches her soft hands and takes it into his own cold ones.

Placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles, he begins. “My imagination of you in this dress has got nothing on this vision.”

Her face morphs into the softest expression of love, “And exactly how many times have you imagined me in this dress, Jeon Jungkook?”

He takes a step forward, his chest almost touching hers. “I can’t answer that. You want to know why?”

“Why?” Her voice is emotionless. His thumb grazes her lower lip as he tries not to smudge her nude lipstick. “Because if I do, we’ll have to go back into your apartment and try not to wake your neighbours up.” She swats his chest and softly pushes him back, dissolving into a giggle.

“You’re looking quite handsome yourself.” she says as her eyes shamelessly check him out. His sleeves are halfway folded stopping just below his elbow, beautifying his tattooed forearms.

He’s also wearing his favorite blue baggy jeans with his usual black chunky boots. The same ones he goes for when he knows _____ might not be able to bear the pain caused by her heels, so he ends up swapping them with the boots.

He would argue carrying her all the way to her apartment instead, but settles elseways.

Jungkook opens the car door for her and only after she’s well seated, he runs to his side and takes off.

The ride to the restaurant is quiet despite the obvious tension that doesn't go unnoticed by either him or her. As much as he would like to spend the rest of the night snuggled into bed with her, he knows there is something more significant than that. So instead he indulges in caressing her thigh.

“After you, angel.” He places a hand on the small of her back.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

The ambience looks straight out of the movies. Like a paradise. Violinists are playing a chorus of Fuck her gently by Tenacious D far across the room.

Jungkook catches an unknown look on her face. “Something’s wrong?”

She shakes her head, flashing him a smile. “I love this song.”

He places a tiny kiss on her temple. “I know, baby. C’mon.”

You know how women have this killer instinct of knowing if and when somebody’s watching them? It’s like they have a separate pair of googly eyes on the back of their head to protect them from creeps.

From the moment you have entered the place, the man in the wine shirt has been making a hole in your face with the way he’s been staring at you.

Is your dress too revealing? Are you showing too much skin?

“Oh I forgot to tell you. Your grandmother called earlier today.” Jungkook disrupts your thoughts.

You gulp down the last piece of steak before answering. “Let me guess she asked you to join her for thanksgiving?” He nods, a bright smile on his face. “I told her I would love to.”

A cheeky smile unfurls slowly on your face. Jungkook loves your grandmother. Maybe a little bit more than you do. Just a tiny bit though. Last year when you and he visited her, he was the first person apart from you to get a hug out of her.

Your grandma is not much of a hugger by the way. Her hugs are totally exclusive.

“I’m sure she loves having my ‘eye candy of a boyfriend’ there.”

Jungkook snorts, placing his fork down. “She called me an eye candy?”

He dissolves into a fit of laughter when you answer his question with a nod.

“See now that’s the biggest achievement I have had in a while. I mean what are the odds your wife’s grandma calls your an eye candy-”

Something sours in your stomach. The steak here tastes awful or maybe it’s just you feeling pathetic that as soon as he says ‘wife’ your expression morphs into something so dreadful that it causes him to stop. What are the odds that you just gave him a reality check and dragged him out of a fool’s paradise?

“Angel, what’s-”

You stand abruptly, cutting him off yet again. His eyes bob all over you, and then a sad frown puckers between his brows.

“I’ll just be back. I need to use the washroom.” You say as you grab your handbag as quickly as you can before leaving him there. Confused and wondering what the fuck just happened?

Few minutes later, just as you’re walking outside the washroom and making a way towards your table someone’s voice causes you to stop midway.

“Excuse me.”

Turning to face the person, you come face to face with the same man from earlier. The one wearing a wine colored shirt along with a nasty expression. You believe he’s trying to look cocky but is failing miserably.

“Can I help you?”

A slow smile spreads over his mouth. “I couldn’t help but notice that the man you’re here with seems to upset you in some way.”

An awkward chuckle leaves you. “The man is my boyfriend and I don’t think it concerns you if he’s upsetting me or not.”

He walks a little closer. Oh no, this is bad.

“Fair enough,” he shrugs, “But clearly he’s not being a good boyfriend, is he?”

The audacity of this man.

You huff out a frustrated breath, “Listen, you need to shut up and stay within your limits. It’s not healthy going around poking your nose into everyone’s business.”

His sly smile grows even more as he steps closer than before.

The hair on your body stands up, and not in a good way, but in a very uncomfortable way. You suddenly regret the idea of leaving Jungkook’s side. Bad, bad decision.

Currently, you have two options. You can either just walk off and act like nothing happened, which by the way, is a safe option or you can kick the man in the balls and then act like nothing happened.

Since you're much more accustomed to the former option, you decide to do just that but when his hands grip your wrist with an iron grip, you settle on the latter.

You knee him between the legs with an intention to hurt him as he grunts in pain, his hands gripping where you just kicked him.

“You fucking bitch.”

Before he can say anything further, you storm off. Your phone buzzes inside your handbag and you automatically assume it to be Jungkook’s call. As soon as you spot him across the room, you feel the clouds parting, there’s a feeling threatening to arise. It’s something between protected and anguished.

Anguished because you let your mind speak so deafeningly that it silenced the oh so loud love Jungkook has for you. And protected because you know for a fact that if he had any idea about what that man just did to you, he would not think twice before dragging him by the hair before bringing him to his knees in front of you to apologize.

He stands once he sees you and you waste no time running towards him. Your arms go around him as you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck. His arms immediately embracing you in return, securing you against his chest.

It feels warm.

Concern laces his voice as he says, “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you. Breathe”

You don’t even realise you’re panting unless he says that. You’re aware that at this point the way you flung yourself at him must have got everyone’s attention. But you genuinely don’t care. It might as well be an auditorium full of people watching you hug your boyfriend like an anchor, you just don’t care.

You realise that’s exactly what Jungkook is. Your anchor. Someone who didn’t even ask as to what happened before he straight away began consoling you.

His hand envelops the back of your head in a protective way while the other soothes your back.

“Do you want to leave? We can leave right now if you want to.”

“Yes, please.”

His body shakes as though he just nodded. “All right, let me pay real quick and we’ll leave yeah?”

Your voice is muffled against his chest. “Yeah.”

You suck in a sharp breath as he lets you go. The small folder on the table grabs your attention. He opens it only to find a note inside of it saying— “It’s on me, gorgeous”.

You can see the wheels in his mind turning, but before he starts asking you any questions which may or may not cause a breakdown of yours, you say, “I’ll explain it to you outside. Can we please go?”

“Let me see wh-”

“Please?” He lets out a defeated sigh and nods. “Yeah- Yeah let’s go.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

At first when Jungkook saw that note, the first emotion that he felt was rage and a very serious one at that. But it was soon replaced by realization. It doesn’t take a scientist to figure out that something nasty went down after _____ left to use the washroom. Something he can’t wait to get to the bottom of. Nevertheless, he didn’t want her to be pressured to answer the more obvious question.

Jungkook’s girl is attractive. She’s kind and empathetic and fucking stunning which makes her worthy of all the attention she gets. Of course men are going to want to be with her.

Initially, it bothered him. A lot.

Now, though? He’s grown rather used to it. However, it has never come to having someone pay for her in a restaurant. Even the thought of someone so much as speaking to her in an inhumanely manner makes him want to punch a hole through a wall.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

The silence is too loud inside the car. He can hear ____’s heart beating loudly or is it his own?

She’s leaning back with her head against the headrest. When she doesn’t respond, Jungkook speaks again, “_____ baby, will you please at least look at me?”

Her eyes connect with his and he flashes her the softest of smiles.

Taking her hand, he kisses the inside of her wrist where he can feel her pulse.

Thump thump thump.

“I want you to give me something, angel. Anything.”

He can see her gulp before admitting, “There was um… there was a guy outside the washroom and he kind of tried to force himself on me,” she closes her eyes for a brief moment, “Maybe I’m just being dramatic, but I handled him.”

Jungkook’s stomach drops. He was right. His hands fly out to open the car door before _____ holds him back. “Don’t. I said I handled it.”

He turns back, his voice leaking with anger along with something more barbaric. “And I’m proud that you did, but if I don’t go in and beat that asshole into a new one I won’t be able to call myself a man worthy of you anymore. I need him to know that he can’t fuck with my girl and go about his goddamn day.” “Jungkook, please. I can’t take it anymore. Please stop.”

And he does. For now.

He leans back, running his hands over his face with frustration. For a few minutes he and ____ just stare outside the front glass of the car. The parking lot slowly gets empty as people leave for their homes one by one.

Just when he thinks _____ has dozed off, her voice reaches him. “Can I get one more hug?”

“Come here.”

He takes her into a warm embrace before kissing the top of her head, settling his lips there. His anger has yet not fully dissipated, but having her so close calms his heart. It calms his whole being. Her touch, her breath against his skin, her presence heals something in him.

Therefore, he made up his mind about spending his whole life with her. The little slip of words, which by the way was totally unintentional, soured _____'s expression and that didn’t go unnoticed by him.

She’s scared but he fully intends to let her know that she doesn’t have to.

______ unwraps herself from his arms and pushes back. Just enough for their noses to touch.

She shakes her head, “Don’t give me those eyes.”

Jungkook holds back a smile. “What eyes, angel?”

“The same ones you give me when you want something dirty to happen. Those big brown eyes of yours.”

He lets a chuckle slip out. “I’m down if you are.”

When she offers him her own laugh, gosh it’s as though he comes alive. If he could bottle up the sound, he would. Something passes in _____’s eyes. Lust? Desire? He can’t pinpoint.

He wants to kiss the hell out of her though and he wants to do it desperately. Her eyes drop to his mouth and he takes it as a sign to lean forward and press his mouth against hers.

Her lips part ever so slightly followed by her gripping Jungkook’s collar to bring him even closer. So close as if she wants their souls to intertwine.

The feeling is very much mutual.

She gets up from the passenger’s seat without breaking the kiss and straddles his lap. Her legs on either side of his thigh as their core’s touch. Jungkook is not sure how long he can endure this sweet pain of waiting.

In all sincerity, he’s been holding himself back from the very moment he saw her walking up to him in that dress. Do with that information what you will.

Now, he just wants to say fuck it and get inside her— only that he can’t, because he wants her to take her time and ask for it. Then and then only he will fuck her. If it’s inside this car then so be it.

The kiss is electric and filled with passion, tingling his skin in all the right places as she matches his enthusiasm with her own.

______ pulls back with a deep breath, leaving Jungkook panting heavily.

“Please.” she begs.

A strand of hair falls on her face. He tucks it behind her ear. “Please what baby?”

“Please fuck me, Jungkook. I want you so bad and I want you right now.” she whines.

He grins. “At your service, ma’am.”

He hears _____’s light chuckle as he gets out of the car, carrying her with him while also making sure she doesn’t hit her head on the hood. She detaches herself from him once they’re out and settles in the back seat. Only after ensuring she’s comfortable enough, Jungkook follows her.

His body lays on top of her and he wastes no time as their mouths collide. Her finger grip the hair on his nape and he groans with pleasure, his cock going thick. He rubs it on her lower stomach to show her how much he wants her, gaining a moan out of her.

Jungkook’s head goes fuzzy with every passing second. He almost comes when she lifts her hips up and rubs a slow circle against his cock.

“Fuck.” He groans, pulling back from the kiss. _____’s cheeks are heated and lips are swollen. He did that. Her man did that.

Suddenly, he’s grateful for the tinted glass and his big car.

_____ lifts her head up and kisses his sweaty cheek, swiping his forehead with her palm. “You’re sweating, honey.”

“Yeah, I tend to do that in your presence. Do you know how hard it was for me to stay sane after seeing you look so unbelievably gorgeous?”

She passes him a lazy smile, “You’ve always been so good at controlling yourself, haven’t you?”

“Not anymore.” He sits up, knees on either side of her body and starts unbuckling his belt all the while panting with excitement. His pants slide halfway down letting his cock spring free. Thick, angry and leaking with precum. His shirt goes next.

______’s eyes flash with lust as she bites her lower lip. The straps of her dress have slipped down, leaving her tits bare and open for Jungkook.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby.” he leans forward as she runs a hand up his bare spine, hooking her legs over his hip.

“Please.” she whispers.

A loud thunder outside the car grabs Jungkook’s attention. Nice, he’s so horny he didn’t even realise that it’s raining. Another rumble of thunder drowns their panting breath but he still only focuses on the woman beneath him. The goddess of a woman who trusts him with her body. How lucky he is to call her his own.

She brushes his hair out of his face, her thumb dusting over the mole on the bridge of his nose before her hand follows the path of his tattooed arm, his rib, his ass, until she wraps a fist around his dick.

He pushes into her hand. “I need to grab the condoms from the console, angel.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, the car filling with the pants and whimpers before she says, “I want you bare. I’m on the pill.”

Jungkook has never gone without condom nor has he considered going without one, but this woman right here just asked him to get inside her bare and fuck if it doesn’t tempt him.

And so he gives in, but not before asking, “Are you sure?”

“As sure as one can be.”

He nods, bringing his lips back to hers. His hand finds her thong under the dress as he slides it down her legs. Then he strokes a single line up and down her slit, wetting his finger with her cum. When he brings the same finger to his mouth and sucks on it, _____ all but whimpers.

His cock follows next and he does the same with it, rubbing himself up and down her slit as he coats himself in her before he presses his thumb down on the head of his cock, curls his hips forward, and pushes into her.

Tortuously slowly, inch by fucking inch.

She’s so warm and tight for him. He’s not sure how long he can take before he shoots his load inside of her.

“More.” she pleads, her face morphing into the most beautiful expression of pleasure.

Jungkook pulls back and pushes again, watching more of a length disappear inside of her. He’s not even halfway in and she’s already crying out his name.

Leaning in, he bites her neck in an attempt to give her his all. All his love, all his nights and all his life. The question is at the tip of his tongue but considering what happened inside, he quickly holds himself back.

“You’re doing so good for me, my angel. Taking me so well,” He thrusts again. “You’re made for me, aren’t you?”

She cries out.

“What was that?” She throws her head back. “Yes. Oh my god”

Thrust. “Yes, what baby? I’m gonna need you to say it.”

Jungkook takes her nipple in his mouth, sucking on it until she cries out again, “I’m made for you. Fuck.”

He releases the nipple with a loud pop. “That’s right you are.” His pelvic bone is flush with hers, ____’s legs as wide as possible to accommodate him. She dusts her fingertips up and down his spine while he slowly kisses along her jaw.

When she pushes her heels into his ass, urging him to move, he pulls out part way before pushing back in again.

She lets out a moan quickly followed by his own. _____’s hands run over Jungkook’s abs, nipples, and wrap around his shoulders.

He’s fucking her slowly, taking his time, feeling her body and letting her feel his too. Every brush, every graze, every breath is precious to him.

Soft and intimate.

So when the next words leave Jungkook’s mouth, he blames it on the moment. “Marry me.”

_____’s eyes which were closed earlier, savoring the very moment, pop open and his movement halts.

“What?”

“Fuck. Okay, I know this is not a position or place a woman wants to be proposed in, but I have to say this before I go insane. _____, I know you’re scared and I also know the reason behind it. Of course, I won’t ask you why you kept that part a secret from me, because I respect you and want you to take your time. But baby,” he brushes his thumb over her cheekbone, “I need you to know that I will die before I let anything like that go down between us. I love you so much you don’t even realise. Sometimes I even shock myself with how much I cherish you. You’re a gift to me, a gift which brings out the best not just in me but in everyone she meets.”

He places a small kiss on her forehead before continuing, “I can go anywhere, see everything but it still wouldn’t match the level of affection I hold for you in my heart. Still wouldn’t match the beauty of your smile, you amazing woman. You’re all I have ever wanted. So please, make me the happiest motherfucker in the world by saying ye-”

“Yes”

‘What?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you. Now will you please shut up fuck me like you promised, husband?”

He bites her jaw, “Oh, I’ll fuck you so nice you’ll be begging for more, wife.”

Soon enough, _____’s lower lip trembles as her orgasm takes over, and he has the privilege to watch it all. The fluttering of her lashes, the marks of her nail down his arm and the way she calls him her husband again when she’s able to find her words.

He’s so gone.

About half an hour later when he asks her again as to what changed her mind about marriage, she says something so deep yet in such a casual way, he wants to cry.

“When I hugged you inside, you didn’t ask questions. You just let me be and that may seem like a miniscule thing for someone else, but for me it was enough. Enough to stay with you until I turn all wrinkly and grey haired.”

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lullabyalikpoptarot · 1 day ago

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Hello, can you do MLT in enhypen that is good in bed. 🥹🥹🥹

I am going to use this question to dive into what their sexual energy is. I have been interested in this topic lately.

Disclaimer: No facts, all alleged. I am reading sexual energy here and it helps understand who they are as a person. I went back and forth if I wanted to answer this one. Spicy question and my Scorpio mars felt intrigued. Now, I am going to expand on this question and ask about their sexual energy. Now, sexual energy can be about matters of sex, but it can also be harnessed into creative projects as well and extended to other areas of our lives. Now, I do not see the act of sex as dirty, perverted like some of ya’ll do, it is a beautiful act, if done right, between two people. How one approaches sex connects to their past, their upbringing, aspects of themselves, and any healing that may need to be done, so I wanted to answer this question to see where they fall in that spectrum. This energy can be used for their creative work as an idol as well.The reading will go into both aspects. Now, with the energy. I may be able to determine where they fall here with the question you asked, so I can try to list it. Okay, this is listed in the order of the question that was originally asked to the best I can by the energy. This took a lot longer than I expected good thing I did this on the weekend lol

Jake (The Chariot/King of Cups/The Hierophant)

Of course he would get the King of Cups, as he is a Scorpio, so he is very in his energy. He is someone who is bold and will take the initiative. He has a fearless energy to him, always up for the next challenge, but he can also move on pretty quickly. I can see him facing any challenge that comes his way. He is a loving person, compassionate lover, someone who listens and tries his best to please his partner. Sex can be very emotional and intense for him. He also sees it as an emotional act. I see him being the type to take his time. He may be the type that likes to give guidance or receive guidance. I am getting, learning from elders, so maybe someone passed down some guidance of how to please a partner or the act of sex, that is weird, but okay. It is like he heard or saw how they go about things and followed suit, yup going with that. Sounds weird to me, but just the messenger. I can also see the hierophant as someone who is experienced, so he can have that. Although he is very emotional and intense, he does his best to not show it and does keep his cool, and maybe tries to come off colder than he really is. It is interesting to me that he doesn’t seem as bold when it comes to his creative pursuits, as these energies tie into each other, he seems much less confident in that area. Alright, so I did ask why he isn’t as confident. I got the message that he gets judged, and I am thinking he doesn’t get judged during sex, but got more pressure, okay, makes sense actually. So, if he didn’t get judged and had that pressure, he would be much more bold and take risks when it comes to creative projects with work. Interesting.

Sunghoon (7 of Wands/Death/Ace of Wands)

Oh, we got our first wands, yay! I see a defensive energy here, but now kind of seeing that protective energy, possessive energy he has. It gives me what is his, is his. This Death card gives me Scorpio energy, so he is intense and passionate, so his sexual energy seems to be the strongest to me. There are things he needs to kind of release. Also, the act of sex can help him release any tension he does have. It can be a transformative experience for him. I got an out of body experience, interesting. I do see him enjoying the act of sex, enjoying the passion and intensity of it. I mean he does have strong Scorpio placements, but seeing him being more intense than Jake, I would say it would surprise me, but not really lol It is like he is able to let go of himself, maybe not be so tense, so it can help him release tension he has, that makes sense why he enjoys it and other reasons of course. He also has creative ways of doing the act and he can be spontaneous. He probably prefers quickies and he isn’t the type to take his time. I keep hearing the korean word 빠른 which means quick, so yeah. I can see this with his creative work of being protective of what he does, defending his territory and work and having this spark of passion, but it quickly dies, so he loses interest.

Heeseung (Wheel of Fortune/10 of Wands/Queen of Cups)

Something about time is speaking to me with two of these cards. It is like he tends to feel rushed or needs to rush. He puts a lot of burden on himself. I don’t see sex being very relaxing for him per say. I am not sure why I am getting, time is ticking, I keep hearing that. On this one card, I never notice the clock and now that is all I can focus on. This is interesting, what does that mean! This also spills into his creative pursuits, this need to rush. All that plays into together in the bedroom and when he creates something. So, with the queen of cups, he is sensitive, nurturing, tender, very giving and most likely pretty emotionally attuned to the person. He would know and understand what his person likes and enjoys and will do his best to please them. I can see him seeing this as an emotional act between two people. I see him being a very sweet lover. I can also see in his creative pursuits he will also need to be emotionally attuned with it, and I believe he pours his emotions into his music, so whatever he creates comes from his heart and his own experiences.

Jungwon (Ace of Wands/10 of Wands/King of Pentacles)

So, we got some wands here. He goes in hard and fast, I don’t mean to sound dirty, but that is what I got, leave me alone lol. He goes from the ace to the 10, that is a very fast progression there. He is a passionate one, pretty sexual. It is like a lot happens way too quickly and then he burns out, how that plays out in sex, don’t know. He may be the type that likes to try different things. It is like he goes from 0 to 100 and doesn’t let things slowly progress. Now, with the King of Pentacles, he is a precise person, maybe a perfectionist. He may like things a certain way. He may be specific about certain details. It is like he wants things this way or that way. I can see him carrying the burden on himself and wanting to take control of things. So, he is pretty dominant. I am kind of getting, let me do with you as I wish, omg lol He is also pretty stubborn and has a set way of doing things, so trying to change that will be hard. If I remember correctly, I did do a reading where I heard he was a passionate lover, so I am still getting that, but anyway, how this plays to his creative endeavors, well he is a perfectionist, a very detailed person, precise with things. I can see him being someone who tries to do too much and carries all the weight on himself, not really wanting the help from others and quickly burning himself out.

Jay (9 of Pentacles/5 of Cups/7 of Wands)

It takes Jay a bit more time to open up. I will say he isn’t as open as the others with this topic, which I understand. There are some wounds here and rejection. Some disappointment. I see him preferring to do it on his own than with somebody. He is protective of his space, also getting a very defensive energy here. I will stop. He isn’t as comfortable with his sexual energy. So, I moved to his creative energy as they blend with another, there is a sense he may feel he isn’t good enough, or has been rejected in the past for his creative endeavors. It seems he is trying to build financial independence but hasn’t been able to build that. Sorry, can’t get much from him and not forcing it. He’s got some wounds to heal with this one.

Sunoo (10 of Pentacles/Page of Swords/4 of Cups)

I kind of felt he had slightly an asexual vibe, even though I didn't mention that in the LBGQIA+ reading, although flirty, I say more playful than flirty, not that sexual in my opinion. Also, cards saying that too. He is about building a legacy, so he may have children, but that is for the family legacy. He doesn’t seem like the type that enjoys sex all that much. I don’t see an emotional connection to it. He connects through the mind and conversations, not through sex. I don’t see him being all that communicative and open with sex. He may be that comfortable with the act of it. It is like the act is an obligation for him to be honest. I feel him on that, same. The act may even give him the ick to be real. He seems pretty cautious and will do it mainly to make a child, or if he really loves the person. But it isn’t something he enjoys. So, his sexual energy doesn’t seem that strong, so creating music can be a difficult task for him, or tapping into his creative energy can be. He just isn’t that confident in that area. I wouldn’t say not confident, but just timid and shy when it comes to it. It seems hard for him to express that energy. It is like this energy doesn’t come natural to him.

Ni-Ki (The Hanged Man/Ace of Swords/The Tower)

Yeah, expected this, not much with him too, which makes sense. Pretty passive, not in a rush to do the act. Not sure he ever has to be honest. He is very cautious. I see him getting a whole bunch of information about it though, so I see lack of experience here. I see him ghosting people a lot. Interestingly enough I also got the tower when I did my own sexual energy reading, I took as me catastrophizing the act and thinking something bad will happen out of it, hint kids. I don’t want kids! That could be his mindset, so he avoids it. He can just sense something bad can happen from it. Yeah, not much here. He continues to give me asexual energy. It doesn’t mean he won’t have sex or have kids, but it isn't a high priority for him. Now, on to the creative side, he has potential to be a creator. He does have that energy to create things, but he isn’t very connected to it. Actually, when I read for him in general, he gets the ace of swords a lot, meaning he has the potential and the ideas, but doesn’t plan further, or look further into it to implement the idea, crazy how these connect. Sexual energy and how one creates do blend together I see. So, this lack of fall through he has could affect his sexual energy. He tends to not go through with things.

#kpop tarot #enhypen tarot

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cherrirui-official · 11 months ago

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Valentines Day post except its not Valentines day themed, I lied to you

@saltydkart-reblogs

#the saltydkdan server got to see this early #and by early i mean yesterday night right before i went to bed #also WHEN I SAY THIS TOOK WAY LONGER TO MAKE THAN I WANTED TO I MEAN IT UUGH #i ended up having to edit and render this on blender aint that crazy?#anyways... one day i'll actually make a proper valentines day special but today isnt that day #saltydkdan #sanctoklinge #aeroartwork43o9 #ms pastey #now fully animated!... kinda...#im not a pro animator lol im still a beginner #cherris canvas #if tumblr lowers the quality on this im deleting my account /j

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orcelito · 3 months ago

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Despite all odds, I have arrived home safely👍

Turns out that the earlier goop was the better goop. The adderall goop. The adderall has worn off now though. So I am. Very incredibly out of it.

But I am home. And I will take my quick shower. And then I will climb into bed.

I do need to eat. But... later...

#speculation nation #im the special kind of tired where im more tired than hungry #which is to say my every cell is yelling at me to get some fucking sleep.#and i dont think id be much more successful at eating rn than i was this morning.#i ate. half a can of chef boyardee. which was half bc i was so focused on typing and half bc i could barely stomach it.#so i at least ate Something. but not as much as normal.#i did have an ensure in the middle of the day. so theres some nutrients too at least.#i'll eat after i get a few hours of sleep. when the edge is no longer so desperate.#and hopefully i'll be able to stomach things better then.#honestly have all nighters always been this hard or am i just getting older? i havent actually pulled an all nighter since uhhh #well there was kind of one on dead dad day. but that day sucked just in general.#last time i think was april '23 when i read t.rimax volume 9-14 within a 24 hour period while also finishing a final presentation.#even then tho i got like 2 hours of sleep. it was still pretty rough though.#like ok i guess those times were pretty awful and also i did get at least some sleep. which is more than today.#so it makes sense for me to be in worse shape rn. i also didnt get as much sleep the night before last as i wanted to #i got... ...maybe 4 hours sleep??? ummm. which isnt a good thing actuslly. no wonder im so fucking exhausted.#i can barely type right now i will be honest. it was so hard to bike home. it took all my focus to not drive off a bridge #or get pushed into traffic by wind. oh boy the wind sure did try.#then i almost tripped down the stairs at my apartment after grabbing the mail bc i Briefly was focused on my mail 🙄#barely present. total mess. but at least im home. and i already did all the thinking i need to do today.#i was brave. i perservered. i was tempted to give up around 6 am ish but i was like No. this is getting done TODAY.#so i did it. i turned it in. and i so bravely did my in class work for my 2nd class. even though i was so mentally not present the whole way #i did my thinking... i am home... rest soon.#actually its kind of funny im lying on my couch rn and i think if most other ppl were in my current state theyd fall asleep right here.#but the power of my insomnia is so. powerful. i am not at risk of falling asleep without meaning to.#only time thats ever actually happened are like. a handful of times i was like. the most tired ive ever been in my life. etc etc.#in fact idk how well i'll be able to fall asleep for my nap. i certainly couldnt last night despite how hard i tried.#hopefully this time... i am truly tired enough....pls i need to rest i am so tired 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

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amee-racle-ofmyown · 1 year ago

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Csptaineer art request 5. admiring them from afar

dear anon, I know you asked for art but I had intended these as writing prompts! however!! I may doodle something for this later anyway, because it's cute :3

and still, never do we tire of watching stars glow

head engineer mark x reader (the captain) | words: 877

For as long as you'd known him, he'd always had a certain look of awe about him when it came to space:

When you were kids, huddled up in blankets watching a documentary about The Solar System while you shared a bowl of cookies.

And as teens, laying side by side in the dry summer grass, gazing up at the stars dotting the sky, laughing and pointing out constellations and making up stories about what it would be like when you got to be among them.

And as cadets, the first time you voyaged beyond Earth's atmosphere.

Now the Captain of a ship he'd built from the ground up, it took you by surprise when you looked up from your data tablet one day to see him gazing at you with that same look of wistfulness and wonder.

His expression lasted for the briefest moment before he registered that you'd seen him, eyes widening and cheeks flushing almost imperceptibly from this distance. He immediately averted his gaze to anywhere but yours, busying himself with whatever he could.

You let out an amused huff, an incredulous yet flattered smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

It was far from the first time you'd caught someone giving you a starstruck or near-mesmerised look, especially within your own crew. But for him to be the one staring like that? The same admiration and fascination that you'd seen in his eyes when he beheld an eclipse, or a meteor shower, or your new home planet, directed at you…?

You couldn't deny the small flutter in your stomach, or your heartbeat slightly quickening its pace.

You brushed off the thought and continued working, but from then on you couldn't help but keep noticing the awe and longing when he looked at you, whether it be from across a room or in conversation. It made you wonder if this was a recent phenomenon, or if you had simply been blind to it for a long time.

It was one of those moments of catching his warm, starlit gaze in which you were caught off-guard once again.

You met his eyes with the same intensity once you realised he was watching you, raising your eyebrows slightly to get his attention. He looked embarrassed and a little taken aback, as he always did in such scenarios, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as he decided whether or not to abandon ship. Instead, his mouth curved into a smile that crinkled his eyes with fondness, followed by a quick wink.

Now it was your turn to look surprised.

It's not that the gesture was out of character or that he couldn't be bold when he wanted to. You just hadn't expected it now.

Later, you found it in you to be direct.

‘What's with all the staring lately, Mark?’

His eyes widened at the question. It wasn't particularly like you to be so upfront about something like this.

You watched as your head engineer’s expression turned apologetic and a little guilty, like he'd been caught red-handed.

‘Uhh- I'm sorry. Am I in trouble, Captain?’

You giggled quietly. ‘Nah. I never said I minded, just wondering…’

He visibly relaxed at your response.

‘Oh, well in that case. To be honest, Cap, it's sorta hard to look away sometimes.’

You felt your face flush at this, but were given no pause to utter a reply even if you’d had the words; he continued quickly, as if just realising what he'd said aloud and in the same moment deciding to fully commit to speaking his mind, before he could let himself back out.

‘I just- I love seeing you doing your job, you look so happy and assured. And proud — of everyone you work with, proud that you're part of the team. You're always so willing to help out and listen to what everyone needs. And watching you take command of a situation- You just– you have this aura that screams that you belong here, this is what you were meant to do, and you have a positive effect on everybody around you. We're so lucky and grateful to have you as our Captain.’

And here you are, stunned into silence for a moment.

He stands there, trying to gauge your reaction, a little flustered himself but steadfast in his confession.

You feel a little giddy, but take a breath to soothe your racing heart, finally composing yourself again as the smile you can no longer hold back paints your face.

‘Thank you, Mark. That's… that's really sweet.’

He grins. ‘Just being honest.’

‘And I feel exactly the same about you, by the way.’

He tilts his head in confusion.

‘Watching you in action, it's the same.’

You can see it in his eyes when it clicks.

‘Wait, Captain, are you saying you-’

‘Almost as much as you,’ you chuckle. ‘Except I don't get caught. You could definitely use some improvement in that area.’

He looks away, smile becoming sheepish, the tint on his cheeks you are sure matches yours from only moments ago.

‘But… like I said,’ you speak up again, drawing his attention back to you. ‘I don't really mind. It is kinda cute seeing your reaction when I catch you.’

#I'm sorry this took a lot longer than I was planning #at first I was just struggling then when I got into it stuff was happening irl and I was too busy😩#but anyway I hope you enjoy!#hope this doesn't read as too ooc or anything😬 I just want super sweet fluff rn #maybe I am just overthinking but lmk what you think y'all think #as always reading your comments makes my entire day or week even #ALSO CHILDHOOD FRIENDS CAPTAINEER WOOO #I AM SUCH A SUCKER FOR THE TROPE #AND I THINK ABOUT MARK AND THE CAPTAIN AS KIDS ALL THE TIME LIKE WAY TOO MUCH #also about the title bc I was feeling a little poetic :0 just think.#humanity has been gazing at the same stars for eons #and yet we still do it #we don't ever get bored #maybe some like to more than others but #I think it's fair to say that it's a pretty universally shared and agreed upon idea that stars are beautiful #and looking at them is nice #and we probably won't stop any time soon #I think that's a nice sentiment :) and it literally just came to me as I was trying to think of a title #amee writes #blooming romance prompts #asks #anonymous #iswm #in space with markiplier #captaineer #engineer mark x captain #engineer mark x reader #head engineer mark x reader #head engineer mark #engineer!mark

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gor3sigil · 6 months ago

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Before starting T, when I socially transitionned, I was surrounded by radical feminists who saw masculinity as gross and inherently evil, something to avoid, something to make fun of, something to destroy. The other transmascs in my friend group, sometimes, told me that they didn’t knew if they really were non-binary or if they just were scared shitless of saying “I am a man”. Because they saw this as a betrayal to their younger self who had been SAd and abused.

I saw many of my masc friends and trans men around me hate themselves, not outing themselves as men because it would imply so so much, it was like opening the Pandora Box. Even when we were just together, talking about our masculinity was always coated with bits like “I know we’re the privileged ones but…”, “I don’t want to sound like I have it bad but…”, “Women obviously have it worse, but last time…” and we were talking about terrible traumas we experienced while taking all the precautions in the world in the case the walls were a crowd of people in disguise waiting to get us if we didn’t downplay the violence we faced, or like crying and being upset and being traumatized and afraid and scared and to say it out loud would make us throw up the needles we were forced to swallow every second of every day living in our skin.

Most of us weren’t on T yet, some of us were catcalled every day and harassed in the streets or in abusive relationships nobody seemed to care to help them get out of because they were “strong enough” to do it by themselves.

I was using the gender swap face app and cried for ours when I saw my father looking back at me through the screen. The idea of transforming, of shedding into a body that would deprive me of love, tenderness, and safety, was absolutely terrifying. I knew I couldn’t stay in this body any longer because it wasn’t mine, but I also knew that if I was going to look like my dad, my brother, my abusers, it would be so much worse.

5 years later and I’m almost 2 years on T, and almost 2 months post top surgery.

I ditched my previous group of friends. I was bullied out of my local trans community. But let me tell you how free I am.

I was scared that T would break my singing voice: it made it sound more alive than ever.

I was scared that T would make me less attractive: it made me find myself hot for the first time in my life.

I was scared that T would make me gain weight: it did. But the weight I put on is not the weight I used to put on by binging and eating my body until I forgot that it even existed. It’s the weight of my body belonging to me, little by little. The wolf hunger for life.

I won’t tell you the same story I see everywhere, the one that goes “I started going to the gym 8 times a week, I put on some muscles, I started a diet and now I look like an action film actor”, in fact if you took pictures of me from 5 years ago vs now I’d just have more acne, I’d have longer hair and still look like I don’t know what to do with myself when I take selfies.

But the sparkle in my eyes, my smile, tell the whole story way better than this long ass stream of words could ever.

I want to say some things that I wish someone told me before starting medically transitionning.

It’s okay to take your time. It’s your body, it’s your journey, if you don’t feel comfortable taking full doses and want to go slow, the only voice you need to listen to is your own. Do what feels right.

If you feel overwhelmed, it’s okay to take a break, it’s okay to ask for support.

Trans people are holy. Everyone is. You didn’t lose your angel wings when you came out because you want to be masculine. You are not excluded from the joy of existence, from being proud of yourself, from being sad, from being scared, from being angry. The emotions and feelings you allowed yourself to feel while processing what you experienced when you grew up as a girl and was seen as a woman are still as valid as before. Nobody can take that from you. If someone tries to, don’t let them.

It’s perfectly normal to grieve some things you were and had before you started to transition, like your high soprano voice or even your chest. Hatching is painful. You can find comfort in things that don’t feel right, so making the decision to change can be incredibly scary and weird and you deserve to be heard and supported through this. Wanting top surgery doesn’t make the surgery less intense, less terrifying, less painful to recover from. When it becomes too much you have the right to take a break and take some deep breaths before going on.

You don’t have to have a radical, 180° change for your transition to be acceptable or valid or worthy of praise. Look at how far you’ve come already. It doesn’t have to show, you’re not made to be a spectacle, you’re human and it is your journey.

Oh, and last thing, you know when some people say “Oh this trans person has to grow out of the cringy phase where you think that you can write essays about being trans or transitionning or just their experience because it’s weird” ? If you ever hear this or see this online, remember all the people whose writing you read and, even if they were not professional writers, helped you more than any theorists did ? If you want to write, do it. It won’t be a waste. It can help people. Or it won’t, and even then, if it helped you, that’s enough.

Love every of my trans siblings, take care of yourselves. You deserve the world.

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tardis--dreams · 10 months ago

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I wish i could get buproprion without a prescription this shit is way too good to give up ㅠㅠ

#damn it #i stopped my meds for a week and it didn't change a thing #but i took them again just to see if that would make a difference and holy shit #i was thinking about pausing taking them for a while now because i wanted to have the side effects back #like when i first started taking them 2020 #and i never did because i thought I'd be miserable due to withdrawal and also it would take longer than a week to 'reset' my...#body? brain? idk. whatever. it actually makes a huge difference for me though #i hate how you have to get insulted by doctors in order to get these meds #I'd even pay for it myself fuck health insurance coverage #but noooo #can't have shit #sooooo #i gotta think about a way to continue to get them #it shouldn't be as hard as adhd meds to get it from my family doctor but I've been thinking it probably would be better #to not bring them up with her and instead suffer from my ps*chiatrist's insults for some more time #because so far there is no mention of mental illness in my file at my family doctor's office despite mentioning the ADs #if I'd get them prescribed there they would absolutely add depression and i do not want that #maybe my ps*chiatrist retires or dies soon then I'll never talk to one ever again but while she's there i may as well use her #as my drug supplier #(she's probably 52 but we've had two (2!) psychiatrists under the age of 50 die within the last 6 months in this tiny town #which has caused quite some issues because we have like 4 in total lmao #(so it wasn't a joke saying maybe she'll die soon. anyone could die anytime is the point. i think about people dying a lot and what would #change in my life then. (idk just felt like the phrasing was weird and wanted to elaborate but it whatever) )#void screams

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entitled-fangirl · 5 months ago

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Direwolf.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Summary: Cregan's direwolf is spoiled by the reader.

A/n: Based on ask! Also I'm running a fever, so I'm praying this makes sense

Masterlist

.....................................

"Perhaps it was an idiotic thought from the start," Cregan mutters as he views the sight before him.

His sweet wife sat on the ground of the dining hall, lavishing their dire wolf in affection.

Well, Cregan's direwolf.

Well, it was supposed to be Cregan's.

He had found the wolf not long before he became the Lord of Winterfell. Now, after almost seven years with the animal, their bond was inseparable.

So when Cregan's wife joined the mix, Cregan was nervous.

But she had a love for Dark Night, as did the large beast for her.

"I find it sweet," the Maester said with a light smile. "It is important the two get along, isn't it? Better than fighting for your attention, I'd wager."

"That's the thing," Cregan sighed. "Neither of them needs my attention. They're content on their own."

The maester chuckled, looking at the sight of the woman and wolf before excusing himself.

Cregan walked to the pair, holding his hand out to his wife. "C'mon, sweet girl."

Y/n looked up with a smile and took his hand, brushing off dust from her skirt as she did so.

Dark Night let out a low coo, sitting up and nuzzling at her thigh.

"Seems I'll have to fight for even a moment with you," Cregan smiled as he tucked his face into her neck.

She let out a soft giggle. "Don't be so upset, Cregan. You know you always have my heart."

He chuckled with her, pulling away and leading her to the dining table, pulling out her chair before sitting across from her.

The two talked of mundane things as usual: their day, the problems of the North, ideas they had, anything and everything.

Finally, Cregan tilted his head with a furrowed brow. "What are you doing?"

She looked at him with wide eyes, as if caught in a horrid lie. "N…nothing."

He simply stared, his hands resting atop the table. "Are you feeding Dark Night under the table?"

She reaches to pick something off of her plate, lowering it below the table. "No?"

He leaned back in his chair with an incredulous look and a chuckle, "You little minx. He eats enough, you know that."

"Well, yes, but," she gave a shrug. "He just looks at me so pitifully, I cannot say no."

She reached up to grab more, but Cregan stopped her, "Don't."

She paused, "Cregan-"

"-Do not spoil that damn dog. He is fine."

Before long, Dark Night's large head weighed down on Cregan's lap from under the table, a longing look in the animal's eyes.

Cregan looked down at him with a tight lip and a shaking head, "Your methods may work on our sweet girl, but you will get nothing from me."

The wolf nuzzled in more, trying to get Cregan's attention still.

Finally, Cregan waved his hand out at the wolf, "Get. Go on. You have already been fed today."

Dark Night accepted the defeat and left the dining hall, an obvious annoyance in the way he walked.

"Now," Cregan sighed. "Let us try to speak again."

…

A few hours later, Cregan entered their chambers in pure exhaustion.

The day had been longer than he had hoped, and he wanted nothing more than time with his wife.

Seeing her curled up on the sofa next to the fireplace warmed something inside of him.

He came from behind, leaning down to place a kiss on the crown of her head.

She hummed, looking up from her book. "Hello, lovely."

A small whine sounded in the room.

Cregan's brow furrowed as he scanned the room for his wolf.

"Why is he on the bed?"

She leaned forward, looking over her shoulder to see that the wolf had indeed found a comfortable place on their bed. She shrugged, "He was there when I got here. I didn't have the heart to move him."

Cregan gripped her shoulders from behind, gently massaging them. "I've had this wolf years, and never has he even been allowed the notion that being upon the bed was allowed."

She smiled as she looked over her shoulder at Cregan this time, "He's been so wonderful today. Let him stay."

He leaned down to her ear, a teasing smile across his face, "Why should I?"

She let out a hum. "Please, Cregan."

"Please what?" He teased.

Her head leaned back against the back of the sofa, "You know what you're doing, Lord Stark."

He smirked, leaning up and moving to the bed, "Up."

Dark Night lifted his head to look at Cregan.

Y/n immediately gets off of the couch, "Cregan."

"I mean it," he complains. "That dog cannot run this castle."

"He's not," she comes as she moved to Dark Night, petting his fur.

"My love, he-" Cregan froze completely, eyeing the dog. "A collar? You've bought him a collar?"

She smiled sheepishly. "Perhaps."

Cregan crosses his arms, looking up at the ceiling for a moment as he bit the inside of his cheek in thought. "Gods, you're gonna be the death of me."

"He's being so sweet, Cregan. Look at him!"

Cregan looked down, seeing his sweet wife practically laying on the large animal.

He shook his head, a large smile coming across his face. "As long as there is still room for your husband."

"Oh, always, Cregan."

…

Cregan woke up in the night, pulling at the blanket that would not move. He leaned up on his elbows, seeing the giant dire wolf that laid on his wife's feet, holding the blanket down underneath him.

Cregan heaved a great sigh, but inside, he really didn't mind.

He was glad the two greatest things in his life cared for each other. It made his occasional absence to the Wall less guilt wracked.

He knew they'd keep each other warm until he came back.

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Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath, @yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver

#fanfiction #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x you #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones x y/n #game of thrones imagine #cregan stark x y/n #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #cregan stark imagine #cregan x reader #cregan stark #cregan stark fanfic #hotd cregan #cregan fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic #drew drools over cregan stark

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imaginedisish · 6 months ago

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Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

A/N: This took way longer than expected, and I also sort of got carried away...Hope it still lives up to the requester's expectations (I also saw that the anon asked for fluff...and this ended up being fluff and smut...hope that's okay). Def some errors...I only proofread twice. This one is also inspired by "Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby" by Cigarettes After Sex. Enjoy!

Summary: Logan's kindness towards you is strictly friendly. Until it's not just friendly anymore...

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI! Unprotected PIV, Oral (f!receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms (uh, they're outside...), grumpy!Logan, cursing, major angst, comfort, fluff, references to canon typical violence/death/conflicts, f!reader/afab!reader (reader has hair at the nape of her neck but no description of length/texture/color), mutant!reader, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,662 my back hurts

It had been a long day. Every day was a long day. There were the kids to worry about, and then there was the rest of the world. There’s a war coming, you see it everywhere you look, and hear it everywhere you go. The news. The papers. The kids whispering in hushed echoes late at night when you’re walking the halls sleeplessly. You don’t want a war. You want a life.

The mansion is still bustling—it always is—but it’s slowly winding down. You listen as kids walk up the stairs in waves, heading into their bedrooms for the night. You know you should too, but you like it when the mansion gets quiet. You like knowing that everyone is safe, tucked away. You like it when no one else is around—when you can be alone, the stillness and quiet of a dark and sleeping house cradling you like a mother.

You find yourself in one of the living rooms, the T.V. still on, playing reruns of a cartoon you recognize from years ago. You smile as laughter erupts from down the hall, the padding of small feet echoing along the floorboards and the sound of much heavier boots following close behind.

“Hey! Watch it!” A grumpy, familiar voice shouts as kids run past the doorway to the living room, giggling mischievously. “Fucking kids.” You turn towards the sound of Logan’s voice as it bounces off the walls, his frame entering the doorway.

He has a plate of cookies in one hand and a glass of milk in the other as he strides over to you.

“Hi,” you say sheepishly, smiling up at him. He’s in his beater and his jeans and that leather jacket that hugs him just the right way. You try not to think about how good he looks as he places the plate and the glass down on the coffee table in front of you. Friends don’t think about friends like that, and that’s all you two are: friends.

“Thought you might want a snack,” he mumbles, pointing to the cookies. “And maybe someone to talk to. You’ve got that look on your face.”

You roll your eyes, staring at him incredulously. “What look?”

“That sleepy, stressed face you make,” he starts, walking around the coffee table and taking the spot on the couch right next to you. “When you’re listening to everyone, making sure they’re alright.”

“I’m fine,” you say, reaching for a cookie. Logan sits up and grabs the glass of milk, extending it out to you. “Really, I am,” you promise, but you know he can tell that you’re lying.

You take the glass from him, and his hand falls to your thigh. The feeling of his skin against yours is intoxicating. He works his jaw and opens his mouth. “What’s going on—”

“Logan?” Storm cuts him off, standing in the doorway. Her gaze is focused on Logan’s hand resting on your thigh. “Did you make tea?”

His eyes flicker between you and Storm. You tilt your head, waiting for his response. “Yes,” he answers, his hand lifting from your thigh as he stands. The spot is suddenly cold. You want to grab his hand and yank him back down.

“Well, the water is about to boil,” she says, smirking as the kettle begins to whistle.

Logan mutters a quick shit under his breath as he prowls out of the living room and down the hall to the kitchen. Storm giggles as she watches him, shaking her head. She squints at the cookies and milk, and then at you. You nervously place the milk back down on the coffee table.

“Wow,” is all she says, her arms crossing her chest as she leans against the frame of the doorway. You can hear Logan shuffling around the kitchen, closing cabinets and cursing. “All this for you, huh?”

Your jaw drops just a bit at her words, their meaning instantly smacking you in the face. “O-oh, no,” you stutter defensively. “It’s not like that.”

The conversation quickly ends as Logan walks into the living room with a cup of tea, passing Storm and heading to the couch. He sits down next to you and places the tea in front of you. The tag of the tea bag hangs over the side of the mug, steam wafting off the top.

“You like tea, right?” He asks as you lean over and grab the warm mug in your hands. The heat feels good, but not as good as when his hand was on your thigh.

You nod, swallowing those feelings down as you blow into the cup to cool the hot liquid inside. “Thanks, Logan.” You smile, and he smiles back.

Storm is still in the doorway, a soft laugh stuck in her throat. “I’ll leave you two alone.” And before you can protest, she’s gone, her heels clicking down the hardwood floors of the hallway.

Alone now with Logan, you can’t help but feel nervous. You bring the mug to your lips and finally take a sip, the hot tea dripping down your throat. Was Storm right? No. This is just a friend looking out for a friend. There’s no deeper meaning. So what if Logan brought you cookies and milk? So what if he made tea for you? He’s just being nice, kind, caring. That’s what he always is…to you at least. Maybe only to you—

“Hey, everything okay?” Logan’s voice yanks you back to reality, his palm suddenly warm on your thigh again. You jump at the sensation, accidentally spilling tea on Logan’s hand and all over your thighs.

“Shit,” you mutter, the liquid stinging just a bit against your bare skin. “I’m so sorry,” you say, placing the cup down on the coffee table. When you look back up, Logan is gone. You can hear scuffling in the kitchen again, drawers opening and slamming closed.

“What the fuck are you doing, Logan?” Scott’s voice chastises in the distance.

Logan scoffs, his footsteps echoing against the tile floors. “Fuck off, Summers,” he chides, and you can’t help but laugh at their bickering.

“Think that’s funny?” Logan teases, suddenly in front of you. He rushes over, kneeling next to you. He has a towel in his hand. “You okay?” He asks. “Anything hurt?”

You shake your head from side to side. “Nope, all good,” you say, grinning, ready for him to pass you the towel. But he doesn’t—he’s cleaning you up himself.

He rubs the towel gently across your thighs, sopping up all the tea. His touch is soft and careful. You can feel heat rise to your chest at the closeness—the intimacy of it all. You take a deep breath, struggling to calm your heart as he takes his time taking care of you.

“You sure you’re alright?” He whispers, his eyes suddenly searching yours. The towel hikes up a bit further, the tip brushing against the hem of your shorts. You’re dizzied by his touch, by the comforting way he smiles up at you as he lets the towel fall to the side. Both of his hands are on you now, one on each thigh. His thumbs brush soft shapes into your skin.

Just friends, you say to yourself. Just friends just friends just—

“Hey gu—oh,” Bobby stutters, standing in the doorway with Peter. “S-sorry to interrupt. We didn’t mean to—”

“What do you two want?” Logan cuts him off, his hands slipping off your thighs as he stands to face the boys. You can hear the gruff annoyance in this voice. “No privacy in this goddamn mansion,” he mutters under his breath so low you almost don’t hear it.

“Charles told us to come get you, Logan,” Bobby continues nervously. “He has to talk to you about something.”

Logan groans, irritated as ever. “Fine. Tell him I’ll be there in a second.”

Bobby and Peter nod, too nervous to say anything else, and walk away. Logan is still standing in the same spot. You can tell he’s thinking, contemplating something.

“You better go,” you say, cocking your head towards the hall. “Can’t keep the professor waiting,” you joke. You watch as the corner of his mouth twitches up. Your heart squeezes in your chest at the sight of turning his frown into a smile.

He turns his body so that he’s completely facing you. His throat bobs as his hands curl into fists at his sides. He looks like he’s holding back, resisting—but what? You can’t quite tell.

“Logan?” Charles’ voice calls from down the hall.

“I wanna see that plate clean when I get back,” Logan finally says, pointing to the cookies.

You let out a laugh as he walks to the doorway. “Yes sir,” you pledge, hand on your heart. His smile widens, his eyes grazing up and down your body, as if committing your form to his memory. What you’re seeing can’t be right; it has to be an illusion. You almost think he doesn’t want to leave you—can’t leave you. His feet are planted on the ground, his arms tucked against his chest.

He opens his mouth, but the Professor interrupts him before he can get a word in. “Logan!”

Logan steps out of the doorway impatiently, fists still clutched at his side. “Meet me on the lawn in thirty minutes, okay?” he huffs out, walking down the hallway towards Charles’ voice before you can give him an answer. Charles calls him again. “Yeah, yeah, old man. I hear you!”

Thirty minutes. Just thirty minutes. You can—absolutely cannot—wait thirty minutes.

God. You are so lovesick.

Twenty-five minutes later you’re sitting out on the lawn, far away from the mansion, waiting for Logan, popping the last cookie into your mouth.

You lay down on your back, the cold, wet grass sending a shiver down your spine. There’s a light breeze in the air, bending the green blades and the leaves of the trees back and forth. You look up at the stars, imagining just how hot they are, just how bright they can shine.

“You finished the cookies!” Logan’s voice calls from a few feet away. You sit up, watching the shadow of his form make his way over to you. You can see the smile spread across his face as he reaches your slide, crouching down and sitting next to you.

“Of course I did,” you say. He’s looking down at you, his eyes flickering across your face. You want to look away, but you can’t. It’s like he’s got you stuck there—he always does. He is the one thing you can’t resist.

Logan’s shoulder bumps against yours, the sudden warmth reminding you just how cold you are. You shiver, crossing your arms and tucking them into your chest.

You instinctively and involuntarily lean into his touch, searching for warmth. He catches on to what you’re doing before you do. “Cold?” He asks, shuffling a bit in his spot as he lifts his jacket.

“O-oh no it’s okay you don’t—” But then he’s taking off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

“Better?” He asks, his arm wrapping around your shoulders too, inviting you to lean into him completely.

“Y-yeah,” You stutter, letting your head rest against his chest. You close your eyes, too nervous to keep them open. His jacket smells like him—pine and tobacco and musk. Every breath you take is intoxicating. He’s everywhere, flooding your senses. It’s overwhelming, but there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than with him.

He sighs, his breath fanning against your forehead. “So, what’s the matter?” He asks, tugging you in tighter.

You shake your head, looking up at him. “Nothing,” you say, doing your best to be convincing. “I’m fine.” But you know it’s no use. He can see right through you. It’s like knowing when you’re lying is part of his mutation.

Logan raises his brows. “You’re stressed.” It isn’t a question, it’s a fact. “I could see it before, when we were inside. I can see it when you’re teaching the kids.” He rubs his hand up and down your arm, the feeling almost distracting you from his words. His eyes search yours for the truth, for an answer. “You can talk to me, darlin’. I’m right here.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as those last three words replay in your mind. You swallow your nerves down, searching for the right thing to say.

“What if we’re in danger?” You stumble over the sentence quickly, shooting it out into the air like it’s something you’ve wanted to get rid of for a long time. “What if the stupid war they’re always talking about comes, and we aren’t ready?” You can feel your heart racing, tears brimming behind your eyes.

Logan presses a kiss to your forehead, the warm feeling of his lips unexpected but welcome. “Hey,” he coos, his lips still pressed against your skin. “It’s gonna be okay.”

A tear slides down your cheek. The words come out like vomit, each syllable slipping off your tongue in rapid-fire succession. “But what if it’s not? What if I can’t protect the kids or the team or you for fuck’s sake?” You can’t stop the floodgates—tears flowing freely down your cheeks. You’re speaking between sobs now. “What if they get to us before we can convince them that mutants aren’t something to be wiped out or some disease to be cured? What if—”

Logan’s arms wrap around your body, tugging you against his chest, pulling you as close as possible. “I’m not gonna let that happen,” he murmurs. “We’re going to figure this out. We’re going to be okay.”

“H-how do you know?” You choke, your chest heaving against his. “What if—"

“No more what ifs,” he whispers, his hands rubbing against the leather of the jacket—his jacket—on your back. “No one’s gonna hurt you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” He presses a kiss to the side of your head. “Gonna keep you safe, okay?”

“O-okay,” you mutter. “Gonna k-keep you safe, too.”

Logan hums, the bassy timber of his voice filling your ears, calming your mind. “Don’t worry about me,” he pauses, one hand reaching up to the nape of your neck, rubbing circles into the sensitive skin there. “Just let me worry about you.”

“Always gonna worry about you,” you say, not backing down.

You can feel his heart beating against yours. “You don’t have to right now,” he soothes. “Let me take care of you.”

You don’t protest—don’t try to fight him this time. You let him pull you into his lap, let him hold you closer, let him play with the hair at the nape of your neck. You can feel his lips on the crown of your head. He’s so close—closer than he’s ever been before. He feels so good, so firm and solid underneath you, so steadfast and constant. He’s a lifeline, a necessity. A safe place—asylum.

It has always been him that you need, and you’d be a liar to say otherwise.

Logan finally breaks the silence. “What are you thinking about?” He asks. You, you think.

“Me?” What?

“Did I just…” you trail off. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Yeah, you did,” he husks, his hands lowering down your back, slipping under the jacket and your thin t-shirt to the bare skin underneath. His palms are warm, and his touch is tentative, hesitant. “This okay?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer, and Logan starts to draw patterns and shapes across your back. “Feels nice.” Your voice is soft and shaky as he explores your skin.

“I’ve been thinking about you too, you know,” he whispers at the shell of your ear. His nails drag across your back. You move your legs to straddle him. “You’re the only thing on my mind, princess.” He presses his forehead to yours as if to show you, to prove to you that he’s telling the truth. You shudder at the words, at the thought. He presses a chaste kiss to your nose, lowering his lips until they’re just centimeters from yours.

The world feels frozen. You’ve long forgotten you’re outside, the breeze cutting across the grass. You’ve forgotten about the stars twinkling above you. They’re nothing—just balls of heat burning out millions of miles away. You’ve forgotten about all the hatred you’re forced to face, all the variables and lives at stake in this stupid war. Your mind is calm. Everything is suddenly nothing.

Everything is him. Logan.

“Logan,” you mumble. It’s a plea, a prayer, a demand. And he knows exactly what you’re asking for as his name hangs in the air between the two of you.

His lips crash down onto yours, tasting you, savoring you. But it isn’t languid or slow—it’s rushed, frantic, starving, as if your world is ending; it very well could be. He’s pushing you down onto the grass, his muscular arms on either side of your head, caging you in underneath him.

“Wanted you this whole time,” he pants in between kisses. “Needed you, couldn’t stop thinking about you. Still can’t.” He pushes the jacket open with one of his hands and hitches your shirt up. He lowers himself onto his forearm as his nails drag up your stomach, settling just under your ribs. He spreads his palm, feeling the expanse of your skin, tracing your curves and the dips of your body.

“F-fuck,” you stutter, arching your back off the grass and into his chest, offering more of yourself to him.

He bites your lower lip and kisses the pain away. “You gonna let me take you right here?” He growls, his fingers playing with the hem of your bra. “Gonna let me fuck you outside, pretty girl?”

“Yes,” you whine, lifting your hips against his, feeling his erection straining in his jeans. “Need you, Lo.”

He curses under his breath as he sits up, his hands pawing at the leather jacket, tearing it from your body and casting it aside. You sit up too, keeping yourself close to him. He’s yanking at the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and over your head. He takes off his beater next, but you don’t get the chance to admire him. Everything is a blur, the throwing of clothes, the way he’s shoving you back down to the grass as his fingers unclasp your bra. The straps fall down your arms, and Logan slips it off the rest of the way.

He pauses, taking you in, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, lowering himself back down over you, balancing on one forearm as his free hand slides up your stomach, over your ribs, finally settling on your chest. He cups your tits, squeezing gently, his thumb brushing over one nipple and then the other.

“Perfect. You’re so goddamn perfect,” he praises, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, and then to your chin. He continues his trail down to your jaw, your collarbone, the center of your chest.

He takes a detour, his lips latching onto your nipple and biting lightly, his tongue flicking out and soothing the ache away. He kisses across the valley of your chest, bringing his mouth to the other side. He flits his tongue across your other nipple, and continues his trail down your stomach, peppering innocent kisses as he travels lower and lower.

He stops at the hem of your shorts, looking up at you under hooded eyes. You can see the lust, the desire, the need. “Please,” you whimper. And then he’s hastily unbuttoning and unzipping your shorts, wasting no time as he hooks his fingers into the waistbands of your shorts and panties, yanking them down your legs and throwing them carelessly into the grass.

Logan pushes your thighs open. “Keep your legs spread for me, sweetheart.” You can feel his breath on your clit. “Wanna taste you,” he rasps, kissing your core teasingly. “Wanna feel you come on my tongue.”

And then his tongue is pushing through your folds, lapping at your juices, all the way up to your clit. It’s already too much, your hips lifting off the grass. Logan brings his arm across your hips in response, keeping you down. “Stay,” he grunts, his voice vibrating against your heat. “Don’t know where you think you’re going, princess.” He’s looking up at you now. You can see the desperation and the hunger in his eyes.

He's starving for you.

He buries his face back into your cunt, swiping his tongue through your folds again before finally settling on your clit. He latches his lips around the bud, sucking harshly. He flicks his tongue out, drawing sweet, sacrilegious circles against your core.

His free hand climbs up your inner thigh, spreading your legs wider for him. His nails ghost across your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. He finds his way to your folds, spreading your slick, teasing your entrance. You moan his name as he presses your squirming hips down firmly into the ground. “Doing so good for me,” he breathes against your swollen clit. “Such a sweet fucking pussy.”

He sinks two fingers deep into your cunt, humming against you, savoring the taste of you. He pumps in and out, deeper every time. “F-fuck Lo,” you cry out, your hands grasping the blades of grass beneath you for purchase. “Feels so good.”

Your walls flutter around him, your muscles already contracting as he works you open. “That’s it, princess,” he huffs, his teeth grazing your clit as he sucks, hard. “Can feel you squeezing my fingers, can feel you getting close.”

“S-so close,” you choke out as he fucks his fingers into you. His pace becomes faster, relentless. He laps at you like he’s a man who has never eaten in his life.

“I know, sweetheart,” he soothes. “Come on my tongue, darlin’. Know you can do it.” He’s working you through it, swirling his tongue, flicking your clit, licking thick, hard stripes around the bud. His long fingers scissor inside you, rubbing against your walls deliciously. It’s all too much, but it’s just what you need. “Let go for me, pretty girl.”

You feel your walls contract as the fire in your belly spills. You chant his name—Logan. It’s a prayer—no—a promise. It hangs in the air as you come undone underneath him. His fingers pump in and out of you slowly, helping you ride out your orgasm. He carefully pulls out after a few more thrusts, but his face is still buried in your cunt, still lapping at your swollen, overstimulated clit.

“Lo,” you whimper, looking down at him. He looks up at you, his tongue licking one long stripe before he stops completely.

He presses a chaste kiss to your clit as he sits up and unbuckles his belt. “Gonna have to taste that pretty pussy again later, yeah?” He throws his belt to the side and unbuttons his jeans. He slides the zipper down, too, and hooks his fingers inside his jeans, shoving the denim and his boxers down his legs in one quick movement.

You can make out just how big he is in the moonlight. You swallow at the size of him. He lowers down onto you again, resting on his forearm, guiding his cock towards your entrance.

He captures your lips in a kiss as he nudges against you, teasing you, spreading your folds open for him. “Gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” he coos, kissing you again. “Gonna make you feel good.”

You wrap your arms around his back, bringing his chest flush to yours. “Need you, Logan. Need you inside me.”

“I know,” he whispers, nudging teasingly against you again. “I know.”

And then he’s shoving himself deep inside you, filling you up. You can feel his cock twitching, throbbing, searching for more of you. He pulls all the way out and buries himself back down to the hilt.

“F-fuck,” you curse, your nails digging into his shoulders, searching for support. “It’s s-so much. So big.”

He presses his forehead to yours. “I’ve got you, pretty girl,” he husks, setting a slow, easy pace, letting you adjust to the size of him. “Taking me so good.” He’s working you open with every pump, his cock rubbing against your walls and stretching you out.

Logan brings his free hand between your bodies to your still-swollen clit, stroking gently as he plunges deeper into you, hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You moan his name, your chest coming flush with his as you arch your back. The contact feels so nice—just what you needed. He’s fucking you out, pounding into you over and over again.

He's erasing every fear, every bad dream, every horrible vision you’ve ever had. It’s what he does to you. It’s just him—Logan—always has been and always will be.

“Such a good girl,” he grunts. “Letting me fuck you out here.” His hips snap against yours—building his pace, growing faster and deeper as he thrusts into you. You can feel yourself growing closer, crumbling underneath him. You can’t last much longer, your walls fluttering around him, squeezing him tightly.

He moans your name into your mouth, his tongue sliding across your bottom lip, tasting you. “You feel so good, pretty girl,” he groans, rocking into you. “So soft, so tight. Know you’re close.” He flicks your clit, and then circles roughly. “Wanna feel you come on my cock.”

“G-gonna…” You trail off, a bumbling mess, unable to finish your sentence as Logan fucks into you.

“I know, pretty girl,” He soothes. “I’m right here, I’ve got you. Come for me.”

You can’t hold back anymore. You can feel yourself letting go, your walls fluttering around him, taking him deeper, holding him tighter. Your orgasm washes over you, like sun stretching across your skin, like a fire spreading in a forest. It’s all too much, too good.

Logan isn’t far behind. You can feel his cock twitching deep inside you, his pace faltering, his thrusts becoming sloppier. His fingers leave your clit and travel up your body. His hand slides to the back of your neck, holding you gently as he pumps into you, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Wanna come inside you, pretty girl,” he moans, pulling you closer, taking you deeper.

You nod against his forehead. “P-please,” you stutter, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Don’t want you to leave yet.”

“F-fuck,” he growls, your words sending him over the edge as he spills inside you, filling you up. “You’ve idea,” he chokes, “how long I’ve fucking wanted you.” His thrusts slow as he rides out his orgasm, pumping in and out a few more times before pulling out of you.

He doesn’t break contact—doesn’t rush to get changed. He rolls onto his back and pulls you with him so that your head rests on his chest, your body tucked tightly into his. You can hear his heart beating deep inside—hear his shaky breaths become more stable. The air is no longer cold—the breeze a welcome contrast to the hot summer night air.

Your legs tangle together. Somewhere in the distance birds sing. A branch creaks. The wind whisks through the grass. You close your eyes and listen. The calm before the storm. This peace can’t last.

“Lo?” You call, breaking the silence.

He kisses the crown of your head. “I’m right here.”

“I know, but—”

It’s like he can read your mind. “I’m not going anywhere. No one is.” He tightens his arms around you, pulling you closer.

“I’m just scared to lose you, to lose all this.”

Logan presses another kiss to your head. “I know,” he murmurs. “But I’ve got you. Nothing’s gonna hurt you. I promise.”

Nothing’s gonna take you from my side.

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