#constantly being put into the least hopeful situations? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

joelsgoldrush · 1 month ago

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“you can use my skin to bury secrets in” | 6.8k

old man!logan x f!reader

SUMMARY: Saliva floods his mouth as you rise to your feet, looking down at him from above. Gracefully angelic, and yet— “I know what I’m asking for,” you continue, your voice descending to a low murmur that scratches pleasantly against some dark and remote corner of his brain. Then you lower yourself onto his lap, your thighs bracketing his waist. You repeat your question: “Can I help you?” OR Logan had always known your generosity would get him in trouble. WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni smut 18+ cursing. drinking. pining. mentions of alcohol. dirty talk. age gap (reader's in her late 20s). logan’s POV. angst/self-deprecation (he just needs a little loving). religious imagery. feelings. petnames. chauffeur!logan. oral sex (m receiving, tiny bit of f receiving). sort of dom!logan. doggy style. unprotected p in v. creampie. A/N: i could say i'm sorry for this, but i'm not. love love love this old man (#needthat). heavily inspired by the song "i know" by fiona apple. @lubdubology my partner in crime who keeps putting up with me, tysm!!! hope you all enjoy it <3

The line between being a good and bad person is thin. So thin, in fact, that Logan finds himself stepping back and forth across it constantly.

Rescuing a kitten from a tree? Good.

Punching a guy at a bar because he didn’t feel like being acknowledged? Bad.

Saving countless lives from mass destruction? Good—heroic, even.

But killing others to do it? Bad—condemnable, scum of the earth.

Where does that leave him? Which side has laid claim to his soul? He’s long accepted he’ll never see the pearly gates.

When the day comes that his body can no longer take it, and he only grows wearier, he’s pretty sure there’s a special place in hell with his name on it, etched in some grave awaiting to be filled.

Maybe Satan’s already counting down the days until he shows up at his door, who knows?

Yet, the more time passes by, the less afraid he is of what lies beneath the surface. He’s learned to coexist with the darkness, with the kind of pain and loneliness that would crush most men.

He doesn’t know how, but he survives it—the agony, the memories, the solitude that hits him from time to time.

And still, he doesn't lose himself entirely. He’s tempted, of course, to linger in the past—it’s always easier to drown there.

If he could go back, he knows he wouldn’t be alone in choosing that path. Some days, it feels like the only option.

But there’s no you in his past.

Logan inhales sharply when your tongue teases his slit, lapping at the precum pooling there. You hum at the taste, your hand resting on his bare thigh, fingers pressing into his skin. Your other hand lazily strokes the length of him, working the inches your mouth can’t take.

It’s clear you’re enjoying this. He can tell from the way your lashes flutter each time he thrusts a little deeper into your slick warmth. A win-win situation.

Letting a girl like you do this to him? That’s bad. Very bad. Red flags all around.

He meets you when he least expects it.

It’s a night like any other. He’s been driving for God knows how long. His joints ache from being in the same position for hours, and a part of his left knee he didn’t even know could hurt begins to throb.

It takes everything in him not to call it quits for the night, not to turn around and head home like a coward.

When exactly his life fell into this monotonous cycle, he’s not entirely sure, but it happened somewhere along the way. Now, it’s all the same: taking care of Charles during the day, catching an hour or two of sleep, then gripping the steering wheel with white-knuckled intensity, driving through endless stretches of road, resisting any attempts at small talk from the passengers he chauffeurs around.

They all try—every single one of them. They think if they can crack his harsh and bitter exterior, he’ll open up, reveal something, anything to make their eyes go wide.

But why? Why do they insist on breaking through his shell? What do they hope to discover?

No one really cares what’s going on in his mind. They just want to feel good about themselves—like they’ve been kind, amiable, empaths intending to fill some empty and obscure corner of their own lives.

Logan refuses to be the person who grants them that satisfaction.

You slip into the backseat of his limo, closing the door with a soft click. The night clings to you, the scent of the bar still lingering on your clothes. The music is loud enough for him to hear from outside, and he sees the people lined up at the door, willing to cause a fight if it means securing a good time.

There's a slight frown tugging at your features, your lips pulled downward, though your voice is still polite when you blurt out your address.

Five minutes into the drive and you haven’t said a word. Internally, he’s savoring the silence, so happy he could jump on one foot.

This kind of peace is rare. He’d grown unaccustomed to it. The tension in his shoulders eases as the city lights blur past.

But, all good things come to an end, because—

“How’s your night going?” you ask, fiddling with the seatbelt to have something between your fingers. Logan glances at you through the mirror, his eyes catching yours just for a moment, long enough to see the faint, apologetic smile you offer him. He allows himself a heartbeat more to take you in before focusing back on the road.

You click your tongue, a soft sound of disapproval ringing in his ears. “Well, thank you.”

He lets out a quiet huff, grinding his teeth together. “I’d prefer if we stayed like we were before,” he mutters, his voice rough and gravelly. His attention flickers between the passing cars and the occasional glimpses of you that startle him every time he searches for the mirror. Cars. You. Cars. You. You. You. “Y’know, not talking.”

“But that’s no fun at all,” you retort, sliding more to your left, nearly positioning yourself in the middle of the backseat. It gives him a better view of you—whether intentional or not, he can’t say.

The lipstick on your lips is still flawless. A sparkly necklace glints just above the neckline of your dress, and matching earrings dangle from your ears. Wrapped in a leather jacket, you look effortlessly alluring.

This entire sequence is enough to confirm that by no means is he going to heaven. Straight to hell, he thinks, allowing his gaze to trace over each detail of your frame. Straight to hell.

You don’t give up. “Your aura is off.”

That prompts a crooked smirk from him, a shake of his head as he mumbles under his breath: “M’sorry, my what’s off?”

“Your aura,” you clarify, motioning toward him with a light jingle from the many bracelets adorning your wrist. “It’s the energy that surrounds you.”

Logan snorts, amused for a brief second. “Well, you weren’t exactly a beacon of life when you got in either.”

You chuckle softly, leaning back against the seat and looking out the window. “I’m much better now.” A pause before you continue, your tone shifting, losing strength. “My date stood me up. Last-minute cancellation.”

It’s not anger, nor is it disappointment, that laces your words. You seem more resigned than anything else. He’d have expected you to sound at least a bit more conflicted.

“I should’ve seen it coming. He’d been asking to move it forward for a while.”

Does he look like the type of driver who doubles as a therapist? He wishes he could understand why you're telling him all this.

“That sucks,” he still responds, because even though he hasn’t gone out with a woman in what feels like centuries, he understands that sensation all too well. “First time meeting him?”

Listen up, everyone—he’s genuinely engaging in conversation with another soul. This doesn’t happen often.

He hears you hum, eyes still trained on the outside world. You sigh, crossing your arms over your torso. “Would you mind rolling your window up? I’m kind of freezing here.”

“I’d mind that very much,” he says, his voice carrying its usual gruff edge. He fights the urge to grin, but then you unbuckle your seatbelt, leaning in closer to him. Your body is wedged between his seat and the passenger’s, and he perceives your stare boring into his side profile. “Put your seatbelt back on.”

“You’re fucking with me.” Your finger taps his shoulder once, twice. “First, I get all dolled up for an idiot who bails on me, and now you have the nerve to make fun of me? Give me a break.”

Your eyes stay on him, a smile plastered on your face, anticipating any possible answer.

Crack, crack, crack—you intend to break through his shell, watching him from the front row, waiting for the moment it gives way.

Before you can say more, he cuts you off. “Seatbelt.”

It’s a command, an instruction, and you comply without hesitation.

Warmth pools and stirs low in his gut as he notes how quickly you obey him.

Would you still look at him like that if you knew the blood he’s scrubbed off his hands? The flesh that his claws have shredded? The names of the lives he’s taken?

Would your warm gaze turn cold, filled with dread instead of curiosity?

Maybe this is hell. Are you the Devil in disguise, tempting him to cross a line he won’t be able to come back from?

A few minutes later, he pulls up to your building. A really nice one, he notes. You announce you live on the sixth floor. He doesn’t need to know that, does he? Why would you tell him that? Why give that piece of information to a complete stranger?

You linger in the backseat, as though you’re expecting him to turn and look at you. And he does, though not for the reason you might expect. “You got everything?”

Eager and full of life, you nod, clutching your purse to your chest. You avert your gaze to read his ID tag, the one that contains his personal details. “James?”

“Glad you can read,” he utters, pulling out a small bottle of liquor from under the seat. He drains it all in one go, savoring the fleeting burn as it slides down his throat, which is enough to keep him going. “C’mon, kid. I already charged you.”

“You drink while you drive?”

“Keeps me entertained,” he says dryly. It’s the only thing he knows how to do. Raising the empty bottle in your direction, he arches a brow. “Goodnight, darlin’. Leave me a good review on your way out.”

You roll your eyes at him, silent as you exit the vehicle, closing the door behind you. While fumbling for your keys, four words escape your mouth. Casual yet devastating, they ruin him: “I’ll see you around.”

For a couple of days, you don’t bother him again. Bother—notice the implication of the verb in question.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t think of you after that drive. Each time his phone buzzes, a small, restless part of him hopes it’s you, asking for his services, wanting him to be the one you seek out.

And it happens. The best things seem to occur when the moon hangs high and bright.

You: Hi.

He stares at the message, recognition washing over him. He knows it’s you; he can see the other texts you exchanged that night he took you home.

You: Are you working tonight?

You’ve got to be kidding him.

Logan: Why are you texting me?

He types the words with frustration, his thumb hovering over the screen longer than usual.

You: Why are you answering me?

Oh, you’re smart.

Logan: Take my advice. Talk to a guy your own age.

You: Damn. Already jumping to conclusions. I was just going to ask you if you wanted to have a drink with me.

Logan: I’m busy.

You: Well, what time do you get off?

Logan: I work all night.

You: Can’t even make a quick stop? I swear it won’t take you more than twenty minutes.

An impulse to throw his phone out the window surges within him, but he manages to restrain himself.

Then, as if on cue, the device vibrates again—of course, it’s you.

You: The drinks are on me. Let me know if you change your mind.

Do you think he’s going to let you pay for him? Absolutely not.

What surprises him more than the message is how easily he remembers your address. It appears to be ingrained in his mind.

He cancels his next trip, scheduled for ten minutes from now, his new destination being your building.

Once he pulls up, he does what feels most natural: he honks. Multiple times. Maybe he’s lucky and you’ll tell him to fuck off.

But you don’t. You’re laughing as you make your way over to the limo, sliding into the backseat in the same way you did a week ago. Your plan had succeeded—you had him exactly where you wanted.

Far from hiding it, you make it evident, obvious. Your heartbeat thrums in the air, and Logan can hear it loud and clear, like the bass in one of those funky songs he likes.

There’s no room for mistakes. He won’t deny it. Even if the feeling is mutual, he can’t shake the idea that he’s doing something wrong.

In his eyes, you’re the forbidden fruit—irresistible, the ultimate temptation known to humankind, camouflaged in the fur of a pretty woman.

You, his paradise on earth, could only lead to one thing: a longing for a chance with you, which he should never be granted in the first place.

He’s diving headfirst into disgrace, and the more he realizes it, the worse it feels. If he were to be scolded like a child, maybe he’d feel relieved, but he’s no kid. He’s a grown-ass man who should be able to resist.

Yet, self-restraint is like sand slipping through his fingers—never lasting long enough.

“You came.” Astonishment. Uncertainty. Amusement. Blinking your eyes at him, you sit very upright, and you don't even bother fastening your seatbelt. “Honestly? I thought you were going to block me.”

I can’t, he thinks. I wouldn’t be able to. I’m not that strong.

“What happened this time? Another failed date?” he inquires, still not starting the car. A look of perplexity appears on your features, puzzled about why he’s not moving. “Ain’t you forgetting something?” He tugs on his own seatbelt for emphasis, the fabric snapping back into place against his coat.

Once again, you follow his lead. “I don’t need to get stood up to want to see you,” you say, placing your hand on his shoulder for balance—or so he tells himself. It takes him all his willpower not to collapse right then and there. “Besides, I’m not bad company. I’ve been told I can be pretty funny.”

“I see…” he trails off, catching your gaze through the rearview mirror, not shocked in the slightest to find you waiting for him to look back. “Where to?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, you should. You invited me.”

How easy it is to make your chest rumble with laughter, the genuine sound bubbling up, pure and unrestrained. He feels like some amateur comedian who has just realized his real passion is to cause this type of response in others.

Except, it’s not just anyone’s laughter he insists on provoking—it’s yours, and yours alone.

An unsettling sensation envelops him the second you retrieve your hand, not before squeezing his shoulder in a friendly manner. “There’s a bar I go to with my friends sometimes,” you suggest after a beat, shoving your phone in the pocket of your jacket. “We could try that one.”

The moment he steps inside, regret washes over him. Why is everyone here under forty? He feels ancient, like fucking Fred Flintstone.

A fossil out of place, meant to dwell in the shadows, not in a scene like this.

When he freezes in the middle of the bar, your fingers intertwine with his, tugging him along, and he follows after you like a lost puppy. The only thing he’s missing is the leash.

You’re met with his quirked eyebrows as you peer into his eyes over your shoulder, a toothy grin threatening to shake the floor beneath his feet. “You know, people usually sit down before they start getting shit-faced.”

“I’m not getting drunk tonight.” Logan exhales a deep breath, trying to hide his discomfort, his eyes scanning the room. “And neither are you,” he practically yells in your ear trying to make himself heard above the pounding music and incessant chatter. He wonders if you even hear him at all.

The two of you eventually settle at the counter, drinking in silence. Logan half-expects one of your comments to pierce through the quiet, but you delight in proving him wrong.

Instead, your head sways gently to the rhythm of the song playing in the background, and you take a trial sip of your beer.

He’s acutely aware of the stares from the rest of the patrons. He can pretend to be oblivious, but the weight of several pairs of eyes burning holes into the back of his neck doesn’t go unnoticed.

Being watched has never been his favorite pastime, and somehow, it feels even more uncomfortable with you by his side.

He knows what those looks imply, can nearly taste the hidden implications behind each fleeting glance.

What’s a girl like you doing with a man like him? A question that makes no sense.

Does he have money? A well-endowed reputation? Did he recently inherit any properties?

Are you truly that desperate for human contact?

Is your bed so cold that you decide to go for the first guy who can string ten words together?

Logan doubts whether this whole experiment is part of the community service you must be doing. Maybe he should look up your name online to see if any criminal records come to the surface.

Now that he takes a moment to ponder it, you certainly fit the mold of the criminal type. The kind who gets what she wants when she wants it, leaving a trail of intrigue on her wake.

His fingers circle the glass so tightly he fears it might shatter into a million shards. You notice his tension, nudging his arm with yours, aiming to meet his eyes.

When you do (because, as he said, criminals have their own ways), you smile, and he internalizes that gesture as something familiar, something he feels he’s grown used to. Something rankled in his memory.

It’s as if he’s known you for a lifetime.

“Thank you for coming,” you say softly, and he may be going down the path of hallucinations, but your attention remains a little too long on his lips. Then, just as quickly, it flickers back to the rest of his face, and you lean back to drink from your beer once more.

Straight to hell, he thinks, tasting the remnants of whiskey on his tongue, for ever daring to believe himself worthy of even a moment of your precious time.

You’re probably the first person to have his full, undivided attention. And that’s… well, that’s saying something.

Most days, you’re pretty talkative, a steady stream of conversation, your words pouring out in an endless flow.

You tell him about your family, your career, that pet of yours that died when you were six years old. You mention a friend you no longer speak to, and the events that led to the downfall of your friendship.

There’s also that dish from your all-time favorite restaurant, the one you buy at least once a week because it never fails to comfort you.

Nonstop, you talk and talk, and Logan doesn’t mind one bit. Soon, he finds himself becoming an active listener—asking follow-up questions, chuckling at your jokes, even when they’re not funny at all.

He sincerely cares about what you have to say.

This whole situation with you is beyond his comprehension. Before he realizes it, you start wanting to spend more time with him.

Sometimes, you ride along in the passenger seat while he drives aimlessly through the city.

Sometimes, you invite him over, cook a meal, and he always takes the leftovers with him, as if a part of you goes with him when he leaves.

Sometimes, you come over to his place, and the roles reverse—you’re the one with the mic, asking the questions, fully aware that you’re treading on holy ground.

Logan’s got a sign on his forehead that reads ‘Stop: do not enter.’ It’s rough around the edges, hardened by the years, all capital letters in stark blank ink. But in the end, you just take the sign and set it aside.

He never goes into too much detail. Not because he doesn’t trust you—it’s just that there’s too much to unpack, and you don’t need to know all of it. You’ll be better off not carrying the garbage he does.

Yet, you’ve got him by the throat, encouraging him to cough up disjoined pieces of his life, bits of his day, his thoughts, his feelings. It sounds stupid to him, but you make him feel alive.

You never judge him, never flinch when he brings up stories from his past. As he sits at your table one afternoon, you look at his hands, his claws fully extended, and you don’t shy away. You rub the pad of your thumb across the rough skin of his knuckles, right where the adamantium tears through his flesh.

You don’t care that he’s a mutant, that he’s killed people. You don’t try to deny who he is or what he’s done. Oddly enough, you just wish to be by his side, staring off into the void with him.

“But why?” he asks, partly flattered, partly frustrated. This could be compared to learning a new sport from scratch—he can’t figure you out, can’t understand why you haven’t run the other way yet.

He likes your company, though he’s always bracing himself for the inevitable day you find a better hobby and leave.

Your reasoning defies logic, and he’s afraid that at any moment, you’ll grasp the gravity of your choices.

Almost as if you could feel the turmoil brewing in his mind, you simply say: “You’re nice to be around.”

Nice. Nice. Nice. He’d cackle if he were alone. That word reverberates through him. When was the last time someone called him nice?

Bad-tempered, sure.

A pain in the ass? Definitely.

But nice? Not a term people employed to describe him.

It’s a quality reserved for you, with your endless charisma and kind heart, but not for a man of his kind.

He’s nothing more than a chauffeur, a driver, someone who does and says what’s necessary to survive. Does that make him nice?

When he tells you he’s probably going to hell, you don’t try to make him feel better. Anyone else in your position might try to soothe him, to offer some hollow reassurance.

Your intention isn’t to change him, for him to pretend to be something he’s not. “Then I’ll meet you there,” you mutter, your shiny eyes searing into his. Under the table, your hand finds his, tender fingers grazing over his knuckles, and for once, he doesn’t pull away.

Could it be that an afterlife catching fire doesn’t sound so bad after all?

As much as he likes to admit how easily you can shift his mood, today is not one of those days.

He’s had a nightmare—nothing new, but this one had been… different. The empty bottle on the nightstand hadn’t been of any help; it never does when they visit him in his sleep.

The ghosts of those who used to be his friends, his family, tiptoe around his dreams in the form of shadows.

Blood. Screams. Shouts of his name. He can’t save them all. Walking through the wreckage, he dodges the bodies of those he couldn’t protect, the knot in his throat tightening with every step, not allowing him to breathe.

Wherever he turns, there’s death, destruction. Sadness. Did he save them all?

It’s always the same routine. He wakes up, screaming, chest aching from the effort. His lungs burn, and he has to remind himself that the limbs attached to him are his own and not the remnants of an immobile corpse.

Sweat clings to his skin, pooling at his temples and nape. He wipes it away with the back of his hand, rubbing at the soreness in his neck.

His phone rings somewhere in the distance, pulling him from his dizzy state. He scrambles to his feet, accepting the call just before it hits voicemail.

It's you. Despite it being late, he swears he feels the gentle kiss of the sun over his brow. Your sweet voice chases away the lingering shadows of his dreams, replacing the bitter taste in his mouth with something real—a reason to get up, to start moving.

He holds onto every second of the brief call, replaying those thirty seconds in his head as he steps into the shower. When the cold water shocks his system, it pulls him fully back to consciousness. He has to get ready.

Even though you insist on getting a taxi, he refuses. He doesn’t mind the drive. His gas tank does, his wallet maybe, but Logan? He just doesn’t.

At the end of the day, he’s protective by nature, and who knows what kind of men are roaming the streets at night?

God forbid they’re anything like him—eager to prompt a smile from you, trying too hard to impress you. He arrives at the conclusion that he’d rather lose fuel and money if it means orbiting around you for longer.

You make him feel better, and tonight, he needs it more than ever. He needs you.

(Now he’s driving. He honks five times when he pulls up to your building. You get on the limo, giggling as you say: “My neighbors must hate you.” He grins. You kiss him on the cheek. Subtle. Not the first time. Still, it doesn’t get old. He feels the faint residue of lip gloss on his skin. He doesn’t wipe it off.)

Not in the mood to cook, you declare as you step into his place. The mouth-watering aroma of the Chinese food you bought fills the air, but when he reaches for the bags, you insist that he sit and relax.

Sure, he can take a seat. But to expect him to relax with you around, playing this intricate game? That’s simply impossible. You’re asking for too much. He’s a player at heart, drawn to the thrill of the chase, and he will play along.

What seems inconceivable is the expectation that he can act as if nothing is happening between these four walls.

His attempts to focus on you are futile, as his mind betrays him tonight. All he hears spilling from your lips is pure and plain gibberish. Your very presence is no longer enough to anchor him.

Already immune to your charm, Logan eats his noodles, occasionally nodding when your voice rises at the end of a sentence, indicating a question.

But he nearly chokes on his drink the moment he registers your serious expression, having never witnessed you like this before.

“Are you even here?” you ask, shoving your food aside with a swift motion of your wrist.

What should he answer? What is it that you want to hear? Of course! I’m here, listening to you. It’s a delightful night. Should I start by telling you about my most recent nightmare? Quite the entertainment!

There’s a shake of his head as he lowers his gaze, escaping your concerned expression. “M’sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty.” You tug your chair forward, claiming a piece of his personal space. You know he doesn’t mind. “Want to talk about it? Did something happen?”

“My brain is just… off today.”

“Many thoughts at the same time.” Not a question. Have you completely figured him out?

“Yeah.”

He remains still, dragging his plastic fork across the now-cold steamed veggies, which have lost their appeal.

How amusing—your knees bump against his, drawing his attention. “Can I help you?” It’s new, the breathy tone you’re using, a whisper of agitation weaving through your calm demeanor.

“Can you erase my memory?” he shoots back, attempting to smirk through the wave of memories that flash behind his eyelids. When he looks into your eyes, the siren in his head blares.

Your pupils are dilated, blown wide, chest rising and falling rapidly. Sweaty palms that you wipe on your jeans. Tongue darting out to lick your lips. Your heartbeat accelerates, drumming wildly like the fluttering of a hummingbird’s wings.

He hasn’t been with a woman in ages, but he knows how they react when they see something they like—or, in this case, someone.

“Logan.” His name rolls off your tongue once more, tinged with an unmistakable need. The thought of checking his temperature dances through his mind, but the heaviness in his limbs roots him in place. He feels feverish. “I want to help you.”

Oh, no. No, no, no, no—

“What—what are you on, sweetheart?” Get up. Find your keys. Drive her home. “You don’t even know what you’re sayin’.”

Saliva floods his mouth as you rise to your feet, looking down at him from above. Gracefully angelic, and yet— “I know what I’m asking for,” you continue, your voice descending to a low murmur that scratches pleasantly against some dark and remote corner of his head. Then you lower yourself onto his lap, your thighs bracketing his waist. You repeat your question: “Can I help you?”

He’s no longer in control of his actions. His right hand crawls up your knee, palming the fabric of your pants. It’s numbing: a lapful of you, your rich smell, your quickened pulse.

Tempting. So fucking tempted to take you right now, just like this, without the need for words. Your bodies can communicate in a language of their own, one that transcends spoken phrases.

I want you, he lets you know through the way he gropes your breasts over your shirt, squeezing them together. He’s always been good with his hands. But what the hell am I supposed to do with a sweet thing like you?

His patience teeters on the edge of a precipice. “Tell me what you want.”

“I asked you first.”

“You’re gonna pretend you don’t know the answer?” He thrusts into the air, grinding against your clothed core, and you close your eyes. He’s rock hard beneath you, the bulge in his jeans shockingly obscene, bordering on grotesque. “We both know what I want, but I’m no telepath, baby. Need you to speak up.”

Twisting the locks of hair at his nape, you press your lips to his neck. “I want to make you forget, to focus on this moment. I want you to live in the present, Logan.” A bite on his earlobe sends shivers down his spine, and he grips your hips with a primal growl. “I can do whatever you want. Just tell me. Tell me, and I’ll do it, please.”

Please? He’s spiraling. Please? That’s it—he’s doing it. He’ll grant you your plea, which aligns perfectly with his own desires.

Once his back meets the mattress in his room, you get to work. With delicate precision, you pull down his pants, sliding his boxers off until only his thick thighs and the crown of short curls adorning his cock remain in sight. Your fingers tremble slightly before you wrap them loosely around his length, and it springs to life in your grasp.

Your gaze pierces into his, mirroring the intensity of his own. But something holds you back, prompting you to reach for his hand.

At that moment, it all clicks into place. Logan urges your head down onto him, and he’s welcomed by the slick warmth you provide.

Indeed, he’s very much alive.

“That’s it. That’s—fuck. There you go.”

His fingers dig into the mattress, clutching the cotton sheets, stopping himself from thrusting into your mouth. It’s not that he doesn’t want to—God, he does—but tonight, he’s on his best behavior.

He wipes the trail of drool from your chin, smearing it gently across your cheek, his thumb lingering as he watches your nostrils flare with a strained, muffled gasp.

Bringing his thumb to his mouth, he tastes the wetness on it the same way you’re sucking him: greedily, without any trace of mercy.

This proves I’m going to hell, he thinks, enraptured by the sight of his cock disappearing between your parted lips. Straight to hell.

You draw him back to the present, nuzzling your face against his thigh, your humid breath teasing his thick shaft, pulling him from a deep reverie. Your glossy eyes roam, exploring until they find his, and you gift him an authentic smile. Wrecked and blissed out, it’s as if the lights are on, but no one’s truly home.

He would’ve never guessed how much you reveled in sucking cock, radiating enthusiasm with each of your movements.

“Am I doing it okay?” you wonder aloud, hovering over the tip, swirling your tongue around the velvety head. He’s no fool, and neither are you; deep down, you know you’re doing more than just okay. Actually, you’re giving him the best blowjob of his long, long life.

Each panting, airy praise he huffs fuels your eagerness, making you even more receptive to his desires as the words slip past his lips.

“Fuckin’ amazing, honey. Got me so hard, y’see?” His tone is heavily charged with carnality, gripping himself and smacking the tip against your mouth, the wet sound echoing like music to his ears.

He pulses against your tongue, and you seize the opportunity to trace the thin veins scattered along his length. Gulping, with his gaze fixed on you, Logan notices how you’re still wearing your clothes, wiggling your hips against the mattress, rubbing your thighs together to get something in return. “Are you wet?”

Humming against him, you suck in shaky breath.

“Words.”

“I’m—I’m wet,” you rasp, voice hoarse. You try to guide him into your mouth and fail miserably, because his grip only tightens, stroking himself instead. “Logan,” you keen, stretching your neck in a silent plea, “don’t be mean.”

“Not mean. Just enjoyin’ myself,” he replies, pulling the foreskin back to expose the head, arching his eyebrows. His fingers curl around your chin, drawing your face nearer to his girth, fascinated by how your eyes flutter shut the more you surrender to the pleasure. “C’mon. Be polite.”

Blame him for it—he believes he’ll never get tired of this game.

“Please.” You whisper, returning to your begging while tenderly rolling his balls, staring at him through your lashes. And then you say it again: “Please.”

Your gaze burns a hole through his crumpled heart. He lets you have it, eager to give whatever you may ask him for. You dive back into it, engulfing his length and bobbing your head up and down with fervor. Hushed whines escape your lips, savoring another bead of his precum.

Logan almost loses it as you hollow your cheeks, instinctively cradling the back of your head. “Easy, baby. M’not going anywhere. Take your time.”

Whenever he feels himself approaching that long-awaited release, he forces his mind to conjure thoughts that will stall his impending orgasm.

The water stains from flooding on the walls.

The supermarket list.

The rising price of gas.

The—

“Fuck. Slow down,” he groans, utterly captivated by the way you point your tongue to draw imaginary patterns along his cock, seemingly memorizing every detail. “Don’t go too hard on me, remember?”

You mumble something under your breath, and at first, he can’t quite make it out. “What is it?”

“I said I want you to fuck me.”

Under no circumstances is he surviving this night.

“Really, doll?” Logan seeks the reassurance he desperately needs, fearing that this is all a dream from which he’ll awaken the moment he properly touches you. “You sure you want this old man to fuck you?”

You’re a rambling mess, murmuring Yes, Logan, please, until he maneuvers you to lie on his chest, his glistening cock sliding against your clothes, leaving a trail of dark spots. A whimper dies on your tongue as you brush your lips together, your hot breath enveloping him. “Give me a kiss at least.”

Tilting your head up, he connects his mouth to yours, growling as he detects the dull, sour tang of what must be him. He sucks your bottom lip, hardly aware of what his hands are doing until he shifts your positions, pinning you down.

Logan tugs at your clothes, peeling them away with urgency, his fingers dancing over your nipples until you’re grinding against his thigh, quivering beneath him. With a nip at your damp skin, his eyes flutter open as he studies your expression, casting you a glance that seeks your permission.

A ripple of desire courses through him when you dutifully turn over beneath him, pressing your face further into the pillow. He runs his knuckles along the curve of your ass, his throat going dry as you follow after his touch, arching your body in response.

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, he licks a long, slow stripe up your wet folds, keeping his tongue flat against your clit for a brief moment. Your arms give out and you stumble forward, stuttering as you mewl his name, fully consumed by the feeling.

So he does it again, and again, and again, flicking the sensitive bud, even though you’re already beyond soaked. It’s a pleasure he indulges in simply because he can.

Straight to hell, he thinks, coating his length with your arousal, teasing your entrance while pushing in only the tip. That motion alone is enough to make him draw a trembling breath before he continues, gradually feeding you his cock, inch by inch.

Straight to hell, the voice in his head utters as he buries himself to the hilt deep within your body, his heavy balls resting against your ass.

Like an intruder in your territory, he’s free to do as he pleases, and you let him have his way with you.

If only this moment could stretch into infinity—he longs for time to relent and never draw to a close.

What will happen after? Will you spend the night? Does he—

“L-Logan,” you mumble, having adjusted to his size. You rock back into him, impaling yourself even more on his cock. “Please, move.”

The pace he establishes is brutal. Your warm, inner walls exquisitely massage him, and the earth as he knows it stops spinning. Fire pools low in his abdomen, his hands holding you by the flesh of your hips to keep you anchored, each thrust driving you closer to the headboard with an intoxicating urgency.

“You wanted it from the very start, didn’t you?” He doesn’t know if a response will ever come, but these kinds of thoughts are impossible to contain. He’s just a simple man, powerless against the allure of a tight cunt. “Just got in my car and knew it would end like this?”

His next thrust punches a whine out of your lungs. Even as you clench around him, stuffed and filled to the brim, you beg for him to fuck you harder. He would’ve laughed at you were he able to catch his breath.

With a more deliberate rhythm, he rolls his hips, jackhammering your most sensitive spot, pulling you closer as he wraps an arm around you. When his fingers find your clit, drawing slippery circles, a cry escapes you, and your body merges with the mattress under you.

Your release takes him by surprise, urging him to continue as you reach back, encouraging him to chase his own climax. He knows all too well the struggle of bringing you to this point without succumbing to his pleasure too soon. Your nails graze along his thigh, leaving delicate marks in their wake, and somehow, the passion and bliss he’s been nurturing ignites into a fiery crescendo.

Shortly after, he goes completely rigid inside you, pressing his forehead against your back as he bites down on your shoulder to muffle his groans. His hand squeezes your breast tightly, riding out his high, blood buzzing in his ears, continuing to spill into you. You spam around him, milking him until the last drop of his seed, his release painting your insides with his warmth.

Logan tucks you under his chin as his vision returns to clarity. You nose his jaw, your fingers softly tracing the contours of his beard. He pulls you closer into his chest, gliding his hands up and down your back.

Half a minute of dreadful silence, then: “Can I stay?”

Oh, yes—pillow talk. He’s not great at this either. Despite that, his eyes soften, snapping to your face.

Logan pauses for a moment. “Sure,” he retorts, dragging his fingers along your shoulder blades. He’s a one-word kind of guy. Just perfect.

Tell her you like her. Tell her you don’t want this to be a casual fling. Tell her it’s more than just sex for you.

Or maybe don’t. Get ahold of yourself, will you?

“Logan?” you ask, resting your palm against his heart.

“What is it?”

“I know.”

You do?

Try as he might, he can’t deny it. He might care about you more than he ever realized.

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! <3

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wannabeschyulersister · 10 months ago

Text

lovelorn and nobody knows

Sometimes it felt like you had the words “I’m in love with my boss” written on your forehead in big capital letters.

As much as you tried to hide it, you couldn’t help but marvel at him. He was truly amazing at his craft and seeing him so passionate made you want to do it as well.

There were times that he acted a little like a jerk but he’d redeemed himself recently. Thanks to Sydney.

And to Claire.

You were surprised when you learned he was seeing someone. He brought Claire around when the restaurant was practically falling apart. It was such a weird moment. You physically could feel the awkwardness in the air.

She seemed really nice but part of you still disliked her just because she could call Carmy hers.

You avoided being around them as much as possible. It hurt just looking at the way he smiled at her.

Every part of your being wished that were you.

You wished you were the one he confided in after a long day at the Bear. You wished that you were the one he walked around the city with hand in hand. You wished you were the one that had his heart.

You felt like a lovesick fool.

Instead of subjecting yourself to seeing the happy couple, you started to back out of any group activities unless it was absolutely necessary.

The group would often go and get drinks at a nearby bar at least once a week. You stopped going as soon as you heard Claire was a regular now. People would ask if you were going and you always had a lie ready to go.

As much as you loved working at The Bear, you knew that it would probably be best if you removed yourself from the situation. It hurt every time you had to be around Carmen and Claire. You didn’t want to constantly put yourself in heartache.

There was a popular Italian restaurant across town that needed a sous. You had a friend of a friend that recommended you. It was the fresh start that you needed.

When you got the job, it was bittersweet. You should’ve been happier than you were.

So, you drafted up a letter of resignation, took a deep breath, and walked into Carmen’s office after closing. He was busy looking at an invoice when you knocked softly on the doorframe to make yourself known.

He looked at you and smiled a little, “Hey, stranger. We missed you last night.”

“Yeah, sorry I missed it. I uh- have something to give you.” You wanted to get this part over with.

“Yeah? What’s that?” He reached over and grabbed the letter that you handed him. You hoped he didn’t notice the slight shakiness of your hand.

You didn’t answer him because you didn’t trust your voice in that moment. Carmen quickly read through your letter and you watched the expression change on his face.

“What the hell is this? You’re leavin’?” Carmen stood up from his seat and placed your letter down.

“I got a job opportunity that I couldn’t say no too. I’m sorry that this puts you in a situation where you are short staffed but I’m giving you a two weeks notice.” You explained to him.

“I don’t understand. You’re happy here, aren’t you? D-did something happen’ that I’m not aware of?” Carmen questioned.

Yeah, you fell in love with someone else.

You shook your head, “No, nothing happened. I just think I’m ready for a new challenge.”

Carmen didn’t look like he bought your lie. “(Y/n), you don’t think that I’ve noticed that you’re distant and-and you haven’t been coming out with all of us?”

Shit.

You’d hoped that maybe he was so busy with Claire that he hadn’t noticed you slipping away from the group at all.

“I’ve just been busy with other things.” You lied again.

“What’s going on?” He questioned.

“Nothing is going on, Carmen.”

He crossed his arms against his chest and it took everything in you not to stare and drool. Even when you tried to be strong, his biceps made you feel weak.

“I don’t believe you.” He stated.

“That’s fine. I just wanted to do the respectable thing and give you an adequate notice.”

Carmen stared at you and it made you feel like he could read your mind. Like he knew the exact reason on why you were leaving.

“I don’t want you to leave, (Y/n). I think you’re amazing and- and you have a bright future in this industry. I think it’s a mistake.”

Your chest ached at his kind words. “I’m just ready for something new.”

He sighed and looked away from you as someone knocked on the door. You turned and saw Claire holding a takeout bag, “Thought I’d surprise you with dinner.”

“Now isn’t a good time, Claire.” Carmen told her.

She looked disappointed, “Am I interrupting something?”

You quickly shook your head, “No, the conversation is over. Have a good night.”

“(Y/n), wait!” Carmen called out to you but you left his office without another look back.

Even thought it killed you to walk away from him, you had to put yourself first.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x (y/n)#carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto #the bear x reader #the bear imagine #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto

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doodlingbiscuit · 3 months ago

Text

Bite Me

Hey, first drabble I've finished! I have many more in the works, don't worry! :]

Rise!Donnie x Reader

Words: 3,760

Warnings: Biting, Slightly suggestive content, Mentions of blood Please let me know if I need to add more content warnings! I am still learning!

Donnie’s eyes trace over the curve of your shoulders, catching onto the slight muscle shifts as you reach up to put away the dishes. He can feel the need rising and tries to shove it down. He knows that it’s only a matter of time until he gives in to it.

Donnie has never had a feeling like this before, being the least likely of the brothers to give in to his more yokai urges. Sure, hissing and growling came to him instinctually and was natural for him to do, but biting? He felt like that was something that he could not allow himself to give into. This was just another blaring reminder that although he walked and talked like one, he was not human.

He almost considered locking himself up just in case these instincts delved into something deeper, he was quite familiar with the concept of other mutants becoming slave to their more animalistic side. But just before he definitively decided one way or the other, you had persuaded him to go out to a local cafe with him. He came out warily, expecting to want to bite every human he came across, but interestingly enough the instinct had dissipated entirely. He had celebrated internally, maybe just a bit of fresh air was what he needed to push the urges aside, he had been spending too much time in the sewers lately. Maybe it was just the sewer fumes finally getting to his head.

Yet as soon as he caught a glimpse of you through the window, he could feel the urge to bite come back full force. His eyes slide over to another human, testing out the limits of what he was feeling. As soon as you’re out of his eyesight, the lessens but sure enough when he turns back to look at you, there it is again.

Although he prefers to use his mouth as a metaphorical weapon, there were times that he had been desperate enough to use it in the literal sense. He had bitten and chewed his way out of many situations before, often getting out of them by quite literally the skin of his teeth. He had bitten to hurt; to wound, but the way he wanted to bite you was something else entirely.

He had never wanted to bite someone so gently before.

Donnie hadn’t told you about this urge of his, feeling too embarrassed to even bring it up. He didn’t even want you to know about it, hoping the feeling would pass without ever having to get you involved in it. This whole thing was so stupid, he was better than this. He had seen your shoulders before, it wasn’t like it was anything new, he had known you for years before ever getting into a relationship with you. But now every time he caught a glimpse of your shoulder, he oogled you like a middle school Victorian boy. This was surely just another instinct messing with his head and Donnie being Donnie could surely fight it off on his own. But after two weeks, it persisted.

He was constantly chewing on the inside of his cheek nowadays, an old stim that had come back in full force these past few weeks. The mindless chewing satisfied him to a point but apparently, it wasn’t enough.

You were both chilling on the couch watching some mindless video essay on the projector. The urge to bite was lessened when he held you like this but it still lingered in the back of his mind, and he was unconsciously chewing on the inside of his cheek to try to stave it off. You were cuddled perfectly into him and he was content to lay with you for hours. Glancing down to admire you in his arms, he goes still. Your jacket had slipped oh so very slightly down, revealing the entirety of your shoulder to him.

In his realization of what he was looking at, the urge grew tenfold, and in his momentary loss of control, his teeth sliced clean through the inside of his cheek. He only realizes that he has bitten hard enough to draw blood when the metallic tang seeps into his mouth.

Immediately catching onto the way he had frozen underneath you, you turn to him slightly in curiosity. Not expecting his wide eyes to be staring back at you.

“Are you… okay?” your eyes flick back and forth between his.

Donnie just stares at you for a moment before shaking his head slightly, trying to clear his thoughts. He nods sharply once and moves to get up, softly shifting you off of him.

You’re left to sit there in confusion, watching as he briskly walks to the bathroom.

He shuts the door quietly behind him before quickly making his way over to the sink. Spitting into it, he watches the blood slowly trail down the side and into the drain. He drags a hand down his face and comes to the reality that biting his cheek wouldn’t work forever.

This was not good.

So Donnie tried to compensate in other ways.

He tried buying chew toys, something that he knew had helped Raph before, keeping them hidden around the lair when he felt the urge to bite you. Donnie felt a little foolish ducking away from you and going to bite a chew toy instead, but… it was better than hurting you.

You had caught onto his slipping away from you and he could see how it concerned you. Amazing, perfect you, had immediately thought that it was something that you had done. He was quick to shut down those thoughts, although he wasn’t entirely truthful as to why it wasn’t you. Unfortunately, his lack of an explanation still made you suspicious of him. He had the conversation with you almost two weeks ago now and you were still zeroed into every slight change in his demeanor. He was now more wary to sneak off in your presence.

Which led him to this moment; chewing his cheek raw as he fiddled with scrubbing a particularly dirty plate. There was no way he could escape without immediately alerting you; doing the daily chore of washing dishes had become a way for you both to decompress after a long day and it had become a habit you both had come to enjoy. While he washed the dishes, you would dry them and put them together. Leaving now would surely make you think that something was wrong and that would start a conversation about Donnie’s behavior… and yeah, he didn’t want to get into all of that.

Between keeping up a conversation with you and washing dishes, he can feel his control slipping away from him and chewing his cheek was, again, not helping. He stares into the soapy water, battling with himself before allowing himself a glance towards you.

Across from him in the kitchen, you’re putting away a stack of glasses in the particularly high cabinet, one that you could only reach if you stood on your tippy toes. You take a glass from the stack and then place it up onto the shelf one by one. In the midst of your movement, there your jacket goes again, loosely hanging off of your shoulders.

He bites down on his cheek a little harder, the pain from when he cut himself before breaking himself out of his reverie. Donnie sucks in a breath and forces his eyes away from you.

He’s only able to focus on the dishes again for mere moments before his eyes drag themselves back over to you. Before he realizes what he’s doing, his hands slip out of the gloves and he’s already halfway across the kitchen and out reaching toward you.

Hands sliding across your waist, he pulls you slightly against him before leaning down into your space, his head hovering mere inches over your shoulder.

Pausing to put away the dishes, you crook your head slightly to him.

You say something to him in question, but his mind doesn’t register it, he’s too focused on your shoulder.

Everything else fades to the background as he’s stuck in a stalemate between his mutant and logical mind. His mouth opens, blowing hot breath across your neck causing a shiver to travel up your back.

God, he can’t take this anymore.

You’re saying something again, trying to catch his attention but he doesn’t hear it. You squirm slightly in his arms but Donnie only tightens them more.

His eyes bore into your shoulder memorizing every slight muscle shift you make as he brings his mouth down closer. He opens his mouth wider, almost about to bite down-

“Donnie!” You say firmly, pushing against his embrace.

You shrug him off easily, successfully breaking whatever hold his instincts had on him and turn to him exasperated.

“What has gotten into you?”

Donnie stands there, at a loss for words.

Which rarely happens to him, he often seems to have way too many.

He fumbles with his words, “I uh-.”

You stand there expectantly waiting for him to talk.

Donnie’s mouth opens and closes like a fish before just stopping entirely.

“We can’t just keep dancing around each other like this.” You huff out, “There is obviously something wrong with you and I think it’s reasonable enough to want to know why.”

You cross your arms one over the other as you look at him, muscles shifting slightly beneath your skin.

Unfortunately, this means Donnie is distracted once more by you.

Focus, Donnie.

They’re expecting an answer.

Donnie’s mouth opens once again to respond. “I-”

“And don’t try to explain it away this time. You might be smarter than me, but that doesn’t mean I’m dumb.”

“I never said that.” He bristles at the implication. “You sure imply it when you won’t trust me with what you’re going through.” You bite out.

His eyes drop down to your shoulder once more, before flicking back up to meet your gaze.

“I want to bite you.” He blurts out.

You take an ever so slight step backwards from him and he feels his heart drop into his stomach.

“You want to what?”

It’s not entirely an accusatory statement and he’s sure that you’re only asking for clarification but he can only feel the dread of what he’s about to explain to you creeping up on him.

“I want to… bite you,” he repeats.

It all suddenly seems so real when Donnie says it out loud and it leaves an uncomfortable feeling on his tongue. He wants desperately to be rid of it.

“That’s why I’ve been acting all weird.” His face scrunches up in frustration with himself and he taps his palm against his forehead.

“My mutant instincts are messing with my mind. You know when people get cuteness aggression; when they like something so much their brain doesn’t know what to do with itself and instead counteracts it with something negative. Well,” He swallows. “I think that’s what’s happening to me… with you.”

You both stand there for an agonizing couple of beats before the sentence fully registers in your mind.

“Oh. Oh...” You huff out a laugh in relief. “That’s what all of this has been about? I was beginning to think that you didn’t like me anymore.”

“What? No! This is the turtle side of me saying I want to be near you… though not in the most productive way, I might add.” He murmurs the last part out.

“Donnie, why wouldn’t I understand this part of you?” Stepping forward, you take his hands into yours, softly laughing. “I mean you already purr and hiss like a cat.”

Donnie takes a little offense at the comment, but it's hard to hide the smile creeping up from the corner of his lips. He’s just glad that you’re still joking with him.

“It’s called ‘churring’, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, uh huh. You overgrown cat.” You smile playfully at him before turning a bit more serious. “When I got into this relationship, I wasn’t expecting you to be human, I don’t need you to be human. I need you to be Donnie.”

He squeezes your hand and nods.

“I know, I know.” He murmurs, leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead. “But I am sorry for keeping it hidden from you, I’m just afraid of-”

“Hurting me?” You finish his sentence. “I don’t think you could ever hurt me on purpose.”

“I’ve tried to distract myself from it with other things but I have yet to try… giving in. It might go away if I can.” Donnie clears his throat before looking to the side, feeling a blush start to bloom on his cheeks. “If that is something you would be interested in.”

“I might” You smile playfully. “...How do you feel right now?”

Donnie thinks for a moment, the urge is still there but it’s lessened considerably.

“I think-” He swallows. “I think I’m okay for now.”

“Next time this urge happens, please let me know. I’m fine with it, but I just need a warning, you know?”

His instincts had given him a much-needed break for the rest of the day and he was able to act normal (well Donnie’s usual normal anyway) for the rest of the day. After finishing up the chores in the kitchen you both had gone through the motions of the day before finally settling into bed. Donnie’s body was curled around you as the big spoon and you both watched whatever videos that happened across your phone. Both of you had fallen into a sort of trance as you both watched the screen and Donnie could feel sleep beginning to tug at his eyelids.

But of course, there was that feeling again.

Donnie's head falls against your back in defeat as he can feel the urge to bite you rising again. He really didn’t want to ruin this moment with you, but you had said that you wanted him to be more honest with you… and that was something he could honor.

Donnie props himself up onto one of his forearms and leans slightly over you so that he can see your face a bit more clearly. He murmurs your name softly and you murmur back in response.

“Can I…?” He leaves the rest of the question in the air.

You turn your head a bit more to look at him and set down your phone, the sleep in your gaze slowly wearing off as you recognize what he’s asking you.

“O-oh. Yes, of course.” You adjust a little bit in his hold before asking hesitantly, “Do I need to do something?”

He slowly shakes his head.

“No, I don’t think so. Just tell me as soon as I go too far.” He murmurs out, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Okay.” You murmur back.

He wraps his arms around you once more, holding you loosely against him just in case you want to pull away before reaching up to slowly drag the fabric of your shirt away from your shoulder. Donnie breath blows across your shoulder again as he hesitates once more.

“I’m serious. Tell me to stop and I will.”

You nod softly.

His tongue sweeps across his teeth as he makes a final nervous swallow before opening his mouth once more, going as slow as possible from him too, giving you ample time to tell him to stop. He needs to be careful with you, any fast movements from either of you and he could break skin. Although he wanted to bite, he didn’t want to cause you pain. Donnie’s mouth hovers for a few moments before finally settling it onto your shoulders.

You involuntarily flinch when he bites down on you and Donnie immediately stops, pausing to see your reaction.

“You’re okay, Donnie.” You breathe out, “Just… surprised me is all.”

He hesitantly continues, slowly but steadily increasing the pressure of the bite just up until the point where he is too afraid that he’ll break the skin. He holds the pressure there; just languishing in the moment. The instincts seem to have settled in his chest, satisfied and he pulls away.

When he sees the bite mark, he can’t stop the involuntary churring reverberating from his chest, and dear god, was his tail wagging too? He didn’t churr often and when he did, it was-

Embarrassing…

You turn to him slightly with a smile creeping out of the side of your mouth. “Happy?”

He huffs through his nostrils and nudges his head against yours, feeling too embarrassed to admit that simply biting you could make him get like this.

His snout nudges in between your neck and shoulder, planting a soft kiss there.

You pat the arm that he has wrapped around you. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He peppers another kiss along your collarbone before maneuvering so that he hovers over you, now able to reach more of your neck. Donnie feels your heartbeat get faster through the kisses he leaves along your shoulder.

One bite mark would deter off another Yokai, but it's less likely for them to see it if he only left one, it would be better if he left more.

And you did say that it was okay for him to bite.

He leaves one kiss along your neck, nipping slightly before pulling away, checking for discomfort.

"Oh c’mon, Don.” You laugh slightly, allowing him to continue. “I'm not made of paper.”

His churr deepens as he leaves bites along your collarbone and your shoulders. Your heartbeat picks up and your hearts beat in unison, tangling yourself into one. Donnie’s instincts demanded more and more of you only stopping when you let out a gasp.

He pulls back, checking over your face for signs of pain.

Your face is scrunched up slightly into a grimace.

“Donnie, I’m okay.” You reassure him.

He opens his mouth to respond and he notices the tang of blood in his mouth.

Not his blood, yours.

His eyes flash down to your shoulder again, seeing red just beginning to bloom on your shoulder. The churring in his chest peters out as he feels his stomach drop.

There it was, blaring proof that he went too far.

“I knew this was a bad idea.” He murmurs to himself.

He can fix this, he can fix this.

He clambers out of the bed and starts to leave to get supplies.

Sitting up in bed, you reach out to stop him but you’re unable to.

“Donnie-” You start to get up to follow but he gently stops you from getting up.

“Stay.” He says firmly.

Sitting back down, you instead watch Donnie leave, making his way out of the bedroom before coming back with a first aid kit and ice pack in hand. He quickly makes his way over to you again, laying out the first aid kit before picking out an antiseptic wipe.

“Donnie, I’ll be fine you didn’t even bite that hard…” Your words trail off as you watch his expression change into one where you know he’s made up his mind.

He pulls the collar of your shirt down so he can look at it a bit closer. He feels a sort of pride as he looks at the mark, one that immediately sours.

“You are never going to let me do this again.” He says firmly, taking the wipe out of the package. “I don’t care how much my instincts tell me to.”

He presses it into your shoulder and you flinch a bit at the sting of it.

There are so many bite marks… all of these will surely bruise.

He busies himself as he cleans up the various marks on you, everything else fading into the background.

“Donatello.”

He pauses, he hasn’t heard you say his actual name in a while.

You lift a hand to his face, softly guiding him to look at you.

"Accidents happen. I knew it might hurt… you knew it might hurt. We went through with it anyway.” You drag a thumb across his cheek before letting your hand fall to your side. “I don't regret letting you bite me.”

Donnie opens his mouth to protest but you give him a look that makes him shut it once more.

“If this is something your instincts are telling you to do, then there must be some reason behind it all. Just ignoring it obviously didn’t help last time and it won’t help in the future. If I have to get some love bites from you once in a while, I think I’m okay with that.” You say gently, “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, and even if you do, I trust you.”

Of course, you had to pull out the genuine love and affection, you knew exactly how fast that it takes him to crumble under that kind of pressure.

Donnie sighs, “God, I love you so much.”

He pulls you to him, leaning his forehead against yours.

You laugh softly, “I love you too.”

Donnie maneuvers the both of you so that you’re sitting in his lap, the deep churring starting up again, although lessened from before. You sink into his embrace, enjoying the feeling of the reverberations traveling up through his plastron and onto your back.

Donnie continues to patch you up, going into medic mode so you both sit there in silence enjoying each other’s company. Once finished with cleaning up the bite mark, he places a soft kiss on it and you let out a soft hum.

He warns you before he carefully places an ice pack onto your shoulder, while his other hand traces circles across your other forearm.

Leaning your head back so that it's propped up on his shoulder, you smile up at him.

Donnie is so focused on holding the ice pack to your bite that his eyes only just flicker over to yours before going back to what he was doing. His brows scrunch together as he slowly peels back the ice pack to check for bruising.

“If biting makes you all lovey-dovey, I don’t think I mind it.”

He lets out a huff of breath, that directly counteracts the churring’s volume that heightens considerably.

He wasn’t going to admit it, but he didn’t mind it either.

“Donnie?”

He responds with a simple hum.

“Does this mean I get to bite you?”

#rise donnie x reader #rottmnt x reader #donnie x reader #Biscuit Crumbs #one shot #He just wants a nibble #come on let him #tmnt #tmnt Donnie

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asidian · 4 months ago

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One thing I've spent a lot of time thinking about is how quickly Charles opens up to Crystal, and why it was he showed her things that he's kept from Edwin for thirty years.

The first component is, I think, because she needs him to.

Charles is, at his core, an extremely supportive person. He tries so hard for everyone around him, unfailingly. He's there for Edwin and Crystal, emotionally and physically, throughout the series. He tries to put on a happy face to keep everyone's spirits up, because at his core, he needs to be needed. He desperately wants people to like him, and his always-cheerful act is at least in part meant as an offer of support to others.

Not only that, but he routinely puts his own needs and wants aside in favor of giving others what they need instead. (I go more into how that affects his relationship with Crystal here and with Edwin here.)

So it's interesting to note that the first time he opens up to Crystal, it isn't for his own sake. Crystal is saying that it's hard not to be able to go home.

And what does Charles do? He reaches out in the way he thinks she needs.

He shows her his parents.

It's his way of saying that he gets it. He understands where she's coming from. It is hard not to be able to go home. And won't she let them help?

But it's interesting that this is something that he hasn't shown Edwin.

Not only hasn't he shown Edwin, but he still doesn't want Edwin to know. He specifically asks Crystal not to tell him.

So, why?

Well... just like he thinks Crystal needs to hear it, Charles thinks that Edwin doesn't.

One of the very first things he learned about Edwin is that he escaped from hell. Charles says that Edwin has told him a lot about it. And from the very first episode, it's extremely clear that Edwin doesn't shy away from talking about his time there.

So we've got Charles, a consummate people-pleaser who's desperate for approval, faced with this boy who just did the kindest thing anyone has ever done for him. We've got Charles, who supports the people he cares for as naturally as breathing, faced with a boy he cares dearly for, and that boy is dealing with decades of trauma.

So what does Charles think that boy needs? He needs someone to help him. He needs someone to be kind, and optimistic, and cheerful, because Edwin's time in hell has taught him to always expect the worst.

So Charles stuffs his own issues down somewhere deep because Edwin needs him to put on a cheerful face.

That's the first part.

The second reason why Charles opens up to Crystal so quickly is, I think, circumstantial.

She happens to be there during the Devlin house fiasco, when he's being faced by very visceral, unavoidable reminders of his own abuse. She's literally in the room when he reads Hope's diary, and from what we see and hear about Charles' family life, everything in that diary mirrors what Charles went through.

Hope's father has very strict rules. She's walking on eggshells. She never knows what's going to set him off.

Charles relates deeply to all of those things, and seeing his own thoughts and feelings spelled so clearly out on the page is enough to bring him to tears.

He's looking at this girl who, like him, struggled constantly to be good enough and constantly fell short.

For the first time in three decades, Charles is confronted with a situation that mirrors his own home life, one to one, and Crystal is there for it in real time.

She's able to see him put the mask down because she's there when it cracks.

Which brings us around to the third component.

And this one is a little more speculative, but hear me out.

Picture one Charles Rowland, circa 1989.

His dad beats the shit out of him on the regular. He thinks it's because he can never quite manage to be good enough, even though he's trying as hard as he knows how. His mother never defends him or speaks up for him.

His so-called friends? They'll beat him to death later this same year.

He's bi, but the AIDS epidemic is in full swing, and even if it wasn't, he's busily pretending the part of him that likes boys doesn't exist, because he looked at a boy the wrong way once, or maybe even kissed one, and his father beat the shit out of him for it.

So with a dire home life and the world's worst friends, what's left? Where's this boy who's desperate for a little kindness going to look for it?

Well, the only option that's left.

Charles is starved for approval and affection both, and for most of his short life, he's got exactly one avenue available to get either of them.

Girls his own age are safe.

They don't hurt him. They don't stand by and let his father beat him. They don't turn on him and literally murder him, when they don't get their way.

After he dies, he's got Edwin, and Edwin is everything to him. But for thirty long years, Edwin's sexuality and romantic inclinations are so far under wraps that they may as well be in another galaxy.

Edwin is kind, but he's stilted and does poorly with people. Edwin values Charles dearly, but he's awkward at expressing physical affection. Edwin cares about Charles a great deal, but he shies away from strong emotions. (If you're interested, I talk more about Edwin vs emotions here.)

So of course Charles would miss kissing. That's the only chance he's ever had, as far as experience has taught him, to earn any kind of physical affection.

And Crystal, when she comes along, falls directly into that "safe" category in his brain.

#dead boy detectives #dbda #dbda spoilers #charles rowland #crystal palace #edwin payne #payneland #meta commentary

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silhouetteonpaper · 2 months ago

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On The Run

Summary: You were used to the usual routine; completing a mission for some quick cash, running to the next hide-out in order to stay off the grid. But you weren't off the grid, not to Natasha. She still kept tabs on you, just in case. And now, she needed to find you—fast, before you both end up on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s kill list. Natasha Romanoff x Reader WC: 2,465 Warnings/Themes: Gun use, mentions of past relationship, angst, fluff

The Amalfi Coast, nine months after the Sokovia Accords.

The coordinates to the safe house led you down a winding road, barely big enough to fit two cars side by side. When the ocean view got so close, you wondered if the road would lead right off a cliff—It finally placed you at the simple stone house on the Italian coast. You were expecting a small touristy town, full of the stereotypical lemons and pizza, hoping to stop in a nearby town to try its various delicacies—maybe even relax and have a drink. But instead, you were surprised with something new. It was far from touristy, rather a humble area away from the large population. Small farms, vast orchards and vineyards, grasslands. And of course, the ocean, lapping softly right in front of your eyes.

When you pulled the car into the cobbled driveway, you could see the waves glowing with oranges and yellows of the sun; white tufts flowing over the rocks at a consistent pace, the crisp sea spray filling the air. It was almost too picturesque to be your next hideaway, like something you’d see on a brochure. But a few weeks of this, you weren’t going to complain.

Putting the car in park, you stepped out into the world and let the sun hit your face. Something was different about the Italian sun, like it truly got under your skin and filled your soul. It felt nice to stretch your legs after a few hours in the car, driving far enough away to remain hidden. After stealing intel for a large organization, you had no choice but to hide. If you stayed alive long enough, you’d earn a large sum. It was the same routine, accepting a mission from some wannabe-criminal organization, a quick in-and-out heist to earn you some quick cash. It was the only way you could keep food on the table, especially considering your situation.

Months had passed since the Sokovia Accords, leaving you on your own without a care; constantly on the run like a bird in flight while doing missions whenever possible. Yet this time, you weren’t working for just any organization. It was HYDRA. They offered a deal you couldn’t resist, it just made sense to accept it. Besides, you were laying low from S.H.I.E.L.D. anyways after the accords, you’d be living in a safe house regardless. So what, if you accepted a mission from the highest bidder who happened to work for the other side? You weren’t anyone’s property, and you sure as hell would never sign a paper like the accords that enforced such things. You were grateful to at least have a place to call home for the time being, knowing others weren’t as lucky.

Grabbing your duffel bag from the trunk, you walked up the driveway into your new home for the next few weeks. It was made of stone, rustic, with an older interior. It was even more Italian than you could’ve pictured. The floorboards creaked as you stepped inside the open living room, green couches covered in a thin layer of dust, no TV in sight. You let your duffel hit the ground with a thud, dust flying through the air as it caught in the sunlight flooding through the glossy windows. You gave yourself a quick house tour, finding the bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom with ease. The perfect place to hide out for a few weeks, alone and unbothered. Taking a deep breath, you unzipped your duffel to begin unpacking.

That’s when the feeling of something cold pressed against the back of your head, eerily similar to the barrel of a gun. Your heart dropped into your stomach, forcing you to remain frozen. You assumed you’d be alone, just like anyone when they step into their own safe house, one you triple-checked would be abandoned and untraceable. But you internally cursed yourself for not clearing each room when you entered anyway. You should’ve known to expect the unexpected, especially when there was a target on your back.

“Hey, don’t waste a perfectly good silver bullet on me. One swing of a knife will do…” With a racing heart, you tried to bargain with whoever was behind you. Was it bad that you often turned to humor in tense situations? Maybe, but it was the only sentence you could form with a gun held to your head. Your worst fear wasn’t dying, it was not having the upper hand. You raised your hands in the air slowly, keeping your head completely still as the pressure suddenly… disappeared.

“Don’t give me any ideas.” A familiar voice muttered, lowering the gun back into its concealed spot. Natasha. What could she possibly be doing here? You spun on your feet to face her. The agent with glowing locks of red hair, someone you used to know well, intruding without a word. It was almost like you could still see the mark you’d left on her, through the smile lines creasing her eyes when she’d squint, or by the grown-out highlights in her hair you artfully dyed. But now, she wasn’t an agent, not for S.H.I.E.L.D. anyway. Just like you, she ran when the terms of the accords finally got in the way of those she loved most. Including you. But now, you’ve both found yourself on opposite sides. Her, fighting for her friends, and you—fighting for yourself.

Swallowing the past, you looked at her dead on. “I didn’t realize they double booked this Air-BNB.” You joked, wondering if she would leave so you both could pretend this interaction never happened. Just like the last handful, all shoved under the rug. Because it was easier to pretend your relationship never existed than to face it head-on.

Natasha couldn’t help but smirk, deep down missing the humor that filled each of your interactions. But that was the past.Now you were the enemy. She had to keep a stoic expression—if not for you, for herself. “Sorry to crash your vacation.” She shrugged, slowly stepping around the place like she owned it.

You furrowed your brows, watching her every move. You hadn’t seen her in over a month, and the first thing she did was hold a gun to your head? Your not-so-secret hideout was easily found by the Widow—not surprising, but intriguing. Why would she need to find someone she knows is hiding? Something was up, but it was impossible to see past the facade she carefully constructed. “What brings you here?”

She avoided eye contact. “Would you be scared off if I said you?” The words nearly caught in her throat, her eyes finally finding yours. You crossed your arms, opening your mouth but realizing you were at a loss for words. It was rare that someone rendered you speechless, yet Natasha somehow did. She always found new ways to surprise you.

“That depends, is this a honeymoon I wasn’t made aware of?” Even like this, you couldn’t help but joke, and a part of you kicked yourself over it. But Natasha’s amused and even more drawn to you. Still, it wasn’t the time. Based on her expression that quickly returns to a serious frown, she was clearly there for something more pressing.

“I’m here because of S.H.I.E.L.D.” She stated plainly, like she had thrown all of her concealed weapons out on the table. You inhaled sharply, eyes turning dark at the mention of them. They know. They must’ve found out about HYDRA and sent Natasha in their stead. She could break down your walls, and detain you in a second. But even more pressing than that, was the fact it could be true.

Your heart nearly broke into two, but you weren’t going to reveal that. “You’re working for them again?” You questioned like it was an interrogation. She shook her head, realizing just how destroyed the trust between you both was. Because of S.H.I.E.L.D., but not for?

“They’ve decided to renew the warrants out for our arrest. They’re coming for us.” Her words were cautious, like even speaking about it would cause a brigade of agents to appear at the front door. Your gaze fell to the floor, the implications flooding into your mind like poison. It was impossible for you not to run over every option, every possibility in your mind. Calculating carefully what your next move would be; how you’d escape yet another wild chase across the world. It’s what you’d always do in the face of a challenge, overthink each option until your mind was left numb—the only thing left to do after was hide.

Natasha easily noticed the old habit; her gaze watching your eyes fall, darting across the floor, your lips curving into the slightest of frowns. She was studying you—and although slightly out of practice after all this time, Natasha never forgot completely. “Hey,” her voice was soft, enough to draw you out of your swirling thoughts. A stern expression on her face, yet a certain warmth beneath it. Hidden under her eyes if you dared to look close enough. “I didn’t come here to stir up trouble. I came here to… be of help.” It was hard for her to admit it, the fact she did want to get you out of the situation safely. It had been months since she showed her care for you, the support you’d assumed faltered after you chose to follow a different path in the ongoing war.

The words were a relief, but you weren’t sure if they were true. It had been a while since you were able to trust someone, constantly out on the run from safe house to safe house. Alone, because it was easier that way. You desired it greatly, to share the burden of your reality with anyone else, but it wasn’t as simple as that. Especially not with Natasha. It was never simple with her. Even now, when your options are seemingly slim.

“You come here, hold a gun to my head, and now you’re trying to get me to trust you?” You weren’t trying to hide the fact there was a broken relationship between you both, especially after the anger you were forced to direct at each other after the accords. But deep down, maybe you knew that wasn’t ever Natasha talking, it was the puppeteering of S.H.I.E.L.D. Still, no one controls the Widow, not even you. She could’ve gone about it differently, you both could have.

With the light pouring in from the window, you could see her face more clearly. She looked tired, like she traveled far to be here today. Those little details never went unnoticed by you. “I needed you to listen.” Natasha almost sounded… desperate. It laced her words, like she was speaking from her heart and not from her mind.

“You could’ve just sent a text.” You commented, watching as she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Both of you knew the truth, that S.H.I.E.L.D. was already tapping into your supposedly ‘untraceable’ phones. If she had sent a message, they’d know you two were teaming up. But was that what was really happening?

She chuckled. That laugh, you’d waited so long to hear it again. It reminded you of why you let your humorous side show in the first place. For people like Natasha, who appreciate a cunning sense of humor, a quick joke amidst a serious situation. And this was most definitely serious. You toy with the idea of following her lead, agreeing you’d both need to figure out an escape plan from S.H.I.E.L.D.’s approaching attack.

“What did you have in mind? Y’know, to get us both out of this unharmed?” If she’d come unannounced, she at least had to have a plan. You knew her well enough to expect that Natasha never comes unprepared.

She took a deep breath, making you question if she really did have a solid plan. “We run, like always. I know of a place Northwest we can stay. And we’ll keep dodging them until…”

“Until they forget about us. Again.” You finished her sentence for her, already understanding where this was headed. Running, hiding, with no end in sight. But the way she phrased it made something inside of your heart skip a beat. She said we. We, as in the two of you would run together, this time on the same side.

Thousands of questions formed in an instant, yet one stuck out over the rest. Where did that leave you both? Friends? Enemies? Acquaintances? You were unsure who the woman standing before you was. Natasha, whom you could still feel the soft touch of if you closed your eyes—or Agent Romanoff, who was stoic and cold, whose work was a relentless priority. Even if it was the former, did she like the idea of you two running off together? Or could she just not handle the guilt of letting you flail?

“Your eyes are doing that thing again.” She spoke, her stare intense with something that felt like more than strangers, more than friends. She wanted to convince you. “I think it’ll be good for us.”

You look at her, letting your expression relax, letting your worried posture fall. She wanted this. “There’s no team bonding better than hiding out together.” You joked softly, letting your eyes fully see what was in front of you. Not just Natasha, but what this could mean for the two of you. Was it time to stop your streak of being alone? Was it a sign of weakness?

“I like that, team.” Natasha smiled, and suddenly your heart felt like it was going to fall into your stomach. Not because you were scared of running, but because you wanted this, to be with her. The idea of you two hiding away together—keeping each other safe, isolated from the world, it didn’t sound so bad. It scared you how vulnerable you felt, more than the fact the strongest force of agents was on their way. How you felt okay with this, how you longed for this.

To say you were desperate for the touch of another would seem like an overstatement, especially since you’re not someone who feels that deeply. But when Natasha stepped closer toward you, her slow breathing audible by the time she stopped—you weren’t going to back away. Like a magnet, she was drawing you in. “What d’you say, will you run with me?” Her lips curved into a smile, eyes locked with yours. There was no way you could turn her down.

“I will always run with you, Natasha Romanoff."

#marvel #mcu #marvel fanfic #the avengers #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader

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rinhaler · 1 year ago

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assuming ur reqs are still open, can we please get younger stepbro!megumi watching you get off through a peephole in the wall? and like you know he's watching so you call him a little perv and he gets harder 👀

i'm sorry if it's too specific sdjsdjsjjls ofc u don't have to do this, have a lovely day!!

-a follower who's too shy to come off anon

I hope this is okay for you! I've never really thought about writing a younger step brother thing before since I'm not into younger guys myself but I hope I made it fun for you to read, enjoy my angel!

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, masturbation (m+f), voyeurism, vibrator use, stepcest ofc.

words: 1.1k

Going from being an only child to having a little brother was always going to be a big adjustment. It’s not like you’re that much older, but moving into a new home to accommodate a four person and two dog household was a big change. You had your own room on the ground floor of your old home. Your mother didn’t stop you from coming and going as you pleased.

But now, you have a room directly next door to Megumi.

You’re always butting heads and even your stepdad has been giving you trouble since your family merged. You have a curfew for the first time in your life. You aren’t allowed boys over and you haven’t been able to party in months. You’re frustrated. Constantly pent up from the lack of excitement in your life.

Megumi hasn’t helped the situation in the least. He’s a quiet introvert with a wicked tongue when he starts. You argue a lot, and he always gets you into trouble. You’re the wayward party girl. Whereas he’s the studious quiet guy that couldn’t ever put a foot wrong.

You’re going stir crazy.

And it’s been weeks since you got laid.

You took a risk when you decided to order a new vibrator to alleviate your tension. If you can’t satiate it with sex, a big pink wand will have to do. You didn’t want to get caught by a stupid mistake like your parents or your brother opening the parcel. So you ordered it to a friend’s house. She didn’t judge, but she dropped it off the very next day for you, winking and telling you not to have too much fun.

Fingers aren’t enough, they haven’t been for years.

The only thing that can relieve your growing tension is the buzz of a vibrator. You have small bullets and they do just fine, but if your stepdad is insisting on you having no life and no hook ups, you knew you had to up the ante.

The only other person home right now is Megumi. Your parents are at work and you quite frankly can’t wait to watch some porn and cum all over your toy. You hurry up the stairs and take it out of the packaging. You test to see if it has any charge, it does, and decide to forgo charging. You don’t care about a lengthy edging session. You just want to cum.

And you’ve known about the sick little hole Megumi drilled between your bedrooms for weeks now. He thought you weren’t home when he did it, opting to hide when he started peeping through. It’s behind a Weezer poster adjacent to his bed. You’ve seen the familiar green eye numerous times and opted not to say anything. Not because you want him to leer at you. But because you’re holding it to use as ammunition next time he really pisses you off.

You hear the indiscreet sound of his poster moving after you test the buzz of your vibrator. And you smirk, hearing how he carefully tries to unzip his pants and groans softly the second his hand holds his cock.

It’s an all too familiar sound, now. Him wanking over you at any given chance. It’s weird considering he has zero interest in you as a human being, doing anything he can to hinder your life. But watching you undress slowly everyday multiple times leaves him spent. And the intimate moments after dark that you have to yourself and the quietly playing porn you choose to watch on your phone are the highlights of his day.

He strokes himself slowly as you strip down to nothing, you’re teasing him as you fondle your breasts before getting comfortable on your bed. You settle for some lewd ASMR. A random man with a deep voice telling you what a good girl you are among other things. You do exaggerate a few moans, pretending that you have no idea that your brother is home and playing with himself over you.

It feels incredible.

You knew a wand would be powerful, but you had no idea to this extent.

“O-Oh, fuck, shit—” you gasp, cumming almost instantly as you up the speed to full. You’re shaking and shivering as your orgasm rips through you, and the sheer quickness of it all makes you burst into laughter. You cover your mouth, giggling, in a state of disbelief of how amazing this pink silicone toy is.

Megumi licks his lips, beating himself off quicker after realising you’ve came already. He hadn’t expected you to finish so quickly, but he keeps replaying the sound of your moans in his mind as he tries to chase you in your release. But he slows, again, when he hears you restart the wand. He grunts, too loudly, as he watches your hips roll into the wand, chasing the feeling of that release again.

“Such a little perv, Megumi.” you moan… not stopping the buzzing against your clit as you talk to him. “W-What would dad think? If he knew you were getting hard and cumming over me?”

He bites his lips, unable to believe you knew he was doing this. And even more shocked that you aren’t stopping, letting him watch you. Maybe even getting off on it? If he’s a perv, what does that make you?

But he knows he’s a perv. He’s had a thing for you since the minute he set eyes on you. Unable to believe how brazen you were with bringing boys home and making out with them without a care in front of your parents. Toji hated it, and so did Megumi. But he couldn’t deny it turned him on. And seeing how riled up you were getting after Toji’s boy ban was when he knew he had to take the plunge and make a little peephole for himself.

Spying on you every chance he got whenever you felt particularly needy or just wanted to change your outfit. He’s had so many jerk-off sessions to you thinking you were clueless.

But you’ve known… the whole time. It’s too much for him. It’s going to bring him to his fucking end.

“You’re such a slut…” he pants, his teeth piercing the skin on his lip enough to draw blood.

“I-I’d rather be a- a slut. Meg-umi. Than a gross little perv like you. Watchin’ me cum everyday… watchin’ me change… such a sicko. Hnng—!” you tense up, trying to hold back your orgasm while taunting your brother.

He cums, spurting white globs all over his fist and up the wall. You hear him hissing and grunting as he finishes, you even hear the sticky fisting sound over the buzz of your vibrator. He begins to pant, deep and heavy as a bead of sweat runs down his forehead.

“I hate you.” he mutters, putting his poster back down and moving away to clean himself up.

“Awe, come back Megs!” you giggle. “Don’t you wanna watch me cum?”

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sweet-as-an-angel · 2 years ago

Text

Vampire Simon “Ghost” Riley Headcanons

Warnings: Implications of Smut, Implications of Degrading, Aftercare, Feeding, Jealous Simon, Possessive Simon, Fluff, Mentions of Blood, Petnames, Self-Conscious Simon, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

Ghost is one of the oldest vampires to inhabit the planet, and as a result, has tremendous self-control when it comes to feeding.

He’ll only feed from you if you let him, and he won’t feed from anyone or anything else.

The thought of tasting another person’s blood repulses him. Makes him feel dirty.

After all, you’re the only one for him, so why would he enact such an intimate encounter with someone else ?

He’ll get extremely jealous if you let someone else feed from you, btw.

Even if it’s a dire situation and it’s someone he knows well – Soap, for instance – he’ll struggle to not let his mind wander, to contemplate whether you enjoy having Johnny attached to your throat like a leech.

Sulky vampire boyfriend hours !!!

You’ll have to reassure him that he’s still your favourite (and only !) “Big teddy boy~”.

He secretly (shamefully) loves feeding from you.

And I don’t mean in just a romantic sense; I’m talking full-on primal instinct.

Whenever he has you pinned under him and is taking you, he can smell how close you are to your end by the scent of your blood.

And he waits, calling you every whorish synonym under the sun, smoothing over your tears with promises of love that you already know until your body gives out and you wail, back arching into Simon’s chest as his fangs sharpen and plunge into the juncture of your neck.

Your blood is a fine delicacy, but in this moment, during the pinnacle of mortal euphoria, it is exquisite.

He doesn't drain you; just takes what he knows your body can take.

And despite how rough he can be with you, when there’s blood – your blood –involved, he’s nothing but gentle.

His favourite part of the evening is when he pulls you into his arms and a trickle of blood runs down your chest and he gets to run his tongue along it; a red mercy.

Simon’s big on aftercare btw.

He’s not letting you get out of bed for at least a full day afterwards; not until you’re fully healed.

The longer a vampire goes without feeding, the more of their true form appears.

It takes energy to keep his human skin intact, so if Ghost hasn’t been drinking, his features become gradually more monstrous as the days go by.

He’ll wear his mask when this starts to happen.

He loves you, trusts you with every ounce of his existence. But he doesn’t want you seeing him. The real him.

It doesn’t matter how many times you tell him that you love him “Regardless of what’s underneath your pretty boy face !” – he’s not letting you see it.

Often, your reassurances turn into quick ‘self-love’ sessions in the nearest, most convenient spot, ending with Simon gasping and whining beneath your touch.

He knows his vampire form isn’t easy to look at. A man’s heart once gave out the second he caught sight of Simon without his human face on.

And he doesn’t want that for you.

He just loves you too much.

Speaking of; he’s always hinting towards turning you into a vampire.

Like, constantly.

He brings it up at some of the most inopportune moments – like when you’re cooking dinner or trying to

Once, to shut him up, you told him (jokingly) that he’d have to “Marry me before I let you turn me !”

And that put a dangerous little idea in Simon’s head.

Now, he’s always trying to find the perfect opportunity to propose to you – to turn you.

He’s not stupid, he knows that tone in your voice meant you weren’t being entirely serious.

But it gave him hope. A rare commodity in the world of an undead.

He has about ten engagement rings hidden in your shared home, each having been tweaked and perfected to be as timeless as possible.

You’re the most wonderful human there is, in Simon’s eyes, so you deserve the best.

So be on the lookout for that faraway look in his eye as he peers into a future he doesn’t think can come soon enough; one where your love will outlive all those that have come before and after.

A life where, for the first and last time, Simon has a constant in his life.

You.

Domestic Vampire Boyfriend !!!

He’ll cook for you whenever you ask him to, no questions asked.

Though, he won’t be handling any garlic.

Or be going near you when you’ve eaten it.

Soap constantly tries to bring up embarrassing stuff Simon’s done.

Which is why he’s always at your side whenever the 141 come over.

He can’t risk johnny jeopardising the slick, suave, sophisticated image of a loving boyfriend (and stone-cold killer) he’s cultivated for himself. Well, for you, mainly.

“Ey, did’ya know that once when Si and I were just wee vampires, that he almost set a whole town on fire because he forgot he burns up in the sun–”

“That’ll do, Johnny.”

“Aww, it’s okay, Sim-Sim,” you say. “You’re still my favourite little leechie in the whole world !”

He is going to get bullied by his associates after that, but if it’s to hear your sweet praises, he’ll gladly tolerate it.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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ppomumgranatum · 6 months ago

Text

the dance of love's sweet potion.

also available on Ao3

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

tags: fluff, one shot, you POV, house-neutral reader, jealousy, protective

word count: 5.3k

Warnings: MAJOR HEADCANNON, the books and the potions are all in my head just for the sake of this story, characters are in their 7th year, I finally caved and wrote the cliche protective and jealous seb and i fucking love it

Summary: When a potion meant to repel backfired, it became a mishap that turned your world upside down.

Notes: I was craving some fluff, so a fluff was created ❤️

Revulsaroma is a powerful potion that demands careful handling and discretion. Designed for specific situations where deterring unwanted advances or repelling individuals is necessary, its potency requires utmost caution. Ingredients: • 3 drops of essence of skunk cabbage • 2 crushed doxy wings • 1 teaspoon of powdered Boomslang skin • 4 ounces of extract from a Devil's Snare vine • 1 pinch of powdered Basilisk fang • Hair from the person brewing the potion

You carefully traced your finger along the intricate words laid out in the book you had kept from your parents’ dusty collection on potion making and meticulously followed the instructions. Taking advantage of the quiet after hours, you used the station at potion class to get on with your mission.

You’re not a pro in potion making per se, but the way you precisely measure out ingredients, stirring the potion with such poise, you feel as skilled as Professor Sharp– if he was plagued with a horrible disease of a red-haired boy goes by the name of Leander Prewett.

For weeks, Leander had been following you around so relentlessly and constantly asking you out. It was cute at first but now it was starting to feel like pure harassment. Despite numerous rejection, it didn't seem like he’s the type of guy who understood the concept of boundaries and your patience was wearing extremely thin.

You remembered an old potion you once came across when you were younger– Revulsaroma, a repelling potion. You figured it was time to revisit those pages since you’re in a dire need for a solution.

You stirred the components inside of your cauldron with a pinch of determination, distress, and a lot of rage. The earthy and putrid notes filled the air and it was probably going to stick with you for a while but you surely hoped this was going to be worth it.

When the potion finally came to completion, you carefully transferred it to a pumpkin juice bottle to trick Leander into drinking it.

“Alright, that looks good.” You sighed in relief as you put the bottle down and stared at the securely stored dark liquid with pride, knowing that soon you’d be able to take a break from the unwanted attention. At least for a while just until you could figure out a permanent way to stop him,

You proceeded to clean up your station and returned some tools that you took from the inventory room, making sure that everything was back in its rightful spot. Because Merlin knew that you couldn’t take another chide from Professor Sharp about the importance of being responsible and organised.

Just when everything was about to be restored to its pristine state, you heard a loud retching coming from the other room. When you rushed outside, you saw your bestfriend, hands desperately grasping the edge of your station, body racked with violent gagging, and breath ragged in a grave attempt to gasp for air.

“Sebastian?” You exclaimed while rushing to his side, “Are you alright?”

“Came to—bleughh—look for you,” Sebastian managed to say in between his guttural heaves.

“What’s wrong?” Your voice trailed off when you saw your pumpkin juice bottle collapsed and empty. Right at that moment, your eyes widened at the realisation that Sebastian just drank your Revulsaroma. “No, no, no. You bloody, bloody idiot!”

Quickly, you summoned water from an empty jar that you found nearby and gave it to Sebastian who was still fighting the disgusting taste stuck in his throat.

Gulping down the entire water in a matter of milliseconds, Sebastian attempted to catch his breath, “Your pumpkin juice— is expired, by the way.”

“Oh my God, oh my God, Sebastian!” You ran your fingers through your hair in distress. What was already a pretty stressful situation just got a whole lot worse.

“What?” He was truly not getting your frustration. He gagged once more, recoiling whatever last bit of that disgusting liquid he's tasting.

“That’s not pumpkin juice!” You scowled and gestured abruptly.

“What is it, then? Poison?” Every muscle on his face seemed to tensed up, still.

“Why would you fucking drink that? It was meant for Leander.” You grunted.

His grimace was then taken over by disbelief for a moment, “Gods, killing Leander is a bit extreme, don’t you think? Even for me.”

“No—ugh,” You sighed heavily, feeling totally overwhelmed. Slumping on your station, you rested your head on it "This is bad. It's really bad."

“You're freaking me out. What is it?”

You lifted your head from the table, meeting his concerned gaze with a weary expression.

“It’s a potion called Revulsaroma. It is supposed to repel whoever drinks it.” You admitted.

Sebastian was still focused on getting the foul taste out of his tongue, but his eyes were quickly narrowed in the scrutiny of your last sentence, “And why exactly are you trying to repel Leander?”

Catching Sebastian's look, a twinge of guilt pricked at you. You winced inwardly, realising you'd never really spilled the beans to Sebastian about the whole Leander debacle. Partly because you didn’t want to give him the wrong idea and thinking that there was anything romantic going on between you and the Gryffindor boy.

The line on your relationship with Sebastian had always been blurry, if you could be honest. You’re obviously friends—best friends—but at the same time, the chemistry between the two of you would be such a waste to stay as friends.

You’d occasionally exchange innocent flirting, teasing each other and bantering in a way that felt more than platonic. You couldn't deny the butterflies in your stomach that fluttered every time he smiled at you and the way you felt when he complimented you.

Things had been going very well lately, and you'd like to think you had a shot to turn it into something more.

But now, he’s consumed the one thing that was going to seal the chance you have with him. Because whatever feeling he was going to feel, the potion was supposed to make him feel it so strongly.

The thought of losing Sebastian terrified you.

“That’s not what we’re supposed to be focusing on.” You diverted the topic and reached out to your book, checking for things to look out for. Your eyes trailed the ink that explains the detail of the potion.

You noticed Sebastian had shifted his weight from the corner of your eye, moving somewhat uncomfortable in his feet.

"But what does that mean for me?" he asked.

You sighed, trying to collect your thoughts. "According to the potion's effects, you're supposed to start feeling aversions towards me," you explained, gesturing towards the brewing cauldron with a frustrated gesture. "and I have no idea how to reverse it.”

Your voice was heavy with disappointment. The same emotion was written all over Sebastian's face. There was silence as you both processed the fact that there was no quick fix to this mess.

“So, I’m supposed to hate you? Just like that?”

“That’s kind of the whole point of the potion.”

Sebastian's eyes scanned the cluttered laboratory, a look of resignation settling over his features. "Well, this is just great," he muttered under his breath. Sebastian's complexion turned paler, a nauseous expression crossing his features, "I think I'm gonna be sick."

Sebastian stood there, his hand pressed against his stomach, unsure if the wave of nausea washing over him was solely due to the potion's effects or the unsettling thought of hating you.

But then he felt his body teetering on the brink of collapse. You grappled his arm to provide support but his condition worsened in an instant and he started to fall backwards. Using every ounce of your strength, you were struggling to keep him upright because damn this boy was heavy. And when his weight eventually bore you down, you lowered him down gently.

There was no response even after you called out his name and shook his body. His breathing was laboured and you were panicking. You didn’t know the potion would be this strong.

Spotting a group of students who were passing by outside of the classroom, you called out to them for assistance. Sebastian was then taken to the infirmary and was given proper treatment by Nurse Blainey.

You had to awkwardly explain what caused the brunette to lose his consciousness. Given the fact that you were practising and using potions for non-study purposes, disciplinary action was necessary and you were required to attend detention tomorrow.

When you returned to your room that night, all you did was shift around in your bed. Spending the entire night thinking about Sebastian and how he will wake up in the morning hating you.

But for now, all you could do was wait.

When the sun rose, you were quick to get back on your feet and head towards the infirmary to check on Sebastian before breakfast started. But to your surprise, he was no longer there. Nurse Blainey said he woke up all energetic and there were no signs of any disturbance so she allowed him to get on with school.

You were slightly relieved to know that Sebastian was feeling better. Although the question of his feelings towards you remained unknown.

So you ventured on, heading to the Great Hall for breakfast. Moving along with a crowd of students who were also making their way to the venue you suddenly bumped into someone.

“Oh, sorry.” You glanced up to see it was no other than Sebastian, “Hey, I was looking for you.”

You’ve caused some traffic considering you abruptly stopped in the middle of a walkaway crowd. Some were bumping into you and muttered under their breaths in annoyance. It was a horrible time to be upsetting people—hungry and grumpy people.

So Sebastian dragged you away from the crowd. You were caught a little bit off guard at the sudden tug on your elbow. Your feet were almost stumbling around trying to catch up to Sebastian’s pace.

“Are you insane?” Was the first thing he said when you found a quiet little corner away from the bustling people.

Your stomach clenched.

This was it.

The memories you shared for the past two years dramatically flashed before your eyes— the adventures, the late night studies, the stupid unfunny jokes he made but you laughed at them anyway— fuck.

This was it.. he hated you.

“Why would you tell Nurse Blainey the truth about everything?” He sounded quite aggravated. Unexpectedly, it was not for the reason you thought it would be— albeit he should be angry towards you for no reason at all considering the potion.

Your mouth gaped open but you were struggling to find the words.

"You could've just said it was a bad batch for our assignment," He explained. "You didn't have to get detention for it."

“What?” You finally managed to sputter out.

“Blainey said she gave you detention.” He added, “I feel bad.”

You can’t feel bad for someone you hate unless they fall into lava and viciously die or something. Because to feel bad meant having empathy, and to feel empathy meant he cared, which meant he didn’t hate you and the potion never worked.

Right?

“So you don’t hate me?” You asked carefully.

His tensed brows gradually softened as realisation dawned on him. He was so focused on you that he never really thought of what the potion was supposed to make him feel.

“I don’t, actually.” He sounded relieved and as were you upon hearing his confirmation, “I guess the potion never worked after all.”

Relief washed over you like a cool breeze on a hot day. Though you started wondering if the potion didn’t work on Sebastian, it might’ve not worked on Leander either. Which meant you were back to square one, trying to figure out how to deal with his annoying arse.

But it was a problem you didn’t want to think about too much at the moment. You were just glad your friendship with Sebastian remained intact despite the unfortunate mishap.

“So what did Blainey assign you to do?”

“She said Scribner has been fussing over some organising issues.” You grumbled, “She told me to give her some assistance after classes.”

“Yikes.” Sebastian said, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.” You retorted, “Are you really feeling alright?”

“As normal as I can be.” He smiled reassuringly, “Though, you still haven’t told me why you were trying to repel Leander.”

“He just..” You hesitated for a moment, annoys me.”

Technically, you didn’t lie. Leander’s entire antics had been nothing but annoying to you. Sebastian only pursed his lips and nodded. Be that as it may, his eyes were looking at you rather dubiously. But he didn’t pry further.

–

After breakfast, you had some time to kill before class started. You found yourself seeking solace in the quiet lounge area near the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. With a book on Revulsaroma in hand, you sought answers in its pages that you might have missed. It explained further about its history and the past research on this potion. As you delved deeper, a particular section caught your eye that described a crucial detail—

The Revulsaroma potion's effectiveness in repelling a drinker is contingent upon the absence of strong positive emotions towards the potion-maker. If the drinker harbours genuine affection for the potion-maker, the potion's repelling properties may be nullified or significantly weakened. This phenomenon is attributed to the potent influence of positive emotions, which can act as a counterforce against the potion's intended repulsion.

Before you could dwell on it further, Leander plopped beside you out of nowhere and casually draped his arm around your shoulder, interrupting your thoughts.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He greeted you with a smile so charming if he wasn’t so pushy about it you could see yourself giving in to his cheesy escapades. You subtly shifted away from the sudden proximity, hoping he would take the hint some time.

“Good morning, Leander.” You replied politely.

He seemed to be undeterred by your subtle attempt because he leaned in closer, “So, I was thinking, with the weather getting nicer and all, let’s take a trip around the highlands.” He sounded so enthusiastic for a suggestion that’s so inappropriate, “We could explore the beautiful scenery. My family has this cosy little cottage just outside of Keenbridge that we can use. What do you think?”

You scrunched up your nose because it sounded bloody ridiculous, “A bit intimate, don’t you think?”

“What’s wrong with a little bit of intimacy?”

“Nothing wrong with it, of course. If you’re a couple.”

“Oh, come on. You’ll love it.” Leander’s enthusiasm didn’t waver, if anything he sounded even more excited.

“It’s too much—”

He interrupted you with a tone so persuasive, “Okay fine, how about just a simple Hogsmeade date, then?”

You sighed at his persistence. It’s really getting too much.

“Leander, it’s really sweet but—”

Suddenly, your conversation was interrupted by a looming shadow casted over the both of you. Glancing up, you saw Sebastian standing there with an uncharacteristically serious expression.

“I’m going to count to three, Prewett, and you are going to stand up and get your arse the fuck out of here.” He demanded.

“What are you going to do about it if I don’t?” He was annoyed by Sebastian's sudden intervention.

The brunette’s gaze was focused on the way Leander had his arms wrapped around your shoulder and the way his hand was caressing your arm at the same time. Then he stared dead into Leander's eyes, “You don’t want to find out.”

Somehow you found yourself caught in the middle of the sudden hostility.

“Sebastian.” You warned him softly.

“Ignore him.” Leander didn't care for the threat. But Sebastian wasn’t having it and when Leander was ready to ignore him and continue his conversation with you, Sebastian grabbed him by his collar that it forced Leander to stand up, and he dragged the red haired boy away and slammed his back into a nearby pillar.

“I told you to fucking stand up and get out of here.” Sebastian scowled.

“Get your filthy hands off of me.” Leander attempted to shrug off Sebastian’s grip but it only grew tighter.

“Then you better get yours away from her.” His voice was so low and menacing. You had no idea what possessed him, because as aggressive as Sebastian could get he wouldn’t be so quick to resort to anything so recklessly physical unless it’s necessary— at least not anymore.

“Are you both out of your minds?” You stood beside the conflicting boys, “Stop being children or you will get into trouble.” The confrontation was drawing more attention from onlookers, and you could sense the tension rising.

A crowd started gathering around to see what the fuss was about. Students nearby paused and turned their heads, curious about the commotion. Whispers and side conversations began to buzz through the group as they watched the confrontation unfold.

You felt a bit awkward with the sudden attention. The whole thing was getting more dramatic than you'd anticipated, and you just wanted to find a way to sort it out before it got worse.

“What is your problem, Sallow?”

“You are the problem, Prewett. Can’t you take the hint?”

“It’s none of your business.” The Gryffindor boy was defensive— as anyone would be if someone just randomly shoved you into the wall and told you what to do.

“It becomes my business when you decide to harass her.”

“You are making a scene. Stop it.” You warned them, hoping they would steer away from the conflict. But they were still too busy with each other.

“Trying to be a big hero, aren’t you? Protecting her?” Leander was clearly taunting him. Sebastian wouldn’t usually allow himself to be bothered by whatever nonsense Leander would do. But this time was different, “She doesn’t need you. She can make her own decision.”

“And she did, when she said no.” Sebastian retorted sharply, “So back off.”

“If you are so worried about me taking her out then you should’ve asked her first. Don’t come here and act all heroic because you missed your chance.” Leander fired back, “If you weren’t such a coward—-”

There went the last cell of Sebastian’s brain that allowed him to think rationally when he decided to punch Leander in the face, sending the red-haired boy stumbling and his nose bleeding.

“Sebastian!” You stepped in between them, trying to push Sebastian back behind the line he just crossed. His eyes were glaring and breaths were rather ragged from the anger, “What the fuck are you doing?”

After being punched unexpectedly, Leander's pride and dignity were hurt. He wouldn't tolerate being attacked without retaliating. He mustered all of his anger and frustration to punch Sebastian with all of his force.

But before he could, Sebastian struck again, landing a second punch on his face. Leander stumbled backwards again, but this time he was quicker to get back on his feet and lunged forward, swinging his fists wildly.

Sebastian was able to dodge a few of his blows, but Leander managed to land a couple of powerful punches on Sebastian's cheek.

Sebastian stepped back, his face red from pain and anger. Now the two of them had no choice but to fight, and you had no choice but to look for some help. Luckily, it wasn’t long for you to reach Professor Hecat, because when you returned to the brawl, Leander was already pinned to the floor with Sebastian on top of him, landing more punches.

Professor Hecat swiftly casted a spell that immediately shoved both of them away from each other.

The two boys stood there with battered faces and were later sent to the same detention as you.

You had no desire in conversing with idiots, so when the three of you shared the space on one of the library aisle, organising books, you gave all your might to ignore them, especially Sebastian.

You thought he’d left his impetuous behaviour back in the catacombs two years ago, but clearly you were wrong. The way you aggressively shoved books into places allowed Sebastian to notice that you were furious.

“I know you’re angry at me.” He said, breaking the silence.

“Oh really? Didn’t think you’d notice. I was being subtle.” You replied sarcastically.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what had gotten into me.” His voice was soft but outright, “You know I don't fight muggle-style.”

You remained cold. There was nothing about his apology that made you feel better. So you continued to ignore him and he tried to speak up again.

“Can we talk?” He pleaded but you ignored him. You picked up a stack of books and moved to the next aisle to shelve them in their proper places.

Sebastian followed you behind, not backing down, “I’m really, really, sorry.”

He seemed genuinely apologetic, but you were reluctant to give in. After all, his actions had caused this entire mess and resulted in the two boys getting detention.

You didn’t want to argue with him, but you couldn’t resist making a point.

“Tell that to Leander and his broken nose.”

Sebastian let out a scoff, “I’m not sorry about that.”

“Seriously Sebastian? You hit him first. He just reacted.” You turned to face him this time.

"He was harassing you," Sebastian defended himself, "I had to do something."

"Did you have to punch him in the face? Repeatedly?”

“Why are you defending him?” His tone was rising, "What do you expect me to do? Just stand by and let him flirt with you?"

“What is so wrong with that?”

“Because—” Then he stopped himself. Eyes flustered and flicked between yours like he was trying to gather his own thoughts. Then he let out a frustrated sigh, “Leander is a self-oriented, self-indulgent, arrogant, selfish, insufferable jerk.”

You shook your head in disbelief and stared dead at him in the eye, “Well, right now it sounds like you were just describing yourself, Sebastian.”

Before you could say anything else, you left him alone in the aisle and this time he didn’t follow you.

—

It was Saturday morning, and while you had no classes to attend, you were still stuck with detention for a portion of the day. Not only did this eat into your weekend leisure time, but you also had to spend it without talking to Sebastian.

You sighed as you placed books somewhere in the corner of the library right where they belonged.

Couldn’t help but think that spending your weekend somewhere in the castle, perhaps the undercroft, reading books and being alone together with Sebastian was where you belonged.

Time sure felt lonely without his presence.

Then as if he could read your mind from miles away he showed up, “Do you like Leander?”

Shocked and confused by the sudden question you turned to find Sebastian standing at the end of the aisle.

His face was a patchwork of bruises and cuts, a visible reminder of the fight he had gotten into with Leander. A purplish bruise marred his cheek, and a small cut above his eyebrow was still fresh. Despite his battered appearance, his eyes were focused intently on you, filled with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

“What?” You asked.

“I spent the entire night thinking about you. I thought maybe you like Leander, because why did you defend him so much yesterday?” He rambled.

You opened your mouth to say something but Sebastian wasn’t finished.

“But then I thought, if you liked him, why did you want to repel him with the potion?” He continued, “And why did you reject him when he asked you out? Five times, over the past month.”

You opened your mouth again, but this time every single word you have learned seemed to have fallen over your head because not a single thing came to your mind.

There were two things that surprised you.

One, Sebastian spent the entire night thinking about you.

Two, Sebastian knew that Leander had been asking you out.

And your brain did not know which one to stress about first.

“You knew about Leander?” You finally said.

“We share every class everyday. You don’t think I’d notice?” He replied with another question, “He wasn’t subtle about it either. Was I not supposed to know?”

You fell quiet, unsure of what to say next. The more you opened your mouth, the more you found yourself with nothing to say.

Sebastian waited for your response, but when it did not come, he continued, “Why did you keep rejecting him?”

You shrugged, slightly flustered, “Simply because I don’t want to go out with him.”

“Why did you not tell me about him, then?”

“It wasn’t worth mentioning,” you replied, avoiding his gaze.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Sebastian stared at you, as if he couldn’t believe your answer.

“It was pointless,” Your tone was rising slightly, “It’s not like I would ever date Leander. I wasn’t even giving him a second thought. So It doesn’t matter.”

Sebastian was silent for a beat before he spoke again. “It matters to me.”

Your pulse raced, and the air suddenly felt tighter.

Sebastian was staring at you, his eyes intent and penetrating. The silence stretched on, and you had to force yourself to look him in the eye

“Everything about you matters to me. You’re my best friend. We’re supposed to share everything, right?” He added, “Isn’t that what best friends do?”

As you stood there, guilt was eating you inside out. Your decision to leave him in the dark unexpectedly hurt him more than you thought. The look in his eyes was so unfamiliar you couldn’t pinpoint his emotion.

He took a step closer.

“Why do you care so much? It’s just Leander.”

“Don’t you get it?” He said softly, “It’s not about Leander. It’s about the fact that he’s been asking you out, flirting with you relentlessly, being so close with you.. in a way that is supposed to be only for me.”

You stood there, stunned. His words hit you like a bolt of lightning, and you felt a mix of shock and confusion wash over you.

Sebastian took another step towards you, his gaze steady and unbreaking, and it was piercing through your soul.

“It’s supposed to be just for me” He repeated the phrase as if he was talking to himself. The look in his eyes was intense, and you could feel how important this was to him.

A moment passed until you realised that you should respond. The longer you stayed silent, the worse it felt. So you spoke up, “Are you jealous?”

“Yes.” He simply replied.

His response set your body ablaze. You could feel your heart pounding in your throat.

“I was supposed to hate you, but instead I woke up that morning in the infirmary and I couldn’t be more sure that I am utterly and completely in love with you.” His voice dropped, “And when I saw you with Leander and hearing all the things that he said, I meant it when I told you I had no idea what had gotten into me but all I knew was every single cell in my body was on fire.”

You thought for sure your heart would explode as all of this sunk in. You had expected anything but a confession. Your heart was beating so fast and hard that you had to concentrate on breathing, or else it felt like you couldn't breathe.

“I spent the entire night thinking about all of the time we've spent.” He added, “I can't stop thinking about the sound of your laughter. The way you'd still genuinely laugh at the most unfunny joke I would tell. Or how your usual bright eyes would fall into a deep immersion when you read. And the way your delicate finger hovers over the edge of a page, turning it over.”

A smile tugged on the corner of Sebastian's lips as he recalled every little detail about you that only he would care about. The beat of your heart went faster with each syllable that came out of his mouth and every nerve in your body was shaking.

“I always wonder how the touch of those fingertips would feel on my skin,” There were so many things he wanted to say to you. Every detail of you that made him so desperately in love, “and how perfect your fingers would be intertwining with mine.”

For a moment, you were one-hundred percent sure this was all a dream. Because everything around you seemed so blurry and all of the sudden everything felt surreal. But when Sebastian took another step closer, and another until he was close enough to grab your hands and intertwine your fingers together, the haze dissipated. The way his touch alerted every single nerve in your body, you knew that this was real— he was real and he was in love with you.

The two of you stood there, inches apart, staring at each other with your emotions overflowing.

“We belong together.” You could see that his intensity and raw emotion was getting the better of him. His words were coming out quick and sudden, “I should’ve asked you out long before Leander did. Just another stupid mistake I made.”

He inched closer and closer until you felt Sebastian's breath on your lips, and your body trembled in anticipation. You took a deep breath and let yourself fall into the moment.

“You could’ve been too late, you know?” You whispered.

“Am I?”

You shook your head and smiled against his lips, “No, you’re not. I’ve been stupidly waiting for you.”

Sebastian's voice was soft and tender as he spoke again, “I’m glad we’re both stupid enough, then. And for many other things that make me glad you're finally mine."

“Even the potion?” You smirked.

“Especially the damn potion.” A smile spread across Sebastian's face.

Your breaths were laced with desire, and your thoughts went to the first kiss between the two of you were going to share. It felt surreal to have arrived at this moment that you had both anticipated for so long.

Your lips were close enough to touch. Your hearts were beating so loudly. And in this moment, it felt like a moment out of time.

When his lips met yours, the world seemed to melt away and everything else faded into the background. It was everything it had built up to be—hot and passionate and exciting.

You kissed him deeply and all was right with the world. Sebastian's hands wrapped around your back, and yours around his neck.

Your senses were all focused on Sebastian, on the kiss and the way he made you feel. This was what you had been waiting for, and it was everything you dreamed of and more.

When you pulled away, your eyes were locked and you found yourselves smiling uncontrollably. There was nothing left to feel awkward or unsure of, and it felt as if a weight had been lifted.

Sebastian brushed his fingers through your hair. You were finally getting your happiness.

"I love you," He whispered against your lips.

“I love you, too.” you replied softly, brushing your noses together.

You spent the rest of the day making out in the deepest corner of the library, neglecting your detention. And when Madam Scribner found the two of you some time later, all dishevelled, you were granted another detention time.

But neither of you cared. Because it was all worth it.

In an extremely rare case, the Revulsaroma potion could have an unprecedented effect, completely opposite to its intended repelling nature. Rather than nullifying or weakening, the potion might paradoxically amplify and reinforce any existing strong positive feelings that the drinker harboured towards the potion-maker. Due to genuine and deep-seated love for the maker, the drinker might experience a surge of intense emotions that can be both overwhelming and consuming, such as, jealousy, protectiveness, and overwhelming affection.

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thedailydescent · 2 months ago

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Every day I come onto this site and try to think of a better, more convincing method of trying to get people to donate to stagnating fundraisers.

I am very disappointed that Hashim & Laila's, Mohammed Eid Matar's, and Yahya's fundraisers have barely budged over the past week, despite the regular updates they and the people promoting them have been giving.

Mohammed (@mohammedmatat) desperately needs a new tent for his family for the upcoming winter. We have already heard stories about heavy rain this week, which the average tent provides little protection for. Farah (@/farahmoo2), for example, has told us that her family's tent got flooded this week, and needed to be rebuilt. A tent in Gaza costs anywhere between $200-$1000 depending on the quality (not including bedding or a toilet), and building one isn't that much cheaper than a ready-made one. I was hoping to get Mohammed's fundraiser to at least the 2k mark by the end of the week, yet we're still at €1,350. Mohammed is only 23, and has two young siblings to take care of, who not only have been injured over the past year, are now, if they do not get access to safe shelter by the time the winter chill sets in, at risk of getting sick. (don't forget that there has been an outbreak of polio in Gaza as well, and they've only recently started the first rounds of vaccinations for children under 10).

Hashim & Laila (@hashimsafadi) are also at an abysmally low amount, still at €1,362 despite the fundraiser being up since Apr 23. Without jobs, how can two people live off of €1,362 for five months? How can you live off of that, put up with being displaced several times, living constantly under threat of being killed in unsafe areas? Being exposed to massive heat waves, suffering "contamination, intestinal infections, skin rashes, jaundice, and infections of the joints, bones, and teeth"? You can't.

Hashim & Laila will also be needing a safe and sanitary environment to live in for the upcoming winter! Please help them out.

And finally, Yahya Bkheet. Yahya has been tirelessly working to get his family, including three children under 10, out of Gaza. They were given until Aug 23 to raise €30k so they could all evacuate together, yet they didn't even make it to the 5k mark. That hasn't stopped Yahya from continuing to try. He has posted an update today of his situation: his mother needs treatment for her heart disease and diabetes, they need at least $200 to fix up the tent for the upcoming winter, his child Anas has contracted a skin disease from the polluted water, and his other child Mira has the flu and needs money for medicine.

They have only raised €5 today! They deserve better than this. Please help this family out.

Living conditions will not be the only thing for these three families to worry about for the upcoming winter. There's also the question of food. A few days ago, it was reported that Israel’s siege now blocks 83% of food aid reaching Gaza. That means 83% of required food aid will not make it into Gaza, up from the 34% that did not make it in 2023. That means the average Gazan eating two meals day will now drop to just one meal every other day. This makes the recent post @/omgthatdress made yesterday telling everyone to report people who send fundraiser asks, and just donate to aid organizations instead, that much more harmful. Guys, there's hardly any aid coming in! From July-September 2024, fresh meat prices have increased by 366%, and fresh fruit 228%. Please give Gazans a chance and donate to vetted fundraisers if you can, so they can at least buy their own groceries. When the cold weather sets in, people naturally become hungrier. Children cannot survive off of one meal every other day. A couple, whose dream is to go back to school and start a family of their own, cannot survive off of one meal every other day.

In other news, there has also been an update from the Mona Abu Hamda Team, who run a mutual aid fund which provides essential supplies such as blankets, food, flour, charcoal for cooking, sanitary products, and financial aid for necessities such as baby milk. There has apparently been a decrease in donations, and they are currently sitting at €75,639 of their €100,000 target. Please also consider donating to them to help Gazans out this winter.

Tagging for further reach (sorry if I've already tagged you today. I am a tiny blog and my posts only get traction if I tag):

@neptunerings @victoriawhimsey @captainsaltymuyfancy @maester-cressen @buttercuparry

@lesbianmaxevans @ana-bananya @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness @just-browsings-world

@danlous @underthejollyroger @lesbianboyfriend @weirdmarioenemies @teabisexual

@robotpussy @khanger @brutaliakhoa @cluelessbot @appsa

#mohammedmatat #matarmoh2024 #hashimsafadi #yayhabkheeblog #yahyabkheet-blog #mutual aid #mutual aid fund #mona abu hamda #mona abu hamda team #current events

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jokingmisfit · 1 year ago

Text

Different Jokers Reacting to you Needing to Take Medicine

Jeremiah Valeska

-This man is a genius. He already knew before you told him. He already did research on any and all medicine you have to take.

-Jeremiah may keep you on your toes for a lot of things but he’s pretty chill about this. You could even take medicine for your mental health when it comes to Jeremiah. If it makes you feel better he’s all for it.

- God forbid the doctor drops you or the pharmacy won’t run the prescription. Jeremiah will not hesitate to start bombing buildings just so you can get what you need.

- If you have to get off one medicine to switch to another he’s going to be right there to analyze your every move (like he doesn’t already) to make sure nothing goes wrong. The second you act off he’s getting you back in there for a better med. Also if you start showing any symptoms he’ll know because he read everything on that medicine.

- He makes sure you take your meds on time everyday. He kind of likes the domesticity of it, the pattern. Jeremiahs stopped mid planning or meeting just to tell/text/call you to take your meds.

-Overall the perfect Joker for having to take medicine. 10/10

Jerome Valeska

-Jerome is the complete opposite of his brother. The man is a loose cannon and is always doing something or other. He had absolutely no idea you were taking meds.

-Let’s hope you bring it up because if you don’t and he finds them he’ll flip shit. He’ll scream and rant and break things. He may even threaten you. He’ll feel so upset and so betrayed. You’ll have to explain very carefully what they’re for.

-If you bring it up, introduce it slowly, mention what’s physically “wrong” that makes you need to take it, then explain what the medicine does. At first he’s going to be hesitant but at least you can hold his attention. He takes things like this very seriously (especially if it’s you).

-He’s not going to be 100% happy about it but he understands. This isn’t about you not liking your brain, it's about you being in pain. He hates when you’re in pain.

-You can’t take mental medication with him. Jerome refuses to “let you destroy your precious mind.”

- If your doctor drops you or there's a problem with the pharmacy he’ll just cause problems. By that I mean he’ll start blowing the brains out onto the floor. Only to steal the medicine.

-You might think that Jerome will continue to know nothing about your medicine but as soon as you stop talking about it he’ll hyperfocus on it for a few hours. He’ll, by the end of his research, know everything about this/these medicine(s).

-He’ll notice if you start having physical or other symptoms he’ll notice but it’ll take a day or so because he’s so all over the place. Once he notices though he’s threatening people to get you back in there to “fix” you.

-He often forgets you even take it until you take them or need to go to the doctor. He just doesn't see it as something he should butt too much into

- He hates seeing you in pain so he’ll let you take them and he’s pretty good with it so I’d say he’s a solid 6/10 for this situation.

Dark Knight/Ledger!Joker

-He’s smart but he’s busy. Joker had an inkling that you were on something, he just didn’t know what.

-He finds out when he comes just waltzing in while you’re taking it or maybe while you’re filling a pill case. He doesn’t freak out on you but he dances questions off his tongue. As long as you’re honest he’ll be fine with it.

-However if you’re taking medicine for your mental health he’s going to put up a bit of a fight. He’s not going to get loud or aggressive, no. Instead he’s going to praise your mind and your way of thinking. He’s going to try and manipulate you into stopping. If you're strong enough to tell him you’re going to take it then he’ll let it go. It’ll come up every once in a while because he doesn’t like it but he won't force you to stop.

-If something goes bad with your doctor or pharmacy, it's sad to say you’re on your own. Joker is busy constantly and doesn’t have the time for any of that. That being said, if it goes on too long you’ll notice the exact type of medicine you need is found in bulk in your living room with a little bow on the top.

-Now let's say you need to switch meds. Jokers going to be right on top of that shit. You’ll probably mention it in passing but the Joker's biggest fear is something happening to you, so he’s going to make sure no stupid pill or shot is screwing you up. The second you show any “odd” symptom he’s crashing into a hospital, stealing a doctor, doing whatever to make it better.

-Joker acts like a distant caregiver in a way. He doesn’t get involved with it often but the moment you make a comment about any struggles you’re having with it he’s going to find a solution

-I’d say he’s pretty good with the medicine unless it’s mental cause then he may be petty sometimes. Overall a good 8/10.

Arthur Fleck/Joker

-He’s the most understanding for physical medicine and the least for mental. Arthur is 100% down for you taking medicine so you’re not in physical pain. Mental medicine is another story. He thinks it’s stupid and useless, he doesn’t take any and he was supposed to, look at how good he’s doing.

-He’s not letting it happen, you can’t take mental medication.

-He probably knew you needed to take it from the beginning. There’s a big chance it’s one of the first topics the two of you even talked about.

-If your doctor or pharmacy drops you or causes issues he’s on top of it. He’s probably the most calm towards them. It’s when they don’t budge that his gun gets drawn. He refuses to let you suffer in pain.

-He knows you really well and he’s always asking how you are. If you get symptoms from a new medicine he notices immediately. It doesn’t matter what is going on, he is going to make sure you’re taken care of.

-He just loves you so much. He’ll always be there, he just can’t let you take meds that will “hurt” your mind.

-He’s great with physical medicine, not mental. He’s an absolute sweetheart. 8/10 just for the sugar.

#joker x reader #ledger joker #ledger!joker x reader #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck joker #jeremiah valeska #jerome valeska #jeremiah valeska x reader #jerome valeska x reader

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gay-dorito-dust · 8 months ago

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How I think Jason shows his love includes…

Annotating/highlighting romantic passages or moments of high tension between two characters in the books he reads before passing them over to you. He’d even have the exact pages marked and when asked why that was, all he says is that they were the key pivotal moments in the story that he thoroughly enjoyed, and all with a cherry red face might I add as he intentionally leaves out the fact that he envisioned that it was the two of you in those moments as he annotated the books.

Will stand close to you for a plethora of reasonings but the main one being the fact that he wanted to be the first one you look towards when in need of anything. Comfort, protection or reassurance. Just say the word and Jason will do it without question like an obedient dog, he just wants to be someone you can hopefully rely on and trust in the future, only if you let him in first.

Jason just wants you to know that no matter what happens he will always be in your corner, uncaring for what the future will have in store for you both, whether it’d be good or bad. He’d willingly stick his neck out for you in any given situation, even if it meant putting himself in the line of fire, a few new scars won’t bother him if they were earned by keeping you safe and sound.

He doesn’t care about himself nearly enough as he cares about you and your well-being. He just doesn’t and it’s not until you were pleading with him to take care of himself, that he ultimately decided that to care for you was to care for himself as well; So for your sake he keeps himself relatively stable.

Not a great mindset but it’s Jason, he’s not exactly a practitioner of affirmations, journaling his feelings or having healthy habits.

Smiles more when he’s with you, even if it’s corny dad jokes or just bad jokes in general, Jason still smiles and might even let out a chuckle now and then.

Spends an unhealthy amount of time with you that it was impossible for you to be seen without Jason following close behind. Also Jason isn’t great with voicing his feelings in wanting to spend time with you, and instead just asks what you’re planning to do later on and whether there’s room for one more and takes it from there. He cuts out the bullshit and gets straight to the point of what he wanted to ask you.

Night rides on his bike.

Now this is mainly a boost for his ego as he loves feeling you clinging onto him for dear life as he speeds down the road with little care for the speed limit. He’s such a prick but will slow down if he see that your visibly distressed with the speed of which he was going, after all he was always going to prioritises your wants and needs above his own.

Teaches you the basic defence and even teaches you in the usage of weapons, and all for the sake of your own protection.

He doesn’t like the idea of you walking through the streets of Gotham amidst criminals and creeps alike without at least some form of defence. Jason doesn’t trust anyone with your safety except if their names happen to be Roy and or Dick. Other then that, Jason likes to be the one protecting you but had to accept that he wouldn’t always be there to do so, which lead him to constantly pester you into taking up his offer in teaching you self defence.

God knows what he’d do if something happened to you, all he knows is that it would be brutal, violent and bloody for sure.

It’s annoying at first, being pestered and all, but you understand Jason’s reasonings and went through with it for his sake.

Lastly Jason trusts you enough to bear his heart out to you and be vulnerable in your presence, so much so to the point that you knew stuff that he wasn’t as willing to disclose to even the ones he considers his closest friends and family. It’s not often that Jason bears it all to someone but when he does, he does so out of confidence that they wouldn’t use it against him down the line.

He hopes that this method could be applied to you as well and he thanks every god in existence when you open up your arms for him to fall into them in acceptance. He smiles as he closes his eyes, feeling warm and safe within your arms, forever wanting to stay here for as long as forever allows.

#dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfic #dc fic #dc x y/n #dc comics x reader #dc fanfiction #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic

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alwaysmoncheri · 8 months ago

Note

hiii would u be open to writing remus lupin x reader with the prompt *x put head on y’s shoulder* “just don’t leave…” with either remus saying it or the reader? no worries if not <3 🦌🦌

hi, my love!! thank you for requesting! i hope this is what you’re looking for! i was in a little bit of a writer block last night so this may not be my best work, i apologize for that, honey </3

cw: fem!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of remus being a werewolf, remus feels insecure, the marauders not being very helpful, established relationship, crying, 0.9k

Remus isn’t one to hide who he is, you know he’s a werewolf, he’s been vulnerable with you before, so when he starts to become a little distant from you, you know exactly why. The past few days have been rough for him, you know. Leading up to a full moon is almost always worse than the aftermath. But this time, Remus seems particularly bothered. He still holds your hand to classes and reads to you at night, but something about the way he always is distracted, like loosely holing your hand without knowing and constantly losing his place while reading makes you feel like his mind is truly elsewhere.

The Marauders aren’t helping the situation either. Sure, they’re supportive of their friend and you know they’re always there for him, but the pitying glances don’t go unnoticed by both you and Remus and you don’t presume he is very fond of those looks. You don’t blame him.

At dinner, the night before the full moon, James, Sirius, and Peter keep repeating the same set of motions. Their eyes dart from each other, their food, to Remus, and back to each other. You fight the urge to roll your eyes at their obvious display of concern because Remus doesn’t really need that right now and they should know that after all this time. After tolerating the silent glances for the majority of dinner, Remus shifts uncomfortably, his eyes not leaving his food. You gently slide your hand into his, hoping offer some comfort, and when he accepts you take it a step furthur and draw small circles with your thumb on the back of his hand. This doesn’t last long. When the other three boys offer sympathetic smiles, Remus notices and stands from his seat, dropping your hand and walking out of The Great Hall with quick strides.

“Would you guys quit it?” you hiss at the boys across the table who’s eyes widen at the abrupt snap of your head in their direction.

“What?” They reply in unison and share a few nervous glances before returning to your harsh gaze.

“Remus clearly isn’t doing well,” you say, pointing out the obvious, “the least you can do is not look at him like he’s dying.” you add gesturing in the direction of the door, where Remus had walked out of.

“We’re not—”

“Save it,” you cut James off, who makes an attempt to defend the three of them. You roll your eyes, standing from your seat, “I’m going to check on him.” you state before following the previous path of your boyfriend, out the door and to your dorms.

When you arrive in the common room and head towards the boys’ dorm you hear quiet sobs echoing through the door. Your throat tightens and you hesitate to move towards the sound, but you do anyway because you know Remus needs somebody and you’re always willing to be that somebody.

“Remus?” you call out before pushing the door open and are met with a sniffling Remus, eyes red and puffy. Your heart almost breaks in two, the sight enough to make you feel the clenching in your chest and for a moment, you unknowingly hold your breath.

“Hey, lovely.” Remus greets and his voice cracks with the attempt to cover a sob that might’ve escaped his lips.

“Oh, honey.” you whisper and Remus bows his head, with shame or just to wipe the tears off his face, you don’t know. You walk towards the bed before sitting next to him, hand rubbing his shoulder, slowly sliding down to hold his hand, once more, “Do you want to talk about it?” you offer, bringing Remus to lift his head up and meet your gaze, a lump grows in your throat at his broken expression and you try to keep it together for him.

“I’m just so tired—” Remus starts, before a sob escapes his lips. He reaches out for you and you don’t hesitate to bring him into your arms, his head rests on your shoulder, your hands cupping the back of his neck, while his hands wrap around you waist, “ —I don’t want to be like this anymore.” Remus admits, his voice breaking and you feel your shirt dampen with tears.

“Hey, I’m here.” you say, gently running your hands through Remus’s hair and up and down the length of his back, “James, Sirius and Peter are here.” You add and you feel Remus’s sobs turn to sniffles against your shoulder. “Even if they get on your nerves, they mean well.”

“I know…” Remus says, the sound muffled against your shoulder. He lifts his head, your eyes meeting his puffy ones, “Is it okay if we just stay like this?” Remus asks hesitantly, as if you would ever say no to him.

“It’s more than okay.” You whisper, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. You start to shift your body further onto the bed before Remus’s tight grip around your waist prevents you from doing so. Your eyebrows furrow with confusion before hearing Remus’s desperate voice.

“Don’t leave me, please…” Remus begs, clinging onto you.

I’m never going to leave you,” you reply and Remus nods continuously against your shoulder, his hair falling into his face and brushing yours, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Remus says, his voice shaky but calmer than before, “I don’t know what I would do without you.” He admits and your heart warms with his words.

You smile, pulling the both of you back onto his bed in a more comfortable position with his head still tucked into your shoulder, “And you’ll never have to know,” you whisper before you close your eyes and allow yourself to rest.

masterlist . remus lupin masterlist . taglist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

tags: @googie-jeon, @annoyingmidgetwhowrites, @jordie-gvf, @marauderswhxre, @vixparker, @moonsupremacy01, @enamoredwithbella

#my works ──★ ˙☕️ ̟ !!#masterlist #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin angst #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin smut #remus lupin fic #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin oneshot

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mouwrites · 10 months ago

Note

Hey can we get the Ninjas with an S/O who's basically Jessica rabbit and how they would deal with people constantly hitting on their S/O?

Of course my dear!! Unrelated but I love Jessica Rabbit,,,

Ninjago - Ninjas With an s/o Who Gets Flited With a Lot

Kai

When he first sees someone flirting with you, his initial reaction is a sort of pride

He's happy that other people are noticing how smoking hot his s/o is

But that only lasts for half a second; then comes the jealousy

He hops up and tries to look casual while he saunters over and wraps an arm around your waist

He'll stare coldly at the person flirting with you, trying to intimidate them

When it doesn't work he uses his voice, trying to show the person that they're not welcome

"And just who are you again?"

He'll only get more passive aggressive as the interaction goes on

There have been times that he's escalated it to straight-up aggression, and even violence, at which point you had to take it upon yourself to remove you both from the situation

You'll have to talk to him while he cools down, letting him vent about how angry the person was making him

In the end he knows it's not your fault and that you'd never leave him

Still, reassuring him on that front would probably help him calm down

He's just mad that some scumbag thought they could take you from him

After such an instance he usually sticks close to you, making sure to keep a hand on you to demonstrate that you're together

Cole

He doesn't really care when people flirt with you

He knows that it's only natural; you're the most gorgeous person in the world to him (and others, evidently)

He trusts that you'll be loyal and that you can handle yourself

But he still keeps an eye on you when out in public

He's watching to see if you're uncomfortable and need help; only then will he step in

He knows all your tells, but you guys also have a secret hand gesture that means you need help

So, when he sees the gesture, or any body language signaling that you're uncomfortable, he jumps into action

He sidles up to your side, placing himself as close as possible to you

He'll try to be at least somewhat pleasant at first: just emphasizing that you guys are dating, hoping to put the person off

But if that doesn't work he'll be more blunt

"Dude. You're being creepy. Get lost."

When they finally leave, he checks to make sure you're okay

Your well-being is much more important to him than any doubts he might have about your relationship

Not that he has any; he's fully confident that your relationship is strong

But if he did he'd still put you first

If you want him to be your body guard for the rest of the night, he'll happily oblige

(and he makes a pretty good guard, too, being so huge and intimidating (when he wants to be))

Jay

He HATES when people flirt with you

Like, he knows why; you're obviously always the most attractive person in the room

But you're his s/o! Other people shouldn't be flirting with you!

Sometimes he wishes that you could just wear a big sign that says "I'm taken"

(He has actually asked you to do this before)

The second he sees someone talking to you, he's already inching closer to see what's up

Even if they're not being outright flirty, he's still suspicious of them

He'll keep getting closer, not bothering to be sneaky at all

This often has the unintentional effect of the person leaving before he even gets within talking range

They just get creeped out that this guy is glaring at them while slowly yet steadily approaching

If they don't get scared off, he wraps an arm around you and intensifies his glare

He'll insert himself into the conversation crudely, speaking directly to you and "ignoring" the other person

"Hey, babe. Ready to go back to our shared apartment? Where we live together because we're partners?"

Then the person usually takes the hint, but by then they're probably more amused than annoyed

When they're finally gone Jay still watches them, still glaring

He's a little insecure that you'll leave him, just because you're so stunning (and, admittedly, sometimes the people flirting with you are, too)

He'll need lots of reassurance that he's good enough for you :(

Zane

Out of all the ninjas, Zane is the most bothered when people flirt with you

He knows he's not the best when it comes to romance, so he feels like every time someone flirts with you he's instantly being one-upped

It makes him more sad and insecure than anything

He knows that you're loyal to him, so he's not jealous

But he doesn't know why you're so adamant to stay with him, especially when someone flirts with you

He just frowns while he listens to their clever pick up lines, sometimes not even understanding them

It makes him feel a little better when you frown, too

When you send him the "a little help here?" look, though, that's when his heart skips a beat

It's his chance to show why he's the one you chose

He balks for half a second, but quickly gathers the courage to insert himself into the interaction

He places himself at your side, standing like a perfect gentleman and even smiling faintly (despite the fact that he feels a little inferior to the flirter)

Then it's your cue to emphasize what a gentleman he is, and how disinterested you are in everyone else

"This is my boyfriend, Zane. He's always so respectful in. Just look at how he's standing! Never gets all handsy or flirty in public, either."

Zane just nods, his smile growing along with his confidence

He needs to hear those words about as much as his "competitor" does

Once they're gone, he feels much more confident about himself and why you want to be with him :)

Lloyd

Lloyd respects you immensely; he knows you're loyal, honorable, brave... and most of all, drop-dead gorgeous

It's that last thing that worries him a little

Not because it makes him question your other merits; not at all

It makes him more conscious about others' merits (or rather, lack of)

He doesn't trust people to be respectful to you

He tries his best not to hover when you're in public, but he does get a touch anxious if you don't check in every now and again

Especially if you're the type to get uncomfortable when someone flirts with you

He tries to prevent flirting from happening in the first place, but sometimes it just can't be helped

The second he sees someone flirting with you, anxiety strikes

He knows how... inappropriate flirting can get, and just the thought makes him blush

He doesn't want you to be subject to that

So he'll hurry to your side, turning the situation away from romance

He won't be nasty or try to scare the person off, he'll just redirect the conversation

"Hey, how about that game last night? The, uh... sports... game..."

He's trying 😭

He doesn't want to disrespect this person (even though they're low-key disrespecting you)

When they're gone he'll double-check to make sure they didn't make you uncomfortable or anything

As long as you're good, he's good :) until someone else comes up

Nya

She also gets flirted with a lot, especially operating in a team of all boys

So she knows the struggle, and she's fully equipped to help you out

She'll teach you the tricks she's learned to scare off creeps, but of course she's also always more than happy to step in

You guys have a complete code language of phrases and gestures that mean things ranging from "creep o'clock, be on guard" to "I'm good, are you?" to "please save me"

To give an example: if you're both in a conversation and someone is starting to seem like they have bad intentions, you can say "I saw a snake a while ago," which means "potential creep right here. thoughts?"

Responses include: "so did I," ("yep, let's ditch") or "no, it was a rubber hose, remember?" ("let's stick around a little longer")

It's a very intricate language that only expands over time

You guys actually have a lot of fun making and using it

And it's obviously quite useful

But in terms of jealousy, since Nya knows what it's like to be harassed, she knows it's not a challenge to one's loyalty

She totally trusts you, and expects you to feel the same

But sometimes when she just really doesn't like someone, she'll put a protective arm around you and make it obvious that you're hers

When they're finally gone, you guys either giggle about it or watch them leave with scowls; either way you make sure to check in on each other first

In general, though, you guys learn to have fun expelling unwarranted advances; it's almost like a fun little game you play together :]

Thank you for this request! And thanks for reading, take care sweet duckies <33

(divider by saradika)

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prettieinpink · 11 months ago

Text

5K SPECIAL | CREATING YOUR OWN GARDEN𝜗𝜚

This is a guide to make your mind like your own garden flourishing with plants, flowers and butterflies. Having a good mental mindset, and being in the right state of mind is essential to being the best version of yourself.

This guide is divided into four sections: mindset, self-care, mental wellness and emotional intelligence. I hope you can take away something useful and take care of yourself! 💖

MINDSET

Your mindset can easily determine how you go through life. It influences how you feel, act, behave and your thoughts. When you have a poor mindset, it is going to be difficult to go through life, even if your life is easy.

However, once we grow and improve our minds, it is easier for us to navigate life, improve our well-being and increase our chances of success.

Before we get into mindset shifts, I want to explain how exactly you can implement them in your life. I feel like there’s so much talk about mindset, but no one exactly explains on how to implement them.

IMPLEMENTING

The first thing to implementing mindset shifts is making a conscious effort to be aware of your thoughts. If you want, practice mindful activities to improve your self-awareness of your thoughts.

You have to be able to catch a thought in its passing and whoosh it away from your mind. If you don’t whoosh it away, those simple thoughts build each time which can soon turn into the way you think.

Secondly, after increasing your awareness, identify what exactly about your thoughts or mindset you’d like to shift, and what you would like to shift to.

Thirdly, is to completely immerse yourself in that mindset shift. The mind learns through repetition, meaning that repeating it enough will make your mind learn it.

Set your mindset shift as your weekly intention, say affirmations, and prayer, read books on it, put a quote on your phone as your wallpaper, just make it so that mindset shift is constantly on your mind.

Lastly, do small actionable things that reinforce that mindset shift. I recommend you do at least one habit every day for this.

This is not the only method to implement mindset shifts, but for me, it’s the one that is highly effective. I recommend doing some research on your own, and making adjustments when needed depending on how you think.

MINDSET SHIFTS

This whole part we’ll talk about the mindset shifts I think everyone should at least try to implement in their lives if they want to improve themselves. These mindset shifts are my absolute favourites and they improved the quality of my life.

After each one, I’ll state a small habit you can incorporate that contributes to that shift.

Live your life with your highest self in mind.

This is more intentional living than an actual mindset shift, but still as important. Whatever you do throughout the day, consider if it aligns with your highest self. If not? Release it. Your highest self knows what's best for you, trust them.

At the end of the day, reflect on your daily habits, which include all habits you did today whether they were ideal or not. What habits aligned with your highest self and which didn’t? The ones that didn’t, why? How can you change or remove this habit to get closer to your highest self?

Rejection is just redirection.

As someone who has gotten rejected from the things that they wanted and felt so lost in the pursuit of fulfilment, this mindset shift saved me. You have to stop chasing the things that aren’t meant for you if life has proved it isn’t.

While I’m not saying give up after the first try, but try to step back and assess the situation. If you are qualified and ready for this thing, then why is it still not yours? Because it isn’t meant for you. God is trying to nudge you into a different path, recognise his signs.

To handle rejection better, look for the lesson(s) you’ve learnt, and the skills you grew and see if there is another area of life that you can apply them to.

Keep yourself on a pedestal.

I am worthy so much to me. It sounds like a weird sentence, but you should start treating yourself like a treasure and avoid giving out that same treatment to most people because you have your soul, which homes itself in your body. Every day, you are living through this soul and body.

So, why would you take care of someone else’s soul and body? You are never going to be the soul that lives in their body, or the body which homes their soul. Don’t neglect yourself in the priority of someone else.

Practice setting boundaries with others and recognising when someone wants more than what you’re willing.

You choose the life that you want.

You have choices and options every day to do things that will eventually have an outcome. Whether this outcome supports the vision of your dream life or not, all depends on how you choose to live your life now.

I don’t have a habit with this one but keep in mind that absolutely nothing is controlling you, and your choices are of free will. Circumstances can change, but that is why we have to adapt and be flexible.

Fear is a step to success

If you’re not scared, you’re not doing it right. Fear can hold us back, but that is why we have to twist fear into a source of motivation instead. If we were always in our comfort zone, stepping back when we feel a sliver of fear, we allow fear to dictate our life and its course.

You can’t be successful unless you do the uncomfortable. For this one, do something each day that scares you or makes you uncomfortable. It doesn’t have to be anything extreme, but simple things like exercising longer than usual or talking to someone who you wouldn’t imagine yourself with. Those little risks are so important.

Embarrassment is not a real emotion

This one is a bit controversial, but I do not believe in the concept of embarrassment. Yes, things can sometimes be awkward, but it is fully in your control if you want to feel ashamed or not. Being embarrassed only holds you back, and doesn’t allow you to live life to its fullest.

I would recommend doing a small risk every day as well, but of things that would usually feel awkward.

Progress over perfection/completion

Perfectionism which is allowed to be nurtured over time can create an avoidance mindset towards doing harder things in life. While we should strive for excellence in everything we do, we shouldn’t allow it to consume us.

(the avoidance mindset is when we put off/avoid tasks that we believe to be out of our abilities, and so that completion of the task is poor quality/not done well.)

This one is less common, but I know a few people who would not do a task if they knew it would not be fully completed in their desired time frame. However, each minute of work contributes to the results or completion of something.

Every day, do one thing that will add up to the completion of your long-term goals.

To welcome tomorrow, you have to let go of yesterday.

Living in the past makes us neglect our present self. I’m not saying forget everything that’s happened, but never allow the past to consume your mind. Acknowledge that you’ve been hurt, you’re longing or you were happier. Then, release it.

Journaling is the perfect way to stay in touch with the present. You can type it, write it, vlog, draw, or compose to journal.

Everyone has their beauty.

This one helped me a lot with comparison. I saw beauty, not as a measure or a value of someone, but rather something that everyone has uniquely and it cannot be valued. I have my sense of beauty, and you have your beauty as well. We are two different people with unique features, traits and qualities, so our ‘beauty’ can’t be measured against each other.

Define your beauty. You could be smart, feminine, book beauty or dark, flowers, creative beauty. You add your details to your beauty and never try to define someone else's.

To conclude this section, your mindset is very powerful. To achieve your goals, work on your mindset. Also, don’t try to work on more than one mindset shift at a time. Implement one fully then work on the next one. It could be overwhelming if you’re doing more than one.

SELF-CARE

The next chapter of this guide is about self-care. Self-care is important for maintaining balance in our lives and generally keeping ourselves happy. However, most people don’t understand the concept of self-care, so they just end up doing a bunch of random things and wondering why they don’t feel better.

Yes, you can coddle or pamper yourself when you want, but it is not self-care. While activities from these three things do overlap, do not confuse the terms with each other.

Self-care is simply what it says. Taking care of yourself. Taking care of yourself looks different for everyone. My idea of self-care will be different to yours.

REDEFINING SELF-CARE.

When you imagine what self-care looks like, it’s typically someone else’s definition of self-care which has been reinforced in your mind. You have to redefine your idea of self-care to match your goals, energy levels and circumstances.

Before you do, self-care is not always about taking a break. It seems that way, however, self-care can also be having the discipline to do the things that you don’t want to, but are good for you.

Here are some questions to help you redefine your self-care:

What does self-care mean to you? Does that meaning align with your current values and needs?

Do you have any negative associations or misconceptions of self-care? Why?

How do I feel in all areas of my life? (physically, mentally, spiritually, professionally). What areas need more attention and how can I improve that area(s)?

What activities bring me happiness, fulfilment and a sense of renewal?

What tasks do I have to do, which are good for me but I hesitate in completing that task?

How would I like to feel after complementing my self-care rituals?

Envision your life if it had complete balance and self-care incorporated. What habits would you be doing to support that vision?

My idea of self-care is completing all of my non-negotiables, maintaining a healthy lifestyle, taking somewhat productive breaks and talking to others daily.

THE SEVEN PILLARS OF SELF-CARE

Self-care has seven pillars, which you all need to take care of to have a balanced life. However, balanced self-care does not mean equal attention to each pillar. It means that each one is up to the same standard of self-care you’ve put for yourself. So, you need to allocate your attention appropriately.

MAJOR PILLARS

Physical - The well-being of your body.

Mental - The state of your mental health, mind and emotions.

Spiritual - The strengthening of your relationship with God while nourishing your holy spirit.

Personal - Doing things that bring you enjoyment and fulfilment + embracing your identity.

MINOR PILLARS

Social - Connecting with friends, family or even strangers.

Professional - Your work/school life.

Environment - Keeping your space clean and extracting anything that holds you back.

Major and minor do not add or take away the value each category has, it just means that major pillars may need more attention compared to the minor ones which may need less attention. Of course, you may need to focus more on a minor pillar, as self-care is individual to you.

I would’ve added a list of things that you could do for each category, but I want you to think about what you need for each instead of relying on strangers with different lives for self-care.

Maybe you need to focus on exercising and doing your hobbies more. Or you need to create a better work/life balance for yourself. It all depends on your values, needs and circumstances.

MENTAL WELLNESS

Mental wellness is the state of our cognitive, emotional and psychological functioning. When we are mentally well, we can cope better with challenges, develop a habit of having positive thoughts, and greater happiness and improve most areas of our lives overall.

There are a lot of things that contribute to our mental wellness, and I most likely won’t have everything here. Just a little disclaimer as well, it is completely normal to have a fluctuating mental state especially when we are going through unfavourable change.

DIGITAL MINDFULNESS

Social media is a huge part of our lives but is also the main factor of mental destruction. I’m not going to say delete all of your social media, but I want to introduce to you a few ways to mindfully consume and rules with managing screen time.

MINDFUL CONSUMPTION

To consume content mindfully, go onto apps intentionally and know what your purpose is when using that app. For example, if you want to find new habits that you can do, you could search on Tumblr or if you want a quick break from something stressful you can watch an episode of something on Netflix.

It doesn’t matter what the purpose exactly is, but the action of being intentional.

After you consume what you want, download images, and screenshots, and take notes or any documentation of what you found/learnt. This is more so the information is remembered/used.

Manage your notifications. You do not need notifications from every app. Except for messages and phones, I do not put notifications on my device. I believe that if something is important enough, I’ll remember to check my phone later without the help of a notification.

Only consume quality content. It is so easy to consume content that has obviously been reposted or is blatantly spreading misinformation. Only consume from people who you trust and you’ve followed/subscribed to. While yes, you can explore but be very mindful when doing so.

You should be decluttering, organising and deleting on your devices routinely. This reduces the amount of distractions on your phone and makes it more intentional. Only keep the things that align with your needs, values and goals.

DIGITAL BOUNDARIES

Have rooms or zones in the house in which you’re not allowed to use any devices or the devices you choose. For example, the bed, bathroom, office, when you’re eating at the dining table, etc.

An alternative is having a period of a day when device usage is not allowed. It could be right after you wake up, right before you go to sleep or just in the middle of the day. Either, I recommend you have a time or place in which device usage is not allowed.

While I encourage everyone to keep up with socialising with their loved ones and friends, I don’t support dropping everything just to talk to someone. E.g If somebody wants to text while you’re in the middle of a study sesh, just say you’ll talk later.

MANAGING STRESS

Stress is an unwelcome yet common feeling we all have. No matter what’s on your plate, we tend to stress a lot, especially in a society that is going so fast and makes us feel like we’re falling behind.

To manage stress, you need to be self-aware of when you feel stressed. A lot of people actually can’t recognise when they feel stressed, and I am one of those people. Instead, I rely on mental or physical signs that tell me I’m feeling stressed out.

SIGNS OF STRESS

Unusual lack of motivation or discipline

Feeling tired constantly even if haven’t done anything exhausting

Inconvenience impacts you more

Overthinking about small things

Trouble with sleeping

Low appetite

Focusing is harder

Crying or feeling tearful over small things

This is not the complete list of symptoms, but these are the things I feel/do when I feel stressed. Stress will look different for everyone, so you need to be able to create your own list of signs when you feel stressed.

CREATING A STRESS MANAGEMENT PLAN

Creating a plan helps you to be prepared to effectively address and cope with stress. It allows you to be more productive and improves mental health when you use this plan when needed.

Here are a few steps to creating your own!

Identify stress triggers. What do you dread the most? What makes you feel drained? What do you overthink about? Answer these questions to figure out what triggers your stress.

Assess your coping strategies. Notice if you have any ways of coping that are self-destructive, as this only contributes to your stress.

Choose 1-3 activities that are fun to you and are not self-destructive. These activities do not have to be productive or beneficial, but they have to make you feel relaxed and generally feel better

Choose one relaxation technique and one self-care activity. These are up to you, as we tend to neglect self-care relaxation when we’re stressed.

Optional, but have one person who you can talk to when you’re stressed. When we are stressed, we tend to look at the smaller picture but talking to someone else helps us gain a greater perspective on the matter.

PRETTIEINPINK’S EXAMPLE PLAN

(If doing something that is my stress trigger, slot a time in the day to do my plan.)

Journal about why I’m stressed

Make a cup of strawberry and mango tea

Read a nice story while drinking tea

Guided stress meditation

Eat some fruits

Another thing when creating you plan to not restrict yourself using time. Allow yourself to take as much time as needed to alleviate yourself of stress.

EMOTIONAL INTELLIGENCE

Being emotionally intelligent is a skill. It is the ability to understand, process and communicate emotions effectively.

There are times when we do sometimes let our emotions take over and they dictate our actions, thoughts and words. This is why we need to build this skill, to get that control over our emotions back.

Thinking before you speak is an oldie but goodie. What we say can drastically influence the current situation for better or for worse. If you think that what you might say is rude, offensive or crude, don’t say it at all.

Also, stay quiet! I am all for standing up for yourself when being disrespected, but you need to recognise when someone is trying to rile you up... They WANT a reaction out of you. Most likely to use against you. Silently exit the situation instead.

If you are someone who gets a lot of energy from big emotions like anger, dejection, sadness, and jealousy, try to channel that energy into something that requires you to have a lot of energy and is beneficial to you. Keeping that energy in until you blow up is a no-no.

Not everyone is trying to hold you back with ill intent. People’s previous experiences can influence the advice they give to you because they have your best interest at heart. They know that their method worked, which is why they’re advising it. These types of people don’t understand that there is more than one way, but they still love you.

Avoid prolonging emotions. When you’re sad, don’t listen to depressing music. When you’re angry, don’t consume ragefuel. It’s very easy in this age of consuming to amplify therefore prolonging emotions, but it holds us back. Process it, and move on.

Stop acting on a whim. Go where your heart takes you, but reflect on it and create a plan. When you do, you end up in unfavourable circumstances. The most common one is working so hard to get to a certain point, only to realise that you don’t even like it. This is why reflection is important.

Be kind even when you’re not receiving it. Kindness is only kind when we do it out of pure love instead of personal gain. Stop expecting people to be kind to you after you’ve been kind to them. Kindness is a debt-free action.

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