#it has consumed my life for the past month and will continue to consume me for months more

[roses-fallen]

within 30 minutes...

[cameronsprincess]

THE STORM (PT. 2) — J.M

— summary: it’s been six months since that night at the chateau with jj, and he’s back for more.

— CW: mean!jj, maybe forced proximity??, slight breeding kink, slapping, choking, degrading, unprotected piv sex.

— note: i kinda came up with something for this, and have had it in my drafts for a minute.. i queued it up before i went on my break, hope y’all enjoy and i’ll be back soon! you can read part one here if you haven’t already!

It’s been six months since that night. The night that has consumed your every waking thought, and every nightmare you had.

You’d always known JJ hated you, so you don’t know why it really surprised you that things went down the way they did. JJ was a horrible person to put it nicely. Sure, you felt for him at times, his home life not being the best and all, but after that night, you stopped caring, you stopped trying, and you tried your hardest to ignore him.

But it’s hard to ignore someone who continually puts themself in your line of sight. You knew you’d still see him, seeing as the two of you are both in the same friend group, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t ignore his presence. The more you tried to ignore him though, the harder he tried to get your attention.

He’d throw mean jabs your way, shoulder check you as he walked past you, you’d catch him staring at you from across a room or when you and your friends are gathered around a late night fire his bright blue eyes stayed glued on you when no one else was paying attention.

This was one of those moments.

You and your friends decided to have a fire at the chateau, and the only thing you could focus on was the blonde whose blue eyes were burning a hole into the side of your face.

“So like I said, he’s a dick, and I hope our dad kicks him out soon.”

You blink once. Twice. Three times before finally putting your focus back on Sarah who had been talking to you.

“I’m so sorry, Sare. I’m just out of it tonight, what’d you say?”

Sarah places a loving hand on your shoulder before laughing. “It’s cool, just me complaining about Rafe, per usual. Are you okay?”

You slowly nod your head, letting your head hang and your eyes focus on the seltzer you had in your hands. Truth was, you were far from okay. Even after everything JJ has put you through — before and after you had sex with him — you couldn’t get him out of your head. You wanted to feel him again, you wanted to let him ravage you again, and you hated yourself for it.

“Yeah I’m good. Just tired, I think I’m gonna call it a night,” You pause, looking up and calling for John B. “You mind if I sleep in the spare room tonight?”

John B smiles back at you, nodding his head once. “Yeah that’s fine! Looks like you got the couch tonight, J.”

Your eyes flit over to JJ, his intense fiery gaze already on you. The corners of his lips lift into a small smile, but it looked evil. “Yeah, that’s cool.” He said lowly, responding to JB but his eyes never left yours.

Your entire body feels like it’s on fire despite the cold December air, and it wasn’t from the large fire blazing in front of you. No, it’s JJ and his all consuming presence that has your body feeling like it’s burning from the inside out.

You quickly drop your eyes, downing the last of your seltzer and crushing it in your hand. You tell your friends goodnight and head inside the old house, tossing the can into the trash and making your way down the small hallway and into the guest bedroom.

You hated the way JJ made you feel. You hated him. You hated how you still wanted him even after he used you and quite literally tossed you to the side when he was done with you.

His words have torn you apart the last six months. “We don’t talk about this, ever. got it? It was just.. hate sex? Someone had to fuck the attitude out of you. This changes nothing, you mean nothing to me, and i still hate you.”

You’re stripping yourself of your jeans and thick sweater, getting ready to climb into the bed when the unmistakable sound of the bedroom door squeaking open has you turning fast on your heels.

JJ.

“What.. What’re you doing in here?”

You hate the way your voice has a slight shake to it, the way you don’t sound confident and how your entire body is shaking in his presence. But most importantly, you hate the way your pussy is throbbing, growing wet at just the sight of JJ and his fucking stupidly beautiful face.

He smirks at you, reaching a hand behind him and locking the door. You take a cautious step backward, your eyes narrowing and head cocked slightly to the side as you watch him watch you.

“JJ! What the fuck are you-”

The rest of your sentence dies when JJ reaches you with just two long strides, his large, calloused hand wrapping around your throat and shoving you into the wall behind you.

“You’re driving me fucking insane. You know that? I fucking hate you, yet, I can’t get you out of my fucking head.”

Your eyes go wide, tears clouding your vision as you try and gasp for air. Your lips move, trying to choke out a response or anything, but all that comes out is strangled nonsense.

“I’ve tried! I’ve tried fucking other girls, I’ve tried staying away from you. But you’re fucking everywhere. Do you know how goddamn irritating that is? Why can’t you just go back to figure eight and stay there? Why the fuck do you keep comin’ around here?”

You lift your arms, gripping onto his wrist that holds your throat and clawing at it, begging him to release you. It’s not your fault he can’t stop thinking about you. You weren’t the one that came onto him that night, it was him! So why are you being blamed? Why is he making it so hard to breathe? So hard to… To..

Black dots take over your vision, your body going numb as JJ tightens his hand around your throat, squeezing so hard you’re close to blacking out.

JJ senses your body going slack in his hold and releases you, stepping back and watching as you hunch over, hands gripping your knees as you suck in breath after breath of sweet oxygen.

Once your head is not longer spinning and you’re breathing properly again, you slowly lift your body, your pissed off gaze finding JJ still standing there.

“Fuck you, JJ! I didn’t do shit! You came onto me that night! You told me that it changed nothing, so frankly, I don’t fucking feel sorry that you can’t get me out of your head, in fact, it brings me great pleasure to know I’m all you think about,” you pause, squeezing your eyes shut and sucking in a slow, long breath of air. “So if you don’t fucking mind, I’m exhausted and just want to be left the fuck alone!”

You move to climb into the bed, but JJ grips your upper arm tightly pulling you back and flush into his firm body. His head dips down, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear and sending a shudder through your body.

His warm breath fans across your sensitive skin, and your nipples harden in response. Fuck him. You won’t give in easily this time.

“I think you want to fuck me again. I think, I’ve been in this pretty little head just as much as you’ve been in mine,” He pauses, his lips leaving a soft kiss on your temple. “Lay on the bed, Y/L/N. Now.”

You turn your head to look at JJ, your eyes narrowed into thin slits as you contemplate what to say. He’s not entirely wrong, but you’d be stupid to sleep with him again.

“Fuck. You. I refuse to let you fuck me again.”

JJ’s eyes darken, and the hand on your arm tightens more before he yanks you to the side and tosses you onto the bed. You lay there, chest heaving up and down as you watch him intently, waiting to see what he’d do next.

He stands there, staring at you, his own breathing erratic. Slowly, he pulls his tight white t-shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor. Your eyes scan the length of his tanned and toned chest. God, you want to feel him underneath your hands so badly, you want to give in and let him fuck you again. No one, and you mean no one, had ever fucked you the way JJ had.

“You look real pretty like this, in nothing but your bra and panties, actin’ like your pussy isn’t fuckin’ soaked f’me, crying f’me and just begging to be filled with my cock again.”

You open your mouth to speak, but JJ climbs on top of you, grabbing both your wrists in his right hand and pinning them above your head. You gasp loudly when you feel his cock pressing against your lace covered core, even through his jeans you can feel every last inch of him. Your pussy throbs, your arousal soaking your thighs as he lays there, unmoving but still the feel of his hard cock has you wanting to feel more of him.

“Tell me, princess. You wanna feel me inside you again? You wanna be fucked properly again? Because I know them kooks ain’t doing you no good. No, a girl like you needs to be dominated, needs to be choked and slapped and fucked nice and hard, needs to be put in her place, that what you want baby?”

You’re weak. You can’t even tell him no when your slick thighs, hard nipples and the way you’re breathing is giving the truth away. And the truth is, JJ is right. No one has compared to him. You want him to claim you, to break your mind and leave you craving more even when you know you shouldn’t.

“I- Please. Please fuck me.”

That’s all JJ needed to hear. He releases your wrists from his hand and yanks the cups of your bra down, exposing your tits to him. He smirks at the sight of your hard nipples, dipping his head down and licking each one before sucking one into his mouth.

He releases your nipple from his mouth with a pop, moving to the other and repeating his actions. “Fuck, such a filthy fucking slut, yeah? Loves the idea of fucking the one person she shouldn’t.”

You whimper in response, bucking your hips upward, craving any type of friction on your swollen, needy clit.

“Awww, how pathetic. Begging to be fucked already, don’t worry, baby, I’m gonna fuck this cunt, and I’m fucking it raw this time.”

JJ hops off the bed, popping the button of his jeans and sliding the zipper down with haste. You watch as he slides his jeans and boxers down his legs in one fell swoop, wasting no time in crawling back on top of you and claiming your lips with his.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down and further into you. You grind your hips against his, feeling his thick cock slide up and down through your slick folds. JJ groans in response, breaking the kiss and pushing himself up, supporting his weight with both his hands.

“So fuckin’ eager, aren’t ya? Wanna be fucked like the dirty little whore we both know you are.”

You nod your head fast, whimpering and moaning as you continue to grind your hips against the air. JJ laughs at you, his hand landing a harsh smack to your cheek before he grips his cock, stroking at it twice before sliding his swollen tip through your folds.

“P-Please, J! Please, fuck me! Wanna be fucked like a whore, wanna be your whore, the girl you hate but fuck anyways!”

JJ groans, the weight of your words hitting him hard. He looks down at you, eyes locked with yours as he pushes himself all the way inside you, filling and stretching your pussy. The two of you moan in unison.

“Fuck! So fuckin’ tight, feels so much better than I remember.” JJ rasps, his hips still, cock unmoving inside your pussy.

You begin grinding your hips, wanting to feel him move inside you, wanting his cock to bring you an orgasm.

JJ slaps at your face again, giving you a look of warning before he dips his head down and captures your lips with his again. He kisses you fervently and begins moving his hips, slowly at first, but then hard and fast.

You moan into his mouth when his swollen tip repeatedly hits at your g-spot, making your toes curl and fingers dig into the smooth skin of his back. “Fuckfuckfuck, JJ! Feels so fucking good!”

JJ picks up the pace of his thrusts, pounding himself inside you like it’s the last time he’ll ever do it, and you’re secretly praying it isn’t the last time. You need more of him forever, even if it’ll only ever be hate sex. It feels so fucking good, you can’t even think of another girl getting this from him.

“Yeah? Feels good? Want me to cum inside this pretty little pussy? Make you a mama and be stuck with me for the rest of your life?”

A loud moan escapes you at his words, and honestly, the thought isn’t too bad. You wouldn’t mind JJ knocking you up, you would always have a reason to see him, and maybe, just maybe, it would change the dynamic between the two of you.

You bite and suck on his lower lip as he continues his brutal thrusts, your pussy clenching around him with every push and pull of his cock. He slows his pace, slowly pulling out so only the tip remains inside you before harshly shoving himself back in. He continues to slowly pull himself out before shoving himself back in, his swollen head hitting that spot inside you over and over again until you’re so close to exploding you can taste it.

“J-JJ! Need.. Need to cum, please!”

Your teeth are chattering, legs shaking and belly tightening. You can’t hold off your orgasm, and thankfully, JJ doesn’t make you.

“Go on, make a mess on my cock, show me how much your pussy loves my cock being inside her.”

That was all it took, your orgasm gushes from you, soaking JJ’s cock and the sheets below you.

“JJ, oh God! Fuck!” You cry out, your nails digging into JJ’s back so hard you break skin.

JJ picks up the speed of his thrusts again, savagely fucking into your sensitive pussy, chasing his own high.

“Gonna cum inside this little cunt, claim you as mine, because you’re mine now, don’t wanna see you with anyone else, got it?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, moaning out a soft “yes”. JJ’s cock swells, twitching inside you as he comes undone, filling you with his cum like he said he would.

He thrusts inside you one final time, stilling and holding himself deep inside you, letting every last drop of cum fill you. Once he’s come down, he slowly pulls himself from inside you and places a kiss to your sweat slick forehead.

“Don’t know what else to say besides, you’re mine. I ain’t sayin’ I like you, or that I am gonna fall in love with you, but I don’t want no one else, and I don’t wanna see you with anyone else, got it?”

You slowly nod your head, your eyes fluttering shut as sleep tries to claim you. JJ quietly redresses, placing one final kiss to the top of your head before he makes his way out of the room. You drift to sleep, your mind consumed with what just happened, with JJ’s cum leaking from your pussy, and thoughts of what the fuck was to come from this little arrangement you just made with him.

JJ taglist: @princessslutt // @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles // @rafesthroatbaby // @sturnioloshacker // @starkeysprincess // @rafescurtainbangz // @atorturedpoetx // @redhead1180 // @ratatioulle // @maybankskiss // @jjsmarijuana // @romaescapes // @kisses4angel // @maybankslover // @simars3 // @urbimom // @antagonize-me-motherfucker // @ijustwanttoreadlols // @hyperfixationgirl // @chiaraanatra // @chimindity // @juniebugg // @unsaidjaelinrose // @momoewn // @spid6y // @drewsuncrustables // @eviesmoon // @bunbunbl0gs // @enzos-doll // @mishala // @ilovegeorgiaamoore777 // @lovelymiaablogs

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[goldengalore]

Ready

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Harry wants kids. Y/N isn’t sure what she wants. Feeling pressured to make up her mind, she agrees to something she’s not ready for.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: angst, smut

A/N: Hello! It’s been a while. This fic is based on this ask I received forever ago. Enjoy :)

***

Y/N has always been on the fence about having kids.

As a young teenager, she assumed she would have them when she grew up, fell in love, and got married. Social norms, along with her own childish naivete, made her believe that this was the only path one could take in life. Having children was the next logical step to marriage, which was the next logical step to falling in love.

And then she matured and realized that life is not nearly as cut-and-dry, that having kids is a choice, not a necessity, and that she can absolutely go her whole life without having any if that’s what she wants. This realization came as a relief but also felt somewhat unnerving because how is she supposed to know what she wants? She is quite possibly the most indecisive person on the planet, so it’s no surprise that she has bounced back and forth between wanting and not wanting children throughout her entire adult life.

On one hand, she thinks of her friends who have kids and how their lives have become utterly consumed by the little humans that require their constant care and attention. There is just so much that Y/N wants to experience and achieve before settling into a life like that.

Not to mention the horrors of pregnancy. It’s not exactly a walk in the park, having to carry a human life inside of you for nine months and then give birth to it. The health complications, the irreversible bodily changes, the sheer, agonizing pain of childbirth.

And yet, on some days, she fantasizes about becoming a mother, of holding a tiny life in her arms and nurturing it into a full-grown adult. An important character in these fantasies has always been the sweet, thoughtful, loving partner by her side who takes equal responsibility for their child. This person was always a faceless individual—an idealistic depiction of the kind of partner Y/N hoped to find someday.

And then Harry came along.

Sweet, thoughtful, loving Harry who, unlike her, was always sure of his desire to have kids. For him, it was never a question of whether he wanted them but a question of when.

That moment finally arrived for him a year ago. But Y/N wasn’t sure if she felt ready yet.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked her one day. “I don’t mean that in a judgemental way. Bringing a child into this world is scary for anyone, including myself. I’m just curious to know what your specific concerns are.”

“Well, there’s the usual stuff, like whether or not I’ll be a good mother—”

“You’ll be a phenomenal mother.”

She smiled at him, then continued, “Or whether my kids will be able to have a good future with so much chaos in the world...” She trailed off hesitantly.

“But there’s something else,” he said, gently urging her to share what was really holding her back.

“I… I’ve always been terrified of the idea of having to raise a child alone, either because something bad happens to the father or he leaves out of the blue or we break up and I’m left to take care of this child by myself. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I… I’ve never been able to shake this fear.”

“Doesn’t sound ridiculous to me. I was raised by a single mother, so I know it’s not an easy job.” He reached for her hand and kissed her knuckle, never breaking eye contact. “But I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. You know that, right? We’re in this together. We’re a team, always.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“Well, I’m alright with waiting until you feel ready. I want us both to feel ready before we jump into this.”

In the six months following that conversation, the topic would crop up several more times, like after Harry saw her interacting with his godchildren at a party or they walked past a cute baby in a stroller at the grocery store. Y/N didn’t mind discussing the topic. It gave her a chance to ponder and become more comfortable with the concept of motherhood.

Yesterday, Harry returned home from a month-long movie shoot in Sweden. Y/N surprised him by showing up at the airport. What he doesn’t know is that she has another surprise in store for him.

While he was in Sweden, she decided to go off her birth control and now wants to try for kids.

She plans on telling him later tonight once they get home from their friend’s birthday party. They’ve been all over each other tonight. That’s what being apart for a month does to them. Hell, even a week apart is enough to turn them into a couple of horny teenagers that can’t keep their hands off each other.

“You look so hot in that dress,” Harry whispers in her ear, half-joking because they both know this is his fifth time saying that tonight.

Emboldened by a couple glasses of wine, a tipsy Y/N whispers back, “I want you to put a baby in me.”

His eyes widen. He chuckles. “That wine bringing out your wild side?”

“I’m serious,” she states, glancing around to double check that no one is within earshot of their conversation. “I went off my birth control a month ago, after you left for Sweden.”

He stares at her blankly, like her words haven’t quite sunk in.

“H, I’m ready to do this.”

“Really?”

She smiles. “Yes.”

“We’re doing this,” he says as it finally sinks in. He kisses her wine-stained lips. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

“Yes, please.”

Y/N can hardly keep her composure on the way home. Harry appears to be in the same boat, as he keeps sneaking glances at her while driving, his hand caressing her thigh. While he’s always been a responsible driver, she can sense the impatience in his maneuvers tonight.

Once they’re home, it’s almost a race to the bedroom. Harry gently pushes her onto the bed and climbs on top of her.

“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to watch you walk around in this dress tonight”—he runs a hand down her front—“and not be able to bend you over and just slip my cock into you?”

She moans as he cups her pussy through her dress with a firm hand. He lets her grind against it for a minute before pulling away to take off his clothes. She follows suit.

Soon, they’re back on the bed, sharing another series of ardent kisses. By the time he goes down on her, she’s already dripping wet and he licks it up as if he hasn’t had a drop of water in days. Her hips grind against his tongue like they did against his hand just a moment ago. It doesn’t take her long to orgasm.

He shifts up the bed to hover over her body. He kisses her again while lining up his cock with her entrance. As he slides into her, she feels a slight discomfort from being stretched open for the first time in a month. He pulls out and pushes in a little deeper each time to let her adjust until he fills her up completely and she’s too immersed in pleasure to have a single coherent thought anymore.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he says, starting to pump in and out. “Gonna come inside you, yeah? Gonna come deep inside your tight little cunt and fill you up, put a baby in you. Is that what you want?”

Those words flip a switch in Y/N’s mind. She makes an involuntary noise that makes it seem like she’s agreeing with him, so he picks up his pace. Just as he finishes inside her, the terrible realization dawns: She is not ready to have a baby. Not at all.

“I love you,” Harry whispers in her ear, his body resting flush against hers as he comes down from his high.

Tears spring to Y/N’s eyes as she realizes what she’s done, what they’ve just done. When she doesn’t reciprocate his statement, he lifts his head to look at her. A tear escapes her left eye at that exact moment.

Concern furrows his brow. “Lovie? Hey, what’s wrong?”

She just shakes her head while staring at the ceiling.

“Y/N.” He caresses her cheek, urging her to look at him. “What’s the matter? Are you hurt? Did I go too—”

“We shouldn’t have done this. It was a mistake,” she says in a trembling voice.

“What are you talking about?”

She tries to sit up. Harry moves out of her way.

“I’m not ready, H. I’m not ready to have a baby.”

His face falls. “I— But— Then why did you say you were ready?”

“I don’t know… To make you happy?” She covers her face and hears him sigh heavily.

“Y/N, you can’t— You can’t lie about things like that just to make me happy. It’s not like we were deciding what to have for dinner. We’re talking about having a baby, for Christ’s sake.”

“I know that. Of course I know that. But I just— I see the disappointment in your face every time we talk about this, every time I tell you I’m not ready. You seem so sad, Harry. I hate it.”

“Well, I’m sorry I’m not able to hide my emotions as well as I thought I could. That still doesn’t mean you should lie to please me. I thought we were past foolish antics like this.”

She squints at him. “Foolish antics?”

He sighs again. “I didn’t mean it like—”

She turns away from him and gets off the bed.

“Y/N.”

She shuts herself in the bathroom. For a brief moment, a part of her resents him. Resents him for being ready to have kids before she was. For bringing it up so often. For making her feel as though she needed to lie about being ready just to make him happy.

But now, as she stares at her teary-eyed reflection in the mirror, she knows she has to take responsibility. She is the one who led him to believe that she was ready when deep down, she knew she wasn’t. He never once pressured her to make up her mind or acted like he loved her any less for not wanting kids yet. He never made her feel any type of way about it. He has done nothing but be the supportive, understanding partner he’s always been. It was her who doubted that. She let her own paranoia get to her.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Y/N? Can I come in?”

A few moments later, he knocks again.

“Please, lovie? I’m getting worried.”

Finally, she opens the door. He takes in her red, puffy eyes and tentatively places his arms around her, only pulling her in when she steps into his embrace.

They stand there silently until he says, “Why don’t we head over to the pharmacy and get you a morning after pill?”

She agrees, so they get dressed and head out. The ride to the pharmacy is a quiet one. Every time she glances at Harry, his eyes are focused on the road, both hands gripping the steering wheel, and he appears deep in thought. It’s the complete opposite of their ride home from the party, when he could hardly keep his hands or his eyes off her. She tries to think of ways to break the silence, but nothing feels appropriate. The last time she felt so awkward and unsure about what to say around Harry was when they first started going out and she was terrified of saying the wrong thing.

When they get back from the pharmacy, she swallows down the pill with some water and they head back to bed.

***

Y/N: Hey H, you on your way home? Hope you’re hungry, I made your favourite for dinner 😊

H: I have a business dinner tonight. Mentioned it this morning

Y/N: Oh! Sorry I forgot about that. I’ll save some in the fridge for you for tomorrow

H: Sure, thanks

Y/N stares at the message. She can’t tell if she’s reading into things or if Harry’s replies really are as dry and aloof as they sound. Her propensity to overanalyze everything makes it difficult to know. Ever since the incident in the bedroom a few days ago, it feels as though Harry has been avoiding her. Spending long days at the studio, coming home late at night when he knows she’ll be asleep, giving short replies, taking longer to text back. They haven’t had sex again since then either.

After scrutinizing their text conversation for twenty minutes, she comes to her senses and realizes that she can’t keep going on like this. It’s driving her crazy. What she needs to do is talk to him. But he’ll most likely be tired when he gets home.

At first, she thinks she’ll sit him down tomorrow morning and talk it out. But when he walks through the front door just after eleven o’clock that night, she can’t help herself.

She stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a cup of tea, when he enters. The dark circles under his eyes are noticeable. He has been willing to sacrifice his sleep just to avoid being around her any longer than he has to. Her chest constricts.

“Hey,” he says, placing his phone and keys on the counter. “You’re still up.”

“Can’t sleep.” She stares down into her half-empty mug, the remainder of the tea quickly growing cold.

“How come?”

“I can’t stop thinking.”

“About…?”

She swallows the lump in her throat and looks up at him. “About whether or not you’re upset with me and how I can fix it.”

He frowns. “Why would I be upset with you?”

“Because of what happened a few nights ago.”

His frown dissolves into something different—sympathy? Guilt?

“Y/N, I’m not upset with you about that.”

“Are you sure? Because it seems like it. You’re gone before I’m even awake and you come home when I’m going to bed. We’ve barely talked or kissed or cuddled in the past few days. I know you haven’t been that busy since you got back from Sweden, so… I don’t really see any other explanation.”

He stares at her wordlessly for a long time before speaking. “You’re right. I have been avoiding you. But it’s not because I’m upset with you. It’s because I’m upset with myself. I feel like I pressured you into doing something you obviously weren’t comfortable with. I never saw myself as someone who pressures people into doing things they don’t want to do. So, I suppose I’ve been feeling some shame and guilt about it… and then avoiding you because it’s hard to face these feelings.”

Y/N sets her tea on the counter. She never could’ve guessed that Harry felt this way. She was so convinced that he was mad at her, it didn’t even occur to her that he might just be feeling guilty about it all. After how long she has known him, it should have been obvious that the latter is more consistent with his character, but her anxious brain wouldn’t even let her consider that possibility. She walks over and wraps her arms around him.

“H, I had no idea you felt that way.”

He squeezes her tightly, resting his chin on her head. She turns her head to the side so that her cheek is against his chest.

“To be honest, there were times I felt pressured when the topic of kids came up,” she says. “But a lot of that pressure was created by my own fears and insecurities. I just hated disappointing you over and over. I was scared your feelings about me, about us, would change if I kept saying I wasn’t ready.”

“This hasn’t changed how I feel about you or us. Y/N, I want you more than I want kids. Way more. If you decided one day that you don’t want them at all, that still wouldn’t change how I feel about you.”

She pulls back to look at him. “Are you sure? That’s a dealbreaker for a lot of people.”

“Well, not for me. Not when it comes to you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Suddenly, he lifts her up onto the counter and stands between her legs.

“So. What did you get up to today?” he asks, planting a kiss to her collarbone.

She rests her hands on his chest. “Hmm, what did I get up to? I hardly remember anything other than obsessing over this whole situation.” She laughs.

“Aw, lovie, I’m sorry I had you all stressed out.”

“It’s okay.”

“Maybe I can make it up to you. Help you relieve all that stress.” He peppers kisses along the side of her neck and jaw.

She sighs softly and closes her eyes. “I would like that.”

***

Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

[cherrysnip]

just that — chwe hansol

pairing: vernon x afab!reader

prompt: "are you guys dating?" or that one time you strongly denied your relationship and he got sulky(?)

a/n: another fic for my fave secret dating x brother's bestfriend trope >.<. this was initially posted on another site before i decided to take it down and let it sit on my drafts for a year lol.

It was already two in the morning but you were still wide awake. With all the things you have done the whole day, it was expected that everyone, including you, would doze off as soon as you get on your beds. Unfortunately, you didn't.

The guilt that has been consuming you since earlier is what's actually making it hard for you to sleep. You had been rolling on the bed too many times as if that would help ease the regret you had been feeling (spoiler alert: it didn't).

When you arrived at your vacation house this morning, you and Vernon had tried to be as discreet with your relationship as possible. You going on a trip together wasn't a new sight, anyway. Vernon and your older brother, Wonwoo had been friends since freshmen year of college so the former is usually invited in times like this and so you both thought you could just let this three days pass without anyone knowing what you really have. However, it seemed like Wonwoo already had a hint about it and had been watching you the entire time. And alas! While you were having dinner, the million-dollar question was finally dropped.

"Are you guys dating?"

Vernon was about to answer but you suddenly panicked and was the one who replied instead, "Of course not. He is just like an older brother to me!"

As soon as you said it, you already wanted to take it back. But it was too late. Vernon may not have said a word but the disappointed look on his face spoke volumes. After that, you avoided each other for the rest of the night.

To be honest, this had been a subject of your arguments a couple of times before. Vernon wanted to tell your friends and families that you have been together for four months already but you're against it. It isn't because you were embarassed about your relationship or afraid that your family would say something negative (if anything, they're very very supportive). It's just that you wanted to enjoy the privacy you had without others minding your business, especially your brother Wonwoo who had been protective of you since your fallout with Joshua, even though it had been years and you have already moved on. He's also the reason why your past suitors had immediately scrammed away after going through the interrogation stage.

"Stop scaring them, will you?" You remembered complaining one time but your brother just shrugged.

"If they get scared of me and give up that easily then they're not really willing to fight for you. People like that are not worth it."

You knew you brother means well but sometimes you just want him to tone down the scare meter a little bit. Because if this continues, you might end up being single for the rest of his life.

But then, Vernon happened.

You already knew who Vernon was since he was a senior in high school. Vernon lives alone because the rest of his family is in another country. That's why when he gets a weekend off from the university, he would tag along with Wonwoo to your house to hang out. He is basically a part of your family now. However, the both of you didn't really got the chance to talk to each other because you were busy studying and usually just stays in your room the whole day when Vernon visits.

That set-up lasted for months until your first day in college. Wonwoo was supposed to give you the tour but had to cancel since he had to attend to something urgently. Of course, knowing you would whine about it nonstop, Wonwoo sent another person to guide you.

It's none other than *drum rolls please*, his best friend, Vernon. Surprise, surprise!

"Hi," that was just the first word that Vernon said to you (while sporting that smile that YOU swear would actually make anyone melt if possible), but you already knew you would fall for him. HARD.

You wouldn't admit it at first. The guy's nice (and freaking handsome and hot too) but you didn't want to give meaning to that kindness because you thought Vernon might just be doing it because you are his bestfriend's sister. However, it wasn't easy to supress the feelings when every time your eyes meet or when you smile at each other, butterflies would fill your stomach.

Not to mention, Vernon would also never forget to buy you your fave Iced Americano every chance he gets.

Luckily, it isn't a one-sided affection. Because apparently, Vernon is feeling the same towards you. The confession was nothing grand but for you, it was romantic and perfect.

It was in the middle of the crowd, during the Music Festival as your university's resident band was playing Enchanted by Taylor Swift, when Vernon looked at you directly in the eye and told you, "I like you so much y/n. I know this might be too sudden for you but I've been keeping this for a while and I just want to let it out. It's alright if you won't like me back ---"

"Shut up. I like you too," You replied while chuckling. You found Vernon blabbering cute because most of the time when you're together, you did the most talking and he would just agree and smile at you every now and then.

That was also the night that your relationship became official.

What followed was the happiest four months of your life. But now you're afraid that it would be cut short if you won't reconcile with Vernon as soon as possible.

You weren't able to take it anymore so you finally got up and carefully tiptoed as you went out of the room. You were just about to go to the next room but you heard a soft mumbling sound from the living room. That's when you realized that someone other than you were still up and is watching the television.

At first, you thought it was your brother but when you saw the brown hair peeking on the couch's headrest, it was a confirmation that it was him—your boyfriend.

Biting your lower lip, you walked towards Vernon who still haven't noticed that you were there. It didn't seem like he was focused to what he was watching, he was more like 'spacing out".

"Nonie?" You called softly and poked at Vernon's arm. The latter automatically looked up to you and blinked multiple times, probably making sure if you were really there or just his imagination.

"Why are you still awake?" Vernon reached for your hand and squeezed it lightly. You resisted yourself from crying because of how sweet your boyfriend is right now when he should be mad at you.

"I'm sorry about earlier," you said but Vernon shook his head.

"I should be the one saying sorry, babe. I told you I would respect your decision but I still acted up."

"But I know you're upset about it, Nonie."

"No. A little disappointed, I guess. I just don't want to hide anything anymore, especially our relationship. I don't want this to stay like a dirty secret because it's not."

You nodded and came over to sit on Vernon's lap. Your boyfriend was obviously taken aback but he just let you be eventually. He even encircled his arms in your waist to pull you closer.

"Okay. We'll tell them tomorrow."

Vernon's eyes widened. "Tomorrow?"

"Why are you so surprised?" You let out a laugh. "Are you still not ready?'

"Of course, I am. I've been preparing for it for months,"

"So you're not scared of Wonwoo-oppa?"

"As my friend, no. But as your brother, yes. I can even imagine him strangling me the second he finds about us."

You both knew that's far from Wonwoo's personality so he would most likely not do that but who knows? It could be worse.

"You'll be fine, Nonie. But if ever you get broken bones, don't worry, there's a nearby hospital, we can just--aw" you tried teasing him but Vernon was already pinching your nose before you could even finish your sentence.

"You're lucky I would do anything for you."

—♡—

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Good Luck, Babe! (8)- You'd Have To Stop The World

Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+

Inspired by the song 'Good Luck, Babe!' by Chappell Roan

Summary: Returning to Westview after twelve years away causes you to look back on your secret love affair with Wanda, to remember the intimate moments you shared together before her refusal to accept her true self drove the two of you apart, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your broken heart alone.

What happens when you reunite with the woman you've been trying so hard to forget, forced to watch her suffer in an unhappy marriage that was slowly drowning her, still too scared to confront her true feelings?

Chapter 8- 8.6k Words

Good Luck, Babe! Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 7

A/N: Hey… So it’s been a while, huh? I’m sorry! Life has been super hectic these last few months and my mental health has been all over the place (which I have finally got a therapist to help me with!) So between two jobs, being in full time education and being depressed, it’s been pretty hard to consistently write or stay motivated but I’m sorta back? Only very briefly as it’s the holidays and my exams once again start again at the end of January and don’t finish pretty much till June. My plan for this fic is that this is the official final chapter of the story but I’m planning a sort of epilogue/extra chapter that I’ll add more info about in the end notes. Once again, I’m so sorry for leaving you all on a cliff-hanger (that was pretty evil of me)

But hopefully this makes it up to you <3 I love you all!

—

An empty feeling consumed your chest with every heavy step you took to the avenue your house was on, your hand gripping the dog lead harder than necessary as your eyes inevitably spotted the familiar red car that had pulled up into the drive next to yours, a gnawing feeling picking away at your mind. It had been just over a couple agonising weeks since the…incident with Wanda, a little while since you felt your heart crack once more, crumbling into hundreds of pieces that you felt would never be able to be put back together again, the constant replaying of the event in your mind further ensuring you wouldn’t heal from the memory. The agony that expressed itself in her choked sobs and broken, tearful gaze haunted you, it wedged an unfathomable ache in your soul that seemed unescapable, everything seeming to remind you of the woman you so desperately needed to remove from your thoughts.

You sighed in an irritated manner as you sensed where your thoughts were heading as you approached yours, and consequently, Wanda’s house, your head shaking subtly to try and rid you of the sight of her green gazing into yours, every swirl of her enticing green losing that glimmer of happiness you adored so much as you murmured the words ‘I can’t’. It was draining, constantly being reminded of how your love was never meant to be, how things would never end up like the stories you’d dream of, willing the characters who were clearly destined to be together to push past that final barrier that was blocking their happiness, you just wanted it to stop. You needed it to stop.

Before you could drift further down that detrimental path, the sound of two energetic boys calling your name gripped your attention, a smile genuinely gracing your lips at their emphatic tones, their contagious smiles and laughter meeting your ears as you passed the bottom of their drive. You avoided looking further up the path as they approached you, not wanting to feel another wave of conflict course through you, your gaze staying focussed on the way Billy instantly ran towards Lucky, deciding he wanted to say hi to the bundle of fluff he loved so much.

“Y/n!” Tommy called excitedly, his tone hopeful as he continued, his little form standing in front of you, looking up at you with a cheerful and innocent smile, his enthusiasm to speak to you causing the corner of your lips to tug that little bit wider. “Can we please come over to play today?” He pleaded, eager to come over and show you how he had improved his kickups, now able to do fifteen in a row, as it had been a while since you allowed them over, not wanting to endure the unnecessary contact with Wanda.

At his hopeful and bright tone, you felt your heart melt at his and his brother’s actions, Billy fussing over Lucky who sat by him, the dog growing extremely fond of the brown haired boy as he enjoyed his company when they’d come over. It was natural for the two of them to occupy each other, Billy’s hand running through golden fur as he would read a comic whilst Tommy and yourself caused chaos, a small tug pulling on the strings of your heart as you didn’t want to deny the twins of the fun they had in your garden, but a harsher, more prominent tug reminded you of their mother, feeling her intense green gaze at you.

To say things were tense between you would be an understatement, Wanda’s entire being longing for you, to talk to you and try and clear things up, express the emotions she had spent years burying as she couldn’t physically hold it in any longer, but it was clear you didn’t want to even try, deciding the only way you were going to be able to move on was by leaving the other woman behind. You needed to move on, to forget the way she sparked joy into your life and in doing so, you reluctantly ignored her, deciding that it would somehow be easier for you to simply avoid her than face her and your thoughts once more.

Without even looking up, you could tell she had that pleading glint in her eyes, hoping you’d spare her even a mere glance as you crouched to the boy’s level, letting your hand ruffle Tommy’s hair in that teasing and playful manner that always made him giggle, an apologetic smile gracing your features.

“I’m sorry but I’ve got more boring adult stuff to do tonight,” you murmur softly, your face signalling your sorrow for disappointing them as you witness the excitement slowly crumble away from the twins, Tommy’s shoulders slumping a little.

“But you had that last week,” he argued, your gaze drifting to Billy who was smiling down at Lucky, the dog tilting its head back to stare up at the boy with his tongue sticking out, the golden retriever’s usual goofy manner making him laugh.

“I know, I’m sorry,” your tone comforting as you fix his hair briefly after messing it up. “Blame my boss for giving me homework,” you tease, the boy’s eyes almost widening in fear at the idea of still being given homework in adulthood, amusing you briefly before you continue, wanting to cheer them both up a little. “I promise you can come over soon, I miss beating you at football,” you playfully murmur, pushing his shoulder teasingly as a glint of determination appears in Tommy’s eyes, a small laugh escaping Billy as he knew you always somehow lost the football matches, potentially due to letting the smaller boys win but not telling them that. “Now go on to your parents, I’ve got to go and be an adult now,” you joked, as you stood back up, making a show of getting up, pretending as though you were that old it hurt your knees and back, further amusing them and bringing smiles back onto their faces.

“Bye Lucky,” Billy said with more enthusiasm before muttering a short goodbye to you, making you shake your head playfully as it was clear how much more he loved the dog than you, something you could understand as Lucky was such a good companion.

Your eyes followed the way Tommy ran after his brother after saying bye to you, something you regretted almost instantly as you saw Wanda greet them, her hand cradling each of their heads in a motherly manner before letting them run off inside, her head turning to look at you, as though she felt your eyes on her.

The brief eye contact made you freeze momentarily, conflicted at how to feel as the world around you seemed to fade away, the only things you were able to focus on being the way your heart started to pound in your chest and her intense green seeming to grip your attention. Staring into her gaze that held a glint of pain but also hope made you wonder whether Wanda felt this immense guilt you did when she avoided you when you first came back, your heart feeling as though it was being split into two. Despite everything, you wanted to comfort her, no matter what could happen between you both you always longed to protect and care for her and it always hurt, especially as you knew you were the reason she was hurting now, the situation between you two forever resembling two stars that never wanted to align. On the other hand, you knew you didn’t have it in you to soothe her pain, deciding to try and savour the last remnants of your heart, finding it would somehow be easier to push her away than deal with the whirlwind of emotions that threatened to overpower you.

“Y/n please can we-” Wanda tried, desperation clearly lacing her tone as she took a pleading step forwards, wanting to, needing to talk to you, to try and clear the air and help navigate the feelings that were slowly suffocating her, trapping her in a place of despair.

Before she could finish her sentence, you sighed, shoulders slumping visibly for her to see, her brows drawing together as a pained expression took over her face as you stayed silent, merely offering her one last apologetic and equally broken look before turning away, walking towards your house and leaving her alone once more, a prominent ache forming in her chest.

“Please,” she whispered more to herself as you hesitated by your door, lowering your head whilst you paused before twisting your key in the lock, shutting yourself away from the other woman as her boys called for her, a despondent feeling consuming her whilst she had to force a smile to her lips, trying to put the mask back on for her family.

***

The sound of distant chatter met Wanda’s ears as she manoeuvred around the kitchen, starting to prepare dinner for everyone whilst her mind wandered elsewhere, inevitably drifting to thoughts involving you.

It was maddening to the other woman, the way you managed to consume her thoughts so regularly, how it seemed the world would have to stop for the longing in her heart for you to diminish, every fibre in her being longing for you, your presence, your laughter, simply you. You were the only thing that made her feel as though she was alive, that there was a purpose as to why her heart was beating in her chest, fluttering and melting at your actions. She hated how so many years had to pass for her to realise that she should never have tried to deny her feelings for you, to stop the love that wanted to bloom in her chest as she would gaze at you in your truck, a genuine look of happiness etched onto her features as she got lost in the moment, unbothered by the rest of the world and what she thought she had to be. She just wanted to be herself and in your presence was the only place she ever felt like she was safe enough. Even when you sat with her on your sofa that devastating night she felt safe, she felt more passion and affection in those sparing moments than over the years without you, an emptiness that brewed inside her craving your care to reminded her of how colourful life could be, like it was when you were both young, naïve and free adults with only one thought in your minds, each other.

It was apparent things would never change as you still consumed each other's thoughts, the love being replaced by haunting memories however, Wanda’s lips trembling slightly as she tried to get a grip on the emotions threatening to drown her, to force her into a spiral she didn’t want to experience. The years of pretending, lying to and berating herself fuelled her pain as she desperately tried to not let those thoughts control her once again, unable to survive in that mindset any longer, just wanting to accept that she was still normal, even if her heart wanted someone different, someone that she was told was wrong and corrupt. She wasn’t a freak, she wasn’t, she was just a victim of love was what Wanda repeated in her head, only reminding her of more confusing thoughts swarming around her head.

She loved you, she could finally say it to herself, but it was clear it wouldn’t matter as you avoided her, reluctant to cause any more pain as your feelings seemed to pass by each other at the wrong time, never quite clicking. It caused a different kind of hollow emptiness to settle in her chest, her mind dragging her down a painful trail of thoughts as she replayed that night in her mind, clinging onto anything that could offer some sort of relief to the agonising pain digging into her heart.

Cruelly, her thoughts remember the feeling of your delicate touch burning into her skin as you cupped her cheek, offering some sort of comfort to her after rejection and heartache flooded through her, gripping her heart in a manner that stripped her breath away, scared at the overwhelming feeling of pain. She could almost feel the lump that had formed in her throat, the way her lips trembled, tears spilling from her eyes as she sank into your body, desperately trying to relish in your comfort but succumbing to the agony that ripped through her chest, her soul.

The memory made her want to break down into tears once again, to let the avalanche of anxiety crash through her, knocking her over every time she managed to try and get back up but a small glimmer of hope floated through her mind, offering her a life line to cling onto.

She vividly remembers the way both of you leaned in, that intoxicating look in your eyes as you let your gaze drift to her lips, a longing look evident in them which only made it even more confusing for Wanda. She could see it in you, she was sure of it, you still loved her even after anything, it was something that tormented you forever as you said, confessing to her that you ‘had always been’ in love with her. You wanted it to work, even now. Why couldn’t things just work out? She was ready to tell you everything, to accept who she was but it wouldn’t matter, even if it was clear both of you felt the same way, your souls drawn together, it never seemed right.

Why couldn’t she just accept herself sooner? Why didn’t she realise loving you was worth any risk? Why was everything so confusing? She just wants to be able to think straight.

“Mom?” Tommy called suddenly, snapping Wanda out of her thoughts as she lifted her hand to wipe the stray tear that had spilt down her cheek, using all her courage to force a smile onto her face for the boys to see as they trudged into the kitchen, bored expressions on their faces. “Can you come and play with us please? Dad said he had a work call to take again,” he grumbles as both Billy and Tommy slump onto the stools by the kitchen island, their heads in their hands as they stare at the back of their mother, oblivious to the conflict swarming around her head.

At his words, anger seeped into Wanda’s mind as she let out a sigh, not wanting even more emotions to rage in her head at her husband's incompetence and inability to actually be a father for once, more memories from that night and the past few days filling her mind. After that argument that left her crying outside, Wanda had finally reached her tipping point, her heart unable to take anymore misery from the man, to waste any more years of her life pretending that she loved him, that she even cared for him. There was nothing left to savour between them and the last few days had only cemented the idea in her head to leave, to try and find someone else that would love her or show her some sort of affection, someone like you- No, not you, you were making that clear.

“I’m sorry but I’m a little busy Dorogoy, I’m trying to make Paprikash for dinner,” Wanda softly replies, making sure neither of the boys could sense the irritation that had brewed in her, their faces brightening at the mention of one of their favourite dishes though. Turning around to face them, she saw the disappointment briefly in their eyes from the usual dismissal from Vision, her heart clenching a little as they desperately wanted to play with someone, some joy filling them at the idea of food though, an idea entering Wanda’s mind. “Do you two want to help me make it?” She asked them, a gentle and motherly smile gracing her lips as they nodded eagerly, excited to try something new as they jumped off the seats to stand by her side, love blooming in her chest. Despite her negative feelings towards their father, the one thing she’d forever be grateful to him about was the two boys they brought into the world, her hands going to Billy’s shoulders as she instructed him on what to do, Tommy waiting to be told his job, both of them bickering on who was sous chef number one and who was sous chef number two.

Their playful chatter quickly filled the room, drowning Wanda’s incessant thoughts out of her mind as she supervised and made most of the dinner, letting the boys do simple tasks such as washing the vegetables and eventually trusting them to chop them, keeping her eyes on Tommy specifically though as he easily got distracted, the older woman not wanting him to accidentally hurt himself. It was almost as though all the emotions that were weighing her down were about to be forgotten, her boy’s making things more bearable, reminding her to enjoy the moment with them whilst a genuine smile stretched across her lips as the twins glanced up at her with a sheepish look, having knocked something off the countertop. Flour sprinkled across the floor at their mistake, simply earning a raised eyebrow from Wanda, their mother not even needing words to tell the twins it was their responsibility to clean the mess up when the sound of Vision’s laughter started echoing through to the kitchen, bringing a frown to Wanda’s face as well as the twins, the two of them looking up at her expectantly.

“Keep your eyes on the timer for me please,” she murmurs to the boys who had started to grab something to clean the floor with, their faces pulling into a brief confused look, “Shout me when there’s two minutes left, I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

Once the two of them nodded, she made her way into the living room to find their father, a sudden blinding rage consuming at the sight of him laid back in the armchair chatting on his phone, his smile wide as he chuckled to the person on the other end of the call, seemingly unaware of how selfish his actions were.

“God Tony, you should have seen the way Banner’s face dropped when I told him he inputted the numbers wrong,” Vision huffed out, amused at what had happened at work, his blue eyes flickering over at the movement in the corner of his eyes, drifting up Wanda’s body before meeting her green and the unimpressed and irritated look in them, a sigh escaping him which only amplified the annoyance building in her. “I’ll call you back Tony,” he muttered, having enough decency to end his conversation after meeting the look in his wife’s eyes.

“How was your work call?” Wanda coldly asked, her arms crossing over her chest as her head tilted slightly, looking down on the man who simply moved his hand to his temple, contemplating his answers as he let out a huff.

“Wanda, I’ve had a long week let’s not-” He tries, as he always does, but Wanda refuses to accept his blatant excuses, cutting him off.

“You have a ‘long week’ every week,” she dismisses, unbothered if she came across as careless or inconsiderate as she had finally had enough of his bullshit, needing to call him out and let it sit with him. “The boys were so excited to actually spend some time with you earlier, to play with their father but let me guess, talking to Tony and others was more important to you?” She states rather bluntly, his fingers moving to the bridge of his nose as he reluctantly listens to her. “Do you have any idea how much it upsets them?” Wanda asks, this time with a softer tone, trying to express the sadness it causes in their children at his constant false promises.

“Does it upset them? Or are they just upset that they haven’t gone over to Y/n’s house instead?” He questions, taking Wanda aback at the mention of you, all the thoughts from earlier flooding through her mind along with a new trail of thoughts at the annoyance in his tone. “Why can’t they just go over to her house? It’s better for everyone, they can have fun with her and I can have some quiet for once,” he mutters, earning a scoff from Wanda, her head shaking as she bites on her tongue, not wanting to start a screaming match with him tonight.

How did it ever come to this?

Before she can say a snarky remark or a bitter comment, they both hear Billy come into the living room to find Wanda, a confused and worried look appearing in his eyes making Wanda’s heart clench, her body instantly moving to comfort the boy, giving him a reassuring look before ushering him back into the kitchen, turning back to face her husband one last time, letting her thoughts clear before saying one last thing to him.

“Don’t be surprised at what happens next,” is all she says, defeated as she stares at him, trying to remember how part of her did love him at one point, only briefly as her heart only ever truly belonged to you before she turns away from him, making her way towards where her boys were, fingers finding her phone in her pocket, needing to search through her contacts for an old friend, ready to make her decision final.

It was over between them.

***

Grabbing the essentials for Lucky, you tossed the bag full of the necessities into the back of your truck, chuckling under your breath at the sight of the bundle of fluff sitting next to your feet, eager to come with you on your small journey as his tail wagged, tongue comically hanging out of his mouth.

The sun made his golden fur appear all the more angelic and adorable as you whistled for him to jump into the front seat of the vehicle, the window rolled down all the way as you quickly ran back up to check the front door was securely locked, ready to drive over to the lake to clear your mind from the thoughts that had been gnawing away at you over the last few days specifically.

You were just about to climb into the driver’s seat when you heard your name called by a familiar yet unfamiliar voice, a baffled look appearing on your face as you turned around to face the female voice, recognition appearing on your face along with confusion.

“Jen?” You eventually managed out as you stood by your car in a puzzled manner, a sense of happiness filling you at seeing an old friend from school, remembering all the crazy and entertaining science lessons the two of you shared next to each other, briefly remembering the way you nearly set part of the science lab on fire accidentally. It was still her fault in your opinion, but you weren't going to bring that up now after so many years.

“Y/n? Oh my god it really is you,” Jennifer Walter chuckled out as she approached you, walking over from Wanda’s house which you immediately noticed, not mentioning it though as you decided it wasn’t your business, despite how much it intrigued you.

“Yeah, wow it’s been a long time,” you sigh out, a little unsure of what to say as it was so surprising to see her, “What are you doing here? Wait, no, sorry, how are you first?” Your politeness earnt a smile in response as you leaned against your truck to talk to her casually, Lucky moving over to the driver’s seat and poking his head out near yours, further amusing you both.

“Good, I’ve just finished talking to Wanda about a…work thing,” she started, piquing your interest as you acted as though the words didn’t affect you that much, “So I’m currently back on business.” You nodded along to her words, listening attentively, “I need to go and check in to the hotel now though so is there any chance we could meet up another time and catch up?” Her tone was a little flustered as she looked at her watch, realising the time making you chuckle as she always seemed to be so busy, a look of concentration etched onto her face as she worked out her timings for her plans, running a little behind.

“Yeah, that’d be lovely, you still have my number right? Just message me and we’ll sort something out,” you reply, watching as she smiles gratefully at you, taking a step back as she needed to be leaving, having a work call to take at her hotel.

“Perfect! It was really nice to see you again,” She rushes out before ushering a quick goodbye at the sight of her taxi pulling up, your hand raising to wave her goodbye as you turn to get into your truck, now ready to leave to venture to the lake. Before you left though, you couldn’t help but let your gaze wander over to the Maximoff house, trying to wrack your brain as to what career Jennifer would likely have gone into and figure out what they were doing, a strange, undecipherable feeling wrapping around your heart tightly. Shaking your head slightly, you tried to rid the thoughts from your mind, deciding you needed to stop thinking about her to move on, your mind focussing on reversing out of the drive and the adorable look on Lucky’s face.

***

The gentle sound of paws on the wooden surface of the dock caught your attention as you stared ahead at the vast stretch of water, the way the soft blue from the sky reflected delicately in each ripple of the lake, the gentle hues of green from surrounding bushes also adding to the picturesque setting you relaxed in, Lucky joining your side. Water dripped from his darkened fur, the golden tufts on his chin soaking wet as he held the tennis ball in his mouth next to you, tail wagging with enthusiasm as he impatiently waited for you to throw it again, his calm but also joyful demeanour always comforting to you.

With a smile on your face, you pushed yourself up onto your feet to throw the ball properly for the dog, taking the soaking ball and using all your strength to toss it as far into the lake as you could, watching as he leapt off the dock and splashed into the water, paddling over to chase the desired item.

Flopping back down onto the wood, you let your eyes flutter shut, trying to listen to the peaceful atmosphere and the world of nature around you, birds occasionally chirping, the splashing from Lucky, and the wind gently rustling the bushes around you to distract your thoughts but it was inevitable that enticing green would consume your mind.

Everything simply hurt. You felt broken once again, your heart felt as though it was bleeding anguish into your veins with everything you did, every choice you made as it never seemed to be the right one, it always ended up in pain and suffering that somehow seemed to have layers, finding new ways to torment you.

There was the initial pain from that night which plagued your mind, an incomprehensible amount of guilt flooding through you for destroying you both in ways you couldn’t describe, for being scared. You tried to justify your reasons, to convince yourself that you were protecting yourself for once, for trying to do something that would help you rather than others as you never seemed to care enough about yourself, a flaw that always came back to terrorise you. You were tired of always being the fool, the one who always ended up being broken or knocked down, so you tried to spare yourself the misery but it seemed that no matter what you would end up suffering, life forever playing a cruel joke on you.

You hated how pain also bloomed slowly, like a rose unfolding its petals, taking over your consciousness one thorn at a time as other agonising thoughts pestered you, making you question everything. You resented the guilt for hurting her, for supposedly being there to comfort her and making things worse, for avoiding her and leaving her to imagine the worst like you did when you returned. You loathed how yet, after everything, you still had hope for something, anything with her.

An annoyed sigh spilt from your lips as your hands moved to your eyes, anxiety trickling down your spine at your stupidity as your thoughts wandered down the wrong path, unable to stop yourself. That was your issue when it involved Wanda, no matter what you couldn’t stop your love for her, it was inescapable, you couldn’t get away from the memory of you both leaning in, her eyes conveying something different, something more. It was a look you had wanted to see every time she was with you, every time you spent intimately together in your truck, on this very dock, in the lake swimming with each other and pulling one another closer, it was all you ever wanted, to be looked at with love, and you threw it all away because your heart was too weak.

No, you didn’t throw anything away, there was nothing there. You had to believe this, believe that there was no chance of anything as you couldn’t carry on living like this, tortured by love for eternity. You were wrong, you had to be, you had to move on, that’s why you pulled back. It was the right thing to do, even if it hurt her, the two of you had to stop whatever this was between you, you had to let go.

Tears pricked in the corner of your eyes as you desperately tried to build the courage up once again to let her go, to spend the time restitching your heart together at the gaping wound that would be left there, but you struggled to do so, drained from all the conflicting and confusing thoughts that had gnawed away at your sanity already.

Why couldn’t it just stop?

Almost on cue to save you from your inner turmoil, Lucky reappeared at your side with the tennis ball, the item plopping to the wood and rolling towards you as the dog panted, almost smiling at you and oblivious to how much comfort he provided you with, your fingers threading through his wet fur. You were just about to murmur something to the dog playfully, a weak smile growing on your lips as your thoughts still pressed heavily on your mind, when a sudden bark left his lips, his head snapping over to the side, causing your eyes to follow his alert gaze.

Nerves instantly consumed your body at the sight of a familiar figure at the end of the path, Wanda’s face twisting into shock and confusion whilst her body halted, a tension immediately filling the air as you both held the gaze, unsure of what to do.

Wanda had only come here to clear her mind after speaking to Jennifer regarding her situation with Vision, usually coming up to the Lake to either remember the happy memories that filled her mind and warmed her heart of your time together or to simply lose herself in the tranquillity of nature, not wanting to think. She didn’t expect to see you or that conflicted look engraved on her face that pulled on the strings of her heart, her face softening as neither of you wanted to make the first move.

When it became too much, your eyes getting lost in the swirls of green you’d forever remember, you turned your head away rather abruptly to break the gaze, moving your hand to cover your face for a moment, desperately trying to gather yourself together.

What was she doing here? You couldn’t take it. You didn’t want to end up getting hurt again, to feel your heart break anymore. You wouldn’t survive. You needed to get out of there.

Pushing yourself to your feet a little unsteadily, your fingers twitched subconsciously by your side as you felt anxiety and panic clawing its way up your throat in a manner you hated, your mind filling with claustrophobic thoughts as you called for Lucky to follow you, wanting to escape. You felt vulnerable under her gaze like this, something you struggled with as this was why you constantly cared for others more than yourself, you couldn’t face your own feelings, you couldn’t face reality and truly let the sorrows of your life sink in, pulling you under.

At the distress on your face, Wanda wanted to comfort you, to pull you into her arms and let the warmth of your connection settle you both but she knew that wasn’t the right thing to do, her own heart splitting into two as she couldn’t decide what to do. This was her chance, her chance to tell you everything, to confess, but the look on your face implied that you couldn’t handle it, your body gradually getting closer to hers, to pass her by, to leave her alone again. It was in the brief eye contact that you made as you somehow managed to keep moving without breaking down that Wanda saw a glint of something in your eyes, dread consuming her at the broken expression on your face as you looked at her, conveying without words that this would be the last time you saw her. It flooded memories of the day you left her the first time, that same glimmer appearing in your eyes making Wanda react, her hand reaching out for yours, not quite letting you let go just yet.

“Y/n wait, please,” she pleaded, desperation dripping from her shaky tone, the feeling of her finger tips wrapping around your arm sending sparks through your body, almost making you gasp at the intensity of it. “Please can we talk?” She tries, but all you can do is stare at where she holds you, another memory flooding your mind.

“Wanda wait,” you rush out as the other woman walks towards the end of the dock, ready to get into your truck for you to take her home, the stars shining bright above you both, the moon reflecting off the lake. The two of you had spent all day together, getting lost in the moment, unable to stop laughing and feel that gentle warmth envelope your chest in that tender manner every time you locked eyes, a nervousness building in you for the whole day as you planned to confess everything to her. 

Your hand reached out to hers, gently grasping her wrist, halting her and encouraging her to turn around to face you, her green filled with confusion but also curiosity, her smile casual and affectionate as you search for words.

“I…You make me feel…um,” you stammer out, unsure of how to phrase it as the countless scenarios that played in your head started to merge together, causing you to feel lost as you tried to navigate your heart, gazing into her eyes and letting her soothe you, taking a deep breath. Her brows furrow at your words, the gentle glow of the moon illuminating her features, giving her this angelic and radiant look as you lost yourself in her beauty, awestruck by her and unable to form any words. Instead of stumbling over your words again, you try a different approach, slowly moving your hand up to her face to tuck a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, a blush forming on her cheeks as she hesitates, your movements slowing as you gauge her reaction.

When she doesn’t pull away or give you any indication to stop, you step closer to her, giving her all the time she needed to tell you to stop, to not cross that line but she doesn’t, letting you lean in closer to her till your lips ghost one another, needing that last little bit of encouragement to kiss her for the first time.

If only you had known that kiss meant something different to her.

“I can’t,” is all you can croak out, voice raw with emotion and it shocked Wanda to see you so vulnerable, usually able to be the more composed one out of the two of you, signalling to her how heartbroken you truly were, her green expressing the guilt and regret filling her for being part of your pain. “It’s just going to hurt me, I-I can’t take it anymore,” you continue, regrettably meeting her gaze and conveying all of your emotions in a single look, almost stealing Wanda’s breath away at the intensity of it.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispers, voice delicate but wavering at the emotions flooding through her, her mouth opening and closing as she hesitates, trying to read your expression as you simply gaze at her. “I don’t,” she reiterates, trying to reassure you as you pull your hand away from her, teetering on the edge of making the decision to walk away, to leave her in the past for good. “I just…” she starts, trailing off as she lets her gaze flicker down to how your feet shuffle slightly, seeming to want to move, prompting her to confess, needing to tell you at least once, even if it was too late. “I love you.”

The world around you faded away instantly at her words, leaving you to focus solely on her, the way hope but also desperation filled her features, an anxious look glimmering in them as she waited to you react but you couldn’t, you just froze to the spot, unable to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions that crashed through you, clouding your judgement.

You were supposed to be walking away from her, letting her go and moving on. You were supposed to be accepting that it was over, not letting yourself cling onto false hope, to let yourself believe again. It hadn’t ended well before, who’s to say it would work this time? Yet you still couldn’t will yourself to leave, unable to resist her as you had craved to hear those words spill from her lips for most of your life, the words replaying in your mind like a drug.

“I love you, I always have,” Wanda continues, sensing your confliction as you still, eyes flickering away from her momentarily before back to her green, looking for the honesty and sincerity lacing each delicate swirl you fell for in the first place, “I’m sorry it took me so long to say. I…I was just scared to say it, to admit it to myself that I was but I can’t keep pretending that you don’t mean everything to me. It’s always been you, I’m sorry for never seeing that.”

At her confession, you think your heart has actually physically split into two, a broken sigh escaping you as the overwhelming feelings crash down on you like a tidal wave, sweeping you under and submerging you into despair and desperation, confused about everything that was happening inside your chest and head.

Love and happiness consumed part of you, wrapping tenderly around your heart that pounded in your chest, trying to soothe you as the words gradually settled in your mind, sinking in and amplifying the hope that was building within you at every second that passed by. Your eyes held her nervous gaze, meeting the honesty, care and affection that overflowed from her green, desperately trying to convey every single ounce of love she had for you, a love that defies descriptions at how intense it was. She loved you, it was something you had waited over a decade to hear, to ring around in your head as relief tried to bloom through you, to console you and help a smile stretch across your lips but a shadow of fear crept over your mind, clouding your judgement momentarily.

Doubts picked away at every single thought you had, over analysing her words as fear ran down your spine uncomfortably, briefly appearing in your eyes making the other woman’s brows furrow, confused as to how hope swiftly diminished in your gaze, turning to something more haunting. How did you know she was telling the truth? That she wouldn’t run away as soon as those thoughts came back to terrorise her, to destroy her. You didn’t want to be something disposable again, you wanted to be the person she came home to, the person who made her feel as though the world would fade away whilst you were together, to make happiness flood through with merely a glance, you wanted to be her lover.

At your silence, dread starts to amplify the uneasy feeling in Wanda as she pressingly tries to figure out your thoughts, to untangle the onslaught of emotions flashing across your features.

“Please say something,” she begs, the fear in her voice evident as she desperately hopes that you would say something, anything to her. She didn’t care if you screamed at her, broke her heart again and confirmed that she was too late, she just wanted something, the lack of response somehow worse than anything else.

“How…How do I know you aren’t going to change your mind?” Eventually, the words leave your lips, tone hesitant and broken as you want her to answer you honestly, needing her response to help you make your final decision of whether you were going to leave. You were giving her one last chance, unable to deny her as always.

“I won’t,” she replies without hesitation, getting her determination and point across as she reaches her hand out for yours subconsciously, wanting to assure you she meant everything she was saying, the words coming from the deepest parts of her. “I’m never going to make that mistake again,” she continues, searching your gaze as you listen attentively. “I’m.. I’m divorcing Vision,” she sighs out, your eyes widening momentarily, the words filling you with a sudden hope, part of you actually believing that this could be the moment where you finally click, your feelings not clashing but finally becoming in tune with one another. “I never wanted to be with him, I just thought it’s what I had to do, what everyone wanted from me,” she whispers out, finally getting it off her chest, causing your features to soften as you knew how far her internalised homophobia festered, so hearing her actually say the words ignited something in you, the fear dissipating from your veins. She’d finally admitted it.

“Do you remember Jennifer Walter?” She asks, wanting to give you proof that her decision was made, that she wasn’t going to turn her back on you anymore. At her words, your brows instantly furrow, confused as to why she had named your old friend, letting her continue as you manage to nod in response, “She’s a lawyer now, she’s helping me get the divorce started,” the words making the earlier meeting with Jennifer make sense, realisation etched onto your features as green continue to gaze at you, one of her hands sliding into yours, the touch electric as both of you seem to instantly relax a little at the contact, warmth spreading through your hands.

“That’s why she was at your house,” you murmur out to simply voice your thoughts, the pads of your fingers brushing one another tenderly, the feeling natural despite how long it had been, your gaze flickering down to the sight, savouring the peace it brought you before lifting your gaze back up to see her nod her head. The confirmation seems to trigger something in you, the fact she was actually changing, actively trying to become the person she had always wanted to be, brewed something deep inside you, easing your nerves slightly which was mirrored in the way you searched her green. The fact you don’t reject her touches gives Wanda hope along with the glint in your eyes, the nerves seeming to settle as an intimate atmosphere wraps around the two of you like an embrace, twelve years of longing expressed in simple looks.

“I know I don’t deserve it but please give me one last chance,” she pleads, your fingers interlocking, mirroring how your souls seemed to entwine, a small sigh leaving you after, despite all the thoughts begging you to leave, you knew you were still going to follow your heart. It always belonged to her. “I want to try properly this time, I want to make this work. I want us to work,” she murmurs and you can feel yourself being freed from most of your insecurities and the fear holding you back, a soft smile gradually stretching across your lips as relief consumes you entirely.

“Promise me you wont hurt me again,” you whisper softly, lifting your free hand to cup her cheek, her eyes glossing over in consolation as she melts into your touch, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.

“I promise, I never wanted to hurt you, I just… It took me too long to realise you were all I ever wanted, the only person I wanted to love,” Wanda confesses, cherishing the way your hand feels against her skin, the sheer amount of comfort it provided to you both, the warmth that flooded through you both at the electric touch, the fact that such a simple action could arise such emotions stirring something in her. This was all she ever wanted, to feel loved, to feel loved by you again. “I want to make up for everything, to love you the way I've always dreamed of loving you. Please tell me I’m not too late.”

“You certainly took your time,” you whispered in a slight tease, attempting to ease the moment as it was emotionally intense, a small chuckle escaping her, making you remember how much you had missed that noise as it blessed your ears, your finger delicately brushing over her red tinted cheek, admiring the woman. “My heart has always been yours Wanda, I’ve never stopped loving you,” you confess in an intimate murmur, a sudden happiness enveloping you as you smile at her, realising that finally you had both confessed your feelings, the yearning you had both endured building up for this exact moment, clouding your mind with the thought of her.

Your eyes flickered down to her lips, her eyes mimicking the action and gazing longingly at yours, the feeling of your fingers caressing her skin intoxicating, the way your gaze flicker up to have one last intimate gaze addictive, you couldn’t get enough of each other. Without even realising it, the two of you leaned in closer, your head tilting marginally as your lips ghost hers, ready to slot over them and let years of passion consume you both, memories of the many kisses you had shared filtering through your mind as you try to savour the moment.

Inevitably, your lips met into a tender, loving and passionate kiss, the action saying more than a thousand words but most importantly the three that mattered- I love you. It was breath taking, the intimacy of the kiss as your lips pressed against once another, igniting sparks within each other as the melody of your love played a song of tenderness and affection in your hearts, letting peace wash over you both. It was a kiss that felt like more than simply mending your broken bond, an embrace that healed and reconciled the two of you, it was the start of something new, something to base a new relationship off and cherish as you looked to the future, wanting to tackle it together.

“I love you,” Wanda whispered against your lips at the two of you parted, foreheads leaning against each other as you felt her gentle breaths tickle your face, your eyes fluttered shut as you took in everything you could about the moment, her hand in yours, body pressed against you, lips brushing yours as she uttered the words that filled your mind.

“Say it again,” you sigh out, wanting to and needing to hear her say it again, and again, and again as you were addicted to the sound of those words spilling from her lips, almost as much as you were intoxicated by the way her lips perfectly met yours.

“I. Love. You,” she punctuated every word with a kiss that somehow was filled with more care, more affection as she continued to pour everything she felt towards you into the intimate moment, drowning you both in happiness as your souls intertwined, your bodied forever pulled to one another. “It’s always been you, only you,” Wanda murmurs as you both pull back once more, your eyes gently fluttering open to meet her enticing gaze, the shades of green almost making you fall for her all over again.

Smiles tugged at both of your lips as you lost yourselves in each other, your features softening before you press a kiss to her forehead, letting everything finally sink in your mind whilst you embraced like lovers.

You knew that your love wasn’t easy, it hadn't been so far and there were bound to be times when it was rough again, but it was a battle you were ready to fight for, even if it was against the world. Distance, time and the fears you both shared had already halted your story together but you fought bravely, tirelessly for it because you knew that your love was worth every struggle.

It always would be.

She always would be.

—

I want to apologise once more for the delay in getting this chapter out but I hope it was worth it as they finally got their happy ending <3 

I hope you have enjoyed their story as much as I have and I really hope this ending was alright for everyone as I really struggled with it (both planning and writing)

I want to thank you all for your support on this fic and my others as I can’t express how much you all mean to me, especially this year as it has personally been so difficult for me. I will forever be grateful to you all and I hope you know it!

This is sadly the end of the official story but my plan is to write an epilogue style final chapter which would involve smut (as I know that’s what most people want) but it’s up to you guys on which you’d rather it be!

1- A smut chapter of their first time after getting back together.

2- A smut chapter a few months after Wanda has finally divorced Vision and the Reader and Wanda both live together now (I’ll send the twins to Pietro’s don’t worry)

Please leave any thoughts/comments/votes <3

Ao3- LoveIsAnImaginaryDagger

Wattpad- LovePersevering2

Tumblr- LoveIsAnImaginaryDagger3000

[milksockets]

why scan?

scanning is something i've done for probably about 12 years now (i'm ancient, for this site), with varying degrees of regularity, intensity, etc. it has ratcheted up since the dawn of 2023, though, which begs the question: why? why put so much time into what could not-wrongly be considered a passive activity, hunched over a piece of clunky machinery with the express purpose of preserving others' creations? the answers are several, and fascinating (not really).

i am a [sober] drug addict. anything i pursue, consume, create--more often than not--ends up taking on addictive qualities. i'll eat the same specific food item for a month, then never want to see, let alone taste it, again. i'll listen to one song on repeat for days until i'd rather hear nails on a chalkboard than have it shuffle on and assault my ears. one of the reasons that my scanning has increased in volume recently is that i acquired library cards to the 3 nyc library systems: nypl, brooklyn, and queens. as soon as i was able to, i pillaged + plundered those fine centers of learning, leaving any given library with as many hefty scan-worthy books as i could [barely] carry. here, finally, was a *free* way of obtaining more + more + more visual media to consume.

2023 saw me get my first legal, full-time job. as such, my adjusting to that hellish reality resulted in a steep decline in my own personal creative output. collaging, writing, and rapping all fell to the wayside as i slowly acclimated to a life of work that almost everyone else my age has known for over a decade is generally unbearable + detrimental to the maintenance of outside pursuits. in times of famine within my own artistic harvest, scanning, archiving, and sharing others' work is a means of feeling as though i am still contributing to the global oeuvre.

there’s an element of losing my mental self in a series of physical motions that becomes almost automatic after some time. “zoning out” is not something endemic to my daily life; if anything, i’m almost always too zoned in. relief is necessary.  especially considering the shitshow this past year has been in terms of my personal life.

i am a product of capitalism’s cultivating a craving for constant consumption. 

it seems that visual content is only going to continue to get more + more uninspired. has everything been done? did social media ruin it all? in any case, i feel a need to document the past. to a degree, it’s my version of doomsday prepping. (god forbid books go extinct altogether.) 

i have always gravitated towards solitary activities. this topic could be a thesis in its own right.

i thrive on external validation. this reliance is something i’ve improved upon over the past several years, but it hasn’t been altogether extinguished. even though the materials i scan are not of my own creation, i nevertheless feel a vague pride in showcasing them. occasional appreciation thereof satisfies this fixation on others’ attention, albeit in a diluted form. 

i am fortunate to live in a city bursting to the gills with cultural institutions. i am also lucky enough to have some disposable income that can be directed toward fulfilling my ravenous desire for visual media. 

((i keep getting messages about the specifics of my scanner + "process":

i have a cheap ass hp envy 6055e and i just use the software it comes with.

there's nothing special or fancy happening here, and i could definitely invest in a better and/or a large format scanner, etc. but i really just don't care enough and it's not like i'm getting paid for this lmao))

[sordidmusings]

How to Break Rules (Sir Crocodile x Reader)

Art by xuchuan25 on x!

TUMBLR ATE THE FUCKING ASK WHEN I SAVED IT AS A DRAFT 🙃 luckily I had it saved in my doc and it was anon so they wouldn't have been notified anyway

Anon Ask: Crocodile doesn't seem like the type to kiss during sex unless he's down bad. Maybe he starts a casual relationship with a strict "no kissing on the lips" rule but anywhere else is fair game. It's fun to think of the different ways a possible "first kiss" could happen when he's already rawed you lol and the different reactions if he initiates it or you do and whether it's spur of the moment or calculated.

A/N: OOOOOOOOOO love this and have actually come across this in my own travails haha as someone who loves service, there is such a rush in being told “you can kiss me anywhere but my lips; you have to earn that” 😩 Like it’s just dangling that fruit of how much of a rush it’ll be when you earn the right, when you’re told you’ve been so good for so long. It is also kind of a wild and intense dynamic to be in to have done So Much Stuff but not a simple kiss 💀💀💀

I will also say that I have a WIP smut request in this vein that has been FIGHTING ME FOR MONTHS 🥲 except it’s reader who has put down the rule of “no kissing” and the reason is because love is a requirement for it. Hoping this exercise helps get more flowing for continuing that beloved behemoth 🙏🏻 Ficlets and thoughts in bulleted form below! They get longer as they go because that’s what tends to happen for me lol

Word Count: ~3k total over a few scenarios and such

Warnings: brief allusions to sex but nothing nsfw, gn!reader, not actually unrequited love, a few flavors of reader personality, from very bratty to docile, for dynamic variety 🤌🏻, jealousy/possessiveness

Goodies below the cut - dig in (‘∀’●)♡

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

At first I was a bit clinical in my brainstorming of this, more stuck on the grid of who does it to who 

He kisses you

Involuntarily

Poor croc is finally at his limit in keeping his lips from yours and being so deep in indulging in all the rest of you is his undoing. Every piece of you feels so good even though every moment with you is agony - agony from having you but not all of you, being with each other but not belonging to each other. He was Tantalus and you were his fruit and drink, always slipping just past his fingertips. If he could taste you, share your breaths, feel your voice, then maybe he’d finally stop wasting away. 

On purpose

You’ve been vexing him with your teasing, always gifting him the touch of your soft lips everywhere but his own. He didn’t want to be the one to fold on his own rule, but no matter how loose he got your mind, how far you were from forming words, how pliant and placating, you’d kiss him and kiss him and kiss him but never his lips. It didn’t matter if he hovered his own over yours close enough to taste your voice on the air, you’d never push forward. It was maddening. 

One day he finally barks at you after you turn your face away, “Why do you always run?” 

You answer, confused and honest, “You told me I wasn’t allowed.” 

The response is a hook at your neck, pulling you closer; a hand in your hair, cradling you; a mouth on your own, consuming you.

A promise to you that you’re truly his

This Sir Croc warms more to the idea of you being his with no qualms stemming from his own pride. 

It took a long while, but your home in Croc’s life was built brick by brick, sure and steady and obvious. He noticed it and kept an eye on it like he did with everything, but he did not reject nor rush it. No, it was inevitable beyond his will, the way you slipped into his head and chest and nested there. No stubbornness would stop the way it warmed him. No clinging would allow you deeper into a space that was always meant to be yours. As he first noticed the foundation you’d set, saw the promise of his future in your care and vision, he knew he was meant to exist next to you. 

He waited for this understanding to sink in you too. It never did. 

No matter his well-thought gifts, steadfast support, or opulent compliments, you never pressed to take more promises from him than he offered himself, never set to make claim to him outside of closed doors. He knew he had to change that. 

The thought possesses him the next time he brings you around with him and someone has the gaul to approach you. They ask about why Croc keeps you so close to see if they had a chance to stick to your side instead. That won’t do. 

Croc stalks over quickly, seeping dominance but not quite aggression. When he gets to you, he places a weighty hand on your right shoulder and leans over the left, fully encasing you in his presence. 

All the other man sees is the threat leaning over your shoulder and he scatters before you can finish saying “-my boss.”

Much happier with Croc surrounding you, you lean back into his warm chest. A low chuckle plays with the hair around your ear, causing you to shiver in delight.

“A boss? Is that all I am to you?” There’s a teasing lilt to his deep voice, one steeped in deep fondness.

“Of course not,” you assure. He guides you to turn with his hook under your chin, letting his fingers tickle the back of your neck to your other shoulder as you spin to face him. The smile on your lips is easy and familiar and softens Croc into clay, ready and happy to be molded into whatever you want. Yet you always just ease him back into his own shape, each time with fewer cracks and dents, waiting for him to be as solid as he’d like for when he enters the kiln.

“Then tell me, dear,” his voice is as warm and rich as the purple of his eyes. He pulls his cigar from his lips with two fingers. You watch his lips as he speaks. “What am I?”

Before the falter in your smile can fully steal it away, Croc slips forward to taste it on your lips. You freeze and Croc snakes his hook behind your neck to pull you forward, but by the time it gets there you’re already pressing into him. You’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t savor the feeling of finally belonging fully to each other.

You kiss him

Power Move

Sir Croc never seemed able to control you and he loved and loathed it in equal parts. It’s one of the reasons he sought you in the first place. You knew exactly when to push and when to follow, when to challenge and when to submit. It was a very rare day when you genuinely got on his nerves.

Today is a very rare day.

You’re clearly upset with Sir Croc - not leaning into his affection, barely answering his attempts at conversation, unwilling to look at his face for more than a second. More than anything you refuse to tell him what’s wrong.

Now, you’re not doing it just to piss him off; you don’t feel quite allowed to be upset about the issue so you don’t want to share. You don’t want to have an attitude but every time you see him it reminds you of the realization that you’d do anything for him. Worse than that, that thought was immediately followed by the Knowing that you aren’t his and the uncertainty that you ever will be.

Right now, you feel like you’re not his to have, but his to use.

Though, he does give you special treatment. He lets you closer to him than any others, treats you with gentleness except when you corner him into using a firm hand. He’s never even used his power over you when it’s not for play and pleasure. Except for one little rule.

No kissing on the lips. 

You thought you’d earn it months ago. You’ve earned everything else, every sweet treatment and treasure you could think of will be yours if you ask it of him. He’s come to spoil you even more rotten than a queen with her fat lap dog, and yet you’ve not gotten a single kiss to the lips.

It’s begun to feel like he’s keeping it from you to let you know he’ll never fully give himself to you because he never fully intended to keep you. And it hurts.

And now he’s mad because you’re mad but you can’t tell him why you’re mad and the whole thing is maddening.

You watch him knock the ash off his dwindling cigar into the ornate ceramic tray on his desk. The heavy sigh accompanying it annoys you. Why is he the one sighing?

Oh, now he’s rubbing at his temple. He thinks he’s frustrated? You’ll show him frustration.

“Should I go?” You ask, peeking at him from the corner of your narrowed eyes.

“Do you want to go?” Croc rebuts, sounding confounded and at the end of his rope.

You eye him unhappily. 

Instead of responding, you stand up from the leather sofa across from his grand desk. It’s a decent distance, two chairs to its sides are placed closer, but of course you chose to sit away from him today. It’s to your advantage now; you need space for your next move.

You make your way to him slowly, swerving your hips smoothly the way he likes and adding a teeny bit of weight to each step - both to be closer to stomping and to have the motion give a slight bounce to all the soft parts of you for him to watch.

And watch he does - his face melts into the hungry admiration he saves for you, albeit still a bit guarded. 

When you get to his desk, instead of addressing him you gracefully gather the papers spread across it into your hands. You take a moment to pretend to scan through and consider them, only to frisbee them onto one of the chairs.

Croc’s eyes turn sharp and burning.

“Brat-” he cuts himself off, looking at your face and picking up that you’re having even less fun than he is. He sucks in a tense breath and hisses it back out. Let’s try that again.

“Am I working too much and you need more attention? Is that why you’re having a fit?”

Good enough.

“If I was having a fit, the whole base would know,” you bite back at him.

Instead of arguing or redirecting, Sir Croc settles on watching you. Nothing’s worked, so he’ll just allow you to take this wherever it’s headed.

You plant your palms on his desk and let the quiet linger. He lets you lean into his space and stare him down. He’s unsure what you’re looking for and honestly so are you. You’re unsure if you find it but you do find some fortitude in the settling air. You finally speak up.

“Do you remember the rule you set when we started this…” your eyes flit around, searching for the right word, “agreement?”

“No kissing on the lips unti-”

Your hand is fisted in his shirt, your lips are warm and insistent against his.

You expect anger, pulling back, or even shoving hands. Instead, Croc is scrambling out of his seat, careful to keep your lips locked, and helping you to clamber over the desk towards him with a greedy grip. You won’t be free from his taste or hold the whole night through. Now that they’ve had you, they’ll haunt you all your days, keeping him alive with each time they possess you.

You sneak your way into it

Sir Crocodile doesn’t get to enjoy late risings often. That’s why he makes sure to wring them of all they’re worth, and that’s only become better with you there. 

Knowing that the morning lacked a rude awakening, you both indulged in a night of the senses - seeing the sights, hearing live music, eating and drinking with abandon before coming home to get your fill of each other in all five senses, especially touch.

As Sir Croc comes back to his body, floating from the abyss of sleep one breath at a time, he finds his sense of touch being coaxed and teased. Gentle fingers brush across his skin along familiar trails made to map and admire his large form. They round over muscles, press into places of softness, tickle at the sensitive skin of his wrist, his blunted forearm, his hips, his neck.

The touches all feel so full of adoration and something else he’s felt more and more from you. He’s finding it harder and harder to ignore, especially because he’s used to adoration and there’s something different in yours - something softer, gentler, surer. Something he is sure by now is genuine love.

Each time it comes out he lets it wash over him as best he can without solidifying its bond. After all, this was never meant to be love.

But feeling your affection made it impossible to ignore how much better life would be if he always woke up with you.

Sir Croc encourages more of your touches, following them where he could and bedding his cheek into the top of your head. You happily snuggle deeper against him and his heart leaps.

Knowing he’s awake, you begin placing sweet kisses against his skin, teasing at the edge of his trimmed chest hair. He lets out a long breath with the undertone of a content groan rumbling through it. You smile against the plush of his pec, happy he’s still fuzzy from sleep and primed for your plot

Your lips trail and massage higher, over clavicle and to neck. He tilts his jaw away to give you free reign of the sensitive skin from his throat to his ear. Your thigh mimics the rising of your lips, trailing slow and tender over Croc’s front until it brushes from his thigh to his stomach. The rise and fall with his breathing is calming under you and the steadiness made it easier to notice when his breathing hitched and his muscles twitched against you.

His hand returned your affection mindlessly, simply following whatever instinct compelled him. Mostly it trailed from the nape of your neck to your hip and back, taking small moments to press you closer when he didn’t want one of your kisses to move quite yet.

Everything was deep breaths echoing against skin, the comforting pressure of bodies melding wherever you touched, the dance of give and take with affection. Each place you pushed your love, Croc opened himself to feel more of it, even when you left his shoulder chest and neck to explore his scarred cheek

He doesn’t even hesitate to let you near when you first trail the tip of your nose over the strong angle cut by his jaw. The barely there stubble blended to a moment of pure softness before being interrupted by the ridges of his scar

Croc is fully and willingly enchanted by your soft and smooth actions. He couldn’t bear to make you stop, couldn’t care for any pretense or boundary of his it would break so long as you don’t stop touching him so sweetly. His whole body feels light and alive and he’s struck with the realization that he’s as in deep as you are.

You place your first kiss to his face on his scar where it cuts across his cheekbone. He presses just a millimeter deeper into the plush of your lips

You follow the path of the scar, feeling his lashes tickle the tip of your nose on your way. All the while Croc keeps his languid caresses going on your skin, still lulled by recent sleep and the comfort of your touch and warmth and the want for more.

When you get to the bridge of his nose, you break contact to press your foreheads together. His hand slips up your back to rest at the back of your neck, holding you to him. You bump your nose on his and he bumps back. You tilt to leave a kiss on his cheek. His finger tail up to softly scratch at the base of your skull. You smile against him and feel his own cheek rise momentarily against you.

Sir Crocodile feels more free of thought and obligation than he has in years. Your slow acts of worship have brought out a peace in him that he’s rarely known. There is no rush or push, just a calmness and sureness that this is where he should be and how he should feel. That you both belong here.

And then something changes when you kiss right outside the corner of his lip.

He is left wanting.

You linger at the spot before moving just barely away and coming back just a hair closer to his own lips.

Each near miss felt unnatural and unsatiating, quickening his heart and breath in his discomfort and discontent. The hand at your head goes from caressing to holding, urging you to stop fleeing and teasing.

You smile again against him and this time there’s no mirrored grin from him; he’s falling too quickly into a pit of need, one he didn’t notice you digging with every caress and kiss.

You tease  your lips to the corner of his, planning to press more firmly directly on target, but his hand grips you firmly and he’s turning and insistent lips slot hungrily against yours.

You gasp in delight while he shudders out a breath he’s been holding since he met you.

Then I had a better angle come to me by remembering a basic writing preference, that the circumstances around the kiss - the ‘why’ not just the ‘what’ are much better for generating a scene, luckily in the above I think I amended that mistake when I went into more detail! (keeping these more to the stream I originally wrote them in cuz I fear I went on too long above LOL)

He kisses you after fearing for your safety

He kisses you for fear you’ll leave

You kiss him in anger, wanting to prove you’re worthy

He kisses you while you sleep, too afraid for you to know the hold you’ve had on him all along

He kisses you to soothe you, pull you from your fears and sorrows to just float with him in your little bubble away from all the hurts of the world, held aloft by sensation and need and affection

He kisses you to possess you, someone else coming too close and needing the message

You kiss him in joy, ignoring all the dirt and grime that came back with him from Impel Down

You kiss him with a sorrowful heart, needing to comfort the man who was larger than life now sat sadly before you bare of all, even his golden hook and ego

You kiss each other, your lips had sweetly made their way up his neck and across that strong jaw, coming to rest unsure right at the corner of his lips, your shaky breathes puff sweetly across his cheek as he tilts his head to rest temple to forehead, the turn to face you fully is slow and caressing, his own breath coming to mingle with yours, your noses bushing gently. The barest tilt of his head has your lax lips tentatively brush his, just the faintest tickle of skin on skin. A shaky exhale - his or yours you’re not sure - and your lips press more surely, first easing in like the first step into dark waters before you both succumb to diving under. A fierce grip slips to the nape of your neck, endlessly dragging you closer

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Thank you for reading and thank you anon for your ask 💜 I'm gonna be better at getting back to the others (life was being life lol) and up next I have some comfort fics and x marine reader! And perhaps a little filth 👌🏻

Masterlist

[paarksunghoon]

hello omg i love love LOVE deep honey, which is rare cus i usually do not touch fluff at all but smth abt the way u wrote got to me. i was wondering that in case u wanted an idea, u could write abt sunghoon rushing over to take care of his sick girlfriend? :3 just a thought or any headcannons u have on that would do fine but if u wanna turn it into a drabble or fic that's good too, especially if it's a continuation of deep honey

anyways, that is all from me, have a good day!!!

thank you so much :’) for all of my nsfw drabbles and content, I really enjoy writing the softer kind of stories. switched up the request just a little. consider this a token of my appreciation for your kindness. xx

ps this is what I’m imaging him wearing

***

If there’s one thing you know, it’s that nothing good could ever happen when you text someone past 2AM.

Both existential and physical dread consume you the second you open your texts and see a plethora of unread messages due to your current state of being. You’ve been bedridden for what feels like years but it’s only been a few of days. It’s technically Sunday morning and technically you should be fast asleep, especially since you’d taken medication to help you rest throughout the night. But seems like your body has other plans for you.

Tossing and turning won’t do either. Your head feels much better than it has for the past two days. You’d taken two days off or classes because of intense migraines paired with what seems like onset sickness due to it being flue season. Guilt over missing classes and groveling to your professors (even if they extended grace and told you to rest up) ate you alive, only ebbing away when you closed your eyes and slept.

Your roommate has been away because of a family event and what was once a promising weekend full of relaxation and the apartment to yourself is now a time for you to wallow in your misery. You’ve gone through countless tissues and have slept more in the past few days than in your entire life. It feels like your head might as well be cut off with how many problems your eyes, nose, and throat are giving you.

To pass the time, social media distracts you for a few minutes and you catch glimpses of what your friends have been up to. Partying. Studying. Eating at the cafeteria. All of these are mundane events you took for granted because you’d love to be anywhere but rotting away in your apartment. You’d rather studying for a midterm over feeling like you can’t move without losing your breath.

You take this time to catch up on texts as well. There are so many what remain unread by you and guilt crawls up your spine as you begin to reply to everything.

hi riki!! sorry I haven’t replied yet. I’ve been sick all weekend :/ I wish I could’ve gone to jake’s game with u bc it looked so fun ☹️

jungwon ur your cat is so cute omg…please send more vids. also sorry for replying late im sick lol

sunoo I swear to god if you watch another episode without me, I’m gonna beat your ass whenever I recover

yes, mom. I’m resting as much as I can! sorry I haven’t responded sooner. I still feel sick

heeseung do u think sunghoon would be weirded out if i text him right now. pls advise 😁

Heeseung immediately reads the message and the text bubble appears straight away. He’s one of your closest friends in university who always happens to be friends with Park Sunghoon, the guy you’ve been talking to for the past month and a half.

heeseung: Nah not weird. He’d probably like hearing from you

heeseung: He was asking about you earlier today and said you haven’t been talking to him as much

you: looking at my phone made me nauseous :/

heeseung: You should probably tell him that bc he’s been staring at his phone all day

you: soooo it wouldn’t be weird if I texted him out of the blue rn?? usually we don’t like…start conversations so late

heeseung: You’re overthinking. Just text him and if he doesn’t reply then he’s asleep and will text you in the morning

you: I’m scared of fucking it up

heeseung: There’s nothing to fuck up. If he gets mad that you took care of yourself (he won’t be) then he’s the one who fucked up

you: ugh when did u become the voice of reason

heeseung: :)

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard after you’ve opened Sunghoon’s text. You can imagine his slight pout when you think about how he’d react when he realizes you haven’t texted him back, which makes you feel even more guilty than you already are.

You’re not really sure how you started talking to him, let alone befriended Heeseung to the point where he started inviting you to hang out with him and his group of friends. Heeseung had originally been a study partner for a shared class back when the two of you were sophomores. It’s been a couple of years since then and now most of your conversations consist of TikTok jokes and Heeseung having to deal with you pining over one of his friends.

Sunghoon is every bit of cool you can imagine. He was so quiet when you first met him, residing in his oversized sweater since it was approaching the beginning of autumn. Heeseung invited you to a local bar on a Friday night after midterms and said your first drink would be on him if you made it before last call, knowing very well you were likely getting ready to slip underneath your blankets and call it a night.

He was right as always. You showed up wearing jeans and an old shirt with a jacket that was too big for your body. You’d made somewhat of an effort to look presentable since you’d be hanging out with his friends near campus and would rather not look like you’d gotten rolled over by a locomotive. It was there you met Sunghoon for the first time. He was so quiet that you barely heard him talk until an hour into hanging out with him, but that’s when you learned that he was someone you needed to get to know before he’d show you his loud, boisterous personality.

The more you hung out with him, the more you started to picture yourself with Sunghoon, away from the group you started to call your friends too. You’d only see him when Heeseung invited you out or if you bumped into someone else while Sunghoon was in tow with them. Neither of you seemed to cross paths otherwise and even then, Sunghoon was a bit too timid to approach you first and start a conversation.

Part of you wondered if you were ever too bold when you’d get drunk with him and your friends. You were loud, full of laughter and affection that none of your friends were surprised every time you shouted compliments across the tables and declared your love for the little group you considered to be your family away from home. Heeseung had gotten used to it pretty quickly and so did the others, albeit it took a while for their ears to stop glowing red every time you’d pull them into a drunken hug.

Maybe you sent a little too far with Sunghoon, who immediately tensed when your arms wrapped around his shoulders the first time you let your inhibitions down fully. A few beers and shots in, and Heeseung was anticipating your drunken rant about how much you love the little life the five of you had created and hoped that it would continue even after you all graduate.

Sunghoon always looked a bit intimidating with his dark, thick eyebrows and shielded his wandering eyes. He always looked like he knew what he wanted and his grace always made you think twice about what you’d say to him. Although, you knew this was the beginning of an onset crush that wouldn’t remain hidden for long, let alone when you weren’t sober.

So you’d thrown your arms around Sunghoon’s shoulder and told him how happy you were that Heeseung introduced the two of you. While you try not to think about that moment too much, you recall telling Sunghoon that he was slowly starting to become one of your favorite people because of how funny he is when people least expect it. You liked that he was so kind to his friends and that he was so confident in himself, and that you wished you could be a little more like him.

You also said he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. It was a sobering moment because he looked at you like you’d grown two heads and his shoulders felt like they might’ve been pushing you off of his body.

Stumbling with consistent apologies, none of your mutual friends seemed to notice what was happening behind them. You can picture the look on his face when your mind crosses to this moment, how he’d looked at you with bewilderment with his mouth ajar. Sunghoon didn’t say anything and you took that cue to leave him alone and head to the bar, where you hoped distance would make this night seem less tragic than it was.

When morning came around, you were the only person in your shared group chat who declined getting a late morning breakfast due to your embarrassment. Even during the next weekend, when Jake opened up his apartment for a casual hang out, you were the only person who didn’t show up, citing work and study stresses keeping you away from your friends.

Heeseung knew those were merely excuses.

“Cut the shit, Y/N. Are you okay? Did one of the guys do anything to make you uncomfortable?” The worst laced in his tone made you feel guilty for having him think the worse of people he knew before he met you.

“No, nothing like that. I think I’m the one who fucked up and made them uncomfortable.”

“Well clearly not since Jake invited you to his place. What’s going on? Do you want me to come over?”

The last thing you expected from Heeseung was to see him double over in laugher when you explained your predicament, clutching onto your bed like he’d fall to the ground if he didn’t. You’re sure that fit of laugher gave him a new set of abs.

“Sunghoon wasn’t weirded out. He texted me and asked if you were okay.” Heeseung pulled his phone out of his pocket to show you, leaving you in a cloud of confusion. “He probably likes you. Sunghoon’s a natural with girls even if he doesn’t realize they’re flirting with him. I think he likes you too because he’s acting really awkward because he doesn’t know how to deal with it.”

That night left you with more question than answers. You considered texting Sunghoon and asking if the two of you could talk, but you didn’t want to make him even more uncomfortable and tell him what Heeseung told you in fear of putting your friend in an awkward position. So you let the discomfort settle and braved seeing him the next time one of your friends invited you out.

Which, to no one’s surprise, was the weekend after Jake’s get together. Seoul’s autumn carnival was in its third weekend by the time the five of you were able to find adequate time to ride every rollercoaster and eat until your stomachs caved in. You loved the fair and were the first person to buy an admission ticket. Poor Jay, who wasn’t the biggest fan of big rides in the first place, tagged along with Jake every time he insisted on it. You tried your best to keep some distance between yourself and Sunghoon, even if Heeseung said you were being ridiculous. You’d chosen to stick by him until Sunghoon volunteered to help you pick up the food trays when you lost a game of rock-paper-scissors.

“I’m sorry that I acted weird that night,” he said, cutting the silence as the two of you waited for your order. He didn’t have to explain. You knew what he was talking about. “Heeseung said you felt bad for making me feel uncomfortable but I need you to know you didn’t make me feel that way.”

That was the longest sentence he’d ever said to you, let alone it being the first time he initiated a conversation with you. He watched as you stood with your eyes wide and mouth parted like you wanted to say something but didn’t know how to say it.

“I think you just caught me off guard. I wasn’t expecting you to say nice things about me. I didn’t realize we were that close because you’d been affectionate with everyone but me up until that night.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “I was, uh, flustered.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He averted your gaze and looked at his shoes momentarily before he looked back at you. “I liked what you said. I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

You laughed at the awkwardness dissipating. “I thought I crossed a line, or something. You just sat there and I thought I fucked up by touching you.”

He shook his head. “You didn’t. I…I liked it a lot.” You tried to hide a grin by keeping your bubbling excitement under wraps failed miserably. Sunghoon smiled too, offering to carry most of the trays back to the table where your friends were too hungry to talk for the next ten minutes.

The memory brings you back to the present where your thumbs hover the keyboard. You start to read back the conversation between the two of you and feel those butterflies erupt in your stomach for the umpteenth time. The two of you have talked about anything and everything. Nothing is off limits. So why is texting him to let him know you’ve been sick for the past few days so difficult for you?

you: hi

you: sorry I haven’t texted a lot in the past few days. I’ve been having migraines and now I’ve caught a cold ):

you: im sorry for texting so late too

He texts immediately.

sunghoon: You don’t have to be sorry. Are you feeling better now?

sunghoon: Actually don’t answer that

Your phone rings.

“Hey,” you say with your phone propped against your ear. “Sorry for bothering you.”

“You’re not bothering me. I’m the only who’s calling you when you’re sick, so I’m technically the one bothering you.” His laugh on the other line makes you smile a little too hard. “I was really worried. None of the guys heard from you so I figured you needed some space.”

“Unfortunately. I had to skip a few classes because it hurt to stand up. I’m pretty sure I’ve slept more this past week than I have in the last month.”

“I’m sorry. That really sucks.”

“I feel bad that I haven’t been able to talk to you.”

As if Sunghoon could sense you pouting, he clicks his tongue and reassures you. “It’s fine, Y/N. I’d probably do the same thing. I can’t imagine how much pain you’ve been in.”

“I would honestly rather study and take a million midterms than go through this again. I feel like someone just took their shoe off of my head.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear you’re doing better. Can I bring you anything? Medicine, maybe?”

You cough a little. “No, but thank you. My friend dropped off a lot of NyQuil and other stuff to help me. It’s working…kind of. Still feel like shit, though.”

“…Can I come over? To help you with your sickness, of course. I can bring you soup.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You frantically rise from your bed amidst his words and realize there are tissues on the ground and dirty clothes strewn everywhere because of your lack of energy. Your living room must be a mess, too, and this would also be the first time Sunghoon would see you without any makeup on.

“I want to. But I mean, only if you’re up for it. I don’t want to stress you out since you’re sick. I just want to help make you feel better. That…and I miss you.”

Sunghoon’s never been so direct before. Even though the two of you have been talking for a while, neither of you have been so forward about it. Conversations are always subtly flirty to the point where the effervescent feeling simmers just underneath the surface. The two of you have hung out without the rest of your friends and have been alone before, but neither one of you has gone so far as you be so bold about the other.

“I miss you too,” you whisper into the phone.

“Give me thirty minutes. I’ll come with soup.”

He hangs up and with a newfound sense of urgency, you make your bed and throw away any stray trash. You put your dirty laundry in the hamper, which is piled high and untouched. It’ll be a problem for when you’re not sick.

The living room isn’t too bad. You straighten furniture and throw away empty takeout containers and wash a few utensils. The tasks don’t feel as draining as they did a few days ago and you’re starting to regain a little bit of your breath.

True to his word, Sunghoon arrives thirty minutes after he said he would. You open the door and look at him. He’s wearing blue hoodie and sweatpants with specs that make him look significantly more attractive than you’re used to.

“Hi,” Sunghoon says with a gentle smile. “I missed you.”

You bite your lip and blurt out your first thought. “You look really good in those glasses.”

Sunghoon chuckles. “Thank you. Can I come in?”

“Right, right.” You step aside and he follows you into your apartment. He takes his shoes off and places them neatly by the shoe rack.

“I might need to reheat this. I got it from that place near my apartment. You know, the one with the yellow banner?”

“I love that place.”

He smiles at you. “I know. Can I heat up some soup for you?”

When you nod, Sunghoon moves to the correct cabinet and pulls out everything he needs. It astounds you because he’s only ever been to your apartment twice before, both times with your other friends in tow. It dawns on you that it’s the first time the two of you are alone in your space. You’re touched that he remembers where your things are.

He beckons you to sit on the counter in front of the steaming bowl and the aroma of spices makes your mouth water. You haven’t been able to eat consistently in the past few days, surviving on bland foods like bread and crackers to sustain your health because anything else made you feel sicker than you were. The steam feels good against your skin and you dig in right away.

Sunghoon pulls your hair back when it gets close to the rim and holds it for you while you lap up the soup. It seems as though you’re hungrier than you thought because you sit there wordlessly, shoveling liquid into your mouth while Sunghoon watches.

“Sorry,” you apologize. “I must look like a zoo animal.”

“You’re sick, Y/N. You have nothing to apologize for. The first meal you can stomach is the best one.” It’s like he gets you. Sunghoon continues to hold your hair back until you’re finished. He washes the bowl and spoon, and puts it back where they belong.

Sunghoon turns around and looks at you under the ambient lighting you and your roommate put up in lieu of the overhead lights. It feels like he’s inspecting you and you try really hard not to think about the fact that you don’t feel presentable in this moment.

“Your apartment feels very you,” Sunghoon says. “I like all of the green furniture and the art on the wall.”

“My roommate picked the decor out but I’m starting to understand why she loves art so much.”

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asks, looking at you. “Would you want to go to an art museum with me?”

“I’d really like that.”

Sunghoon pulls you by the hand to your couch and you try your best not to feel flustered with his touch. He sits you down on the cushion and immediately you feel like you need to be hyper vigilant because he’s looking around the apartment and you’re wondering if he can see the messes you see.

“Do you have a blanket? We could watch some TV. Or I could go. I don’t know.”

“Don’t go.” You say it too quickly but Sunghoon’s shoulders relax. “The blankets are beside the couch.”

He drapes it over you, leaving himself to fend for the cold. Although you’re sure he’s pretty warm, you open up the blanket and invite him to share it with you.

This is new territory. You two have just been talking. But Sunghoon isn’t deterred. He slots himself next to you and doesn’t shy away when he feels your arm pressed against him.

“Sorry for the mess. And for, well…” He watches you gesture to your face, which is undoubtedly red with dark circles underneath your eyes.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything. I still like you.”

You aren’t used to him being so upfront like this. He watches you with easy eyes, the kind of feeling that makes you believe what he says. Sunghoon is pretty reserved when it comes to these types of things and you often find yourself being the one to push him towards his bolder side. But even though you feel flustered by his words and underneath his stare, you like this newer side of him.

“I’m such a mess.”

Sunghoon watches you push your forehead into his shoulder in an attempt to hide yourself from him. He smiles at your antics and loves the feeling of your body on his. He’s been hesitant to do things like hold your hand or kiss your cheek in fear or overstepping a boundary. He doesn’t know what came over him when he held your hair back from falling into the hot soup. He knows very well that he could’ve asked where you kept your hair ties, but helping you when he knows you need it felt like the right thing to do.

Now, he wonders if you’re growing bolder with him too. You let your forehead rest against his hoodie as you take deep breaths. He hears you sniffle a few times and nearly coos at the mere thought of you suffering from your sickness. When you pull yourself away from him, the tip of your nose is slightly runny and your eyes look a bit more red than usual.

“I feel like I got hit by a truck.”

He bites his lip. “You could look worse.” You try not to let your cheeks rise in heat.

“You’re just being nice.”

Sunghoon laughs and shakes his head. He could never lie about how he feels towards you. “Nope. You still look really cute.” He watches the gears work inside your head and locates the TV remote when you don’t say anything. “What do you want to watch?”

“I dunno.”

“C’mon, you must’ve been watching TV while you were cooped up here.”

You shake your head. “Migraine, remember? Felt like my eyes were gonna burst.”

This time, he coos out loud. Sunghoon puts on a show you’ve mentioned enjoying in the past and hopes he chose correctly. You seem to be mellowing out and paying attention to the screen in front of you until you start breathing heavily. It’s not until he hears you try to silence a small coughing fit that he shoots up from his seat and pours you a glass of water.

“Here.” Sunghoon doesn’t let you hold the glass. Instead, he beckons your mouth open by placing the rim between your lips and lets you swallow the water, tilting it up until you’ve consumed all of it. He wipes the excess water from the corners of your mouth with his thumb and looks down at you with concern. “Do you have any tea? I can make you some. Hopefully that’ll soothe your throat.”

“Stupid medicine isn’t working,” you grumble. “I might as well perish.”

“Tea, baby,” Sunghoon says, the pet name rolling off his tongue with ease. You almost don’t notice it. “Where do you keep your tea and honey?”

“Cabinet beside the fridge.”

Sunghoon comes back a few minutes later with piping hot chamomile tea with honey. You don’t know how he does it, anticipating your every need and putting just enough honey where it doesn’t feel like you’re stuffing your throat with the sweet nectar. You sip on it slowly as he situates himself back underneath the blanket and keeps his eyes on the television while you try to calm your erratic heartbeat.

Eventually, the episode finished and it’s almost four in the morning when you start to get sleepy. Sunghoon hears you yawning beside him and does his best not to grin like a lovesick idiot when you push your body against his in an attempt to get comfortable. You’re holding the empty cup loosely in your hands when your eyes start to droop and as much as Sunghoon would love to stay like this, he knows it’ll be better for you to sleep in your own bed with your back against the mattress.

“Baby,” Sunghoon whispers. He grabs the mug from your hands and sets it on the coffee table. “I think you should sleep in your bed. You’ll feel a lot better when you wake up.”

“But you’re so warm.”

He bites back a smile. “Thank you, but you’re gonna wake up with back pain and I know you’ll be mad that you didn’t sleep with pillows.”

He’s right and you know it but that doesn’t stop you from letting a whine slip past. Sunghoon doesn’t complain when you lean on him for support (or rather, you push your full weight onto him because you cannot be bothered with physical tasks at this late hour). Instead, he holds your waist with his arm and guides you into your bedroom from his memory of coming here a couple times before now.

Despite this, he’s never been inside your room. You’ve always kept the door closed but as he opens it, Sunghoon completely melts at how your bedroom is so utterly you. The dark green comforter hugs your queen-sized bed and a mountain of pillows cover the top near the bed frame. Your desk is an organized mess of notebooks, pens, and highlighters you carry with you during study sessions. Photographs in pretty frames decorate your walls along with posters of your favorite music and films.

He spots a picture of the two of you from that day at the amusement park when Heeseung insisted on taking a photo since the lighting was “perfect.” Sunghoon suspected that wasn’t the case but let him take it anyhow. He always considered that to be his first official memory with you. Knowing you might feel the same makes Sunghoon’s heart flutter.

“Let’s get you into bed, yeah?”

His soft touches make you fall much deeper into your tiredness. The mattress below you feels too good to be true as Sunghoon opens the blankets for you to crawl underneath. He watches you carefully as you scoot to one side and make yourself comfortable, wondering if you’re enjoying the side of him that wants to pamper you.

When you’re all tucked in with the blankets underneath your chin, Sunghoon can’t help but lean down and brush a few stray hair strands from your face. He caresses your cheek and holds himself back despite your lips being right in front of him. Instead, he settles for rubbing your soft cheek with his thumb before leaving.

Except, you reach out and grab onto his wrist. “Where are you going?”

His looks back at you in the dim light. “Home, baby. I’ll let you sleep.”

The pout you’re wearing is tearing him limb from limb. “I don’t want you to go home.”

“No?”

You shake your head. “Please…I haven’t seen you at all this week.” Sunghoon hears the strain in your voice and he isn’t sure if you’re awake enough to know what you’re saying. “I-I just want you here with me.”

How could he say no to that?

Sunghoon sits on the empty side of the bed and lets you guide your hand in his bigger one. He watches as you shake your head and he’s about to ask what you mean when you open the blanket.

He feels momentarily guilty when he pulls his hand away from you because he hears you whine again, but he slips off his hoodie to avoid overheating. He’s left in his sweatpants and a loose shirt when sliding into your bed right next to you.

You waste no time and attach yourself to Sunghoon, pushing your body until you’re resting on his chest. He does his best not to let his heartbeat give him away. This is the most he’s ever touched you. At best, he’d brush his hand against yours and waited for the right time to hold it. Today feels like he’s thrown caution into the wind.

Sunghoon puts his glasses on your night table and pulls you close to him, encircling his arms until he finds a comfortable position. Your warm breaths litter his skin and he feels like he could run laps with how happy he is in this moment. You look so cute with your body limp against his. He loves that you’re not hesitant around him anymore and hopes you know just how much he wants you close to him.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Sunghoon says in the dark, unsure if you’re still awake or not.

“What’s your secret?”

Your eyes remain closed, eyelashes covering your beautiful eyes and your cheeks are squished into a pout against his chest. He looks down at you like you’re precious cargo and a rare gem he never wants to let go of.

“I really want to kiss you.”

You don’t say anything. Instead, Sunghoon feels you move your head until you press a kiss against his chest, allowing your lips to linger for a few seconds before reverting back to your original position.

“Kiss me tomorrow.”

Sunghoon hears you snoring soon after.

“Yeah,” he whispers to himself. “I can do that.”

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! x

[mrsevans90]

Double Life

Summary: Charlotte has gone on a few dates with a journalist named Clark Kent and she really feels like she’s falling for him. She has noticed some odd behavior from him every once in a while, but the worst part is not knowing if he’s truly interested in her. Why won’t he make a move? Is he just taking things extremely slow? Are her feelings for him unrequited? She finds the answers to all of her questions in the most embarrassing way imaginable. 

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Clark Kent/Superman x Female Reader Charlotte

Brief mention of Bruce Wayne x Female Reader

Word Count: 5,060 

Warnings: SMUT; masturbation, voyeur, oral (f), oral (m), squirting, cum swallowing, fingering, P in V intercourse, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), dirty talk, rough sex, language.

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d

A/N: This story came to me in a dream and I woke up and immediately typed the idea in my notes section of my phone. This is my very FIRST attempt at writing anything on Tumblr so all I ask is please be kind and if you love it then please comment and REPOST! Thank you for reading! 

*CHARLOTTE POV*

I woke up early Saturday morning. It seems impossible to sleep in now that I’ve become so used to being at the office by 8 am every morning. I feel a bit jittery after my date last night and am thankful for the wine that I consumed being the only reason I even was able to fall asleep. I lay in bed as my thoughts run wild. I know I should be getting out of bed and going for a run in an attempt to get rid of this pent-up energy, but glancing towards my bedroom window shows a dreary overcast day with a potential for rain. I toss and turn trying to find a comfortable position while my brain races thinking of last night. A handsome and often quiet man named Clark Kent had taken me on our fifth date. He was absolutely gorgeous, well dressed with his hair combed back, strong jaw with dimpled chin and black framed glasses. His incredible physique and handsome features are only partially what attracts me to him. His generous and mild-mannered personality and intelligence were a huge turn on. The attraction I feel for Clark is more than I ever remember feeling for a man before. My dating life since getting cheated on by my long-term high school boyfriend has been very short lived which I was fine with until now. I feel like I’ve continually held men at arm’s length, settling for a few one-night stands but nothing more in an attempt to spare my heart from more heartache. I realized after our third date that I wanted more with Clark and that he was worth the risk but I honestly am not sure how he feels about me. Yes, he’s continued to ask me on dates; taking me to dinner several times and even to a movie, yet he hasn’t made any more advances other than holding my hand and a cordial peck on the cheek. He walks me to my door after each date and ends our evening with a hug, kiss on the cheek and a goodnight. After our fourth date, I asked him if he’d like to come inside, however, he politely declined. I’m going out of my mind trying to figure out if he’s even interested but I haven’t built up the courage to ask him yet. I doubt I would even get the chance after I essentially stuck my foot in my mouth on the walk home from dinner with him last night. 

*Flashback to last night*

We walked past a storefront near my apartment that was advertising superman shirts for children and I commented how cute they were. I had noticed over the past month, that Clark was very quiet anytime I mentioned the famous Superman around him. Why couldn’t I just take the hint that he was uncomfortable?

“You know, you look an awful lot like Superman. I bet if you dressed as him for your work Halloween party, people wouldn’t be able to tell the difference in you both!” I said with a smile that quickly went away when I noticed him flinch.

Unfortunately, I didn’t stop my nervous rambling there. In my attempt to lighten the mood, I said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out that you actually are Superman! Ha ha! Do you have a secret identity you’re keeping from me, Clark?” I said with a wink. 

When I looked at Clark he seemed withdrawn and somewhat nervous. 

“No, no. I’m certainly not that interesting.” Clark quickly responded while looking at his feet as we walked into my apartment building.

“I’ve enjoyed tonight but I have to get going. I have, um… I have an early start in the morning attempting to interview people in Gotham City about the latest crime statistics.” Clark told me before I could even invite him inside. He seemed fidgety and awkward as he kept glancing anywhere but at my eyes.

“On a Saturday?” I ask and he quickly nodded while avoiding eye contact with me.

“Good journalism never takes a day off.” He said with an embarrassed smile. 

“I could possibly help. I have Bruce Wayne’s contact information if you’d like it. I’m sure he could be an interesting person to interview for your article.”

“You do? Why? I mean, how do you know him?” He responded with an arched eyebrow as he finally made eye contact with me for the first time in the past few minutes.

“Well, almost two months ago I met him at a charity gala for the Children’s hospital. He came over and spoke to me for a bit before he asked me on a date. It was the day after you asked me if I would go to dinner with you so I politely turned him down. He gave me his business card in case I changed my mind.” I responded quickly. Why does this feel so awkward? I didn’t do anything wrong but I still feel like he’s disappointed.

“I’m sure it’s on my desk in the apartment, if you’d like to come inside?” I ask as a last stitch effort to see if I had completely ruined this date.

“No, no that’s not necessary…Thank you, I appreciate the offer though. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” Clark asked with his typical kiss on the cheek. 

“Oh…okay. Goodnight Clark.”

“Goodnight Charlotte.” He responded before turning and beelining for the exit. 

“Way to go, Char. Could you be any more of a dumbass?” I quietly said to myself as I closed my apartment door and went to get ready for bed.

*Present Day*

As I continue to lay in bed I begin thinking about Clark and think about how large and strong his hand was as he cradled my small one in his while we walked to the restaurant. The veins in his muscular arms, and his strong, sharp jaw. My arousal begins to dampen my panties which I quickly remove and lay back in only my white tank top. Guess this will be the only sexual relief I will be getting for a long time. I thought to myself as I reach for the vibrator in my nightstand and begin pleasuring myself. After only a few minutes, I have kicked off my covers as my body begins to glisten with perspiration, and begin pleading for my orgasm to arrive. My eyes clamped shut, I imagine Clark’s large, strong chest against my own, his arms on either side of my head as he pumps what I can only imagine is a perfect and large cock into my warmth. I imagine his beautiful blue eyes staring into my own as he presses kisses to my body and sucks on my neck.

“Clark! Please, please, please, Clark! Ugh! I need you!” I say verbally as I continue to spur myself on in this filthy fantasy. 

CLARK POV:

Across town I am scrambling some eggs on the stove as I think about last night. Had Charlotte actually figured out my secret? Something the rest of the world seemed oblivious too? Or was she just joking and truly unaware? I had to deny it even though she was absolutely correct. I cringed as I began thinking about Bruce hitting on her. It’s not shocking since she’s possibly the most naturally stunning, intelligent, and interesting woman I have ever met. I believe I made it clear with him on the phone after I came home last night to stay away from my girl. I know she’s not technically mine, or a possession to own, but I have more claim to her heart than Bruce and I won’t allow him to interfere. Before I even realize it, I have squeezed a hand shaped imprint around the flimsy handle of the pan I was using.

“Damnit!” I mutter to myself.

I feel like Charlotte is getting impatient with me. It’s obvious that she wants more but how do I handle a relationship with someone I can’t be fully honest with. I want to tell her, I want her to fully know me but I feel like I can’t. I think back to how Lois was used essentially as bait when we were dating. The paranoia and pressure of being Superman’s personal kryptonite and obvious weakness was too much for both of us. Now, she was happily engaged to an engineer in the city. I’m delighted for her, she deserves true happiness yet I wonder if I’ll ever get to experience the same. I couldn’t stop myself from asking Charlotte on a date. The moment I saw her walking into the office next to me, I was lovestruck. Her long blonde hair, tight but professional dress with heels and most importantly crystal blue eyes. She was independent and driven as the head of marketing for her department. Yet, she still had this kindness about her as I watched her enter her building and the front desk guard hug her while thanking her for the toys she had sent home for his young children. She smiled genuinely and made him promise to bring his wife and children for a visit soon. God how I wanted every bit of her. I wanted her body, her mind, her future. The fourth time I saw her, I couldn’t help myself as I made my way towards her and “accidentally” bumped into her. We began a conversation and I was hooked. Before I could even think about the potential consequences, I was asking her to dinner. My cock ached as I thought about her in the shower last night after our date. Hell, I may be an alien but I still have sexual urges. She smelled and looked so beautiful. I could imagine her breasts pressed against my body. I daydreamt about the softness of her lips and the sounds she might make as I slowly took her apart. It has been almost impossible to turn down her invitations to join her in her apartment. I haven’t even allowed myself to kiss her because I’m scared to go any further and get more attached only to have her walk away if she finds out my secret. Was this self-preservation or just stupidity? I’m jolted out of my thoughts as I hear her voice louder than all the others noises going on around me thanks to my super hearing. I listen carefully as I hear her calling my name.

“Clark! Please, please, please, Clark! I need you!” 

I hear her whine and she sounds as if she is out of breath. Without thinking I jump into my Superman suit and bolt out of the window straight into the sky headed towards Charlotte’s apartment. As I get closer, I can hear her whimper along with her accelerated heartrate and I panic thinking she’s in trouble. I reach her unlocked window and slide it open before flying in. Her apartment smells just like her, floral and clean. I focus on her heartbeat and the quiet buzzing sound that I originally thought was coming from the apartment below hers. As soon as I open the door I smell her arousal at the same moment I watch her reach her climax with her eyes clamped shut. 

“Yes, baby!” She cries out. Her legs are parted as she holds a small purple vibrator against her clit and I can see and smell how turned on she is as her pussy glistens with her want. Her breasts are barely contained in a thin white tank top as they heave up and down while she breathes through her orgasm.

Fuck! I’m such a pervert. I need to get out of here before she sees me!

I can’t help but stare at her as she’s laying there twitching from her euphoria. I reach for the door to carefully close it before I realize I wasn’t quick enough.

“Oh my god!” She shouts as she pulls the covers over her body to cover her modesty. Her face blushing profusely as she stares at me.

I back up quickly with my hands in front of me until my back hits her hallway wall. “I’m so sorry. I heard you calling for me and I thought you were in pain. I swear I didn’t mean to walk in on you!” I blurt out quickly not even realizing my own mistake. Charlotte just stares at me with a shocked and bewildered look on her face.

“I’ll go, truly I’m so sorry about this, Ma’am.” I say with my eyes directed at the floor as I pray my rock-hard erection isn’t as obvious as it feels in my form fitting suit. Right as I turn to run back towards the window I hear her again.

“Wait! Please wait!”

Her eyes are wide as she slowly begins to smirk as I turn back around to face her, my eyes still drawn to the floor.

“I didn’t call out for Superman. I called out for Clark.” She says and I glance up at her with wide eyes as saucers as I realize that I had just outed my own secret. My cheeks blush and I can’t put together a single thought to respond to what she just said.

We stare at each other for what feels like minutes even though it’s only just a few seconds.

“I knew I was onto something. You’re always MIA around when Superman is on the news fighting crime, and you stiffen up anytime I mention him. You also had to leave early because of a “family emergency” on our third date but seemed confused later when I asked you if everything with your family was okay. That was the same night that serial killer was brought to the police station by Superman in Gotham. I…I hope you know that I won’t ever tell anyone, Clark. I thought you knew that you could trust me.” She says and I step towards her while remaining a safe distance.

“I’m…I’m so sorry, Charlotte. I didn’t mean to lie to you. I do trust you but I’ve had to keep this secret my entire life. I was scared at how easily you caught on. I always knew you were intelligent but I was hoping I could still keep you off of the scent of my deception.” 

“It was really just a theory, but obviously this is my confirmation. Since I’m already more than embarrassed after what you just saw, I guess I really have nothing to lose if I just go ahead and ask you.”

“I’m listening.” I say as I hear her heartrate begin to increase steadily.

“Is this why you’ve held back from me? Or are you even interested in dating me? I’m absolutely fine with taking things slow if that’s what you want. I can’t help my old insecurities that make me wonder if you’re even attracted to me and are serious about taking things further with us.” She says with the sweetest innocence and I can’t help but walk towards her and reach out to stroke her cheek. She pulls for me to sit down beside her and I can’t resist.

“I am absolutely interested in dating you, sweetheart. If you only knew how infatuated I am with you, it might frighten you. You are my dream girl, the one I think about each night, and the one person I feel like truly sees to my soul, even when you only knew half of my identity. I see a future for us, Charlotte, which is why I was scared. I was scared that you would run if you found out who I am. I was scared you then might only be interested in me because I’m Superman. Simple Clark just can’t compete with all of the Superman fanfare. What scares me the most is that you could be used as a pawn by dangerous people. I can’t fathom putting you in harm's way. People could come after me and find you to use against me. Being Superman ruined my last and only real relationship so I guess I felt that if I kept ours in limbo, I could still have the time I crave with you while also not losing you. I was afraid to let you in because of my own fears. It has absolutely nothing to do with you. I can’t even begin to tell you how hard it was to not kiss you during our dates or come into your apartment when you invited me. I’m so sorry if I made you feel anything other than absolutely adored. I’m out of my element and have no idea what I’m doing.” Clark says the last part with an embarrassed chuckle.

“Clark, I understand your fears and your sense of self-preservation. I do it too. I often feel like I’ve built the walls around my heart too high in order to protect myself from heartache but each moment I’ve spent with you seems to lower them. I see a potential future with you too which is terrifying and exhilarating all at once because I don’t want to be heartbroken again. I guess what I’m trying to say is that you are worth the risk.  I’m not afraid of you, or being with you. I’m not going anywhere. I want you in any and every form and I won’t run away. You are the only person that has made me feel alive again in years.”

Clark smiles triumphantly before leaning down and kissing Charlotte passionately. After kissing her for several minutes, she slowly pulls back to catch her breath.

“So, you’ve seen mine… When do I get to see yours? Fair is fair.��� Charlotte looks up at me sultrily as she runs her hands up and down my arms.

“Are you certain that is what you want?” I smirk as I arch my eyebrow at her.

She nods as she sits up on her knees and drops the blanket that was covering her body only clad in a thin white tank top. 

“Only if you want too.” She seductively bites her lip as she trails her fingers down my torso and gently cups my bulge that is swelling indecently against my tight suit. 

“Holy shit!” She murmurs quietly as she presses against my engorged erection and I can’t help but chuckle.

Before I even think I’m unzipping and tugging my suit off of my body at super speed before leaning over her and ripping her tank top from her torso. She squeals in excitement as I lean over her pressing our hot naked bodies against each other while pulling her into a zealous kiss.  

“You don’t know how long I’ve fantasized about having you like this, Lottie. I’ve wanted you to be mine from the moment I saw you.” I say as I touch all over her beautiful body.

“Ditto, which you obviously know since you got a front row seat to my indecent fantasies about you.” She says with a little giggle as I begin kissing down her torso after having already sucked on her pert breasts.

I make my way down her body as I become face to face with her hot, dripping core. I smell the sweet arousal coming from her and when I look up at her for permission she quickly nods as she reaches to caress my cheek. I smirk at her before I begin feasting on her sweet petals and sucking on her clit. 

“Oh my god, Clark!” She almost yells while her hands tug against my hair as she begins gyrating her hips to increase the pleasure she is receiving from my mouth. I continue for a few minutes as I feel her begin to stiffen from her orgasm. I continue to lick her gently through her orgasm but decide that I’m not finished with her yet. I want to give her an orgasm so earth shattering that she squirts her arousal all over my face. She shouts as I shove my finger into her opening, quickly followed by a second one. I curl my fingers and search for her g-spot. 

I know quickly that I’ve found it when her back arches off of the bed and she yells, “Fuck! Clark! Right there!” 

I begin shoving my fingers against the soft spongey spot while my tongue continues to flick over her clit. 

“I think I’m gonna… oh shit Clark! This feels different! Oh my god!” She squeals as her body arches off of the bed and she begins to squirt. The sounds of her squelching and dripping are lewd as I continue to work her through it. Her body almost convulses around my assault and I preen at her filthy moans. I am doing everything to keep from blowing my load on her bed. I watch as Charlotte’s whole body quickly becomes jelly-like as her muscles relax and I lightly kiss her thighs. 

“That was beautiful, baby.” I say as I press small kisses on her hips and abdomen.

“Did I? Oh my god, Clark. Did I just squirt?” She asks as her cheeks are beet red.

“You sure did baby. Soaked my face and almost made me blow my load. Did it feel good?”

“Yes, but I’m so embarrassed. I’m so sor...” She began to say before I quickly cut her off with a kiss. 

“Don’t you ever apologize for that sweetheart. That was a pure masterpiece and I hope I’ll get you to do it again at some point. I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on.” I admit before kissing her again.

“Now it’s your turn.” She smiles as she attempts to push me to the bed. It’s like a kitten trying to push a lion over which makes me grin before I quickly concede and lay on my back. 

“Babygirl, you don’t have too. I’m just happy to give you pleasure.” I tell her.

“Oh no, Mr. Kent. I’m not missing an opportunity to taste you.” Charlotte says as she begins moving down my body. I can barely lay still once she reaches my manhood and I feel her warm breath where I need her most. I groan as I take in the sight of her tiny hand wrapping around my girth as she begins to kitten lick along my length. I groan as she looks at me doe eyed before she takes me in her mouth. She has the mouth of a goddess and I’m already close before she even adds her tiny hand to pump what wouldn’t fit. I reach down and grab her long beautiful hair into a makeshift ponytail so I can watch her. I feel her tiny hand begin pulsing around my balls and groan loudly. I can’t help myself as I watch her steady herself before taking my entire length to her throat. She gags as her nose reaches my skin and she slightly pulls off before doing it again. Saliva is dripping from her chin as she continues working my cock.

“Babygirl, I’m gonna cum. You need to...fuck… stop if you don’t want it in your mouth.” 

She moans around my length as she doubles her effort and the vibrations feel heavenly. That’s all it took for me to reach my high and explode down her throat.

My body shivers in aftershocks due to the oversensitivity as Y/N continues to suck around the head of my cock and massage my balls. I look down and see that she’s swallowed everything and is smiling brightly at me. I reach down and pull her up my body as I immediately begin kissing her breathless. 

“Darling, that was incredible. Thank you.” I smile at her before I kiss down her neck. 

*CHARLOTTE POV*

My mind is empty of every thought due to the alarm bells and “OMG THIS IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING” screaming repeatedly in my head. I’m trying my best to play it off, but my fantasy is coming true and it’s even better than I ever could have imagined. Clark is not only the best kisser I’ve ever experienced, but he has the body of a Greek God. Well, in this case, he has a body of a superhero. I’ve been doing my best not to sound needy but heavens, I need him inside of me.

“Clark” I say as he continues to press gentle kisses behind my ear and the column of my neck.

“Yes angel?” 

“Please tell me I don’t have to wait long for you to be inside of me. I need you.”

He smirks above me as I feel his rigid cock against my abdomen. It didn’t go soft after his orgasm. “You want me right now?” I nod enthusiastically. 

“Spread your legs for me sweetheart. Take what you want.” Clark says huskily in my ear. For a man who seemed so reserved and shy, he has all of the confidence in the world when it comes to the bedroom. As he should!

I smile wildly as his chest vibrates against my own with a low growl as I reach his hard length and pump him a few times against my slick before pressing him to my entrance.

“Oh my god!”

“Shit!” 

We both speak simultaneously as he seats himself fully inside of me. It feels like he is reaching my lungs as he gives me a moment to adjust around his ginormous cock.

“God, Clark! You’re huge!” 

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” Clark frets even though he hasn’t moved inside of me.

“Fuck no!” I respond almost breathlessly as I wrap my hands around his biceps tightly. 

“I’ve just never been with someone as big as you. I’m okay. You can move now.”

Clark carefully pulls almost completely out of me before gently sliding all the way back in. 

“Baby girl, you are so tight and warm. You feel incredible.” He says as he starts building up a gentle rhythm. 

“You won’t break me, baby. You can go harder.” 

“I could if I’m not careful, Sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I will tell you if it starts to hurt, I swear. Relax, baby.” I say before kissing him enthusiastically. He reaches and cups my tits in his hands, massaging them gently.

Clark watches me carefully before taking a breath and slamming into me roughly. His pubic bone slamming into my clit making me shriek with the sensation.

“How’s that for harder?” He whispers.

“Oh, fuck yes, baby! Just like that! You feel so good inside of me.” I whine as my hands scratch down his back without even making a mark on his strong impenetrable skin.

“That’s right, sweet girl. I can tell you’re close. Come all over my cock. Squeeze me.” He says as my body begins milking him. 

“CLARK!” I shout.

“Call me Kal, baby. When I’m balls deep inside this sweet pussy, I want you to call me Kal.” He says with the most shit eating grin while never slowing his pace.

“Oh my god, Kal!” I moan just before my eyes roll back and I instantly come all over him.

“Fuck yes, this is the tightest little pussy in the world. So beautiful and wet and snug around me.” He grunts as he continues to slam into me. Before I realize it, he’s sitting me up in his lap so that our chests are against each other and my legs are wrapped around his waist. Clark grabs the back of my neck to press himself even closer to me as I brace my hands on his shoulders. 

“Just when I thought you couldn’t possibly become more beautiful….” Clark whispers into my ear as he grabs my ass to help me move on top of him.

“Watching your gorgeous body tremble in ecstasy is the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen, Angel.”

Clark plants his feet against the floor and begins wildly thrusting as I rotate my hips in his lap. His hands are most likely leaving bruises on my hips but I don’t even care.

“I want you to come inside of me, baby. I need to feel you fill me up. I’m on the pill. Please?” I speak against his ear between his heavy thrusts into me and clench down on him at his responding moan. What has gotten into me? I’ve never let a man come inside of me. This isn’t just any man though, and I am absolutely feral for him.

“Only if you come with me.” He grunts.

“I can’t… it’s too much.” I tell him as my body shakes against him.

“Yes, you can, baby.” He reaches between us and presses his thumb on my clit. I cry out from overstimulation but realize I’m almost there.

“Kal, right there! I’m so close!”

“Come baby. Soak me.” He says as he continues to pleasure me and a moment later I have the most blinding orgasm of my life. I swear that I feel like I am floating as I hear Clark grunt and release a deep baritone moan as his warm come coats my inner walls. My body is shaking with tingles to all of my extremities as I am encased in pure bliss. When I finally somewhat come to, I realize I wasn’t just floating from my orgasm, Clark and I were actually floating above my bed. Clark’s head is resting on the junction of my neck and shoulder when I quickly press closer to him and wrap my arms around his neck to keep from falling.

Clark chuckles as he gently sets us down on the bed. “I guess you would’ve found out my secret eventually. I just came so hard that I literally levitated.” 

I giggle and press my lips to his. “I didn’t freak you out, did I?”

“Not at all. I think it’s really cool that you are Superman, Kal;” I say as I stroke a curl that has fallen onto his forehead. “but the man that I have been falling in love with is Clark. He is all I need. The rest is just a bonus. If you’ll have me of course.”

Clark rests his forehead against my own as he gives me the most panty dropping smile. “You don’t know how much that means to me, sweetheart. Will you be my girl?”

“I would love nothing more.” I respond with a sweet kiss. The rest of the weekend is spent wrapped in each other.

[cinnamonest]

I assume this is because I criticized Kamala Harris in my last post.

I want to address this because it's important to me and frustrations currently consuming my life, and I'm very emotionally unwell right now. I want to share my experiences and make a point I feel is important at this time.

Once again, this is very unfitting of the smut fanfiction blog and will be deleted later, even though I'm sure this is a huge follower-losing post, but whatever.

Forgive me for rambling so much, but I encourage you and people who think like this to read in entirety.

I realize things are tense right now in the US.

Part of the reason for my inactivity the past while (besides multiple hospitalizations) is that I'm glued to my screen every night now because I'm very scared. I've been spending all my time researching, watching videos from economists, etc.

(Preemptively, sources for everything I'm about to say: the FEMA Privacy Act Statement itself, the official CPB database, Helene People Finder, United States Council of Foreign Relations, Samaritan's Purse, NYC.gov, Starlink, Politico, ABC, CNBC, georgia.gov, nc.gov, tn.gov, my own life)

The US is an extremely high-tension, polarized political climate, largely due to the bipartisan system.

However, no one should be immune from criticism.

All politicians should be criticized when they do harm. I am allowed to criticize her, and I will.

Criticizing one candidate is not the same thing as endorsing/supporting their opposition.

3,000+ Appalachians are missing. The current death toll makes this the deadliest single event in the US since 1862. A higher death toll than Hurricane Katrina, a higher death toll than the events of 9/11/2001, a higher death toll than any mass shooting.

However, it is largely going completely ignored, and mainstream news media has barely acknowledged it, in part due to elections, but largely because the people who live in Appalachia are poor, rural people. And the harsh reality is that poor people's lives are not treated with the same value as people of higher classes.

FEMA continues to do nothing, and the feds are now threatening to take children away from homeless parents... yet they blocked donations of trailers and campers from nearby areas that would help those people to, you know, not be homeless. A kind group of Amish have come down from Pennsylvania to build shelters, and FEMA may tear them down too since they don't have "permits."

Harris had the opportunity to do something, and has the authority to order FEMA agents to act differently, but she chose to exploit the situation for publicity, then leave and otherwise ignore them. She then went on to pay Beyonce $10,000,000 to speak for 5 minutes.

That deserves to be criticized.

Her campaign continues to claim a good economy and job market, when inflation and cost of living has peaked, and just this month, their policies actually have officially led to one of the worst employment outcomes the United States has seen since the Great Depression, disproportionately affecting low-income workers.

That deserves to be criticized.

She has a bad track record during her time in the judicial system for the way her actions harshly affected underprivileged people, especially Jamal Trulove, who was terribly wronged.

That deserves to be criticized.

Furthermore, the reason FEMA/the government does not have money for Appalachia is for a few reasons, all of which were ordered, facilitated or allowed by the current administration:

1) we've sent over $100 BILLION to the IDF so they can keep blowing up hospitals and kindergartens,

2) we sent $175 BILLION to Zelensky so he can keep sending young men into violent deaths even if its against their will,

3) we just sent $100+ million to Lebanon even after the hurricane crisis, meaning the federal government explicitly chose to prioritize foreign aid over its own people,

4) money was taken directly from FEMA reserves for crises like ours, and used as part of a whopping $150,000,000,000 spent on mass migration — including free flights, a $20 million welcome center with a free-use "game room" with dozens of Xboxes plus free food/lodging, and in NY, an average of $1400 prepaid debit card per individual each month.

Meanwhile, Appalachians get a one-time $750 per family, and if you have insurance to cover anything, it's a LOAN you have to pay back (many "fact-checkers" are claiming this is false when its literally in the FEMA eligibility statement). Many of the independent line workers FEMA hired for repairs are reporting they have not been paid AT ALL since starting.

In other words, the money that was specifically reserved for saving lives in times of crisis was spent on video games and free money handouts.

That, holy hell, deserves to be criticized.

Secondly, I want to address the message itself.

I realize that a lot of the american tumblr userbase is 1) people young enough that they're still partially financially dependent on parents and/or 2) are, like most of the US statistically, earning middle-class incomes, and live in fairly population-dense environments.

Most people outside the US, on the other hand, are getting their perceptions of life, politics, etc in the US from the posts/narratives of people within the aforementioned groups, popular culture, and their own local media, so their perspective is often quite limited, to no fault of their own. I'm sure my perspective of life in other countries is also very limited.

Most of you live in places other than where I live, and live very different lives from mine. As humans, we are naturally prone to subconsciously assuming the lives of others are not too different from our own, and do not naturally stop to consider how various factors might affect people's lives and decisions.

We are social beings, prone to adopting the beliefs of others who have the same experiences and thereby the same limited perspectives as us, especially in ideologically homogenous environments.

However, I have just as much of a voice as anyone else.

My hope is that I can use my words and experience to foster empathy for one another between different people in a very polarized climate at a very tense time.

I'm originally from a fairly rural community of about 8,000 people, largely low-income, low-education, evangelical blue-collar workers and farmers, in the Bible Belt.

It is well-known that this demographic overwhelmingly voted for Trump. I don't deny that. I visit home a lot, I see the yard signs everywhere, flags hanging from pickup trucks and farm fenceposts, lots of red hats.

There is a reason for that.

The administration of the past four years has utterly destroyed many rural, low-income communities.

It caused a huge spike in job layoffs, leading to homelessness, drug abuse, hunger and poverty for many already low-income people, and for select communities, violent crime.

I'm fortunate enough to have had parents better off than most of the community, but I'm self-sufficient now, and I am in the bottom 20% of incomes in the US, even with a degree. I could write endless paragraphs on how hard it is to get by, but to summarize for the sake of shortening — it's very, very rough.

Everything has become drastically more expensive, very rapidly over the course of a few years. Groceries are 3x their 2021 prices. I had to get a guarantor for a one-bedroom apartment.

Many rural families resort to drastic measures to get by. Small farmers are being financially strangled out of their way of life.

The actions of the Biden-Harris administration is the reason a huge portion of my extended family was laid off and now face total destitution, as there are simply no jobs left available.

The Biden-Harris border and crime policies are responsible for the brutal rape of a significant number of women and girls in this geographic region. Statistically, these rapes have quadrupled compared to the previous administration.

A woman was raped and stabbed to death about a mile from where I live.

Our nearby neighbor, a cow farmer back home, was attacked on his own property.

I have personally faced multiple instances of sexual harassment and aggression, some of which were very frightening. I know other girls nearby experienced the same or worse.

Alcoholism and hard drugs due to the spike in unemployment and poverty has ruined many lives, and help is often hard to access in rural regions.

A woman my mom was acquainted with ended her own life in 2023 because her children were taken from her due to her drug addiction and poverty. People I played with on the church playground as kids are now unemployed heroin addicts.

I've watched my mom driven to tears after realizing how drastically her income tax increased, and how little she has left after them despite working around the clock.

All of these can be traced back to the policies and actions of the current administration, and the current Harris-Walz platform's proposals will drastically increase it all — largely voted for by people who live in economic situations and locations as such that they are fairly unaffected by these consequences, so they may not understand how it affects these people.

I could write endless paragraphs of all the people I know who have been at best negatively affected, at worst utterly ruined, by the current administration.

Since I have the unique background of understanding these people whilst having more liberal values as an individual, with a broad range of people I interact with now, I have tried to have discussions on this over the last year or so, in real life and virtually. I believed that raising awareness would make people on the left-leaning side empathize with them, and inspire dialogue to work to implement ways to account for the concerns and needs of the rural poor, and incorporate that into their existing proposals.

I was incorrect. I've been very polite and respectful in how I address others in these discussions. In the vast majority of interactions, I was not given the same in return.

A few were receptive, which I appreciate, but in most of my experiences, the same group that is known for encouraging empathy, apparently doesn't apply that philosophy to people they dislike — no matter how I presented it, they immediately rushed to demonize, censor, humiliate, shame and gaslight me, and expressed callous apathy at best, if not active contempt, for my people.

They say "that doesn't happen," and I think they genuinely believe that due to limited perspective — but the reality is that they're simply in a position of privilege as such that it isn't happening to them.

Similarly, what you have to understand is that from the perspective of many rural people in red areas, their experience is that more privileged people inflicted this suffering on them by voting for it, then silence and shame them for speaking out about it.

Likewise, they also have a limited perspective — for them, the issue I see is that they adamantly believe the "other side" is already well-aware of the effects their choices have on others. I don't think this is true, I think many on the other end are unaware of these issues.

This dual lack of understanding creates mutual resentment and bitterness, which fuels tension.

I will say that trying to explain how girls in my community were assaulted or my own harassment, only to have it spammed with replies along the lines of "don't care" or "deserved" or calling me a liar, seeing posts mocking or wishing harm on people like my family accumulate tens of thousands of likes, having people I care about referred to as "trailer trash," passive-aggressive statements implying I'm too unattractive for a man to harass — this, along with other distasteful actions I've seen, has pushed me away from the left as a community, and I don't think that's unreasonable.

Similarly, labeling people you know nothing about as bad people, without making any effort to understand their circumstances or what they actually believe and why, will drive people away and make them resentful.

My community is multiracial, women are highly valued in southern culture for various reasons, and they themselves are marginalized and underprivileged. They're kind people who have been good to me.

I haven't really met any people who are hateful, nor is hate the reason for their votes — they're all voting as they do because they are scared, exhausted, grieving and desperate. A lot of people in the area never voted before, but are now registering to vote in droves because they feel their backs are against the wall, so to speak.

Moreover, Orange Man himself redirected $14 million dollars to Appalachia, continues to raise awareness for them in speeches, and Musk, who is associated with him, has a team working to help Appalachians. He's also the only noteworthy figure that has acknowledged certain issues affecting them.

They realize that the situation in Appalachia could just as easily be them in the future, that they'd be given the same treatment.

This has resulted in a lot of rural poor people feeling that he cares more for their lives, compared to Biden/Harris who more or less neglected them. Which, considering that, is a fairly reasonable conclusion on their end.

Finally, it is true that blue voters tend to be in favor of abolishing or ruining crucial aspects of our way of life that, I say this politely, they do not fully understand, while the people here want to preserve their way of life.

So, while I have more liberal values that differ from most people back home, I don't believe they are bad people. They are reacting very reasonably to the circumstances they're in.

All I ask of others is to consider, no matter where you are or what beliefs you align with, and no matter what happens tomorrow, that the "other side" to your own may not be the evil people you have been led to believe they are, but are humans whose lives are simply different from yours, and they are acting in accordance to their experiences, circumstances, and fears.

The growing trend of demonizing political opposition with no attempt at empathy, only creates more pain in the world. I hope this has helped to foster better understanding, and that people can be kind to one another.

That is all I wanted to say.

[hexed-padlock]

Hi. As requested by a few people, here’s a fic of my AU/Headcanon where Tav killed Strahd but keeps it a secret from the party. I’m planning a few different scenarios of the reveal, but here’s the first (and most serious). Next ones are gonna embody the original premise more. Couldn’t get this scene out of my head though. Also a bit of Astarion x Tav here.

Takes place as you meet Cazador, where he starts mocking Astarion.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Do the cattle not know you?”

They were below the Palace, facing Cazador as he readies the ritual for his Ascension. 200 years of torment and this is where it all ends. Here and now.

Astarion tenses, seconds from lunging. This was his tormentor, the bastard who robbed him of his freedom, the monster who destroyed thousands of lives. A vampire hundreds have tried and failed to kill.

The room grows colder as Cazador continues to humiliate, to mock, to belittle.

Astarion’s jaw clenches and-

Tav laughs, loud and mocking. They’ve barely reacted thus far, and the sudden noise catches everyone off guard. Their eyes glint, one natural and the other burning with fiery, infernal magic.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t take you seriously anymore. You truly are pathetic.” Tav taunts, head tilting as a lazy smirk crawls onto their face.

Cazador’s own mocking grin turns down into a sharp frown as he finally turns his attention to Tav. “Just what makes you think you can speak to me that way? You’re nothing more than a lamb led to slaughter. Cattle to be consumed. An animal at best.”

“Are all vampires this delusional?” Tav voices the question to no one in particular. Cazador seethes, and the party tenses.

What was Tav doing? Were they insane?!

Astarion moves to grab Tav as they take a couple steps forward, but misses as they smoothly sidestep away from his grasp.

Tav pulls out a sword hilt from the pouch on their hip, testing it’s weight in their hand absentmindedly. The party never understood the significance of this old sword hilt. Sure, it was beautiful, made of an elegant platinum, but it has long since lost it’s blade. Dammon once offered to forge it a new blade but Tav politely declined.

“I’ve met another vampire before you. He was always prattling on and on about being all powerful, lord of the night… something something.” Tav pauses to shift the sword hilt to their left hand. Slowly, deliberately, Tav locks eyes with Cazador (pointedly ignoring their party). “He’s dead now, of course.”

For a moment, Cazador pauses, before the same mocking grin returns. “A spawn is hardly considered a vampire. Though perhaps to you, worm, you see no difference.” Cazador then begins speaking slowly, as if communicating with a child or an animal. The mocking grin grows. “Allow me to enlighten you-“

“I never said ‘spawn’,” Tav cuts off Cazador. “Maybe your old age is finally getting to you, leech.”

Tav shifts the sword hilt back to their dominant hand, subtly maneuvering the hilt into a proper grip. “Maybe you’ve heard of him. His name eludes me. Forgive me, but it’s been a few years. I think it starts with an S.”

All the while, the party is flabbergasted. Sure, they’ve seen Tav do some questionable things over the past few months such as walk straight into a goblin camp, lick some spider meat, and even taunt Mizora—but this is a new level of insane.

Astarion tries to get their partner to stop, because for the love of everything, shut up. He’s never seen Cazador this mad before. Sure, they’ve survived some pretty dangerous situations before, but taunting a vampire lord is madness. However, each time he tries to move or speak, his voice dies in his throat. He’s terrified, he’s rooted on the spot. He’s afraid of Cazador yes, but he’s even more afraid for Tav. The brilliant, shining light of his life. The one person who showed him kindness, love. He’s afraid of Cazador, but he’s more scared of losing them.

Before Astarion could try to intervene again, he feels Tav send a wave of reassurance through the tadpole. They glance back at him for a moment, narrowed eyes softening, before turning once more to face Cazador.

Tav hums for a couple seconds as they pause to think. “Samael? No. Maybe it was Seraph?” They huff for a bit as they make a show of wracking their mind for the name. “Aha! I remember now.”

They brace for combat and the Sunsword answers its wielders call.

Tav’s smirk turns into a cold sneer. Their eyes glow as the hilt in their hand erupts in a fiery plume, a blade of radiant light now burning in the darkness. “It was Strahd.”

————————

Idk… if anyone wants to be notified of a new fic in this AU/series you can let me know?

Anyway, next these will all be independent of each other. Each will be an alternate take on the reveal.

I haven’t written anything besides D&D backstories in literal years so please forgive me if this is rather rough. Always open to constructive criticism.

[evvlevie]

Are you desperate to manifest? Then read my advice.

Hello my sweet followers! It's your favorite shifting/manifestation Blogger Evie again, and today I am here to soothe your nerves.

See, if you are anything like me, I know you. I know the way you have been obsessing over this particular desire of yours, closely watching every single possible hint of this desire arriving in your 3D and continuously over-consuming content on social media regarding manifestation/shifting content.

And since I have been there, I know what kind of advice you are craving. What kind of "hack" you are desperately seeking to finally unlock you having everything you have ever wished for. Coming across thousands of methods, overthinking their legitimacy, doubting everything, feeling like you are pushing your desires away, and then panicking, genuinely panicking, over the fact that you are sabotaging your own self and your desires. All of this ending with asking yourself why you deny yourself heaven.

Let me guide you through this.

First of all:

forget everything you have over-consumed in the last days/weeks/months. All of this extracurricular type of knowledge that you acquired regarding manifestations and all of that. Allow the two of us to start with a clean canvas here.

... you done? Thank you, my darling ♥️

Now let me tell you something about manifestation ...

Key, and I mean 🔑 K E Y 🔑 to manifesting things, is trust and faith.

yes. It's that easy, but also that hard.

Due to the way our society is constructed, we life our lives with the expectation that everything good only comes after a lot of hard work, a lot of pressure and most importantly : control.

There you have reason number one why people get in their own way when manifesting things. They doubt their manifestations can arrive "just because" they wished on it or believed on it. They can not trust into the fact, that that is all it can take, they believe they need some sort of control over their blessings. They want to know how it arrives, when it arrives, maybe even why it arrives. They want to control something, because that would satisfy their belief, that nothing comes from nothing.

Y O U are a spiritual being. Y O U are consciousness. Y O U are also the physical environment that you are in. Your 3D is Y O U.

But your cute little desperate, over-consuming ass knows that already doesn't it? Of course you do. And I am here to reward you with your own little ✨A+✨ for effort, but you need to understand the essence of what it means that the 3D is Y O U.

Your 3D is a direct, and I mean direct, translation of your soul. You and your physical environment are tied together. You are conjoined twins. You might seem like two separate entities, but on every level that matters, you guys are one. Your moods get reflected into the 3D, just like the 3D can affect your mood by presenting you a certain situation. But it is important to note, that everything starts with your assumptions, and ends with your 3D producing the physical version of that. Let me say this again: the 3D is a P R O D U C T of YOUR ASSUMPTIONS. Anything that you see, feel, smell whatever, is old news. It is the physical shape of your PAST thoughts.

So now, when you are affirming that your neighbor is in love with you and is going to ask for your hand in marriage, and he doesn't do it the very next day, do you assume your manifestations have failed? Maybe. Are you panicking now, because you have thought a negative thought and the entire internet has taught you, that this negative thought has now prevented you from ever attaining your desire ever? And do you now affirm against your accidental self sabotage in the way that you are drowning your head in forced positive thoughts that you are not believing a single bit? And are you now back to panicking because you know that you don't believe your forced positive thoughts, and you are anxious that this has now pushed your manifestations further back away?

I have been there. In fact I can only type out this scenario because I HAVE FELT THAT WAY.

But rest assured, because here is where my 🔑 K E Y🔑 of trust and faith ties in.

When I tell you, that you are a spiritual energy capable of changing your physical reality as much as you like, as enormously as you want, I want you to think of yourself like a greek god, or a magician of some sort. As if you had a blank notebook in front of you and anything you write in it happens. 100% Guarantee. How powerful would you feel? That's your exact, and I mean exact, power. The 3D is not your commander. You are like a child with infinite fantasy and the 3D is just play-doh that you mold to your liking. Realize your power. And most importantly: ACCEPT it. Accept, that even the bad stuff that had happened to you, happens BECAUSE of you. Nothing ever starts from anything else other than you. Remember: the 3D is like your conjoined twin. It is not your enemy, because it's delayed production shows you things you dislike, it's simply just you.

✨Now imagine this:✨

Let's say you want to manifest, that you get a brand new car. A MINI. Let's say a red one (totally not suggesting this because I drive a red MINI). And let's say you want that car so bad, you look up at the sky and shout at it : "Please god! Let me have a red MINI! Preferably with a heated steering wheel!" AND TO YOUR SURPRISE a woman right next to you overheard your little prayer there and tells you this: "Lucky for you, I am a fortune teller! And I can see that you are driving a red MINI with a heated steering wheel AND it even has Apple Car-Play!" You jump up and down out of joy and nothing can stop you. Your mother just told you that you guys can't afford another car insurance but you don't care, because the fortune teller already told you about your crazy cool red MINI. Suddenly the every MINI-dealership on the planet is destroyed in a hurricane, but you don't care because you know from your fortune-teller that you will get a red MINI, so why would you bother? Two weeks since then have passed, and out of nowhere your father confesses to you, that he has partaken in a crazy poker-game where a random rich dude has gambled with his brand new, red MINI-Cooper and that your very own dad (who you didn't even know, knew how to play poker) has won this amazing car for you (and it even has heated seats!).

This scenario, is what manifestation is for you, every day. Persisting in a fact that you already have something, despite the 3D showing you different, is trust and faith in yourself as the one and only creator of your reality. YOU are your own fortune teller. YOU know, that your desire is on its way to you, because you decided that it is. Every single time, you manifest things and the opposite is showing up, you need to be your own best friend, your own hero, your own fortune teller and your own creator and remind yourself, that you have all of your desires on their way, because only you can make a decision in your realm. You look outside of the window and there is no MINI in the driveway? Well I guess the translation into the 3D is slow again, because I know I manifested one.

Things have always taken its longest way to me, when I desperately tried to control. Tried to monitor and tried to micro-manage the way stuff happens. And when it didn't come quick enough, I would blame myself and question my powers. But there is no reason to question your powers, when you as the creator are prefect in creating. Your production might be slow, It might be weird and it produces in unexpected ways, but it's for sure reliable. When you put oranges into a juicing machine, you get orange juice. You just have to trust into your own production company that its producing your products (and they are).

There is no reason, no room for anxiety, for overthinking or doubts. The process is simple. You order, you get. Every time. Nothing else. And sometimes you see your old orders before you see your recent ones, but that's okay your recent ones are still on their way. If you were to bawl your eyes out the moment your mother told you, she won't buy you a red MINI, that wouldn't have changed the fact that the fortune teller already predicted you that car. You would just be crying for no reason, but idk maybe you just need to? Who am I to judge the reason someone is crying, bestie?

Manifesting with this anxious overthinking scenario I showed you earlier can feel heavy, but I am here to remind you, that your anxious 3D-reactions are not postponing your manifestations, if you as a creator decide, that you are allowed to react without consequences, or at least without the consequences you would disapprove of. If you panic, and you feel like every single thought matters and manifests, then yeah obviously. The trick is to realize, that there is a cheat code to everything, and in this case, it's deciding that certain things just never happen because you don't want them to.

So finally I want you guys to remember:

be your own fortune teller, and trust into the fact that you always predict correctly.

yours in every reality,

Evie <3

[twinkboimler]

June Fic Recs

It's been a while since I put one of these together! Under the cut are a selection of great spirk, mckirk, spones, and mcspirk fics I've read in the past few months with a brief description of what I liked about them. Enjoy!

SPIRK

Tomorrow’s Circus by Borealisblue. TOS. Explicit, 56,084 words (as of 6/20/24). Work in progress. Circus au, 1930s, everyone’s human. The friends-to-lovers and pining in this is SO GOOD and I really think that everyone needs to be reading this fic. I haven’t been this invested in a fic in a long time; getting that subscription email letting me know this fic has updated can literally fix me when I’m having a bad day. Cannot rec this fic enough if you’re in the mood for a slowburn, plus the art in it is phenomenal.

A Perfect Fit by ThereBeWhalesHere. TOS. Teen and Up Audiences, 7,097 words. Role swap: Captain Spock and First Officer Kirk. Spock’s POV, admittance of feelings, first kiss. This fic is so lovely, I love a fic where I get to just watch these two get to know each other and fall in love.

Time After Time by spaceisgay (ChancellorGriffin). SNW and Disco. Explicit, 138,921 words. I loved this fic. The pining and sexual tension is so good, and this fic has a good balance of humorous fluffy scenes and angst and incredibly hot smut. It’s a spirk fic, yes, but it really dives into sibling dynamics as it explores the Kirk brothers’ relationship as Spock continues to process the Michael-shaped hole in his life. I love this take on this era’s Spock, there’s so much he doesn’t know about himself yet. I also really adore how this fic writes all the characters—you really get a sense of everyone’s personalities in this fic, the entire crew feels so ALIVE. Just fantastic characterizations of everyone!

Big Me (But It's You I Fell Into) by waketosleep. AOS. Mature, 38,728 words. This is the fic that got me to care about golf. I wish I was kidding—now I join my in-laws when they’re watching it on the TV. This fic has a scene between McCoy and Kirk during Kirk’s first tournament with him that had me laughing my ass off. Never not thinking about this fic; the dangerous part about reading a sports au is suddenly you care about that sport. Don’t think it can happen to you? Give this fic a try. 

Consume by the_moonmoth. AOS. Explicit, 1,139 words. Must be logged in to read. Very hot smut. Dirty talk, mind melds, Bottom!Kirk and Top!Spock. This fic just hits.

You Could Call It Love by lurikko. TOS. Mature, 45,791 words. Fake marriage, slowburn, getting together. This fic is SO good, just a whole bunch of tropes that I adore.

SPONES

That Which Lingers by stanzas. TOS Movies. Teen and Up Audiences, 1,008 words. Takes place after The Search for Spock. Established relationship with some very sweet moments as they deal with the lingering side effects of the fal-tor-pan. This fic is just everything to me, it absolutely melted my heart.

So Hold Me Close and Say Three Words by Rusoe. TOS. Mature, 1,103 words. Omegaverse. Nesting, Omega!McCoy and Alpha!Spock. I absolutely wasn’t expecting this fic to dive into insecurities about aging when I clicked on it. Loved this!

Stop Making Sense by therev. TOS. General Audiences, 13,775 words. Spock is severely injured as a result of a decision McCoy had to make in order to save the lives of others. McCoy carries a lot of guilt over his actions, even as Spock recovers from his injuries. Very good.

it’s all downhill from here by strangenewwords. AOS. Teen and Up Audiences, 2,082 words. McCoy takes Joanna sledding. Joanna gets overtired, and McCoy gets overwhelmed and panicky. Love this fic’s take on Dad!McCoy, and the spones in this is so damn sweet.

MCKIRK

and i can lend you broken parts that might fit (like this) by jeyhawk. AOS. Explicit, 17,461 words. Academy era, first they hookup, then get to know each other, and then their relationship grows from there. I’m a sucker for fics with this setup. 

Resistless is your charm by fangirlandiknowit. AOS. Explicit, 6,031 words. After hearing about Uhura’s awful first date with Kirk, McCoy decides to text him. Includes some mini-golfing and a very good car hookup scene. Loved this.

MCSPIRK

Tex-Mex Eggrolls and Spinach Dip by Ncc1701ohno. TOS. Explicit, 3,746 words. Smut, light bondage. The setup for this fic is that Spock, McCoy, and Kirk find themselves stuck in the 21st century and work at the Cheesecake Factory in order to make ends meet. I desperately want this fic to become a multi-part series, because the concept is endlessly amusing to me (which is pretty obvious since I partially inspired the idea). A very funny and very hot fic.

Everything That Disappears by sagesiren. AOS. Mature, 19,748 words. Academy era, kid fic, Trans!McCoy, fluff and emotional hurt/comfort. Absolutely loved this, McCoy being a single dad is everything to me. A very entertaining get-together fic for the three of them while exploring parenthood and being trans.

Approximation by liadan14. AOS. Explicit, 15,167 words. Mutual pining, hot smut, and a really interesting plot told non-chronologically. I especially enjoyed Spock’s characterization in this fic, but I love how all three of them are written!

[yamsgarden]

Damn... Learning about my past through a crazy ex childhood friend's ex was not on my 2024 bingo card...

nw they don't use tumblr, they don't even know what tumblr is so, i'm just gonna vent here for 2 secs because holy shit...

It's just so weird to have to continue life as if everything's normal OTL

I swear to god my life feels like a movie sometimes-- does that happen to everyone?!

Gonna spare the really fucked up details, but basically, an old gang of 6 friends and I (minus the crazy one), have finally reunited yesterday. It had been a year since we didn't see each other, but yesterday, ouhhh so many dark confessions happened OTL

There's a lot to unpack here, but for short, that crazy ex childhood friend had insanely awful jealousy problems and it consumed her. At first she looked fine, but with time it was clear that she was also obsess with men's attention and unfaithful and flirted with her ex's best friend or any guys...

She wanted us to guess how she felt and what she wanted us to do for her, without telling us. She was the one causing huge drama all the time, but she was still somehow the victim...

Basically, that person who once brought all of us together, managed to ruin all of her relationship with all 6 of us. Now we all came back together and our disdain for her, has only brought us closer...

All this situation shocks me, because that ex friend used to tell me how much she was so scared to end up alone... Then she spent months and months making me feel horrible and rejected and hated. She also told me many times how ''her traumas and problems were worst than mine''...

At some point, I finally cut ties with her for good, but I was worry she put up everyone else against me, so I left and didn't want to cause trouble for the rest of the gang.

She was really keeping us altogether out of fear of ending up alone, rather than keeping us altogether out of love...

But now, I guess... Look at who's ended up all alone afterall.

I'm so happy we finally told each other and now, we can all start healing together... It means so much to realized that all this time, they actually never wanted me to leave because of the other crazy fucked up one, but they were too scared of her reaction... They even told me yesterday how they want me back and they want me to stay... Ugh, my heart OTL

We were all too nice to say anything, and in the process we let her hurt us.

But yeah, I guess... Really do be careful who you let in your life OTL Some ppl really do are fake friends and they hate you with a passion but they will still keep you around because they got nobody else.

[sykesandskittles]

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER ONE

Harlow

Sometimes I feel cursed.

Okay, well, not cursed exactly. But I’ve had my share of challenges in the nineteen years I’ve been on this planet. Well-meaning people—usually adults—have always told me to be thankful for my hardships. It makes you stronger. More capable. Independent.

I wish all that were true. Really, the events that have shaped my life just settle like silt inside me, tainting every thought, every action. Until I’m convinced misfortune has been braided into my DNA.

Generational trauma, isn’t that what they call it?

I dig my toes into the wet sand and look out at the Pacific Ocean. It’s hard to feel cursed here, though. Malibu is a magical place, soaked in sunshine, with a surprising small-town feel. But its best quality is how far it is from Fresno. From home. From the events of last year.

The sharp wind whips through my hair and stings my cheeks. My best friend, Talia, and I wandered down to the beach hours ago after we’d unpacked our boxes and set up our dorm rooms.

Talia called me crazy when I waded into the frigid water, dunking my head under the salty waves like some kind of baptism. Maybe it was a type of cleansing. The ghosts of my past washing away with the tide.

If only forgetting were so easy.

“Hey, look what I found!”

I turn to see Talia walk up to me with something cradled in her palm. It’s a piece of green sea glass. “It was probably a beer bottle or something originally.”

Picking it up, I angle it toward the fading sunlight, looking at it from different angles, admiring its beauty. The power of the ocean is wild—transforming an ordinary beer bottle into something so beautiful. I wonder if it has the power to transform me, too. “What are you going to do with it?”

Talia shrugs. “Turn it into a necklace or something, maybe.”

Another gust of ocean Taliaze whips through me, and my teeth start chattering. “It’s almost sunset. We should head back to the residence hall.”

Exeter University West—one of the West Coast's most prestigious colleges—is right on the beach. When Talia and I applied last year, it was a long shot. A pipe dream. We both have decent grades, but nothing spectacular. So, months later, when we were both accepted, it felt like a miracle. Then when I scored a full scholarship, I finally started to believe my luck was changing.

Exeter is the escape I’ve been desperate for. A fresh start.

I look down the length of the beach and see a huge Victorian mansion perched on a cliff, overlooking the ocean. I noticed it when we first got to campus a couple of days ago. It’s hard to miss. The giant Gothic structure is painted a dark, crimson red with navy blue trim, and ornate woodwork that makes it look out of place on a modern college campus. I was probably here first, though, and the university just encroached gradually until the house and grounds were consumed by the sprawling campus.

It’s a creepy-looking house, though. No lie.

“Our residence hall is right on the other side of that weird house,” I say.

“Okay, let’s go,” Talia says, her bottom lip quivering. “I’m turning into a brine-flavored popsicle.”

The sharp wind continues to cut through us as we walk along the sand, getting dark quickly, and we’re two girls walking alone, so I’m on full alert—glancing behind us, my hand resting on the small stun gun tucked into my front pocket.

But the beach is empty—which is surprising, considering the amount of students on campus. It rained a little earlier, and it’s freezing, so maybe that’s why no one is here. But cold or not, there would still be a couple of people out here, at least, right?

“Slow down,” Talia pouts. “Your legs are longer than mine.”

I pause so she can catch up. “Have you noticed there’s no one else out here? That’s weird, right? I mean, it’s cold, but it’s not that cold.”

“There are people out here,” she says, pointing ahead. I squint, and sure enough, there’s a fire burning about half a mile in the distance, on the beach directly below the creepy house. I don’t know how I missed that, but to be fair, the beach isn’t straight—there’s a shrub-capped berm in the way, and the fire is partially hidden behind that.

“Oh, yeah, huh.”

Talia shakes her head and continues walking. “You are so blind. I keep telling you to go to the eye doctor.”

“I’m not blind.”

“Oh, really?” she says. “So when you walked up to that girl back in high school and started telling her off because you thought she was Veronica?”

I frown, trudging after Talia in the sand. Now it’s me trying to keep up with her. “Okay, but in my defense, they could be twins. I’d like to see the DNA report on those two.”

Talia stops and rolls her eyes at me. “The girl you accosted was three inches shorter than Veronica, and has glasses—which you also need.”

I blow out a breath. “Details. Whatever.”

With a scoff, Talia turns back around and we both keep walking. The beach narrows as we approach the fire, so we have to climb over the berm to get to the other side. It’s rough, and the shrubs are spiny, but we manage to make it down the other side.

“I’m remembering why we didn’t come this way originally,” Talia says. “The sidewalk was a lot easier.”

The sidewalk also dips between several university buildings, and in the dark, there’s no way I’m taking that route. I don’t want to say that, though, so I just shrug. “This way is shorter.”

Talia just pushes out a frustrated breath.

The closer we get to the fire, though, it becomes clear that something is sketchy. There are several people, all wearing robes with hoods, gathered in a half-circle around the fire, facing the ocean, chanting something.

Chanting.

What the…?

I reach out and grab Talia, pulling her back into a crouching position. We had to walk up and over, so we’re somewhat concealed by the random tufts of brush, but not entirely. And we’re only about thirty feet away, but thankfully, I don’t think we’ve been seen.

“Holy shit,” Talia whispers.

I blink rapidly to try and see through the murky twilight. There’s one guy, drenched, and completely naked, cupping his family jewels, shivering in front of the cloaked group.

“What are they doing?” I ask my tone low.

“It could be a frat, but the robes are weird. I think this is the Society of the Burning Crown,” Talia says with a note of awe in her voice.

I swallow. “What is that? Please tell me it’s a chess club or something.”

“Does this look like a chess club?” Talia hisses. She grabs my hand and pulls me forward, but I dig my heels into the sand. “Come on, we need to get closer.”

Closer? Is she insane? “Oh, fuck, no. Whatever this is, I don’t want anything to do with it.”

She manages to drag me several feet forward, but only because fighting her could draw attention to us. So far, we’ve managed to go unnoticed, and I’d like to keep it that way.

We crouch down again, and I try to quiet my breathing. It’s not likely they can hear anything over the roaring ocean, or their weird chanting, but I’m not taking any chances. If I could stop breathing altogether, I would.

Someone from the half-circle approaches the fire. I can’t see their faces, but I’m guessing by the person’s size, and broad shoulders, it’s a guy—and he’s probably the leader. He has a long, metal-looking rod in his hand that he shoves into the fire.

“Okay, we’ve seen enough,” I whisper. “Let’s go.”

Talia just waves me off, her gaze fixed on the odd ritual in front of us. Whatever this is, I get the distinct idea that Talia and I aren’t supposed to be witnessing it. And I would love to honor that.

The chanting continues for a couple of minutes, then Lead Guy approaches Naked Guy and says something to him that I can’t hear. Whatever he says is swallowed by the sound of the roaring ocean.

In response to what was said, Naked Guy nods once, then turns to face the ocean, and falls to his knees. His shoulders curl forward, exposing the length of his spine, and I watch as his thin frame vibrates violently against the cold.

Lead Guy takes another step forward, his hand jutting out like a surgeon silently requesting his scalpel. Someone from the circle removes the rod from the fire and places it in Lead Guy’s outstretched hand.

My breath is held, my gaze cemented to the scene as I watch Lead Guy pull his arm back—almost like he’s doing it in slow motion. Is he going to hit the other guy with that rod? Is this actually happening right in front of me?

As Lead Guy’s arm juts forward, and the tip of the rod makes contact, Naked Guy screams out in pain, the sound echoing off the cliffs surrounding us. He’s being branded. The barbaric act is so shocking and so unexpected, that a scream is ripped from my own throat, and I lurch forward.

“Shit, Harlow!” Talia hisses, pulling me back.

I shove my hand over my mouth to silence the whimper that bubbles up from my throat. It’s too late. They see us. Every hooded figure is turned toward Talia and me, and their leader—God help us—is already crossing the sand, closing the distance between us…

HIS EYES ARE A COLD, Dark Brown. That’s the first thing I notice as the leader of this group stalks toward us, shadows from the moon playing across his masked face, half-hidden under the hood of his robe.

Intensity radiates off this guy, his large body moving with confidence across the sand. When he stops right in front of us, I gulp. He looks like a bouncer, ready to toss us out of a club.

Talia and I are standing side-by-side, but when he speaks, he looks directly at me. “Leave. Now.” His voice is muffled by the mask, but it's deep and harsh, and sends a shiver of fear down my spine. “Go back the way you came.”

I’m already half-turned, opening my mouth to tell him, “Yup, no problem, we’re already gone,” when Talia grabs my wrist, stopping me.

“Hold on,” Talia says, looking over his shoulder at the other robed figures. “What are you guys doing out here?”

The guy’s jaw clenches tightly as he drags his gaze away from me and settles on Talia. Behind the mask, his eyes narrow, and if we needed evidence that we don’t belong here, there it is. Right there. That deadly stare.

“Talia,” I say, practically pleading. “Let’s go.”

She doesn’t hear me, or she’s deliberately ignoring me. Either way, she steps up to Lead Guy. “If you don’t want people watching you, then you shouldn’t be doing this—” She waves wildly at the scene in front of us. “–out in public.”

“This is a private beach,” he answers through gritted teeth. “And you aren’t welcome here.”

I grab Talia's elbow firmly and dare a glance at Lead Guy. “We’re leaving.”

I don’t love the idea of taking the sidewalk all the way back to our residence hall, but it’s either that or walk straight through this creepy-ass ritual. Mmm, no thanks. Hard pass.

Talia struggles against me, but I manage to keep my grip. “You can’t tell us what to do!” she practically yells at the guy. “We’re just walking along the beach. You’re the ones doing sketchy shit.”

Oh, damn. He inadvertently triggered Talia's defiance. I’ve known her since middle school, and she’s always been strong-willed, even to her own detriment. Tell her not to jump off the bridge, and she’s going to do it just to prove she can.

Right now, though, my job is to make sure we don’t end up as the topic of a true crime episode.

“Talia,” I say firmly, yanking her in the direction we just came. She digs her heels in, but I manage to move her a little—enough to encourage me to keep pulling. “Let’s leave the nice Jedis alone.”

I hear the stranger grunt as we walk away, and I feel the weight of his gaze pressing on me until Talia and I reach the top of the berm. I release Talia and quickly make my way down the other side of the small hill, then head up the beach, toward the sidewalk. It’s a steep climb, but I make it in record time, Talia trailing behind me.

“Slow down,” she says, annoyed.

I shake my head and pick up my pace. “We shouldn’t have seen that,” I say.

“Oh, who cares, Harlow? They shouldn’t have been out in the open if whatever they’re doing is such a secret.”

I stop abruptly and turn to face her. “The beach is empty.”

I’d noticed that earlier, but I’d assumed it had something to do with the rain. Now, I wonder if people had gotten the memo that something was going down tonight, and had deliberately stayed off the beach.

Lord.

We stumbled onto something we weren’t supposed to see, and I can't help but wonder what the repercussions of that might be. None, I hope. We left, and hopefully, that’s the end of it.

But ever since the incident last year, my mind has been stuck in survival mode. It feels like everything and everyone is a potential threat. So I doubt I’ll stop worrying about this whole thing anytime soon.

It’s taken a mountain of therapy just to get me to this point–willing to leave my hometown and start over somewhere new. And, honestly, if it weren’t for Talia, that never would have happened. In my darkest moments, she was there, guiding me and encouraging me. She’s the one person in my life I can rely on.

But her impulsivity can get her into trouble, and I feel like I’m always trying to rein her in. Even when we were kids, I was saving her from herself. Trying to get her to think before she tumbled right off that proverbial bridge.

“You have to admit, that was amazing!” Talia says, clapping her hands excitedly. “Shit. I never thought we’d get to see something like that.”

I keep walking. The faster we get to the residence hall and off this dark sidewalk, the better. “A guy was getting branded. What’s amazing about that?”

“I’m pretty sure we just witnessed the initiation ceremony for the Society of the Burning Crown.” She’s walking behind me, and I don’t need to see her face to know she has a smile stretched across her face. I can hear it in her voice. “No one gets to see that. Unless you’re a member, obviously.”

I stop and turn around to face her. “That—what we just saw—was super shady. Branding, violence, anything like that is strictly against the university’s policy.”

She looks lost. “Okay, and? What does that have to do with us?”

“Are they going to be worried we’ll tell someone about it?”

Talia snorts. “You’re afraid they’re going to come after us? They aren’t the mafia, Harlow. They don’t give a shit about us.”

Secret societies are like cults in my mind—and cults can do some pretty crazy shit to keep their secrets hidden. I should know—my mom has been in a cult for the last eight years. She joined when I was eleven—just skipped right over to Florida, leaving me to live with my grandmother. That’s the kind of power these types of groups wield.

Talia grabs me. “Harlow, you’ve got to stop worrying so much.” I sigh. “I’m trying, but it’s not easy.”

Her expression softens. “I know, but everything is going to be fine. How were we supposed to know, right? We were just—” She motions casually “–walking along the beach.”

“Yeah. You’re right.”

But as we walk back to the residence hall, an uneasy feeling gathers in my stomach. The whole idea behind coming to ExU was to blend in. Start over. Stay away from drama. Classes haven’t even started yet, and trouble has already rooted me out.

We get to the building fine—thank God—and I swipe my key card. I’m on the second floor, and Talia is on the third, so we part ways on the second-floor landing.

“See you tomorrow!” Talia calls out, walking up that last set of stairs to her floor. “And stop worrying!”

I just roll my eyes and open the door that leads to my floor. It’s going to be tough to fall asleep tonight—but not because I’m worrying. I know the second I lay my head down to sleep, all I’m going to see in my mind’s eye are a pair of electric brown eyes…

The next morning, I’m barely awake when my roommate, Emily, taps me on the shoulder. “Um, Harlow. Are you awake?”

My eyes are practically sealed shut—how could I be awake? Moaning, I roll over onto my side and face the wall. “No,” I say, pushing my voice through the gravel in my throat.

Last night, just as I predicted, I got zero sleep. As I lay in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling, last night’s events were on repeat inside my head.

Was there something I could have done differently? Inside the safety of my thoughts, I’m always braver than I was out there on the sand—and I say something snarky and clever back to Lead Guy. It’s different every time, but he’s always taken aback by my clever response.

I finally fell asleep around five, just as sunlight started bleeding into the night sky.

But my roomie is an early riser—or so she told me yesterday. And that obviously still holds, even though classes don’t officially start for another two days.

“Okay, well, there’s a note or something here for you. I’ll just put it on your nightstand.”

A note?

I wonder if it’s from Talia. Usually, she’d just text me, but if I’m not answering then she might resort to a handwritten note.

The door clicks shut as Emily leaves, and I flip over onto my back, stretching until I feel a pleasant sting spread across my shoulders. Then I blink and pick up my phone. It’s only eight in the morning. My God. Where on earth could Emily possibly be going this early?

Sitting up, I yawn and glance at the note she left on my nightstand. It’s a black envelope with my name scrawled on the back in all caps—not Talia’s swoopy cursive. I open the envelope and pull out a piece of black cardstock. There’s a symbol on the front. It’s a crown, embossed in gold, flames erupting from the tips

.

Oh, shit.

Didn’t Talia say the society we encountered last night was called the Society of the Burning Crown?

I flip the card over.

Preference Ceremony  

Ten O’Clock  

Rush House

Uh.

I immediately text Talia with a photo of the invite, followed by a full screen of question marks.

Talia is in my room within fifteen minutes, sitting on my bed, cross-legged, looking at the invite from every possible angle. “Well, it looks legit,” she says, scratching the gold embossing.

“What’s a Preference Ceremony?” I ask.

Before arriving on campus, Talia did a ton of research about the university—history, culture, clubs, party scene…any information she could get her hands on. Maybe she ran across a website that mentioned it.

“Never heard of it,” she says, tossing the invite onto the bed next to her. She picks up her phone, types something in, then starts scrolling. “There might be something online about it.”

I do my own search on my laptop, but there’s nothing. All I can find on the Burning Crown is general information that’s been posted on a random forum dedicated to secret societies.

“Listen to this,” I say. “The Society of the Burning Crown is a secret society, founded in 1890, on the campus that is known today as Exeter University West. Rush House is the society’s headquarters and sits on the edge of the university’s 124 acres.” I turn my computer, so she can see the photo that’s been inserted between the paragraphs. It’s that creepy Victorian house on the cliff. I pull my computer back and continue reading out loud, “Little is known about the inner workings of the society, but the rumored structure is a larger membership known as the Circle, and a smaller, ruling class, known as the Omen boys. The Omens are the direct descendants of the four founding members.”

Talia scrapes her teeth over her bottom lip, thinking. “Hm. Does it say anything about what a Preference Ceremony is?”

“Nope.”

She lifts her hands, slapping them back down on her knees. “Welp, I suppose we’ll just have to find out then!”

I shake my head. “No way.”

Talia frowns at me, her delicate features scrunched up and contorted. She never really looks ugly, though. She has a pert little nose, high cheekbones, and long, dark eyelashes that are 1000% real. The girls in high school always hated her for that.

She shoves her bottom lip out in a pout. “Oh, come on, why not? It’ll be an adventure.”

“Yesterday, that guy was pissed that we’d stumbled on their…whatever that was. Then this morning, they slid an invite under my door?” I press my lips together. “If that’s not weird, then I don’t know what is.”

“Maybe they just want to make amends,” Talia offers. “You said yourself that they might be afraid we’ll tell someone. So maybe this is their way of, I don’t know, smoothing things over.”

I pick up the envelope that the note came in, reading my name over and over, almost as if I stare at it long enough, it’ll give up its author’s secrets. It just makes me more uneasy, though, if anything.

“How do they even know my name? And why just give me an invite?”

My tone is rising, and Talia must sense how tense I’m getting. She knows the year I’ve had, and how desperately I just want to have a normal freshman experience. Quiet. Boring. No drama.

She reaches over and places a hand on my arm. “Harlow, it’s okay. Societies like this have their hand in everything, and if someone steps foot on their campus, they usually know about it. It’s not personal to you.” She shrugs. “And you probably got the invite because you’re closer to the building entrance. Why bother sending two invites when they know we’re together?”

It’s a paper-thin theory and doesn’t even make sense, but I cling to it because believing there’s a deeper meaning would seriously threaten my mental health. And the whole idea behind starting over is not over-analyzing every little thing. Or so my therapist, Dr. Cunningham, says.

I take a deep breath. “Yeah, okay. Doesn’t matter anyway, because we’re not going.” I snatch the invite up off the bed and rip it in two.

Talia lunges at me, her green eyes wide with horror. “Harlow, what the fuck?” She grabs the two pieces from my hands and tries to fit them back together. “We have to go. No one gets invited to these things. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime thing.”

I lean back against my pillows. “You know how I feel about cults, Talia. Don’t ask me to do this.”

“It’s not a cult. It’s a secret society. There’s a big difference.”

I push out a sigh. “That’s disputable.”

I know her, though. If Talia wants to do something, she’ll do it, no matter what I say. And I can’t let her go to something like that alone—it’s way too sketchy.

“Maybe they want to apologize for last night? And if we don’t go, then they might see that as an insult.”

I make a face. “Apologize? The guy from last night didn’t look sorry. He looked pissed.”

“Okay, let’s compromise. We’ll go, see what they want, and if there’s anything shady happening, then we’ll leave. Easy. No stress.”

No stress. I practically snort at that. I’m already stressed.

I think about it for a second, then take the invite from her hands, shoving both pieces into the black envelope. “Fine, we’ll go under two conditions.”

“Okay, shoot,” she says, and I can already see she wants to squeal with excitement.

“One: we find out what they want, then leave.” I hold a finger in the air before she can respond. “Two: if they even hint at trying to recruit us, we bail right then and there.” Talia opens her mouth to argue, but I stop her. “Ah! We leave immediately.”

She deflates a little, but I think she knows this is the only way I’ll do it. And the envelope has my name on it, which gives me a little leverage. She could try to go without me, but there’s a chance they’d turn her away at the door.

Talia leans back. “Fine. Deal.”

I nod, satisfied. But deep down, I have a sinking feeling there’s more to all of this than a simple apology. Something much darker…

[normalestenstars]

hello everyone! happy (late) new year!! i'm wishing you all a happy and prosperous 2025 

as for me, i would like to talk about the state of this blog, and enstars by extension. last year, i made this blog specifically because i was inspired by a different fandom poll. it was meant to be a silly one-off bit, but i didn't expect for people to actually feel invested in this account. i hope that for the few months this account was active, that these random polls were fun to participate in!

however, addressing the actual topic… during my absence, i have lost all interest in enstars. at first i thought to myself well, once my real life becomes less hectic i can still provide something fun for the community even if i have no interest. you don't need to know recent lore to ask questions like "which nui do you think is the cutest?". i thought i could still do this, but… after the new akatsuki event i don't know if i want to engage in a series that does not respect its fans, even if passively. reading stella maris and ibuki's introduction made me extremely antsy as to how enstars (or i guess specifically, maybe akira?) would handle another indigenous character. it both saddens and angers me that once again, enstars is irresponsible with the messages it pushes (intentionally or unconsciously).

this is a feeling that has been festering for me ever since enstars had the audacity to hype up matrix FOR MONTHS. i am not one to have high expectations for gacha games in the first place, and yet this event felt like a blow i've never experienced before with media. i was extremely angry for the lack of sensitivity enstars showed considering its past history, and seemingly didn't care to correct because all companies care for is profit. why bother putting in effort in cultural sensitivity if you can still acquire thousands in revenue without doing so? such (assumed) beliefs make me beyond angry, and so, my interest dwindled over time. it did not help that i did not care for many new stories either.

as 2024 went on, i've come to realize that i've become extremely unsatisfied with the quality of… everything enstars publishes. which in my personal opinion, is unacceptable for the highest grossing joseimuke. gacha games highly depend on the goodwill (or generosity) of its consumers, and yet, enstars seems to expect its audience to accept any and all content. and i ask the question: why? why must we accept offensive portrayals of indigenous people or their cultures, why must we accept ableist writing, etc., why must we accept slop that is simply a cash-grab ? do we not deserve better as fans of a joseimuke that can earn one billion yen in a month? if this was merely a disagreement of the creative direction, i could accept the fact that enstars developed into something that doesn't suit my tastes or expectations. but it's not—it's the continuous disrespect.

i loved crazy:b.

to be honest, i still do love crazy:b. i love their dynamic, i love the bonds they've formed together, i love the characters within this unit, i love their overarching story. and as embarrassing it is to admit this, rinne is still one of my favorite characters despite not liking enstars anymore. but just because i love something doesn't mean i'm willing to overlook flaws or serious issues within the writing/narrative. after all, one of the selling points of enstars is its writing. so therefore, why shouldn't i analyze + critique it? why shouldn't i form opinions around a media that depends on you, the consumer, to form emotional attachment to (for profit)? this is normal and healthy within the scope of media literacy.

as of late (more like a year or so), it feels like being a fan of this series is nothing but a cruel punishment for having the audacity to be invested in these characters. the hatred enstars seemingly has for its fanbase is very… odd, to say the least. i do not understand what compels them to conduct themselves like this as a business. they continue to publish offensive content with no sign of improvement, continue to disregard the feelings of fans, continue to create half-hearted content, and expect to be not held liable for it. and personally, i find that both laughable and ridiculous how greedy this company is. they want our money, yet do not respect us as consumers.

i don't really know how to end this post. i did not mean for it to be so long either. i suppose with all of this rambling, i think it would only be appropriate to direct people to enstars contact form (https://ensemble-stars-music.zendesk.com/hc/ja/requests/new -> select the last option on the dropdown to send feedback). 

additionally, if you've seen the enstars account post a live stream announcement with the akatsuki + ibuki seiyuu, please do not harass them. they have no control over the decisions of management.

anyway, this is a long winded way of saying i probably will not post on this blog anymore. i will not delete it as people seem to derive enjoyment from old posts still, but there will no longer be any future polls. i'm genuinely sorry for leaving this blog if you liked participating in these polls. i had plans on coming back, and i wanted to provide something fun for fans, but i just cannot bring myself to post about enstars anymore for many reasons. which sounds really dramatic, maybe some of you even think i am overreacting. but (most importantly) i'm just tired of a company disrespecting everyone. whether it be through the writing or business decisions, it's just not fair, nor normal. we deserve better. do not lower your standards for a gacha just because you love it—they depend on your willingness to splurge. and that is a powerful position to have as a consumer, even if it doesn't feel like it.

i wish everyone the best, especially if you continue to keep up with the series.

or TL;DR: i hope everyone had fun participating in enstars polls! i appreciate all the cooperation and support everyone has given me through the months i have posted polls. so for that, i sincerely thank everyone =) ! unfortunately, i have no interest in running this blog anymore because of the way this franchise conducts itself. i've liked my fair share of bad media, but this one... is a winner, in the most perplexing way ever haha... orz