#thanks for the ask! answering these is always fun

[gotta-winwin]

nana tour seungcheol x reader

a/n: this was a request asking for seungcheol during nana tour - it deviates slightly but i hope it'll still satisfy the itch! we love ourselves a loyal man who knows what's up.

(1)

You supposed Seungcheol not being able to follow his group mates to Italy was a blessing in disguise. Of course, you knew how disappointed he was, watching as he bid farewell to them as they boarded the bus, waving goodbye with a melancholic look on his face. 

“I’m sorry you can’t go.” You mumbled against his shoulder as you leaned against him, looping your arms around his waist, careful not to knock against the crutches on either side of him. “Italy sounds fun.”

Seungcheol had always been the sacrificing type. “It’s okay.” He assured you, pressing his lips against the top of your head as he spoke. “It means I get to spend two weeks concentrated solely on you.” 

(2)

You could tell Seungcheol was taking full advantage of his two week break, trying to do anything and everything he couldn’t with his busy schedule. Lounging on the bed as you watched him game, you couldn’t help but snap a few photos to commemorate the moment. It was rare to see Seungcheol this relaxed, with nowhere to be and nothing pressing to do. He was purely just Seungcheol, your gentle giant of a lover and protector of your heart. 

(3)

Seungcheol makes it his own personal mission to complete your checklist of places you’ve never been with your boyfriend. It doesn’t matter if the two of you will be recognized in public, he’ll rent the damn museum if he has to. The two of you spend the two weeks doing every cringey couple activity Seoul has to offer, as he tries to make up for all the times he’s had to choose work over you.

(4)

You find it hilarious when Na PD calls you instead of Seungcheol for one of his quiz games, quietly shushing the boys on the other line as you flip the camera, Seungcheol asleep with his arms draped over your stomach. He’s snoring away without a care in the world as his members laugh through the screen. You answer whatever silly question they had been given to guess, thanking Na PD for bringing the boys on their first real vacation since debut. 

(5)

You’ve always said that your boyfriend also had a boyfriend. Since you had ever known him, Seungcheol and Jeonghan had always come as a pair. One could not exist or function without the other, this being evident as you would often walk into Seungcheol facetiming his other other half. Jeonghan had also cheekily given you the job of sending him what he deemed as a ‘Cheol selfie’ per day, claiming that it wasn’t fair you get him all to yourself and that he deserves compensation. 

(6)

The night before his members were due to return to Korea, Seungcheol had pulled you aside, distracting you from your book as the two of you laid in bed, the sky outside already a dark shade of blue. 

“You know I love you, right?” He whispered, snaking his arms around your waist like second nature. 

Of course you knew. He never once gave you even a moment to forget. 

“You know I love you more than anything, right?” Seungcheol nosed against your stomach, his face pressed against the bare skin of your waist. “And that I’d quit this job in a heartbeat if you ever asked.”

He knew you’d never ask that of him though. “I started loving you knowing that your job and its odd hours came with you.” You reminded him. “I know what I signed up for.”

“These past two weeks made me realize I want more.” He mumbled. “I don’t want to never be home when we start a family.” 

Your lips curled into a smile, looping your fingers through his hair. “You’ve thought of that?”

Seungcheol nodded against you, tugging you closer. The vows you had made each other, even silently, echoed soundlessly around the two of you. 

Seungcheol would choose you over anything in the world. 

[ptergwen]

im not sure if you’ll see this😭 but can i have reader being like maddy from euphoria, confident, bad bitch, short skirts and she’s dating peter and they have this secret relationship cuz shes popular and hes not so they both go to a party and makes out in the restroom and comes out together and then flash is making fun of them and then she just kisses peter right in front of everyone (im so srry this is long but i hope u see this

out of sight, on his mind ‎♡‧₊˚

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w/c: ?

warnings: making out, suggestiveness, drinking, like one swear

a/n: oh i looooved this idea thank you very much for your service babes :D also don't forget to join my new taglist y'all i only got a couple of you so far & happy reading!

you down a shooter, gagging at the bitter taste of the alcohol. you giggle and stick the tiny bottle in your bra. you're dancing with a group of your friends. one of them takes your hand, the two of you moving to the beat of the music. peter watches you from across the room with the hint of a smile.

he wouldn't typically spend his friday night in the corner of a packed houseparty nursing a cup of jungle juice, but ned insisted they go. his best friend is determined they both up their social statuses this year. they're not too popular at midtown, with the exception of the academic decathlon team.

if people only knew peter was dating one of the most popular girls in school; you.

it was peter's idea to keep your relationship secret. you'd wanted to show him off, but he's too shy. you're always the center of attention, and peter parker doesn't do well with attention. he'd much rather admire you with everyone else in public and be yours in private.

"come on, peter! it's a party! shouldn't we be, like, dancing or something?"

"i don't know, ned. just... drink your juice."

ned takes a generous swig of his drink and cringes. peter chuckles, sipping from his cup.

"what's in jungle juice anyway?"

"um, everything i think. you might blackout if you have too much."

"dude, that's the goal."

you catch peter's eye again. you're holding your friend's arm that's wrapped around your shoulders, hips swaying. you shout along to the music with the rest of the girls in your group. you look so carefree, and so damn good.

the pink, strapless dress you're wearing is hugging your body in all the right places. your hair is styled to perfection, tiny gems dotted along your eyelids. your look is complete with a pair of knee high boots. peter loves your style. there's no way to describe it other than that it's you, who peter adores an insane amount. he wishes he could be as bold as you are.

peter's phone vibrates in his pocket; it's a text from you.

are u watching me?

before he even answers, you send another.

come to the bathroom

peter briefly locks eyes with you. you give him a mischievous smile before slipping away, making some excuse to your friends. he bites his lip to suppress his own grin.

"hey, ned? how about i go get us some refills?"

"bet! i’m gonna dance."

ned hands peter his cup and claps him on the shoulder, disappearing into the crowd. instead of refilling their drinks, peter makes his way to the bathroom. there's a few people waiting in line. knowing you, you've already claimed it from them. he knocks at the door. a hand reaches out and grabs at peter's flannel, pulling him inside.

"hi, baby."

your glossy lips capture peter's in a kiss. he instantly leans into it, but you pull back much to his dismay. his big brown eyes go even bigger.

"woah... hi."

you laugh softly.

"miss me?"

"seems like you missed me too."

"maybe."

you run a hand through peter's hair. his hands settle on your hips.

"sorry for watching you, couldn't help it. you look so pretty tonight."

"i always look pretty."

your tone is playful, but peter knows you mean it, and he couldn't agree more.

"whatcha been up to? you having fun?"

your manicured nails scratch lightly at peter's scalp. he practically purrs at the feeling.

"mm, just been hanging with ned. i don't really know anybody else."

"you know me."

"but you're with your friends."

"so?"

"so... you know i’m shy, princess."

you giggle.

"it's just 'cause you're not drunk enough, baby."

"oh yeah?"

peter's thumbs run up and down your sides, face only inches from yours. you retrieve the shooter from your bra. there's still at least half a shot left.

"open."

peter does as you say and opens his mouth. you take his chin between your fingers and tilt his head back, pouring the rest of the strong, sweet liquid down his throat. he swallows. you toss the bottle aside. peter gives you a look, one that says kiss me. you shake your head, smirking.

you want him to kiss you.

peter's lips smash into yours. his eagerness makes you giggle into the kiss. you grip the collar of his shirt in both hands, lips moving slowly against each other's. peter backs you against the door.

"did i already tell you how pretty you look?"

"mhm, but not enough."

"you're right. you're so pretty."

peter kisses down your neck, breathing in the scent of your perfume. you guide his lips back up to yours.

"you are too, y'know."

you peck peter's lips softly, letting your lips linger over his after, eyes searching his. they twinkle. you mesmerize him, truly mesmerize him. you kiss an awe-struck peter properly this time. he holds your waist, head tilted to deepen the kiss.

your make out session is rudely interrupted by someone knocking on the door.

"yeah, one second!" you answer. "let's get out of here."

peter groans and buries his face in your neck.

"but i don't want to. wanna keep kissing you."

"not here, baby."

"why not?"

he leaves more kisses on your neck. you coax peter away, laughing, his arms still wrapped tight around you.

"the line. wanna find somewhere else?"

peter perks up at that.

"okay, let's go."

you lead peter out of the bathroom. he follows, hand in yours. even though no one seems to pay any mind to the fact that you were in the bathroom together, peter can't help but blush. he doesn't make it out unscathed, though; none other than flash thompson notices him.

"penis parker, is that you?"

you stop walking, eyeing flash over your shoulder. peter lets out an exasperated sigh.

"what's up, flash?"

"you are."

peter looks down to see an obvious bulge in his jeans. his cheeks burn hotter, hand leaving yours to readjust himself. a few people turn around to look.

"y/n's a big step up from your imaginary girlfriend. where'd you say she was from again, canada?"

you narrow your eyes at flash, a hand wrapping around peter's bicep.

"do you know him?"

"yeah, we're... friends. sort of. we do academic decathlon together."

your gaze shifts to peter.

"friends?"

"oh yeah, we go way back. any friend of parker's is a friend of mine."

flash smirks at you. you look him up and down, face scrunched in disgust.

"ew."

more people are starting to watch the exchange. you glare at flash, who holds your gaze knowingly. peter can tell you're about to go into protective girlfriend mode. he squeezes your hand that's on his arm.

"anyways, just wanted to congratulate you on your first baddie," flash tells him. "try not to fumble."

before peter can process what's happening, your lips are on his, hands cupping his cheeks to keep him in place. maybe it's just because he's tipsy, but peter actually finds himself having the courage to kiss you back in front of everyone. you smile at this. he holds you by your waist, letting himself enjoy the kiss for a while longer.

peter's lips are puffy and covered in your gloss when you two pull apart. he draws you in closer to himself, giving you one more short kiss, then another. the two of you earn whistles and chatter from everyone watching. you giggle, thumbs caressing peter's cheeks and gaze meeting his.

there's something in his eyes that you haven't seen before; confidence. he might be shy, but not when it comes to you. not anymore.

you look over at flash smugly, his mouth dropped open.

"he won't."

tags (join my new taglist!)

@spidermans-gf @sacharinee

[crossfandomskylines]

His Escape

Pairing: Glen Powell x Female Reader

Summary: When Glen's confidence is shaken after a night of professional disappointment, he finds solace in the unwavering support of the person he loves most.

Word Count: 10,178 (I swear I tried to make it shorter)

A/N: This idea came to me after seeing Glen lose in his category at the Golden Globe Awards. I just wanted to hug and comfort him to make him feel better. And this fic kind of spiraled from there. I hope you guys enjoy! I'd love to hear what you guys think with Hearts, Comments, Reblogs, and Asks!

The soft glow of your living room lamps bathed the space in a warm, golden hue. You were curled up on your couch, legs tucked beneath you, wrapped in the comfort of a thick, knitted throw blanket. The faint scent of vanilla lingered in the air, thanks to the candle flickering on the coffee table, its flame swaying every so often.

The TV screen dominated the room, showing the glitz and glamour of the Golden Globes. Celebrities in their designer gowns and sharp tuxedos glided across the red carpet, dazzling under the flash of cameras. A bowl of popcorn sat mostly untouched at your side, as your attention was split between the broadcast and the phone clutched in your hand.

Your heart swelled as you scrolled through the latest message in your group chat with Glen’s parents. His mom had sent another photo, this one of Glen standing between her and his dad, both of them beaming with pride. 

Glen looked dashing in his perfectly tailored Armani tuxedo, the classic black tuxedo pants paired with a velvet jacket and dark silk shirt. His hair was styled just how you liked it, a little messy but still polished enough for the occasion.

His mom had texted with a string of heart emojis, followed by: He’s so nervous, but he won’t admit it.

You smiled, your thumb hovering over the keyboard as you tried to think of a response: He looks amazing as always. I hope you guys are having fun!

As you hit send, a pang of guilt settled in your chest. You should’ve been there with him tonight, standing at his side as he posed for photos, whispering encouragements in his ear as the nerves crept in. 

But you both knew it wasn’t the right time. Not yet. Glen’s career was reaching a critical turning point—offers were coming in from every direction, interviews piling up, and every move he made seemed to generate more buzz. 

A relationship, especially one that wasn’t yet public, could shift the narrative in ways neither of you were ready for. It wasn’t about shame or secrecy; it was about protecting what you had from the relentless scrutiny of the spotlight. 

Together, you’d decided that attending an awards ceremony like this, arm in arm, might raise more questions than either of you wanted to answer. For now, it felt safer, simpler, to let the world see him as the rising star he was while keeping the quieter, more intimate parts of his life—of your life together—untouched by flashing cameras and prying eyes.

The camera panned to Glen on screen, standing in front of a wall of golden lights as a reporter asked him about his nomination. His trademark smile lit up his face, but you could tell he was deflecting, steering the conversation toward the incredible team behind the project rather than himself. Classic Glen.

Your phone buzzed again with another message from his mom: He’s putting on a brave face, but I can tell he’s feeling the pressure set in.

You bit your lip, the guilt growing heavier. It wasn’t just that you wanted to be there for him—you wanted him to know, without a doubt, how proud you were of him, win or lose. But tonight, all you could do was cheer him on from a distance, wrapped in the quiet solitude of your apartment while he navigated the glitz and glamour of Hollywood without you.

The red carpet coverage cut to commercial, and you leaned back against the couch cushions, staring at the string of fairy lights framing the window. You could hear the faint hum of cars passing on the street below, a reminder that life outside the Golden Globes went on, unaffected by the whirlwind of fame and accolades. 

Your phone buzzed again, and this time it was a photo of Glen sitting at the table during the dinner portion of the show, laughing at something his dad had said. It made you smile despite yourself. 

His mom wrote: We’re so proud of him. 

And you couldn’t agree more.

The TV screen switched from commercials back to the show, and you adjusted your position, clutching your phone tighter as the awards were about to begin. The show unfolded on the screen like a surreal dream. You’d always watched the show in previous years, but this time felt different—personal. Every category, every speech, every camera pan to the glittering faces in the audience felt magnified. Your heart thumped faster with every passing moment, knowing Glen’s category was drawing closer.

The presenters for Best Actor in a Motion Picture - Musical or Comedy strolled onto the stage, their polished banter filling the room. You sat up straighter on the couch, clutching a throw pillow to your chest as the tension in your body mounted.

“And now, here are the nominees for Best Actor in a Motion Picture - Musical or Comedy,” one of the presenters announced with a dazzling smile.

The screen flashed to a montage of clips, each showcasing the nominees in their most memorable scenes. When Glen’s face appeared on the screen, your heart fluttered.

“Glen Powell. Hit Man,” the presenter’s voice rang out, and the camera cut to Glen at his table. He smiled and nodded graciously, his parents beaming proudly in the background. 

You couldn’t help but smile, too. He looked so composed, so effortlessly charming, but you knew him well enough to catch the subtle tension in his jaw, the slight shift in his posture. He was nervous.

The montage continued, the other nominees’ clips playing in turn, but your focus never truly wavered from Glen. When the camera returned to the presenters, your grip on the pillow tightened.

“And the Golden Globe goes to…” One presenter paused for dramatic effect, carefully opening the envelope. The room on screen held its collective breath, and so did you.

“Sebastian Stan!”

Your heart sank.

The room erupted in applause as the camera cut to Sebastian, who stood with a grin and made his way to the stage. 

Glen was on screen for a fleeting moment, clapping politely, the practiced smile on his face flawless. But you could see it—the flicker of disappointment in his eyes before the camera moved on.

You exhaled a shaky breath, a wave of sadness washing over you. You knew how much this meant to him, how hard he had worked for this role, and how much he hoped to win. He really thought tonight was going to be his night.

As Sebastian began his acceptance speech, you couldn’t keep your eyes on the screen. Instead, you stared at your phone, chewing on your bottom lip as you debated what to do. You wanted to comfort him, to tell him how proud you were, but words over text didn’t feel like enough.

Just as you were overthinking your next move, your phone buzzed in your hand. A text from Cyndy lit up the screen.

Hey, sweetheart. I don’t know if you’re watching, but Glen didn’t win. I can tell he’s trying to act like it’s fine, but I know he’s disappointed. I think seeing you would help him.

Your heart skipped a beat. The thought of being there for him, even after such a hard night, sent a surge of determination through you. 

You quickly typed back. I was just thinking the same thing. Where are you guys heading after the show?

Her response came almost immediately. We’re going to an afterparty. I’ll send you the address. I’ll help you get in. Let me know when you’re on your way.

You smiled, feeling a rush of gratitude for Glen’s mom and her unshakeable support. Thank you, Cyndy. I’ll head out soon.

Setting your phone down on the coffee table, you stood and glanced toward your bedroom. The thought of seeing Glen filled you with equal parts excitement and nerves. While you wanted to comfort him, you also wanted to make an impression, to make him proud to have you stand by his side - just in case anyone important saw you with him at the afterparty.

You walked into your closet, flipping on the light and staring at the dresses hanging neatly on the rack. For a moment, you hesitated, fingers trailing across the fabrics as you considered your options. 

Glen had spent the evening surrounded by Hollywood’s finest, women dressed in designer gowns that were probably worth more than your monthly rent. While you couldn’t compete with that, you wanted to feel confident.

One by one, you pulled dresses from their hangers, holding them up in front of the mirror. A black cocktail dress with a sweetheart neckline? Too plain. A sequined number you’d worn to a wedding last year? Too much sparkle. 

You sighed and kept flipping through your wardrobe until your fingers landed on the one: a sleek, champagne colored midi dress with a subtle sheen that hugged your curves and had an exposed back just enough to feel elegant but not overdone.

You held it up and smiled. This would work.

The dress hung on the back of the door as you moved to your vanity, sitting down in front of the mirror. You quickly pulled your hair out of the messy bun it had been in all evening, brushing it out until the strands fell in soft waves over your shoulders. A quick spritz of heat protectant later, you reached for your curling iron, adding a few polished curls to frame your face.

Once your hair was done, you leaned closer to the mirror to do your makeup. You didn’t want to overdo it, opting instead for a soft, natural look. A little concealer to brighten your under eyes, a sweep of blush for color, and your favorite mascara to make your lashes stand out. Finally, you dabbed on a neutral lipstick that complemented the green of your dress perfectly.

Sliding into the dress, you smoothed the fabric over your hips and stepped into a pair of classic black heels. You took a moment to look at yourself in the mirror, adjusting the neckline of the dress and tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Not bad,” you murmured to yourself with a small smile.

Grabbing a clutch that matched your heels, you slipped your phone, keys, and a tube of lipstick inside before heading back into the living room. 

You double-checked the address Cyndy had sent and tapped out a quick message. I’m on my way now. Thank you for helping me with this.

Her reply came quickly. Of course, sweetheart. Drive safe. Can’t wait to see you!

You smiled at her warmth, then grabbed your coat and headed for the door. The warm California air greeted you as you stepped outside, a sense of purpose settling over you as you climbed into your car. As you pulled onto the quiet streets of your neighborhood, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of anticipation and determination. Glen needed you tonight, and you were ready to remind him that, no matter what, he was never alone.

The valet opened your door with a polished smile, offering a courteous "Welcome, miss," as you stepped out onto the pavement. The warm glow of string lights twinkled above the entrance of the upscale Los Angeles venue, the faint hum of chatter and laughter drifting from the rooftop above. The building exuded an understated luxury, with sleek, modern architecture softened by lush greenery climbing its walls.

Clutching your purse tightly, you took a deep breath and stepped inside. The interior was as elegant as you imagined—soft lighting, marble accents, and tall glass windows that offered a breathtaking view of the Los Angeles skyline. The faint clinking of glasses and the melodic hum of a piano playing somewhere in the background added to the ambiance.

As you made your way to the elevator, you smoothed your hands over the fabric of your dress, trying to calm the nerves that fluttered in your stomach. You weren’t used to settings like this—where the air practically shimmered with glamour and the scent of expensive cologne and champagne filled every corner. But tonight wasn’t about you fitting in. Tonight was about Glen.

The elevator dinged softly, and the doors slid open to reveal the rooftop space. A wave of cool evening air greeted you as you stepped out, the view from up here absolutely stunning. The city lights stretched endlessly, a glittering sea of gold against the dark backdrop of the night sky.

But your attention quickly shifted to the crowd.

Clusters of people were scattered around the rooftop, their elegant attire shimmering under the soft glow of fairy lights and the flickering flames of heat lamps. Actors, actresses, directors, and producers mingled effortlessly, champagne flutes in hand and smiles that seemed almost rehearsed.

Your heart raced as you scanned the crowd, searching for Glen. The nerves you’d managed to suppress in the car started to creep back in, your stomach twisting as you imagined how he might react to seeing you. Would he be happy? Surprised? Would he think you’d overstepped by showing up unannounced?

Your heels clicked softly against the tiled floor as you weaved through the crowd, offering polite nods and tight smiles to the strangers you passed. Every time you thought you spotted him, it turned out to be someone else—a man with a similar build, or a suit that reminded you of Glen’s.

And then, you saw him.

He was standing near the edge of the rooftop, his back to you as he leaned casually against the railing. Even from a distance, you could tell something was off. His shoulders weren’t as relaxed as usual, his posture slightly stiff. He was talking to someone—an older man who looked like a producer—but his responses seemed polite and detached, his smile barely reaching his eyes.

Your heart clenched. This wasn’t the Glen you knew, the one who could charm a room with his laugh and light up any space he walked into. Tonight, he looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Swallowing your nerves, you adjusted the strap of your purse and started toward him. Each step felt like it took an eternity, the noise of the party fading into the background as your focus narrowed in on him.

You stopped a few feet away, hesitating for a brief moment as you tried to find the right words to say. But before you could speak, he turned, his gaze landing on you—and for a moment, the world seemed to pause.

Glen’s expression shifted from surprise to pure, unguarded joy in the blink of an eye. Without a second thought, he turned to the producer he’d been speaking to, murmuring a quick, “Excuse me,” before striding toward you, closing the distance between you in just a few long steps.

Your nerves barely had a chance to settle before Glen was there, standing right in front of you. His hands found your waist, and he pulled you into a tight embrace, one hand slipping up to cradle the back of your head while the other slipped around your waist. You could feel the tension in his body melt away as he buried his face in your hair, his shoulders relaxing for what seemed like the first time all evening.

“You’re here,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion and disbelief.

Before you could respond, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his green eyes scanning your face as if he needed to confirm that you were real. 

And then, as if he couldn’t stop himself, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was tender but unrestrained, a mix of relief, gratitude, and love that made your knees feel weak. The rest of the rooftop faded away—the noise, the people, the shimmering lights of Los Angeles below. For a brief moment, it was just the two of you.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he said softly, his hand still gently cradling the back of your head.

You smiled, your fingers brushing against the lapels of his suit jacket. “I had to be here for you.”

It wasn’t until you heard the faint sound of someone clearing their throat that you realized the two of you were still standing in the middle of a crowd. Glen blinked, his eyes flicking around as if he’d only just remembered where you both were.

A faint blush crept up his neck, but he didn’t seem embarrassed—if anything, he looked proud. He tightened his grip on your waist, pulling you closer to his side as he turned to the curious onlookers with a sheepish smile.

“Guess the secret’s out,” he said lightly, his tone warm but unapologetic.

As Glen pulled you closer to his side, the buzz of the rooftop returned, whispers and murmurs rippling through the crowd. You could feel curious eyes on you, but your focus stayed on Glen. His arm remained secure around your waist, a steady reassurance amid the growing attention.

Before anyone else could approach, you saw a familiar face in the crowd: Cyndy. Glen’s mom was beaming as she made her way over, her husband, Glen Sr., right behind her.

“There she is!” Cyndy exclaimed, her voice warm and welcoming as she pulled you into a quick hug. “I told you this would be just what he needed,” she added with a playful wink at Glen, who rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile.

“You knew about this?” he asked, a hint of mock betrayal in his tone.

“Of course,” Cyndy said with a grin. “She needed a little help getting here.”

Glen shook his head, his smile softening as he glanced down at you. “I should’ve known. You two are always teaming up on me.”

“It’s for your own good,” you teased, earning a chuckle from Glen Sr.

“Well, I think it’s wonderful she’s here,” Glen Sr. said, clapping his son on the shoulder before turning to you. “You look stunning, by the way. Good luck keeping this one under wraps now.”

Glen laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Yeah, I think that ship’s sailed.”

As his parents drifted back into the crowd, giving the two of you a moment, Glen leaned in, his voice low. “You ready to meet some of these people?”

You nodded, your nerves fluttering again. “Lead the way.”

Glen kept you close as he guided you through the rooftop, introducing you to directors, producers, and fellow actors. 

“This is my girlfriend,” he said each time before introducing you by name, the word girlfriend rolling off his tongue with ease and pride.

You exchanged polite smiles and handshakes, offering kind words to those you’d only seen on magazine covers or in movie credits. It was surreal, but Glen’s steady presence kept you grounded.

At one point, you found yourself standing in a small circle with a director Glen had worked with in the past. The conversation flowed easily, but you could feel Glen’s hand lightly rubbing your back, a subtle gesture that let you know he was still thinking about you.

“Glen’s mentioned you before,” the director said with a knowing smile. “He wasn’t kidding when he said you were incredible.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you glanced up at Glen, who looked entirely unbothered by the compliment. 

“She is,” he said simply, his gaze meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart skip.

The sounds of the party started to fade into the background as Glen guided you to a quieter corner of the rooftop, away from the buzz of laughter and clinking glasses. The cool evening air swept past, carrying with it the faint scent of jasmine from the planters lining the terrace.

You leaned against the glass railing, the glittering Los Angeles skyline sprawling behind you like a postcard. Glen stood close, his arm brushing yours, and for a moment, neither of you spoke, simply soaking in the stillness that contrasted with the lively atmosphere just feet away.

He turned to you, his expression softer now, the guarded mask he’d worn all evening completely gone. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice carrying an undercurrent of emotion.

You tilted your head, your brows knitting together. “For what?”

“For being here,” he said, his gaze locking onto yours. “For coming tonight, even though I know how much you hate this kind of scene. I didn’t realize how badly I needed you here.”

Your chest tightened at the vulnerability in his voice. Reaching up, you rested a hand against his cheek, your thumb brushing the faint stubble along his jawline. “You don’t have to thank me, Glen. I wanted to be here. I hated thinking about you going through all of this alone.”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a brief second. 

“It was a rough night,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I mean, I knew not winning was always a possibility, but...” He trailed off, exhaling deeply.

“But it still hurts,” you finished for him.

He nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Yeah. And trying to act like it doesn’t... it’s exhausting.”

You stepped closer, your hand sliding from his cheek to rest against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm. 

“You don’t have to act with me,” you said softly. “You’re allowed to feel however you need to feel. I’m here, okay? Whatever you need.”

His arms came around you then, pulling you into his chest. You melted into his embrace, your face pressed against the soft fabric of his jacket. He held you tightly, like you were his anchor in a storm.

“I feel better already,” he murmured against your hair, his voice laced with a hint of humor but mostly gratitude.

You smiled, tilting your head back to meet his eyes. “Good. You’ve accomplished so much, Glen. You’ve made me, your parents, everyone who knows you so proud.”

A small smile curved his lips, and he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You always know what to say,” he said, his voice filled with affection.

You shrugged, teasing him lightly. “I like to think of it as one of my many talents.”

His chuckle was soft, but genuine, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Well, it’s one I’m grateful for.”

The quiet moment lingered, the world around you dimming as you rested in Glen’s arms. His hands brushed lightly up and down your back, grounding you in his warmth. The skyline twinkled behind him, but all you could focus on was the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

After a while, Glen broke the silence, his voice low and soft. “Do you want to get out of here?”

You tilted your head up to look at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Are you sure? I mean, this is your night.”

He shook his head, a playful glint flickering in his tired eyes. “This party stopped feeling like mine a long time ago. I’d rather be somewhere alone with you.” He paused, his expression turning gentler. “Come stay at the hotel with me?”

Your heart fluttered at the quiet sincerity in his voice, and you nodded without hesitation. “Of course,” you said, your smile widening.

Relief washed over his face, and he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. It wasn’t rushed or heated, just a soft and unhurried moment, as though he wanted to savor every second of it. When he pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What for this time?” you asked, your smile turning playful.

“Just for being here for me,” he said simply, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

Your fingers intertwined with his, and you gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Always.”

Glen smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and he straightened up, pulling you a little closer as he turned toward the door. Without another word, he led you across the rooftop, weaving through clusters of partygoers with effortless ease.

The crowd parted as you passed, some people glancing your way with fleeting curiosity. You caught sight of Glen’s parents near the bar, and Cyndy offered you a subtle wink before turning her attention back to the person she was speaking with. You couldn’t help but smile.

Glen held your hand tightly as he guided you to the elevator, his thumb brushing small circles against your skin. Once inside, the doors closed with a quiet chime, and the noise of the party finally melted away.

He let out a quiet sigh, leaning back against the wall of the elevator, and pulled you into his side. “This is better,” he said, his tone light but filled with contentment.

You chuckled, resting your head against his shoulder. “I’ll take a quiet elevator ride with you over a crowded party any day.”

He laughed softly, his hand drifting up to play with a strand of your hair. “Good. Because tonight, it’s just you and me.”

The cool night air greeted you as you stepped outside, a welcome contrast to the warmth of the rooftop party. Glen stayed close by your side, his hand brushing against yours as you waited for the valet. You felt a flutter of anticipation in your chest, the promise of a quiet, uninterrupted night with him tugging at the edges of your thoughts.

When the valet pulled your car around, Glen stepped forward, handing over a tip and reaching for the keys. 

“I’ll drive,” he said with a grin, giving you a playful nudge.

You raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you insist on driving my car?”

“Just humor me tonight,” he said, flashing that perfect smile that made your heart skip.

You rolled your eyes with a soft laugh but handed over your keys without argument. Glen opened the passenger door for you, holding it until you were comfortably seated.

Your cheeks warmed at the gesture, and you offered him a soft smile as he closed the door and rounded the car to slide into the driver’s seat.

Once he was settled, Glen adjusted the mirrors and pulled away from the valet stand, expertly navigating the quiet streets of Los Angeles. His posture was relaxed, but his hand gripped the wheel with quiet confidence. The faint hum of the engine filled the silence, mingling with the soft music playing from the car speakers.

After a moment, Glen reached over, his fingers brushing against your knee before resting gently on your thigh. His touch was warm, grounding, and the weight of it sent a small shiver up your spine.

You glanced over at him, the soft glow of the streetlights illuminating his profile. His focus was on the road, but there was an unmistakable ease in his expression, as though the weight of the night was beginning to lift.

“You look beautiful tonight, by the way,” Glen said, his voice breaking the comfortable silence in the car. 

The compliment caught you slightly off guard, and you felt the warmth rush to your cheeks. 

“Thank you,” you said softly, placing your hand over his, trying to steady the sudden flutter in your chest.

His fingers tightened gently on your thigh, his thumb brushing slow, lazy circles against the fabric of your dress. The simple motion sent a shiver up your spine. 

“I mean it,” he added, his voice lower now, carrying a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. “Took my breath away when I first saw you tonight.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out at first. His gaze shifted briefly from the road to meet yours, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he caught the faint blush spreading across your cheeks.

“Glen,” you murmured, glancing down as your own smile crept in, embarrassed but undeniably warmed by his words.

“What?” he teased, his smirk growing. “Just being honest.”

For a while, neither of you spoke, content to simply be in each other’s presence. The city lights blurred outside the windows, and you found yourself memorizing the quiet details of the moment—the way his hand felt against your skin, the gentle hum of the car, the serene look on his face as he drove.

As he turned onto a quieter stretch of road, Glen glanced at you briefly, his smile soft and genuine. “I know I’ve said it already, but...thank you for being here tonight. You didn’t have to, but you did.”

You squeezed his hand. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

The car rolled to a stop in front of the upscale hotel, its glass façade glowing softly in the dim light of the early morning. Glen handed the keys to the valet with a quick thank-you before coming around to your side. He opened your door and offered his hand, helping you out with a small, knowing smile.

The lobby was quiet at this hour, save for the occasional murmur of staff or the faint sound of soft music drifting through the space. Glen’s hand found the small of your back as he guided you toward the elevator bank. You leaned into his touch, your earlier nerves melting away under the warmth of his steady presence.

Inside the elevator, the air felt electric, charged with unspoken anticipation. Glen pressed the button for his floor, then turned to you with a crooked grin. 

“Almost there,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate.

The soft ding of the elevator signaled your arrival, and the two of you stepped into the quiet hallway. Glen led you toward his room, pulling the keycard from his pocket. The lock beeped softly as he swiped it, and he pushed the door open, stepping aside to let you in first.

The suite was spacious and elegantly designed, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city lights. But you barely had time to take it in before Glen shut the door behind him, letting out a long breath as he slid his blazer off his shoulders and tossed it onto the back of a chair.

His eyes found yours, and without hesitation, he crossed the room to pull you into his arms. His embrace was firm yet tender, his hands settling on your waist as he held you close.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

You smiled, your arms looping around his neck. “What’s stopping you now?”

Glen chuckled softly, the sound low and warm, before closing the small distance between you. His lips met yours in a kiss that started out as gentle and unhurried, his touch familiar and comforting.

But then, something shifted. What began as a tender gesture grew more fervent, his hands sliding up your back with a quiet desperation. His fingers splayed against your skin as though he needed to feel you, to anchor himself.

You noticed the change immediately—the way his lips slowed, pressing against yours with an intensity that wasn’t just passion but something deeper. He lingered at the corner of your mouth, trailing soft kisses along your jaw and down the curve of your neck. His breath, once steady, hitched against your skin, and the muscles in his back tensed beneath your touch.

Your hands instinctively moved to soothe him, running up and down his back in gentle strokes, but you could feel the tension coiling tighter in his body with each passing second. Glen’s arms wrapped around you as though he were holding on for dear life, his forehead pressing into the crook of your neck.

“Babe?” you whispered, your voice barely audible above the faint hum of the city outside. “Glen?”

There was no response, only the unsteady rise and fall of his chest against yours. You frowned, shifting slightly to pull back, your hands moving to cradle his face as you searched for his eyes.

“Hey… are you okay?” you asked softly, concern threading through your voice.

For a moment, he didn’t answer. His eyes stayed shut, and his jaw clenched as if he were trying to hold something back. Then his breath hitched again, and he exhaled shakily.

“I thought…” His voice broke, barely above a whisper. “I thought tonight was going to be different.”

The weight of his words settled over you, heavy and unspoken. Your heart twisted at the quiet vulnerability in his tone.

“I thought I was going to be enough,” he murmured, finally lifting his head to meet your gaze.

Your hands stayed on his face, your thumbs brushing against the faint stubble on his jaw. “Glen,” you said softly, your heart aching for him. “You are enough. You’re more than enough.”

His brow furrowed, his eyes clouded with doubt. “Then why doesn’t it feel that way? I wanted it so badly, but it’s like… it’s like I’m stuck. Like I’ll never reach the level everyone expects of me.”

His voice cracked, and you felt his shoulders tremble beneath your hands. You held him tighter, your fingers slipping into his hair as you tried to soothe him.

“Listen to me,” you said firmly, tilting his face so he couldn’t look away. “You don’t need an award to prove anything to anyone. You’re already incredible, Glen. Directors, writers, everyone you’ve worked with—they see it. They know how talented you are. And so do I.”

His eyes searched yours, uncertain and raw. “You’re proud of me?”

You smiled softly, brushing a kiss to his forehead. “More than you’ll ever know. You’re at the top in my eyes, Glen. Award or no award.”

He let out a shaky breath, his forehead dropping to rest against yours. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with emotion. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His grip tightened around you, and you felt the last of his tension slowly melt away as he let your words wash over him. The quiet of the room wrapped around the two of you, and for a moment, there was nothing else—just the softness of his breath against your skin and the steady thrum of your hearts beating in sync.

Glen’s arms loosened around your waist, and he exhaled a long, shaky breath. His forehead brushed against yours one last time before he pulled back slightly, his hands lingering on your hips for just a moment. The vulnerability in his eyes was still raw, his walls lowered in a way that made your chest ache for him.

Without a word, Glen stepped away, his movements slow and deliberate. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers lingering there as though trying to ground himself. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated his face, casting shadows that only seemed to deepen the exhaustion etched into his features.

He made his way to the bed, his steps heavy, as if the weight of the night clung to him with every stride. Lowering himself onto the edge of the mattress, Glen sat with his back to you, his shoulders slumped, his head dropping forward. For a moment, he just sat there, silent and still, like he was carrying the weight of something too big to name.

You stood where he left you, watching him in quiet concern. Your heart ached at the sight of him—at the way he seemed to have shed every ounce of energy and emotion he’d held together so tightly throughout the night.

Without a word, you crawled up onto the bed behind him, your knees sinking gently into the soft covers. You moved behind him, your hands instinctively finding his shoulders, your fingers beginning to work away the tension that had settled there. 

At first, Glen didn’t move, his posture still stiff, his head slightly bowed, but he let you in, letting your hands ease the strain from his muscles.

After a few minutes of working the knots in his back, you softly spoke, “Glen... take your shirt off. Let me help you fully relax.”

He let out a quiet breath, his shoulders rolling in a slight motion of surrender. His fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, each one opening with a slow and deliberate motion, his body still tense under your touch. When the last button came free, he shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, the fabric slipping off his arms. You continued your gentle massage, your fingers now tracing the lines of his back, finding the tension in his muscles and working it away, piece by piece.

Glen let out a long, deep sigh as the stress of the evening began to melt away under your touch. He leaned into you, his body responding to your calming presence, and with a final, quiet release, he relaxed completely. His head tilted back, falling softly against your chest, the weight of his head resting there as you continued to soothe him with your touch.

You smiled down at him, feeling his breath steady and slow as you ran your hands up and down his back. The sound of his quiet breaths was a comforting rhythm in the room, the weight of his exhaustion now balancing with the calm you provided.

With his head resting against you, he looked up at you, his eyes soft, almost vulnerable. You smiled at him, your heart swelling as you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“You okay?” you whispered, your fingers still gently running through his hair, the touch tender and caring.

Glen closed his eyes, a small smile pulling at his lips. “I am now.” He let out a soft chuckle, and for a moment, the stress of the night seemed to dissipate entirely, replaced with the warmth and safety that surrounded the two of you.

You rested your chin on top of his head, continuing to hold him, your presence grounding him in a way nothing else could. The room felt peaceful now, as if time had slowed just for the two of you, and for a fleeting moment, everything was right.

You continued to gently rub his back, letting the soothing silence linger between you two for a while longer. Glen’s body was finally at ease, but you could sense he needed more—something to fully relax him after the rollercoaster of emotions he’d been through that night.

“You should go shower,” you suggested softly, your fingers still tracing light, comforting circles along his back. “It’ll help you feel better, relax a little more.”

Glen’s eyes fluttered open, and he hesitated for a moment, his gaze softening as he looked up at you. There was an unspoken question in his eyes—whether or not he was ready to let go of the emotions, the strain, the weight of the evening. 

“Will you join me?”

The question hung in the air, but it wasn’t a forceful demand—more of an invitation. He was searching for comfort, for something to take his mind off the self-doubt that still lingered beneath the surface. The tension was still there, just beneath the calm exterior.

You nodded without hesitation, your heart swelling with affection for him. “Of course.”

Glen stood slowly, pulling you with him as you both made your way to the bathroom. The lights were dimmed, casting a warm, inviting glow over the room. The sound of the shower running softly filled the air, and as he adjusted the water temperature, Glen turned back to you, his eyes still carrying that mix of weariness and something deeper—a need for connection.

His hands, warm and gentle, reached for the zipper of your dress. His fingers brushed your skin as he slowly unzipped it, the motion deliberate, almost reverent. He didn’t rush—each movement was careful, as though he was taking his time to savor this small, private moment. The dress slipped off your shoulders with his guidance, the fabric pooling at your feet.

A soft breath left his lips as he looked at you, his fingers trailing over your skin. You felt his presence like a warm embrace, his touch so tender that it sent a shiver down your spine.

"You’re so beautiful," Glen whispered, his voice low and full of admiration as his lips brushed the back of your neck. The kiss lingered there, a simple act that spoke volumes. He pulled back just slightly, his hands moving to unclasp your bra. As it slid down your arms, his lips found their way to your shoulder, placing gentle kisses along the curve of your skin.

"I love you," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin, sending a sense of calm and affection flooding through you. He was careful, slow, making sure you felt every touch, every kiss, his words filling the space between you as much as his touch did. "I love you so much," he repeated softly, as if needing you to feel the depth of his feelings.

With a gentle tug, he guided your underwear down, his fingers grazing your legs as the fabric pooled at your feet. He never once broke eye contact, his gaze full of reverence, his actions unhurried, as if savoring this quiet intimacy between you.

His hands slid up your back, holding you close for a moment, before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You turned toward him, your hands gently brushing his chest as you reached for his belt. The leather felt smooth under your fingertips, but as you tugged it through the loops, it caught slightly, the metal latch catching on the fabric of his pants. 

Glen raised an eyebrow and, with a smirk, he reached down to effortlessly pull it free, tossing it aside with a soft chuckle. You couldn't help but smile at the playful glint in his eyes, his confidence radiating through every small action. The serious, vulnerable side of him from earlier was still there, but seeing this side of him, the Glen who was comfortable, even mischievous, made your heart lighten. This was your Glen again—the one you had fallen in love with.

His smirk deepened as he caught your eye, and you felt that same familiar pull in your chest. Without hesitation, you popped open the button on his dress pants, the soft sound of the fabric giving way to the cool air in the room. With a quick motion, you shoved the pants down his legs, your eyes never leaving his.

As you moved to slide his underwear down as well, he stepped out of the fabric, leaving the two of you bare before one another. The feeling of the air on your skin, the way his body seemed to react to the same sensations, only deepened the connection between you.

Glen’s hand reached for yours, his fingers curling around yours as he gently pulled you toward him. With a final glance, he led you into the shower, the warm water cascading down as the door closed behind you.

The warm water from the showerhead cascaded over your bodies, the steam rising around you as Glen pulled you closer. He guided you back against his chest, your back now pressed against his solid form. The heat from his skin radiated into you, his arms wrapping securely around your waist, holding you close as the water continued to fall.

You leaned your head back against him, allowing the sensation of his embrace to ground you, and closed your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. It was moments like this, quiet and simple, that made everything else fade into the background. The chaos of the world, the stress of the night—it all seemed distant when you were wrapped up in the warmth of him.

His breath, steady and warm against your ear, sent a shiver down your spine. His lips brushed your cheek, soft and slow, before trailing along your jawline. The gentle caress of his kisses made you feel cherished, like the world had slowed just for the two of you.

As his lips moved to your neck, you couldn’t suppress the soft sigh that escaped your lips. His kisses were light at first, like he was savoring every inch of your skin. Then, his hands slid to your sides, pulling you closer as he pressed a soft kiss to the pulse point on your neck.

You turned slightly, your face now angled toward his, and you could see the tenderness in his eyes—the way he looked at you as though you were everything he needed. His hands moved up to gently cradle your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek, before leaning down to kiss you softly on the lips.

As the steam continued to swirl around the two of you, Glen reached for the bottle of shampoo, his movements slow and deliberate as he squeezed some into his palm. He worked it into his hands before gently lifting them to your hair, his fingers massaging the lather through your strands.

The soft pressure of his hands on your scalp felt soothing, almost like a tender promise. The moment was so serene, so simple, but it filled the space between you with an intimacy that went beyond the physical.

You leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment as the lather built up, your hair sliding through his hands like silk. A soft smile played on your lips as you couldn't help but tease lightly, “You know, I was supposed to be helping you relax, not the other way around.”

Glen paused for a moment, his hands stilling in your hair. When he spoke, his voice was low and steady, a quiet affection in his words. 

“Taking care of you helps me relax,” he murmured, his fingers resuming their gentle motion through your hair. “When I’m with you, everything else fades.  All the noise, the pressure… it just disappears.”

You turned your head slightly to look up at him, catching his gaze. The tenderness in his eyes made your heart swell, and you couldn’t help but smile, feeling that quiet joy that only came from knowing you were so deeply cared for.

You and Glen took turns lathering soap and washing each other off. His hands slid over your skin with a gentle care and you mirrored the gestore for him, tenderly tracing over his toned and muscly form.

When the last traces of soap had been rinsed away, Glen’s hands moved from your shoulders, gliding slowly down your sides before they settled at your waist. 

Then, without a word, he leaned in. His lips brushed yours lightly at first, the softness of the kiss almost a question, a gentle exploration. But as his lips coaxed yours open, something shifted, deepened. The kiss became more urgent, more consuming, and you couldn’t help but respond in kind, meeting his intensity with your own.

His hands roamed lower, tracing the curve of your body as his tongue slid into your mouth, eager and searching. A soft gasp escaped you as you felt the warmth of his touch slide over your skin, igniting a familiar fire within. Your hands found their way to his neck, fingers tangling in his wet hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened further.

The sensation of being pressed against the cool wall of the shower was sudden but welcome, sending a shiver down your spine as the contrast of cold tile and Glen’s warmth consumed your senses. His hands found your hips, steady and deliberate, before sliding down to hook beneath your thighs. In one smooth, effortless motion, he lifted you, his strength leaving you breathless as your legs wrapped instinctively around his waist.

His arm cradled your face, the other anchoring you securely against him. You felt completely surrounded by him—his body, his heat, the faint smell of his cologne lingering despite the water. His lips were back on yours in an instant, claiming you with a passion that left no room for hesitation.

As the water streamed over both of you, his lips broke from yours, trailing a line of kisses along your jaw. You tilted your head instinctively, giving him access to your neck, where his kisses grew deeper, more purposeful. Each press of his lips sent waves of warmth through you, his stubble brushing lightly against your skin. When he reached the spot just below your ear, you couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped you, and Glen’s lips curved into a smirk against your skin.

“God, I love you,” he murmured between kisses, his voice low and rough, making your stomach tighten with need. 

His lips traveled lower, brushing over your collarbone before returning to your mouth as if he couldn’t bear to be away from you for too long. Your hands found their way into his hair, threading through the damp strands and tugging just enough to elicit a low groan from him. The sound sent a thrill through you, and you felt him press you more firmly against the wall, as though he needed you closer, as though he couldn’t get enough of you.

His kisses moved lower, trailing along your shoulder as he adjusted his grip, one hand sliding up your back, the other tracing the curve of your thigh. The heat of the water cascaded over both of you, blending with the heat building between your bodies. 

The way Glen looked at you—his gaze dark and intense, yet filled with so much affection—left you completely undone. He paused, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your lips.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, yet the weight of his words hit you like a tidal wave.

Your only answer was to pull him closer, your lips finding his once more as your hands roamed over his shoulders and down his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your touch. Glen responded immediately, his hold on you tightening, his kisses growing deeper and more fervent, as if he were pouring every unspoken word into them.

Glen shifted slightly, his hips pressing firmly against yours, pinning you against the cold tile wall, and a soft whimper escaped your lips.

Glen froze for half a second, his eyes locking onto yours, and then his lips curved into a grin that was equal parts mischievous and adoring.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing as his lips found yours again, this time slower, more deliberate. He wasn’t in a rush; he wanted to savor every second, every little sound you made, and the way your body responded to his touch.

His kisses trailed down the curve of your neck, lingering in spots he knew would make your breath hitch. You felt his fingers tighten slightly on your thigh, his touch grounding you while simultaneously setting you aflame.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he whispered against your skin, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. The way his words, his tone, his body all combined left you dizzy in the best way.

Your hands slid over his shoulders, down his chest, your fingertips tracing the firm lines of muscle as if committing them to memory. You could feel the tension melting out of him under your touch, replaced by something far more intoxicating.

“You have no idea how much I needed this—how much I needed you,” he admitted, his tone softening just slightly, adding a layer of vulnerability to his intensity. He leaned his forehead against yours, his lips brushing yours in a feather-light kiss.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, your voice steady as your fingers slid into his hair, pulling him closer. Glen closed his eyes for a moment, as if grounding himself in your words, in you.

When his lips met yours again, it was slower, deeper, his movements more purposeful. Every touch, every press of his body against yours, felt like a reminder of the connection you shared, of how deeply he trusted and cared for you.

The moment he began to press into you, your breath hitched, and your nails gently dug into his shoulders. The slow, deliberate stretch was almost overwhelming, a sensation so powerful that it sent shivers through your entire body. Glen let out a deep, unrestrained groan that rumbled from his chest, vibrating against yours.

“God,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, his head dipping to rest in the curve of your neck. “You feel... incredible.”

Your body adjusted to him, every inch of him fitting perfectly, as though you were made for this—made for each other. The moment you were fully joined, the air between you shifted, charged with something deeper, something more profound than physical attraction.

You let out a shaky exhale, your hands threading into his damp hair, holding him close. “Glen…” His name was barely a whisper, but it carried so much—desire, love, reassurance.

He lifted his head slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. His eyes, deep and intense, were filled with something raw and vulnerable, a mix of need and devotion. “S-shit sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly.

You cupped his face, your thumbs brushing against the sharp lines of his jaw. He began to move then, slow and deliberate, as though he wanted to memorize every sensation, every reaction. Each roll of his hips sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, but it was more than that—it was connection, intimacy, the kind of closeness that words could never fully capture.

The two of you moved together in perfect sync, the rhythm as natural as breathing. His lips found yours again, desperate and hungry, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Your bodies were slick from the water, your skin sliding against his in a way that only heightened the intensity of the moment.

The rhythm of Glen’s movements grew more intense, the slow, deliberate pace giving way to something deeper, more desperate, as the fire building inside you threatened to consume you completely. Your breaths came faster, mingling with his in the humid air of the shower, each gasp and groan echoing off the tiled walls.

Your hands clung to his shoulders, your nails pressing lightly into his skin as the pleasure coiled tighter in your core. You could feel the tension mounting, like a wave rising higher and higher, ready to crash over you. 

“Glen,” you gasped, your voice shaky, filled with need.

He groaned in response, his grip on you tightening as his forehead rested against yours. 

“I know,” he murmured, his voice rough and unsteady. His eyes locked onto yours, a mix of passion and adoration blazing within them. “I’m right there with you.”

Your head fell back against the tile, a soft cry escaping your lips as the tension snapped and the wave of ecstasy washed over you. Your body trembled against his as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure, your hands slipping into his hair, holding him close.

The sound of your release seemed to push Glen over the edge. With a low, guttural groan, he buried his face in your neck, his movements faltering as his own climax overtook him. His body tensed, his arms tightening around you as if anchoring himself in the moment.

For a few moments, the only sounds were your ragged breaths and the steady stream of water cascading over you both. Glen’s forehead rested against your shoulder, his chest heaving against yours as he tried to catch his breath.

You ran your fingers through his damp hair, your touch gentle and soothing as the tension in both of your bodies began to melt away. “Are you okay?” you whispered softly, your voice laced with tenderness.

He nodded against your shoulder, his arms still wrapped around you. “More than okay,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin in a lazy kiss. 

He lifted his head slightly, his eyes finding yours, and for a moment, there was nothing but quiet affection between you. He reached up, brushing a strand of wet hair away from your face, his touch lingering. “You make everything better,” he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity.

You leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “And you make everything better for me,” you whispered against his mouth.

As the water continued to flow over you, Glen shifted, his hold on you gentle as he helped steady you back onto your feet. He kept his arms around you, though, as if reluctant to let you go. 

“Stay like this a little longer?” he asked quietly, his voice barely audible over the sound of the water.

You nodded, leaning into him, your head resting against his chest. The two of you stood there, wrapped in each other, the water washing away everything except the quiet, unspoken connection between you.

Minutes later the warm water slowed to a trickle as you and Glen stood together under its embrace, reluctant to part from the cocoon of closeness you’d shared. But the chill of the air creeping into the shower reminded you both that it was time to leave.

You reached for a towel, wrapping it snugly around yourself before handing another to Glen. He took it with a small smile, his fingers brushing yours briefly. He quickly dried off, his movements unhurried, as if savoring the quiet moment.

As you toweled your hair, you couldn’t help but notice Glen watching you. His gaze was soft, his features relaxed in a way that made your heart swell.

“What?” you asked with a light laugh, arching a brow at him.

He just shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Nothing. Just… you.”

Your cheeks warmed, but you didn’t press him further. Instead, you turned toward his open bag near the bed, slipping on one of his oversized T-shirts and a pair of his boxers since you didn’t have any clothes of your own to sleep in. The fabric smelled faintly of him, comforting and familiar.

Glen was already pulling on a pair of boxers, his toned frame catching the soft glow of the bedside lamp as he moved toward the bed. He crawled onto the mattress with an easy grace, sinking into the covers with a contented sigh.

You finished adjusting the hem of the shirt before turning to find Glen propped up on one elbow, his eyes locked on you. He patted the empty space beside him, then crooked a finger, his voice low and inviting. “Come here.”

You didn’t hesitate, crossing the room and crawling onto the bed beside him. Glen shifted, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you flush against him. The warmth of his body seeped into yours as he nuzzled into your neck, his lips brushing softly against your skin.

For a while, neither of you spoke, the quiet intimacy of the moment saying more than words could. But when Glen shifted again, his gaze meeting yours, the sincerity in his expression made your breath catch.

“You’re the best thing I’ve ever won,” he said, a playful smirk lifting the corner of his mouth.

You let out a soft laugh, swatting at his chest. “I didn’t realize I was a prize to be won.”

He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “You are. The best one.” His voice softened as he continued, the teasing fading into quiet gratitude. “Thank you for being here tonight… for always being here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Your chest ached with love for him, and you reached up, gently cradling his face in your hand. “You don’t have to do it alone, Glen. Whatever it is—disappointments, stress, doubts—I’m here. Always. You don’t have to carry it by yourself.”

His eyes softened, and he gave a small nod before resting his head against your chest. You began threading your fingers through his hair, the soft strands slipping between them as you combed through gently. Glen let out a deep sigh, his body completely relaxing against yours.

The quiet rhythm of his breathing matched the rise and fall of your chest, and as the tension melted from him, you couldn’t help but reflect on how much you loved being this for him—his safe space, the one person he could let his guard down with.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice soft but filled with every ounce of your heart.

His arms tightened around your waist, and he turned his head just enough to press a soft kiss to the side of your ribs. “I love you too,” he murmured against your skin, the words warm and heavy with truth.

And as the night stretched on, you stayed like that—entwined, at peace, and content in the knowledge that no matter what came next, you had each other.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Outside the Lines 6

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsessive compulsive behaviour, kidnapping, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader has her routine and her fellow patient gets in the way of those.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, (lumberjack AU)

Note: I am tryn rotate through fics and such. Thanks for all your patience.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You put away the last of the dishes. The smell of bacon hangs in the air as your stomach mulches the few bites you managed to swallow. You're trying but it's very hard to get used to it all. Dr. Makira always says change is difficult. 

Everything is just new and strange and confusing to you. Not just the walls you don't know but the men within them. You know that Steve is a hero and Bucky too, but you really don't know them. 

"Hey, sweetheart," Steve startles you as he enters behind you. "Looks good in here. Good job cleaning up." 

"Yes, sir, er, Captain," you correct yourself as you face him, looking down to keep between the borders. 

"Bucky just went to go get that label maker so it'll be just me and you for a bit," he nears the island and leans his elbows on it. Even as he curls his shoulders forward, he seems inconquerably large. "Do you want to do something fun?" 

"Fun? Oh, do you have books... Captain?" You tug on your ear three times and mouth the last word again. 

"Um, maybe later I'll dig some out. I was thinking we could play a game." 

"Play a game? Like, er, go fish?" You ask. 

"Yeah, how about... battleship?" 

"Battleship? I've never played that." 

"No? I thought it was really popular," he says. "Guess we can learn together." 

"Okay, I can do that, but uh... Captain? Don't I have other chores? Laundry?" You wonder. 

"Later," he assures you as he comes around the counter. He offers his hand. "You earned some fun." 

"Yes, Captain. I'm trying real hard, don't you know?" 

"I know it, sweetheart. I see it." He takes your hand and tugs you across the tile. You teeter and squeal as you arch your feet and walk on your toes to keep from crossing the lines. 

He brings you into the front room and points to the couch. You dutifully go ahead and sit in the middle. He goes to the standing cabinet at the wall and opens the doors. He takes out a box and nears. He sits beside you, close enough to touch you. 

He lifts the lid off and reveals a cluster of small pegs; red and white. They're all mixed up. It makes you feel itchy. You reach and take a handful and start dividing them by colour. He doesn't stop you. 

Instead, he takes out the boards and opens them like cases. There are grids marked with numbers and letters. 

"Alright, so, we can't look at each others' boards," he grabs the instruction booklet and scatters the pegs. You continue to sort through them. "Sweetheart, are you listening?" 

"Oh, yes, uh..." you keep your handful of pegs and pluck up a cushion, "I'll sit on the floor." 

"You don't have to, we can move the chair." 

"It's okay," you hurried circle the table and drop the cushion. You sit on your legs and keep sorting the pegs. You don't like that there mixed up. 

"So, you put your ships on the board wherever you want. I do the same thing. And then we guess where the other put theirs," he explains. "The red, you use to mark hits on your ships and the white, you mark up on this," he points to the verticle board, "your hits and misses too. The white are misses." 

"Hm, okay," you say as you keep the red and white pegs from rolling into each other. 

"Here are your ships," he takes out a handful of the little plastic boats. 

"Thank you, Captain." 

"Good girl," he praises again and you look up at him over your board. 

"Am I good?" 

"Of course," he smiles. 

You take the boats and line them up by size; smallest to biggest across the top row. That's nice and tidy. Steve takes longer to finish his. 

He looks up with a pinch between his brows, "you ready?" 

You nod. 

"You first," he says. 

"Me? What do I do?" 

"Guess. So you can look at your board and guess where you think I put my ships. So like... E4, and if you hit, I'll tell you. You can put red if you do. If you hit every spot on a ship, then you sunk my battleship." 

"Oh, right, right," you say. "Um, er..." you look on the board. "G2?" 

He glances down, "miss." 

You take a white peg and mark the space. He hums before he makes a guess. 

"I9," he says. 

"Miss," you chime then check the board, "hmmm, C4." 

"Nope," he puts a peg in where he missed. The board looks tiny in his large hands. "B2?" 

You shift and check the board, "hit." You pout and takes a red peg. "A8?" 

"Miss," he replies. You mark it. 

"B3?" He says. 

"Hit. Erm, D2?" 

"Miss. What about... B1?" 

You blink. All your ships are together. Oops. 

"Hit." 

Your next guess is a miss too. Then he hits. He sinks the smallest ship with A1. 

"Oh, I lost a boat," you say. 

"It's not over until you lose them all," he says. "How about we add some extra fun?" 

"Um, what?" You ask. 

"We could make it more interested. How about, each time we sink a ship, we... give the other person a kiss." 

You squeak, "what?" 

"Yeah, it'll be nice," he goads. 

"But... but..." you chew your lip as he stares at your mouth. 

"Just a peck, sweetheart," he purrs. 

"Mmm, but, mmm, I don't know." 

"Come on," he pleads. "It's just a kiss." 

"I... I..." you stare at him. It must be a part of the plan. You're not very good at being close to others. Touching is tough but you've been working to move past those things. "Okay." 

"So... I sunk your ship," he taunts with a playful tilt of his head. 

"Um, right," you push yourself up with the table. You reluctantly traipse around and wring your hands together.  

He offers his cheek and taps it. You bend and hover just before it. You quickly peck, his beard tickling you, then retreat, ducking to hide behind the board. 

"Oh, your lips are soft," he says. 

"Thank you, Captain," your voice comes out in a whisper. 

"Your go," he prompts. 

"Oh, uh... E9." 

"Hit," he says. 

"Oh!" you grab a red peg. 

"Good job," he returns and gives a thoughtful hum. "Mmmm, C3?" 

You mutter, "hit." 

"Alright," he comments with a hint of surprise. He probably didn't expect so many together. Did he figure it out? 

"E10?" 

"Miss. B3?" 

You groan. He knows! You could move it. No, you wouldn't be able to do it without moving the whole board. 

"You sunk another," you utter. 

"Ooh, other cheek?" He wonders hopefully. 

Your face is on fire. You stand up and go around the other side of the table. You stare at his flannel shirt. You can't bare to look him in the eye. You bend and plant another kiss, one he leans into until your lips smush on his cheek. 

You recoil and once more resume your place on the cushion. He purrs again. 

"You're go," he urges. 

You guess randomly. You forget to check where you hit. It's another miss. You don't even want to sink his ships. The kissing is too much. 

Several back and forths and a third ship goes down. You feel like crying. You didn't really think about the rules before you put the ships on the board. You're so stupid. 

"Come here," Steve cooes. 

You get up, slouching shyly as you approach. You bend to kiss his cheek but he surprises you as he turns and you meet his lips instead. His hand catches the back of your head before you can react. 

He smothers you, locking you in place, and you push on his chest. You whine as his tongue slides over your lips. You don't like that. 

He lets you go and you stumble back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

"What's wrong?" He asks. 

"Captain, I... I'm not used to it. I never... I'm sorry," you stop and sway on the other side of the table. 

"Ah, sweetheart, of course, it's alright. The more you do it, the better it'll be." He coaxes. 

"Oh, okay," you get back to your knees. "F9?" 

"Shoot! You hit. Sink." 

"Huh?" You flinch at the last word, "really?" 

"Got the small one," he says as he gets up. "My turn to pay my dues." 

"Oh, that's... that's-- You don't have to." 

"Fair is fair," he reaches for you, latching onto your upper arm to force you up.  

You stand knowing that resistance is not an option. Not only is he stronger, but you want to be good. You want to get better. That's all you've ever wanted.  

He guides you to face him and you tremble. It's much more intimidating like this. He cups your chin as he gazes down at you. You gulp. 

He bends and your body goes rigid. He tilts your head and presses his mouth to yours. The tip of his tongue flicks along the crease of your lips but he doesn't persist. He parts with a pleased drone. 

"See, we both win," he says. 

You pull away and sit. Your scalp is on fire. You don't know how much more you can handle. Dr. Makira always said change shouldn't come all at once. 

He clears his throat and sits again. He grins over his board before he refocuses. He rubs his chin as his thinks. His blue irises glimmer. 

"D1." 

Yep. You figured. 

"Hit." 

It isn't difficult for him to go down the ship. Hit. Hit. Hit. 

He wins again. 

"Steve-- Captain," you say as fidget. "I don't think-- I can't." 

"Aw, sweetheart, you already did it. You're so good." 

"But... er, I'm... I don't know." 

"Here," he waves you up and shifts over on the couch.  

You flick your lashes and stand. You go to him as he extends his arms. He puts his hands on your hips and draws you between his knees. 

"I just think you need to slow down. You're not taking your time," he says.  "So, just go at your own pace," he brings his hands up to frame your face, pushing your hair back, rubbing your cheekbones with his thumbs. "Alright, I'm yours, sweetheart." 

He closes his eyes and puckers expectantly. You stare back. He's being nice, you think. He's not angry. He hasn't hurt you. You'd like to keep it that way. 

You gather your courage and lean in. You put your hands on his shoulders and close your eyes just before your lips meet. His beard tickles you again as his hands stretch around your head. 

He holds his lips to yours and gently opens his mouth. He pokes with his tongue and you twitch. He keeps you in place. You surrender to his diligent effort and let him in. 

He tilts his head as he invades your mouth. You garble around him and clutch the seam of his shirt. You feel his muscles beneath. He's stronger than you, remember that. 

When he finally pulls away, you're woozy. He lets his hand fall down your neck and he feels along the top of your dress. As his speaks, his voice scrapes in his throat. 

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" He asks. 

[pandapetals]

Hii, sorry, I don’t know if you take requests but I really like your writing, I was wondering if you could write a fem mute!reader x Logan Howlett. It’s okay if not xx 💗

Hi! Thank you for the request. I hope this did your request justice. I mixed in some sign language because I thought it would be cute for Logan to learn it.

logan howlett x fem!mute reader - drabble, fluff, logan learns sign language, no y/n used, no reader description

Logan had never been a patient man. Patience wasn’t in his DNA—not in the way his fists always itched to settle problems or how his temper burned too hot, too fast. But somehow, when it came to you, patience came easier. Almost natural. He didn’t know how or why and he didn’t question it.

You didn’t speak, at least not with words. Your hands, your eyes, even the way you carried yourself—that was how you communicated. You didn’t need a voice to fill a room with your presence. It had taken Logan a while to figure that out and learn how to listen to what you did rather than say.

Eventually, he had a soft spot for you. One that he guarded just as fiercely as you guarded yourself.

He leaned back against the couch, his arm sprawled along the top as the movie played on the screen in front of you. The glow from the TV flickered across your face, highlighting how your lips twitched into a subtle smile at the cheesy one-liners. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make Logan’s chest feel warm in a way he didn’t often let himself feel. He didn’t even like this movie—it was some sappy rom-com the kids kept recommending—but you seemed to enjoy it, and that made it bearable.

You sat cross-legged beside him, hugging a pillow to your chest, completely focused on the screen. Every so often, your expression would shift—your brows would furrow when the characters argued, or your nose would scrunch when something particularly ridiculous happened. You didn’t need words to show exactly what you thought of the movie. Hell, you were more expressive than half the people he’d ever met.

“You really like this stuff, huh?” Logan asked, his gruff voice breaking the quiet. He didn’t expect an answer—you never gave him one—but he asked anyway maybe because he liked how your head would tilt slightly or how your lips would quirk in response.

This time, you turned to him and smiled softly, raising your hands to sign, It’s fun.

Logan smirked, his lips twitching upward as he pretended to focus back on the movie. But his heart kicked up a beat, the way it always did when you signed something to him. There was something about the fluidity of your movements, the way your hands told stories, that never failed to catch his attention.

You didn’t know it, but for months now, Logan had been trying to learn. Slowly, in secret, whenever he had the time—or the patience—to sit still long enough for one of the kids to teach him. If he was being honest, he was terrible at it. His hands were too big, his fingers too clumsy, and the subtleties of signing didn’t come naturally to him. But he stuck with it because it was for you.

And tonight, after months of work, he was finally ready to show you.

The movie shifted to a quieter scene, and Logan waited for the perfect moment. His palms felt weirdly clammy—he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been nervous about something so small. But this mattered. You mattered.

When the timing felt right, he cleared his throat. You looked up at him, your brow furrowing slightly with curiosity.

Logan turned toward you, his eyes meeting yours, and slowly—awkwardly—he raised his hands and signed, You are important to me.

The movements weren’t perfect. His fingers stumbled over the shapes, and his pace was slower than it should’ve been. But it was clear enough, and the second you understood, your eyes widened. Your mouth fell open slightly, as if you wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words—or, well, didn’t need them.

You just stared at him, blinking rapidly like you weren’t sure you’d seen what you thought you had. Then, slowly, your expression softened. A smile broke across your face, wide and bright, and for the first time since he’d met you, Logan thought he saw tears welling in your eyes.

He shifted uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck. “What?” he grunted, his voice a little gruffer than usual. “Did I mess it up?”

You shook your head quickly, your smile only growing wider. Without hesitation, you reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently before signing back, You learned that… for me?

Logan shrugged like it was no big deal, but his ears burned hot. “Yeah, well. Figured I’d make things a little easier. You’re not so easy to read all the time, y’know.”

That earned him a laugh—silent, but unmistakably a laugh. How your shoulders shook and your eyes crinkled at the corners sending a strange, unfamiliar warmth flooding through him. And damn it, if he didn’t feel ridiculously proud of himself in that moment.

Thank you, you signed, your movements slow and deliberate so he could follow. It means a lot.

Logan glanced away, rubbing at the back of his neck again. “Yeah, well,” he muttered, “don’t go gettin’ all sentimental on me, darlin’.”

When he looked back at you, the way you were beaming at him made his chest ache in the best possible way. He grunted and shook his head, reaching for the remote. “C’mon, let’s finish this dumb movie. I didn’t sit through an hour of this just to miss the end.”

You nodded, smiling as you settled back into your seat, hugging your pillow tighter. Logan hit play, and the movie resumed, but he barely noticed the screen. His attention kept drifting back to you—your quiet happiness, the way your shoulders stayed relaxed, the soft glow of the TV reflecting in your eyes.

For once, Logan thought, patience wasn’t so bad.

[peterm4rker]

from the rooftops || m.l

twenty four. mark fucking lee

🕸🕷✮⋆˙ wc. 0.7k w. curse words ! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

sometimes in life things just click.

like when you hear a part of a gossip you were missing and everything suddenly makes sense, or when you remember the name of something hours after thinking about it.

or when you hear spiderman answer your question in a way that no one but mark lee would.

it was november 13th, the day was beautiful with clear and sunny skies. kids ran around the park and laughter filled the air. everything was absolutely perfect.

you had everything ready to take action on your little detective plan as you both sat on your usual spot on the ground of the park, where was telling you one of his many stories for the new article. you noticed the stiffness of his body almost immediately after he got there, when he greeted you with the most awkward handshake you had ever been a part of. he completely lacked his usual relaxed and fun demeanor, and it was making your job harder and easier at the same time. maybe he was trying hard to hide who he was now that he knew he had fumbled a couple days prior, or maybe he had just woken up in a bad mood. whatever it was, it would end up playing an enormous part on the pieces of the puzzle moving slowly into place, preparing a picture of a face you had grown to know a little too well. 

you did everything you could to make him feel more comfortable so he could let himself go, just so he could give you something, anything that would help you finally figure out what you so desperately wanted to know.

it wasn’t that you wanted to know for any evil reasons like you were sure that many did, but you needed to know if the boy you were madly in love with was putting his life in danger every single day.

you asked questions and said funny comments, looking to elicit some type of reaction from him. slowly, he let his walls down as he always ended up doing around you. his hands began to move around as he articulated his words, his voice got more excited and giggles started to allow themselves to escape out of his lips.

and then it happened, the moment where everything clicked.

“and after that i went to go get ice cream to the parlor close to the river” he commented as he ended his story, letting out a small chuckle.

“ouh, fire?” you asked, without even realizing that you had just set yourself up for success.

“flames” he answered casually, almost out of instinct, causing your eyes to widen slightly.

no.

fucking.

way.

“i’m glad, i’ll have to go get some there. i’ve never had it.” you said quickly, trying your hardest to hide the emotion in your voice.

“it’s so good, also pretty cheap, but they give it to me for free because i once stopped a guy from setting the store on fire” he commented with a small laugh, and you felt utterly stupid.

how had you not realized after all this time? how could you not hear the voice that clouded your dreams behind that (now very obvious) voice changer? how had you not noticed that his laugh was way too beautiful to belong to anyone but mark? how had you not connected the dots earlier? every time he said one of the silly things he could come up with, every time he made the hand gestures you had seen him do so many times without the mask on. every time that he had made your heart flutter like only one person had ever done.

mark fucking lee.

“you okay there, yn?” the too robotic sounding voice asked as the man in front of you, mark, tilted his head in curiosity.

“yeah, sorry, i zoned out” you chuckled “but go on, i’m paying attention now” you urged. you had never thanked your mother so much for making you take those drama classes when you were younger more than in that moment.

“don’t worry, i was just saying that the chocolate ice cream there is bomb…” he continued talking, immersed in his own world to notice the way your lips quivered upwards as you watched him.

click.

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© peterm4rker, 2024

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Hello!! I want to request a headcanon for Bonten Mikey, Ran, Sanzu and Takeomi having an arranged marriage with a girl that is a real sweetheart, that always wants to help and really wants the marriage to go well! Thank u so much in advance for answering and reading my request <3

Very different reactions between them but here they are!

Mikey-

He's completely indifferent to you at first, it's hard to tell exactly what he thinks of you or this marriage. 

Barely looks at you or talks to you unless it's simple things. You actually end up talking more to his no3, Kakucho. Who does his best to apologise for Mikey's absence and comfort you that Mikey really isn't that bad of a guy, you just need to be patient with him. 

As time passes, Mikey grows used to your presence, even finding comfort in it. You're so normal compared to the rest of his life and so eager to help him.

Seeks you out as soon as he comes home from work each day, seeing you is the best part of his day, the one thing he has to look forward to in his life anymore. 

Get's affectionate with you at random times, he especially likes to sleep cuddled up with you, he finds it a little easier to sleep when you're next to him. 

He wasn't really against this marriage in the beginning, he just didn't care what happened at all. But he finds himself actually happy for the way things have turned out. Sometimes he wonders if it's ok for him to have this happiness but he can't give you up now, he's addicted to the way you make him feel, to the love he feels for you. 

Ran-

Finds himself amused at the idea of having a wife, like he could settle down and live a quiet life, the whole thing makes him laugh. He's even more amused when he meets you, such a sweetheart like you with someone like him? He's going to ruin you. 

Teases you a lot and tends to ask a lot of questions (especially nsfw ones), he especially enjoys seeing your reactions to things a lot. Views you as nothing more then a fun new thing to play with at first. 

Makes things clear with you from the start, this marriage is arranged so he feels no love for you. He's still going to go out to clubs and do everything he used to do, you're welcome to do the same if you want, as long as you keep it discreet. But there's something about the way you just nod when tells you that makes him uneasy. 

There wasn't much point in him telling you all that anyway, the second he walks back into a club all he can do is compare all the girls to you. He doesn't want any of them, instead he finds that you're the one on his mind, the one he's fantasising about. Rindou looks at him strangely when Ran tells him he's just going to head home instead, that he isn't in the mood for this tonight. 

Of course you notice when Ran comes straight home after work every evening and stays there. Anytime you ask he just brushes it aside, saying that he's tired or just wasn't in the mood. The truth is he just wants to hang out with you. He knows he's fallen in love, maybe having a wife was for him after all. 

Occasionally he takes you out with him to the various clubs bonten owns, always with an arm around you and a protective glare at any guy who looks your way. After all, he's still Ran and he still loves these places, but now he has someone he can enjoy them with even more. 

Sanzu-

Hates you before he even meets you, just the thought of you makes him scowl. This isn't part of his job, his job is to be Mikey's right hand not to be some random woman's husband. Why couldn't anyone else in bonten have you instead, why him?

He's just as furious the first time he meets you, as well as when the two of you move in together too. He won't look properly at you and tells you to stay away from him, along with a bunch of other rules for living in his house. You're just someone living here to him, no one but Mikey matters anyway. 

He's surprised by how diligent you are with following his rules. And not only that but you seem to be putting a lot of effort into making this comfortable for him, even following his cleaning routine perfectly despite him not asking or expecting you to. It's enough to make him soften a bit towards you, even if it's only a little. 

Joins you for dinner one evening and finds himself actually liking your presence. He feels relaxed around you, which is unusual for him. That one dinner, quickly turns into an evening routine for the two of you. 

Little by little he opens up to you and spends more time with you, completely lifting the rules he first set in place. He isn't entirely sure if this is love or even how he'd define that in the first place but he thinks he might feel it for you. 

It's a dark thought but he hopes you never go against bonten, he doesn't want to have to do anything to you. He just wants to stay like this, living with you forever. 

Takeomi- 

Was pretty unsure when he first heard about this arranged marriage idea. Why would he want a wife? Just look at what happened to his parents, he never wants to be in same position his father was left in. 

Is the most reasonable towards you though, engages with you and let's you do what you like. Even if he doesn't love you, he's not going to make your life miserable. 

He's hiding things from you though, he has this persona he puts on for you. Tries to impress you with extravagant things and expensive jewellery and clothes. Acts like he's a very big deal too, it's like he's trying to win your love/ admiration with material things. 

Eventually you reassure him that be can be himself around you, he can be more vulnerable and more honest. This is the first time anyone has ever told Takeomi that, the first time he didn't have to be the responsible one or the one in charge, or the one trying to keep up with the others. It marks a change in your relationship. 

It's a slow process, a lot for him to unlearn but Takeomi does become more honest with you, letting himself be vulnerable with you. And with that he let's himself fall in love with you too, accepting you as his and him as yours. Sometimes he wonders what he did to deserve a wife like you. 

[starry-scarl3tt]

what’s a non-canon house md pairing you think had the most potential and why?? (saw the asks reblog <3)

thank you for asking<33

apart from hilson, i see chase and foreman having a chance, as well as cameron and thirteen.

> chase and foreman are similar in a lot of way, yet so different at the same time. chase needs to not feel alone/lonely and foreman needs someone who can understand him.

the best parallel is foreman giving thirteen the actual drug in the clinic trial instead of the placebo, right after house says he wouldn’t/couldn’t/shouldn’t (paraphrasing) “unless you love her”, and saying people do stupid things for love. then there’s the other side with foreman burning the chart, helping chase get away with the whole dibala thing, masking it as a complete accident, and speaking in front of so many important people, essentially jeopardizing his entire career if word ever got out.

i could go on about the bachelor party and them having fun together, foreman being all smile-y (thought i do admit, he was drunk) and friend-like to chase because!! after so many years that’s what they were!! friends!! no matter how many times foreman denies it, that’s genuinely what they were and they cared about each other so much it drives me crazy.

may i add how the alleged power imbalance feeds both of their subconscious? foreman always acts like the superior, treating others as if they were his subordinates. on the other hand, chase always acts like a subordinate, always trying to please the ones he admires.

chase gets attached to people. so does foreman. this could easily be a thing that lasts a lifetime. not to mention, in the end they’re dean of medicine and HOD on diagnostic medicine so they would meet a lot. they have so much common ground and what to bond over, it would just take one important step to be able to overcome the start.

also they could be self destructive together<3

so in conclusion: i love them and they’re my poor little meow meows doomed by the narrative for history to repeat again. mic drop

> on the camteen part, i have spent less time analysing (i confess), but a few of the main reasons i think they would be a strong couple are:

1. thirteen is obviously dying. cameron doesn’t want to fix broken people, she wants to accept them;

2. cameron is a lot like the poet with the bleeding heart type while thirteen acts too strong for her own good. they could lower each other’s guards’ down^^

3. comphet allison cameron. need i say more? the point that they could lower each other’s guards’ down still stands!!

yup, that’s all for now. thanks for the ask!! was so fun to answer.

[mermaidslabyrinth]

Thank you HotD Fandom

I have been writing since I was around 11. All my works would stay in notebooks, on my word document, or printed out on paper and stashed away. I did post my first fic when I was around 13. Then sporadically through the years. The last time I posted any writing of mine was 10 years ago. But I’m trying to open up more with my writing, creative thoughts, by exposing my work little by little. And out of all the fandoms I’ve been in, it was the HotD fandom, the people I found, that made me feel comfortable enough to do so. Also, I’ve never been more proud or had more love for an OC I’ve created before Rhagerys. I’ve commissioned pieces of art of him, something I have never done with an OC before, and I am quite excited for that. 

So my thanks to all the HotD fans that I have had the pleasure of interacting with (following, being mutuals, reblogging their posts through someone I follow). I have had such a wonderful time and do hope to continue to do so.  I decided to write this because who knows what the future will bring. And I wanted people to know just how much they can make an impact.

Many thanks to: 

@emilykaldwen her ask started it all and I will always be grateful for that. for she was the one who helped me step away from the corner and join in with the other creators. It’s a slow process but I am getting there. 

@selfproclaimedunicorn seeing your OC tags on regular posts emboldened me to start doing the same. It’s another, subtle, way for my work to be put out in the universe. Doing so has even helped me flesh my OMC more in the tags of certain posts. 

@happilyhertale for her wonder writing (I will reblog them. They are on my list). And her continued supply of Daemon/Matt posts. They keep me going with writing Daemon scenes.

@ewanmitchellcrumbs for that ask she answered very recently about just going for it with your writing. It inspired me.

@thought--bubble for being such a lovely person. Your writing skills are top notch (your stories are on my list). 

@vhagar-balerion-meraxes you helped me from being a wallflower to slowly coming in and joining along with the rest. You were the first person in the HotD fandom to extend a hand and pull me into the fun. You make beautiful gif sets. You are very sweet. I appreciate that I was able to find your blog. 

@sylasthegrim I know I don’t show it but I am so happy I follow you. You are slowly converting me to a Cregan appreciator. Like I get it. Your stories are so creative (I will read them they are on the list) and you are so open and kind in your inbox. 

@multiverse-of-multifandoms your fantastic gif making. You help me feel comfortable when I’m joining in on the fun. 

@livmondcole you are one of the sweetest ppl I’ve been lucky enough to follow. You show patience and kindness through your words. 

@dr-aegon you are one of the reasons I was able to get a commission of my OMC. I checked your blog one night and you had a reblog of someone who opened up commissions. They are working on it now, I’ve seen the line work and I’m excited, and I have you to thank for it. Besides that you are one of the reasons that I started to really like Aegon. I see how much you care for him and it warmed my heart and the little disaster did as well. 

And even though she is no longer part of the fandom: peachysunrize was such a wonderful person to follow and read her stories and read the asks ppl would send her. 

Honestly all my HotD mutuals. 

Also shout out to the artists, your works are amazing to see. And shout out to the other fic writers, your writing is enjoyed by many people who like reading about their favorite characters. And the gif makers, the creativity and patience you have. The sets I have seen have blown me away. I know all of these are talents that need to be praised more. The work you all bring to the fandom is always such a gift.

[fashionteahouse]

Hello beautiful!! I hope you’re doing well!! 💗💗💗 Anyways, I was binging on all of your fics again cause they are just so addicting to read. And an idea popped into my head when I reread L$d with Paul and Embry.

This is what I had in mind. Rachel and reader are at her place beyond horny and frustrated. So wanting relief and eager to try something new, they go down at each other. As they are getting it on, Paul and Embry are on patrol. While they are on patrol, their heat suddenly arrives. Feeling desperate, they run to Rachel’s place as soon as their patrol is done. And they come home to a wild sight. But they freakin love it. Paul and Embry join in on the fun as Rachel and Reader help calm their heat down. Idk just a food for thought.

As always keep up the good work! Every fic you post is amazing!! Stay happy forever please!!

- 🪄 anon

hi lovely all is well ! thank you so much for the support and super kind words 😽💜 hope you enjoy :)

AN: for anybody who’s interested in reading : l$d part one l$d part two

lipgloss - reader x embry x paul x rachel

The sky was darkening as Embry and Paul rose up. You and Rachel rose up as well.

“I’ll be over Rachel’s. I don’t want to be by myself.” you say to Embry as he placed a kiss on your forehead and embraced you right before leaving out of the door.

“That’s fine. I’ll just come and get you when we’re done, alright?” he says to you and you nod. With that, Embry placed a kiss on your face and Paul tapped his arm to let him know it’s time to get a move on.

The soft smile you had on your face, disappeared as soon as he left, you sigh out.

Rachel points to the television at her place, “See? I so envy the girls who gets to be clingy to their man. I barely see mine.” she says and you chuckle, “Right.”

“I can’t wait until this lessens down. It seems like day by day, I see less and less of Paul.” she says, feeling a bit frustrated.

You shift so you’re face to face with her, “Yeah, that’s how it is with me and Embry. We don’t even have time to…Never mind.”

Rachel asks, “Have time to do what?”

“Nah. It’s a bit TMI.” you say as continue to watch the television.

“Y/N.” she says and you smile a bit, “Alright….It’s just that me and Embry haven’t had the time to be intimate. He’s too tired whenever he gets back. Only quick kisses and it’s like I’m about to go crazy.” you ramble.

Rachel slowly nods as she looked ahead, “I’m glad it’s not just me…I’ve never been in a situation where Paul didn’t want to give me head.”

“This is bad.” you comment.

“Super bad. I’m this close to humping someone’s leg like a dog.”

You laugh at this but you understood, you were in that same boat.

The series you two were watching went to a break, there was nothing but silence.

“So…How long do you think this will last?”

“Hopefully not long.” you say as you looked to her in horror.

“If it does,” she says and links her hand with yours, “Let’s forget about these stupid boys and get married ourselves.”

A grin appeared on your face, “Imagine..If we actually did.”

“I’ve never been with a girl so what do you think girls do when they’re married to each other?”

You shrug a little, “I don’t know.” you answer sheepishly, “Probably like hanging with your best friend but on steroids.”

“They have lots of sex. Maybe they’re onto something.” Rachel says with a slight groan.

“They give each other head. You’ll at least be happy forever.” you say as you both walk to the kitchen to place the empty dishes in the dishwasher. She bubbled out a laugh.

She looks to you as you’re about to sit down while she stands. You knew that look. She had an idea.

“Why don’t we…” she trailed off. You stare at her with a blink.

“Are you…About to ask what I think you’re about to ask?”

“Maybe?” she says before sucking in a small breath. She sits down next to you.

The series came on but neither was looking at the screen. You instead were looking at each other. Studying each other. Neither of you wanted to speak it out loud, but two hands were joined while Rachel caressed the back of your hand with a thumb.

Your heart pounded, for some reason you didn’t feel nervous. Little did you know, she felt the same way.

Faces were inches apart before closing in distance. It was very slow but lips eventually pressed against each other.

With a soft smack, you both silently thought it felt nice. You both lean in again to see how it felt again. It seemed as though the pent up emotions were pouring out. Soon, you slightly open your mouth to breathe but Rachel slowly took the initiative to slip her tongue in. You both sigh as you both hold onto each other. Warm pools flowed from between of both you and Rachel’s legs as it was exciting and new. You both kissed each other as if both lives depended on it. You both were so in the moment.

Lightheaded, you both opened hooded eyes before Rachel whispered out, “Should we…?”

“Maybe?” you whispered back. Without planning to, you both slowly rise in sync.

Standing in the bedroom that she shared with Paul, you looked at her as she looked at you. Slightly shaky but excited hands reach out and take a hold of her waist. She does the same before your mouths meet again. This time, you both were pressed against each other. You both were focused as this was something that you both were experiencing for the first time.

An intake of breath through your nose was taken as you felt fingers dip a bit in your pants. You both had your faces close without kissing, breathing in the same breath, but she slowly but carefully felt the wet mush that coated her fingers. It was sensitive. It had been a while.

“Let’s just do it.” Rachel whispered against your lips, almost desperately. She was completely vulnerable. You were completely vulnerable. You nod slightly as she lets out a soft but heavy breath as you let your fingers feel her warm wetness. She grabbed your hand and pushed it deep in her pants. It was as if she was relieved, relieved that someone was touching her. You were relieved that someone was touching you too.

Pants were shoved off and you join each other in bed, Rachel climbing on you to kiss you deeply. You both move your hips slightly as you both sensually dry humped each other as tongues met each other’s tongues again and again.

With a quiet moan, you felt her poked out chest under her shirt, her eyes slightly closed as she continued to rock her hips while sitting up upon you.

Her fingers rose your shirt up and helps you take it off.

Rachel leaned forward, pressing each other’s chests to each other as you both tasted each other’s mouths again. The movements were slow and sensual as you both were glued to each other. Your hands go to her naked back as she kisses your jaw and the side of your neck. Quiet sighs were heard from both of you.

Your fingers hit her underwear, your fingers slowly peels them down, she sits back and does the rest of the work of taking them off, leaving her naked before you. The sight was erotic as she then leaned forward over you, taking in a breast in her mouth. You lean your head back with a soft breath. Her wet tongue circled your hardened nipples as she caressed them, almost massaging them.

She lets her own hardened nipples scrape against yours as she captured your mouth in another wet kiss.

You peel your own underwear down, discarding then to the side.

Skin to skin, you both really moan as hands felt each other up while kissing.

Rachel was now on her back, she had no shame as she slowly cracked her legs open, revealing to you the glistening sight. Your fingers gently touch it, feeling the sticky but smooth substance.

“It’s like lipgloss.” you whisper and she quietly chuckled. She was silently excited but so were you.

Using your thumb, you softly pressed against her and circled it, watching her face slightly crumble from the sensation.

You just wanted to know what it tasted like. You put the thumb in your mouth to see what it tasted like and you hum out a sound of approval. Using your saliva to circle her sensitive nub. She slightly bit her lip as you sunk one finger into her. Her hips rolled and you worked your finger as she moaned out. You felt her hand touch your hand, signaling you to add another finger.

Pretty soon, she was fucking herself on your two fingers, twisting the sheets in her fingers as she focused with her hips.

Your fingers were coated after the small but intense orgasm. It was beautiful.

“You’re right. It is like lipgloss.” she whispered as she caught her breath and grabbed your fingers, taking the coated ones in her mouth. She cleaned them with her mouth before grabbing you back into a kiss, putting you right onto your back.

She used one swipe of her tongue on your opening that produced a breathy moan to escape out of your mouth.

Your legs got wobbly as she slowly took her time, licking and making out with your center, your hips lurched as she circled her tongue on your own sensitive nub. You saw stars and whispered out a “oh my god.”

You gifted her back with your own tongue. She held onto your head and the sheets next to her. Her moans were continuous. Her relaxed hips followed your tongue. You sucked her in as you ate her heart out, she whispered out your name like a prayer. She came, you didn’t care that her natural juices were spread across your face.

The patrol was boring, at least for Embry and Paul. They hadn’t seen any vampires for the time they’ve been out.

Embry felt something, something that was aching. He softly panted with his wolf mouth as he trotted through the woods. He was throbbing so much, it almost hurt.

Paul circled around a bit as he felt an aching sensation that wasn’t going away. His mind went to Rachel and how it’s been so long. He didn’t realize how much time went past as he thought back to the last time they were having sex.

“Paul man are you ready? I gotta get Y/N.”

Paul looked at Embry’s wolf. By the wild look, Paul knew he wasn’t the only one who was feeling in heat. Embry’s mind leaked out filling you with his puppies.

“Yeah, come on let’s go.”

Embry and Paul rushed to the home that you and Rachel were in. Pulling up their shorts, Paul opened the front door, he stopped in the doorway.

“What’s wro-“

“Shhh.” Paul says with a finger to his own lips, Embry froze, “You hear that?” Paul asks with a soft smirk.

Embry did hear it. Muffled moans filled the home but he figured it was whatever you two were watching and Paul was just being immature. Embry nodded.

Paul walks slowly through the home. Embry looked at the television that was running in the living room, nothing sexual was displayed, which made him confused because the noises continued.

Paul saw the cracked bedroom door, pushing it slowly open. His nose was met with a mouthwatering scent as his eyes darkened.

Rachel riding your thigh and knee, her eyes were slightly closed as your hands were glued to her chest as you massaged them.

You didn’t notice the presence of the two boys until you saw Paul lean with his head tilted, capturing Rachel in a kiss. She continued the buck of her hips as she held onto Paul’s neck, deepening the kiss. Your head turns to Embry who already has his shorts off, his hardened dick in his hand, slowly stroking himself.

Rachel moaned out with a high octave and Paul watched closely as she rode out her high. She flops next to you, trying to catch her breath.

Paul’s shorts were discarded and his dick bobbed with his movements as he hovered over Rachel next to you.

Embry followed his moments, except scooting you down to where your lower body is hanging off the end of the bed.

He sleeked himself against you as he leaned forward. You lean up to give him a kiss. You felt the bed rock, but Embry sunk into you, you both sighed out with relief. It’s been so long.

He pulls himself out, before sliding back in. It was driving you crazy as you tried to grab ahold of his arms but he was steady. His hardness allowing him to anticipate the next time he slid back in.

“Please Embry, please.” you begged in a whisper and with that he sunk himself deep as your legs were over his shoulders. His hips continuously snapped as you moaned out. His groan was quiet but firm as he continued to deepen his strokes. It was as if he was harder than ever before, his hand gripped the side of your hip, you gasp out the change in rhythm. You thought you were going to die by how hard you climaxed.

You lay back as your chest breathed up and down. Embry stroked himself as you noticed he was still hard as ever. You sit up, peek over to find Rachel riding Paul just like she was riding on your thigh.

Paul was staring up at her as if she was a goddess but he glanced at you, watching and you turn away. You reach forward and take a hold of Embry’s erection and sensually stroke him. His face went to the sky as he groaned.

You felt an open mouth kiss on your neck, finding Rachel at your side. She captured you in a kiss as you continued to stroke Embry.

One of her hands caressed your breast as you lay back, letting go of Embry. Embry instead sleeked against your moisture, as Rachel continued to eat at your mouth. She climbed on you, sitting against Embry’s hardness, her lips never detaching from yours.

You both moan into each other’s mouths as Embry continued to move, sleeking against both of you.

Rachel lets up, looking behind her, now moaning at Embry.

Your lips were captured but this time by Paul. You never kissed him before but you soon find that he had a talented mouth, his hand was groping your chest. You felt yourself be scooted away and you open your eyes, finding that Embry had Rachel against his chest as she had an arm around him, kissing him. Embry let her glide against his hardened flesh as his hands were greedy, feeling every inch of the front of her body.

Hot hands steered your chin away from that sight and his intense gaze is what’s in your eyesight. He kissed you deep as he pressed himself into you, both hands cupping the bottom of you as his hips were strong with deep strokes, your legs tightened around his waist as you cried out. His mouth then makes out with your ear. You were so far gone, you didn’t know what was what anymore as you blindly gripped his naked back.

As he pounded you from behind, gripping your hips so your arched back couldn’t move, you shakily gasped out at both the sensation and the sight of watching as Rachel rode Embry from behind, reverse cowgirl. She opens her eyes and softly smiled at you as she was able to lean forward, still riding him hard. She leans to bring you in a kiss. It was sloppy but still fulfilling.

Embry held you in his arms as he carried you out, starting the journey to the home you both shared. You were slumped and fast asleep in his arms. He peered down at you with slight amusement as he knew that you were worn out, the heated session did last for a long time. Him and Paul couldn’t help it, they did go on and on until they finally went limp. The aching between his legs was still there, but had lessened a lot. With a kiss on your nose, he made plans for the next time you opened your eyes.

[restlessmaknae]

pimple patches // anton

Doing skincare has never seemed so fun before doing it with your boyfriend, Anton.

➳ Characters: boyfriend!Anton x female reader/you

➳ Genre: domestic au, established relationship au, slice of life, fluff

➳ Words: 0.7k

➳ Warning: mentions of pimples, periods

➳ A/N: Very much inspired by these pics of Anton having star-shaped pimple patches on his cheeks. *-*

Stars in his eyes, stars on his cheeks, Chanyoung looks you in the eye, his gaze nothing short of mesmerizing, but it doesn’t take long for him to get shy, and a giggle to escape his lips.

“Why?” You ask him, your lips curling upwards at his reaction, but he covers his mouth with his hands instead of an answer. “What is it?” You prompt him, nudging his shoulder playfully.

He looks back at you, his mouth still half-covered by his hands, but then, he reaches out, and for a moment, you think that he will cup your cheeks. Your heart immediately picks up its pace, not because you are nervous, moreso because he always makes you feel as giddy as you were when you just started dating. You are as shy as him, so it feels like you are constantly in a competition over whose face gets more flushed when you give compliments to one another or make a cute remark.

However, at the last moment, he picks up something from your pyjama shirt and shows the culprit to you: a star-shaped pimple patch sitting on the tip of his finger.

“This fell off just when I turned towards you, and I… I thought it was… cute,” Chanyoung replies, his answer cut by his constant giggles, and his soft voice makes you want to melt into a puddle. He’s someone who sometimes takes his time answering, but you never mind because his voice carries the exact same warmth that his personality carries with him.

Chanyoung would never want to hurt anyone willingly, and you love him for it. Hell, he can’t even get rid of a spider in your flat, so you can’t tell him to do it instead of you. You love his big heart, and how he sees the good in people, including you. Even if you’re vulnerable with him, he never looks at you any differently, just watches you gently, softly, listening to what you have to say, and comforting you while drawing circles on your back, something that always helps to soothe your nerves.

Other times, he holds your hands as if he wanted to anchor you, and embraces you, holding you close to his chest, his protective arms keeping anything bad away from you. When you’re on your period, he warms up the hot water bottle for you and holds it on your abdomen while hugging you from behind, so you can sleep peacefully.

Yet, his love is evident in all those subtle gazes you exchange when you’re just out and about, or how he initiates snuggling up to you while watching a movie. It’s in the way he always puts enough water in the kettle for two before you get home because he knows you like to get a cup of tea after getting home. It’s in the way his eyes are on you from the moment you open your eyes and catch him staring at you to having him watch over you until you fall asleep.

Or even just in the way he shares his sheet masks with you, and you put on pimple patches together because he likes taking care of his skin, and so do you.

“Will you put it on for me then?” You inquire with a smile and take a step closer to him, taking in the three pimple patches already adorning his cheeks.

He bobs his head with a coy smile, then leans closer to gently press the little blue star onto your skin before smoothing it down. You watch him do it with full concentration, not realising that he’s super close to your face until he locks eyes with you. Then, his cheeks turn adorably pink once again, not to mention when you press a chaste kiss onto his lips.

“Thank you,” you whisper afterwards, and turn back to the mirror to brush your hair, only to see your cheeks tinted in a similar colour.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think! 😊

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for RIIZE (OT7, of course) or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here. 🥰

Header taken from this RISE & REALIZE episode.

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

[luckyblackcatxiii]

Hello! Sorry in advance if this has already been answered somewhere. I really admire the way that you design outfits for your characters and wanted to ask if there were any reference sources that you recommend for designing D&D-ish fantasy outfits. Have you just picked up trends/patterns over time? Are there a certain time periods or fashion eras that you like to emulate in your designs? Media that has inspired the designs? Thanks for sharing your amazing art with us!!

Hey there!

No apologies needed, you'd be the first to ask me this (that I remember in the last couple of years, at least)

I think my biggest suggestion to anyone who wants to design outfits for characters--fantasy or not--is to first do some studying on how clothing is structured, as well as historical and/or regional fashion. Whether that's taking a class or just going through various medias that cover the topic, such knowledge helps you get an overall roundness on the basics of how clothes work, how they can be applied to the human figure, and just why certain fashions became in vogue via the times, emotions, economies, psychology and culture they reflected. All which can then serve as inspiration and guidance on how to go about clothing your made up person/society/etc, because after all: not only do we dress ourselves to reflect our own individuality, but people have been doing that for generations before us. Whether it's the fabric used or the shape of the silhouette, clothes tell a story! And a lot of it is interesting!!!

Also, the more you understand clothing, the more believable and strong your designs will present themselves.

(You'll also suffer the curse of recognizing how inaccurate a lot of historical TV shows and movies are with their depictions of costuming, then have to stifle this down so as not be obnoxious to those around you! Yay!!)

When it comes to designing fantasy things though, the best part of drawing from reality and historic fashion is you can have references without the feeling of having to be entirely beholden to accuracy (while still--I should hope--being respectful enough to avoid borrowing more personal aspects of cultures who may not appreciate parts of their identity being used without knowledge/context applied). I often like to mix and match different time period/regional aesthetics and mesh them into something that becomes seemingly familiar yet unique enough to call my own, and it seems to pay off in the long run.

Aside from that, I like to keep in mind the practicality of an outfit--why is it being worn and what is its purpose?--while also making sure it defines the most important aspects of my character, as well as has a nice shape/sillhouette. After that, aesthetics, personal enjoyment, easter eggs, and overall fun make up the rest of the designing process. Be sure to indulge once in awhile, if not always if that's your vibe!

On that note: I personally like to depict western clothing between the 15th-early 20th century, with the Georgian and Edwardian era being my favorite. Though, thanks to my VtM game, I've definitely grown a deeper appreciation and affection for the 20s more 'recently' and with Curse of Strahd, I've been having a ton of fun getting more familiarized with Slavic and Eastern European clothing. I have a lot of CoS NPCs that need designing (and I'd like to do a fashion zine for Barovia someday, so I've been doing a lot of research as of late...)!

If I'd have to give credit to any media that's inspired my own designs, I'd have to say Odin Sphere (or any fantasy based Vanillaware game, really) is always there in the back of my mind when I'm tackling a fantasy look. I'm absolutely blanking on anything else, but i'm sure there's plenty of inspiration that subconsciously sits in my brain just Ratatouille-ing my hand when I decide to design things AHAHAH~ I'm sure once this is posted, it'll all come rushing to me...

This has gone on pretty long and I admittedly feel like an unqualified egomaniac after yapping as much as I have, but I hope this helps, if not offers some overall insight on my own process! Thank you so much for your inquiry and kind words, I'm so glad you enjoy my stuff and look forward to supplying you more in the future! :,3c <3

[isat-script-project]

Hey! This might be a bit of a strange question, so no worries if you don’t feel like answering, but I figured this would be a good place to ask. I’m currently looking for my senior quote, and I think it would be fun to do a line from one of my favorite games.

Do you have any favorite lines from ISAT? Thanks!

I don't know how senior quotes-able my favorite isat lines are... But you can have my favorites anyway!

"I'm a star, but do you really think it warms me up? That my chest isn't empty, still?" (Loop convo after The Incident)

"What does the star beating in your chest hunger for?" (King fight act5)

"Okay, so, why shouldn't you take up time travel? [...] Because there's no future in it!!!" (Memory of Puns)

I think outside the Big Two that live in my head forever and my sheer love of bad puns, I don't really have many favorite lines, per se... I am very good at knowing approximately what is written where but exact phrases always escape me... You can tell I am a big fan of the hunger symbolism.. heheh.

So! Call to action! Followers of this blog! Share your favorite ISAT quotes in the notes!! Give dear anon something to pick from!!

[tartagliove]

hi zebra!!! i hope you don’t mind me asking you a little question about you & tartaglia — i was wondering what drew you to him & what your fav traits of his are? do you have a particular dynamic in mind for you both? 🤭💗

i hope you’re having a wonderful sunday, make sure to keep warm !!!!

VANA HIIII!! it's always so good to see you hehe c: thank youuu, I'm having a lovely day and the sun was shining brightly despite the cold so it was very nice! I hope your Sunday (both the day and the character heh) has been wonderful too!!

oooh these are fun questions! okok so when the archon quest for Liyue came out, as soon as Tartaglia appeared with his "hey girlie, hold still!" I was all o.o and •///• so initially I liked him from the start because he's pretty, sounds nice, and he isn't the biggest Signora fan LAKSJDFAJKDSF (me too, ugh I detested her when she beat Venti up). also he just has really good dialogue and banter with Traveler and I oughhhhh kaljdflkajdsfljasf answering your questions might knock me out

anyway!! I love that Tartaglia is very loyal! I feel like very few people have his loyalty (the Tsaritsa and his family mainly) but once they earn it he would do anything for them. I love that he wants to become stronger and stronger so he always enjoys a fight, especially against strong opponents. and that bloodthirstiness contrasted with his love for his family?? ugh my heart. he adores his family and takes care of them as best as he can even though he's far away on missions. he writes the sweetest letters to his siblings.

soooo that brings me to the dynamic between me and Ajax!! from the moment we meet there's a lot of teasing and banter between us. a lot of pushing each other to be better. once we get to know each other and trust is formed, we become very loyal to each other despite Ajax's occupation. I'm a source of comfort to him from all the things he has to do for the Tasritsa's goals. (idk if you've heard of Epic the Musical but we're literally Odysseus and Penelope especially in the song "would you fall in love with me again".) Ajax returns and confesses the things he's had to do and every time he wonders if I'd stop loving him because of the blood on his hands and I reassure him every time that I choose him!!! ugh I'm going to cry alkdfjasdf so onto lighter things, we fit the fox x bunny dynamic very much hehe. he's a little meaner and teasing and loves to see my reactions and I'll give it back as best as I can! but he can fluster me a lot more easily >u< his face is too pretty...

[amethystfairy1]

(I keep sending asks so I dont remember if I've told you this alr or not if so feel free to just delete one of them lol)

Anyway just got back from a really long trip overseas and during that trip I downloaded a buncha chapters of your works to read in various Ubers, and because of the fact that my family has 5 people and most ubers only carry 4, my (ten-year-old) sister ended up on my lap in most cases. So she ended up reading a LOT of TTSBC and a biiit of TT. She wanted me to let you know her commentary on the things she read so here's that (chapters in the order she read them):

TTSBC:

Little birdie - "I think that that one was the most boring out of the ones I read, which is impressive cause it was really interesting. So I was like; 'its good... OMG WHAT IS HAPPENING' in a good way for the rest of the book.

Snickerdoodle - "I likey. Its one of those things that when you read it you feel like you wanna start doing push-ups but you cant read and do push-ups at the same time. It was also really cute." (take that as you will, no clue what it means lol)

Freezer-burned Fever - "That's a chapter?! It was so short... wouldn't putting ice on your back hurt your spine? Also arent their feathers really sensitive, why would he be okay with them being wet."

Hopeful Hero - "Makes me think of that one Christmas song, 'grandma got run over by a reindeer'. I loved the part where he couldn't do anything and Grian flew away and came back as an avian (still, he was already an avian but like now he was cool) and then everyone was like 'Avians arent that bad... or are they?' I liked that he let Grian push him because it showed that they were getting more comfortable with each other, it was cute, like Snickerdoodle. [holds up french fry Christmas squishmellow] also look, its like the chips they ate!"

TT

- I see the danger, it's written there in your eyes: "Scar is very cool. Mumbo... he's there. Grian is Tom Stoltman cause he's flying all night. The storekeeper... let me think of a way to say this nicely... GET OUT!!!!! [all caps, five exclamation marks]. It made my heart sad and my tummy hurt, and then the happy part hurt more because Grian was sad."

"Also... she's in college? [yes] What's she in college for? [I don't know] How'd she find time for writing a book? Isn't college for ten years? Did she write in her free time? I thought there's no free time in college? Did she do it in class? She clearly put thought into it." Message from her:

Hello! What are you doing college for? Where did you go to school for to get writing this good? I like your books. Please write 50,000 more words about Grian and Scar. Actually, add three more zeros to that. Okay. Thank you!

Awhhh???

That's so cute????

I DO get your asks I'm just so behind in my askbox I'm sorry! 😭 I love all your asks, I swear I LOVE the super long asks, I just always take long to answer them because I wanna answer them properly and take my time and I always end up taking too longggggg...

I'm so glad both you and your little sister are enjoying my stories! Thank you so much! I loved all your little comment!

Ah, to answer those questions, I'm not going to school for writing! 😆 I just write for fun and I guess I've done it so much that I managed to get pretty good at it! I'm actually a masters student, so I already have my undergraduate degree! And I'm getting my degrees in history! I'm so glad you like my stories, thank you so much!!! I dunno about 50k more Desert Duo, but I mean, stranger things have happened!

As for when I write, I do it in my free time! Which I don't have a ton of, but I'm pretty quick at typing and writing is my favorite way to relax so I manage to get a lot of it done even when I don't have a ton of time for it! Thanks so much for your nice words!!!

[seethesunny]

Are you a planner or a freestyler when you write, or somewhere in between?

Helloooo and morning Miss Australia, this is a good question! 🤔

Cannot sleep, so I'm answering right away:

It's not secret that I'm a control freak (hate categorizing me like that but honesty is an inherent part of our lives and that is pretty fitting, so it it what it is), and that has been a prominent thing in my writing since forever, even when it was like random stuff that got scribbled down on a notebook haha

This means that's why I can't post long fics without having no direction, planning or "ahead" writing beforehand, I'm not posting something I know I won't finish so it's better if I have everything done from the start. Is it too idealistic? Yes. There's nothing some spite can't hurry up.

I think that puts me more on the planner side since I really need to have an outline before fully delving into said idea. While I can absolutely write in the moment and freestyle whatever I want—legit there are times when I get possessed—and considering I'm most known for doing oneshots pursuing one idea/concept/theme at a time, and I'm good at improvising, still I prefer to have something backing up what I'm coming up with.

I have the tendency to make two documents (one for the real writing, one for the outline with bullet points and sometimes inspo), occasionally I'll check them and drive myself nuts by changing important stuff, or rearranging ideas, or adding something totally different, but watching this slow process turn into a story is fascinating and while I'm not someone that shares my stuff (I try not to gatekeep okay) there are days when I spend time reading what I'm weaving together and I know one day maybe someone will love it as much as I do.

But writing as a whole? Just the habit of putting something down? I can do that. Some of these eventually become something bigger, so I don't necessarily need to have the planning first before writing, just that the process of coming up with a story involves lots of planning and polishing, and some awful sleepy writing.

Anyway, considering my tendencies, I'm gonna have to go with planner 🧍🏽‍♀️