#that’s what it feels like. in my head ofc.

[settlersoferia]

Eria trivia because if I'm gonna play bingo with the list I might as well share

how about no currency? how about people genuinely wanting to help each other? barter exists and in tight knit communities like the villages, everyone will have some kind of chore (a job, normal people call that having a job) like hunting or chopping down trees for the fire, so that everyone contributes within their abilities and everyone is taken care of

totally not because making up currencies is the bane of my existence, what the heck do I call it??

30 hour clock,

° 1 marks sunrise and most people naturally wake up soon after since the magic comes from the sun, and they get an energy boost

° work / school doesn't start till 3 (or even later) so that everyone has plenty of time to eat, get ready and get there with no stress

° getting up before sunrise is considered unreasonable, few do it, expecting someone to do it will earn you a hit to the head and no compliance

° sunset is at 16

° night time is rest time, you go chill at home with family or friends or alone or sleep

° unless you're nocturnal ofc,

° or partially nocturnal, then insert whatever routine (or lack there of) works for you

° to indicate time more specifically than to the hour you can say '2 and a half' or '2 and a quarter (or 3)', people don't watch time too closely so that's all you'll hear in daily use

there is an official precentral time measure system that goes to 100 but who needs that, written 2'50 for 2 and a half and so on, you get it

don't have seasons worked out, maybe there aren't any or they make too little sense to predict with reasonable regularity, magic, you know how it goes

magical weather anomalies, will work out the kinks eventually

3 moons, no planetary rings on Eria but I love them and I will put them somewhere, that is a promise, maybe on a moon, that'd be interesting; ooh wait can a moon have mini moons? I wanna

whatever colour roads the city wants to have, maybe even rainbow or iridescent (the whole planet is gonna be lively and colourful)

dragon bone jewellery and other trinkets, it's a culture thing for them but can be given to friends too

(dragons are sentient, not animals)

their bones are famously dense and durable (and black)

there's a synthetic material called dragonbone or blackbone with similar properties (less durable than the real thing but easier to get) (dragons and magic sensitive individuals can feel the difference)

+ dragon hide armour (really comfy and durable, should be gifted not bought)

the equivalent of marriage is soul binding

° there are magic perks like some minor telepathy, feeling when the other is hurt, etc

° there aren't any restrictions on how many you can have & you can soul bind with friends

° the strength of the connection depends on how close you are

legal names only matter for documents and can be changed relatively easily, you can take partner's name if you wish, no need for any ceremonies as religion and stuff exists separately of law (as it should)

people like to give each other nicknames so you might not even use your legal name much

no concept of virginity or bastardry ✅

no proper concept of gender because multiple species live here and every species has some different cultural norms so over time it just kinda blends together and none cares

idk if it's monotheism but over time some people took to seeing the planet as a goddess and there are legends of her Children™ who are perceived as either gods of their own or some sort of semi gods

and no creationism because everyone knows where they (or their ancestors) came from and it's not Eria

although some might believe they're descendants of The Children, whether it's true I cannot tell

'gods that don't look like people' a whole planet goddess

don't really have anything on pets yet but I'll make a separate post about animals and I can do some funky pets

nonverbal communication - Erian sign language may not be the most advanced one but it's commonly used so you can communicate to some extent with most people across the planet

I'm actually planning to explore the creation of it in the book

and I'm sure there are some proper versions of it around, will probably figure out more eventually because it's a shame not to have any

Small fantasy worldbuilding elements you might want to think about:

A currency that isn’t gold-standard/having gold be as valuable as tin

A currency that runs entirely on a perishable resource, like cocoa beans

A clock that isn’t 24-hours

More or less than four seasons/seasons other than the ones we know

Fantastical weather patterns like irregular cloud formations, iridescent rain

Multiple moons/no moon

Planetary rings

A northern lights effect, but near the equator

Roads that aren’t brown or grey/black, like San Juan’s blue bricks

Jewelry beyond precious gems and metals

Marriage signifiers other than wedding bands

The husband taking the wife's name / newlyweds inventing a new surname upon marriage

No concept of virginity or bastardry

More than 2 genders/no concept of gender

Monotheism, but not creationism

Gods that don’t look like people

Domesticated pets that aren’t re-skinned dogs and cats

Some normalized supernatural element that has nothing to do with the plot

Magical communication that isn’t Fantasy Zoom

“Books” that aren’t bound or scrolls

A nonverbal means of communicating, like sign language

A race of people who are obligate carnivores/ vegetarians/ vegans/ pescatarians (not religious, biological imperative)

I’ve done about half of these myself in one WIP or another and a little detail here or there goes a long way in reminding the audience that this isn’t Kansas anymore.

[ditzydoe444]

i feel like perv!jason would steal sum of ditzy!readers clothes n give it back to her so he seems like a hero for finding it for her (after he came inside it ofc!!)

— your fav, 🍓 (SORRY THIS JUST CAME UP INMY HEAD AND I NEEDED TO TRLL YOU IT UGHH)

MDNI 18+

a/n: i love all requests don’t apologise :((

you grumbled as you searched your closet for your favourite shirt, the one you wore to bed basically every single damn night was gone. at this point you flipped your whole closet and room upside down, and still that shirt was no where to be seen.

jason who was working on building your vanity remained ‘unaware’ or so you thought. “what’s wrong?” he asked, seemingly innocent to you, but you were just too damn dumb. you pouted, your pink glossed lips jutting out, “lost my favourite sleeping shirt.”

jason frowned at your response, his emotions seemingly empathetic, but it was all a part of a scheme. “sorry to hear that, maybe i can help you look?” his muscles rippling against his shirt as he tightened a bolt.

you shrugged, it seemed useless, you’ve searched everywhere, and you knew every single possible hiding spot so how could jason find it? he stood up dusting his pants, “how about this? i go to look for it, and you go and bake me some of those choc chip cookies i like so much hm?”

obviously, from how dumb you were you didn’t see his ploy, thinking he was some knight in shining armour offering to help. you nodded with a cheesy smile your pout finally gone. “ok jacey,” you said before skipping down to the kitchen, leaving him all alone in your room.

the moment you were in a safe distance away, which jason could tell from your humming whilst you grabbed the baking pan he pulled out the shirt from his duffle bag. for the past few weeks jason had lied about his laundry machine being broken, and asked if he could just use yours. although that was just an excuse to have his clothes smell like yours.

though his actions make seem heroic to you being so unaware, but little did you know what he did to that poor shirt. the moment he went back to his house, he would lock himself in his room and jerk off, coming to it. he would sniff it, rubbing it against his cock before coming all over it. and that was just one shirt he did that to.

though he warned most of the incriminating evidence away, there was just a few stains left… he couldn’t be bothered to do anything about it, knowing just how damn dumb you are, you wouldn’t even think twice. “found it!” he shouted, walking to the kitchen with the shirt in his hands.

“it was under your bed,” he shrugged with a casual smile seeing how your eyes widened like a puppy. a small squeal left your lips before you wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. “thanks jacey!!” he didn’t waste a second to wrap his strong arms around you. silently, he wished that this moment wouldn’t end, the way your chest was squished against his was just too much.

god he was going to do this again.

[airybcby]

Hiii!! I love your Blue Lock writing sm! I’ve fallen down such a rabbit hole in the fandom recently so when I just saw your post I knew I had to ask!!😭

I was wondering if I could make a request for the Fate Event for Kaiser or Shido with the red string of fate

Thank you so much💗

Hi Hi! Sorry it's taken me a bit to get to this, I've had personal stuff and school is kicking my butt, but ofc!

I decided to do Shido bc I love writing for him so much :)

Shido Ryusei x The Red String of Fate

જ⁀♡⊹｡° guess i'm stuck forever

♡ a/n — for my 800 follower event!

♡ content — shidou ryusei x gn! reader, gn! reader, reader has strong feelings (slight hatred) for shidou , shidou is a little shit, red string soulmate AU, soulmate AU, proposal (fake), set when reader & shidou are at least 21+

♡ synopsis — You wanted to be mad, but the pull of the red string and the ridiculous sparkle in Shidou Ryusei's eyes made it hard to stay angry. Maybe this was destiny’s idea of a joke.

You weren’t even supposed to be at this game.

Soccer wasn’t your thing—never had been, never would be—but your best friend had begged you to come. “PXG games are legendary,” they’d said, eyes sparkling. “And Shidou Ryusei is unreal.”

Shidou Ryusei. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but it wasn’t until you saw him on the field that you felt the strange tug in your chest—one that sent your mind spiraling back to high school.

Back then, your friend had dragged you to your school’s rivalry game against another local powerhouse. You hadn’t cared about the match, but you remembered a player on the rival team. His bleached hair had made him stand out, as did the almost animalistic way he played. Back then, the red string around your finger had pulled faintly in his direction.

You hadn’t thought much of it. It was easy to dismiss soulmates as a romanticized idea, and besides, you figured the string would pull more strongly if you were ever truly meant to meet your soulmate. But now, standing in the packed stadium, you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

The red string was practically thrumming with energy, pulling taut in one unmistakable direction: straight toward Shidou Ryusei.

He moved across the pitch like a force of nature, reckless and magnetic. Every goal he scored sent the crowd into a frenzy, and though you weren’t a soccer fan, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him.

“This has to be a mistake,” you muttered under your breath, clutching your hand to your chest as if that would stop the string from tugging.

Your friend, too caught up in the game, didn’t notice your unease. “Isn’t he insane? No one plays like Shidou!”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

After the game ended and PXG secured their victory, your friend got swept up in the post-match celebrations. That left you standing awkwardly on the sidelines, the buzzing in your finger making it impossible to leave.

It wasn’t logical, but you found yourself heading toward the players’ exit. You told yourself it was just curiosity—that you needed to see if this pull was real. But the closer you got, the stronger the string became, like it had a mind of its own.

You pushed your way to the barricades, where a crowd of fans had already gathered, phones in hand and security guards stationed to keep everyone in line. You tried to blend in, though you weren’t even sure what you were hoping to accomplish.

And then, everything changed.

A commotion rippled through the crowd as Shidou Ryusei himself appeared. He was shirtless, his jersey draped casually over his shoulder, and his grin was nothing short of feral.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat.

The red string between you felt like it was about to snap with tension. And when Shidou’s gaze landed on you, his grin widened into something even wilder.

You heard mumbled words of the security guards, one telling him to get back and change while the other was yelling at the rabid fangirls and asking Shidou what he was doing.

He pointed directly at you.

“Getting my love, duh!” he said proudly, loud enough for the whole crowd to hear.

The world seemed to stop.

You gawked at him, mortified as every pair of eyes turned in your direction.

“I’m not—” you stammered, but the words wouldn’t come out.

Shidou was already moving toward you, weaving through the stunned crowd with a single-minded focus. The intensity in his eyes was too much.

Panicked, you turned and ran.

Back in your room that night, you sat on your bed, staring at the red string wrapped around your finger. Your heart was still racing. You couldn’t believe what had happened—or that Shidou Ryusei had actually called you his love in front of hundreds of people.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand. Frowning, you grabbed it, only to freeze when you saw the message from an unknown number:

Running won’t break the string, you know. ;) – R.S.

Your stomach flipped. How did he even get your number?

You debated ignoring it, but the string’s pull wouldn’t let you rest. Finally, after a long moment, you replied:

What do you want?

The response was instant.

To meet you, obviously. Tomorrow, 2 PM. I’ll send the location. Don’t run this time. :P

You weren’t sure why you agreed to meet him. Maybe it was the string pulling you forward. Maybe it was the fact that his message somehow felt more like a challenge than a request.

Either way, you found yourself sitting at an outdoor café, nervously tapping your fingers against the table. When Shidou arrived, he was just as chaotic as you remembered—swaggering in with that unhinged grin and a confidence that made your stomach churn.

“You showed up!” he said, plopping into the chair across from you. “Guess the string works after all.”

“You’re insane,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “I don’t even know you.”

“Not yet,” he shot back, leaning forward with a glint in his eyes. “But that’s the fun part. Soulmates, remember? We’ve got time to fix that.”

Before you could respond, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a small box, and dropped to one knee.

Your jaw dropped. “What the—are you proposing?”

“Obviously,” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Why waste time? We’re meant to be together anyway.”

“Excuse you? Get up! You’re embarrassing me!" The people around you, hands almost clasped together in a clap gawking at your rude answer.

"We don’t even know each other!” You weren't sure if you were telling that to yourself, Shidou, or the onlookers.

Shidou just laughed, slipping the ring back into his pocket as if it had all been a joke. But his grin told you he was entirely serious.

“Relax, babe. I’ll save the real proposal for when you actually fall for me. Won’t take long, though—I’m pretty irresistible.”

You glared at him, your face hot with embarrassment. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re stuck with me,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk.

You wanted to be mad, but the pull of the red string and the ridiculous sparkle in his eyes made it hard to stay angry. Maybe this was destiny’s idea of a joke. Or maybe… just maybe… it wasn’t.

wrote this really late at night so it isn't my fave

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[luvismenu]

> motive — pt.5 ,, index ! nsfw

. . brother's bestfriend!jungkook au . .

wc: 4.6k+

warnings: banter, teasing, lots of cursing ofc, kissing, some oral (fem receiving), fingering, clit play, he's kinda aggresive, jungkook being a dick in the end, cliffhanger-ish?

jeon jungkook is so fucking stubborn.

once he sets his mind on something, there’s no going back. if he thinks something might hurt someone, he won’t ever risk it. he doesn’t change his mind, doesn’t budge, doesn’t care how annoying it is. he’ll stick to his decision no matter what.

it’s a stupid habit, but he’s always been like this. and honestly, you’re starting to think he always will be.

you’ve known that ever since the bike incident from when you were kids. it was your brother’s bicycle. you really liked it, and you wanted to ride it secretly because you knew jimin wouldn't let you. you begged jungkook to let you, but he refused. your brother had told him, very seriously, that it would break his heart if you fell and got hurt. and, of course, jungkook listened. he took your brother’s words like gospel and never let you touch the bike.

it didn’t matter that you cried about it. even though he looked a little guilty seeing you bawling your eyes out, he still wouldn’t budge. your brother’s feelings came first, even if you were sitting there heartbroken.

and that was when you were four, and they were nine

jungkook never told you why he didn't let you touch your brother's bike either. you only know about this because jimin told you when you grew up. which really pissed you off.

maybe it’s a silly thing to still think about, but it’s just so annoying that he hasn’t changed. he’s always been like this— choosing what’s “right” even if it makes you mad.

sure, he’s not your best friend, but that doesn’t mean you both didn’t grow up together. you were always there, tagging along, watching him and jimin get into all kinds of trouble. and your brother always found ways to keep you quiet, too.

“jungkook, let's carry her on the way home.”

“jungkook, give her your candy so she won’t tell mom and dad.”

and it worked.

every time.

it was fun, you won’t lie. making them beg you not to rat them out, holding it over their heads. oh, it was so fucking fun.

it’s still almost the same, you know all your brother’s secrets, and by extension, jungkook’s. growing up with them, you picked up more than they ever wanted you to. and, well, why wouldn’t you use that information to your advantage? sometimes for fun, sometimes to get what you want.

and what did mufasa say? it’s the mother fucking circle of life.

“saw that you were with taehyung a few days ago,” jimin says casually as he pulls on his jacket.

you’re stretched out on the couch, scrolling through your phone. you’ve been debating whether or not to text jungkook, but you don’t want to look desperate. still, your fingers keep itching to type something.

your brothers words make you pause, but you don’t look up. instead, you respond simply, “yeah.”

“why?” he asks, his voice closer now. you glance up to find him standing right behind you, staring down.

you shrug, keeping your eyes glued to your phone. “just because.”

and then, without warning, he snatches the phone from your hands, holding it high above his head. you gasp, jumping up immediately.

“oh, you son of a—”

“careful,” he interrupts with a smug grin, “we share the same mother.”

you glare, crossing your arms. “give me my phone back.”

“answer me properly,” he counters. “do you like taehyung?”

your face scrunches in immediate disgust. “no! he just wanted to meet up and talk. you know, because he helped me with my projects back in middle school, and we were kinda like friends.” you emphasize the words as you uncross your arms, as if reminding him.

jimin sighs and finally lowers your phone, which you snatch back with lightning speed.

“okay,” he relents, “just don’t get too close to him.”

“why?” you deadpan, raising a brow. “because he’s a model too, and you’ve got some secret rivalry with him?”

“because he hurt my best friend,” jimin snaps, his tone sharp, “and i don’t want to think about it.”

you shut your mouth, his words leaving no room for argument. the silence between you grows thick for a moment.

then, finally, you speak up. “whatever. i’m going to watch a movie. don’t disturb me.”

“i won’t, cuz i’m going out,” jimin says, grabbing his car keys from the table.

“with?” you ask, eyeing him suspiciously.

“your mo— wait, shit, we have the same mom,” he mutters, catching himself, and you scrunch your nose in disgust but can’t help the small smile that slips out.

“your crazy model friends?” you fold your arms again,tilting your head.

“yes, my crazy, stupid, but rich model friends,” he grins smugly, “just like me.”

you roll your eyes and turn around, flopping back onto the couch dramatically.

“oh, and jungkook’s coming over,” he says as he heads for the door.

your ears perk up immediately, and you shoot up, blurting, “why?”

“it’s the weekend. he’s gonna sleep over,” jimin replies casually, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. and to be fair, it kind of is— jungkook crashing at your place is pretty routine. but the thing is, he’s always here for jimin, not you. all you and jungkook do is bicker whenever he’s around.

“but you’re going out,” you frown, watching him open the door.

“bro, this is my house, i’m coming back of course. don’t worry,” he says, rolling his eyes like you’re being ridiculous.

“but i don’t—”

“shush,” he cuts you off, stepping outside. “i am gonna be late because of you. take care of the house and don’t fight with jungkook.”

before you can argue back, he’s out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

you stare at the door for a moment, then slump back onto the couch, muttering to yourself.

“yeah, like that’s fucking possible.”

it doesn’t take long for jungkook to show up. the front door swings open casually, and he walks in like he owns the place, not even sparing you a glance. he heads straight for the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water, chugging it down like he just ran a marathon.

must’ve worked out.

you hear his footsteps as he walks into the living room, where you’re sprawled out on the couch, pretending to ignore him. well, pretending to mind your own business, at least.

your eyes flick to him briefly, and yep, there he is— in those stupidly attractive gray sweatpants and a black compression shirt that clings a little too well to his body. if you look at him for too long, you’re pretty sure you’ll do something you’ll regret.

nope. not worth it. you’re supposed to be mad at him.

what is annoying, though, is how quiet he has been ever since that conversation with him a few days ago. jungkook isn’t supposed to be quiet around you. if anyone gets to ignore anyone here, it’s you.

selfish? maybe. but it’s just you and him.

it is what it is.

“get up,” he says, standing right beside the couch where your legs are sprawled out. “i need to sit.”

you glance at him briefly and then smile. “there’s plenty of space,” you say, your voice sickly sweet. “outside. in the garbage bin.” your smile drops as you finish the sentence, and his frown deepens, his brows pulling together in a way that— unfortunately, makes him look even better.

even hotter.

“i wanna watch the movie too,” he says, ignoring your jab.

“too fucking bad,” you retort, keeping your eyes on the tv.

the notebook plays on the screen, and for a second, you think of how much you and jimin love this movie and how you all used to watch this movie when you were younger (but old enough to watch it). jungkook always sat through it with the two of you, even though you know it’s not his thing.

“i just came back from the gym,” he starts, his voice edged with frustration. “i could use some rest.”

“go to the other room, then. use the bed to res— hey!”

you’re cut off mid-sentence as he grabs your legs, effortlessly lifting them up. before you can protest, he flips them off the couch, forcing you to sit up as he plops himself down beside you.

he leans back, completely unfazed, and looks at the screen. “thanks,” he says smugly.

“fuck face,” you mutter under your breath, glaring at him.

your hands itch to smack the smirk off his face, but you just huff and turn back to the movie, crossing your arms in annoyance.

you grab your phone, your fingers moving quickly as you text yumi because you genuinely have no idea what to do or say right now.

you: how can this mfker sit here and act like nothing happened!?

yumi <3: he's at yours!?!?

you: yeah, sleepover

yumi <3: where's ur bro

you: out

yumi <3: so u're alone tg 😈

you: help me bae. he's acting like i didn't literally say that i fucking want him?? what do i do

yumi <3: what u always do babe ,, provoke him.

you glance over at jungkook, still seated on the couch, his eyes glued to the screen. his jaw is clenched slightly, and your gaze trails down his arm, taking in his tattoos, the way his biceps flex subtly as he rests his hand on his thigh. and that’s when an idea hits you.

without a word, you get up and walk to your room. you don’t notice it, but his eyes flick to you as you leave. his gaze lingers for a second, curious, but he quickly forces himself to look back at the screen.

in your room, you swap your pants for a pair of shorts— really short shorts. short enough to reveal your thigh tattoo.

you glance at yourself in the mirror and adjust them slightly, smirking to yourself.

with newfound confidence, you stride back into the living room. jungkook is still on the couch, his attention glued to the movie. he doesn’t even glance your way when you enter— typical.

you catch sight of the clutter on the glass table in front of him: bowls and empty cups.

perfect.

you move around the couch approach the table from the other side so he can see the tattoo and start tidying up, picking up the bowls one by one, moving slowly, purposefully. you stretch your leg just slightly as you reach for the furthest one, your thigh tattoo now fully visible.

jungkook notices. and oh, you can tell by the quick flick of his eyes, the way his jaw tightens for just a second. but he doesn’t say a word, keeping his gaze locked on the screen like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

you hold back a frustrated sigh, heading to the kitchen to put the bowls away. when you return, he’s still pretending not to notice you, still sitting there as if nothing’s changed.

so fucking stubborn. for what, though?

you stop and take a deep breath, deciding to try again. this time, you walk directly in front of the tv, deliberately blocking his view as you pretend to move things around the room.

he frowns almost immediately. “move out of the fucking way,” he says, voice sharp and annoyed.

“can’t,” you say, keeping your tone light and casual. “i’m busy doing something.”

you cross the room again, back and forth, shifting random items like it’s the most important task right now.

“do it later,” he snaps, the irritation growing in his voice. “i’m watching this,, aren’t i?”

you scoff, turning on your heel to face him. “so fucking what? you’ve seen this movie like, a hundred times!”

he stares up at you, still frowning. “what the fuck do you want?” his tone is calm, too calm, but there’s an edge to it that makes your stomach flip.

you cross your arms, glaring at him. “you know what i want.”

he raises an eyebrow, his jaw clenching as he leans back into the couch. “do i?”

“yes,” you snap as you glare down at him. “don't act stupid, jungkook. you know exactly what the fuck i want.”

he exhales sharply through his nose, running a hand through his dark hair. “i don't know what the fuck you're talking about so just fucking say it.”

you scoff, your brows furrowing deeper. “i did say it. you’re the one pretending like it didn’t happen, like i didn’t tell you—”

“because you don’t mean it,” he cuts you off, his voice low but steady.

you take a step back, stunned for a moment. “what?”

he leans forward now, resting his palms on his knees, his gaze boring into yours. “you’re just doing this to fuck with me, to get a reaction. and congrats, you fucking got one. are you happy now?”

your throat tightens, but you refuse to let him see how much his words sting. “you think i didn’t mean it?”

he doesn’t answer immediately, just stares at you, like he’s trying to read your mind.

“if i didn’t mean it,” you say, your voice softer now, “then why would i keep doing this? why the fuck would i care?”

“because you like attention, don't you?” he shoots back, his words sharper than you expected. “taehyung, me, whoever gives it to you.”

your jaw drops, anger and disbelief flooding you. “you’re such a fuckin—”

“don’t,” he cuts you off again, standing up now, towering over you. “don’t act like i’m the bad guy here. you’re the one who started this.”

you stare up at him, your chest rising and falling as frustration bubbles over. but you recover quickly, masking the storm inside you with a smirk. tilting your head slightly, you ask, “started what exactly?” your tone is light, almost mocking, daring him to say it out loud.

jungkook’s jaw tightens, his gaze locked on yours. he doesn’t back down, but he doesn’t answer immediately either, like he’s weighing his next move. you can see it— the slight flare of his nostrils, the clench of his fists at his sides.

“don’t play with me, ___.” he finally says, his voice low and rough.

your smirk widens, pushing him further. “am i really? becuz all i see is you getting worked up over nothing.”

“nothing?” he scoffs, stepping closer, closing the already minimal distance between you. “you’ve been pushing me, fucking testing me? what the fuck is that about?”

you hold your ground, refusing to back away. “and? what are you gonna do about it, jungkook? keep avoiding it like you always do?”

he lets out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. “avoiding it? you’re fucking crazy. you think this is easy for me?”

“what’s not easy?” you press more, losing patience, your voice softening slightly. “tell me, jeon jungkook. what’s so hard for you?”

his eyes darken, his emotions clear on his face. “stop, ___.” he pauses. “stop pushing me before i—” he cuts himself off, shaking his head like he’s trying to regain control.

you feel your breath catch at his words, your heart pounding, but you don’t let it show. instead, you tilt your chin up, whispering, “no.. you need to stop fighting it, jungkook.” you lean in closer, your eyes never leaving his. “it's just you and me right now.”

for a moment, neither of you moves. the tension between you is palpable, electric, like something is about to snap. and this time, you’re not sure if you want to continue pushing him.

“shut the fuck up,” jungkook leans down, his breathe getting heavier

you smirk a little, whispering back, “fucking make me.”

and then suddenly he’s holding your jaw in his big, tattooed palm, his lips sear against yours kissing you with passion that you’ve always wanted to feel.

jungkook's hand tightens around your jaw as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with a desperate hunger. you moan into his mouth as he pulls you against his body, his other hand wrapping around your waist.

breaking away for a ragged gasp, jungkook lifts you effortlessly into his arms, kissing you again. you wrap your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair. he puts you down gently on the couch where he'd been sitting moments before. though there's nothing gentle about the way his hands roam over your curves, hiking your shirt up a little.

jungkook pulls back just enough to glare down at you, his breaths ragged, his jaw clenched. his dark eyes bore into yours.

"i hate you," he grits out. his hand grips your thigh, sliding up to press firmly against your skin, sending shivers through your body.

your lips curl into a smirk, your breath hitching as his grip tightens. “do you?” you whisper, your voice teasing, daring him to keep going.

his fingers dig into your thigh, his gaze flickering to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “yeah, cuz you're so fucking annoying. i hate you so fucking much,” he mutters, leaning down to press his lips against your neck, kissing and biting on your sensitive skin.

a soft moan escapes you, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as you arch into him. “yeah?” you breathe out, your smirk deepening. “i like knowing i get to you.”

his eyes snap to yours, his jaw tightening as he pulls your shorts down in one swift motion, revealing him your bare pussy. “so fucking bratty,” he mutters.

your breath hitches, your chest rising and falling as his fingers trace over the tattoo etched into your thigh, the one he gave you, the one that still turns him on whenever he thinks about how you teased him during the session.

you and your fucking mouth. he thinks.

his lips hover over your skin, his gaze fixed on the inked design before he lowers his head. his soft lips press against your hip, right where the tattoo starts.

his voice is quieter now, softer as he looks up at you. “does it still hurt?”

“so much,” you whisper, your voice shaky, but it’s clear your meaning has nothing to do with pain.

a smirk tugs at his lips, his eyes dark with intent as he begins kissing along the tattoo, lower and lower. each press of his lips sends a shiver through your body.

his hands grip your thighs firmly, holding you in place as his mouth continues its path, exploring every inch of your skin, lingering on the spots that make you squirm, but not touching the place you desparately need him to.

“you’re so quiet now, ___,” he murmurs against your thigh, his lips brushing over your skin. “what happened to that smart mouth of yours?”

you bite your lip, trying to hold back a sound. “fuck off,” you breathe out, your words make his smirk grow wider.

his hands grip your thighs, holding you open as his head moves fully between them. his eyes lock onto your bare pussy, and he curses under his breath.

he leans in, his tongue sliding in a long, slow stride over your folds, making your eyes flutter shut. a soft, needy moan escapes your lips, your body already trembling like you’ve been waiting for this moment forever.

because, well, you have.

his tongue moves through your folds with such a delicious rhythm, licking every inch of you. your breathing grows heavier with each stroke, his mouth exploring you like he’s memorizing every reaction.

when his tongue finds your clit, he flicks it expertly, a few quick strokes before sucking on it. the sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through you, your mind spiraling into a haze.

“fuck,” you whisper, barely able to form words as his mouth works wonders on you.

he doesn’t stop. his tongue continues to explore you, his lips wrapping around your clit again while his hand comes up to join the mix. two fingers slide over your slick folds before finding your clit, rubbing it in perfect rhythm with his tongue. when his mouth moves lower, licking at your entrance, your thighs quiver, and a sharp moan slips past your lips.

“this what you wanted?” he rasps, his voice rough as he glances up at you, his fingers still circling your clit. your back arches instinctively, your body responding to his touch, and you squirm under him, unable to keep still.

when you don’t answer fast enough, his hand lifts slightly before coming down with a sharp slap to your pussy. the sting makes you whimper, your eyes shooting open as he smirks.

“what’s wrong?” he taunts, his fingers rubbing over your folds soothingly. “for someone who bitches about everything, you're so fucking quiet now.”

he presses two fingers against your entrance, teasing you, his movements deliberate as your body tenses.

“wanna cum on my fingers?” he asks, his tone low, his thumb still rubbing lazy circles on your clit.

“y-yes,” you stammer, your voice shaky but desperate. “fuck yes, wanna cum on your fingers,” you moan, your body arching when you feel his fingers slide in.

“shit, look at you,” he groans, his voice rough as his fingers curl inside you, hitting the perfect spot. “dripping so good for me,”

your moan spills out involuntarily, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. your hand reaches out instinctively, gripping his that’s still holding your thigh, your touch shaky but needy.

his fingers pump in and out of you, his thumb pressing against your clit in perfect rhythm. the wet sounds of your pussy, with your breathless moans, echo in the room mixed with the movie still playing in the background; filling his head with even more desire. his eyes flicker down to the visible bulge in his sweatpants, hard and straining against the fabric as he takes in the sight of you.

“fuck,” he mutters under his breath, almost to himself, his movements never faltering. watching you like this; squirming, moaning, completely falling apart— does something to him he can’t ignore. he never thought it would actually come to this.

but he can’t deny it. he’s thought about it. more times than he’d ever admit. even when he tried to push those thoughts away, when he tried to convince himself it was wrong to see you like this, he could never stop. every time you provoked him, every time you pushed his buttons, it only made him think about it more.

and now? now he’s fucking gone. he loves this. he loves having you squirm beneath him.

“f-fuck, j-jungkook, so good!” you cry out, your voice trembling as your back arches off the couch. your brows pinch together, your lips parted, your entire body trembling under his touch. your eyes flutter shut, so close to rolling back, completely lost in the overwhelming sensation he’s giving you.

“yeah?” he breathes, his tone low and wrecked. “you look so fucking pretty like this, so fucking beautiful..” his pace quickens, his fingers pumping deeper, harder, pushing you closer and closer.

“that’s it, just like that,” he coaxes, as his fingers continue working inside you. his thumb presses firmly against your clit, circling it with just the right amount of pressure, driving you even closer to your release.

your breathing turns ragged, your body trembling beneath his touch as the heat coils tighter in your core. “j-jungkook, i’m gonna—”

“do it,” he murmurs, his gaze locked on your face, watching every expression, every twitch. “fucking cum for me,”

your body tenses, back arching. your walls clench around his fingers as your orgasm washes over you, waves of pleasure crashing through every nerve. you grip his wrist tightly, probably marking him, your thighs trembling as you ride out the high.

he slows his movements, letting you catch your breath, but he doesn’t pull away. instead, he watches you, his eyes dark and full of something you can’t quite place. he gently slips his fingers out, glistening with your release, and you watch, dazed, with your half-open eyes, as he brings them to his lips.

“fuck,” he mutters, licking his fingers clean, his tongue swirling around them as if savoring every taste of you. his gaze meets yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “you taste fucking divine.”

“jungkook,” you whisper, your voice shaky but soft, not entirely sure what to say.

but.. before you can say anything, your phone starts ringing. both of your heads snap to the table where it’s vibrating.

the contact name reads “hater,” which you both know means jimin.

your eyes flick to jungkook. his expression shifts, and his hands, which were so close to touching you again, retreat. he steps back, leaving you frowning and still catching your breath.

“shit…” he mutters, standing up quickly, like he's guilty. you push yourself up too, sitting on the couch, not caring about the mess or the fact that you're still half-naked.

“are you fucking serious right now?” you snap, your voice dripping with frustration.

he sighs deeply, rubbing a hand over his face. “just fucking pick it up.”

you scoff but grab your phone anyway, answering it and immediately putting it on speaker.

“what the fuck do you want?” you hiss.

“woah, who hurt you dumbass?” jimin’s voice is light, teasing.

you roll your eyes as jungkook silently fixes his clothes, avoiding your gaze.

“what is it?” you ask, your tone sharper than you intended.

“tell jungkook i’ll be late,” jimin says casually. “i texted him, but he wasn’t answering.”

jungkook looks around, realizing he left his phone on the kitchen counter earlier.

“is that all, brother?” you say, your voice dripping with fake sweetness, emphasizing the last word

“yeah, sister,” jimin replies mockingly, playing along. “go to sleep, it’s late, and don’t worry about jungkook.”

“care about your stupid model friends instead,” you mutter and hang up before he can say more.

jungkook exhales heavily, picking up your shorts from the floor. he places them gently on your lap, covering you, though he avoids looking at you entirely.

“what now? you’re just going to do nothing?” you demand, your voice rising with frustration.

“shut up, ___,” he says, his tone low. “we went too far. we need to stop. it’s better that we—”

“don’t tell me to shut it!” you snap, your voice breaking slightly. “you liked it just as much as i did! and—” you point at his pants, your eyes narrowing. “you’re still fucking hard, so don’t act like it didn’t mean anything.”

he groans, pressing his palm to his face. “just fucking get dressed. go to sleep.” he sighs. “we’re done here. don’t ever bring this up again.”

his words feel like a slap to the face.

“you’re just gonna walk away?” you askbut he doesn’t respond.

jungkook grabs his phone from the kitchen, heading for the front door.

“where are you even going?” you demand, anger and hurt swirling in your chest.

“out. need to cool off,” he says without looking back and walks out, the door shutting behind him.

you sit there, staring at the door.

this hurts. so. fucking. much.

what the fuck is his problem?

you want to scream, to fight, to get some kind of answer out of him, but he’s gone.

this was not okay. you can't forgive him. too fucking far.

you fucking hate jungkook.

note: wait ngl lmao i think i had a little too much fun w this ,, even though i was crying & trying to make the smut part even better 🥴

no series taglist !!

💌 permanent taglist: @annyeongbitch7 @internetrando64 @jkvias @lovieku @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @onlyforyoukook @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @jaytheatiny @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @genevieveeeee

@134340-kr @mar-lo-pap @fluttershypoo @kyuupii @https-mei @elinaki92 @jungkookmyoneandonlybaby @hoseokteardrop @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @jaykay-world @jmscaffeine @libra04 @beigerin @nikidream24 @svnbangtansworld @mimi1097 @kookoo-kachoo @junecat18 @iheartchanelle @rrosiitas @jjeonjjk7 @remgeolli @ty-moy-ya-tvoy @rpwprpwprpwprw

[luvst4rc0r3]

OMG I LOVE UR FANFICS!!

PLZ WRITE MORE SERIES!!

Can you write (if you want) a jinx x f!reader were reader’s first language is not English but another language. And she has a son whose first language is English and he always complains about taking classes. So jinx pulls them out of classes and that makes reader very mad. (basically Gloria from modern family)

It can be any language just ofc not English

TYY IF YOU DO IT

OMG I LOVE THIS REQUEST!!!

I did it in my native language. English is my first but Tagalog (Filipino)is kinda my second asides from Spanish. I can kinda of speak Tagalog just not fluently.

“Lost in translation”

Jinx x F!Reader

WC: 1427

NOTE: established relationship. I did have to use google translate for some words so it might not be grammatically correct.

THIS ALSO MIGHT BE MY LAST FANFIC FOR A COUPLE DAYS BC I HAVE MIDTERMS

“Jinx, what the hell were you thinking?”

You stood in the center of the small apartment, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. Jinx leaned against the counter, her casual stance a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside you.

“I was thinking the kid hates it,” she shot back with a shrug, twirling a wrench in her hand. “Why make him sit through something that makes him miserable?”

Your heart clenched. “He needs to learn it. He needs to—” You hesitated, stumbling over your words as your thoughts tripped over each other, fighting to come out in English. “It’s important for him to know… to understand—”

Jinx rolled her eyes, her tone dismissive. “He’s a kid. He doesn’t need a million things crammed into his head. He’s fine just the way he is.”

“Fine?” you echoed, your voice trembling. “Jinx, it’s not just about school. It’s about him knowing who he is. Who I am. You think it’s easy for me, being stuck in the middle of two languages all the time?”

She frowned, her smirk faltering for the first time. “I didn’t say it was easy—”

“You didn’t even ask me!” you interrupted, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “You just pulled him out without even thinking about what it means!”

Jinx tilted her head, her electric blue eyes narrowing. “He’s my kid too, y’know. I’m not trying to hurt anyone. I just didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Her words hit you like a slap, and suddenly, the English words you’d been clutching at fell away, leaving nothing but raw emotion. Your chest heaved, and before you knew it, tears blurred your vision.

Jinx’s face shifted, the confidence draining from her expression. “Hey, whoa, babe, don’t cry—”

But you couldn’t stop. The frustration and exhaustion, the endless translating in your head, the constant feeling of being misunderstood—it all came pouring out in a language she didn’t understand.

“Ang hirap na hirap na ako, Jinx. Hindi mo naiintindihan. Hindi mo alam kung gaano kasakit na hindi ko masabi nang maayos ang nararamdaman ko.” (I'm in such a difficult situation, Jinx. You don't understand. You don't know how much it hurts that I can't express my feelings properly.)

You covered your face with your hands, your body shaking with sobs. “I just want him to know me,” you managed to choke out, your voice breaking. “I want him to understand me without me having to fight for every word.”

Jinx froze, the wrench clattering to the floor. She stepped closer, unsure and unsteady, like she was walking on glass.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice low and raw with something you didn’t hear from her often—guilt.

You didn’t respond, your tears falling harder. Jinx reached out, her gloved hand hesitating before resting on your knee.

“I thought I was making things better for him. I didn’t think about how it would hurt you.”

You sniffled, shaking your head but still unable to look at her. “It does not just hurt, Jinx,” you whispered, the words coming out shakily. “It’s… I’m tired. I’m tired of fighting with my own head, trying to make everything make sense in English just so I can talk to you, or him, or anyone.”

Jinx’s hand tightened slightly, grounding you, as if to say she was listening.

“I just… I feel like I don’t belong anywhere,” you continued, your voice cracking. “Not here. Not at home. And now, our son… he doesn’t even want to learn the one thing that connects him to where I come from. To me. And you just let him quit. You made the decision like it didn’t matter.”

Your words hung in the air, heavy and raw. Jinx’s usual chaotic energy had vanished; she looked like someone had ripped the ground out from under her.

“I didn’t know,” she said after a moment, her voice soft but steady. “Of course you didn’t. You never think of anyone except yourself” with that you slammed the door to your shared room with her.

—

You stood in the doorway, your bag slung over your shoulder. Your hands shook as you clutched the strap, the heaviness in your chest unbearable. Jinx stood across the room, her wild hair and mismatched clothes somehow looking smaller, like she didn’t know what to do with herself

“Wait,” she said, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “You’re leaving?”

You nodded, your throat tightening as tears threatened to spill again. “I just… I need space, Jinx. I need time to think.”

Her brows furrowed, her lips parting like she wanted to argue, but no words came. For once, Jinx didn’t fight. She just stood there, the chaos in her usually vibrant eyes dimmed by something deeper.

“I love you,” you said, your voice breaking, “but I can’t keep doing this if you don’t try to understand. It’s too much.”

The silence in the room was deafening, and when you finally stepped out and closed the door behind you, it felt like your heart was breaking in two.

The days passed slowly. You stayed at a friend’s place, letting the quiet moments give you the space to breathe. But no matter how hard you tried, thoughts of Jinx and your son kept creeping in. The weight of the fight lingered in your chest, heavy and unresolved.

You told yourself you just needed a little more time. That maybe Jinx would realize how important this was—not just to you, but to your family.

And then, three days after you left, you came home.

The apartment was quiet when you walked in, and for a moment, you wondered if she was even there. But then you heard it.

“Kamusta.”(Hello)

You froze, your bag slipping from your shoulder as you turned toward the sound. Jinx stood in the middle of the living room, her hands fidgeting nervously with the hem of her shirt.

“What?” you asked, your heart pounding.

She cleared her throat, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and determination. “Kamusta,” she said again, the word clumsy but recognizable. “That means… uh, hello? Right?”

You blinked, stunned. “Y-yeah.”

Her lips twitched into a small, nervous smile. “I’ve been trying,” she said, stumbling over the words. “I… I looked up some stuff. It’s… hard, but I wanna learn. I wanna…”

She trailed off, her electric blue eyes meeting yours with a rare vulnerability. “Ayaw ko… um…” She fumbled for a moment, clearly struggling to remember the phrase. “Ayaw kong… mag-translate ka… araw-araw.” (I don’t…I don’t want you to have to translate everyday)

Your heart clenched at the effort in her voice, the way she fought through every syllable. “I don’t… I don’t want you to have to translate every day. I love you,” she added in English, her voice shaking slightly.

Tears welled in your eyes as you took a step closer. “Jinx…” you smile widely, “now you’re the one who looks like an idiot!”

She chuckles softly but soon returns to her straight face. “I’m serious, okay? I… I’m not good at this, but I’m gonna try. I’ll keep learning. And he’s gonna learn, too. I already talked to him. Told him he’s sticking with it. I don’t care how much he complains—I’ll sit with him if I have to. We’ll both learn.”

You couldn’t stop the tears now, your hand flying to your mouth as you let out a shaky breath.

“I didn’t get it before,” she continued, her voice soft but steady. “But I do now. I don’t want you to feel like you’re doing this alone. Or like we don’t see you—really see you. You shouldn’t have to fight for that.”

She hesitated, then stepped closer, her hands reaching for yours. “I’ll learn Tagalog for you. For us. Because I love you. And I don’t wanna lose you.”

A sob broke free from your chest as you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close. Her arms tightening around you, and for the first time in days, you felt like you could finally breathe again.

“Salamat,” you whispered through your tears. (Thank you)

Jinx chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Walang anuman. That’s how you say ‘you’re welcome,’ right?”

You laughed, your heart aching in the best way. “Yeah. That’s right.”

Her grin widened, a little of her usual spark returning. “Told ya. I’m a fast learner.”

And in that moment, as the weight in your chest began to lift, you believed her. Together, you’d figure it out.

for once, her chaos felt like home.

TYY whoever requested that!! That was such and interesting requests to write!!

I want food

[wachtelspinat]

do you have any advice, resources or practices you recommend for making your art more expressive? I adore how you push expressions and body language, and the way it keeps its weight is phenomenal! I wanna learn how to do that, too!

hey thank you so much <3

one of the most important things that i've learned on my way and that i've kept in my mind ever since is what makani states in [this post] sometimes i go into a drawing and just try to construct it bit by bit, only to realize that the eyes don't fit the mouth etc... then i remember to treat it all as ONE expression and (second very important lesson incoming) i erase everything and start anew (i know it feels bad to just delete a sketch of a head (you don't have to delete it right away, you can always just take another layer) but believe me it not only saves you tons of time, you also learn more when you just start over from scratch. the thing i do is as follows, i keep the bad sketch open and try to figure out what i don't like about it, and put extra focus in those areas in the new sketch. like i think the eyes were too dull in the first try? the solution is to draw them open even wider, turn up that expression a nodge, try to "bend" it). i know this sounds exhausting, you might think isn't it easier to just try to fix the first sketch? i thought so too for many years, but believe me, if you don't like it, start a new one. you will always be amazed on how good it can turn out (and, as said before, the benefit of analyzing your own art and trying to figure out what went wrong and fixing it in a new attempt is HUGE.)

third thought on this is "don't be afraid to push the boundaries". like i grew up being a huge ren & stimpy fan as a kid, i love classic cartoons, i love exagerated expressions so much, eyes popping out, sweat drops flying around, over the top visualisation of feelings. that's my shit (pizza tower i'm looking at you). then on the other hand i also love things feeling palpable and real, hence the weird mix of my style i guess... what i want to say is: don't be afraid to push your expressions a bit. not only is it fun, with the right balance it really adds to it all (in regards of body language and facial expressions likewise).

and last but not least, so important: use references. i often take photos of myself doing weird gestures just to see how the mouth or the eyes would look like for a specific expression, how the nose wrinkles, how the shoulder come up when trying to visualize that someone is tense etc etc. use ref, please, not only photos but also drawings, try to figure out how other artists translate certain gestures in their art, how can you stylize this (everything ofc without copying directly from them... like for personal practice everything is cool and chill, but respect the rules of the artist community)

it is hard to pinpoint down how everything we do in our art lives comes down to what we draw at the end of the day, like everything i post, how it looks, is the result of almost 2 decades of drawing with a purpose, but i hope this helps a bit.

[rhyrhy]

You should do basketball Abby/ blue collar Abb (if u want ofc)

OMGG I LOVEE blue collar Abby! She’s so sweetness 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 Ty for the request this was so fun!

Blue collar Abby! Head cannons 💐

MDNI

Blue-collar Abby! who, when she first met you, found anyyy excuse to swing by your workplace. Yes, even if it meant running late elsewhere. just to catch a small glimpse of you. Wondering what outfit you were wearing today or how you styled your hair. She'd literally carve out 15 minutes in her day, hoping this time she'd actually work up the courage to talk to you.

Blue-collar Abby! who isn’t exactly subtle about her crush, flat-out asked for your work schedule to see you outside of your job. When you gave her your number, she left with the biggest grin and pep in her step. Taking mental notes on your jewelry preferences-gold or silver, simple or flashy. Why? Because:

Oh, she’s absolutely going to marry you.

Blue-collar Abby! purposefully rests her hand on the small of your back or your hips when she's scooting past, murmuring a soft "Scuse me, baby." Oh, She knows exactly what she's doing. knowing it drives you nuts and would be thinking about her hand placement for the next 30 minutes. holding back a smile as she goes on about her day.

Blue-collar Abby! Who texts with "😂”completely unironically and uses "😭” when she's actually upset about something. Yeah, At this point, you've just accepted it as her texting language.

Blue-collar Abby! loves being pampered when she allows it. Big spoon? Hell no. She'd much rather feel your chest pressed against her back, her free hand caressing your thigh draped over hers. She'll quietly and rarely vent about work while you listen. Other times she enjoys the quiet of the moment.

Blue-collar Abby! Lets her hair get frizzy or even messes it up on purpose just so you'll redo it for her. She isn't shy about asking, but the first time you offered to fix it, she was immediately hooked. Now she's secretly hoping you'll pick up on it without her saying anything. (Okay, maybe she's a little embarrassed to ask. She's a grown woman, after all.)

Blue-collar Abby! Who absolutely makes you count out loud when she spanks you. If you're not loud enough , or worse, skip a number-she'll restart the count. And no, you don't get a second to catch your breath. Biting her lip at the sight of your underwear around your thighs and slightly damp since you not so secretly grown to like her punishments. The ‘ouch’s’ quickly turn into muffled moans. Feeling your ears burn with slight embarrassment..yet she notices that you keep messing up the numbers.

Blue-collar Abby! is an emotional wreck at the thought of starting a family with you. The second you told her you were ready to find a donor and start trying, she burst into tears. She cupped your face, nodding frantically, whispering promises to rub your feet and dote on you through the entirety of the nine months.

Blue-collar Abby! loveeees lying on your chest, her braid draped over your shoulder as she traces random shapes into your skin. A satisfied sigh escapes her lips as she daydreams about all the years you're going to spend together. She’s so in love.

Blue-collar Abby! who awkwardly scoots into the bathroom while you're brushing your teeth, wrapping her arms around you from behind. As she finally asks "…Redo my hair for me, please?"

——-

We love our sweet girl Abby!

[stellar-solar-flare]

S T E V E R O G E R S

This list has all my Steve Rogers works, sorted by length (longfic, oneshot, drabble/headcanon). I have noted down which ones have an AU version of Steve - works with just 'Steve' are about the Avenger we know and love. All my work is for 18+ only but stories have ratings based on their specific content.

MAIN MASTERLIST | AO3

Beautiful star dividers by @steviebbboi, thank you.

L O N G F I C S:

A Fairytale Of A Disaster | Steve x Doctor!Reader | Explicit

Reader has been stood up by her Valentine's Date. Or has she? Romance, fluff, meet-cute, hurt/comfort. COMPLETE, 4/4.

Brilliant Steel (AO3) | Steve Rogers x OFC, platonic Bucky & OFC | Explicit

The AI Head Strategist, Captain Steve Rogers's world implodes as a wave of inexplicable, supernatural events washes over the globe. The problem: the brilliant mind that might be the key to solving all this belongs to a woman Steve once scorned, and she won’t be happy to find him standing at her doorstep. In an effort to save the world, Steve and Bucky team up with a woman that Steve once thought would be much more than a teammate. In a universe much more vast and stranger than anyone ever thought, they’ll have to learn to rely on each other — wits and gifts and weirdness and all — to keep said world on its rails. WIP - 5/x chapters published.

For Centuries (AO3)| emperor!Steve x Stark!princess!Reader | Explicit

As you, the only daughter of King Howard Stark, arrive at the court of Emperor Steven the Righteous to be wedded and crowned the Empress of the Centurial Empire, your husband-to-be is not what you expected. This is a 'From Political Marriage to Love Marriage' story, featuring lots of romantasy elements, court politics, and protective, righteous Emperor Steve Rogers. The slowest of burns. WIP - 19/x chapters published.

Equinox (AO3)| soft dark!mob boss!Steve x superpowered!Reader | Explicit

When you’re caught in the crossfires of a war brewing underground, Steve does what he has to. And as you get pulled deeper into his world, it may very well turn out that starlight can scorch, too. A dark romance story about a woman scorned and a man who is so much more than he seems. WIP, 10/x chapters published.

Volatile | Steve x scientist!Avenger!Reader | Explicit

Reader has been subjected to an aphrodisiac while on a mission. Steve and the medical team attempt to find a solution. Smut with feelings, eventual fluff, eventual happy ending. COMPLETE, 3/3.

O N E S H O T S:

Cinderella Magic | Steve Rogers x Reader | T+

The entire thing had been like something out of a movie, starting from how Steve – to you just Steve, one of the regulars at the bookshop you ran – had barged into the store yesterday and blurted out that he desperately needed a date. Fluff, romance, friends-to-lovers. 828 words.

Every Bit As Magical | Steve x Avenger!Reader | G

When the car stopped, and Steve went round to open the door for you and help you out, you were practically bursting with curiosity. Tumblr Prompt: "Steve Rogers + a day at Disneyland?" Fluff, romance, established relationship. 567 words.

Malogranatum | soft dark!Avenger!Steve Rogers x mob boss!Reader | Explicit

“You know there are lines I do not cross,” you said. Tumblr prompt: "Steve + Mob AU + ”Would you really do that for me?” + nefarious." Dark romance with themes of obsessive love. AU - canon divergence & mob themes. 2,417 words.

Warmth | Steve x chronically ill!Reader | Mature

Steve is the most caring husband and the best heating pad in the world. Even on the bad days when you don't feel easy to love. Hurt/comfort, established relationship, protective Steve Rogers. 1,771 words.

Worthy | Steve Rogers x Reader | Mature

You and Steve Rogers have been dating for a year. When a journalist is out to get you, you will have to stand together and come out stronger. Romance, angst with a happy ending, fluff & hurt/comfort, protective Steve Rogers. Reader has past trauma and unspecified mental health issues. 2,045 words.

H E A D C A N O N S & D R A B B L E S

kink headcanons for different versions of Steve | Explicit

fall-themed dates with Steve headcanons | Mature

getting ready for a Halloween Party with Steve | T+

coming home to Steve after a long day | G

tempting Steve at a Halloween Party | T+

a 3-sentence fic about Steve being a good dad | G

[milkwaydreams]

My conclusion after EP 13 for Perfect 10 Liners is: I LOVE FAIFA! 😍

He is so F extra, I really love him 🤣 And the way Junior portrays him is so cute, I have no idea how many times I said "I love Faifa" during this whole episode 🤣🤭 I'm really curious to know more about him and his traumas. I feel he tries to be friend of everyone and help them either because he himself don't wanna feel lonely or abandoned again, or don't want the others to feel lonely like he did. I really don't know but I'm dying to learn about it 🤔 Hope I continue to like him in his story please 😃🤣

Also, I love how EVERYONE in that class began to mock Yotha and Gun when they began the whole tie scene right there in the front. If you look at the extras, even them are making the "Do my tie" gesture and I quacked when I noticed that🤣🤣 The friendship mockery on this whole series is my favorite part, help 🤣🤣

AND THE WAY GUN HIDES BEHIND FAIFA IS SO CUTE. He feels safe with Faifa, he goes to him and opens up, breaks down crying in front of Fai, that's what I call trust and I love it. Also Fai protecting Gun from Yotha cause he don't want Yotha to hurt Gun anymore... I love him... I can't, that's too sweet 😭😭😭

And Junior showing that he can indeed act serious too and not just goofy, ooh, I love to see that🤭🤭🤭

About Warit and Klao, really can't talk on their matter cause, it just hits too close to home... I've been in the EXACT SAME situation as Warit and my way out of it was shitty af so, I don't even know how to react to watching what happened to me as a viewer cause I'll always lean more for Warit cause I FULLY understand him...

So I'm just gonna talk about the slap. I'm SURE that that slap hurt 100% more than any of the punches Klao took the whole episode. I vocalized a loud "OH SHIT" the moment I heard the sound. And I liked that Warit did that cause it was effective in a way that talking at that moment wouldn't be as Klao was completely out so the slap was like a reboot in the system 🤣🤣🤣 I think things will begin to move forward to them now cause they actually talked about it, Warit expressed how he actually feels about Yotha so, it should work from now (I HOPE, PLEASE 😃)

And then, Santa crying... OMG, THAT WAS GOOD SCENES. It sounds sad saying it like this but I swear I mean good🤣🤣

I was/am impressed at the way he cries cause he KNOWS how to cry. The way his voice shakes when he speaks, his whole body flinching, I don't know if I'm the only one that felt this but I was genuinely impressed. If you tell me that he was crying for real and not acting there, I'd fully believe you 😭😭😭😭

And let me tell you, I went 😮 when Yotha kissed Warit like... I was not expecting it😃 First of all, "OMG, PERTHBOOM" that was my stupid head first thought😃🤣🤣 Then I went "Noo, don't do this to me... Don't make he still like Warit..." and I KNEW GUN WAS GONNA SEE THAT, OFC HE WOULD😃😃

But please... My baby is pretty and looks good even crying but... Let's not make him cry this much anymore, please 😃😃😃 SPARE MY POOR HEART😭😭😭😭

And the preview... I'm scared actually. Wait for him why?! Why Yotha?! Wait what?! What do you mean?! Come back here and explain right now 😃 And now we will get the beach YothaGun scenes from the trailer so, that plus the "Wait for me" made me really go "???????"

Ahh... These series... Why can't they just be released all together so I binge everything and be happy?! 😃😃😃

+ I have too much of rot in my brain cause in the bar scene, Lykn's May I? plays in the background and all I could pay attention to was the song and that it was Lykn... I need rehab from them atp, this is an addiction 😃😃🤣🤣🤣🤣

[valentine-cafe]

Hello!! Hope the both of you are having a good day! 🫶🫶First time requesting sorry if I’m not doing this right 😓

Could I please order a rhubarb and strawberry crumble? (Gn reader)

Reader just wanting to braid his long hair because why is he so pretty?? Ofc can’t forget to pepper him in a lot of kisses too 🫶

(Side note: I love your works so much I can spend hours just consuming them like a 3 star michelin meal 🫶🫶🫶 the primordial husbands have such a chokehold on me 😔)

˖⁺. ﹙ serpent god x gn reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . tender hands !! 🍒 :  corrupt god �� siren﹙ verse 164 talisen. ﹚

braiding copper's hands <3

“You’re soooo pretty,”

Your croon into his ear elicits a sparkle to his copper eyes. Sly teeth that often flash sinister grins now pull into a tender smile. His gaze meets yours through the mirror. An exchange of love. Mildness.

“Truly, dearest?”

His lips grace your hand and put feathers to shame. Kissing along much like the peering of sun ways through shimmered window planes. His softness mirrors the feel of his hair. Your fingers rake through a few times, intertwining strand bunches over one another to create a long pattern down his neck and spine.

Every now and then, you retreat from the silky tresses to pluck a flower from your humble basket. Through the threads it goes, tucked along one of the crevices of his long, dark hair. An array of sunkissed daffodils and delilahs climbing down the braid you skillfully work at.

“The prettiest,” you muse. Gifting him your lips to his neck. Once, twice, until he groans and cradles his head on your shoulder. “My beautiful rhytaari.” His brow is perfect for your thumb to stroke. And so he shuts his eyes, enjoys your ever-glowing presence.

He’ll indulge your affection. What is he if not a greedy god? His lips search for yours, alas you tug at a strand of his hair playfully and giggle at his grunt. “Hold still. You’ll ruin the braid.”

“Oh how you wound me.” His deep voice caresses like the soothe of waters upon the riverbank. Nevertheless, he will remain patient until the final piece of hair is tucked neatly.

Until your lips are on his cheeks — so that his might find them in a series of shared laughs and sweet kisses.

[justhereforsubsevika]

tw, sorry if this is a little sensitive but can you do one where sevika deals with a suicidal reader? I've been going thru alot recently and it would be nice to have a fic abt it ^^

TW mentions of SH and suicidal thoughts/attempts

Yes ofc, sorry if this is inaccurate to anyone, I'm drawing from my own experience here

"Oh honey, I..." Sevika looks down at your wrist. You cringe and look away, look anywhere, a pit in your stomach that deepens, seems to hollow out and drain you of your insides. "It's nothing, I'm fine," you attempt, but tears prick at your eyes before you can stop them. You can't retract your arm because Sevi's holding it there, her strength prevailing over yours. "It's not... baby did I do something?"

The question breaks you, has you crumpling to the ground. Of course she'd blame herself, everything's always her fault. She joins you on the floor, bundling you up in her arms. You feel tears fall onto the top of your head, her lips pressing kisses wherever she can manage. You can tell she's panicking, and it makes the hole in your stomach worsen.

"Can you tell me-"

"Can we not... can we not talk about it. Just this moment." You say weakly, your tears gathering on her shoulder. She huffs out a breath, tucking your head into her neck. "I'll make some tea. Go lay down baby."

*****

She flicks on the lights in the bedroom and sits at the foot of the bed, handing you a mug filled with your perfect brew. You smile at how well she knows you, the colour just right, the sweetness perfect.

"Tell me?" She tries, offering you a comforting smile.

"I just... I haven't been feeling right... again... and I'm... I just think, maybe.... you know... it'd be easier if I just... If I wasn't around." You say it so quietly, so slowly, you're unsure if you were even intelligible. She nods and sets your cups down onto the nightstand, gathering you up in her arms again like she has to prove to herself that you are, infact, still around. She stays like this for a while, swaying you gently, staring into space.

"Baby," she starts, her voice catching in her throat, "I can't lose you. Maybe that's the most selfish thing to say to someone who wants to... yeah, well, if my being selfish keeps you around then I'm going to be selfish. I need to hear that stupid laugh when I tell a dad joke that doesn't land with anyone but you. I need to smell burning in the morning of every valentines because you've attempted to cook. I need to feel obligated to take a picture of every cat I see on my way to and from work." She sighs and turns to look at you.

"I have lost so much fucking family," tears start to roll down her cheeks, "you and Vi are all I have. I will do anything to keep you with me. I don't care if I have to stay up 24 hours a day to ensure you're not hurting yourself. I don't care if I have to follow you around like your shadow. Baby, you can't leave me. You're the most precious thing I know."

You sob into her chest, body wracked with guilt that you've put her through this. "I'm sorry, Sevi honey I'm so sorry,"

"Don't apologise, don't you fucking dare apologise. I'm so proud of you for telling me honey, now I know, now we can get help can't we?" You nod against her and hold her closer. You know she won't make it all better, make it all go away, but you feel slightly more whole knowing she'll be there to lift you up, there to hold your hand.

If you're in the UK you can contact Switchboard to talk about these thoughts, they're an lgbtq+ charity so will suit your needs if that's what's brought on your feelings.

There are tons of places to call. And I know you feel alone, G-d do I know that feeling, but you aren't. You have people who care about you. You have one in me. G-d bless and stay safe sweetheart.

[pricegouge]

how we feel about call of duty kaiju horror?

(I’m watching a Godzilla movie tonight so✨)

-🫀

it's the fact that you knew exactly what you were doing with each keystroke that's killing me here

vibrating at a speed imperceptible to the human eye: i feel pretty normal about it.

okay i'm at a low point mental-health-slash-hope-in-the-world wise rn which means ofc i've been thinking about my sweet baby puppy, godzilla, a lot recently. just something about a larger than life monster of our own making come to visit hell upon us that's rather apt, you know?

so originally i was just gonna ramble about that as a response to this - and how easily you could plug an elite squad of soldiers into that formula, make them the focus as they fight back against the kaiju. do it kinda like shin godzilla, maybe, where it's more a procedural than anything to highlight the incompetence of their orders - the us versus them, versus it; where the pieces are government/military officials, civilians, and of course the kaiju. and then bring it back around to what they have to resort to to actually get the job done. trusting the people most effected by the actions of their overhead, and all that. which i'm super into, but knew wouldn't necessarily have made for a good fic. and then beloved @stellewriites did what she does best and seduced me into writing a little snippet after suggesting the focus be more on the after-effects, like a cloverfield situation.

and she was fucking right, but unfortunately that's not what i ended up doing here because i saw kaiju horror and blanked out a bit writing an action scene lmao.

shelling, active fire, hand to hand combat. nothing prepares you for something like this.

hell, even falling out of a hele hadn't been this bad - hadn't instilled within him this fear, just before drop, all kitted out and ready for action. as if anything on their persons could actually defend them from the screeching behemoth below. offense had been unofficially deemed hopeless. not even the stealth bombers had done any good, their blast zones only succeeding in creating more debris, more shrapnel. more rubble to bury the first wave of casualties.

they'd been assured there wouldn't be any more bombing, not while there were boots on the ground trying to minimize the growing death toll, guiding the frantic packs of terrified civilians looking for refuge.

gaz was fairly sure they had told the first deployment the same thing.

it's a struggle not to assess his team, so he doesn't fight it. takes in their expressions as they hang out the open side of the blackhawk, faces underlit by flame and heat. they look grim, worse than he's ever seen them. but cap's voice is still his standard surly growl over the comms when he tells nik to bring them closer to the… thing.

ghost is the only one brave enough to question him. "price?"

"just want a better look," the captain grumbles, as if the scale of it could even allow for some sort of misunderstanding.

"it's a big ass lizard, cap," gaz supplies, unable to hold his tongue as the creature looms closer, nik's steady hand bringing the hele up and over its head, outside of the range of its relatively short arms. "what more do you need to see?"

price eyes him, chill of his gaze turned gunmetal in the thin light. a warning. "don't know enough about it to be fightin' it."

"are we fightin' it then, cap?" soap, borderline hopeful. like he thinks he can save the world with a well-placed sticky bomb, even after everything he's seen.

"you saw what it did in pari -!"

price cuts him off. "might have to. should know more about it."

like it's got an achilles' heel they'll be able to spot while dropping, their flare lights casting a grim red glow over the mountainous mass of plates and scales. they ring it as best they can - a valiant effort to keep their paracords untangled. from each other, from the mess of wires clinging to the skeleton frames still standing. from it. gaz lucks out, manages to draw its head. his flare light casts eerie shadows on the smoke behind it, jagged cuts of spiny bone that reach like fingers skyward, as if to pluck the circling hele from the air like no more than a noisome fly hanging over head. there's a gradual slope across a heavy brow, its face wide-set and surprisingly flat, as if evolution knew it wouldn't be snuffling around in the dirt for food no matter what hellish recesses of the earth it had crawled out of. he sees the teeth first, blanched and deadly in a mouth that gapes slightly, soft pink tissue glinting with drool in the wan, flickering light. the shape of it seems to shift in the smoke, disorienting in its incomprehensibility. gaz tracks the nose - up, in, across -

the eye rolls, a ring of sclera giving it an unexpected humanity. it's beady, the iris the same dark, muddy sort of gray that blends with the rest of its plating. defensive evolutionary traits. against what, gaz did not want to know. it flickers red and orange in the light. alive, wary. a thick nictitating membrane draws back, reveals a depth of color which can't quite hide the pupil - nor the way it dilates, trained on him.

it ducks his head as he falls, assessing just as much as gaz is. he reaches for his gun, automatic, and the ridge of brow above its eyes twitches, lowers. there's a series of pops, loud enough to hear even above the thunder of air in his ears, and then a light flickers to life in its gullet, electric blue and feeble in its infancy.

debrief hadn't mentioned bioluminescence. he decides he does not want to be the first one to find out what that's about.

tipping himself forward, he propels himself faster. his angle widens, brings him around the creature's side a bit, out of its field of view. he follows along its broad flank, dipping past huge, clawed hands which curl as if in disgust as he passes. he pulls his chute somewhere around its hip, tries to plot his land despite his general lack of visibility. he's just settled on a gap in the buildings up ahead when the air stirs, a quick updraft that rocks him where he hangs, sending smoke swirling as something slices through it, maybe twenty meters above the ground. he keeps his eyes peeled for another jumper, cautious about mixed lines even though he should still be well away from soap's position.

but it's not another jumper. he sees it first in the reflection of a busted window, shatter-proof glass left hanging concave in its frame. light catches in it, a sporadic wisp refracting through the crumple points, pulsing with movement. electric blue.

he casts about for its source, finds it off to his right. it slips through the air like a knife, smooth and deadly enough to have him running through a list possible drone types he may have run afoul of. he comes up short, though he wouldn't be surprised to learn they'd resorted to test tech. last thing he needs, though he doesn't start to seriously worry until another one appears, just slightly larger, moving in sync with the first. they arch out and around to his left just as another flickers to light directly before them. again, slightly larger than the last - though maybe a little bit closer to it as well.

the next one is heralded by a quiet humming, low enough he thinks he's imagining things until his feed starts crackling with static. he pulls his cords so he can face it more fully, and the chain of lights whip away from him, circle back behind the creature with enough force to shift the air again, unexpected draft pulling him up, up.

the beast faces him, turned fully with a deadly kind of silence kyle hadn't expected. its mouth hangs agape, faint blue light leaking from between its teeth, painting the surrounding smoke blue until it looks like xenon breath, just as fatal. the aura seems to build around it, and it takes gaz much too long to realize its being backlit, the strange lights gathering behind it until the smoke all around glows blue and white and it bows, sinks to his level with an open maw. the light in its throat crystallizes into a cold white while building in intensity, lock step with the intimidation display climbing over its shoulders, the massive plates there flickering to life, veined with phosphorescence.

he'd be nowhere in life if he hadn't learned to listen - when needed, at least.

suspended as he is, his options are limited. he yanks at cords that do nothing, the air gone so still in the creature's deadly silence that it won't even let him fall. like a vacuum, just waiting for the collapse.

"fuck. shit," he hisses, panic building.

the thing shakes its head, an audible rumble building alongside the deafening hum of static. gaz pulls his emergency release and feels his stomach fall before he does, tumbling away after it with flailing limbs, unable to even right himself into a controlled dive before he's catching his full weight on his shoulder, the composite hull of a hele groaning under his mass before the world tilts sideways once more, flops him onto his stomach where his cheek grinds into dirt and metal runners.

"flare!" a thick accent calls from over head, and kyle has just enough wits about him to recognize that the thick trail of red crawling along the floor of the hele is coming from him. he draws a knee up, hands swatting uselessly at himself in search of the strap that keeps the flare tied to his ankle, smoke filtering through his mask until he's -

it's hard to tell what happens first, the blinding light or the g-force which crashes into the hele from above - pushes it down even as he stays in place, colliding with the ceiling hard enough to knock the remaining wind out of him. alarms erupt all over the dash, the noise of them blotted out by a stillness in his ears, as if they'd been submerged - an immense pressure against his eardrum which stifles even his own pulse.

until it didn't, sound rushing back in a cacophony of sirens and shrieking metal, the creature's roar only drown out by the dull sound of impact and the sudden build of force that follows, glass shattering as buildings shook and crumbled. nik curses, something in russian. flare smoke builds in the cab but it doesn't even matter, not when the debris outside the windshield is so thick nik can't even see the approaching church until he's almost gone through the belfry. he banks right, hard, and gaz has a panicked moment of free fall as the open door he'd already fallen through twice today rolls to meet him and he slips through it once more, fingers barely even managing to catch on the frame before he's falling again, a two story drop into the blessedly bare church courtyard with a winded huff, vision tunneling as he stares up uncomprehendingly at the streak of light that's pierced the sky, the burning after-image of a gale force he simply has no framework for.

when he wakes up, it's to a world on fire.

if anyone is interested in that kinda post apocalyptic world, lmk. i don't wanna do any sort of series here but kaiju are my lifelong hyperfixation so i'm always happy to ramble about this sort of setting :)

[fairytwles]

hi babyyyy

sending asks bc you’re about to answer a bunch! i was wondering if u have any lottienat or jackienat (or jackielottienat :o) headcanons or anything i love them so bad

love u!

hi baby gorgeous!!!!

i love love love answering asks feel free to send more if u want <3 (if that's what u meant by the first sentence lol) and yes ofc <3 i have a bunch of jackienat headcanons BUT give me a day or two and I will come back with LottieNat headcanons i PROMISE

jackienat

nat 100% made jackie mixtapes before they were dating in order to "get jackie listening to some real music" but really made them so she could put her feelings out there without actually saying anything.... she would put so much thought, love and effort into them but would never admit it

she never necessarily wanted jackie to figure it out since she never thought jackie would feel the same way, it was just something she did so she could get some of the weight off her chest

jackie's oblivious so she never got the hint lol

jackie learned how to make a mixtape (with the help of shauna) and put some of her favorite music on it to give to nat (mostly top fourties pop)

she decorated it with glitter stickers and wrote nats name in a pink paint marker

nat adored it

pop music isn't really her thing.... like at all

but she found herself playing it over and over and over again

she got one of the songs stuck in her head one day and was unconsciously humming it during class

van made fun of her for it when she realized what song it was and nat has never been more embarrassed in her life.

jackie realized she liked natalie (and therefore liked girls) late in her junior year of highschool, nat was giving her these mixtapes and she adored every last bit of them

she always wanted to talk to natalie, but never had the guts to truly try to be friends with her... of course they talked because of soccer, but not really outside of that...

(i headcanon jackie as a lesbian for context) She slowly realized she never truly liked jeff that way but was too scared to break up with him because she didn't think anyone would love her the way he did, she thought she could push through and everything would work out and it made her feel so guilty

she thought about nat often but didn't do anything about it,, the thought of dating her was nothing more than a dream to jackie.

jackie made the first move (completely accidentally) by asking nat after soccer one day if she wanted to go look at CD's and records and casettes with her, that she wanted to look at some more of the music nat put on the mixtapes for her (is this a readable sentence??? idk its 3am)

nat completely freaked out internally but obv said yes

jackie had no idea where to go so nat figured it all out

they spent an hour in the store just talking and laughing as if they were already best friends for years

and then they both went to a cafe afterwards (which was not in the original plan) because neither of them wanted to leave each other yet

I HAVE SO MANY MORE THOUGHTS BUT ITS 3AM AND I GOTTA GO TO BED

so this has to be cut short :((

I love you more!!! the lottie to my jackie <33 thank u for the ask this was so fun

[femmenature]

nobody gets me, you do

Pairing: Ellie Williams x f! reader (ofc)

Summary: where your ex Ellie can't spend another day pretending she doesn't still love you.

Warnings: Inappropriate language.

-

you usually appreciated this kind of nights. Where you don't have to work and you can watch a series or put more effort into the food, and not just make a simple white rice. You used to appreciate it in Ellie's company. Now you prefer to keep your head busy, work, study, do some gardening even though you know perfectly well how horrible you are at it. And that your head will probably play tricks on you and remind you of how Els laughed for a week because a damn cactus dried up on you. A sigh escapes your thoughts. “See, this is what happens when you're distracted,” you say to yourself, leaning against the kitchen counter. But your relaxed posture didn't last long, as someone knocked on your door. Strange, knowing that you didn't order anything to eat and didn't invite your friends. You walked to the door and opened it with your eyebrows furrowed, you were going to open your mouth but it was her, and you just stood with your hand on the door frame and your heart in your mouth.

Ellie looked at me and blinked rapidly, as if checking that this was not a dream. Her heel rested on the floor, leaving the toe of her slipper raised nervously. “hey” she let out in a sigh, which she seemed to have been holding back for quite some time.

“hey…” my voice betrayed me and trembled as I said something as small as a greeting. Though I guess it only matters who you're saying it to, and having her in front of you isn't easy, more so when you've had no contact for the past five months.

“I know it's weird, knocking on your door knowing we're not together” she spoke fast on the last words, wanting to cover up the fact that you guys are apart, because it hurts her more than anything else in this world ”but I'd rather you see me as a freaking weirdo than keep this to myself any longer. Altough you know I'm weird, I mean, you know me better than anyone else and-” she stopped talking, knowing she was getting distracted.

“do you want to come in and we can talk inside?” even though you're scared to death and more uneasy than ever, you acted calm so she would be too. She nodded and you invited her in, closing the door behind her. “so…why are you here?” you don't act disinterested, not excited either, Even if you are. You disguise the fireworks in your stomach as you smell her perfume when she walked inside. As if your house is complete again.

“uhm, these five months” she licked her lips nervously as she looks away remembering the days she spent without you ”were the worst months in the world. And it's just pathetic to tell you knowing that you're the reason I had such a hard time. Or the absence of you. I was with a part of you, with your ghost that haunted me everywhere I went reminding me that it wasn't going to be the same without you, and the worst part is that even though it wasn't really you it was all I had left to not feel completely alone in the world. So somehow I didn't want it to go away” her eyes finally met mine, softening ”our pictures are still in my room, even our saved game from the last time we played Life is Strange together. I didn't touch it waiting for you to come back, in that stupid hope that you'd show up and we'd forget our stupid fight. But I guess our pride won us over once again.” she moves a little closer, slowly, as if she's afraid the floor beneath her will crumble ”and for the first time in my life I couldn't care less about my pride because I know you're on the other side of the scale. And the love I have for you compares to absolutely nothing I have or will ever be able to have.”

your eyes become crystal clear, you think this is not real, you imagined so much that this moment would come, you made so many scenarios with Ellie and that she will come back into your life, but not like this. She is practically showing you her heart like never before, in a desperate attempt to get back to being everything she loves and still loves. You were going to say something, but she cut you off, she had more to tell you, more to show you how much she misses you.

“So I'm here. I'm not going to lie to you and pretend that I don't expect you to answer me, that I'll be able to wait for you to think and answer me without falling apart from the anticipation of not being able to hold you in my arms again. I don't even know how I could endure these months without you” finally closes the immense distance and gently caresses your hand tenderly ”do you know how desperate it is that no one understands you, that the only one who knew how to calm you down was miles away from me in body and soul?”

her eyes are desperately searching for yours and her voice is begging you “the only person who could do that was you and it killed me to know that you didn't want to see me when all I wanted to do was kiss you as if the world would end after that. Nobody gets me, you do. Nobody can beat your eyes, your touch, your voice, your jokes, your love. I couldn't even look at another woman because I knew no one was worth it, no one is worth it. No one can look at me and know when I'm anxious, or how much I love space. They would see the stuffed dinosaur I have in my room as a simple stuffed animal, when you took the time to know which one is my favorite and buy it for my birthday and when I would give an explanation of that dinosaur and why I have that damn stuffed animal the only thing I will think about is that I lost you forever and and-"

you approached her and gave her a sudden kiss, knowing that if you let her talk anymore, anxiety would eat her up. The kiss is tender, desperate for time apart, but at the same time soft and romantic. Her hands brought your hips closer to hers while you caressed the back of her neck. After a few seconds you separated and rested your foreheads without taking your hands off where you had them

"I hope you never have to explain to anyone why you have a dinosaur in your room because I'm not going to lose you again" Ellie smiled and hugged you, hiding her face in your neck "I wasn't planning on doing it anyway. I was going to die without you then I wouldn't give myself the chance to have another girlfriend" you laughed caressing her hair "I missed you, Els" she kissed your neck tenderly without letting go "I missed you too baby"

-

I'M SORRY if it's not well written, I don't speak English and it's hard for me not to get lost!!! Enjoy <333

[hivemuthur]

What was that? - Ch. 9.

viktorxfemale!OFC explicit!

friends to lovers, co-workers, sexual tension up to the wazoo, pinning and banter that got me frustrated when I was writing it, attempt at humour, some angst and a slow burn with a happy ending and a classic Viktor for once

Ch.1. | Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.10. | Ch.11. | Ch.12. | Ch.13. | Ch.14. | Ch.15.

word count: 4,6K

tag: #what was that

author’s note: My dear people, who actually read this, I salute to your patience. Without much spoilers, @rennethen, who is my lovely beta reader and at this point a lovely friend as well, has co-written a crucial part of this chapter, which must be one of my favourite love scenes. Enjoy!

Cross-posted on AO3

—

“So,” Jayce began, leaning against a nearby table with a raised eyebrow. “Are you going to tell me what happened after the party, or do I have to pry it out of you?”

Viktor didn’t look up from his work. “There is nothing to tell,” he said evenly, though the faintest twitch of his jaw betrayed him.

“Really? Because from what I saw, Renly looked ready to melt into you by the time you left,” Jayce said, not bothering to hide his grin. “And don’t even try denying it. I saw the two of you. Did you walk her home?”

Viktor exhaled sharply, setting his pen down. “No, she didn’t want me to. I don’t think I exactly met her expectations that night,” he added wearily.

Jayce frowned, his grin fading as he studied Viktor's expression. “Her expectations? Viktor, what are you talking about? I am worked up from the tension between you two, and from where I’m standing, it looks like she’s tired of the games.”

Viktor's lips tightened into a thin line as he rubbed his temple. “Perhaps,” he murmured. “But it is not so simple. I cannot—” He cut himself off, searching for the right words. “Renly… deserves someone whole. Someone who can give her what she needs, without limitations or complications.”

Jayce groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Oh, for the love of Gods, Viktor, not this again. You’re doing that thing where you convince yourself that you’re the problem before anyone else has even said a word about it. Do you honestly think Renly cares about your so-called ‘limitations’?”

Viktor’s gaze hardened. “It is not a matter of what she cares about now, Jayce. It is a matter of what she will care about, eventually. People always say such things at the beginning. They make promises they cannot keep because they do not yet understand the full reality.”

Jayce crossed his arms and stared at Viktor incredulously. “You really think Renly’s like that? That she’s just going to up and decide one day that you’re not enough for her? Have you even given her the chance to prove you wrong?”

Viktor’s jaw clenched. “I am giving her the chance, Jayce. By not allowing this… whatever it is to escalate into something we both regret.”

Jayce shook his head, letting out a low chuckle that was equal parts frustration and disbelief. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? You’re so damn smart, but when it comes to feelings, you’re a complete idiot. News flash, Viktor: the world isn’t going to wait for you to feel ready. And neither is Renly.”

Viktor didn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the blueprints before him, though his focus was clearly elsewhere. The weight of Jayce’s words hung in the air, pressing down on him like a tangible force.

Finally, he spoke, his voice quieter but no less resolute. “I am not like you, Jayce. I cannot afford to be careless with matters of the heart. Not when there is so much at stake. If this were to fail…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “It would break me.”

Jayce softened, his frustration giving way to something more understanding. He stepped closer, placing a hand on Viktor’s shoulder. “Look, I get it. You’re scared. But don’t you think that’s kind of the point? If it wasn’t terrifying, it wouldn’t be worth it. You don’t have to have everything figured out right now, but you do have to try. Otherwise, you’re just going to push her away—and I promise you, Viktor, that’s going to hurt a hell of a lot more than taking the risk.”

Viktor finally looked up, meeting Jayce’s gaze. There was conflict in his eyes, a battle between the walls he had spent years building and the growing crack Renly had managed to carve into them.

“I will consider your words,” he said after a long pause, his tone measured but tinged with something vulnerable. “But I make no promises.”

Jayce smiled faintly, patting Viktor on the shoulder before stepping back. “That’s all I’m asking. Just… don’t overthink it, okay? Not everything in life needs a blueprint.”

As Jayce walked away, Viktor returned to his work, though the words of his friend lingered. For all his logic and reason, he couldn’t deny the truth in what Jayce had said. And yet, the fear remained, an ever-present shadow that refused to let go.

Because Viktor knew one thing for certain: the closer he allowed himself to get to Renly, the greater the risk of losing everything he had fought so hard to protect.

***

Renly trudged up the steps to the lab, her feet dragging with a heaviness she couldn’t shake. She checked the time on her pocket watch for the third time that morning—or rather, the early afternoon—and winced. Nearly four hours late.

She’d debated whether she should come in at all, entertaining the idea of calling out sick, but even the thought of leaving Viktor alone to stew with his thoughts made her restless. It wasn’t as though she could escape him, anyway. His voice was in her head, his touch still lingering in the ghostly way that made her chest ache.

She pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders, despite the warmth of the late morning sun. The sky above Piltover was clear, but inside, her thoughts were anything but.

Renly stepped into the lab building, keeping her head low and her pace brisk. The familiar hum of machinery greeted her, but for once, it didn’t calm her nerves. Every step toward the lab’s main floor felt heavier, as if her body were actively protesting her decision to face the day.

She didn’t bother peeking in to see if Jayce or Viktor were there. If she did, there was a chance one of them might spot her, and she wasn’t ready for either of their voices—Jayce’s friendly concern or Viktor’s infuriating calmness.

Slipping past the main work area, Renly made a beeline for the tiny side room she sometimes used when she needed privacy—or an escape. The room was little more than a glorified closet with a workbench and a stool, but it was quiet, and, more importantly, it had a lock.

She shut the door behind her softly, letting out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Setting her bag down on the bench, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.

She wasn’t ready for this. Not for Viktor, not for Jayce, not for anything.

Despite the promise of a weekend to recharge, she’d spent most of it replaying Friday night in her head. The way Viktor’s voice had softened when he said, “I don’t have an answer, Renly.” The way her heart had dropped at his hesitation. And, worst of all, the way she’d turned away from him, leaving them both in that miserable, unspoken limbo.

She rubbed her temples, trying to push the memory aside, but it clung stubbornly.

“I should’ve just stayed home,” she muttered to herself, kicking off her boots and curling up on the stool. The bench in front of her was scattered with leftover components from her last experiment—a half-finished mess she didn’t have the energy to clean up.

She stared at it for a moment, willing herself to start something, anything to keep her mind off Viktor. But her hands stayed still, too heavy to lift.

Her mind raced as she picked apart the weekend in her head. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so direct. Maybe she shouldn’t have cornered him. Maybe… maybe he was right, and this wasn’t something she should push.

But another part of her, the part that refused to let go of the way Viktor’s heartbeat had sounded beneath her cheek, wasn’t ready to give up.

The sound of muffled voices outside the room made her stiffen. She recognized Jayce’s booming laugh first, then Viktor’s measured reply. She couldn’t make out the words, but the low timbre of Viktor’s voice sent a fresh wave of frustration rolling through her. She decided to bury herself in work once again.

She had no idea how much time had passed. She also didn’t really know what she was doing, aside from aimlessly fiddling with the properties of the formula. That was, until something went wrong and one of her vials exploded without warning.

She snapped. Letting out a frustrated snarl, she shouted, “I fucking hate viscosity!”—forgetting entirely that she’d meant to stay quiet.

The sound echoed sharply in the confined room, and before the realization of what she’d just done could sink in, she heard a soft knock at the door.

“Ugh… come in,” she groaned, her voice heavy with resignation as the door opened with a faint creak.

“Renly.”

Her movements froze mid-motion, halfway through wiping the mess off her desk. She didn’t turn around. “What is it, Viktor?”

Her voice was flat, her tone clipped. The sharpness of it stung more than he cared to admit, but he pressed on, leaning heavily on his cane as he entered the room.

“Did you mean to be distant?” His voice was quiet but weary, laced with an edge of vulnerability. He hadn’t heard her come in earlier. And he definitely hadn’t expected her—of all people—to hide.

She let out a sharp, humourless laugh, finally turning to face him. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

He flinched at her words but held his ground. “I deserve that,” he admitted, his throat tightening. “But I…” He paused, struggling to find the right words. “I want to talk.”

Her arms folded across her chest, a defensive shield he longed to break through. “About what? How things are better if they’re left unchanged? I don’t think I have the strength for that today. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“That is not—” He stopped himself, frustration flaring in his chest. Exhaling slowly, he gripped his cane tighter. “That is not what I think.”

“Really?” she shot back, her gaze sharp and unrelenting. “Because you were pretty blunt about it last time.”

His knuckles whitened on the cane. “I never wanted to hurt you,” he said, his voice thick with regret. “I spoke with Jayce,” he added wearily, searching her face for any cracks in her guarded expression.

“Did he tell you what an idiot you are, so I don’t have to?” she muttered, turning away to sweep shards of glass from the workbench.

Viktor stepped forward, calculating whether he should touch her hand, guide her to face him. Instead, he walked up to the desk and stood beside her, placing his palm close to hers.

He hesitated, his breath catching. “I am weak around you,” he said, his voice small, barely a whisper.

Renly froze, though she didn’t move away. Their shoulders brushed lightly. Viktor gathered his courage and ghosted his fingers over hers, the faintest touch. “From the moment I understood the weakness of my flesh, it disgusted me. And I have projected that disgust onto others—onto you.”

Her brow furrowed, her lips parting in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve spent my life fighting to overcome my limitations,” he said, his voice low but steady. “My body has been nothing but a reminder of fragility, of failure. I hate it. And I... I feared you might one day hate it too.” He looked at her then, his amber eyes raw with vulnerability. “So I pushed you away. I thought it was mercy.”

Renly’s arms fell to her sides, her expression softening as the weight of his confession settled between them. “Mercy?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Viktor, this is torture. It’s inhumane. It’s… it’s—”

His lips twitched into a faint, rueful smile. “Yes,” he said. “I am aware.”

She took a shaky breath, a laugh escaping despite herself. “You wasted so much time. So much pain—for nothing.”

“Not nothing,” he said softly. “For you.”

Her chest tightened, and she turned to him, her hands trembling. “Viktor,” she began, her voice barely audible. “You’re wrong. About your body, about what you think I see.”

He blinked, his breath hitching as she closed the distance between them.

“I don’t see failure,” she said, her words firm even as her voice quivered. “I see someone who fights every day, who inspires, who... who has my heart, whether he wants it or not.”

His cane clattered to the floor as his hand reached for her face, his fingers brushing her cheek as though he couldn’t quite believe she was real. “Renly,” he murmured, her name a prayer on his lips. “You undo me. Entirely. Completely,” he whispered, his hands already wrapping around her. “I am at my limit. I surrender to you—if you will have me.”

His lips brushed against hers as he spoke. Hers remained still, tentative, as though she hadn’t yet caught up to the reality of what was unfolding.

Without waiting for her reply, Viktor’s hand slid beneath her shirt, his touch seeking the warmth of her skin. His other hand rested gently on the side of her neck, keeping her face close, their noses brushing in an intimate collision. He kissed her deeply, longingly, wrapping all of himself around her, as if to shield her from the world.

Renly’s fingers finally tangled in his hair, her touch hesitant yet possessive, grounding herself in the moment. His hands moved with quiet confidence, slipping around her waist and pulling her firmly against him. The intensity of his hold sent a shiver racing through her, a wordless plea not to let go. Their kiss became a delicate dance—a push and pull, her lips pressing forward, his retreating, both testing the fragile boundary between longing and surrender.

The taste of him was unexpected—warm, intoxicating, layered with a quiet intensity that mirrored the man himself. The faint scent of parchment and oil clung to him, grounding her even as the rest of the world blurred around them. His fingers pressed into her back, firm yet gentle, a reminder that here, in this moment, she was his focus, his anchor, his everything.

When they finally broke apart, it was only by the smallest fraction, breathing each other in. Renly’s chest heaved, as if she had surfaced from deep water, her lips tingling from the lingering warmth of his. Viktor’s gaze burned with molten intensity, his pupils wide as he studied her face, as though committing every detail to memory. His voice, when he spoke, was soft and reverent. “I waited for this… far too long.”

They stayed like that, holding each other in the quiet, the lab around them forgotten. For the first time, they were not scientists, not colleagues—just two people who, after so much fear and hesitation, had finally found their way to each other.

“Viktor,” Renly broke the silence hesitantly, her voice trembling just enough to betray her nerves. “I don’t mean to be blunt or pushy, but…” Her cheeks burned impossibly hotter, and she forced herself to continue. “I might… implode sometime soon if you don’t—” Her words caught in her throat. Fuck me.

Viktor laughed, the sound catching her off guard. She blinked, startled, realizing with a jolt that this might have been the first time she’d seen him smile like this—teeth and all. “Here?” he asked, his disbelief tinged with amusement.

Renly dropped her head in embarrassment, but Viktor gently caught her chin, tilting her face back up to meet his gaze. “No,” he murmured, his voice soft but sure. “I want to do this…” His lips brushed her cheek in a feather-light kiss. “…Properly.”

His next words were a whisper against her mouth, just before another delicate kiss. “Your place, or mine?” he asked, his hands cradling her neck, long fingers meeting at the base of her skull in a way that made her shiver.

“Mine… no. Yours,” Renly corrected herself quickly, her face flushing anew as the image of her cluttered apartment flashed through her mind.

Viktor chuckled again, the sound warm and disarming. “Are you worried I will, trip over something at yours?”

“Something like that…” she replied, attempting to match his teasing tone. But beneath her words, she dreaded the possibility of Viktor being confronted with the chaos she had let her apartment fall into over the past two days.

They walked together in silence, hand in hand, their steps slow and deliberate. Thankfully, their apartments were close, nestled within the academy’s nearby residential area.

Renly’s pulse thundered in her fingertips, and it didn’t take long for Viktor to notice.

“Are you nervous? Or… excited?” he teased, his tone low but playful.

“Um… both?” she admitted, though the truth was far less composed. She was scared out of her mind. And for the life of her, she couldn’t fathom Viktor’s calm, steady demeanour. It was as though, once he’d decided, nothing could shake his resolve.

She glanced up at him, studying his profile in the dim light. For a fleeting moment, she saw him as he must have been once—a fearless boy from the Undercity, driven and unshakable.

“Ladies first.” Viktor gave a slight bow, his hand gesturing toward the open door of his apartment.

Renly stepped inside, her eyes flickering over the space as she fought to steady her nerves. His apartment was modest, neatly kept, but with a distinct personality. Books were stacked in uneven towers, some with notes and diagrams spilling from their pages like secrets waiting to be discovered.

She opened her mouth, ready to tease him about being more of a hoarder than she’d expected, but before the words could form, Viktor’s arms were around her. In a swift, fluid motion, he twisted her toward him, claiming her lips with a greediness that sent her heart racing.

She barely registered the feel of the wall against her back as his hands roamed her body, their touch unhurried yet decisive. One hand slid to the back of her neck, his fingers curling against her skin in a way that made her shiver. He was entirely in control, and for once, she let herself surrender to it.

“You have bewitched me,” he murmured softly, his voice quiet and thick with the accent. “You have pursued me longer than anyone else would.” His lips ghosted her cheeks, her eyelids, her neck, and she felt parts of herself clenching on nothing but air. Her neck still in his grasp, he guided her to look up and meet his gaze.

He could feel her hesitation, like a delicate tension in the air between them. It was familiar, yet it thrilled him all the same. He was not in a rush, though—he knew exactly how to navigate the moment, how to make her aware of the weight of his presence without overwhelming her. There was power in control, and for once, Viktor knew he would wield it with precision, just as he had in every aspect of his life. But this wasn’t about conquest—it was about trust, something she would give him only when she was ready.

“You have been pushing my buttons for months now.” Viktor stopped momentarily to study her face. She looked at him dazed, her eyelids hooded, her gaze pensive. “It’s about time you tell me…,” he whispered into hear ear and she could feel the curve of his confident smirk on her earlobe. “…Which buttons would you like me to push for you.”

Her pulse raced, but it was a strange, quiet excitement. She had never quite felt this way before, this drawn in by a person, this willing to be vulnerable. She wanted to trust him, she wanted to lean into the pull, but there was something inside her that hesitated. It wasn’t fear—it was uncertainty. She wanted to know what it would feel like to give in. Her heart seemed to beat faster with each breath, her body betraying her, melting under Viktor’s touch. She always thought him a shy lover. The realisation of how wrong she was almost made her chuckle.

As Renly collected herself enough to answer, Viktor hugged the curve of her ass with both of his hands and grazed his still clothed, half-hard cock through the spot where her thighs met, earning himself a full volume moan falling from her lips.

The last walls she had built came crumbling down. Her body felt lighter, as if the tension she hadn’t even realized she was holding had dissipated, another building up in its place. She wasn’t controlling this moment, but that felt right. Viktor’s presence was a steadying force, grounding her, guiding her through the vulnerability she’d never allowed herself to embrace before. It was terrifying and thrilling at once—this feeling of surrender.

He could feel the shift in her—how she had gone from uncertainty to openness. That realization brought him a quiet sense of satisfaction. She was trusting him with more than just her body now; she was trusting him with her mind, her heart. There was something in the way she responded to him now, the way she let herself go, that was pure. Viktor felt as if he had been granted access to something so delicate, so personal. And he knew that, with her, he could never betray that trust. His heart, usually so guarded, opened just a crack, and he let her in—just enough to feel her as she truly was: beautiful, vulnerable, and utterly his in that moment.

Viktor leaned close, his voice low but deliberate, his breath warm against her ear. “Tell me, Reynard Huxley of Zaun… what do you want from me?” The question was spoken with an unshakable calm, a kind of authority that left no room for doubt, only for her to answer truthfully.

Renly swallowed hard, her pulse hammering as she searched for the right words. There was so much she could have said—so much she wanted, but every thought tangled into a mess in her mind. Finally, she breathed, “Your voice.”

His brow arched in faint amusement as he tilted his head, waiting for her to explain.

“Your voice,” she repeated, this time a bit steadier, though the heat in her cheeks betrayed her nerves. “I love it—your accent, the way you talk. It… it gets under my skin, in a good way,” she added quickly, her fingers gripping his sleeve. “So, keep talking. I want to hear you.”

The corners of Viktor’s mouth lifted into the barest of smiles, a glint of mischief flickering in his golden eyes. “Ah,” he said softly, drawing out the sound as if savouring her admission. “So, you will leave me to do all the work tonight, then?”

She let out a nervous laugh, her head falling forward slightly until he tilted her chin up with a single finger. “No,” she murmured, though her voice faltered under his gaze. “I just… I want to hear you. All of you.”

Viktor chuckled lightly, his thumb brushing over her jaw. “All of me?” he repeated, the words deliberate, his tone playful yet commanding. “You will have to keep up, then. I am not known for being gentle when I am… inspired.”

Her heart stuttered, but she found herself nodding, her voice barely a whisper—“I’ll try.”

“No,” he said simply, his voice lowering an octave as he leaned in closer. “You will do more than try. You will let me guide you. Trust me… and listen.”

The words sent a shiver through her, and for a moment, she forgot how to breathe. There was no teasing in his tone anymore—only a quiet assurance, a certainty that somehow melted away her fears and left her entirely at his mercy.

He took her hand in his and guided her silently toward the bedroom. The room was small, slightly more cluttered compared to the rest of his quiet space. Various trinkets, tools, and souvenirs were scattered across the shelves.

Before she could ask about any of them, Renly saw Viktor propping his cane against the bed frame.

“Come here,” he said softly, beckoning her closer.

Seeing her expression remain neutral as she approached, he added, “You will tell me if anything is not to your liking, yes?”

Renly nodded, momentarily taken aback by his authority.

“I would like you to undress me,” he said firmly, steadying himself on her shoulders. “And I will do the same for you.”

This. This was Viktor was doing his magic. She knew exactly where this came from—the brace. This was his way of reforging a memory of shame into one of intimacy and pleasure.

With shaky fingers she decided the obvious place to start was the cravat. She pulled it gently through his button-down band, revealing the pool where his collar bones met. The density of his freckles increasing under the material.

She was so focused on her task that she didn’t realize her shirt was already unbuttoned until Viktor’s fingers grazed her skin—his handiwork, as always, precise and swift. She stole a glance at his face and saw it filled with awe; his eyes transfixed on her chest. “You are… astonishing.” He smiled at her, the words bringing back the memory of a compliment that had earned him mockery not long ago.

She managed to catch up, and a few moments later, she hesitated. Should the brace stay or go? Viktor caught the question on her face and answered before she could ask—“This thing too,” he murmured reassuringly. “Don’t worry, I won’t fall apart.”

They stood opposite each other, their torsos bare. At last, Renly got to trace an invisible line with her fingers, connecting all of Viktor’s freckles and beauty marks, leading down to his hip bone. She stared at him, her brows pinched together and her mouth slightly agape—he was so beautiful. Scars scattered across his ribs, where the brace had scratched his flesh, forming opalescent, delicate brush strokes of pearly white.

He pulled her closer, leaning forward to press his face against her breasts, inhaling deeply. “To think I was willing to leave this world one day without ever experiencing this,” he murmured, his voice muffled against her skin.

“Is there a poet hidden within you that I wasn’t aware of, Viktor?” she teased, desperately trying to break the tension that had overtaken her. She leaned into the joke, though the truth was, she felt overwhelmed by his reverence. It was ironic, really—their roles reversed, with her now the one under his microscope in this moment.

“Tell me if you’re uncomfortable. But…” He lifted himself gently from her chest to meet her gaze. “I certainly hope you’re not. I could study you endlessly.” His voice carried a quiet confidence, and he looked on, clearly satisfied, as a blush crept up her neck.

“Can I...?” Renly asked, glancing down at his leg.

“Oh, yes, you may,” Viktor replied. “But for that, I need to sit down. So, allow me to go first.” Not entirely sure what he meant by ‘go first,’ she let herself be guided toward the edge of the bed. Viktor sat down and then gently settled her between his legs. He placed a kiss on her belly before starting to undo the buttons on the back of her skirt. Oh. She was going to be very naked soon.

When her last piece of serious clothing formed a pool around her feet, Viktor started playing tentatively with the band of her underwear. She observed him from above, as he allowed himself a touch through the material, discovering her wetness—the effect of his thorough courtship.

“All this… for me,” he gasped, his tone breathy. Seeing her like this – flushed, aroused, all because of him, sparked an idea inside him. A new plan started to formulate. He pulled her into his lap. If she could, she would have hesitated, but Viktor’s grip was firmer than it seemed. Leaning into her ear, he whispered, “I would like you to take a seat,” pointing to his lips. “Here.”

Renly’s eyes widened, a quiet protest flickering within them. Her breath hitched as she remembered Viktor’s words—how he had expected her to speak up if anything felt wrong. After a moment of hesitation, she nodded instead.

“I will tap your thigh if I need to take a breath,” he murmured into her ear in a low, steady voice, balancing on the verge of the tone he used when explaining something in the lab. “And, most importantly,” a gentle squeeze of her thigh followed, “you will not abandon your seat until you come into my mouth, understood?” he finally commanded, more than asked. All she could manage was a quiet ‘yes.’

Viktor lay down on his back and guided Renly to hover above his face, her hands grasping the headboard behind him. A smirk curved his lips, when he instructed her to lower her hips, but she felt unsure about pressing all her weight onto him. Seeing her hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her thighs in a strong grip, his hands kneading the flesh of her hips, as he yanked her down to press her core to his face. His eyes flickered to hers from beyond the curve of her cunt, as he reassured her in a husky voice, “I promise I won’t break.”

He stroked the line of her with a long teasing lick, gently parting her with his tongue. Viktor could feel Renly shiver above him at the teasing sensation spreading itself through her body. She spotted his whisky eyes watching her hungrily, as his nose brushed itself gently against her clit, dragging a half-gasp half-moan, a weak attempt at mumbling out his name.  

“Did you like that?” His chuckle reverberated within her core and seeing no response coming, Viktor teased her again and again, until she granted him with a shaky ‘yes.’ He smiled against her skin and placed his tongue where his nose hovered a second ago, switching between small kitten licks and splaying his tongue flat against her in long drags, searching for what made her body tremble the most.

Feeling her slick drip down his chin, his ears filled with the sounds of her imminent release, he placed his mouth back at her entrance and ground his face against her clit, his own groans making her body jerk and twist.

He was eating her like a man starved. Feeling her walls clench around his tongue, he searched for a spot that made her toes curl, causing her hand to fall from the headboard into his locks as she pulled his face closer, her body bowed in pleasure over him.

He picked up his pace, fuelled by his name falling from her lips like a mantra, when her walls broke, her pleasure crashing over her. Viktor tightened his grip over her thighs, his arms holding her close as she rode her orgasm on the vibrations of her own name coming from his throat in muffled moans.

When he felt her body cooling, he slid her down to straddle his lap, lifted himself up, and kissed her longingly, stroking her back. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Viktor, I…,” she tried to formulate a sentence but could only rest her forehead against his. “I don’t think I’ve ever… I… I…,” she stuttered, causing Viktor to genuinely laugh for the first time she could recall.

“Have I achieved the impossible? Are you at a loss for words, my dear scholar?” he asked, a smile still painted on his face.

“You have no idea,” she replied, leaving a dozen feather-light kisses on his face. “Can we take your trousers off now?” she asked, having recollected herself from the post-climax haze.

“Certainly. But wasn’t it your task tonight?” She caught him smirking again. Soon, they were both equally naked. Renly kissed the scares on his knee as she removed his leg brace. He winced slightly but decided to let her do it, since she let him probe through all of her defences tonight. Viktor finally got to trace the line of her tattoo with his fingers, sending shivers down her spine.

He shifted on the bed, bringing her from kneeling at his legs back to straddling his lap. His fingers ghosted over the plane of her face, briefly cradling it with his hand before moving down her neck and her chest. Gently cupping her breast with one hand, he brought the other to do the same. His palms gave them a gentle squeeze before Viktor leaned forward and latched his mouth onto one of her nipples, the other not forgotten as he delicately stroked it with his thumb.

Renly gasped at the sudden attention, her hands finding purchase in his hair to steady herself against him. He switched between her breasts, to give each the same amount of his careful attention, taking note in how she reacted and continuing the same gestures that caused her to writhe against him.

He gave her sensitive skin a gentle nip, causing Renly to moan in pleasure, before one of his hands travelled down her torso to reach her cunt. The free palm went to cup her face again, bringing her into a heated, passionate kiss. His tongue played against her mouth, coaxing her to open and she met him in the middle of a tug war game between their lips.

Viktor’s fingers spread her cunt gently to reveal all the slick she gathered for him, his thumb giving her clit a slow, experimental rub. Renly gasped against his lips at the sudden touch, and he repeated the motion in response. She rested her head in the crook of his neck, pressing a lingering kiss there, as he explored the pressure and speed she desired. It wasn’t long before he had her panting and grinding herself on his hand, a hot pressure building up in her lower belly.

As she was edging toward another release, Viktor cupped her cunt and pushed one finger inside, releasing a whine from her lips at the change of touch. She was a panting, flushed mess on his lap, Viktor’s finger fucking her slowly. He kept adding one when he felt her loosen, flexing her walls by scissoring his fingers apart and grinding the heel of his palm against her clit. He retreated his hand once he was happy with his ministrations and licked his fingers clean, making sure her eyes were fixed on him. “You are simply divine,” he whispered as Renly pulled him into a sloppy kiss, tasting herself in his mouth.

Her palms drifted down his abdomen, trailing along the freckles spattered on his skin. She slid her palm flat down his lower belly to grasp his cock and give him a long, languid stroke. her forehead resting against his. Viktor shuddered at the attention to his length—he was long with a gentle curve to it, something he was rather insecure about previously, but now found himself adoring the way her hands explored him.

She gently rubbed her thumb on the tip, spreading the leak of pre-cum to add some slide to her strokes. She studied which movements made him gasp, watched him as his composure began to faulter and his head fell back against the bed. “Fuck,” he mouthed a voiceless curse, making her lips curl into a smile. Finally, she brought him carefully to her entrance, coating him in her slick. His hands found her hips as he steadily guided her down onto him, pausing to let her adjust. By the time she had him hilted they both gasped tentatively at the sensation, as if it were too much.

Viktor pulled her torso flush against his, holding her tenderly as he rolled his hips in the first experimental thrust, gauging on how she was taking him. His mouth fell open against hers, their breaths mingling together with a sound full of yearning. Renly ground her pelvis against his until they found a rhythm that was inching them both toward completion.

“Fuck, Renly,” Viktor’s voice strained as he was chasing his pleasure, fucking her with everything he had. Each thrust deep, earning him small gasps falling from her lips. For Viktor, it was a quiet kind of undoing, a descent into something both utterly foreign and achingly familiar. Every touch, every breath, felt like it stripped away the layers of armour he’d spent a lifetime constructing. His world, so often dominated by calculations and control, was suddenly governed by sensation—her warmth, her quiet moans, the way her hands clung to him like she feared the moment would slip through her fingers.

It was humbling, almost terrifying, to be so seen. And yet, it wasn’t the frailty of his body or the imperfections he had so long despised that held her gaze. It was him. The way she looked at him—as if he were something precious, something more than the sum of his flaws—shook him to his core.

Her trust was staggering, her surrender an offering he scarcely felt he deserved. But the way she responded to him, the way her body moved with his, left no room for doubt or hesitation. Here, there was no weakness, no failure—only a shared rhythm, a harmony he hadn’t known was possible.

And in that moment, as he let himself drown in her, Viktor felt something unexpected: not power, but peace. A rare and fleeting quiet in the chaos of his mind, a fragile stillness born of connection rather than control. She had given it to him freely, and in return, he gave her everything he had left to offer.

[echoingbirdsofprey]

Lightning On My Lips (Every Time You Kiss Me)

26 - Empty The Bottle And Empty My Soul

Pairing: Tyler Owens x OFC Georgia Tennley-Owens

Rating: Explicit (MDNI!)

Warnings: Alcohol comsumption, medical crap, mentions of suicidal ideation, mentions of SMUT

A/N: This should read like a series of bad dreams that neither Georgia or Tyler can wake up from. Lots of mutual pining and no actions. Don't think that Georgia doesn't feel bad for what she did. She does. Tyler was a fucking mess. Thank you y'all for reading and continung to read! As always comments, likes, reblogs, and any feedback is super appreciated! Hope y'all enjoy this one!

Tags: @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @gpsmississippihippie @barnesboo1967 @dizzybee03 @coloraturadiva @kmc1989

Tyler laid uncomfortably in his bed, running his hand over the cut on his head. He traced it lightly with his fingertips and it seared with pain when he did. It was throbbing and the pain killers weren't doing shit for him. This was the last time, he vowed, the last time he'd get staples in his head for riding a bull. The last time he'd get stitches for opening up his skin on a fence. The last time he'd get a cast or a sling for breaking something. This was it. He was done. He needed to do something else because now he'd lost the love of his life and his riding career was pretty much over. He wouldn't live long enough to do what he's dreamed of his entire life if he didn't stop.

But he hated all of that. And the part he hated the most was that he'd lost Georgia.

“Why'd she leave?” He asked, sitting up, while groaning in pain.

“All she said was she couldn't lose someone else. I didn't ask her what that meant. I'm so sorry T. She said she loved you.” Boone said, as he shifted in his chair. He knew the biggest thing his friend needed right now was support and it was kind of shitty that Georgia left. She’d probably even admit that. But as the days stretched on and Tyler became more cognizant of what his life was really going to be like for a long while, he even commended her for leaving.

“Well a lotta good that does me now!” He exclaimed, slamming a fist on the bed, Agony radiated throughout his entire body and he yelped. 

“T, easy. Ya gotta chill.” Boone stood and made a calming gesture with his hands. 

“Why Boone? I'm fuckin’ done. I can't walk. Can't go anywhere. What the fuck use am I now? I'm glad she fuckin’ left. She doesn't havta see me like this, all broken and fucked up.” Tyler said, laying back down. He huffed in frustration.

“T, seriously man. It'll be okay. Just gonna be a long road.” Boone said, fidgeting in his seat, uncomfortable at Tyler’s burst of anger. He’d seen the bull rider get mad before but not like this. There was a ferality in his eyes that Boone wasn’t sure he was okay with in that moment.

“Nah, Boone. This is dumb. I...I gotta find somethin’ else man...what am I supposed to do sittin’ in a fuckin’ bed rottin’ away.” Tyler shifted again, grabbing the cup of water from the tray in front of him and chucking it across the room. It landed with a splash and Tyler cried out in pain.

“Tyler...I'm sorry.” Boone didn’t know what to say or do to help his friend, so he decided just being there was going to have to be enough for now.

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“FUCK THIS.” Tyler yelled, throwing the book he’d had his nose in for nearly three hours, across his room. It thudded against the wall and Boone ran up the stairs as quickly as he could. He’d been in the process of making his best friend lunch. Tyler was studying for an exam. A college exam. While he was laid up, he’d decided the best use of his time was to go to school. If he couldn’t exercise his body, at least he could exercise his mind. 

“What’s wrong, T?” Boone burst into the room and saw Tyler wheeling his chair backwards. 

“Fuckin’ cloud microphysics...pissin’ me the fuck off. I don’t get it.” Tyler said, slamming the wheelchair into the bed frame, the impact radiating up through the chair and into Tyler’s taxed body. 

“Can you be a lil’ less aggressive with the chair, T? You’re gonna break it and need a new one.” Boone pulled the chair slightly away from the bed.

“Maybe if I fuckin’ break it they won’t give me a new one.” Tyler glared at him.

“Then how you gon’ get ‘round?” Boone asked, knowing what his friend was hinting at. He would have to let the therapist know.

“I won’t. I’ll just heal or I’ll die. Who cares at this point.” His statement hurt Boone to his core. He knew someone that would care, but damn if he knew how to contact her, He’d tried and it came up as an out of service number. Maybe she had to get a new phone. Maybe she changed her number on purpose. Maybe she stopped paying the bill. There were a million reasons but there was only one that he cared about. Boone was banking on her coming back at some point. It would help Tyler. 

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“You’re gonna graduate in that fuckin’ chair if you don’t start tryin’ a lil’ harder.” Jake said to his brother, offering an arm and that was it. He wanted Tyler to be rageful, so that he would try to stand and maybe punch him. But Tyler had become complacent and it killed Jake to see him this way.

“Do you understand how much pain I’m in?” Tyler asked, glancing at his brother before gripping tightly to his arm.

“I don’t give a fuck. Get up.” Jake scolded him and helped pull him to his feet. “You’re supposed to be trying to walk. Let’s go.” 

“FUCK. It hurts, Jake!” Tyler yelped, nearly collapsing. Jake caught him and pulled him back up.

“I know it does but you have to try.” Jake said, helping Tyler straighten back up. “You wanna fuck a girl again?”

“I mean...yeah...” Tyler’s brows furrowed.

“Then you have to walk!” Jake exclaimed, pulling his hands away from Tyler. He wobbled as Jake backed away. “Walk to me.” Jake said, motioning for Tyler to go toward him. Tyler focused hard on Jake, taking a couple of heavy steps. He sighed and his breath shuddered. Jake stepped over and held his brother. “You’re okay, T. You’re okay.” 

Jake knew he was struggling. Tyler had begun standing in physical therapy but he needed help at home with it. Boone had been able to for a while, but he also had to go back to work so he could make a bit of a living too. Jake had come back from a deployment just in time to help take care of Tyler. 

Tyler couldn’t control his emotions. He began sobbing against Jake’s chest.

“I can’t do this Jake. I’m in so much pain. I just want to end it.” Tyler said between sobs and Jake guided him back to the bed. Tyler folded into his brother like a child, burying his face in his neck.

“You can’t, T. I need my wingman. You can get through this. I know it hurts. I can feel you shaking. But you’ve gotta push through. Its the only way those muscles are gonna come back.” Jake rubbed his brother’s back. Tyler’s muscles were spasming and he was sweating. He’d been in the wheelchair for so many months that most of his muscles had atrophied to a point where any physical activity was difficult. Tyler was thin and weak and it horrified Jake to see his brother that way.

“Jake...if I asked you..” Tyler began and Jake cut him off.

“I’m not helping you end it. I’m helping you live, T. Stop being selfish. You’ve been through harder shit than this. Pull yourself together. For me.” Jake and Tyler’s eyes met. “Do you still want to have a house, and the girl, and kids, and all of that? How you gonna get that  if you don’t get through this.”

“How can I have any of that...she left me.” Tyler said and Jake scoffed.

“She’s not the only girl in the world, T.” Jake said softly.

“No, but she’s the only one I want.” Tyler said.

“How do you know that?” Jake asked.

“When you know, you know. And I fuckin’ know.”  Tyler affirmed and Jake shook his head but then puzzled through a solution.

“Well then T, if she’s the only one for you and you know, then you gotta get her back. You gotta work to do that. She ain’t gonna want a fuckin’ cripple. And you can’t make babies and maintain a house and all that other shit like this. So pull yourself together and remember what you want. If you want all of that, then go get it. Make it happen. Get better so that you can have everything you want.” 

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Tyler had agreed to go on one date, set up by Boone with a girl from his Computer Modeling class. Talia was cute, a tiny blonde with glasses, little tits and a small ass. Not Tyler's type at all. There was only one girl that was his type.

The whole time he was at dinner with her he couldn't help but think of how different she was to Georgia. Tyler, being the stud he was, could barely see past her body. Sure she was smart, probably smarter than him, but all he could think of was what she'd be like in bed. 

He had to get Georgia out of his head. But even as they headed back to her apartment, fumbling with the lock as they made out, Tyler thought of the beautiful blonde he'd loved before. Her curves, which this girl lacked. Georgia had perky, large breasts that fit perfectly in Tyler's large hands. Georgia had just enough around her hips that Tyler could grab on and not be worried he'd hurt her. Talia was all bones. And as he slipped the condom on and thrust inside the cute meteorology major, pain shot through his loins and immediately softened his length. He tried. He did. He just couldn't keep it up. By the time Talia orgasmed, Tyler's hips were screaming. He pulled out and panted and she went to the bathroom to rinse herself off. 

He gathered his clothes from the floor, trashed the condom, dressed and left. He sat in his truck at home, rubbing one out to an interview that Georgia had done for the NFR. He couldn't believe himself and how low he'd stooped. 

Tyler would pick a bottle of whiskey, vodka, or rum, sit out in a wheatfield at night in the back of his truck and drink himself to sleep. He’d look up at the sky, pray to God and the heavens above that Georgia would come back some day, but the alcohol always left him with no hope for that and a hell of a hangover in the morning.

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He had an impressive archive after four years. Every run, every pickup, every exhibition, every interview. Even the silly English show she'd done. Gee looked damn good in breeches, he admitted. That was the only thing that had gotten him through school and his recovery, was being able to watch her succeed time and time again. But every time he went to comment on a post or DM her, his thumb would hover over the button and he just couldn't bring himself to send it.

He'd struggled with pain management throughout those four years, attempting to end his life twice because it had become unbearable. There were days that he woke up and could barely move. Then he had really good days where he'd thought maybe he'd hop on a horse at the local arena and rope the dummy a couple times. 

He'd been building a truck to start storm chasing. Boone had helped and they were looking for a team. They'd started a YouTube channel, he and Boone getting some wild chase videos. The one that went viral and put them on the map was just outside of Tulsa, after Tyler had installed the augers on the truck and they tested them for the first time.

It had been a long time coming, but that was really when Tyler began praying hard. Tyler would go out to some different wheat field, now only once a week and polish off a bottle of whiskey or rum, whatever he had on hand, and lay in the bed of his truck, mumbling to God and the heavens above about how he just wished he could have her back. He just wished she'd come back around and they could forget the past four years and go back to what they had. Tyler just wanted her. 

He was tired of the girls throwing themselves at him. Tired of taking them out and trying to learn what they liked and didn't like when he already knew Georgia. He didn't want some other girl. And he was tired of the meaningless sex. They only wanted to bang him so they could say they'd slept with a famous youtuber. He should be sponsored by a condom company with how many he used over the course of the four years. He was so done with girls trying to get in his pants that he started letting Georgia's name come from his lips as he came, if he came. He didnt give a fuck anymore. Sure, he felt bad when it happened, and he apologized but he just couldn't take it anymore. He was done with other girls. Time to focus on his career, which was on an upswing that he couldn’t deny.

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She was miserable. She was burnt out. Exhausted. She'd run every bit of ground at every single rodeo in the country over the course of four years. And she still thought about Tyler every single day. He weighed heaviest on her mind. He was the piece pushed far in the back that pulled at her subconscious.

“What's wrong, sweets?” Skylar or Beau or Johnny or any of the hundred other bull riders or ropers would ask her, knowing she was distracted and Georgia would just shake her head. He didn't care. Not like Tyler did. No one cared like Tyler did.

And not one of these guys could give her release like Tyler could. Skylar thought he was God’s gift to women, and was always too rough, making her sore afterwards. She’d fucked around with Johnny a couple times and he was too boring. Beau was too wild, too erratic, barely could get her off, so she made it very clear she wasn’t interested in him. There was a guy that had come close to Tyler, but for whatever reason she would always go back to Skylar. Maybe she felt like she needed the punishment. She felt like she deserved to be in pain. 

When Georgia saw the Tornado Wranglers channel for the first time come across her YouTube suggestions, she gasped. He looked just the same as he had, but a little older. More mature, but still playful at heart. The banter between him and Boone made her smile. She watched every livestream that she could. And then when the channel hit a million subscribers, Georgia wanted to message him and congratulate him but she couldn't. 

With Tyler's YouTube fame, she figured she would be as insignificant as any random fan that messaged the channel. He wouldn't recognize her. She fucked up. Now she had to live with that. 

So she did the only thing she could do. Continue on.

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She’d gotten a call from her mother, saying that she wanted help moving down to Florida. Eleanor didn’t want to deal with tornados anymore. Emmaleigh didn’t have time to help her with everything she and her husband were doing. 

So on the day, when Georgia brought the mares back home, let them out into the field by the barn and set up their stalls, it was her mother who came out to the barn for once.

“Hi honey.” She said softly, taking her daughter in a weak hug. 

“Hi momma.” Georgia said. They watched the mares for a moment and then her mother spoke.

“Came to bring me down to Florida?” She asked and Georgia shook her head. “And then what’ll you do after?”

“Probably come back here. I got a job offer from one of the local weather stations for camera work. Met one of the meteorologists while I was on the road.” Georgia explained, moving her tack into the barn.

“Yeah? That sounds good. No more competin’ then?” Eleanor asked, as the mare ran back towards the barn. She reached out to rub Twist, who nickered softly to her. Georgia threw a couple apples on the ground under the fence for the mares and then folded her arms across her chest.

“Momma. I need a break. I’m exhausted.” Georgia said, her tone flat. 

“I don’t think you’ll get much rest chasin’ storms either, sweetie.” Eleanor rubbed a hand over her daughter’s back and then glanced back at the truck and trailer.

“Maybe I'm hoping to find something or someone else while I’m doin’ it...” Georgia murmured as she began to walk back to the truck. Eleanor walked with her and spoke even softer then.

“Tyler.” She said and Georgia stopped dead in her tracks. Even after four years, she didn’t think her mother would remember him, but she did. 

“Momma I know what you’re gonna say.” Georgia leaned against her truck for a moment. Eleanor put her hands on her hips.

“All I’m gonna say is if that’s what you want...be prepared for him to not want you back honey. You know what you did. I love you. I do. I always will. But I also know that you know that boy deserves more than you gave him.” She said, then heading into the house, leaving Georgia to think about what she said. Her mother’s words stung and brought tears to Georgia's eyes. She was right. Why would she ever think Tyler would want her back after what she did to him?