#and then nothing gets written and then everyone is stressed

[akaanonymouth]

So now I can and want to finish my winter event fic, and the smutty fics, but opening the laptop also means I have to acknowledge and actually start on the batch of translating work that's just been dumped in my emails, and my brain is absolutely noping the fuck out.

[navybrat817]

Vanilla Frosting

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky takes a call at home and you decide to tease him a bit.

Word Count: Over 1k

Warnings: Established relationship, banter, teasing, dirty thoughts, very slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?) and he worships you.

A/N: I blame these photos as they gave me CEO vibes. And @whisperlullaby and @targaryenvampireslayer . Again, before our couple has Muffin and Bean. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“I thought you said no calls, Boss.”

Bucky sighed and rolled up his sleeves as he looked toward the kitchen. You stood in the doorway with crossed arms and slow building irritation in your eyes. The sight of you always lightened his mood and made his heart race, but that look wasn't a good sign. Oh, he was in trouble.

Some sort of trouble.

As a CEO, he was always prepared to take the fall when it came to his company. Seeing your kissable mouth set in a grim line though? “It’s Steve’s fault,” he blurted out, throwing his best friend under the bus without hesitation.

“Really, Buck?” Steve’s voice rang out from the laptop speaker.

“Yeah, really,” he snapped. When Steve found a partner like you, he’d get why he bent his will to you over everyone else. Hell, he welcomed Steve getting a bit of payback because it would mean his best friend would have found happiness. “I’m sorry, Cupcake,” he added in a softer tone to you.

He didn’t want to take the call, he really didn’t. All he wanted to do was hold you and forget about the stress of work for an evening. He even assured you that there would be no work tonight, but Steve insisted he get on a video chat with some of the executive team. God knew the punk was relentless, but the unimpressed look on your face made him want to fire everyone and start from scratch.

The two of you had plenty of money, so you’d be set if he went that route.

“Steve’s fault, huh?” You slowly smiled after a moment. “Okay. You take the call and I’ll start making some cupcakes.”

Bucky cocked his head with a confused stare as you went further into the kitchen and out of sight. Baking cupcakes wasn't out of the ordinary for you, but you saying “okay” wasn't okay. He knew better. There was no possible way he was off the hook for this. He already had at least ten gifts in mind to buy you once the call wrapped up.

“I love you,” he called after you, not at all ashamed for anyone to hear that as they joined the meeting. If anyone eyeballed him or said an unkind word about voicing his feelings for you outside of the office, they could find another job.

“Love you, too!” You called back.

That brought a small smile to his face. “Let’s get started so we can all get back to our regular evening plans,” he said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.

After a minute, he glanced over the monitor as he heard gentle movement in the kitchen. You weren't slamming things around, which was good. You understood how crazy things could get since you were his secretary. It didn't mean he enjoyed taking time away from the two of you and he didn’t want you upset with him. Even if you weren't upset, he still had to make it up to you. He-

“Hey, Bucky?” Your eyes lit up as you appeared in the doorway again with a small bowl. He was certain he forgot how to breathe when he eyed what you were wearing: a new black and white apron. And nothing else. Jesus fucking Christ. “You want vanilla frosting for the cupcakes, right?”

Bucky subtly shifted in his seat as you sauntered further into the room, his throat dry at the sight of you. The curve of your hips, your hardened nipples teasing him through the fabric. Calling you beautiful wasn't enough. Your beauty was transcendent, indescribable. The kind that made the strongest of people drop to their knees. He was a powerful man, but still just a man at the end of the day and you rendered him powerless. And right now he needed to focus on the call, but how could he focus on anything but you?

He cleared his throat when Jack rambled on about something. Or was it John? Who gave a fuck? “Cupcake,” he growled.

“I know I do. Maybe you can frost me later?” You scooped a bit of frosting onto your finger and wrapped your lips around it with an obscene moan. Thankfully he had his microphone turned off. They didn't need to hear your pretty sounds. “Mmm.”

He groaned when you showed him your tongue. He knew it was frosting, but the image made it easy to picture you wrapping your warm mouth around his cock and showing him his release before you swallowed like a good girl. It took a lot of control not to palm himself. Surely everyone would understand if he ended the call now. Why the fuck did he take this call?

Making sure his hand was out of sight, he beckoned you closer with his finger. If he was lucky he could get you to take the apron off, sit in the nearby chair, and touch yourself. Or you could keep the apron on. As long as he could see your glistening pussy. Even looking wouldn't be enough. He had to get his mouth on it, his cock in it.

But you didn't go to him.

Instead, you tsked with the finger you licked and pointed at the laptop. “Oh, no, Boss. You listened to Steve and took the call. Now deal with the consequences,” you smiled sweetly, turning on your heel and giving him the perfect view of your ass as you walked back into the kitchen.

Yep, he was in big trouble.

Bucky's fists clenched as he got back to the task at hand, but he also chuckled. He deserved a bit of blue balls for the time being. He also had to respect the way you played the game, but he knew how to play the game, too. Before the night was over, he’d be back in your good graces. He’d eat one of your delicious cupcakes before he got a taste of you. And he'd remind you that he didn't have the world because of money, power, or any of that.

Bucky Barnes had the world because he had you.

Oh, these two. 🥰 Steve isn't even upset for getting blamed. 🤣 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[shrimpybbq]

you gotta believe me, baby

synopsis: when a stray bag of coke is found in rafe’s drawer, rafe’s fiancée grapples with its implications

The young woman trifled through Rafe’s desk, the pen he requested lost deep amongst his amalgamation of items. Frustratingly, she kept searching until her gaze landed on a small item strewn under a notebook, the clear bag reflecting in the light. Her heart felt as if it stopped beating. The small bag and its contents were instantly recognisable to the woman, her having seen her fiancé with it many a time. Except instead of keeping it hidden under a book, he would have the white powder diced and sorted into hefty lines on a table, a rolled up $50 set aside ready to help him snort it.

She remained still for a moment before tentatively reaching for the bag, as if it would suddenly change its contents if she waited long enough. And yet, as she picked the bag up it felt like a long forgotten truth was slapping her in the face. Of course it was coke. The woman pondered the situation for a moment for she was sure Rafe was clean - but then again, he had been under an increasing amount of stress lately. Cameron Development had been taking up all of his time, as had the move, so would it really be that far-fetched for him to start using again?

Soon, she began pacing around the room, her mind beginning to catastrophise the situation. It had been so hard to get through each day when Rafe was high, his constantly shifting mood and irritable personality making him intolerable to be around. Her mind flashed to the moments alone, trying to soothe a colicky baby that cried and cried alone in the guest room while Rafe spent his evenings getting high with Barry. She'd never felt so alone and isolated. She had no-one: Her parent's were a no-go, Ward and Rose could only help so much, and Sarah was busy being a teenager. Sometimes, it was as if Wheezie was her only friend, always loving to play with her nephew even if only for a moment. In those moments, she had wondered if any of it was worth it - maybe everyone would be better off if she left to the mainland to live with her aunt, removing her presence from Kildare completely. Rafe hadn’t wanted Charlie in the beginning, not really, and as she cried alone in tandem with her son, she felt it.

Rafe had called out his fiancée’s name three times by now, only to receive nothing in response. Initially assuming she had been sidetracked, it was only once he finally ambled over to his study did he realise the true cause of her silence. Rafe froze at the sight of the bag of white powder flung haphazardly atop his papers, his heart racing as a chill spread across his body. Shit shit shit.

Rafe’s panicked gaze met hers suddenly, each expressing a multitude of worries. Rafe watched as his sweet girl looked at him, so defeated and dejected, her shoulders slumped as she faced him. Initial words began to leave her mouth, only to be swiftly cut off by her partner,

“Baby, please, you gotta let me explain, ok?” Rafe was pleading with her, a tone he rarely utilised unless in the most dire of situations, “it’s not mine.”

Her eyes, once shifted towards the window, snapped back to his frame. “It’s in your desk Rafe! Whose else would it be?”

“Fuck, uh- fuck ok, well it is mine, but it’s not like I bought it last week. Shit, that sounds bad, I didn’t-” Rafe sputtered, his logical explanation getting muddled up as his anxiety grew. He could tell his fiancée didn’t believe it if the tears beginning to escape were any indication.

“Rafe, please, just tell me the truth. You owe me that much,” she pleaded. Rafe felt his heart shatter at the desperation she could not hold back.

“I had this desk moved from my dad’s office, ok? Whenever he used to catch me doing coke, he would lock my supply up in his desk in his attempt to get me clean - not that that ever fuckin’ worked,” he began to explain, “I never even properly cleaned out his desk, baby. I figured he would have something written down that would provide some of his infinite wisdom bullshit that would help me in the future, so I just didn’t touch anything.”

The young woman stared at the Cameron opposite her, feeling rooted to her spot as he answered her questions. Truthfully, she remembered Rafe’s occasional complaining about his dad’s attempts to control his drug habit. She could never truly comfort him properly when she silently thanked Ward, but his statement rang true in her mind. It was plausible that Rafe really hadn’t touched his dad’s things.

“Come on baby, you have to believe me! You really think I would throw all of this,” Rafe gestured, arms outstretched, “us, our family - away for a few fuckin’ ounces of coke? I got better and that’s because of you, because of you being there for me and the kids and - baby please, I’m telling the truth.”

As Rafe begged and pleaded, he had made his way to stand in front of her, taking her hands in his as his fingers gripped hers tightly. She looked up at him, tears still spilling down her cheeks. He had gotten better - ever since they arrived in Guadeloupe, she hadn’t seen him touch cocaine. Alcohol, sure, but even Topper offering him coke at a party had seemingly rolled off his back.

“You’re not lying to me? You swear it? On the kids lives?” She begged, needing to hear him say it again. She wanted to believe him so badly.

“I promise baby, I swear to god. I swear that I haven’t touched that shit in a year. Please, I’m telling the truth baby.”

With his final plea, she felt her heartbeat begin to slow, its return to normal allowing her to breathe properly once more. A large exhale left her body before she flung herself against Rafe, her arms wrapping around his torso. His arms immediately returned the gesture, comfortingly rubbing up and down her back.

“I can’t do that shit again, Rafe. Ok?” She muttered, her voice muffled against his shirt. He leaned down to gently stroke her hair before placing a tender kiss in her hair.

“You don’t need to worry about that anymore. I’m different now, for you and for our family. You can rely on me, ok? I’m always gonna be here for you,” Rafe stated firmly, his words filled with conviction. He felt a small smile tug at his lips as his fiancée nodded into his chest, her arms tightening around him further.

“I love you, Rafe. More than anything.”

“I love you too, baby. It’s you and me ‘till the end.”

As the pair stood in their embrace for a moment longer, they felt the tension seep away slowly and be replaced with tenderness. For such a rocky start to a relationship, the pair had watched each other grow and mature. Neither of them were perfect, but they would never give up on each other. Rafe didn’t believe in soulmates, but if he did, he was certain that the woman in his arms was his.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Forgetting

Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: Jake forgets to pick you up at the airport because of his ex, and for the first time, you think maybe you and Jake aren't mean to be.

Notes/Warnings: Angst, but ends fluffy. Fighting. Cursing. This was a request that I said I'd have done in a couple days and it took me a week and a half. Sorry about that. Also, please be gentle. I haven't written for Jake in what feels like a millennium.

Words: 2700

Jake Seresin Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List

As much as it would kill you to know that he could be hurt, you hope he’s hurt. You hope he’s on his way to the hospital to receive life-saving treatment because if he’s not hurt, if he’s not receiving life-saving treatment, then he simply forgot about you. And that makes your heart want to claw its way out of your chest and scamper across the floor until it’s well out of your range to catch it. 

Your call goes to voicemail for the fourth time. You send your twelfth text: I hope you’re ok. I landed an hour ago. Please call me. Nothing different than the eleven other messages that have gone unanswered. Forty-five more minutes pass of you sitting on a bench by the airport exit before you finally surrender your last shred of hope and call Bradley to come save you. 

Within the hour, you’re sighing in relief, the sight of a friendly face almost bringing you to tears. He approaches you with open arms and you fall right into the embrace, comforted by the hug that should be in your boyfriend’s arms, and the warmth that should be from your boyfriend’s body, and the forehead kiss that should be from your boyfriend’s lips. 

“Please tell me he’s ok,” you say against your friend’s chest. 

A heavy palm rubs up and down your back. “No one could get ahold of him.”

Your head jerks back so you can meet his eyes. “Oh my god!”

“I’m sure he’s fine, kid. Don’t worry.”

“How can you say that? He was supposed to be here and he’s not and–” You pause when Bradley looks away from you, and a hefty stone settles in your gut. You know your friend well. He’s a good man, honest but sensitive, and when that honestly meets that sensitivity, it results in his inability to look someone in the eye if he thinks the truth might hurt them. You’ve seen it a hundred times, but never with you. 

Your posture wavers with your lengthy exhale. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Another great thing about Bradley: he doesn’t make you play any games. You don’t have to jump through hoops. You don’t have to ask the right questions in the right way in order to get what you need out of him, unlike many men, your boyfriend included, who recently has found ways to skitter around telling the full truth. 

“Javy said he saw him a couple of hours ago,” Bradley says.

Your back teeth clench. Your mind shoots to one conclusion. “With her?” you ask. Bradley’s eyes drift from yours again and you nod, a tear at the ready to leak down your cheek. “He forgot about me because he’s with her.”

“We don’t know that for sure, and–”

Your hand scrubbing down your face cuts him off. Your fingers pinch the bridge of your nose before you suck in your whimper and say, “Rooster, why did he even ask me to come here?”

“Because he…I mean, we thought he–”

“You thought he gave a fuck about me.”

“He does,” Bradley says, stressing his words in an attempt to reassure you. “He never shuts up about you.”

“Sure,” you say. “He gives so much of a fuck that he forgot about me to be with his ex. How can you explain that?”

Rooster sighs. His hands slip into his jeans pockets just to have something to do with them. “I can’t.”

“Exactly.” 

No one can explain it. Not you, not Bradley, not Jake. Everyone you know back home would be telling you to run for the hills right now. They were already wary of this ‘Navy guy’ that they’d only met twice around the holidays, who lives a decent distance away from your entire life and who constantly requests that you be the one to hop on a plane rather than the other way around. 

For the duration of your time together, you’ve been understanding of that sacrifice. You know his schedule doesn’t allow impromptu trips out of state, but that hasn’t made it any less exhausting for you. And maybe that’s a sign. Another sign. A nail in the coffin. Maybe you and Jake aren’t meant to be. And why would you be? You met him on a brief vacation to visit a friend who doesn’t even live in the same town anymore, and somehow, during those few days, he convinced you to take a chance on him. So you took the leap. But being that bold doesn’t guarantee you won’t fall flat on your face, and you think that’s exactly what’s happening. You’ve tripped over a guy only to realize he doesn’t care about you to the same degree that you care about him. 

However, you’re not the type to avoid confrontation. If Jake Seresin is going to mistreat you because of his ex, then he is going to do it to your face. He’s going to look you in the eye when he shows himself to be the liar he is. It may hurt more to go to him rather than get on the next plane home without so much as taking in a breath of fresh Californian air, but you’re too upset to let that thought fully develop, and a moment later, Rooster is following your stomps out the door. 

—

You find him at the Hard Deck, standing at a hightop with a beer glass in his hand that clinks against the one in his ex’s before he takes a sip. Bradley’s comforting hand lands on your back in solidarity. You only met him because of Jake, but the two of you bonded despite their differences, and having him by your side now makes him nothing short of a life-saver. 

He helps guide you through the crowd to the table, and when Jake spots you, he chokes around the liquid going down his throat. His blown-out emerald eyes rival saucers and his mouth gapes like a fish, but then his stare flicks to Bradley, and those eyes shrink into narrow slits. His face heats to a boiling red. 

“What the fuck!” Jake snaps, shocking the composure right out of his ex’s poised stance. Bar patrons close by turn their heads but quickly return to their own conversations. Jake steps away from the table, coming to a halt in front of you and his squadmate. “What the hell is this?”

You figured he’d be bothered if you showed up with Bradley in tow. And good, that’s what you feel he deserves. Jake’s been wary of the other Dagger’s closeness to you for a while, and even though you know—as does Bradley—that it’s an asinine concern, you have no problem using it against him now. But still, the intensity of his reaction manages to surprise you. You didn’t think he would be this angered by the sight of you with another man that it would have him overlooking his mistake of forgetting you.

Your arms cross. “This is your girlfriend and the guy who saved her when her damn boyfriend left her stranded at the airport.”

“Excuse me?”

Jake’s ex’s prying gaze tugs at your attention, but when you glance over his shoulder to catch her in the act, she quickly looks away—just more proof that whatever the fuck she’s doing with your boyfriend is something to be ashamed of. 

Bradley’s saying something. You can’t quite hear him over the anger-induced fuzzing in your ears, but you’re pretty sure it’s a scolding based on the twisting of Jake’s features as he shoots back his own words of aggression. And then your hand is in his and you’re being pulled through the bar, out the back door, and onto the deck where the only intrusive sound is the lapping of waves on the shore. 

“Why are you here?” he asks. 

You scoff to mask the heartbreak that comes with that question. “Because you asked me to be here.”

“Tomorrow.”

“What?”

“It’s Wednesday,” he says. 

“It’s Thursday, Jake.”

“No, it’s—” he freezes, and you don’t know if he’s tipsy or stupid, but it takes him a minute to come to the same conclusion: it is indeed Thursday. “Fuck,” he mutters.

Your lower back meets the edge of the railing, and you sigh, thankfully keeping in the tears. “What are you doing with her?”

“What the fuck are you doing with Rooster?” he returns much more forcefully. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I called, I texted, I left voicemails,” you tell him, “But clearly, she was more important.”

Jake’s hands pat down his pockets, mouth setting in a frown when he can’t find his phone.

“Don’t bother. Phone or no phone, you forgot about me because of her. Last time I was here, you were late for one of our dates because of her. You spent fifty percent of our time together stepping away to take her phone calls,” you say, trying and failing to avoid the bitter taste on your tongue. “Just fuck her, Jake, if you haven’t already. I only came here to tell you that she can have you.”

You’ve never seen him fall apart the way he does. You’ve never seen the blood drain from his cocky face. You’ve never seen his features break and crack and contort into the vision of pure devastation as they do. His parted mouth must’ve gone dry because his next words come out slightly hoarse.

“You don’t mean that,” he says, but it’s more of a plea than anything. “Why…Why would you–” He swallows. A wrinkle forms between his brows and he shakes his head. “You love me. You didn’t mean to say that.”

You do love him—terribly so—but you’re willing to be one of those people who won’t view love as enough if it also means laying you out as a fool. “Jake–”

“Take it back,” he says. His steps are quick, and then you’re trapped where you stand, his hands on either side of your body, gripping the rail. Eyes drill into yours, and for a second, you feel a pang of guilt. “Please, baby, take it back. She doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“And I mean less.”

“No!” he says. “That’s not true. You’re everything, ok? You mean everything to me. She was just helping me, that’s all.”

“Helping you,” you mimic with a roll of your eyes. “Helping you what? Get off?”

With a little whine, Jake’s head drops between his shoulders, his blond hair brushing your collarbone. “Please. Please quit saying things like that.” His hands slide closer to your body and land on your hips. You don’t push him away—you can't—and his touch softens you ever so slightly.

“Then tell me the truth,” you say. “Right now. I’m giving you one shot.”

His head snaps up. His eyes flick back and forth between yours, ironically searching for your honesty, as if you’re the liar on trial here. 

“It was a surprise,” he tells you. “She’s a realtor now, and for the last few months she’s been helping me find a new place, one that’s bigger than what I’ve got because I was going to ask you to move in with me.” Your heartbeat stutters. A layer of goosebumps coats your arms. When you don’t respond, he continues, “I hate missing you. I hate how unfair it is that you’re always the one to come here because I can’t fly out at the drop of a hat. I know it’s a big step, but I figured if I had a place, I could show you how great things could be. That’s why she and I came here. We were celebrating because I’m signing on a house first thing tomorrow,” he says. “Well, that’s why I’m celebrating, anyway. She’s probably celebrating because she just made a decent commission.”

It’s almost unfair how that new information doesn’t make you feel any less of a fool. Had he told you that under any other circumstances, you’d be leaping into his arms, kissing him like you’ve been deprived of him for years, repeating ‘yes’ over and over between those kisses, but you can’t. You can’t because his explanation doesn’t fix everything. 

“That still doesn’t change that it’s Thursday, not Wednesday,” you say.

“I know, baby. That’s my fault. I was so excited, and I was thinking how perfect the timing was that I would be able to pick you up tomorrow and drive you by the house now that it’s officially mine, but I fucked it up.”

Jake’s thumbs press into your hips, and you’re instantly reminded of each moment in your relationship when you’ve felt that same light pressure on your skin. A gentle claiming. The same pressure you felt when you agreed to be his girlfriend. The same pressure you feel whenever you’re in bed together. 

You sense eyes on you other than your boyfriend’s, and when you turn your head, you find his ex staring right at you, an expression on her face that you wish you could say wasn’t one of distress, but it is. And worse, it’s obviously not distress for herself, but for Jake, as if she’s hoping she wasn’t just a contributor to a bomb dropping on his life. 

Jake’s busy staring at you despite your averted gaze, and in a monotone voice, you say, “She feels bad.”

He doesn’t follow your eyes. “Because she knows I’ve been doing this all for you.”

You blink. Your hand runs down your face before sifting through the strands of your hair. “You really want me to live with you?”

“Of course I do,” he tells you. He’s shaking his head, but you know it’s because he thinks any idea that he wouldn’t want you to be blasphemous. His hand cups your chin. “I love you.”

With a sigh, you push aside the rollercoaster of emotions, the misunderstandings that lead to frustration and hurt, and look him directly in the eye. And where moments ago you thought you saw lies, you see honestly. Where you thought you saw betrayal, you see love. 

“Can I see it?”

—

It’s small—a two-bedroom with a little driveway, the shingle siding painted a blue-gray shade that is more blue than gray; bundles of flowers bloom in the boxes under the windows; a bay window protrudes from the side of the structure facing the beach. And it’s perfect.

You can imagine building a life here. You can picture a dog that you’ll have to build a fence for and children years later that will have you reinforcing the fence because they’ll probably be like their father, and Jake didn’t choose to be a pilot because of his lack of adventurous nature. You look at this house and you can see the core of a family. A house that, no matter how far you go for Jake’s job, will always be home base.

Jake is leaning around you so you can both watch the house from the passenger seat window. “I’d offer to show you around, but I don’t get the keys until morning.”

“It’s ok,” you tell him. “I don’t need to see inside.”

When you say that, he falls back into his seat. The back of his head presses against the headrest. His fingers squeeze the steering wheel with his sigh of defeat. “You don’t like it.”

Shifting your body to face him, you say, “Jake, I love it.”

Just like that, his eyes brighten like a pouting child who was just offered a lollipop, and you can’t help but chuckle. You can’t help but forget everything that happened earlier in the night, all of it seeming so insignificant now, even though you know it’s not, and you both know that if he ever makes the same mistake again, he’ll have hell to pay. But something tells you that won’t be a problem. 

“Enough to live with me?” he asks.

You nod. “Enough to live with you.”

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Comments make my entire world, so if you liked it, let me know? Thanks :)

[b4ddprincess]

honestly, it is your fault that you're still here 🤷🏽‍♀️ (long rant incoming...)

a lot of my posts are basically the same information written in other words, and y'all still view pure consciousness as the opposite of what i'm telling y'all, and ask a bunch of questions that don't even need to be asked.

if y'all can't accept the truth, then continue accepting the misinformation that circulates around tumblr, and still 'struggle'. pure consciousness is WAY 👏🏼 TOO 👏🏼 SIMPLE 👏🏼 TO INDUCE for y'all teenagers and adults to still be overcomplicating it like this!! y'all don't feel shame?? are y'all not tired???

respectfully, i have see WAY TOO MANY false info circulating around tumblr on pure consciousness, and WAY TOO MANY posts making pure consciousness sound so personal and deep (and they haven't induced pure consciousness themselves 🤦🏽‍♀️ but y'all took their points and ran with it 🏃🏽‍♀️💨). it is not deep. it's as shallow as sleeping, but no. y'all rather follow a routine u saw from someone's success story and spiral when you didn't induce pure consciousness. y'all aren't susceptible to facts. like- AT ALL

y'all won't stop coming to me with the sameee questions based on the wrong information yall picked up, and expect me to give y'all an answer you're hoping for? i'll be endlessly repeatin the SAME 👏🏼 FRICKIN 👏🏼 THINGS 👏🏼 OVER AND OVER back to y'all!!

if y'all want a different answer, it's gonna be liessss and i will NOT be sharing lies.

now i am all in for helping persons understand what pure consciousness truly is (which is literally the point of my blog 😐) but y'all refuse to accept the truth no matter how it's written.

STOP SEEING PURE CONSCIOUSNESS AS SUMTHING HUGEE!! IT'S ON THE SAME LOW LEVEL AS SLEEPING AND BEING AWAKE READING THISS!! EVERYTHING IS CONSCIOUSNESS AND AWARENESS!!

MANY of y'all should be living y'all dream lives by now, but no. y'all rather stress and worry, than accept the truth and apply it 🤷🏽‍♀️ o well- that's on you.

"but-" OKKK, AND??? IM STILL GONNA BE REPEATING THE SAMEEE INFO TO YOU ANYWAYYY!! what do y'all want me to say??

nothing is hard about getting distracted or carried away by your own thoughts! you just do it!

have y'all never gotten distracted by your own thoughts in class before? huh? have y'all never ever been so immersed in a daydream about a crush before? HUH?? i know MANY of y'all have, cuz MANY of yall tryna manifest sum sp yall so head over heels for.

literally my first three pure consciousness resources to y'all were enough. what more do y'all want?

"but, u see.. i'm experiencing bad circumstances, and i NEED to induce pure consciousness NOW" LIKE EVERYONE ELSE!! AND I STILL WILL BE TELLING YOU THE SAMEE INFORMATION!! YOU THINK YOU'RE GONNA RECEIVE SPECIAL TREATMEMT?? DO YOU REALLYYY THINK YOU'RE GONNA GET A DIFFERENT ANSWER FROM EVERYONE ELSE??

NAH!

y'all really need to start applying! y'all do challenges and routines with ease, but when i told y'all how to induce pure consciousness the basic, traditional way, suddenly is "BUT BUT BUT BUT BUT"

BUT WHAT?

IS YOUR BEHIND ITCHING U THT BADLYY DAT U CANT SPEAK PROPERLY??? if not, then NO BUTS!!

are not y'all not tired? like- i know. you can wake up as pure consciousness if you're a little shaky about inducing it awake. and i know there are persons who have induced pure consciousness and manifested their dream lives with the wrong information. but if you're not gonna induce pure consciousness awake and try another manifesting method, then that's law of assumption.... ANOTHER THING Y'ALL "STRUGGLE" WITH 🤦🏽‍♀️ and then yall are running to loass bloggers who already provided y'all the info y'all needed in their posts 🤦🏽‍♀️ sigh.....

now, if you know this is targetted toward u, lemme tell you something😑 ☝🏽🫵🏽☝🏽🫵🏽☝🏽🫵🏽 you are too grown to be hopping from method to method, and running from blogger to blogger hoping for a cheat code, cuz there literally is none. you are either gonna get facts or an overcomplicated answer.

as much as i really didn't want to write a full-on rant about this, i just think y'all are too grown for this typa behaviour 🤷🏽‍♀️ it's honestly getting a lil ridiculous now.

i love being a blogger i can't deny ☺️🩷 but y'all need to wake up and stop treating pure consciousness as sumthing big. it is not.

[pastryfication]

oscar x reader who has a cochlear implant

sudden silence | oscar piastri

summary: your cochlear implant isn’t always your best friend, but when it fails you at the worst possible time, you feel panic like never before. note: i hope this is what you imagined!! i researched quite a lot to make it as accurate as possible but please correct me if i’ve written something inaccurate xx

everything was loud around you. the engines roaring to life again and again cut through the air and the crowds erupted in cheers whenever they caught sight of a car. the announcers were talking animatedly over the loudspeakers, their enthusiasm clear even if it was just free practice. and on top of all that, the general hustle and bustle also sounded in the background. the high-octane atmosphere was almost headache-inducing. everything was slowly becoming too much for you, the noise deafening, drowning out your thoughts, until suddenly, everything stopped.

suddenly, everything was completely quiet. not a single sound of oscar’s pit crew talking loudly. not a single tyre screeching on the track. just complete silence.

your hand immediately reached up to the small implant in your ear. don’t panic. you forced yourself to take a deep breath. glitches happen. just count to 10 and it should be working again.

1, 2, 3, 4 . . . you took a deep breath again . . . 8, 9 . . . 10 . . .

nothing happened. the silence lingered, the disorienting feeling wrapping around you like a heavy blanket. one of the engineers started shouting something and suddenly everyone was running around, but you couldn’t hear them. you couldn’t hear anything.

you could feel your heart beating away in your chest while your hands started to tremble, clamminess forming in your palms. you tried to steady your breathing again, tried to calm yourself, but everything was suddenly overwhelming. relax. you thought. you can fix it.

fingers fumbling, you reached for the implant, quickly checking the battery. it was still there. adjusting the settings didn’t work either, and it dawned on you like a comet from the sky. there was nothing you could do.

the panic gripped you from the inside and moved into occupying your entire body. hearing was crucial at the track. not just for communication but for safety as well. what if you missed an important announcement? or something critical happening on the track? what if oscar crashed and nobody could tell you?

the visual stimuli—the flashing lights, the cars zooming by, the people moving around you—became slowly overwhelming without the grounding presence of sound. the sensory overload only added to the panic already formed by your thoughts.

what were you supposed to do? alert some of the employees? no. you couldn’t disturb them from their job. find someone else to help? you mind did a quick once over of the people attending the grand prix, but no one who would be able to help you came to mind.

you were on your own.

୨୧

oscar immediately stressed when he exited the car after fp2, finding out that you were gone from the garage. and no one knew where you were.

you had left somewhere in the middle of the session without telling anyone.

it instantly worried him, and with a frown on his face, he made his way to his small drivers room.

you don’t hear him enter, but suddenly, his figure was standing in front of you, a frown on his face as he said something. you couldn’t hear it. it was as if he was miming the words, no sound escaping his mouth.

he must have noticed something in your facial expression, because suddenly, he stopped talking. his face morphed into an even deeper frown of concern, and his hand moved up to point at his right ear, his question evident in the unspoken.

you only nodded, looking down at your fingers instead of meeting his eyes. was he disappointed that you had left?

you didn’t get long to ponder, because he quickly took a step forward, his hand meeting shoulder first to alert you of his closeness before he pulled you into him, both arms wrapping tightly around your frame and squeezing you against his chest in a hug.

the two of you stayed there for a while, his hand rubbing your back gently as you sniffled slightly, trying to keep the pent up tears at bay.

someone must have knocked on the door, because you felt oscar chest vibrate as he lifted his head to shout something in reply, but he didn’t pull back from you.

there, in oscar’s embrace, with his arms shielding you from the outside world, his lips pressing reassuring kisses into your hair, you knew everything would be fine. you could call the audiologist in a moment, and everything would be fixed. but for a moment you actually enjoyed the silence, because you know that oscar won’t let anything happen. with him, you were completely safe, and as long as you had him, nothing could go completely wrong.

[venus-haze]

Sick as a Dog (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: Day 25 - Underwear stealing/sniffing. Soldier Boy is America's first superhero. The greatest man who ever lived. Larger than life itself. A sleazy chauvinist who's getting off on your panties in a motel bathroom. [AO3 link]

Note: Written for @cozycornerevents Kinktober! Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. I think this is my first Soldier Boy fic set in modern day…anyway it was fun writing mean and gross Soldier Boy🤭

Word count: 1k

Warnings: Soldier Boy-typical misogyny. Sexually explicit content involving masturbation, panty stealing/sniffing, degradation, voyeurism.

You couldn’t relax around Soldier Boy, not when Butcher and Hughie left you alone with him in that damn motel room. It was almost impossible to focus on the TV with him so blatantly eyeing you like a piece of meat. Tried to do the arm-over-the-shoulder move so he could grope your breast, and called you a prude under his breath when you scooted further down the couch. 

Sure, he was attractive, but you weren’t about to mix business with pleasure—especially not with a guy who, when introduced to you, asked Butcher if they only kept you around as “stress relief,” as if you weren’t even standing in front of him. Maybe you should have gone with MM and Annie after all.

“I gotta use the can,” he grumbled, scratching his crotch before standing up from the couch.

The tension slowly released from your body the further away he got from you. Picking up your phone from the coffee table, you saw a missed text from Hughie: Sorry to leave you on supe-sitting duty. Everything good?

You sighed, your thumbs hovering over the keys before sending back: Yeah. Nothing I can’t handle.

Threw in an emoji at the end so he wouldn’t feel too bad. It was kind of your own fault, anyway. You decided to go along with Butcher and Hughie because part of you still naively believed in Soldier Boy’s heroism, his authenticity. And then you actually met him. Heard the shockingly crass way he talked, a relic of a time you had no interest in reliving.

You were just about to text Annie when you heard it.

A name. Your name. Low and gruff and mean coming from his mouth.

Putting your phone down, you glanced in the direction of the bathroom. 

You knew your best option was to just ignore it when you heard him say your name again—turn up the volume on the TV and ignore the way heat flared up between your legs at the grunts he didn’t even try to keep down. Instead, you stood up, your heart beating faster with each step you took. The motel room wasn’t all that big, didn’t take very long at all to get to the bathroom door, look in where he’d left it open a crack. 

Had he been careless? Or did he want you to watch?  

You gaped openly at him, pumping his hard cock with a pair of your used panties bunched up in his hand, sliding it up and down his length. Black, satin with a little bow, it was one of your favorite pairs you brought with you, too, and you weren’t sure how to feel about him having chosen that one to get off with, to ruin. You looked back at your duffel bag, wide open and clearly rifled through. Supposed you were trying too hard not to pay attention to him to pay any mind to his violating your privacy.

“That’s right, take it, you fucking slut,” he growled. “You might not be their stress relief, but you’re gonna be mine.”

How the hell was this the same guy whose PSAs you watched throughout your school years, telling you to pledge allegiance to the flag and say no to drugs? He was sick, hypocritical, a symbol of the worst of American debauchery. Every subsequent word that came out of his mouth was vile, objectifying—should’ve repulsed you instead of going straight to your pussy. Your brain was screaming at you to go back to the couch and pretend you didn’t see anything, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him.

“I’ll make sure you can’t fucking walk tomorrow, have to carry you over my shoulder and tell everyone what a slut you are for my cock.”

Your breath caught in your throat. He squeezed his cock harder, his pumps more punishing, frustration radiating off of him as his precum soaked through your ruined panties. Could you even bear to wear them again, knowing all the things he said and did with them bunched up in his hand, picturing you in their place, bent over the motel room sink, or anywhere else he could think of in that deviant mind of his.

“How bad do you want it? C’mon, I wanna hear you beg.”

“Please,” you whispered despite yourself.

“I know you’re out there,” he taunted, startling you. “I can hear you panting like a bitch in heat. Why don’t you come in and give me a hand?”

With a gasp, you found your legs again and ran back to the living area. Fell over yourself to get onto the couch and make the TV louder, anything to drown out the sound of his groans, your name mixed with curses as he came just a few feet away. 

Your face was on fire, and you sat with your hands folded between your legs, trying desperately to ignore the want that had overtaken you while watching him. You were better than that, better than debasing yourself for someone like him. Still, a shiver ran down your spine when you heard a gruff, drawn out “Fuck” over the sound of the stupid Vought A Burger commercial that was on.

The sink ran. Toilet flushed. Your head was pounding when he walked out of the bathroom and back to the couch. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, throwing your panties at you.

The balled up garment landed on your lap, wet and heavy with his cum. With a reluctant, trembling hand, you pushed it onto the floor.

Your voice cracked as you half-heartedly told him, “You’re disgusting.”

He scoffed, his arm draped across the back of the couch, the tips of his fingers brushing your shoulder. “You should take it as a compliment. There’s plenty of other broads I could’ve jacked off to—Hayworth, Bardot, Fawcett—”

“But none of them had their panties lying around here, did they?”

“No, they didn’t.” He was silent for a moment before breaking into a grin. “I’m gonna get you to fold sooner or later. Then, I’m really gonna make you beg for it.”

“Don’t bet on it,” you mumbled.

[glitteredrry]

maneater

summary: Harry feels inspired by the woman who is holding his heart in her hands. Harry’s true feelings come out during a recording session, and his heart is on the line.

warning: angst & fluff

wc: 2.4k

I haven’t written in so long, and I was feeling inspired. Please let me know how you like it. I own no rights to this song (just in case lol). I hope you enjoy!!

Harry looked at his Rolex for the fifth time in an hour. He checked the time, awaiting the arrival of his…well, he was not sure what to call her. His girl? Well, no, that’s not the correct title. His lover? That’s not even close to what he was to her. Harry didn’t know the correct title to give her, but he did know that she wasn’t his, yet he was all hers. Luna Gray was her name, it was her stage name. Her birthname was for him only; regardless, her name was on the tip of everyone’s tongue.

Harry and Luna were signed to Columbia Records, and both were some of the biggest stars in the world. Harry met Luna when she signed to the label in 1981, and the first time they met, Harry was electrified to his core. All she had to do was look at him, and Harry mentally fell to his knees.  To Harry, she was perfection; the only problem was that he wasn’t the only person who thought this. Let’s just say that Luna was loved by many, and for Harry, it started out not being a problem but slowly developed into one a year later. Luna would explain to all the men she got involved with that she is not someone who could be tied down. She had one goal, which was to be a star. No one or nothing could get in the way of that dream. Harry understood this the first time they slept together, yet as their sexual relationship began to grow, it was somewhat difficult for Harry to hear about the endless men she was caught up with. 

Harry could admit he fell in love with her, yet Luna had no idea about Harry’s feelings towards her. Luna continued with her life as normal, while Harry continued to suffer in silence. He knew how Luna was and that her motto was to cut off men once they fell in love. She told the world she enjoyed her life as a single lady in Hollywood. So, as Harry spent the time drowning in his feelings, he caught inspiration to write a song when a picture in the tabloids was released of her with a star athlete. He couldn’t control his jealousy, which was feasting inside him. He was angry, saddened, and felt like an idiot for being in love with someone who told him she wasn’t going to be tied down. Harry continued to pour his emotions on paper, letting go of everything he felt. What he forgot about, though, is that Luna was coming to listen in on his studio session, and this was the only song he was going to record today. This is Luna and Harry’s thing. They were both artists, so it wasn’t out of the norm for them to listen in on their studio sessions and provide notes. 

Harry genuinely didn’t want to record this infront of her, but he couldn’t waste paid studio time either. Instead of consistently checking the time, he decided to leave the studio for a smoke break. With each inhale, he felt the stress leave his body until he watched her sleek red Mercedes Convertible pull into the parking lot. Her curly hair was all over the place as she pulled in; her eyes were on Harry’s immediately as she parked. She stepped out of the car with a smile, hoping Harry would forgive her for running a little late. Harry watched as the Los Angeles sunset dipping below the valley illuminated her skin. Harry kept his eyes on her, continuing to smoke and soak in the sound of her heels hitting the pavement. She looked beautiful as she approached Harry; without a word, she grabbed the cigarette from his hands, taking a hit of it.

“You mad at me?” Luna said, exhaling the smoke as it brushed across Harry’s face. 

He shook his head ‘no’ because he truly wasn’t mad. Even if he were, she would never know it. “You were supposed to be here an hour ago.” He said, eying her up and down. Lust and anxiety coursing through his veins.

“I got caught up in something. Forgive me, sweetheart,” she said with puppy eyes. Her eyes still held this twinkle in them as if she was playing a game with him.

“Something or someone,” Harry said, letting the jealousy slip. He hated when his mouth would speak before his brain could. Luna smiled at his words, throwing the finished cigarette on the ground and crushing it under her heel.

“Are you sure you want to know?” she smirked, moving past him to enter the studio. Harry felt a slight pang in his chest as he followed her inside. As Luna entered, she sat on the couch and said hello to the sound engineer. Harry nervously picked up the paper and headed to the booth. Just before he got in, Luna called out to him.

“I’m excited to hear the song, Harry.” Her eyes were glowing, and Harry could tell that she was being genuine. Harry and Luna shared a deep connection when it came to music. They both had the utmost respect for each other as artists. Harry smiled at her, briefly looking at her before entering the booth. Harry put on his headphones and signaled that he was ready. Once the beat of the song kicked in, Harry watched as Luna bobbed her head to the music and waited for Harry to start singing. Harry felt his throat swell up in trepidation. Instead of focusing on Luna, he closes his eyes and sings from his heart. 

Oh-oh, here she comes

Watch out, boy, she'll chew you up

Oh-oh, here she comes

She's a man-eater

Harry finally opened his eyes when he got to the middle of the song. He looked through the glass as he watched Luna on the couch with an unreadable expression. Her legs were crossed as he watched her hanging leg bounce. As the song faded out, they kept eye contact with each other. The song engineer cleared Harry to remove his headphones, and He watched as Luna stood on her feet, waiting for him to come out. Harry apprehensively stepped out of the booth, feeling the immediate tension filling the room. Harry could see her facial expression had morphed into clear anger, so he decided to have the room for himself for a while. When they were both alone, Harry chose to speak up. 

“How did you like the song,”

“How did I like it?” She asked, irritation coursing through her body. “Let me think of how I feel,” she laughed mockingly. 

“Listen, I know how it sounds, but hear what I have to say first.”

“Why should I listen to you right now? You brought me here to shame me. All because your feelings are a little hurt, suddenly I should come with a warning label. Well, newsflash, Harry, I told you everything upfront from the beginning.” 

“I know that, but trust me when I say none of what you said matters now. Not when I feel like this, not when you know I feel like this about you.”

“Don’t do that. You’ve never told me anything, Harry you-”

“Cut the shit, just because I haven’t verbally mentioned it, I know you know. You know it in the way I kiss you, in the way I touch you, and when I make love to you. That’s on me that I never said anything, and I hate that it had to come out in this way, but don’t act oblivious. I never told you because I know you’ll run away like you have with others.”

“Then why are you telling me now?”

“Because if that’s the risk I must take, then so be it. I can’t live with this inside me anymore. If you decide to run off, that’s on you. Yes, I will admit my feelings were upset seeing you with someone else. I wrote a song about it. That’s what I do. When I can’t speak my feelings, I sing them. This is the only song I was going to record today. I promise it wasn’t to hurt you in any way.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t hurt getting called a maneater.” She rolled her eyes and folded her arms around each other as she turned her back to Harry.

Harry watched her and decided to step closer to her, “I apologize if I hurt you; that’s never what I want. You have to believe me on that. I’m saying it now: I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours,” Harry pleaded with her. Luna soaked in his words, hearing the sincerity in his voice. She couldn’t face him. Yes, Luna believed him and knew that Harry wasn’t lying at all when he said she secretly knew. She did. She enjoyed feeling like Harry would always be there. It was this feeling of security she didn’t have with any of the other men she would casually date. This sense of security was something that she was scared to have pulled away. She didn’t want to commit out of fear of relationships, yet she knew she didn’t want Harry to be gone forever. Even though she knew Harry loved her, she thought she had a longer time to decide whether to commit. It felt like she was now faced with an ultimatum. Instead of answering him, she deflected. “Harry, you’ve seen girls to-.” She was once again cut off with Harry’s words.

“No, don’t do that. You know, every single girl is PR. I stopped doing that altogether once I felt more serious about you. Don’t divert this back to me. Do you want me at all? Or is this where this ends.” Harry said with a deep breath, finally asking the question. He would be lying if he didn’t feel like 100 pounds were sitting on his heart, waiting to be lifted off. All it would take for this anxiety to lift is her uttering the word, ‘Yes, Harry, I want you.’ Yet, what he heard come out of her mouth next left him shocked where he stood. Luna turned to face him with a stone-cold expression, “I can’t do this, Harry.” Luna walked past him to exit the studio, brushing his shoulder as she passed. As her hand touched the cold door handle to leave, Harry muttered what he thought would be his last word to her. 

“This is what you do, Luna. You run away, and I don’t know why I thought it would be any different for me.” Harry said, feeling himself getting more emotional that he wanted to be infront of her. Without another word, Luna slammed the door behind her.

As she walked down the long hallway, her heart and mind raced. ‘What did I do?’ She thought to herself. She knows she has a connection with Harry. Without a doubt, she knows that. Yet, she was still scared to commit. Past relationships had driven her to live this bachelorette lifestyle. Luna stopped in her tracks, leaning against a wall. “Fuck,” she muttered to herself. Luna had a real decision to make right now. She could either run off to her car and avoid Harry forever. Or go back into that studio to be with the only man who has ever treated her right. Luna finally knew she could listen to her heart, saying just to trust. She had spent years listening to her brain and severed many lovers because of her mind. Her heart was saying to her don’t let this one go, Luna turned on her heels and headed back in the same direction she left. Harry was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands, soaking in everything that had just happened. He heard the door open and, without looking, thought it was the sound engineer returning.

“Hey man, I need a few more minutes.”

“I love you, Harry Styles. I’m sorry it took this long for me to admit it.” Harry’s head shot up in shock, looking at the door. He watched Luna close the door behind her as he rose.

“Say it again,” he said breathlessly as she approached him. As she reached him, her hands went on opposite sides of his face, and she looked him in the eyes. 

“I love you, and I want you. I want this. There are no promises for how fast we will go, though. I haven’t been in a relationship in a long time.”

“I don’t care if we take one inch a day. That’s all I needed you to say.” Harry towered over her, pressing his lips on her. Luna leaned in the kiss, soaking up all of Harry’s love. Her heart felt something it hadn't in a while, true peace. It felt as if all the walls she had spent so hard creating came crumbling down all at once. Harry picked her up, sitting on the couch with her in his arms. Harry deepened the kiss, tangling his hands in her hair. Luna relaxed in his lap as her body felt like it was on fire. Harry broke the kiss as they both panted against each other's lips. Both of their mouths curved up into a smile.

“Sloane, I love you. I think I always have. It’s impossible not to be. I promise I want this.” Luna’s cheeks beamed at her real name slipping from his lips. She couldn’t begin to explain this feeling in her body. 

“I’m excited about this, Harry. And you’re doing a real civil duty keeping me from eating more men.” She said, teasing him about the song.

“Baby, If the song upset you, I’ll scrap it.” Her index finger lightly brushed over his lips to shush him. 

“To say it upset me is an understatement. I would be a complete fool if I watched you let go of that song. It’s a great song and can be our little secret that it’s about me.”

“Deal, baby.” Harry smiled at her, happy that she was okay with him putting the song out.

“Now you have to make it up to me, though,” she said seductively. That’s all it took for Harry to feel that similar yearning. 

“I’m going to spend all night making it up to you, I promise.” Luna kissed Harry again, and she let Harry express his love for her. Both of them decided to use the studio for the night so that Harry’s promise could be kept. Luna and Harry couldn’t be more in love than they already felt. It made the wait that Harry had to endure all worth it. 

[dont-look-its-embarrassing]

To Be Seen

Azriel x Reader

This is my first ever one-shot or fanfiction type writing on here, so be patient with me bc it will be FAR from perfect or good.

This is purely self-indulgent bc again, I'm new at this and just wanted to write an insert or y/n type little blurb.

Summary; Being the best friend of Feyre when she was human, you regretfully got roped in and turned with her sisters as a tool for manipulation by Hybern. As the sister's find it hard to settle in claiming the attention of the two other bats, you attempt to make Feyre's and the inner court's life easier by flying under the radar and figuring it out on your own. However, are you really as unnoticed as you hope or is a certain shadowsinger entrapped by your caring and soft nature as his heart battles his mind for the third sister or you.

Warnings: None really, mentions of PTSD and anxiety, loneliness and self-help, slow-burn, slight angst with a fluffy ending, reader just wants to be seen but feels like she can't ask

Word count: 2,389

Pt2

The sound of a door opening broke you out of your thoughts as you sat in the drawing room in the house of wind. The gentle crackle of the fire Infront of you allowed your body to sit comfortably within the rather cold season and the book you were just reading sat loose in your lap. You haven't gotten used to your enhanced hearing yet as your now longer and thicker hair gently fell from where you had tucked it behind your ear.

"Y/n?" Your best friend's voice echoed into the room as her footsteps followed. A soft smile spread across your features as she came in, confirmed you where there, and plopped down ungraciously on the couch next to you. "Thank the mother you are here."

Her features where stressed, the worry written all over her face as she took your form in.

"What's going on?" You ask, hopeful to help.

Feyre let out a sigh as she let her eyes wonder to the fire Infront of the both of you.

"Nothing. Everything. I don't know, it seems that everything I do to try and help Nesta and Elaine seems to only make things worse." She rung her hands, a trait she picked up back in the human lands when she was nervous or upset. "It just never seems enough to make them comfortable or to try and apologize for everything that happened."

Your best friend's eyes slightly widened as she took her gaze from the flames.

"How are you? Are you doing okay?" The genuine care and concern oozing off of the female Infront of you reminded you of why you cared so much about your friend in the first place. When she was taken, you had searched high and low for her in hopes to get her back only to have her return happy and healthy with a loving man, or male, doting on her every need. You were ecstatic, and expressed yourself as so, even if it was with fae beings. When you and her sisters were taken, that happiness was put on hold to make sure that you are all where comfortable. Feyre's self-sacrificing nature did always drive you mad, even now when she was so close to being truly happy.

"I'm okay Feyre." She shot you a look, trying to dig deeper and call the bluff you made. "Seriously, I'm here with you and in an amazing place that I could only dream of with great people."

"A lot happened Y/n. A lot happened to Elaine and Nesta, but a lot happened to you." She was right, and it was weird for you to be so put together when the worlds of the other two were falling to pieces. With your more emotional and strong relationship with Feyre, you had been held captive with her sisters yes, but you also took the brunt of interrogation that the wicked king deemed necessary to gain any information of her court. You had put yourself in that position, you knew how awful she would feel about her familial blood being brutalized in such a way, so you took the heat. But, in the end, her sisters still took the change harder and refused to accept their new life, making everyone on edge and overexerting themselves to help.

With one look at your best friend's-tired eyes, you knew that she couldn't handle another burden. More like she shouldn't have to handle another burden.

The word tasted sour on your tongue.

Burden.

Shaking your head a small gentle smile graced your face, and you forced your features to emulate that same energy.

"I'm okay Feyre, really. Aside from some cool new power thing that I haven't figured out, I'm fine. " The breath she released could only register as relief in your mind as she met your smile.

"Okay, and we will definitely start working on that when we are all settled here." Her reassurance did little to reassure that it would be investigated. Again, with the two sisters gaining war altering abilities, your random energy (that had yet to manifest) would be put on the back burner until everyone else was settled. Again, the slight dismissal ached, but you understood the need for others to take precedence.

Giving a little nod, you two sit in silence for a bit just listening to the crackling of the fire and enjoying each other's presence. That is, until a wince rippled across your friends face and she slowly rose.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. I think Elaine is out and not talking to Lucien and it's a mess-"

"It's fine Feyre, go make sure they are okay." You assure with the same smile. Giving one last 'thank you, I love you' she was gone like the wind that howled outside the windows. The silence that followed her exit had the ringing in your ears become a bit to unbearable. Removing yourself from the couch, you travel down to your room and grab a quick change of footwear.

Today would be a good day to explore the town, or at least good enough to get your mind out of the dark slump of trying to acclimate to its' new body and abilities.

Making your way towards the door, a small flicker of shadow catches your eye.

"Hello?" You call. You know that Rhys is most likely with Feyre and Azriel is also probably there because of Elaine, so you dismiss it quickly after a moment, chalking it up to just a trick of the light.

Opening the door, the slight chill on the wind has a shiver run through you, but the sun quickly chased it away. Breathing a sigh, you look at the vastness of the stairs below you.

No time like the present.

Taking one step at a time and avid breaks when needed, you would rather not admit to yourself just how much time that trek took. However, upon reaching the bottom, the satisfaction that filled you outweighed the journey. Walking down the streets of Velaris, the bustling normality of the people filled you with ease. As your heels clicked against the stones below, your gaze just missed the little shadow that trailed behind your body.

Taking in the colors and vibrant people, the ease and happiness that covered their faces had the ache in your gut grow more and more. Your mind wandered to if you would ever be that happy and mundane. With everything that had happened so far, the familiar life in the human forest (although had its struggles) seemed like an ideal. It was the lack of routine, lack of knowledge, the newly sprouted life, the misplacement, all of it plus more. You didn't notice your breathing gain more weight and take longer to fill your lungs than it did at the house. You also didn't notice the little skitter of the shadow that had followed you as it raced away towards some unseen location. The heat in your body seemed to increase as the sight of a simple family loving and walking together entered your mind.

Would anyone love you like this?

You couldn't think.

Ducking into a nearby ally, the overhead sheets and covering allowed it to be shaded and darker than the streets 20 feet away. Even then, the darkness of the ally seemed to illuminate with your presence there. However, it wasn't the light, it was the lack of grasp of oxygen you could inhale and the strenuous shaking your body couldn't stop. The tears that fell without your knowledge burned their tracks into your skin and sizzled as they hit the ground. Your body gave way to the spasms that took ahold of you as your mind raced. Burring your head into your knees, you attempted to shut the world out and let your mind slow but to no avail. You wished the darkness of the alley would swallow you whole, allow the sun and light to escape you being seen just this once.

Almost as if your prayers where in fact answered, the light surrounding you died as the darkness of the ally surrounded you. Picking your head up to view what cloud or magical being answered your plea, your eyes were met with those of hazel crouching Infront of you.

"Azriel?" You hadn't met this male for more than a couple days ago. He was nice, offering to go with you places or chat every so often. You had a couple nightly talks with him where you shared some stories between the two of you. Nothing out of the ordinary though, you felt safe around him when he was near. Confusion washed your features and for a moment your brain stopped running in circles and focused on why the male might be in front of you in this very unfortunate situation.

"You're okay." His large hands had gently pried your head from between your own. He Slowly, as if not to spook you further, reached for your hands and took them in his own. As twisted as it sounded, the morbid scarring that littered his skin grounded you further and pulled you back to this moment and out of that forsaken cell and cold water. "Focus on me, breathe."

The ease of your breath returned as the seeming dark cloud that surrounded you peeled back revealing that same dampened alleyway. However, the slight char on the walls and burns on the ground was distinct enough to question. Looking around, more of those marks surrounded you but faded as it got further from you. Opening your mouth to ask, a quick look from the male had you hesitant as he shook his head.

"One thing at a time sunshine." You nod, ignoring the small butterfly that hatched in your stomach at the nickname, but the pain in your head from the little outburst brought you back to reality. Bringing your hand up to caress the muscle between your eyes, Azriel scanned you from head to toe checking for any other possible injuries. "Let's get you back to the house, okay? Have Madja take a look at you and maybe give you something to help process."

Although the beginning of his statement was directed at you, for an answer, the second part was mumbled more to himself.

"Okay." The short response was all you could get past your lips as he sent you a small smile and opened his arms.

Looking at him questionably, he held back a chuckle.

"Have you never flown?" Shaking your head, no, you had never flown before. Winnowed? Yes, but never in the arms of one of the three males residing in the same house at you. The aspect of Azriel being your first had a little flush cover your cheeks. He approached you carefully, scanning your eyes for any aversion to being touched or space invaded. If you didn't just have a literally breakdown in the middle of Velaris, you could've sworn there was a deeper emotion residing in his eyes.

Guilt?

Worry?

Longing?

You couldn't place it and decided not to keep the process waiting. Taking a step towards him, he kept his arms spread out to accompany your space against his.

"Wrap your arms around me." His voice was lowered with your closer proximity. Slowly you brought your arms to wrap around the back of his neck. He waited until you settled there before moving to hoist you up into his arms and walk slightly out of the alley to give his wings more room to take flight.

While doing so, you couldn't help but settle into his warmth as it felt nice against our colder frame. With all the adrenaline wearing off, you were left shivering.

"Make sure to hold on." He noted, which was all the notice you got before suddenly you two were no longer on the ground. Tightening your grip instinctually, you shut your eyes as you could practically feel the male smile at your nature.

"How did you get down there anyway?" With the loud wind it was hard to hear, but again due to the lack of space between the two of you his voice rang clear.

"I walked."

"Down those?" Without realizing the easygoing atmosphere he created, you had peered open your eyes to look down at the stairs you both were currently soaring over. Only a brief look however as you still had some human tendencies and did have a slight aversion to heights.

"Yeah." You nodded and went to shut your eyes once more to finish out the flight, but as you did you caught sight of a new look on the spymaster's face.

Pride.

Landing as softly as possible, Madja was already there waiting for the two of you to arrive. Without thinking, you blamed it on the spymaster's shadows (but grateful they were there). Feyre also stood to the side of her, worry wringing her hands again and you let out a sigh of defeat.

Stumbling out of Azriel's arms, he steadied you, giving a once over before his high lady had shot him an inquiring look. She looked at you shortly after.

"You are never to lie to me again Y/n, you hear?" Her chastising voice was filled with love and worry all the same.

But before you could open your mouth to respond with a thousand reasons why you might, a certain male beat you too it.

"Don't go too hard on her, admittedly we have all been a bit busy to check in." You both glanced back at the male in question as his shadows wrapped around him in song. He has said it was so to promise his attention to fix the problem, which warmed your core.

"She will be okay Feyre." Meeting eye contact with him, he had sent you a small nod of his head and smile before disappearing into the dark.

Your best friend looked at you in question, but a deeper thought was spinning in her head. However, the little throat clear of the healer nearby jumpstarted the next 24 hours of care and therapy from your best friend and the best healers in Prythian. The whole endeavor couldn't tear your thoughts to a certain inner court male and the way his arms felt around you.

Maybe you would be okay.

[oracle-of-dream]

Bad Habit

Summary: Jiwoong's your partner in class studying bad habits. You happen to chew on the inside of your mouth and bite your nails. It's not healthy! He feels compelled to find a new way to help you.

Warnings: Male Reader, Jiwoong is a caring man, Finger/Hand fetish, Finger Sucking, Hair Pulling, Oral Fixation, Blowjob, Cum-swallowing

Wordcount: 2.5k

It's been a habit you've had for a long time. Maybe even since you were a kid. Any time you felt stressed out, you naturally started grinding your teeth. It felt like your brain was running out of air, your ears buzzed, and you couldn't think straight unless your mouth was occupied. After a while, it changed to chewing gum, sucking on lollipops, biting your nails... whatever you needed, to keep your brain running. It was just so relaxing.

The clouds looked so fluffy today. You chewed on your index finger while letting your mind wander.

"Y/n, your assigned partner is... Jiwoong." Your professor's voice snapped you back to reality.

Looking around the room for context clues on the topic, you noticed everyone was sitting in pairs. Talking to one another, and discussing plans.

A man by the window stared at you, his dark eyes locked with yours as he smiled. He waved you over and you took your bag to sit by him. "I'm Jiwoong. We'll be partners for a while for the project. Do you get everything that's happening?" He asked with a soft smirk.

You hated partner work. It complicated things, and you didn't even know the topic. And this Greek statue of a man was your partner–it smelled like you would be doing it all alone anyway. "No, I missed the explanation. I'll go and ask the teacher."

Jiwoong shook his head. "No need. I can explain it to you." Jiwoong explained the entire project idea with amazing clarity– as if he had written the assignment himself. It was a simple experiment to study bad habits. Each group was meant to learn about their partner and identify a bad habit and ways they can try to prevent it.

"Oh, that's super simple. What's your bad habit, Jiwoong?"

Jiwoong chuckled. "I thought we were supposed to learn about each other. Where's the fun if I just tell you the answer?"

"What do you suggest instead?"

"How about lunch? You can learn a lot about a person over a meal." Jiwoong started packing his bag. You followed him, packing your back, and walking to the campus cafeteria.

You tried to study him while walking, but he gave nothing to work with. It was time for a different approach. "Do you have any hobbies?"

"I work out," He said shortly.

"Favorite foods?"

"I like fruits, mostly the sour ones."

"Um... fears?"

"Next question."

You continued asking general questions until you sat at the table across from him. It was beginning to irritate you how nonchalant he was being. The static in your brain started taking over, the rising sound of ringing in your ears. Before you could enjoy your food, you started chewing on your chopsticks. The feeling of rolling your tongue over and around the cold metal soothed you in an instant.

"Y/n?" Jiwoong called.

"Mmh?" You mumbled as you looked over your food, deciding what to eat first.

"Actually, never mind." Jiwoong picked up his utensils and started eating with you.

You tried to study Jiwoong while he ate, but he was still perfect. An impeccable wall, with not a single crack. Meanwhile, Jiwoong studied you back with sharp eyes that occasionally met yours. Eventually, figuring out the other got boring and you let your mind wander again. Going over what else you had to do after lunch. Go to another class, study for a few hours, and then you have to stop at the store to get food for dinner.

Unconsciously, your hand scratched your chin. But instead of putting your hand back down, your thumb found its way to your lips. Your lips parted and you started chewing on your nail.

Jiwoong sucked on his teeth. "Don't bite your nails. It's not healthy for you."

You obediently put your hand down. "Whatever," you mumbled. You continued with your meal, occasionally glancing at Jiwoong and catching him closely watching your hands. You ate your meal but somehow you ended up biting your nail again.

Jiwoong stood and grabbed your hand, his eyes coated with a hint of irritation. "Don't bite them," He warned. "Or is this your bad habit?" Jiwoong smirked at you as he shook your hand in his.

"I guess it is."

"So, now we're supposed to find a way for you to break that habit." Jiwoong went through his bag and pulled out a lollipop. "Just suck this instead, okay? I read before that the best way to break that habit is to do something else."

You took the candy from him to see the flavor. "Is this butterscotch? Who eats this?" You tossed it back to him.

"It was just a random flavor, I didn't specifically pick that one. Just eat it." Jiwoong unwrapped it and pressed it to your lips, leaning over the table to reach you. You turned your head, which forced Jiwoong to hold you by your chin and guide the candy to your lips. He was soft when handling you. Holding your chin up so you were looking at him as his thumb brushed against your lips. Your lips parted for a moment and he seized the opportunity to slide into the opening. Just for a moment, Jiwoong's finger passed into your mouth and then left. His eyes were tender but piercing and you felt something inside you snap...

Jiwoong let you go and sat down. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be so pushy–I was just trying to–"

"It's fine... I have to go. I'll see you around." The words spilled out of your mouth quickly as you scooped your belongings and rushed out of the cafeteria, your mouth filling with saliva as you did.

You could only make it to the bathroom before spitting into the sink. Your skin ran hot in waves, almost pulsing. Every time you closed your eyes, you could see Jiwoong's face holding you as his hands slipped into your mouth. Locked in a stall, you tried to calm down but the candy wasn't helping. Even biting your nails wasn't good enough anymore. You sat on the toilet, closed your eyes, and put your fingers on your lips. You saw Jiwoong looking at you with so much care as his fingers pushed into your mouth, letting you suck on them. He moved his long fingers making you gag as he held you by your neck–he wouldn't let you back away from him. Your body twitched and squirmed as your brain went black. Softly, you started humming, then moaning as you felt pleasure from your mouth being occupied. Less than a minute of this made you finish in your pants, you breathed heavily as you returned to reality.

You were sitting in the bathroom. Fingers dripping, lips swollen, and a dark spot in your pants that couldn't show how messy it was in there.

You cleaned yourself up, had to use your bag to cover your crotch, and left the bathroom. After a few minutes, you could feel an itch at the back of your throat. No matter how many times you coughed or rubbed your throat, it wouldn't go away. By the time you got home, it was unbearable. Drinking something cold or hot and eating cough drops. Nothing was working... Until you had an idea. Slowly, you put your index finger in your mouth and started to suck on it. The itch stopped and your head was at peace again. But anytime you stopped, the itch wouldn't stay gone for long.

Were you really that much of a freak? You couldn't focus unless something was in your mouth. You had to buy more candy that night to try and calm yourself, but you barely slept. At all. And the next morning was even worse, even your fingers weren't doing the trick anymore. You needed something longer to touch the back of your throat, to itch it directly. But your gag reflex would stop you from pushing anything too far... You needed someone to scratch it for you.

You struggled through the school day. Every minute felt like an hour. But you just needed to see him again, to ask for help...

When your psychology class came, you booked it into the classroom. Jiwoong was there before you and smiled at you walking in. Your body's immediate reaction was to start salivating as if it knew what would come. You approached Jiwoong as calmly as you could, trying to drink down as much spit as you could before speaking.

"Jiwoong, about yesterday–"

"I really am sorry about that. I shouldn't have been so forceful with you."

"No! I'm really not offended."

Jiwoong chuckled. "Well if you're sure. Just let me know if I can do anything to make it up to you, I just feel bad."

Your brain rang in alarm. This was your chance. "I–uhm, actually do have something you can help me with."

His eyes brightened. "Sure, anything."

"Can you come with me for a bit? Now?" You tried to contain yourself but the way you said "now" was almost like a moan. Jiwoong nodded and followed you out of the classroom. You led him down a few hallways until you found a secluded spot.

"What's wrong? Is it bad?"

You nodded. Struggling to keep it together. You picked up Jiwoong's hand before speaking, "I-I need a serious favor."

"Say it."

Your face burned with embarrassment with the words that came out of your mouth, "Can I please suck on your fingers?"

The silence was deafening. You stood there, unable to look at his face, waiting for his eventual judgment. But it never came–Jiwoong moved his hand to your lips. "Do I need to do anything specific?"

"You'll let me!?"

Jiwoong nodded. "I said I'd make it up to you. So, sure."

You couldn't hold it back anymore. You didn't waste another moment as you closed your eyes and took two of Jiwoong's fingers into your mouth. You pushed as far down as possible, gagging immediately as your body shook. You felt Jiwoong pull his hand away, maybe out of fear for your safety, but you opened your eyes to look at him. You silently begged for more.

Jiwoong moved his fingers back into your mouth, making your eyes roll. It felt so much different when he moved on his own.

You pulled off completely, swallowing a deep breath first. "C-Can you... do it?"

"D-Do what?" Jiwoong's eyes were wide as he watched your every move.

"Please... can you help me?"

"Just tell me what to do."

"Can you take control a bit? You can stop, but I can't do it alone."

Jiwoong smiled, cupping your cheek. "Okay, I can. If that's what you need, I'll do it. My way." Jiwoong fixed his stance before you, his energy completely switching. "Kneel for me," He commanded.

Slowly you knelt and looked up at him.

"Oh, that's perfect." He stroked your cheek again before putting his two fingers on your lips. "Open." You shivered at receiving the order as your mouth wrapped around his fingers. Jiwoong held the back of your head with his other hand and pushed you forward. His fingers pushed into your mouth as your tongue wrapped around them. They tasted sweet, like sugar, and were so soft. Jiwoong played with your tongue, stroked the roof of your mouth, and looked deep into your eyes the whole time. His chest rose sharply as he gripped your head tighter, his breath loud and ragged. "Y/n, stop for a second," He pulled you off him, leaving you gasping for air.

"Why? Please, don't stop–I'm not finished." You begged, almost crying from the absence.

"I know... I need help too." Jiwoong pushed your head toward his crotch, gently asking. "Can you help me too? It'll be good for us both." Sucking his fingers was the only thing you'd thought about. But now Jiwoong was offering something else... From what you could see from the bulge in his pants–he's huge.

You nodded slowly. "Please, let me suck it."

Jiwoong unbuckled his pants and let his cock out of his underwear. It slapped against your face. It was heavy and warm. It smelled clean with a hint of sweat. He tapped it on your face a few times before he pulled on your hair. "Open... Please." You could hear Jiwoong straining, trying to keep himself from being too rough with you.

You gently opened your mouth and went to reach for his cock. Jiwoong swatted your hand away. “No hands, just–let me.” Jiwoong slapped his cock on your tongue. “You’re so cute… It’s almost bigger than your face. Lick it, baby.” Your tongue darted out, giving small kitten licks, precum salty and sticky on the stiff muscle. Jiwoong’s jaw clenched as you swirled your tongue around the tip, then licked along his shaft slowly. “Very good,” He mumbled. “Just like that, keep going.”

Your spit dripped down his cock as you licked, almost choking on your spit as you climbed up it.

“Can I fuck your mouth?” Jiwoong grunted. You nodded gently, eyes begging for more. Jiwoong pushed into your mouth, cock heavy on your tongue as the tip hit your throat. “So wet–” He started moving, listening for your moans as the vibrations traveled up his cock. Every touch of the back of your throat hit the spot perfectly. You gagged, but with Jiwoong holding you there was no way to pull away. “Brace yourself.” Jiwoong started speeding up, now both hands were holding your hand as he moved your head on his cock in time with his thrusts. Your throat bulged as his length dove down your throat. You twitched and shook at the sensation overload. Jiwoong didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

He grunted at every thrust, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Sorry–” His next apology was cut off by his orgasm crashing over him. His cum spilled into your throat, while his cock was still deeply invested in you, forcing you to swallow. “Take it… Every drop,” Jiwoong grunted as he pulled his cock from between your lips and took a good look at you. Red, teary love-struck eyes, swollen lips, breathing heavily. You enjoyed every second of it and couldn’t feel the itch anymore. Finally, you could think soundly. Then the thought of what just happened crept into your mind.

“Jiwoong, I…”

Jiwoong looked around while slipping his cock back into his pants. “We should get out of here.”

“About that, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t get rid of that feeling and I needed something…”

Jiwoong helped you to your feet. “I needed you too,” He kissed you, tasting himself on your lips. “And if you need assistance regularly, I can do that.”

You nodded. “I’d like that… A lot.”

Jiwoong’s hand slid down your stomach, “And, I can even repay you for–” Jiwoong’s eyes widened as his hand reached your crotch. “Did you cum already?” You slowly nodded. “You need some extra pants? I have my gym pants in my bag.”

“Yeah… if you don’t mind.”

[evergone]

Lonely

Theodore Nott x Legilimens! reader

Warnings: Swearing.

Description: The reader has no friends until destiny (in the form of a boy named Theodore Nott) does everything to make her feel like she belongs.

In your first year, you were put in a dorm by yourself. You heard so many times that this was a gift — a sign of your good fortune, Professor Trelawney said — as everyone else in your year group had to share with someone else, but you, the introvert you were, were left to your own devices. Despite these assumptions, you quickly discovered that sharing a dorm was central to establishing friendships, and you spent the vast majority of your high school life friendless and alone.

At times, your boredom and your loneliness were so all-encompassing that you would read the minds of the first years who you knew wouldn’t be capable of sensing the imposition upon their thoughts. None of them thought of much. The boys were preoccupied with daydreams of girls and music (most of them were very into hip-hop as was the popular culture of the nineties), and the girls were nearly all stressing about parties and school work.

You were as much at ease with your situation as one could possibly be. You were of the mindset that if there was nothing you could do about it, why bother? Everyone had their cliques, their friends, and you were just the one to be left out. Your only goal was to get through the remaining year, then you would leave school, rent a house somewhere obscure, become a writer or an archaeologist or something else fun, and start your life over again. But it appeared that destiny had other plans.

Destiny, that supreme, omniscient, omnipotent concept that dwindled above and twisted within the interactions of all peoples, came to you in a free period you were spending in the library. The period before had been Charms, but that was of no consequence, neither was the fact that you had no more classes until later that night when you would make the journey to the Astronomy tower. You were sitting at a desk in the far left corner of the library, tucked between the pages of a number of books written by Z-named authors of some incredibly niche portion of history when Madam Pince’s high-pitched and troubled voice disturbed your rather unproductive attempts to finish your homework.

Ever bored, and hardly ever entertained, you leant to the side to see around the long bookcase. To your surprise, your eyes immediately met with a pair of blue ones. The irises were mere spots lost in the oceans of colour and they darted between you and Madam Pince, desperate for assistance. Behind those eyes, you could hear his mind asking for your help. If you was slightly smarter, you would’ve avoided this person’s gaze altogether and returned to your work.

“Madam Pince,” you said before allowing yourself a moment to think, and the frustrated librarian’s head turned to you in owl-like frustration, “Is everything okay?”

“Not at all,” she said, her voice an angry whisper, “Mr Nott should be in class, instead, he’s here violating my books!”

You glanced at the owner of the eyes. The green lining of his robe told you he was from your house, so you knew him even if only from afar. He hung out with the big group of your housemates most of the time, but you’d observed that he often sat by himself in the common room and the others intruded on his personal time. He was tall — probably six feet or so — and thin, with hair that was darker than blond, but most definitely not as dark as some of his friends’ hair. In the traditional sense, he was handsome, but you’d heard him speak in class before, and his voice bore an awkward intonation as if to speak was to curse which made him seem almost as nerdy as yourself. Despite this, every movement he made seemed elegant no matter his emotion, this was so inherent of a feature that even in that moment — when he was so clearly itching to turn and run — he was like a swan. His name was Theodore Nott, and you’d never spoken to him before.

“He’s supposed to be helping me with my homework,” you blurted out and Madam Pince quirked a pencilled-on eyebrow, “You know I’m terrible with, uh, Ancient Runes.” You both had that class together.

“Yeah,” nodded Theo as he stepped around her and stood by your side, “The professor said it was okay, I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.”

“As am I,” she frowned, “Tell her not to let this happen again.”

“Yes, Madam.”

With an irritated hum, she left the two of you alone. Theo turned to face you once she was out of earshot, and let out a sigh of relief before sitting down on the edge of the desk you were at.

“You’re in Slytherin,” he said obviously, “What year?”

You sucked in a breath of air, “Sixth. Yours.”

“Oh.”

His brain exploded with a million thoughts at once, his conscious and subconscious fighting for dominance. You could hear the embarrassment as he reprimanded himself for not knowing, and the confusion as he searched his memories for some sign that he had, in fact, seen you before.

“We have Potions together, and Astronomy, and Divination, and Ancient Runes, and… most of our classes, actually.” You shrugged without a care.

Theo cringed, “Sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever noticed you before.”

“I don’t really make my presence known,” you said, “So don’t worry about it.”

“I’m Theodore Nott,” he introduced himself, hand outstretched towards you, “What’s your name? I don’t want to make the same mistake next time.”

“Y/n L/n,” you said and shook his hand. It was soft and had no callouses at all.

“I best be off, I’m missing Arithmancy.”

“Boring.”

“You’re telling me,” he chuckled and left the library.

Over the course of that afternoon, you were unable to tear your mind away from Theo, and none of your homework was completed as a result. You didn’t go to dinner in the Great Hall. Your mind was much too preoccupied to eat.

At eleven-thirty, your alarm sounded, and you washed your face in preparation for Astronomy. Professor Sinistra demanded that all her students wore their uniforms for her classes, even if said classes were at midnight, but there wasn’t a single person who ever did that other than Hermione Granger. Everyone else tended to pull their robes overtop their pyjamas and call it a day, yourself included.

The lesson wasn’t all that interesting as Sinistra had the class chart some stars for the whole hour. However, you barely managed to get anything done because you were so distracted by Theo who was sitting peacefully at the opposite side of the tower amongst his friends. Including Theo, there were five of them (you didn’t include Crabbe and Goyle, who you always thought were less friends than goons, or Millicent Bulstrode or Tracey Davis, both of whom you knew were periodically hated by the others). Two girls, three boys.

Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, and finally, Theo. At seventeen, his hair was a mostly consistent length of woody brown curls that sat fluffily on his head — if anything it was maybe a bit shorter on the sides. His eyebrows were thick as they always were, and in that particular Astronomy lesson, they were hard pressed against the tips of his long eyelashes that seemed almost too feminine to belong to him. By far the most intriguing and attractive aspect of Theo was, of course, the prominent mole on his left cheek that stole your attention away from a tight-lipped smile he had thrown your way.

Your immediate reaction was to blush and avert your eyes, but upon glancing back and noticing he was still staring, you offered him a short wave. He nodded in response before turning to Draco and saying something too far away for you to hear.

The next morning, or, perhaps, later that morning is the right expression, you went to breakfast in the Great Hall. Not having eaten dinner the night prior had left you so completely starving. You could’ve eaten a pegasus. You sat down on the edge of the Slytherin table by yourself, and loaded a plate with two eggs, about five slices of bacon (it very well could have been more, your memory isn’t perfect), a piece of toast, and a spoonful of baked beans.

“Where are all your friends?”

You looked up to see Theo standing over you chewing on the end of a breadstick.

“Why do you ask?” you questioned.

“Because you’re sitting here by yourself and it looks a bit pathetic, L/n,” laughed Theo teasingly.

“I don’t really have any friends.”

“Oh,” said Theo, “Sorry I asked.”

You shrugged, and as he glanced to the middle of the table you shoved as much of the baked beans into your mouth as possible, and quickly swallowed them. Merlin’s beard, you were so embarrassed.

“Give me a sec,” he said absentmindedly and you almost thought to use your Legilimency on him, “I’ll be right back.”

He placed his breadstick in front of you as if it were a deposit meant to reassure you that he’d be back, but you weren’t fazed either way. You watched as he jogged over to his group of friends and started chatting with them, but never sat down. With his right hand, he motioned back at you, and you glanced away as the rest of them turned to get a good look at you. Suddenly, you were concerned about how well your makeup was applied, and if your uniform looked good, and if there was still too much food on your plate. And then, all of them stood up with their plates, and followed Theo over to sit around you.

Most of them sat on the other side of the table, but Theo sat next to you, and Blaise by his other side. He introduced you to everyone: Goyle, Crabbe, Draco, Pansy, Daphne, Blaise, himself (“but you know me already,” he’d joked).

“It’s crazy to think we don’t know you despite being in the same house as you for the past six years,” said Daphne and Pansy elbowed her in the waist, sending her a death glare.

“Excuse her,” Pansy smiled awkwardly, “She’s a bitch.”

Your ears tickled at the word. You weren’t used to people calling those they were friends with such vulgar names… You weren’t used to the idea of friends at all.

Draco started rattling off about half-bloods and “that darn Potter,” spurring his friends into a rather heated conversation. They laughed and cackled loudly at each other, entirely easy around you as if it didn’t matter at all that they didn’t know you.

“Is this okay?” Theo asked you in a whisper once the group had moved on to another topic of conversation.

“Yes, this is nice,” you responded with a blush over your cheeks as you tried not to smile, “I don’t remember the last time I spoke to so many people.”

Theo’s eyes softened, glazed with a thin layer of water that informed you of his empathy. He felt your loneliness as if it was his own. The image of a young version of himself locked in his bedroom, wailing for his long deceased mother, flashed in his memories and seeped into your brain. An involuntary consequence of your extraordinary Legilimency talent.

When Saturday finally arrived, you slept in the whole morning. You only awoke at the sound of a knock on your door followed by a series of laughter at ten o’clock. You rolled out of bed, and for a moment stopped in horror of your hair in front of the mirror to quickly tie it up, and then opened the door.

You were surprised to see Pansy and Daphne there, but even more so when Daphne asked, “It’s Hogsmeade day, why aren’t you ready?”

“Huh?” You said, squinting at the light of the hallway.

“Theo sent us up to grab you, get some clothes on and let’s go,” said Pansy as she pushed past you and slipped into your room, Daphne hot on her heel, “Merlin’s beard, there’s absolutely nothing in here.”

“Yeah, uh, I’ve got it all to myself,” you muttered.

“Oh, that’s got to be terribly boring,” said Pansy.

Both of the girls made themselves at home as they rummaged through your drawers looking for something nice to wear. They were both dressed very well themselves, and it made you a little self-conscious to think they were going to see all your cheap clothes.

Pansy threw a sheer white shirt you didn’t know you had and a pair of bootleg jeans onto your bed while Daphne kicked over some matching joggers and a big white handbag you’d stolen from your mother.

“It is terribly boring,” you said.

As the three of you descended the stairs (after you got dressed, of course), you could already hear the sounds of masculine voices teetering on yelling at one another. One of them you knew to be Theo’s, and while you weren’t particularly familiar with them, you were inclined to assume the other two voices were Draco and Blaise. At the bottom step out of the girls’ dormitory hallway, you were proven correct when you saw them bickering like old men at a weekend golf tournament.

Draco was the first to notice the three of you, and his grey eyes lit up at the sight, “L/n, come settle an argument for us.”

You walked to join the small group and stood beside Theo, your handbag held meekly between your fingers, the nails of which had magenta paint flaking off them.

“Your mate Theo here—” Draco gestured to him with an uninterested hand, and you nearly laughed at the idea that Theo was your mate more than he was any of the others’— “Thinks that we ought to have a Legilimens registry like we have for Animagi. Frankly, I think it’s absolutely blasphemous that we even have one for Animagi; let them run wild, I say! What are your thoughts? Don’t mind the coincidental pun.”

“I’m afraid I’m a bit biased in this conversation,” you spoke quietly.

“How do you mean?”

The faces of the group stared at you with raised brows, and eyes that glistened with interest, and you were red from the attention.

“Well, I’m a Legilimens,” you admitted, “So, I’d have to disagree with you, Theo, for my own sake.”

“Are you really?” Theo asked to break the silence, and you nodded shyly.

“That’s so cool!” Daphne all but squealed, “What number am I thinking of?”

“Seven.”

She brightened with delight, and slapped Pansy’s arm, encouraging her to try your magic out like a little game. Pansy did just that, and you ended up going around the whole group, describing what they were thinking of. Eight. Twelve. Bakery. Seven. And Theo was questioning why you weren’t already on the way to Hogsmeade.

With that final thought, they grew disillusioned by the game, and you began the walk to Hogsmeade.

You’d never been into town with other people before, not that you went much at all. You usually stayed in your room, or wandered the halls, towering over the first and second years who weren’t allowed to go on weekend Hogsmeade trips yet. But there you were, forming one kink in a string of knots engaging in stimulating conversation about the current condition of the world, and even boring conversation about the homework for Defense Against the Dark Arts which, to you, seemed so thrilling even if only for the fact that it was verbal discourse in some form. You’d forgotten what it was to converse with others.

“Is there anywhere you need to go once we get there?” said Theo once you were nearing the end of the path and closing in on the town.

“I would have been awake before Daphne and Pansy got to my room if I planned to go anywhere today,” you joked and he smiled, “If you don’t mind, I might just go wherever you go.”

All he offered in response was a hum, and it left you thinking that you’d somehow made the air around you awkward. You’d later come to learn that he was just like that, never much of a talker if he thought the situation didn’t call for it.

Almost instantly after you passed sign that read ‘Welcome to Hogsmeade,’ the group dispersed, and Theo and yourself were left to do as you pleased.

Your companion, it seemed, didn’t have much he wanted to do either, so he led you to the Three Broomsticks. Kindly, he offered to pay for a butterbeer or two, but you didn’t think you were close enough for that, so you humbly told him it was alright. You sat in relative silence until our drinks arrived when Theo struck up some conversation.

“What have you been doing all these years by yourself, L/n?” He asked.

“I don’t know… Stuff…”

Theo laughed, and you laughed along with him. Your mind was frazzled by the alcohol, which kept refilling itself as you chatted on, and every so often you found thoughts that didn’t belong to you creeping into your mind, but you couldn’t place who they belonged to. It was just the odd word — sad, or pretty, or damned, or Y/n.

“Nott, are you and Malfoy good friends?” You asked.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”

“You seem to argue quite a bit.”

“He’s just like that,” said Theo, “Likes to start shit for no reason, that one.”

You giggled, and he grinned happily. Another person’s thoughts seeped into yours once again, that time a full sentence: ‘I love her laugh.’

The bell that hung over the entrance to the Three Broomsticks jingled, and though you couldn’t see it behind you, you watched as Theo’s expression morphed into one of guilt. You turned over your shoulder, and made out the figures of the four people who had come with you. Each of them were wearing a disappointed look on their faces.

“What in the name of Merlin are you two doing?” asked Pansy, her tone equal parts concerned and amused.

“Nothing,” said Theo.

“Yeah, if ‘nothing’ is code for drinking all day,” said Blaise, “Snape’s gonna have your asses for this.”

The others guided yourself and Theo back to the castle. Your hand was attached to Pansy’s forearm, Theo’s arm was slung over Draco’s shoulder. By the time you reached the Slytherin common room, You were sober enough to move on your own, and thus, started your way up to your dorm.

“Where are you going?” Theo asked curiously. He was far away enough that you couldn’t smell his breath which stunk like the vomit he’d expelled from his body halfway through the walk back.

“My room,” you said.

“No, no, no.” He shook his head and then closed his eyes from the dizziness. “It’s sleepover night. You have to come to our dorm, I made room for you on my bed.”

“I used to sleep there because he’s got the best mattress out of the three of them, but we figured you might prefer to sleep beside him than Blaise,” Daphne explained.

“Oh,” you breathed, “Do I need to contribute anything?”

You hadn’t had a sleepover before. You didn’t know the proper protocol. You assumed one would need to bring at least their pyjamas and a pillow, maybe some sweets of some kind to share. But Theo shook his head, and you were in the boys’ room before you knew what was happening.

The boys’ dorm room was the opposite of yours. So exquisitely full, and intricately messy. The three beds were all the same size as yours with dark green bed hangings, and each about a metre apart.

Closest to the door and to their small shared bathroom was Theo’s bed. On the right, beside the door to the bathroom, he had a tower of books that acted as a wall. His sheets were black, but his pillows and blanket cover were a dark oceanic blue-green. There wasn’t much room, but you spied a large mess under his bed which you assumed was what he’d removed from the bed to make space. On his bedside table sat a small lamp that provided the only light in the room before Daphne declared it was far too ‘dark and gloomy’ and turned on the central light.

On the floor, directly under the light, there was a large medieval-style rug that bore our house crest, and the others sat on it lazily, ushering you over.

“I need a smoke,” said Draco, and he walked over to the window where the ashtray was.

“Me too,” said Theo as he also moved to the window, “You want one, L/n?”

“I’ve never smoked before.”

“Then I shouldn’t get you in the habit,” he smiled, “It is such a terrible habit to have. Costs more than it’s worth.”

He pulled a box of cigarettes from his pocket and offered one to Draco, and they both lit them with their wands.

“Does it taste nice?” You asked.

“Not particularly,” said Theo.

“Why do you do it then?”

“You’re so curious, L/n,” Draco teased.

Theo playfully slapped him on the chest, “Leave her alone,” he said, and then turned to you, “I’m an addict.”

“That’s got to be bad for your lungs, Nott,” you frowned, suddenly concerned.

“Don’t you worry about him,” said Pansy, a knowing smirk on her lips that told you she was well aware you’d continue worrying.

The night went on much shorter than you wished for it to. You’d hoped, perhaps too eagerly, that none of you would ever sleep. Far too much did you enjoy being awake with those people who you’d met too late in yout life. You were truly happy to have met them because for all the simple joys you’d managed to discover in your time alone, none were half as happy as those grand joys you found with them

You all took turns getting changed in the small bathroom (Theo lent you a shirt to wear), then you all slid into our respective beds. You were nervous about sleeping beside Theo because, in truth, you didn’t really know him. But he placed a pillow between you, and only faced you for a moment — a moment in which there was a look in his eyes that you couldn’t decipher, a moment in which you attempted to read his mind all too late — and then he kissed his fingers, and he touched them to your head, and he turned the other way.

“Did you sleep well?” Theo said once he noticed you were awake the next morning.

“I’ve never slept beside someone before,” you explained nervously, “I think it was a decent experience. I hope I didn’t move around too much.”

“Not at all, L/n,” he said.

A hum escaped your mouth, and you were acutely aware that Theo was watching you as you stared up at the roof of his room. Painted on it, Sistine Chapel-style, was a beautiful lush green forest.

“L/n. It’s so formal to call you by your surname.” Theo let out a disapproving tut.

“I call you by yours?” You said as you looked at him from the corner of your eye.

“You’re the only one who does.”

“It’s your name!” You raised your voice slightly before lowering it again so as to not wake any of the others up. “What else am I supposed to call you?”

“Theo,” he said, “That’s what everyone calls me.”

“And what false-name shall I bear, then?”

He chuckled quietly as he finally sat up. He raised his long arms in a stretch that exposed the bottom of his stomach and his V-line, and you glanced away until he returned his arms down to a cross in front of his chest. You took notice of his hair, which was awfully messy in the morning, and you thought he should get his hands on a bonnet to take care of it, but then you thought he probably shouldn’t. A silk pillow would’ve done him wonders, though.

“A nickname for Y/n,” said Theo, “How about Y/n/n?”

“I suppose that will do,” you said as nonchalantly as possible, but inside you were screaming with excitement. A nickname! You’d never had a nickname before.

“Oh, you suppose, do you?” he teased.

Your amused smile betrayed your insincere attempt at a pout, “Don’t make fun of me.”

“Don’t let anyone else call you Y/n/n, alright?” said Theo, and you crossed your brows in question, “I want it to be just an us-thing. They can call you your full name at most.”

He was extraordinarily bossy. But it was sweet. Heartwarming, even.

“Wait, but if everyone calls you Theo, I want something just for us, too!” You blushed at how overly familiar that sounded, but Theo’s rosy cheeks filled you with conviction. “How about Teddy?”

Giddily, he smiled at you, “Say it to me in a sentence.”

You frowned, but obeyed, “I like being your friend, Teddy. — How was that?” He nodded happily, “You say one for mine, now.”

He thought for a moment, trying to decide on a sentence to say.

“Read my mind, Y/n/n.”

Always, he had to boss you around. But, again, you really didn’t care. It was just nice to have someone to boss you around. To think that only at the beginning of that week, you had no friends at all… Now you had so many, and all thanks to destiny. All thanks to your Teddy.

A breath, and then you forced your way into his mind. There was a picture there waiting for you, a memory from Monday. A memory of you, except, you seemed to glow. You’d seen yourself in a million mirrors and memories over the course of your life, but never had you looked so beautiful. And then, there were words.

“I’d like to go on a date with you, Y/n/n.”

Your eyes snapped open as you left his thoughts to belong to him alone.

“What?” You asked, your ears red.

“I think you’re absolutely brilliant, Y/n/n. Please, go on a date with me?” Theo smiled.

He inched closer until your noses touched and you could barely tell each others’ features apart. Each of you were just blurs of colour.

“I’d love to go on a date with you, Teddy.”

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Suburban Legends

♥ masterlist | request rules | based on this request

♥ pairing: fernando alonso x wife!reader

♥ synopsis: for your husband's birthday you decided to gather the help of the grid in order to create the perfect surprise party.

♥ smau + written - fc: amanda seyfried and girls on pinterest - as always none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing, mentions of liquoir, and some suggestive-ish jokes !!!

♥ a/n: here's a fernando fic for his birthday! (even though it's already passed by now) tysm to the anon that requested this! I will also be toying with the way I format my fics because much like hobie brown I don't believe in consistency lol. if you want more fernando x wife!reader fics @theyluvkarolina put out one earlier this week and you should go show her some love <3

-Belgium 2024-

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, jensonbutton, nicorosberg, and 1,183,502 more

yn.alonso belgique with nando and our girls <3

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user1 why is her ten year old more aesthetic than me

user7 fanciest family ever

user3 wish I was there

user6 nando looks SO fine

user8 what about Y/N SHE LOOKS GORGEOUS

user10 I cant believe nando's birthday is this week

jensonbutton he's so old

user5 @/jensonbutton you're older than him but go off 😭

user2 my favorite DILFS

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

Your husband Fernando never made his birthday a big deal, but when your daughters begged you to throw him a surprise party, you just had to agree. It was adorable how much they cared about his special day and you knew he'd appreciate it.

Usually his birthday consisted of a stressful race, but since it fell on a Monday this year, it was the perfect opportunity to get everyone together.

This was why you were with Lance. You weren't really "alone" with him either. Not even ten minutes after the picture was posted Nando had dropped off your kids to take them to the beach.

You watched as the girls walked along in the sand, picking up any seashells they found.

"We have everything right? Balloons? Venue? Everyone RSVP'd?" you fidgeted with your bracelet.

"Yes, Y/n we have everything," Lance responded.

"Good. I just want this to be perfect."

"It will be," he smiled.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by lancestroll, fernandoalo_oficial, oscarpiastri, and 972,743 more

yn.alonso brunch & beach with the girls favorite uncle @/lancestroll

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lewishamilton I thought I was the favorite uncle?

fernandoalo_oficial you wish

user1 am I the only one who thinks y/n and Lance are kind of flirty?

user6 yes you are the only one.

nicorosberg the twins have gotten so big

yourusername I know 🥹

user21 wait I'm new to f1. I didn't know Fernando had kids???

user8 @/user21 yea him and y/n have three :) all daughters, making him an unbeatable girl dad. The twins Mariana (the brunette one) and Sofia (the blonde one) are ten and their one year old is named Isabella <3

user3 no bc its so cute that the twins have each of their parents hair colors

user7 lance's job is beach

user12 he is SO Ken

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

Nando couldn't help but notice the way your phone vibrated on the dinner table. This has been going on for a few weeks now. People calling you at odd times, your phone blowing up with texts, randomly going out with the grid...

He knows you would never cheat on him, but he still found it strange that you'd never mentioned anything about this to him. Up until now, you told him everything.

“Who is it?” Fernando asked, taking a bite of his meal.

Mariana and Sofia looked at each other with their eyes wide, not even trying to hide the fact they were in on your little secret.

”What’s this,” Nando gestured to the two girls with his fork. “What are you three up to?” he raised a brow.

”Nothing, mi amor. Let’s just finish eating, yeah?”

“Are you sure? This isn’t something I should be worried about? Sabes que puedes contarme cualquier cosa, ¿verdad?” - (you know you can tell me anything, right?)

“Si, I know. It’s nothing to be worried about. I promise.” you reassured him.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by yn.alonso, lancestroll, astonmartinf1 and 648,942 more

fernandoalo_oficial p5 today

comments are limited

lancestroll we didn’t get the best team result overall but congrats on p5. let’s keep pushing

astonmartinf1 points 💪

yn.alonso proud of you ❤️

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-Fernando's Birthday-

The day started off as it usually did. The twins were up super early to jump in the bed with you and cuddle up beside Nando, wishing him a happy birthday.

He always spoiled you and today was the day to return the favor. You made him and the girls breakfast in bed before taking them out sight seeing in Brussels.

"We have one more stop," you said to Fernando who was in the passengers seat.

You pulled up to the venue and led your family through the door. You were holding Isabella as the twins giggled the whole way inside.

-

"Surprise!!!" everyone yelled as the lights went on.

The room was filled with gold, white, and green balloons and a heart shaped cake was sitting in the middle of a long table.

Fernando smiled and turned towards you, "Mi amor what is this?"

"Your birthday party," you smiled back as his arm snaked around your waist. "It was the twins idea."

”I love you so much,” he said, kissing your temple and ruffling his the twins hair. He held his arms out to hold Isabella.

"Lets drink," Lando held up a bottle of alcohol making everyone cheer.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, aussiegrit, jensonbutton, and 1,592,484 more

yn.alonso happy birthday to the love of my life @/fernandoalo_oficial. you are the most incredible driver, husband, and father and these last fifteen years with you have been an absolute blessing. eres mi todo, mi amor. feliz cumpleaños - (you are my everything, my love. happy birthday) ❤️

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fernandoalo_oficial te amo mucho. gracias cariño ❤️

♡ by yourusername

lancestroll I'm not crying you're crying

carlossainz55 happy birthday cabrón

lewishamilton happy birthday fernando

user7 guys 🥹

user1 this is the cutest thing I've ever seen

astonmartinf1 happy birthday to our fav

♡ by fernandoalo_oficial

user8 THEY LOVE HIM SO MUCH 😭

user2 if my relationship isn't like there's I don't want it

aussiegrit happy birthday mate

♡ by fernandoalo_oficial

[sunlightgalaxy]

stress relief

emily prentiss x fem!reader

idk the word count

warnings: 18+, smut, smoking, smoking kink, praise kink

a/n: ummmm ya in the middle of italy and every time i see someone smoking all i think of is paget brewster maybe i have a problem. also writing this violently hungover and i haven’t written smut in months & this is not proofread. relationship between em and reader is left to interpretation xx enjoy!!

my gif

“you know how bad that is for you, right?” you spoke from behind, the older woman’s eyes turning to meet yours. you stood leaning against the precinct doors, arms crossed as you eyed the cigarette between emily’s fingers.

“it’s stress relief,” she replied, tapping the end to remove ash. “only do it at work.”

“i’m sure there’s some better ways to relieve stress,” you said, moving towards her. there was something about the way she held the cigarette between her hands, so delicately as if it the most fragile item in the world.

prentiss shrugged, moving the cigarette to between her lips and taking a hit. your eyes followed, your legs clenching as you watched her movements. how was something so deadly so attractive?

“so,” emily started, taking note of the way your cheeks heated as she blew out the smoke. “you come out here to watch or for a case-related question?”

“oh, right, sorry.” you muttered, clearing your throat as you felt your cheeks get red. “yeah, we think we found a lead in the case.”

**

as it turned out, the lead was a dead end and the team was back to square one. frustrated, hotch sent everyone back to the hotel for the night. which is how you not only found yourself rooming with emily, but you also found yourself ogling as she whipped out a cigarette on the hotel balcony. you watched her settle into the chair, her eyes focused on the view in front of her. well, until she turned and saw you staring.

emily smirked as she caught you watching her. she found it amusing, really, the way your eyes were fixated on the little product in her hand. as she pulled the cigarette to her mouth for another draw, she motioned to the chair next to her as if to invite you over.

you picked up on this and pulled yourself out of bed, making your way over to the balcony in your pajamas. wordlessly, you settled in the chair next to emily, mere inches separating you two. you shivered, unaware of just how cold it was.

you felt emily’s eyes rake over your body and suddenly became aware of your clothing choice. your small tank top and ever shorter shorts were not uncommon for you to wear around her on a case, but today was different.

“here, hold this.” emily said, passing you her cigarette as she took off her sweatshirt. your eyes shamelessly watched, cigarette in hand as you watched her tank top ride up just a bit as she removed the outer layer.

you two traded items, reaching for the sweatshirt with a grateful smile.

“looks good on you,” emily spoke, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. you looked down, noticing it was her old academy sweatshirt. just a little too big for your frame, the front design fading slightly, it fit you perfectly.

“if it goes missing, you know where to find it,” you teased, moving closer to the older woman. the two of you sat in silence, emily’s hand still playing with the sweatshirt. except, she moved on from the sleeve and started toying with the bottom, right at your upper thigh.

as she finished her cigarette she teased you, slowly moving her hands around your thighs. it was torturously slow, almost agonizing the way she made it feel like hours.

eventually there was nothing of the cigarette left, your eyes following as you watched the butt fall to the ground. emily’s eyes turned to you, pupils blown with lust as she pulled you closer.

no words were spoken as you were pulled into her lips, kiss deeper than ever imagined. you could taste the cigarette on her tongue as it entered your mouth, moaning at the taste.

emily smirked hearing your moan, pulling back and eliciting a whine from you. she ignored it, beginning to trail her lips down your neck. “such a hypocrite,” she murmured, pecking your neck. “hates the concept of cigarettes, but becomes such a slut when she sees me with one.”

“emily,” you gasped, feeling her hands move up under the sweatshirt. you moaned, feeling her pinching your nipples through your tank top. your hand raked through her hair, grounding yourself as you felt wetness around your pussy. you used your free hand to grab her chin, lifting her off your neck and pulling her into a kiss.

this time it was emily who moaned, deepening the kiss as she stood up. she pulled you with, careful not to knock the chairs over. you giggled as she picked you up, keeping your lips pressed together as she carried you inside.

settling you down on the bed, emily pulled back, studying you. “look so pretty in my sweatshirt, sweetheart,” she murmured, hands once again finding the hem. “think you’d look better naked,” though. in a swift motion she whisked both the hoodie and your tank top off, discarding them somewhere on the floor.

your hands mimicked hers, tugging at emily’s shirt and pulling it off. “so pretty,” you whispered, lips attaching to her breast and sucking a hickey into her skin. emily moaned, her hands exploring your body freely as she rested her head atop your hair. your hand moved to her ass, squeezing hard before pulling her sweatpants down.

you gasped as your hand trailed over her pussy, the combined material of the lace thong and the feeling of her wetness eliciting a smirk. “you always wear this to bed?” you asked, toying with the top of her thong.

“that’s for me to know and for you to find out,” emily replied, pulling off of you. “let’s see what you’ve got on, baby.” you watched her reaction as she tugged your shorts down, eyes dark when they were met with your bare, dripping cunt. “all this for me?” she asked, dragging her finger through your folds and collecting your wetness from your cunt. “all this,” she began, eliciting a moan as she brushed over your clit, “from a cigarette?”

“em, oh fuck,” you whined, watching her bring her drenched finger to her lips and suck. you pulled her by the hair and brought her into a smashing kiss, whining at the combined taste of yourself and the remnants of her cigarette. you felt your pussy clench around nothing at the taste, emily’s palm making its way back down to your dripping cunt. you rutted against her hand, wordlessly begging for more friction.

“use your words, princess,” emily said between kisses, her other hand snaking down to press against your hips, effectively stilling your movements.

“need more, em, please,” you begged, trying as best you could to move despite being held down. emily didn’t respond, instead choosing to plunge two fingers into your hole. she instantly hit your sweet spot, eliciting a gasp from you as your hands clawed down her back.

“feel so fucking good, baby,” emily praised, sucking a hickey into your chest. “so fucking tight and wet, all for me.”

“all yours,” you choked out, emily’s gaze reaching up to yours. you could feel the knot in your stomach growing, sensitivity increasing as your orgasm drew closer. as if on cue, emily added a third finger into your cunt, and began flicking her thumb across your clit.

“close?” she asked. you nodded frantically, arching your hips to get emily’s fingers impossibly deeper.

emily leaned down, nipping your earlobe. “come for me, sweet girl,” she whispered. “show me how good you are.”

at emily’s command, you felt your orgasm wash over you, the pleasure hitting you hard as emily’s lips made their way back to yours. she fucked you through it, only retreating when you began panting in her mouth.

emily collapsed on top of you, her fingers breaching your lips as you sucked them clean of your juices. she smiled, watching your fucked-out haze slowly begin to pass. too in awe of your beauty, she gasped as she felt your fingers brush through her slit.

you smirked at emily’s sudden reaction, fingers going deeper into her cunt. “my turn.”

[elliespillowprincess]

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?

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a/n: hi everyone! i wanted to write a story w friends to lovers trope so here it is! im not sure if this will be an ongoing series, ill just have to see where it goes!! this kinda sucks im sorryyy i haven’t written in a while ive been so busy w school </3

cw: toxic!ellie, situationship abby???, tipsy sex, fingering (r receiving), masturbation (ellie), tinyyy breeding kink, violence?, kinda public sex, honestly badly written + not proofread😭lmk what else!!

WHY YOU SHOULD NOT SUPPORT NEIL DRUCKMANN

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it was a normal friday, you had just got home from classes and were getting ready to go to a kickback with your friends to drink the stress of finals away. you were going with your friends dina, jesse, and your roommate ellie. all of you became friends during your freshman year of college, you and ellie deciding to room together. you were just finishing up your makeup, and you got up to change, beginning to take your robe off, when your door flies open.

“hey, y/n i-“ she makes eye contact with you as you quickly attempt to cover yourself, your robe already halfway off. “shit- i’m- i’m sorry! i didn’t see anything! i swear i-“ why was she still standing there?

“get out!! go!” you say, clearly embarrassed. she turns around, clearly flushed. you become extremely red, but remember this isn’t the first time she’s walked in on you getting dressed. or the second, or the third..

you walk out of your room, wearing a simple outfit of a tank top and shorts. you meet eyes with ellie, who looks you up and down, seeing what you’re wearing. it was like everything was quiet. you’ve had a crush on ellie since you met her, but you’d always assumed she didn’t like you back since she was bringing in a new girl every week. she was wearing a blue flannel with a white tank top under, paired with a pair of jeans. you couldn’t help but admire her, and wonder what she looked like under her-

“y/n!! i feel like i haven’t seen you in ages!!”

your trance is broken by dina, who runs up to you, giving you a big hug. you hug her back, closing your eyes and smiling a huge smile. the four of you haven’t hung out in ages. most of your nights consisted of either studying, or smoking with ellie and watching whatever dumb movie was playing at the time. the two of you let go, and you walked up to give jesse a hug as well.

“god it’s been so long since we’ve all been together!” you say, letting go of jesse. “is everyone ready?”

“yeah, we’ve been waiting on the princess to finish getting ready.” ellie says, sarcastically. you roll your eyes as jesse grabs his keys and the four of you head out to the car. dina immediately takes her spot up front, leaving you and ellie in the back. “can i have aux?” ellie says before the car is even on.

the four of you arrive at the party shortly after, everyone arguing on what music to play. jesse gets out first and goes to open dina’s door for her. “you’re cooked, jesse.” ellie says, laughing. “hey! i think its cute.” you argue back. ellie just looks at you and rolls her eyes, laughing, as she gets out of the car.

the party wasn’t full, nothing crazy. you walk in first, immediately beelining to the drinks. you bump into a large, blonde hair girl.

“woah, you good?” you meet eyes with the women’s hockey teams star player, abby anderson. you notice her hands are on your waist, steadying you before you fell.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry!” you laugh.

“don’t worry about it, what’s your name gorgeous?” she says with a smirk. you look around, and see ellie already chatting it up with a ditsy girl. if she can have fun, why can’t you?

“y/n, and you are?” you knew the answer to this, everyone did. but you ddint wanna seem like a stalker for knowing her name when she didn’t know yours.

“abby. are you here with anyone?” she asks, scanning around the room. you hardly even notice when her hands leave your waist, steadying herself on the counter.

“oh, just my friends. i split away to grab a drink.” you slightly turn to pour a random bottle into one of the red solo cups stacked on the counter.

she laughs, watching you. “a pretty girl like you doesn’t have a boyfriend?” she asks, tilting her head slightly. it makes you blush, downing the liquor for some liquid courage.

“oh i don’t- i don’t really like guys..” you giggle. she raises her eyebrows.

“oh, so i do have a chance?” she replies, taking a sip from her cup. “do you wanna head up to my room?”

you look over to jesse and dina, they’re dancing to whatever shitty house music is playing. then to ellie, who’s clearly already had a few drinks, chatting it up with two girls now.

“sure, let’s go!”

abby grabs your hand, leading you through the crowd. you can’t help but love how big her hand is in yours, how she led you through the crowd saying hi to almost everyone. you almost make it to the stairs when you hear a commotion, and abby is shoved away from you.

“the fuck are you doing anderson?”

it’s ellie.

what’s her problem? she has girls at her disposal and she’s worried what you’re doing?

“don’t start shit at my party, ellie.” she says back, getting closer and towering over her. you knew abby and ellie didn’t get along that good, ellie always told you it was because abby was cocky and spoiled, but clearly it was more than that. “what’s your deal?”

“my deal is that you’re trying to treat her like she’s one of your sluts, she’s probably drunk and you’re taking advantage of her!” ellie barks back, slurring her words. this makes abby angrier, and you have to step in.

“ellie, it’s not that big of a deal. i said yes, im barely tipsy. can you let us be?” you didn’t realize your words sounded a little rude, but it didn’t matter. you knew this, with abby, was only gonna be a simple fuck and nothing more. she glares at you, grabbing your hand and trying to drag you out of the house. you try to resist her, but she’s stronger. “ellie, let go!”

suddenly, abby shoves ellie hard. “she said let the fuck go, ellie!” ellie’s expression changed. she looked infuriated. she drops her drink and punches abby in the face. “oh you fucked up.” abby says getting ready to punch ellie. you shove ellie away, telling abby to find you on instagram, that you’ll text her and that your sorry. you begin practically dragging ellie out. dina and jesse stop you before you can leave.

“what the fuck happened?” dina says, looking at the clearly pissed ellie.

“i’ll tell you when we get home, im just gonna call an uber, go home, and sober her up.”

“you sure you don’t want a ride? we don’t mind i-“ jesse says.

“no, it’s fine. i’ll text you guys when i get home.” you go to leave, pushing ellie out and ordering and uber.

the ride home was quiet. the uber didn’t even make small talk as usual. the air felt so thick you could cut it with a knife. finally, you stop at your house, thanking the uber driver, and go around to ellie’s side to help her get out.

“i don’t.. i don’t need your fucking help.” she snaps. you roll your eyes and continue to help her, dragging her inside and pushing her on the couch. “god, what’s your problem?”

you don’t know why she was acting so mean. true, she had a few drinks, but she didn’t usually act this this when drunk.

“what’s your fucking problem ellie? i mean, god, can i not make my own decisions?” you snap, going to the kitchen to pour yourself a drink. “you fuck a new girl every week, sometimes two, and i can’t do it once?” you take the shot. “what are you so mad about?” you shout, going to pour yourself another.

you hear her shift a little on the couch. “nothing, i don’t have a problem.” you audibly laugh, she’s being ridiculous! you down another drink, closing the bottle. it makes you cough and gag a little.

“if you didn’t have a problem, you wouldn’t have fucking punched abby for talking to me.” you start to go to your room, wanting to sleep it off.

“stop.” she says. you do as she says, you don’t know why but you do. “sit down.”

you walk over to the opposite side of the couch and sit down. she sits up from her laying position.

“i just.. she has fucked almost every girl at school. i don’t want you being one of those girls.” you burst out laughing, not believing what’s being said to you right now.

“are you serious, ellie?” you look at her in disbelief. “you do the same thing as her! i knew it was gonna be a simple fuck, i knew that and i didn’t care! so fucking what if a girl has some built up tension, am i not allowed to release it how i want? god, you’re immature.”

she stares at you blankly, before pulling you in and giving you a hug.

“you’re better than that, y/n.” she says into your shoulder. “if you needed it that bad i’d rather you come to me than an ass like her, god at least we know each other.”

what?

you sit there in disbelief as she continues to hug you.

“ellie, what? do you even know what you’re saying?” you stare at her as she begins to pull away.

“y/n, i..” she trails off, just staring at you.

“you need to go to sleep.” you say flatly, getting up, tossing her a blanket, and going to your room. you didn’t wanna deal with this now, and hoped it was all just some fucked up dream and everything would be normal in the morning. ellie would be back to her playful self, the two of you back to being best friends. you get in your bed, too lazy to undress and take off your makeup, and drift off to sleep.

the next weeks were completely different. ellie hardly talked to you, and she was bringing more and more girls home almost every night. she stayed out until the early morning, waking you up with the moans of the girls in her bed.

it made you sick.

you hardly ever saw her, either. she’d try her best to avoid you, but the rare occasion where you’d turn a corner and bump into her only made her turn away back into her room.

regardless, you decided to have your own fun. you’ve been texting abby off and on, and the two of you only got so far as making out at parties, parties ellie was at. the two of you would make eye contact whilst your mouth was in abby’s, hers in another girl. but why should you care? she was the one avoiding you. she was the one who said you should just be friends with benefits.

you were studying when you get a text on your phone.

abs: hey, i’m throwing a kickback tn, u coming right?

you sit for a minute, wondering if this is really what you need.

y/n: ummm idk what kind

like crazy or chill

abs: chill

just a few friends

u can bring dina n jesse if u want

you contemplate, and decide it won’t hurt anything if you go. you type abby your reply and inform jesse and dina.

abs: starts at 9 don’t be late

y/n:🙄

you start getting ready, it’s only 7 so you don’t have to hurry. you decide to fuck with abby a little, and put on a tight dress she won’t be able to resist. you start on your makeup when you hear the loud moans coming from your roommates room. you try to ignore it, try to focus on your makeup, but it’s so damn loud. you stand up, frustrated, and march to ellie’s room. you raise your hand, about to pound the door and tell her to knock it off, when you hear something.

“y/n.. fuck- ugh” it’s ellie. there’s not another girl in there. it’s her making the noise. you can’t help but feel the heat rise to your cheeks hearing that. you think about breaking her door down, but you’re frozen listening to her whimpers and pleads. “fuck- put my- kids.. fuck!!”

“ellie…?” you softly knock on her door. it feels like all the sound from the world has been removed. “ellie, you okay..?”

you hear shuffling. “just- what? do you need something?” she sounds annoyed, scattered.

“i heard you saying my name i just-“

she swings open her door. she’s messy, her hair is ruffled and sweat beads on her forehead. “what do you want?”

you just sit there and stare at her in disbelief. her cheeks are a bright shade of pink and she’s slightly out of breath. her smell is intoxicating.

“i just heard you say my name and.. wanted to see what was up..” you trail off. she doesn’t say or do anything, just stares at you.

“where are you going?” she asks, as if she wasn’t just caught moaning your name.

“oh um.. abs is throwing a little get together..” you say coyly.

“and you’re wearing that?” she snaps back. why was she so upset?

“look ellie- i don’t get what your fucking problem is-“

“i’m going, let’s go.” she says bluntly.

“ellie, you’re not even invited, it’s a small thing.”

“so? i know jesse and dina too, im not gonna be your little plus one. cmon ill drive us.”

rolling your eyes and arguing with her as you follow her to her bike, she hands you a helmet. “relax, y/n. what’s she gonna do?” she hops on and you follow behind her, climbing on the bike and wrapping your arms around her. “hold on tight.”

when the two of you eventually arrived after you pleaded with ellie to stay back, abby looked pissed. the night consisted of a few drinks, dina and jesse cuddling on the couch, and eventually leading to a game of truth or dare.

you were sat right next to abby, her arm around you, and ellie across the living room. it was small, only about 20 people. you were shocked abby even allowed ellie to be here, she barely even paid mind.

“abby, truth or dare?” you hear an unfamiliar girl ask.

“dare.” she says, almost as to impress you.

“i dare you to…” she looks around for a moment. “kiss alexis.”

the room got quiet, all eyes on abby. everybody know alexis and abby used to fuck on the low, but people assumed you were with her now. abby wasted no time getting up and almost making out with her, making you annoyed and your stomach churn.

“i’ll be right back, gonna get a drink.” abby says, getting up and going to the kitchen. the atmosphere was off.

“um, yeah me too.” alexis says, running after abby. “abby, can we talk?” you hear her say in a whisper.

“umm.. okay fine, ellie then, truth or dare?” a random guy asks ellie.

“dare.” she says whilst eyeing you.

“play 7 minutes in heaven with y/n”

you shoot dina a look, and start nervously looking around the room at everyone. ellie gets up from her seat, walks over to you, and practically drags you to abby’s half bathroom, shutting and locking the door. the two of you are mere inches away, smelling the alcohol on her. you had a few drinks, giving you a little liquid courage.

you two are so close, and the air almost feels thick, hard to breathe. she’s leaning against the wall, just staring at you and waiting for you to do something.

“we doing this or not?” you say bluntly to her. immediately, she grabs your face and starts making out with you roughly, catching you off gaurd and causing a moan to slip through your lips. she pushes you against the counter and lifts you onto it, placing herself between your legs. it’s too intimate, whenever you’d pull away, the two of you would make eye contact before smashing your faces together once again. you’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be one of the girls on the other side of ellie’s door, to be the one ellie makes whimper and scream.

“what the fuck is going on in there?” you hear abby shout, followed by dozens of knocks. ellie doesn’t stop, though, and only becomes more aggressive, grabbing onto your thighs. she pulls away for a moment.

“does your little girlfriend make you wet from just a kiss?” she says, staring into you. “i can feel it against my jeans, doll.” the loud bangs from abby are drowned out and all you can hear is your guys’ breathing. “tell me, y/n. does she make you feel the way i do?”

“no, no els she doesn’t.” you pull her back into a kiss as she reaches her hand underneath your dress, and discovers you’re not wearing any underwear.

“dirty slut, you knew this’d happen huh?” she doesn’t waste time before one of her fingers begins pumping into you. “you’re mine right? tell me.” she adds another. you feel dizzy, it’s too intimate. i mean, you were here with abby, now you’re getting fingered by your best friend?

“els i…” the pounding on the door only grew louder and louder, your heart racing. her index and middle fingers pumped into you at a rapid pace, her palm grinding against your clit. you wrap your arms around ellie’s neck, pulling her closer. “this.. this is wrong..” you want to pull away, you want to shove her off and open the door for abby.

right?

“do you want me to stop, y/n?” she says before kissing along your neck. “tell me to stop and i’ll stop.” she continues to pump her long fingers into you. “do you want me to stop or do you wanna cum on my fingers while your little girlfriend is trying to rip me to shreds?”

“f-fuck… fuck- no dont, don’t stop ellie.” she uses her free hand to hold your face and forces you to look at her.

“atta girl.”

“ellie i swear to fucking god i’m gonna kick your ass!” the door is on the verge of breaking, splintering sounds coming from the door. all the tension is pushing you further and further to the edge, ellie overtaking all your senses. you’re drunk on her. every pump of her fingers into your hole and rub against your clit by her palm only pushes you further and further, and she can tell.

“y’gonna cum? cum all over my hand, cmon give it to me.” she whispers. her pace speeds up and one, two, three more pumps and you’re coming undone on her, biting her shoulder and squeezing her neck tightly to muffle your moans. “there we go, that’s my girl. my fucking pussy.” she says, working you through your orgasm. you feel like you’re in a trance, like the world stopped for a moment.

that moment ended with a loud CRACK coming from the door.

[babyleostuff]

seeing them cry for the first time | ot 13

❥ seungcheol 

would immediately try to act as if nothing happened, he’d probably insist that something just got into his eye. “just give me a second baby, i’m okay,” he’d quietly say, tears running down his cheeks. we know that cheol tries to act tough and strong not to upset people around him, and to maintain his leader persona, but the second he feels your arms around him, cradling him to your chest, he’d burst out crying again. despite everything, cheol is a very sensitive person and he needs people to take care of him, especially when he’s that vulnerable. 

❥ jeonghan 

at first jeonghan would try to laugh it off, joking about it would be like a coping mechanism for him. he never tried to keep his emotions or how he was feeling from you, but there was something about crying that made him extra shy and vulnerable. “i’ll be right back, honey,” he’d say between his quiet sobs, getting up from the couch. the moment you realised he wanted to hide his tears from you, you grabbed him by his waist, your chest pressed to his back. “don’t run away, hannie. i’m here with you, it’s okay,” you murmured into his back, pressing kisses over his exposed shoulder. no words would have to be exchanged - the fact that you were there for him was enough. 

❥ joshua

joshua wouldn’t want to make a big deal out of it, he knew that there would come a time when he’d cry in front of you, but when it actually happened he was kind of scared how you’d react. he’d look at you with teary eyes and a frown, and you’d immediately know that something serious had happened. joshua usually preferred to be left alone when he was upset or very stressed to have some time to sort things out in his head, so seeing him so sad was truly heartbreaking for you. he wouldn’t say much, just reach his hand out to you, so you’d know that he wanted to be comforted.

❥ jun 

at first jun would excuse himself before he actually started crying, saying he just needed to use the bathroom. but while he was sitting on the cold floor, tears streaming down his cheeks, he’d realise that he wanted nothing more but to be in your arms, so he’d quickly get up and just throw himself into your embrace. it wasn’t unusual for jun to hug you out of the blue, but you’d immediately know something was wrong when you’d feel his body shake from his quiet sobs. “just hold me like this, please,” he’d whisper, reaching for your hand. and you’d stay like that, your body tightly wrapped around his until he’d doze off, his face hidden in the crook of your neck.

❥ hoshi 

when hoshi cried he never tried to hide it, to run away, definitely not to laugh it off - he’d immediately reach for you, and cry into your shoulder. he had realised a long time ago that you were his comfort place, his safe bubble, and you’d be the first person hoshi would search for when he was upset. the first time it happened wasn’t any different, he was so stressed about their new comeback that instead of going home he rushed straight to your apartment and just threw himself into your arms. 

❥ wonwoo 

wonwoo would try to do everything not to cry in front of you in the first place, he’d sit there with red eyes and shaky hands, but he swore he’d never cry in front of you. but seeing you, worry and fear written all over your face, the knowledge that you cared so much about him that you were on the verge of tears yourself, would make wonwoo drop the “cold” persona, and just break down. “i’m so sorry, i’m sorry,” he’d sob into your shoulder, gripping your hand tightly in his. “never apologise for crying, wonwoo. and thank you for being so vulnerable with me, for trusting me,” that’s what he’d want to hear after. 

❥ woozi 

similarly to wonwoo, would do everything not to cry in front of you - woozi was never big on displaying his emotions, especially those vulnerable ones, but everyone has a breaking point, even our strong woozi. one time he’d just break down in sobs and tears right in front of you, he’d crumble into your arms, holding onto you for dear life. he wouldn’t try to say anything, and he wouldn’t want for you to say anything either, he’d just want to be held tightly, without judgement.

❥ dk 

he’d just cry harder seeing your worried expression. dk was never good at keeping his emotions and how he felt from you, he was an open book, but that didn’t mean he let you see this side of him often. he never meant to make you upset because he was feeling down, all he wanted was to make you laugh and smile, so the first time he cried in front of you was extra emotional for him. he never realised that you cared so deeply for him. “i love you,” he’d quietly murmur over and over again, his voice muffled by your neck, as you were gently running your hand through his hair to calm him down.    

❥ mingyu 

would try to reassure you that he’s okay, and that you don’t have to worry. mingyu is your personal fluffball of energy and positivity, he always hides it when he’s feeling down not to upset or worry you, because your happiness is number one priority to him. “it’s okay baby, i’m fine,” would be the first thing he’d say, but from his shaky voice and trembling hands, you’d know that he was struggling a lot more than he’d like to admit. the second you hug him he just breaks and lets the tears fall freely. 

(mingyu crying is something so truly heartbreaking)

❥ minghao 

minghao would smile through his tears and assure you that he is fine, that you shouldn’t worry. he’d wipe away the tears from his cheeks like it was nothing. before, he never saw crying as a weakness, but when it happened for the first time in front of you, he thought that maybe you’d think he was weak, and all he ever wanted was to be the tough guy that could always protect you. without saying anything, you’d just wrap your arms around his waist, letting him cry into your shoulder. “i love you, hao. no matter what.” 

❥ seungkwan 

seungkwan would be a mix of dk and minghao - he wouldn’t be good at keeping his emotions from you, but at the same time, he’d sometimes hide them behind a mask of humour and sarcasm to not show the weaker side of him. seungkwan would try really hard not to cry in front of you, at first he’d push your arms away and insist that he was fine, but when you were finally able to wrap your arms tightly around his waist to keep him in place, seungkwan would start crying harder and harder, until his cheeks were stained form dried out tears. 

❥ vernon 

vernon would just stand in the middle of the living room, tears falling down his cheeks, his body shaking from the tiny sobs. he never thought about how crying in front of you would make him feel like, but he quickly realised that he’d do anything to be hugged by you, to be protected from the cruel world. you’d be speechless at first, seeing him so upset and heartbroken, and you’d quickly rush over to him and cradle his face in your hands. “c-can you just hold me for a while?” at that moment vernon realised that you were his comfort place. 

❥ chan 

he’d just crumble and fall into your embrace, holding onto you for dear life. “i can’t do this anymore, i’m so tired”. chan might be one of the most mature members, but being so strong and independent is sometimes too exhausting, and he just wants to be taken care of too. might need some reassurance after that crying doesn’t make him less of a man, that it doesn’t make him weak - that he doesn’t need to be so tough all of the time. would love to be cuddled too, for once being the small spoon, hiding in the crook of your neck, as your arm held him close to your body.

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @dkswife @marisblogg @whatsgyud @aaniag @jeonghansshitester @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @soul-is-a-strange-kid @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @daegutowns

[hannie-dul-set]

WHAT’S WRONG WITH CEO PARK?

p — PARK SUNGHOON x gn! reader. g — ceo! sunghoon and secretary! reader, humor, romance. w — swearing, sunghoon being a weirdo, a misplaced marriage proposal. 1.3k words.

requested by — anon: menace to everyone but you x the opposite of that.

note — i hate the cold angsty male ceo trope. so instead i turned ceo hoon into a weirdo that's a little bit too in love and doesn’t understand the concept of workplace boundaries which stresses you the fuck out!!

when you got promoted from being assistant secretary thanks to your ceo’s former secretary resigning, your co-workers did not throw you a celebration.

“you called for me, mr. park?”

instead, they threw you an advanced farewell party. it was nice working with you, said the cake dusted with stray confetti on the day of your promotion. they’re celebrating your inevitable resignation. they’re sure you’re going to follow suit after you predecessor within three months max because according to them—

“yes.”

your boss, park sunghoon, is the nastiest fucker in the planet.

“take a seat.”

you gulp, making cautious steps into your ceo’s office. he’s signing a stack of documents while you take your sweet time delaying having to sit in front of his paper-stacked desk, setting them aside the moment you sit down, sharp eyes immediately zeroing into your soul, and you start sweating.

there’s a bet on the line on when you’d eventually quit. today marks your fourth month here, and you’re pretty sure heeseung is going to win because you are in fact this close to sliding your pre-written resignation letter over his desk, adding onto his pile.

not because he’s terrible, like they all say. not because he’s temperamental.

“sunoo told me you were sick,” sunghoon starts. “why did you come to work today?”

but because you fear your boss might be a little bit in love with you.

“is...is that the only reason you asked for me?” you hesitantly say, picking on your cuticles and trying to avoid eye contact because the concern drowning your boss’s expression is just enough to drown you as well.

“you don’t look well,” he avoids your question. of course you don’t look well. you’re very, very uncomfortable right now and the main cause of that discomfort is him. “you should go home. i’ll tell jay to drive you.”

you’re pretty sure jay isn’t going to be happy with that. 

“mr. park—”

“i thought i asked you to call me sunghoon.”

your mouth is left hanging open. you’re flabbergasted. you take a second to recollect your thoughts. “...mr. park. sir,” you emphasize. you should at least be the one reminding him of your hierarchical roles at the moment. sunghoon looks upset that you’re not abiding by his request, but says nothing in protest so you continue. “i ran out of sick leaves. and there’s still so much work to do, i can’t just go home.”

“you ran out? well i’ll just give you more.” sir, that’s not how it works. “and jungwon can take care of your work. you should go home and rest.”

jungwon wouldn’t be too happy with that either. you feel your stress levels rising, headache incoming, because he’s just not listening to you. this crazy bastard, you think to yourself.

but maybe you were thinking a little too loudly.

“can you say that again?”

you slap a hand over your mouth with a gasp.

“say it again.”

you’re fucked. you just called your boss a bastard right to his face. “i’m—i’m so sorry, mr. park, i didn’t mean to—” but maybe that’s a good thing because that means you wouldn’t need to debate about resigning if he’s gonna fire you. “i apologize. i’ll accept any punishment you’ll give me.”

“no, say it again,” he hums, sounding a little too happy after being called crazy and a bastard, and you get a bad feeling. a really bad feeling. “i felt like we just got closer because of that. swear at me again.”

there’s a smile playing on your boss’s face. 

“i— i don’t think that’s appropriate, sir.”

jesus christ, he’s a bit more in love with you than you thought.

“why not?” when sunghoon gets up from behind his seat, circling out from behind his desk to lean back against it right in front of you instead, you start fearing for your life. he looks at you, arms crossed in disappointment, and he looks a little too good with rolled up sleeves and slim-fit slacks. 

crap, were you just checking out your boss?

his crazy is rubbing off on you.

“you have no trouble with swearing at and laughing around with the others,” he says. “why can’t you do the same with me?”

he is not normal, you think. thankfully not out loud this time. “sir, you’re my boss. i’m just your secretary. there’s a big gap there. i can’t just treat you the same way as i do with my co-workers.”

your boss takes in your words. he remains quiet with a stoic face for a few moments, and with each passing second of silence, you feel half a year of your life being shaved off. “ah,” he finally makes a sound after a good minute and a half. “should i give you a promotion, then?”

oh my fucking god, he’s nuts.

“boss, there’s an urgent thing you need to—”

“did i permit you to enter my office?”

your eyes widen, slapped in the face by a whiplash when your fellow secretary jake suddenly pops into the office, only to be cut off by the sharp glare and icy tone of your boss. jake’s hand doesn’t leave the doorknob when he nearly stumbles in shock with a stack of papers pressed to his chest. you see the look on his face. it’s the face of someone who’s about to get royally fucked over.

“n—no, sir. but these documents are—”

“then why are you in my office?” holy shit. so this is what they meant when they said ceo park is a bitchy demon from hell. jake looks like he’s about to piss himself. you’ve never been on the brunt of his temper— likely because he’s biased and has feelings for you, which has always felt burdensome. but now you’re a little thankful because you’d probably cry if he snapped at you like that.

“i’m sorry, i’ll leave now. i apologize.”

with that, jake makes his hasty retreat, and you’re once more left alone with your crazy boss. 

“where were we?” he says. “oh, right. your promotion.”

you’re starting to feel dizzy. 

“i’ve never liked how seojoo handled things. you can take his spot as the sales department head.” you have to stop him. you have to stop him before he actually fires a competent employee and gives you their spot as a courtship gift. “wait. i think you’d prefer working in HR actually. it’s a shame ms. kim is going to lose her position, but i can just—”

“mr. park—”

“sunghoon,” he cuts you off. “call me sunghoon.”

you look at him, exasperated. “sir,” you say. “i don’t think this is right.”

sunghoon raises a brow. “you don’t like HR? which department would you prefer then?”

you can’t. you can’t do this anymore. you make the mistake of letting your eyes wander out of stress, because they inadvertently land on the shiny gold glint of his nameplate, which is a terribly bad move following after his question because sunghoon notices, and sunghoon gets the very, very wrong idea.

oh, no. oh, no no no no no—

“i see.”

he doesn’t! he doesn’t see! you aren’t coveting his seat! you just want to go back to work and stop dealing with your insane and far too in love with you boss!

“i’m afraid i can’t give away my position as ceo,” he tells you. you swallow, shutting your eyes because you don’t want to acknowledge the mess you’ve just accidentally made, but your lack of vision definitely doesn’t interfere with your sense of hearing.

what you hear next sounds clearer than you’d like it to be.

“how about the position of being the ceo’s fiancé instead?”

that’s it.

“i will be getting back to work now, mr. park.”

there is something very wrong with your boss. it’s not in your job description to fix him.

WHAT’S WRONG WITH CEO PARK? © hannie-dul-set, 2023.