#if i could pass inspiration on to u i would gift u as much as possible :(<3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[yunogf]

bestie this is a very random message but i truly don’t know where u find the inspiration and encouragement to make such beautiful graphics given the state of ncityblr, i feel too discouraged to even open ps 😩😐 anwww hope ur having a nice week <3 and hope ur excited at jaehyun music news!! im not familiar with emotional oranges so i dont really know what to expect but i hope jaehyun will sound fine as always! 🫶🏻🩷🫂🤍💖💗💓💘

omg sophie this is so wild bc I'm literally in ps right now CJZJCJXJZ 😭😭😭 actually so spooky that u sent me this like can u see me rn how many fingers am I holding up 👀 this is so so sweet of u tho and honestly idk either I think it must be cathartic for me bc its not like im getting paid or reaching this big audience or anything chxkkc 😔🙃 I get a fleeting spark of an idea and I jump on it before it goes away 😭

also! emotional oranges are one of my favessss they don't make bad songs so I'm sooo excited that jaehyun worked on something with them 🤩🤩 jaehyun giving me reasons to keep going fr 😩🙏🩷

I hope ur feeling better and I hope this week has been kind to uuu 🥰🫶🩷

[kazbrekkerscrutches]

Spencer Reid - Think of Me

Warnings: fluff, reader missing boyf!spencer, sweet!girlfriend x stargazed!spencer, this is just what I need irl

Words: 1.0k

Summary: Spencer thinks of his girlfriend, Y/N, as the sweetest woman he has ever met. When he came home late from work, he notices something about her that makes his heart flutter and makes him realize how much he loves her more every single day.

A/N: This is fairly inspired by Too Sweet from Hozier. I feel like I don't see enough Spencer Reid fluff on here so why not! Hope u enjoy xx

Spencer and Y/N had met when she started working at the BAU, a couple of years after Spencer settled into the team himself. He had always noticed how she smiled at everybody, spreading sweetness all around her without even noticing. He was smitten by her in a matter of weeks, stealing glances at the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life.

Y/N always treated Spencer as an adult, which is something that made him feel confident and he appreciated that about her. She brought him coffee and had noted how he liked it, brought him sweets and left him notes when he had a hard day. All those things that she did for him made him, eventually fall deeply in love with her.

After a year of getting to know Y/N, Spencer finally had the courage to take her out on a date. She wanted nothing more than to go out with him, agreeing with the sweetest smile she could give him. They both had a wonderful time, going out for dinner and heading to a poetry reading after.

He took her home, brushing a soft strand of her hair behind her ear, making her smile. Y/N reached up to meet his height, kissing his lips softly with a soft blush on both of their cheeks and his arm wrapped up loosely around her waist.

Spencer asked her to be his girlfriend after their third date together, which she whole-heartedly accepted, smiling wildly.

Three years had now passed, they had moved together, adopted a cat and lived their little life together. He couldn’t be happier when he had her in his life. She was so sweet to him, like a ray of sunshine on the cloudiest of days. She was the light of his life, and as was he to her.

She loved every single moment of her life with him. She loved the quiet evening of them reading and enjoying their tea in their living room. She thrived for their Friday nights, watching a movie with their cat on Spencer’s lap, purring loudly on his thighs. She loved having him around, the acts of services and his craving for physical touch.

She loved every single part of him, even the ones that he didn’t like the most himself.

One night, Y/N got the night off from a case and stayed at their apartment. It had been a long week for both of them, but Hotcher decided they had enough men on the field to let Y/N, JJ and Garcia get some rest. Spencer, Morgan, Rossi and Hotch stayed, Spencer telling her he would be back in the morning.  

Y/N had decided to sleep in early, exhausted both mentally and physically from her day. She got ready for bed, but it didn’t feel the same when Spencer wasn’t here. Their cat came to her for cuddles, but it only really wanted cuddles from Spencer, as Y/N wanted too.

She got into some more comfortable clothes, grabbing one of Spencer’s most beloved hoodies he always wore around their home. It was a gift she had given him on their anniversary, knowing he was always cold around their apartment. She placed it over her head, the sleeves long on her arms and the bottom of it falling down just over her thighs.

She got into bed, looking over at Spencer’s empty bed side. Y/N placed the hood over her head, curling up in the sheets and letting sleep washing over her, with a piece of him in her arms.

…

Spencer came back early that night, the case closing up earlier than intended. He came into the apartment, the lights switched off and the door to him and Y/N’s room slightly opened. He shrugged off his jacket and shoes, walking towards their room to find the prettiest sight.

Y/N was all curled up, sleeping tightly in his favorite hoodie, the hood high on her head. He smiled warmly at the sight, his heart fluttering with comfort and adoration.

He got into some more comfortable clothes, sliding soundly into the bed beside her sleeping body.  

She felt the bed dip beside her, wrapping her arms around him softly. Spencer placed his arms around her as well, pressing his cheek on her forehead.

“I missed you.” She whispered, her eyes closed and her tone sleepy. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat of the hoodie and the blankets that practically swallowed her while she slept.

He smiled sweetly, running his arm over her back, his hand resting on the back of her head.

“I missed you too, sweetheart.” He spoke softly, kissing her forehead sweetly.

“You look so cute in my hoodie.” He whispered, looking down at her sleepy figure. Her hand hidden up the sleeve of his shirt.

She smiled warmly, looking up at Spencer. Y/N trailed her hand along his chest, making its way towards his cheek. He leaned into her touch, kissing the palm of her hand and her wrist as he placed his hand over hers.

“It reminds me of you when you’re not here.” She spoke softly, her voice filled with sleep.

He smiled sweetly at her response, his cheeks heating up with a warm blush under her touch.

“I’m here now, baby.” He whispered, bringing her closer to him and kissing her sweetly.

She loved everything about Spencer. Y/N loved his intelligence, his kindness and his different haircuts, but she loved it the most when they were alone together. Spencer cherished every single moment of his time when he was with her. Either they worked on a case together, or they bunked in a hotel room, or they cooked dinner. He loved spending time adoring Y/N.

They both laid close to each other, Spencer’s hand drawing patterns on her back from time to time. He kissed her forehead and her temple when her felt her breaths slowing down to a familiar beat.

“Goodnight, my love.” He whispered softly on her temple. Spencer fell asleep a couple minutes after her.

They did not need to speak to communicate between one another. They could lay in each other arms without having a single worry about the outside world. They thought about each other, all the time, and that’s why they were so perfect together.

Spencer couldn’t wait for the day he would ask her to marry him. Maybe that day would come sooner than she would expect it…

[cod-imagines-fanfiction]

Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend to be interrogated by the 141 (2k words, part 1)

Summary: Inspired by one of my headcanons for Valeria. Valeria has gifted you a whole wing in her massive residence in Las Almas. Alejandro infiltrates the mansion to gather intel and finds you, Valeria's girlfriend. You are kidnapped by Alejandro and interrogated by the 141 on Valeria and her whereabouts. Got a bit carried away and will make a part 2! Link to fanfic on A03

Notes: Sorry for butchering Mexican Spanish, I Google-translated everything! Also tagging @lesvii in case u wanted to read it! TW: mentions of cheating, toxic Alejandro, threat of violence.

It was another beautiful night for you at the rich luxurious mansion of your girlfriend Valeria Garza, the infamous cartel mogul of Las Almas and Latin America. In the lowest basements of the estate sat enemies, tied on their chairs and ruthlessly interrogated by Valeria's henchmen. Blood stains littered the floor, the moans of these victims muffled by the layers of concrete that stood between them and the world above the surface. And much further above, on a secluded and spoiled part of the estate, you stretched lazily on a golden bathtub filled with hot water and bubbles, feeling the dolphin-shaped taps that winked at you with diamond eyes as you played around with the water. Your bathroom was filled with the scent of lavender and honey and you enjoyed another night of hard-earned relaxation. It wasn't easy being this loved and spoiled, but someone had to do it! Sure, Valeria had a prominently dark side that demanded constant attention, and could be a handful to love. Valeria needed three warm homemade meals every day, love each morning and night and a massage break during her siesta, and you met all of her wishes. In return, Valeria loved you hard and expensively.

Today was an especially tough day because Valeria needed to leave for a business trip.

"It's just three days, okay mi amor? I'll be back before you know it," she fussed over you at her doorstep, one of the few times she'd let you be seen by her henchmen. Ever since you were moved into Valeria's residence, she had scarcely left your side. And now here she was, needing to leave for some kind of business meeting that she refused to elaborate on. You knew it must've been important because you would hear various personnel discuss it carelessly when they thought you weren't listening from your balcony. And it must've been very important if it meant keeping her away from you for days. "But what about morning cuddles?" You sulked and held on to her shirt with the tip of your fingers. It was a bit self-indulgent and dramatic, but you really were going to miss her, and Valeria loved to feel needed anyway, so such pathetic displays were more than welcome. "I'll call you whenever I can, okay? Now give me a kiss."

And that's how you ended up having to amuse yourself for several days.

And that's when Alejandro decided to infiltrate the Las Almas residence.

You were soaking in the warm water, completely oblivious to the fact that your girlfriend's ex-lover was eyeing the residence for a vulnerable entry point. As you lathered your body in oils and creams, he was butchering the guards and dumping their bodies behind the bushes. As you sat on your Queen sized bed ready to rest for the night, he stood behind the door, listening. Alejandro had guessed that this must be Valeria's private area of the mansion because it was significantly nicer than the rest, and that said something. Whereas the rest of the mansion looked like it came from a luxury housekeeping catalogue, this part was more...personal. It had a personal touch to it, a woman's touch. And he knew Valeria had no interest in interior decoration. He passed hallways with floral and sensual pieces of art, past vases with carefully arranged flowers that probably had a deeper significance than he realised. Past a fully stocked kitchen with something freshly cooked on the stove, past a well-used sitting area decorated with pictures of two women smiling at the camera. Jealousy tugged at his heart at these displays of domesticity. He pulled a spy cam cord from his pocket and slid it underneath the door. And there on the bed, amid fluffy cushions and blankets, sat you.

And he remembered exactly who you were.

"Hermano, all good in there?" Soap's voice came through in his earpiece, jolting Alejandro from his revenge fantasy. "Si, be out in five," he whispered and pulled the camera back. It'd be more efficient to knock on the door and wait to take you with chloroform, but he could bet on his life that you were not part of the cartel. This was very much a regular civilian woman, a little trophy wife. And trophy wives can't fight off military personnel. Alejandro rammed through the door and lunged for you before you even had a moment to turn around. Having tucked yourself in your blankets, you had no time to even get up before this strange man put his hands on you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Strange men with various insignias on their uniforms paced around the residence as you were pushed forward and towards the garden. The man was with Mexican Special Forces, that much you could tell. He laughed darkly and tightened his grip on you. "So, big El Sinobre left you behind, eh? Not so big and scary now, are we?" To your horror and surprise, a helicopter was lowering itself to the ground and shone a bright light on you, like you were a criminal. You wanted to protest that you hadn't actually done anything, but you were guilty by association. Another man leaned out of the helicopter and extended his arm to grab you. "That don't look like cartel to me, brother," a slightly Southern American accent decorated his speech as he grabbed your elbow and chucked you in. The Mexican man followed you along with some others. "She's the next best thing after Valeria, trust me. She'll come running to us in no time."

"Hermano, you sure about this? There are different rules for civilians." Another man spoke, a man with a mohawk and the Union Jack flag on his vest. The helicopter started raising itself off the ground and took off to God knows where. You were in your pyjamas still, feeling silly and vulnerable, too afraid to say anything. Valeria always warned people to stay quiet in front of enemies, and you couldn't be blamed for anything you hadn't said. "I'm positive, Hermano. I know how she works. We take something from her, and she'll come looking." The man sat right across from you, his eyes never leaving you. He was tall and dark, around Valeria's age you'd guess, maybe older. There was a menacing look in his eyes, as though he couldn't stand to look at you, yet his dark eyes never left yours. There was something else lurking underneath that you couldn't put your finger on. It was almost like hatred, though you couldn't understand why he'd hate you personally - you'd never seen him before. And yet he spoke of Valeria with such familiarity...it chilled you.

Next thing you knew, you were in some headquarters. Masses of soldiers marched to and from the facility, taking the time to glance your way as the men brought you to one of the warehouses. Amidst the uniformed men with pounds of kit on themselves, you felt naked. Within the warehouse was a metal container that, to your horror, seemed to be your new resting place. You were thrown on a chair and the container sealed shut after them. "She's being surprisingly cooperative so far," the man with the skull mask grumbled as he leaned back with his arms crossed. "Either that or poor thing doesn't speak English," said the American.

"I can speak English," you whispered and nodded to them, the first thing you said so far. "Perfecto." The American clapped his hands and walked towards you. He lowered himself to your level and brought his face menacingly close to yours, so close you could feel his breath on your cheek. "Now, we can do this the nice way. Or we can do this the army way. What will it be, sweetheart?" He stared you down with his blue eyes and you noticed the scar on his cheek; a clean slice on his combat-hardened face. You swallowed hard. "The nice way." He grinned with satisfaction and raised himself. "That's what I like to hear."

The man who kidnapped you stepped forward, towering over you and not bothering to lower himself like the American. "Where's Valeria?" He spat her name out like poison and your heart sank. "I don't kn-," you'd started saying but stopped when you saw how his eyes darkened. "She doesn't tell me anything. She keeps her business separate from me." "And who exactly are you?" The masked man spoke, his deep voice reverberating within the container. The Mexican man scoffed and paced around mumbling to himself. "This should be good." "Alejandro, please." Another man scolded in a whisper. Alejandro glared at him and shook his head, then looked at you with a deep frown that contorted an otherwise handsome face. His eyes, you realised, were looking at your fingers, one of which wore a thick golden band.

"I'm her partner." You resisted the urge to play with your ring, afraid of making any move in front of them. The American laughed loudly, making you jolt in your seat. "A cartel run by a lesbian, eh? Man, I love my job." "She's not a lesbian," Alejandro snapped quickly. The American stood up taller. "My friend, I think you need to cool off." "¡Anímate y díselo!" He yelled at you. "Alright, now hold on. How do you two know each other?" The American demanded as he pointed to you and Alejandro. "I don't know him," you mumbled and shook your head. "Mierda! You know perfectly well who I am." He exploded again. The man with the mohawk and the other Mexican man looked at you wearily, moving a little bit closer to you in light of Alejandro's outbursts. "I'm sorry, I really don't," you said with a wavering voice. That seemed to really set him off. Alejandro charged at you while swearing. "Vete al infierno hija de puta-"

The two men reached forward and drew him away from you. "Alejandro-" "Calm down, Commander." He shook them off then span around and looked at you again, his firsts curled on the handles of his vest. "Okay, go on. Speak." "I already told you she doesn't tell me anything! She doesn't want me to be involved and she doesn't tell me where she goes. I just take care of the house and that's it. And she'll be mighty pissed when she sees I'm gone." You threw your words at him.

"And now, you," the American pointed at Alejandro. "Valeria served in the Mexican Army, same unit but different squads. Until she betrayed us for the cartel. That's how I know her."

Suddenly, you realised who he was. You'd heard whispers about him amongst Valeria's friends. She would frequently be teased about 'moving camps' and being a heartbreaker. One of them even joked about how you were a homewrecking housewife. Valeria made sure you didn't see those people again. You thought it was all part of a big joke, until now. That part of her past, you guessed, must be him.

The American looked at you and you nodded. "Yes, she did that when we first met. But I don't know anything specific, she didn't tell me." The man who called Alejandro 'commander' looked at you closely and he, too, seemed familiar. He was also part of the Mexican Special Forces and seemed to be paired up with Alejandro. He had large, round brown eyes that were not unkind. He spoke up: "I remember her too. Valeria and she met just a bit before Valeria left the Mexican Army." The American looked at you with disdain after that, and the other man continued. "But she's not lying about not knowing Alejandro. Valeria kept her out of our business." You looked at him with relief and he looked away.

"Well we just pulled a heck of an operation to weed this one out, and we're not leaving until we get some answers," said the American man. "And I don't believe for a second that you're entirely clueless. Now you can either start singing or I'm gonna show you the difference between the military and me."

Notes: Thanks for reading! Link to part 2 :> Link to part 3

[stylesonfilms]

ink & innocence - 11

word count: 6.9k

heres the awaited update!! i got in at 2 am and have been working on it since, its 5:30 am now!! hope u enjoy!

When the semester started back up again, Aspen found herself buried under the weight of her new workload. Classes demanded more than she expected, and the long hours spent poring over textbooks and notes left little room for herself, let alone time to see Harry. She felt like her world had shifted entirely to the library or her desk at home, where assignments piled up faster than she could cross them off.

That also meant she saw less of Harry. Each day that passed without seeing him seemed to stretch longer, her thoughts lingering on him more than she wanted to admit. She hated how easily she could recall the feeling of his hands brushing her skin or the way his lips curved when he smiled—how that smile seemed reserved just for her. By now, Isobel was well in tune with what was happening between them. Though nothing had been made official, it was clear there was something brewing. Aspen occasionally found herself at Harry's place, sneaking in fleeting kisses that inevitably stretched into hours tangled on his couch, her cheeks flushed pink by the time she was dropped off at home.

On Harry's end, things weren’t much different. Niall and Zayn remained blissfully unaware—or at least pretended to be. They hadn’t pressed him about it, though Harry suspected they had their suspicions. Still, he wasn’t one to share personal details, and his feelings for Aspen were something he preferred to keep tucked away, both in his mind and on the pages of his journal. Each time he wrote about her, his handwriting grew messier, betraying the restless emotions he wasn’t used to feeling.

As more days passed, Harry found himself thinking about her more frequently. The texts they exchanged helped fill the void, but it wasn’t enough. They spoke throughout the day—small updates, silly jokes, and the occasional goodnight text—but nothing could compare to having her close. He missed the way she fit perfectly against him, the soft curve of her smile, and how her shy laughter sounded like a melody he never wanted to end.

Aspen wasn’t immune to her distractions either. During lectures, her mind wandered far too often. A professor could be explaining a complex derivative, and she’d find herself remembering the way Harry’s arms tightened around her waist as he kissed her. Even mundane tasks like shelving books became harder to focus on, as her thoughts drifted to the warmth of his green-eyed gaze or the way his rough fingers brushed against her softer skin.

Finally, the week ended, and Aspen was blessed with the rare gift of a completely free weekend. No homework loomed over her, no shifts were scheduled, and for once, no tests needed studying. During her last lecture of the day, she realized her upcoming freedom and quickly texted Harry:

Aspen: mmmhm! i’m free i’m freeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Harry’s lips quirked up into a soft smile when he read her text, his green eyes briefly glancing around the empty shop before he typed his reply:

Harry: Let me pick you up from the library today? I’ll be done here at five.

Aspen: yes! i promised marion that i would shelf some books before i take off for the weekend. can you wait a few mins?

Harry: Anything for you, sun.

Harry clicked his phone shut and slipped it into the back pocket of his black skinny jeans, the faintest smile still lingering on his face. He turned to the sink, scrubbing his hands clean, the soap foaming white under the running water. After drying them off, he snapped on a fresh pair of nitrile gloves and turned his attention back to the supplies on the metal tray in front of him. "Alright, Z. You ready?"

Zayn grinned, his excitement evident even as he settled into the chair. Harry’s eyes flicked to the reference papers Zayn had brought in—designs inspired by Isobel’s lipstick marks on scraps of paper. Zayn had teased Harry relentlessly while they worked on the design, but Harry had focused, sketching until they both agreed on a final concept: a kiss print nestled between a pair of delicately detailed angel wings.

The machine buzzed softly as Harry began the work, his gloved hand steady as he guided the needle. He paused frequently to clean the area, ensuring the lines stayed sharp and smooth. Zayn’s chatter filled the space as Harry worked, but his mind occasionally wandered to Aspen. Would she still be shelving books when he arrived? Would she smile shyly when she saw him, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear like she always did when she was nervous?

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

By the time Harry arrived at the library, the sun had set, casting long shadows across the building's entrance. He pushed the door open, the soft chime signaling his arrival. His eyes scanned the quiet room, landing almost immediately on Aspen. She was behind the library desk, her head bent over a stack of returns. A stray strand of hair fell across her face as she worked, and he watched as she tucked it behind her ear absentmindedly.

She didn’t notice him at first, too engrossed in her task. He leaned against the counter, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “Busy night?”

Her head shot up, her wide eyes softening as they locked onto his familiar figure, and a soft smile curved her lips. “Harry,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper, carrying just enough warmth to melt through the quiet buzz of the library. For a brief moment, she was struck by the urge to stretch across the counter, her arms aching to wrap around him, to pull him close and feel the comfort she missed in the weeks they’d been apart. But the soft murmur of voices and the rustling of pages around them made her pause, grounding her in the present. Instead, she offered him a shy smile, the kind that made her eyes dart to the side in nervousness before finding their way back to him.

"Hey, doll. Wha's that you're workin' on?" Harry nudged his head toward the stack of books, his voice smooth yet laced with curiosity. His keys spun lazily around his finger, the metallic jingling matching the calm cadence of his words. Though his eyes lingered on her, intent and focused, he allowed them to flick briefly to the stack of books as she explained her task—returns that needed scanning and shelving before she could call it a day.

“Would y'like some help?”

The question caught Aspen off guard. She blinked up at him, the thought of Harry offering to help with something so mundane leaving her a little flustered. She’d expected him to wait patiently in the car, maybe scrolling through his phone or listening to music until she was done. But instead, here he was, standing in front of her with an earnest expression that made her heart flutter unexpectedly. Her mind stuttered to process, and her response stumbled out, shy and small. “Y-yes, please. If you’d like to.”

Harry gave a small nod, slipping his keys into the pocket of his black skinny jeans. His footsteps were confident as he walked around the counter, his tall frame effortlessly commanding the space. “Alright,” he said with a crooked smile, “where d’you want me? What should I do?”

Kiss me, she thought instinctively, the boldness of her unspoken desire catching her off guard. Her cheeks flushed a deep pink as she scrambled to push the thought away, acutely aware of how it made her feel vulnerable and exposed. Aspen had always carried this strange belief that her thoughts could somehow be read by the people around her, and with Harry standing so close, she feared her reaction was written all over her face.

“J-just help me push around the cart? Is that okay?” Her voice wavered slightly as she gestured to the metal cart, hastily piling books onto it after scanning them into the system. From the corner of her eye, she noticed how his hands wrapped firmly around the cart’s handle, the muscles in his forearms flexing subtly under the grip. Her focus wavered again, and she moved with a newfound determination, trying her best to finish quickly so he wouldn’t have to wait too long.

After a few minutes, Aspen led the way down the aisles, her steps light but purposeful as Harry followed close behind, pushing the cart with ease. They stopped in the non-fiction section, where she reached for three thick Chemistry 10 textbooks. Balancing them in her arms, she stretched onto her tiptoes, her tongue peeking out at the corner of her lips as she tried to reach the top shelf.

Before she could place the books, she felt Harry’s hands gently settle on her hips, grounding her with a soft but steady pressure. “Here, let me,” he murmured, his voice low and close to her ear. Aspen froze, her heart thudding in her chest as he took the books from her hands, his fingers brushing against hers for the briefest moment. With an effortless reach, he slotted the books into their rightful place on the shelf, the motion fluid and precise.

“There we are,” Harry hummed, his voice warm with satisfaction as his hands returned to her hips. His touch lingered, his thumbs tracing faint circles against the fabric of her leggings. Aspen felt her breath catch as he shifted slightly closer, his presence wrapping around her like a comforting weight.

He scanned their surroundings quickly, his green eyes sweeping over the quiet aisles until he was sure they were alone. Satisfied, he ducked his head, his breath warm against the shell of her ear as he inhaled the soft, familiar scent that had stayed with him for days. “Can I kiss you?” he muttered, his voice barely audible, a husky whisper laced with a longing that sent a shiver down her spine. His thumbs pressed a little deeper into her hips, grounding her while his words made her head spin.

Aspen took a sharp breath, the heat rushing to her cheeks like a tidal wave. Her lips parted, but only a soft squeak escaped, her nervousness bubbling over. “H-Harry,” she stammered, her hands trembling slightly as they reached up to cover his, pulling them away gently so she could turn to face him. Her wide eyes met his, the emotions swirling in his gaze making her heart race even faster.

“Not here, okay?” she whispered, her voice steady despite the blush staining her cheeks. “Is that okay?”

Harry stared at her for a moment, the intensity in his gaze softening into something more tender. He nodded, his lips curving into a faint smile as he brought her hand to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “Of course, love. My apologies.”

Though he stepped back slightly, the weight of his words and the warmth of his touch lingered between them, leaving Aspen feeling a strange mix of relief and anticipation.

They continued about their day, Harry kissing over her knuckles or a kiss to the top of her head before he helped her reach the higher shelves. God, how he wanted to actually kiss her pained him. It only took another ten minutes, if that, before Aspen was slinging her totebag over her shoulders and bidding a good weekend to Marion. When she appeared out of the back room, Harry looked up from his phone, locking it and tucking it back into his pocket while he stood up. "Y'ready?" He asked, holding his hand out for her to take it. The familiar feeling that he missed of her fingers curling around his warmed up his hand, and he pulled her a bit closer as they walked out. 

Harry opened the passenger door with his usual care, stepping aside to let Aspen climb into the car. The cold night air bit at her skin as she slid into the seat, grateful to escape its grasp. The interior of the car was still chilly, but not nearly as bitter as outside. She shivered lightly, clutching the ends of her off-the-shoulder long sleeve, the thin material doing little to combat the weather. The fabric clung to her figure, and her flared leggings offered minimal warmth against the evening breeze.

As she clicked her seatbelt into place, the driver’s side door opened, and Harry climbed in, his presence immediately warming the space. The familiar sound of the engine hummed to life, quickly followed by a rush of heat from the vents. Aspen instinctively held her hands over them, sighing contently as the warm air washed over her chilled fingers and spread through her body.

Harry chuckled softly at her small gesture, the sound low and comforting, as he reached for his seatbelt. "Cold, huh?" he teased, his emerald eyes flicking over to her with a glimmer of amusement.

“Freezing,” Aspen replied, her voice muffled slightly as she kept her face near the vents, soaking in the much-needed warmth.

It had become their unspoken routine whenever Aspen rode in Harry’s car. As the warmth filled the space, his hand naturally found its place on her leg, just above her knee. His thumb began its familiar rhythm, tracing lazy, thoughtless shapes into the fabric of her leggings. The small motion sent a ripple of comfort through her. Occasionally, Aspen would place her hand over his, her fingers playing idly with the silver rings that adorned them, twisting each one gently as though committing them to memory.

She could feel his gaze lingering on her, and after a moment, her shy eyes flitted toward him. His intense stare caught her off guard, and she noticed the car hadn't moved despite the engine purring for the past few minutes. “Is something wrong?” she asked, her brows knitting together in curiosity. A small, playful pout tugged at her lips, an expression that made Harry’s heart stutter.

His eyes dropped briefly to her lips before rising to meet her wide, questioning gaze. “I jus’ really want t’kiss you. Can I?” His voice was soft but deliberate, holding a vulnerability that made Aspen’s cheeks flush instantly.

Her heart fluttered wildly at his words, and she turned instinctively toward the library entrance. A stream of people had begun flooding the parking lot, their chatter and footsteps filling the night air. She hesitated, her eyes darting back to Harry’s as the blush on her cheeks deepened.

Sensing her apprehension, Harry gave her knee a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay, Asp,” he murmured, his tone warm and grounding. “You can always tell me no, and I’ll listen. I want what you want.”

Her chest swelled at his words, the sincerity in his gaze making her stomach twist in that all-too-familiar way. Aspen hesitated for a beat longer before leaning forward slightly, her lips parting with a soft, almost timid, “Okay.”

Harry’s smile was slow and tender, his hand sliding slightly higher on her thigh as he leaned across the console. His lips met hers cheek gently, placing a lingering kiss that made her feel relaxed. It wasn’t rushed or demanding; it was patient and deliberate, as though he was savoring every second of it.

When he pulled away, Aspen blinked up at him, her cheeks glowing with a mix of cold and warmth. “I missed you,” she admitted softly, the confession slipping out before she could stop it.

Harry chuckled, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek. “Missed you too, sun,” he murmured.

Before they could linger too long in the moment, Aspen’s phone buzzed in her bag. She fished it out, squinting at the screen. “It’s Isobel,” she said, reading the message. “She’s staying with Zayn tonight.”

Harry arched a brow, leaning back in his seat as he shifted the car into reverse. “Guess that means I’m takin’ you home,” he said, his tone laced with a teasing suggestion which made Aspen shy herself into her seat.

The ride to Harry’s apartment was quiet but comfortable, filled with soft music and the warmth of stolen glances. When they arrived, Harry parked and walked Aspen up to his door, his hand lightly resting on the small of her back. He unlocked the door and stepped aside, letting her enter first.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto a chair. “I’ll order us some takeout. Any requests?”

Aspen wandered into the living room, setting her bag down by the couch as she took in the familiar space. It smelled like him—clean and musky, with a hint of something spicy lingering in the air. “Anything’s fine,” she replied, her voice soft as she perched on the edge of the couch.

Harry nodded, pulling out his phone as he leaned against the counter. “Alright. We’ll get somethin’ good. Y'can pick a movie if y’want.”

Aspen smiled to herself, feeling the ease of their dynamic settle back into place as she began scrolling through his neatly organized stack of DVDs. The titles were meticulously arranged alphabetically, a detail she found both endearing and amusing given the casual chaos of the rest of his apartment. Her fingers lingered over the cases, occasionally pulling one halfway out to examine the cover before tucking it back in its spot. She eventually decided on The Aristocats, a classic that sparked a nostalgic warmth in her chest. After slipping the disc into the DVD player and clicking the TV on, she turned toward the couch, her eyes following Harry shyly as he emerged from the kitchen, balancing two steaming mugs in his hands.

He set the mugs down on the coffee table, his gaze catching hers briefly with a teasing smile before he took his seat. Jasper, his sleek black cat, wasted no time weaving between their legs, his silky fur brushing against their ankles as he meowed insistently. Aspen reached down to scoop the demanding feline into her lap, the soft weight of him grounding her as she dug her fingers into his fur, earning a satisfied purr.

Harry leaned back into the couch, his posture relaxed yet commanding as his arms draped across the backrest. His gaze flicked between Aspen and Jasper, his lips quirking in a way that made his dimples deepen. She didn’t notice at first, too focused on the rhythmic motion of her hand stroking the cat, but the growing smirk on his face was hard to miss.

"What’s so funny?" she huffed, her brows knitting together as she squinted up at him. Her hands didn’t pause in their ministrations, much to Jasper’s delight, his purrs growing louder.

Harry’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You’re jus’... I guess you could say you’re playing with a pussy on my co—"

"Harry!" Aspen squealed, cutting him off as she lunged forward to slap her hand over his mouth. Her cheeks burned an intense red, the heat crawling up to the tips of her ears. Harry’s laugh vibrated against her palm, his amusement muffled but unmistakable.

He peeled her hand away gently, his dimples on full display as he tossed his hands up in mock surrender. "What? It was funny," he defended, his voice laced with unrepentant laughter.

Aspen glared half-heartedly at him, though the corners of her mouth twitched as if fighting off a smile. "You’re impossible," she grumbled, tucking her legs beneath her and pulling a throw pillow into her lap as if to shield herself from further embarrassment. She turned away, releasing Jasper from her lap with a huff, the cat hopping gracefully to the floor and padding away in search of a quieter corner. "Sorry, your dad ruined the moment," she muttered under her breath, her tone laced with mock indignation.

Harry chuckled again, the sound low and warm as he scooted closer. "C'mere, baby," he murmured, his voice softening as he reached out to tap her shoulder. His tone held a gentleness that made her heart skip, and before she could protest, he took her hand and helped her to her feet.

The movement was brief, just enough for him to guide her down onto the couch beside him, her body instinctively leaning into his as he tucked her against his side. His arm curled around her, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder as his fingers traced absentminded patterns against the fabric of her shirt.

Harry’s nose buried into her hair, and he inhaled softly, his lips brushing against her temple. The faint scent of her shampoo, a delicate mix of vanilla and something floral, lingered in the air between them. "You smell amazing," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, sending a shiver down her spine.

Aspen felt her cheeks heat again, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she let herself sink into the comfort of his embrace, her hands resting lightly against his chest. The movie played on in the background, the familiar animation and soft melodies creating a cocoon of warmth around them.

Harry nestled another kiss to her temple, lingering just long enough for her to feel the subtle press of his lips before he turned his attention back to the screen. His thumb continued its soothing motion against her arm, and Aspen let out a quiet sigh, her earlier embarrassment melting away into a quiet, contented calm.

The knock on the door pulled them both from their quiet comfort. Jasper darted off Aspen’s feet at the sound, his tail flicking in mild annoyance as he trotted toward the hallway. Harry gently untangled himself from her and stood, stretching briefly before heading to the door.

“Chinese is here,” he called over his shoulder, tossing her a quick grin as he grabbed his wallet from the counter. Aspen adjusted her position on the couch, her legs curling beneath her as she watched him exchange pleasantries with the delivery person.

When Harry returned, he carried the brown paper bag in one hand, the smell of sweet and savory spices wafting through the room. “Smells good, doesn’t it?” he said, setting the bag on the coffee table and pulling out the containers.

Aspen nodded eagerly, her stomach growling at the sight. “It smells amazing. What did you get?”

“Couple of m'favorites—orange chicken, beef lo mein, and dumplings. Thought we could share.” He shot her a wink as he grabbed two sets of chopsticks from the bag, handing one to her.

Aspen opened the container of orange chicken first, the steam rising as she took her first bite. “Mmm,” she hummed, covering her mouth with her hand. “This is so good. You’re officially in charge of ordering takeout from now on.”

Harry smirked, his eyes flickering toward her as he took a bite of lo mein. “That right? Guess I’ll have to keep impressin’ you, huh?”

Their banter continued as they ate, the movie playing softly in the background. Every so often, Harry reached over with his chopsticks to steal a bite from her container, earning a mock glare from Aspen. She retaliated by snatching one of his dumplings, popping it into her mouth with a triumphant smile.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” he teased, his voice warm and low.

Aspen shrugged innocently, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “You started it.”

As the movie played on, they settled further into the couch, their containers now abandoned on the coffee table, save for a few leftover bites. Harry stretched his arm along the back of the couch again, pulling Aspen closer until she was nestled against his side.

“Comfortable?” he murmured, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her shoulder.

She nodded, her cheek pressing against his chest. “Very,” she whispered, her voice laced with contentment.

Time seemed to slow as they sank into the moment. The warmth of Harry’s body against hers, the quiet hum of the movie, and the faint aroma of takeout lingering in the air made everything feel soft and surreal.

As the movie neared its end, Harry’s gaze drifted from the screen to Aspen. Her focus remained on the animated cats dancing across the screen, her lips curved into a faint smile. He couldn’t help but marvel at her—the way her hair framed her face, the way her glasses slid slightly down her nose, and the way her fingers absently played with the hem of her sleeve.

“You’re beautiful, y’know that?” he murmured, his voice cutting through the quiet.

Aspen blinked, her head tilting up to look at him. The blush that colored her cheeks was immediate, her lips parting in surprise. “Harry...”

“I mean it,” he said, his green eyes locking onto hers. His hand cupped her cheek gently, his thumb brushing over her flushed skin. “You’re so beautiful, Aspen.”

She swallowed hard, her heart racing as she searched his face. The sincerity in his gaze made her chest tighten in the best possible way. “Thank you,” she whispered, leaning into his touch.

Harry’s lips curved into a soft smile, and he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “Anytime, love.”

Hearing words like that from Harry, her big, intimidating, scary Harry, made her stomach fill with butterflies she could never had imagined herself having.

They returned their attention to the movie, though the atmosphere between them had shifted slightly, the air tinged with something deeper. As the final few scenes played out, Harry’s arm tightened around her, and Aspen felt a warmth bloom in her chest that rivaled anything she’d ever felt before.

Harry ended up nudging Aspen slightly, his shoulder bumping her up. The girl looked up, tilting her head as if to ask him 'what?' He hummed, the arm not wrapped around her shoulders went to rest on her knee once again. He gave it a gentle squeeze. "I haven't kissed you all day t'day," He mumbled. Before she could open her mouth to speak, he sighed softly. "Can I please kiss you? Please?"

Aspen blinked up at him, her cheeks aflame as his words lingered in the air. "Y-you’re... you’re too much," she mumbled, ducking her head in an attempt to hide behind the curtain of her hair. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sweater, twisting it nervously as she peeked at him from beneath her lashes.

Harry, however, wasn’t about to let her retreat. "Too much?" he repeated, his voice full of mock offense but underlined with a genuine softness. He leaned closer, dipping his head to catch her eyes. "No, love, you’ve got it all wrong," His thick voice muttered, "I’m just the right amount when it comes to you."

Aspen’s lips parted as though she wanted to reply, but her voice failed her, the words getting stuck in her throat. Instead, she shrank further into herself, her shy demeanor only making Harry’s heart ache in the best possible way.

"You don’t believe me, d'you?" Harry pressed, his thumb brushing her cheek gently. "Alright, I’ll prove it. You’re the one thing I can’t stop thinking about. I wake up wishing you were next to me. I go to sleep kicking myself for not being braver with you. You’re in m'sketchbook, my bloody head, everywhere, Aspen. And ’s torture. Possibly the best damn kind."

Aspen’s breath hitched, her wide eyes darting to meet his as her blush deepened. "I-I don’t know what to say," she whispered, her voice so quiet it barely reached him.

Harry gave a self-deprecating laugh, running his free hand through his hair before letting it rest over his heart. "You don’t have to say anything. Just—just let me show you, yeah? Give me a chance to kiss you again. I’ll even beg, if that’s what it takes." His lips curved into a small, pleading smile, his dimples making a faint feature as he dipped his head closer.

"Harry, I..." Aspen trailed off, her fingers trembling as she clutched at the edge of her sweater.

"Please, love," he whispered, the desperation in his voice both playful and painfully sincere. He brought her hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. "I’ve missed you too much. One more kiss. Just one. I swear I’ll behave after that."

Aspen’s gaze flickered between his earnest expression and the way his thumb traced over her hand. Her heart pounded as she struggled to form a coherent thought. Finally, she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

His furrowed brows relaxed with a content sigh, his tongue poking out to wet his lips slightly as he moved impossibly closer. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he cradled her face in his hands. His lips brushed hers so softly, it was as though he was savoring every second, committing the moment to memory. 

Harry didn’t waste a second. His hand tilted her chin up as he closed the distance, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that started tender but quickly grew more urgent. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a pouring out of everything he’d been holding back—the longing, the adoration, the quiet ache he felt every time he looked at her and couldn’t have her close enough.

Aspen responded hesitantly at first, her hands finding their way to his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. But as Harry’s lips moved against hers, slow yet deliberate, she melted into him completely.

This time, Aspen didn’t pull back in hesitation. Instead, she let herself fall into the kiss, her hands resting timidly on his chest as his warmth surrounded her. Harry groaned softly against her lips, his thumb caressing her cheek as he deepened the kiss just enough to make her knees feel weak, even while seated. His tongue swiped over her bottom lip carefully, but before she could let him in, he pulled back.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against hers, his voice was a breathless whisper. "You have no idea how much I needed that. You’re gonna ruin me, doll. Completely ruin me."

Aspen’s shy giggle broke the moment, her cheeks still rosy as she looked down at her lap. 

 "C'mere," he pulled his arm from over her and helped pull her to sit straddled on his lap. "We won't go anywhere you aren't ready to go, okay? I jus' want t'kiss you some more. Can I do that? Can you sit on m'lap and be my good girl?"

Aspen's breath hitched in her throat at his last question. Nervously, she nodded while her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt that fell above his shoulders. Pleased with her answer, Harry flashed a small smile while one of his hands snaked to cup her jaw, tilting her head down. 

Their lips connected at a slow pace first, Harry being careful and letting her adjust to their new seating arrangement. After a couple of slow kisses, their heads tilted to deepen their shared kiss. Harry wasted no time in swiping his tongue along her bottom lip and taking advantage of the warm invitation. Once their flow was found, his hands went back to their place on the curve of her hips. He loved when she wore leggings, it was the closest he could get to feeling her-- the thinnest material aside from her jeans and sweats that she occasionally wore. 

Aspens tongue shyly twisted around Harrys. His lead was easy to follow, the messy movements still clean and sent chills down her spine. Her hands rested on his strong shoulders, feeling the occasional flex in his neck when he leaned in further to kiss her or when he tilted his head to deepen their kiss. 

Soon, his lips made their way from her lips to her cheek. He was slow, careful with the areas he planted his kisses. "Can I..." Harry’s voice was low, rough with desire as his hand moved to rest at the curve of her shoulder and neck, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her skin. "Can I kiss you here?"

Her heart raced at the question, her mind spinning as she weighed the request. Harry had always been so respectful, so careful, never pushing her beyond her comfort zone. The warmth in his gaze made her feel safe, like she could trust him with every vulnerable part of herself.

"Y-yes," she squeaked, the word barely audible as her teeth caught her bottom lip nervously.

Harry’s eyes darkened at the sight, a deep sigh escaping him as his thumb gently pulled her lip free. "God..." His voice was little more than a murmur before he leaned in to capture her lips in another kiss, slow and deliberate.

Harry took her chin between the bent of his index finger and thumb, his finger slowly pulling her bottom lip from her teeth so he could capture it in a softer kiss. He let her get warmed up once again, the hand on her hip slowly inching up to the hem of her shirt. Harrys hand was half under the thin material when his lips began to trail from her lips to her jaw.

His kisses were slow and lingered for specks of a moment. He carried his wet and warm kisses towards her pulse point. His plump red lips dragged lazily yet intentionally along her warm skin. Aspen tilted her head to the side for him to allow more access. 

His lips moved from hers to her jaw, then down the column of her neck, each kiss lingering just long enough to make her skin tingle. Aspen’s hands gripped his shoulders tighter, her breath hitching as his kisses grew more deliberate. When his lips brushed a particularly sensitive spot near her pulse point, a soft sound escaped her lips before she could stop it.

Harry smirked against her skin, his hands tightening slightly on her hips in response. "There we go," he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he pressed another kiss to the spot that had drawn her reaction.

Harry trailed his lingering kisses back up to her lips to capture them in another deep kiss. His hand was now fully tucked under her shirt, his ring clad hand flush against her bare waist. He gave a firm yet gentle squeeze and pulled her closer, his other hand dropping to do the same. When he pulled away, he pecked her lips and then nose with a small smile breaking through his lips. She would never get tired of seeing it on him.

His hands slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, the cool metal of his rings brushing against her warm skin as his palms splayed against her waist. He pulled her closer, his fingers flexing slightly as if trying to memorize the feel of her.

Harry pulled back just enough to press a quick kiss to the tip of her nose, a soft smile spreading across his lips. "How was that, baby?" His pupils had been blown and his lips carried a red tint as well as the same wet sheen she was sure to have on her lips as well. She nodded carefully and swallowed lightly. "I-It was good." Harry gave a content hum, asking her again. "Did you like it? Did y'like what I did?" 

"I.. I did." With another inhale, Aspen felt a rush of bravery. Maybe it was because it was just Harry and her now, but she pushed the words out before she succummed to her shyness again. "Is it okay if I.. if I try?" Her eyes pleaded with his to understand what she meant without having to say it.

Harry was quick to catch on, his furrowed brows easing into another look. One that made Aspens stomach curl. He nodded and exhaled deeply through his nose, his thumbs brushing against her bare skin under her shirt. "Yeah? You want to do that f'me?" Harry sat up a bit more, adjusting the girl on his lap so she could be more comfortable. 

It wasn't long until their lips were locked again. She truly would never get over kissing Harry, the girl thought. Something about him was so addictive. She didn't have anything or anyone to compare it to but she knew whatever he made her feel was a hundred times better compared to whatever else was out in the world, and that she never needed to find out what came close to his competition because all she needed was him.

Her hands gently brushed up his neck and towards the back to thread through the curls at the base of his neck. She tried her best to follow Harrys actions from her hazy memory. She let a soft giggle slip past her lips when Harrys hands brushed up against her sides in a ticklish manner before he planted them back onto her body. She dragged her lips like Harry did to her along his jaw and down the side of his neck. She kissed at his skin nice and slow with open kisses, allowing the warmth to close against his skin before she made her way down and around with more. 

Aspens hands slid down to his shoulders and he let out a soft groan of approval. His head was now leaned back to allow Aspen more space. She had to be heaven sent with the way these things came so naturally to her. His tongue wet his lips again, brushing along the metal lip ring.

Aspen hesitated for only a moment before leaning in, her lips finding his in a kiss that was hesitant but full of intent. Her fingers brushed against his neck before sliding up into the soft curls at the nape, earning a soft groan from Harry as he let her take the lead.

"Tha’s it, baby," he murmured against her lips, his hands guiding her hips gently. "You’re doing s'good. Feels so good." Harry's last words came out in a content sigh, gulping around the air to ease his dry mouth. There was no way she was this good. Or maybe it was just something about Aspen. Or both.

Aspen’s kisses grew braver as she followed his earlier movements, trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses along his jaw and down the side of his neck. Her heart pounded as she felt his breath hitch, his hands gripping her waist more firmly in encouragement.

"Swear you’re gonna be the end of me, Asp," Harry groaned, his head tilting back as her lips worked against his skin. His voice was rough, his words laced with a mixture of awe and disbelief. The cool air brushed along his damp neck while he pressed their lips together once again, a new need present. His hands squeezed her bare waist in approval before one of his hands slipped out to cup her chin and pull her away from his neck to tangle their tongues once more. 

Something about her bravery to do something like that back to him caused a shift in his hips. What he didn't expect was to Aspen shift her hips as well. He knew it was so she could adjust and get closer, but that didn't matter at all when he felt himself twitch in his jeans. He pulled away with a small gasp of air, his thumb back on her wet bottom lip. Harry's hand stilled her hips, swallowing slowly.

"Jesus, Asp. What the fuck."

Aspen tilted her head as she looked into his eyes through her lashes once more, her doe eyes taking form as if to question him. "Did.. did I mess up?"

Harry only groaned. "Fuck no." His green eyes, filled with need for the girl, scanned over her face once more. Her red cheeks were replaced with a more flustered look and her eyes had softened. Her lips became slick with spit over the red they wore from all the kissing they had done. 

"You jus' have no idea what you do t'me."

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Aspen's soft eyes blinked to fight away the blazing sun through the crack in the curtain. Her arms reached out to stretch her small frame, her body going limp and falling further into the mattress once her body relaxed. Her eyes remained closed until she heard soft footsteps making their way closer. A small knock came on the door before it clicked open. Aspen rubbed the sleep from her eyes, sitting up slightly. When she fluttered her eyes back to normal, she saw Harry. 

A small smile fit on her face. "Hi," she muttered, sleep still heavy on her voice. She didn't even remember falling asleep. The last thing she really remembered was tucking herself back into Harry's warm side after her stomach filled with butterflies from his praises on how good she did for him.

"Good morning, sun," Harry leaned down to press a small kiss to her head. He sat down in front of her on his bed, admiring her sleepy state. He took note of her furrowed brows, which usually meant she was a little confused. Harry never minded explaining things to her.

"You fell asleep during Lady and the Tramp. So I took you up here to sleep. I took the couch," He told her, his fingers coming to adjust the metal ring looped through his lip. "You just looked so peaceful, so I didn't want to wake you to take you home. If you want me to next time, I--."

Aspen cut him off with a little giggle and a shake of her head. "No, no this was great. Thank you. Your bed is sooo comfy," Aspen sighed contently and fell back into it which drew a small chuckle from Harry. 

He looked not like he had just woken up, but he didn't look ready for anything either. He was in a simple pair of black sweats and a loose white tee, his curls brushed back and a new coat of black nail polish on his hands.

He had woken up around eight, whereas Aspen woke up closer to nine thirty. So, while he waited and gave her space, he decided to busy himself with a shower and redid his nails. He eventually got bored and wandered his way back to Aspen, who he checked on about five times since he woke up, and to his luck, she had been awake this time. 

"Alright, sugar. C'mon and get up. Let's get you home before Isobel calls."

And just on cue, Aspen's phone rang to life with Isobel's contact name and photo flashing across her screen on Harry's bedside table.

Gosh dang it, Aspen thought to herself. Could Zayn really not have tired her out some more so she could sleep in? Aspen was in for a loooong day with Isobel. 

Harry only snickered, tossing his hands up in innocence. She only shot a playful glare before answering the dreaded call.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can i request headcandons of the spiderverse Boys with a shy nurse reader who is constantly tired? Being nurse and spider person is a physically and mentally demanding job and i think that would be nice see more spiderverse content, but if u don't want to make this request i understand

A/n: I’m sorry Most of these are either short cuz I didn’t know what to put for them or come across as a carbon copy of the other in due to me not knowing what to put there instead🤣

Miles sympathises with you wholeheartedly.

Trying to find a healthy balance between being a nurse -an intensive and highly demanding profession- and being a hero was definitely a challenge that had detrimental affects upon one’s mental and physical health.

Miles would affirm you with his words of praises and encouragement all the while holding you tightly, wilfully being your personal pillow/recharging station that often times he’d catch you fall asleep against him because his presence was that warm and comforting to you that it lulled you into a peaceful sleep.

Miles deeply admires your dedication to saving people not only as hero but also within the medical field. But he often does worry that you work yourself to the bone trying to find a way to perform both tasks without having them overlap one another.

There do come days where it all becomes a bit too much as your body grows sick and tired of your constant negligence and choose it’s way of rebelling by refusing you any sort of mobility of your limbs. Your mental state also tanks which only made your want to move even harder as you didn’t even have to willpower to make it so.

Miles would be a major source of comfort during these moments as he would remind you of all the achievements and accomplishments you’ve made during your tenure as both hero and Nurse. He’d probably have his music on as background noise whilst he’s taking the time and effort in making sure you’re as comfortable as possible.

Things he most often says are;

‘You have done so many amazing things and your only just getting started! How cool is that?!’

‘You’re an inspiration to not only the people you save on a daily basis but your also an inspiration to me as well that I even made art about you. Here, take a look!’

‘Don’t beat yourself up over this, you always get back up and hit them twice as hard because that’s what my y/n does, for my y/n ain’t no quitter, they’re a fighter.’

‘Bad days come to pass because the better ones always remain.’

‘Rest, I’ll take over from here.’

‘You’re not alone in this because I’m not going anywhere, I’ll be right here to catch you when you need me to.’

Pavitr would, If you let him, smother you in affection and cuddles but to the right amount so it doesn’t cross the border where it could potentially get annoying.

Which with Pav, it never does because his hugs and cuddles were the best and yet to be topped by anything or anyone because they are superior.

Plus they brought you warmth and comfort that you can’t help but bury yourself into his neck after a shit day in hopes of forgetting all about it as his hand rubs your back soothingly whilst also fighting the urge to just fall asleep then and there.

Also this lad would just spoil you with small gifts as to show his appreciation for you even though he does so quite eloquently enough with his words and his actions that this was merely the cherry on top.

Due to Pavitr being more able to read people then most, he’d notice the indicators within you that told him you weren’t feeling your best and he would make sure to take you to his favourite places within Mumbattan in hopes that it’ll help you by even just a little bit. After all he’s aware of the concept that fresh air and a change of pace were beneficial to a better mental health, and all he wants was for you to feel better, even if it was by a little that would mean a whole lot to him.

Hobie would want you to have a change of scenery from the hustle and bustle you subjugate yourself to on an daily basis to somewhere less noisy and loud within any aspect.

Sure it’s not his kind of scene but for you and how much work you put on yourself just to come home, looking as though any minute you were going to collapse? It was worth seeing you gradually become more relaxed and at peace to the point you fall asleep against his shoulder and he has to carry you back home.

again Hobie didn’t care since he knew how much sleep you missed out on and would not hesitate to get you a few days off if he feels as though you workplace was taking the piss out of you by thinking you were expendable.

He ain’t having none of that shit when it came to you.

Hobie wasn’t about to let you work yourself to the bone and not get a single thanks nor your flowers for busting your ass.

You tell him that it doesn’t bother you as you were doing what your job entails but Hobie more or less your backbone within these sorts of situations because he didn’t want you being taken advantage of just because you were ‘hard working.’ Not to say you aren’t but Hobie was more then well aware that this was often the excuse given when some shit stain wanted to offload their work onto someone else for personal gain.

It was always the ones who worked the least or didn’t work at all that got the appraisal and the promotions.

So Hobie would always and I mean ALWAYS praise you for everything you’ve done for he doesn’t believe you hear it enough for his liking.

Also he’s great with advice so when the days were particularly rough, he’d probably drop a bit of sage advice in regards to any aspect that you were finding hard to cope with like; ‘while the aspiration to save everyone is admirable; it’s unrealistic. For you’re setting yourself up to traverse down a road where instead of pointing out the problem, you are made to believe that you are the problem. Instead of trying to save everyone, focus on saving one person at a time for that one person could be someone else’s everything.’

Being the absolute secret sweetheart that he is, Miguel would try and help take the weight off of your shoulders and make your life a whole lot more easier by performing small acts of service that he knows you’ll greatly appreciate.

Even if it was the minuscule things such as; making you your favourite beverage, setting up a relaxing bath/ shower. fluffing up the pillows, smoothing the creases out of the duvet, cooking your favourite food since you always tell him that one of the things you always loved coming home to was the smell of his cooking. Hell do it all if it made you happy.

Miguel defiantly pampers you on the days where you felt more fatigued from your dual jobs. He doesn’t want you to do anything for you’ve already done enough to warrant yourself some much needed rest.

He lives to serve his beloved and would reject your requests to help him by planting kisses to your lips until you ultimately accept his pampering with little to no complaint.

If you were in the spider society, he’d give you time off because he’s the boss and all and if you were to go against his request for you to take time for yourself, he’d threaten to double it even though he was seriously considering it with how obvious tightroping two jobs was negatively effecting you.

Miguel doesn’t want you to overwork yourself but will overwork himself…what a hypocrite.

Soft Miguel is only soft with you.

[sojuyae]

no return

dazai osamu / reader + ??? / reader

notes: mild yandere themes, u drink alcohol, inspired by the manhwa 'a false confession' (massive rec hehe) drabble..? oneshot..? i don't know what to call this since it's not really fleshed out and not given that much thought so maybe its just a random blurb hahaha not proofread i just click post and never look back thats just how i am

the moment you step into the balcony, your legs almost gave out. your hand having to lean on the vine ornamented pillar as support. stillness draping over despite the festivity just behind the door.

just a few feet beyond you, stood your senior. even with your vision hazy and eyes half lidded, you think you can see his silhouette leaning over the railings, his back turned against you, coat billowing in the wind, tousling the hair of his that you've always wanted to tuck behind his ear.

he looks particularly different, today.

the man of your affections — whose hands that are always resting upon your shoulders, his touch lingering a far too much for someone who is only concerned about his coworker, muttering words of 'good job!' every time he looks over your computer to see the progress of the report he assigned.

he, who is always eager to bring you trinkets of all kinds after being assigned in a case, and if you had the ability similar to his, you would've caught on the fact that the trinkets are always given by him personally, rather than your unfortunate coworkers whose gifts are left in their desks.

yet frown would replace your previous smile once he pulls away with a pat; when you remember that everyone got the same gift as you did.

(oh, how you lamented every second that passes without him knowing how you felt.)

but that will change tonight — your intoxicated self decided to confess your long time admiration for your senior. 'and if he rejects your love, then you can just say that you were too drunk! it's easy!' tanizaki said so, as he handed you an alcoholic drink, and you shouldn't have trusted any words that comes out of the orange haired mans mouth.

even if the others knew how bad you felt about him, you prefer to believe that you could keep your feelings to yourself.

with a determination only a drunken one can have, you step further away from the loud music of the party and towards the man.

a heavy breath escapes your lips as you stand just a few feet behind him.

"sir," you first regard him with his title you've always used during work, and a part of you wonders if you'll be able to call him endearments you've always wanted to say after he accepts your confession.

you don't think you can look at him right now.

"i've been thinking about this a lot," you begin, hushed but nonetheless made for him to hear. "i, don't know if, i should really say this…" your eyes drift down to your feet, deliberating whether you should beat around the bush.

but you know you can't, this feelings of yours is too much; if you don't get to say it now, what will become of your sentiments? locked behind a glass heart that threatened to burst every time he's near?

"i really, really like you, sir." you finally say, your hands harshly gripping the sides of your clothes, scrunching them, wrinkles beginning to form on the flimsy fabric.

you refuse to meet his gaze.

silence ensues, the only sound heard; the loud rustling of the leaves against themselves.

"..."

ah, to think that you get rejected without even him saying anything.

"why?" he asks, then a hope ignites deep inside you.

"i just, really like it when you treat us kindly, you always go out your way to make sure i'm okay, your dedication to the agency is admirable, and i... just really like everything about you…"

"that's what any superior would do..." he replies coldly.

his words does not even travel first to your ears — it travels straight to your heart, so harshly that if it traveled to your ears first, you're certain you'd go deaf.

you stagger, the adrenaline the alcohol provided leaving your system.

then, he grabs your arm just in time, his bandaged hand surprisingly holding you delicately, as if he expects you to be gone once he pulls away.

"osamu. call me osamu, not sir." he says tenderly as he rests his hand on your shoulder, his arms coiling around you like a snake to a branch.

you smile gently as you bury your head in his chest. you can smell the faint scent of alcohol on his shirt, how strange, you've always thought he smell more like the sweets he'd always insist on eating. "osa—" the remaining syllables does not leave your tongue.

he rests his head on your shoulders, his curly coffee-like locks of hair tickling your neck.

osamu?

your eyes drift to his neck — are those bandages?

coffee-like?

dread fills your veins. dazai pulls back, your drunken haze along with it, finally able to look at him properly. his warm palm rests on your jaw. the dull brown eyes you’ve grown fearful of seems to reflect the stars, looking at you so, lovingly.

you don’t know what you’re supposed to be surprised of, the fact that a coworker whom you are scared of is looking at you softly, or the fact that he just accepted a confession that wasn’t meant to be his.

"should we keep our relationship a secret?" he asks with deceptive bashfulness.

--

"sir..?" you stammer as you try to look in ranpo's viridescent eyes for an answer to why he's holding your hand tightly.

"i've always thought that you…" his brows are knitted, refusing to meet your eyes, his own narrowed as he looks at the bracelet that adorns your wrist, an item begrudgingly accepted from dazai.

(he wonders if you would be mad if he forcibly ripped its beads out of you.)

he clicked his tongue at his own thoughts, shuffling to get a comfortable spot where he rested appropriately on his office chair.

"since when were you both close?"

[intothegenshinworld]

Here is one of my headcanon about the Gnosis in Sagau :

"What if the Gnosis were gifts from the creator ? Or what if the Gnosis store some of the Grace's power ? "

Now, this would all be confusing since the explanation is pretty long (and my fics are still in wips), but i was like

What if the Gnosis were not originally made to directly resonate with the celestia ? What if it was originally a gift from the creator as a reward for being victorious from the Archon war ?

Like, Venti and Zhongli are proves that they're powers are more limited when their Gnosis was taken, what if it was because the Gnosis hold some of the Graces powers and the Archons were simply just gained a power boost from it.

Now, so far we don't really know the process of giving the gnosis to the new Archon so far, like, was the original gnosis got passed down or does the old one wear off and the celestia simpy gave a new one, but i like to think it's the former rather than the latter.

It would explain on why the heavenly principal would show up when Nahida threatened Dottore to destroy it. Because it was a gift and one of the only legacy left from the creator before they "mysteriously disappear" (In my AU, things were a bit more complicated than that)

This was actually inspired by a scene in your fic where Y/N holds Zhongli's gnosis and it went brighter in their hands more than it was in Zhongli's, because it was from their power to begin with.

That's about the Gnosis lore, there's actually more but i'm just gonna share these for now, you can use it in ur own fic if u want! Though if anybody else want to do it (plz credit, ehe)

Sincerely

—The Lost Anon

This is a hidden gem and I love this idea so much!!

As you've seen from my scene mentioned above, when reader in Fate's Destiny holds the gnosis, it resonates with them and 'glows' brighter. But when Ningguang holds it, it remains dull. I can't spoil why this happens, but the gnosis in that story is indeed 'gifted' to the original Seven by the 'Creator'.

I really love this idea because it makes the gnosis more intimate, in a way. It's like a direct gift/part of the Creator you're able to hold, and if it resonates with you, you're able to resonate with the Creator.

And for your story, I think it adds even more depth because the Creator "mysteriously vanished" -aka, this is their last legacy and there is no Gnosis after destroying these.

You could write some fun plays about this, a.e. did you think about WHY the Tsarista wants them...? Is it more than power?

Furthermore, I'm happy to announce that in the next chapter of Fate's Destiny Signora shows up uu. It's something related to this, but it's also not. Currently writing it!!

[aubreysheadspace]

Hi. Take care of urself

and may I request a Mari x reader where the reader makes these little clay items and sells them but will also give them as presents to the gang and also just hand her random items. If it’s not too much may this be romantic? You don’t have to do this if ya don’t have to!

take care of urself and good day.

-chaos mushroom

MARI WITH A READER WHO MAKES CLAY ITEMS

OK this is sososos cute!! hope u enjoy!

MARI

MARI would be the type of person to enjoy creating things with clay, possibly because she thinks it helps with creativity and inspiration!

though she’s never really used clay before, she would LOVE to try it out! she’s probably be a teeny bit frustrated that she can’t perfect a model she’s trying to do, but hey, at least she’s learning!

when she finds out you actually make clay items like pottery, keychains, etc. she is absolutely IMPRESSED! she thinks they’re so adorable

she’ll maybe request for her own clay items and keep it in her room, she just loves you and your talent! she keeps all of the gifts you got her on her side of the room

MARI will absolutely love it if you also give these items to her best friends and especially her younger brother. she thinks SUNNY will like them because of how creative they are

she even offers to help you sell them to anyone passing by! with her natural charms, it’ll be a lot easier. she won’t need you to pay her, saying she only does it is because she loves you!

if she’s taking a break from the piano, she might take classes for stuff like pottery so she can give you her own work of art! it’s not as good as yours, but it’s impressive for a beginner like MARI!

she’d also like it if you taught her yourself! she says it’s because she should "get a real professional" to teach her, although you know she’s just teasing you a little bit, but she does find your work more prettier!

she could just be sitting right next to you, watching and observing how you mess with the clay before turning it into something special. she can even consider this a date!

out of all the days, this one had to be one which you were completely out of ideas for something new to make. messing with a clay for a bit, you try and think of a something new to give to your girlfriend MARI and her friends.

speaking of your friend, she’s currently sitting right next to you, shoulders touched, and watching her hands play around with the clay as you try to come up with something. you really wanted to impress her, even if you already did in her eyes.

"everything alright, [READER]? you’ve been playing with the clay for a while now, is that your secret?" MARI eventually spoke with a tease at the end of her words, killing the silence between you two. it startled you for a second but you regained yourself and answered, "well, i kinda do always play with it while thinking of something new to make.. but now my mind is straight up blank with nothing."

you groaned a bit in frustration, and MARI understood how you felt in a way. she decides to tease you to make you feel better, giving you a smug look before resting her head on your shoulder. "really now? is it because i’m here? because your amazing girlfriend is watching you and you wanna impress her with your awesomeness?"

"gah— MARI..!" a bit flustered from MARI’s teasing, you looks away from her with red cheeks. she technically wasn’t wrong, you were trying to think of something super creative to impress someone like your girlfriend. MARI laughed in satisfaction from watching you blush heavily.

"you know i’m just teasing, [READER], but i know you can do it! expand your mind!"

[in-brightestday]

I love you and I love your blog! I hope you have the most awesome of days and know how much you are appreciated! People are touched by your presence! You are a gift to this planet! Keep going, and stay strong! You are so valuable! May your positivity return to you in abundance! You are strong than you know! You can do, and conquer anything! Your beauty is infinite! All you desire is on its way! Things will work out, and in your favor! Each new day is a new chance to improve, grow, reflect and thrive. Believe in yourself! Know your worth! Own the incredible person you are! Be proud of yourself, who you are, and all your accomplishments! Smile lovely! You deserve nothing short of the absolute best! Have a wonderful day, and keep the positive energy going! Do something special for yourself! Even if it’s something someone else would see as insignificant. Pass the light, hope, love, and kindness onto others-even just giving a compliment, reaching out to another, a smile, a message, a note, anything! You are such a positive light, and to spread it is an inspiration! Thank you for everything love! Have a wonderful day!

Woooow idk what to say, if this is a bot 🤡 well thank you anyways LMAO, if not, wtf, I hope everything good in life for you and and I honestly don't know what to say. I'd liked this were not an anonymous message so I could know who are you pls hahahaa. Thank u again ✌️❤️

[ahogedetective]

"Comparison is the thief of joy...." Something about those words... hit him. Constantly being compared to Kyouko, including how often he does it, himself: while he knew it didn't exactly make him feel good whenever he was compared to her in a bad way... he didn't realize just how unhappy it really does make him feel. He admires Kyouko greatly, strives to be even just half 'as good' as her. To never become a disappointment in her eyes, never do anything to make her embarrassed that she shares a title with him; it partly helps to give him the motivation to continue improving himself, but it still could be harmful to his confidence at times, too.... Though what she said next- "Ah....?" Makes him look back up at her in shock. "My... gifts? What I have to offer...?" ("But what do I have to offer? I mean all I'm really good at is solving small cases... no: she's saying don't do that. Don't lose... sight of that...!") "...I... think I needed to hear that. A lot. I... always struggle to realize that... even if I'm not a veteran detective... I-I still... can help, and do help, people. That.. I can say that I'm proud of myself for. So... I won't forget it. And I'll keep reminding myself of that: thank you, Sonia-senpai. You're always so kind and encouraging to me. I appreciate it a lot."

"Y-Yeah, but you still have been very helpful! I'm really happy we're friends: oh, then I'm glad you was able to find inspiration for that idea! Hehe, your country has very great taste in books, as expected. Me too... it's always really exciting to read about. B-But wow... me, in Interpol... you think even I could possibly do that? Eheh.. i-it certainly would be nice... I would love to become that great of a detective in the future...!" And will, he says to himself; will become that great of a detective, that will have the confidence to handle cases of such global scales.

His demeanor brightens considerably, and gives a determined nod. "Yes, I will definitely consider all the different options you've helped present me with. No matter what, I... I'll pass. I'll prove that they were in recruiting me as a second Ultimate Detective...! U-Um, not to get in over my head or anything, of course." He bashfully giggles while rubbing the back of his head. But he really did feel the anxiousness from before wash away. It was a great feeling... and one he hopes to continue to have, until he takes the real thing.

"Y-Yes, I'll try: but wow... that really is crazy... I can only imagine the amount of unforgettable memories you've made throughout the years here with your classmates." Seeing her laugh fondly as she recalls the memory, can't help but make him chortle from how bizarre it all was. But that was one of the things about Sonia he liked; how kind, yet fondly strange she is at times. And as she tells him how she doesn't go crazy, but rather, cherishes the friends she made in her class... can't help but make his smile warm. "I see.... then, I'm happy for you, that you could come to this school, instead. I'm sure that the others... consider you just as much of a great friend, and are just as happy to have met you, too. And honestly? I get it: my classmates are definitely not normal, ahaha, but... I wouldn't have them any other way, too. Yeah... becoming friends that care for and see each other as the person they are, and not solely as their talent... is always the best feeling. I truly am happy you could find people like your friends, who see you for you, too...."

The small head tilt he gives when she pauses like that aside, now it helped him understand more how she didn't see some of the chaotic moments that happened with her classmates with disdain. Memories to be able to look back on and laugh over: those were the kind of memories, that Shuichi wants to make with his classmates and friends until the very end. "That's the best way to go about it, yeah... at a school as unique as this. Ahh... yeah: for as long as you can until you graduate, continue to do so. And, even after you graduate, I'm sure that you will still stay close by your friends, and continue to make more special memories with them. Yeah! Oh, it really is: one of my favorite things to do on my free days. To just... be able to bask in peace and quite like that, while you do your own thing and enjoying something nice... I hope you will always be able to do so with no worries, senpai."

But she did: surely Sonia could've shown more tact somehow when explaining to him the reality of his situation. Not only was it a kindness, it was a skill she should be developing as the future Queen of Novoselic. Yet as she watched his expression change as he spoke of Kyoko Kirigiri, her heart went out to him. She couldn't imagine it was easy, feeling as if he were living in his senpai's shadow. Sonia pursed her lips, thinking of the right words to say: as often as she got popular phrases wrong, she didn't want to mess up this time in front of Shuichi.

"It is a former American president, I believe, who first said 'comparison is the thief of joy,'" She finally offered, giving him a small smile. She wanted to sigh in relief: that sounded right, but letting him in on how hard she'd needed to work at translating the phrase correctly in her head was not something she wanted to be congratulated upon. "It is not wrong to look to Kirigiri-san to motivate you, but do not let a constant comparison of her skills and successes put a damper on your own. You may be here under the same talent, Saihara-san, but your gifts are unique. Do not lose sight of that, and what you have to offer the world."

At least her idea had gone over well. All he needed was to show how he stood out. Admittedly, her proposition was more commonly found in the pages of a book than in real life, but surely many police stations encountered troublesome theft cases in need of solving. "Oh, you need not thank me!" She insisted, gently waving off his gratitude. "Our friendship is thanks enough. But if you must thank someone, then thank Maurice LeBlanc. It is from his Arsene Lupin novels that I got the idea, and of course, the character's grandson Lupin the Third. Both are popular in Novoselic! I like the idea of a Gentleman Thief, as well as dedicated detectives in Interpol trying to catch him. Perhaps you may join Interpol one day, Saihara-san."

It was one option, and she believed in him that much that he would stand out amongst his contemporaries and be allowed to work international cases of great importance. Maybe that was a better use of time, she thought, as she closed the planning notebook that Miss Yukizome had advised all Class 77 students use to keep track of their mentee's progress. Sometimes it wasn't the exact steps he needed to complete: maybe they just needed to dream a little. Remind themselves why they accepted the role of Ultimate in the first place. "That is only one option, of course: I am sure you will choose the right path for you. And you can learn from my class's missteps, too: but yes, one of Kimura-san's elixirs turned out to be responsible for Gundham's dog becoming giant!" She laughed, the dog and the gym blowing up both being fond memories for her. Something Shuichi, it seemed, could not understand.

Sonia sighed, her laughter subsiding into giggles as she folded her hands atop her notebook. "I do not 'go crazy,' as you put it, because I am so very thankful that I am in Class 77-B. I think my sanity would have been tested if I had remained at In Utero Academy." It was likely a difficult pill to swallow, eschewing her luxurious private school in Novoselic, where lunch was designed by a Michelin-starred chef and students had a variety of extracurricular activities at their disposal, in favor of traveling half a world away to Hope's Peak. But she wouldn't have traded it for the world. "They are my beloved friends. We all see each other, understand each other, for who we are and not what our talents are. Mostly," She paused. She wanted to believe that was true for all of her classmates but Kazuichi Souda often gave her reason to second-guess it. His worn-out praises of her still encompassed what he'd been espousing since their first year: that she was the pinnacle of beauty, grace, and perfection, exactly what a princess should be. Or at least the vision of a princess he'd conjured in his head from a variety of unreliable sources.

"Life is unpredictable at times here, but I embrace it," She murmured. "I shall miss it when it is gone. But! In the meantime, I endeavor to spend every moment relishing in a normal life. With normal places to 'hang out,' like cafes and shops! It is exhilarating you know, to order a hot drink and sit in a corner with your computer and a book and no one finds reason to gawk at you."

[angelprinz]

hello im back with more brainrot (and thank u dove anon im glad ur liking these silly little ideas huhu)

this one has been stewing in my head since yesterday:

office worker au wherein ur about to be laid off from ur current job and u begin to cry about it to ur good friend albedo. he tells u that he'll see what he can do and the next day he tells u the good news u wanted to hear, that he found u a job opening. he has the contract and everything ready and warns u that it's a well sought out job, that if u don't sign up right now, someone else will take it immediately (and poor old u will be jobless)

that makes u panic and u don't go over the contract with as much scrutiny as ur used too (if this is familiar it's because it's also highkey inspired by ur albedo fic huhu) he congratulates u for ur new job and told u to go over the office tomorrow.

u find out, the next day, that albedo snagged u a secretarial position and ur job truly is a dream job that many would want! ur boss are competent, u barely need to do anything (except for the occasional over time which u were allowed to sleep in work anyway), and ur generously paid with extra gifts as well! ur not quite sure how they found out about the sizes of ur underwear and bra but u chalk it up to coincidence.

one over time, ur bosses were swamped with work and meetings so ur forced to stay behind with them. albedo isn't there with u too, so u can't even drink some of his brews. when they finally all arrive back at the office, u stand at attention at what they need u to do.

one of them goes up to u and forces u onto their lap and their hands begin groping ur body. u don't know what to do, shocked with whatever they're doing, so u squirm a bit which leads into him smacking ur ass. the others begin to unbuckle their belts and slowly, u realize that there is more to this job than what u expect.

"so ur awake for this one? excellent. it's time to see how well u do ur job in this state, slut."

ur helpless as ur passed around and done over at the same time, until all u could do was moan and shake from their touches. the next morning, ur dynamics with them change drastically.

they would boldly smack ur ass, grope u in the elevator, make u cockwarm and suck them off all during busy hours. one time albedo even caught u in the middle of being pounded by one of them on top of their desk.

albedo knew from the beginning and was drugging u during the late hours with his brews. u slept through most of ur "true job" from before until they told albedo to finally let u know what u have been doing to finance urself.

(bosses recommendation: diluc, childe, ayato, zhongli)

- somno anon

AWWWWW being the office toy!!! all day you're helping them destress, even as they're on calls or meetings! you're their plaything so cute! does albedo ever take reader??? i hope he does, after all he introduced them to the job! kiths your cheekies anonnine, you're feeding me so much good icky stuff!

[sashi-ya]

Christmas event :D

Rosinate x reader chocolate

Reader where she's just cooking with little law while waiting for Rosi to arrive from his marine duty and then do Christmas stuff and sitting and cuddling in the fire place while drinking hot choco( OMG this is so cute just thinking Abt it 😭❤️ ) and then in the morning Rosi tells law to open his gifts in the Christmas tree and holy shit imagine the kids adorable smile ❤️😭🥰

Thank you for doing this <33

My darling you made me the happiest person alive by requesting this. My perfect life would definitely look like this if I ever got the chance to ask for something. THANK U for requesting this, thank u so much. I hope you enjoy!!! Happy Holidays! 💖

Chocolate

Rosinante x Gn! Reader ft. Little Law

Day 10: Our First Christmas Together ~

tw: none. excess of cuteness. Law is 7 y/o as always when I wrote for him as a child.

a/n: the notebook is inspired on the canon fact that Law drew himself his jolly roger while living at Mr. Wolff's. (You can read the novel here) (yeah I draw them to look like crayons and let's pretend that's Law's handwriting pls hahaha)

wc: 1333

White spots cover little Law's face…

This time is not from the amber lead, but from some powdery sugar.

Sickness turned into sweetness. Rosinante and you, Law’s beloved protectors. Law’s second chance in life, Law’s first Christmas with Cora and you.

He is standing on his special yellow booster to reach for the kitchen countertop, and both you and him, are baking some gingerbread men. It was surprising Law liked them, since he doesn’t like anything bread related, apparently cookies were an exception.

“How do you want to decorate them, Law?” you ask, searching for some sprinkles and chocolate melts. “Uhm, I think I want to add a smiling face. Let me show you, I’ve made a few drawings…” the little bean of joy says and runs up to his room.

“Law! you are gonna get sugar all ov…. Never mind”

Law is as methodical as a grown up, but still a kiddo. There is no way you could scold him, he wants to show you something he drew, you will have time to clean afterwards. Plus this is your first Christmas together…

The tanned skin, crystalline grey eyes, cute kiddo shows you some designs out of a yellow notebook.

“Law!! How pretty!!” you joyfully tell him, because they are indeed really cute. “Do you think Cora would like them? They are inspired by…” he stops himself; a light dust of crimson invades his cheeks. “Are they inspired by daddy's smile? I can see it clearly! He would love them. I tell you what, prepare the page because he will surely want them in his office” you tell him, cleaning some of the sugar off his nose.

Law’s smile widens, and his eyes shine with a special sparkle. He is well aware, despite being so young, how Rosinante’s actions have allowed him to keep on living. Law sees him as the representation of life. And you, you too. There are no gray clouds that could opaque the sunlight of Cora’s smile. He is your sun, Law’s sun.

“Let’s finish them before he is home!” he says, rolling up his sleeves. “Sure! Plus we need to do some more for Santa tonight”. Law gives you a side look, he is at that age some of his friends tell them Santa doesn’t exist but he still wanna believe he does. In any case, Rosi and you have decided to keep with the “lie” as long as he tells you to stop. A little bit of fantasy and magic never hurt anybody, right?.

Law managed to create a special bowl with milk for Santa, that he left next to the tree for the old guy to indulge after leaving the presents. He didn’t ask for anything, Law indeed never does, but he will get many presents this year…

Both of you get so into the decoration of the cookies and preparing the dinner table you don’t realize the time passes by faster than expected. Soon, a huge thump could be heard outside the house.

“DADDY'S HOME!”

Law seems more excited than ever, he even forgot about his characteristic “bad mood” and it’s jumping all over the place -until he notices you are looking at him- but even though, it’s always heartwarming to see him so happy.

Rosinante shakes the snow off his shoulders and hangs his white Marine cape. The shift at the base is over, and the night is settled to have a wonderful warm Christmas family dinner. Law runs to Cora’s arms, being lifted by him (almost hitting the kiddo’s head against the ceiling).

“Hello, my dear husband~” you purr, smiling at the sweetest image of him holding your little ray of sun. Rosi comes closer and kisses your lips softly and lovingly, while Law is crushed against you two since he has them on arms.

“AHHHHH” Law shouts. “A sandwich of loveee!!! Law, you are being trapped by the love bread!!!” you shout, snuggling him with pure love and sweetness. You all laugh at Law’s cheeks being squeezed and after that you head to the dining room.

Christmas decorations, delicious food Law helped you to prepare and arrange, and carols playing (Law was against playing them, but still). Rosi and you enjoy the delicious food, while listening to Law speak about the new operation the read of. You are not disgusted of course, but Rosi, who is absolutely grossed out by blood, tries to endure through the details of the procedure Law is commenting on.

You suggest for them to go sit next to the fireplace to have some cocoa and cookies. Law fidgets on his seat because he knows those are gonna be his cookies. The bean is anxious to show Cora his creation, and to see if he notices.

You were absolutely sure he would notice, but you decided to send him a message earlier just to tell him…

You > Love, your son is making you cookies. He drew the designs himself and are inspired by your smile. I’m sure you will notice, but just in case. Oh, did you get the Sora figure?” Hubby ❤> Oh I’m gonna hug him so tight, you have no idea!” Hubby ❤ > 📎sent an attachment:

Hubby ❤ > And I did, it’s on the trunk well packed with yellow paper 🙊

You three chose to wear the special pajamas you bought. “Mx. Noel”, “Mr. Noel” & “Little Santa Helper” embroidered on the front of them. Pillows scattered in front of the fireplace with the three boots hanging from it, of course.

“So, here are the stars of the night, Law's sweetest creation, smiling cookies!” you cheer bringing three cups of cocoa, escorted by the kiddo bringing a batch with the cookies. Rosinante, of course, sitting on the floor -because he was banned from moving, just to avoid any unwanted accidents-.

Cora starts screaming, scaring Law with the shouts and the excitement, but making him laugh shortly after. “Excuse me little guy… that’s my…?” he asks, ready to attack Law with a million kisses. “UH… YOUR SMILE” he says, up and straightforward, hiding under his hat after because of the intense embarrassment.

But the hat didn’t last longer over his black spiky hair, because his dad had already knocked it off in a kisses and hugs attack. “AHHH DAD!!!” Law shouts, while you watch the fight next to you, and there is nothing else you could ever ask in your whole life. You were the richest person in the whole world.

After some story reading, you sitting in between Cora’s legs and Law sitting in between yours, drinking hot chocolate and enjoying the lovely cookies, Law finally fell asleep. “Oh he is asleep” you whisper to your hubby. “Right, let’s take him to his bed”

Rosi and you carry the little bean to his bed, tucking him and kissing his forehead goodnight. “Sleep tight, son” Cora whispers, and you, on tippy toes, reach for his cheek to kiss him. “What a wonderful dad you are, babe”.

Before going to sleep you two enjoyed the cookies and milk “for Santa” and arranged the presents all around the tree. Rosi also used a little bit of flour to simulate Santa’s snowy boots footprints.

Cora wasn’t able to sleep until no more than 6 am on Christmas day. He was so excited he had to go and wake up Law to go see the gifts. And of course, cause “like father, like son” (even if they weren’t connected by blood) the two of them go downstairs running.

You, still with a sleepy face and messy hair, used your den den mushi to record the reaction. Law was on the verge of crying while opening his gifts. Tears of joy. He isn’t a consumerist child; he didn’t even ask for a gift in his letter to Santa. But the love he received was, for him, the most precious gift he could ever have gotten.

Oh, and the Sora figure.

He even slept with it for many many years. 💖~

[nochuvalencia]

𝐁 𝐁 𝐇 𝐌 𝐌 - jjk

I was basically inspired by these ^^^ pics of jk bc wow hot hi

⚠️ ALSO QUICK DISCLAIMER :: this is my first fanfic on here so it might be terrible but enjoy anyway. ⚠️

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 :: reader x crimeboss!jk

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮��𝘳𝘺 :: bitch you better have his money.

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 :: ABSOLUTE SMUTTY FILTH heh angst too ig

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 :: 11.9k

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 :: long haired tatted jk, that’s it, that’s the warning, uh kinda sketchy plot hsjsjsj, WOW ANGST ASF at the beginning tho, dub!con towards the middle don’t hurt me, fuck or die ig, gunplay????? yeah????? jks BLATANT OVERUSE of pet names, dacryphillia, major-ish character death, describing the injuries on a dead body, jk has a sir kink ig??? um excessive over exaggerated choking bc jks hands yum, explicit seggs, rough jk, he’s kinda mean, dom!jk, sub!reader, oral m&f receiving (facefucking on both ends), coochie sniff if you squint, coochie slaps if u squint too, spanking, OVERSTIMULATION, unprotected seggs, degradation, he calls her a bitch once idk, other bad names, praise too ig, jk gives an ultimatum, SLIGHT aftercare, he kinda like switches from flirty to murderous like a bunch of times it’s kinda weird, jk has an impossibly huge shlong obv, contemplating death, super mature themes, reader is a BIG fucking crybaby, overuse of the word fuck, corruption kink at the end if u squint super hard, also DUB!CON in case you didn’t see it, at this point I should just write what it doesn’t have

“If you’re not out of my house in 3.4 seconds, I'm dragging you out by the testicles” you uttered, your alarmingly calm voice laced with raw brutality as hot tears cascaded down your burning cheeks, your arm outstretched and pointed toward the blinding light of the hallway that contrasted with your dark bedroom. You said nothing more, with your eyes trained angrily at one of the four blank tan walls nearby, not possibly being able to bear speaking to or sparing a glance into the eyes of a cheating whore. The woman you had just caught him with scurried past you wearily, a terrified and confused glint in her eyes as she passed your frigid frame sans underwear, with her sparkly silver pumps dangling from her fingers and a wrinkly silver dress hanging limply from the clutches of her other hand. The man in question shuffled cautiously around the bed, clutching the exposed parts of his body and approaching you with extreme hesitation and outstretched hands, as if trying to calm the already blazing flames of your fury. He laid a cold, rough hand on your shoulder squeezing softly, a motion that once brought you comfort but only added the all consuming hatred that bubbled up inside you akin to ravenous bile filling up the pit of your belly. “Did you not hear what I said? Get out.” You spat, glossy eyes still pointed toward anything but him.

“____ please” he croaked, like the slimy frog he truly was, his voice dripping in false agony which only neared you closer to the brink of undoubtedly committing an act of extreme violence against that man. “Please baby it wasn’t-'' you blanked. He was about to make an excuse. A stupid, rediculous, horrible, completely false excuse which you had absolutely no patience to hear. So you snapped, harshly shrugging your shoulder and sending his arm flying back to his side. He stepped back, ceasing his incessant chatter as he stared at you, a surprised expression painting his “pained” features. He wasn’t accustomed to you acting like this, you were never one to raise your voice or act out in any sort of way so he stood there, eyes widened in dumbfounded silence and you took this chance, bending down, scooping up as much of his discarded clothing as you possibly could and throwing it in his face, your rage bubbling over into something much more carnal as you inhaled deeply through your nose.

“Shut the fuck up and leave!” He scrambled to catch as many clothes as he could and was taken aback by your abrupt outburst. He stood silent once again though this time, he was making the face he often made when forcing himself to cry. It was the face he made around his mother to get out of family responsibilities. The face he made around his friends when guilt tripping them into buying him drinks, and now he's using it for you. To guilt you into taking pity on his pathetic actions which merely was the catalyst for your unforgiving violence. In an instant you were behind him, heaving him out of the door with your bare hands, pushing with all your might, using the immense pain coursing through your limbs as motivation to drive his beefy frame further and further out of the bedroom, down the hallway, into the living room and closer to the door yelling “I said leave! Leave! Now!” Pushing harder and harder with every word you choked out. The tears began to flow faster, clouding and distorting your vision as your face contorted into an expression of pure anguish until finally, he was forced out of the open doorway and into the main hallway of your apartment building. You promptly slammed the door in his face and the only thought traveling though your mind was ‘thank god she left that door open’ because you wouldn’t have been able to force him through it otherwise.

You stood silently for a few seconds, back to the door, face still slick with tears as the cool wood on your back shook senselessly with every beat of his fist and muffled shout of his voice crying phrases like “____ open the fuking door!” , “this is my apartment too baby come on” and other variations of the sort. Your mind was empty while you remained there, letting the harsh reality sink in like the slowest molasses. You allowed that man, that pig, to take 10 years of your life. 10 years of your prime. 10 years that you'll never get back no matter how much you beg and plead for it. Come to think of it, you had shaped your entire life around him. His influence was there no matter how much you wished it wasn’t. His residue staining your life like the blackest ink of which you would never be able to rid yourself. At the surfacing of these thoughts, you’d finally broke down and cried, like ugly cried. Broken heaves and sobs escaped your throat until you felt like you were suffocating as you slid down the door, not caring if he heard your wails and whines of torment on the other side of the polished mahogany. You actually hoped he did hear, you wanted him to hear the anguish and grief he put you through. You wanted him to hear you cry out all of your attachment and love for him until there was none left, so he knows the tears flowing from your body hold all of the affection you harbor for him. All ten years of attraction flowing out in a gigantic tsunami of grief that can only end in a new start.

Your mind played through all the memories, and the small amount of good times you had with each other while you sobbed mercilessly, also coming to the realization that he never did anything for you. Ever since you were 14 you’d been changing everything about yourself for him, while he merely lived his life, dragging you along like a supportive little puppy and rewarding you with cheap token gifts and mediocre sex once in a blue moon.

He wanted to attend university in your hometown so you abandoned your dream school, which accepted you, to attend a closer college. He made the decision to study abroad, so you had to drop everything and move to Australia for him. He wanted to wait to have kids so you froze your fucking eggs for him. He got a great new job at a large company in Asia, so you dropped everything again and moved to South Korea. You learned Korean for him. You have the same friends as him. You even cut a few family members off because he was “uncomfy” around them. He wouldn’t even go down on you because it also made him ‘uncomfy’, which should’ve been a red flag from the start. You did all of this bullshit in the haze of love. The promise that he’d reciprocate all of it in affection and adoration, which he didn’t, and now you’re sitting in your living room bawling your brains out because you were too lovestruck to see the signs.

After sobbing hysterically for what seemed like hours, you’d sat limply in front of your door, slouching back onto it as if it were a plush armchair and staring blankly into space, your mind completely empty. Feeling overwhelmed and exhausted beyond belief, you leaned forward, groaning in anguish as your tired muscles cried out in distress after being immobile for more than four hours. Crawling over to the couch, you tiredly flung your nearly paralyzed body onto the soft cushions with a sigh, not even bothering to pull the fluffy throw blanket over your body as your entire frame began to steadily shut down. Before your eyes completely shut, you caught a glimpse of the clock perched on the wooden tv stand which read 11:11 and scoffing quietly as you thought to yourself, ‘I thought that was supposed to mean good luck’ and you gave in to the delicious expanse of slumber.

You were startled awake by the incessant pounding of your now ex-boyfriends fist on the door, again. For the past 4 days since you’d forced him out, he’d show up outside your door at the ass crack of dawn just banging on the door profusely, as if that would persuade you to open it an inch. He had a schedule, he’d come at 5am, before he went off to work, then at 12:30 on his lunch break, then again at 9:45 just to make you miserable before you went to bed. You’re actually surprised the neighbors haven’t complained to the landlords yet. You tossed the blanket off of your sticky body, kicking and thrashing wildly due to the annoyance caused by that nuisance.

You cried more times than you can count during these last 4 days, especially during the times he would attempt to win you over with sappy shit like “baby, you’re my everything, you’re all i’ve ever wanted”, the lyrics to one of your favorite songs or, “you’re my forever ____, you can’t just throw 10 years away babe” to which you cried about for 3 hours after he’d said it, after realizing that he actually wasted 10 fucking years of your life. Anger bubbled up in the pit of your stomach as you listened to the repetitive banging of his fist and at this point you had enough and came to the decision it was finally time to pack his shit. Stomping into the living room, you grabbed a necessary box of bags that sat on the coffee table in the center of the room, figuring you were ready to use it. With a final nod of your head, you marched into your shared bedroom and opened all of the cabinets and drawers that contained the plethora of his belongings and flinging them on the floor, grabbing the box of xl trash bags you’d snagged on your march in here and started tossing things in left and right, not caring about the brand name or the state of the fabric or anything for that matter. All you saw was red as your eyes welled up with tears for the first and probably not last time that day.

“I can’t do this” you sobbed out, voice hoarse as you fell to your knees, ignoring the rugburn that was soon to form on those areas as your shoulders shook with every harsh breath you took. You had been dreading this task. Dreading it only for its significance that once you packed all his things and tossed them out, your relationship would be truly over. You definitely didn’t want him back but this would be the first time you’ve been alone in 10+ years and you were not certain you were prepared for that let alone wanting it. Inhaling shakily, you sniffed, ridding your face of any moisture as you cleared your throat and walked back into the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of chardonnay from your anniversary that fell on the week prior and venturing back into the closet to resume your task. You weren’t much of a drinker but for this task, you’d need a bottle or two.

A few hours later, he’d finally went off to work and you sat in the doorway of the closet, drunkenly dressed in the wedding gown you were made to be wed in this summer still combing through all of his clothing and tossing them messily into a bag that laid open on the floor beside you. You took a swig from the bottle, hissing softly at the satisfying burn that seared it’s way down your throat and rubbing at your puffy eyes with the knuckle of your index finger. The closet was mostly bare, except for a rack with some of his clothes and one rack of semi-expensive clothing his cheap ass reluctantly purchased for you and you glanced around, catching a glimpse of some ugly floral fabric in the corner of the small space. Getting on your hands and knees you reached a limp hand out, taking hold of the horrendous fabric and dragging it out with a groan, eyes wide at the surprising heft of the object in your hand.

It was a pillowcase. A pillowcase full of something brick shaped. You raised an eyebrow quizzically before reaching into the bag and pulling out a fat stack of cash. Taking a sharp intake of breath you paused, staring blankly at the wrapped wad in your hand and cocking your head to the side. You peeked over into the bag after a few minutes, eyes popping out of your skull as they feasted on more huge stacks of money. It was Korean currency but there had to be at least 250k USD worth in the entire sack. You furrowed your brows, tossing the money back into the pillowcase forcefully as a tornado of thoughts whirled in your mind. Had he been saving behind your back? Was he planning on getting rich then eventually hanging you out to dry for some younger girl? How long has he had all of this? Where the fuck did it all come from?

You looked back at the money then back at the corner you found it in, squinting as you spotted some more ugly purple fabric. Crawling behind the clothing earnestly, you managed to fish out 4 more pillowcases full of money. You stifled a laugh, having never been in the presence of so much currency, you guessed it had to be more than 1 million dollars. You smiled for the first time in 4 days, lips curling up into a wide joy filled expression as you dumped all of the money onto the rugged floor of the closet. With all of the alcohol coursing through your veins, (almost a whole bottle) you didn’t hesitate to grab the biggest tote bag you own and stuff as much money as it could hold inside. You figured it was the least he could do after cheating on you.

He deserved to pay, and you obviously deserved a raise.

It was a full on shopping spree. After throwing all of his shit into bags, you tossed them outside your door and left with as much money as you could carry before he could come back on his lunch break. You even came back to get some more money, just to go out and spend it again. To say you splurged would be an understatement, you spent almost half of the money on clothes, shoes, a hair and makeup appointment, a manicure, a new car, and you even paid rent for six months after taking his name off the lease.

So here you were, struggling up the stairs as quick as you could, due to the fact that it was 9:30 and you were trying to avoid seeing him at his 9:45 visit. Your feet screamed in agony in your new jimmy choo pumps, because you’d been on them all day, and you had at least six shopping bags hanging from each arm, all full with an assortment of gaudy items such as shoe boxes, makeup products, and clothing. You had finally reached the door after a while, smiling at the absence of his bags which meant he took them and swiftly unlocked the door, clamoring in and tiredly dropping the bags in your hands. With a sigh, you locked the door, running a hand through your freshly styled hair as you rid your face of the designer sunglasses that shielded it. Kicking off your shoes, you hummed gratifyingly at the pleasurable feeling of bare feet and shuffled over to your couch, plopping down on the end cushion groggily.

A soft buzz in your back pocket caught your attention as you carefully fished out the new phone you purchased and unlocked it with your perfectly manicured fingers, raising an eyebrow quizzically as the texts rolled in, ‘i thought i blocked him’ you thought, preparing to do it a second time before a few texts caught your attention and you froze on the spot, chuckling heartlessly at his words.

+82 2 2263 5950 : whose car is in our parking spot?

+82 2 2263 5950 : did you already move on?

+82 2 2263 5950 : wow whore

You rolled your eyes, wondering where he attained the gaul to accuse you of a feat such as that. Calling you a whore as if that name isn’t suitable for himself. Even more so than you. You decided to text him back, feeding off of an unknown source of confidence as your fingers furiously tapped along the screen.

me : it’s my car asshole

me : bought it with the money u left me

me :thx baby <3

+82 2 2263 5950 : what money?

me : the money in the closet you didn’t bother telling me abt u dumb fuck

+82 2 2263 5950 : don’t use that money

me : why should i listen to you?

me : you aren’t my bf

+82 2 2263 5950 : no seriously ____ don’t use that money wtf is wrong with u

me : already did bye babe

You blocked him as quickly as you could, face burning with absolute anger as you tossed your phone on the cushion beside you. Who is he to tell you what you could or couldn’t do? You had come to the decision then and there that you wouldn't let him treat you like a child. He wasn’t your dad. Thanks to him you barely speak to your dad. The only thought going through your mind at the time was ‘fuck him.’ Before you could delve into your thoughts any further, it started. His incessant pounding on the door. Again. Although, this time it was much more frantic, desperate. He was much louder with his pathetic pleas and whines, crying out “please don’t use that money!”, “Listen to me god damn it!”, “___ open the fucking door now!” But you stood your ground, ignoring him once again as you did for the past few days.

Just to escape the racket of his wails of desperation, you retreated to your room, slipping on one of his expensive balenciaga sweatshirts you kept for yourself and climbing into the cool blankets, burying yourself under the plush fabric and folding your pillow over your ears. You knew this would be the longest night of your life..

And you were correct, It was the longest night of your life. He never truly got the memo that you would not be coming out to communicate with him so he finally left at around 1:30 in the morning. You had slept horribly, tossing and turning as the aftermath of his cries and pleads left a print on your mind and tormented you at all hours of the night, you didn’t manage to get any real sleep until around eight and woke up a mere five hours later in a state of confusion. It was well past noon and yet it was silent, you had woken up of your own volition, not because of some crazy man outside of your apartment screaming like a banshee. In due time, you had come to the conclusion that he had finally given up and gone about his day without banging on his ex-girlfriend's apartment door like an idiot at all hours of the day.

This theory was almost set in your mind until you heard a knock. Groaning violently, you stared up at your ceiling, eyebrows furrowed as you erased that theory from the whiteboard in your cortex. Fully prepared to ignore the person at the door, you rolled over to your side until another knock was heard. This wasn’t him. This couldn’t be him. The knocks were way too soft, they lacked an element of urgency, desperation. They were simply just way too calm. So, you sat up, swinging your legs over and reluctantly standing up, before making your way into the living room to be greeted with another knock and a smooth male voice calling out. “Miss ___ ___?”

You glanced wearily though your peep hole to be met with a tall male, dressed in a blue and white uniform. “Looks like a cop. He called the fucking cops on me, shit.” you whispered to yourself, voice small as you held onto the door handle. Figuring it’d be worse to make him wait, you opened the door, being met with the warm, dimpled smile, of the decorated individual. “Yes, i”m ____” you respond, shoving your hands into the pockets of your sweatshirt and looking everywhere but him, which probably seems more suspicious than anything but you were too riddled with anxiety to care. The officer clutched a navy blue manilla folder in his hand and opened it promptly in order to sift through its contents.

“Hi, i’m officer Kim.” he breathed out, calmly bowing and resuming his apparent spiel, “do you know this man?” he pondered, raising an eyebrow quizzically as he pulled a photo from his folder with calloused fingers and lifted it, spinning it around to face you. Your eyes widened slightly upon being shown a picture of your ex and you nodded hesitantly.

“He’s my ex boyfriend- well ex fiance I guess.” you responded, voice barely audible as your mind raced faster than the speed of sound. You asked yourself what he could’ve done that was bad enough for the police to show up at your door. Maybe you had been too harsh on him and he had gotten into one to many bar fights, maybe he robbed a bank at gunpoint, maybe he stole some old lady’s car and filled it with off brand mayonnaise before he returned it. All your questions- all your thoughts stopped as Officer Kim responded, running a tired hand through his hair.

“He passed, earlier today.” he paused, giving you time to digest things and you froze, staring at his face blankly as your mind processed what you had just been told and you hummed questioningly, your throat becoming tight with realization. “It happened around five this morning,” he paused again as you stood in complete silence. Sure you hated him but you’d never wish death upon another person, especially him. You hate him now but you were in love with him once too. You hate him now but, he was the closest person in your life. He was all of your firsts, your fiance, your best friend. You thought you wouldn’t be able to get all of that back because of the breakup but now you truly can never get any of it back, because he’s dead. Then, you started to cry, for the hundredth time this week but this one was different. You weren’t crying because you missed him, or wanted him to come back like all the other times, as horrible as it sounds. You were crying because you felt bad. Because of his short life that was ripped from him by the unforgiving hand of death. You weren’t crying because of him, you were crying for him. A hand on your shoulder interrupted your sobs and you wiped your face, glancing up at the culprit with glassy eyes. “I’m so sorry for your loss...” he paused, giving you a few moments to breathe as he rubbed your shoulder comfortingly before speaking again, “but we have an idea of who did it, it would be helpful if you just came down to the station with me for some questioning.” he asked softly as the shaking sobs and whimpers that came from your body slowed to a halt and you nodded.

“Yeah, uh. Let me just go get dressed.” You muttered, smiling up at him softly and shuffling back to your room to prepare. The longest night of your life was about to turn into the longest day.

And you were correct again as you stood in front of your apartment door after the absolute, and I cannot stress this enough, longest day of your life. Your ex was murdered, brutally, and they made sure to go over all of the gory details with you while you were at the precinct, they even took you to see his body, which made you cry because it was mangled almost beyond recognition and you were horrified. Apparently, he had been tortured for hours, which explained all the bruises, gashes, and burn marks on his body, strangled, thus the huge ring shaped mark around his neck, and dumped into a river, which made his body all pruny and wrinkled. You had spent 10 long hours at the police precinct and it was now nearing midnight as you fished your keys from your pocket in order to unlock the door. Inserting your key, you jiggle it around in the lock for a minute before realizing it was already unlocked initially. Figuring you had left it unlocked accidentally in your depressed haze, you pushed your way into your apartment and locked it promptly, pressing your forehead into the cool wood of the door. You sighed softly, relaxing only for a minute as you absorbed your surroundings before freezing as you heard the rhythmic tapping of someone's foot.

“Long day huh?” the voice was deep, one you hadn’t heard before as you remained facing the door, your grip of the handle tightening until your knuckles turned white. He spoke again, “you must be ____.” he murmured softly, sending a terrified shudder down your spine. “I’ve been wanting to meet you but he said you were off limits. You know, he talks about you a lot-...” he stopped himself as if realizing something, “well talked, I mean.” the man mused, an ominous chuckle flowing from his mouth.

“Who are you?” you rasped, attempting to conceal any cowardice but blinking your eyes harshly as your voice broke. You vaguely hoped this was one of your ex’s friends coming to visit, at an odd hour of the night, sitting ominously in the dark of your apartment waiting for you to come home just to say hi but the chances of that actuality was very slim.

“None of your business” the man retorted, a smirk evident in his ominous tone. “Now, let’s get down to business little dove,” you furrowed your brows at the nickname. You had never been called a nickname, especially by a man who randomly just snuck into your apartment one night. Your ex only ever called you baby or babe so little dove was different for you. It seemed endearing in the worst type of way. “I want the rest of my money.” he paused, “I found half of it in a closet here, and he said you might know where the rest is.” he paused again, only this time a sound is heard, a metal rattling of some sort that ricochets off of the walls of the apartment like a stray jumping bean in a pill case. Then it hits you, he has a gun, and he just shook it as if he intends to use it. . “Don’t make me ask again sweetheart.” Your eyes widen and well up as your head falls down, knowing you're going to die today and you take a deep breath, telling yourself you’d be ready for whatever happens so you decide, if you’re gonna die, you should at least know the name of the man that’s gonna kill you so you scrape together every last drop of confidence you can muster and ask once more.

“I said, w-who are yo-” you choked out, in an attempt to hold onto the last shred of your dignity as you blinked back the tears threatening to fall from your glassy eyes. However, your small shred of confidence is promptly ripped from your grasp as the man cuts you off mid sentence, slamming his gun down onto a hard surface with a loud clatter. You jolt, crying out softly as the tears you’d been holding back with all your might fall onto the ground before you.

“I said none of your fucking business bitch where’s my fucking money.” he spat, his sinister tone draing a choked sob from your thoat as you realized, you wouldn’t be getting anything you wanted today. “Answer me” he said, alarmingly calm as the sound of him cocking his gun travels directly to your mind.

“I spent it” you muttered between your soft hiccups and stiffened slightly upon hearing a heavy footstep approach you, then another footstep, and another, and another until they cease, and you can feel the man's warm breath raising the hair on the back of your neck. All your readiness for whatever happens and willingness to die flies out of the window as you lean your head on the door once more, taking a shaky breath as you begin to plead, aware of how pathetic you sound and part of the reason why you have such a strong urge to cry harder. “Please don’t kill me” you whined desperately as you feel the cold metal of the gun barrel resting on your shoulder.

“Relax little dove” he whispered, his lips brushing the back of your ear and sending a chill rushing through the entire expanse of your body. “Just find a way to pay me back and we’re even,” he continued calmly, his raspy voice reverberating in your eardrums as you think through what he just said carefully. You gasp and sniffle, shaking your head softly and lifting it slowly from the wooden door frame.

“I-” you stopped, taking a deep breath and preparing yourself as much as you could for his response then opened your mouth to continue. “I don’t have that kind of money” you whispered hesitantly, shutting your eyes tightly, allowing nothing to escape but the numerous tears that fell to the ground in anticipation of his actions. There was an eerie silence as he contemplated your words before he abruptly turned away, lifting the gun from your shoulder and holstering it in the waistband of his jeans, causing you to let out a wavering breath you’d been holding that entire time. His hand traveled back up, taking refuge on your left shoulder as the other hand made its way up your right arm, the warmth setting your skin aflame and sending a shockwave of warmth coursing through your body.

“There is another way you could pay me back.” his velvet voice rasped, stressing the word ‘another’ in a way that you immediately understood his insinuation and you took a sharp intake of air, bracing yourself for what he was about to say next. But he didn’t say anything for a moment, letting his hands do the talking for him as he gripped your arms softly, using his hands to spin you around and face him. You whirled around, yelping in surprise but stopping when you were met with the most exquisite, carnivorous brown eyes you had ever seen in your life that were accompanied by full pink lips and a tousled bunch of fluffy black hair you just wanted to run your hands through. Even in the darkness of night, the moonlight streaming through the kitchen window illuminated the room enough for you to trail your eyes down his face and get a vivid idea of what he’d look like with illumination.

Yummy as fuck.

Your eyes began to wander down to his exposed collarbone and before they could travel any lower, his fingers roughly grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze upward until you met his borderline cannibalistic gaze, which crushed you into nothing. He cocked his head to the side, a mischievous glint in his eyes as the corner of his lips turn upward slightly. “He was always bragging about you… saying,” he speaks, his sultry tone lulling you into a state of compliance as he spoke, “you’re such a good fuck,” he continues, placing his left hand gently on your waist and stepping even closer, if that’s possible, his soft breath hitting your face with every word as he speaks. “Your sweet little cunt is so tight” he glances down at your lips, running his thumb over your bottom lip “your mouth feels like heaven” he pauses again, running his hand down to hold the side of your neck softly to which you gasp “maybe i’d like a demonstration little dove.” he smiles, a twisted horrifying smile that snaps you out of his seductive trance and back to reality as your eyes widen and you pull yourself quickly out of his hold, running over to the couch and bracing yourself on it.

“No” you cry out, out of breath for some reason as you swallow thickly and shake your head. “No, I'll find a way to pay you back, I promise.” you plead, praying he wasn’t going to kill you on the spot and that he hadn’t noticed your blatant ogling. He probably did but at this point you didn’t care, you just wanted him gone.

“Whatever you say sweetheart” he replied, emitting a dark chuckle “call me if you change your mind, my number’s in your phone” he opened the front door and you glanced back at him, noticing the way his all black attire contrasts with his tan skin, and most of all, you notice the full sleeve of tattoos that ran down his right arm. Heat crawled up to your face as you realized you were gawking again and you nodded in response, feeling unable to form the words to respond with. He only uttered the words “you have a week.” before the door slammed and you were left alone in the dark.

You ran your fingers along the side of your neck where the aftermath of his touch lingered like a searing residue. No one had ever touched you like that, especially your ex. He was the man that took your virginity and was the man there for every time after so you’d become accustomed to his textbook missionary vanilla sex that left you touch starved and unfinished every. single. time. But you’d finish yourself off each time, feeling bad because you thought he was trying his hardest and truly didn’t understand how to please women. But as time went on, you realized he didn’t care about your pleasure and too enveloped in his own release to ever worry about your needs, but were too deep in love with him to care.

Your thoughts were interrupted when your phone went off to signal a text and upon picking it up there were two text messages from an unknown number that sent a shiver down your spine which read.

+82 2 5284 8735 : don’t try to run

+82 2 5284 8735 : we’ll hunt you down little dove

“Can’t you just take the shit back?” You questioned frantically, clutching the phone by your head until your knuckles turned white, rolling your eyes tiredly when you got no response. “They hung up, great” you deadpanned, plopping onto the couch you had been pacing in front of. It has been 6 days since the man showed up and you were running out of time and hadn’t slept in two days, your mind running frantically with the thought of him coming back to see you nearly empty handed. Well, not exactly empty handed. You had managed to get 253k of the whopping +400k dollars you had spent of his money and after not being able to return the car, manicure, hair appointment, rent, and a bunch of clothes and shoes, you were manic. Some might even say a bit crazy. Many of the stores and the dealership knew you by name because of the amount of times you called them. You dropped your phone into your lap, burying your face in your hands and wishing someone was here to console you through this but the only person you knew even remotely enough to offer any consolation was your ex. You wish he was alive so you could punch that bitch in the face and ask him what kind of shit he got himself into because the man that paid you a visit was most definitely not from corporate.

You sat for a silent minute deliberating if you should text the mystery man and take him up on his offer. You had asked yourself, is it really worth your life? Were you really going to die because you didn’t want to sleep with the hot guy you stole money from? The answer at first was yes because you still had your pride intact then but now, you had been starting to second guess your confidence in getting all the money back. After all, the deadline is tomorrow. You still had your hesitations, the only man who has ever seen you in such a lewd nature was your ex. You didn’t know if you were ready for sex with another person, even if he was the hottest man you’d ever seen. But, against your better nature, you convinced yourself that your ex was gone and this was bound to happen sooner or later, so why not sooner?

You grabbed your phone in earnest before anything inside you could convince you to stop and unlocked it, opening the messages for his number and typing out your text, hitting send before any sort of regret had the chance to sink in.

me : i’ll take your offer

me : this is ____ btw

You placed your phone down on the couch cushions beside you and chewed nervously on the not so fresh manicure that was still on your nails. To your surprise, his reply came in quickly and you frantically reached for your phone as the dings came rolling in.

+82 2 5284 8735 : i know who you are

+82 2 5284 8735 : i'll be there in 20

+82 2 5284 8735 : be ready sweetheart

Your heart thumped restlessly as you shot up from your seat shouting “twenty minutes?!” and you cried out nervously. You hadn’t even seen his face in good lighting and you didn't know his name so you’d basically be fucking a complete stranger which scared you enough as it is but the fact that that stranger held you at gunpoint merely a week prior is what scared you shitless.

In the limited time that he gave you, you decided to freshen up a bit so you hopped in the shower. Your first shower in a few days after your psychotic state worsened. Humming in bliss, you relished in the feeling of the scalding water flowing over your skin as you took your time washing , shaving, and singing, in an attempt to rid yourself of the horrendous nerves that overtook your senses. After reluctantly stepping out of the steamy oasis, you’d decided on a white lingerie set you had gotten yourself for christmas but never got to wear for anyone because your significant other was always “working” or too tired/busy to take the time of day for you. Pairing the set with a matching white silk robe and not bothering to wear any shoes because you’re in your own house, you slicked your lips in a thick coat of gloss and applied some mascara and eyeliner to your tired eyes just to spruce up a bit. You figured, if you put effort into your appearance, then maybe he’d spare your life after the sex. You stared at yourself in the mirror, tying your robe, smacking your glossed lips together and ogling your appearance before a soft knocking was heard from the living room. “He’s here” you told yourself with a deep shaky breath as you vacated the bathroom and slowly ventured toward the door.

You stood silently before the front door, contemplating whether this was a mistake or if it was too late to turn back. As much as you hated to admit, there was no logical solution to your problem that was in compliance with any standing laws. Heck, what you were doing was probably illegal in everywhere but Las Vegas so you had no other choice than to twist the handle, open the door and stare up at the most alluring man you had ever laid eyes on. You ran your eyes all over his body, studying him, his features, his gorgeous eyes, impeccable nose, plush lips, smooth hair, and strong arms that lead to a presumed strong chest hidden under his plain white tee. He noticed you blatantly checking him out to which he placed a finger on your chin, lifting your face up so your eyes met and making you watch as he rolled his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it for a moment. Oh how you wished that was your lip.

“You ready little dove?” he asked, his tone seductive and smooth like chocolate as he walked closer to you, closing the door behind him and backing you up until you stood patiently before the couch staring up at him, a wistful glint in your eyes as you nodded. He reached up, using a finger to push your robe off of your right shoulder and cocking his head quizzically. “All dressed up just for me?” he pondered, his eyes trained on the white lace peeking out from under the robe. You nodded, to which he gripped your chin roughly, furrowing his eyebrows at your response. “Use your words sweetheart” he warned, loosening his grip so you could speak in affirmation.

“Yes…” your voice trailed off, thinking of what to call him, as you still didn’t know his name, so you addressed him as you would any man you didn’t know, “yes, sir. I dressed up just for you” you concluded, your voice barely greater than a whisper as the corners of his lips turned up. He let out an animalistic growl at the name you gave for him, obviously satisfied and moved his hand from your chin to grip the back of your neck promptly.

“It’s Jungkook, but sir will do nicely” he basically growled before latching onto your lips with carnal aggressiveness. You whined heartily into his mouth as his tongue slipped deftly into yours and intertwined with yours, causing your mind to fall into a haze as he coiled his arm around your waist, bringing your body flush against his toned frame. You reached up with shaky hands, fumbling with his shirt, eager to get it off of him and gaze upon the expanse of his abdomen. His lips detached for a moment, giving you the chance to pull his shirt over his head, which he gladly obliged and lifted his hands over his head, swiftly resuming their positions when his shirt formed a pile on the floor beside you. You leaned back in, attempting to capture his lips in another phenomenal kiss but he pulled back, leaving you to chase him and whine when you ultimately lose, to which he laughs mischievously, taking his hands off of your body and toying with the silk tie on the front of your robe.

“How do you want it baby?” he pondered, the new nickname sending shivers down your spine as you glanced at him quizzically, as if asking what he meant. He chuckled softly, tugging at the ribbon and opening your robe as he brought his hands up, carefully sliding it down your arms and bending down so his face was level with your collarbone. He placed a gentle kiss there, leaving fire in the wake of his lips as he spoke, his breath cooling the seared flesh, “would you like me to be gentle?” he asked leaving more hot kisses along the expanse of your shoulder and neck, drawing salacious sounds from your parted lips as he brought his hand up to rest at the base of your neck. “Or…” he paused, sliding his hand up and increasing the intensity of his grip on your throat, restricting the blood flow to your brain as your mind became hazy and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. “Do you want me to be rough?” he continued, lifting his head to watch your face as he loosened his grip. “It’s your choice little dove.”

You were elated, ecstatic and a little disappointed when he loosened his grip on your neck. Your ex was always into sex that lindered toward the vanilla side, as mentioned before, so he would never think to try anything like choking, which always intrigued you just a little bit. You wished you would have experienced other styles of love before you met him but you didn't, and this was your chance to try them out now. Your fingers travelled up, lightly grazing over that hand that was tightly wrapped around your neck. Whining quietly you rolled your bottom lip between your teeth, biting it softly as your other hand came up and wrapped around Jungkook’s forearm.

“I wanna try it rough” you mumbled, eyes closing as you relished in the hazy feeling this restriction gave you which only heightened as he tightened his grip.

“Perfect.” he groaned out almost inaudibly as he pulled your face to his, colliding your lips in the roughest, most passion filled kiss you’d ever experienced. He devoured your mouth with gluttonous amusement, his grip on your airway never wavering for a moment as he tongued you down, his carnal need prevalent and present in the thick air of the room. You reached up, completing a task you’d been wanting to do for days, tangling your hand in the messy black mass that fell upon his head, and relishing in the soft feeling of his waves. Then he detached from your lips and moved away, forcing your hands to fall from his hair and onto his broad shoulders, which, while pleasurable to touch, didn’t even come close to frolicking your fingers through his locks. He moved his hand from your neck to your shoulder, to which you whined with a small pout, missing the new contact as he chuckled at your eagerness. He stared at your lips, before leaning down and capturing your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down on it voraciously before he spoke. “Do you want me to put this slutty little mouth of yours to use little dove?” he asked, pulling back as if waiting for an answer, to which you obliged.

“Yes sir” You answered quite honestly in fact, as you felt all your hesitation and weariness about this task slip away. “Please put my mouth to use.” you pleaded, staring up at him, a wanton expression on your soft features.

“You’re so good for me .” he whispered, his soft breath fanning your face as you nodded in agreement, “such an obedient little dove, hmm?” he asked, to which you nodded once again, a bit more frantically this time as you awaited his cue. He used the hand on your shoulder to abruptly push you down with a small yelp so you were seated on the black leather couch behind you, the colder leather contrasting the burning lust in your entire body as you looked up at him. “Get to work slut.” Your eyes widened at the name. Maybe it was supposed to be an insult or he just liked calling you that but you couldn’t help the gargantuan wave of slick that coated your panties at the moment.

You looked down, a bit above eye level with his crotch as you reached up to palm him through his faded blue jeans. His scent was tantalizing, musky, and you couldn't get enough as you stared up at him through your eyelashes, your lips slightly parted as you gazed in awe. He gave you a warning glance, as if scolding you for teasing him for this long and you unzipped his pants. He held out his hand, as if to stop you before reaching behind his pants and pulling his gun from the back of his jeans. Your eyes widened, gaze now trained on the firearm in his hand, a horrified expression on your face as you ceased all actions. Which he noticed, peering down at you, a horrifying smile etched on his godlike features as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Relax darling, I won’t kill you,” he purred, reaching down and weaving the fingers of his free hand into the roots of your hair, grabbing and pulling back roughly so you have no other choice but to meet his dark eyes. “We’re only just getting started.” he lowered the gun, pressing the muzzle into the underside of your jaw, the cold metal like ice against your scalding skin. However, you felt no need to cry, felt no need to fear for your life even as this gun was pressed to your neck, aimed to kill, because you knew he wouldn’t do it. Through the dark facade and ominous gaze in his eyes there was something else that made you trust his inability to kill you. You realized you were enjoying the thrill, the excitement of putting your life in his hands. So, you did what any crazy bitch would do in this situation, you breathed out deeply, relaxing your shoulders and slouching yourself down to push your neck further onto the tip of the gun with a mischievous smile. Jungkook stared down at you in awe, running his tongue on the inside of his cheek and taking his gun off of your neck before tossing it over to the end of the couch behind you.

Resuming your actions with a shaky breath, you tugged his pants down until they fell to his ankles and placed your hands on the sides of his underwear clad hips. You might’ve been inexperienced in his style of fucking but you sure knew how to give a good blowjob, so you got to work, placing open mouthed kisses to his clothed appendage. You looked up at him once more seeing the lust clouded haze that filled his deep brown eyes. After a bit of teasing, you hooked your fingers in the waistband of his underwear, pulling it down in a seductively slow manner as you allowed his needy cock to spring free, and you stared up at it with a gasp.

It was huge.

You didn’t really know what qualifies as huge because the only dick you’ve ever had was around 6 inches on a good day but this alluring appendage swinging before your face had to be at least 9 inches long and you wondered how the fuck you were going to fit it all in your mouth let alone your pussy, which was already aching for it. Your mouth involuntarily opened wider in anticipation of his delicious dick inside and you grabbed the base, with two hands, drawing a hiss from the man that stood over you as he kicked off his shoes and the rest of the clothing that pooled around his feet. You licked teasingly up the sides of his dick, stopping at the tip to swirl your tongue around it, and catching some salty precum when you did. You glanced up at him and he looked absolutely furious in the best sort of way. Frustrated to the max as you teased him mercilessly, only spending meere fleeting moments at the spots which needed the most attention.

Then he snapped, taking you by surprise and using his hand that was still tangled in your hair to hold you still while he shoved his cock in your mouth. You tried to gasp but it merely came out as a small strangled whimper that was cut off as his length reached that back of your throat. You moved your hands to the sides of his hips once again, bracing yourself as he slowly pulled his member out of your mouth, most likely winding up for another thrust. He propelled his hips forward once again, stuffing not nearly all of his cock into your mouth, as his tip grazed the back of your throat. The feeling of him completely filling your mouth had you livid, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you moaned, the vibrations reverberating onto his appendage which drew a salacious moan from his plush parted pink lips.

“Fuck, your mouth feels like heaven.” he moaned out, then he started to fuck your face, tears pooling in your eyes while his dick basically hit the back of your throat with every harsh stroke of his hips as he gripped on your hair tighter. After one particularly hard thrust, he held his length down your throat as tears rolled down your cheeks and you gagged around him. He took his cock out of your mouth, to which you gasped, swallowing the spit that pooled in your mouth with an aroused groan.

“Tastes so good.” you mumbled, not possibly being able to get enough as he shoved his cock back into your mouth and fucked your throat relentlessly. The tension building in you was too much to bear and your need to cum only heightened as his actions resumed. You arched your back slightly, pushing your clothed clit into the black leather cushions of the couch as you gyrated into it slowly, praying he wouldn’t notice and would be too invested in fucking your throat to realize.

You were wrong. He noticed immediately.

He halted all movements, taking his cock from your throat and grabbing your neck harshly, to which you gasped, whimpering as he pulled you up to stand in front of him, cock slapping the front of your body as you stared at his face in anticipation of his actions. You could imagine what you looked like right now swollen glossy lips, and tear stains running down your face because you didn’t bother to wear your waterproof mascara. You never needed it any other time so you figured why would you need it now. Oh how wrong you were.

“Dirty little dove, trying to get off on the couch because you want me that bad?” he rasped, nearing closer to your face with each word and you nodded frantically, basically begging him to do something, anything. “Words” he barked, drawing a cry from your lips as you thought of what to say.

“I want your cock, please sir.” you begged, before he groaned hungrily and captured your lips in a ravenous kiss, taking you by surprise. No one had ever kissed you after they’d fucked your throat before so why would he do it. You didn’t dwell on that thought for too long before melting into his touch and wrapping your arms around his neck. Jungkook took his free hand, trailing it around your body to unclasp the back of your bra, your eyes going wide at the skillful ease of his fingers. He snatched the white lace clothing off of your frame, tossing it to the other side of the room and reaching back up to cup one of your soft breasts in his hand, flicking the nipple with his index finger and making you sigh satisfactorily into his mouth. He leaned forward, taking you with him as he lowered both of you back onto the couch, settling himself between your newly opened legs and never breaking the kiss. He unlatched his hand from your neck, trailing it down your body as the other hand continued to knead your breast skillfully. His burning touch slowly ventured further and further down your abdomen until he reached the band of your panties and abruptly tore the thin while lace from your body to your dismay and discarding it on the floor beside him. You whined sadly, as those had been your favorite pair of underwear but barely had any sort of time to grieve as you felt two rough fingers dip into the wetness of your slit, trailing them up and stopping right over the spot you needed him to be at, pulling a moan from your still swollen lips.

He began kissing a trail down your body, stopping for a mere moment to suck on the pert bud of your free breast before resuming his path of destruction. He moved his hands to settle on the inner sides of your thighs, spreading them apart and sighing as he got a glimpse of the treasure between them. Your eyes widened upon realizing his destination as you scooched away, holding a handful of his tousled black hair in an attempt to grab his attention.

“I-…” you paused, chewing on your bottom lip and thinking of how to word your statement. “i’ve never asked anyone to do that for me before, so y- you don’t have to do it.” you stuttered wearily as the nerves set in. No one’s face had ever been remotely close to your womanhood and the thought of it sent a chill down your spine as you released his hair from your grasp. You wondered what it would even be like. He glanced up at you, eyes dilated as he chuckled, a dark chuckle that made you shiver as he tightened his grip on your thighs, yanking you closer to his face and taking a deep drag of your scent once you were close enough.

“Oh baby I want to” he basically moaned out, licking his lips and glancing down at your glistening slit, the corners of his lips turning up in a hungry smile. You raised an eyebrow, asking yourself ‘why the fuck would he want to do that?’, and ‘isn’t this for my pleasure?’, but all your concerns were answered once he spoke again. “I can’t wait to make you writhe on my tongue little dove” he muttered, causing your cheeks to burn with the intensity of a thousand suns as he talked into your soaking entrance. “... make you beg and cry without even using my cock.” he continued, releasing your left thigh from his grip as he placed a hand on your pubic mound, lowering his thumb and slowly beginning to circle your clit eliciting a loud wail from you. “You think, if I had the power to turn you into a messy little whore all for me just by using my mouth, I wouldn’t use it at any chance I could?” He asked and you whined, nodding as your hips stuttered up in desperate need of more friction. “It’s all about power baby, and I have it all here” he groaned, watching you clench pathetic around nothing.

Then, he finally gave you what you wanted. His hand resumed its grip on your thigh, forcing it away from the other as his thumb was swiftly replaced by his warm tongue licking up and down your wet sex. You moaned, placing your shaky hands on the mounds of your chest, toying with your nipples just to add to the pleasurable sensations he was creating with his tongue. This feeling was unlike any ecstasy you had ever felt and you never wanted it to stop. His tongue slipped deftly into your soaked entrance twisting and turning skillfully as you keened loudly. His warm wet appendage swirling around your wet cavern was the best feeling in the entire world and you knew if he continued ravaging you at this pace, you’d cum in no time. But, you needed this release. You needed to let go of all this pent up sexual frustration you didn’t even know you harbored. You needed to experience your first orgasm in months, if not years, that wasn’t self inflicted and you hoped and prayed with all your heart that it would come soon.

He switched his focus,, moving his tongue up to play with your aching clit and slipping two fingers into your formerly empty hole with a deep groan that reverberated through your core like a powerful vibrator which only intensified your moans and cries of pleasure. You looked down on yourself to see the delicious sight of him devouring your cunt ruthlessly, the sight alone almost tipping you over the edge as you brought your hands up, covering your eyes while you neared completion.

“Jungkook you’re gonna make me cum.” you called out, an exasperated cry leaving your lips when your impending orgasm was painfully ripped away from you as all his motion stopped. You uncovered your eyes, about to stare down when your body jolted, a harsh sting being felt directly on your clit, sending a wave of warmth barreling through your entire body. Then you understood, he slapped you, and you peered down at him, your eyes glassy due to the orgasm that was ripped from your grasp.

“Who? said you can cum.” he deadpanned menacingly, staring up at you through hooded eyes as you leaned your head back tiredly, realizing the error in your words and prepared to beg, just like he said you would.

“Sir” you cried, holding your arms limply over your head as you continued to plead. “Sir please, please make me cum.” you begged mercilessly, a tear of relief sliding down your cheek as he resumed his assault on your core, attacking at a steady pace and retrieving the all too familiar knot that formed in the pit of your stomach. You reached up, grabbing the edge of the couch with an iron grip, your knuckles turning white as your hips began circling on his face, your clit rubbing against his tongue with every movement and venturing you closer to your sweet release.”Please don’t stop sir, oh my god” you whined loudly, fucking his face relentlessly as you chased your high, nearing it more and more with each thrust of your hips until he finally pushed you off the brink of ecstasy, a scream leaving your lips as Jungkook continued his unrelenting attack on your pained pussy.

You rode out your high, writhing and panting before him, his pace never faltering, his fingers never slowing, his tongue never relenting and it soon became too much. The euphoric delirium quickly turned into madness as you barreled down the path into overstimulation. You wailed pathetically, thrashing under his hold as the pleasurable pain consumed your body and you could barely form a coherent sentence but you persevered, scraping all the coherent thoughts you could muster and turning them into tangible words that sat on the tip of your tongue, ready to be spoken. “Sir please, it's too much!” you cried to which Jungkook finally let up, slowing his pace to a halt and sitting back.

“Oh my god that was so fucking hot” he growled before sucking on his glossy fingers and cleaning around his mouth with his skilled tongue as he gazed amusedly upon your exhausted body. But he was nowhere near done with you. This fact made apparent when he stood and wrapped an arm around your hip, lifting your limp body and turning you over with ease, positioning you so your face was pressed into the now warm couch cushion and your ass was raised high into the air before him. His eyes rolled at the view of your swollen cunt bent over for him and he gave it a light smack, eliciting a pained, but tired yelp from you as he chuckled muttering “you’re going to drive me crazy little dove.” under his breath.

He crouched down, coming face to lips with your abused cunt as he wrapped his arms around your bent bottom, lacing his fingers together as they rested at the arch of your back and dragging his nose up the tortured path of your slit, drawing whines and cries of overstimulation from your wiggling frame as you tried to get away from the punishing menace that was his face. “No, please. I can't take anymore, it's too much.” You whimpered, your voice muffled as you leaned your face into the couch tiredly to which he obliged, reluctantly, as he stood, grabbing his neglected dick in hand and pointing it toward your pink entrance.

“I can’t wait to stretch your pretty little pussy ____.” he purred and you moaned at the sound of your name slipping off of his tongue like the creamiest butter. He dragged his tip along your swollen clit, abusing it again for what seemed like the millionth time that day as he covered his girth in your slick, a guttural groan emitting from the back of his throat. Then, abruptly, he sunk into your slippery cavern, barely all the way in but you’d never felt so full in your entire life as he pushed forward slowly, filling you up and providing you with the most delicious stretch you’d ever felt. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you whined, a desperate whine that you could barely register was your own voice as he pushed his length completely inside of you, his head falling back and your name, rolling off of his tongue once again.

After barely giving you time to adjust to his alarming size, he reeled his hips back before slamming into you again, and again, and again, over and over again until he was fucking you at an unrelenting speed you barely knew was possible to achieve. Suffering from the overwhelming pleasure he forced you to endure, you shut your eyes tight, crying out in strangled indulgence as you grasped onto the fluffy throw blanket strewn lazily over the couch in front of you. You relished in the sting of his girth, staring ahead blankly with glassy eyes as he rammed into you with a punishing speed and black mascara filled tears streamed down your cheeks.

You knew you were about to cum soon, again, only due to the all too familiar feeling accumulating in the pit of your belly. Jungkook reached down, placing a hand on your shoulder blade and pressing your chest further into the couch while he drilled into you, moaning and cursing at the feeling of you flexing deliciously around his cock. He felt you were close, so he moved his hand, snaking it around your waist and trailing his other hand to assume its position around your neck, hoisting you up so your back was arched against his abdomen and you had no choice but to stare up at him as he talked down on you, never slowing the snapping of his hips for a wavering moment.

“You’ve never been fucked this good have you?” he teased through clenched teeth as he leaned down, sucking and marking all over the expanse of your neck with grunts and growls of pleasure. You were way too fucked out to even think about the words to form a coherent sentence, barely being able to form whimpered versions of ‘mhm’ after he questioned you but he was having none of that. He unraveled his hand from your waist, tightening his grip on your throat and landing a hard slap to your left asscheek, drawing a shrill shriek from the depths of your throat as he warned in your ear. “Words little dove” he slapped you again, “how many times do I have to fucking warn you.” he concluded, landing another harsh smack to your abused flesh as you whimpered.

“You’re the best I’ve ever had, I’m such a slut for you sir.” You sobbed out, “please let me cum, please fuck” you whined, drawing out your words and you reached back, tangling both hands in his unruly mop of hair as he split you open, moaning directly in your ear which in itself, was a thing that could make you cum on the spot.

“Cum then.” He said obviously, as if it was the most simple response, only it was this simple command that shoved you off the precipice of ecstasy for a second time. The feeling that bloomed deep in your stomach soon blossomed into a full blown orgasm that racked through your body quickly, leaving nothing but white hot pleasure in its wake as your legs trembled viciously, with one last loud cry of Jungkook’s name. But, he still did not falter, his pace quickening as he neared his own climax, the speed both too much and not nearly enough at the same time. You reached back, attempting to push him and escape the all consuming pleasure torturing your body like a blazing fire but your hands were caught quickly by Jungkook’s hands which crossed them tightly and held them behind your back, resuming his attack.

You shook your head, letting it hang as your tears fell freely onto the couch before you, his moans and groans of ecstasy increasing in volume and frequency as he neared his own climax, his hips faltering in their pace for the first time in a while as he worked to his own release. In what seemed like an instant, he released the most beautiful, salacious, strangled moan you had ever heard, pulling himself out of your soaked cunt, and painting the surface of your ass with his white hot ropes of cum. He finally let you go after a moment, watching as you fell limply to the couch, laying face down, panting exhaustively, your arms still crossed limply behind your back as he smirked down at your fucked out frame. He left you alone for just a bit, coming back but a few moments later before you felt the sore skin of your asscheeks being wiped off with what felt like a warm hand towel. You were relieved he had the respect to clean his mess, it made you respect him just a little bit more as a person but you were way too tired to dwell on the subject any longer.

“You did so good for me little dove” he cooed, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it as he placed a sweet chaste kiss on your lower back, caressing his hand up the side of your body. A simple touch that lacked any sort of sexual aspects, it felt comforting and you sighed, leaning further into the soft couch as you heard him begin to put his clothing on. You felt a pang of distress, seeing as you were more of a fuck and cuddle kind of girl, but you really hadn’t expected him to stay so why’d you feel the need to ask him to. Pushing the feeling deep inside your gut, you sighed deeply as he walked in front of you to bend forward and grab his gun that laid discarded on the opposite side of your couch, also grabbing the throw blanket beside it and tossing it over your naked frame before thinking about something. “So,” he started, tucking his gun in the back of his pants and humming, “I’m thinking that was worth about, hmm 50k” he started. You vaguely understood what he was saying and knew you’d flip out once you were conscious enough to truly comprehend his words. “I’ll keep in touch.” He said, pulling his shirt down and smiling deviously at you as you uttered a hoarse ‘huh?’ To which he answered simply, “if I wanna come collect some more money” and he spun on his heels, opening your door and sauntering out of the threshold.

When he got into the hallway, Jungkook burst into a wide smile, satisfied with the encounter he made today. He entered this agreement fully prepared to either fuck you once and take the money you’d earned back or just fuck you and kill you, but once he’d had a taste, he was insatiable. You were flawless, your compliance was impeccable. The way you obeyed him, begged for him, the way you tasted, the way you felt, the way you looked. There was no way he could ever get enough and is probably the reason he kept overstimulating you like a frat boy with a bruised ego. There was no way he was gonna just let go of an absolute gem like you, so he made his excuse, a plan. Everytime you fuck him, you pay back a portion of the money. He was so tempted to tell you this session was only worth $100 just as an excuse to come back over and over and over until he had his fill, but he kept his composure, giving you hope that you’d ever be free of his grasp. Jungkook for once was extremely ecstatic, elated, excited to ruin you even more than he already had and he was dead set on making you want him just as much as he craved you no matter what it took. Though he was pretty sure you already did.

[rinkrats]

🥺 that mike lange story. But also those tags #sid loooves christmas #he loves giving presents #looks good in red #piles on the pounds fast #post hockey career as santa 😂😂👌🏽👌🏽

he loves his mementos and presents and is COMMITTED to them. scrapbooking. matching jackets. little pills with hidden motivational messages~*~ his love language is gifts and neck smooches and stalking geno. relevant right now are some anecdotes i sent a friend earlier this year for dorky sid gifts fic fodder:

1. Crosby's constant thoughtfulness would be impressive from anyone, much less someone of his stature.

"Sid always texts me happy birthday, he's always asking me like, how's Russia?" Evgeni Malkin said. "We talk and message all summer. He asks me how my skates are. He knows, like, everything. He follows my Instagram, I think (laughs)."

In addition to having a handle on those little details, Crosby is constantly providing those around him with memories and mementos. If the team is on the road and goes, say, sightseeing or to a sporting event and takes a group photo, Crosby will later send a framed copy to everyone.

When Ron Hextall and Brian Burke watched their first Penguins game in person, Crosby is the one who approached head equipment manager Dana Heinze and asked for two used game pucks to give to the new GM and president of hockey ops. 

After the Penguins won in 2009, Crosby had jackets made for the three players on the team who had scored a Cup-clinching goal in Game 7: Talbot (Pittsburgh), Ruslan Fedotenko (Tampa Bay) and Mike Rupp (New Jersey).

"They were blue jackets with gold buttons, and each one had a patch on it that said 'GWG Game 7,'" Talbot said. "At one of our first team meals the next season, he presented us with the jackets and did a big ceremony with the music and stuff. We had a private room in the restaurant. I still have the jacket."

-The Consummate Teammate, Captain and Ambassador, Feb 2021

2. Merz: My first interaction with Sid was when we were on the bench, guys were talking about a teammate, and the first thing this 15-year-old says is, “Hey, guys. Let’s keep everything positive. Don’t talk about your teammates that way.”

Salcido: When we were getting ready for nationals, he found these little pills that you could put a hidden message inside. They unscrewed, and inside was a tiny scroll. He gave one to every teammate. … He had everyone fill one out. He didn’t tell anyone what to write, but he made it known that we all knew what the goal was: winning nationals. So we wrote on our scrolls, rolled them up and put them in the pill thing. We kept them with us everywhere we went.

-‘Is this real?’: Stories of Sidney Crosby’s year at a Minnesota prep school, May 2020

3. On “Butterfly Boy” Jonathan Pitre:

Though the Senators are his team, Sidney Crosby has always been Jonny’s favourite player. After the TSN documentary airs, Tina gets a call from the Penguins. Sid needs Jonny’s measurements. He wants to have a suit made for him by his personal tailor, Domenico Vacca.

“It’s the kindest, sweetest gesture,” Tina says. “Sid heard that Jonny went to a lot of games, so he wants him to look like he’s one of the guys.”

“I want him to feel like a pro,” Crosby says. “Here’s a guy who is going through something so painful, and his first thought is always, ‘How can I help others?’ When I was young, I’d watch on TV the players coming to the rink in their suits. That was a cool part of being an NHL player. I want him to feel that, to make it as real as possible for him.”

Tina tries to discreetly measure Jonny while she’s changing his dressings. But he’s way too smart for that.

“Um, Mom, why are you measuring me? Am I going for surgery again?” he asks.

“No, no!” Tina replies, trying to reassure him and come up with a good lie, all in the same breath. “The doctor needs them just to make sure they have proper dressings next time you are in.”

A few weeks later, the sharp navy blue suit shows up at their front door, along with a couple of ties, an autographed stick and a handwritten letter from Sid. 

“His eyes just light up,” Tina says. “Jonny always liked to be well-dressed, and he just loves having his own suit. It fits perfectly. He looks so good in it.”

-Beauties by James Duthie (2020)

4. Pascal Dupuis inspired his Pittsburgh Penguins teammates on their run to the Stanley Cup, and Sidney Crosby found a special way of driving that message home.

Dupuis retired in December with lingering health concerns because of blood clots. Despite his NHL playing days coming to an end, the veteran forward remained an integral part of the Penguins and was in uniform to hoist the Cup after Pittsburgh's six-game win against the San Jose Sharks in the Stanley Cup Final.

On Sunday, Dupuis brought the Cup home one last time as a player to share a special day with his family, friends and hometown fans.

"Yes, it does feel bittersweet a little bit," Dupuis said. "You get the Cup, you want to celebrate. But at the same time I got a gift by the mail [Saturday]. Basically, it's a book of all the pictures of all the good stuff we went through. It came from Nova Scotia, so you guys can figure out who it came from (Crosby), but he couldn't give it to me during the season, he saw me skating a little bit.

"And he sent it [Saturday], before my day with the Cup, so he knew what he was doing to get me right here," Dupuis said, putting his fist over his heart.

-Pascal Dupuis shares Stanley Cup with family, friends, Aug 2016

5. In 2011, Crosby was out of the lineup with a concussion, and the Penguins made their annual visit to Children’s Hospital.

Crosby got along so well with one boy there and was so touched that he later asked Bullano to go back... just the two of them, no cameras, no attention.

When Bullano and Crosby met for the follow-up visit, Crosby appeared clutching a pair of Toys “R” Us bags, filled with a Transformer toy the two had discussed.

“He literally bought every type of this toy they make,” Bullano said. “[Crosby] had never seen it before and thought it was so cool.

“There are no pictures of this. There’s no video. He was laying in the bed with the kid. They were just playing. We were there for over two hours. I got to know the mom really well because we were just sitting there.

“The kid had no idea. Didn’t expect it. They had no idea he was coming. We got there and he said, ‘Hey buddy. hope you don’t mind that I came back.’ The kid couldn’t believe it.

“[Crosby’s] crazy cool about stuff like that.”

What’s crazy is trying to recount the many times stuff like this has happened with Crosby:

• The Little Penguins Learn to Play program has been around for nine seasons, outfitting now 1,200 kids with free head-to-toe hockey equipment. Not only does Crosby serve as the face of the program — which the NHL has now adopted — but he helps fund it, too.

“There’s an awareness of what a person in his position can bring,” Penguins vice president of communications Tom McMillan said. “I think he activates that as much as anybody I’ve seen during his playing career.”

• After a recent practice, Crosby noticed a local family in the Penguins dressing room, approached them, introduced himself, learned their story and wound up giving them a signed stick.

Nobody asked Crosby to do that, and he wanted zero credit when discussing it a couple days later.

“For people who have the opportunity to come in here, people dealing with certain things, if you can brighten their day a bit or spend some time with them, it’s something that’s special for all of us,” Crosby said.

• A few years ago, through a team charity event, Crosby befriended a 4-year-old Amish boy with cancer. Crosby remarked to Bullano how much he loved talking to the boy because of how engaging the boy was and how he wasn’t consumed with technology. Crosby even tried to visit the boy but learned he had passed away.

• He learns the first and last names of the kids who attend his hockey school in Cole Harbour, Nova Scotia.

“Two kids came from Japan its first year,” Bullano recalled. “He was so blown away by that. He couldn’t wait to meet them.”

• Earlier this season, the Penguins welcomed Grant Chupinka, 24-year-old cancer patient, into the dressing room. Crosby chatted up Grant and his parents, Steve and Kim.

He spent his usual time — about two or three times the requirement. Gave the tour. Then found out the Chupinkas didn’t have tickets for that night’s game and decided he would pay for them to go.

“I’m sure he could just give them an autographed puck or something, but he takes his time to go out and see them and talk to them and get to know them,” Brian Dumoulin said. “It speaks volumes for him and who he is as a person.”

Spend any length of time with Crosby during his visits with those less fortunate, and a few things become obvious.

One, Crosby is really good at these. Smooth but not in a slimy way. Sweet. You know how when you’re around someone talking and they go out of their way to make eye contact with everyone around? That’s Crosby.

He’s also humble, always introducing himself like those he’s meeting don’t already know. Holding a hand is no issue. And Crosby is the rare 20-something pro athlete without kids who acts every bit like he does.

“It is not an easy situation to talk to someone with terminal cancer,” McMillan said. “A lot of people couldn’t do that. He has an amazing ability to do that and make that person feel good.”

Crosby has welcomed several Make-a-Wish kids and tries, if at all possible, to schedule such events for practice days — to maximize the time he’s able to spend.

He’s developed a special friendship with Patrick McIlvain, a soldier who nearly died when he took a bullet to the head in Afghanistan. McIlvain actually does physical therapy with one of Crosby’s sticks.

A former club hockey player at Cal U, McIlvain comes by every year, and the Penguins don’t even bother to tell Crosby. Either he already knows or immediately stops what he’s doing to come say hello.

“He’s not doing it to leave a legacy,” said Terry Kalna, Penguins vice president of sales and broadcasting. “His numbers leave the legacy. He’s just a down-to-Earth, good guy.”

Before a visit, Crosby has Bullano email him what is essentially a scouting report on who he’s going to meet. He likes to learn about them, their situation and what they’ve been through. As much information as he can ingest. Crosby never just swoops in, shake a hand and leave.

“As much as anyone has ever seen, he accepts the responsibilities of being not just a professional athlete but a star professional athlete,” McMillan said. “He views it as part of the job. Like coming to the morning skate. That’s just what you do.”

Put another way, “he owns those moments,” says Kalna.

Said Bullano, “He’s just a good human being.”

-When it comes to giving, Sidney Crosby does as much as he can, Feb 2017

6. When Crosby received a generous signing bonus on his Reebok deal, he wanted to share it with everyone.

“He gave everyone on the bus gifts,”  says Oceanic radio commentator Michel Germain. “Him sharing his bonus with all the people he’d been travelling with for two years, that impresses me greatly. I think the most important thing about Sidney Crosby is his personality and the kind of human being he is. What he exuded. The inner richness he’d already developed.” 

-Superstitious and generous, Dec 2006

7. also this simply because it makes me ;w;

Even in defeat — no, especially in defeat — Sidney Crosby proved why he wears the "C" for the Penguins.

After the game, with his heart sinking and his season over, the Penguins’ captain bent over, sank to the ice to pick up the puck, took it to linesman Tony Sericolo and then skated to his team’s handshake line.

I immediately thought of a View from Ice Level I’d written on Crosby making sure a retiring official was sent away from PPG Paints Arena properly. I knew picking up the puck wasn’t for the same reason that was, but I also knew, in some way, it was connected to Crosby’s awareness and respect of the game.

“It was for the Islanders,” Crosby told me after the game, his eyes swollen from a first round exit – by way of a sweep to make it worse. He told me how the winning team always wanted the puck, and it was his way of providing it for the Islanders.

Crosby looked me right in the eye as he told me this, just as he did with every other member of the media to come to him after the loss.

I could tell from those swollen eyes and the way he sat at his stall, by himself with his hands folded as he stared blankly, that Sidney Crosby is much more used to being on the receiving end of a puck when a series ends than he is at retrieving it for the winning team.

That scene. His swollen eyes. Staying in the locker room until most had left – talking to anyone who needed him. Most of all, though, picking up the puck that prompted my question in the first place and making sure the right people got their piece of their own history.

It all adds up to one thing: In victory and in defeat, Crosby respects the game above all else – just as he’s always done.

-Even in defeat, Crosby shines, April 2019

[pentacass]

For the ask oc thing; lana and vestra? Whichever you feel more comfortable doing : )

well hey there nonny. did u see my warning >:3c thanks for this ask!!!

❣️ - What are their love languages?

Lana: acts of service, words of affirmation, quality time Ves: acts of service, gift giving, physical touch

They have ‘acts of service’ in common and it causes a lot of friction between them. They have their own ideas of what’s the best thing to do for the other, and are adamant about it despite protests from their partner.

🎁 - How do they feel about their birthday/birthdays in general?

Lana: “It’s my birthday. Let’s have a meal together? :)”

Lana tends to forget her birthday sometimes, but treats it as an opportunity to spend time with those close to her.

Ves: “What the fuck are you talking about I was never born shut up”

Ves tried to avoid her birthday. Tried. Her crew figured out the date Ves gave them was a phony (it’s the day she was thrown into the Sith academy). Lana revealed her actual birthday and the crew finally celebrated it on the correct damn day.

Andronikos nearly got his face smacked when he mentioned Ves had tears in her eyes.

🧑‍🦰 - Have they ever dyed their hair? Ever cut it themself?

Neither have! But I like to think Ves gets either red or purple streaks in her hair after leaving the Empire for good.

🗣️ - How do they handle public speaking?

They’re both eloquent, but Ves is better suited to giving inspiring speeches.

💓 - What are some signs they’ve fallen for someone? How do they show their affection?

Lana: Lana feels like a very straightforward person - if she likes someone, she’ll say it. She’ll flirt, pay more attention, sneak in touches (if appropriate), typical stuff. She makes them a priority, watches out for them. Work takes up most of her time, but she’ll find a way to be there for them.

Ves: She goes into vehement self-denial and plays hot-and-cold with the other. She’ll try to distance herself, then come close when she can’t keep it in, then distance herself again out of regret, on and on. And yeah, she did this with Lana. This is why I call her a clown. She is a fuckin clown!11!!1!!

👪 - What’s their relationship with their parents like?

Lana: As close as any other. Her parents were well-off and gave her everything she wanted - with certain limits to instill discipline. They were proud of her when she entered the Sith academy, and she was reluctant to leave them behind. She regretted not keeping in closer contact before they passed in an accident, but life goes on, and so has she.

Ves: Very close. As a child, her world consisted of her parents and the starship they lived in. They traveled the length of the galaxy, and her parents were the only constants in her life. Even when they were enslaved, her parents protected her the best they could. Being forced to kill them left scars on her psyche that she may never fully heal from.

🐒 - What’s their favorite animal?

Lana: She had a tooka cat back home, but never saw it again after she left for the academy. No strong feelings towards any animal.

Ves: Lana in bed Same as Lana, no strong feelings. But if she had the time and patience, she likes the idea of having a tuk’ata as a guard dog.

☂️ - How do they feel about rain?

Lana: Wet. Inconvenient. Seen too much of it on Dromund Kaas, too little on Korriban. But whatever, ya know? It’s just the weather.

Ves: Likes it. When she was younger, she had a thing where she’d hide out somewhere in the rain so no one would come looking for her.

🖌️ - Do they have any hobbies?

Lana: Other than writing poetry and studying philosophy regarding the Force, she likes to work out. It helps to work off stress and keeps her in shape.

Ves: Cooking. Eating. Bothering her darling wife. She likes cutting and shaping crystals too - it’s an artisan craft that helps her keep sane.

💤 - What do they absolutely need to have to fall asleep?

Lana: Somewhere safe to lie down. She isn’t picky, and is rugged enough to be able to sleep anywhere.

Ves: She doesn’t sleep willingly. She can sleep anywhere too, but it’s necessity trained as a slave. Having creature comforts taken away was a constant.

🎢 - Do they like amusement parks? What’s their favorite ride?

Lana: A nice enough diversion, but she can think of better places to be. Favourite is roller coaster.

Ves: Fun! Anything extreme enough to make her feel like she’ll shit her soul out.

🗺️ - What languages do they speak?

Lana: Basic, Sith, Huttese. Pretty typical choice of languages for Imperials. She’s comfortable relying on translators for others.

Ves: Basic, Sith, Huttese, Rakatan, Togruti, Kaleesh. She likes studying languages, and does mental translations constantly in her head as a layer of mental defense.

🍳 - How well can they cook? 🍪 - How well can they bake?

Lana: Her cooking is average. Or ‘functional’, Ves likes to call it - she keeps things basic or follows recipes to the letter, doesn’t get creative with them. She doesn’t bake, but starts to learn some basic stuff from Ves.

Ves: She does both very well. It’s a point of pride for her, and she enjoys feeding her loved ones.

💘 - What do they find attractive about their partner(s)?

Lana: Ves’ confidence. And when Ves really exerts her power in the Force, the air around her warps and bends, becomes charged - Lana finds it intoxciating. But what gets her most is how soft Ves can be when she’s comfortable with Lana, and lets her guard down.

Ves: Washboard abs and arms that lift her from the ground easily 👀 Lana’s calm, logical manner anchors her, but the fierceness of Lana’s love is what makes her heart leap every single time. Lana is a source of emotional stability and unconditional love she has needed for the longest time.

👗 - How comfortable would they be wearing a skirt or dress?

They both prefer dresses, though Ves wears it more often than Lana.

💝 - What gestures do they really appreciate? How do you get on their good side?

Lana: Acknowledgement of her advice and effort. Be there to catch her when she slips or needs time to rest. Be sincere instead of trying to lie or manipulate her.

Ves: Just be a decent person. Really. Just...show her that you’re more than what she was forced to be, as Sith. Be loyal, be honest, and stay even when she’s being difficult.

☕ - Coffee or tea?

Tea for Lana. Caf for Ves.

💀 - How do they feel about horror movies?

Lana: Fun, even though they make her more aware of shadows for the rest of the night.

Ves: They’re afraid?? Of ghosts? Haha. Hahahahaha. AAAHAHAHAHAHAHA

🧸 - Do they have any stuffed animals? If so, are they decorative or do they sleep with them?

No stuffed animals for either. But Lana once gave Ves a figurine of a tooka cat because it made her think of Ves. It’s on Ves’ nightstand on the ship.

💖 - How and how often do they try to impress their partner(s)? How and how often do their partner(s) impress them?

They try to impress less often now, safe in a stable and committed relationship. In the beginning, though...

Lana: She doesn’t believe in putting on appearances, but makes an effort to be capable in every way, making sure Ves is covered. Darth Avriss is being cornered politically or stuck in a bad position on the battlefield? Key intel appears in her databanks, reinforcements are coming. On a date? She has studied the area and knows every establishment with good food and entertainment. In bed? Lie down sweetheart and let my mouth do the work.

Ves: She doesn’t exercise her power as Darth to impress. She flaunts her wealth, beauty, and boobs sexuality for superficial impressions, but becomes a lot more sincere with Lana. Starts cooking for her, watching out for her needs, showering her with gifts. Ves has near-infinite resources, so come here, and let her take care of you.

🍽️ - What’s their favorite food?

Lana: Steak, the occasional cheesecake, fresh bread with butter.

Ves: Soups (sour and spicy, or creamy), cake, chocolate wafers. (Fun fact!! Those wafers I keep mentioning in fic? Imagine Loacker’s Quadratini wafers.)

🧑‍🍼 - How do they feel about kids?

Neither had strong feelings or even plans to have kids, until Ves brings it up (after tons nagging from Khem, of all people). They’re unsure at first, but grow more comfortable with the idea over time. Start planning and finally have two kids they love more than anything.

🐾 - Do they have any pets?

Nope. They don’t have the time to keep any pets. They may get one after lots of pleading from their kids though. Who knows? :))

🏳️‍🌈 - What do they identify as? What are their pronouns?

Both are cis women, she/her. Lana’s bi, Ves is lesbian.

🥰 - What pet names do their partner(s) use for them? How flustered do they get by them?

Lana: Sweetheart, my love, honey, baby. Though Ves only uses the last one in private. How flustered she gets depends on how Ves purrs into her ear.

Ves: Darling, my love/dear, brat. Similarly, last one in private, due to obvious reasons lmao. Initially, it stops her brain. Later it just warms her heart in a really good way.

(man i gotta think of more unique pet names lmao)

🌳 - What’s their extended family like?

Their extended family is the SI crew, the core Alliance squad (Aelirra who’s the Commander, Theron, Koth, Senya, Arcann), Vette, Kira.

SI crew is pretty self-explanatory, and Vette joins them eventually (will write this in fic). Alliance squad due to Lana. Kira due to her relationship with Aelirra. All of them are involved with Ves and Lana’s family one way or another, helping to care for their kids, etc. Their son, Aiden, will end up being trained as a Jedi under Aelirra and Kira.

-

holy shit u made it to the end i’m sorry thanks for reading

[skinnyducky]

monsters (pt. 2 to maneater) // v.h.

This part went through so many changes. At one point, it was a backstory and at another it was a twilight fanfic. But I think this is where it should’ve went. Besides that, this is very much inspired by Supernatural and Teen Wolf and those sorts of shows. So, hope you enjoy!

link to part 1

Word Count: 1942, slightly edited

WARNING: language, sexual themes, mentions of blood/gore, partying, and supernatural creatures :)

---------

Your eyes shot open and sweat trickled down from your forehead. Your chest heaved up and down as you felt around, the feeling of rough leather coming in contact with your palm. Your sight became clear, and you were relieved to find yourself still in Vinnie’s car. You didn’t know what the hell that was about, but you knew something wasn’t right.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” Your boyfriend, Vinnie, asked. He kept his attention on the road, shooting a few worried glances your way. “You look like you just had a nightmare.”

You leaned back in the passenger seat and gazed out the window. “No, no…it wasn’t that. This felt real, like I was actually living it, y’know?”

“What was it then? Was it a vision?”

“I think so,” you sighed, reaching for your water. “It was hard to tell. It was weird.”

Vinnie softly chuckled. “Well, I wouldn’t expect your visions to be normal. What was this one about?”

“You.”

“Me?”

You nodded. “You, and me. We were going into a room and-“

“I think I know where this is headed, Y/n.”

“No, it wasn’t one of those dreams.” You replied. “I was some sort of monster, and I was about to eat you.”

With furrowed eyebrows, Vinnie quickly pulled over and turned to you.

“Why’d you stop?” You asked.

“You know why I stopped, Y/n. You just had a vision, an important one at that.”

You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes at him. Your visions—or “gift” as Vinnie likes to call it—was something that came in handy in your line of work. Being hunters for the supernatural, your visions aided the two of you in finding clues and the whereabouts of monsters or entities. But unlike those visions, this one was different. Never have you been the leading actress in your visions, let alone have Vinnie guest star. That’s why you weren’t taking this as serious as he was.

“You know how they work, Vin. I don’t have visions with me in them. I haven’t even had a vision with you in it.”

Vinnie sighed, “Remember what your grandmother told to you?”

“Yeah, that I’m different from most psychics.”

“And your visions don’t just let you see things before they happen. They actually let you live through the people within them.”

You sat there confused, trying to figure out what he was trying to get at. “I’m having trouble understanding. Are you saying that I can sometimes live through others in my visions?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“If that’s the case, why were you in it? You’ve never been in them.”

He shrugged, starting the car back up. “Maybe it’s a sign or something. Maybe the person you were living through had an emotional connection with whoever they attacked. Just like you and me.”

“They didn’t though. It was at a party, and they didn’t know each other. Whoever the woman was lured her prey in.”

He paused. “Did you say it was at a party?”

“Yeah. I don’t know who’s party though. Just that whoever’s party it was, you…or the guy…was very unhappy about being there.”

You heard Vinnie gulp before he did a hard U-turn and sped down the road. You clung to your seat, fearing that this may be the end of your life. “What’s wrong, Vinnie?” You asked, gripping onto your seatbelt tightly.

“Jett.”

“I don’t understand. What about Jett?”

“Jett’s at that party, Y/n. He texted me an hour ago saying that some of the boys dragged him out and he’s bored out of his mind. Y/n, he’s me. Well, not me, but the guy you saw in your vision.”

“That makes sense.” You responded, chewing on your bottom lip. “If Jett’s in trouble, then we have to save him.”

“I’m already two steps ahead of you.”

It didn’t take you that long to figure out that the party was none other than at the D’Amelios’ house. It was a single release for Dixie, and she was throwing a huge party in celebration. Obviously, due to your work you and Vinnie couldn’t make it. But, given the situation…you wished you had shown up earlier.

“So, what do you think we’re dealing with?” You asked, following Vinnie in the house.

“You said she lured him in so…possibly a siren?”

You shook your head. “She didn’t sing to him, though. It was a look.”

“Gorgon maybe?”

“Why would a monster eat a statue?”

“I don’t know? For minerals?”

You ignored his statement and looked around for any sign of your friend. “If not a siren, and definitely not a gorgon…then maybe it’s-“

“A succubus.” Vinnie interrupted. “Look, we need to split up and try and find Jett before he becomes Jett à la carte. You check in the main room, and I’ll check the kitchen and the bathrooms.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You muttered, fiddling with your thumbs.

“Why not? We’d find the two of them faster that way.”                                                

“We’ve only dealt with one succubus before, and that one alone was a bitch. This one can’t be any different. We need to be cautious.” You huffed, crossing your arms.

“Y/n, we can’t play it safe this time! Our friend’s life is on the line!”

“And I understand that, but if we go into this gung-ho…then we’re more likely to scare her away and lead her to some other poor guy. I know Jett’s life is at stake here, but so is a bunch of other peoples.”

At that moment, a scream rang out through in the crowd and the music came to an abrupt stop. You gasped, dropping to your knees and covering your throbbing ears. Vinnie fell next to you, wrapping his arms around you.

“That wasn’t just your average scream was it?” Vinnie asked.

You kept your hands on your ears. “That was a banshee. While her screams are normal to a human…”

“…for the supernatural, it causes pain.” Vinnie finished.

You nodded, steadily getting back on your feet. everyone stopped dancing and mingling, trying to figure out what the hell happened.

“Jett’s not dead yet, is he? You know, with banshees being walking Geiger counters for death and whatnot.”

“No, Jett’s not dead. Don’t you remember? When banshees scream, it means that someone is about to die, not that they have already passed. It’s a prediction, just like my visions.” You explained.

The two of you saw a wailing Charli being carried out of the room by Noah and Chase. You raised an eyebrow and said, “Would you look at that. I think we found our banshee. Now where’s our succubus?”

You scanned the crowd, finding no sign of anyone feeling the effects of Charli’s scream. The succubus wasn’t there. You then remembered the two leaning up against walls, but surprisingly, there was no one clinging to them. Then, you looked to the stairs where you saw a familiar brunet making his way up them. There was no doubt it was Jett and judging by his state, the demon had him right where she wanted him.

You tapped Vinnie’s shoulder, gaining his attention. “They’re headed upstairs…just like in my vision. Ugh, why didn’t we think to go up there first?”

“It’s fine, Y/n. As long as we know where he is, we can get to him in time.”

Just as you two were about to embark on your quest to save Jett, the music resumed, and a herd of people got back on the dancefloor. You and Vinnie tried your best to push through the sweaty bodies, but it proved to be much more difficult.

“C’mon idiots, move out of the way!” Vinnie yelled, on the verge of decking people in the face. You on the other hand, had a sweeter disposition, nicely excusing yourself. After some time, you had finally got to the stairs and flew up them. Reaching the top, you both were met with no Jett and no succubus. There was, however, an elongated hallway with many doors.

Vinnie groaned, lacing his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Great, we lost them.”

“Maybe not.”

You closed your eyes and tried to remember your vision as vividly as you could. You steadily breathed in and out as it began to replay in your head. In seconds, your eyes shot open revealing nothing but ghostly white orbs. You stepped to the first door on the right. The minute your hand touched the handle, you were back to normal.

“It’s this one!” you spat, bursting through the door.

You and Vinnie ran inside, finding an unconscious Jett on the floor. Vinnie hurried to your shared friend and checked to make sure he was alright. You searched around the room in search of the demon to no avail.

In the midst of walking back over to Vinnie and Jett, you felt some light hit your shoulder. After feeling the spot, you took a look at your finger, seeing it painted with blood. Your breath hitched as you slowly looked up. There the succubus sat, hanging from the wall with a sick grin on her face and blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. She roared and dropped from the ceiling, falling on top of you.

“Vinnie!” You screamed, wrestling on the floor with the demon. Vinnie’s attention shot over to you and without hesitation, he charged at the succubus, punching the beast dead square in it’s jaw. She fell off of you and Vinnie took this chance to straddle her.

“Keep her steady, Y/n!” Vinnie ordered, reaching into his jacket pocket. You did as he said, planting your hands on the demon’s wrist, keeping her from moving too much. She flailed around, speaking in tongues and shouting out profanities.

Finally finding it, Vinnie pulled out his father’s bestiary. As he flipped through the pages, the succubus stopped moving and stared daggers at you.

“I know about you,” she cackled, “Y/n, the youngest psychic of your family.”

“Don’t listen to her, Y/n!” warned Vinnie.

You ignored his warning and responded to the demon. “You don’t know nothing about me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. Down in hell, we know all about you. And we can’t wait for you to join us and your whore of a mother.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, not from fear…but from rage. You looked to Vinnie, watching as he stopped on a page. He glanced up at you. “You ready?”

“Kill the bitch.”

Vinnie read off a vanquishing spell and upon doing so, the succubus began to cry out in agony. You struggled to contain her but after a few minutes, she stopped squirming. Her cries silenced as her body dissolved into boiling liquid, creating an acid pool of flesh and blood.

You let out a breath of relief. “Well, that was easier than the one in Devil’s Kettle.”

“That’s because we were amateurs then.” Vinnie replied as he stood up, bringing you with him.

You smiled, patting him on the back. “I gotta give you props on that punch. It was actually kind of hot.”

“No one can do it like me.”

“Don’t let my compliment go to your head.”

He pouted and then turned to a frightened Jett. “You okay, buddy?”

Jett softly nodded, shooting the two of you a shaky thumbs up. “N-Never better. How’d you know I was in trouble?”

Vinnie pointed over at you. “Visions. Only, she didn’t actually see you. She saw me.”

“O-Oh,” Jett said. “I guess, t-that’s cool. Thank you, Y/n.”

“You’re welcome.” You laughed, turning to Vinnie. “We did good, babe.”

“We sure did. All in a day’s work.”

“And onto the next adventure.”