#like what exactly are you trying to tell me

[lilianne-tarot]

PICK A CARD: What's Your Future Spouse's Best Personality Trait? ✮⋆˙

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How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images above. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you—go ahead and read both!

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MY MASTERLIST🫶🏻

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⊹₊⟡ Pile I

Resilient & Emotional

Romantic & Deeply Intuitive

4 of Cups + 9 of Wands + 8 of Cups?! Babes, your future spouse has been through the wringer. they are a tough cookie. This is the kind of person who’s faced rejection, disappointments, and emotional letdowns that could make even a main character in a tragic romance novel say, "Damn, you good?" 😭 But instead of being bitter, they’ve built a fortress of emotional resilience around themselves. The 9 of Wands is telling me this person has been knocked down 100 times but got up 101—they don’t give up on life or love, even if they’ve been burned before. The 8 of Cups confirms that they’ve walked away from things that no longer serve them (toxic exes, dead-end jobs, situationships that made no sense—all of it). They’re not the type to dwell on "what could’ve been." Instead, they cut their losses and move forward.

This is someone you can depend on. When life gets tough, they’re not crumbling into a puddle of existential dread—they’re standing tall, supporting both of you. They know how to handle loss, hardship, and setbacks without bringing negativity into the relationship. Instead of complaining, they’ll problem-solve and protect your peace.

Okay, now let’s talk about the Knight of Cups—aka, the walking romance novel protagonist. This person is charm on legs, but in a deep, thoughtful way. They’re not love-bombing for funsies—they actually feel things intensely and express love with heartfelt actions and words. while they are romantic, they also have a depth that makes them super self-aware. They know real love isn’t about grand gestures alone—it’s about emotional connection. So while they might not be showering you with gifts every five seconds, best believe they’ll know exactly when you’re feeling off and how to comfort you without even being asked.

They’ll write you long-ass texts about how much they love and appreciate you🥺. They’re the type to listen to your late-night yapping and actually remember what you said. They have a poetic way of expressing love, even if they don’t try to be poetic, they just naturally speak in soft boy/girl energy. MY TYPE MY TYPE MY TYPE😭

This person doesn’t do "surface-level love." They love in a way that FEELS SAFE—like you can fully be yourself without judgment. No breadcrumbs, no mixed signals—just pure, heart-centered love. Your future spouse is giving "strong but soft" energy. They’re emotionally intelligent, resilient, and romantic, and they don’t play about their love life. They will love you deeply, protect your peace, and keep the romance alive—all while being a grounded, stable, and emotionally evolved partner. ✨ You won’t have to second-guess this connection. They’re mature, romantic, and strong-willed—a whole package deal. 🥹

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⊹₊⟡ Pile II

The "Master Strategist With 3000 IQ" Energy

The "Zen AF, But Knows When to Strike" Energy

Okay, listen—this person does NOT make impulsive decisions. The 2 of Wands + The Hanged Man combo? This is the chess master of life. They calculate everything, they analyze their next steps like they’re planning world domination, and they don’t move unless they’re absolutely 100% sure it’s the right decision.

They’re not the type to rush into things—whether it’s a relationship, a career move, or even a casual Friday night out ("What’s the vibe? Who all is gonna be there?"—yeah, they need to know first 💀). The Hanged Man energy tells me that they take their sweet time weighing all the options, and the 2 of Wands? That just screams "I’ve got a vision, and I’m making it happen."

They strategize, they plan, and when they commit, they COMMIT. They won’t be the type to rush into things, but the second they decide, "Yeah, this is my person," it’s game over for everyone else.

What this means for you? No confusion, no mixed signals – You will always know where you stand. They will plan your future together – And I mean, really plan it. This is the person who will randomly say, "Hey, do you want to move to Paris in five years? I’ve already looked into real estate options. They don’t do dumb drama – If problems come up, they handle them maturely and efficiently (and probably before you even notice). They are your safe place – Because their whole aura just screams "I got this, don’t worry."

This person is unbothered and calm 95% of the time. They have this aura of serenity and wisdom that makes you feel so at peace when you’re around them. But that 5%? That’s when they see someone messing with you, and suddenly, you realize... oh, they could actually destroy a person if they wanted to. 👀

You will feel SAFE and protected at all times – They’re not aggressive, but they are calculating AF. Anyone who disrespects you? They’re already mentally plotting the most strategic way to make that person regret their existence. You get the best of both worlds – A partner who is peaceful and chill, but also deadly if necessary. It’s like dating a hot mastermind who meditates but could also lead an army.

They will never embarrass you with childish fights – They know how to shut down drama with just one sentence ("That’s an interesting perspective. Too bad it’s wrong.") and keep it moving.

WHEW the most FICTIONAL PARTNER EVERRR. This is the type of love that makes people jealous because it’s just so stable, deep, and fulfilling. This person is smart, protective, emotionally intelligent, and devoted—honestly, what more could you ask for? 😭They are the calm before AND after the storm, the architect of your dream life, and the silent but deadly protector who will love you with the power of a thousand well-thought-out strategies. And let’s be real… dating them is basically winning at life.

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⊹₊⟡ Pile III

Hardworking & Devoted

Fearless in love

This pile is the MOST romantic of all three.

Ohhhh, you are about to marry someone who does NOT play when it comes to their goals.This is giving "I put in the time, I put in the effort, and I get RESULTS." Since they’re naturally hardworking and disciplined, they approach relationships with the same level of commitment and strategy they bring to their personal goals.

They’re not the kind of person who gets discouraged easily. If something takes time, they understand that’s just part of the process. They trust the grind, and they know that as long as they keep working, keep improving, and stay consistent, they will get to where they want to be. (The type to be in the gym every day, rain or shine, because discipline > motivation💀.) They’re insanely reliable—if they say they’ll do something, THEY WILL. They probably have a strong work ethic—career-driven, passionate, maybe even a little obsessed with self-improvement.You will never have to second-guess if they’re serious about you, because once they decide to invest in something (or someone 👀), they are in it for the long haul. This is the type of partner who builds an empire with you. This person has BIG main character energy—they embrace life with open arms and are always down for an adventure. They don’t get stuck in endless “what-ifs.” Instead, they’re like "Screw it, let’s do it."

Okay, so here’s the fun part—this person? Totally the type to act all logical and practical, but deep down? THEY ARE A SOFTIE. 😭

Hey do romantic things without realizing it – You’ll casually mention something you like once, and BOOM, two weeks later, they surprise you with it (and play it off like it’s no big deal). Sir/Ma’am, just admit you’re obsessed already.🤓 Their love language is thoughtful actions – Expect things like fixing something before you even ask, getting your coffee just the way you like it, or remembering the exact way you like your blanket tucked in at night. It’s the small details for them.

They have that “quiet but deep” love – They’re not the type to scream “I love you” in public, but the way they look at you, protect you, and always think of you first? UGH. Heart-melting levels of devotion. They are soft for YOU and YOU ONLY – The world sees them as chill, independent, and maybe even a little reserved… but the moment they’re with you? They turn into human teddy bear.

They’d never admit it, but you are their weakness, and honestly, That’s HOT.

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Thank you so much for reading all the way through! I hope my reading resonated with you and that you had a lovely time going through it. If you enjoyed it, please like and reblog—it really means a lot! Let me know which pile you chose; I absolutely love hearing your thoughts and feedback on my readings! If my reading resonated you, you may consider buying my paid reading as it would really help me out financially♡

Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not fixedly predict the future. this is a general reading so take what resonates!

[millers-angel]

patrol!joel x female reader

summary: joel scolds you because you messed up a patrol, until he makes you cry and realizes he crossed the line. warnings: scolding, mean joel, thumb sucking, smut ig, they get caught by tommy.

“are you stupid? you wanna die?” he grunted, clearly upset with you.

ha had been upset for a while, lecturing you on how you have to be more careful, but as he did, you both kept walking till you got inside the safe place—an abandoned house in the middle of the woods.

“i always have to repeat myself every goddamn time. stay quiet, do what i say, and most importantly, don't do anything stupid," he said, dropping his gear onto a table. "and that's exactly what you do."

you stayed quiet, holding back tears. you liked coming on patrols with him, except this time tommy came with you, but you fucked up. you didn’t listen, you put yourself in danger, and joel had to come find you—again.

he scoffed, shaking his head. “should’ve just left you out there. maybe then you’d finally learn.���

his words hit hard, and you felt your throat tighten, your vision blurring.

“you don’t listen, you never fucking listen,” he went on, voice rough with frustration. “i tell you to stay close, i tell you to stay quiet, and what do you do? the exact opposite. every goddamn time.”

he ran a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. “you think this is a game? you think i like risking my ass for you every time you decide to be reckless?”

you bit your lip, trying to keep it together, but the lump in your throat only grew. he was mad—really mad. you were looking at your boots wipping your tears away, you didn't want him to see you like this.

he exhaled hard through his nose, his breath heavy with frustration. his hands were on his hips, fingers digging into his belt as he tried to calm down. but when he looked down, he saw you sitting there on a worn couch, head bowed, your pants dotted with tiny dark spots.

tears.

his jaw clenched. maybe he’d been too harsh. maybe he’d gone too far.

“you good?” his voice was still rough, but quieter now.

you nodded quickly, wiping at your face.

“use your words,” he muttered. “now you're quiet, huh?”

you swallowed thickly, voice barely above a whisper. “i’m fine.”

he huffed, unconvinced. “look at me.”

you shook your head.

joel sighed, deep and slow, forcing himself to be patient. then, with a gentleness that didn’t match his earlier anger, he reached out, fingers curling under your chin, tilting your face up.

watercolor eyes. tear-streaked cheeks. swollen lips.

his grip tightened just slightly, his own frustration shifting into something else.

you sniffled, wiping at your nose with your sleeve, but it didn’t do much to stop the way your shoulders shook. joel exhaled, rubbing a hand over his beard. without a word, he grabbed you and pulled you onto his lap, his arms firm around you as he sat.

you didn’t resist. you never did.

“i’m sorry,” you murmured, voice unsteady. “i didn’t mean to put you at risk. or tommy. i won’t do it again.” you swallowed, fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket. “i get it if you don’t want me on patrols with you anymore. or if you just want to give me the easy routes.”

joel sighed, his chest rising and falling against your back.

“i tell you this shit for a reason,” he said, voice quieter now. “it’s dangerous out here. you keep acting like this, and it’s gonna catch up to you. and i don’t want that. i don’t want anything happening to you.”

you hesitated, then whispered, “really?”

“yeah, really.” his grip on you tightened just slightly. “i get so goddamn mad ‘cause you’re stubborn. you don’t listen. you scare the hell outta me.”

you were still new to patrols, still learning the way things worked out here. and you liked going with joel for two reasons—because you wanted to learn from him, to be as capable as he was, and because no matter how bad things got, no matter how much he yelled, it always ended the same way. with him pulling you close, keeping you safe... and his cock deep down inside you.

you loved being with joel on patrol, the way he moved with such ease, like he was made for this. every step was calculated, every decision precise. the way he handled the knife, the rifle—how it all seemed so natural to him, like he was in complete control. when danger came, he didn’t hesitate. he knew exactly what to do, and you couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly he commanded the situation.

and when things got tough, when he needed to push you out of harm’s way or pull you into cover, there was something about the way he manhandled you that drove you crazy. it was rough, but it was him taking control, keeping you safe. and in those moments, with his hands on you, you felt safe. you felt protected—like now.

you hiccupped, the sound shaky from how much you’d cried. joel’s thumb brushed your cheek, his hands gentle as he lifted your face to meet his eyes.

“i’m not gonna put you with anyone else,” he said softly. “we’re gonna keep going together, on patrols.”

you looked up at him, surprised. “really?”

“yeah, really,” he muttered, his voice a little rough. “i wouldn’t leave you with anyone else, not when you’re putting yourself at risk every damn minute. no one else is gonna risk their ass for you like i do.” he paused, a flash of frustration in his eyes before he noticed your lip trembling.

he softened, his thumb tracing your bottom lip, trying to calm you. “you’re damn stubborn, you know that?”

he pressed his thumb on your lips, parting them, so you sucked him. "that it," he said softly—too softly. "that's gonna calm you down."

you closed your eyes, holding his hand close to you, sucking his thumb as if your life depends on it, you pressed your tongue on it, lips tight around him. he loved the sensation, he loved when you sucked on his fingers just as you suck on his cock.

you opened your eyes when you felt a growing bulge beneath your thighs, meeting his gaze, all dark. nothing but desire behind them. he could yell at you all he wants—make you cry even, but you'll always end up like this.

his other hand made its way under your shirt, the feeling made you squirm. he played with the tip, squeezing it between his fingers, pulling it gently, getting muffled moans on his thumb in response.

and that was enough for him, he needed to fuck you now. he took his thumb out your mouth to tug your shirt over your head, your skin prickled when the breeze hit your bare breasts. he loved seeing thoes perky tips all hard for him. he got rid of your jeans too, throwing them somewhere in the dusty cabin.

"joel... we should go looking for tommy," you mumbled between gasps.

"he can take care of himself, i'm taking care of you."

he loved having you like this, all naked and vulnerable. he had fucked you behind a tree, over a rock, on the grass, in old cabins like this one, even in the back of an abandoned jeep, its wheels long deflated and covered in dust. he knows he's the only one who got to see you like this, back in jackson you're all shy with everyone, they don't know you're his personal little sex toy.

he made you stand up for him to unzip his jeans and then, he made you lean over the coach, while you positioned yourself on your hands and knees, you knew the drill, you knew what he liked. what he liked to see.

by god he loved the view.

all you felt then, was his dick trailing your slit, you were wet, and he can tell you got a while like that. you love being scolded, the tone of his voice, the way his eyes gets dark, the way you know it's because he wants to protect you. yeah, it got you wet.

he slammed his cock in you, you let out a gasp and gripped to the backrest of the couch. he dug his fingers on your hips when he thrusted. you were warm, too warm and soft inside, always making him feel like he's about to come as soon as he gets in, like a goddamn teenager.

"you take this cock so good," he muttered.

you were biting your lip to not moan, cause you had to be careful, right? he said it. you must be careful from now on.

"lemme hear you, baby," he grunted, fingers going white from his grip on you.

your grip on the couch loosened. "b-but you said we must be quiet and careful—"

he almost chuckled, you're adorable. "i don't want you quiet when i'm fucking you"

and his approval was all you need to let those breathy little moans bubble up from your mouth. he went harder, couldn’t stop once he saw how your skin jiggled with every thrust. he loved that.

he was leaving his fingerprints on your skin. one of his hands slipped between your thighs, making its way to your clit. you held your breath. he could feel it, swollen, probably aching and needy. he drew circles around it.

“poor baby,” he cooed, your legs trembled cause it was too much, he was too thick, and his fingers stroking your most sensitive spot, you went weak. “you like causing trouble?”

he pressed his fingers on your clit, feeling how it throbs. “no—“

he slapped it. “be fucking honest.”

you squirmed, it felt too good. “i do.” you admitted in a moan. “i like causing trouble.”

he rubbed the little button harder. “i know," of course he does, weird thing you always do the same to end up with his cock buried deep inside you. you love being trouble so he can fuck you right after. "stubborn as hell."

you curl your toes, his fingers worked so good, he sent you to a bliss, your walls choking him. he wasn't being gentle. he loved seeing you falling apart, seeing your legs get weak.

"joel, please—" you cried out.

"this mine, yeah?" you. you're his. "you ain't goin' on patrols with anyone but me, understood?"

you whimpered. "ah—yes."

he let out a chuckle, delighted to see you like this. he knows you're his, but he likes to remind you.

"i'm gonna get you all round so everyone in town knows you're mine too." his hand drifted to your belly. "right here."

he moved his hand a little lower just enough to feel himself, stretching you out. "attagirl," he cooed. "come f'me."

you fell apart beneath him, your body squirming, trembling legs, spasming walls that milked him out, but he didn't stop thrusting, not until he was sure you were filled up.

the cabin was a bunch of whimpering from both of you.

until…

the door swung open. you’ve been caught.

by tommy.

he had been looking for you since you didn’t show up to the meeting point they have in case something happened—so he came looking for you, thinking the worst, it’s been a while and he’s exhausted, sweating. he should be upset because you made him worry and waste his time when all you were doing was fucking.

but more than upset he was… aroused. the quiet girl he knew back in town wasn’t being that quiet and shy right now. the quiet girl loved having a cock buried inside her.

he had to adjust his jeans before coming further. “what the fuck is this?” he asked.

your face went pale and you tried to cover yourself but it was pointless—joel didn’t let you. he knew his brother well enough.

“‘s this what you’ve been doing? you have an idea how many time i’ve been looking for you? you—“

“cut the shit tommy,” joel growled.

“so this is the quiet girl from jackson, huh?” he leaned, fingers on your jaw, making you look at him. your lip was trembling.

joel pulled out with a loud pop sound, his cum dripping from your cunt, your thighs all sticky with the mess you made.

"you're gonna explain?" tommy asked to his brother, but not letting go his grip on your jaw, you were curling your toes, being in the middle of the miller brothers always got you nervous. "is she your

"she's mine," joel said firmly. "but i'm sure she wants you to fill her up, don't you sweetheart?"

you nodded, holding eye contact with tommy, then your eyes drifted to the bulge on his pants.

"she can be our secret."

[snufkinsnogger]

Why does this sound familiar..

Zelenskyy: You want us to be polite to someone who has been dishonest and unreliable? You don't honestly think Putin is going to agree to anything that allows us to keep existing, do you?

Trump: I mean, you don't really have a choice. You're backed into a corner.

Zelenskyy: Yeah, and you helped him back us there! Telling us we may as well just give up.

Vance: Well honestly, you should be grateful that we didn't go as hard on you as Putin did.

Zelenskyy: Grateful? Putin has been kicking me and you have him the steel tied boots to do it! I'll be grateful when Russia leavese me alone.

Hegseth: Be so for right now, what are we gonna do?? We can only do so much.

Zelenskyy: So Russia can just do whatever it wants? You're not even going to try and reason? Hold it back?

Trump: You're being really emotional right now.

Zelenskyy: We don't just roll over and take this shit. We fight back.

Vance: You can't defend yourself forever.

Zelenskyy: It's fight or die. I just want to know if America is going have my back or just let it happen.

Just wanted to write this as what it is, which is essentially bullying/abuse. See how this sounds when in the context of people and see how it sounds exactly like somebody being assaulted and someone else with power just standing by and watching, helping it even. America and Russia are bullies. Abusers. What the fuck happened to us?

the transcript btw. It was hard to make it out on the video because of the blowhards yelling and me feeling incandescently blind and deaf with rage

oh, to have a leader with the moral fiber and strong backbone that Zelenskyy has

[oopsiedaisydeer]

ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍɪᴛʜꜱ

…𝘪𝘯 ���𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵 𝘢𝘯���� 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘢

fluff, kissing, tiktok trend, established relationship, soft!matt but he won't admit it, goofy, idiots in love

requested by @applecidersturniolo !

word count - 700ish

You’re sitting cross-legged on Matt’s bed, holding your phone up for him to see. He’s half-sprawled out next to you, scrolling through his own phone like he’s not that interested, but you can tell he is.

“Do you wanna do this trend with me?” you ask, nudging his arm.

Matt glances over, barely lifting his head. “What trend?”

You flip your phone around, pressing play on the 500 Days of Summer audio. He watches, brows furrowing slightly as it plays. Then, the couple on the screen lunge at each other, kissing so hard they fall out of frame.

Matt’s eyes flick back to you, unreadable for a second. Then, he snorts. “Wait. So we just say the lines and then, like… violently make out?”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “It’s romantic, Matt.”

“Uh-huh.” He’s fighting back a grin now, still acting like he’s above it. “And we have to disappear out of frame?”

“Yes.”

Matt exhales through his nose, staring at you like he’s already regretting agreeing to this. But then he sets his phone down, stretches his arms over his head, and mutters, “Alright. Let’s make some cinema.”

Take one.

The camera is propped up, slightly off-center, the lighting warm and dim. You try to keep a straight face, turning toward him.

“I love The Smiths.”

Matt stares at you blankly.

“Matt,” you whisper, nudging his leg.

He blinks. “Oh, wait. Sorry?”

You dissolve into laughter, covering your mouth. “You’re supposed to say it, not actually be confused.”

Matt groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Okay, okay. Again.”

Take two.

“I love The Smiths.”

“Sorry?”

“I said—”

Before you can even finish, Matt lunges at you. No warning, no hesitation, just full-on crashes into you, completely messing up the timing. You yelp, hands flying up to steady yourself as you both fall out of frame way too soon, almost falling off the bed as you knock the phone also.

The camera catches nothing but the ceiling and a blur of movement.

Silence.

Matt groans, “That was terrible.”

You’re already wheezing, clutching your stomach. “Matt, we looked insane.”

He smiles at you, kissing you anyway before flopping onto his back, staring at the ceiling. “Maybe we are.”

Take three.

This time, you’re focused. You inhale, make sure Matt is actually ready.

“I love The Smiths.”

“Sorry?”

“I said—I love The Smiths.”

And then, perfectly on cue, you both lean in, slow at first—teasing, just the briefest brush of lips, the softest press before you feel the heat of Matt’s breath.

And then, without warning, Matt pulls you in harder, a bit desperate, the kiss deepening immediately. His hands find their way to your hair, tugging you closer as his lips move against yours with a softness that surprises you.

You gasp against his mouth, hands gripping the front of his shirt, and for a second, it feels like it’s just the two of you in this quiet room. The kiss is hungry now, full of little moments that have led up to this, a little bit of teasing, a little bit of need, the world fading away as the kiss intensifies, pulling you off the edge of the bed in the process.

As you both fall, tangled in each other, you end up just out of frame, your bodies twisting as you kiss with the kind of urgency that makes everything feel perfect.

The last shot is just the empty bed, a lamp flickering softly in the background. You shuffle in Matt’s grasp, trying to get closer as he continues kissing you, pulling you even further into him.

When he finally pulls away, breathless, his forehead rests against yours for just a moment before he pulls back slightly, a small smile curling at his lips.

"Was that too much?"

And obviously, when you post it, the comments explode.

“They practiced this. I know they practiced this.” “This is EXACTLY how the trend is supposed to be done.” “Matt looking at her. Stop im so single” “The way he’s definitely watching this back 50 times.”

And Matt? He acts chill, like he doesn’t care that much, but later, when you glance at his phone, you catch a glimpse of the video playing again.

Just once. Maybe twice.

credits to rose for the dividers !! @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: some more fluff even though i am anti-fluff this kinda made me smile jsdkhfksjh

taglist: @blushsturns @sturnslutz @snoopychris @sturnshood @sturns-mermaid @chrissweetheart @cowboylikenat @sturnsrecordfaves @camzeecorner @sturniolo101 @courta13 @sweetshuga

[gf2bellamy]

Hello!

Can I please request domestic fluff of Spencer and reader just chilling on the couch and reading and reader is just giggling because she got to a fluffy romantic part of her book and she can’t contain her fangirling so Spencer just looks at her with fondness like “omg I love her so much 🥰”

cozy — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: literally just pure fluff a/n: hiii !! hope you like this <33333

Spencer sat on the couch, his long fingers absentmindedly carding through your hair as you rested your head in his lap, both of you lost in your books.

Spencer was fully immersed in a dense book on quantum physics, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration. Meanwhile, you were curled up with a well-loved romance novel.

The silence between you was a comfortable one, filled only by the occasional sound of a page turning or the subtle rustling of clothing as one of you shifted.

Then , something in your book made you giggle.

Spencer's fingers momentarily paused in your hair, his attention now fully on you. His lips curled into a small, affectionate smile as he watched you, so engrossed in the words on the page that you hadn’t even realized you'd laughed out loud.

The warmth that bloomed in his chest was immediate, filling him with a kind of quiet adoration he never quite knew how to put into words.

Without thinking, he let his hand drift from your hair to your cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. The gentle touch pulled you from your trance, and you blinked up at him.

“What?” you asked, still smiling as your eyes met his.

Spencer shook his head slightly, his gaze lingering on yours, soft and full of affection. “Nothing,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. Then, as if the words had been sitting on the tip of his tongue, waiting for the right moment, he added, “I love you. You know that, right?”

The confession, though not new, still sent a rush of warmth through you. You felt your cheeks heat up, the blush creeping from your neck upward as you fumbled for a response.

With a shy smile, you mumbled a quiet, “I love you too.”

Spencer’s grin widened, his thumb tracing over your cheek once more before his hand returned to your hair, resuming its gentle motions.

You moved your eyes back to your book, but you couldn’t focus. The words blurred together, your mind still caught on the way he’d looked at you, the way his voice had softened when he said those three words.

After a moment, you gave up and looked up at him again, sitting up from his lap and turning your body to face him fully.

Spencer put his book aside, his full attention now on you. His head tilted slightly, a curious smile playing on his lips as he waited for you to speak.

“You,” you pointed your finger at him, trying to suppress a grin, “just ruined the moment.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow, his playful tone returning. “I ruined the moment by telling you that I love you?”

“Yes,” you nodded emphatically, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your mock seriousness.

He chuckled softly, leaning back against the couch cushions as he crossed his arms. “And what ,exactly, did I ruin ?”

You hesitated, your cheeks flushing again as you glanced down at the closed book in your lap. “It’s… it’s nothing.”

“Clearly, it’s not nothing,” he pressed, his tone curious. “You laughed, and then I ruined the moment. I think I deserve to know what was so funny.”

You bit your lip, debating whether to tell him. It felt silly now, saying it out loud, but the way he was looking at you—with genuine interest —made it impossible to resist.

“Fine,” you relented, sighing dramatically. “There was this part in the book where the male character was recounting all these little habits and quirks about the female character. Like, the way she always tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s nervous, or how she hums when she’s concentrating. It was just… really sweet. And it made me laugh because it was so cute.”

Spencer listened intently, his head tilting slightly as he absorbed your words. When you finished, a slow smile spread across his face, and his eyes sparkled with mischief.

“So,” he began, his voice teasing but tender, “you’re telling me that you got all giggly because the character was listing small, endearing things about the person he loves?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “It sounds so cheesy when you say it like that.”

He laughed softly, reaching out to gently pull your hands away from your face. “I don’t think it’s cheesy. In fact…” He paused, his expression softening as his gaze locked onto yours. “I could do the same thing about you.”

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head quickly. “No, no, you don’t have to—”

But he was already speaking, his voice warm and steady. “You always bite your lip when you’re trying not to laugh. And you have this habit of tapping your fingers against whatever surface is nearby when you’re deep in thought. Oh, and you hum under your breath when you’re cooking, even though you’re completely off-key.”

You stared at him, your mouth slightly open as a mix of embarrassment and affection washed over you. “Spencer…”

He continued, undeterred. “You twirl your hair around your finger when you’re deep in thought. Oh, and you get this little crease between your eyebrows when you’re reading something intense. And you-”

“Okay, okay,” you interrupted, laughing softly. “You’re going to make me blush even more than I already am.”

Spencer chuckled, the sound warm. He gently intertwined his fingers with yours. “I’m just saying,” he said, his voice teasing but tender, “if the moment was ruined, it’s only because I wanted to make a new one.”

You looked at him, your heart so full it felt like it might burst. “You’re ridiculous,” you said, your voice thick with emotion.

“Ridiculously yours,” he corrected, his smile softening.

“Yeah,” you whispered, as you squeezed his hand.

And in that moment, with his hands in yours and his ridiculous, over-the-top declarations still echoing in your mind, you couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.

[thehoneybeestings]

Arcane Actor Au's - Actor!Sevika x Actor! Reader

Word Count: 2k

Content/Warnings: sfw, arcane au in which they're all actors starring in the show, softttt sevika, loser!sevika if you squint, actress!reader, reader is fem/referred to with fem terms and pronouns

A/N: i am sure i'm not the only one who likes to imagine that every character in arcane is simply an actor, and they were simply acting; not actually experiencing the tragedy they cannot seem to catch a damn break from... so, without further ado, here is this first installment of this series!

as per the poll i posted, sevika will be first, and vi is up next!

Love, Bee ୨ৎ

Nina Singh as Sevika

୨ৎ You’re an up-and-coming actress, with Arcane being your debut television series

୨ৎ The audition process was no easy feat; after its first two seasons’ massive success, it was clear that Arcane’s casting directors were looking for the best of the best, and you were up against some intense competition

୨ৎ Some of which were were a-listers, so naturally, you had your moments of doubt, assuming that there was no way you were beating any of them out

୨ৎ You persevered anyhow, due mostly to the genuine love you had found for the character you were auditioning for: Evette, a prodigy mechanical engineer from Zaun who lands herself an internship with Hextech Labs. 

୨ৎ Her story consists of the tragic loss of her parents at the hands of enforcers, unyielding ambition driven by the desire to honor her late parents, and of course, one of the yummiest sapphic slow burns on television to date

୨ৎ You’re sure this slow burn is the main reason why so many actresses scrambled to land this role, and you couldn’t really blame them

୨ৎ Nina Singh was irrevocably and undeniably one the hottest people in existence, playing Sevika, one of the hottest characters in existence

୨ৎ This made for some very awkward chemistry tests between Nina and a few potential Evettes; actresses focusing so much on trying to seduce Sevika that at times, Nina felt like she was shooting the intro to some shitty porno

୨ৎ Then came you: one of the finalists for the role of Evette, unbeknownst to you 

୨ৎ You’re a nervous wreck in front of Nina- she’s an a-lister herself- and even still, your ability to embody Evette and bring the depths and nuances of her relationship with Sevika to life leaves the room taken aback

୨ৎ You’ll never forget the day of your chemistry test; you’re exchanging the final lines of the short scene you’re given to perform with Nina, heart pounding in  your chest

୨ৎ “Not getting any younger,” Nina gruffs in character, nodding towards your tedious work tightening the loose bolt on her arm, “and I’d rather not spend more time with a Piltie than I have to.”

୨ৎ Nina’s got a prosthetic arm in real life, so there’s actually a little bolt she lets you toy with for the scene

୨ৎ “If you want to leave with your arm short-circuting, be my guest,” you sigh, “but I don’t do sloppy work.” Your eyes flit up to hers for a moment- just until she catches you staring- before you continue tinkering with her arm. “And for the record,” you say, finally leaning back to admire your handiwork, “I’m not from Piltover.”

୨ৎ Nina’s brows furrow in confusion for a split second before she conceals her interest with Sevika’s typical scowl. “You didn’t tell me that.”

୨ৎ You smirk, looking up at her through your eyelashes. “You didn’t ask.” 

୨ৎ “Jesus,” the director calls out, “You two… I mean, the chemistry is palpable. Exactly what I'd envisioned. What do you think, Nina?”

୨ৎ You feel shy under her knowing smirk

୨ৎ “I think we’ve got our Evette.”

୨ৎ “Yeah?” The director responds with a smile, “What do you think, Y/n? How would you like to join us for season three of Arcane?”

୨ৎ Frankly, you almost shit yourself in front of the entire room

୨ৎ Thankfully, you’re able to keep it together and accept the role like a normal person; and now, here you are, three years later, and Arcane fans are obsessed with you

୨ৎ Even more than they’re obsessed with you, they’re obsessed with you and Nina 

୨ৎ Your character is a catalyst for the well-deserved, long overdue exploration of Sevika’s character and her vulnerabilities, and you and Nina are so invested in your characters that the bond you develop while filming inevitably goes beyond screen

୨ৎ At first, you’re wildly intimidated by her; she’s a renowned actress who’d been in the industry for a while, most known for roles similar to Sevika: guarded, icy, domineering

୨ৎ You’re quite tickled (and pleasantly surprised) to learn that Nina is the exact opposite

୨ৎ As soon as cut is called, she’s breaking into a smile, cracking a joke, or praising you for your performance

୨ৎ After particularly heavy or intense scenes, though, her expression tends to remain serious, and her focus isn’t on anyone but you until she knows you're all good

୨ৎ There’s one scene in particular- one where Sevika’s ripping into Evette- that Nina still feels bad about

୨ৎ It’s the first scene she thinks of when a journalist asks which scene from season three was the hardest to film

୨ৎ “I hate having to yell at her,” she says. “I can’t stand it; and you saw her bring on the tears- man, it broke my freakin’ heart!” 

୨ৎ You reach over to rub circles in between her shoulder blades, playfully rolling your eyes

୨ৎ “Poor baby,” you say, sticking your bottom lip out in a mocking pout

୨ৎ “So I take it Sevika’s disposition is much different than Nina’s?” The journalist inquires

୨ৎ “Oh, 100%,” you nod, “Apart from the RBF, Nina is a softie. I’ve never seen her angry.”

୨ৎ “I’m not a softie,” she mutters, resting her chin in her hand, “and what is RBF?”

୨ৎ “Resting Bitch Face,” you say in tandem with the journalist

୨ৎ She lets out a loud laugh, doubling over in her seat

୨ৎ It’s after this interview that fans begin to pick up on some… not-so-platonic energy between you and Nina

୨ৎ Nina is very sweet, yes, but she’s also very shy

୨ৎ But it seems that whenever she’s around you, she’s much more comfortable, coming out of her shell more than ever

୨ৎ Thus prompts the compilations 

୨ৎ “Nina Singh and Y/n Y/l/n being in love for 12 minutes and 54 seconds”

୨ৎ “Every time Nina manages to make the conversation about Y/n compilation”

୨ৎ “Take a shot every time Y/n makes Nina blush challenge: extreme”

୨ৎ But there are three moments in particular that fans can’t get enough of:

୨ৎ 1. The forever immortalized moment where you made Nina blush during a red carpet event

୨ৎ It wasn’t abnormal for the two of you to be paired for most press appearances, considering that your characters were a package deal in season 3, so you’re not surprised when you’re being photographed on the red carpet at the season premier and the photographers want a shot of you two together

୨ৎ “Let’s get some of the two of you, yeah?” the line of photographers begin to call out

୨ৎ Your hand reaches out for Nina- who’s a few feet away, getting her own photos taken- and she quickly slots next to you, arm wrapping around to hold your waist

୨ৎ Her fingers comb through her hair; once, twice, a third time

୨ৎ “My hair won’t stay out of my damn face,” she grumbles

୨ৎ Suddenly, you’re turning to her, reaching up to tuck the stray tendril of raven hair behind her ear and brushing back any other stray pieces

୨ৎ “Better?” You ask, turning back to the cameras like nothing had happened

୨ৎ You don’t notice that she’s acting like a total loser now; all fidgety and shy and awkward

୨ৎ In fact, she gets so bashful that her hand comes up to hide her face

୨ৎ And, of course, who wouldn’t photograph a moment so adorable?

୨ৎ She’s forever haunted by the circulation of her photographed schoolgirl crush freak out

୨ৎ 2. The one and only time she’s ever gone Sevika on someone in real life; and it was to defend you 

୨ৎ You’re sitting on your very first panel at a popular convention, as star-struck by the sea of fans in front of you as they are by the actors and actresses in front of them

୨ৎ This was the most pressure you’d felt during the press tour yet; being interviewed in real time in front of the show’s biggest supporters, answering questions from the show’s biggest supporters

୨ৎ Luckily, the crowd had been great so far

୨ৎ (You’re also sat in between Nina, who always eases your nerves, and Ekko’s actor, who you definitely shouldn’t have been seated next to because all you two do is cut up smh)

୨ৎ Until, a perturbed fan has a question for Nina

୨ৎ “I heard that Natalia Richmond was in the running for the role of Evette; I’m a big fan of both of your work, and I was honestly a little bummed to hear that she wouldn’t be starring alongside you. Not that Y/n didn’t do a good job, but do you wonder what Evette’s character could have looked like if someone else had gotten to take a stab at the character?”

୨ৎ The room falls silent

୨ৎ Your ears burn with embarrassment, and on instinct, you look over to Nina, whose jaw is set

୨ৎ She lowers her mic, turning her head to you with a scoff

୨ৎ “Are you fucking kidding me?”

୨ৎ The crowd lets out an awkward laugh; her mic had picked up her grievance 

୨ৎ Not that she gave a fuck

୨ৎ “Well,” she exhales, bringing the mic back up to her mouth, “truthfully, I don’t think Y/n did a good job. I think she did an incredible job.”

୨ৎ Your breath hitches in your throat

୨ৎ Her voice is stern, assertive; and for the first time since you’ve known her, Nina Singh is pissed

୨ৎ “I wouldn’t have been able to deliver the performance I wanted to this season without her. Sevika’s character arc would not have been executed as well as it was if i’d worked alongside anyone but the woman to my right; so no, I do not wonder what Evette’s character would have looked like if she weren’t played by Y/n, and I haven’t wondered since the day we had our chemistry test.”

୨ৎ With that, she sets the mic down, leaning back and crossing her arms in front of her with a scowl still on her face

୨ৎ The crowd gives her an applause- thankfully, the majority of Arcane’s fans adored you and could not have pictured the Arcane universe without you- and you lean over, giving Nina a “Thank you” and a squeeze on her arm

୨ৎ “Don’t mention it,” she shrugs; and at the sight of the warm smile on your face, she’s a giant teddy bear again

୨ৎ 3. The time you and Nina casually dropped that you’re basically U-Haul Lesbians

୨ৎ You two are setting up for an interview, and the camera is already rolling as your makeup artists powder your faces and your mics are adjusted

୨ৎ The footage starts in the middle of an idle conversation with the journalist

୨ৎ “So you hadn’t heard of RBF until then?” she asks

୨ৎ “I must be getting old,” she shrugs. She gives the makeup artist a soft “Thanks” as they walk away before she continues. “I hadn’t heard that phrase a day in my life; although I had heard that I’m a little unapproachable.”

୨ৎ You chuckle to yourself, thinking of the first time you met Nina; she does tend to sport a furrowed brow, but as soon as she speaks, she’s as kind as can be

୨ৎ “I didn’t think you liked me when we first met,” you muse 

୨ৎ “Oh, well you were right that time. I don’t like you.” 

୨ৎ You all burst out into a fit of laughter 

୨ৎ Anyone who knew of Nina knew of her affection for you

୨ৎ “Right, that’s why we're roomates; because you hate me so much,” you chuckle.

୨ৎ “Exactly- ‘s why we took in a stray cat, too, because who does that with someone they like?"

୨ৎ The journalist is now looking at both of you, gobsmacked

୨ৎ “You mean to tell me you two are living together and took in a stray cat together?”

୨ৎ Cluelessly, you both look to each other, then back to the journalist

୨ৎ “Yeah,” you smile, nodding innocently

୨ৎ “So you two are basically married…” 

୨ৎ Nina snorts, and you giggle, and you both agree

୨ৎ And that night, when you’re both back at home, Nina finally asks:

୨ৎ “Well, since we’re basically married, are you gonna let me take you out to dinner?”

୨ৎ Bonus: 

୨ৎ Yes, there was a sex scene

୨ৎ No, the two of you did not hear the director say cut

୨ৎ Tweets below… enjoy.

End ୨ৎ

[tucsonhorse]

Another strategy to try, which works for me a lot of the time, is to break what you need to do down into microsteps and start with just the *tiniest* movement towards your goal.

So like I'll be sitting on the couch because I need to shower and scrolling through Tumblr and mentally shouting at myself GO SHOWER NOW and it's doing no good and just making me more frustrated. So I realize I'm stuck and think "okay, what *exactly* do I need to do?".

Close Tumblr

Turn off phone screen

Remove blanket from lap

Stand up

Usually that's as far in the plan as I need to think, but on bad days that goes all the way to "check water temperature, step into shower".

If I'm super stuck, I take that first step "close Tumblr' and break it down even further into "move finger, press home button, DO NOT open Tumblr". Then I focus on just the veeeery first step: move my finger. Moving my finger is totally easy (I think) I can do that. It does usually take me another minute or so because my brain is fighting me about "it's not just moving the finger, there are so many other things" while I keep telling it that we just need to move a finger. But then...I move my finger! And momentum is started!

I usually have to consciously work through those first few steps. Move the finger. Press the home button. DO NOT reopen Tumblr. Turn the screen off. Remove blanket... and suddenly it's like my brain realizes we're in the middle of a task and goes "oh, okay" and I don't need to consciously tell myself any more and the steps just start happening. I DO need to have thought through the steps, but I only need to force the first 1 to 3/4 and that takes so much less mental energy than trying to convince my brain to do the whole process of "take a shower".

executive dysfunction is telling yourself for two and a half hours that you need to shower bc you smell like your workplace and you absolutely Cannot do Anything Else until you shower, doing Any Other Thing before showering is illegal!!! but you still haven’t for some reason??? you’ve just been sitting on your bed in a towel scrolling tumblr for 2+ hours thinking “I need to shower right now immediately” and growing increasingly frustrated that you are still not clean and you haven’t eaten or done your laundry either

[ghast1yghosts]

Eddie’s back hits the wall and Steve crowds into his space, never breaking their feverish kiss. Steve’s hand gently comes to cup his cheek while the other presses on the small of his back, arching Eddie’s spine to touch up against the hard line of his body.

Barely parting, Eddie’s shallow intake of air gets cut off again by the sinfully plush and slick lips, quickly passing his own to lick into his his mouth.

He doesn’t know where to put his hands—they end up bunched in Steve’s hair.

Gripping tighter on the short strands as the thumb on his face ghosts down to push his chin up. A lewd pop sounds when those lips leave and start trailing down the curve of his jaw, teasing their way down his neck only stopping when its found its mark.

Eddie drops his head back to the wall with a soft groan, basking in the overwhelming presence and feeling of SteveSteveSteve that will always feel all too consuming.

“Steve…” He can’t help the small whimper escaping.

Lips leave their place and hands cup the sides of his face.

“Hey. Hey, Eds. You okay?” Bleary and confused as to why Steve stopped, Eddie blinks his eyes open to look at the concerned expression on his face.

“W- Yeah—“ He clears his throat a little, “Yeah, I’m fine, Steve.” The man just looks at him, reading his expression carefully and quietly searching for any signs of discomfort.

Then what just happened it hits him dead on.

Eddie closes his eyes and drops his head slightly.

“Please tell me you didn’t pick that up,” he winces.

He’s met with silence and risks peeking at Steve, and then watches as realization dawns on his face followed by a snarky grin that splits his face, a laugh on the edge of it.

“Yep. You bet we fuckin got that Munson,” the camera operator calls from the side of the set. They send Steve into a fit of hysterics and Eddie shoves him back a step.

God damnit, it was the second take at least and not the first.

“Fucking Chri— We’re deleting that and forgetting this ever happened.” Steve’s laughter rings throughout the 3 sided room, “I swear to go this does leave this set.”

“Hey, at least you were convincing.” It’s the goddamn *director* this time. This is mortifying.

“Can it. You try kissin this guy and see if you remember your fuckin name.”

They raise their hands, “Sounds like a good deal to me—don’t have to ask me twice.” Eddie just shakes his head at the antics.

This wasn’t exactly how he thought the 6th day of filming for his “big acting debut” would go, but given the circumstances, he can’t necessarily be disappointed either.

His fellow cast and crew haven’t been anything less than amazing and accommodating. They’re all so passionate about the film, it’s indescribably enthralling to be apart of.

He smiles when Steve finally catches his breath, raising his hands to cup his face again, and gives him a chaste kiss—more smile than lips.

—

This is a possible sequel scenario from my Unwritten Fame AU: starting Rockstar Eddie and Actor Steve, whom have been dating for years, but only recently came out as a couple to the public.

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔 𝗣𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗞𝗘𝗗!! lando norris x  fem! girlfriend! reader (fluff) fic summary . . . because why wouldn't you prank your boyfriend?

( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests )

You stretch, a lazy smile on your face as you glance over at Lando. He’s still lying in bed, propped up on his elbows, catching his breath, but his eyes are glued to you with the most intense, bewildered look on his face.

You had just finished a vigorous round of sex, and now . . . well, now it was time for a little fun.

You slowly swing your legs over the side of the bed, making sure to deliberately ignore Lando’s wide, panicked eyes. You grab a random shirt from the floor, straighten it, fold it, and toss it into the laundry basket, all the while acting like absolutely nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

You walk across the room, tidying up, folding the blanket on the chair, and fluffing up a pillow like it's just a regular day.

Lando’s staring at you in absolute horror, mouth hanging open. He shifts on the bed, his entire posture stiffening like he’s trying to figure out what kind of alternate universe this is.

Finally, after a few agonizing minutes, he speaks. His voice is tight, unsure. “Yn . . . ?”

You turn casually, still not looking at him. “Yeah?”

“Are . . . Are you, uh . . . Are you just gonna . . . clean up? Like nothing happened?”

You finally turn to look at him, and that’s when you see the panic and anxiety in his eyes—the dread written across his face. His hands, which were nervously playing with the sheets, suddenly drop to his lap.

Wait . . .

You suddenly feel a little guilty.

He looks like someone who’s just been told the world’s ending. There’s no denying it: the man’s face is full of genuine concern.

Lando hesitates, his voice barely a whisper. “Yn, was it . . . bad? Am I that bad that . . . you’re just gonna go, you know, clean up instead of . . . cuddle? Or, you know, do some aftercare?”

Your stomach does a little flip, your heart softening at the sight of him, still lying there like he’s been rejected in the worst way possible. You realize exactly how horrible your little prank might have seemed to him.

You walk back to the bed, your face suddenly more serious, and crawl onto the mattress, straddling him. Lando’s eyes are still wide, like he’s waiting for you to tell him the worst news of his life.

“Babe,” you say softly, cupping his face in your hands. “You know I love you, right?”

He nods quickly, still looking terrified. “Y-Yeah, but you just . . . You looked so casual, and I thought I…” He trails off, clearly too embarrassed to finish his sentence.

“Lando,” you say gently, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “I wasn’t ignoring you. I was just pranking you.”

His eyes widen, clearly confused. “A prank?”

You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. “Yeah, a prank. I wanted to see if you’d freak out because you thought I was too busy to cuddle.”

For a moment, Lando doesn’t say anything. Then, after a beat, he groans and flops back against the pillow, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“You’re a menace,” he mutters, clearly both relieved and embarrassed at once.

You smile, running your fingers through his hair. “But you love me.”

Lando sighs dramatically. “I don’t know. After that stunt? Maybe I should rethink that.”

“Oh please, you know you’re obsessed with me,” you tease, pressing your body closer to his.

He lifts his hand to look at you, raising an eyebrow. “I’m obsessed with cuddles and aftercare, actually.”

You chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Well, then let’s get to that.”

Lando grins mischievously. “I was thinking more of revenge.” He smirked, flipping you over and hooking your knee above his shoulder.

[lilianne-tarot]

PICK A CARD: Your Sweetest & Most Lovable Qualities ✮⋆˙

I. II. III.

How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images above. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you—go ahead and read both!

If you enjoyed this reading, get your own personalized paid reading here!😊🦋

My KO-FI link: HERE 🫶🏻

MY MASTERLIST🫶🏻

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　˚　.　　　　　 . ✦

⋆𐙚₊˚Pile I

So, we’ve got, Yeah, I know big cards for a topic about your most endearing qualities. Oh, and before we go any further—let me just say this. I couldn’t pull more than three cards for this pile for some reason. To me, that’s the universe saying, This is it. This is all they need to know. This is the energy of someone who has lived, felt, and somehow turned all the chaos of life into something beautiful, tender, and deeply lovable. But that’s exactly what makes this reading so powerful. You’re not someone whose sweetness is obvious on the surface.

This pile is the softest in a "you don’t even realize how powerful your love is" kind of way.

listen, if these cards were in a different context, I’d be holding your hand and whispering, “Babe, brace yourself,” but here? These two cards are telling me that your most lovable quality is how you handle endings, transformations, and straight-up life-altering moments. You don’t cling when things need to be let go. You don’t fear the crumbling because you know something better is waiting to be built. And that? That’s what makes people soft for you. There’s something heartbreakingly tender about a person who has seen destruction but still chooses to believe in new beginnings. You give off this aura of quiet strength—like someone who’s been through the fire but still keeps their hands warm enough to comfort others. People feel safe with you, not because life is always stable around you (The Tower says otherwise, babe), but because you’ve shown time and time again that no matter how much things collapse, you will always rebuild. And let’s talk about how unexpectedly comforting you are. You’re not the person who hands out surface-level advice like “everything happens for a reason” (ugh, no). You’re the one who sits with people in their mess, in their heartbreak, in their uncertainty, and just exists with them, without judgment. And somehow, through your presence alone, you make people believe that they, too, will get through it. (OMG PILE 1, i wanna give you people such a big hug 😭😭 I seriously felt like crying while writing this pile, the energies were so heavy yet so soft) See, your kindness isn’t loud. It’s not the type that announces itself in grand gestures or obvious ways. It’s the kind that sneaks up on people. The kind that makes someone pause one day and think, “Wow, I didn’t even realize how much I needed them.” You don’t just offer stability—you are stability. Not because your life is always in order (again, The Tower says you’ve had your fair share of chaos), but because you know how to find steadiness even in uncertainty. You’re like a lighthouse in the storm, always there, always steady, guiding people home without needing to be asked. And people adore this about you. There’s something profoundly lovable about someone who makes others feel grounded without even trying. Whether it’s through your words, your actions, or just the way you carry yourself, you give people a sense of belonging. You’re not the kind of person who opens up easily, and that’s part of what makes your sweetness so special.

You don’t hand out trust like free samples at a store. No, honey, people have to work for it. And when they do? They’re met with something so rare—loyalty, unwavering support, and a kind of love that says, “I will stand by you even when everything else falls apart.” And that? That makes people soft for you in a way that’s hard to put into words. People may not always realize it at first, but once they do, they never forget you. You’re the kind of person whose absence is felt. The kind of person who, once someone has experienced your presence, nothing else quite measures up.

So, to sum this all up? Your most endearing, lovable qualities aren’t the kind that everyone immediately recognizes. You’re not “sweet” in the conventional, sunshine-and-rainbows way. You’re sweet in the way that a person feels when they’ve finally found home after being lost for so long. You’re sweet in the way that endings feel bittersweet but necessary. You’re sweet in the way that rebirth always holds a quiet kind of hope. And that? That’s a kind of sweetness that can’t be replicated.

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⋆𐙚₊˚Pile II

Alright, bestie, let’s get into Pile 2 because this reading? Oh, it’s personal. VERY PERSONAL.

So, looking at Four of Cups, Queen of Pentacles, Five of Pentacles, and The Sun, I’m getting such a specific and beautiful energy from you. You’re the type of person whose sweetness isn’t immediately obvious to everyone—it’s something people earn the right to see. Your love, your warmth, your kindness? It’s not just out there for anyone to take. It’s guarded, not because you’re cold, but because you know the value of your heart.Pile 2 people, your love feels like home. They are the ones who will wrap you up in warmth, make sure you’ve eaten, and remind you that you are loved even on the days you feel invisible.

I can tell you’re someone who has felt neglected in the past. Maybe you’ve been that person who showed up for others but didn’t always get the same in return. Maybe you’ve had moments where you wondered, Does anyone even see me? But here’s the thing—this has shaped you into someone so rare, so deeply precious. You don’t just give your love freely—you give it intentionally. And when you do? It changes people.There’s something so tender about someone who understands what it’s like to feel left out in the cold but still chooses to be warm. You don’t just give surface-level kindness; you make people feel safe. Your energy is like a soft, golden light in a world that can sometimes feel too harsh. the Queen of Pentacles energy sitting right in the middle of this spread, i see it as one of the main qualities of yours. You are the nurturer, the provider, the person whose presence feels like a deep breath after a long day. But what makes this so beautiful is that you don’t flaunt it. You’re not out here shouting, Look at me, I’m kind! No, your love is quiet. It’s the type that sneaks up on people when they realize, Damn, I’ve never felt this safe before.

You have this incredible ability to make people feel valued. Not just liked, not just appreciated, but genuinely, wholeheartedly valued. And you don’t do it in a way that’s over-the-top or performative—you do it in the little things. The way you remember the small details about people, the way you check in even when they don’t ask, the way you offer comfort without making a big deal about it. That’s your magic. But here’s the thing—you don’t just give, give, give anymore. I see it in this spread. You’ve learned that your love is not a free buffet; it’s a carefully prepared meal, and only those who truly appreciate it get a seat at your table. And honestly? That’s one of the most lovable things about you. You don’t let just anyone into your world, but when you do? You give them something real, something they’ll never find anywhere else.

Oh, babe, do you even know how bright you shine? Because let me tell you, you don’t always see it, but others do. There’s this thing about you—you don’t even realize how much joy you bring to people just by existing. You might be the type who’s so used to being strong as we talked about how you are used to being neglected so you have now developed this coping mechanism , to carrying your own burdens, that you don’t notice how much your presence lifts others up. But trust me—people see it. You have this warm, radiant energy that just feels good to be around. And it’s not the loud, center-of-attention kind of warmth. It’s the kind that makes people feel like they can be themselves. The kind that makes them feel lighter, freer, happier.

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⋆𐙚₊˚Pile lll

First off, the fact that you got two Major Arcana cards in this reading? Yeah, this isn’t just about your surface-level sweetness. You people are the softest in the way that you inspire other people to keep going.

Starting off with this spread here, and oh my god, bestie, do you even realize how much you carry on your own? Like, I’m not even talking about small worries—I mean the deep, sleepless-night kind of overthinking. The taking on everyone else’s pain while pushing yours aside type of energy. y’all are like a walking contrast in the best way possible. On one hand, you carry a lot of internal battles, but on the other hand, you are the biggest source of light for others. And that’s what makes you so incredibly lovable. Your softness isn’t just about being gentle—it’s about being brave enough to keep believing in something better, even when life has knocked you down. You feel things deeply, and honestly? That’s what makes you so lovable. Here’s the thing: your softness isn’t in being effortlessly sweet—it’s in being brave enough to still love despite everything you’ve been through. You’ve had moments where you felt alone, where you thought, No one sees what I’m going through. But you never let that turn you cold. Instead, you became the person who helps others feel less alone. You are the definition of “I got you” energy—the friend, the lover, the safe space that people don’t even realize they need until they meet you. You make people feel understood, like they don’t have to carry things by themselves anymore. And that? That is rare. Now, let’s talk about The Star—because, DAMN, you don’t even realize how much of a light you are, do you? This card sitting right here tells me something crazy beautiful about you, You make people believe in good things again. You are literally hope personified. i think You people give the best motvational speeches Lol. You don’t sugarcoat things, but somehow you always know the right thing to say to pull someone out of their darkness. You remind people that life keeps moving, and better days are coming. You have this infectious “Why not?” attitude.

And what’s wild? You do this without even realizing it. Like, you’ll say something casually, and days later, someone’s still thinking about it, because you saw something in them that they didn’t even see in themselves. That’s your magic. Your love is quiet, but it’s healing. But here’s where it gets interesting—The Fool. And I love, love, LOVE this placement because this tells me your most lovable quality isn���t just your strength—it’s your ability to keep going. Like, after everything? You still believe in new beginnings. You still take risks with your heart. You still trust that there’s more to life than just pain and struggle. People are drawn to you because you remind them that it’s okay to start over. That it’s okay to try, to love, to hope—even after things have hurt them. And that’s something so rare. Because most people who’ve been through what you’ve been through? They shut down. But you? You open up. You jump, even when you’re scared. You let life surprise you. And that? That’s love in its purest form.

Your sweetness isn’t in being overly bubbly or outwardly affectionate—it’s in being real. In being the person who gets up even when life knocks them down. In being the kind of love that doesn’t demand attention but changes lives just by existing. And that? That’s a love the world doesn’t see enough of.

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Thank you so much for reading all the way through! I hope my reading resonated with you and that you had a lovely time going through it. If you enjoyed it, please like and reblog—it really means a lot! Let me know which pile you chose; I absolutely love hearing your thoughts and feedback on my readings! If my reading resonated you, you may consider buying my paid reading as it would really help me out financially♡

Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not fixedly predict the future. this is a general reading so take what resonates!

[hanniescookie]

is it that hard? - jww

pairing - wonwoo x f! reader

genre - fluff, idol au

warnings - none

summary - you know wonwoo likes you, but for some reason, he doesn't say it. not until you're frustrated enough to play a game on him.

author's note - kekekeke @wonkierideul // this is for you my mochi cheek-ed baby!! i hope you like it 😭 i tried, okay? i just hope it makes you smile at least, you're so dear to me my oomf (pls remind me again what it means) may you fulfill your MUA dream one day and may you get to doll wonu up 🤍 love you sm :)

-------------------------**~~**--------------------------

Being a successful makeup artist had been your dream since you were a teenager. Your love for makeup only grew with your age, and you made yourself proud after finally landing your dream job.

Being Jeon Wonwoo's makeup artist, however, was certainly not your dream. It might be a privilege, never been a dream.

It isn't that you mind seeing his beautiful face every other day while you doll it up with makeup that suits his outfit of the day. Never that. It's just that you're always too distracted to focus on your job. And Wonwoo doesn't help.

It falls out of your realm of professionalism. You've never been someone who struggles with balancing your personal and professional life, but with this man? You're terrible. Miserable.

He is too good looking for his own good, and being so close to his face half the time serves you no good. It takes everything in you to not just kiss his lips everytime you swipe some lipstick across them.

Wonwoo is not very expressive — that's a known fact. But what people might not know is that Wonwoo is a tease, a little close to a flirt. At least towards you, he is.

You hate how he licks his lips right after you're done applying lipstick just to make your job harder. What's worse is that he does it with a straight face, muttering an aplogy within a second like he didn't realize what he just did.

But you have seen it far too much to know that he does these things deliberately. You don't know if he likes seeing the huff of annoyance you let out, or if he just genuinely hates you.

Either way, you've decided that your work ethics have been compromised enough. You don't like these feelings you've harbored for the idol overtime, and if nothing is down the drain, you'll take your shot today.

When Wonwoo arrives on set an hour before his schedule, you're glad that the whole group isn't here. It's his solo schedule for the day — a photoshoot for his brand deal.

The look for today has to be a little bold, and requires more time than usual. So you start slow, focused on work and trying your best to make him look exactly like the concept demands.

And you're also focused on another task today.

"I'm quitting." You say as nonchalantly as you can, dabbing some concealer to hide a tiny acne mark on his skin.

"Huh?" He raises his brows, unsure if you talked to him.

You meet his eyes for a few seconds before focusing back on his cheek, watching the acne mark slowly disappear. You hope your game plan can work, and if it doesn't, then you're really never seeing this place again. "I said I'm quitting this job."

He continues to look at your face while you turn back to the vanity, fumbling through some eyeshadow palettes. Your heart is throbbing at the weight of his gaze, but you keep going. "I'm telling you because I know you don't get used to changes easily. You'll be more prepared when you see another MUA starting tomorrow."

You turn back, meeting his surprised gaze and you smile a little. "Close your eyes."

He takes a little while to process what you said, and you gladly wait till he does. You can see the effect of your game, and you like it so far.

He closes his eyes slowly, exhaling through his nose. It's quiet for a while till you play with a combination of two dark shades on his eyelids.

"Must you leave?"

You almost don't catch it with how quietly he speaks. Keeping the palette away, you stare at his face with his eyes closed, his question echoing in your head. Your heart swells, and a smile forms on your face. "Did you say something?"

He mutters a quiet no without opening his eyes. You know he's doing it because you haven't asked him to open them yet, and involuntarily, you feel a flutter in your chest. Usually, he would open them before you're even done, but right now he's trying to not upset you. How cute.

"I heard you, though." You say again, leaning against the vanity with your arms folded. He slowly opens his eyes, looking at you with eyes full of uncertainty. "Do you have an answer then?"

"Must I leave?" You echo his question, humming thoughtfully. "Good question. The problem is—" you pause, grabbing an eyepencil and leaning down on him. He instinctively closes his eyes, and you smile. "—that my professionalism is threatened here. I can't properly focus on my work with you, Wonwoo."

His eyes snap open before you're even done lining the pencil on his eyelid, earning a sharp wince from you. "See! This is what I mean."

"Sorry," he breathes. "I don't understand. What do you mean?"

"I don't know," you say, folding your arms neatly once again. "You tell me."

He stares at you blankly for a while, unable to pinpoint exactly where you're coming from. Then his expression shifts, as if he's reminded of something. "Scratch that. Just don't quit?"

You arch an eyebrow despite the little victory dance your insides do at his statement. "Hm? Why?"

"Because—" he pauses, trying to find words. "Because like you said, I'm not good with accepting changes. I am used to you."

You sigh, shaking your head. "Is it that hard?"

"What?"

"Saying the truth."

"What truth?"

"That you like me."

Suddenly, there's pin drop silence in the makeup room. Even the humming of the aircon feels distant, as if coming from a faraway land. All you can hear is your own pulse beating wildly in your ears.

Then with calculated certainty, Wonwoo speaks. "It is."

You feel your throat running dry, and though you know you orchestrated this little game, you have no idea why you're nervous. Do you like him that much?

"But if I say it Y/N, will you stay?"

You can't help but smile. He's cute, and you'll do anything to make him happy. You nod. "I will."

He inhales a mouthful of air, and deeply exhales it all. Licking his dry lips, he looks up in your eyes, taking your hand in his large one hesitantly.

"I like you." He says, as quiet as the room. "I've liked you since the day you first put an insane amount of blush on my cheeks and I complained about looking cute. Please don't quit on me."

You've known that Wonwoo likes you, but nothing could've prepared you for the way he admits it in his low voice while holding your hand gently. You feel your pulse quickening even more if it's possible, and a blush dusts your cheeks.

"You did look cute, though."

"I didn't want to!" He groans, and you end up giggling. He sighs then, smiling along with you nevertheless. "Is that what you say to my confession?"

You shrug, grabbing a lipstick and turning to him. "If you don't mess your lipstick up this time, I'll think about going on a date with you."

He smiles, fingers hooking in yours to tug you closer. You lean closer to him as a result, eyes widening slightly. "Whatever happened to professionalism now?"

"I can compromise a little if I get a boyfriend as handsome as Jeon Wonwoo." You answer, poking his forehead so his head rests back before you begin applying lipstick on his lips.

He does mess his lipstick after your first attempt, and it leads to you kissing him, but you go on a date with him on the weekend anyway.

[seaborgium-dazies]

call me baby ♡ mdni

how mha boys praise you praise kink, established relationship, f!reader, dirty talk (puppy, princess, good girl), p in v, oral f!receiving 🌊: deku, bakugo, shoto, kirishima

deku:

I think it goes without saying that deku loves calling you puppy. He sprinkles a mix of darling, love and dear into his daily use of pet names as well. 'Puppy' is something very private to him; something meant just for him and you; something that lays both of you completely bare. And we all know how rambly deku gets when he's nervous or excited, you can bet your ass it's even more amplified when he's horny.

When deku came home after evening patrol completely spent you could practically feel the exhaustion dripping off of him and pooling on the floor around him. You hated seeing him like this and you knew you had to help him somehow. It didn't take long until you were on top of him bouncing and grinding to your hearts content. You made quick work of deku and soon enough he was trying his hardest to hold onto what was left of his sanity. "Puppy, you feel s'good" he slurs as your hips rock against his. He could barely keep his green eyes open and yet he couldn't stop praising you. "You're so so good to me puppy, taking me so well, ahh~". Even when his mind was wiped blank the love he held for you was so prominent that his tongue was doing somersaults, carefully stringing words of praise together "You're doing so good for me puppy. You feel haaah~ amazing. Keep going puppy, puppy-". His rambling came to a halt only as his muscles spasmed and his head fell back in a silent cry. But he was quick to pick up again after he came back to his senses, telling you how good you feel and how much he loves you <3

bakugo:

Bakugo may seem like a person who doesn't praise at all but in reality he's a sucker for it. In the beginning it would really require some emotional work from him though because admitting how much he cares for you and how important you are to him is incredibly hard for him. It's something he struggles with but after he gets used to being vulnerable with you he can't stop praising you. Especially when you're having sensual sex the words effortlessly fall from his lips.

You were going at it for what felt like hours and yet it was only your second round. Bakugos cock was pistoning in and out of you with speed that left you unable to speak. Your whines and moans fell like oil into the fire that is Katsuki Bakugos ego. "Yeah? You like that?" Katsuki asks breathlessly. Your reply made entirely of moans only earns a cocky chuckle. "You're taking me so well baby, just like that, yeah". He hungrily stares at the space where you two are connected, eager to get more moans out of you he starts circling your clit. "Just like that baby, just let loose for me princess". You couldn't help but throw your head back as he settled on the perfect pace. You couldn't help but wonder if someone had given him an instruction manual on how to make you cum with the way that he's working your buttons. "Eyes on me pretty princess" he says as he gently guides your face back "That's a good girl". And with one more flick of your clit your orgasm washes over you, bakugos voice still echoing through your head.

shoto:

At first shoto was very new to dirty talk but after you tried it out on him and he enjoyed it a lot he decided he wanted to be able to make you feel that way too. His gentle and kind nature translates to this aspect as well and and his dirty talk is very literal.

It took shoto mere seconds to figure out that something was bothering you. Although you tried to hide it as to not alarm or bother him, you weren't too surprised that he had you pegged so quickly. Shoto coaxed your troubles out of you, and as he heard that you couldn't help but feel undesirable and unattractive his brows furrowed. Luckily he knew exactly how to convince you of the opposite. His tongue was lapping at your folds and obscene slurping sounds filled the air. "Your pretty pussy tastes so good, mmmm". The vibration of shotos groan made you moan. He pulled away with a dopey smile and spoke with a voice so sweet it was practically dripping honey. "Look at you all splayed out for me, I've never seen anything more beautiful, you take my breath away baby". And just like that, as if he didn't just bring tears to your eyes with his words he ducked down and sucked on your clit like there was no tomorrow.

kirishima:

Kirishima is already kissing the ground you walk on in everyday life so it's no surprise that he's showering you with praise in the bedroom as well. Really it'd be a surprise if someone were to date him and NOT develop a praise kink. He maneuvers his way around words like a champion, alternating between sickly sweet and downright nasty.

Kirishima considered it a miracle that the two of you had a day off work that actually lined up. He didn't remember the last time that had happened. He was up and dripping with sweat from his morning run as you were still sound asleep. A quick shower later he stepped out of the fogged up room to hear you humming in the kitchen. He saw you making yourself a cup of coffee, leaning against the kitchen counter in nothing but panties and an oversized shirt. He took a good thirty seconds to just watch your ass gently bounce as you were bobbing your head to the song from the radio, almost salivating at the way your flesh spilled out of your panties. You heard a soft "Baby you're killing me" from the hallway. You just had to chuckle when you saw kirishima, palming his boner. The effect you had on him was truly undeniable. You curled your finger, beckoning him to come and kirishima was on you in an instant. His tongue was working miracles on your neck and every time he stopped to breathe, he leaned in close and whispered something sinfully sweet into your ear. As if your mind wasn't hazy enough as you heard him "Such a good girl for me, so perfect". Your knees were about to give out as kirishima scooped you up in his arms and carried you to your bed. You couldn't deny that he was your demise as well as your salvation.

all characters aged up

©️ seaborgium-dazies 2025

[tsukuhoe]

22. baby, i know cw: heavy mentions of alcohol, teeny bit angsty, wc: 1.8k

you stood in front of the door, your fingers fumbling with the handle. “shit,” you muttered under your breath. you lean on the garage door, arms full of beer bottles and knocked. “hey shitheads?” no answer. you flick a switch, and the garage door opens, and as you walk towards the garage door, the door closes. you look back to see a costumed ghostface closing the garage door. 

“...is that you randy?” the masked man shakes his head. no. 

“what movie is this from? i spit on your garage?” you scoff in return. “lose the costume; if sidney sees it, she’ll flip.” you walk towards the costume. he’s shaking his head again. 

“oh, you wanna play psycho killer?” you said, tilting your head slightly, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “can i be the helpless victim?” 

he masked figure nods. you cocked her head to the side, looking him up and down. “oh no, please don’t kill me mr. ghostface, i wanna be in the sequel!” you said, scoffing, then pushing him to the side. however, instead, the masked face grabbed your arm and pulled out a knife. a few bottles in your arm dropped and shattered as he dragged the prop against your arm, fake blood coming out of the tube. “ah!” 

immediately, you ran towards the fridge, slamming the top freezer in his face. he fell to the ground as you ran past him, grabbed the unshattered bottles and threw them at him once he started getting up. “fucker!” 

desperately wanting to escape, you spotted the doggy door. you quickly ran towards it, trying your best to shove your body through… unfortunately, your shoulders had made you stuck. seeing his golden opportunity, the killer flicks the switch, which opens the door… you are lifted into the air as you look up…

“CUT!” utahime’s voice booms, the entire set erupts into applause. “that was perfect, y/n and toji!” this was the last day of your filming on set. after the hard weeks of consistent filming and visiting the building, you had finished your part. you felt a lump form in your throat as you watched the cast and crew celebrate. this was the culmination of weeks of hard work, late nights, and dedication. ​​

toji walkers over to you. “we did it. we made the iconic scene.” 

you laughed softly, nodding. “we sure did.” 

after being on set with toji for a few weeks, he had gotten used to your presence, however, just because you’d been with him for a few weeks does not mean he’s fond of you now… “now you can finally scram. honestly, singing might be something you’d want to stick you.” he said with a smirk on his face. 

you could tell he was trying to get on your nerves. “awh, thank you so much mr. fushiguro! i appreciate your support in my music career!” you shot him an insincere smile, tone all cheery.  

“nah, i’d never listen to–” “SWEETS! you were amazing!” before toji could continue, gojo ran towards you and spun you around. “seriously, baby, i’ve been watching all the behind-the-scenes clips, and you nailed every scene. i’m so proud of you.” 

“thank you so much, gojo!” you giggled. you aren’t exaggerating when you say you saw literal stars in his eyes. 

“so, dinner? at kura revolving sushi bar?” he asked, setting you down on the ground. 

“yeah, of course— sorry, off topic, but do you know if kento is in the building today? i’ve been wanting to talk to him…” it had been approximately three days since you last had an actual conversation with him. could he be avoiding you? 

“ah, i don’t think so, sweets. from what i remember, he has a shooting to do for tomorrow in osaka! i think he should be on a plane by now.” right. of course. kento nanami is a busy man, this shouldn’t be surprising. however, you couldn’t help but to feel a little disappointed… by what? not getting to talk to him? you could always text him. him leaving without informing you? it’s not like you two were together; he isn’t obligated to tell you anything— so what exactly were you disappointed about? did you want to be with him? is that why you’re disappointed? before you could start spiralling even more than you already are, gojo picked up the change in your mood. 

“hey, if you want, i could pass along a message for you…? or you could even call him! i’m sure he’d be happy to receive a call from you!” he gently said, running his hands through your hair. 

“really? you’d think so?” you asked, eyes watery, tears threatening to spill out. 

“i know so. now c’mon! we don’t wanna be late to our reservation, now do we?” 

‘fuck. what in the world am i doing.’ was the only thought that ran through his head the whole car ride there. supporting you and nanami’s… relationship? whatever you two had going on. his hands gripped the steering wheel harder. he couldn’t help but to feel a jealous— bitter even. he was jealous of nanami’s relationship with you. he was bitter at himself. what did he lack? why was he even helping him? 

“we’re here!” his voice came out cheery, a total contrast to his previous thoughts while driving. you two walked in, while gojo talked to the waitress you couldn’t help but notice the sudden shift in his mood. in the car it was completely quiet, but now he’s all sunshine and smiles. he’s the world’s favourite actor (other than toji, of course) after all. 

“‘order anything ya want, sweets! it’s all on me.” he grinned, taking his seat as you settled in the booth across from him. 

“do you drink, gojo?” you asked, looking at the menu. 

“nahh, i don’t, sweets. i’m a light weight haha.” 

“oh, alright! then i won’t either!” 

“nono, drink if you want to! i don’t mind you drinking, besides i’ll be driving you home!” 

It wasn’t long before you two were laughing and nibbling on different types of sushi— salmon, tuna, avocado rolls, and takoyaki. but the drinks? that was beginning to hit you. you started with one shot, but it had been so smooth that you’d convinced yourself to have another. and then another. 

gojo watched you carefully, noting the rosy flush on your cheeks and the slightly glassy look in your eyes. you were starting to slur your words, though gojo didn’t want to say anything just yet. you two were having a great time, and the vibe was perfect.

"y/n," he said gently, "maybe we should slow down on the drinks?"

you waved him off. "i’m fine, i’m fine! just one more… okay, two more..."

he let out a small chuckle at your drunken state. “i can now see why you’re such good friends with shoko!” 

a few minutes later, you leaned back in your seat with a contented sigh, then suddenly lurched forward, your hand grabbing the edge of the conveyor belt as if to steady yourself. "i think i’m a little drunk," you admitted, your voice wobbling.

gojo couldn't help but laugh. "you think? you’ve had like, seven shots."

you giggled, your head tilting to one side as you tried to look serious. "i don’t know what’s in that drink, but it’s like magic. i feel amazing. i could totally sing karaoke right now."

the mention of singing made gojo laugh harder. "let’s just focus on not falling off the stool for now, alright, sweets?"

you blinked at him, then suddenly grinned. "you’re so funny, gojo. i think i love you."

his heart started to throb. he chuckled and reached for his glass of water. "yeah, well, i’m pretty lovable when i’m sober… let’s go home now, alright, sweets? don’t want you passing out on the conveyor belt." 

“you’re so nice, gojo.” 

“you know, you’ve been calling me gojo for a while. satoru is fine, sweets.” gojo chuckled, helping you out the booth and walking you to his car. 

“satoru… satoru… sa…toru… toru. how about toru. since y’know, you’ve been calling me these cute names, i should too!” you beamed, as he opened the passenger seat door for you. 

“sure thing, sweets.” 

the car ride to his place was quiet, you were slowly dozing off while he drove. you stared at gojo for a beat too long, his eyes soft and focused on road. "toru…" you began, your words dragging, "you know, i’ve always thought... you’re really pretty." 

his heart skipped a beat, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. he thought you were just being intoxicated. "you’re not so bad yourself," he teased, nudging you lightly. “we’ve just pulled into the parking lot. i’ll call shoko or utahime to come pick you up in a few?” 

you didn’t laugh. instead, you moved closer, your face hovering inches from his, your breath warm and scented with alcohol. gojo’s heart started to race; unsure if this was the alcohol talking or something more. fuck. he wished it was. 

“y/n, what are you—” 

before he could finish his sentence, you closed the gap between. the kiss was sudden and clumsy, but it was there— his lips pressing against yours with an intensity he wasn’t prepared for. the kiss deepened, you tasted like the alcohol you’ve been drinking earlier. gojo hates alcohol, but fuck, your taste was so addicting. he didn’t care. your hand moved to his chest, your fingers pressing into him as you leaned more into the kiss.

the kiss grew more urgent, gojo pulled away slightly, his breath shaky. “sweets, wait... you’re drunk. this isn’t—”

“i want this,” you whispered, your voice soft but insistent. your eyes searched his, a mixture of vulnerability and something deeper that made his chest tighten.

for a second, he hesitated, unsure. but there, in your gaze, was something real. something he couldn’t ignore… but he also knew this wasn’t something to rush. not like this. not when the line between friendship and something else felt too blurry. 

with a sigh, he pulled back, his thumb gently brushing your cheek. “we can’t, not like this,” he said softly. 

your eyes flickered with confusion, and for a moment, he could see the haze from the alcohol fading just a bit, replaced by something more knowing, more aware.

“i… i didn’t mean to mess things up,” you whispered, your voice small.

“you didn’t,” he said gently, placing a small peck on your forehead. “we’re just... better off waiting for a clearer moment.”

you nodded slowly, your eyes heavy with sleep now, the alcohol slowly overtaking you again. you leaned back into him, your eyelids fluttering as you tried to keep yourself awake.

he held you there, his heart racing, his mind spinning. gojo didn’t know what had just happened, but one thing was certain— he couldn’t possibly face your sober state after this— even if this kiss wasn’t genuine. even if this kiss only happened because you missed nanami. 

album bonus tracks: — hihi i'm SO sorry for the late update omg... — im going to be so fr i actually got really sad while writing this, then i started contemplating my life choices — i love gojo sm, i promise he's going to be happy TT — other than that, please lmk if there's any grammar or spelling errors! — i wanna get deeper into everyone's character so bad but i don't know when's the right time to do it 😞 — anyways, i'll try to update the next chapter sometime this week to make up for the last weeks ^.^ ⋮ MASTERLIST  ֹ⋮  PREVIOUS  ⋮  ֹNEXT

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[ragana62]

Hermione doesn't break rules openly, because she knows that having the aura of following rules means that when someone starts looking at the trio for who was responsible for all the laws broken, she will be written off on principle. She knows that being the responsible one gives her protection, and it gives all of them an escape route should things go badly.

I have always held it as a survival tactic. It's Hermione knowing that nobody even notices the quiet, polite, bookworm in the corner who just keeps her nose down and always turns in her work, with extra credit, perfectly complete a day early at least. The magical world is a dangerous place, she doesn't know anyone there at the start, and the people she does know have made clear to her on observation that even for those the magical world doesn't hate on sight, there's not much of a guarantee of help coming much less help that can do much of anything in the face of some of the opposition. She needs to fade into the background, because being in the spotlight is a target, and if she is going to take the spotlight, it needs to be for something positive like her academic work where she can still be written off as 'one of the good ones'.

And... it works. First year Hermione can walk up to multiple professors and say 'It's my fault, I read about trolls and thought I could stop it before it hurt anyone, they were just helping me' and every last one of them just nods and says 'yes, that seems perfectly plausible, good job boys, perhaps we don't do that again Hermione'. Second year Hermione already knows how to brew multiple NEWT level highly controlled potions and can steal the ingredients to make them, brew the potions in broad daylight, and turn up into the hospital wing when one goes wrong looking like a were-cat, and it raises no questions. The assumption is that she was just trying to work ahead and made a mistake, it absolutely wouldn't be that she stole ingredients to knock students unconscious and stick them into a closet so her friends could break into another house's common room while impersonating them. We see the pattern time and time again.

Hermione doesn't openly break rules, so her teachers, her peers even, don't look at her when a rule is broken, and more than that, if something goes wrong in the pursuit of breaking rules, she can bullshit her way out of it with little more than a 'oops, I was just really excited to try something new I learned and it went a little wrong, I'm sorry' and the problem goes away. And that's exactly why she feels confident she can get away with putting Rita in a jar, or stealing books from Dumbledore's office after sixth year, or any number of other things. Because she already has gotten away with things like that, and quite frankly, even if she does get caught, all she has to do is say 'I'm sorry, I was just really interested in some new reading material and didn't think he would mind since it was to help Harry...' and McGonagall will ignore it, or 'She broke the law, look, unregistered animagus! I was just trying to be responsible and help, especially with all the bad things happening around the tournament, you don't think she might have something to do with that, do you?' and everyone will just say 'ah yes, Hermione was just trying to enforce the rules and got a little overzealous, this is why we're going to make you a prefect. Maybe we need to put a little more thought into how we do that next time, okay? In the magical world, we tell an adult these things, instead of just jumping straight to trying to catch the perpetrator ourselves.'.

(I also think this is why Dumbledore is so confident in just saying 'two turns, you can save them both, have fun kids' and knowing she will know what he means. He has a rather similar understanding that appearances will always matter more than actions when it comes to consequences, even if I don't always agree as much with the actions he chooses to use appearances to cover over, and I think he recognizes that in her as well.)

i love how hermione has such a rule following aura that everyone ignores that she is the real rule breaker of the trio. harry sneaks out at night sometimes. hermione straight up kidnapped a whole woman and held her prisoner in an enchanted jar. even tom riddle didn't do that.

[cressidagrey]

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 13

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes: 

Mention of epilepsy and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose. Also Discussion of toxic media/fandom/death threats.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Lando knew this was going to be a mess, but at this point, he had no choice. He’d been bullied into this.

He slouched in his chair, arms crossed, waiting for the right moment to speak up. Zak Brown was reviewing sponsorship commitments, Andrea Stella was making notes on the schedule, and Sophie, McLaren’s head of PR, was rattling off media obligations. Across the table, Oscar was watching him, barely holding back a smirk.

Lando cleared his throat. “By the way, I’m bringing my girlfriend to Silverstone.”

The room went silent. Heads turned, eyebrows raised, and even Zak looked up from his paperwork. And then there was Oscar, unable to bite back his smirk any longer.

Sophie was the first to regain composure. “Girlfriend?” she repeated, clearly caught off guard.

"Yeah," Lando affirmed, trying to sound casual, but the tension in the room was palpable. "I've been seeing someone for a while. And she's coming to Silverstone."

There was a pause, an awkward beat of silence.

Zak narrowed his eyes. “And when exactly were you planning on telling us this?”

Lando shrugged. “Now?”

Sophie sighed, already dreading the impending PR nightmare. "Alright," she said, pushing up her glasses and steeling herself. "Who is this mystery girlfriend?"

“Elizabeth Treshton,” Lando said casually.

The room exploded.

Sophie looked like she was malfunctioning. “Wait—Elizabeth Treshton? As in—”

Zak leaned forward, looking genuinely shocked. “The Elizabeth Treshton?”

Andrea, who usually stayed calm, looked almost rattled. “The author?”

“Yes, the author,” Lando confirmed, rolling his eyes. “Why is everyone acting like I just said I’m dating the Queen of England?”

Sophie groaned, already rubbing her temples. “Lando, do you have any idea what you’ve just done?”

Zak was still shaking his head, somewhere between impressed and exasperated. “You’ve been secretly dating a bestselling fantasy author and didn’t think to mention it?”

Sophie looked like she had a migraine. "Lando, you’ve just added a whole new layer to your public image. And you have no idea what kind of circus the media will make out of this.”

Andrea sighed. “Lando. You realize that this means—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando cut in, waving a hand. “Social media chaos, headlines, fans losing their minds. Trust me, I know.”

Not like he hadn’t thought about it…constantly.  

Sophie, now frantically typing away on her laptop, let out a sharp exhale. “You do understand her fanbase is massive, right? You’re dating one of the most popular fantasy authors in the world. This isn’t just a random reveal. This is—this is—”

“Huge,” Oscar supplied helpfully, still looking thoroguhly amused. 

Lando nodded, feigning nonchalance. "I’ve seen the numbers. I know she’s a big deal. But you’re acting like it’s a bad thing."

Zak raised an eyebrow. "It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it makes things… complicated."

Andrea nodded in agreement. "Treshton’s fan base is extremely passionate. They’ll be watching your every move. And given her genre of books, well… let’s just say they have… very active imaginations.”

Lando couldn’t help an amused smirk. "You mean they’ll write fanfiction about us?"

Sophie looked more pained at the mention of fanfiction. "They’ll do so much more than that, Lando. Interviews, gossip sites, fan theories—the media will have a field day with this. Her privacy is going to be nonexistent, and so is yours."

Lando shrugged, trying to look unperturbed. "I can deal with the press. I’ve been doing it for years. And honestly, her fans can’t be any worse than some of the crazies online."

Andrea sighed again, muttering something in Italian under his breath before looking at Sophie. “How do we handle this?”

Sophie, now looking more exhausted than ever, replied, "We handle this very carefully. We’ll need a statement, some approved talking points, and a ton of media training. This has the potential to be a PR nightmare if we don’t get out ahead of it."

Lando let out a long sigh, regretting his decision to mention anything. "Great, just great."

"And we'll need to meet her," Sophie continued. "And probably her team."

Zak leaned back in his chair, a small smirk on his face. "I can’t wait to meet the woman who’s managed to tame our Lando."

Lando rolled his eyes. "I’m not tamed," he muttered, ignoring the smirks from his teammates.

"Sure, you’re not," Oscar said, clearly amused. "You are just reading romantasy books and getting her dog Ferrari bandanas."

"I wanted to talk to you about that," Zak said drily. "Lando...why?"

Lando groaned, slumping back in his chair. "Don’t start with that."

Zak smirked, all too pleased with the subject. "I’m just curious. Lando Norris,  McLaren race car driver, getting a dog a Ferrari bandana. Also, I am going to put my foot down and say that we are not having the dog in the garage in a ferrari bandana."

Lando huffed, but there was a reluctant smirk on his face. "Yeah, yeah, I get it, it’s a PR nightmare. But the dog is innocent. Lizzie has been a Ferrari fan since childhood. The dog is literally named Maranello."

Zak’s eyes widened, and he looked to the rest of the room. "You’re kidding."

Sophie just shook her head in disbelief, while Andrea let out a low whistle. "Damn, she’s really committed to being a Ferrari fan, isn’t she?"

Lando just ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. "Yes, I know. I’ve made my peace with it."

***

Lizzie had been in her fair share of nerve-wracking meetings—editorial reviews, publisher strategy calls, even a few intense negotiations about movie rights—but nothing quite prepared her for sitting in McLaren’s conference room, facing Zak Brown, Andrea Stella, and the entire PR team.

She sat up straight, hands folded in her lap as she tried not to let her nerves show. It wasn’t every day that she was the center of attention for an entire Formula One team.

Zak Brown looked directly at her. “Ms. Treshton—”

“Lizzie, please.” She interrupted, cringing internally at just how nervous she sounded.

Zak folded his hands on the table and leaned forward. “So, Lizzie. First of all—welcome. I have to say, this is a bit of a surprise.”

Yeah, it was. Not just for them. If someboy woul have told LIzzie a year ago that she was going to sit in a team meeting in the MTC and discuss her romantic relationship with Lando Norris, she would have started laughing hysterically. 

“It’s nice to meet all of you,” she settled on saying. 

Lando squeezed her hand under the table. 

Sophie, McLaren’s head of PR, sighed, already scribbling notes. “Okay, let’s get to the important stuff. You’re a bestselling author with a massive online following. Lando is one of the most popular drivers on the grid. When this relationship goes public, it’s not going to be small.”

Lizzie nodded, trying to keep her face neutral. She knew all too well the scrutiny that came with being a public figure. But hearing McLaren spell it out, in the context of Lando’s world, was still a bit jarring. “I’m aware of the attention it will bring,” she agreed. 

Zak nodded. “We need to prepare a few talking points, a plan for the media, and figure out how to approach this. Given your...passionate fanbase, we’re expecting some fallout.”

She took a deep breath, trying to sound assured. “I understand. I’ve been in the public eye for a while, so I have some idea of what to expect. But I’ll do my best to handle it.”

Zak nodded, glancing at Lizzie. “Which brings me to my next question. Are you prepared for that?”

Lizzie met his gaze evenly. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

There was a moment of silence as the team digested her answer. She could almost see their surprise.

Sophie, ever the media manager, pressed on. “Publicity can be ruthless. The media will dig into your past, speculate on your relationship, and try to find any angle they can to sensationalize the story. You’ll have cameras and microphones in your face, people demanding interviews, autograph requests. Are you ready for that?”

Lizzie considered the question for a moment. Ready? Probably not. But was she willing to face it?

“I’ve dealt with the press before. I know how to handle myself in front of cameras and microphones.” It was at least partially true.

Andrea, who had been silently watching her this whole time, finally spoke. “You have a service dog. Lando mentioned that you have epilepsy.” His tone wasn’t unkind—just careful. “Do you have any concerns about attending a race weekend?”

Lando stiffened slightly beside her, but Lizzie appreciated the directness.

“I’ve thought about it,” she admitted. “It’s a high-stimulation environment—loud, crowded, unpredictable. But I’ve managed fine at other big events before, and I wouldn’t put myself in a situation I couldn’t handle.”

She glanced down, where Mara lay calmly at her feet. “Mara will be with me at all times. She’s trained to alert me before a seizure, and I trust her completely.”

There was a long silence as the McLaren team absorbed this new information. Lizzie could see the wheels turning in their heads, weighing the pros and cons and determining how this added new variable would affect their strategy.

Sophie finally broke the silence, her pen still scratching notes across a pad of paper. “This definitely adds another element to consider.”

Zak looked thoughtful. “We’ll need to ensure that Mara has access wherever you go on race weekends. And our medics will need to be briefed on your condition in case of an emergency.”

Lizzie nodded, feeling a wave of relief that they were taking this seriously. “I can provide them with all the necessary medical information beforehand.”

Sophie, however, still looked concerned. “The press is going to latch onto your condition. We need to be prepared for that.”

"It's not a secret," Lizzie said drily.

"Lizzie has been openly talking about her epilepsy online for years," Lando said quickly.

The words hung in the air for a beat. It was true. Lizzie had been open about her epilepsy on social media—but that was to her fans, to people who loved her books and cared about her as an author. This was an entirely different beast.

Sophie frowned slightly, clearly worried. "Yes, but this will bring a whole new level of scrutiny. The media will ask invasive questions, demand to know every detail—"

"I know," Lizzie said calmly. "I'm aware of how relentless the press can be. I'm not naive."

Andrea nodded, his frown slightly softened. "We'll do everything we can to protect your privacy, but—"

"There's only so much you can control," Lizzie finished for him. "I get it. I know what to expect."

Lando on the other hand already looked murderous.

He hadn't said a word, just sitting there in brooding silence. But one look at his expression, at the muscle in his jaw clenching, told Lizzie he did not like this angle of questioning at all.

Zak noticed too. "Lando, you've been unusually quiet."

Lando was bristling now. "What? You think I'm happy that the press is going to exploit her medical condition for headlines?"

Zak raised a placating hand. "No one said that. But it's something we have to consider. We need to be prepared for the questions they'll ask."

Lando's glare could've melted steel. But Lizzie, knowing him too well, gave his hand a subtle squeeze under the table. A nonverbal plea for calm.

It worked. Lando took a deep breath, managing to tone down his scowl to a slightly less homicidal expression.

Zak, noticing Lizzie's silent intervention, gave her a look that clearly said, "Nice one."

"Okay," Zak said, clearing his throat and redirecting the conversation. "There's one more thing we need to discuss."

Lizzie braced herself, wondering what could possibly be left.

"Ferrari. Really?!"

It was the last thing Lizzie expected to hear.

She bit back a laugh, trying not to show her amusement, while Lando groaned and buried his face in his hands.

"Here we go," he muttered.

Zak was shaking his head, clearly torn between exasperation and amusement. "I can't believe one of my star drivers is dating a die-hard Ferrari fan."

Lizzie couldn't help herself anymore. A soft laugh escaped her lips.

Sophie, seeing her reaction, rolled her eyes, but a hint of a smile played at the corners of her mouth.

Andrea, the most composed of the group, raised an eyebrow at Lando. "Did you not think we were going to bring this up?"

"I promise not to wear Ferrari Merch in the McLaren Garage?" Lizzie suggested, trying to stay serious.

Lando snorted, looking both horrified and amused at the thought.

Zak, clearly torn between amusement and protectiveness over his team, ran a hand through his hair. "I'd prefer if you didn't, yeah."

"But no promises about Mara's Bandana. I am not putting a McLaren Bandana on Mara. That would be treason," Lizzie said seriously.

There was a round of disbelieving chuckles from the McLaren team. It seemed like the ice was finally broken.

Sophie bit back a laugh, looking slightly more relaxed. "I can't believe we're discussing your dog's loyalties in a serious strategy meeting."

"This is a very serious topic," Lizzie said dryly, trying to keep a straight face. "Mara is very attached to her Ferrari bandana. I don't think she'd take kindly to switching allegiances."

Lando looked at her aghast. "How have I managed to fall in love with a woman who has a Ferrari dog?"

Zak chuckled. "You just know the press is going to have a field day with this."

[mminghaos]

pink in the night , yoon jeonghan x f!reader

“and i know i’ve kissed you before, but i didn’t do it right”

SYNOPSIS: jeonghan shows up at your door months after the both of you ended things, and despite everything that’s happened, you cant help but give in.

WARNINGS: smut, oral (f!receiving), angst

requests open, do send some in !!

jeonghan shouldn’t be here, really.

and you shouldn’t be standing here, staring at him like you don’t know exactly how this ends.

but you don’t close the door.

he’s watching you, hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie, hair messy like he ran his fingers through it a hundred times before knocking. you hate that he still looks good like this — casual, effortless, like he didnt wreck you months ago and then leave you to pick up the pieces alone.

“what do you want?” your voice is sharper than you mean for it to be, but you dont take it back.

he shrugs, like this isn’t a big deal, like he’s just passing through. “just wanted to see you.”

your fingers curl tighter around the door. that’s the problem, isn’t it? jeonghan always does what he wants. shows up when it’s convenient for him. says things that get under your skin, waits for you to react, waits for you to break first.

not this time.

“you shouldn’t be here,” you tell him.

“i know,” he says. and yet, he still doesn’t leave.

you hate him for this. for making you stand in the doorway of your own apartment, pulse too quick, mind too slow. for making it so goddamn hard to look at him and remember why you let him go in the first place.

this is fucked up. things ended months ago. you should have shut the door in his face. he played with your feelings like they were nothing, kissed you like you were nothing. and now he expects you to forgive him just like that?

but then he exhales, slow, careful, and his voice drops into something softer. “i should’ve done stuff differently.” he says, taking a step closer “i had my chance and i fucked up.”

you scoff before you can stop yourself. “seriously?”

“i mean it,” he murmurs, tilting his head, studying you like he’s trying to figure out what you’ll do next. “you don’t think about it?”

you shouldn’t. but of course you do.

it’s what pisses you off the most. that even after everything, there are nights you still feel the ghost of his hands on you, his lips at your throat, his voice in your ear. that you still remember exactly how he felt between your legs and how you woke up to him besides you in the mornings.

but that’s not enough. it was never enough.

“not my problem,” you say, but your voice isn’t as steady as it should be.

he catches it, of course he does. jeonghan knows you too well, knows how to read between the lines, knows how to press at your weak spots until you let him in.

his fingers brush against your wrist — barely a touch, but it sends something sharp and electric up your spine. your stomach twists. he’s always been good at this.

you should tell him to leave.

but then his other hand finds your waist, and your breath catches, and you realize you don’t move away.

this is a mistake.

jeonghan leans in, slow, like he’s giving you time to stop him. his lips are close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath, and your body betrays you, leaning just the slightest bit forward.

his lips barely graze yours before you turn your head, his mouth landing on your cheek instead.

“you don’t deserve that,” you whisper.

his forehead drops against yours, and he exhales, his hands flexing against your skin.

“i know.”

his voice is so quiet, too quiet. too good.

your fingers hover over his chest. they shouldn’t. but he’s warm, and close, and familiar in all the ways that make your head spin.

“just once,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. “let me get it right.”

you should say no.

but you don’t.

his lips don’t press to yours right away. he waits, forehead still resting against yours, his hands unmoving at your waist like he’s giving you the chance to stop this. to step back and slam the door in his face like you should have the second you saw him standing there.

but you don’t move.

and neither does he.

his fingers tighten slightly, barely gripping, barely holding. like he’s afraid he’ll push too far and youll disappear. you should make him beg for it, should make him suffer the way you did when he walked away the first time, but the way he’s looking at you — soft, unreadable, too much — makes your chest ache.

“tell me to go,” he murmurs. “i will.”

your breath catches, throat tight, because he says it like he means it. like he’ll actually leave if you tell him to.

but that’s the problem, isn’t it? you don’t want him to.

you should. god, you should.

but instead, your fingers tighten in the front of his hoodie, tugging just slightly, and that’s all it takes.

he exhales shakily, barely a breath before his lips finally, finally press to yours.

and it’s everything you remember. warm, familiar, intoxicating in the way that makes your head spin. his hands slide up, fingertips pressing just hard enough to remind you that he’s here, that you’re letting him do this, that you should stop before it goes too far.

but you don’t.

because the second his tongue brushes against your lower lip, you part for him, and then you’re really kissing him — deep and slow and desperate, like trying to erase the last few months .

jeonghan groans softly into your mouth, his hands sliding lower, gripping your hips like he needs you closer, like he’s scared you’ll slip through his fingers if he doesn’t hold tight enough. and maybe that should scare you, how easily you let him in, how easily you forget why you told yourself this would never happen again.

but then he’s walking you backward, guiding you towards your bedroom, and the second the door clicks shut behind him, it doesn’t matter anymore.

your back meets the bedroom wall with a quiet thud, and jeonghan takes the chance to press closer, caging you in. his hands are everywhere — sliding up your sides, skimming over your ribs, gripping just hard enough to make your breath hitch.

his lips don’t leave yours, moving slow, deep, like he’s savoring this, like he’s making sure you feel every second of it.

and you do.

your fingers twist in the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him closer, because no matter how much you hate this, hate him for still having this hold on you, it’s been months. months of pretending, months of acting like you don’t still crave him in the worst way.

his hands slide lower, palms hot against your bare skin as they dip under your shirt, and you shiver, arching into him before you can stop yourself. his lips curl against yours, and you hate the way he knows exactly what that means.

“still so sensitive,” he murmurs, dragging his mouth down to your jaw, then lower, lips ghosting over the column of your throat.

you swallow hard, tilting your head back against the wall, fingers curling against his chest. “shut up.”

he huffs a quiet laugh against your skin, but he doesn’t push — doesn’t gloat like you expect him to. instead, his hands skim up your sides again, slow, careful, like he’s feeling his way through this.

like he knows he doesn’t get to fuck this up a second time.

you should tell him to stop. should shove him back and remind him that this means nothing.

but when his teeth scrape against your pulse point, your breath stutters, and your nails press into his shoulders.

this is a mistake.

then he’s tugging your shirt higher, fingertips ghosting over your ribs, and your body betrays you all over again, pressing into him, wanting more.

jeonghan hums low in his throat, dragging his lips back up to yours.

“tell me to stop.” he murmurs, just before he goes in to kiss you again. “last chance to tell me to leave.”

and you don’t.

he guides you back to your bed, and it’s exactly as you remember. the soft creak of the mattress, the familiar scent of your sheets that’s somehow now mixed with his cologne. just the sight of him, standing over you, has that fluttering feeling in your stomach making its way up to your chest, catching your breath in a way you cant stop, no matter how much you try.

he leans over you, his lips brushing against your ear, murmuring, “let me make it up to you.” the words stir something deep inside, the kind of longing that you’ve tried so hard to bury.

you want to say no, so badly, the urge to push him off you, slam the door in his face, tell him to fuck off and never come back. but you don’t.

you can’t.

he’s too close. too fucking close. the warmth of his body next to yours makes it impossible to push him away.

and when his lips press against your neck, hot and soft, like a promise he doesn’t plan on keeping, you know that you should say something — anything — but you don’t.

you feel his fingers slip under the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down with practiced ease, and you don’t even have the energy to stop him. your hands curl into the sheets, your heart hammering in your chest. the last shred of resistance you had crumbles, and you’re left breathless beneath him.

he’s looking at you now, his gaze intense, searching your eyes like he’s trying to find something.

“focus,” he whispers, his voice low and coaxing, the softest it’s been in months. “are you sure? i don’t want you regretting anything like me.”

you try to summon some strength, to find some piece of you that remembers why this is such a terrible idea. you should push him away. you should stand your ground, tell him you’re not doing this.

but his voice — god, his voice, so quiet, so sincere — washes over you like a wave, and you feel yourself starting to slip. you exhale a shaky breath, your fingers clutching at the sheets like it might anchor you, but it doesn’t.

you tilt your head back against the pillow, closing your eyes, feeling the heat rise in your body.

“i’m sure,” you whisper, the words almost foreign on your tongue.

the moment you say it, you feel his mouth on you, his lips pressing softly at first, but then growing urgent, demanding as his hands slide down, holding your hips, guiding you towards him.

you lose track of everything — of the time, of the reason you told yourself you’d never go down this road with him again. his mouth is on your neck, then your chest, trailing down, his fingers already tracing the lines of your skin, the pads of them brushing so delicately against your stomach that your breath hitches.

you don’t know when your legs part, but they do, instinctively, welcoming him closer. his tongue dips between your legs, the warmth of it sending a jolt straight through you, and you can’t stop the gasp that escapes your lips.

your hands fly to his hair without thought, pulling him closer, urging him on, as his mouth works its way down, slow and deliberate, as if he’s savoring every inch of you. your breath comes faster, your heart pounding, and for a moment, everything else fades away.

all of it blurs until there’s nothing but him, the way he’s touching you, the way he knows exactly what to do.

his tongue flicks against your clit and swirls in slow, deliberate motions that make your legs twitch. the sensation has your body reacting before your mind can catch up, every nerve burning with heat. you can feel the coil tightening in your stomach, like it’s pulling you closer to the edge, and you curse yourself for getting so close so fast.

it’s embarrassing how easily he gets under your skin, how quickly he makes you lose control. the soft pressure of his mouth makes it impossible to think straight, to remember why you shouldn’t let this happen. every time he moves, his tongue tracing circles, flicking faster, slower, it makes your breath catch.

you want to say something — anything — to make him stop, but you dont find it in you to do so. it’s like he’s always known exactly what you need, and even if you try to push him away, he only pulls you deeper into this mess.

you hate to admit it, but you’ve missed him. you’ve missed this fucking idiot yoon jeonghan. missed his voice, his face, his scent, how he feels against you.

but you let go of the emotional shit for now just as his tongue prods at your entrance. his hands gripping your thighs, pulling you even closer. you can’t stop yourself from giving in.

“hannie—” you gasp, your voice weak, barely a whisper, and you let the nickname slip before you can stop yourself. he lifts his head up, his chin and mouth covered in your juices just as a low groan escapes from deep in his chest.

and just like that, you’re lost. you lose control. everything you thought you knew about what you wanted, what you needed, disappears in the rush of his touch, in the pull of his body, in the way he makes you forget how wrong this is.

and when he continues, each slow stroke of his tongue, each press of his mouth, you let yourself slip, even if you know its not a good idea.

the coil snaps.

your legs snap shut, pleasure coursing through your body. you can’t contain it, can’t hold back the wave crashing over you. every muscle in your body tightens, and your grip on jeonghan’s hair tightens along with them, pulling him even closer.

you come undone all over his face, trembling as you ride out your high. it feels like too much, like it’s going to swallow you whole, and yet, it’s exactly what you need. you don’t want to stop, don’t want this moment to end, even as the aftershocks make your body twitch with sensitivity.

he runs his hands over your hips, your thighs, your stomach, soothing you.

you’re left panting, flushed, and all you can focus on is him — how he’s holding you, how his mouth still lingers on your skin even after you’ve come undone.

“hmm, seems like my way of making it up to you is enough already, angel.”