#can’t remember when I last time got to start a new year with a brand new notebook (I don’t just buy new ones for every year bc I’m dumb and

[why-the-heck-not]

Gonna go buy a new bullet journal notebook today !! Why are these the things that make me so damn motivated; new notebook, new me quite honestly. Hoping they’ll have that one dark green one in stock (they say they do in the website but u never know)

[corroded-hellfire]

Kitten Licks - Eddie Munson x Reader

Note: Eddie Munson and cats are literally two of my favorite things in the world, so voila. 

Summary: Eddie goes to feed the stray cats in the trailer park, but when he gets there, he finds a girl he’s never met before.

Warnings: none i don’t think?

Words: 1.7k

There were a lot of misconceptions about living in a trailer park. Everyone assumed people in Forest Hills would have a specific, southern accent, despite the fact that it was Indiana. Not every home was worn down, though there were some that had gone a few years without upkeep. Most everyone was clean, and Eddie could come up with maybe one person who was missing some teeth. But one part of the trope proved true at the small community in Hawkins. There were trailer park cats.

           They’d been there as long as Eddie could remember, and he’d been secretly feeding them for just as long. Giving food to stray cats didn’t fit in with his brand of DND playing metal head, but he had a soft spot for the furballs. Eddie used to hide the bag of cat food under his bed when he was a kid but stopped trying to hide his compassion for the animals and started keeping it in the pantry. He didn’t care if Wayne knew.

           New kittens were born every few months it seemed, and the meowing gang was always growing in size. The cats spent most of their time at the edge of the forest that neighbored the trailer park, but if Eddie went a few days without showing up, they’d venture further into the park to seek him out. He did his damnedest not to name them so he wouldn’t get attached, but he couldn’t help but give monikers to some of his favorites.

           Today had been a rougher than usual day for Eddie. Not that school wasn’t always brutal with the bullying and the hard classes and the snotty popular kids, but Eddie was pretty sure a third first day of senior year would be shitty for anyone. Third time was a charm, hopefully?

As soon as Eddie got home, he had the itch to get high. He knows himself though, and knows he’ll get super hungry, so he goes to grab a bag of chips to bring with him in his room. When he opens the pantry, his eyes land on the bag of cat food. Eddie’s brows pinch together as he tries to remember the last time he went to visit the felines. It’s been a little while. Normally, some of the cats would have made their way to the trailer by now. Especially the biggest one, a ginger tabby who acted like the leader of the pack. Tommy, Eddie calls him. He knows Tom Cat isn’t the most original name, but it’s not like he shares this with anyone anyway. Maybe he’s named after Tommy Lee, Eddie tells himself.

Eddie grabs the bag of food and heads towards the door. Hopefully the cats were alright. He wasn’t sure the last time they were this patient in waiting for him. Black boots thunk down the porch steps and Eddie makes his way to the edge of the property. His mind is wandering, straying to the different classes and teachers he had this year and if it was likely he’d actually pass everything this time around. Body on autopilot, Eddie turns around the last trailer before the cat hideout comes into view. Normally, when he swung around this corner, the meows in anticipation for food would begin. But there was silence. Eddie’s heart lurches at the silence until he sees the gaggle of cats in their normal spot, most of them already eating.

There’s a girl in the middle of the group, sitting among the cats. Small bowls surround her and by the smell, Eddie assumes they’re filled with tuna fish. Eddie tilts his head in curiosity and walks closer to the girl. Some of the cats lift their heads and meow at him in greeting. A few rub against his legs as he walks and he can’t help but smile down at them.

The meows make the girl turn around to look behind her and Eddie’s chest immediately aches. He doesn’t know where the phrase “heart skipped a beat” came from, because it felt like his was a thundering drum roll. She smiles at him, and every thought leaves his head. She’s hands down the most beautiful girl Eddie has ever seen.

“Hi,” she says. Her voice is even better than the sound of his guitar.

“Hi,” Eddie answers. He knows he’s staring but he doesn’t know how to fix it. Her hair is so shiny, and her smile is so perfect, how could anyone not stare? He manages to shake off his shock and sits down next to the girl. A small gray kitten climbs in his lap and lets out a piercing mewl. Eddie reaches down to scratch between his ears before looking back at the girl.

“You’re new here.” It’s not a question. He knows he would’ve noticed her before.

“I am,” she confirms. “Just moved from Kentucky.”

“And what brings you to this paradise?” Eddie asks as an all-black cat purrs and rubs itself against the girl’s arm.

“My mom.” She looks down and strokes her hand over the black cat’s messy fur. “Hiding from the latest ex-boyfriend of hers.”

“Oh.” He didn’t know how to respond to that. He wasn’t sure she’d want to talk about it, anyway. “It seems the cats like you.”

“Are you why they trusted me as soon as they smelled the food?” She smiles and nods her head at the bag of cat food at his feet.

“Must be,” he answers. “I’ve never seen anyone else feed them. But now that you’ve given them the good stuff, they might not be so satisfied with this dry bargain brand crap.”

Her smile crinkles her eyes and Eddie knows he’s a goner. But as if to prove him wrong about the food, Tommy stalks over and starts to chew on the bottom corner of the cat food bag.

“Dude,” Eddie says. He pulls the bag away so he can pour some out. “You didn’t have enough tuna, huh?”

“He didn’t have any,” the girl tells him. “He’s the only one who wouldn’t come near me.”

“Really?” Eddie looks over at her in surprise as Tommy begins to crunch the food on the grass in front of him. “He’s the one I can count on to seek me out if I haven’t been by in a few days.”

“That’s so cute,” she gushes. “He must really like you.”

Eddie shrugs and looks back to the orange cat. He keeps his eyes down on the food, never glancing up at Eddie to make sure he isn’t going to try and take it away.

“I guess he trusts me,” Eddie says.

“Where are you at?” the girl asks. “How far does the cutie have to venture to find you?”

“Oh. Just around the corner there,” Eddie says, gesturing in the direction of his trailer.

“Near Max?” she asks.

“You’ve met her?”

“Yeah, I live in the trailer next to hers,” she says.

“I live right across from her.”

“Oh.” She sounds pleasantly surprised, to Eddie’s delight. “That’s good to know. You go to Hawkins High?”

“Unfortunately,” he says.

“Tell me about it,” the girl says with a sigh. “I had a bad first day, so I decided to come out here with the cats.”

“Really?” Eddie raises his eyebrows. “I did the same. Somehow these fuzzballs can make a bad day better.”

“They do,” she agrees. A small tortoiseshell kitten crawls in her lap and settles down for a nap. “Okay, don’t make fun of me, but I named this one.”

Eddie watches as she strokes her finger down the multicolored cat’s spine.

“I’m the last one to make fun of anybody,” Eddie says. “Plus, this big guy here is Tommy to me, anyway.”

She grins up at Eddie before looking back down to the kitten. “I named this cutie Ember. Because she has those little spots of orange that look like little fireballs.”

“That’s perfect,” Eddie says. And he means it. The name suits the sleeping little bundle of fur in her lap. “I’m Eddie, by the way.”

           She introduces herself and little Ember meows her high-pitched little kitten meow when she says her name. Both she and Eddie laugh, but not too loudly for fear of waking her up again.

           “I’ve never had a pet before,” she says. Her eyes never leave Ember as she scratches between her ears.

           “Neither have I,” Eddie replies. “I doubt these guys have ever had owners.”

           “Guess it’s a mutual relationship, then,” she says. She scratches under Ember’s chin for a few quiet minutes before she speaks, keeping her eyes on the kitten the whole time. “Can I ask you something?”

           “Sure.” He almost said “anything,” but he was able to keep it in at the last moment.

           “Would it be okay if I had lunch with you at school?” She swallows thickly and Eddie wouldn’t be surprised if her eyes were tearing up by the hitch in her voice. “You seem nice and today I had lunch out in the parking lot by myself.”

           “Of course,” Eddie says. “But I should warn you.”

           Now she looks up at him and her eyes are just barely shiny from unshed tears.

           “Of what?” she asks.

           “I sit with the biggest losers,” Eddie says with a laugh. “We all play Dungeons and Dragons and like the nerdiest shit. So, you might be called a freak just for associating with us.”

           She shrugs and shakes her head. “You don’t sound like freaks to me. You sound like a good group of friends. I would love to sit with you.”

           “We’d love to have you.” He pauses, internally debating before he gives in and continues. “I’d love to have you.”

           She smiles thankfully and Eddie isn’t sure he’s going to get used to that thumping in his chest she’s giving him.

           “Does the cafeteria serve good food?” she asks.

           “It’s not the best. Why?”

           She giggles and nods her head at Ember in her lap.

“I gave them all my lunch for the week.”

[nekonanamii]

All for the best pt. 1— Toji x Fem! Reader

Your boyfriend Suguru doesn’t treat you as good as he used to. Maybe it’s because he’s busy getting his balls drained by someone else.

Just keep reading, I promise you this is a Toji x reader fic <3

Suguru and you have been together for years. You’ve been together since university, but ever since you moved to a bigger and more lavish apartment, things just haven’t been the same.

“Sorry honey I’ll be out til late I have a business meeting over dinner” he says in a text.

You can’t even remember the last time you had dinner together. You’ve had your doubts thinking he can’t possibly have business meetings over dinner that often but you kept telling yourself that your dear Suguru was faithful and loyal to you.

Little did you know that he was busy getting his balls drained by none other than the real estate agent who sold you two the new apartment. The very one you’re currently in right now.

It started with some light and friendly flirting between the two over apartment viewings, followed by the real estate agent’s skirt getting skimpier and skimpier each time they met for a viewing, the agent couldn’t help but gawk at how beautiful this man was and how sexy he was too. Suddenly, Suguru’s pants were by his ankles and the agent was on her knees sucking him dry.

By some odd chance, while the agent was showing him the new shower system this apartment had, the water accidentally turned on and got her white blouse wet, and by some odd coincidence, she had nothing underneath.

“Fuck you set this up didn’t you?” Suguru says as he pumps his cock in and out of her cunt.

Of course she planned this. Why on earth would she forget to wear a bra today?

And just like that Suguru spends more and more time fucking your real estate agent and blowing load after load into her cunt. What’s worse is that you have no idea they’ve fucked in every single room of your new apartment.

It’s Monday and you’re buying groceries for you and your boyfriend. You can’t help but think about how you don’t even need to get as much groceries as before because Suguru doesn’t even eat his meals at home anymore. So there you are, with half the amount of groceries you usually get and more wine in your cart than actual food.

“Sorry honey I’m spent. Maybe tomorrow.” Suguru says as you try to initiate some sort of sexual contact. What gives? You know your boyfriend has a high libido, but ever since you both moved apartments he just doesn’t seem to want any action?

You have your suspicions sure but Suguru would never cheat on you, right?

Wrong.

It’s 10:19pm on a Friday, you were supposed to be at your parents house til Monday but you and your mom had a small little argument about when you were gonna get married and give her grandkids, you’d love to give her answers I mean you’ve been with your boyfriend for 6 years now it was bound to happen sometime soon right? As you opened the door, you heard music. It was the type of jazz you know Suguru loves to listen to as he drinks his favorite whiskey. As you get closer to the living area, you hear it. Little whimpers and someone saying your boyfriend’s name as if it were a prayer.

You watched as your boyfriend roughly fucked into your real estate agent on your brand new couch that you picked with both her ankles on his shoulders. Your loyal and faithful boyfriend of 6 fucking years was thrusting hard while yelling out a string of curses about how much he loved her cunt.

Sickening.

Tears streamed down your face. You didn’t make a sound, but the tears were gushing out of your eyes. The pair were too busy fucking each other’s brains out to even notice you were there. You couldn’t even move. You wanted earth to just swallow you whole.

Suguru grabs the remote to the speakers and that’s when he sees you. “Y/n I-“

You sob. Uncontrollably and miserably.

~

The series of events that followed was a nightmare.

All Suguru had to say was “it just kinda happened, you weren’t there and I was lonely.”

Bullshit.

6 fucking years down the drain.

You buried yourself even more into your work. Spending longer hours at the office. Doing more work than the actual scope of your position.

Your boss took note of this. After all your were his favorite secretary. You were also the most competent.

You worked at Fushiguro Corp and you were the Mr Toji Fushiguro’s secretary.

~

Today was a special day, it was the celebration of the merger between Fushiguro Corp. and Gojo enterprises.

You were on your 4th glass of champagne and you were feeling the best you’ve felt in weeks after having gone through the worst betrayal of your life. You head to the viewing deck of the location your company held the celebration at. Little did you know that your boss was there first.

“Ms y/n, careful now you might fall off” he says as you rest your elbows on the railings

You’re a bit startled to see your boss out here, you can’t help but think to yourself how sexy he looks in his suit

Your boss let’s our a small chuckle, “Yeah you think so?”

Oh god did you just say your thoughts out loud? Shit. You did.

His large hand lands on the small of your back, pulling your closer to him.

“Now now, be careful, I told you you might fall”

~

And just like that Toji was pumping you full of his cum. He hates it when you waste even a single drop, hell he’ll fuck each and every single drop back into you.

You were his sweet little secretary and right now you’re splayed over his lap in the middle of a workday in his office receiving a harsh slap for letting his cum drip down your legs.

“M’ sorry it was just so much sir—” you sob as he gives you another harsh slap. He has a finger plugged into your pussy making sure his load stays inside.

Toji loved how easy it was to make you his good litte girl. You were smart, great at your job, and even though you were lousy at keeping his cum in your pretty little cunt, he thought you were absolutely perfect.

Your boss was a busy man with a tight schedule. He frequently had business trips abroad, he usually brought along multiple secretaries with him on these trips but on this particular one it was just you.

Of course you were on his private jet getting dick shoved down your throat as he took in a work call. Toji told you to stay quiet but how can you when he’s pushing your head deeper into him. Your boss ends the call, he pulls up your head and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief.

“Aww little girl couldn’t take my cock?” He says smirking as he looks at you.

There you were on your knees with saliva dripping down your mouth, glossy eyes, flushed cheeks, and red puffy lips.

God what a sight he thought to himself.

Just as you were about to say something he plunges his cock back into your mouth as he holds both sides of your head. He fucks into your throat while praising you for how obedient you were taking him in just like that.

“Good girl now be a doll and unbotton your shirt, I wanna see your pretty tits”

As soon as you exposed yourself to him, Toji’s pace became more erratic.

“Fuck, baby you’re so fucking beautiful fuck me—”

Your boss cums down your throat then pulls out of your swollen lips to cum on your face and your tits. It’s crazy how much cum he has. Honestly.

You get to the destination. It’s a private island. Your sneaky boss disguised this getaway as a work trip.

The villa you were staying at had a large double door facing the ocean. You would’ve enjoyed taking in the soft sounds of the water and the stars out tonight if you weren’t on all fours getting pounded like there’s no tomorrow.

~

Several months later your belly’s all round as Toji lightly fucks into you. “Wouldn’t want our precious little princess to get hurt, yeah?”

This man was truly insane.

You thought that the fact that you were pregnant, Toji would have some common sense to lay off you a little more.

Wrong.

Toji loves seeing you round with his baby. Fuck he thinks you look the sexiest like this.

He can’t wait to fuck another baby into you. <3

~

Your little princess is turning 1 and you were back to getting pounded non-stop, always having your pussy filled with this man’s cum.

Toji loves you, he proposed as soon as you got back from that “business trip” with him. He promised he’d take care of you and love you forever.

This man not only married you but gave you your beautiful darling daughter, and he can’t wait until he gets you knocked up again <3

Honestly, I just need Toji in my damn guts

Also! I made a second part (ish!) pov you’re the real estate agent 🫣

[veritable-trash]

maybe it's never truly over

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader(nickname used but no descriptors!)

Summary: It's been a long time since you've seen each other. For you it hasn't been long enough but for Miguel things are a bit more complicated.

Word Count: 1K

Rating: E - for eventual smut, friends to enemies to friends to lovers i think??? this chapter is tame just seeing if people are interested in what i might decide to cook up <3 :)

A/N: alright alright alright like literally everyone i watched spiderverse and have now descended into the black hole of being obsessed with every character from that movie but this one right here????? yes yes i like him very much. anyways wrote this for fun think i might try another series and see what comes of it. this is not sticking to any canon(lol miguel would be PISSED but this is my multiverse bitch!) because there's such a depth to his character that i want to just play with in this story potentially.

anyways if you like this little intro and want to read more and see where these two little weirdos spin their way off to reblog, send me thirsty thoughts about this man, comment to your heart's content about how his body is shaped like a dorito and i want to eat HIM!

also @dameronscopilot wrote an absolute SPICED piece for Miguel so go read that now if anyone sees this!!!!!

enjoy :)))))))))

masterlist weeeeeeeee

~~~~~

There was something different about today. 

Air shimmering like it was about to crystallize and crack at any given moment. 

Like the world was gonna stop all of a sudden and dissolve into some weird cosmic puddle. 

But not for you. Never for you because even when things felt like they were about to snap, crackle, pop, your life tended to stay a bit boring. It had been a long, long time since you’d felt any kind of twinkle in your life, and you didn’t mind it. The last time things had fizzled like that you’d been left a bit shattered yourself. 

Even still, the niggle at the nape of your neck wouldn’t let up. even the sidewalk seemed to wobble under your feet as you traversed the packed streets of Nueva York. Your palms can’t help but start sweating, heart kicking up its pace as the people around you seem to crowd and crowd and crowd. 

Alley. You need to find an alley and fucking breath. 

You turn in fast on the tight corridor, the smell of garbage helping to clear the dizziness in your head but it still isn’t gone. The feelings still there. Why won’t it just fucking leave you-

“Lyla I got it. Just check the other dimensions and report back to me I haven’t seen any signs of them here.”

And now you know why this an entire day has been like walking through jelly.

Because the second Miguel O’Hara turns around and sees you, everything absolutely shatters.

It’s been years, maybe over a decade since he’s seen you, but you’ve seen plenty of him. The magazines, the news, online, every god damn street corner of this godforsaken city conveniently reminds you of this Dorito-shaped dip shit man. 

Nothing changes in his demeanor, to an unseasoned eye, but you remember Miguel from before. Gabe’s older brother Miguel, mama’s boy Miguel, your best friend Miguel, and his eyes can’t hide the things you know deep in his heart. 

You don’t even know what to say. There’s nothing left in your brain, just him, still staring, but now from new heights, with new scars, and it scares the shit out of you.

And pisses you the fuck off.

“So what? You go radio silent for over ten years and now you’re gonna stalk me in some alley like creep? Very on brand Miguel but I thought you would have fucking grown up by now.”

His shoulders tense and you can’t stop the way your lips curve as you sense you’ve gotten to him, even if only a little. But then he’s turning away, slowly walking down the alley towards the brick wall and you realize he’s not going to say anything to you. That he’s going to just leave again without a single fucking word.

“Miguel if you don’t turn the fuck around right now and say something to me I will beat the shit out of you I swear to god. I know your weak spots don’t make me fucking use it!”

(it’s just under his ribs, but only on the right side)

“Bichito, pleas-“

“Don’t you dare fucking call me that. Don’t you fucking dare. You lost the right to call me that when you disappeared on me. Fuck you Miguel, honestly I don’t even have anything left to say to you just fuck off.”

This time his face face does crumple just a little bit and you preen at his pain. Suck it into your lungs as the boy who trampled your heart finally gets a taste of how you bled. 

You turn back to the chaos of the street and throw yourself into the people, away from Miguel and all the bullshit, earth shattering happening behind you. It’s been a long time since you’ve needed Miguel O’Hara and it’ll be an even longer time before you come back around to his antics.

Probably never.

~~~~~

He fucked up. 

Miguel didn’t know how he’d dropped the ball this hard, but he’d fucked up big time and for once it didn’t involve some stupid fucking multiverse drama. 

It involved you. 

You, the girl from down the block who used to wrestle Gabriel and make flower crowns out of the flowers growing between the cracks in the concrete. 

You, the girl who stayed up till the sky started to turn pink again listening to him rant on and on about his shitty dad and his shitty life.

You, his Bichito, his little bug, his best friend, the center of what he thought was his tiny little universe so many years ago. 

But he’d left that behind. Thought that he could find something else, find something better, finally be happy in ways he’d never even dreamed of.

And look at where it had gotten him. 

He wasn’t ever supposed to run into you again. He was supposed to be vigilant, cautious, knew that running into you would derail him a thousand times over and he had bigger things to be focusing on. Multiverse-altering, dimension-destroying things to focus on.

Yet the universe had dropped you both in that alley and something deep in his chest rippled with feelings he couldn’t seem to find a word for. It was fucking terrifying and he wasn’t going to let it fester. 

He had things to do. Universes to fix. An ever growing mantle of responsibility hanging of his shoulders.

A constant reminder of his fuck ups and the reality that he wasn’t going to let himself slip up again. 

And yet as his claws carry him up and onto the rooftops of Nueva York, Miguel O’Hara has a terrifying suspicion that he may no longer be able to stay away. 

~~~~~

hehehehAHAHHAHA god i love this twisted little sad sack man who just wants to be all rough and tough. anyways haven't written in ages and this character has gotten me at least sorta interested in writing so i just wanted to throw this out there, get something moving, even if i go back into dormancy for another millenia.

well heart eyes for you guys and forehead kisses for anyone who reads i hope your day is a dream <33333333333

[cloudlessly-light]

Another Hotchniss filth age gap idea for you bestie: How about Dave is emily's father figure (not necessarily her step-dad but he has always been there when her real parents weren't) and Aaron is his best friend….so she's essentially fucking her dad's best friend haha

A/N: Bestie you know I love the AU’s and the age difference so you KNEW this was right up my alley lol. I hope you like our idiots being filthy together!

Title: From boys to men  Summary: From the moment Emily meets Aaron she knows that she has to have him, she doesn’t care that he’s older than her, doesn’t care that he’s Dave’s best friend. She wants him. Word count: 3,8k Rating: Explicit   Warnings: Smut, oral sex, dirty talk, choking, age difference, (Emily is 22, Aaron is 40-ish)

“Bella!”

The familiar sound of Dave’s voice makes her hurry downstairs from where she had been packing up the last few things that she still had in her parents’ home.

“Dave!” She beams and happily accepts the tight hug and kiss to her cheek. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, kiddo.”

Dave had been in her life as long as she could remember, a close friend to her parents and the one who she had come to know as a second father. In some ways he had always been the one to look out for her, even when she didn’t want it. They had only gotten closer when she moved back to the states for college. And now she was moving to her own apartment, her dorm room all packed up and she was starting a new part of her life, a part she was excited for.

“Have you got everything you need?” Dave asks just as a second figure appeared in the doorway and Emily swore she had never seen a more attractive man. “Oh right, Emily this is Aaron, one of my best friends. He’s kind enough to help out.”

“Like you’d be able to carry all those boxes without breaking your back, old man.” Aaron says causing Dave to feign hurt.

“Hey, you might be a decade younger but I am still wiser.” Dave jokes and Emily rolls her eyes. She had heard that before.

“Oh right, that’s how it goes.” Aaron teases gently and smiles at her while extending his hand. “Aaron Hotchner.”

“Emily Prentiss.” She takes his hand and shakes it, eyes locked on his. “Thanks for helping out.” When she pulls her hand back her palm tingles, the heat of his hand feeling like a brand on her skin.

“We should get going.” Dave interrupts, seemingly oblivious to the way Emily can’t tear her eyes off his best friend. “So we have time to unpack the heavy stuff and then I was thinking I’d treat you to dinner?” He looks between Aaron and Emily, his smile as kind as always.

“Sounds perfect.” She says and she sees Aaron nodding in her peripheral.

It was going to be a great day.

“So, how do you feel about living on your own?” Dave asked, chopsticks in hand. She smirked at him, knowing that he was more worried about her than anything else.

“It’ll be fine Dave, no need to worry.” She leaned back in her seat. “It’s like I’m an adult now.”

“You can’t blame me, you’re the closest thing I have to a daughter. And you’re barely an adult.” He shrugged and as much as she tried, she couldn’t keep herself from smiling.

“I’m 22 years old!” She laughs but secretly she loves that he cares for her in this way, her parents never did. “I’ll be okay, besides you’re 20 minutes away, it’s closer than when I was at Yale.”

“Yeah but-” The sound of Dave’s phone ringing cut him off and he sighed. “Sorry, I gotta take this.”

“Never met a busier man.” Aaron said once they were alone and she nodded as she looked at him from across the table.

She had spent most of the afternoon looking at him, feeling her mouth go dry by the way he effortlessly lifted heavy boxes, felt tingles down her spine as she watched his large hands flex as he helped her move the couch, she wondered what his hands would feel like on her body.

“So Aaron,” She made sure to put on a face of innocence “how do you know Dave?”

“We used to work together, before he retired.” Aaron leaned back slightly in his seat as he spun noodles around his chopsticks. “He trained me.”

“Oh, so you’re working for the FBI?” She made sure to keep eye contact, trying to size him up.

“Yeah, the behavioral analysis unit.” He smiled easily and Emily found herself wanting to press a finger against the dimple in his cheek.  

“No wonder you carried those boxes like they weighed nothing.” When one of his eyebrows arched she let out a breathy laugh. “Of course I noticed, how could I not?” She batted her eyelashes and she could see him swallowing and then cleared his throat.

“I’m flattered.” He said and looked down at his plate. He should not find a girl more than 15 years younger than him this attractive, he should not wonder what her lips tasted like or imagine the softness of her skin.

“Sorry about that.” Dave is suddenly there, sitting down and Aaron breathes a sigh of relief.

He could not go there with Emily, she was off limits.

It’s been three weeks since she moved and Aaron and Dave had both popped in to help out around the apartment, building furniture and painting walls even when she had told them both that she didn’t need their help. But she wasn’t going to argue too much, because seeing Aaron always ended with her hand between her legs later that night as she thought of him. She knew that he had caught on to the flirting, but he was still keeping his distance.

What he didn’t know was that what Emily wanted, she got. And she wanted him.

It was a warm Sunday when she got home from lunch with a friend. When she entered her apartment it was bordering on suffocatingly hot and she quickly made her way towards the AC. To her frustration it was dead and she had no idea what was wrong with it. She groaned as she pushed her hair out of her face.

“Great.” She muttered and reached for her phone to call Dave.

“Hey kiddo.” He sounded unusually happy she thought.

“Hey Dave, I have a question. What do you know about AC’s?” She started to move around the apartment to open the windows.

“Absolutely nothing.” He chuckled when she let out a sound of annoyance. “Besides, I’m in LA for the weekend, coming back tomorrow. But call Aaron, he might be able to help.”

Well that got her in a great mood.

“Okay, thanks.”

“Anytime Bella.”

She hung up and made her way towards her bedroom to change as she called Aaron.

“Aaron Hotchner.” He sounded distracted she thought.

“Hey, Aaron it’s Emily.” She kicked off her jeans and tore of her t-shirt as she kept him on speakerphone.

“Emily, are you alright?” She could hear the pause in his voice and she didn’t blame him.

“Yeah I’m fine, but my AC is out and I don’t know how to fix it and Dave is gone this weekend but he suggested that I could call you… Do you think you could come over?” She bit her bottom lip as she waited for his response that seemed to take forever.

“I can be there in an hour.”

Game on.

Almost exactly 60 minutes to the dot later, he was knocking on her door. When she opened it she saw the quick look of surprise on his face at the state of her undress. She had decided on a thin tank top and the shortest shorts she owned, blaming it on the heat if he dared to bring it up.

“Thank you for coming.” She smiled and gestured for him to come inside.

“Not a problem, hopefully I can figure it out.” As he moved towards the AC, she sat down on the couch.

“I’ll call someone tomorrow if you can’t.” She let her eyes move over him, he really was a stunning man. She wasn’t sure if he heard her, his focus already on the AC as he looked it over.

It didn’t take long, Aaron pushing buttons and looking over some of the wires before the buzz of the AC sounded through the apartment and Aaron laughed.

“Well, that was quick enough.” He said, his eyes lingering on her smooth thighs for a moment before forcing himself to look away.

“Sorry you had to drive all the way here for that.” She stood from the couch and batted her eyelashes as she slowly licked her bottom lip. When his eyes fastened on it she knew that she hadn’t imagined the way he had been looking at her.

“Not a problem. But now it’s fixed so I-” His words are cut off by the feeling of Emily’s hands pushing him against the wall. She’s so close that he can smell her perfume, could count her freckles and he knows that he should push her away, but he doesn’t.

“What are you doing?” He asks instead, voice low and the raspiness of it lets her know that he’s not unaffected by her proximity.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” She pushes up against him and he backs harder into the wall. With a smirk on her face she tilts her head as she looks up at him.

“We can’t.” He shakes his head, tries to rid himself of her perfume and soft body against his. Then her hand lands on his chest and he watches as she slowly moves it up to gently grab the back of his neck. When her nails scratch the base of his skull he swallows down a groan.

“Why not?” She doesn’t let his words deter her, she could feel his want pressing against her hip, could see how his pupils dilated.

“You’re too young.” He gets out through a clenched jaw and she laughs at his reply. “And you’re basically Dave’s daughter.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t” She tugs slightly on his short hair and his hands grab her hips in response. But he doesn’t push her away, and she knows she has him. “I want you. And I know you want me too.”

“Emily…” His fingers flex around her hips as he tries to keep some resemblance of control. But there’s no denying the want he feels when he looks at her, the attraction that had been clear the moment they met. When he opened his eyes she was even closer, her lips almost brushing against his. “I should have known you were trouble from the start.”

“You have no idea.” She whispers and then her lips press against his. The moment they kiss Aaron seems to give in fully, his hands moving from where they had been frozen on her hips to the small of her back, pulling her further into him. When his tongue licked at the seam of her lips she moaned softly and she swore she heard a sound of satisfaction from him.

He pushed her back, breaking their embrace and when he looked at her again, her breathing hitched. The hesitation that had previously been there was long gone as he looked at her with something dark, his eyes moving over her body slowly, deliberately and she felt her cheeks flush.

“What?” She finally asked, almost squirming under the intensity of his stare.

“You really are a gorgeous thing.” He muttered and caught her lips in another kiss, his hand firm around the back of her neck while the other sneaked under her tank top. He broke the kiss only to taste the skin of her jaw, her neck, taking note of what spots made her gasp and moan.

“Take of your shirt.” He said and Emily let out a breathy chuckle.

“So this is how this is going to go? You barking orders at me?”

“Yes.” The tone of voice was firm, determined, his face stern as he stared her down and she could feel her cheeks heating at the same time as heat settled as a dull ache between her legs. It’s his turn to smirk, happy with how fast the tables turned. “You don’t think I can’t tell that’s what you really want? What you crave?”

She swallowed hard when his fingers tangled in her hair, giving her a moment before pulling back, forcing her head back and she gasped.

“There she is.” He mumbled against her jaw. “See you’re not as good as you make yourself out to be in front of others, are you?”

“Aaron,” Her hands were fisting his shirt, close to ripping the fabric. In a matter of seconds he had taken complete control and she had never wanted anyone more. “Please.”

“Please what?” He nipped at her bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth and pulled lightly.

“More, fuck anything.” She breathed and he let go of her hair with a hum of satisfaction.

“Come on.” He put just enough distance between them to take her hand in his and dragged her towards the bedroom. When he turned back to her he quickly grabbed the hem of her top and pulled it over her head, a low groan sounding in his throat when he saw that she wasn’t wearing a bra. “Naughty girl.”

She didn’t get the time to respond, his lips once again on hers as they started to tear at clothes. Her hands moved over his strong chest, enjoyed the heat of his skin and the feel of his chest hair against her palms before moving further down to work on his jeans. With some help from him, she got them off, his jeans and boxers landing in a pile on the floor and her shorts soon following.

The sound that ripped from his throat when she wrapped her hand around his painfully hard shaft sent tingles along her body, and she knew she needed to hear it again. She pulled him into another kiss, only licking over his bottom lip for a moment before continuing to kiss down his jaw. His stubble was rough against her lips, a feeling she enjoyed until Aaron’s heavy hand pushed in her shoulder, urging her further down.

When her knees hit the floor with a soft thump she looked up at him with wide eyes, her hand still stroking him.

“Open your mouth Emily.” He pushes his thumb between her lips and when her tongue circles the pad of it he smiles. “Good girl.” He pulls his thumb out and gives her a nod and it’s the only thing she needs before she takes his cock in between her lips.

Her mouth is wet and hot and he hisses at the sudden pleasure as she licks around the tip of him, tasting his precum with a sigh before moving further down. He throws his head back as she takes more of him, he’s sure he’s never felt a more wicked mouth around him.

Emily keeps her eyes on him, gauges his reactions and feels smug as he groans and swears above her. Like he senses it he looks back at her, and his fingers tangle in her hair again. The scratch of his short nails against her scalp makes her moan and his hips buckles against her face in return to the vibrations around his shaft.

“Can you take it all?” He growls, fingers tightening slightly as she licks the length of him. She isn’t sure she can, he’s thick and long but she was damn well going to try so she nods. Her lips wraps around him again, and she slowly pushes forward, making sure to flick her tongue and relax her throat.

“Fuck, just like that.” He doesn’t push her forward, watches in awe as she chokes and her eyes turn glassy. “Gorgeous.” He mumbles, more to himself than anything as he watches how she pulls back to breathe and then takes him back in her mouth. This time she doesn’t stop until the entire length of him has disappeared and when she chokes, he groans at the way her throat contracts around him.

She pulls back gasping, a tear falling from her eye and he carefully brushes it away and she smiles, proud that she had done what he asked. As she tries to continue, his fingers tighten in her hair and she hisses at the pull.

“Come here.” He gasps and effortlessly pulls her up to stand again. His hands move over her body, taking in every curve and valley as he lays her on the bed. He listens to her moans as he sucks on a nipple, watches the flush on her skin as he touches her everywhere except where she wants. She tries to turn them, but he’s too strong and easily pins her down with a slight shake of his head. He licks between the valley of her breasts, sucks hard on her collarbone, making her mewl. When her legs spread for him he smiles against the skin of her neck.

“What do you need?” He whispers, one hand moving between her legs, gripping the soft skin of her thigh and then slowly moving further up.

“You.” She pants, her body feeling like it was on fire from his lips and touch. She could barely think, let alone form words and for a brief moment she wonders if this is what madness felt like. Then his fingers move through her, slowly, carefully and her hips twitch.

“So wet, all for me.” He wants to taste her, wants to make her fall apart again and again but his own need to feel her wins out and he quickly rolls between her spread legs. He groans at the heat of her against him, lets the length of him move against her as he claims her lips in a breathless kiss.

“Aaron, please.” She whimpers, and he knows that the sound of her begging him will stay with him forever. He keeps his eyes on hers when he pushes inside of her, wants to see the pleasure on her face. Her jaw turns slack, her eyes drift close and a moan, breathy and loud falls from her lips and he can’t help the way his hips snap in response.

Her legs wrap around his waist, causing him to go deeper inside of her and he groans lowly. He moves with long strokes, each of his thrusts met by her moving hips. She clings to him, her nails digging into his back as he fucks her hard enough for her body to jolt. The sounds that come from her are breathy and deep and unfamiliar to her, the pleasure he’s causing almost overwhelming.

“God you’re so fucking tight.” He rasps and she can only whine in response as he sneaks a hand between them to rub her clit. When her eyes roll back and her back arches into him, he takes advantage and sucks on one of her nipples.

It’s not long before she starts to feel the coiling in her belly, and she knows that Aaron feels the way she’s clenching around him when he looks down at her with a smug grin.

“If you stop I’ll kill you.” She breathes and he chuckles but he doesn’t stop.

“Already so close. It’s going to be fun to see how many times I can get you to fall apart for me.” His voice has dropped even further, his own arousal clear as he speaks. He moves up on his knees, continues to rub her clit and holds her hip with his other hand, keeping her in place as he pushes deep and hard inside of her.

She comes in only a few moments, tensing and shaking at the same time as she cries out loud enough that she knows the neighbors would be able to hear. It only seems to spur him on, his thumb insistent on her clit, and hips strong as he fucks her through it.

“One more.” He growls and she whimpers but nods. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he’d make her come again.

He grunts when she starts to clench around him again in no time at all and he rubs her clit faster. Watching Emily come might be the most erotic thing he’s ever seen and he knew right then that this wouldn’t be a one-time thing. She comes with a groan, hips buckling and head thrown back as she moans his name.

It isn’t until she’s sucking in desperate breaths of air that he slows to let her come down from her high. When her eyelids finally flutter open, her dark eyes are hazy and there’s a lazy smile on her lips.

“Let me ride you.” She says and he nods before laying down.

He watches with dark eyes as she straddles him, lets his hand rest on her hips as she starts to slowly grind on him.

“You’re so big.” She gasps, the fill of him close to painful as she moves above him. Her eyes find his, sees the same pleasure reflected in his eyes that she feels and she smiles.

“I know, baby.” He whispers as he enjoys the view of her on top of him. “You’re doing so good.”

“I want you to come inside of me.” She plants her hands on his chest and starts to move faster, lifting herself up and down. “I want to feel it.”

“Jesus Christ.” He grunts, his hips pushing up against her in response. “Make me come then, filthy thing.”

Emily keeps her hands on his chest as she grinds and rocks her hips above him, wanting him to feel as good as he had made her feel. When his hands grip her hips harder she knows he’s getting close and she lets him help her move. Then one hand moves from her hip to wrap around her neck and she gasps as she looks down at him, finding the look on his face close to wild.

“Fuck, that’s it.” He growls as he squeezes slightly around her neck. “Gonna come inside of you, pretty thing, don’t stop.”

She doesn’t. If anything her movements become frenzied, the feeling of his hand around her throat and the feeling of him inside of her driving her crazy. When his hand tightens and he groans her name she whines, the sound of his name falling from her lips and it’s the last nudge he needs before his hips stutter against her and he comes with a loud grunt.

His hands loosen and she switches to slowly roll her hips against his, drawing out his pleasure until he stops her with a breathless laugh.

“Give me 30 minutes and then we’re doing that again.” He says and she feels another rush of arousal settle in her belly.

“What’s the matter, old man?” She teases and he laughs.

“Do not even think about acting like a brat right now.” He pinches her side and she jerks before settling back over his lap, happy to watch him as he catches his breath.

“So, we’re doing this again?” She asks with smiles as she looks down at him.

“Oh yes, we’re definitely doing this again.” He gently pulls her down to kiss her. “There’s no way I’m letting go of you.”

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Can I Stay? (A Baekhyun Story) Part 1.

Pairing: You x Baekhyun

Rating: M

Word Count: 6.9k

Warnings: an unspecified age difference, this is an English story that uses the word Noona for lack of another word in English that carries the same feeling, if you don’t like this, then don’t read this story.

Author‘s note: remember all those years ago I said I’d write a Baekhyun x Noona fic? This is that fic.

Inspired by the Ray LaMontagne song Can I Stay

Links: Can I Stay: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Your new assistant was going to be a problem.

You clocked him as a problem before he walked through the doors of your office.

You spotted the danger a mile away the moment you saw the memo from the President of the company’s personal secretary advising you that a new member of your team would be starting today. A new member whose presence you’d never requested; who’s resume you’d never even seen, and whose last name was suspiciously identical to that company President’s whose Secretary was asking you — no, telling you to welcome your brand new, fresh out of college, probably fresh out of his dear mothers warm hugs and kisses embrace, with as much of a warm welcome as if you were welcoming the President himself.

Not only did you get thrust into your lap a most likely spoiled rotten nepotism baby, but now he was sitting across from your desk staring back at you with a bright beautiful smile of plenty of professionally straightened teeth and an even brighter happy go lucky personality that told you that this strapping young man had never known a day of struggle in his entire life — as short as that life had been so far.

An assistant should be younger than you anyway, right? You wouldn’t feel right bossing a homely old man around all day.

Did that young assistant have to be so very pretty though? Did he really have to be sitting there so damn moist and tender, looking at you with his head cocked to the side as if he had been jumping to as many conclusions about you as you had about him?

“I’m Byun Baekhyun. I like playing video games and working out. I can’t eat cucumber or spicy food. Please take care of me, Miss Manager Noona.” His words pulled his pink lips into a pout as he spoke and the sounds of his voice had just enough of a nasal whine that you wondered if he simply always got his way all of the time with everyone he knew.

You frowned and ticked your head back and forth at the name he called you. “Just Manager.” You corrected sternly and his wide smile dipped into a pronounced pout. The kind one might see on a little kid who’d just dropped his ice cream cone. You heard a nasal grunt of complaint come from the back of his throat and you hated how quickly that sound strummed a particular chord inside of your chest. You felt weirdly rebuked for the quick rebuttal and your lips dropped open almost against your will, “I mean, it’s just that…”

Just when you’d opened your mouth to speak he’d already moved on, “So what do I do here, Miss Manager…?” His words out loud stopped at the word Manager but you caught the movement of his lips as he silently mouthed the forbidden word ‘Noona.’ Clearly thinking he’d gotten away with something, his bright smile was back and as he asked his question he leaned forward with both of his elbows bent on the edge of your desk. His head peaked around to steal glimpses at the various pieces of work both open on your desk and brought up on your computer screen. You had been up to your ass in it before he walked in here and the thought of pausing all of this progress to train this guy was making your stress ulcer act up. You had deadlines to meet if you were going to get this script to the Assistant Directors in time for them to begin filming the next episode. The directors had deadlines, the locations were booked and paid for, the sponsor checks had long ago been cashed, and the reality show talent had a schedule that, contractually, could not be delayed. You simply did not have time for this inexperienced man to be asking you silly questions like “So what do I do here, Noona?”

You pulled a long breath into your lungs through your nose and closed your eyes for a moment, harnessing your self control. It wasn’t his fault you were overwhelmed with work. It wasn’t his fault he was born into a life of privilege and comfort. It wasn’t his fault that you didn't have time to train an entire new employee on the complicated job that sat before you. It was, maybe, perhaps his fault though, that the full head of bottle blonde hair you saw on top of his head had just enough highlights in it to bring out the pink in his cheeks and lips and make him look like something straight out of a boy band.

By the time you’d finished taking in your several calming deep breaths and you put your eyes back on him he was standing over your desk with his eyes peering over the document you had been working through for the past hour.

He was reading and mouthing the words, although from upside down you doubted he could tell what he was looking at, yet you watched curiously as he stuck a slim finger forward to touch the corner of one of the papers. You had been going over translations. Making sure the wording was correct, yes, but ultimately safe for widespread distribution. Your copy had red slashes through it with changes and suggestions. You were the final set of eyes that would approve this language that would be distributed proudly with your companies name all over the world.

“I think this one is no good,” he pointed to a single word on the document that had seemed innocuous enough for you to skip over it entirely. “That word,” his fingertip was stopped on a noun in the middle of the page, “means something very, very naughty in Brazil.”

Your eyes glanced down to where he pointed, surprised first for him to catch on to this task so quickly without you even having to explain it, and second to learn that sometimes a seashell is not just a seashell.

“That’s what you are doing with this, right?” He was grabbing the stack of papers from your desk now. “Give it, you have more important things to do, Miss Manager…” Again his lips continued the next two syllables in silence and you realized that this man was probably the most stubborn person you would ever meet in your entire life, and you were about to be permanently sealed into his mind as his Noona, whether you allowed it or not.

And it wasn’t that you approved of any of this anyway. But by the time your brain turned back on, the documents were already in his hands and he grabbed the red pen and started marking the page on top.

You had no choice but to allow it. The mere thought of someone taking away even a fraction of your workload felt like some sort of a dream come true. Plus, it really did seem like he had some idea of what he was doing. Part of you was genuinely curious as to how he would do.

You glanced over at him occasionally as he read through the pages making his notes and you soon found yourself immersed in the next task that was due soon.

Your focus was interrupted when a chipper sing-songy tune sounded out in his voice beside you, “I’m do-ne,” he called out and the script plopped down on your desk. His eyes were bright and his wide smile was back as his eyebrows wagged in the direction of the stack of papers he’d proudly presented you with.

You’d only made it through the first page when he started speaking again — this time without the singing.

“Did I do well? Do you like it? Can I stay?”

You were leafing through the pages, finding the spot where you left off and where he took over and you quickly read through the lines, taking care to read every suggestion he had made as well as the suggestions he had not made on the chance that in his inexperience he had missed something.

It looked pretty good. You didn’t tell him that though.

“Where did you say you came from again Mr…?”

“Baekhyun. I am Byun Baekhyun and I am yours now. You can use me however you like.” His wide smile had not so much as trembled since he’d brought the script back to you and the jovial attitude did not let up as he delivered to you one of the strangest, most ridiculous promises you’d ever received from anyone in your professional career.

You kept your face blank and ignored his eagerness. At least he was enthusiastic.

“Can you take this down to QC for final approval, Baekhyun…and do you have, like, a resume or something I can look at?”

He nodded with his eyes wide and he was digging through his bag for something. What he handed back to you was a tablet. The electronic kind that kept the little kids quiet at restaurants. His fingers tapped on the screen as he peered over your shoulder he brought up a picture in his photo gallery that seemed to be just a screen shot of his resume. He had to flip past various personal pictures as he did it and you did your best not to focus on any of it until he’d reached the one intended for you to see. There was nothing inappropriate from the looks of it. But it didn’t seem polite of you to snoop.

You did see some things though. Not that you were trying to see anything, but the picture right before the resume was one of him sitting in the driver’s seat of some fancy foreign car with a sweet smile on his face and a different color of hair that if you were being honest looked just as good, if not better than the blonde he had now.

“Sorry Noon—Uhh, Miss Manager, I don't have a printed copy on me but you can look at it there.” His hands were busy putting the paperwork carefully into a large white envelope so he could deliver it all to Quality Control and his head whipped back around with an afterthought for you, “You can just scroll to see the next page, okay?”

He was gone before you could answer him.

His resume showed promise. He’d graduated from an expensive Ivy League, of course, and had spent a few years abroad on various internships, no doubt landed with the ease of his family’s connections in the industry. You’d reached the end of the first page feeling somewhat hopeful that this time your new assistant would prove himself to be quite useful to you for however long he stayed in such a bottom level position. He would probably last no longer than a half a year before he rocketed to the top of the chain of command. The next page had various awards and honors achieved throughout his education and you glanced at the dates that he attended school, cursing your ability to do some quick mental math to guess his age.

He was young. A good amount of years younger than you, that was certain. Of course he was young, his skin still had traces of that smooth soft baby fat in his cheeks. Your finger scrolled back to the first page of his resume and with your fingertip still connected to the glass you allowed the picture to backtrack just a little, so the edges of the image of him smiling behind the steering wheel of that car showed just a little.

You had no business doing this. What were you thinking? You were just some delusional old lady thankful that she had an extra five minutes to her own thoughts thanks to her brand new assistant’s skills with a red pen. You quickly swiped away, back to the safety of the approved viewing material. Page one of Byun Baekhuun’s resume. You swiped again, a little too forceful for this tablet and page two quickly filled your screen. Perhaps the third swipe you made was out of spite but you gasped out loud when the next image in his picture gallery filled the screen of the tablet completely.

A wave of panic filled you and you quickly raced to undo what you had just done, what you had just seen.

You went back. It wasn’t enough.

You went back again, desperate for what you had just seen to be erased from your memory, but no matter how long you stared at the words on that screen, no matter how forcefully you exited out of the gallery entirely, closing the whole thing up and then finally giving up, locking the tablet and putting it to sleep, that image crept back up again and again and again.

Soon the desperation turned to bargaining. And bargaining turned to acceptance. It was normal really for a woman like you, a single, lonely, overworked woman like you to have this sort of reaction to accidentally seeing an attractive shirtless man standing poolside with the sun at his back and wetness glistening over his skin and broad chest and abs and other various well defined, firm, manly muscles.

Anger followed next. You were pretty sure you were going in the wrong order here, but how dare he put that picture in his tablet and just tell you to scroll. It was so easy for him to say it too as if he wanted you to find the picture and admire the time and work he put into building all of those muscles in his body. What if you had been caught in a trap. What if this was some sort of a test by HR to see if you needed to be sent to sensitivity training for sexual predators. What if there was a tracking device on that picture and there was now a blaring nipple warning happening in some control room upstairs.

A soft and pleasant ding interrupted your thoughts and you had a message waiting from Dami in the QC department. Baekhyun must have delivered the package by now. A quick glance at the clock on your computer told you that he had been gone for some time now and you half wondered if perhaps he had gotten lost on his way back.

“Oh my god. WHO. WAS. THAT?!!!??”

“I take it you got the revisions — please be quick, I’ve had 1st AD breathing down my neck all morning.”

“Gotcha. You made some interesting choices with this but I'm into it. What was wrong with those seashells?”

“Vulgar slang, censored in the Brazil market.”

“Ohh-la-la, great catch! This is why you’re the best.”

Her latest message stared back at you as your fingers refused to type a response. The last thing you wanted was to accept someone else’s work as your own, but you also really want to spend too much time on this distracting conversation that was keeping you and her both from your work. A simple emoji would do the trick. A smiley face, or a rolled eyes emoji maybe. Something that didn't exactly make claims to the potential slip up that Baekhyun caught on his first upside down glance at the script that you somehow missed even after looking over it twenty times.

Maybe you needed to brush up on your international slang terms for various sexual acts and their involved genitalia.

“My new assistant, Baekhyun, caught that one.” The long pause between her misdirected compliment and your delayed confession made you feel just a little bit guilty for any potential misunderstandings you might have opened yourself up to.

“Even his name is pretty.”

[She should see his muscles] an uninvited guest in the back of your brain whispered and you winced when it happened.

As soon as the thought crossed your mind you felt the shame of its aftermath course through you. That was the last thing you needed to be thinking about.

You didn't have much time to dwell on it because there was a sudden commotion outside of your office door. You heard the sound of someone’s shrill shouting, overdramatic screaming really and the telltale sounds of someone being thoroughly scolded. At the exact same time an alarm was sounding out on your phone telling you it was time to make it to your biweekly meeting with the directors and assistant directors upstairs. You quickly grabbed your laptop and calendar and made your way out of your door to see what in the world all of the fuss was about.

The carpet outside was littered with assorted papers and standing in the middle of the mess with his head hung down in shame was your assistant, looking sheepish and guilty. The source of the shrieking, as usual, was Carla, one of the less organized members of the translating team. You could see the now empty document tray sitting just at the edge of her desk and you imagined that she had set the whole thing precariously close to the edge again just tempting fate.

“What am I supposed to do with this now? This was my whole day’s work and you’ve made a huge mess of it all! Who even are you? Are you supposed to be in here?”

Baekhyun’s head dipped lower and his cheeks were bright pink as he was scolded again and again for bumping into her teetering tower and sending it crashing down to the ground, as you had seen happen around her desk at least once a week.

“Sorry, but I hardly even touched…” He was opening his mouth now, and as he began to protest what he thought was an unfair scolding you saw her lift up a rolled piece of paper and bonk him squarely on the top of his head with it.

You knew it was time to intervene and you cleared your throat noisily to make your presence known.

Carla’s hand with the rolled up paper dropped in an instant and her eyes widened as she looked at you in surprise.

“M…Manager, He…”

Baekhyun’s face whipped to look to you and you noted the apprehension in his eyes and the way he pulled his lips into the smallest pouty frown.

“Carla, why don't you and Emily work together on this? I know you’ve been working very hard all alone this week. Emily, let’s push back your workload to next week, hmm?” You pivoted to address the rest of your team as to not call attention to Carla alone.

“Everyone, let’s not stack everything on the edge of our desks. Let’s try and keep a clean workspace for everyone so accidents like this don't happen so often.”

You did your best to keep any bit of reproach out of your voice and it must have worked just enough to satisfy the easily excited girl because she closed up her mouth and flattened out her angry eyebrows with a small shrug.

You weren't above cleaning up a little mess here and there. As soon as you were done talking you dropped down to your knees and started gathering the papers up into a stack, the moment you moved, the rest of the team all dropped to their knees to do the same. Baekhyun was the first at your side, reaching for papers and pulling them out of your hands as you made neat stacks and he placed them carefully on the opposite side of Carla’s desk next to the partition, safe from literally anyone who might want to walk through this office.

“Baekhyun, I have a meeting upstairs, why don't you tag along so you can see what that’s like?”

“Yes ma’am,” he whispered beside you with a smile building on his face again and he moved quickly, keeping directly behind your steps as you moved down the hallway to the elevators.

“Noona, I’m so sorry about that earlier — I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I don't even know how it happened. All of a sudden she was just yelling at me. ”

“Manager, Baekhyun,” you corrected quickly as you stepped into the elevator first and he followed behind with a sheepish smile creeping up on his face. “And you didn't cause any trouble. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“You were so cool though. You felt like a hostage negotiator, freeing me from my kidnapper. What did you think of my resume? Am I a man that meets your high standards?” His questions came in rapid succession one after another and you held your composure well at the mention of that damned resume of his.

That resume and those muscles.

“You’re smart and you seem capable enough,” and young and firm and handsome as all hell, “I’m sure you’ll do fine while you are here.”

You gripped your calendar in your fist and tapped it lightly against his belly. He grunted once and grabbed it with his free hands. “Pay attention to that. You’ll need to follow my schedule.”

He smiled and shone brightly in response with an energetic head nod and he spent most of the upstairs meeting leafing through your calendar, making small marks on certain dates and pulling out his cell phone to no doubt copy certain entries into his own phone calendar.

Baekhyun’s first day was eventful but he was very promising. The next days and weeks to come were interesting in a way you hesitated to define.

He proved himself valuable to you instantly. He was indeed smart and capable and had a sense about him that you hadn’t seen before in a coworker. Having him at your side not only made your own job infinitely easier, but you noticed your mood had lightened when he was around.

He was cheerful and funny and although you tried your absolute best not to encourage his jokes or god forbid, laugh at them, the first time you slipped and let a quick chuckle out over something stupid he’d said he looked at you with wide eyes and the proudest grin on his face. You had to instantly roll your eyes for damage control.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever made you laugh. Noona, admit it, you like me just a little bit.”

You’d given up on trying to break him of that nickname after the first week of him just ignoring your attempts. The first time you’d answered to it, you knew it was over. You’d screwed up.

And you just did it again with the laugh. He was holding something very important just out of your reach as he sometimes did when his mood grew playful and you had been doing your best not to kick him in the shins so he would drop the stupid thing that you just needed your final signature of approval so you could move on to the next thing that needed your immediate attention.

“I never said I didn’t like you, Baekhyun, this is work. We are working right now. If I miss this deadline that’s it for me and for you and for the entire department out there.”

“So when the project wraps you’ll have a drink with me and then you’ll laugh at all of my jokes? You promise?” He dropped the papers just enough for you to be able to touch the corner of them and you gripped them tightly, pulling them hard into your hands with a force that instantly made him let go. He knew the penalties of destroying something at the last minute and no amount of playfulness would make him risk having to run around re-gathering important person’s signatures with just one hour until shooting began.

It was what you needed and you signed quickly with a pen, passing them back into his arms with an urgency on your voice.

“Fine. Go. Now.” He was out the door without a second word. Of course he was playing about drinks with you. Of course he was playing with you about liking him just a little bit. This was just what he did and he didn't mean any of it at all. This guy was so far out of your league he had his own fan club.

He was very highly sought after by all of the young ladies in this office alone, and you had heard rumors of his popularity in the rest of the building.

Why wouldn't he be joking with you? It made no sense for you to take any of it seriously and you knew it deep down inside of you.

You made for a quick fluff in the mirror on your wall and a touch up of your makeup along with slipping on a classy professional jacket and the heels you kept in your office for situations that required you to look just a little more presentable than usual. You had another meeting to attend for an upcoming project. Something new and different that required you to meet with a whole new team of very important people to sell yourself and your team and their highly sought after skill set. You pressed the elevator button and caught a glimpse of your reflection in the shining silver elevator doors and just behind you saw the familiar bounce of his blonde hair as he rushed to your side to join you at this meeting. He was huffing and puffing from clearly running through the office to get back to you. You noticed the flush in his cheeks and what looked like dust on his jacket. His hair was just a little messy too. You always did your best not to look too closely at Baekhyun. The few times you did allow it your mind would wander into forbidden places and you noticed that it never took very long for him to catch you watching him.

He didn’t need to attend this one. It was more of a schmoozing event than any sort of technical planning meeting but the sight of his bright smile brought you a strange comfort so you didn’t send him away. Inside the elevator you noticed he was watching your face rather closely and when you turned to him in question he lifted a finger up to his lips and pointed.

“Your lipstick has a little smudge.”

Great. Just what you needed. You tried to look your best and just ended up a mess again. You reached up and rubbed lightly below your bottom lip and he shook his head and took a step closer to you and lifted his own hand to your face.

You froze and held your breath and you stared into his face in shock as the tip of his finger ran a path down the edge of your upper lip. He cocked his head to the side and his eyes slipped into your own for a split second and you were sure that you noticed his cheeks darken a shade. Had your own cheeks given you away so easily as well?

Baekhyun cleared his throat but he wasn’t done and he was no longer looking into your eyes as he did this. He made another, firmer pass of his index finger over the edge of your upper lip and you instinctively pulled your lips inward and squeezed them together, pretending as if you needed to spread your lipstick more instead of just getting away from his fingertips that touched you in this quiet and private place.

As you did it, he moved again. His hand lifted to run his fingertips along your temple, where you must have had an errant strand of hair that he slowly and carefully tucked behind your ear. You kept your breathing calm and steady and you kept your face impassive, but the racket inside of your own chest as your heart beat took on a life of its own was distracting and terribly concerning. You were a mess deep down inside. You were just so good at hiding it from him.

“There,” he whispered. “Beautiful,” he said even quieter, almost entirely under his breath just as the sound of elevator dinging made you jump with the sudden intrusion.

You were the first one out. You didn’t hear his footsteps behind you as you usually did and when you risked a quick glimpse behind you, you noticed he hadn’t yet left the elevator and his focus seemed distracted and lost.

“Baek,” you called and his eyes snapped back to life before the elevator doors closed on him. He shook his head lightly and took three big steps to take his place at your side. His smile was nowhere to be found and his eyes didn't quite meet yours and something about him made the air in this blasted hallway feel awkward and claggy and downright difficult to breathe in.

“Oh, I feel—,” you let out a breath through your pursed lips and whispered out loud to yourself as you placed a hand over your chest to calm your beating heart, “—-nervous,” you admitted in defeat, pausing outside of the heavy wooden doors.

“Because of the meeting?” A quiet question eked out in a familiar voice behind you and you refused to meet his eyes.

“Of course, why else?” You answered flatly and quickly but his reply did not come as quick. What came instead was a sharp inhale of breath pulled into the lungs of the man who stood behind you at this door.

“Right,” he said softly with a small exhale through his nose. “Why else.” He agreed out loud. You must have imagined just a hint of disappointment in that exhale. Of course you’d imagined it. It probably originated inside of your own head, really. Everyone knew you had no business feeling any sort of way about your assistant Byun Baekhyun. Whether it be disappointment; or heart flutterings; or attraction; or desire; all of it was off limits.

“Baekhyun, this is a very important meeting.” You inhaled slowly and deeply and stole a glance to your left where Baekhyun stood and you noticed he had what looked like an entire leaf stuck to the top of his head.

What?

The more you looked at him the messier he actually seemed and you knew that behind that door would be a multitude of very important, very rich people who held your future in their hands. People who very likely did not have dirt on their coats and leaves in their hair.

This would not do. There was an empty hallway near the stairwell at the end of the corridor. You’d often used that quiet space to regroup before these kinds of meetings. You knew there was a bench and a clock on the wall that did not tick as it’s big hands spun around its face. You reached for his arm and pulled him

“Why are you so messy? What happened to you?” You pulled him fast and he complied with rushed steps to the sanctuary of that quiet space and when you pushed at his shoulders, sending him down to sit in front of you on the bench, he did so with a soft grunt of surprise and zero resistance. Baekhyun never ever resisted anything from you. You’d overheard him downright arguing with some of the other staff members before but he took being your assistant quite seriously and treated even small requests from you as if they had been laws set in stone to follow.

He was just a little bit ridiculous but mostly he was just the best.

“Before, when I was getting signatures, the paper flew away in the wind and I had to chase it down. There was a bush…” You brushed at his coat with your fingertips, patting harder to get some of the dirt to fall off and you had to step closer to him to get at the leaves in his hair. There were two and they were small and dried and they crumbled into a million bits when you grabbed them, making you have to pull apart the strands of his blonde hair carefully to remove every last bit of them.

“…it flew under the bush in the courtyard and I had t-to…”

You knew you were leaning into him and he seemed to abruptly stop his explanations when you took another step placing your feet in the spaces around where his feet parted, you felt the roundness of his kneecap brush against the inside of your inner knee and he had gone completely still and his words quit entirely. The part of your brain where you kept your most incriminating secrets about him sounded alarms and warning bells. You ignored the cacophony in favor of this necessary task at hand.

It took some doing but you’d gotten all of the mess out of his hair. There was a small pile of broken and dried leaves sitting in the palm of your hand and you noticed some more dirt on the breast of his dark blue coat. It was a dark enough colored coat that the dirt would definitely show so you reached down with your empty hand, laying your palm over the spot, you tried to brush the dirt away. It didn’t budge as easily as you wished it would and a second pass with your hand, with more pressure seemed to work better.

It was almost done. He was nearly perfect again but when your hand returned for one more pass your mind’s alarms rang as you caught on to the firmness and the warmth you felt below his coat. the feeling of him inside of these clothes.

Your stupid intrusive thoughts that you did your best to keep at bay surged up again.

Baekhyun was silent and motionless. Baekhyun had done nothing to encourage this. Everything he had ever told you that might have sounded flirtatious was said in jest. He was joking. He was always joking with you, that was just his way. But he sure did joke a lot with you. You often found yourself confused and frustrated by him.

The dust was gone. He could go now. You could let him go. He was ready to face them.

“There,” you said in a soft whisper, beautiful you thought in secret. Your whisper felt an appropriate tone of voice for such a quiet and secluded hideaway such as this and you mustered up the nerve to remove your hand from his chest so you could throw this trash away and attend your damn meeting.

You rocked back on your feet, shifting your balance away from where he sat on this bench, introducing some distance between the two of you. Then you moved your hand away from his chest for a fraction of a second you no longer felt the warmth and the firmness of his body below your palm and you began to pivot on your heels, you began to turn away from him and extract yourself entirely from this fantastical and impossible situation you had been entertaining inside of your own silly imagination. Only when you shifted so did he and rather than the warmth of his chest under the palm of your hand you felt the slow moving heat of his hand covering over the back of your own hand.

The sensation caught you off guard and you froze mid step, looking down to see it happening. You felt the smoothness of his fingertips tracing an achingly dizzying path up your wrist and higher until your entire hand had been covered completely by his.

You took another step away from him. This was strange. This was some sort of trick of your imagination again.

Your eyes sought out his eyes for answers only the look you saw in his expression did not give you any insight at all. He was watching you with a sort of detachment from this, from you; similar to the same look you’d seen from him in the elevator earlier. Similar to the look you’d seen from him many times over the course of the last few months of working closely with him.

You needed more answers than his face could give and when you took another step the grip he had on your hand tensed and he held on tighter and suddenly he was in motion as his thigh muscles tensed up and he stood on own two feet.

Your mind was consumed by confusion and uncertainty when his movements did not stop.

Baekhyun took a step into you, undoing the distance you had carefully and desperately put between your body and his body and out of the corner of your eye you caught movement in his other hand.

The fragments of seconds of time were insufficient to process any of this. If he was playing some sort of a trick, he was taking it too far for sure. Your heart was entirely too weak to take this kind of behavior from him.

Baekhyun’s hand lifted — he sought to touch the side of your face and at the same time, the distance between the two of you shrunk in an instant as he moved in. You watched on in surprise and in shock until every detail of Byun Baekhyun’s face blurred and you felt the warm wetness of his lips that landed over your own surprised ones.

He kissed you.

He had kissed you.

In this space, this quiet space that was once only yours, he had kissed you and you were frozen in this moment without even the ability to comprehend how this man could have done this, or why he had done this, or what, if anything at all was the punchline of this particular joke of his.

He had kissed you and he was still kissing you and your frozen reaction must have been what brought him to his senses.

He opened his eyes and his lips retreated just enough for him to pull back and look into your face. You made a sound. It was the smallest questioning hum from the back of your throat and you shook your head a microscopic amount to try and clear the static happening inside your brain.

“Uhh,” you finally managed and he had dropped his hold on your hand and closed his eyes up tight.

He looked to his left and then he looked to his right. Both spaces were empty. You were standing in front of him but he did not look at you.

His eyes closed up again and you saw him pull his lips in between his teeth and he bit down and exhaled a huff through his nose before pulling his expression into the smallest wince.

“Shit,” he whispered. He looked behind himself. He looked up at the ceiling and he looked down at the floor. He wasn’t actually looking anywhere but you knew for absolute certainty that he was not looking at you.

You swallowed away the dryness inside of your mouth at the sound of that tiny curse word and the unimaginably tiny sting you felt inside of your chest when you heard him say it.

This was okay.

This was fine.

It was just a mistake; a joke taken too far. He was silly by nature and you did not need to read anything into this little blunder of his. You definitely didn't want to make him feel bad about having made this mistake. Maybe this suffocating ache inside of your chest was the punchline. You could feel its tendrils creeping up inside.

Ha! Ha! Stupid old lady.

No. No, This was okay.

This was fine.

The clock on the wall called to you and you watched the minute hand join up with the hour hand as the two became one and it was 12 noon. It was time for both of you to be inside that meeting room instead of out here playing jokes on each other and instantly regretting it.

His gaze followed yours, touching upon that clock and understanding the task at hand and you stood straighter, fixed your skirt and jacket, made sure your button up blouse was still closed up tight, and you made a few steps toward the trash can to throw away the dried leaves from his hair and from what felt like ages ago and you heard his footsteps follow you down the hallway to enter the meeting room.

You did not hold the door open behind you and you did not listen carefully for the comforting sound of his footsteps behind you. When you opened the door to walk inside you did not do so with any regard for anyone else in the world — especially not for someone like Byun Baekhyun, who’s father’s name adorned the outside of this enormous building and even your paychecks. Especially not for Byun Baekhyun who had exactly three weeks left of his detail in the International Subbing Department before he moved on to QC or AD or wherever the hell he wanted to go when he left you.

[To Be Continued]

Links: Can I Stay? Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

[jaemmphilia]

★ episode one: casual ★ || seo c.b

★ summary: changbin is called into his agency by his manager to come and look at a potential script for a mini-series that's a spinoff of the popular movie: don't say goodbye. he accepts the script immediately, not realizing who his co-star is until changbin sees him sitting at the table.

★ pairing: actor!changbin x actor!male!reader

★ warnings and rating: colorful language, reader and changbin have some history, enemies/idiots to lovers, (16+ rating), arguments, changbin calls the reader some mean names

★ word count: 1.8K (1810)

★ binnie's thoughts: welcome to the beginning of the paint me naked series! this is going to be a fun one, and i think i've postponed it long enough...

★ requested?: yes, thank you @goovultss and i'm so sorry it took so long for the first part to come out...

★ disclaimer: this fic in absolutely NO WAY represents changbin as a person. this fic is simply for entertainment purposes, so enjoy!

© triplejracha, 2023. please do not copy to any other platform.

★ series masterlist ★

Changbin is over the moon these days.

He’s at the top of his acting career, just like he’s always wanted. He’s constantly being invited to award shows and various celebrity parties (he was invited to world-famous actor Hwang Hyunjin’s recent birthday party, so he knows he’s made it to the big leagues.). He’s a humble guy, no doubt, but sometimes he can’t help but wonder how awesome he is as an actor. 

His career started when he was around three years old, and he was in a commercial advertising some sort of brand-new juice. He thought it was gross, but his mother told him she wasn’t going to listen to him whine about the fluid being nasty. He sucked it up and completed the commercial without any further fuss. Will he always remember that oddly specific taste so long as he still lives? Of course, but that’s not the point. Ever since then, he became popular, being cast in small roles, such as the child for a couple, or the younger version of the main character, the list goes on and on.

His roles only increased as he got older and his baby face morphed into one of a more mature type. His chubby cheeks remained, but he finally grew into his nose and eyes. He was then cast into more concrete roles with mature characters and themes. He was excited when he had to smoke a fake cigarette when he played Yoojeon, the secondary love interest and the most intimidating boy in school. 

But his success didn’t stop at acting, he was also chosen to walk down fashion runways, as well as appearing on the front of dozens of magazines boasting about his fast jump to fame. 

As Changbin is relaxing in his penthouse, flicking through endless channels as he shovels some chips into his mouth, his phone rings loudly. He sets the remote down and picks up his phone, the familiar contact name of his manager, coming to view. He immediately picks up, placing the phone up to his ear.

“Hey, kid. Got any plans today?” His manager asks, and Changbin tells the older man no. He had planned to hit the gym for a few hours, but that can wait until tomorrow. 

“Great. Come to my office, there’s a script here that’s calling your name.” The man says and Changbin wastes no time in jumping up and slipping on his shoes. His manager knows that Changbin would never turn down a script, he’s simply just high off on success. 

“I’m on my way right now! Did you send a car for me?” Changbin asks as he barrels down the stairs of his penthouse, nearly falling to his death. 

“Yes, it’s waiting at the front of your complex building. And please don’t rush down the stairs. You remember what happened last time.” The older man scolds. 

Oh, Changbin remembers it well. He was excited about a script reading and he misstepped on the stairs and fell straight down to the bottom, breaking his arm in the process. The broken arm led to him missing the opportunity to play the lead role in the movie he was going to be reading the script for. They gave the role to his worst enemy: Moon [Name]. 

Moon [Name] is the bane of Changbin’s existence. He’s snobby, egotistic, and contemptuous. Changbin hates his guts with his pretty face and great acting skills. Ugh, it drives Changbin up a wall just thinking about that asshole. Moon [Name] loves to make things into a competition, he’s always been like that. It’s always about who can get the better roles or who can accumulate the highest amount of sponsors for just a single role. 

If Changbin could drive, he would’ve hit [Name] with this car a long time ago. 

Once Changbin enters the building, he gets the rundown from his manager. His manager tells him the script is a spinoff of the hit movie “Don’t Say Goodbye” starring Han Jisung and Lee Minho. Changbin gets even more excited because he loves that movie. 

He remembers sitting in his penthouse sobbing like a baby because Jinhae (Jisung’s character) had died of some terminal illness without his summer lover, Yeohan (Minho’s character) knowing. He cried for days and days after watching the movie for the first time. He then proceeded to watch it six more times. He’s a hopeless romantic, cut him some slack. 

Knowing that the script is for the spinoff, he wonders if the characters will be the friend of Jinhae and the brother of Yeohan; Taesung and Yeohei. They were only mentioned a few times in the movie, and it was hinted that they were crushing on each other. Changbin also wonders which role he’ll get, will he be Taesung or Yeohei? If he were to choose, he would pick Taesung. Taesung sounds way cooler than Yeohei. 

Changbin arrives at the producer’s building, and he goes to the large meeting room his manager told him to go to. Changbin greets his manager outside the room, and he can’t help but notice the nervous look on the older man’s face. The way his eyes shift and refuse to look at Changbin.

“Hyung, what’s got you all worked up? Is your wife not speaking to you again?” Changbin jokes, but his manager only lets out a huff of a laugh in response. “Hold on, what’s going on? You always laugh at my jokes!” 

“I think it’s best if you walk into the room and see for yourself.” The older man says, his gaze still not meeting Changbin’s. Changbin is confused, his strong eyebrows furrowed as he pushes open the door to the meeting room.

When he enters, his gaze falls on a particular body in the room. The person looks up from his phone, his soft [EC] eyes staring straight into Changbin’s eyes. When the two of them realize who each other are, they both speak in unison:

“Oh, fuck no.”

It’s a few days after that unnecessarily aggressive encounter with [Name], and Changbin is not taking the role of Taesung. As much as he would love that role, he refuses to work with [Name]. Changbin’s manager is desperately trying to convince and bribe the young star to take the role, but Changbin isn’t listening. 

“Come on Changbin! This role could be huge for you! You’re already familiar with the storyline, and the director says your appearance fits Taesung’s character perfectly!” His manager cries out, the man slowly getting fed up with his bratty client. “It doesn’t get any more perfect than that!’

“I’ll take that role when [Name] is not my co-star,” Changbin says gruffly, letting out a puff of air as he lifts the heavy metal bar above his head, his bicep muscles tensing with strain. “You know how I feel about that fucking brat.” 

His manager huffs and rubs his temples, “Do you maybe, I don’t know, think you’re being dramatic?”

Changbin sets the metal bar on the hooks above him and he sits up, wiping the sweat off his forehead. He fixes his glare onto his manager, his plump bottom lip jutted out, which makes him less intimidating than he thinks. “Me? I’m not being dramatic! I just really hate that pretentious asshole!”

“Changbin, just think about the aftermath if you take this role. You would blow up, even more than you already have. You’re already at the top, but you can go higher.” His manager says to him, hoping those words of encouragement will give him the push he needs.

Changbin thinks about those words, the tension between his brows relaxing just a bit. If he takes the role, his fame would skyrocket, taking him higher than he already is right now. Maybe he should take the role, what if [Name] isn’t the same dickhead he remembers the male being? With a very dramatic sigh, he agrees to take the role. His manager immediately takes out his phone to call the director, leaving Changbin to resume his once-interrupted workout. 

It’s the first day of filming, and Changbin is pretty much vibrating with excitement. He spent the past three days memorizing his lines. He could barely sit still long enough for his makeup artist to complete his makeup. He was itching to film and he had not seen [Name] yet, so today was already faring to be a good one. 

That is, until [Name] showed up on set, his hair and makeup finished, his once [HC] hair now hidden under a black wig with purple streaks, the hairstyle in a shaggy cut. [Name] has a lip piercing, a silver ring straight down the middle of his plump, soft red colored lips. He’s wearing a fuzzy wine-red sweater with white cat paws littered around it hanging on his slimmer frame. Changbin tries not to stare for too long, but he has to admit that the piercing suits [Name] pretty well. A little too well, he might admit.

He turns his gaze away before he gets caught staring, and his makeup artist informs him that he’s done. She hands him a mirror, and Changbin barely recognizes himself. He has on green contacts, making his chocolatey brown eyes morph into a soft hazel color. They decided to keep his natural deep brown curls, feeling that they tied Taesung’s character together perfectly. His makeup artist placed a few small fake tattoos on his face, and he really likes how he looks. He feels like a badass motorcycle driver or the rebellious son of a mafia boss. 

“You look pretty good, Taesung.” A playful voice snaps him out of his little fantasy world. His face falls when he realizes [Name] is the one talking to him. Changbin hopes he didn’t get caught staring at his sworn enemy. [Name] is standing right in front of him, a cheeky smile on his face. Changbin wishes he could just slap that look off [Name]’s face. 

Changbin and [Name] barely managed to finish one scene together before they began arguing. The two are all up in each other’s faces, spitting hateful insults at each other. Their managers exchange a look, the two of them were already used to their client’s childish behavior by now. [Name]’s manager asks for a short break, even though filming had just started no less than five minutes ago. The director nods, not wanting to get in between the quarrel. Changbin’s manager pulls him away from [Name], but that doesn’t stop Changbin from calling the other male a stuck-up bitch.

“Changbin, what the hell were you two even arguing about?” His manager asks, handing him a water bottle, hoping it would calm the male down. 

Changbin angrily drinks the water before answering, “[Name] sai–” A pause. “You know what, I don’t even remember.”

Changbin’s manager groans. This was going to be a long filming process.

[sencubussubs]

NOT SETTLING in manifestation <3

hi lovelies!

Let’s talk about not settling with your manifestations!

For this post i am gonna use an anecdote from my life:

last year i was messing around with manifestation and subliminals. I was listening to the “Apple” subliminal by I want it I got it. I looked up the exact model i wanted: the iphone 13 green and affirmed a couple times that it was mine and how much i loved my iphone 13 and its colour. Not a week later my mom comes in and asks me if i want an iphone 13

to reference, before my parents were never the type to just buy me a new phone, especially since i had an iphone 11 which is honestly still a solid phone! But i did not let that overcomplicate the process.

I was so excited i said yes and i asked for the green to which my mom said she can’t get me a green one.

i thought:

Bummer right? but colour isn’t that important - i am getting a brand new iphone 13!

i allowed the item to be ‘so amazing’ that it was acceptable for me not to get my exact desire.

A couple days later i had my new phone, i was setting it up and i decided that i wanted to really test my manifestation skills and take it further so i affirmed a couple times to myself that i was getting the green iphone 13. Again i did not think too deeply about it, i did not obsess over it. And low and behold the next day my mom came in and asked me if i really wanted a green one, i said yes and she got me the green one.

I did not allow previous beliefs to block my manifestation - my parents not buying me new apple devices and being rather frugal in general.

And i did not settle for a half-baked manifestation.

This is a reminder that you are the creator, you NEVER have to settle.

if the 3D starts reflecting back to you part of your story, do not give into it so fast and decide the other details ‘don’t matter’ because you are so caught up in what you have managed to manifested.

And on the other hand if you don’t like what you’re seeing yet, don’t react in the 3D, don’t complain or think to yourself about hot and cold behaviour from someone or not having a specific item yet - just live your life, remember it is already yours, you do not have to do anything in the 3D to bring it in.

This little manifestation for me is still one that blows my mind, at the time the iphone 13 was still quite new, so i could not wrap my head around me being able to own one, but i simply did not think about it too hard. I did not allow the phone to be something i desperately needed, i did not spend all my time thinking about it. i just lived my life happily, affirming from time to time when i remembered that it was coming to me.

<3

I hope this inspired my little stars NEVER to settle.

This is your world, sieze it.

<3

[gabessquishytum]

Dream really do be having that previously neglected shelter dog rizz and y’all be putting him in Situations 😭. Please all I can see him doing is laying pathetically on the floor letting out occasional heaving sighs of sorrow as Hob just carefully steps over him (because Dream somehow always manages to be on the floor directly under where he’s about to step and Hob’s one more tumble away from just investing in a ceiling made of monkey bars).

So now all I can imagine is Dream post-divorce with Calliope (because let’s be real that man came out of the celestial womb divorced and mopey) who finds solace in Hob’s flat and Hob’s occasional attempts to heave him up both physically and emotionally. When Hob’s not frantically almost stepping on his dear friend and braining himself as a result, he’s just sort of resigned himself to the reality that Dream just kind of…lives on his floor now when he’s not in The Dreaming, so he’s like fuck it I’m just gonna keep going about my days. So Dream gets to watch Hob’s daily routines from a brand new perspective, maybe even catch a glimpse of Hob changing in his bedroom when he forgets (read: he did not forget) to close his door, and how he sings awfully in the shower, and loves burnt toast that’s practically char and makes Dream watch terrible human shows and movies all of a sudden Dream’s like oh no I’m in love with him

I just love the idea of Dream moping around looking like a lost dog caught out in the rain for so long that Hob just accepts him as a permanent fixture in the flat. He makes some room in the closet for all of Dream’s nonexistent clothes (he buys him some anyway), he gives him a cupboard in the kitchen and a drawer or two, he gets drunk and tells Dream about all his own failed relationships over the centuries. And when Hob finally snaps and tells Dream that he’s not unloveable and proves that to him by giving him a big sloppy drunk kiss, well Dream’s always wanted more than he’s got, and he can’t stop himself when he doesn’t let Hob pull away, hands gripping the thick meat of his upper thighs, teeth against teeth and gasping into each other’s mouths and suddenly Dream can’t even remember why he was so sad to begin with

I need you to know the phrase "shelter dog rizz" is sending me absolutely wheezing. Iconic.

And honestly? Yeah.

It takes a little while for Hob to get used to the man shaped creature who apparently now lives on the floor, but he figures that Dream has been Going Through Something for the last several thousand years so he probably deserves the opportunity to express his depressive episode in a relatively harmless way. He's still willing to talk to Hob, which is nice. Hob tells him about work and the pub and how he's in a hyperfixation over The Sims at the moment, which happens to him for a few week every year without fail. Dream sometimes talks about the goings on of his realm, and Matthew's shenanigans. A lot of the time he talks about how useless he feels and how, despite the fact that he ought not to feel fatigue at all, he's so tired.

Dream is surprisingly welcome company for Hob (who is lonely, though he would never ever dare to say that word to Dream again). Despite acting like a very strange rug, Dream is present and calming and when Hob lies down beside him on the floor, he feels absolutely peaceful.

Kissing Dream is absolutely the best drunken decision Hob has ever made (and there have been many). Dream melts against his body and the flicker of a smile starts in his eyes before finally quirking at the edge of his mouth.

Suddenly he's quite willing to spend less time on the floor... and more time in bed.

[kwyw]

I don’t get the concept here where this fandom thinks Taylor is not in charge of her own PR or why she is getting in her jet to fly to KC . She is rich beyond anyone’s dreams and ppl want to believe she is doing this for money?

Anon.

I don’t get the concept here where that fandom thinks Taylor is solely in charge of her own PR or why it’s news she is getting in her jet to fly to KC. She is rich beyond anyone’s dreams and people have to believe she’s a specific way that appeases them so she can make money and be successful.

If Taylor were solely in charge of her own PR, then why exactly does Tree Paine have a job? Public relations is literally the job of her publicist. Taylor is her boss, yes, but Tree is responsible for how she appeals and relates to the public.

We typically don’t exactly know why she is in her jet flying anywhere unless it’s for a tour stop because that’s already public knowledge. However, we can assume if it’s Florida, it’s to see her father. If it’s Nashville, it’s to see her mother or maybe even Abigail. If it’s New York or LA, she’s going to her own house or working. However, every time we’ve seen an article that she flew to KC, these websites by default attach it to Travis.

And we literally see an article every single time she goes to Kansas City. Every day there’s a new detail of this “relationship” we didn’t ask for.

That’s your first example of PR here.

I need you and others to grasp the concept that PR isn’t always based around money. PR is mainly for image reasons. If a celebrity has a scandal come about, you almost always see how People or ET for example will say they reached out to that celebrity’s team and they either didn’t respond or did not offer comment.

Travis JUST signed to CAA in May for off the field representation. He is building an expanded brand for when he retires from football. He’s 34. That’s “old” for his position in the NFL. So ask yourself—why does a 2 time Super Bowl champion (his last championship being won this past February)

Did you even watch Miss Americana? Where her Dad and another person on her team tried to gaslight her by using a potential decrease in ticket sales to stop her from talking about politics? Guess why—because PR has taught you that Taylor Swift™️ does not talk about politics.

PR taught you for 6 years that she was “extremely private” with Joe, but you always got an article before one of their projects released, right? Either the day of, or the day before Midnights was released, what picture just so happened to be released?

Taylor and Joe in NYC furniture shopping.

Remember how it was dead silent before CWF was released but a month or so before, engagement rumors popped up? Because PR had to make him seem interesting enough during his promo for the show.

Before the Reputation Tour arrived on Netflix—PR gave you pictures of Taylor and Joe with his friends in NYC on NYE.

PR is what got you the pictures of them on the balcony in Nashville before the rep tour started when paparazzi don’t camp in Nashville. Which you know because most country artists live in Nashville and you never see them unless they’re papped in LA or NYC.

PR relationships have always existed, but for some reason, y’all seem to think it’s beneath Taylor to engage in them.

So yes, she is “rich beyond anyone’s dreams”, but at what cost? Because PR is why y’all can’t fathom that she could possibly be queer—because to most people, she doesn’t “look” queer.

Not to mention, given all PR has taught us about her for the past 17 years, you have to question why this Travis situation is so odd and sloppy. No one really who Travis is outside of football—but now they know him as “Taylor Swift’s boyfriend” and now everyone wants to capitalize, right?

This 👆👆👆

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

Where I Belong Series

Summary: Let’s get small glimpses of Eddie, Salem and Fox’s daily lives. No order required, read it as you wish.

Pairings: Eddie Kingston x Fox (reader), Salem (daughter)

When Fox starts doubting her self worth, Salem comes to the rescue and tell Eddie what is really going on in the Kingston’s household.

Tag: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @aerynscrichton , @daddyhausen , @melissahausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @baysexuality , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @moxkindagirl , @eddie-kingstons-wifey

Salem knew you would never tell what was going on to Eddie, that’s why she decided to take matters into her own hands.

She peeked out her bedroom window to make sure you weren’t home yet before taking the steps down to her father’s “man cave” in the basement.

Eddie was lifting some weights when Salem sat on his armchair and turned off the stereo.

“Girl, I was listening to that!”

“We need to talk” Salem crossed her arms in front of her chest as she stared at her father’s sweaty face.

“And what is so important to say that you dragged your 17-year-old ass down here to turn off my music when I finally gathered the courage to work out this week?”

“Your wife”

“What about your mom?”

“Did you know she set up an appointment with a plastic surgeon for next Thursday?”

Eddie almost choked on his water after hearing Salem’s question. “No, I did not. Why would your mom hide that from me? That makes no sense- Hang on, how the fuck do you know that?”

“I heard her on the phone yesterday morning”

“Girl, what did I tell you about eavesdropping?”

“Don’t get caught” Salem stated nonchalantly “Which I didn’t”

“Yeah, that too. But don’t do it in the family, damn it!”

“So you don’t want to know why mom called the plastic surgeon then?” Your daughter threw the bait and watched the curiosity slowly creeping into Eddie’s features.

He sighed heavily and dropped the dumbbell on the floor before sitting down on the weight bench. “Shoot”

“She wants to put on silicone. She thinks she looks unattractive and a new set of boobs will somehow make her feel better about herself again. It’s a bunch of bullshit if you ask me, it’s all that old hag’s fault! We ran into Mrs. Davis at the grocery store last week and the woman kept whining about how her husband had found himself a young mistress with a brand new set of tiddies. She then told Mom she couldn’t understand how Mom could trust you since you’re on the road all the time, and I quote, ‘with all of those young women with perky breasts, generous backsides, and thin waists. Honestly, darling, we both know your husband is quite a man - even with his rough manners - it’s the thug appeal as some people call it. Frankly, it baffles me how you’re still together, and faithfully I hope, after all these years!’. Needless to say that the old bitch’s words got into mom’s head”

“That dusty old slut had the nerve to say that to your mom? What the fuck is her problem?! My wife is gorgeous! She needs no plastic surgery! I swear to god If I see that woman…I’ll smack her on sight!”

“No wonder Mr. Davis got a new mistress, that woman is insufferable! She’s determined to make everyone’s life a living hell, Dad. She convinced Mrs. Ashton to file for divorce!”

Eddie’s eyes widened in shock. Pamela Ashton was the mother of Salem’s childhood best friend: Lily. You and Eddie have known Pamela and Benny for over 20 years now, their marriage was stable and happy, with 2 kids and a successful business. Eddie can’t remember ever hearing them fighting; both Pam and Benny had talked with Eddie many times in the past in regards to his marriage. They always counseled him and put some sense back into his head after his nerves got the best out of him and he said something stupid to you. Benny was the one who helped Eddie set up the surprise second marriage proposal at Luigi’s restaurant, and Pam was responsible to convince you to go there and listen to him. Eddie knew how much they loved each other and therefore knew they would be the last couple on earth to file for divorce.

“Why did Pam file for divorce?”

“Because Mrs. Devil pulled the same stunt she did with Mom! Except she didn’t hold back because Mrs. Ashton was alone. She was using Mr. Ashton’s new secretary as her excuse. Lily tried to convince her mom to not listen to that old bitch but she had poisoned Mrs. Ashton’s mind already”

“But why did she believe it?! Benny loves her, he’s crazy for her! He wouldn’t have an affair, that’s bullshit!” Eddie threw the empty water bottle into the trash can as Salem sighed.

“You men don’t understand, do you? You guys get old and you get praised for it! People say you look more attractive, more appealing, more charming. Aging wears men so well, your wrinkles are a signature of attractiveness but it’s not the same for women! God forbid if we ever age! People expect us to look 23 even when we reach 54. We have to battle time, wrinkles, and aging, we’re not allowed to have a natural body or be happy with how it looks because guess what? Women are supposed to look fit as fuck 24/7, even after they gave birth. We’re supposed to meet stupid beauty standards because otherwise we’re taught that we’ll get dumped and replaced like a used rag if we don’t! There’ll always be someone prettier, younger, sexier, hotter that we have to constantly overcome to still be considered good enough of a woman. That’s why Mrs. Ashton filed for divorce because she couldn’t stand the thought of her husband of over 20 years replacing her with a younger woman. After all, Mrs. Ashton already wore her best years with her husband” Salem stood up from the armchair and walked closer to the stairs before looking back at her father “That’s why mom is looking for plastic surgery, dad. Because the idea of losing you is too much for her to bear. She’s scared that your love for her has died along with her youth. You don’t notice it, but she’s been on the edge for weeks now. Look, Dad, I know you don’t mean it, ok…but you take Mom for granted, you always have, and there comes a time when a person can’t take it anymore. Sometimes we just want to be valued by the person we love. Sometimes we just want to be seen for who we are and who we became over time”.

Salem watched as tears rolled down Eddie’s face, he sniffled once and nodded “Thank you for telling me, chickadee”

“No problem. Just don’t make me regret it, old man” She teased with a sad smile “I’m going to Lily’s for the night, gonna sleep there, ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure” Eddie stood up from the weight bench and laid a kiss on Salem’s hair “Be careful, and text me when you get there. I love you”

“I love you too, Dad”.

It was past 8 pm when you got home, the lights were off and you frowned at the quietness as you closed the front door.

“Sae? Eddie?” You called but didn’t get a response. Checking your phone to see if there were any missing calls, you found there was only one unread text from Salem:

Sae 👶: At Lily’s, gonna sleep here. Already told Dad and he gave the ok. See ya tomorrow. Love you xo.

You tossed your coat on the couch with a loud sigh “Looks like I’m alone again…As always”.

Of your daughter’s whereabouts you knew of, but your husband was nowhere to be found. Eddie didn’t pick up his phone nor answer your texts, he had nothing planned with either Mox or Monkey. Ruby also didn’t hear from him, and you knew it because you had called all of them on the way home, like a desperate wife trying to track down her cheating husband.

“I sound like a fucking fool. What a dumbass you are, Y/N. Really, how blind can you be?!” Murmuring to yourself you made your way up the stairs to your bedroom, only stopping by the hallway to retrieve a picture of you and Eddie from your dating era. You couldn’t help but smile at the picture.

Mox had taken it after your first double date, Eddie was sitting on the pull-out trunk of Moxley’s truck with you standing between his legs, he hugged you tightly from behind, chin resting on your shoulder with a big smile on his face. He had given you his denim jacket because you forgot your coat at his place. His hands rested on your hips, and you also had a huge smile on your face. Eddie had placed his white bandana on your head because he claimed you looked “extra cute" with it, but deep down you knew it was because this was his way of letting everyone know you were with him.

You both looked happy, incredibly happy, young, and free, with a fresh relationship and completely in love. It was then that you wondered when it had all changed. When did you become the distrustful wife and Eddie became the careless husband?

A single tear dropped on the picture frame’s glass, smudging the background of your love story. Your head lifted at the scent of cinnamon vanilla as you entered your bedroom.

“What’s going on?” You asked meekly, once your eyes spotted the several candles lighting up the bedroom. Eddie was dressed in one of his baggy dark jeans and a blue and white striped button-up shirt, holding a bouquet of red roses.

“Why are you crying, fox? What happened?” He quickly walked towards you. Eddie’s hand cupped your cheek and worry set upon his green eyes “You’re ok?”

“Yeah, I was just thinking…”

“Thinking about what, foxy?”

“I…I don’t know” You whispered back “What’s all this about?”

Eddie knew better than to push you to say something you weren't prepared to speak of yet, so he brushed the subject to the side before smiling softly “It’s been ages since we had some time for ourselves as a couple, so I thought why not enjoy it? Chickadee is gonna be at Lily’s until tomorrow, and I wanna enjoy the night with my beautiful wife. We deserve to have our time as a couple too, and not just as our daughter’s parents”.

You smiled and took the large bouquet in your hands “They’re beautiful, thank you”

“You’re beautiful! You’re still as gorgeous as the day we first met. And I’m even more madly in love with you now than I was when Mox took this picture” Eddie pulled the picture frame away from your grasp and placed it on top of the dresser.

“It’s always been you, fox. You were the woman I chose back then, you are the woman I choose today, and you will be the woman I’ll choose tomorrow. You’re my forever, the woman I fell in love with, the woman who taught me so much, the woman who gave me a child, a family, the only woman I’ll always want, always choose, always need, it’s you. No matter where we are or how old we are, it’ll always be you. Not even the hot nurses from the nursing home will be able to replace you, and even when they change my diapers I’ll tell them to not look too much because all of that belongs to you” Eddie joked making you chuckle against his lips “You’re so ridiculous”

He kissed you slowly, the type of kiss you hadn’t shared in months. Slow, passionate, needy, addicting.

“Salem told you about the doctor, didn’t she? I suspected she was listening to the call, she’s not as slick as she thinks” You asked once Eddie pulled back to caress your face.

“Yeah, she did. And no, that’s not the reason why I’m doing this. Chickadee told me a few things that made me realize how I was treating you, and that’s not what I want you to think, that I don’t appreciate you, love you, or don’t feel attracted to you because trust me, that’s not it! You’re a beautiful woman and you do turn me on, foxy!”

“You don't want me to have new boobs then?”

“Depends. If you want to put them on because you want them and it will make you happy then yes, I do want you to put them on. But if you’re doing it for me or because of what that old bitch said to you, then no, I don’t want you to put it on. You’re gorgeous, perfect, hot as fuck, and I love you like this, with the that body you have. But if you want to put on some new titties because it’ll make you happy and feel better about yourself, I fully support you. We’ll go to the doctor’s appointment together and see what he has to say”

“But you don’t mind if I don’t do it?”

“No, foxy. I don’t mind it at all! I love what you have, I’m more than happy with it. Completely satisfied” Eddie’s hands cupped your breasts through your shirt “I love the feeling of my natural babies over here” He squeezed your breasts “My fox is so perfect. Fuck, baby, I’m getting hard just from thinking about the things I want to do with you”

You smiled widely, placing the bouquet on the dresser by the picture frame before leaning forward and nibbling Eddie’s sensitive jawline “So what are you waiting for, Kingston?”

“Oh foxy, foxy” Eddie purred before pushing you down on the bed.

[croszukis]

nick/cole — for the prompt crochet presents

Nick was a good hockey husband, Cole really didn’t think he could ask for anyone better, if he had to be hockey married to someone.

And he did, the team made that very clear to him after his rookie season. They wanted to show how committed management was to their young core and how serious they were about the rebuild. And having their brand new, youngest-in-franchise-history captain also show up to start the season in a new work marriage with another one of the team’s stars would soothe some of the worries of even the most traditional hockey media in Montreal. 

Cole hadn’t expected to be hockey married this young, so he hadn’t thought about the possibility at all really. But having a work husband turned out to be kinda fun. 

It meant the boys teasing him when he finally begged off from whatever bar they were at together, telling him he had to go get home to his husband. And Cole played along, blushing back and saying his hot husband at home was better company than them, even though they didn’t live together. 

And girls took him more seriously, when they realized the ring on his right hand was for a work marriage. At their age, it made him look important and responsible. 

But now a few years into his hockey marriage there were still a couple of things Cole didn’t understand about it. Like where the boundary between a work marriage and outside of it was supposed to be and if you could kiss your work husband and still be within those boundaries. Or what to do if you’re pretty sure you want to turn your work marriage into a home one. 

*

Cole sat next to Nick on the plane, they always did every trip and Cole kind of assumed it was because of the husband thing though he’d never thought to ask. After they’d gotten settled and changed out of their suits Nick pulled out a mass of yarn out of a bag on his lap. That was new. 

Cole stared at his husband, ignoring whatever dumb movie he’d put on his own iPad in front of him, as he deftly looped the yarn around a stick and made the knitted thing attached to it grow larger. After a few minutes of watching him, Cole finally spoke up. 

“I didn’t know you could knit.” 

“It’s crochet.” 

Cole smirked, Nick still hadn’t taken his eyes off his project to look at him. “Oh, sorry.” 

“I can knit too though. Learned both of them in elementary school, but that was the last time I’d done either.” 

“So why pick it up again now?” 

The way Nick wrapped the yarn around one of his thick fingers kind of mesmerized him. 

“My mom suggested it might be good stress relief.” 

“Ah.” Cole knew Nick was having trouble sleeping lately. He’d looked up insomnia tips and almost ordered melatonin gummies for him before he remembered he should get it cleared with the staff and then forgot about them in his Amazon cart. Mrs. Suzuki’s suggestion was probably better anyway. “And how’s that working out?” 

“I still can’t sleep but I’ve got Christmas gifts for every relative done already and it’s October, so.” 

Cole finally paused his movie, fully giving up on pretending he was going to actually pay attention to it, and leaned closer to Nick over the armrest. “Does your husband count as one of those relatives?” 

He’d been doing that a lot more lately—daringly dropping the word hockey in front of ‘husband’ because he liked the thrill it gave him. Like he was getting away with something and he didn’t know how much longer he could. 

Nick finally paused what he was doing and glanced at Cole, his lips pressed together in that little half smile. “You want a handmade toque for Christmas?” 

Cole’s laugh was short and sharp, probably waking up Kaiden in front of him. “Yeah, why not?”

“What if it was ugly?” Nick was provoking him, trying to get Cole to admit something, he just wasn’t sure what it was. 

“Nick Suzuki, Mr. Perfectionist, giving something ugly? I doubt that.” He smiled watching Nick roll his eyes at that. “But I’d wear it even if it was ugly. If it was a gift.” 

Nick went back to working on his crochet project. Now that Nick mentioned toques he could see that it was kind of the vague shape of one. “Good to know.” 

*

When Cole opened his Christmas gift from Nick he expected the dark gray toque he pulled out of the tissue wrapping. But he hadn’t expected matching mittens and a scarf to go along with it. A complete set. Cole immediately pulled the hat on his head while he held the scarf and mittens in his hands, admiring them. 

“I didn’t know your insomnia was this bad,” he joked. Cole wasn’t sure how to be earnest about the gift and how much it meant to him. If he wasn’t joking about it, he might accidentally do something embarrassing, like propose to his hockey husband. 

“Oh it’s not. I got that under control weeks ago. I had extra time anyway since I finished everyone else’s gifts in October, remember?”

Cole laughed along, even though he still felt shell-shocked with his brand new handmade toque on his head. “Right.”  

“Do you like it?” Nick prompted and Cole honestly might say that he looked a little nervous. 

“I love it.” He was earnest this time, smiling at Nick as he wrapped the scarf around his neck even though it was practically toasty in his apartment. 

Cole wasn’t sure his own gift held up to Nick’s though. A fancy golf trip to one of the courses in he remembered Nick drooling over that time they’d went to go watch the Master’s. When Nick opened the envelope detailing the gift on some fancy paper from whoever Cole had booked it through, he made sure Nick knew a plus one was included for whoever he wanted to bring along. He wanted to ask Nick to bring him. 

Instead Cole slipped the mittens on his hands, feeling the softness of the yarn Nick had chosen against his palms. He held them up to Nick, “Hey you guessed my hand size right. They’re a perfect fit.”

[sitp-recs]

3 Tacky shorts to read this week

I ran against time to get this post out before midnight ET but am still a bit late 🥲 I know T won’t mind so here’s my belated gift to my sun and stars, my first and dearest partner in crime @tackytigerfic! T, I have no words to describe how much I appreciate our friendship. It’s been so special to experience this fandom with you in the last few years. I love that we immediately hit off and share one stupid brain cell when it comes to these idiots; it feels like we’ve known each other forever and 24 hours (especially living so far apart) is not enough to talk fic, headcanons, kinks, squicks and all other irl and existencial topics with you. Navigating such a big fandom can be really scary but even when nobody knew me I’d never feel lonely, invisible or like I had to pretend to be someone else, because I had you by my side. Thank you so so much for being my safe harbour, my sicko soulmate, my confidant, my role model and my biggest cheerleader!

As I thought of new ways to celebrate your day I tried to remember which fics I hadn’t written a rec for. I came to realize that I was never able to put my thoughts into words when it comes to my 3 favorite short fics of yours. They got me in such a Drarry fever, a tingling incoherent state of emotional devastation that I immediately put away the idea of doing recs because there was no possible way to translate my raw, ugly and chaotic feels about them. I tend to do this with fics that leave me with the so-called hangover once I’m done; funnily enough, the last time this happened - when I read Lettered’s By the Grace - it was you who helped me get that rec out by reviewing it and cheering me along the way, tysm 🥹 now it’s time to respond in kind and share love for these short gems that I have the privilege to revisit every time I need some comfort food. Lucky me, it turns out my best pal writes the exact brand of tender romance that checks all of my boxes. You are a fantastic friend and such a brilliant, talented writer. I love and admire you, and I’m so proud of everything you’ve achieved. Can’t wait to see what comes next. Happy day T! 💜

👩‍🚀 Far Side + Relic Radiation (M, 1.7k)

Draco goes into space, leaving behind his son Scorpius (who has just started at Hogwarts, at least), and his not-quite-boyfriend Harry Potter. But Harry can't stop loving Draco just because he's approximately 408km up, in constant orbit.

“You’ll kill that plant,” Draco said, and flicked a lazy charm over the pot with his fingers so the spicy smell of the lavender sharpened the night air.

“You’ll kill me,” Harry said, and Draco turned his face towards the darkened sky, lunar pale, his profile some stupid unearthly thing—a flaring blazar, a supernova—in the light from the kitchen window.

When I say the heart kick factor may hit you in the solar plexus when you least expect, this is what I’m talking about. I’ve obsessed so much over these 2 tiny shorts with single dad!Draco (one of the tropes Tacky does magic with, they are so disgustingly romantic and emotionally satisfying - gimme T’s dad!Draco anthology or give me nothing!!!) that I came up with a whole theory to prove these stories are actually connected. Whether I’m on the right track or just another delusional reader it’s yet to be seen 🤣 Draco’s devotion to baby Scorpius - and Harry’s gentle yearning for the both of them - does things to my poor heart I can’t quite put into words. Let that boy have his found family happy ending, damn it. Every time I reread these gems I get teared up and wish I could stay in this verse forever, watching Scorp grow while these two lovely men find each other time and again. To make your heart melt a bit more, check the breathtaking artwork by the one and only @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm. I cannot— *cries in Drarry*

🏜️ Between the Power Lines (M, 3k)

For Harry Potter, all roads eventually lead to Draco Malfoy.

In New Orleans, they got drunk on Bourbon Street, and Malfoy danced on his own (arms bare, laughing; Harry could have watched him all night) and later on, so late it was almost morning, they let themselves into the St Louis Cemetery—Malfoy unpicking the lock so sweetly—and walked around until the sky was pink-edged with the promise of another day’s heat. Then they sat on the steps of a crypt, watched over by sightless eyes of the statue of an angel. She looked exhausted rather than sad, Harry thought, and that made a lot of sense when he thought about his own longstanding, dull-edged grief.

The best word to describe this (literally) hot fic is “atmospheric”. T does a flawless job building impeccable Americana vibes and packing so much story while keeping it 100% character-driven. I love the elegant, contained, confident writing, I love the evocative prose and how the mutual attraction bleeds through these quiet but intense road trip vignettes. The scenario is rich and immersive, the heat so palpable you can almost taste it, and the confession at the end is my definition of peak romance. A whole sensorial experience, both introspective and exciting, vibrant and melancholy, packed within 3k. Absolutely genius.

🎯Aim For My Heart (M, 3.4k)

Harry's in love, Ron's in control, and Draco just wants a nice lunch. They say three's a crowd, but Harry doesn't always agree. Not when he gets to be in the middle, anyway.

Neither of them had asked Harry what he likes best about them, but Harry watches them and feels the sick curl of excitement low in his belly, like something lost and gained all at once, and he wonders what he’d say if they did ask; would it be mouth or hands or arse, the gleam of clean hair or the hidden scent of a freshly-revealed patch of skin, blue eyes or grey? He doesn’t think he’d tell them what he really loves the most, and that’s the fact that both of them have been his for such a long time, in one way or another, and he loves that he gets to keep them.

For reference, this will always be the Dronarry classic I refer to when I think about this ship. The way Tacky explored the implications and complications of a triad relationship in its early stages (I am so fucking weak for that mix of want, jealousy and vulnerability) combined with exquisite characterization is so well executed I could cry. Beyond that banger of a starting line (“Big hands,” Draco says, and blushes) that made me blush and squeal in delight, Harry’s POV is a triumph. He’s genuinely lovely and relatable in all his yearning and insecurities, soft and longing for both Draco and Ron. The ideia of him realizing that he gets to be loved by, and keep the two people he loves the most in the world, makes my heart burst with warmth. I can pinpoint all the small, quiet but meaningful moments that made my breath stutter and my heart beat faster. This fic is a masterclass in elaborating complex and conflicting emotions, while solving them with a light hand of tenderness and understanding. It is subtle but efficient and all-encompassing in a way that stays with you for a long time after you’ve finished reading. The perfect triad fic.

[msmargaretmurry]

it was about your actual eldest daughter quinn cisswap fic :D

hahahaha thank you for clarifying <3 even though it would have been a delightful message either way

i'm so pleased to hear it though! i love her so much, i am slowly but doggedly plugging away at that fic in the precious free time i have and i am looking forward to hopefully one day share her with you and the five other people who are excited to read her story. also it's been a while since i wrote a female protagonist and it's been such a fun and interesting writing process digging into how the gender of it all does or doesn't change things.

anyway! have a little snippet of exposition!! <3

Technically, Quinn met Brady before they were fifteen. The elite hockey world is small, and they played with and against each other at various youth tournaments, but fifteen is when everything really started. Women in the NHL were no longer brand new, although still treated like a novelty — as if that’s ever going to change — but having girls in the national team development program was still in the experimental stages. After all, international competition was still strictly gendered. Someone had convinced the powers that be that if the best girls in the game were legitimately shooting for the NHL now, then it was good for the Americans to at least present the illusion of equal institutional support, the same way Sweden and Finland were doing. Can’t be falling behind the Europeans.

So the program wanted Quinn. Her parents, despite her years on boys’ teams and her tenuous commitment to Michigan, whose D-I hockey team did not historically include girls, had expressed some reservations about sending her off to live in an environment that was 90% teen boys before her sixteenth birthday. They were supportive, yeah, but they kept asking about special accommodations — a phrase that Quinn at fifteen loathed, feeling that it highlighted a difference between her and the boys that she would prefer for everyone to just forget about. But Brady, obviously, was also program-bound, and at a spring tournament in Wisconsin, Quinn’s coach connected Quinn’s parents with Keith and Chantal. Their dads already knew each other from years in the league: Jim behind the bench and in front offices, Keith on the ice. Both families familiar with the other from years of running in the same circles. The Tkachuks, it turned out, had a place in Ann Arbor while their boys were in the program, and they would be happy to let Quinn have the basement apartment, if some guaranteed parental supervision from a take-no-shit NHL veteran would put everyone’s minds at ease.

Brady, tall and gangly with his sweaty curls matted to his head, had watched the adults deliberating for half a minute, then turned to Quinn, stuck his hand out, and said, “Hey, how ya doing? That was a sick goal from the point your last game. Seriously, hell of a shot. I pointed it out to my dad and he was like, well, yeah, Brady, you could do that too if you didn’t have legs like spaghetti noodles. So I guess it’s gonna be leg day every day this summer.”

Quinn, once she had processed all of this, her hand still being shaken, had said, “Uh, yeah, looks like you could really use some work in that department.” Then she winced internally, because, yeah, great first impression on the kid whose parents were brokering her path to the NHL right at that moment. But Brady just laughed.

“So you think you’re gonna come to the program?” he asked.

Quinn nodded at the council of grown-ups. “If they let me, yeah.”

“They’ll let you. You’re too good not to go,” Brady said, so breezily assured that for a moment Quinn forgot why she had doubts. “It’s great. You’ll love it. My brother is there and he loves it. He says it’s not weird at all having girls around. I mean, like, obviously, we’ve got Nicky and Rach on our team right now and they’re great so I didn’t think it would be weird anyway. But Matthew says—” he laughed again, shaking his head “—he says, ‘just remember, you can hit them, but don’t hit on them, and it’ll all be fine.’” 

Despite herself, by this point, Quinn was grinning. “Sounds like a pretty good rule.”

“Yeah, he’s a knucklehead, but sometimes he pops out a gem like that,” Brady said.

“Brothers are usually knuckleheads.”

“True. Wait, hey.”

Quinn gave him a sidelong look, one eyebrow raised. He slugged her in the shoulder.

“Quinny, come here a sec,” her mom said, and that’s how Quinn wound up living in Brady Tkachuk’s basement for two years.

[sunnixsunshine]

Vatican Cityyyyyy!!!!!!!!!! 🇻🇦he’s real and he’s old :)

Vatican City State // Stato della Città del Vaticano // Status Civitatis Vaticanæ

Giovanni D’Amico • he/him • February 11, 1929 • 1,642 years old (71 human years)

Originally born around 380 AD when Christianity was made the empire’s official religion by Emperor Theodosius. Would later, in 754 AD by the Donation of Pepin, be known as the Papal States until year 1870. Finally, in 1929, he would be known as Vatican City.

Vatican City is a multifaceted elderly man. A loving and strict father, one who prefers tough love over a soft and gentle touch— he’s honest about the world and it’s struggles, even to children, and doesn’t sugar coat it when someone needs to be straightened out/intervened. He’s a devoted catholic who was ordained in 1961; if you ask him why he didn’t become a priest earlier, he’ll avoid answering, starting a brand new conversation all together or just walking away without a word. He has his reasons. Don’t underestimate him, however, because of his charming smile and kind air, he can be pretty cunning and even manipulative when he wants to be. His father was the Roman Empire after all.

Vatican City gets along with most people he meets and is pretty optimistic most of the time, much like Veneziano is. But he can lose his temper, or be in frequent bad moods, over small inconveniences in similar ways to Romano. Unlike the boys, he has a very close personal relationship with Switzerland— meaning he can walk onto his property uninvited without being shot at or chased out. This is due to their history since 1506, when Pope Julius II asked the Swiss to provide protection during the Italian Wars.

His relationship with the boys are actually newly built. Before now, his longest and closest interaction with the boys was when they were children. So having more time with them now is a little out of place to Vatican City when last he saw them was when they were teenagers and now they’re fully grown adults. It is still a little difficult to remember that oh yeah Veneziano is no longer a toddler, I shouldn’t be babying him like this. Romano isn’t some kid anymore either, he’s old enough to make his own decisions now. They’re still his kids though so of course he’ll baby them sometimes. His relationship with Seborga is the same as the Italies’— although the boys have noticed he treats Seborga with a softer hand than he did when they were kids. Like Rome often did, he shows favoritism. And Seborga is “allegedly” his favorite.

He walks with a limp, which many are unsure how it was obtained, some assuming it’s France’s fault when he lived in Avignon and jokingly shun him for kicking such a “harmless kind soul”. The real reason he limps is because of a humiliating trip he took down a flight of stairs in 1312, a story he plans to take to the grave. Vatican City uses a sleek wooden cane, however it’s more for the aesthetics than for practical use.

Vatican City claims to be extremely humble and honest, but he does pride himself on his continuous unwavering faith. He doesn’t brag about it though. …..Not often. He’s always looking out to help those around him, however he isn’t actually that good of a listener so sometimes he can totally misread the situation and apply the wrong fix/advice. He’s got a bigger mouth than he does ears.

Hobbies:

Reading

Just barely keeping the house plants alive Gardening

Cooking

Notes :)))))

I made him old as a contrast to the Italies— wanted him to stand out and seem wiser than them without actually being wiser because let’s face it. None of these fuckers are very smart. I can’t decide specifically when he ages so rapidly like this, but I am leaning towards the mid 1700s. He does appear much older than Rome, who, when he fell, was roughly 55-65 human years in appearance(in my headcanon). Also, if I remember correctly, Hima did describe how he thinks Vatican City would look— old and grouchy— which I didn’t remember until like. After I finalized this design 2 years ago 💀 which is awesome! We need more grouchy old men nations! Wrinkles are hot too! /j? even with the grouchiness, I really wanted him to be more like Veneziano, so I kind of split it in half, VC sharing traits with both the Italies.

Final side note that I couldn’t make fit above— yeeeeeah he’s kind of homophobic but at least he’s the type to not voice his disapproval so loudly or tries to force his opinions on others. He kind of just awkwardly and uncomfortably leaves the situation or starts a new conversation if you bring up being queer. Its the topic he’ll avoid, not the person. He’s not transphobic tho, even if he does misuse pronouns sometimes. Well he doesn’t understand nonbinary or genderfluid identities. He’s….. he’s trying at least. I think he actually forgets Romano is a transman though— “My daughter? I have two sons- oooooh yeah. That- no I have two sons now.” Also he’s celibate. Has been for many many years, even before he was ordained.

Please correct me if I got any historical or otherwise facts wrong!

[holyghostbws]

heartbreaks and mistakes ; bws 💔

| Based on this request: hiii, do you take requests? if so, could you do an angst imagine where Brad is going thru a tough time/breakup and the band mates help him out? |

They met in december. Brad could still remember the first time it snowed that year because that same day he met her. In that very moment it had felt as if time had stop, he swore he could see the snowflakes falling in slow motion, glistening as they fell into the ground, almost as bright as her smile.

Every time they’d go out together, Brad would immediately reach for her hand. He didn’t have to look at it, he knew exactly the position of her fingers and how to intertwine them with his. If the air was too cold, he would gladly take his jacket off and put it around her shoulders; sometimes he secretly wished she would forget hers, just so he could give it his, let his arms be his blanket and let the world know she had someone. With time, forgotten clothes started to appear scattered around his flat, only for him to put them in an empty drawer that then became hers. Sometimes it wasn’t just clothes, sometimes it was an earring resting on her pillow, a scrunchie forgotten in the bathroom, the smell of her perfume in his sheets.

Brad could still picture every moment with her like it was a movie, he often found himself replaying memories in his head as if they were episodes of a tragic love story. It made no sense that he had burned and deleted all of their pictures together and even blocked her on social media, because their love was inked to his skin. Their relationship was built upon small, meaningful moments… she was home to Brad, but Brad wasn’t home to her.

Brad remembered the first time he met her parents. Unfortunately, it wasn’t something planned, they met them on one of their dates by accidentally running into them. She had introduced Brad as a friend although they were way past that state. Still, he said nothing and thought she had her reasons, maybe her parents were difficult, maybe she wanted to introduce him at a better time like a family gathering… he should’ve known. He should’ve known since the moment he said “i love you” and she never said it back, instead, she started a brand new conversation about weather. He had been foolish, he had been blinded by love and was too busy falling for her to see that he was the only one falling.

He had already pictured a future with her. They would host Christmas for their family and friends, full of peppermint-flavored kisses and presents, romantic dates on Valentines, picnics in the middle of flowers blooming, sweaty summers by the beach, matching outfits for Halloween… they never made it that far.

It was heartbreak after heartbreak for him during that relationship: “sorry I can’t meet your parents, I just think we should wait until the right moment”, “no, I can’t go out with you and your friends tonight, I have so much work to do”, “I’m so sorry I missed your concert, I know it was important to you and trust me, I hate myself for missing it but things got messy at work and they wouldn’t let me leave… you don’t want me getting fired, right?”, “I promise i’ll make it up to you”, “I swear it’s the last time that this happens”, “I’m sorry babe, please understand that it was out of my hands”, “Please believe me, I swear it won’t happen again”… There’s only so much pain a heart can take and Brad’s had been strong for so long, it was bound to happen: the breakup.

The blind fell to the floor on his birthday, when she didn’t show up. Just as many times before, she promised she’d be there on time, and he believed her, of course. Even he knew, deep in his heart, he was gonna be let down again, he decided to trust her; another mistake added to the already long list. Even in a room full of people who loved him, Brad felt miserable. How come everyone but her was there to celebrate him?

He wondered what he had done wrong to deserve that, maybe it was karma, maybe he was a shitty boyfriend, maybe it was a lesson he had to learn. It didn’t mattered why anymore, she didn’t love him and the only way to get through it was to blur everything out by getting wasted with his best mates, the ones that did show up, the ones that did care for him.

A week after his birthday, the call came.

“Hey, I think we need to talk” she said. The sentence every lover fears the most. The sentence that ends it all. Her voice sounded distant, like it was muffled. Hearing her break his heart for the millionth time would destroy him, he need to protect himself, so he tried to dissociate as much as he could from the conversation.

“About what?” He asked, trying to play it cool. He already knew, he knew exactly how it was going to go, he knew how she would try to act like she cared, like it was a difficult decision to make but after all it was the right choice.

“Can I see you? I’ll drop by your place.” He didn’t want to see her ever again, it would only make things worse for him, it would make him feel guilty when he didn’t have any reason to feel that way. It was true, but it was also true that he did want to see her, he wanted to see her everyday for the rest of his life, he wanted to see her when he woke up and when he went to sleep, he wanted to see her smiling and wanted to see her crying. Brad wanted to see her young face and then also her face after time had aged it. He wanted her, forever.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t make it” Was the first thing she said when he opened the door. Brad stood still and quiet and watched her face filling with something that seemed like regret.

“Did you even try to go?” He asked after a while. His voice was calm, he tried to appear neutral and unbothered but his eyes gave him away. There was no hiding the sadness and disappointment in them.

Her dropping her head to the floor was enough answer for him. She didn’t. And he knew that, still, it didn’t make it easier.

“I honestly don’t know what to say to you. I don’t even know why you’re here. It’s so obvious that you never cared and that you don’t feel the same way, so why bother? Don’t you have better things to do?” He still kept calm but could feel his insides shattering with every second that passed.

“Stop being so dramatic, Brad. I had a really shitty week and came here to apologize.” She rolled her eyes.

“Oh, sorry for bothering you and interrupting your apology, I have no right to be mad at you.” He could feel himself running out of patience.

“Oh god” She whined. “I knew it was a bad idea coming here, it’s impossible to talk to you when you’re like this…”

“You’re right, it was a bad idea for you to come here, you should go.” Brad said.

“I’m trying to tell you something, you asshole” She started raising her voice.

“I don’t want to hear it. I’m sick and tired of you, of always waiting for you just so you never show up, of keeping up with your bad moods and hurtful words, of always giving and receiving nothing back, I-“

“I’m sorry! I really am! I’m trying my best to be enough for you. I just want to be with you.” Her voice sounded high pitched, like she was about to cry but her eyes were dry.

“Cut the bullshit and don’t go wasting my time. Don’t waste yours. I see through your lies, I just pretended I didn’t because I loved you and wanted to believe you, but we can stop now.” The calmness in Brad faded away and was replaced by anger.

For a second, silence filled the atmosphere.

“I love you.” That was a stab that stroke to kill. It fueled him with rage and suddenly he wanted to stab her back, to hurt her as much as she did to him, but how could you hurt someone that simply doesn’t care?

Months ago, those three little words were all he wanted to hear. It’s funny how words mean nothing when they’re a little too late.

“Goodbye, y/n.”

💔

A week and a half was the longest he could keep the break up a secret from his band mates, they noticed his eyes had lost its sparkle and the bags under them.

“How you holding up mate?” James was the first one to ask. James already knew the answer to that question but felt like Brad could use the talking… that would’ve worked if Brad was communicative about his pain.

“I’m fine, actually.” Brad answered. The first days were rough for him but he had already managed to keep his feelings bottled up, regretting it and beating himself up would be of no use and besides, why would he keep being sad and mad about a relationship that was already dead? It was better to just move on and keep going on with his life, after all, the world wasn’t going to stop and nothing would change just because she didn’t love him.

“You know it’s okay to talk about your feelings, right? There’s no shame here.” James reassured him.

“Yeah, you can talk to us about anything.” Tristan intervened.

“There’s nothing to talk about. She never cared about me, why would I care about her?” Brad said, it sounded way more harsh that he intended to.

There was nothing his band mates could say that would make him feel better, that would at least ease the grieving. Memories stung him, it was like a disease with no cure and time was only a cruel reminder of a love that had maimed him.

“Yeah, mate. Fuck her. You can have any girl that you want, we should go out tonight.” Connor said. James wanted to kill him.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go out! You’ll forget about her in no time” Tristan chirped in.

“I think it’s a good idea to distract yourself but I also think you should talk about your feelings with someone and not just go and fuck the first woman you find.” James intervened, afraid of how the others would take his words.

“Oh shut up, James. What Brad needs right now is a night out to get wasted and meet a pretty face.” Tristan said with a laugh.

“Hey! Let’s go to Ibizaaaaaaa!” Connor screamed.

Brad stopped listening to his friends plans after that. He loved them, he really did, but none of them had the answers for mending his broken heart.

“Hey, uh, what if we try writing something?” Brad said after a while. Tristan and Connor stopped talking and turned their heads to him.

“Writing? Seriously?” Connor said in disbelief.

“I mean… sure, if that’s going to help you.” Tristan said and gave him a pat in his back.

“It’s a great idea! I’ll bring the guitar.” James said, seeing it as an opportunity for Brad to open up.

Brad had handwritten notes he found deep in his drawer right in his pocket: words of love that he had thought of turning into a song, into an album even… maybe those would now turn into an angry song or a sad one, or maybe into nothing. That was the magic of songwriting. After all, music and his friends had always been his therapy.