#Mascaras Market

[rebelrayne]

Babes. I need another one the market chapter 😩 I loveeee it sooo much my hammy man

Hi anon!

I'm like honestly schoolgirling a little lol I never get asks like this?? But yes, it was supposed to be out today. I just had zero time to work on it during my work day. It ended up being busier than I'd previously thought. It's supposed to be published at some point tomorrow! It's currently 9:45 PM on Monday August 5 for me and I did want to push back to Tuesday releases :)

But here's a small snippet of Chapter 5! Finn joins the Hamish & Marshall bromance this chapter and I'm honestly having the best time lol I also have a little name for their group and one of the Casa Amor girls will be telling them about what the public calls them

While the two men bickered in the middle of the kitchen, Henri stopped dead in his tracks next to Hamish. “Good morning,” he said, leaning down and pointing at Finn and Marshall. “Uh, what’s going on with them?” “They’re arguing over who’s a better friend to me. You come here thinking it’ll be two birds ripping one another’s hair out and throwing insults over you, but no. Just two grown men bickering over who cares more about your well-being and friendship,” Hamish sighed, scooting his plate over. “Bacon?” Humming, Henri stared at Finn and Marshall then nodded. He grabbed a piece of bacon and chewed silently for a moment. “So who’s winning?” “Ironically, you.” “Nice.” Patting Hamish’s back a couple of times, Henri finished off his serving then walked around to the coffee machine.

[suizra1]

The Original MakeUp Eraser, Erase All Makeup With Just Water, Including Waterproof Mascara, Eyeliner, Foundation, Lipstick, and More

[styalish]

9 Self-Care Tips You Need to Know in 2023

You may start learning to take care of yourself by following specific self-care ideas that work for most people.

Have a proper Schedule

Learning what self care tips 2023 are most helpful if you have yet to practice such activities can be challenging. Plan on devoting 20 minutes of your morning to quiet activities like reading or meditation. Then, set aside one evening a week to do something relaxing, like a hot bath or catching up with a friend. Incorporating these practices into your daily life is an excellent approach to keeping yourself on track and prioritizing your well-being.

2. Try to be Physically active

We tend to focus more on our mental and emotional well-being than physical health, yet there is an undeniable link between the two. Positive emotions and a positive physical condition go hand in hand. When you’re feeling fantastic mentally and physically, it shows in the way you move. As a self-care, frequently participate in enjoyable physical activities.

3. Shift your perspective

When you dwell on the negatives of life, it’s hard to feel content. This is so because one’s vitality follows one’s attention. Changing your viewpoint can help you see the bright side, improve your disposition, and spark novel ideas and approaches. To affect positive change in oneself, one’s surroundings, or interactions with others, one must adopt a new point of view.

4. Meditate

Meditation is one technique that can alter one’s frame of mind. Meditation is a great way to quiet thoughts and concentrate on the here and now. It’s been proven to help with stress, mood, and productivity. The practice of meditation can take multiple forms. Present-moment awareness and stress reduction are the goals of mindfulness meditation.

5. Take Healthy Foods

Cupcakes and big, rich, savory dinners may come to mind when you think about self-care comfort foods. Though it’s OK to reward yourself now and then, try to picture self-care in terms of more long-term sources of happiness, such as energizing foods and drinks high in nutrients like dark, leafy greens. Do something you enjoy, like give yourself an hour to read or watch a workout video, as a reward for your hard effort.

6. Say “NO.”

Knowing when to say “no” can be challenging as a self-care strategy. You feel like you must constantly say “yes” to requests at work and in your personal life. Having a busy schedule can be satisfying, but it’s also crucial to learn to say “no.” If you’re feeling exhausted or overworked, you owe it to yourself to take some time off. One of the best ways to take care of yourself is to make doing what you enjoy part of your self-care routine.

7. Have the focus

For some people, self-care can be as simple as taking a break from their busy schedules. Set aside some quiet time first thing in the morning. Then, prime yourself on a habit before reaching for your phone or the snooze button in the morning. To get the most out of this 10-minute exercise, you’ll need to tune into your body and mind, express gratitude, create a mental image of your ideal life, and channel your renewed optimism into achieving personal goals.

8. Entertain Yourself

You may have tried a new fitness exercise that got your heart pumping, gone on a spontaneous road trip to a foreign country, or visited a fascinating historical site. It’s easy to lose sight of the fact that self-care includes engaging in activities that make us happy under pressure. You should stop worrying about the things other people think you should care about. Enjoy yourself and go out and do something exciting.

9. Use self-care products

Supplements and nutritious smoothies are great examples of self-care products that can boost immunity and guarantee enough nourishment. A well-balanced diet improves mood and energy levels, allowing you to be more helpful to others around you. Make sure you obtain the most effective and safe supplements by doing your homework before purchasing any self-care goods.

Source Code : https://medium.com/@styalish/self-care-tips-in-2023-18d330db1dd8

[watchmegetobsessed]

TROPHY WIFE

A/N: it's been quite like a drought with me, i know, but writing just didn't come easy to me lately. but i finally felt inspired to write and this is the outcome so enjoy!

PAIRING: CEO!older!Harry x Reader

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

SUMMARY: You're not what one would expect a CEO's girlfriend to be like. You're not like all those trophy wives. But does it bother Harry? That with you it's not yachts and fancy drinks and modern luxury, just wildflowers, mismatched furniture and shared finances.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

There’s nothing better than waking up next to Harry.

Okay, there are some levels in that as well, because you truly love it when he is cuddling you and peppering your shoulder with kisses, being a total sweetheart, but there is just something even better when he wakes up needy so he ends up fucking you so well first thing in the morning that you keep thinking about it the whole day.

Today it’s the latter and you’re so glad about that. Tangled in the sheets, sweaty and eager to get more and more from each other, you just keep moaning his name until relief washes over you and it’s not even seven in the morning.

“I love you. So… so… so much,” he murmurs against your lips as he pulls you into his arms.

“I love you too,” you smirk and he just keeps kissing you.

When you first met Harry three years ago you would have never thought this is how you’d spend your mornings with him one day. He’s ten years older than you and it was a typical ‘he fell first’ situation where you tried to deny your feelings for him for as long as possible.

You thought you were as far apart as the poles, Harry was, and still is, a millionaire CEO, a true business man, living a life you could only dream about before. You, on the other hand, just finished your master’s degree back then and started working for a marketing agency that was linked with Harry’s company. You still remember the moment you laid your eyes on him, he was already looking at you with an expression that had your stomach in a knot.

He asked you out that day, not wasting any time and you said no. You said no exactly thirteen times before finally giving in and going on a date with him and you never let go of each other since then.

Now you live together and even though people tend to think that you just want to be his trophy wife and use him for his money, they can’t be more wrong. You still have your own job, you fight Harry to pay for groceries every other time and you tell him off every time he tries to give you money for nothing.

You’re equal and you never plan to use yourself just because you’re dating Harry.

He is still wrapped around you like a koala bear when you check the time and realize you better start get ready or you won’t make it to work on time.

“Uh, I need to get up,” you groan and just laugh when you feel him holding you even tighter. “Harry!”

“I want to hold you a bit more!” he whines like a child.

“I have work!”

Finally, your manage to peel him off of you and head over to the bathroom, feeling his pleased look as he follows you walk around naked. You like to tease him and all him a creep, but you both know you love it how obsessed he is with you even when you’re your truly natural self.

You’re standing in front of the bathroom mirror in your robe when he saunters into the room and leaning against the tiled wall he watches you apply your mascara in awe.

“You didn’t forget about tonight, right?” he asks, his eyes wandering down your body before returning to your face.

“Nope, fancy cocktails with your fancy friends.” You give him a teasing smirk.

“And you’ll have to wear a fancy dress,” he adds.

“I know.”

“I got you one, by the way.”

“Harry, you know you don—“

“I know I don’t have to buy you shit, but you also know I love spoiling you sometimes. The dress will be in your closet when you get home,” he states, all bossy and confident and you feel the tingles in your tummy from this side of him. It’s not often he uses his dominance on you outside of the bedroom, but whenever he does, it’s always the right amount to make you weak for him.

He pushes away from the wall and walking behind you he presses a kiss to the back of your head before walking towards the door.

“I have a last minute meeting, but I will be here to pick you up at seven.” And with that he walks out.

You leave from work early to get ready for the evening. Luckily, your work is pretty flexible and it allows you to work your schedule around the social events Harry asks you out to every once in a while.

It’s not often, though. You never talked about it, but it’s like both of you knows it’s not your favorite way to spend time together. Truth is, you don’t quite fit into the circles Harry runs in. You’re not talking about his close friends, they are amazing, Sarah and Mitch are wonderful people and you’d jump to have a double date with them anytime for example. It’s the outer circle, the people Harry doesn’t necessarily consider his friends, but he makes his rounds with them every once in a while to keep up a somewhat positive relationship with them, because they are loosely also business connections and he needs them.

Tonight is one of these events, some kind of fancy rooftop party for whatever occasion where the men are smoking cigars and drink expensive bourbon while the women look good, sip on their cocktails and gossip for hours. It’s not quite your setting, but it’s not that painful every once in a while.

When you arrive home you quickly get ready, gather your hair in a sleek bun, touch up your makeup and then walk into your closet to find an elegant black dress hanging there, waiting for you to put it on.

Harry knows your taste well, it’s not over the top, but the open back and high slit brings just enough spice to the look. You pair it with the diamond earrings he got you for your latest anniversary and when you look in the mirror you feel like a boujie, quite hot version of yourself, just what you need for tonight.

At 6:57 Harry texts you.

HARRY: You ready? I’m waiting for you.

Y/N: Be there in a minute.

You slip on your heels, grab your purse and then make your way downstairs. As you’re walking across the hall you already see Harry standing by his car, waiting for you with a huge bouquet of flowers.

All wildflowers.

You’re all smiles when you step outside and approach him.

“You look amazing, baby,” he smiles as he gathers you in one arm, pulling you in for a kiss.

“Need to look fine for my man,” you chuckles, patting his chest and running your hands down the lapels of his chic suit.

“This is for you,” he hands you the bouquet and you can finally have a better look at the colorful flowers.

It’s been an ongoing thing between the two of you, Harry has never given you any roses. After your very first date he just knew you weren’t the kind who wants the expensive rose boxes women beg their partners for. You’re different, unique and he knew you appreciate the beauty in things others might consider not fitting. Wildflowers are not quite what women who are dating a millionaire want, but it’s definitely what brings you joy.

“It’s beautiful, thank you,” you smile up at him and steal another kiss before he opens the car door for you and helps you into the passenger seat.

The event is what you expected, what you always expect. You make your rounds with Harry, he keeps a hand on your waist at all times, always making sure you’re alright, you have something to drink and he keeps asking if you’re cold, but it’s a warm late summer evening, so he has nothing to worry about.

At one point you part ways, it’s how it always goes, the men gather and the women form their circle as well.

“I swear, I was ready to jump off that boat and swim to the shore!” Riah, one of the wives gestures wildly as she tells a story about their latest trip to Italy, making everyone laugh.

The boat here means their luxury yacht and the reason why she wanted to leave was because they ran out of her favorite champagne. Relatable, right?

“Anyway, it was nice, we’re going on another trip next month. Y/N, wouldn’t you and Harry want to come with us?” she asks, putting you into the spotlight.

“Oh, um… I can’t really just go on a vacation on such a short notice. We usually put in our days off about two months in advance.”

The looks you get are worth a million dollars, truly. There’s confusion, pity, they obviously don’t understand why you’re working when you have Harry. They are all typical trophy wives, they spend their days shopping, going to the spa, spending the money they didn’t earn.

You don’t judge them, everyone gets to live their life the way they want, but they do judge you and that’s what irks you.

“Ah, I see,” Riah forces a smile to her face. “Well, next time… let’s plan it out like a year ahead.”

You notice the edge in her words but choose not to call her out and just nod in agreement.

“Hey, want to grab another drink?” Noora suggests you, saving you from the conversation that flows to the upcoming Fashion Week, something you will probably no attend.

Noora is the only person you get along well in this circle. She is a lot like the other women, she doesn’t work and she is definitely kept by her husband, but she is not blatantly ignorant towards people who are different from her.

“Don’t listen to Riah, she’s been a bit mouthy since she found out her cousin’s wedding cost more than hers.”

You can’t help but smile at her comment as the two of you walk up to the bar.

“I don’t know why they are always so shocked by my answers, I’ve been around for a while now and they still don’t understand me.”

“Because they don’t want to. They are happy in their little bubble,” Noora shrugs. “Just let it go. It’s not worth getting upset, you’ll just have to get through these nights.”

Nodding you let her bring something else up to talk about, but as your gaze wanders over to Harry your thoughts continue to swirl around.

He used to go on these random vacations all the time, before he started dating you he ran in these circles a lot more often, you know for a fact he went sailing to Italy at least five times a year and those weren’t considered vacations, he spent months away in Thailand, Dubai and in all corners of Europe.

It’s not like you don’t travel. You do and you love it too, but you’re also working and it doesn’t let you take two weeks off every other month. You’ve had plenty of adventures together, but you planned them all ahead and you also insisted sharing at least part of the cost. Your job pays well, but not ‘spend a month cruising on a yacht on the Adriatic Sea’ well.

Is it possible Harry misses it? That he wants you to be like these women? Free and ready to get on a private jet anytime he wants to drink his morning coffee by the Eiffel Tower? Does he want you to be his trophy wife?

His sixth sense is on, his eyes find you as you’re drowning deep in your thoughts and he shoots you a soft smile, mouthing: “You alright?”

You force a smile on your face and just nod, but you know it didn’t convince him at all, however this is not the time and place to have this discussion.

As the night carries on you just keep adding to your list of things that could possibly be an inconvenience for Harry.

Your job, wanting to be somewhat financially independent, your lack of enthusiasm for the social conformities that women in these circles are held against…

Arriving back home the feeling just intensifies, looking around the penthouse you notice how much it has changed since you’ve moved in. Before it was all modern luxury, precisely decorated, something out of an interior design magazine.

Half of the furniture has been changes, there are second hand pieces, little nick-nacks all around the place, a lot more colors and a lot less modernity.

Walking into your closet you step out of your heels and pull off your dress when Harry appears.

“Want to talk about it?” he asks. He doesn’t question if there’s something to talk about, he knows there is, because he knows you so well.

You take a few moments to think about how to put it all into words. Grabbing a big shirt you pull it on before turning to face Harry.

“Do you… Do you want me to be your trophy wife?”

Pure confusion takes over his handsome face as his eyebrows shoot up.

“Explain this a bit more to me, baby,” he asks as he casually walks closer. You know he wants to touch you, pull you into his arms, but he wants to give you space to voice your thoughts, so he just gently runs his knuckles down the side of your face.

“Does it ever bother you that I’m not like those wives?”

“In what way do you think you should be like them?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

“It’s just… We don’t go on random yacht cruises, our home has mismatched furniture because I didn’t want to get rid of some of my stuff, I’m not… I don’t stay home, I have a job that I don’t want to give up… Do you want me to be more like them?”

He finally understands what this is about.

Takin your hand he pulls you out of the closet and sits on the edge of the bed, tugging you until you’re sitting on his lap, your knees on either sides of him. His hands rest on your naked thigh, soothingly running up and down as he looks you in the eyes.

“Baby, all I want is you. The way you are. No changes.”

The first wave of relief washes over you and then he continues.

“Do I want to travel the world as much as possible? Of course, but I also love that you want to work and build your own career, I love how ambitious you are and I wouldn’t want you to give it up just so we can go on yacht cruises every weekend,” he chuckles softly. With a sheepish smile you place your hands to his chest, feeling the heat radiating through his dress shirt underneath your palms.

“I love our home, I love the mismatched furniture, it’s a piece of you merged into a piece of me. I don’t want you to stay at home. Or I do, but only if that’s what you want to do. I want you to be happy. Are you?”

“I am,” you nod without hesitation.

“Then I’m happy too. I love you and I do want you to be my wife. The trophy part? Not so much.”

Now it feels silly you even thought about all of this. Harry never gave you a reason to believe he wants something different, you shouldn’t have let yourself be fooled.

“I love you too,” you smile at him before leaning in to kiss his soft lips. “And I love our life,” you mumble after several kisses.

“I love it too. The wildflowers, the secondhand furniture, our fights every time I try to pay for something,” he grins at you, hi army caging you into his embrace as he pulls you tight against him. “I love every unique piece of you and of us.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[honeylullaby]

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

(Mentions of Lizzie!)

You unknowingly take on the job as RCB’s personal assistant, destined to work side-by-side with a man who’s allure knows no bounds.

18+ FANFIC / SMUT, angst, scandal, everything in between. Probably going to be a few parts? Reader character aged at 21. • indicates start of smut. As always, request whatever you wanna see in my ask box 💋

First day on the job, you think to yourself, must make a good impression. Taking a pace back to inspect yourself in the floor length mirror of Lizzie Vereker’s bedroom, you furrow your brow in apprehensiveness. Crisp white shirt — top two buttons undone to just reveal the lace lining of your black bra, as advised by Lizzie — tucked into a short charcoal pencil skirt, opaque black tights and black kitten heels.. most certainly the personification of office siren. Your makeup was gentle, but visible — soft rouged cheeks, glossed lips, mascara carefully preened onto wispy eyelashes, terrifically arched brows and chestnut hair pulled into a messy bun. “Well, I give it precisely… 4 minutes before Rupert makes a move. And that’s with him practising upmost self restraint.” Lizzie joked, smoothing a crease from your back and shooting you a subdued smile. “Anyway, he’ll be here in about 5 minutes to pick you up, so I hope you’re ready.” She adds, prompting even the smallest of response from you. All you could muster was a small nod. “You really must learn to drive, you know. If you’re going to be his PA. You’ll meet him today, and you won’t be able to track him down for the next fortnight.” Your tawny-haired friend instructs. You open your mouth to defend yourself, but a faint knock at the door sends shivers across the length of your spine.

Scurrying down the stairs in excited shrieks of glee, you straightened yourself out as Lizzie opened the door to the most magnificently pulchritudinous man — locks of ink-black hair, azure eyes & chiselled bone structure that could rival only that of Adonis. Leaning against the doorframe, adorned in a fawn-beige suit and puffing on a freshly-lit cigarette, the man’s eyes brightened at the sight of Lizzie. “Hello, darling! I didn’t think you’d be in.” He beamed, pulling her in for a hug. Paying close attention to your sheepish expression, Rupert pulled away and softened his brows. “And you must be my new PA. Enchanted to meet you. Rupert Campbell-Black.” He introduced himself, taking a hold of your svelte hand and planting a gentle kiss upon it. “Right, much to do today, Sir. Shall we get going?” You awkwardly mutter, motioning towards the open front door. He shoots a look to Lizzie, that you don’t quite get the chance to see. You peck the side of your friends cheek, and pace through the door to your transport.

Sleek, gleaming and most certainly distinctive— your jaw dropped at the sight of Rupert’s pretty white car. “Porsche 959. Fastest car on the market. Cost a pretty penny too.” Rupert notifies you, catching the astonished look on your lips. Pretending quickly not to take any notice and getting into the car, you anxiously panic with the seat belt, tugging at it sharply and release a small whimper in embarrassment. “Allow me.” Rupert smiles, and leans over you to unfold the belt. The manly, earthy fragrance of his aftershave lingered in your nostrils and he maintained unyielding eye contact as he tampered with the belt. “Onwards we go.” He chimes, reclining back in his seat and beginning the minute long drive back to his.

Pulling onto the gravelled driveway of Penscombe Court, you take a moment to assimilate to the sumptuous country house that stood afore you. “It’s unlocked. Office is the first door on the right, you can see yourself in.” Following instructions, you tiptoe your way through the immense front door and seat yourself in the office, knees tightly tucked together and hands folded in your lap. Rupert followed promptly, brandishing a bottle of whiskey and two intricately patterned tumblers. “Drink?” He asked, placing the two tumblers onto the desk. “No thank you, I’m working.” You reply with a sweet smile. He rolled his eyes slightly at your morality and poured two glasses, amber liquid teetering over the brim. “Drink. It’s good for nerves.” He raised an eyebrow, taking a large gulp of his own drink and sitting at the desk, opposite you and with legs splayed carelessly. “I’m not nervous.” You respond, cheeks blushing a furious shade of rose.

“So, first on the agenda, negative publicity. I’ve been fucking this French actress at the moment but she’s getting rather needy so I’ve not been returning her calls. She’ll need contacting to keep her sweet.” He notifies you, tapping the end of his pen against the desk and running his tongue over his teeth. Prick, you think to yourself. “Right okay,” You begin, glancing up at him whilst pulling a notepad from your handbag. “Sorry, what constitutes needy?” You ask, turning your head sideways in confusion. Rupert cannot help but push out a snigger. “I’m all for a bit of fun, but it’s terribly uncouth of woman to beg.” He titters, but you don’t reciprocate a smile. “Hmm. Maybe she thinks it’s terribly uncouth to fuck her and never call her back.” You jibe, screwing your mouth into the most brilliantly jesting position you can.

A smirk painted itself across Rupert’s lips as he blinked slowly, admiring your veracity and drinking in your unimpeachable beauty. He stood from his chair and walked around the desk, kicking your own chair from under the desk to face him. You yelped faintly in surprise as you gawped at him with widened, emerald eyes. “If there’s one thing you should take from this experience, I never call them back. Please just give them a swift excuse and send them a necklace or something. I’ll give you my card.” Rupert winks self assuredly. “Maybe I should do that for myself. Make up an unconvincing excuse and buy myself a necklace.” You hastily chastise.

“Do you want to fuck?” Rupert asks in response to your protest. His brazenness makes you the breath catch in your throat, wheezing out a spluttering cough. “What?” You ask, taking a bitter sip of whiskey to regain your breath. “I feel like you’re not relaxed. It might help to eliminate any awkwardness. We can fuck, and then you might be able to speak to me normally.” He shrugs his shoulders, completely believing his own farcical ideology. “Mr Campbell-Black! No! Don’t be ridiculous!” You scold, shaking your head in incredulity. “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.” Rupert smirks, followed by a particularly large gulp of whiskey, and pouring himself another teeming glass.

Lizzie’s estimate was wrong — rather than 4 minutes, it had taken approximately 16 minutes for Mr Campbell-Black to accost you. “Maybe we should fuck. But I can promise you it won’t make things any less awkward. I’ll turn up to work everyday, attend your Venturer meetings and note down dates, meet with your ministerial colleagues and seem sophisticated… but you’ll never be able to rid yourself of the thought of me wrapped around you.” You tease, crossing tighted legs together and raising an eyebrow towards him. Rupert’s mouth stood agape — a dangerous concoction of sudden lust & bewilderment. “Maybe we should. I wouldn’t mind picturing your cum face every time I looked at you.” He utters, inching closer towards you and watching you fend off the urge to bite your lip.

•

Kneeling down to your level, it took a mere matter of moments for the pair of you to crash your lips together — a lascivious cacophony of passion, tongues fighting for dominance within each others mouths. Raking his hand through your dishevelled bun, he tightened his grip and awaited your painful moan. “Is that okay?” He tentatively asks, suddenly acutely aware of causing you pain. You nod your head in consent, and begin to unbutton the rest of your blouse, standing from your chair now to shuffle out of your skirt. You begin to peel your tights away from your shapely legs, but a firm hand prevents you. “Leave them on. I want to rip them from you.” He grins, beginning his own treacherous journey to remove his clothes until he stood, completely naked and gargantuan penis throbbing.

An anticipatory moan left your lips as you bent yourself over the desk, your considerably large arse threatening to burst through the sheer fabric of your tights. Rupert pawed softly as his growing cock, pre-cum beading over his pink tip as he eyed at your black thong. Gripping handfuls of your tights and tearing them away from your skin, he knelt down and delicately bit your right cheek, subsequently swirling a soothing pattern onto the bite with his tongue. You purred under his touch, crimson-painted fingernails digging indents into his mahogany desk. Parting your thong away from your glistening cunt, Rupert muttered to himself and rose up, teasing the tip of his cock against your entrance. “Tell me how much you want it, angel.” He goaded you, restraining himself from just plunging his cock inside you. “Please, Daddy. I need it.” You found yourself begging. As soon as he processed your new affectionate name for him, he thrusted into you, instantaneously groaning at the feeling of your tight, soaked folds around him.

“Wow, darling. You’re so tight. How long were you going to keep that a secret?” Rupert teased, a devilishly optimistic tone coursing through his breathless pants. Wasting no time in increasing his tempo, your pleasurable groans amplified as Rupert moved his right hand, reaching underneath your stomach to squeeze at your bouncing breasts. “Fuck Daddy, you feel so fucking big.” You whimper, Rupert’s girth stretching you further with every pump. Pulling his cock from your cunt — which accompanies a disgruntled groan from your supple lips. Forcefully, Rupert swipes a muscular arm across the length of his desk, important documents and exorbitantly prices fountain pens cascading to the floor. With a more gentle hand, he laid you on your back across the desk and took a moment to drink in the ethereal image of your body.

“Fuck, angel. You’re so beautiful.” He moans breathlessly, running his hands over your breasts and across your stomach. Reaching a slender arm towards his wrist, you pull it towards your neck, urging him to apply gentle pressure. More than impressed, Rupert raised a hazelnut eyebrow and obliged, thrusting his dripping cock back into you. “You’re such a horny bitch. Wanting me to choke you now?” He smirks, the heavenly sight of your agape mouth causing his abs to clench in ecstasy. You’d be foolish not to notice this, and notice you did. Clenching your soft cunt tighter around his cock, your body pleaded his for orgasm— Rupert’s face sharpening under the strengthening pressure.

“Do you want me to cum inside you, angel?” He asked you in anticipation, but your sniffling moans were escaping your lips too recurrently & rapidly to reply. Rupert fucking loves to make women a whimpering mess, but this was something else entirely. His grip on your neck tightened ever so slightly, and his thrusts became orderly and firm — his preparation for release. “Fuck angel, I’m gonna cum. Tell me just how badly you want Daddy’s cum inside of you.” He instructed, lowering his face towards yours, hot breath reverberating against your skin. “Please, Daddy. Please give it to me.” You implored in response, but you needn’t.

The most breathtaking fuckkk left Rupert’s lips as vast ropes of sweet cum coated the walls of your cunt, each shot partnered with a stifled breath and a careless thrust. Your moans interlaced with his — the most perfect orgasm you’ve ever experienced. Allowing his cock to soften inside you, Rupert pulled away from your cum-coated cunt after a moment, visibly perspiring.

Aware of the protocol, you sat up slowly, patting the heated skin of your cheek and surveying the room for something to clean yourself up with. Without prior notice, Rupert planted a soft kiss on your lips — passionate, not lustful. Not a thank you, but the conclusion to a making of love. “Much less awkward now, angel. The thought of that shall never leave my mind.” He smirked once again.

[blingblong55]

Good girl behaviour -Simon 'Ghost' Riley NSFW

Based on a request:

God I need Ghost to fuck the reader out of jealousy, but denying every fucking orgasm, and when the reader apologies for flirting with someone to have his attention, he says "Apologizing now won't give you an orgasm little bitch"

F!Reader, smut, MDNI, 18+, jealous!Ghost, denied!orgasm, rough!sex, fingering, dom!Ghost, degrading, oral!sex, establish!relationship

You have been needy all day, you wore the pretty little skirt he likes but still, he didn't pay attention to you. You wore the shirt that shows your cleavage best and still, he didn't pay any sort of attention to you. That was until you two went to the market, he wandered whilst you talked to the man in the aisle, moving certain ways which made him notice your body more. Your voice so soft and innocent, "can you reach for that, im not as tall as you~" you get on your tiptoes to demonstare and thats when Simon comes in, grabbing the item and walking away with you, his arm snaked around your hip.

At home, he fingered you too much and each time he knew you were close, he would slap your tits and stop. Three orgasms were denied and by some point, he had you on your knees. A collar around your neck, leash on his hand as he watched you whimper. "Don't act innocent, R/N." he tightened his grip on the leash, choking you more. You give him a pouty lip, and you knew best, no brats were allowed in his bed. "You're nothing but a useless cum slut, R/N." he spits out. You whimper once more and he slaps you lightly and chokes you with his hand.

"You know I won't let you cum for what you did back in the market, sluts like you are worthless and don't deserve to cum, especially when they know getting fucked by me is a privilege." Your eyes pleading for any form of release, your pussy against his boot, the aching clit of yours screaming for him to fuck you. But that is how he is, training you to be the ideal cum slut for him. "Do you think I'm going to give you want you to want when you whimper?" he chuckles and cups your face, "My love, this is not how it works, not one bit, my darling," his voice smooth as silk.

"If you want to apologise, use that mouth for good," he says and you pout more. He grabs one of your tits and licks the already hard and sensitive nipple. Your piercing occasionally gets moved around in his tongue. You moan and squirm only for him to stop and get up. "Simon-"

"No, I'm not entertaining an orgasm for you and you better stay there like the good girl you are."

Minutes later, he comes back, cuffs in one hand whilst the other holds his drink. He sits down, "Make me cum first and I'll maybe think about fucking you." he unzips his trousers and you knew the drill by now. So, you reach for his cock, taking it out and before even daring to let your lips touch it, you look up at him. "Do it, darling." he nods and your tongue licks his tip.

Soon enough, he fists your hair, pushing you deep, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag and drool all over his shaft, your throat a guaranteed soreness for tomorrow. The stickiness of his body mixing with yours. He pulls his cock out, letting you breathe, "You're doing so well my darling, but take me like the cum slut you are, don't want to disappoint me now, do you?" You shake your head and he smiles, a soft kiss on your forehead and he goes back to that fucking you.

You mascara running down your cheeks, he wipes them off, "you're being so obedient, my love." he whispers as you continue to get throat fucked by his massive cock. You gag more, the wet noises filling the bedrom, your red tits getting abused by his constant slaps. He then chokes you, adoring how you gagged more on his cock and the feeling it gave him bringing him more pleasure. Once he begins to cum inside of you, he slows the thrusts and pulls his cock out of your mouth.

The white and stickiness of his seed falling down your face like drool. And before you can react, he grabs your hips, and with a desperate move, he slams you on the bed. Your back on the soft blanket, your thighs on his sides as he removes your panties, two fingers inside of you before he begins to eat you out. His tongue already savouring your juices, your clit swollen and ready to be fucked and pleased. "Beg me to suck on this precious clit, darling." he looks at you, you are already a mess and can only nod. He slaps your pussy, "I said beg, bitch," voice low with a growl. "Suck my clit, please, I need it, please~" your eyes shut.

His tongue and mouth bring you waves of pleasure, "cum for me, sweet girl." once more being soft to you. Your clit is beautifully pleased by him, and your body reacts towards the need that you have to finally cum. "Cum, please, I need my little doll to cum." he coos. A knot in your stomach, your fingers gripping the bedsheet underneath, your moans loud, too loud it makes them sound very pornographic. "Say you belong to me," he demands. You look at him, eyes almost unfocused from the incoming orgasm, "i belong to you!" you say between moans and whimpers.

"Fuck!" you cry, your legs feeling weak, his mouth not stopping. And then you let out a gasp, your eyes shut and you finally have your much-needed orgasm.

Your slick coating his lips and tongue. He licks his lips, and looks at you, eyes soft but still with that grin like the devil. "My my," he lays next to you, arms wrapping around you, "You did such a good job, my sweetness," he whispers as he kisses your forehead, a blanket covering your delicate body. "You are my life," he kisses your forehead again. "You belong to me, don't you, R/N?" his calloused hands caressing your soft skin. "Yes," you kiss his hand and he smiles. "Good, that's good my girl."

@liyanahelena @urmajestyzel @karurururu @hope-3429 @ghostslillady @alxexhearts @muffinsncoffee

[boizandgurlzinthehouse]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈��. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐄.

pairing: coriolanus snow x toxic!fem!reader

summary: someone always throw a spanner in her works, to achieve her biggest dream —being coriolanus’ lover, wife and claiming power. luckily, y/n is not on the loser side when it comes to playing. 

trigger warnings (overall): mastermind!reader, toxic!reader (for real, she’s doing nasty things), reader’s family is a bit fucked up, reader is obsessed with coriolanus snow, lying, swearing, blood, violence, killing people, hunger games stuff, i just love volumnia gaul, reader hates lucy gray and everybody who’s around coriolanus, mental health problems mentioned such as psychotism, domestic violence mentioned, drugs, mention of sexual fantasies. 

trigger warnings (in this part): mastermind!reader, toxic!reader (for real, she’s doing nasty things), reader is obsessed with coriolanus snow, lying, swearing, drugs, mention of sexual fantasies, wet dreams, screaming out from anger, hate speech, hate-thoughts.

prologue. part 1.

her nose bleed. 

looking into the mirror, everybody could wonder that it didn't break from the look on y/n’s face. nosebleeding happened a lot of the time with her, her brother,  joked like “this is what happens when even your blood can’t stay near your thoughts.” well, only if he knew that sometimes, it was true. 

standing up, blasting the vases and the dolls she had on her shelf with a scream, everything fell down to the floor, broken into pieces, some of it cutting up her foot. still screaming, crouching to the ground, tearing out the pages of the old plan, she split her stupidity into litter. her whole body shook as she drew out the white powder she got from festus, spreading some on the edge of her thumb, sniffing it up. waiting until the calming feeling crawled in her blood to his brain and every little corner of her body, she felt full for a moment. her whole body shook as she stood up, stepping over the shards and thorns of her vases, her dolls and her roses. stomping over a doll with black hair, sy/n sat back to the dressing table. swiping the mascara off her face, then her lipstick, with baggy eyes, smeared makeup, with the eyes of a madwoman, her lips like she just ate something raw, her blood mixing with black and red, she wanted to tear up that bitch. 

but let’s not be so fast. let’s begin with the first things and signs, the signs that got y/n in this state. 

to begin with the good news, clemensia finally got out of the picture. y/n began the day at volumnia gaul, as she wrote in y/n’s response letter that she should be there tomorrow morning, so she can begin as soon as it’s possible. wearing her best clothes, she stood at nine am before the doctor’s doors. drinking a tea with her, y/n only saw only now how intimidating she looked –one of her, the ice blue one, came from the devil itself. 

“i’m not gonna lie miss y/l/n, but when i saw your application letter on my desk, i was surprised.” 

“how so? i mean, dr. gaul, i knew only the best biologists and scientists work for you, and i wanted to be one of them.” 

“really? oh, yeah, i remember about your assignment, dear. tell me, when you wrote those words and sentences, did you already think about working at the game?” 

“i mean… dr. gaul, please don’t get it wrong, i’m not really interested in the outcome of the games. twenty three people die anyway, and it’s not the maker’s task to make the games more interesting. that task is for the marketing section. i only want to see how venom can be planted.” 

“is the littlest, sweetest child of cyril y/l/n interested in venom?” 

“venom can be useful in so many ways. it can heal, and it can make things more interesting. it can make a single dinner turn into a full-night drama.” 

volumnia looked at y/n, then began to giggle. y/n never felt something like before; it crawled down into her veins, just like the drugs she used, scratching her brain, just like the day of the graduation. 

“miss y/l/n, i’m sure you have some ideas. and it’s not only about mono– and dicotyledons. come with me, let me show you something.” 

their heels clicked on the floor as the biologists looked at a big glass-cage in front them. at first she didn’t even realize what she saw, only a million scales crawling into each other, different metallic colors in every shade of the rainbow, never stopping, always slowly moving pressed to each other like shiny, long bowels. it was a glass cage, full of snakes. but what’s so special about it?

“they are venomous.” could dr. gaul read her mind? “it’s my newest invention. these snakes can poorly see or hear, but have better smell than any dog, and much more venom than any of their natural kindreds.” stepping closer, y/n placed her hand on the glass. only one knock, and they both could be dead at this very moment. 

“it’s truly amazing, dr. gaul.” she answered. 

as one of dr. gaul’s assistants led her around after her lunch –everybody wore white clothes, some of them had masks on their face–, in the early afternoon, coriolanus and clemensia came in. speaking of the devil, she was sitting at one of the tables in the big, white hall full of canned animals and organs, running through papers and listing the books she had to read as he stepped in. y/n completely forgot about the annoying girl beside her, thinking about their date, she sprayed a little perfume on herself when she saw them coming closer. at night, y/n had first so-called wet dream –she attended a sleepover at arachne’s house twice, and they were talking about these kinds of dreams, when girls dreamed about their ‘crush’. why call it ‘crush’ when you can call it lover? sooner or later, if you’re tenacious enough, they’re gonna be your lover. or was it just y/n? anyway, she knew what sex was and that it was good (although she never did it), but it was strange to wake up feeling hot like having a fever. feeling that her underwear was sticky, at first she thought that she had her period, but looking at it –nothing. she wasn’t a daydreamer, but when she thought back to the dream, reaching for coriolanus as he hovered ove her from above, holding his big hand, caging hers as he kept his other hand at the back of her neck, long fingers digging into the nape of her hair, stroking it with each jolt, burying his face into her neck, giving out grunts like an animal, moving his hips into hers while y/n held onto his broad, sculpted shoulders– it was a little bit weird that her mind wasn’t focused. she was… wandering. how weird! 

“hey, y/n, you already here?” clemensia asked her, making her look up from the paper. stilted smile, wide eyes, looking like she was ready to get all the credit from coriolanus for herself… yeah, she’s still a certified, annoying bitch. 

“hello, y/n.” corio said, making her look at him with a slight smile. just like she always did. 

“hi to you too. yes, well, seems like dr. gaul isn’t a procrastinator. she’s really a professional.”

“aren’t you scared to work between stuff like this? these glasses are creeping me out…” clemensia muttered. these things are hiding in you too, honey. sadly, the brain is missing, maybe in you too. 

“no, i’m not. it’s rather interesting, biology and science are the future.” 

before they could speak any further, volumnia appeared. 

“i see you two just found your little friend, already on the front.” 

“yes, and we are so happy about it.” said clemensia, dr. gaul bidded y/n to go with them. of course you are happy, connections are everything. y/n couldn’t decide if clemensia really was this bootlicker by her nature, or that his father was in trouble. 

“miss y/l/n already have seen my newest, beautiful babies, but i want you to see them too.”

“is there a point to a color?” clemensia asked as they stepped up on the stairs before y/n. 

“there’s a point to everything, miss devcoat, or to nothing at all… which brings me to your proposal.” dr. gaul answered, leaning with one arm on the cage. “which one of you actually wrote it?” 

looking at the snake cage, knowing the snakes had really good smelling affinitions, dr. gaul’s question… did she doubt it, too? sure there were cameras on the reception, and as coriolanus told her, he handed in the paper. did she doubt it? no. she knew that it was not her. after clemensia’s little speech, y/n slightly smirked, but when coriolanus looked back at her, she reassuringly smiled. 

“...so miss devcoat, reach in it for us, won’t you? so we might all consider your inspired ideas. don’t worry, my little predators are perfectly docile with those who they know they can trust. so if they’re used to your scent, if you’ll handle their food, for example… or if they’ve inhaled the sweat of your palm on a page.” 

the fear on clemensia’s face was satisfying. of course, y/n didn’t want her to die, she wasn’t a savage, but she needed to learn her lessons. and when she got bitten in a sudden moment, falling down… y/n almost couldn’t contain the honest smile on her face. coriolanus of course, was scared about what happened to her, and she tried to act like it, too. 

“miss y/l/n read about them this morning, surely she can say something about what this was.” dr. gaul said, making coriolanus turn to her. 

“i think that this is just the natural selection of humanity. i wouldn’t think that clemensia lied, but… these snakes proved it. by scent, of course, but judging and deciding is in every creature on this planet. they just went against it.” 

“mr. snow, your dear friend sees it right. and god, your suggestions! i will recommend my team implement as many as possible tomorrow, spread it in front of my team.” however, coriolanus didn’t seem eased. 

“will she die?” 

“the pleasure in breaking ground in one’s research as one gets to find it out. you better keep miss dovecote’s faith between us. i don’t think her mother would be happy to learn how her daughter was caught in a sudden… flu.” coriolanus looked at y/n. she furrowed her eyebrows, but knew that dr. gaul wasn’t one to fuck with. but one was out from her list, if she goes with speed like that, she can bid her problems really soon goodbye.

eating lunch together again, coriolanus suddenly held her hand. although it made her excited, his face contained the same worry he had when he saw clemensia. 

“y/n, you are one of her workers now. dr. gaul is… i have some precautions with her, did you see what she did with clemensia?” 

y/n nodded, stroking his hand with her thumb. 

“corio, dear, dr. gaul did that because she knew you were the one who wrote all those proposals and ideas. she just couldn’t stand the unfairness.” 

“i know, but she could have done it in a more gentle way, couldn’t she?” 

“she could, of course. dr. gaul just wanted her to learn a lesson, she was always on your back, coriolanus. i feel really sorry about her” no, of course i’m not. “, but you need to cut off the people who don't help you by their true being. i think casca highbottom’s goal was also this, for all of you to realize these things.” was it emotional and logical enough? she really hoped, and she eased up when coriolanus’ eyes lit up. 

“you are right, y/n. i’m grateful to you for telling me the truth.” 

“i’m never telling the truth, i am not a judge. or, only the times when it’s time. i’m just saying my thoughts as an outsider.”

“you may be an outsider by the games, but you’ll never be one in my life. thank you so much.” 

“i’m always happy to hear your thoughts, corio.” enough from the bullshit, let’s get to the more important stuff. “by the way, the date… how am i supposed to dress? our chauffeur can drive us anywhere, i talked with my father and he can go with his administrative car, so…”

“i want to bring you to a little restaurant, where i ate with my family when i was a child. it’s not big, but i really hope you will like it. and you can wear anything you want, i’m not gonna be disappointed.” 

y/n wanted to kiss him. so bad, to seal their whole life forever. despite that fact and her wants, she brushed one of her locks behind her ear. 

“thank you, corio. i just want it to be perfect.” 

after lunch, standing up, as y/n guided him out, he held her hand. 

“what will you do for the rest of the day?” she asked coriolanus, hoping they can be together for more time than just a simple lunch. if the date goes well, and it will go well, will they have little, secret dates together? will he come for her family’s dinner? it was mandatory always in her family, and he didn’t need to be introduced, but still, it was tradition. 

“i’m going to see if lucy gray is okay in the zoo. tomorrow we are planning on getting them food, would you go with me? the others will be there as well, and i’d like to introduce you to her.” 

really? well, it can happen, only if the media isn’t there. but it will, because these actions are making history right now. and if y/n is on the side of coriolanus, it can help him. her family, mainly her father will make her a joke, but he was so cynical that it didn’t matter. and this way, she can check that lucy gray for herself. 

“i’ll go with you, of course! it’s a wonderful idea.” she grabbed into his arms as they stepped out on the gates. she needed to go back of course, but she didn’t mind. 

“thank you, y/n. after that, be there at the restaurant at seven in the evening.” 

“i can’t wait for it, corio.” she smiled, looking up at him. brushing her hair, coriolanus bent down to kiss her cheek. it needed such a little move of her head to catch his lips, but she contained herself. today’s sacrifices are for tomorrow’s prizes. his lips were perfect, of course, including her dream from yesterday’s night, she held onto his arm to stroke it. 

“then tomorrow, y/n. take care of yourself, okay?” 

“just as always, please do the same, dear.” she muttered, making him smile. to kiss his lips, to dig her fingers into his hair, to lay into his arms as they watched that the majority of the votes called to him on the election of the presidency of panem… having dreams like this was the cause she didn’t get medicine through her veins. 

well, maybe they needed it after the tv-show at night. laying on her bed as usual, smoking a cigarette while reading, thinking about the outfit she could wear tomorrow night, her sister knocked on her door. 

“can i come in, y/n?” stubbing the butt of the cigarette, she stood up to open the door. as she laid back, morphia sat on her bed, putting her hand on her sister’s leg. “what’s up with you, little sister?” 

“dr. gaul accepted my application, so i spent the day with her in her office. and you? how is the wedding?” 

“well, i chose the taste of the cake yesterday, then spent the night with my old colleagues, the ones who i don’t invite to my wedding. it’s a shame, i know, but i only want my loved ones on my biggest, happiest day. and today, i spoke with timothé who said that the place by the hills is reserved, so we can have it to yourselves. it’s gonna be truly beautiful, isn’t it?” 

“yes, it truly will be beautiful. do you want a cigarette?” y/n asked, showing her sister the package. morphia took one, y/n took out a new one and lit it for both of them. “are you sure that you love timothé? from what do you know you love him?” 

morphia smiled, blowing out the smoke. it was strawberry flavored, her mother hated it. she only blew those skinny, bad tasting sticks. the only excuse was that sometimes she spiced up with some weed. although y/n didn’t like weed. 

“well, i just know it. you have a strange feeling in your heart.” check. “a feeling you have with no one else, and that you feel like you want to be around him, always.” check. “and you would do anything, and i really mean anything for him, and to be with him.” check. “because this is love. why are you asking this?” 

“i just… i think i love coriolanus, too. the way you love timothé.” 

“so nothing new, little sister.” she giggled, making y/n roll her eyes. she trusted morphia, although her marriage was needed because the family got to guarantee and secure their ten percent income from the district. this way, they could see the papers. the only problem were the plinths, who opposed this, but her father’s hands reached too long to raise a voice against the deal. and y/n wanted sejanus to get out of the picture, and after that, without descendants, they could only hope they will have what they got now until their death. 

“but there is news, morphy. coriolanus invited me on a date.” at her words, morphia covered her mouth, pulling up her eyebrows. holding y/n’s hand, morphia smiled at her. 

“really, y/n? oh my, it’s so wonderful! invite him for the wedding, if you want, but know that he’s an appreciated guest.” 

“i will, if he’ll have the time. but he’s at the games right now in his mind, i don’t want to disturb him.” 

“if he loves you, you’ll always be in his mind, you know. but the deadline is in one month, so please, tell me till then.”

“i will, morphy. i will.” she ended her second cigarette, throwing it into the burgundy ashtray, her sister did the same. 

“do you want to come down? this night is the game’s night, i heard that the tributes got thrown into the zoo.” 

“i know, me and corio will go there tomorrow.” 

“then he surely forgot to mention that… he went there, too.” 

what? rising to sit on her bed, y/n was really, really surprised. 

“how do you mean that?” she asked, trying to believe that her sister just babbled some shit together, but she seemed really certain about what she stated. 

“the tributes got thrown into a cage in the zoo, and your coriolanus was there, too. the interview is gonna be on the telly tonight, might come down and watch with us?” 

going down on the stairs with a buzz in her head, y/n saw that the show was already on. lucretius ‘lucky’ flickerman, a weathercaster who was now tapped to host the interviews from the 10th hunger games stood in front of the cameras. 

“sit down, dear, sit down.” her mother pointed to the place beside her. y/n decided to knee on the pillow where her cat laid, getting persephone into her arms. minutes later, there he was. morphia didn’t joke, he seriously got into that fucking cage? what the fuck? 

“is that your new lover, my sweet?” her father asked y/n, getting a giggle from her sister and her mother. “i can admit that he’s really ambitious about winning the prize.” 

y/n didn’t say anything, listening to what he and lucy gray said. that fucking bitch had the audacity to smile and brag like she was the new star, but she wasn’t. she was just a poor, miserable wanderer who got into the games because she fucked around. how could a… thing like lucy gray hold onto a hand she held this afternoon, too? she wasn’t a princess or a noble or a singer or an actor to have a big mouth like this, to act like this. 

and truly, it seems like she wanted to take away her lover. and it was something y/n could never accept, in any conditions, at any time, or in any situation. never. 

“are you okay, y/n?” her mother asked. “your hand is shaking.” 

brushing her hair, she looked at her mother, trying to nod with composed moves. 

“everything’s fine, mommy. i just need to go upstairs to take a bath, and to take my medicine.” 

and now, she was sitting at her dressing table. it wasn’t just unfair and rule-breaking how lucy gray played, but it was really, really degrading. her face burned in shame, and she wanted to claw down it all with her skin. 

closing her eyes, she prayed for sanity. sanity to go through the next weeks, for sanity to handle situations well, for sanity for her plan. repeat after me, y/n. repeat after me, you stupid bitch.

i am y/n y/l/n, youngest member of the house y/l/n. we are noble, i am noble, and i deserve everything that i have now.

picking up the doll she stepped over only minutes ago, stroking its hair, it was just a plaything. all people were just playthings, playing. how could lucy gray be anything else?

i am beautiful, clever and nobody can ever drag me down. the people who hate me are only envious of my life, my body and my mind, but they’re all going to soil.

looking aside, the fireplace in her room was on. running her thumb through the doll’s porcelain face the last time, she threw it into the fire. long, skinny flames crawled up on the soft fabric of its dress, licking the wall as the fine china cracked. it was time to take a bath.

i love the life i have, and i will appreciate every single second of the life i will have when i achieve my goals. i have every tool i can use to win, and i will use them to be the woman i want to be. it’s not far away, and everyday is a chance to be closer to the woman i want to be.

“hortense, do you think a woman can make a man hers?” she asked from her maid as she sat in the hot water, hortense braid her hair to be curly for tomorrow, fasten it with silk ribbons. 

“i think, miss y/l/n, that women have power. so probably, yes, but please, don’t make yourself hurt. your safety is the first.” hortense answered from behind her back, helping her wash her back. so probably, yes. if even a maid knew that, then why did lucy gray try to stand between her and coriolanus? 

laying in her bed, ready to sleep, she stroked persephone’s fur. 

“how could she do that, persy?” whispering in silence, only getting a meow back, y/n thought about the cage of the snakes dr. gaul showed her today. only a little crack, and everybody could die in unbearable pain, only under mere seconds. maybe she also had to be a cage full of snakes. only a crack on her mind she already had, and everybody could die into what she did. 

maybe she was already. 

a/n: thanks for the waiting babiez, i hope you liked this part too <3 also, wish me luck for my exams 😩

taglist: @champomiel @stelleduarte @diamondsbestie

(ask for taglist in comment, dm or here!!)

[badomensgoodomens]

Can I request for noah. Reader and him are in a friend group and they're always flirty and tactile but won't admit their feelings? I love a slow burn. Will they won't they? 👀😊

Noah Sebastian x Reader (fluff)

-----------------------------------------------------------

Thank you so much for the request!!

slowburns are kind of difficult for me, as i have the attention span of a rock and im a busy gyal.

its not exactly long but im hoping 1.3k words will suffice!!!

i hope this is good enough!!

_______________________________________________

Noah was genuinely one of your closest friend, ontop of the other band members. 

You guys did alot of things together, errands, shopping sprees, markets, arts, crafts and even simple work stuff. That was just the nature of your friendship. 

Joakim and Nicholas caught on during a house party, you had gotten soooo drunk you were dancing on the island, noah had his arms around your knees so you wouldn’t fall. They exchanged glances, and immediately burst out laughing. It was honestly no secret the way he looked at you, but you were occupied with hobbies and interests. 

One particular night you were setting up for a house party, it was the middle of summer. Clad in swimsuits and skanky coverups, you stood on the island, hanging some streamers from the pendant lights. Noah laughs, thinking back to that night. You raise your eyebrow at him, he shakes his head, chuckling. You finish and waddle to the edge of the island. “Help..?” you ask, he laughs, heading over to grab you around your knees to help you down. 

He relishes in the warmth of your tan skin in your bikini, gently patting your shoulder as he sets you down. You stare back up at him, grinning. “Whats that look for?” he asks, crossing his arms. “You're a human elevator.” 

Fast forward maybe a few hours, youre a light weight, thats no secret. Youre a giggling mess as you walk through the house onto the porch. Theres a slight breeze as you sit down on the bench swing, you take in the night sky, the pretty purple undertones stretch over the coastal side, reflecting off the beach. The porch door clicks open, the loud music and strobe lights filtering through the crack in the door. 

“You good?” noah asks, strobe lights reflecting off his forehead. You giggle, nodding. He walks along the creaky wooden porch to sit next to you. “The sky is so beautiful.” you murmur, he hums in agreement, but hes staring at you. You turn to look at him, a soft smile on your face. “Take a picture itll last longer” you grin, he laughs and nudges you. “I’d run out of storage.” he snickers. “That doesn’t even make sense!!!!” you laugh. He chuckles, throwing his arm around you. 

“You wanna play water volleyball?” Matt yells over the fence, you practically jump out of your skin, “u-uh! Yeah sure!” you stammer, standing up and adjusting your bikini. Noah clears his throat awkwardly and walks down the porch stairs to the gate, you in tow. You do the walk of shame through the gate together, folio and nicholas snicker. 

Noah just straight up jumps in the pool, you teeter on the edge. The boys start to play, matts girlfriend even coming to join. You sit on the edge, dipping your feet in. the slight breeze littering goosebumps over my skin. 

“Cmon!! Come play!!” joakim pokes you, splashing you. You yelp as some random party-goer pushes you in from behind. The cold pool water wakes you up, you weren’t THAT comfortable of a swimmer, and this BRAT just ruined our hair. Joakim helps you upright as noah starts yelling at the party goer. Your makeup is running a little bit, your perfect curls now sopping wet. Joakim helps you sit on the edge of the pool, you readjust your bikini and just can’t help but laugh. Noah walks over to you, stupid bitch can actually stand in this fuckass pool because he is soooooo tall. “Are you okay?” he says, resting his hands on your knees. Your heart beats a little faster.  He gently wipes the mascara from under your eyes. Your heart beats dramatically. “U-uhm, i’m okay.” you stammer out,a little freaked out at noahs affectionate nature. “Are you cold?” he asks, running his hands up and down your arms. You nod, a little unsure of what to do. He gently helps you off the ledge and carries you across the pool. You walk to the upstairs bathroom, he wraps you up in a towel, setting you on the edge of the bathtub. You sigh, night totally ruined. 

He gently wipes your running makeup off with some makeup wipes as you pout and shake from the cold. The bathroom door clicks open, Nicholas sticks his head through. “I’m kicking them all out.” he states, before leaving again. “Its not that big of a deal-” you start. Noah cuts you off. “No- i wanted to wrap it up anyways. Im tired. Youre tired. We are all tired.” 

You quickly got changed into a pair of sweatpants, brushing through your wet hair. The house has been cleared out by now, the boys getting to work to clean up all the bottles. Matt’s girlfriend, Heidi, comes into your room. “He was a totalllll dick!” she exclaims, sitting down on your bed. You two gossip. “And noah was soooo cute to come rescue you!!! You should totally go for him.” “i don’t know.. Hes a bit out of my league-” before you can even finish, Folio bursts through the door. “HAH! I knew you liked him!!! You two-” “SSHHSshshshshs” you panic, shutting the door. Folio begins to go on a tangent about allll the reasons he believes you should go for him. Heidi backs him up.

You feel a little cornered as they spout off reasons on why noah likes you, using the incident that occurred before as an example.”he was overreacting!!!!!!!!” you shout. You bicker back and forth until somebody bangs on the door. You unlock the door with a huff, greeted by a confused looking noah. 

“What the fuck are you lot yelling about?” he asks, pushing the door open more. “Doesn’t matter-” “okay… we are gonna watch a movie on the couch, come join, bring blankets.” heidi and folio filter out as you grab a big blanket and a pillow. 

All 7 of us lounge on the big white couch, a random comedy playing on the screen, you lay with your head on a pillow. Youre about five seconds away from falling asleep when you feel noahs big ass fingers combing through your half dry hair. You settle quickly. Off to dream land. 

—----------------------------------------------

You wake up later on, 2am perhaps. The boys are softly chatting. You try to tune in to hear their conversation. 

“Dude- its so obvious just go for it.”

“Nah.. man.. I don’t wanna ruin anything.” 

You fall back asleep.

—-------------------------------------------------------

Everybody wakes up hungover and cranky, a common theme in this household. 

You groan, hiding your face under the blanket from the blinds you forgot to close. “I’m ordering coffee, who wants some?” heidi says, laying on matts chest. 

Noah continues running his hands through your hair, he bends down, whispering. “Can we talk later?” you nod, immediately becoming anxious. 

You anxiously drink your ice coffee, awaiting the conversation. 

About an hour later he comes and gets you, leading you to the porch swing. The sun beams down on your legs as you sit. An ocean breeze filtering throughout the coastal beachside. 

You turn to look at him, he looks… nervous. 

“So i uh…” he clears his throat. 

“Look, if i’m out of line we can just pretend this never happened-”

“Noah.” you cut him off, feeling too anxious to put up with his rambling. 

“Sorry- sorry. I just.. Look. i know we have a pretty flirty friendship- and- and i don’t want to make assumptions but i love you.” 

Time seems to stop, and your jaw completely drops. Your heart beats out of your chest. 

No.

No. surely hes joking. 

He looks panicked, his mouth is moving, i don’t hear anything. My ears are ringing. 

“You love.. Me?” you stammer out.

He nods frantically, still panicked. His hands cup your cheeks. 

“Please. Tell me you love me. Im sick of pretending.” he chokes out, his eyes wide, staring down at you. 

You nod, not able to form words. He hugs you tightly. You almost feel like crying. 

“I love you noah.” 

“I TOLD YOU-!!!!” Folio yells.

__________________________________________________________

if you havent already noticed, i dont do chapter books to avoid burn out!! but im hoping on being able to do this level of writing frequently.

im also trying to write more formally or more detailed as im so used to short, unserious stories.

please keep challenging me with requests!!!!

(i also don't edit lol)

[deceitfuldevout]

Kook for Rent

Dark!Virgin!Topper Thorton x Reader x Dark!Stepbro!Rafe Cameron

Word Count: +1,612

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Bondage, Human trafficking, Mentions of past stepcest, Forced prostitution.

Author's note(s): I've been meaning to finish this off before I deep-dive into studying.

Rafe would consider Topper to be his best friend. So of course, him being the best friend that he is decides to make Topper's dream come true: A chance to fuck his cute stepsister. Rafe is well aware of just how many guys would kill to spend the night with the Kook princess herself. He knows what your market value is and decides to take advantage of the opportunity.

Rafe counts the cash in hand, licking the pad of his thumb before raking through the stack of bills. His dad had cut some of his allowance out for not keeping an eye on Sarah, yet you weren't given the same punishment. It wasn't fair. So, what better idea than to rent you out to his best friend? He smirks at the heavy wad. Topper's family earned well more than his did, one of the few reasons why he tolerates the Kook. That and how he's known him since they were kids. Topper would never turn against him, even if he wanted to.

Rafe knew that Topper was head over heels for you. He's seen the way Topper would glance at you, when he thought no one else was watching. Of course, he wouldn't admit it, he's not the type to cross that boundary unless the feelings were returned. But if given the opportunity, he'd jump your bones. Rafe isn't going to let his friend die a virgin, not if he can help it. As soon as he finishes counting the money he leads his friend down the hallway to where your room was. There you were, bound and gagged to the bedpost.

Rafe made sure you were presentable, after all, Topper is a special guest. This is the first time he's ever ventured into your room. Different pastels and pinks littered the place. A few stuffed animals had been tossed aside in the struggle. Your hair had been messy during the fight. Rafe made sure to dress you in that one slip on that would drive any man crazy. For a moment, Topper couldn't believe it. He'd finally have a chance with the Kook queen herself. Who wouldn't want this? You were everything he's ever dreamed of. Valedictorian, top of their class, hell, you were even prom queen, yet here you were, presented just for him.

Before he could approach any further, Rafe places a hand on Topper's shoulder, "Listen, man, there's a reason why I chose you, I don't want anyone else doing this," He looks his friend dead in the eyes, "It's her first time too y'know?" Rafe eases his friend into it. Topper raises his brows at that statement, his pupils are blown as he looks your way. When would he ever get another chance like this? Both of them are sat on either side of the bed.

You glare at the two men with weary eyes, mascara now running down both cheeks. Each time one of them would approach, a swift kick would be sent their way. Topper had to dodge a few times until Rafe finally took charge. His hands immediately wrapping around your neck and squeezing as hard as he could. He doesn't stop, even when your face starts to change color.

Topper tries pleading with with him, "C'mon man! She can't breathe!" worried that his friend may have taken it too far. Rafe doesn't let go despite Topper's pleas until you almost pass out. When he releases his grip, an angry mark is left behind. You try to catch your breath despite the lack of air. It became clear that the gag wasn't helping one bit. Topper felt weary of the circumstances of how you ended up like this.

Rafe glares at his best friend, "Yeah, but you're still here," he knows how to read people, what makes them bend to his will, "You know she used to have a mouth on her?" he chuckles, "Fixed that shit up," Rafe grabs a leg while you're still drowsy and ties it at the end of the bed frame. He repeats this action for the other leg before laying at your side, "Sometimes you've gotta slap a bitch around, or else they'll feel like they're in charge," pointing a taunting finger in your face, "Remember this, I own your ass, you so much as take another breath, it's because I allowed it," He then raises both hands in the air, nodding for his friend to proceed, "Go on, she won't do that again," he smiles triumphantly.

For a moment, Topper is hesitant. Should he really be doing this? Rafe rolls his eyes, "There's a reason why I chose you, Top," Rafe needed to have Topper trust him, "I could've let Barry fuck her first, but I chose you," Rafe drags down the waistband of your panties, "All this, just for you," revealing the jewel plug to his friend. Topped let out an audible groan at the sight of it. He could feel the strain of his cock swelling under his shorts. Rafe parts your legs for a better angle. His hands grip at each cheek, parting your folds to give Topper a good view. Rafe made sure to lube up that pretty cunt of yours, he left the plug inside your ass in case Topper wanted to pay extra.

Topper juts his hips, he groans at the friction. He rubs his tip in between both breasts. A small trail of precum already leaking through, "F-fuck...she feels so soft..." Rafe made sure you'd use the extra soft lotion, the sparkly kind. Of course, it'd make Topper go crazy, what guy wouldn't? Glitter tits? Is that not every man's dream? He jerks himself off, using your tits for the extra friction. He toyed and played with both breasts until they peaked. His brows furrow, indicating that he was close, "Fuck man...she looks so pretty like this..." In a few seconds he'd already came in heavy waves, choking out a heavy groan before emptying a load. His cheeks were now a vibrant hue from the first round. His eyelids fluttering shut as he spread his seed against your bare chest.

Topper parts from you for a moment to catch his breath. He admires the view below him. More specifically that doe-eyed look on your face. He pokes out his tongue to lick his lips. Rafe drags the chair from your vanity closer to the bed, he plops his feet on your bedside. He lets Topper take charge for now. So far, his best friend was learning fast. Topper wipes at your tears, cooing a string of apologies, "Shh...sh... you're okay..." he swipes a stray tear with the back of his thumb gently. Rafe rolls his eyes at the sentimental act, "Jeez, Top, you're too soft on the slut," He clicks his tongue, alerting his friend to turn around.

Rafe then tilts his head to the bottle of lube and condom placed on the nightstand, "The bitch is already worked up, all you gotta do is fuck her now," as soon as those words hit your ears another muffled scream escapes. You thrash violently against the bindings, ignoring the searing pain of rope being dug into raw skin. Rafe lept from his seat, "Hey, hey, enough of that," he scolds, "I'm protecting you, what do you not understand? It's either Topper or Barry and we both know which one you'd prefer," as if you had a say in any of this. You glare back at the two men, giving them a death stare. It doesn't faze the Cameron heir, not one bit, "Stop being such a fucking baby," Rafe knew you could take much more, so why was Topper being such a fucking softie?

Topper shrugs of his friend, tuning him out as he wrapped himself up. He coats the condom with a light about of gel before rubbing it against your bare folds. He' g's been waiting for this for a long, long time. He presses his tip against the opening, grunting at the sensation, "Fuck...she's really warm," Topper's never felt this good in his life. He starts off at a slow pace, his eyes are mesmerized by the sight of his cock sinking deep into your channel. He carefully pumps his shaft, reveling in the feeling of a warm cunt squeezing him.

Topper groans, "Fuck....I'm really your first huh?" slowly but gently, picking up pace. He was much different than Rafe, gentler. What Thorton hadn't known, was that the Cameron boy had beaten him to it. After catching you sneaking out, Rafe decided that the best form of punishment was to pop your cherry. He hadn't told Topper this. Instead, he wanted to build that level of trust. Even if that meant putting you on the line.

Rafe knew Topper hadn't been with any other girl before. Of course, he wouldn't know the difference. You moan into your gag, eyelids fluttering shut as you fought the approaching orgasm. Rafe licks his lips at the sight of it. His best friend fucking his step-sister shouldn't turn him on this much. But something about it seemed so fucking hot. Shit, maybe he could sell the footage. Make it into an amateur porn. He's been tight on cash recently, might as well put you to good use. But no, he already had enough blackmail to keep you in line. He knows there's no coming back from this. He's already ruined you for any other man. Rafe owns your cunt and ass. He spent weeks making sure to train you well. You were a fighter, yes, but he's much, much stronger.

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: you hadn't been sure what to feel after demanding Ajay bring the others. bring everyone. it'd been reckless, stupid. Wally you had figured had been fine, perhaps even Ajay too, but everyone? it had either been the dumbest thing you'd ever done or the smartest. thankfully, you'd learned enough about the others to know what topics to avoid and which to use to your advantage...

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.22

You sat in the dining room, the French doors closed for privacy. Your family was in various positions around you as they helped you study the pile of file folders your mother had exhumed from the enormous wooden chest in the basement.

The dining room itself was large yet cozy, eclectic, lived in; it was where your mother brought her clients for readings and spiritual counsel. A round table took up the middle of the room; a tea tray and plates of finger foods were placed in the center where a hokey crystal ball normally sat. Shelves along the back wall were stuffed with books from the Barnes & Noble witchcraft section, boasting titles like, "A Witch's Guide to Garden Magick," and, "Spells & Incantations for a Better Life."

The plum-colored ceiling was decorated in constellations that Andrew had painted the week before your mother began marketing herself, and the wood floor was covered in a layer of Persian rugs thrown here and there that had absorbed the heavy musk of the incense your mother burned during sessions.

It was a beautiful room, to be sure, and you hated every inch of it. All the frivolous bits and bobs that encouraged people to believe a lie mocking you from their perches. Portraits of people who meant nothing to your family; taxidermized crows and owls and foxes. A mounted stag's head, because why not? It added to the rustic, sorcerous atmosphere.

"What about Rhonda Botezatu?" Ginny inquired around the stem of her cigarette holder. She was done up in a silk kimono, purple hair peeking out from beneath a bronze turban. An homage to Old Hollywood starlets who'd aged into roles they'd rather die than assume. Her thin fingers and wrists were bedazzled with chunky costume jewelry, but her neck remained bare. Apart, of course, from the delicate silver pendant she rarely removed.

You couldn't help smiling at her. She was absolutely marvelous.

"Rhonda..." You began, trying not to peer down at the notes. "Died April 1964. Murdered by Alfons Manfredo, the guidance counselor. She was really into Beatnik Culture and was going to study Engineering at UC Berkeley." You wilted, looking down at the yearbook photo paperclipped to Rhonda Botezatu's dossier. Rhonda stared up at you, the hint of a smile on her lips, clever eyes bright beneath layers of eyeliner and mascara. Your heart lurched.

"I used to watch her and her younger sister, Daria, when she was a child. Her parents were neighbors." Ginny divulged, using her cigarette holder to point out the window as if to indicate the exact house. "Her older sister, Yetta, was a pain. Refused to babysit; too busy husband-hunting, but Rhonda was a hoot. Questioned everything." Ginny chuckled, rolling her eyes, "Pecked at me all day, asking this and that. Couldn't shut her up unless I put on a record and let her dance out all that energy." Her eyes went distant, a fond expression settling into her features. "Precocious. Would've changed the world if she'd been given the chance."

Your mother huffed, hovering over you as she rifled through the mound of documentation. "You skipped Janet Hamilton."

"Ooh, that idiot," Ginny slumped forward dramatically, an impression of being utterly disgusted by something. Your mother cleared her throat with intention, eyes narrowed in distaste. Ginny sighed and rolled her hand regally in your direction, "Alright, chicken, tell us what you know about her."

You stifled a giggle into the back of your hand, sharing a fond look with Andrew at Ginny's antics. "Okay, Janet. She died in 1960, but...I didn't see how...did I miss that?" You asked, scanning the sheet of paper you'd pulled from the dossier.

"No, sweetheart," Nanna assured, "There's no record of it that I ever found. Of course, by the time I started gathering information, a lot of time had passed." You could tell she was trying very hard to search her memory. Unfortunately, however, it seemed she kept finding only blank spaces.

"It was an accident of some sort," Ginny piped up. "Broke her neck somehow. Falling down the stairs, I think."

Nanna frowned, shaking her head at herself, "I vaguely recall some mention of it...honestly, you'd think I'd remember." The laugh that bubbled out of her was strained, tinged with disbelief. "She was my math tutor." A glance at Ginny to confirm, "I could've sworn it happened right before I started middle school."

"Don't look at me," Ginny scoffed, "Maybe you should scribble it down before you forget to again." She looked at Andrew, roping him into the joke, "You need to get your mother checked out, Drew, before she starts forgetting your birthday."

Positioning her reading glasses just above the tip of her nose, Nanna plucked the paper from your hand, adding, in beautiful cursive, a note about Janet's death. "You did forget his birthday last year..."

Ginny took a quick sip of her sherry, rushing to defend, "Oh pish, I did not. I told you, the gift was delayed." And then, as a side note, "Poor Reggie really is losing his mind," though she didn't sound worried about her old friend cum antique dealer. Rather, it was a pitying statement of fact, said in the manner most elderly people use when discussing each other's senility. She put her sifter down and whipped a taunting stare at Nanna, "You know, Babbigail, had either of you listened when I suggested you try the Sudoku, you wouldn't be losing your marbles quite so early."

"Oh, baldercrap," Nanna retaliated, "I'm just as sharp as I've always been!" She narrowed her eyes, mock-accusing, and presented to the room, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were cheating."

"Cheating?"

"I wouldn't put it past you to use spells all willy-nilly for your benefit."

Nanna winked at you when Ginny scoffed, outraged, straightening her spine and puffing out her chest, "Oh, how very dare you! My own sister!? Implying I would ever turn my back on the Circle!" She lifted the back of her bejeweled wrist to her brow, "Judas!"

You and Andrew dissolved into fits of laughter at the theatrics. Ginny and Nanna bickered often, always making a show of it for everyone's entertainment. It was one of many reasons that you were glad you were all under the same roof, even when it got crowded sometimes.

Behind you, your mother wasn't as amused by the performance, scoffing as she patted your head, reminding you to, "Focus, sweetheart, you only have two days to memorize all of this." She flashed an annoyed look between Nanna and Ginny, "If you two are finished, maybe we could get back to it?"

Ginny sagged sideways against the back of the chaise longue, waving dismissively with her cigarette holder, "No need to get worked up, Alice. The girl has plenty of time to sort all this out." Still, she gestured for you to move on to the next student.

Bernadette King, died in 1969 after tragically falling from a height in the old gymnasium. Then Dawn Burton, died in 1972 by accidental electrocution. Next was Yuri Vyarheychyk, a transplanted Belarussian boy who'd somehow fallen head-first into a kiln during a pottery lesson in 1978, succumbing to severe burns before the ambulance had arrived.

"Are you guys sure I should go there?" You asked, face twisted in concern as you absorbed the seemingly endless pile of information on the table, evidence that too many awful things had transpired at Split River High before now. "It sounds kinda dangerous."

"You'll be just fine," Ginny said, "You're too important. The Awen won't let anything happen to you." It sounded like something a great-aunt was obligated to say, those reassurances that you were the 'most specialist of special children.' In a world where you'd witnessed something profoundly horrific take someone you'd considered more special than yourself, your great-aunt's statement was of little comfort.

Nanna reached across the table and petted your hand affectionately, tacking on, "You have nothing to worry about. We've all attended and we're just fine. Your sister actually really enjoyed herself."

You gave her a tight smile, "If you say so," then accepted the next dossier Andrew pulled out of the pile.

"We're getting into the 80s, now." He informed, eyes twinkling as he stared over your head at your mother. "Starting with the totally hunky football star—"

"Don't start," Your mother warned. You could feel the look on her face, something eye-twitchy and vexed.

Andrew snickered, rising to the challenge, and tapped his finger on the photo clipped to the front of the folder. It drew your attention down to a face that—your breath caught, an unusual warmth blossoming within you as you took in the young man grinning up at you from the photo. The print in the top right corner said his name was 'Walker Clark'. He was...hot. Like center-of-the-sun hot. Soulful, brown eyes, kissable lips, hair swept back in a perfect 80s poof.

Andrew whistled, long and punctuating, forcing a blush to rise on the arches of your cheeks. "I think girly's got a crush," He ruffled your hair obnoxiously, "Aurora had the same reaction when we put her through the paces. 'He's so hot, oh my god,'" He mimicked in a high falsetto, "'If I could see ghosts, I'd literally ask him out, I don't care.'"

"Rory had to do this too?" You wondered, eyes never wavering from Wally's handsome face.

"Of course she did, chicken. Everyone has to. Even your grandmother had to and she can't see ghosts." Ginny explained.

"But why? If Nanna and Rory can't see ghosts, what does it matter?"

Nanna smiled sweetly at you, "Understand, dear, abilities don't always manifest fully at an early age like yours did. Before Aurora entered high school, her empathy was very subtle. Then, in her junior year, out of the blue, she could identify each ghost without batting an eye. If the Ciorcal of the Craft allowed it, I bet she would've had whole conversations with them without needing to see or hear them."

You knew Aurora's empathy was acute, how she could wield it like a weapon or a gift depending on her mood. You'd never tell her, but you found it pretty remarkable. Almost envied her for it. Your life would be much easier if you couldn't see the dead.

"That's why we do this, chicken. It's a contingency, just in case our powers manifest late or they mature faster than we have time to do something about it." Ginny elaborated and it made sense. Similar to Aurora and Nana, Andrew hadn't had any indication that he would develop Connectedness until much later, but now he gleaned incredible things from objects on command.

You didn't realize you'd been staring at Wally's photo the whole time, not once looking up to acknowledge those around you, until Nanna leaned over and voiced, "He was very handsome, wasn't he," obviously having been observing your predicament, "And so respectful. His mother and I were in a book club together with some of the other moms from the school." Suddenly, her tone shifted, turning solemn, "Bea was hard on him, though. Drove him to be the best." She sighed, "I really felt for him."

You listened with half an ear, more interested in pondering what Wally had felt about the pressure his mother supposedly put on him. Had he been equally as motivated? Or had he buckled under the weight of expectation? A tiny sliver of your soul yearned to have the chance to ask him, ignoring for the moment the Rule that your whole family lived by.

"Come on, sweetheart," Your mother's voice interrupted your thoughts, "we have a lot to go through and 2004 is going to be tricky." She flipped open Wally's folder, thus forcefully removing his face from your line of sight, doing for you what you hadn't been able to do for yourself. You exhaled a shivery breath, swallowing thickly as you accepted the first of three typewriter-typed pages. Your mother pointed to the third line of the second paragraph, "Alright, let's start here..."

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Ajay had smuggled you into the school and up to the roof, managing to keep you from being caught. There had been one close call when Barry had treaded around a corner, flashlight up, demanding to know if anyone was there when your sneaker had squeaked against the linoleum. You'd watched in fascination as Ajay had manipulated his ghostliness to his advantage. He'd marched right up to Barry who, as a living person, had been unconsciously driven to avoid the invisible obstacle, his brain having fed him some rationalization or excuse that had sent him on his way. Piece of cake.

Presently, you stood near the roof's edge, fidgeting nervously as Ajay helped two people over the raised side of the portal, one after the other. You gulped, your heart beating faster and your palms clammy as you took in who they were. Rhonda Botezatu and Charley Morino. Fuck...shit... Instantly, you regretted telling Ajay to bring everyone. God, could you get more stupid!? This was such a bad idea, your mother's voice reverberating inside your skull threats of squalls and storms and ill-fated summonings. Despite the desire to stand your ground and do this for Simon, your soul trembled in despair, unable to shake the feeling of failure after years and years of being told not to let them know you can see.

You squirmed under Rhonda and Charley's attention, your eyes flicking up to their faces and then back down to your shoes as your nerves began to fray. God, Simon, you fretted, I hope it's worth it. 'It' being all the possible repercussions you could face should anyone discover what you'd done. And the more who knew what you could do, the more it was likely that someone would find out.

As you contemplated your friend, a shadow flickered over Rhonda's shoulder. A there-and-gone impression of movement that had wobbled like hot air rising from a desert road. You squeezed your eyes shut and opened them again, seeing nothing to indicate what you'd witnessed had ever occurred.

"Isn't that the chick Wally was hung up on a couple of years ago?" You heard Rhonda ask Charley as they approached. Strangely, they moved as if they intended to make room for someone else between them, but, as you checked on Ajay's progress at the portal, you didn't see anyone else emerge.

"I'm not sure..." Charley answered her, openly studying you through slitted eyes; suspicious, cautious, clearly unsure what he thought about you. Still, he emanated a warmer, more welcoming aura than Rhonda who was all attitude and cool eyes. "If it is, we owe him a massive apology."

Rhonda didn't seem to agree, "She'd better make it up to him. Took him forever to stop sulking."

You were both pleased that Wally's friends had his back and cowed at the reminder that you'd basically gaslighted him in sophomore year, and Rhonda seemed keen to hold that against you. Surreptitiously, you kept peeking behind Rhonda and Charley, willing the universe to be kind and deliver Wally's fortifying presence to you. With him beside you, you felt you could handle Rhonda's cutting remarks and Charley's weighted stare.

As if on cue, the connection began to rumble and roll inside you, rising with more interest as you felt Wally get closer, and your heart started to pound for an entirely different reason.

"So," Rhonda started as she stopped two feet in front of you, arms crossed and expression tightly controlled, "You can see us."

You didn't know what else to say apart from, "Yep," wincing as it fell out of your mouth.

Rhonda's glare turned lethal, "And you didn't think that maybe you should try and help us?"

"I—"

"Oh, no, wait, that's right, you decided to help Ajay and leave the rest of us to rot, is that it?"

Charley reached out and touched her arm, sending her an expression of warning before returning his attention to you. "I am curious about why you decided now was a good time for a big reveal?" He asked in a roundabout way, tone sprinkled lightly with denigration.

That, at least, was a simple answer. "Simon's in trouble and I want to help get him out of it."

"Right," Charley looked at Rhonda, briefly seeming to cast behind her, then looked back at you, "The o t h e r living person who can see ghosts. Are you guys part of the same coven or...?"

As sarcastic as he sounded, you sensed his genuine interest and decided to expand on—wait, "Simon can what?"

Ajay's words from earlier flew out of the ether and into your head: "Everyone just got over Charley keeping Simon a secret." Well, fuck me sideways. At the time, you'd been too distracted by the fact that Ajay knew about you and Wally. Then that, of course, had been eclipsed by Ajay's purported friendship with Aurora that she'd never bothered to disclose. With all those thoughts vying for attention, your brain had swiftly filled in the blanks about Charley and Simon with something that made enough sense to keep you from poking at it. Charley, you'd guessed, had kept Simon a secret like most teenagers keep their crush a secret from their friend group. To avoid getting teased.

Thinking about it now, you realized that was the second-most idiotic thing you'd ever come up with after encouraging Ajay to give you an audience with a bunch of ghosts you were supposed to avoid like the plague.

"Are. you. fucking. k i d d i n g. me!?" You dropped into a crouch, top half folded over your knees as you dug your fingers into the back of your head, wholly and utterly defeated by the endless siege of fuckery that had been unleashed since last Friday.

"We'll take that as a 'no'," Rhonda remarked, sounding as though she was checking her cuticles. "So, what are you? A necromancer or something?"

"No," You said miserably into your knees. You rose, rubbing your temples as you tried to process everything while simultaneously explaining, "And I'm not a witch, either, so you can forget about that coven bullshit."

You were getting riled up, angry, confused; Simon could see ghosts, too? Seriously? That could have made the conversation you and he had had on the swings a helluva lot easier, dammit. But, nooo, he'd kept that to himself. And, honestly, fuck Aurora, too, because you'd spent the last three years of your life on edge and constantly alert when you could've, maybe, given fewer shits?!

Another odd, shadowy flicker distorted the air almost directly in front of you but you ignored it, your frustration gaining momentum because, fine, yeah, you hadn't said anything to Simon either, but what the fuck anyway—!

Just as you were about to scream into the void, a warm, calming sensation swept over you, the familiar scent of Wally's cologne and the pomade he used in his hair curling under your nose like a cartoon wafteron. You tilted your head up, eyes immediately locking on his, and the tension seeped out of your muscles. Wally's steps were measured, his jaw tight, shoulders squared as if he was fighting to control himself from jumping on you.

Right. Ajay had insisted that you and Wally act as if you'd never interacted. Earlier, it'd been easy to agree, the connection subtle and at ease; now, you weren't so sure. The syrupy-slick sensation lulled you into a dreamlike fog, transfixed by Wally's closeness. You watched Wally's throat bob when he swallowed, eyes drifting to his lips before slowly tracking back up to meet his heavy-lidded gaze.

"Hi..." You said, voice catching as Wally neared.

The others observed with assorted expressions of confusion and intrigue, Rhonda asking, "Whaaat the hell is happening?" to which Charley replied, "I have no idea..."

Ajay explained on your behalf, tone entirely put-upon, "It's the cRaZiEsT tHiNg. I noticed it before. Like they have some kind of mYsTeRiOuS cOnNeCtiOn drawing them together..." Glimpsing at him, you saw Ajay's features had flattened, his demeanor projecting exactly how done with everything he was, yet you couldn't find it within yourself to care. Wally was right there, gazing at you with soft eyes and a lopsided smile.

The flicker appeared again, though, unlike before, an almost physical energy came with it, arcing outward from its source into your front, forcing you back a step. A look of alarm spooked Wally's face. He lurched forward a step, simultaneously bringing his hand up as if to place it on something.

What happened next happened so quickly that you almost didn't catch it. As soon as Wally's hand made contact, a featureless silhouette popped into existence. You couldn't make out who they were, could hardly register anything as you stumbled backward another step in surprise, the back of your leg hitting the low ledge that lined the roof. From there, gravity took over, pulling you down as you teetered precariously over the wrong side of the ledge. Everyone reacted at once, Rhonda and Charley reaching out, Ajay yelling and grabbing the silhouette, and Wally—

"No!" Wally shouted as he leapt forward, grabbed you by the front of your sweater, and hauled you tightly against him before you plummeted several meters down onto the concrete below. He whirled around, planting himself between you and the ledge, his nose in your hair, heart hammering under your palm, panting from the adrenaline rush. His embrace was viselike, keeping you together as a jolt of fear shot through you.

"Are you okay?" He asked, eyes the size of saucers as he cradled your face in his big hands.

You peeked helplessly up at him, a lump in your throat and pressure behind your eyes, Jesus Christ, you'd almost joined them in the afterlife...but that wasn't the thought that blared in your head like an air raid siren.

"Do it again." You commanded, breathless, gripping Wally's arms and encouraging him to turn around. "Touch whatever you just touched again."

He blinked at you, dumbfounded, obviously not understanding what the hell you were on about.

"Whatever you just did," You instructed, "do it again," placing your hand on his shoulder to show him what you meant. Although he continued to stare at you like you'd grown a second head, he released you and moved back. You marveled as he stepped forward a few feet, picked his hand up, and then placed it down seemingly in midair. Except it wasn't midair. It was a shoulder that became visible under the weight of Wally's hand.

He shot you a peculiar expression, eyebrows drawn in doubt, "Uh...like this?" And then he stepped aside.

You gasped, going very, very still as your mouth fell open and your eyes bulged, a single, quivering utterance tumbling out of you. "Holy shit."

Everyone, including Wally, watched you in wonder, completely oblivious to the miracle that had just occurred. Everyone including—

"Maddie!?"

💀___________________________

PART TWENTY-ONE - PART TWENTY-THREE

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[cxtori]

Kaveh ✮ Bad Days

summary: basically you’ve had a really rough week and Kaveh decides to help you do your hair when you get upset with it :)

genre: fluff established relationship, good ole’ feminine hair rage, hurt/comfort, Kaveh is really good at doing hair I just know he is

warnings: n/a

WC: 1.3k

song: here with me by d4vd

tori’s note: OMG a genshin fic, lookie! And HELLO! I’m alive. I’m finally getting used to my new job and routine so I’m finding more time to spend on my hobbies, which means I’m finding more time to write :) hoping to be posting more stuff soon! <3

It had been a hard day. A Hard week actually.

First, the art piece you had worked so hard on was rejected by the art exhibit you submitted it to. Then the market was out of all of the key ingredients you needed when you planned to make Kaveh some Fatteh. And then one of the art gallery’s regulars yelled at you because her piece wasn’t in the spot she felt it deserved. Plus all of the other little inconveniences that occurred throughout the week that pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

You were already exhausted, annoyed and frustrated. And now, here you were, sitting at your vanity trying to get your hair fixed and looking pretty while on the verge of tears.

It’s a style you’ve done a million times over. There’s no reason for it to be this complicated. And yet, your hair is refusing to cooperate, your strands now tangled in a hair barrette.

You let out a loud, frustrated groan. At this point, you don’t care if it’s not the best it’s ever been, you just want it to look presentable. But it seems like the harder you try the worse it gets.

Kaveh is supposed to be here at any moment to pick you up for your date and your hair is nowhere near ready. And now the tears welling in your eyes threaten to ruin your makeup as well.

You take a deep breath and try to calm your annoyed thoughts before making another attempt to untangle your hair wrapped around the intricate hair piece, its sparkling green gem reflecting in the mirror as though to mock you.

You’re making fine progress, until you drop the barrette and your hair seems to wrap around it like a magnet. You pick it back up and manage to tug a little too hard on a strand or two, causing a sharp pain in your scalp and an involuntary gasp to escape your lips. And that did it.

You let out an exasperated groan and the tears you’d done so well to hold back drop down your cheeks, dragging dark mascara with it. Great, now your hair is a mess AND so is your makeup.

You pick up the hair piece again, heavily considering whether it would truly be a bad idea to just cut it out.

Before you can convince yourself you’d look good with shorter hair, Kaveh knocks on your door and enters the room.

“Y/n, there you are, darling. I thought you’d be down-” He cuts himself off when he catches a glimpse of your mascara-streaked face in your mirror. “Y/n?”

You turn around to face him, tears now streaming freely down your face as you’ve completely given up on trying to hold them in. You’ve reached your breaking point, though you must admit, you’re surprised it took this long.

“Wh-why are you crying?” Kaveh asks, panic rushing through him at the sight of your current state. His eyes widen slightly and he straightens, placing his hands on his hips. “Was it Ms. Oshi again? I swear, her work isn’t good enough to be putting up a fuss the way she does.”

“No… I mean she did come in again this week, but that’s not why I’m crying,” you say, your words barely comprehensible through your quiet sobs and sniffles.

Kaveh’s arms drop and his expression softens. “What is it then, darling?”

“I can’t get my hair right!” You cry. He looks up at your head, only now noticing the tangled barrett resting chaotically in your strands. “And now my makeup is a mess,” you mutter, turning your gaze back to your reflection.

You miss the soft smile on Kaveh’s lips as he makes his way over to you and rests his hands on your shoulders, gently guiding you to sit up straight.

“Let me help.” You don’t resist when his hands begin working on your hair, carefully pulling it from the metal piece. His nimble fingers make quick work and before long, he’s pulling the barrett from your hair, no scissors needed.

He moves his hand around you to place it in your lap before picking up the hair brush on your vanity. As he straightens out your knotted hair, you begin fixing your makeup, doing your best to not smudge the streaked mascara further on your face.

You finish your makeup at the same time he gets your hair untangled, but when you move to start working on your hair yourself, Kaveh pushes your hands away, a humming quiet “hmm mm”. You, once again, don’t argue and sit back in your chair as he continues his braiding.

Your gaze drops down to the barrett in your lap and you pick up the cool piece of metal. Your fingers trace over the delicate, golden vines and leaves, the stems growing tighter together as they meet in the center where they wrap around a grassy-green crystal surrounded by tiny, crimson red gems.

“Do you remember when I got you that hair piece?” Kaveh asks quietly, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“You mean when you were nervously fumbling with the jewelry box and nearly dumped it into the river? I remember,” you giggle, the image bright and vivid in your memory.

“Ahh, well… yes, but not that part,” he says and you look at his face in the mirror just soon enough to catch the flash of embarrassment on his face. “Do you remember why I’d given it to you.”

You think back on the moment, but no answer comes to mind. You had been together for around 6 months at the time, and aside from that milestone, nothing of significance comes up. You shake your head, careful to do it lightly enough as to not mess up your boyfriends progress. Kaveh gives a light chuckle.

“You had been having an absolutely horrendous week. ‘Worst days of your life’ is what you’d told me.” Your eyebrows furrow as you try to dig up the memories, but you get nothing.

“Granted, I think you were overexagerrating a bit,” he says quickly before continuing. “But still, you were quite upset. I thought the gift would cheer you up. And it did, though maybe not in the way I’d intended.” You laugh again at the image of him almost dropping his newly purchased gift off the bridge into the rushing water below you and the heavy sigh of relief he gave as he clutched the box in his hands like his life depended on it.

He reaches around you to gently take the barrett from your hands, his fingers lingering on yours a few moments longer than necessary.

“All of that to say, this moment will pass. You’ll move on and forget about all of the bad things that happened this week. Well, maybe except Ms. Oshi yelling at you. Her voice forever haunts me,” he jokes and you giggle. He never fails to make you laugh, even if it’s not his intention.

“But something you will never forget are these moments,” he says as he clips the barrett into place. He brushes your hair over to the side and places a light kiss on your exposed shoulder.

“I love you, darling. On your best and on your worst days.” His whispers against your skin give you goosebumps and you turn your head to face him, his amber-red eyes meeting yours.

He takes your hands and guides you to stand up, his hands moving to your wast as soon as your vertical.

“I love you too. Thank you,” you say, leaning close to him so your whispers fall on his lips. He wastes no more time to press his mouth to yours, the scent of clay and sandalwood flooding your senses.

Every unsaid word is conveyed perfectly as he pulls you closer to him and deepens the kiss. You let out a soft laugh when he nibbles your lip, knowing it’ll get a reaction out of you. You pull apart, your quiet pants filling the space between you as you hold each other close.

“My love,” Kaveh says, stroking a thumb tenderly over your cheek. He gives a happy hum as he pulls away, his hand dropping down to yours to grasp it tightly. “We should get going, don’t want the tavern to be too crowded now.”

©Cxtori 2024 please do not copy, plagiarize, repost or translate. reblogs appreciated

[magics-neptunes-things]

The One Who Get Away

Hi guys!

This one come just from my imagination, I can't stop listening this cover of Katy Perry's song so... Here it is! Hope you'll like it :)

I put the version of the song I'm talking about under this text, please listen to it while listening :)

TW : Break up, angst, pressure.

Summary : Your a singer travelling the world with your group but the distance is too hard for you and your (ex) girlfriend. Will you find a way to make her stay?

PART 2 IS HERE

______________________________________________________________

"I just can't do that anymore"

Ona's voice, coming from your phone make your heart go heavier. You know how she feels about you always being away from your shared penthouse at Barcelona. Well actually you are away from Spain, and today even from Europe.

It’s been three years since your record company managed to place a Spanish band in the international market. Yours. So, now that it’s launched and that it’s been months that you are at the top of the charts, no one hesitates to make you travel to all the countries of the world, without stopping.

It’s been three years since you and your band arrived here by chance, when one of your single ended up on a summer hit. Since then, it has never stopped. In three years you have released two albums and you have made three world tours. You’re exhausted, physically and emotionally. But you made the mistake of not reading carefully the clauses of your contract, too happy to be able to live your dream.

Well, the dream slowly turned into a nightmare. Away from Ona for months now, you were supposed to return to Barcelona in two days to finally have a few weeks of rest. Except that your agent found it more interesting to impose televisions and various promotions in Japan, preventing you from returning from England where you currently are to Ona.

Yet, it was what you expected the most since the day you left her at the airport.

"I’m sorry" you whisper, feeling your throat squeeze. "I can always…"

"No, Y/N. I can’t stand it anymore. I can’t. There are no more ways out"

"What do you mean?"

You know what she means and you’ve been terrified of hearing that sentence for weeks. You’ve known Ona since you were a teenager, one night when you felt lonely and couldn’t sleep, you came across her blog. You don’t know what prompted you to write a comment to which she replied and you started chatting like that. Realizing that you were both from Barcelona, you met and the rest is history.

"I think we need to break up"

"No! Ona please we can work through this. Please. I need you, I can't lose you."

"It's better this way. I'm so sorry"

You don’t think you heard Ona’s voice shake in this way before and you are convinced that she is crying, too.

"Onita please… don’t do this"

"I’m sorry. I have no choice"

"Why? Did you… Did you met someone else?"

Ona has a sad laugh and you can perfectly picture her shaking her head sadly.

"Of course not. It has nothing to do with that. But it’s getting worse every time. It’s been going on for three years."

"It’s not my fault" you whisper softly.

"I know"

A new silence sets in and you hope that your girlfriend is thinking and changing her mind. You know you wouldn’t stand a breakup with her. Ona has been your lighthouse in the dark forever. She’s the most important person in your life.

"I have to go, the team is waiting for me. I think it’s better if we don’t write or call each other for a while."

"Ona wait…"

"No, Y/N. It’s over"

"I love you"

Ona doesn’t answer you, but the breath you hear on the phone confirms that she’s crying. She hangs up after a few seconds and you remain motionless for long minutes, stunned. You are dress for your next performance, your presence on stage being required in about twenty minutes. Fortunately your mascara is waterproof and it’s not necessary to redo it when your friend and guitarist enters the room.

"Y/N?"

"Ona just broke up with me" you say, looking at him through the mirror.

And with that, the sobs that were until now stuck in your throat suddenly come out. In a few seconds you find yourself transformed into a crying mess, hugged by Juan. He’s your best friend, even if your fans imagine you together. The record company has forbidden you to reveal your homosexuality and has fun supporting the rumors of romance between you two, claiming that it helps the group’s popularity.

"I’m so tired. I just want to go home" you manage to say in between sobs.

Said house being mostly Ona. Making a grimace, Juan caresses your hair. You are not the only one to be exhausted by the frantic pace imposed by your record company. Juan, your drummer Marco and your bass player Ricardo are just as exhausted as you.

"I know" is all he can tell you before someone of the staff come looking for you.

Your manager looks at you coldly seeing the state in which you are and hands you a tissue for you to arrange the draws. He doesn’t ask you what’s going on. He doesn’t care. You just know that if you don’t perform properly, you’re going to get yelled at.

******

"Are you sure you want to watch this? We can switch channels if you want" Cata kindly assures while looking carefully at Ona.

The brunette shakes her head negatively, stuck against Alexia who passed a protective arm around her. Ona was unable to hide your breakup from her teammates, she’s just as devastated as you are. They had planned an evening to watch the charity concert that you and your group are attending, installed in Lucy’s apartment.

After exchanging a look between them, they finally decided to leave the same channel, the artists walking one after the other. Since this is a charity concert, you had the opportunity to cover a song by one of the featured artists. Your group choose a song by Katy Perry, "The One who get away", a slower version than the original. If you had known, you would have made another choice.

After avoiding a nervous breakdown, you go sit on the stool in the middle of the stage. Juan at your side, you wait for his guitar to be tuned.

"She doesn’t look like she’s ok" Aitana begins, before being immediately shuts up when she meets Mapi’s murderous gaze.

Feeling Ona tense against her, Alexia gently tightens her against her as Ingrid starts to stroke her hair. At the same time, the song starts and you wonder how you are going to finish it. Your hands are shaking, your throat is clenched and you have trouble looking up at the crowd in front of you.

From the end of the first chorus, you have tears in your eyes and at the end of the second you feel a tear roll on your cheek. Despite Juan’s whispers of encouragement, you’re unable to hold her any longer. When the song finally comes to an end, you have the impression that every person who has looked at you has been able to read into you and realize how destroyed you are. And you hate it.

After greeting the audience with the three boys, you let yourself be taken backstage by Ricardo. Juan tries not to make too friendly gestures towards you in public, knowing how much it hurts you and Ona to see everyone jump on these kinds of moments to support their theory.

********

The ride back to your hotel room was awful. All along the way in the van, your manager yelled at you so much that for the first time the boys rebelled against him. It surprised you but also made you very feel loved and cared. They’re the reason you haven’t dumped everything yet, you don’t have the courage to betray them by leaving. If you had been alone, it would have been different. But they are your childhood friends, more like brothers.

You haven’t looked at your phone once since you got back to your room an hour ago when someone knocked on your door. You know Ona won’t contact you. You have no interest in looking at it. You don’t answer when you hear a knock a second time, then a third time. And you don’t move either when the door of your room opens anyway a few minutes later. Juan went to ask for a copy of your magnetic card at reception, not hearing you open.

"We need to talk Y/N."

"Don’t want to" is the only sentence you manage to get out of your mouth.

Rolled up in a ball under your sheets, your cushion tight between your arms and your head resting on the plush lion that Ona offered you years ago, you only want to stay here until the end of time.

"We talked, with the guys," said Juan, regardless of what you just said. "We think you have to go."

You need a few seconds to realize what he just said.

"What?"

"I booked you a plane to Barcelona. You have six hours to pack and go to the airport. Marco takes charge of the manager and Ricardo makes sure the way is clear, but you’ll have to go out from this shit. You and Ona are more important than all this bullshit. Go take your girl back."

********

It is 7am when you land in Barcelona and 8am when you arrive on the doormat of your shared penthouse. You don’t have the key, usually Ona picks you up at the airport and opens you. You didn’t think about it until now. You’re too afraid to lose them somewhere in a hotel room on the other side of the world. But despite your doorbells, no one comes to open.

So you resolve to sit on your doormat and wait for Ona’s return. Your phone is out of battery, preventing you from contacting someone close to your girlfriend. You don’t know where she is and it awakens your fear that she actually found someone else. If that’s what pushed her to break up with you, it will be even harder to fix things.

Exhausted, you let yourself go against the door frame, your feet leaning on the other side. New tears roll over your cheeks and you are so tired that you start to doze.

"Y/N?"

Ona’s incredulous voice wakes you with a start and you bang your head against the handle of the front door while getting up. Your face fell when you realize that Ona is accompanied by a pretty brunette, who looks at you with curiosity. Is she the one she left you for? Why is she here? It lasts a few seconds, until Alexia comes out of the elevator too. Mechanically massaging the part of the skull you just banged, you continue to observe the unknown.

"What are you doing here?"

Ona's question makes you shift your attention to her and you cannot say why, but you cannot gather your ideas. Yet her tone is neither harsh nor accusing, quite the contrary.

"I…"

Reacting first, Alexia slips between Ona and you by seizing the keys Ona was holding and opens the door, making enter everyone. Seeing you struggling to get your suitcases, Ona bends down mechanically to help you get everything in.

"You never met my girlfriend, I think?" Alexia looks at you, maybe realizing what’s happening in your head. "This is Olga. Olga, this is Y/N."

You simply acquiesce but Olga hug you with a smile and you hug her back akwardly, the relief making you feel like you're hovering a thousand meters from the ground. Ona hasn’t met someone else. Just like she said.

"I think we’re going to leave you. Are you going to be okay?"

The look that Ona and Alexia exchange lasts a few seconds, before the captain decides that she can actually leave you both. She hugs you too before delicately closing the door behind Olga and her.

"You look exausted. Maybe you should go take a nice hot shower?"

You carry your eyes with heavy eyelids over Ona, shaking your head negatively. You honestly don’t know how long you will endure this sleepless journey, but you also don't know how long you will be able to stay with Ona. She can leave at any time.

"Come sit down, at least"

You feel a heat wave invading your body at the exact spot where Ona puts her hand on your arm to train you in the living room. You let yourself go on the couch, Ona settling next to you.

"You didn’t answer me. What are you doing here?"

"I left" you just whisper. "The boys helped me get out of the hotel and to the airport. Juan booked me a plane and I called my manager to tell him that I was leaving once on the plane. I was too afraid that he would hold me back"

"Wait, when you say you left…"

"I… quit? Broke the contract, call it what you want"

Ona looks at you with disbelief. She never gave you an ultimatum about your career, because she knew you had no choice.

"I should have done this before. But I couldn’t betray the boys" you whisper without being able to look at her.

A new silence settles and you end up lifting your eyes on Ona. She was looking at you attentively and you plunge your gaze into hers for a few seconds.

"I came to ask you for a second chance. I know things have been super complicated between us, especially these past few weeks. But I can’t live without you, Ona. I’ll do anything. I swear."

Ona’s face softens. Your eyes close when you feel her hand on your cheek, your whole body in search of any source of comfort from her. She stroke your cheek with her thumps, making you shivers.

"Do you know why I never asked you to choose between music and me?"

Without opening your eyes, you shake your head negatively. Ona’s voice is soft and helps you to calm down a little.

"Because I know how much you like it"

"I love you more"

You open your eyes even though your whole body is asking you not to. You’re exhausted and wondering what you might look like. Ona certainly saw you in a better light. She continues to look at you elsewhere, a few seconds of silence settling between you.

"I love you too" she ended up whispering. "But we’ll finish this conversation later, I think you need to sleep before you lose consciousness."

Without really giving you a choice, she gets up from the couch and makes you follow her, gently grabbing your hand. You let yourself be guided to your room, in which she helps you put on pajamas before letting you go to cool off in your bathroom. You don’t leave her figure with your eyes, even through the mirror while washing your teeth, fearing that she will disappear. But no, she waits patiently for you, sitting at the feet of your bed.

"Will you be there when I wake up?" you ask in a hesitant tone, finding the inimitable comfort of your bed.

Ona nods and even smiles as you slip under the sheets. Installed on your side, you can’t bring yourself to leave her eyes. That she still agrees to stay by your side despite everything makes you as happy as it terrifies you. She broke up with you less than 24 hours ago and didn’t really confirm to you that something was still possible between you. She said she loves you, but is that enough?

"I can hear you thinking from here"

With an arched eyebrow, Ona observes you with a semblance of severity.

"I’m just scared" you mumble without taking your eyes off her.

"Of what?"

"Losing you forever. You’re the most important thing in my life, I shouldn’t have waited until I lost you to fix things. You deserve the best, of course, but give me time to show you that I can offer it to you."

Softly biting her lip, Ona advances into the bed until she finds herself sitting on her knees, at the height of your chest.

"I’m not going anywhere Bebita"

"Does that mean you believe enough in us to give us another chance?"

As before, Ona’s face softens and is soon dress with one of her most beautiful smiles. You wrote in one of your song that only one of her smiles makes you feel better and that’s still the case today.

"I thought it was clear. Of course I want to give us a second chance."

You’re so relieved you might cry. In truth, real tears cost on your cheeks and you realize that when Ona leans over your cheeks to kiss them.

"Don’t cry. Rest. I’ll be there when you wake up later, and every other day."

As if to support her words, Ona slips with you under the cover and sticks you against her, in her arms. It doesn’t take long for you to fall into a deep sleep, lulled by her caresses on your back, the softness of her hair that sometimes tickles your cheek and the smell of her perfume and shower gel.

*********

When you wake up, hours later, you need some time to understand where you are. Only after that you realize that Ona isn’t here and you panic.

You stand from your bed so quickly that you fell, making a terrible noise. While you stand up, you here footsteps coming to you and you raise your head just in time to see Ona enter your bedroom.

"What happened?" she asks you, taking your hand in hers.

"You weren’t here, I thought you left" you mumble while looking at your feet.

But Ona make you look at her, tilting your face with her index.

"I’m here. I’m not going an where, I promised"

You nod, taking your phone on the floor. You have hundred missed call, messages and notifications everywhere.

"I made pasta, are you hungry?"

In reality you are not at all, but Ona took the time to prepare you to eat and you don’t want to disappoint her at all. Or give her the impression that she wasted her time. So you nod again before following her to the kitchen. You sit where she asks you to, wincing when you see the different messages from your manager. He’s really not happy. In truth, he is even completely furious. "Is everything all right?" asked Ona as she sat down in front of you, serving you a plate that would be enough to feed your entire neighborhood. "I’m in trouble" you sigh softly as you let yourself go against the backrest of your chair. "They will surely seek to press charges or make me pay" It will not be easy. Your gaze is lost on the bay window of your living room, giving a breathtaking view of the Mediterranean Sea. It’s partly thanks to this incredible view that you decided to choose this apartment. But you are quickly pulled out of your thoughts by the hand of Ona which lands on yours. "It doesn’t matter mi Corazon. Remember? We don’t care about others... "As long as it's You and Me" you answer with a slight smile. That was your credo when you were both teenagers. And when you grew up it stayed, even if lately the geographical distance took precedence over the rest. Now that you have her in front of you, you wonder how you managed to stay so long away from her. "We’ll find you the best lawyer and I’ll be there every second you need me." "Thank you" you answer simply, throat knotted with emotions Ona smiles tenderly and you feel your heart soaring like a butterfly. You find it hard to believe the reality in which you find yourself. Last night, Ona told you she wanted to break up with you and less than twenty-four hours later, you find yourself in front of her, in your apartment, apparently free of any contract.

"Can I kiss you?" you mumble shyly.

"Since when do you have to ask?" Ona laughs.

You shrug and smile too, inviting her to come to sit on your lap. Ona did and you pass your hand around her smaller frame.

Ona gently puts her hand in your hair, making you shiver.

"What do you want to do now?" Ona ask gently.

"Come see you play at the stadium, eat tortilla de patatas, go to the beach… Catch up on my sleep, if possible with the most beautiful woman in the world next to me."

"Did you already call her?" jokes the Spanish.

You roll your eyes before giving her a little kick on the thigh.

"As if you didn’t know it was you" you snorts before gently kissing her cheek.

"You missed."

Ona’s amused smile makes you smile back and you put your lips on hers this time. It’s a sensation you haven’t felt in far too long. Ona all against you, her skin against yours, her inimitable perfume. She is everything that count for you, well beyond your music group, your success and that we forgive you but obviously well above your fans.

"I’m so in love with you" Ona whispers against your lips.

"Certainly not as much as I am" you answer with a smile.

As you predicted, the record company, your producer and even your manager will launch legal proceedings against you. But thanks to Alexia’s lawyer, you managed to get away with it without much damage. Honestly, you didn’t care about losing money, all you wanted was to be able to get your freedom back.

Like you, the boys came back to Barcelona after the group disbanded. They formed another one for a while, with another singer, but they finally turned the page, claiming it’s not the same without you. None of the three resent you and you still see them regularly.

A few months after you left the band, you came out on social media. Without giving all the details either, you and Ona have not made an official announcement for your couple. You attend almost all of Ona’s matches, sometimes making the trip abroad with her and the team. You post what you want to post on social networks, photos of your holidays, your moments spent with your friends or with Ona, obviously.

It’s fun to see people wondering about your relationship, but you appreciate that they do it with someone you really are. Which you’re extremely in love with and extremely proud of. Wag’s life suits you perfectly, especially when the woman you follow is as perfect as Ona.

[twopoppies]

Things that I am interested in doing with Harry: shop for fancy linens, I know he knows where to get them so they are luxe. Watch some sort of limited miniseries on premium tv because I like those better than normal TV or movies. Have him teach me how to juggle because I cannot do it. Watch and discuss Planet Earth or similar show. Museum of Natural History in London. Grocery shopping for specialty items at niche markets, I want to spend some time shopping around for fancy mustards and jams together. Golfing because yes I can play and I want to see how good he is however I don’t want to discuss golf because golf is so very boring to talk about. Drink rose outside when the day starts to cool off. Park for picnic and reading. Shopping for used books. Shopping for sunglasses. Put mascara on both of us. Go to art museums in interesting places and learn about new types of art that art history classes didn’t cover. Go to that Thai restaurant in Bangkok he waited hours for a table at, I loveeeeew Thai food. Buy him a bicycle helmet. Weed or other drugs I consider safeish- no needles, trusted sources only. Trade favorite books but promise to return them once finished (do not steal my favorite books, Harry). Errands because they’re usually more fun with a friend. Outdoor dining for any meal somewhere bougie. Buy stationary and fancy pens. Dinner party. Meander around new neighborhoods. Buy new couch I feel like he has good taste in furniture. Margaritas but no casemigos that brand is not cool. Flower market. Not hang out with anyone he works for or with for any reason (lookin at you, Ben, James, Jeff, BRAD, Xander. Basically all the revolting crowd he runs with). Not hang out with Kid Harpoon that guy gives me the creeps. Ok now I’m just going to start being mean and saying things I do not want to do so I’ll stop. Anyway none of this involves hopping on his dick and I’m not leaving that out to make a point, I just don’t think that’s something I want to do. OH practice driving a manual transmission because I haven’t done that in awhile although technically I know how. He can teach me again I think just he knows.

LOL! I love you, whoever you are. Other than the weed, I’m with you 100% (because I don’t smoke).

You are officially the start of my “correct ways to be friends with Harry” tag. Or maybe ���loving Harry the right way.” 🤣🤣🤣

[sequinsmile-x]

One Last Souvenir From My Trip to Your Shores - Part 2

“Come on, Derek, it’s my job and Aaron knows that. And it’s not the first time I’ve had to flirt with an unsub. It’s not like I’m going to sleep with the guy.”

He scoffs and shakes his head, putting the coffee pot down with more force than necessary, “It wouldn’t be the first time you did that either.” 

A thoughtless and unkind comment from someone she's always considered a friend makes Emily feel like she's right back at the start.

-x-

Hi besties,

Thank you so SO much for the love for chapter 1, I'm genuinely a little blown away.

It almost makes me anxious to post chapter 2 haha, so I hope you enjoy this <3

I can't believe I ever thought this wouldn't be 11k words overall haha

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: None

Words: 5.5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She looks as tired as she feels. 

It’s the first thing she thinks when she looks in the mirror. Her makeup is smudged underneath her eyes, and she curses whoever marketed her mascara as waterproof. Her chin trembles when she sees the tracks of her tears on her cheeks and she shakes her head at herself, desperate to no longer be upset, but it’s futile and another tear slips down, following the trail left behind by the ones that had gone before it. 

“Damn it,” she says, blowing out a shaky breath, “Get it together, Emily.” 

She removes her makeup and then splashes water onto her face and pats it dry, blowing out a slow breath as she looks at herself in the mirror again, her red-rimmed eyes and slightly blotchy skin standing out in her bathroom's slightly too bright light. 

“That’s as good as it’s going to get,” she murmurs to herself as she drops the towel onto the countertop, and a smile spreads across her face when it lands next to some of Aaron’s things that lived there permanently. He had a razor here, a toothbrush and a bottle of his cologne. She’d never tell him that on the rare occasion when she slept separately from him she’d wear it. That she’d spray herself and her clothes and close her eyes and pretend he was right there with her. 

His bathroom looked similar, items she’d taken there and left in amongst his and spread across all the surfaces. The first night she stayed, Aaron presented her with a toothbrush to keep in his bathroom, and it now sat in the holder next to his and Jack’s.  It made her feel like part of a family for the first time in a long time, maybe for the first time ever, and it made her smile whenever she saw them all lined up, or when she accidentally picked up Jack’s watermelon flavoured toothpaste.  It was messier than her bathroom, a microcosm of Aaron and Jack’s life - items the little boy always left out that she or Aaron would put away - and it felt like a taster of a life that she was leading up to. Practice for something she so desperately wanted and knew she was on the cusp of having.

She sighs and steps out of the bathroom, but stops when she hears voices. For a split second, she thinks Aaron might actually be telling off the poor college kid who delivered the pizza, but then she realises she recognises the second voice. She feels anxiety pool in her gut again, any comfort Aaron had given her extinguished by Derek’s voice. 

“I just want to speak to her,” he says, more irritation in his tone than she thinks he deserves to feel. She steps into the hallway and sees Aaron blocking Derek’s view of the apartment, his skin paper white as it’s drawn over his knuckles as he holds the door tight. 

“I think you’ve said enough,” he says, his voice clipped, and she doesn’t have to look at his face to know Derek’s likely on the receiving end of a stern expression that had made hardened criminals crumble. 

She knows if she said that she wanted Derek to leave he’d close the door in his face without question, and he’d tell him to leave and that would be it. She’s tempted, unsure if she wants to talk to him before she’s had a chance to figure out what she wants to say, the wounds caused by his careless words still fresh and wide open. But she knows this conversation will be hard whenever she has it, and she wanted to get it over with, to try and move forward from whatever the last few days had been. To try and start chipping away at the heavy weight in the pit of her stomach that had been planted there by Derek just a few days ago. 

“Aaron,” she says before she can change her mind, her lips pressed together as he turns to look at her, “You can let him in.”

He stares at her, and they have a silent exchange, a conversation with no words because they’d never really needed them. He looks at her, seeking out any tiny semblance of doubt on her face and she nods at him, lets him know she’s sure and he nods back, a short, sharp thing that she knows means he’ll support her no matter what. He opens the door and lets Derek step past him, and he comes face to face with the pizza delivery guy who seems confused by the tension he’s walked into. Aaron passes him the money and takes the pizza without comment, closing the door behind him before anything can be said. He places their dinner, which he’s sure will go cold before they can eat it, on the closest surface he can find, and makes his way to Emily’s side. 

Some of the tension dissipates from her shoulders the moment he’s next to her, and she crosses her arms over her chest, clearing her throat as she waits for Derek to speak. He doesn’t, as if he hadn’t expected to get this far at all, and Aaron sighs, his hand on Emily’s back to get her attention. 

“Why don’t we all go sit down?” 

She nods and lets herself be led to the living room, warmth spreading through her from where Aaron’s hand is pressed against her back. He taps her spine three times with his thumb, and she steps away so she can hold his hand, the press of her palm against his her way of returning the sentiment she doesn’t want to share in front of Derek. It’s only when they are all sitting down, when Aaron takes his place by her side, sitting close enough that their thighs press together, and Derek sits on the couch opposite them that she realises this is the first time Derek had ever been to this place. 

He’d never visited, and had never asked to either, and it makes sadness swell in her gut, a feeling that’s extinguished as she remembers what Aaron had told her about what he’d said in her old apartment. How he stood in her home, the place she’d cooked for him and where he’d drunk her expensive liquor, and he’d torn her character apart. He sits opposite them and just stares, and she’s suddenly very aware of the fact she and Aaron are dressed so casually, one of his t-shirts loose on her frame. It’s a version of them that was usually only for them and Jack and she hates that Derek is seeing it. It makes her feel exposed, like she’s on display for him to see, and she tightens her grip on Aaron’s hand. 

“I thought you wanted to speak to me,” Emily eventually says, her voice more steady than she feels and she thanks a god she isn’t sure she believes in anymore for the way she’d been brought up, for the fact she could hold herself together even when it felt like she was slowly ripping apart at the seams.

Derek sighs, his arms across his chest as he looks back and forth between the two of them, “Can we talk alone?” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Aaron says without thinking, an automatic response he can’t hold back as the desire to protect her almost burns him from the inside out. He looks at her so he can gauge what she wants, because they both know he’d leave if she asked him to, but she nods ever so slightly and keeps her grip tight on his hand, her blunt nails digging into his skin. 

“Anything you want to say to me you can say in front of him.”

Derek laughs, it’s nervous and unlike him, and he looks between the two of them again, “What, you can’t speak to me without your guard dog?”

She knows it’s an attempt at a joke, that he’s trying to lighten the mood he’d created in the first place, and it just makes her angrier. She knows it does the same for Aaron because she can feel how his shoulders get tenser, his body almost wider with it as he prepares to be exactly what Derek is comparing him to. 

“Derek,” she says warningly, “He’s staying. What did you want to say?”

He leans forward, his elbows on his knees as he clasps his hands in front of him, and he blows out a breath, “I’m sorry.” 

She chuckles humourlessly, “Is that it? Because we have pizza to eat and it’s been a long day-”

“Emily, come on-”

“No,” she says sharply, “You can’t come here and say you’re sorry and think that’s it. You can’t call me a whore and expect to-”

“Whoa,” he says, cutting her off and shaking his head, “I never said that.” 

She clenches her teeth, fed up with being told by people, men, that she’d misinterpreted things, that she’s overreacting to something she hasn’t even begun to react to yet. 

“Then what did you mean by it?” She asks, staring at him, finding no joy in how he shrinks in front of her, how he becomes visibly smaller as he grapples for an explanation they all know he doesn’t have, “That’s what I thought. You should go, this was pointless-”

“I didn’t mean to say it.”

She scoffs and shakes her head, “Then what did you mean to say? Or did you just mean to think it?” She asks, her sadness once again overtaking her anger, the two emotions racing each other around her bloodstream in a way that makes her fidget. Aaron places his hand on her knee and it grounds her, reminds her she’s not facing this or anything else alone anymore. 

“When you were arrested for murder, I barely knew you and I believed you were innocent without question and I did not judge you or your actions. Why couldn’t you do the same for me when you stood in my home and talked about things you do not understand that happened before I knew you?” 

Derek connects the dots quickly, figures out the chain of command of how everything he’d said in anger to Dave had made its way back to Emily, and looks sharply at Aaron, “You told her.”

“She deserved to know,” Aaron says firmly, all of his focus on keeping his cool. Emily could hold her own, he knew that, but his desire to protect her was thrumming under his skin, making him all but vibrate on the couch. 

“What gives you the right-”

“I asked him,” she says, cutting over Derek again, barely able to bring herself to let him finish a sentence, “I asked him and he told me.” She sighs sadly, the one thing she’d been thinking on repeat since he’d broken her heart finally slipping free, “I thought you were my friend.” 

Aaron tightens his hold on her hand, unable to stop himself because the crack in her voice reverberates through his heart, and he’s worried if he didn’t do something he’d tell Derek to leave. He runs his thumb back and forth over the pulse in her wrist, tracing the evidence that she’d survived the very worst things that had happened to her. 

Derek’s face falls, the first crack in his facade, and he sinks back against the couch, “I am your friend, Em.” 

“I think we have very different ideas about how we should treat our friends, Derek. I have spent months…” she trails off and swallows thickly as her voice starts to shake. She turns her head to face Aaron, her eyes shining as he looks at her and her jaw tight as she tries to keep herself together. It’s another silent conversation, a squeeze of her hand and a look in his eyes that she knows means are you okay, and she smiles, something that’s lost in the tight way her lips are pressed together and she nods, her expression firm again when she turns back to look at Derek, her voice more steady this time, “I have spent months trying to earn back your trust, trying to prove myself to you again and all this time you’ve been…what? Judging me for things you’ll never have to understand,” she licks her lower lip and takes a deep breath, “I had a relationship with Ian. I had sex with him,” she shrugs when he closes his eyes, his jaw tight with anger, “Why does that have anything to do with you?” 

He sighs, “It doesn’t, not really, but-” 

“There is no but Derek. It has nothing to do with you, and neither does my relationship with Aaron, which is something else you seem to have an opinion on.” 

Derek’s jaw tightens again, his eyes flicking to Aaron, staring him down as he spits out his response, “He faked your death.” 

His attitude towards Aaron makes her angrier, something she wouldn’t have thought was possible as it briefly stamps out any sadness that was lingering in her throat. Aaron stiffens next to her, his shoulders so tight she’s surprised his t-shirt doesn’t rip, that he doesn’t turn into the superhero Jack always compared him to right in front of her and defend her honour. She knows he wants to. If she hinted even for a second that she wanted his help he’d jump in and protect her, but he doesn’t, because she didn’t want or need him to fight her battles. She needed him to help pick up the pieces after. To remind her where all of them went and help her move forward. It was the part of all of this that she’d been missing before him. The support behind the scenes that she’d always told herself she didn’t need because she didn’t know what it felt like to have. 

“And you faked your cousin’s,” she says cooly, unaware until she’s said it that his hypocrisy over Aaron and JJ’s actions to protect her had upset her, the response out and in the air around them before she’d realised it had escaped the place she’d buried it. A flash of guilt licks through her chest, burning her from the inside out as his face falls. She shakes it off, remembering that no matter what she’d made him feel, it was not even a degree of how he’d made her feel.  

“I did that to protect my family.” 

Aaron chuckles humourlessly, his self-control slipping for a moment as everything he’d turned inwards for months breaks free, “And why do you think I did what I did? For fun? Because I wanted to bury another woman I…”

He drifts off, his jaw tight as he holds back everything that feels too personal to share with anyone other than Emily.  He’d known he’d loved her for a lot longer than they’d been together, but he’d only found the name for it when he was faced with losing her, when he was carrying a coffin he knew she wasn’t in. It was a moment of awful clarity, every moment he’d ever had with her on a grim showreel in his head that he couldn’t stop seeing. He told himself that when he got her back, the idea of if too painful to accept, he’d do something about it. 

In the end, he hadn’t been able to, frozen in fear that she would never feel the same way for him. She’d taken the leap, like she so often did, and he’d held her hand and jumped with her. 

She’d always been the bravest person he knew. 

“He was protecting me too,” she says, her hold on Aaron’s hand now so tight her skin is bone white where it’s stretched over her knuckles, “As our friend you should be happy for us,” she says, and Derek shakes his head, dropping his gaze to the floor, “I mean it, Derek. I won’t accept you talking crap about the man I love or our relationship.” 

He looks up, his brows furrowed, “You love him?” 

She scoffs, “Yes,” she says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world because it feels like the most obvious thing in the world.

“And I love her too,” Aaron adds, the gentle words at odds with the stern expression on his face. He usually smiled when he said it, his expression soft and his dimples carved out deep in his cheeks. She turns to look at him and smiles at him, something in her chest easing when he smiles back. 

“Did you love him?” 

She presses her lips together at Derek’s question and watches as Aaron’s face falls too, the brief flash of him, of her Aaron replaced by Hotch as they both turn to look at him. She clears her throat. 

“Ian?” She asks, and Derek nods. She smiles wryly, “Please don't tell me you're equating love to sex, I've seen you go home with enough one-night stands to know you don't believe they are the same thing.” 

He chuckles humourlessly, “That isn’t an answer.” 

She has to wrap her other hand around Aaron’s, sandwiching it between the two of hers to remind him to stay quiet, his anger thick and palpable in the air like a cheap cologne. She’s angry herself because Derek thinks he’s won, that he’s tripped her up with his frustratingly black-and-white thinking. He was still so sure after all these years, after all they’d seen and done, that there were clear answers to everything. She’d lived in the grey area for years. Had existed on the edges of what was right and wrong, and she wonders if that’s part of her that Derek would simply just never understand. 

“And I don't have one that's simple,” she says, “Or one that I think you'll find satisfactory.”

The room falls into silence and Derek leans forward, his fingers pressed against his temples as he tries to gather himself, “I am sorry that I upset you. No matter what…no matter what I may think or have said, I never wanted to upset you.” 

She presses her lips together, “Okay.” 

He frowns, “Okay? Is that it?” 

She nods, “You apologised, I’m not ready to forgive you.” 

He chokes on a humourless laugh, “Em-”

“No,” she says, cutting over him, “You didn’t just upset me, Derek. You…you’ve changed the way I think about our friendship. And that’s going to take a long time for me to come to terms with,” she swallows thickly, pushing down emotions she won’t let herself feel until he’s gone, her eyes burning with tears, “It’s going to be a long time before I trust you again.” 

He sighs and shrugs in defeat, “Then where does this leave us?” 

“Where we are right now I guess,” she replies, “I didn’t bring us to this point. You did. And it isn’t my responsibility to try and make you feel better about it.” 

They fall into silence again, and Emily realises she has nothing left to say, that she’s done trying to defend herself when she’s done nothing wrong. The ball was in Derek’s court now, and she hoped he’d eventually see her side of it all. He nods, his shoulders slumping a little, as he stands. 

“I should go.” He says, his smile tight. Emily stands too, and so does Aaron, his hand on her lower back as they move as one to show him out. He hesitates at the door and turns to look at her, his gaze drifting over both of them, over how close they are. As if he’s seeing them and their relationship as it is for the first time and not the way he’d assumed it to be, “Will we ever get back to where we were?” 

She shrugs, “I doubt we’ll sit in one of the SUVs on a stake out and make fun of Aaron for being a hardass ever again,” she scrunches her nose up and looks over her shoulder at Aaron, “No offence, honey.” 

He squeezes her hip, a smile Emily knows Derek has likely never seen before flashes across his face, “None taken. I am a hardass.” 

She presses her lips together and turns back to Derek, “We’ll get…somewhere. I’m sure.” 

It’s all she can offer him. It’s all she wants to offer him because she doesn’t know how she’ll feel tomorrow or in a week. She doubted the heartache would go away any time soon, and she didn’t know when she’d be able to look at him again and not think of the hurtful thing he’d said. Of the way he’d looked at her when he said it. Of the way he’d made her feel like she was worth nothing. 

It had been a long time since someone she loved looked at her like that and she cared that they had. 

Derek nods, and he forces a tight smile as he leaves, the apartment falling into silence after the door closes behind him. Aaron moves his hands to her shoulders, his thumbs pressed into her back as he tries to ease some of the tension there.

“Sweetheart-” He’s cut off when she turns in his arms, her face buried in his neck and her hands grasping at his back, his t-shirt tight in her fists. He feels the burn of her tears against his skin and he kisses the top of her head, “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you,” he kisses her hairline and pulls back just enough to see her face, “Let’s go sit down, okay?” 

She nods but doesn’t pull away from him. She lets him lead her towards the couch, her sniffles and the occasional sharp intake of breath the only sounds in the apartment. As soon as she’s sitting down he moves to pull away but she stops him, her blunt nails digging into his arm as she furrows her brow. 

“I’ll be less than a minute, okay,” he says, squeezing her forearm before she nods and he tilts his head towards the bathroom, “I’ll barely leave your sight.” 

She watches as he goes, her vision blurred by the tears she’d held back throughout the painful back and forth with Derek. She hears the faucet in the bathroom briefly go on and off, and then Aaron walks back towards her, a damp washcloth in his hand. He sits next to her and turns towards her, his knee knocking against her thigh, and he gently wipes her cheeks with the washcloth. He touches her as if she’s made of something precious, his love and care for her soft as he dabs away the tears someone else had caused, each one immediately replaced. It doesn’t phase him and he carries on, diligent in the task he had set himself as they sit in silence, his knee pressed against her thigh as he gives her the silence she needs to figure out what she wants to do next.

“I’m sorry.” She eventually chokes out, her voice ragged and throat tight. 

“What for?” He asks, his smile reassuring and entirely hers when she finally looks at him. She tries to smile too and it shakes, the laugh that escapes her close to hysterical.

“I feel like all I’ve done this evening is cry.” 

“You never have to apologise for that. I love you, and part of that is looking after you when you’re sad or hurt.” He leans forward and kisses her cheek, tasting the salt of her skin as she leans into him, curling against his side as if she’d been waiting for him to initiate contact. He drops the washcloth onto the side table for now and wraps his arms around her, never wanting her to doubt that he’d always be there ready and waiting for her when she needed him. 

“It’s been a long time since someone I care about has been able to hurt me like that,” she says, her voice shaking, “He should call and give my mother some tips, she’s lost her edge in recent years.” 

He knows what she’s doing, knows that humour is a shield she’d used her whole life, and he squeezes her thigh, “Sweetheart.” 

She heaves in a breath, the press of it sticking to each of her ribs as it shudders in her lungs, and she nods as she blows it back out. 

“Sorry,” she says, smiling sadly when he raises an eyebrow at her again, “It’s just..having to think about Ian this much…” she blows out another shaky breath and her chin trembles, “It’s never easy.” 

He hears what she hasn’t said, what she doesn’t need to say, and he tucks some of her hair behind her ear, his knuckles soft against her cheek afterwards as he wipes away her tears, “Like I said you earlier, none of that matters to me. None of it. The only thing that matters to me is you.” 

“I know,” she says, cupping his cheek, running her thumb back and forth over his jaw, “Thank you,” she smiles sadly and he almost tells her she doesn’t have to thank him, but she carries on, speaking as if she wasn’t aware she was talking outloud. “Sometimes it feels like I haven’t moved forward at all since I came back.” 

For a moment he wishes he had shouted at Derek, that he’d let him know exactly what he thought of him and all the things he’d said about Emily, but he knows it wouldn’t have helped. The last thing Emily needed, or wanted, was two men fighting over her honour like she was a prize to be won.

“Recovery isn’t linear, Em. And you have moved forward. And I won’t let Derek, or anyone, take that from you.” 

She smiles despite the vice around her heart, “Even me?” 

He leans in to kiss her lower lip, “Especially you.” 

She rests her forehead against his and cups the back of his head to hold him in place, “You’re a good man, Aaron Hotchner. The best. And I won’t let anyone, including you, take that from you.” She swallows thickly and blows out a breath, and it makes her sadness skip across his face, the melancholy in it enough to break his heart, “Where do I go from here, Aaron? How do I go to work on Monday knowing my partner, my friend, thinks those things about me?” 

“Well, I’ve got it on good authority that your boss has a soft spot for you,” he says, running his fingers through her hair, “So he can make sure you don’t get partnered with him for a while.” 

She pulls back to look at him, “I can’t ask you to do that.” 

“You aren’t asking me I’m happy to do it for you if it makes your life even a little bit easier,” he rubs a soothing circle on her back, “And I have a feeling Derek won’t try and argue it either.” He says, and she bites the inside of her cheek, sure that she should just put up with it, but Aaron carries on, “There are some benefits to being the boss, sweetheart. And it’s not just the office with a front row view of your desk,” he pauses as she laughs, the sound easing something in his chest, the melody of it filling the space around his heart, “I can do this for you.” 

She’s nodding before she even knows she’s going to agree, and she leans in to stamp her lips against his, “Okay. Thank you.” 

“You have got to stop thanking me for looking after you,” he says softly, winking at her when she fails to hide a smile, “I like doing it.” 

She settles against him, drawing warmth and comfort from the safety of his arms. She’s not sure how long they sit there in silence. How long he trails his fingers up and down her arm, the calluses on his thumb catching on an old scar he’d heard her get years ago when she was thrown against a mirror by a long-dead monster. It feels like he’s trying to heal her bit by bit, that the soft press of his rough skin against hers is undoing everything that ever came before him, and on some level, she thinks he is. He’s providing everything she never knew how to ask for, everything she still didn’t know how to ask for, and she never wanted him to stop. 

 “We never ate the pizza,” she says eventually, the sound of his belly rumbling breaking through the silence they had fallen into. She scrunches her nose up, “It’s probably stone cold by now.” 

“You’re not a fan of cold pizza?” He asks, and she grimaces and shakes her head. 

“It reminds me too much of college and bad decisions.” 

He chuckles, “We can order another one.” 

“I need to find my phone,” she says, making no attempt to move, far too comfortable pressed against him, and he smiles as he pulls his phone from his sweatpants.

“Here,” he says as he hands it to her, “Order what you want. You can even get one of those disgusting dessert pizzas you like.” 

She rolls her eyes at him, “They aren’t disgusting. They are just glorified cookies.” 

“Then they shouldn’t call them pizzas.”

She presses her lips together to try and contain a smile, the beautiful and simple domesticity of it all almost misplaced after the day she’d had. But she thinks maybe that’s the point - that she could have a terrible awful day and still have this to come to, that she no longer had to sit in the darkness by herself. 

She smiles as she unlocks his phone and is met by his wallpaper. It’s a picture of the two of them and Jack, the little boy in her arms and both of them in Aaron’s, all standing together in the park with wide smiles on their faces. Aaron had been taking photos of her and Jack, and a stranger offered to take one of all three of them, her smile kind as she told them they were a beautiful family. None of them had corrected her, because thats what they were. A family. Or at least the building blocks of one. She’d make fun of him for it, gently tease him and call him sentimental, if she didn’t have the same picture set as her wallpaper too. 

She frowns curiously at an email she can see on his screen, a dispatch notification from a homeware store she knows isn’t cheap, and she turns her head to look at him, tilting the phone so he can see it too. 

“What did you order?” 

“Oh,” he says, clearing his throat, his dimples standing out as his cheeks flush with embarrassment, “I bought new pillows. You said mine hurt your neck, so I ordered new ones.” 

She stares at him for a moment, her mouth hanging open as she huffs out a laugh, “When? We only got back from the case this afternoon and you haven’t been home yet?” 

He tugs her closer, his lips against her temple as he hides a smirk against her skin, “There’s this amazing thing called the internet, I don’t know if you’ve heard of it. They should arrive tomorrow - I bought the same ones you have.” 

She pulls back to look at him, his phone in a loose grip in her hand, and she presses her lips together, entirely unsure what to say in response. “Those are expensive, Aaron.”

He shrugs like the price of them hadn’t occurred to him, “You and your comfort when you’re at my place are worth it.” 

She kisses him because it’s the only thing she can think of doing, and she rests her forehead against him, her nose knocking against his, “I love you.” 

He furrows his brow, “Because of the pillows?”

“No,” she replies, rolling her eyes at him, “Well, yes. But not just because of the pillows,” she says, “Because of everything,” she runs her fingers through his hair, “I love you because you’re you.” 

He smiles and kisses her, his lips catching the corner of hers, “I love you because you’re you too,” he looks at her, his eyes searching hers and finding the lingering sadness left behind by the last few days and the lack of a resolution that she so desperately wanted, “Everything will be okay, sweetheart. It might take some time. But it will be okay.” 

She nods and rests her head against his chest, her forehead pressed against his neck as she tries to get as close to him as she can, his warmth and the safety that always came with it giving her all the things she’d never had before. 

A home. Reassurance. And the love she’d spent a lifetime chasing, 

“I know,” she says, turning her head to kiss him, her lips catching his jaw, “How could it not be? I have you.” 

-x-

NB: I know some of you were hoping for an Aaron/Derek altercation, but it didn't feel right for Aaron's character and also it's absolutely not what Emily needs. She needs her man to be a supportive king!!

As always, let me know what you think <3

Until next time,

SequinSmile x