#for those of us who may have breathed it in without noticing‚ and now be spreading it‚ again without noticing‚ in our turn

[aeide-thea]

so i went to reblog some fanart earlier and started to tag it #oh this is. incredible actually, and then paused and thought, @‍self why the 'actually.' what is that adverb conveying. and i contemplated it for a bit, and finally concluded: well, shit. it's reflexive deprecation.

the thing is, deprecation is my starting position pretty much always, and that's a problem in itself, but mostly my problem; but when you're talking abt somebody else's work, and you start backing defensively away from imagined negativity before anyone's even actually voiced any? you may think you're playing bodyguard, but in reality you're the vanguard of the assault, opening a wedge for enemy forces to strike.

i was talking a couple of weeks ago abt seeing ppl tag that kristin sue lucas name-multiplied-by-one post with tags like 'this is art To Me' vel sim., and honestly i think it's a similar sort of reflex—i think exposure to the tumblr vernacular often leads people (very much including me!) to produce turns of phrase like this, that ultimately serve to convey roughly

'i, a clever girlblogger,¹ am, yeah, engaging with this frivolous hai pollai²-coded material; but my relationship to it, unlike that of most she-ple, is Intellectual and Analytical and Examined! and to make that clear, i'll be dropping in these little verbal particles from time to time, in order to distinguish my own, elevated examination of the subject from the state of risible naivete³ i'm implicitly ascribing to the other, more ordinary audience members i'm conjuring up only to instantly put down—but like, it's fine, i'm a free-and-easy girlblogger(TM), so you can't think i'd ever deliberately propagate establishmentarian prejudices! never mind the effect my rhetoric might subconsciously be having, on me or on anyone else…'

and i think this framing is worth squinting at, and worth attempting to excise from one's speech and from one's mindset, because when you get right down to it? it's just yet another insidious manifestation of respectability politics, that's gotten people to adopt it via the cuckoo-chick strategy of positioning itself as cutesy tumblr idiolect.

and like, circling back around to that fanart i mentioned at the outset: yeah, the tag did feel weirdly prosodically truncated to me without that 'actually'! but this way, if the artist ends up seeing my discussion of their work in their notes, they won't be getting slapped in the face with a wet dead fish first, so like. what's more important, you know?

⸻ ¹ ""(gender neutral)"" ² https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hoi_polloi in the feminine, if i haven't totally fumbled my declensions… ³ phrasing nicked from a comment of @‍proudheron's.

[theoxenfree]

IMPOSTER

possessed scholar!husband x reader |3.9k| 18+

In an unforeseen act of self-preservation, your family marries you off into an exorbitantly wealthy family, to a reclusive and reticent scholar who provides you little affection. He is suddenly called away for the handling of his late uncle's final will wishes and estate. He returns to you not himself, and with unquenchable lust.

warnings; dead dove do not eat; extreme dubon, explicit sexual content, mentions of (not explored, not described): orgies, heatplay, robbing a mortuary & drug use, masturbation w/ metal dildo, mirror sex & masturbation, hypnotism, power imbalance, murder, body horror, gruesome imagery, classism, detail & prose heavy, roughly proofread.

this is a concept piece, possibly preluding a full story! if you have any interest in having me build a larger piece out of this concept, PLEASE reblog + interact and let me know! I'm only going to go forward with it if folks express interest!

read to the end for author's notes!

In the airless dark of your bedroom at night, you knew the man lying next to you under covers was not your husband. Once he had been, but now he no longer was.

The revelation had come to you before noticing the stillness of his broad frame in bed, certain stiffness which seemed more alike to rigor in a days old corpse rather than a man wrapped in the comforting spell of deep sleep.

His breaths were silent, if he even breathed at all, reminding you of childhood where the floorboards wouldn't creak so loudly if you sucked all the air out from your lungs into your throat, snagging it, holding it firm. Suddenly, you'd be lighter; effervescent; floating across the wooden slabs towards the kitchen past midnight, or out the front door during the years where testing your parent’s patience and fraying the head maid’s nerves was your favorite thing to do.

You’d learned later on, after the loveless vows and complicated legality behind joining your two families, that your husband had a knack for slipping away at night as well. Only, he wasn't at all the sort for flirtatious gallivanting and loquacious rendezvous with secret lovers in dim rooms, smells of mildew masked by a numbingly sweet, perfumey fog.

He was reclusive and reticent; one of those outstandingly brilliant scholars who believed the rest of the world was below him because he hadn't found an equal in conversation or thought. Social obligations—no matter the occasion or person—pained him to where he intentionally brought you as a buffer between himself and whomever was trying to speak to him.

Some of the talk was so astronomically beyond you that parroting the long-winded answers he spoke softly into your ear back to his audience made you burn under the collar from embarrassment and his proximity to you. His peers could not understand why he simply wouldn't talk for himself; meanwhile, they also wondered why someone without their level of formal education had even accompanied him.

At night, he became one with darkness and retreated to the depths of his study across the massive house you shared together. It was part of one of his family’s various estates dotted across the country and his favorite, due to its location near the university where he worked (at his leisure), and its closeness to his only relative he actually cared about.

“My uncle—he has passed. Of complications caused from tuberculosis, I've been told. I was the only family member placed in his will, therefore it falls to me to settle all remaining affairs he may have overlooked,” he said, letting you help him into his heavy, wool coat he left on a hook near the front door. At his side was a hulking suitcase; one he often used for trips that were days—weeks away from home, from you. “He was a far more private man than I, so there's no telling what I'll come across while I'm there. I cannot tell you how long I'll be away. I'm sorry.”

You expected nothing less from him. This man who had only ever touched you once, on your wedding day. He did everything that he was supposed to: tonelessly regurgitate scripted vows he committed to memory, hold your hands, and kiss you at the altar for more than two seconds but less than five, and then gently lead you away once both families were pleased with the performance.

Right after, now as newlyweds, he poured bourbon into exquisite crosshatch crystalware and examined the glistening amber under wan lamplight. He apologized for kissing you, that he wouldn't have had at all if it hadn't been so important for your families.

At the time, it made you feel very ugly and undeserving of the silk and ornate lacework decorating your body. The gold band fitted around your finger was a lofty symbol of acquired wealth, heavy and unforgiving.

“Write to me every once and a while,” was all you could think to say at present, managing your composure well enough as he gripped the handle of his suitcase and leaned into its heftiness on that side. “It'd just be nice to know how you're doing. If you find anything interesting. When you'll be coming home. It gives me something to look forward to.”

“I'll try to,” he said, but looked through you, pierced you, as though trying to see something else. You saw this look most often at events or parties where he'd fixate on a specific point (usually you) and seem to recede inside himself, into his thoughts, perhaps trying to dissect them or make them congeal into something linear.

“Uncle was an eccentric man. There's no telling what he's left behind for me to find. I must go. Be well, my dear.”

Once again, he left you behind without remorse.

Four months passed with agonizing, gripping slowness from the crisp mornings of late autumn into the icy vise of winter and a shimmering white-blue landscape outside your windows.

In those days, you occupied yourself as best you could with guests and alcoholic merriment, whisked yourself away to parties and dinners after wringing out the invitations from friends, and spent many sleepless nights sprawled across the floor beside the fireplace coveting self-pleasure.

You imagined it was your husband there with you, immediately a renewed man after his return and finding you boundlessly desirable, fucking you with his cock rather than the freezing metal dildo you thrust inside yourself.

Even once you were finished, fucked out by your own hand and the object gaping you wide, you kept masturbating until you lost sensation, the motions and metal numbing you inside—until the intimacy and thrill of self-discovery had lost meaning to you.

Sometimes, you were found the next morning by a maid like that: thoroughly debauched with the phallus having rolled away nearby or still shallowly pressed inside. You only needed to threaten her livelihood once for her to never speak of it, pretend each time she hadn't witnessed a regrettable case of personal depravity.

It'd eventually become a frequent enough sight to her that she knew better than to look directly at you when she entered the room. Rather, now, she carried a laundered pair of trousers in with her. They were draped neatly over a bent arm, along with a warm and soapy rag in her hand, which she used to lightly clean you of dried fluids. Afterward, she helped you into the new garment.

“You have received a letter from the Master,” she said unexpectedly one morning, after fastening your pants and tucking your blouse inside them. “It's strange, though, because it doesn't feel like a letter. Not enough… substance. Shall I open it for you?”

“No! No, that's alright.” You took the long, pale envelope from her once she revealed it to you, realizing that she was right. There was nothing to it. Light as a feather, but completely sealed on the back with his personal emblem hastily stamped, or more appropriately, smeared, with red wax dribbling away from center towards the bottom of the envelope as if sudden jerkiness had unsteadied his focused pour.

You flipped the thing front to back several times, testing the way the opposite ends fluttered from nothingness within, and glanced aside to your maid.

She looked to be just as thrown.

“You're sure this is from him?” you asked, bemused. “Who delivered this?”

“Why, a courier on horseback, of course!” she said with conviction, so you knew she wasn't lying to you at that moment. It wasn't her habit to weave tales to get a rise out of her employers, anyway. “I even spoke to the courier for a while because I made a comment about it being so light. He wasn't sure about it, either, but the description of the man who hired him matched the Master almost exactly.”

You had found a letter opener on the desk nearby and made a quick cut under the wax to break the seal without ripping the envelope itself.

“Almost? What does that mean here?” you raised the intact flap with the messy seal attached, freeing all of the residual tracks of wax from the paper so that they fell to the hardwood below like pebbles shaken out of a shoe after a stroll through the yard. “The man was either my husband or he wasn't.”

The maid tried to subdue her intrigue of the envelope, turned, and moved onto bunching up the soiled sheet you'd spread out on the floor last night. “Please don't misunderstand. It was him. But, the courier described him as ‘a very interesting and friendly fellow to converse with’.”

“What?”

You were responding to two things simultaneously right then: what your maid had just told you, and the fact that the only content inside the envelope was a single shred of paper torn from an unlined journal.

The maid fluttered back over to your side as you plucked out the slither of paper, letting the envelope fall freely from your hand to the floor. Leaning into your proximity, she read aloud the same three words that your eyes skimmed:

“Father Marius DuMonde.”

Just as you had done before with the envelope, you flipped the scrap back and forth as though trying to magically flip something into existence. Your husband's handwriting was recognizable in the lettering, but it was impatient; scrawled across a page in one journal in his vast collection like he hurriedly walked past, and then ripped it out.

Nothing else was revealed to you in the seconds after, nor in your long, contemplative stare.

“Who is that?” you asked the maid to alleviate a fast yawning gap of uneasiness beginning to make you fidget and fluster. “A priest?”

The maid beamed in awe of your fast deductive skills and nodded eagerly. “It would seem that way! The city has more places of worship than it does homes for the hungry and sick. Although, I suppose a church offers some of those services.” However, the lightness sank out of her face when you didn't reciprocate that enthusiasm whatsoever. “You’re unhappy? What's wrong?”

“My husband is a scholar. A rigid man of science,” you said, bending over to pick up the discarded envelope to closer examine the disastrous wax seal. “He denounces faith in all forms. Why did he write a priest's name to me?”

That maddening thought followed you for days afterward, sufficiently distracting you from all the regular vices you'd come to rely on to fill the void of your husband's absence. Fulfill the needs he'd never tried to meet even while he was around.

You spent your days brooding in the window seats in whichever room was warmest, molding against their domed shape while leaning a cheek flush to frigid glass, eyes bloodshot and watering against the sun’s searing neon reflecting off of a lawn of undiluted, glittering white.

Seldomly, a finch or small vermin would come into your view—hopping or lunging through the snow, making tracks, digging holes, disturbing your beautiful wonderland and almost arousing you into unreasonable outbursts which then inevitably became the servants responsibility to contend with, should any be nearby to provoke you.

It was the early evening during one of your normal watches, just after dinner and a glass of red wine, when a great clamor carried swiftly to you from the foyer of the main entrance. The servants’ voices were a feverish amalgam of nonsensical babbling, high-pitched, and accommodating in a way that made you think of groveling dogs with flattened ears, wagging and tucked tails, bellies upturned to their masters.

“Come! Come quickly!” called your maid from the sitting room door, her shrill, excitable voice a violent jostling in your head, scrambling your thoughts and anger with it. “Master has returned! He's asking for you.”

You delayed the reunion, waiting several minutes after she had gone before standing. You realized that the anticipation you felt swelling in your chest, rising like growth—a malignant tumor into your throat, thickening your tongue and fouling your taste and smell, was because you were uneasy, haunted by the cryptic message he had presumably sent you weeks ago.

A while later, you entered the foyer to see most of the staff had already dispersed and the ones left behind were your husband’s most loyal. There among them, speaking so unremarkably, so casually in a way you'd never witnessed, was your husband. His good spirits and animated gestures as he handed off all his things to many hands were an odd sight, staggeringly unlike his typical dour.

So, the rumor was true. There was something discomforting in that.

Whatever topic he'd been engaged in fell wayside once he took sight of you: standing, waiting, subtly shifting your weight, picking your overgrown cuticles to remedy how nervous you truly felt in that moment. You'd always been a little uncertain of how to deal with him as he was hardly affable, but this—

“Oh my… there you are, my sweet!” his voice was exactly the same, but his way of speaking was too jarring, almost lilting. Unnatural. No one else seemed to notice. “I was worried you may have been cross with me for being away for so long. As it turned out, uncle had far more beneath the surface to find than I once thought. But, all is well! The old man has been laid to rest forever. The estate is in the right hands. I've come back to you.”

Could this man really be your husband?

He came to you in brisk strides with a certain clumsiness to the way he moved, somewhat off. You thought about seasoned drunkards who could walk along a path, but never on a straight line without gently swaying on and off of it. Mostly in control, but never so well to appear normal.

But, you didn't detect that stiff, hot, fermented reek of alcohol on his breath nor any subtle odor sticking to his clothes as he gripped you tight in an embrace. The only one he'd ever given you. Where you should have been over the moon in joy at his profound change in heart, the little sweetness was like an anchor—arms of a sinewy willow pinning you to an even stronger trunk.

“God, you're breathtaking.” He even sounded winded as he spoke, lifting your face up with both hands to see his dark, dark gleaming eyes. You startled from his cold touch, fingertips pinpricks of pure frost and ice as they pushed into your skin, but you felt trying to reach much deeper than that. “Come with me, my love. Let me show you just how much I've missed you.”

As if fantasy had become real, he fucked you relentlessly that night next to the fireplace, consuming you so completely that every orgasm made your insides churn in agony.

He laved at you with his entire mouth, tongue and teeth hardest at work while his hands bruised and fondled you, fingers thrusting up into your tight hole oozing his saliva and your arousal. It was shameful to think that it took this sort of handling from another person to get you off, squeal like a sow.

He fucked you however he could, wherever he could. Rutting you from behind and against furniture, pressing your bare chest flush to frosted over window panes to make your nipples erect and ache from the cold biting them.

Then, you were settled on his lap in front of a mirror hanging adjacent across the bedroom, his thighs spreading you wide open before your own reflection where you watched his cock plunge deep, filling you to the base of his shaft, balls slapping your sticky skin.

“Touch yourself, darling.” His throat rumbled, turning over stones and shards of glass, overall sounding very husky. There was something of wheeze that trailed the end of his every word, like he’d been patched for a long time. “Touch yourself. Watch yourself while you do it. Fuck yourself like the whore you are.”

Although the things he said were horribly uncouth, unbefitting of a man of his status and who you'd known him to be, there was great allure in hearing him, obeying his wants. You'd only had one glass of wine that evening, but your head and body warmed and buzzed like you'd had several.

His voice was a raspy whisper in your ears, seeping deep into your mind; spreading; fitting the grooves of your brain like the slow sprawl of sap through the gaps in bark. You were hardly yourself those minutes, those hours onward where you witnessed your reflection stroking throbbing parts, moaning, weeping, cumming until it hurt, and then doing it all over again.

The person in the mirror seemed to be someone completely different, whether simply disassociation from yourself or some hallucination evoked by exhaustion and ecstacy. Your husband had faded into the background, his voice creating sounds and noises, holding the cadence of language while seeming entirely unprobable, unknowable to you.

You couldn't understand him, yet you could, and the things he said were vile and disgusting and moralless. He told you of every way he'd like to fuck you, watch you be fucked; but, mostly, he wanted you to fuck yourself with the bulbous bedposts, the metal phallus held under lashing flames to be inserted next to his own cock.

He suggested orgies where the servants could take turns with you. He had almost convinced you to call for your maid so he could watch you suck on her breasts and lick her clit, while he rammed you from the back. He suggested drugs and whores, robbing the mortuaries, and worse and worse and worse and worse…

The next morning, you were stiff and immobile, bedridden unless two servants came into your room to help you squat on the commode. Your abdomen was tender and your genitals were untouchable, forcing you to lie in bed without undergarments to alleviate the raw chafing that could happen with fabric.

“I'm sorry, my darling. I—I lost control of myself. I got carried away,” your husband confessed later on, his sallow complexion keeping a weird, waxy sheen to it. A mask that fits, but not quite perfectly. Some of his former somber nature had returned to him as he sat on the edge of your bed, caressing the side of your face. He was still ridiculously cold. “Forgive me. I never meant to hurt you. I didn't realize just how desperate I was to see you again until you were in my arms. And then—and then, it was like it was all a dream.”

You thought the very same. You could believe he forgot himself in an uncharacteristic blaze of lust, as men were never taught to be any other way, and most men couldn't fathom the level of restraint he’d had until last night.

Everything else, you'd wanted to believe, was simply imagined after drinking more than you once thought and getting inside your own head full of sinful indulgences.

Still, one thing bothered you: Father Marius DuMonde.

“I need you to go to the city and find him. And show him this paper. Explain to him everything that you know, you hear?” You'd handed your maid the old envelope and scrap of paper, and handed her a generous bag of coins from your own safe.

She looked at you, everything else, in bewilderment. “Don't ask questions. If you're able, bring him back here. Beg him if you must. If it's all nothing, he will simply be an honored guest we feed well, house, and send off gracefully the next day. Should it be something…”

“Are you afraid of him? The Master?” asked the maid, perhaps out of faithfulness to him. Perhaps out of devotion to you the most. “What do you think happened at his uncle's estate?”

It would all be speculation and unjustified gossip without proof, of which you had none. So, you told her that you couldn't be sure of anything right now. “Wait until sundown. Take the old pony in the stables, the one that usually lags behind all the rest. Be silent. Be careful.”

The maid did as you asked and left right before the final light was extinguished by indigo nightfall. You were able to move to one of the windows, seating yourself gingerly, watching her lead the sluggish old pony into cover of tree tops and then nothing else.

But, five days later, the maid hadn't returned from her mission, nor had you received any correspondence from her, nor the priest that she was supposed to retrieve.

A week after that, it was revealed to you that neither she or the old pony had made it out of the woods. The details of the old pony were so gruesome you couldn't bear to remember them.

But, the maid was found nearly decapitated, head twisted around to face backwards, her pale skin hideously purple and black and swelled where it had been stretched like a strap of wrung leather. It was mentioned she had been disemboweled as well, but you promptly burst into tears and ran from the room before the visiting coroner could finish speaking, leaving him to discuss the rest with just your husband.

That night, you lay next to your husband in bed. The deep silence of night filled your ears with static and crunching cotton, whereas a hum resonated inside your head, your chest, seeping into your bones like a cold blanket of rainfall.

The black air took on weird shapes: imagined appendages curling, reaching across the ceiling towards the bed, towards you. Your eyes couldn't focus enough to ward them off, nor the depth of dark your husband's silhouette had at your side.

He was faced the other way, his clothes back to you, completely unmoving. You ventured closer to listen for the thin breathing of sleep, the automatic rise and fall of his body, and yet he could've been mistaken as one of the dead. As dead and gnarled as your maid.

“Who are you?” you asked him. Asked the swirling nothingness in the room. “Where is my husband?”

“You've nothing to worry about, my sweet,” he said readily, so clearly anticipating to have your voice ring out at some point in the night. “He is here with me. Such a selfish, unlovable man. I am the one worthy of this vessel and you. Not he.”

Then, he rolled on top of you and kissed you deeply. Your bedclothes were shucked from your bodies and he pushed your thighs apart to seat himself inside of you. He took you with greedy thrusts, face fitted against the arch of your neck where his breath left a moist film across your skin, but the rest of him was freezing.

Your whimpers of pains were dwarfed by his hot moans into your flesh, teeth suddenly sharper and sinking deep when he bit into your neck. You were trapped staring at the ceiling, wrapped in agony and pleasure, feeling his body under your fingertips beginning to distort and change into something far more monstrous.

a/n; this is heavily inspired from me reading the exorcist, recently. the section with the maid's head swiveled around was a nod to the scene with director having "fallen" from a height and dying similarly. a lot of my most recent reads have been extremely graphic, so my writing has been reflecting that and it's been interesting!

quick q&a!

is father marius dumonde the same father marius from your vampire priest fic? yup! if I go forward with writing the longer story, father marius will be a central character later on, and father shaw will make a reappearance as well.

what would the main differences be in a full story vs just this piece?

a) the husband would be given a more solid identity, appearance, and name. he'd have more depth to build an emotional rapport with his character.

b) existing scenes would be expanded, smut scenes grittier and more graphic, more development between mc and the husband, the maid would have a more important part and given an identity. essentially, most elements from this price would be fleshed out and expanded.

c) I intend to add a "mystery" element to this where mc tries to unveil what happened during the husband's stay at his uncle's estate.

d) I would open up multiple polls to help influence different aspects of the story such as the husband's name, appearance, overall disposition, whether the majority would vote for a happy ending with the husband vs the ending with the demon.

if you're interested in seeing a full story, make sure to reblog and share your thoughts with me!! I'd love to hear feedback on this to know what you'd like to see in the future!

[charliemwrites]

Part 4 of Mafia!Price

No Content Warnings

There are many things to appreciate about your boss, but one of them is his respect for routine. You’ve gotten him on a schedule and now he seems happily beholden to it; appreciates your promptness with tea and pastries and morning “briefings” each day.

He’ll happily sit back in his big leather chair and listen to you chatter out his itinerary for the day. Meetings, reports, phone calls. Trips to the dock, now, bless him.

You try not to stare between glances at your tablet. For a rich bastard, he is unfairly handsome. Good taste in just about everything, classy and luxurious without being ostentatious. Old money vibes, for sure, though you know better than to do more than idly wonder. Helps that he’s also remarkably gentlemanly with you. You’re not one to buy into old stereotypes or gender roles, even the ones that benefit you — but you’ll take a chivalrous boss over your old one any day.

Besides, it’s not like he’s spouting off about what women should and shouldn’t be doing. Or trying to use you as an example of an “acceptable” working woman. So, yeah, you’ll indulge in the door-holding and offered arms.

“Alright, best for last — your reservation for Muse is tomorrow. The restaurant is twenty minutes from your penthouse, so Simon will be downstairs by 7:30.”

You check that off your to-do list as you continue speaking.

“Do you have a suit picked out yet, or should I order something? Green is in season and it would go nicely with your eyes.”

He hums; you glance up. Leaning back, one arm lax on the arm of his chair, black watch gleaming. The other is propped to press his index finger against his lips. Like he’s telling you to keep a secret. The corners of his mouth are tilted up.

Your tablet dings and thankfully distracts you from staring.

Oh, for the love of— the only person more inconsiderate than Philip Graves is his damn assistant.

“Is that the color you’re wearing, then?”

Will need to call later today — as if!

“Hm?” You ask, not having caught it.

He arches his eyebrows; ah, you must have been making a face again.

“Are you wearing green tomorrow?” He repeats.

You blink. Are you what?

“Tomorrow, sir?”

He nods, once. “To Muse, luv.”

When you continue to stare with pleasant obliviousness, his eyebrows furrow a bit.

“You do know one of those seats is for you, yeah?”

You press your lips together for a moment. Well… shit. You take it back. You take it all back. John Price is a terrible, horrible, awful man who is so rude.

“I do now.”

Across the office, you make wide eye contact with Gaz. He grimaces in sympathy and ducks his head, though it’s clearly just to hide his traitorous laughter.

“Of course you’re coming along.”

“Sir,” you say, pleasant and sweet, “remember when I first started here? And I told you that I’m not a mind reader?”

“Of course,” he answers. “You threatened to spit in my tea in the same breath.”

“Only if you told me to fetch it for you,” you correct, before continuing, “I feel you may need a reminder: I cannot read your mind. How was I supposed to know you wanted me to go with you?”

“‘S your job, isnit?” He replies. You give him a dark look; he puts his hands up with a chuckle. “My apologies love, I thought you’d be in my pocket next to my handkerchief. Like always.”

You set your hand on your hip, proper cross now.

“It’s outside usual working hours, sir. How could I have possible expected to be invited to your fancy man party?”

“‘Fancy man party’?”

“Well, there’s nothing for it, I’ll have to leave early tomorrow.”

You’re already tapping madly at your tablet, looking up a salon willing to do your hair and makeup. God knows what kind of meltdown you’ll have if you can’t get your eyeliner symmetrical.

“Do whatever you need to do, luv,” Price soothes, standing. “I really am sorry for the short notice.”

You wave him off, then pat his arm as he gently guides you towards the door. Absently, you comply, more focused on getting appointments set and rearranging your own schedule for tomorrow.

“I’ll make it work,” you promise, “I always do.”

You let him bring you all the way to your desk, lower yourself into your ergonomic rolling chair.

“I’ll let you know what color I’m wearing by… one o’clock. Yes?”

“Sounds great, luv.”

You glance at the clock. “Also you have a call with the KorTac Group in ten.”

He chuckles and taps your chin. “Cheers, luv.”

—

Simon is the one to pick you up Friday evening. You both pause in the lobby of your apartment complex, staring.

“You look lovely,” he says at the same time you ask, aghast, “what happened to your face?”

He’s got a dark bruises discoloring the skin around one eye. Clearly some ice has already been applied because the swelling is down, but it must be fresh because he didn’t have it yesterday.

He snorts. “My job happened.”

You tut. “I’ve got something for that but we need to get moving. Mr. Price said he needs some help with his suit.”

You grab his arm without hesitation, habit from any of your escorts or drivers always offering it to you. Usually you accept out of politeness, but tonight you could use the extra stability in your heels. Simon doesn’t seem to mind even though this is the first time you’ve done this.

He walks you to the car, holds the door for you. Sleek and spotless, a black Jaguar — your choice for the evening. You hum in delight at the warm interior as Simon slides into the front seat.

“Oh, thank you for the compliment, by the way,” you add as he pulls into traffic. “You look quite smart as well.”

He grunts, but you notice a bit of color to his ears in the passing streetlights. You smile to yourself and busy yourself with your tablet. Double checking the reservation confirmation, answering messages from Farah and Gaz, updating Price on your ETA.

The car stops at a luxury high rise just at 7. You hop out before Simon can get the door and receive a sharp look. He holds up a reprimanding finger; blink in surprise at the sternness of it.

“You pull that shite again and I’ll handcuff you to the door handle, miss.” He warns. “Making me look bad.”

You huff, amused, and take his arm again. “Don’t threaten me, Mr. Riley, I’m meaner.”

But you squeeze his thick bicep good-naturedly as he leads you into Price’s building. Your boss lives in the penthouse at the very top; Simon has to swipe a card for access. He’s also got a key to let you both in the door, holds it so you can enter first.

It’s all sleek and modern; not at all what you would expect of your boss’s more classical style. His office has a sort of 20s Hollywood vibe (gangster, you teased once) but clearly some interior designer was paid far too much for something out of a drab minimalist catalogue.

You don’t linger long, heels clicking on the polished floors.

“Sir?” you call.

“In here, luv.”

You grimace at the flight of stairs between you and the loft, but force yourself up them. The whole floor is the mater bedroom and it’s the size of your entire apartment. Walk-in closet, sectioned off lounge with a desk. His bathroom door is open, mirror fogged. It smells like soap.

“Bedroom to your right,” he calls.

You tip-tap in and your mouth instantly dries. Price is standing in the middle of the room, half dressed. Nothing unprofessional, no. He’s wearing slacks, a belt. But he’s also in socks, a white undershirt. No watch or rings or anything yet.

It feels oddly more intimate than it should. Your face warms despite yourself.

“E-evening, sir.”

He turns and you’re utterly unprepared for just how handsome he really is. Freshly groomed, hair trimmed and gelled, eyes bright.

“Well, aren’t you just a dream,” he rasps. “You’re stunning.”

You clear your throat, know that all the makeup in the world can’t hide how brightly you’re flushing. It’s pure politeness, he’s not looking at you with anything more than friendly appreciation. Mind out of the gutter, now.

“All the flattery in the world won’t save you if we’re late,” you manage, shaking yourself back into work mode. “So let’s see what we’ve got.”

You pick his shirt, a pocket hanky, his shoes. Tell him to get into those while calling Simon up the stairs. He’s there so fast you blink in surprise, then gesture him over. Sit him on an ottoman and extract the little bottle of makeup you’ve started keeping on hand for situations like this.

“Bullshite you had that in your purse,” he scoffs.

“You remember two weeks ago, when Soap came in with that bruise on his jaw?”

They told you it was a “disagreement” at the docks. You didn’t ask further, figuring it was some sort of bar brawl in that part of town. Rowdy boys.

“Ever since, I keep a couple minis on hand for you all.”

They’re so small that you just keep them in a pocket of your purse with the rest of your makeup and the tampons. Good for emergencies like this.

“You sure you’re not a mind reader?” Simon grumbles as you gently dab it over his face.

“How would being a mind reader even help in this situation,” you scoff, patting at it with your middle finger.

Price steps out of the closet with arms out. He’s picked a waistcoat as well that you hum in approval at.

“Which cufflinks are you wearing?” you ask, turning back to Simon. He’s sitting remarkably still and stoic — reminds you of a big dog trying to maintain some dignity while getting fawned over.

“The silver and diamond.”

You make a noise of disagreement. “The gold and onyx would go better.”

A pause. You sneak a glance and are relieved to see him smirking. “I’ll wear those then. Any opinion on a watch?”

You hum again, carding through your mental catalogue. “Oh! The Bulova you wore during that meeting with Kate Laswell. You remember?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He disappears into his closet again while you lightly blend in the last touches of Simon’s coverup.

“There we are, good as new!” You declare. “Oh, and here.”

You set a couple of ibuprofen in his palm as he stands. “For the inflammation. Take with water.”

“Yes, mum,” he mumbles.

You wince. “Sorry! I’m being overbearing, aren’t I?”

He blinks, then puts a hand up. “No, no. That wasnt — I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

You don’t entirely believe him. Know that you can be a bit much when you’re on a time crunch. Especially for something like this — an important business meeting over fancy dinner. You feel like everyone’s appearance is riding on you; this is your job after all. One thing out of place and everything will fall apart and it’ll be your fault.

“Simon, go take those,” Price orders from behind.

You turn as he approaches, a similar apology all set on your tongue. Instead, he gives you a sheepish smile and offers the cufflinks.

“Bloody useless with these,” he explains. “So unless you want to spend fifteen minutes losing respect for me…”

You laugh, amused by the idea of your hyper-capable boss struggling with a bit of jewelry that cost as much as a week of work. You step in close to thread them through his sleeves, fingers nimble and sure.

“You’re not wearing cologne?” You ask, surprised.

Don’t even realize how that might sound until he arches an eyebrow at you.

“Thought you might have an opinion on that too,” he replies. “And you haven’t steered me wrong, yet.”

He shows you his modest, but impressive collection of colognes. You pluck up one, sniff, and make a face, eyes watering a bit. It’s mostly full; clearly one he doesn’t wear often and you’re grateful for it.

“That bad, eh?”

“Sir, why?” You lament, putting it back.

“Gift from an ex,” he explains.

You store that tidbit of information away for further examination. The idea of your boss in a romance. Right now you’ve got a task to focus on.

“Did they hate you that entire time?” You wonder.

He snorts. “Maybe.”

You shake your head and pick a different one. Blink in surprise and sniff again. Feel your stomach flip.

“That one?” He asks when he notices you hesitate.

“No,” you say a little too quickly, setting it down. This is a business meeting, you can’t afford to be distracted by how he’ll smell with that on his skin.

You settle on one that doesn’t make your head dizzy and your panties shamefully damp. Still feel a bit like you’re shooting yourself in the foot, though. He’s going to smell sinfully good regardless.

You leave Price to his finishing touches and have Simon help you down the stairs. Check through the notes you hurriedly collected when you realized you’d be attending this dinner.

Price comes down too soon for your poor, stupid heart. Looks like something out of a magazine or a novel or a movie or… just too good to be real, really.

“Pass inspection?” He asks.

“Barely,” you tease.

His eyes do that thing where they smile more than his mouth; how you know it’s genuine. You try not to fluster, zero in on his tie, a little crooked and loose.

“Goodness, sir,” you murmur, stepping in close. Yeah, you were right. That cologne is going to be a personal challenge all night. “How did you get along before me?”

“With bad cologne and shitty ties, apparently,” he chuckles.

You grin despite yourself, getting it secure and centered, before smoothing his vest over it. Give him a once over. Feel your stomach flip again.

“If I may say, sir, you look handsome,” you offer quietly.

“Should hope so,” he replies, voice dipping in a way that’s detrimental to the state of your panties. “You dressed me.”

You hum, reach for your usual dry, sharp humor. “I have great taste.”

Instead of scoffing, he hums in agreement. Something flickers through his eyes that you don’t dare allow yourself to daydream on.

Simon, bless him, clears his throat and draws your attention. You check the clock above the stove.

“Ah, we need to get going. I can’t walk fast in these heels.”

You slip your arm automatically into Price’s and try not to obsess over how well you two fit together.

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

[pucksandpower]

Pretty Woman Moment

Max Verstappen x wife!Reader

Summary: you have your very own Pretty Woman moment in the glittering shops of Monaco

You take a deep breath of the fresh Monaco air as you walk hand-in-hand with Max down the cobbled streets. He gives your hand a little squeeze and smiles at you. Even after all this time, his smile still makes your heart skip a beat.

You’re both dressed casually — just simple jeans and t-shirts, with caps pulled low over your faces. It’s one of the things you love most about your life here. The two of you can blend in and just be yourselves, without the glare of fame and fortune.

As you pass a small cafe, the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts out. Your mouth waters.

“I’m dying for an iced coffee,” you say longingly. “Do you mind if we stop for a quick drink?”

Max chuckles. “Of course, schatje. You stay here and keep browsing. I’ll go grab us something.”

He gives you a peck on the cheek before heading into the cafe. You watch him go, your eyes drifting down to admire his cute butt in those jeans. Yup, you’ve definitely still got it bad for him.

Humming to yourself, you continue down the street, peering in shop windows at the latest fashions.

Up ahead you spot the iconic red awnings of Cartier. On a whim, you decide to browse the opulent jewelry shop.

As soon as you enter the store, you can feel the receptionist’s eyes sweep over you, no doubt taking in your casual outfit. Her gaze lingers on your much-loved sneakers. You pretend not to notice as you begin looking at a display of gem-encrusted watches.

Moments later, a saleswoman approaches you. “May I help you find something?” The saleswoman asks in a frosty tone.

You give her a polite smile. “Just looking, thanks.”

The woman’s eyes flick to your sneakers again, and her lips press together in disapproval. Still, she gives a curt nod and stands stiffly nearby like she is waiting for you to leave.

You feel a flare of annoyance at her judgmental attitude, but brush it off. You don’t have anything to prove to her. You know who you are, sneakers and all.

As you admire a display of delicate tennis bracelets, you feel the saleswoman’s eyes on you. She hovers over your shoulder, as if worried you might steal something. You bite back an amused laugh. If only she knew the size of your jewelry collection back home. Max loves spoiling you with extravagant gifts just because.

You wander towards the case of Panthère de Cartier rings, their tiny emerald eyes glinting up at you. As you lean down to admire them, the saleswoman swoops in.

“I’m afraid those particular pieces are off limits to handle without intent to purchase,” she says crisply.

You straighten up slowly. “Of course. My apologies.”

You turn away, irritation prickling. The other salespeople eye you suspiciously too now. Pretentious snobs, you think.

Just then, the glint of your own diamond tennis bracelet catches your eye — the one Max gave you for your anniversary last year. It’s slipped partially down your wrist unnoticed. You nudge it back into place just as the first saleswoman appears at your elbow.

“Excuse me, but I believe you’re attempting to steal that bracelet,” she hisses.

You gape at her. “What? This is mine, I’ve been wearing it since I came in.”

“Likely story,” she snaps. “Jacques, could you please call security?”

A bulky guard steps forward, eyeing you distrustfully. “Let’s just take a look at that bracelet, miss.”

Mortified anger rises in you. “Absolutely not, I don’t need to prove anything to you,” you say heatedly.

The saleswoman’s expression hardens. “If you make a scene, we’ll be forced to restrain you until the police get here.”

Just then, the door opens and Max strides in, caramel-drizzled iced coffee in hand. His eyes instantly take in the situation. He steps forward, eyes blazing.

“What the hell is going on here?” He demands, voice dangerous. You’ve never seen his racing temper directed at you, though you know it lurks beneath his calm demeanor.

“It’s fine, Max, just a misunderstanding-” you start gently.

He silences you with a look, then turns his glare on the cringing salespeople. When he speaks again, his voice is lethally quiet.

“This is my wife, Y/N, and I suggest you treat her with the utmost respect. She is the most important person in my world.” Though his words are soft, they crack sharply like a whip. “Now apologize. Immediately.”

The saleswoman who accused you blanches paper-white. ���M-Mr. Verstappen, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize-”

Max holds up a hand, cutting off her stammering. His sharp features are carved from stone. “Save it. Your behavior was unacceptable. We’ll be taking our business elsewhere and you can be assured that I will be speaking to corporate.”

But the security guard blocks your path. “Just a moment. I still need to verify this bracelet did not come from our store.” He reaches out towards your wrist.

Quick as a flash, Max grabs the man’s arm, halting him. “Don’t touch her,” Max says in a low, dangerous voice. You feel a shiver run down your spine at the ice in his tone.

The security guard tries to yank his arm away, but Max holds firm. “I suggest you let us leave right now, before I call my lawyer.”

He drops the offending arm as the security guard takes several steps back, then takes your hand gently. “Come, schatje. Let’s get you home.”

Once outside, Max halts and turns you gently to face him. His handsome face is creased with concern.

“Are you okay?” He asks, brushing a lock of hair tenderly from your face. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

You lean into his touch, letting it soothe away the sting. “I’m okay now that you’re here. But Max … the way she looked at me, treated me like I was garbage just because of what I was wearing …” You trail off, throat tightening.

Max’s jaw tightens, a storm brewing in his beautiful eyes again. “She had no right to talk down to you that way. No one has the right to make assumptions and treat you like anything less than the amazing woman I know you are.”

Despite everything, you feel yourself smile slightly. No one can make you feel better like Max can but furious tremors in his fingers tell you his wrath still simmers below the surface. You squeeze his hand. “I’m okay, really. Don’t let them ruin our day.”

His expression softens as he looks down at you. “Of course. I just can’t stand to see anyone disrespecting you.” He smiles ruefully. “I may have overreacted.”

You laugh. “Just a bit. But it was gallant of you to come to my defense.” You lean up on tiptoes to kiss him sweetly.

Max wraps you in his arms. “I’ll always protect you, Y/N. I love you.”

“And I love you.” You take his hand again. “Come on, let’s go for a walk. I saw the most adorable baby swans in the harbor earlier.”

The tension eases from Max’s shoulders as you stroll together along the glittering marina. You chat and laugh, the unpleasant scene at the jewelry store already forgotten. Because nothing can touch the happiness you’ve found here, in the sun-drenched streets of Monaco, hand-in-hand with the love of your life.

***

The next evening, you and Max stride arm in arm into Cartier, looking every inch the glamorous millionaire couple that you are. You’re dressed in a slinky black gown with diamond earrings while Max cuts a sharp figure in an Armani tuxedo. The salespeople gape as you saunter in, not recognizing you as the girl from yesterday.

You head straight for the saleswoman who accused you of stealing. “Remember me?” You ask breezily.

She flushes, stammering apologies. You silence her with one manicured finger.

“Let’s start fresh, shall we?” You extend a hand. “I’m Y/N.”

“S-Suzanne,” she manages.

“Suzanne, my husband Max and I are looking to make a significant purchase tonight.” You gesture around the lavish store. “You have some beautiful pieces. Why don’t you show us some options?”

“Of course, right this way.” Suzanne leads you to a private viewing room. Hands shaking, she brings out diamond necklaces, tennis bracelets, rings — tens of millions of dollars in jewels laid across velvet.

You and Max pretend to consider each item seriously, before waving it away. “Oh no, that won’t do … this one’s not quite right either …” With each rejection, Suzanne’s smile grows tighter.

Finally you turn to her, feigning disappointment. “Well Suzanne, I’m afraid nothing here has caught my eye. It all seems a bit … subpar.”

She gapes. “S-subpar?”

“Mmhm. I think we’ll try Bulgari next. Their quality is much more superior.” You pause, tapping a finger against your chin thoughtfully.

“You know, now that I’m thinking about it, I realize this just isn’t going to work out between us.” You gesture around the store. “It’s not you, it’s me. I’m sure this is a fine jewelry store for some people with lower standards, but for me ...” You trail off, shaking your head sadly.

Suzanne is white-faced, swallowing hard. “Please, give us another chance. I’m certain we can find something to your satisfaction.”

You pretend to consider it. “Well … I suppose we could take another look.”

For the next hour, Suzanne desperately shows you their most elite pieces, diamond necklaces worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. You and Max have a gleeful time trying them on, admiring yourselves, but ultimately waving each one away.

Finally, after rejecting a spectacular €500,000 art deco diamond choker, you say airily, “You know what, Suzanne? I just don’t think Cartier is right for me. It’s been … educational, but I believe Max and I will be going now.”

As you saunter out, Suzanne calls desperately, “Please come again soon!”

You pause, looking back with a dazzling smile. “I would … but you made a big mistake. Big. Huge.”

And linking your arm through Max’s, you sashay into the balmy Monaco night, leaving the frantic saleswoman behind.

[fettuccin-e]

Just This Once

Kinktober Day 18: Squirting + Dacryphilia

Tags: Din Djarin x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv (pls wrap it before you tap it irl), fingering (r!recieving), squirting, light dacryphilia, Din being feral but also emotionally stunted (w/c: 1.7K)

A/N: Guess who fell behind on Kinktober again, womp womp. I will not give up though!! I am determined to finish, so please enjoy this Din fic that I may or may not have gotten too invested in while writing it and stay tuned for some more filth coming (and cumming hahaha) soon!! (for Kinktober I have been using this list from flightlessangelwings!)

There’s something about the coldness of space, the loneliness of it, that makes you so desperate.

When the Crest is quiet, the baby asleep, all you can feel is the vastness of the universe around you, your body cold and needy for touch. And Maker, the Mandalorian notices immediately, the way you cross and uncross your legs in the seat behind him, curling your fingers into your thighs as the stars fly past the ship. You don’t mean to be obvious, but Din always notices.

He knows how to treat you when you get like this, all needy and desperate for his touch, even when you don’t want to admit it. Din is willing to admit that you are far more than just a friend to him, but you both narrowly avoid the strength of the feelings between you both, the bond that drags you together. But still, Din knows exactly what you need, and he has absolutely no problem giving it to you.

He has you splayed across his lap, your back pressed against his chestplate, your head lolling back onto his shoulder. He’d lost his gloves the moment you’d peeled off your pants, his hands the only skin he’ll allow himself to touch you with. It’s a wonderful loophole for you, but an exercise in torture for him. He wants to feel your back pressed against his bare chest, trace his lips down your neck. Wants to feel your heartbeat against his, quick and warm and alive. 

This is the Way, he reminds himself, despite knowing, deep down, that he’s already broken something just by touching you without his gloves. But stars, how can he resist when your pretty, desperate little cunt pulses beneath his fingertips, begging for more, more, more.

He ghosts his fingers up the slick seam of your pussy, and has to hold back his own groan at the way you whine, pressing back against him as your hips twitch uncontrollably.

“Stars, you’re wet,” he grunts, pressing a thick finger into your entrance, already gaping with your need for something, anything to clutch onto. “Needed me this bad, cyar’ika?”

“‘M so- so empty, Din, fuck, it’s like,” you cut yourself off with a gasp as he starts fucking you with that one thick finger, feeling it drag across your walls. “It’s like I can’t fucking breathe without you touching me, Maker, I need it all the time, Din.” 

And it’s true. When you’d first started traveling with Din and the baby, you’d barely even noticed the loneliness. You’d been lonely your whole life, eager to escape your desolate little planet and see the stars.

But then Din had done this for the first time, when tensions had run too high, when things had gone just a little too far.

“Just this once,” he’d muttered, “Can I touch you?” he’d asked, and you’d said yes without a thought.

He’d peeled off his glove, touching your face gently, so gently with those calloused fingers. He’d laid you out on his small mattress, pressing the front of his helmet to your forehead as he let his hand roam the expanse of your body, squeezing your skin over your clothes before brushing them over your clit through your pants. When you’d jerked up and moaned, he could only let out a shaky exhale through his visor as he rubbed tight circles into it, enraptured by the way you whimpered and squirmed beneath him.

“Just once,” he kept muttering, even as he worked one, two orgasms out of your body, “just once.”

Except it happened again. And again. And again.

And now you can barely sleep without wanting, needing Din to touch you. He hasn’t fucked you; there’s an unspoken rule that he’s broken enough of the Creed for you, telling you his name, touching you like he does. You don’t question it, not when you’re the one getting fucked on his fingers until you’re in tears, ravenous for his hands on your body.

It’s like it gets worse as time goes on, your need for him. Even now, pressed against his chest as his thick thighs spread you wide for his hands, it’s like the first time. You writhe against him as he works another finger into your hot cunt, your slick covering his hand. You hump forward into them without meaning to, and you turn your head to tuck it into his cowl as he works you over.

Din fucks his fingers furiously into you, using his other arm to brace across your hips, keeping you pinned to him. He’s practically growling as he pumps his hand between your legs, crooking his fingers up to press against the spot that makes you cry so beautiful for him. He keeps his fingers pressed deep for a moment, just grinding the tips of them into that spot relentlessly and relishing in the way you cry his name so prettily.

“Din, please- oh fuck! Stars, it’s too much, it’s too much oh my- ah-” you wine, feeling tears start to build in your eyes as you edge dangerously close to that peak you need so bad.

“C’mon, mesh’la, let go for me, squeeze my fingers with this little cunt,” he growls, and fuck, you can’t even breathe as you let him work you over, making you cum so hard that you can’t do anything but gasp for air.

And Din can’t fucking take it anymore.

“Fuck, I-” you hear him say, and you turn your head to look at him, even as aftershocks wrack your body, even as his fingers stay buried inside.

“What, Din?” you whisper, and Din nearly curses at the sight of you. Your lashes are wet with tears, stars, why do you have to look at him like that? It wears at his carefully honed control, and fuck, he can practically feel it snap at the sight of you, as the feeling of you.

“Can I fuck you?” he rasps, and you hear him suck in a breath, “please let me fuck you.” You can't hold back the keening whine that leaves your mouth, and Din shivers behind you at the sound of it.

“Please,” you breathe, and Din pulls his fingers out of you without missing a beat, reaching behind you, between your bodies to pull his cock out of his pants haphazardly. You feel the hardness of it press against your lower back, and resist the urge to look. You don’t want to cross any more lines than he’s given you.

“Just this once,” he mutters, pulling your hips back over him, notching the thick head of his cock to your entrance. “Just need to feel you, once, fuck, just once,” and he pulls you down, down, letting his cock stretch you so wide, so perfect.

Months in space, just weeks of having Din touch you, stars, it’s nothing compared to this. You eyes roll to the back of your head as he settles deep inside, so fucking deep that it makes your toes curl.

“Dank farrik, that’s fucking tight-” he grunts, the hot, wet heat of your cunt pulsing around him almost making him fill you up right then and there. He bites his tongue, praying to the Maker that the pain stops him from ending this far too fucking soon.

He uses his hard, strong grip on your hips to roll you into him, grinding you down hard onto his cock. You can only take it as he punches his hips up in aborted, desperate little thrusts that grind into your sweet spot.

“Fuck, Din, it’s so big, I can’t-” you whine, but Din only growls beneath his visor, fucking up into you harder, and your head falls back onto his shoulder plate at the feeling of it. It’s so perfect, it’s everything you’ve needed, stars, how will you survive without him filling you up like this?

“Give me another one, cyare,” he mutters, and he uses one of his hands to bring his fingers to your clit, just like he did that first night. Except this time, his cock is inside you, spreading you so wide and pressing up into your g-spot with every fucking thrust in. You gasp for air, little whines punching out of your throat every time Din shoves in all the way. 

He’s a violent man, always has been, and fucking you is no exception. He fucks you like he hunts: fast, rough, fucking monstrous. Tears finally start to pour down your cheeks, and you hiccup through your moans.

“Look at you,” he rasps, “sobbing on my cock like the needy whore you are.” He doesn’t know what’s happened to him, he’s never talked like this, let alone to you. But stars, the way you moan for him has his head spinning, has words pouring out of his mouth like they’ve been trapped there all this time. “Mesh’la, squeezing me so perfect, never want to leave this perfect cunt.”

“Din, fuck, Din, I’m gonna- stars, I’m gonna-” you gasp, your hands scrabbling at the one hand he has rubbing at your swollen clit.

“C’mon, c’mon, let me feel it, need to fucking feel it-” he mutters, and oh-

You’re pretty sure you scream as you cum, but it’s hard to hear it over the ringing in your ears as you thrash in Din’s lap. You can feel him still inside you, his horrible fingers still rubbing dexterous circles into your clit as he floods your cunt with his cum. Your orgasm feels fucking endless, your thighs trying to close but still held wide by Din’s between them. 

When you finally start to hear again, the blurriness fading from your vision, you can hear Din behind you, muttering, “fuck, so beautiful, didn’t- didn’t know you could do that.”

“Do- do what?” you slur, still groggy, but as you look in front of yourself, you can see the mess you’ve made. You’d fucking squirted, your wetness drenching his thighs and the floor of the hull. The sight makes your head spin, and you hide your face in his cowl as he wraps his arms around you, hugging you close to him. The coolness of his armor is soothing to your overly-heated body.

“So good, you did so good for me, cyar’ika,” he mumbles beneath the visor. “So pretty, can’t believe- you looked so beautiful.”

You let yourself relax into his hold, and he doesn’t let you go. “Didn’t know I could do that either,” you mumble, sleep already weighing down your eyelids, exhaustion flooding your body. “We’ll have to try again later,” you mumble. “Don’t think once is enough.”

“It will never be enough,” you hear him whisper, “not with you.”

[animekpopsimp]

Genshin Men Meet Your Abusive Ex

(Trigger warning for mentions of abuse)

You're walking with your boyfriend when you see your ex, someone you never wanted to see again and your boyfriend isn't happy.

Diluc

Diluc immediately notices the way your expression changes and the way you squeeze his hand just a bit tighter. Looking where your eyes had darted to, he notices the person approaching the two of you. He's already angry because they're clearly making you upset, and the way they sneer at you when they stop in front of the two of you pisses him off.

"Well, if it isn't (Y/N)? Finally found someone who pities you enough to put up with you ." They scoffed, you look down on the ground and Diluc notices the way you're holding back tears. The sight makes Diluc want to snap, he knows who's standing in front of him, your ex. You had opened up to him about the awful way your ex had treated you, and right now Diluc was ready to start a fight right then and there.

"I think you should leave" he speaks up, his voice dripping with venom. Your ex looks over at him, a smirk on his face,

"and what are you going to do about it?" your ex speaks, as he does, he reaches an arm out to grab you. This finally causes Diluc to snap, he reaches out and grabs your ex by the wrist with a bruising grip. Your ex quickly scrambled to his feet, muttering something you couldn't understand under his breath before running off. Diluc's expression relaxed as he looked over at you,

"are you ok?" He asked in a soft voice. You nodded, a smile appearing on your face.

"I'm fine as long as you're here" you spoke. Diluc smiled as well as he pulled you into a hug.

Zhongli

As observant as he is, Zhongli immediately notices the way you tense up when your ex approaches. His expression doesn't change at all, but he's on high alert as they approach. The way you lean closer to him makes him wrap an arm around your waist.

"May I help you?" Zhongli asks, keeping his composure. Though part of him wanted to snap.

"Oh, I just saw (Y/N) and wanted to say hello" your ex responds, looking over at you with a smile. You avoid eye contact, silently hoping your ex would leave. Having enough of seeing you so uncomfortable, Zhongli decides to put an end to the situation.

"Well, I don't think they want to speak to you, maybe you should go" Zhongli tells him, his voice stern yet calm.

"Oh, I'm sure she wants to talk" your ex replies, reaching out to place a hand on your arm. However, Zhongli quickly takes action, holding his arm out in front of you.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't try to touch her, she's clearly uncomfortable" Zhongli spoke, his voice was calm, yet there was a hint of anger hidden in it. He looked at your ex with an angry expression. Your ex looked up at him, opening his mouth as if he wanted to say something. Yet after a moment, he closed it again. Without saying a word, he ran off. Zhongli pulled you closer to him, keeping you close.

Ayato

You walked next to Ayato in the streets of Inazuma, ignoring the whispers of those around you. You knew people were talking about you and your relationship with your boyfriend, but you were used to it. However, what did bother you was seeing your ex on the street. You still thought he was living in Liyue. Becoming uncomfortable, you gripped Ayato's arm, something he noticed right away. He looked around, spotting your ex approaching the two of you. Knowing who this was, your boyfriend pushed you behind him in a protective manner.

"(Y/N), is that you?" He asked as he approached you and your boyfriend. He did become nervous in Ayato's presence.

"And who are you?" Your boyfriend asked, a smile plastered on his face.

"I'm just an old friend" your ex lied, glancing over at you. You stayed hidden behind Ayato, hoping this would be over soon. Ayato became angry, knowing who this was.

"I think you should leave before things get ugly" Ayato warned your ex. That was all that your boyfriend needed to say for your ex to run off. You let out a sigh of relief as Ayato pulled you into a hug.

Cyno

It was one of the rare days when Cyno wasn't busy as usual. The two of you were spending time together, something the two of you didn't do often.

"(Y/N)! It's good to see you again!" A voice called out, it was a voice you never wanted to hear again. You tried to ignore it, but a moment later you felt a hand on your shoulder, catching you both off guard. Cyno frowned, pushing the hand off your shoulder. Your boyfriend turned to face your ex, a harsh expression appearing on his face. He didn't even need to say anything, just the sight of Cyno caused your ex to run off. You laughed, continuing your day with Cyno.

Neuvillette

You stopped as soon as you saw your ex on the streets of Fontaine, causing Neuvillette to do the same. He looked back at you confused, growing worried when he saw the expression on your face. He looked around, soon spotting your ex. Knowing who he was, your boyfriend became angry. Knowing who this was, Neuvillette glared at your ex as soon as he made contact with him. That's all it took for your ex to run off, leaving the two of you alone.

[hello-sweetheart]

You know that trope where Person A thinks Person B is just being nice but they’re actually flirting. What about the opposite? Person A misreading their behavior and being the only one falling impossibly in love.

Clumsy in Love part 4

Eddie rubs his hands over his face and presses the heels of his palm into his eyes.

Im such a piece of shit. God, how could I just do that.

He’s pissed at Steve for not saying something sooner, for waiting until Eddie had something good in his grasp. But he’s angry with himself too.

How stupid is he, really? Did he really not notice until it all came face to face?

He has Adiel’s number memorized, but he knows which of Steve’s beauty marks form constellations.

Mostly, hes confused. His feelings are a jumbled mess and he’s never been good at sorting them out. Naturally, he turns to music. Dio has serenaded him these past few days. Wayne has steered clear of his shit show.

How do you feel right now?

What do you see?

Where would you be right now?

Hey angel what about me?

Jesus fucking fuck. He attempts to run his hand through his hair only it doesn’t get too far, rings snagged in his tangled hair. He can feel the oil built up on the strands and knows it’s time to get his ass out of bed. He doesn’t.

“Angel, Angel, angel. You were my angel. Just not anymore.” He mutters to himself long after the track has finished and another song plays. He’s learning to let go still, even after he’s ended it.

You know what really makes him feel like a dickhead? That Adiel got hurt because of him. He didn’t deserve to get caught in Eddie’s bullshit.

Guilt eats him alive.

His conscious hurts and his heart trembles, tumbled in his chest, but he doesn’t feel the heartbreak the way he should. That world-on-fire and breath burning feeling. He can’t find it.

Like a masochist he wants for it, desires it, deserves it like sinner.

Those last few weeks were enough for his feelings to settle, for his heart to make a decision with or without his input. He tried—god fuck I tried—to feel that skipped-beat flutter when Adiel smiled his way. Could almost convince himself he could. That Adiel’s interlocked hand in his still felt an extension of himself instead of something foreign.

It used to feel like I belonged at his side. Why did it have to stop?

He’s wronged a friend who trusted him to keep his heart safe. A friend who had already been through so much. And Eddie added to that lifetime of hurt because he couldn’t figure it out himself.

Because he was too stupid to see and too stupid to know.

He thinks of Steve’s lips, like he has now for days. Weeks. His heart twists, rung out. That skipped-beat flutter that betrays him.

Fuck. Fuck, man.

He has to stop yanking at his hair like he can train himself out of feeling it.

Do your demons, do they ever let you go?

When you've tried, do they hide, deep inside

Is it someone that you know?

You're just a picture, you're an image caught in time

We're a lie, you and I.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he tells no one because he needs to say it until he can forgive himself a little. Until he can make himself believe that Adiel will forgive him, in time.

“I’m so sorry,” this time says it to himself, covers his face with his hands and finally cries.

Against his fucking will he cries, can’t hold onto it anymore. Ugly retching sobs that can only come from mourning an almost.

Finally, after days of like solitude, Wayne creeps in un-intrusive as a shadow. His hand on his shoulder may be the only thing that keeps Eddie from disappearing.

“I could’ve loved him, Wayne. I could’ve—I did. I think I fucking loved him and I didn’t know until—until I didn’t anymore. And then—and then I just couldn’t again.”

I wish he got to know that. That even for a short time, I had loved him.

Wayne, ever a man of few words, sits with him and lets him have his silence.

———

It’s a little over a month after that that Steve pays him a visit.

He’s smart enough to show up when Wayne isn’t home, looking sheepish as he shuffles on his front step. At least he has the gall to look him in the eyes.

All this is because of you, he thinks. His dark under eyes, his pallid skin. The rage in his blood. The almost that he had.

“Why are you here?” He looks taken aback, almost shrinks in on himself.

“I… the boys said that you, well.” Steve rubs the back of his neck, his hair longer than when Eddie last saw it. It slips through Steve’s fingers. “You never came by again and I wanted to see you. To talk? Can we talk? Can’t… can’t I come in?”

Having Steve in his home, in his space, is dangerous.

Those eyes are deep, soften by tired shadows.

“No,” his swallow is audible and steels himself, “Why should I want you in my home, Steve?”

Steve stands there lips parted and hands clenches at the bottom of his sweatshirt, eyes shined over. Eddie takes the chance to step forward. Everything inside him is too much.

“Don’t you understand what you did? I was happy. And you, fuck, you ruined it! Steve! You!” He out of the door way now and Steve steps back, back, back.

Steve’s face is red in shame. Eddie’s in anger. His pointed finger jabbed at his chest, accusing.

“You couldn’t just let me be happy? Why? Why did you kiss me, Steve? Why then? Was it because you couldn’t stand that I finally had someone? Say something!”

Steves eyes overflow, “Yes! I could stand it because I love you, asshole! I thought, I don’t know—I thought you loved me, too. Okay? Me. We both felt it—tell me you felt it too, Eddie? It wasn’t just me, right?

“You were everywhere and everything. You’d smile at me and it was the sun. So close, always right there and it was like we were—we were teetering on the edge of something amazing. And I was so happy, Eddie. So happy that day ‘cuz I thought, it was just us, right? Me and you. Just us. Together.

“But then you saw him and your weren’t even listening to me. You didn’t hear a word I said, did you? You only had eyes for him. You left me there and I didn’t know what to do with myself ‘cuz suddenly all you’d talk about was him. Every day and every minute we were together. After thinking, after thinking you loved me too.

That I had you.

So yes! Okay? I kissed you because I was selfish and I needed to know. I needed to know if any of it was real. If there really was nothing there.”

Steve’s breathing hard by the end of, words a wavering wet string of rawn vulnerable pulled out of his chest. He’s looking at the floor, hair covering his eyes, and shoulders trembling as he hiccups.

Then, everything feels still. Calm inside. For the first time in ages, Eddie feels like he can take a deep breath and not fall apart. He closes his eyes for a second and just breathes. The fight escapes him with the last breath.

“You ruined me, Steve. You ruined me in a way that even I didn’t understand. I didn’t know, not until that night, about how you felt. And I’m sorry if it was my fault, if I did and said things to make you feel that way, okay? But I didn’t… I didn’t feel that way about you. Not then. Not when you kissed me.”

“And now? Eddie? Do you… could you feel that way for me, now?”

“If it weren’t for you,” he begins, “Adiel and I… we could’ve had something great. But then you—and I— I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I wondered so much on why you kissed me that night, replaying every moment together, to see what you saw. And ended up feeling… feeling what you felt.”

He takes the chance to move forward the last bit of space to reach to him, have him look him in the eyes. Both of them mirror images of despair.

“You ruined me, Stevie. Everything was different. It wasn’t perfect anymore, I couldn’t make it perfect again. And I couldn’t be who I had been with Adiel knowing that I couldn’t find in me what we had before. That maybe, this has the chance of being something amazing, too.

I stopped seeing you everyday, so I saw you in everything. I stopped speaking to you, and you became the voice inside my head. It was maddening.”

Eddie laughs and wipes away the tears from Steve’s eyes, they fall faster when he smiles a weak and small but real thing.

“Adiel and I, we fit together; we were good together. But despite that, I didn’t want him anymore. I didn’t know why, I think I still don’t, but… I don’t need to know. I just need feel it, Stevie. And I feel it. I want this. Me and you. You have throughly ruined me, for anybody else.”

This time the kiss is different. It’s shared elation, wet and salty on the tongue, and clumsy as they try to fit into each other. Disappear in one another.

“Are you still mad?”

Those brown eyes don’t resemble gems of green, but they’re filled with incredible warmth and Eddie sees home in them,

Sees a life with them,

It’s own kind of precious.

And he laughs.

“So much, Stevie. I’m mad and heartbroken and falling jn love and happy and so so sure of us. I think, I think I still need some time, I’m really fucked—no, no, shouldn’t cry anymore,” he says as Steve’s face scrunches and it’s so unbelievably cute if he wasn’t blaming himself for it all.

“I just want to make sure I do this right this time. And if I, if I invite you in… I won’t be able to.”

Steve rests his forehead against his, there is heat between them, “But I have you, right?”

“Yeah, took me a while to figure it out but… yeah. Yes. You have me, Steve. God, and I have you. And tomorrow, tomorrow you’re going to come over and pick me up at 6 in the evening so we can eat shitty pancakes at the diner.

And then we’ll figure this out together.”

Part 3 <💛 End, thank you for reading and for all the feedback!

[enhafilthandfiction]

I'm not a Perv, just Crushing on you - Yang Jungwon ☆

A/N : Here is the ask for this post. I love this idea lmao had to turn it into a fic! Tbh it's probably one of my favourite fics 🤭🤭

Summary : Your brother's best friend might seem like a pervert, but he's not. He just likes you a little too much not to look down your shirt. What happens when he gets jealous of a guy you flirted with at your family's get together party?

Pairing : BrothersBestFriend!Junwon X Fem!Reader

Warnings : Shy Jungwon and reader, mentions of Jungwon being slightly pervy, teasing, first shared kiss, Confession from Jungwon, groping, unprotected sex, Jungwon unzipping reader's dress, grinding, slight fingering, cumming inside, slight pillow talk? and hints of another round at the end. Enjoy ;)

Word Count : 2.5K Words

Masterlist

Jungwon didn't expect you to be here. Not at a stupid annual family get together party. He's been forced to attend to this party all these years yet he's never seen you around. How come you're attending now? All of a sudden? Maybe this party wasn't as bad after all.

He eyes you from the distance. You were his best friend's sister, the girl that he happens to have a crush on. The first time he saw you was at your house, the first time he came over to game with your brother. Your older brother, Sunghoon, had mentioned you before, but when Jungwon saw you for the first time- fuck, he wasn't even focused on the game anymore.

You were everything he'd ever dreamed of. Cute and shy with blushed cheeks as you introduced yourself. Voice delicate and soft, eyelashes batting up at him. He knew you were going to be the death of him.

That day he kept getting excuses. "Uh Sung, may I use the restroom?" he had asked, hoping to bump into you in the corridors or something. With the go ahead of your brother, he'd made it out of the room and was left alone to wander, luckily finding your room on his first try.

He was also pretty shy himself, gently opening your door pretending he was lost. "Uh h-hi, I got lost tryna find the bathroom" he blurts out under his breath catching your attention. You look up and smile, getting off your bed and leading him to the bathroom. That's when he thanked you and a little conversation sparked. Who knew that wouldn't be the only conversation between the two of you?

Jungwon knew it was bad. Against the bro-code or whatever. But he didn't care. He had to have you. The next day he was brave enough to text you, easily finding you from your brother's 'following list' on insta. You were delighted as you accepted his follow request and headed to the messages section to find that he'd sent you a message.

From then, he had started hitting on you, hinting his crush on you and trying to get closer but still keeping it lowkey to your brother. All these months he'd kept it all inside of him because he wasn't sure if you fancied him back and feared that you would tell you brother.

You never really seemed to lead him on; until summer. Without no school he started coming over way more than usual. And you started liking him. You've started noticing how cute he looked with messy hair after he's crashed your home couch or how he bit his lower lip in concentration as he tried to beat your brother in Mario Cart.

You started wearing low cut tops around him just to show off your cleavage or shorter shorts just so that your ass hangs out a little. It was driving Jungwon insane. You new it. He would only take one glance at you and look away, cheeks flushed as he swallows.

But he was a slight pervert too. You'd catch him look your way at some point, then look away real quick, hoping you didn't notice. But you did. You have been all along. You were finally understanding all those texts from him. He had been hitting on you.

Which is why now, after hearing you brother say that he's going to meet up with Jungwon at this boring party, you weren't going to miss the opportunity. You put on your favourite dress and put down your hair and got ready for the party. Which is why now

He eyes you from the distance. He notices what you wore and wonders if you wore that dress just for him. He notices your gorgeous smile and he smiles too, until he sees why you're smiling.

Kim Jong-fucking-hoo. That dude from school. He was in Jungwon's class the past years and he's always been a bully. You shouldn't be talking to him. Mainly because you should be talking to Jungwon but also because Jonghoo is a bad influence.

You notice Jungwon from the corner of your eye and as you look to the side you offer him a little smile, only to turn back to the other guy. Jungwon wonders what he should do. He knows you're teasing him by the way you keep glancing at him but he's not sure if he should approach you.

That's until you place your arm on Jonghoo's biceps, laughing about something that wasn't exactly funny. Jungwon looses it. He makes his way over to you both and snatches you away from that jerk.

"She's my girlfriend" is the only excuse Jungwon brings up when the other dude complains when he takes you away. His grip on your hand is strong as he leads you up the strairs, not really sure where he's going.

"Woah woah, slow down Won" he loves it when you call him that. "Where are we going?" you ask, eyes wide "Also, I'm not your girlfriend!". He sighs and walks you into the nearest room he finds which happens to be someone's bedroom. He locks the door behind you two and faces you.

"Why were you teasing me?" he asked you eyebrows furrowed. Before you can say anything he cuts you off "Don't pretend you weren't. You have been all this time. The shirts and the shorts and, and the texts-"

You look down almost in shame but then remember that he's been noticing and looking this whole time. "So you are a little bit perverted huh? If you weren't you wouldn't be looking at my shirts and shorts all the time" you accused crossing your arms.

He sighs to himself and without thinking he just says what he has to say "I'm not a pervert y/n, I just kinda.. like you" he blurts out with difficulty. You almost think he's messing around until he says it again. "I mean, you've probably noticed I've been hitting on you all this time so it shouldn't be a surpris-"

You cut him off, pressing your lips onto his and pushing him up against the wall. Your arms move all over him, making sure it's not a dream. He kisses you back eagerly after he gets over the little shock.

He pulls away for a quick second "Wait, so you like me back?" he ask out of breath. You nod and desperately connect again, your lips on his. This time he places his hands on your hips and flips you, so that you're the one against the wall. You smile into the kiss already enjoying this new side of him.

You place your hands on his biceps and feel how firm they are. Who would've thought that your brother's shy best friend was buff? As your mind started wondering what he could do to you with his strength, he places his hands right below your ass, picking you up.

You wrap your legs around his waist and as if he read your mind, he walks you to the bed. He chuckles as he places you down on it gently, and as you're settling in he takes off his shirt. A new chuckle leaves his lips as he sees you staring, but he doesn't want to embarrass you.

He climbs onto the bed atop of you and decides to kiss you again. During the kiss, he grabs your hand and places it somewhere near his abs. When you pull away for breath he sits up on his knees, your hand still against his abs. "You can touch, you know?" he smiles, loving the way you're so mesmerized by his abs. Guess the gym with Sunghoon was worth it.

You catch him staring at the cleavage of the dress, almost undressing you with his eyes. "Here I'll take it off" you say, offering a little smile. You get off the bed but as you stand you realise you won't be able to reach the zipper yourself.

"Uhh, mind if you unzip me?" you ask shyly, awkwardly waiting for him to unzip your dress. His face brightens at your request. He gets behind you and runs his hands along your back before finding the little zipper, lowering it slowly.

Once unzipped, he places his hands into the dress, around your waist. You let the straps of the dress fall from your shoulders, the garment finally falling to the floor at your ankles.

You let your intrusive thoughts win as you take a step back and angle your ass out, subtly grinding on him. "Fuck" is all he can mumble under his breath before grinding back into you, his hands on your hips, fucking your clothed pussy.

"P-please Won, need you i-inside" you whine. He already felt good clothed, just imagine how he'd feel deep inside you. He obliges, with his hands still on your hips, he turns around, making you rest your hands on the mattress.

With just your hands at the edge of the bed supporting you, you were at his mercy. He leans down, his chest against your back, pecking the back of your neck with little kisses. Then when he actually realises this is about to happen he realises that he doesn't have any rubbers on him.

"Uh y/n, I wasn't really prepared and I uh- I don't have a condom on me" he says shamefully. You just wriggle your ass against him teasingly.

"It's fine, I wanted you to cum inside anyway" you admit, making him curse under his breath. He could've sworn he felt his dick twitch at your statement.

Without thinking twice, he slid down his pants along with his underwear, his cock springing up almost against his abdomen. You couldn't help but turn around to take a look, your gaze making him blush. You were right, a pretty boy must have a pretty cock.

"Shit, you're so big" you compliment "Can't wait to have it in me" you giggle as you notice it twitch. He breathes in, his face feeling too warm. When you turn back around and wriggle your ass again, he knows he shouldn't waste more time.

He presses two of his fingers against your clit circling around before sliding down your lips, rubbing you over your soaked panties. The way you squirm around makes him want more, suddenly sliding your panties to the side so he could really admire your glistening core.

"You're so fucking wet" he curses under his breath when he lets his fingers ghost over your now-bare pussy. And you were wet, drenched actually. You were so wet for him that it felt like you were menstruating or something. But it was only arousal for him.

He experimentally dipped one of his fingers into you, wanting to see how tight you actually were. He sucked in a breath as he realised you're way tighter than he had imagined. Impatient, he pulled his fingers out gently, bringing them to his mouth before sucking them clean.

"You taste so good" he notes, licking your arousal off his fingers. "If I wasn't so desperate to fuck you I'd eat you out right now" but he was too needy at the moment and his dick almost started hurting with neglect.

"Ready?"

"Mhm" you hum back, mentally preparing yourself to finally take your brother's best friend after all this time.

He breathes in as he moves your panties to the side, giving himself a few strokes before pushing his red tip into your entrance. Even that was already big enough for you, already clenching around the little he gave you.

"Stop clenching like that y/n or I'll cum" he warned, not wanting to ruin it for both of you. You tried your best to just relax and take all of him, shutting your eyes tight at the slight sting of him pushing inside.

It's not like you were a virgin or anything, but he was probably the biggest you've ever taken so far. You sigh out in union as he finally stills inside you, letting you adjust to his size a little bit before starting to actually fuck you.

You were making it a little difficult for him to stay still, your cunt squeezing him like it has its own mind. "C-Can I please move?" he asks, hoping you'd give him the green light.

"P-please" you plead, squeezing around him one more time. He grips your hips tightly, starting to fuck into you. His eyes shut tightly as he gets lost in the way you feel. Fuck, this was a million times better than his stupid fist.

"Mm, you, you feel s-so good around me" he stutters in pleasure, the pressure on his dick making it difficult for him to speak. He tried to calm himself down, not wanting to cum too quick and ruin it for the both of you. But with the way you kept squeezing him in, gripping him like a vice, it was almost impossible.

His hips start snapping against yours, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room for a few moments. "A-ah Won, fucking me so good" you praise, trying your best to speak. He was just so deep in you, and so so close.

He dipped his head forward, lips pressing kissing along your back to the back of your neck, making you moan out for him. You could feel him squeeze your hips as you clenched around him, trying to ground himself.

"Shit Y/n, I-I'm close" he warned, almost embarrassed at how fast he's cumming,

But you weren't so far behind either. "S-same" you manages out, vision hazy as your orgasm approached you. His brows furrowed in focus, picking up his pace a little and chasing his orgasm.

When he felt right at the edge, he placed his fingers on your clit, wanting to cum together. With just a few triggering rubs on your clit, you were clenching around him, your arms giving out as you creamed all over his cock.

With a few more of your squeezes he was cumming too, hot spurts of his release filling you up. All he could do was curse under his breath before pulling out gently and laying beside you breathlessly.

You rolled onto your back, your arms now touching. You had already regained your breath a little, having finished before him. "You okay Won?" you asked, checking up on him. But he wasn't quite back yet. He interlaced his pinky finger to yours to show you that he's heard you, before sighing out.

His eyes suddenly open and he turns to his side, facing you. "How was it? Did you feel good?" he asked, wanting to make sure you're satisfied.

"Amazing actually" you replied, smiling to yourself.

He sighed contently and closed his eyes again until you speak once more. "I can still feel your cum inside me" you mumble, feeling it trickle out of your hole.

"Fuck, don't say things like that or you'll make me pop another boner" he warns.

"Maybe I want that" you smile cheekily. "How about we go shower?" you ask hopefully, an evil grin on your face.

"Oh yeah, I'm definitely going to get another boner"

Thankyou for reading to the end! I hope you enjoyed it :D Have a good day/night and remember that ily! <333

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Falling Asleep on Them

SUMMARY: How would they react to you falling asleep on them?

CHARACTERS: Demon Brothers (Lucifer; Mammon; Leviathan; Satan; Asmodeus; Beelzebub & Belphegor)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Bullet Points

WORD COUNT: An average of 240 words per character.

COMMENTS: I wanted to do Belphie's part like the others but it ended up being shorter and you'll see why. Just a little bullet points' list. But I hope you enjoy. ⭐️

⭐️ Falling Asleep on Them 2 - Side Characters

CONTEXT: This takes place in the original time-line of Obey Me! One master to rule them all! So you live with them in the House of Lamentation.

You were probably helping Lucifer with his paperwork in his office.

Taking a break to rest a little and drink tea, you sit down in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace. He lets you sit on his lap if you want.

With so much paperwork, your head started to hurt a little and Lucifer suggests that you put your head on his shoulder and rest your head.

You were so comfortable that you ended up falling asleep.

When he notices, he smiles sweetly. He sees this as a way of showing how good you feel with him. Comfortable and safe.

He caresses your cheek. He thinks you're so cute. If you have long hair, he will stray it away from your face.

He will pick you up in his arms and take you to your bedroom.

If you are still dressed in your clothes, he will remove your shoes and accessories that you may have, leaving you with only your shirt and pants to make you more comfortable.

He leaves a note next to you saying "Don't worry, I'll finish the rest of the paperwork. Thank you. Good night, my love."

He kisses you on the forehead and leaves your bedroom.

After he finishes his work and before he goes to bed, he will stop by your room one last time to check on you. If you are awake and invite him to sleep with you, he will gladly accept.

You were watching a movie with Mammon in his bedroom. It was a calm film, perhaps even a little romantic.

You were snuggled up to each other. It was a calm film, perhaps even a little romantic. You were snuggled together, the lights were off, all the conditions were in place for you to fall asleep on him.

Me realizes you're asleep when he whispers something to you about the movie and you don't respond. He looks at you and listens carefully, your breathing is the slow breathing of someone who is sleeping.

If your head starts to fall forward, he will quickly catch it.

He'll be a little unsure of what to do, because he wants to take you to bed, but to do that he has to move, but he doesn't want to wake you up.

He manages to take you in his arms without waking you up and considers taking you to your bedroom. But he would have to go up those stairs in his bedroom and that could be dangerous.

He ends up laying you on his bed. You were already in your pajamas. He goes to lie down on the couch, but before that he admires you sleeping. He wants to kiss you so much, but he doesn't want to wake you up, so he gives you a light kiss on the cheek.

And he takes a photo (or a few) of you sleeping in his bed before going back to the couch.

He ends up sleeping on the couch. Unless you wake up in the middle of the night and invite him to sleep with you.

You were hanging out with Levi in his room, late at night, and ended up staying next to him watching him play a game.

It was a cute and very peaceful game. Then you laid your head on his shoulder, which already made him blush, and meanwhile you fell asleep.

He realizes you're asleep when he sees one of your hands slide lazily across your lap.

He panics a little. He needs to pick you up and take you to bed, but he can't wake you up. He needs a plan.

He does everything possible and impossible to hold you in his arms without waking you up. You look so cute when you sleep that waking you up now would be like breaking the most beautiful thing in the world.

He uses his tail to open and close his bedroom door and yours. He also uses it to adjust your bed.

He will put you in bed with the utmost care, and will slowly take a step back to make sure he didn't wake you up.

Seeing that you continue to sleep peacefully, he will watch you as if he idolizes you. And will take a bunch of photos to use as his wallpapers.

Maybe he fell asleep in your room while looking at you. You can always invite him to sleep with you if you wake up in the middle of the night.

You and Satan were reading books in his room. You were cuddled up to each other when you fell asleep.

He realized that you had fallen asleep when he saw the book you were holding slowly fall from your lap.

He quickly marked the page you were on with one of his fingers before the book closed for then place a kitten marker on it. He does the same with his book, trying not to move too much so as not to wake you.

The two of you were practically already lying on his bed and taking you to your room, at the risk of tripping over a book, would be dangerous. So instead, he tucks you into his bed.

As he has a single bed, he ends up leaving you alone in bed so you can be more comfortable.

But before he goes, he looks at you, appreciating you under the moonlight. You were so beautiful. He kisses your cheek softly and goes to the armchair.

He ends up falling asleep in the armchair, facing you because he was alternating between reading his book and looking at you sleeping.

You can always invite him to sleep with you if you wake up in the middle of the night. He will accept it for sure.

You and Asmo were having a super relaxing beauty treatment. Asmo almost fell asleep too, but managed to stop himself from doing so.

He notices that you are very still and silent and calls out to you in a sweet, low voice. He notices that you are very still and silent and calls out to you in a sweet, low voice. But you don't respond, and that's how he realizes you've fallen asleep.

He immediately jumps up from where he was sitting or lying down and approaches you to watch you for a bit. OMG you are so cute! he has to take some pics! Some just with you, others with him next to you and kissing you on the face softly, so as not to wake you up.

Well, he's not very strong, but he needs to get you to bed, or at least a bed. So the furthest he can take you without the risk of waking you up is to his bed.

Although his bed is large, it is a single bed. However, he has no other place to sleep. I mean, he won't sleep in a chair or armchair, that would ruin his beauty sleep. But he also doesn't want to sleep with you without knowing if you would accept it.

So, at great cost because he finds you adorable in your sleep, he wakes you up with soft kisses and saying your name sweetly. And he will ask you if he can sleep with you or if you prefer to go to sleep in your room.

You probably did a lot of physical exercise with Beel. Either you went for a walk in a place with steep terrain, or played a sports game together, something you liked or didn't mind doing with him.

Practicing this type of physical activity together can greatly strengthen a relationship, which is why he really wanted to do something with you. Whatever it was, it ended up being exhausting for you.

If your legs were sore, he carried you back home in his arms.

You two take a shower and go to his and Belphie's room to rest together. But your feet still feel sore, and when you mention this to Beel, he offers to give them a massage.

You two still chat  a little, but your tiredness mixed with Beel's massage makes you relax until you fall asleep.

He realizes you've fallen asleep when you stop responding to him. He looks at you sleeping and smiles, thinking that you're really cute.

He easily picks you up and takes you to your bed. He's used to doing the same thing with Belphie, but in your case, he's much more careful not to wake you up.

He lays you down on the bed and really wants to kiss you goodnight on the forehead.

If he wakes you up with his kiss, he'll feel a little bad and apologize. And this will be your opportunity to invite him to sleep with you if you want.

I mean, how could you not fall asleep on Belphie? He loves to sleep and more than that he loves to snuggle and cuddle with you. So that's how you end up falling asleep most of the time and he just sleeps with you.

But if somehow, he's awake on the couch and you fall asleep on his shoulder while he's distracted on his D.D.D. or something, he will... lay you down on the couch and sleep with you.

He won't bother taking you to a bed and will definitely use the fact that you've already fallen asleep to sleep right there with you.

If you want to sleep in a bed, you will have to wake up and wake him up so you can go to your bed. And of course he will ask if he can continue sleeping with you in your bed.

No matter where you fall asleep, he will simply lie down next to you and sleep with you.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[tarot-by-tabitha]

PICK A CARD: What made you stands out from others?

Hello everyone 💫 in this reading you’ll explore what makes you uniquely stand out from others. Whether it’s your personality, hidden qualities, how others perceive you etc. this reading will help you to understand yourself better and what sets you apart from others.

For this pick a pile I’m using tarot cards, Lenormand, wild unknown archetypes oracle, uncover your past lives oracle, life purpose oracle and work your light oracle.

How can you choose your pile accurately?

1. Pick a pile: take a deep breath, relax and choose a picture that calls out to you the most.

2. Once you’ve picked your pile, scroll down to your reading🫶

I also really appreciated feedback!

Please note: this pick a card reading is a collective reading. While the insights may resonate deeply, please take the reading with a grain of salt and always trust your own judgement when making decisions 💫

✨If you like my readings you can tip me here or paypal.me/TabithaSky13

Want a personalised and in depth reading? 🔮 You can find it here

Pile 1

Cards: 6 of pentacles, 7 of pentacles rx, The Underworld, Stork, Healer, Boundaries

Your core traits: So pile 1.. I sense here at the core you’re a person with natural generosity. You like to give to others without expecting too much in return but you want it to be fair, you still know boundaries. I’m seeing that people are drawn to you because you have a sense of equality, you’re the one who always makes sure everyone is taken care of and no one is left out. You’re the kind of persons who everyone goes to because you’re just accepting of everyone. I’m sensing a libra placements for some of you here.

With 7 of pentacles rx I’m sensing that you also might struggle with impatience. You want to see results quickly especially when you’re investing your time and energy into people or situations. Sometimes you feel that you’re putting lots of effort without getting much back. It could be in job, school or relationships and you questioned if all you hard work is really worth it. It’s natural to feel frustrated but this also shows how much you care about others and about things working out fairly at the end. You don’t give up easily and others notice this resilience of you and it’s something that earns you lot of a quiet respect, even if you feel like things are moving slowly, people around you see how dedicated you are and your persistence is something they admire.

your hidden strength: With The Underworld card I’m seeing that you’re not afraid to face darker or more difficult aspects in life. Among many people who avoid tough conversations, you’re the one who’s there for others when things get hard. When your friends face tough times and others might choose to distance themselves, but instead you stand by the . It makes you incredibly unique. People around you see that you don’t shy away from challenges. They’re drawn to your strength in those moments. You have ability to sit with people in their pain and help them feel understood, which is something that not everyone can do. You know how to stay up to date with modern looks too and you’re versatile with your style.

how others see you: Stork card is a sign of growth and transformation. I’m seeing that you’re kind of person who don’t stay stagnant or get stuck with old habits. You constantly grow. People who don’t see you for a long time and when they see you they’ll notice how much you’ve changed or grown. People see that you’re always moving forward. This makes you stand out because you inspire people to grow as well.

I’m also seeing that people who choose pile 1 have eyes that exudes friendliness, well groomed and others seem you as graceful. Some of you also have magnetic energy too, strong, intense eyes that pulls others on, you have a brooding charm. You could also have a confident and self assured demeanor that enhances your attractiveness, you look composed and in control.

how your past life influence you now: In past life I’m seeing that you might have been someone who cared for others, you might be a healer, midwife or herbalist. That nurturing energy has carried over into your current life. Today, people see you as someone who knows how to comfort others and offer advices to them. Even without you realizing it, just with your presence can heal those around you. You are the kind of person who makes others feels better just by being there. This isn’t something everyone has, you have energy that makes people feel safe and understood which is why people are naturally drawn to you.

how can you embrace your uniqueness: Boundaries card remind you while you’re amazing at helping others you also need to protect your own energy. This is important because as much as people value your support, you can sometimes give too much. Setting boundaries makes you even more impressive because it shows that you know your worth. People respect you even more when they see that you know when to say “no” and when to prioritise you own well being. You have a courage to set boundaries when necessary though and it sets you apart.

Random signs that might resonates with you: Libra moon, Scorpio rising, Capricorn mars, Pisces sun, Sagittarius in big 6, Virgo in big 6, anime, someone might have Native American descendants, white clothes, likes wearing necklaces with pearl, wealthy hence likes sharing with others.

Pile 2

Cards : 5 of Swords, Death, The Kiss, Moon, Nature Worship, Support

Your core traits: Pile 2, at the core you are someone who’s transformative and resilient in challenges. I see that you’ve been through many conflicts and struggles but instead of breaking you, those challenges made you grow stronger. What sets you apart is your ability to move through endings and new beginnings freshly. You don’t fear changes. Instead you embrace it because you know it’s necessary for your growth. People notice how you always rise from difficult situations even when others might give up.

I’m seeing some of you have been leaving a toxic job and relationships, and you take that as a lesson instead of dwelling on sadness and you entered a better relationships, getting in better and more supportive jobs, you’re becoming stronger. People admire you for your courage and strength.

Your hidden strength: The Kiss card here is about emotional depth and passion. You stand out because you have intense and magnetic charm, that people can’t help but notice. You might be someone who forms deep and passionate connections with others. You are not the type who’ll get into relationship that are surface level. One night stand, friends with benefits thingy are just not you. You dive deep. When you care about someone, they feel it in every word and action.

I’m seeing that you might have sensual or romantic aura that draws people to you. You’re someone who leave a lasting impression even after only brief interaction, wheter through kind words, meaningful gesture or simply just making someone feel seen. You’re full of genuine passion.

How others see you: With Moon card, you’re a dreamer and you have mysterious quality about you. People might not always understand you fully but that’s what makes you even more intriguing. You have natural intuition and emotional intelligence that others recognise even if they can’t quite put their finger on it. Your mysterious side makes people curious and keeps them interested, wanting to get to know you more.

I’m seeing also for some of you, you guys have creative and imaginative side. You’re good at art, music and experessing yourself and it makes you unique. You think outside of the box and kind of unpredictable making people curious of you.

How your past life influences you now: In your past life, you likely had deep connection to nature and spirituality. This connection still influences you in this life. You might be someone who are drawn to nature, animals or simple and peaceful environments. You bring kind of stillness to people around you and that rare gift in today’s fast paced world. This past life influence gives you wisdom that make others feel safe and grounded when they’re around you.

how can you embrace your uniqueness: One of your unique gifts is your ability to help others even when you’re going through your own challenges. You’re naturally supportive and you’re the person people turn to when they need advice or helping hand. Embracing this supportive role will allow you to stand out even more because it’s part of who you are.

You don’t need to be in spotlight to have an impact, whether it’s listening to a friend, offering advice or just being there for others , people see you as someone they can count on.

Random signs that might resonate with you: Scorpio sun/moon, Pisces moon/venus, Taurus rising, Virgo Venus, 12H placements, good singing, picnic, rooftop, someone visited Japan, number 4, wearing cute clothes

Pile 3

Cards: The Wheel, 9 of Chalices, Apocolypsis, Man, Injustice, Pleiades

Your core traits: you are someone who moves with flow of life and you know how to embrace highs and lows of life. You have sense of inner fullfilment. You know how to be happy and enjoy life even by just being by yourselves. You believe that no matter what happens you know things will work out in your favour. You’re the person who stay calm even though plans or event change unexpectedly. While others freak out over this, you just stay calm and trust that life will sort itself out. You’re that person who manages to see the silver lining and that positivity rubs off on everyone around you. Your lighthearted yet grounded energy makes people remember you.

Your hidden strength: what people might not see right away is your deep ability to uncover the truth. You have hidden talent to dig deep into situations, getting to root of issues and reveal things that others might miss. You’re able to read between the lines in conversations. Maybe someone trying to hide their true feelings but you could sense it instantly. Or when situation seemed confusing, you could see the bigger picture clearly. This ability makes you stand out because you see things that others don’t.

How others see you: when people first see you, they immediately see you as someone reliable and a natural leader. There’s something about your energy that makes people feel secure around you. You have a presence that commands respect and others feel like they can count on you. You’re likely the person in friend group or family who’s always there when someone needs help. If things go wrong people know they can call you because you know how to take care of things practically. Even when you’re not trying to be in charge people naturally look up to you because they trust your judgement.

You’re an approachable person and you’re confident. You have a warm and inviting smile. You’re not the type to flaunt your looks but you carry that grounded, confident and commanding energy. You have a blend of softness and strength.

How your past life influences you now: in past life, you faced deep injustice either you experienced it firsthand or you were someone who fought against it. This influences you in this life to have strong sense of right and wrong. You likely stand out because of your fairness and desire to make things right. You might find yourself defending others who are being treated unfairly or maybe you can’t stand it when you see something that feels off in terms of justice. People admire this about you. You can’t sit quietly when things are unfair and it makes you a strong and noticeable figure.

How can you embrace your uniqueness: your soul’s mission is bigger that just your own journey. You are here not only to live your life but to help others rise as well. This makes you stand out because you bring kind of energy that uplifts other around you. You become mentor or guide to friends, family or even strangers. People might come to you for advice or comfort without even realizing why. You’re here in this world to channel something bigger and by being yourself , you can lift others up too.

Random signs that might resonates with you: Sagittarius sun, Capricorn Venus, libra mars, Pisces moon, 7H placements, 2H placements, cigarettes, someone’s into modelling, people noticing you have glass skin, sport person, hiking, teacher.

Pile 4

Cards: Knave of Chalices, Temperance, The Sustainer, Castle, Power, Freedom

Your core traits : I’m seeing that you have a calm and chill vibe but you’re full of compassion. You’re emotionally open and you connect with people easily because you genuinely care. You come across as someone balanced, you’re the kind of friends who can stay calm even when things are chaotic, you can find middle ground and keeping peace. People notice how calm you are no matter the situation. You have easygoing and soft hearted nature. You’re also patient and rarely overreact and it makes you stand out.

Your hidden quality: even if you don’t always realise it , you’re the backbone for people around you. You’re a steady person who hold things together when they’re falling apart. People rely on you and you’re always there for them even if they don’t say it out loud. You naturally help others when they are stressed and confused. I’m seeing you helping your friends when they have drama or problems with others and instead of stirring out the situation you tried to be understanding and giving out support and offering gentle solution.

How people perceive you: on the outside you give off vibe of someone who’s bit guarded and selective about who you let on your circle. People might see you as someone who has strong boundaries and little bit mysterious. While you’re approachable and kind, you don’t just let anyone get close to you. At the same time, people see you as someone who has their life together, dependable and trustworthy. People might say that while you’re friendly, they know there’s deeper side to you that they haven’t seen yet. This sense of well guarded makes other curious.

People see that you’re well groomed and elegant. You might don’t like flashy clothes or bold makeup, you might prefer lighter and softer makeup that shows elegance and refined look. You’re physically appealing to to others not just because of your features but also your warmth and guardedness. You look effortlessly put together.

How your past life influences you now: in past life, you held position of authority or influence and this energy carries into this lifetime. In your past life you might have been a leader. While in this life you may not actively seek power, others can still sense your inner authority. You could also come from a powerful family in this lifetime.

How can you embrace your uniqueness: you thrive when you’re allowed to be independent and follow your own path. One of the things that makes you stand out is your ability to live life on your own terms. You don’t follow the crowd and you’re not scared to make choices that reflect who you truly are. When you embrace this freedom you inspire others to do same.

You might be type of person who choose unconventional career paths or life goals and others admire you for it. Your ability to live authentically and confidently makes you stand out as someone who’s both independent and true to yourself.

Random signs that might resonates with you: libra rising, Taurus Venus, Saturn in 10H, cancer moon, moon in 4H, 8H placements, leo midheaven, libra in big 6, batman?, red colour, bracelets collector, dying hair blonde, beach lover, social butterfly

Pile 5

Cards: 5 of wands rx, 8 of pentacles, The Womb, Rider, Maritimer, The Age of Light.

Your core traits: you stand out because of your ability to remain calm and focused. You’re not the type to be caught up in drama or competition, you naturally avoid conflict and more interested in honing your skills and just improving your abilities. You are a dedicated, hardworking and prefer to quietly perfect what you do instead of seeking the spotlight. People notice your strong work ethic and peaceful energy. You are the “quiet achiever”, you get things done without needing to make a big fuss.

I’m seeing that some of you might love to learn languages, painting and coding. You’re a productive person.

Your hidden quality: you have a nurturing and creative energy that people not immediately notice. You’re person who provides safe space to others. When someone is going through hard times instead of giving harsh or loud opinions or trying to fix it you try to make them feel heard and understood. You also have so many new creative ideas and you like to create many things that is meaningful and useful. I’m seeing that you are an inventor even if it’s not something that is worldwide level.

How others perceived you: people see that you always move forward and seek new opportunities, you’re always on the look of something better even that you’re doing it in calm way. In career or personal life people notice that you’re constantly improving yourself , learning new skills, taking new projects etc. you like to try many new things. I’m seeing also a scene where you and others are talking about new activities or course, while others might say they’ll look into it, you’ve already signed up. You’re the person people come to when they want to know latest trends or opportunities.

I’m seeing that you have a practical and approachable look. Your style is simple, elegant. I’m seeing some of you likes to wear flowy dress. Simple pastel colour tops with cutbray jeans. Some of you likes to wear blue because you want to be seen more lighthearted or you just simply love ocean.

How your past life influences you now: in past life you may have been an explorer or traveler, connected to the sea. Now you still have natural curiosity of the world and quiet sense of adventure. Even if you’re not actively travelling the world, you have spirit that’s always looking for the next things to learn and explore.

You might be drawn to documentaries about faraway places , you may have list full of adventures you want to go on. you might also loves going to ocean and going on cruises. You’re not afraid to experience new things even if it comes with some risks. In life, you’re willing to take chances on new career paths, relationships etc because you know it brings growth and knowledge.

How can you embrace your uniqueness: you’ve been preparing for this lifetime of quiet mastery and growth over many lifetimes. This is your time to embrace your purpose and trust that everything you’ve been working toward is aligning perfectly. You might have moments where you doubt if you’re on the right path. But rest assured that all of your efforts are building toward something bigger.

Random signs that might resonates with you: Capricorn sun, cancer in big 6, Taurus placements , Pisces placements, 9H placements, 4H placements, Gemini sun, Sagittarius Venus, love to curl hair, loves writing, wearing long skirts, Jade, doing TikTok dance, headband, travelling to Arabic countries.

[ghsface]

It's okay to cry. It's okay to not be okay...

Bau team x bau!reader

Sumary: Sometimes I need to remind myself and others that survival doesn’t just mean being okay, it means learning to laugh at what scared us. And if I don’t do it, who else will?

Warnings: mentions of attempted suicide, lots of blood, some dark humor at the end, cuts on arms, bathtub full of blood, no use of t/n (if you don't feel good reading this please don't read it, I also tried to approach this topic with too much care and delicacy and respect, I hope not to offend anyone)

Author's note: September is suicide prevention month. "suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem" is something that you always hear people say.. and it's true.

speaking from my personal experience, it's something that was on my mind many months many years ago, and I was able to put those thoughts aside thanks to people who I thought were never going to help me, it was a long and very hard process but now I can tell you that I'm completely fine, once they told me if you have people to write a farewell letter to it's because at least someone cares about you, you may have heard this before but it's true, you will always have someone to support you even if you think you have no one, also once they told me if you ever have these thoughts again or even try again ask for help it doesn't matter who just ask for help, whatever way ask for help, those words marked me almost all of my adolescence tbh and it helped me, I hope that if you are going through this alone, you can talk to me, my messages will always be open for whatever it is help or just talking, feel free to do so, if you read this up to here I really appreciate that you did<333

The BAU team was uneasy. It wasn't often that someone on their team disappeared without a trace, much less you. Emily Prentiss had been the first to notice your absence, as you never missed work without notice. Days ago, you had requested a brief leave for personal matters, but you hadn't returned to the office or answered any calls or messages since. As the days passed, worry turned to fear.

JJ, Spencer, and Emily decided to go to your house, as they could no longer ignore the fact that something wasn't right. The atmosphere in the car was tense. JJ kept his hands tightly on the wheel, while Spencer stared out the window, his mind wandering through thousands of possibilities, each one worse than the last. Emily, in the backseat, checked her phone over and over again, hoping in vain to receive some news from you.

When they arrived at your house, the silence was deathly. The windows were closed, and the door seemed intact, but there was something in the air, something that made them hold their breath. Emily pulled out her gun, and after exchanging a worried look with JJ and Spencer, they decided to go inside.

“anyone home?” JJ shouted as she walked down the hallway to the entrance. There was no response.

Spencer’s heart was pounding as they made their way into the living room. Everything was in order, not a sign of a struggle, but something wasn’t right. Every step they took, every corner they inspected, increased the feeling that something terrible had happened.

It was Emily who first noticed the bathroom door ajar. She approached it slowly, holding her breath, as a dark foreboding took hold of her. Pushing open the door, the scene she found was enough to make her stomach turn.

There you were, in the bathtub, submerged in the red-tinged water. Your arms hung at your sides, covered in deep cuts, blood still slowly flowing from the wounds.

“Oh my God!” JJ exclaimed from the doorway, her voice cracking.

Spencer walked into the room behind her, and for a second, the world seemed to stop. She’d never felt such paralyzing fear, such sharp pain in her chest. The air became thick, almost impossible to breathe.

Emily was the first to react, rushing to you, her hands shaking as she tried to pull your unconscious body out of the water. “Call an ambulance, JJ!” she screamed, trying to stay calm, though her hands were shaking uncontrollably.

Spencer knelt beside you, her eyes flooding with tears. “You can’t do this... you can’t leave us like this,” she whispered, her voice thick with desperation.

JJ tried to call 911, but the desperation in his voice made the words catch in his throat. He finally managed to give the address, but the operator informed him that the ambulance would take a while to arrive due to an accident on the main road. Without wasting any more time, JJ made a decision. “We can’t wait, we have to take her ourselves!”

Without thinking twice, the three of them carried you out of the bathroom, wrapping you in towels to stop the bleeding. Spencer held you, his hands still stained with your blood, as they rushed you to the car.

The trip to the hospital was agony. Every second that passed, every breath you took, or stopped taking, was like a stab in the heart of each of them. Emily, driving at full speed, struggled not to lose concentration while JJ, from the backseat, pressed on your wounds, trying to keep you conscious. Spencer kept talking to you, murmuring words of encouragement, pleading with you not to leave, to stay with them.

Finally, they arrived at the hospital, and the doctors immediately took you into surgery. The BAU team, who had been alerted, arrived soon after. Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Garcia joined Emily, JJ, and Spencer in the waiting room. The hours passed slowly, each minute a silent torture as they waited for news from you.

Spencer kept staring at his hands, your words echoing in his mind. He couldn’t shake the image of you, limp and lifeless in that bathtub. He felt helpless, riddled with guilt for not realizing what was happening to you. He loved you, more than he’d ever dared to admit, and the thought of losing you was too painful to bear.

Finally, the doctor emerged from the operating room, his expression grave. “She’s stable for now, but the blood loss was significant. We had to suture multiple wounds and are monitoring for possible nerve damage. It’s a miracle they brought her in on time.”

The relief was palpable, but so was the sadness. They knew that even though you had survived, the battle wasn’t over. They would have to face the reasons why you had gotten to that point, figure out what had happened, and most of all, be there for you, to help you heal.

Spencer walked up to the ICU door, looking at you through the glass. His eyes filled with tears, he rested a hand on the glass. “I’m sorry… I didn’t realize how bad you were,” he whispered, feeling the weight of guilt crushing him.

Emily and JJ accompanied him, each feeling a mix of relief and pain. They knew the road to your recovery would be long and difficult, but they were determined to be by your side every step of the way, no matter what it took.

When you were finally able to open your eyes days later, the first thing you saw were the tired but relieved faces of your teammates. You knew you had plunged into a darkness that seemed insurmountable, but seeing the people who loved you by your side, you knew you wouldn’t be alone on the road back to the light.

The dim glow of the hospital’s fluorescent lights welcomed you back into the conscious world. Your head hurt, and you felt the weight of the blankets on your body, but what caught your attention the most was the soft sound of someone breathing next to you. You slowly turned your head and met the tired, worried eyes of Spencer, who had been watching over you.

“Spencer…” your voice came out as a whisper, rough from lack of use and medication. You were surprised at how weak you felt, as if a large part of you had vanished.

He sat up instantly, his eyes filling with relief at seeing you awake. “You’re awake…” he said in a tone that reflected a mix of joy and pain. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry... If I had known… If I had noticed something…” The weight of his guilt hit you hard. Even though every fiber of your being was exhausted, you couldn’t let Spencer carry that pain. But before you could answer, the door to the room opened, and Emily and JJ rushed in, closely followed by Hotch and Rossi.

Emily approached you, tears in her eyes, but keeping her composure. “You scared the hell out of us,” she said softly, gently taking your hand. “You don’t have to go through this alone, understand? We’re here for you, always.” JJ sat on the other side of the bed, his blue eyes filled with concern. “Whatever you’re going through… you can tell us. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

The room was filled with a heavy silence, everyone waiting for you to say something, anything to help them understand what had brought you to this point. You knew they were worried, that they wanted to help you, but it wasn’t easy to put into words the storm that had been building inside you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice breaking, feeling tears build up in your eyes. “I didn’t want them to know… I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Spencer looked at you in pain, his hands shaking slightly as he took yours. “You would never be a burden to us. Never.”

Hotch, who had been watching silently, stepped forward. His voice was firm, but with a tinge of compassion that he rarely showed. “You don’t have to face this alone. Whatever you’re feeling, whatever led you to this, we’re going to be with you every step of the way.”

Hotch’s words, so simple and full of promise, were what finally broke the dam. The tears you’d been holding back for so long began to flow, and with them came a wave of emotions you’d been suppressing: the despair, the loneliness, the pain that had consumed you in silence.

Emily wrapped her arms around you, holding you with a strength that anchored you in the present. “It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to not be okay,” she whispered, her voice shaking with her own pent-up emotions.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, you felt like you could breathe, if only barely. The lump in your chest didn’t go away entirely, but the presence of your peers, your friends, gave you the strength you needed to start talking, to share what you’d been keeping to yourself.

You told them about the pressure you’d felt, the feeling that you were failing, that you couldn’t live up to expectations. You told them how each day had gotten harder to bear, until one day you just couldn’t take it anymore. The words came out in fits and starts, mixed with sobs, but they listened to each one with patience and understanding.

There was no judgment, just support. And as you spoke, little by little, you began to feel the weight that had been weighing you down begin to lighten, if only a little.

When you finally finished, the silence that followed wasn’t awkward. Spencer was still holding your hand, and his gaze reflected both pain and resolve. “You’re not alone in this. You won’t be anymore,” he said firmly.

Hotch nodded. “We’ll have to work together to get through this, but we will. We’ll help you find the support you need, and we’ll be here for you, too.”

Rossi, who had been watching from the back, came over and gently patted you on the shoulder. “Remember, that’s what family is for, to be there in the worst times and the best too.”

At that moment, although you knew the road ahead would be long and difficult, you also knew that you wouldn’t walk it alone. The team weren't just your colleagues, they were your family, and with them by your side, you began to believe that, perhaps, you could find a way to heal.

And although the darkness still lurked, the light of hope, however small, began to shine again.

ONE YEAR LATER...

1 year into recovery brought with it a new version of you, a version that, while still scarred, both physically and emotionally, was fully committed to moving forward with humor and gratitude. You had rejoined the team fully and found a balance between work, your personal life, and your healing process. Your colleagues had learned to appreciate your new style of humor, even when you surprised them with your comments from time to time.

One afternoon, while you were in the office cafeteria with Emily, JJ, and Garcia, you decided to break the silence with a joke, something you had perfected over those past few months.

“Did you know I’ve developed a new skill?” you said, as you poured yourself a coffee. The three womens looked at you curiously. “Now I can say that I’m an expert in abstract art. I just need something sharp and a bad day.”

There was a moment of surprise, but then Emily was the first to laugh, shaking her head. “You know, no one handles dark humor like you.”

JJ nodded, smiling. “True, but at least now we know you do it with complete command of the situation. Although I will never stop being amazed by your ability to make jokes out of something so serious.”

“Well, my traumas, my jokes,” you said with a wink, and the group burst into laughter. They had learned to take your humor as a sign of your progress, a way to remind yourself and them that you were in control, that you wouldn’t let yourself be overcome by the darkness that once trapped you.

Garcia, who until now had been listening in silence, smiled and gave you a gentle nudge. “You know, I think you should consider writing a self-help book: ‘How to survive work and not go crazy. ’ It could be a best-seller.”

“Sure, with special chapters on how to choose something sharp and how not to use them when you have a bad day,” you joked, and everyone laughed again.

Towards the end of the day, as you were gathering your things to head home, you ran into Rossi in the hallway. He looked at you with his typical knowing expression, but with a spark of amusement in his eyes.

“You know, kid I love seeing you make those jokes. It’s a sign that you’re okay, but it’s also a reminder of how far you’ve come.”

You smiled at him, nodding. “Yeah, Dave, I know. Sometimes, I need to remind myself and others that surviving doesn’t just mean being okay, but learning to laugh at what scared us. And if I don’t do it, who else will?”

Rossi let out a soft laugh. “You know, you can always count on me to be your audience. I’m not as good an audience as Spencer, though.”

“Thanks, Dave. I’ll keep that in mind for my next show.”

As you left, you knew you were surrounded by people who understood you, who supported you, and who accepted every part of you, even the darkest ones. But most importantly, you knew you had found a way to move forward: with a smile on your face, a joke on your lips, and a team that, no matter what, would always be by your side.

And as you walked out the door, ready to face whatever came next, you couldn’t help but make one last comment to yourself. “Well, if I survived the bathtub, I’m ready for anything. I just hope there’s more wine and less blood next time.”

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly🫧

[euovennia]

oh oh - and if it’s not too much trouble to ask, an addition to mom/dad friend simon, maybe another hc where reader takes a bullet for him and he’s like "why would you do that" and she’s all like "because your my friend" and he’s like "🥹" rubbing my hands together deviously

so for anyone new, this post is a continuation of this request, but it can be read as a stand alone if you so choose! i will say simon may be a bit ooc but you've already been besties forever so it's fine. thank you to the anon who requested this, i hope i did it justice. now please, enjoy <3

so by this point it's become well established that you and simon are pretty much a package deal

one can never be seen without the other trailing too far behind

unless of course one of you (usually simon) is actually trying to do their job

but even then you both have a tendency to hover

well

the hovering is usually done by simon who will take it upon himself to sit somewhere in the same room as you while you work

but you're more direct in your approach

which basically means you have no hesitation in pulling up a chair and talking his ear off

depending on his mood/what he's working on he'll either slide something your way in hopes of distracting you into silence or he'll take part in your mindless chatter

it's usually the latter much to the annoyance of price whose come to notice that simon tends to submit his mission reports just a tad later than normal when you're around

but he doesn't dare say anything because he's just happy simon finally has someone to keep him company

even if it does mean him missing a deadline here and there

now with the amount of time you two spend around one another, there was the small concern that you two may become a bit more reckless on missions together

but honestly?

that couldn't have been farther from the truth

as much as you like messing around with simon, you're very aware that your line of work requires your full attention

so, despite how hard it can be at times, you limit your jokes and general shenanigans to the bare minimum so you can get the job done

and obviously it goes without saying that he does the same by shedding the name simon riley and becoming the infamous ghost

it was a bit startling for the team to witness this change at first

they honestly thought you two were mad at each other

but after the mission was said and done, you and simon started hanging out again and it just kinda clicked

simon probably uses you as an example to soap to be honest

anyway, point is

you both know how to keep your friendship out of the way in the field, you've practically mastered the art of it

but the moment you see him get into a knife fight with an enemy soldier on a mission, you can't help but worry

and you can't help the way your worry morphs into panic as you see a tiny red dot plant itself on his body as he finally drives his knife into the neck of the rival soldier

and you certainly can't help the way your feet seemingly begin to move on their own as you sprint toward ghost and practically ram him into the ground

and you most definitely can't help the yelp of pain that drops from your lips as you feel a searing hot pain rip through your lower abdomen

so much for those bullet proof vests

simon looks up from his position on the ground, knife in hand and ready to stab it into the poor soul dumb enough to tackle him like this

but then he sees you

he sees your face, eyes wide with shock and mouth agape

his eyes trail down your body and he swears his world nearly crashes as he stares at the dark red spot currently staining your shirt

he can only fear the faint sound of yet another gun going off before you're tumbling onto the ground

he snaps out of his daze to catch you and he can't help but feel horrified upon seeing another bullet wound lodged into your thigh

he can hold in his cry of agony and heartbreak as your breathing soon becomes labored and your eyes fill with tears

he gives your struggling form a once over before sucking in a sharp breath and dragging you to a nearby hill that was littered with enough rocks and boulders to offer shelter from the incoming storm of bullets

he settles your head onto his lap as he harshly barks out words you can't even begin to understand through the comms

you can barely register the way his hand gives your face a small smack

your eyes connect as he pulls a roll of gauze from his tactical backpack, "come on, kid. don't do this to me. just a bit longer."

even with the searing hot pain that was overruling all your other senses, you can't help but smile

you grab onto his inked forearm and he stops as he looks back at you, eyes wild and frantic

"hey simon?"

"what?"

"thanks for putting up with me."

your eyes begin to flutter open, a small hiss of discomfort escaping your mouth as you cringe at the bright overhead lights

you make a move to bring a hand up in front of your eyes to shield yourself form the harsh fluorescents, but stop your movements when the lights suddenly begin to dim

confused, you begin to look around the room only to see simon standing by a wooden door with his hand on what you assumed to be a light dimmer

he stares at you through the eye holes of his balaclava, "better?"

you offer him a nod paired with a small smile and open your mouth to offer your thanks but stop when he puts the lights back up to their full brightness causing you to let out a groan

you open your mouth once more to vocalize your complaints and throw a half-hearted insult his way, but stop when you hear the heavy footfall of simon's boots making their way over to your hospital bed

he comes to a stop by your bedside as he glares down at you, a swirl of emotions darkening his already hardened gaze

after giving your eyes a few moments to adjust he speaks, "you're the stupidest person i've ever fuckin' met."

your eyes widen as your jaw goes slack, "excuse me?"

he leans down and stops just a few inches short of your face, "i said you're stupid and i'd yank you off the field myself if i could."

you can feel your heart drop at his harsh tone but decide to soldier on, "you're in a good mood today, aren't ya?"

his eyes narrow and a growl of anger and frustration escape the lips hidden by his mask, "don't give me any of that shit, you know what you did."

you sigh, "i'm in a hospital bed, simon. i don't think i could've done any–"

you don't even get to finish your sentence before he's interrupting you, "why'd you do it?"

you stare up at him, confusion and annoyance evident on your face

"simon, what are y–"

he scoffs, "the fucking bullet! you took the fucking bullet! why'd you do that? what made you think that was a bloody good idea? do you have any fucking clue what you put this team – what you put me through?"

oh

right

your expression melts into one of sheepishness as you attempt to get in a word, but stop when simon decides to continue

"i had the situation handled, i could've taken care of myself! i'm smart, i'm capable, and i have years more experience than you do so tell me, i can handle myself! i don't need you steppin' in and throwin' yourself in front of bullets! you coulda fuckin' died!"

"simon–"

he points a finger in your face as he continues on with his rant, "no, you don't get to call me that, not anymore. from here on out, you either address me as ghost or lieutenant, nothing else until you can learn how to handle yourself on the field. we need soldiers, not daredevils. do you understand?"

you exhale, "no."

before he can continue with his angry tangent you sit up with a painful grimace and grab the pillow the pillow your head once rested upon and fling it at him

he narrowly dodges it and stares at you with a mix of rage and pure disbelief with a glare that practically screamed, "what the fuck."

hit block limit again. i'm afraid this may become a habit. anyway.

taking his silence as your cue to speak, you do just that, "okay fine, you're right. i probably shouldn't have tackled you down like that and taken a bullet for you, i probably should've remembered that you're a fully capable man with more experience than me, and i probably should've remembered that the field is no place to be playing favorites. you're right, i should've kept that all in mind but–"

you let out a small sigh as you avert your eyes to the think blanket draped over your body, "when i saw that gun pointed right at you i...i couldn't bring myself to care about any of that. at that moment, all i saw was you in danger and i couldn't have that so i did what i did. you can reprimand and punish me all you want for doing it, but i don't care. i stand by my actions."

simon eyes you for a few moments longer before grabbing onto a chair nearby and settling it beside your bed

you watch as he sits down with a small sigh, his eyes never leaving yours

"why?"

your brows knit together in confusion

"why what?"

"why'd you take a bullet–no, why'd you take two bullets for me? you and everyone else on this team know i could've handled it, so why?"

you frown, "because you're my friend, simon. why else?"

once those words leave your mouth, you're greeted with his blank ghost stare

again, he's just 👁️👁️

and you feel a small wave of concern wash over you

like

this is the same man who was torturing you with the bright fluorescent lights and lecturing you to hell just a few minutes ago and now he's just staring at you

still and silent as ever

you almost ask if he's okay, but stop yourself when he brings his large hand up to the edge of your hospital bed and begins inching it closer to yours before eventually resting it over yours

it's quiet for a few moments longer before he speaks in one of the quietest voices you've ever heard from him, "you took that bullet cause i'm your friend?"

you can't help but soften your own voice as you respond, "my best friend."

upon hearing you say that, simon can just feel the small well of tears that begin building up in his eyes

and as much as he wants to fight them off, he just can't

you, already being able to sense the internal war he's got going on inside his head, simply turn your hand so you can grip onto his and give it a firm squeeze

and by god he hates you for that

because now he can't help but disconnect your hands in favor of surging forward and wrapping his arms around you

you swear you can feel the small rumble of his shoulders as he tries and fails to conceal his quiet sniffles but you decide to overlook it because oh my god simon 'ghost' riley is crying in your arms and it's all your fault

so you decide it's best to just hold onto him as tight as you possibly can

he notices this and he just melts

what did he do to deserve you?

what overpowering force of life felt that he was good enough for the sunshine that is you?

who gave him the honor of being blessed with you?

he's not sure but quite frankly, he doesn't really care

not when you're holding onto him like your life depends on it

not when you pull back from the hug, look into his eyes, and offer him the brightest smile he's ever seen

and certainly not when you grab onto his hands and speak in that sweet honey voice of yours, "i'll always take a bullet for you. i can't lose you, simon."

jesus christ you're going to make his heart burst

he sucks in a small breath and squeezes onto your hands, "i can't lose you either, kid."

you only smile, "you won't, i'm always gonna be here with you."

words that once would've annoyed him to no end now set his cold heart alight

"you fuckin' better."

your smile widens and you lean forward to capture him in yet another hug

with his arms wrapped tightly around your body and you pressed up against him, he can't help but smile

it's definitely nice to have a friend

:)

[toon-tales]

Here it is! Part three! Omg, I'm so excited for this!

Let's begin!

Ok, so, I know a lot of people say that Poppy hasn't changed a lot in the third movie but let me stop you right there!

Here's our girl, our happy-go-lucky queen cutely dressed and if I may, waiting for her boyfriend to compliment her looks like he always does

But then she notices something is wrong

You can see in the third pic, she was thinking how to approach the matter, because this, after all, is her boyfriend's old home, where he used to live with his grandmother. And in the fourth pic, her brows are even more furrowed

And here, oh my gosh this scene:

Can we look at Poppy, PLEASE?!

She's paying her full attention to Branch. She wants him to talk, to open up to her. HER EYES ARE FILLED WITH HOPE SHE'S ENCOURAGING HIM TO TALK TO HER

Skip, skip, skip, skiiiiiip, annnndddd here:

"I'm not hearing no!"

Branch doesn't look sad, he doesn't look mad, he doesn't look scared, he doesn't look uncomfortable, and most importantly, he doesn't look forced

True, Poppy was all "We are so in!", but unlike in Twt, she actually listened to Branch when he wanted to talk to her, and Branch actually talked when something he didn't like was going on. Do you even see how much they've grown?

Now, Poppy knows how hard life is without a sibling, and she doesn't want her boyfriend to just take his family for granted. Her heart was in the right place, people

And Branch didn't say no! He didn't refuse! They talked, different opinions and different thoughts and different mindsets, yet they worked things out

And yeah, I know Branch was probably thinking 'what have I gotten myself into' in this scene

But the entire movie was just Branch having issues and dealing with them. And Poppy was trying to help him. Also, in case you haven't noticed, things do not work out the way Poppy has imagined, just like in Twt, but the difference? Later, she didn't leave Branch alone to go save Floyd, she went with him. Now, I hear you saying: she went because Branch didn't say anything to her, while they fought in Twt, that's why she left him

Wrong!

Let me remind you that Branch lied to her, kept things from her, kept his feelings from her, didn't open up, and literally was being sarcastic and you can see she was hurt in this scene

And they're in a new relationship which Branch is already beginning with hiding stuff, yet she put all that behind because -I'm not gonna say boyfriend - the man she loved, needed her. So, yeah. She's changed

Takes a deep breath

Now, let's move on, shall we?

I just wanted to point out how Poppy was looking at Branch when he was trying to yet again hide his feelings. She knows what's up

Moving on to this scene:

The way she's telling them to include Branch? The pure happiness and excitement on her face for him! PLEASE?! May I remind you that SHE WASN'T SINGING WITH THEM BUT WAS THIS HAPPY FOR BRANCH?!

Now, I've already talked about the scenes I'm going to talk about now in the analysis posts, but I'm gonna copy-paste them here because I don't want you people going to those posts, then return to this one and lose your focus and vibe

You have Branch, whose brothers' return has reopened scars he's been trying to close for so long, and has just found out his brother is being held captive, and is now in a rescue mission to save him and sing the perfect family harmony, the same thing that they failed miserably at the last time so they walked out and never talked to each other again, comforting his girlfriend. Poppy needed time, needed him, and he was ready to give her all the time she needed and stay with her. Proof? He didn't move until she has left first, ensuring she was ready to leave

Then we have Poppy, who has just found out her boyfriend has been hiding secrets from her, and watched as he reluctantly agreed to reunite with his brothers, and discovered she had a sister that she knew n o t h i n g about, and that this sister was so afraid to leave her safe place and go with her, deciding to go help Branch save his brother. She took one last glance at the walls separating her from Viva, then walked towards Rhonda, silently signaling she was ready to leave.

They were both dealing with stuff, needed time to open up/stay, yet each one thought of the other

Then this scene was SOMETHING ELSE-

"Where are you going?"

"To save Floyd, alone. I didn't need them growing up and I don't need them now." He didn't even look back when he said, "What are you doing?"

And the look of disbelief on her face. "What do you mean? I'm coming with you!"

He literally gave her a blind eye, didn't look at her. He didn't want to get weak. "Why bother? Aren't you gonna leave me eventually anyway?" He was certain. He didn't wait for any reassurances because he didn't want to hear any and live a lie again. "Everyone else does."

But despite that, Poppy did NOT give up on him

"I have been by your side from the moment we've met, and you've been by mine. Let's give each other some credit here."

'and you've been by mine' this wasn't about her, but about THEM. This line has so much depth and meaning for their relationship

"You're right, I'm sorry. Thank you."

He started with the apology because he knew what he just said was WRONG. He knew she wasn't leaving, they've always been there for each other. And I don't think he thanked her for coming, maybe for reminding him? I mean, that's Branch we're talking about, he would surely have thoughts and insecurities about people leaving him

But Poppy's always there to remind him that she's always there

His mission is her mission. She was willingly going for an insane rescue mission, and face people BRANCH HIMSELF didn't know anything about, all the while trying to deal with the separation between her and Viva. But she was going with him. Because that's just them

All they wanted was for the other to be happy

And in the end? It worked out just fine

So, to sum up this post, and the previous two: no, Branch isn't perfect like we claim, nor Poppy is, too. Hiding things? Sure, that happens. Lying? Happens as well. Disagreements? Oh, yeah, lots of those. But in the end of the day? They work things out

Branch is perfect for Poppy, and Poppy is perfect for Branch

That's just love, and it doesn't have to be perfect all the time

Sooooo, that's it? Omg that was fuuuun!

Anyway, as usual, feel free to add or comment on anything!

Part one

Part two

[elinoracia]

⁑ They see you cry for the first time// Hogwarts legacy characters reactions x reader ⁑

~ Hogwarts Legacy headcanons ~

Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, use of Y/N, mention of death and blood, swearing (censored), Leander jumpscare. Pairings: Sebastian x reader, Ominis x reader, Garreth x reader, Amit x reader, Poppy x reader, Natty x reader, Imelda x reader, Leander x reader.

Feel free to request anything!

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

Context: Even after Professor Fig's death, even under great pressure and no matter the situation, you never let your friends saw you crack. Not even a single tear. You were trying really hard to hide your pain and sadness. But it had to come out one day... After fighting against some poachers with your companion, they almost killed him/her. After you saved him/her, you finally broke down. You thought you lost him/her too. You couldn't control your tears. (Pre-relationship)

THEIR REACTION :

Sebastian:

He gets up and dusts himself off without noticing how devasted you were at first.

"It seems like I'm the one who's in your debt now. I owe you- Y/N? Are you crying?"

He almost runs to you the moment he notices.

"What is wrong? Are you hurt? Are you bleeding? Tell me!"

He is extremely worried. He doesn't know why you're crying. When you explain to him you were really afraid of losing him like you lost so many people in your life, he got really quiet for a moment.

"You'll never lose me. We're a team, the best team even. If we stick together and protect eachother, nothing could ever happen to one of us. Besides, I am an excellent duellist!... Look at me Y/N..."

He lifts your chin up to make you meet his gaze. You could see how concerned he was. He wipes away some of your tears with his fingers.

"I'll be the one protecting you next time." You could feel he wasn't only talking about duels or battles...

He is not really good with words so he will go out of his way to try to cheer you up for the rest of the day. He will pick little flowers for you and bring you sweets.

"I'm not great with words but I surely can listen! Please come to me if you want to talk..or if you need a big bear hug! I'm also good with those."

Would hug you very tightly for as long as you need.

Ominis:

He will notice almost immediately when you start crying. He felt your breath pattern change and he heard you slightly sniffle.

"Y/N, may I ask what's troubling you? It's very unlike you to be this upset. I'm worried. Are you hurt perhaps?"

You then explain how scared you were. You feel like you almost lost him too.

He stays silent. He goes to reach for your hand and holds it.

He usually never lets anyone holds his hand because he doesn't feel like he is in need of any guidance and doesn't think it is ever necessary. But he is making an exception to comfort you.

"I appologize for making you worry that much about my safety. But I am still here...thanks to you."

You both make it back to Howarts and he refuses to let go of your hand.

"As you may already know, I am a great listener. I am always available if you feel the need to talk about anything."

"Your safety is also truly important to me. I just want to make sure you do not feel like what happened to you or anyone is your fault."

He really wants to make sure you're feeling better before letting your hand go.

He doesn't care if people can see him holding your hand. All that matters at this moment is you.

"Take your time Y/N. I'll stay for as long as you need me to."

Garreth:

He is very oblivious about the situation. You turn your head to not face him so he couldn't see your tears. But you feel your shoulders shake.

When he notices how your demeanor changed, he just wonders if you were tired or maybe hurt.

"Y/N? Are you alright? I have some Wiggenweld potions if you need any. I even brew them myself."

You try to explain to him how you felt. You couldn't contain your tears. Those poachers almost killed him in front of your eyes... You see his eyes widen.

"Y/N...Please don't cry. I'm fine, look! Please... I hate when I can't see your pretty smile."

He will almost instantly take you in his arms and give you a hug. He will also gently carress your head as he tries to make you smile or laugh.

"Come on Y/N, you usually always laugh at that joke! Smile for your best bud...please."

He will not leave you alone until you feel better.

"Trust me, I think you might need some of that famous Gryffindor courage, chivalry, and determination to make you feel better! You're in luck, I have all of the above!"

He will not leave you for the rest of the day. And if anyone tries to talk to you, he will tell them you need to rest. He wouldn't want you to feel too overwhelmed.

"There it is! There is your pretty smile. Do you feel a bit better now?"

Amit:

After the battle against the poachers, his first instinct will be to check on you, even he was the one who almost died. He'll quickly notice you feel upset.

"Y/N what is wrong? Please don't cry...I'm here for you."

You explained how unbearable the thought of almost losing him too was. You explained how much it breaks you.

"I-I'm sorry...I didn't know how much that impacted you. I should have known. But I'm here for you now. Don't be ashamed to cry in front of me. I'm here..."

As you're crying, he gently rubs your back and hands you his handkerchief. He stays next to you until you finish crying. Then he will talk to you for a while.

"I hope you know you don't have to hide your emotions from me anymore. I still think you're incredibly strong. You're so wonderful Y/N, truly."

He'll almost force you to go get some rest for the rest of the day.

"Please, let me bring you back to your dorms. You need to rest. I'll warn your teachers about your absence, they'll understand. I'll give you the notes I took during class, I insist on that."

He'll walk you back to your dorms like the gentleman he is. He'll make sure you don't have to worry about anything else for the rest of the day.

He will bring some food to you so you don't forget to eat. It's not just an excuse to come to see you and check on you, not at all really

He will try to be more careful about what he does. He doesn't want to worry you.

Poppy:

She almost cries first. The situation really shook her. But when she notices you crying, she focuses all her attention on you.

"Y/N! Please tell me you're not hurt! I'm here, I'm okay, you're okay. Take a deep breath."

You try explaining to her through your heavy sobs how afraid you were to lose her too.

"Don't be silly, I'll always be right next to you, no matter how annoying it can be. They can't possibly get rid of me that easily when you're with me Y/N. That's what makes you such an amazing person... You're always so selfless."

She takes you in her arms. Nobody can possibly make her let go of you.

"I'm so sorry you went through all of that... but you will never lose me."

She makes you take deep breaths and do breathing exercises until you calm down a little.

"Do you feel better? Do you need me to bring you something? Water? Food? Anything? Let me go get that for you!"

You could ask her for anything and she'll RUN to get them for you.

"Don't worry, it's okay to cry. Sometimes I cry too! It doesn't make you weak or anything of the sort! Your tears mean you feel deeply and that's a good thing!"

She'll make sure that you're not alone, not a single second, for the rest of the day. She has to make sure you feel supported.

Natty:

She is very attentive to what is happening around her. So it doesn't take her long to notice your muffled sobs you were trying to hide.

"Y/N, what's wrong? I'm here with you, you can tell me about it."

She tries to stay very calm. She wouldn't want to stress you out more than you already are.

As you explain to her how you felt about losing her too and the fear of her being killed, you can notice how concerned she looks. She sadly knows that feeling all too well.

"I want to support you in any way you need. You are not alone. I...I know how you feel."

She'll make you sit next to her. She will let you cry it out while she hold your hand and softly rubs it with her thumb.

"This is really hard for you, I understand. I will help you work it out. I'll never leave you Y/N. You'll never lose me, I hope you know that."

She'll hand you tissues as she listens to you attentively.

"Is there anything I can do to help? I would do anything to help you feel better."

She is ready to do anything you want. It really hurts her to see you go through what she went through.

Following this incident, you can be sure she will regularly check on you.

Imelda:

She is panting as she tries to get up. She is just glad she didn't die. It was a close-call. When she turns to look at you, she is surprised to see you so upset.

"Y/N? Why are you crying? We won! You beat them all! It could be so much worse, I almost died."

You explain how the though of losing her the way you lost so many people scares you. Your tears are flowing on your cheeks.

"I'm not...that big of a deal. If I knew you were going to cry over me, I would have been more careful... Please...Y/N..."

She slowly pats your back, not really knowing what to do or what to say.

"Hey Y/N, it's okay, I'm still here. And even if one day I die, I'm sure you'll figure out something crazy like usual and resurrect me or something like that. You're that powerful, I'm sure of it. But let's not think about it just yet!"

She usually would NEVER hug anyone but she'll hug you if you ask her. She will complain but she'll still do it for you.

"Hugh! So needy! Just don't hold me too tight, I can't escape death twice in a row. There there, I'm here."

Deep down she enjoys being the one you're worried about. She would never admit it though.

"Don't tell anyone we hugged or I'll never hug you again."

Leander:

He only thinks about himself at first. He almost died and couldn't believe he was still here.

"Holy sh*t you saved me! Y/N... it was crazy. I-... Are you crying?"

You tell him how afraid you were about losing him too. You couldn't bear the thought of him dying.

"Oh...I- hum..."

He doesn't have a single clue how to comfort you. He is very ankward and clumsy with his words. He means well though.

He's the kind of person to not think before he talks.

"Y/N...look at me. I...hum...your tears are beautiful...S-Sorry I just blurt out random things when I'm nervous. But I'm here..."

He'll ankwardly hug you and pat your head.

"It's alright Y/N...Do you want my scarf? You're always begging me to give it to you so you can wear it. Here, take it."

He gives you his scarf you puts it around your neck. It feels strangely comforting.

"You can wipe your tears with it if you want. It's yours now. Red suits you much better anyway."

You burry your face in his chest and hug him tighter.

"I hope it's not just an excuse because you don't need to do that if you really needed a hug from me that bad. I'll hug you everyday if you insist."

In a weird way, his teasing makes you feel a bit better.

[burntheedges]

Pas de Deux Chapter 2

Din Djarin x f!reader | 2.5k | fic masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

fic summary: When Din Djarin – principal dancer at Concordia Ballet Company and generational talent in the classical style – suddenly left CBC and joined the Nevarro Ballet Theater mid-season, it shocked the ballet world. You never would have guessed that he would change your life, too.

a/n: it's time to figure out what Karga's plan is. 👀 See my notes at the end and on the masterlist about reader in this fic and ballet in general. Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!!

chapter tags/warnings: gen, ballet terms (see end notes and the masterlist for definitions and videos), a bit of angst, a bit of fluff

Chapter 2

You were one of the last people to enter the studio for rehearsal and realized the entire company had been gathered together. You hurried over to sit by Adrian and Owen before looking around and noticing Djarin was in the corner, deep in conversation with Kuiil. Maybe they had met before, after all.

Karga walked in just as you sat down and clapped his hands. “Well! Hello, everyone. First, let us welcome our newest company member, Din Djarin.” He paused and gestured towards the corner where Djarin was standing, smiling as you all clapped and stamped the floor. You glanced over to him and saw that he was leaning against the wall with his shoulders loose and arms crossed, expressionless mask back in place. “We are very happy to have him join us. Please introduce yourselves and welcome him when you see him.” Djarin didn’t react and you wondered how those introductions would go. “Now, we have a few announcements about changes to the spring programs.”

You felt Adrian elbow you and you elbowed him back without looking. 

“As I mentioned earlier this week, we won’t be making any changes to Midsummer, Swan Lake, or Cinderella.” You heard Adrian breathe a sigh of relief beside you and you nudged him again. “But we will be making some changes to the other shows. As you know, we have three mixed programs planned for spring, as well as the 5th anniversary gala.” 

Karga waved one hand and started to tick off his fingers as he continued. “For the first program, we’ll be adding a solo performance for Din. Given that one is so soon, in January, we don’t want to disrupt things too much.”

You heard some murmurs and saw some of your fellow dancers nodding. That made sense, and it sounded like they were going to spread out the changes. It also added a draw for the audience, to get to see Din Djarin alone on stage. A real showcase for his skill and artistry.

“For February’s program,” Karga turned to Talia, who was mostly in charge of that one, and nodded. “Din will be joining the Balanchine ballet. You’ll discuss that in your next rehearsal.” Talia nodded back at him, and then glanced over the dancers. You tried to not to wince – someone would be losing a role, then. Probably more than one person. But it didn’t make sense to not play to Djarin’s strengths, and something as technical as Symphony in C was perfect for him. And it was possible that he’d performed it before at CBC, anyway — they didn’t do a lot of Balanchine, but if they did, they’d pick Symphony in C.

“For April, we’ll be adding something new.” Karga looked over to one of the choreographers, Vince, who nodded at the room. “More to come on that, but it will be a small group.” You wondered if they would give the dancers who would be demoted in Symphony a chance in this new number – Karga was usually good about things like that. You glanced at Adrian and knew he was thinking the same thing as he glanced around at some of the others. 

“And finally, the gala!” Karga grinned hugely. You all knew he’d been looking forward to this for months, if not years – May would mark the 5th anniversary since he’d taken over and then renamed and reinvigorated NBT. The gala was his baby. You could feel a sudden tension move through the room – many of the dancers were slated to do something new or interesting during the gala and you knew no one would want to give up their roles, which were meant to be a true showcase of the company’s talent. You briefly wondered if they’d be adding Djarin to the longer ballet again, and if so, how much strife that might cause with the principals who were supposed to be in it.

But it seemed Karga had a different idea. “We will keep what is already planned just as it is, with one exception. We’ll be adding a three-part pas de deux to the program for Din and a partner. it will be spread over the course of the night, woven between the other numbers.” You blinked, surprised – it was definitely a novel idea, and you could see others trying to hide their surprise as well. “We will announce Din’s partner, and any resulting changes, soon. Kuiil will choreograph this new pas de deux.”

The room couldn’t hide its reaction this time. There were murmurs and glances that betrayed everyone’s shock – Kuiil was a very contemporary choreographer, with an only somewhat neo-classical repertoire.

And everyone knew Din Djarin was a master of the classical style. You’d never seen or heard anything that would suggest he had any familiarity with, or even interest in, more contemporary or expressive styles.

You wondered if this had been the subject of their argument in Karga’s office.

“And so that is our plan! Thank you, everyone, for your attention. I leave you to your rehearsals.” Karga nodded and swept from the room. The door closed behind him and the noise level rose sharply as everyone began to discuss his announcements. You heard Adrian and Owen start guessing at the changes in the February Balanchine number and your eyes strayed across the room to find Djarin.

But he was already gone. You caught only a glimpse of his shoulder as he slipped out the door.

…

The next few days were unremarkable, despite all of the recent changes. Djarin attended morning class but always slipped out the door as soon as it was over. As far as you knew, none of the other dancers had even had a conversation with him yet. He seemed to always be slipping out the door of every room as soon as he could. 

With opening night only two weeks away, your rehearsal hours were filled with the Nutcracker and little else. As Djarin wasn’t going to be in it, you never saw him in the afternoons. You heard updates from the others – Clara told you about some of the changes to the February Balanchine ballet, and Yuri had seen Djarin working on his solo for January with Talia. They had apparently chosen a medley of moments and scenes from La Bayadère, which seemed perfect for someone with Djarin’s level of skill. Talia had to be beside herself – technically challenging ballets were her favorite.

Adrian had the full rundown on who had been shifted around and who had been given new roles in the April show, and it sounded like everyone was at least mollified if not happy about the changes.

You didn’t see Djarin again outside of the morning company class for almost two weeks. It was late in the evening on a Wednesday – you’d had some physical therapy exercises for your ankles to complete after your last rehearsal, and you were finally headed home to have dinner and rest before a couple of easier days of show prep. The two-week run of Nutcracker performances would start on Friday and you needed the rest before the chaos began. 

You turned the corner into the building’s large lobby and found him kneeling on the ground in front of a small child. Maybe 4 or 5 years old, if you had to guess. He was adjusting the kid’s jacket and talking to him softly.

You retreated around the corner and tried not to draw attention to yourself, but you couldn’t help but stare as you came to a stop. 

“Hey,” Djarin’s deep voice sent a shiver down your spine. It was soft and warm as he spoke to the (his?) kid. “You ready to go home?”

The kid nodded, and his little green hat flopped around on his head as he did so. You glanced between them and for the first time, you saw Din Djarin smile. It spread across his face and you watched, mesmerized, as a dimple appeared in his cheek and his eyes crinkled. 

It was beautiful. He was beautiful. Shit. 

“Alright, kid. Let’s go.” Still smiling, he stood and held out his hand. The kid grabbed two of his fingers and they headed for the door. You were pretty sure they hadn’t even noticed you were there.

You blinked, a bit dazed. As you slowly moved towards the door yourself, you decided it had to be his kid – he’d mentioned going home, after all. And it put all of his quick exits in a new light, if he had childcare to worry about. 

You resolved not to mention this new possibility to the rumor mill.

…

By the end of the two week run of Nutcracker, you were exhausted. Long days of class, sometimes a short rehearsal, and early call times for shows left you worn out and ready for a break. On the Monday after a final show you always felt like you’d been hit by a truck, and this Monday was no different. You slept in for once, looking forward to a few days off for the holidays and a slow return to steady rehearsals after the new year.

In those few weeks you hadn’t seen any sign of the kid again. You’d barely seen Djarin at all, once again only catching sight of the back of his head as he slipped out of the door after morning class. (Whether you’d been watching him even more during class wasn’t something you wanted to own up to, even to yourself.) Given the hectic Nutcracker schedule and the fact that he wasn’t in the show, you weren’t really surprised that you hadn’t run into him.

You spent a comfortable few days relaxing, cleaning, and visiting friends before starting to prepare for the busy return to rehearsals in January.

During your first few days back in the studio in the new year, you focused on getting through class and warming yourself up. A few days off wasn’t enough to get truly rusty, but it felt nice to stretch and focus on moving your body.

After class on Thursday you found yourself alone as you walked down the hallway towards rehearsal for the January mixed program. You’d stopped to chat with Alexa for a few minutes about a tricky section of your choreography as Hermia in Midsummer, which was coming up at the end of February. It seemed everyone else was gone by the time you were done – you said goodbye to her and stepped out into an empty hall. As you walked you went over the choreography again in your mind, remembering Alexa’s advice about staying connected through the movements and briefly closing your eyes to focus.

Eyes still closed, you turned the corner to walk past the administrative offices and collided face-first with something tall and warm. And muscular. Your hands came up belatedly to catch you.

“Oh!” You startled and opened your eyes to find both of your hands resting on a broad chest in a tight black shirt. You blinked and lifted your gaze, pretty certain you knew who you would find. 

Din Djarin looked down at you with an unreadable expression. You blinked and realized his big hands were cupping your elbows, holding you upright.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking—“ you cleared your throat and tried to step back from him, but for a moment he held you in place. You met his eyes again and couldn’t read anything in them. 

Then he released you suddenly and you both took a step back. “Sorry. I was thinking about some choreography and not where I was walking.”

Djarin nodded and spoke the first words he’d ever said to you directly, face still expressionless. “It’s fine.” His voice was deep and somehow warm, despite how closed off he seemed.

You hesitated, remembering how Karga had encouraged all of you to be welcoming, weeks ago. “I don’t think I’ve introduced myself.” You did so then and bit your lip. 

He nodded and did the same, even though you obviously knew his name. “Din. Nice to meet you.”

You nodded, too. “Are you heading to rehearsal?” You motioned behind him in that sort of let’s-walk-together way that people tended to do. He nodded and turned and you found yourself walking casually next to Din Djarin. You wracked your brain for a topic of conversation. 

“Um,” you started without looking at him. “What are you working on this afternoon?”

You felt him look at you but didn’t look back. “My solo for later this month, with Talia, and then joining the Balanchine rehearsal for February.” You felt a shiver travel down your spine. His voice – you weren’t sure you were going to get used to it any time soon. It was so deep.

You nodded, glancing at him. He was still looking at you. “How’s it going?”

His expression didn’t change at all. “It's fine. Most of them were in Nutcracker so it’s picking up more now.” You nodded again. You weren’t sure what to say next, but to your surprise, he asked you a question.

“Have you danced the lead in marzipan before this year?”

You were surprised, but answered easily. “Once. I was in it but not the lead last year, and Yuna was sick for one of the shows. She was sugarplum this time. I, um, just made first soloist this year.” You could hear your self-deprecating tone and hoped he wasn’t thinking you weren’t up to it. You didn’t think he’d really noticed you – or anyone, for that matter – in class. 

But he surprised you again. “I saw one of the shows. You danced it well. Like you know it perfectly, but you made it your own. It felt light and airy. Like it should. I liked what you did with the pirouettes in the middle. And the rond de jambes at the end.”

With each compliment in his steady, matter-of-fact tone you felt the heat rise more in your cheeks. Your mouth fell open in surprise. You’d never heard him say so much all at once. “Oh! Um, thank you. I– well. Thank you.” He’d noticed you? And not just you, but the small ways you had tried to make the choreography your own? He’d seen that? You were stunned.

You looked at him again but found nothing in his expression. It was impossible to tell what he might be thinking. You wondered if you should say something else, or compliment him in return, but you’d reached the rehearsal studios and he turned to enter the smaller one. 

“See you in class.” He slipped through the door and was gone. 

You blinked and turned slowly to continue down the hall. You found Karga walking slowly towards you from the opposite direction.

“Hello, my dear,” he smiled warmly. “I see you’ve met Din.”

You nodded. “Yes, well. We’ve been in class together, of course. But yes, we just met. Officially, I guess.”

He patted your shoulder as he passed you. “Good, good. Have a good rehearsal.”

You thanked him and continued towards the studio in a daze, with Djarin’s – no, Din’s – voice running through your head. You danced it well. 

You couldn’t wait to tell Adrian. He was never going to believe it.

...

prev | next

a/n: we've met Din! 👀 some ballet notes ~

Classical vs. contemporary ballet - this is a pretty good (short) overview. Din's old company (CBC) was basically classical-only, which is how some are. Here's a short clip of a classical performance vs. a very contemporary one.

"Mixed programs" vs. story ballets - most companies will have some number of story ballets on the schedule every season (think Swan Lake, Cinderella, Giselle, Sleeping Beauty, etc.) which draw a bigger audience, and then various "mixed programs" that fill in gaps between them. Mixed programs are a chance for in-house choreographers to share their new creations, or for the company to showcase their skills with other known works, ex. Balanchine's shorter ballets (~20-30 minutes). Many companies have certain numbers in their repertoire that they can pull out for this reason.

Nutcracker - many companies have some number of Nutcracker performances on their schedule during or just before the holidays, and sometimes they cast (local) kids in various roles, too. Reader is dancing the role of Marzipan, and she also mentions the Sugar Plum Fairy. These roles have semi-set choreography, usually, depending on which version a company is doing (there are many famous versions). This short video is great and gives some insight into the ways a dancer might try to make very prescribed choreography her own (with voiceover from Emma Von Enck that inspired Din's compliments about pirouettes and rond de jambes). Many dancers have been in the Nutcracker because a lot of local companies and schools do performances of it every year (think school-aged kids doing it for the community).

Pirouette - a turn on one leg (in a variety of positions)

Rond de jambe - a half circle made with the leg. It's kind of like drawing the letter D on the floor or in the air.

Din's solo - they decide that Din is doing a sort of medley of variations (solos) from La Bayadère, a classical ballet, in the January program. Here's one of his variations and here is another from later in the ballet. (Here's a few dancers doing that first one, and Isaac Hernandez, also featured in the fic header!)

Symphony in C (the Balanchine ballet Din is joining) - a 32 minute ballet with over 50 dancers. There are some videos at the link. It has 4 movements and each one features a principal couple and a few other dancers.

tag list coming in a reblog!

[fallingfor-fics]

Business Ethics- Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x fem! IT employee

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: none, drinking, angst, implied smut. flirting

Summary: Melissa finds out you're getting fired and doesnt know how to tell you but eventually word gets out.

You had worked at Abbott for about 3 years now in the IT department and loved your job with a passion. You had skills with computers and didn't mind using those to make some good money, not to mention you got to work with good people. They never gave a shitty attitude or were sexist pigs like other places you worked. Not to mention thanks to this job you met your girlfriend Melissa. Her being a teacher here worked out well, but you haven't got around to telling anyone yet because you don't want to worry about gossip, and of course the HR issues. You were currently on your way to the break room because someone had called about the wifi not working in there. It usually is just an issue on their end, but you don't mind since it's an easy fix and you get to stop and chat with some of the other staff for a bit. You are an angel in about half of the staff's eyes since you seem to magically fix all their tech issues with projectors and what not. The other half never paid mind to you but were always friendly. 

“Hey! Got a call about Wifi?” you say walking in and Barb sticks up her hand with a finger pointed to signal you over. 

“Yeah Facebook isn't loading and it's really ruining my relaxing lunch.” she scoffed and you smiled walking over.

“May I?” you ask, gesturing to her phone and she hands it to you. You peek above her phone to spot the empty seat beside her. She notices and stares at you intensely. 

“She’s not here yet, I think she ran off campus for food today.” Barb answers and you look at her with a faux confused face.

“Um..” you pause and clear your throat before sitting up straight and handing her phone back, “You were on the guest Wifi.” you said before turning to leave. 

You are met with Melissa's bright eyes and large smirk as she looks you up and down. “Hey Wall-E what brings you to these parts?” Melissa mocks at you as she moves past to sit down.

You roll your eyes at the name she chose today, usually she goes for Specs, Droid, or Short Circuit. You turn to face her and she smiles when your eyes meet, you can tell she enjoys teasing you like this in front of everyone and you hold back your own smile. Before you can answer you get a call from another teacher to help with their computer and so you bite your tongue and walk away. Once you are gone Barb lets out a large breath. 

“Oh my god I thought I was gonna go crazy.” Barb gasps

“What? How come?” Melissa asks, confused. Barbra leans in close to whisper. 

“Ok Ava told me this earlier and you can not tell anyone, especially Y/n,” she started and Melissa nodded for her to continue “according to Ava since they have to make some departmental cuts, the superintendent said they are going to have to let Y/n go” She sits back up and looks around to make sure no one heard. 

Melissa leans up slowly with shock over her face. She feels her stomach drop and she begins to already grow guilty for having this knowledge. 

“That's crazy.” Melissa mutters with a clear upset. 

“I know and who knows what this means for the other staff and oh I feel so bad for the girl but ya know last one in first one out..” Barbra keeps rambling on but Melissa tunes her out as she thinks about you. She gets up without a word and rushes to Avas office. She knew the superintendent, Jamie, was still on campus and likely to be talking with Ava so she took this as her opportunity.

She doesn't bother knocking and just opens Ava’s door, standing in front of her desk with a tight lip and furrowed brow.

“What now Schemmenti? Did you really have to disturb my meeting?” Ava says annoyed.

“You're firing Y/n?” she says with attitude and Ava sighs, setting her magazine down.

“Um, Yes we are letting her go.” Jaime says calmly with a sympathetic smile, not allowing Ava to speak.

“But why? She has been here for three years and she has been helping us out so much she doesn't deserve this.” Melissa said with anger in her throat, she tried her best to stay calm and not yell, but she felt so much for you she couldn't not say anything.

“I don't want to Ms.Schemmenti but with where we are at it was either her or one of our Food Service Directors and that department is a complete mess so we couldn't afford to lose one of them.” Jaime says trying to reason with her by providing her excuses

“Bullshit.” Melissa scoffs

“Look I don't like this anymore than you do but at the end of the day it has nothing to do with you so just let it go Ms. Schemmenti. Understood?” Ava was now standing to level with Melissa and Melissa's arms were crossed as she shook her head and clenched her jaw. 

“And you can't tell her Melissa, it's not your place and if I find out that you even mentioned the possibility to her-” Ava began trying to sympathize before Jamie cuts her off

“We will have to ask you to resign.” Jaime finished and both Melissa and Ava’s  eyes went wide. 

“You can't fire me for telling her.” Melissa scoffed, Ava looked down. 

“We have a long list of new teachers that want to work here Ms. Schemmenti, so it wouldn't be an issue.” Jaime smirked and Melissa held back the words that were prying to pour from her mouth and just stormed out. 

--

Later that day you and Melissa were hanging out at her place and watching some random Judge show and after some comfortable silence, Melissa spoke softly and with a rather monotone voice. 

“If you had bad news about a coworker but you couldn't tell them or you may get fired, would you risk that or just ya know mind your own business?” She muttered and you scrunched your brows.

“Hmm, that's a good question. Normally I'd mind my own business, but..” You paused looking up at her from your place on her shoulder, “I think it also depends on how close you are with them you know?” you finish and then look back at the TV. 

“Yeah, good point.” she sighs as she chews on her cheek with furrowed brows.

--

You haven't seen Melissa all week and she was being super dry in text and it was beginning to worry you, she did this every now and then and it usually meant she was dealing with some personal or family stuff, but it hasn't happened in a while since she was getting really good at communicating these things to you. You finally decided to corner her during the lunch hour and see what was going on. 

You spotted her walking down the hall as you left another classroom and you walked faster to catch up. 

“Melissa, hey can I uh, talk to you?” you asked softly and she stopped to look at you. She fidgeted and looked at her watch as if she was in a hurry, but eventually nodded.

“Yeah sure.”

You looked around before grabbing her hand and leading her to one of the far stairwells you often met up in since it hardly got used. You waited for the door to shut before sitting on one of the steps.

“Mel, what's been going on? I haven't seen you all week.” you asked softly and she sighed her hands coming to cover her face in frustration before they ran through her hair and she started pacing slowly. 

“I know and I'm sorry.” she muttered, not looking at you. 

“Is it something between you and your family, or work, or.. Us?” you hesitated with the last topic and she shook her head. You stood up and grabbed her hips to get her to stop pacing and face you. You pushed her to lean against the wall behind her and she sighed. 

“I have to tell you something but if anyone finds out i'll get fired.” she said plainly.

You laughed, thinking she was joking. “Mel, come on, don't be dramatic.” 

“I wish I was Y/n but I'm serious, and it's been tearing me up all week long and I didnt think I could hold it in if I was around you.” she smiled and your own smile faded as you looked between her eyes. 

“Just tell me it's fine, I won't say anything!” you said sincerely and she nodded.

“Ok, um, I was told that due to lack of resources and financial issues, they are going to…fire some people.” she said with a worried tone and sympathetic but slightly awkward smile. Melissa did plan on telling you but she saw your worried gaze and panicked, skipping around the truth. 

“What? You’re kidding me! How do you know this? Do we know who yet?” you asked with furrowed brows.

“Um Barb told me and I got it confirmed by Ava and Jamie, but we don't know who or how many.” she stated plainly.

“Oh my gosh, I mean i'm sure we will be fine, it’ll be the last one in the first one out.” you said looking down as you shook your head. 

Melissa looked at you and felt her chest tighten, she felt panic wash over her again and pushed herself off the wall.

“Well I got to go back to class hon.” She chirped, walking over to stand in front of you. 

“Yeah I should head back too. Ill see you later tonight?” you asked and she moved her hands to your hips. 

“Umm it's maybe on tonight, I have papers to grade and stuff. Ill see you tomorrow night though, for drinks with the others yeah?” she said with a cheery tone as she lifted your chin to look at her. 

“Yeah.” 

“Great, and I’ll pick you up so you don't have to drive.” she smiled and leaned in for a kiss. You kissed her softly and slowly, you hands moving to slide into the back pockets of her jeans, her hands roamed down to your hips again to grasp them firmly and you pushed into the kiss harder. Finally you pulled away to get air and your cheeks flushed a deep red. 

“Fuck Schemmenti. Bring that energy tomorrow night.” You whispered out of breath, your eyes looking into her with heavy lids. She laughed and pulled away, kissing your cheek and leaving.

--

The group that was going to the bar consisted of Barbara, Melissa, Ava, Jacob, and Janine, and of course yourself. Gregory opted out so he could come pick the others up when we were all ready to leave. You were finishing your makeup as you waited for Melissa to get here, excitement to go out with everyone filled your chest, the only downside was having to act just friendly with Melissa after having some drinks. You were fine if you took it slow and paced yourself, but one too many cocktails and Melissa turns into a lone flame, dancing in the air before your eyes, illuminating your whole face and making it devilishly hot. She draws you in and you can't feel satisfaction or peace until you have her around you. Melissa loves this about you obviously, and nine times out of ten she gives you what you want. 

So tonight you were sticking to beer. Or at least that's what you told yourself.

You heard a car door and quickly headed downstairs, grabbing your purse and locking the door behind you. You were wearing casual yet flattering clothes, ones that accentuated your features and wouldn't make you overheat. 

“Hey baby.” Melissa smiled as she got out of the car and opened your door. 

“Hi love.” you said, giving her a peck before getting into the passenger seat. She shut the door and walked around to get back in. You changed the station as she did so and when she got back in she looked at you, your face gazing out the window. 

“Night just started and you’re already being a brat.” her tone was low and sarcastic and you couldn't help the grin that spread on your face.

“I don't know what you’re talking about.” you said slyly and she scoffed, pulling out of the driveway and heading to the bar. It wasn't far from her house thankfully, and you were able to get decent parking. The first hour went by fast, and Ava had made everyone do a shot when they got there, so you made sure to be careful. You all just talked and gossiped for most of the night, watching drunk people do karaoke at the front of the bar. You looked over and saw a pool table and got excited, you nudged Melissa and she looked over. 

“Maybe we can sneak away for a round or two?” you said looking at her, she turned to look at you, her face dangerously close to yours. 

“Damn already? I thought you were pacing yourself.” she smirked and you rolled your eyes.

“Of pool.” you remarked and she tilted her head with a teasing glance.

“Mhm. Lead the way.” she said and you got up, going to the bar to get you and Melissa another beer, and then heading to the table, Melissa took the cold bottle from your hand, her fingers brushing yours and you smiled at her. 

“Watch it.” She just shrugged in response and you grabbed a stick, handing her one after she finished setting it up. You moved aside and let her break and she looked at you with a spine chilling smirk. You watched as she bent over, your eyes tracing over her back and around the curve of her ass, her fingers delicately placed around the stick as she moved it back and forth. You took a sip to cool you down, and looked away. You looked over at the group and they were still in a deep gossip session. You looked back and Melissa was lining up for another shot and you laughed. 

“How many did you get in on the break?” you questioned and she looked up at you after hitting another and making it in.

“Two.” she moved to stand in front of you, lining up her next shot, she bent down slowly and you looked in  disbelief, looking around to see if anyone noticed, she pressed her ass into your center and right as she went to hit the ball you gripped her hips, your thumbs sliding up her shirt slightly so they could press into her skin with force, she tensed up and let out a small gasp and it caused her to miss the shot. She stood up quickly and looked at you. 

“So that's how we are going to play huh?” you smiled and walked to take a shot. You got two in before you were getting ready for your next and Melissa started to fidget with her heel, she stood across from you, her hand on the side of the table. She leaned down slightly, fixing the non existent issue and causing her cleavage to be directly in your eyeline. You looked into her eyes that were dark and secretive. You couldn't help your eyes dipping back down to her perfect breasts and you rolled your eyes, taking the shot and standing back up before the ball even made it halfway to the pocket. Of course to no one's surprise, you missed, and you went to sip your drink while Melissa took her next turn.

Eventually it was down to Melissa and you both one away from the 8 ball, you had both continued playing dirty and Melissa just happened to be better at doing that, and with assets like hers it's easier to do. Melissa paused to drink her beer as she prepared for her turn. You quickly went to the bartender and ordered two shots, heading back over to Melissa. She looked at you and raised a brow. 

“Thanks hon but I probably shouldn't drink anymore.” she said kindly and you downed one of the shots as you looked at her. Your eyes were determined and full of admiration and a hunger to win. 

“Wasn’t for you.” you said with a smile as you did the other one. She looked at you confused and you walked over to her. 

“Now, if you win, you will get to deal with future drunk me however you’d like.” you said smiling. Her jaw slacked and she looked over your face.

“And if you win?” she asked with a curious smile.

“I'm going to go home alone, and get myself off. And if you talk me through it you may get a few selfies.” you muttered softly and she felt her muscles tense up at the thought. As hot as that would be, she loves when you are drunk and needy, she doesn't want to miss out on this. 

“And we are playing clean from here on.” you added and she agreed, walking to line up her shot. You watched as you sipped your drink, the drinks finally catching up to you and your legs suddenly felt weak. You stayed standing and focused your vision on Melissa, your blood rising in temperature as your eyes looked over her. 

“That look is not playing clean.” she muttered, not looking away from the ball. You didn't say anything and she took her shot. The force of her strong arm caused a loud pop to be heard and it made your core twitch and your legs push together. She made the shot and you scoffed. Her hazey eyes met yours with a cocky smirk and you looked away, when you looked over Barbara was heading towards you and you straightened up. Melissa noticed and she smiled. 

“Hey Barb, what's up?” Melissa asked and she sat down at the high table next to us.

“Jacob and Ava are getting into it about some stupid show.” she sighed and you laughed 

“Wow you left Janine alone over there?” you looked over and she was sinking into the booth sitting between the other two.

“Mm. How's your game?” she asked and Melissa's smiled widened. 

“I'm winning of course.” she didn't hesitate to state and you rolled your eyes.

“Just go on already, Schemmenti.” She looked at you with a daring eye and you laughed. 

“I'm gonna go to the bathroom, Barb, take my shot for me.” she said, handing her stick to the woman before disappearing. You sat in shock and Barb looked at you. 

“I won't lie, Y/n, I had a lot of beverages tonight.” she smiled walking over to the table, you smiled in response hoping this would give you an advantage.

“That's okay, me too.” you laughed, the drinks were really hitting you now and time seemed to slow down as you waited. You could hear the people talking loudly over the music, and the colorful lights made everything glow.

“Yeah I don't blame you, I would in your situation. It really is just awful.” she said looking for the best place to shoot from. You furrowed your brows in confusion and looked over at her. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, your words slightly slurred.

“Well you know with the whole letting you go, situation.” she looked up at you and the loud noises along with drinks in your system caused you to have a harder time piecing it together. She noticed and pushed her own brows together.

“Wait, Melissa didn't tell you? Woah I was sure she would have.” she said shocked and you shook your head.

“Melissa?” you said at the mention of her name and Barbara nodded. 

“Yeah Ava said they had to let you go.” she said as she took the shot. You watched as she missed and you stepped back. “Damn I missed.” 

“When did you tell her?” you asked and she paused to think.

“Hmm like two weeks ago.” she said as she set the stick down. Behind her you saw Melissa walking over, she came into focus and you saw her face turn down, surely a reaction to your own stoic and melancholy expression. Your brows tight together and your eyes full of confusion. She walked closer and you sighed. 

“Two weeks you knew and you didn't tell me.” you muttered and Melissa immediately realized what happened. Barbara looked at you both, confused and unsure if her suspicions were correct. She muttered and apology to Melissa and walked back to the group. You didn't say anything else and just grabbed your purse and walked away, you paused at the others to let them know you were leaving cause you didn't feel well, and headed out the door. Melissa grabbed her own belongings and hurried to close out the tab, she told the others she was driving you home, and hurried out after you. You had already started your journey down the street, your feet hurt and your legs were slightly numb from the cold night air nipping at them. Your vision was slightly delayed, but overall you were conscious enough to make it home at a decent time. You finally realized why you were walking away and you sighed. You realized Melissa had not only not told you but had the chance and lied instead. You loved your job so hearing this information stung. Learning your girlfriend that you met here, knew before you though, that hurt worse. 

“Y/n, baby please let me drive you.” she shouted after you and you shook your head. 

“I need to clear my thoughts. I'll be fine.” you said and you heard her heels stop clicking. You figured she gave up with your stubborn attitude and went back. No more than a minute later, she was pulled up driving next to you as you walked. 

“Sweetie, I'm sorry, please get in the car and then we can talk about it.” she said, genuine sorrow and worry laced in her tone which led you to look up at her.

“I dont want to fucking talk Melissa.” you said with your voice raised, walking ahead once more. 

“Get in the car.” she demanded with a flat tone that intimidated you to your bones. You ignored her and she stopped the car, you stopped walking and looked over and she raised an eyebrow at you. “Just let me get you home safe and ill give you all the space you want.” she said softly and the amount of care that seeped out of her words made your heart flutter and you walked over and got in the car. After a few moments of silence you sighed. 

“Did you talk to anyone else?” you asked and she nodded.

“After I found out I went to Ava’s office and she was with Jamie and they told me there was nothing they could do. Trust me when I say I tried baby. Then they said I would get replaced if I told you. You nodded in shock and chewed on your lip before starting back up.

“God I mean did you tell them to cut someone else? To fire fucking Gary or something?” you asked and she nodded. 

“Yes baby I tried but they said they had no other choice.” her brows pushed together as she rubbed your thigh in comfort. 

“Fuck.” you muttered looking down and running a hand through your hair. “What the hell am I going to do, I mean finding a new job isn't hard but leaving my friends and you. Not to mention I'll have to go work at another bro-ey tech department.” you rolled your eyes and she sighed.

“I know hon, I'm sorry. I will help you find a new position and I'm sure we have time to find a good fit.” she tried her best to comfort you but you were so angry that Ava allowed this to happen and you knew you would either snap or start crying so you just turned and looked out the window.

“And you… why didn't you just tell me?” you muttered with judgment and her mouth turned down in guilt. 

“I don't know. I just panicked.” she said softly and you nodded, accepting her reasoning and deciding to just forget about it for tonight. You got to your house and insisted she didn't need to walk you to the door, so you grabbed your things and looked at her with an awkward smile. 

“I guess ill maybe, see you at work on Monday.” you joked and she just stared at you with sympathy, you kissed her cheek and she kissed yours before you got out and headed inside. 

After you got inside you immediately showered and got ready for bed, you finally checked your phone as you turned on your TV and sat on your plush comforter. There were messages from Melissa, one letting you know she made it home, and one apologizing again. As you read them she texted again asking if you were mad and you pondered for a moment. You sat up and flipped to your camera, sitting against the pillows, you held your arm out, your thighs up to your mouth in frame, wearing a sheer burgundy panty set. You looked at it before sending it along with ‘we are okay’ and then you put your phone on silent, and went to sleep. Leaving Melissa with nothing but the photo of you.

--

this was a quick little one I hope yall like these angsty fics sorry about no smut

please send int requests yall!! and feel free to ask for other characters and ill lyk if I write for em.