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femmefatalevibe · 1 year

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Femme Fatale Guide: How To Master An "Effortlessly Elegant" & Put-Together Look

Table of Contents:

Treat your skin like royalty

Take ample care of your natural hair

Dress in crisp neutral outfits that cater to your body shape

Choose your accessories wisely

Embrace feature-enhancing makeup

Keep your nails clean, filed, and simple

Regarding your signature scent(s)

Follow your dental & bodily hygiene routines religiously

Treat your skin like royalty:

Use high-quality skincare twice a day

Wear sunscreen every day

Remove your makeup every night before bed no matter what

Use makeup that doesn't clog your pores/irritate your skin

Change your pillowcases weekly

Eat plenty of produce & drink lots of water

Prioritize sleep

Limit or eliminate alcohol, cigarettes, caffeine, and processed foods/sugary drinks

Keep your skin exfoliated/derma-planed

Take ample care of your natural hair:

Use high-quality shampoo/conditioner combos that suit your hair type & don't cause build-up

Hydrate with a scalp mask 1-4 times a month

Use cold or lukewarm water to wash your hair

Apply shampoo to the roots/hair covering your scalp and conditioner only on the "ponytail" section of your hair

Use a specialty hair towel after getting out of the shower

Always comb wet hair and brush 1-3 times a day when dry

Limit heat on your hair when possible & always use a heat protectant every time you do

Use non-elastic or silk hair ties

Get regular trims at least 3-4 times per year (get your hair layered if it's very thick)

Try to limit how much you dye or, especially bleach, your hair and do elaborate styles with tons of heat & harsh products

Dress in crisp neutral outfits that cater to your body shape:

Embrace minimalist basics (tees, tanks, blouses, sweaters, jeans, trousers, blazers, leather jackets, coats, etc.) in high-quality fabrics (Pima cotton, Merino wool, Tencel, mulberry silk, etc.)

Choose options in black, white, grey, charcoal beige, navy, burgundy, or cream depending on your skin tone and preferences

Invest in a collection of sleek footwear options (black boots, loafers, black pumps, white sneakers, etc.) in minimalist, timeless styles that suit the color palette, hemlines & proportions of your go-to outfits

Ensure your shoes and accessories feel proportional to the weight/silhouette of your outfit, color-coordinate with the rest of your look, and have streamlined hardware from head-to-toe (all silver, all gold, or one piece that mixes silver/gold and another gold & silver piece each to balance out the color palette)

Keep all of your clothes steam and lint-rolled, so they look crisp & fresh all-day

Befriend your tailor to take in or let out clothes as needed when purchased off the rack

Choose clothes/styles that flatter your body shape and proportions

Utilize belts and bra tape to adjust the waist, keep shirts tucked in, and keep straps from falling down or create an impromptu cuff/hem on your pants

When in doubt, select a neutral head-to-toe monochrome outfit

If on a budget, consider choosing black, grey, camel beige items to hide fabric imperfections that could cheapen your look

Choose your accessories wisely:

Select sleek, simple neutral (& almost exclusively) monochrome shoes made with smooth (recycled/vegan) leather with

Pair almost any outfit with a shoe featuring a slight platform, block heel, kitten heel, and/or a sharply pointed toe to elongate your silhouette

Complement your outfit with structured, pared-back handbags with no logos (Focus on quality and construction, not the brand name) in a neutral shade and timeless silhouette

For jewelry, choose at most one statement piece and all others should be focused on different areas of the body (e.g. don't mix statement earrings with layered/bold necklaces or stacked rings * bracelets). When in doubt, choose simple diamond chains or earrings, sleek bangles or chainlink necklaces & bracelets, simple pendant necklaces, and minimalist rings in hardware that all go together

Embrace feature-enhancing makeup:

Cover up any dark circles, blemishes, or hyperpigmentation with a color-matched concealer

Lightly contour with a bronzer that complements your skin tone

Fill in your brows for a naturally full look (or get them professionally tinted)

Apply a light wash of rose, coral, or mauve blush

Use black mascara with a little bit of eyeliner and/or a subtle wash of brown eyeshadow on the lids

Apply a "your lips but better" nude shade or "just kissed' berry lipstick or pigmented lip balm for a subtle wash of color

Keep your nails clean, filed, and simple:

Maintain cut, cleaned, and filed short nails

Opt for a square or almond nail shape

Choose a timeless nail shade (pink, nude, red, beige, dark cherry, navy, dark purple, black) with no nail art

Hydrate your hands and scrub under your nails daily

Regarding your signature scent(s):

Ensure your body wash/lotion and perfume scents don't clash

Test perfumes for a trial day to ensure they smell divine with your unique pheromones

Choose a fragrance appropriate for the seasonal/occasion

Apply a dab on each wrist and on your neck/behind the ears. If the scent doesn't project well on you, try applying these small dabs on the cuffs and shoulders of your jacket/walk into it to get it on your hair (if it would stain your clothes)

Don't layer more than one heady perfume at a time or scents that don't have complementary and/or shared notes

Follow your dental & bodily hygiene routines religiously:

Floss every day (after each meal if possible)

Brush your teeth with an electric toothbrush twice a day

Have mints on hand if you're a garlic, spice, or coffee lover

Keep your lips & hands well-moisturized and protected with SPF

Shower your body daily and be extra diligent in scrubbing your privates, everything behind, and under your arms

Don't use very hot water in the shower (it burns/dries out your skin)

Exfoliate 2-3 times a week with a sugar scrub

Moisturize daily or anytime you get out of the shower

Apply SPF on any exposed sun (especially in the summer or when the UV index is high in your area)

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mwahmimi · 17 days

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you could write a one shot where the reader (who is part of the bau) always acquits or does what Spencer says, letting him talk for hours and Do you also write down facts that you find interesting? I think that's a very nice thing. (also if there is some smut afterwards I don't complain somehow).

p.s. I love your stories<3

Pretty as a vine, sweet as a grape🍇

(Hi! I’m sorry I know I don’t usually add comments onto my fics anymore but I just needed to say that I loved writing this. This concept was so fun to write and I’m quite happy with how it came out.)

“How is everything you say somehow so profound but yet so socially inept?” You chuckle, shaking your head through your laughter as you look up at him. Spencer laughs along with you sarcastically, an unamused fake grin painted on his face. He takes a step closer to you, lifting the umbrella over your head, protecting you from the unforgiving Quantico rain. Spencer leads you forward, guiding you with his hand on your lower back as he rubs his palm against your damp jacket. “Back to my place?” You speak, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “We’ll get sick if we’re out in the rain too long Spence.” Accepting your offer he links his arm around yours and you begin to walk down the street together. “Sickness is not directly caused by rain, but being outside in rainy conditions could increase your exposure to airborne viruses that might be present.” Spencer explains in his trademark, matter of fact tone. Giggling, as you fiddle with your keys, searching for the right one to unlock your apartment door. He sneaks them out of your hand, inspecting the lock on your door and the keys in hand, picks out the correct key and unlocks the door with a timid smile. “Clean towels in the bathroom if you want to dry yourself off.” You recommend him the blue one, it’s new and fluffy and completely unused, knowing he’s more likely to feel comfortable with the knowledge that it’s new. You want him to feel nothing less than comfortable. Spencer nods his head and makes his way to the bathroom. At the loss of his presence you reach into your bag, pulling out your notebook and pen. Scribbling down some nonsense as a scrappy, badly written diary entry as quickly as you can. Your journals were the one thing that held every detail of your life, not even your social media pages held that much information on you. You dot your i’s and cross your t’s, swiftly closing the book and burrowing it inside your handbag again.

A few days pass and you’re not feeling up to scratch. With the pharmacy not filling your prescription, mixed with the depths of your unrelenting depressing you’re struggling to keep your head above water. The files of paperwork stack up higher than they should on your desk, coffee rings stain the wood on your desk as it wobbles under your writing. Each case seemed to be more emotionally demanding than the last. But there was Spencer. He stumbles over to you, clumsy and un-spatially aware as ever, placing a bag of baked goods in front of you. The smell of cinnamon hits you immediately and you melt into the back of your chair, your lips pin up into a beaming smile. The monster in your head silencing just for a moment under the soft, dulcet act of Reid. “You’ve- you’ve seemed down. I didn’t want to pry incase you didn’t want to share, but sugar stimulates feel-good endorphins associated with reward. So, cinnamon buns!” He announced, his voice airy and angelic as he scratches the back of his head with his left hand; his right fiddling with the buttons on the stomach of his cardigan. He needn’t say anything more, the smile on your face and your back finally resting against the chair, regaining posture, says all the gratitude he needs. Spencer simply taps the bag on your desk with a grin and returns to his desk. Not only did he leave you with a sugary treat, he left with you with more of off the top of his head statistics that you couldn’t get enough of. Each one of them showing he cares, he thinks of you. He puts thought into everything he says, whether or not his words land with the people he speaks to is irrelevant. He shows he cares in his own unique way and you simply cannot get enough of it, you find your journal once more, leaving todays page decorated with his facts about sugar. Reaching into the bag from the local bakery, you take out your bun, wrapping the base with the napkin. With your first bite, you grin. Even if it didn’t ‘stimulate your endorphins’ it still tasted like heaven.

Friday night rolled around eventually, this week had felt never-ending. Slotted next to Spencer on the jet, you reach out and poke his side, demanding his attention. He jerks back with a giggle, you always forget he never grew out of being ticklish. You smirk and tease, “Oh right… ticklish. I forget you’re a little baby.” His cheek gain a new pink blush that reaches all the way to the tips of his ears. “You can’t grow out of your nerve endings in your skin sending electrical signals to the somatosensory cortex. Plus- most adults are t-ticklish.” He stutters over his words, almost as if they are too shy to be spoken. His hands rise to protect himself as your fingers threaten to poke him again, he chuckles in anticipation. “Whatever you say genius, deny it all you want. It’s still adorable.” Your voice soft and teasing as you smirk at him again. “Movie night tomorrow?” You suggest, your hands moving back to your lap as he begins to re-adjust himself and relax. Spencer nods, “Can we watch Star Wars?” He asks, sounding like an excited puppy. You roll your eyes playfully and smile, “Fine. As long as its Revenge of the Sith.” Spence chuckles, shaking his head and rises from his seat, heading to the jet bathroom. As is your new routine, your diary finds its way to the table in front of you. Scrambling to write today’s entry before Spencer returns, you try to remember his every word as you write. As you hear the door unlock you practically throw the book behind you and sit in front of it. Praying that the man with the 187 IQ doesn’t notice, should be fine, right?

Settling the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, you get the TV set up ready for Spencer’s arrival. Everything is perfect, you’d bought his favourite popcorn, salted obviously. You’d also brewed a pot of the tea you’d made him last time, it was just English Breakfast tea but he’d sworn it was mind-blowing. The door is knocked, three times, Spencer’s lucky number. “It’s open!” You bellow your voice and put your feet up onto the sofa. Spence walks in, lifting your legs and placing them down on his lap when he settles next to you. He places his bag down on the floor beside him, but something bashes against it. Reaching down to find the offending item, you find its your journal. “Hey, y/n. I think you left this book on the floor. Where does it live so I can put it back in its rightful home?” He questions, you feel the blood drain out of your face, you pale immediately. “No- its okay! Just gimmie.” You respond, but he notices your shaking hands reaching out to snatch it. Spencer pulls away, opening the first page. “What are these huh?” He teases uncharacteristically. “You writing little love letters?” He jokes, before looking down at the pages and blushing when he reads his own name. He reads at an alarming speed at the best of times, but when he’s transfixed on text, he can read even faster.

“You’re- you’re writing about me? I said every word here.” Spencer’s eyes widen, the hazel irises expanding as he turns the pages rapidly and skims the text. “Oh you just had to write that. Didn’t you?” He chuckles, reading your interactions from yesterday on the jet. “I. I just find you interesting Spencer. I know everyone teases you and interrupts you when you speak, I know they don’t appreciate you enough. They take your words for granted, even when they’re so profound.” Your pale face begins to blush, it was enough that Spencer had read your private diary, but having to admit your feelings that you’ve been trying to repress and ignore, it was seemingly impossible. “I want to remember the things you say because they’re important, and every time you say something personal to me, I want to treasure it. Bottle it and keep it forever, you know?”

Spencer, for once, is at a loss for words. His cheeks burning under the heat of his blush, he opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. His brain searching for anything to say, its like he’s frantically looking through the filing cabinet of words in his head and still coming up empty. With no vocabulary on his tongue, he leans forward and crashes his lips into yours. They’re soft and ample, featherlight against your own. No concerns of the lip gloss smearing and decorating his lips. Pulling away with a confused expression, “Spencer?” Your one word question is all you can say as you run your fingers through his hair. Your nails scratching against the back of his head softly and he leans into your touch wanting more. “I can’t help myself. I’ll stop if you want, if you didn’t want that I apologise profusely and I take full responsibility of my actions and I’ll do anything to make it up to you…” He gets in his own head about the moment just gone. “No, I definitely wanted that. Definitely.” You smile cheekily, rubbing your thumb against his heated cheeks. Spencer leans in once more, gasping into your mouth trying to dig deeper and deeper into your soul. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this. I just don’t- I don’t know how to get here. You know?” He explains, his hands find the small of your back and pull you closer to him. Your index finger reaches up, shh-ing against his lips. Silencing him to keep him from rambling for the first time ever. You scramble up onto his lap, leaning over him playfully. “You’re perfect Spencer Reid. Without even knowing it you’ve taken care of me for years. Let me take care of you.”

You roll your hips slowly underneath him, smirking as he fiddles with the back of your bra strap. Even with an IQ of 187 he can’t figure out how to unbuckle a bra. You smirk and let out a giggle and he blushes, “So needy already?” You tease, your voice hoarse and desperate. He grips onto your hips as if he’s deprived, pushing into your lips, kissing you like a man starved. Spencer’s breath is shaky and weak, you take his chin into your thumb and forefinger, lifting it up, deepening the kiss. “I want you.” He speaks shakily, “I know. I want you too.” You say, holding his cheeks in the palms of your hands. Rutting your hips against his bulge again, he convulses underneath you. He gasps and rushes his hand over his mouth and you know what’s happened. Not wanting to embarrassed him, you slide off of him. Slotting yourself next to him on the couch, trying to figure out the social expectation is when your crush finishes in his boxers before you’ve even touched him. You settle on pulling him into a cuddle, rubbing your palm up and down his back, feeling his boney spine through his skin. He looks up at you, his eyes wide and full of adoration, looking like pools of honey. “I need a few minutes, and maybe some of your magic tea.” He chuckles and you sigh in relief at the self depreciating humour he responds to the situation with. “Of course pretty boy.” You press your lips on the top of his forehead softly, breathing in his shampoo and cologne. He smells like coconut and sweetness. You jokingly reach out for your journal. “Today Spencer ended up cumming in his boxers.” You giggle together, your bodies rising and falling with each breath and your legs intertwined. The next hour could take a lifetime to arrive and you’d be a-okay with that.

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theambitiouswoman · 2 years

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Ways to Add Luxury to Your Life

1. Stop saying “you can’t afford it”

2. Walk through or stop for a drink at a luxurious hotel

3. Create your own luxurious evening routine

4. Create your own luxurious morning routine

5. Schedule in something fancy

6. Wear your favorite handbag and shoes

7. Find your signature scent

8. Do your hair and make up

9. Shop your wardrobe

10. Choose your top 3 must do things everything

11. Cook from scratch

12. Drink champagne

13. Buy silk linens for your bed

14. Celebrate your wins

15. Personalized stationary

16. Visit museums and art galleries

17. Shop at farmers markets

18. Eat organic and fresh foods

19. Go on hikes

20. Play uplifting music

21. Plant a vegetable garden

22. Use lavender pouches in your drawers

23. Exercise daily

24. Only drink quality tea and coffee

25. Wear pretty/silk lingerie and cute lounge wear

26. Have a creative hobby

27. Visit the spa and get facials regularly

28. Buy fresh flowers

29. Use quality skincare and makeup

30. Take hot baths

31. Buy essential oils

32. Treat yourself

33. Add lemon to your water

34. Go to a high end gym or Lounge

35. Read a book before bed

36. Stop saving your nice things for later. Use them now

37. Use an exfoliator for your body

38. Stretching and yoga

39. Go to an artisan cafe for fresh croissants

40. Make your own dressings for your foods

41. Clean your house and your car

42. Take a detox shot in the morning

43. Treat yourself to a professional blow dry

44. Nails always done

45. Bake fresh cookies

46. Watch a classic and elegant film like Breakfast at Tiffany’s

47. Have a full feminine luxurious shower routine

48. Clean your makeup brushes and arrange them like a beauty counter for the next time you use them

49. Learn about art and wines

50. Decorate your home like a 5 star hotel

51. Use a pillow spray

52. Host a dinner party

53. If possible, hire a chef or cleaner to help you

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the-fiction-witch · 3 months

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Mr Crown P2

Media - Morbius Character - Lucien Crown Couple - Lucien Milo X OC Reader - (OC) Anastasia Morton (Assistant) Rating - Sexy Af Word Count - 2106

The day passed slowly for Lucien, waking up and having his medication doing a few small tasks here and there, his excitement for the gala building gradually as the hours ticked by. He spent the afternoon in a flurry of prep for the event, his mind occasionally wandering to thoughts of Anastasia and wondering what she would look like all dolled up for the event.

He made sure to freshen up and dress in his most expensive black suit and red silk shirt, eagerly awaiting her arrival at seven.

As he had his second to last medicine for the evening, he tried a few times to get his tie right but it just wouldn't work, in the end, his butler did it even if he didn't do it quite right either,

Lucien looked in the mirror, assessing his appearance. The suit hung off his now slender frame, emphasizing his weakened state. He took a deep breath, feeling a pang of frustration at having to rely on a cane, but he knew he had no other choice. He turned to the butler standing behind him, a hint of irritation in his voice. "Is this the best you can do with my tie?"

"My apologies Mr Crown," The man nodded,

He let out a heavy sigh. "No matter. It'll have to suffice for now. Where is she anyway? She should have arrived by now."

"In the garage waiting, sir."

Lucien raised an eyebrow. His curiosity piqued, and he gave one last glance at himself in the mirror before making his way to the garage and towards where Anastasia was waiting. He hobbled down using his cane to make his way down to the garage filled with his many luxury cars, and he stopped short at the sight, the black Bentley sat freshly cleaned and polished practically sparkling, and in front of it stood Anastasia,

She wore strap red designer heels, her hair up Glamour's curls, her make-up impeccable, silver necklace of roses around her neck with a matching bracelet, a silver and rose handbag over her shoulder and her dress… Her gown was a floor length off shoulder silk dress with a high slit that looked as if it had been made to measure to accentuate every single Inch of her a matching red to his own shirt,

"I am acceptable Mr crown?"

Lucien's mouth went dry as he laid eyes on her. The sight of her in the stunning red dress, coupled with her flawless makeup and hair, left him speechless. He stood there for a moment, taking in her appearance, his gaze roaming over her curves and the way the dress seemed to hug her body in all the right places. "Acceptable? No, no, my dear." He paused, his voice slightly hoarse, his eyes unable to look away from her. "You are downright sensational." He took a few steps closer, his cane clicking against the floor, his eyes drinking in her figure. He wanted to reach out and touch her, to run his hands over the silky fabric, to feel her body beneath it. But restraint won out, and instead, he stopped just a few feet away from her, his gaze locked on her face and then roaming down until he was shamelessly admiring her body. His tone held a hint of approval and desire as he spoke again. "You look like a dream, Anastasia."

"Thank you," she smiled, "As strong as always but extra handsome today," she complimented him, "Come here" She immediately took his tie off and fixed it herself,

Lucien chuckled softly as she fixed his tie, Her proximity to him brought her scent to his nostrils, and he inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of her rose perfume and the closeness of her body. As she adjusted his tie, he couldn't help but appreciate her attentiveness. "Always making me presentable, are you? I'd be lost without you to fix my tie."

"I think without me, you'd have invested far more in clip ones," she chuckled,

He chuckled in response, knowing damn well her words were true. He knew he was hopeless with ties. "You're probably right. I'd be spending a fortune on clip ones."

"Shall we?" She asked glancing at the Bentley's back door,

"Of course. Lead the way, my dear."

She opened the back door and helped him inside before climbing in herself and shutting the door behind them, she nodded to the driver who started the Bentley and began to drive as soon as they were outside Lucien’s garages the driver rolled up the partition,

Lucien settled into the back seat, as the partition went up, shutting them off from the driver, a strange sense of intimacy enveloped them in the back seat. The world outside was forgotten as they were alone together in the luxury of the Bentley, the hum of the engine surrounding them. He glanced over at her, taking in her beauty once again. He couldn't help but feel a pang of insecurity in comparison to her elegance. He ran a hand through his thinning hair, a sigh escaping his lips.

she noticed his hand and gave his hair a slight adjustment making his thinning from his sickness less noticeable,

Lucien's breath caught in his throat as she adjusted his hair, a flutter of vulnerability running through him as she touched him so gently. It served as a stark reminder of his illness, the reason for his weakened state. He looked into her eyes, his expression carrying a mixture of gratitude and insecurity. He was grateful for her presence, her support, but at the same time, he felt ashamed of his weakness and how she must see him, he didn’t want her to see him like that, like this.

She coughed breaking the silence moving from his eyes, "so, which side did you want me on?"

Lucien blinked, snapping out of his thoughts at her question. He considered it for a moment, his gaze roaming over her figure, his mind warring with itself. A part of him wanted to have her seated next to him so he could be closer to her, feel her warmth beside him. But at the same time, he was hesitant, thinking of how it would look, him with a stunning young woman on his arm while he looked weak and ill. After a moment, he let out a soft sigh. "Next to me."

She rolled her eyes a little playfully "Yes Lucien, however it's not a very good look for press or fellow business people to see us climb out the car a debate what arm I need to hold. I don't want to cause you any more trouble," she said glancing to his cane, "So whatever makes it easier,"

Lucien chuckled softly at her playful eye roll. She had a point. He didn't want to seem even weaker than he already appeared. He sighed, his hand involuntarily gripping the cane tighter. "You're right, as always. It would look quite strange to see us debating over what arm you should hold." He grumbled slightly, a hint of irritation in his voice at the idea of his illness being on display. But then he looked at her, her beauty offering some consolation. “My right, hand without my cane.”

“Perfect,” she agreed,

"You’ll sit next to me?"

"My seat is next to yours at the gala I'll be next to you."

Lucien nodded, a sense of relief washing over him. It was a suitable compromise he supposed. The thought of having her by his side the whole evening offered him some comfort. "Good. I want you nearby. I'm certain you'll be the most gorgeous one there, anyway… Thank you, for coming with me."

"not a problem, a gala is a gala, a business can be done anytime, the most important thing is looking after you," she smiled briefly resting her hand on his,

A soft, almost imperceptible shiver ran through Lucien's body as she rested her hand on his. It was such a gentle, yet powerful gesture. He appreciated her concern for him, and her desire to take care of him. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice slightly hoarse, his hand subconsciously turning to intertwine his fingers with hers. "But you also mustn't neglect your well-being. I want you to enjoy yourself tonight as well."

"I'll do my best, try not to be so... Business."

Lucien chuckled at her comment, amused at her suggestion. "Me? Not be so business? That's a rather tall order, my dear." He gave her hand a slight squeeze, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "But I'll try to remember how to socialize without discussing stocks and investment portfolios. You have my word." He chuckled again, the sound weak but genuine.

She chuckled as she glanced out the blacked-out windows seeing they were almost there lining up for the drop off as all galas are, about ten minutes before they'd be greeted by guests and press so it was final checks,

Lucien fussed over his appearance, ensuring his tie was straight and his hair was presentable. He adjusted his suit, trying to hide his weakness, the way his once muscular frame had diminished.

Anastasia noticed his fussing as she always did, she did feel a bit of pity knowing how much he hated how his illness made him appear to people, she wanted to cheer him up, and help him go to this gala feeling confident and happy. And she had a wicked little idea.

He turned to her, but then his gaze caught hers as she smiled at him in a rather wicked way. He raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "And what might you be smiling at so mischievously, Miss Morton?"

She softly took his hand again, leaning a little closer to him.

Lucien looked down at her hand wrapping around his, her touch gentle. He felt a mixture of comfort and vulnerability at the intimate contact. He laced his fingers with hers, his grip slightly weak but firm nonetheless. He looked into her eyes, a soft, vulnerable expression on his face. "You have a devilish glint in your gaze, my dear. I feel like you're up to no good."

She didn't answer she just shrugged and simply closed the gap and let her lips meet his,

Lucien's breath hitched as she closed the gap between them and their lips met. The moment her lips touched his, a surge of desire and need coursed through him. He responded to the kiss immediately, his hand on hers trembling slightly as he leaned into the kiss, deepening it.

She kissed back resting her hand on his jaw and bringing him closer as the kiss became heavier,

He broke the kiss momentarily, his breathing ragged and heavy, his forehead resting against hers. "Anastasia..." he murmured her name, his voice thick with need. But he quickly returned to her lips letting his tongue slip into her mouth which she happily encouraged,

She moved his hand intertwined with hers and let him touch her silk dress running up her waist and pressing his hand onto the top of her dress his hand cupping her breast through the silk,

Lucien's breath caught in his throat as she guided his hand, He pressed his hand against the silk, feeling the warmth and softness of her skin beneath, the contrast between the smoothness of the material and the contour of her body fueling his desire further. "Anastasia..." he murmured her name, his voice a little rougher than before, He let out a soft moan, his hand on her dress shifting slightly, pulling her closer to him. The world outside faded away, and all that mattered was the taste of her lips on his, the feel of her body against him, and the fire that burned deep within his core.

Lucien was lost in the kiss, his mind and body consumed by her. He had to fight back the primal urge to pull her onto his lap and have her right then and there. Instead, he let his hands explore her body, keeping the one she guided on her breast fondling and squeezing her as they kissed, the other running up her through the slit in her dress slipping under the dress to touch the warm skin of her thighs.

They kissed rather heavily in the back seat for what felt like hours, touching each other through their clothes and moaning against each other’s lips,

Finally she pulled away and gave his forehead a kiss, "Have fun tonight Lucien. And if you need my help, you ask for it." she reminds him just as the door opened and she climbed out into the galas red carpet,

He took a moment to regain his mind before he shook himself straight grabbing his cane and climbing out too,

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sheeple · 8 months

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Miracles don't exist | 37: Heartbroken and vengeful

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): Nothing really [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

You crawl on your hands and feet out of the lake, spluttering and coughing up some of the nasty lake water. You wipe your face in an effort to get rid of the lake bits while you find your footing.

You cast a drying spell on your clothes as the Golden Trio pulls clean clothes out of Hermione's beaded handbag and discuss the visions Harry saw and what their next step is.

Suddenly, the trio turns to you and you halt like a deer caught in headlights. Your eyes flicker from Harry to Hermione to Ron and back. "Sorry?"

"The next Horcrux is in Hogwarts."

You shake your head. "Snape's headmaster now. There is no way you can just waltz right in. And my cover is blown so I'm not much help either with sneaking you in."

Harry turns to Ron as he tugs down his shirt. "Uhm... well, we'll go to Hogsmeade, to Honeydukes. Take the secret passage in the cellar."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? The Dark Lord knows you're destroying Horcruxes. He knows which ones you've already managed to get rid of. Don't you think he has sent a horde of Death Eaters to police the streets?"

A chill runs down your spine as your head twitches to the side. Pain flashes through your neck and you bite down a groan, your hand shoots up to massage the sore spot. Hermione frowns as she watches you intently but chooses to stay silent.

By the looks of it, the trio has decided to go to Hogsmeade. You sigh. "I'll... I'll go to Sirius, alert the Order that you're on your way to Hogwarts."

Hermione jumps forward and engulfs you in a hug. You give her a small smile as you don't know if they survive this. With one last nod to the boys, you turn around and disapparate.

You stumble into the foyer of Grimmault Place, finding your footing as you catch yourself against the stair railing.

"Sirius?", you call out, pocketing your wand.

There's some noise coming from upstairs and when you look up, you see Sirius hanging over the railing. Once he recognises that it is you, he races down the stairs and halts just before you. His eyes rake over your face with a sorrowful look. He lays a hand on your cheek before engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug.

"Never EVER let me think you've died! You gave all of us quite the scare." He cups your face with tears in his eyes.

You sniff with a watery smile on your face. "Sorry, I'll try not to be dragged down the Malfoy cellar the next time."

The long-haired man before you gives you a look as he drags you into the kitchen. "First of all, you need a good meal. You look as thin as a sheet. Secondly, you gave me quite the scare young lady when Theodore ended up on my doorstep. Alone."

Casting your eyes down guiltily, you tug at the hem of one of your sleeves. "I've... I've heard he's out on a mission for the Order. In Europe."

Sirius' face softens. He takes your hands in his, making you look at him. "What you did was brave. I know how my cousin is and I wouldn't put it past her to murder him if he were there. To hurt you."

You do your best not to cry. You've cried way too much lately and you want to save your tears for when you really need it.

"How's Teddy?" Your voice sounds small.

"He... he believed You-Know-Who killed you. Begged Shacklebolt for a mission. To keep his mind busy, he said. But everybody knew he was heartbroken and vengeful."

Chewing slowly on your bottom lip, your eyes downcast. Does Teddy really think you are dead? The thought makes you sad. And sick. You lick your lips and take a step away from Sirius. "I need him to know I'm alive."

But Sirius shakes his head. "Shaklebolt has given us a strict no-contact order with Theodore. The Order is crumbling down anyways."

"So Shacklebolt sent Teddy on a suicide mission? You mean to tell me that my husband is out there somewhere and we can't contact him? Fuck that! Harry, Hermione, and Ron are on their way towards Hogwarts and they need every help they can get!"

You grab your wand and conjure your Patronus. "Find Teddy and tell him I'm safe and to come home", you say to the Hippogriff. The slivery creature bows its head before spreading its wings and flying away.

Sirius looks at you with his mouth agape. You raise your brows at him, a silent dare for him to question your actions.

"We have to collect what is left of the Order and send them to Hogwarts", you pocket your wand and run a hand over your hair, "The war ends today."

You stand next to Sirius as the Order makes its dramatic entrance into the Great Hall. Snape brandishes his wand but the students all dive away once McGonagall stands in front of Harry. She is the first to attack.

But the weird thing... Snape doesn't attack. He only casts defensive spells and lets the spells bounce off to the two Death Eaters behind him, rendering them unconscious.

A cheer echos through the Great Hall as Snape flees out of a window. But the cheerful mood is soon dampened by screams from every corner of the Great Hall.

"I know that many of you will want to fight", comes the whispering voice of the Dark Lord, and your head twitches involuntarily. "Some of you may even think that to fight is wise. But this is folly."

You make eye contact with Sirius to make sure you're not the only one who's hearing this.

"Give me Harry Potter. Do this and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave Hogwarts untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded. You have one hour."

A student from Slytherin steps forward and points at Harry. Of course, it's Pansy. "What are you waiting for? Someone grab him!"

You pull your wand out of your coat and point it at the girl. "Shut your bitch ass mouth, Parkinson."

Professor McGonagall looks quite shocked at your foul mouth, and so does Pansy. Gaping like a fish on dry land.

With a deep huff, you march toward the professor. "If I may, Professor. A fight is coming and I don't think it's fair to have to fight one's parents. And it's not safe for the younger ones. Wouldn't it be wise to let the Slytherins and junior years take shelter in the dungeons?"

Professor McGonagall's eyes travel over the student body and she nods. "You are right, Miss...", she trails off, unsure what to call you.

"Nott."

"Right. Mrs Nott is right. Mr Filch, if you would, I would like you to escort the Slytherin's and junior years to the Slytherin common room."

Mr Flitch reluctantly agrees and leads the students towards the dungeons.

You quickly grab Blaise's sleeve and stop him and Lorenzo. "Please stay stationed at the door. Keep the kids safe." Both boys nod and Blaise gives your shoulder a squeeze. Good luck it says silently.

"I presume you have a reason for returning, Potter", says McGonagall when Harry approaches the two of you. "What is it that you need?"

"Time, Professor. As much as you can get me."

The professor nods. "Do what you have to do. I'll secure the castle."

Harry gives you a look and you follow after him.

"Potter", McGonagall's words stop the two of you, "It's good to see you."

"Good to see you too, Professor. Hold the fort, Neville." And with that, he's off.

You pass by Sirius. "I'm going to help Harry. Promise me to keep yourself safe. Please keep an eye out for Teddy."

Sirius nods and gives you a tight hug. "Of course."

The castle is in chaos as students run from here to there. It's mostly last years helping the youngest children find their way to the dungeons and others readying for battle.

"Harry. Hermione and I have been thinking. It doesn't matter if we find a Horcrux."

"What do you mean?", asks Harry confused.

Hermione glances at you. "Unless we can destroy it."

"So, we were thinking..."

"Ron was thinking. It was Ron's idea. It's brilliant."

Oh, dear Salazar... you don't have time for this lovey-dovey stuff. And by the looks of it, neither does Harry.

"You destroyed Tom Riddle's diary with a basilisk fang, right? Me and Hermione know where we might find one."

An imaginary light bulb goes off above Harry. "Okay. Okay, but take this. That way you can find us when you get back." Harry presses some parchment in their hands before giving your arm a slight nudge, motioning you to hurry up the stairs after him.

"Where are you going?", you ask, rushing after him.

"Ravenclaw common room. We have to start somewhere! For the search for the diadem"

"So, the lost diadem of Ravenclaw is the next Horcrux? If I were the Dark Lord I would hide it somewhere in the castle where lost things are. You know, the lost diadem, it's in the name." You raise one eyebrow as you also wave a hand around, stating the obvious.

Harry gives you a surprised look. You cock your head to the side. Hasn't he really not thought about it?

"Okay. So... The Room of Requirement it is."

While climbing to the seventh floor, a sharp pain shoots through your head and you brace yourself against a wall. "They've done it", you whisper, looking at Harry. Harry shares the same look. He felt it too. "We have to hurry."

A loud explosion is heard in the distance before Death Eaters start flying around. You dodge a spell before sending it on to a passing-by smoke cloud. It hits Bullseye and the Death Eater lays petrified on the ground.

Finally, you and Harry reach the empty wall that houses the Room of Requirement. It's early quiet inside. Even the broken record has stopped playing.

"You take left, I take right. When we find something, we call out."

Harry nods in agreement and splits up from you. Your eyes scan frantically around. Between the stacks of old furniture and useless nicknacks, there is no sign of the diadem. But there is a faint high-pitched ringing. Somewhere in the distance.

You follow after the sound and when whispers prickle the back of your neck, you know you're close. Harry also seemed to pick up the ringing, as both of you end up at the same table.

Harry removes some ropes from the top of a wooden box. You chew on the inside of your cheek as he reaches out and slowly flips open the lid.

"Merlin's saggy balls, we found it", you whisper in amazement.

The blue jewel in the middle shines brightly. Almost too brightly for how dim the room is. Harry touches it, admiringly.

"Well, well. What brings you here, Potter?"

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @literallyobessed @lestat-whore @vanishingcherry @harrysnovia @pietrobae @ireallywannasleep127 @yeolsbubbles @fruityfrog505 @fluffybunnyu @theroyalmanatee @shinrjj @hegdus @kermits-bitch @m1kasawps @noah-uhhh-what @mypolicemanharryyy @fals3-g0d @decapitated-coffee @thatgirljas13 @slytherinambitious @raineisms @mastermindmiko @timmytime17 @regsg18 @supernatural-lover @bubybubsters @lafrone @hermionelove @the-sander-fander @akengii @aliciacat20 @unstablereader @burns-in-the-sun @rachelnicolee @damagelove @mqndrqke @llpovi @clairesjointshurt @222244445555 @jolly4holly @padf00ts-l0ver @fandom-life-12 @prettyb1tchsblog @pari-1 @f14ever @nopedefe @randomgurl2326 @rinalouu @yazminetrahan @ellen3101

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thebiggerbear · 3 months

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I want better for you...what's better for you than me? Part 1

Part 1 Summary: You've had a tough day. From an unruly client who is causing chaos to your dog not listening to you to your ex-husband calling you out of the blue. You've had more than enough and the last thing you need right now is any reminders of why you feel such regret and pain in the first place.

A/N: I was working on something with the Kim vs Kanye special thing playing in the background. Some things they discussed about that situation just struck a chord with me and before I knew it, this kind of came flying out onto a doc in the form of a little catharsis in a fictional story I guess. 🤷‍♀️

All unbeta'd.

Songs listened to while writing: Hummingbird - Carly Pearce; None Of Your Concern - Jhené Aiko

Warnings: heavy angst; mentions of cheating; drinking; language; a healthy dose of snarkiness

Word Count: 5596

Series Masterlist

dividers by @cafekitsune

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

You had just managed to get in the front door, a feat that a moment ago you didn’t think would be possible. You were bogged down with grocery bags, dry cleaning, and the bulkload of mail that would most likely turn out to be eighty five percent bills. Despite being set up to auto-pay everything, you still received a healthy stream of bills in your mailbox every week. You didn’t get it.

So you had already been carrying a heavy load while you managed to stick your latest Amazon package under your arm and the straps of your handbag and briefcase were on the other. Not to mention your dog was urging you to open the door after peeing on your lawn for the fifth time this week and he ignored your pleas for him not to. Somehow you did all of that and still got your key in the door. Milo, being the young spry German Shepherd pup he was, naturally almost mowed you down in his rush to get inside before you, but you survived the canine tornado and still stood strong. You weren’t patting yourself on the back but you definitely deserved some kudos. You had always been laughed at in the past for attempting to do all of this in one shot without any assistance, but you proved you could. Every single time. Considering you now had an eager and energetic four-legged companion who lacked patience (and a tiny bit of discipline if you were being honest) to contend with, kudos were definitely in order.

You slowly put down the grocery bags and package, laying the dry cleaning on your thin table in the foyer, dropping your keys and mail into the giant bowl on a shelf underneath, and placed your other bags to the side of the structure. You heaved a giant sigh of relief and turned to close the door, wincing when Milo barked from the living room. “Hush, Milo. Give me a minute to breathe, please.”

The second you secured the lock, you sank tiredly against the door. You were home and now you could begin to relax. It had been a long day and you were looking forward to changing into something more comfortable and starting the process of unwinding. And as if the universe wanted to foil that plan, your cell phone rang on cue.

“No,” you whined, placing your forehead against the wood of the door for a moment. “What is it now?”

One of your clients had the brilliant idea of doing an impromptu live stream in the wee hours of the morning to discuss their upcoming divorce, in full detail, in a bid to get their estranged spouse back. As a result, your phone had not stopped ringing since 4:02 this morning and you had done your best to do damage control. It didn’t help that this particular client had 20.4 million Instagram followers and the mainstream media alongside TMZ had already picked up the story by the time you were woken from a sound sleep to a panicked phone call from one of your client’s managers. A press conference had taken place a few hours later and of course, you were front and center, which you absolutely hated but had no choice in. So, today was not a good day by any means and you desperately needed some recharging time.

You huffed out an aggravated breath and spun on your heel, digging through your handbag to grab your cell. When you saw the name on the screen, you tensed up. Oh, your day was going to get even better apparently. Why hadn’t you just called out sick today and stayed in bed? Content to hide under the covers and pretend the world wasn’t exploding around you again? Because that worked so well for you last time. You pressed your lips together at the snarky thought. Shut up, brain.

Deciding that it was best just to see what he wanted and to get it over with, you swiped green and put the phone to your ear, forcing yourself to give a cordial greeting. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

“I know.” You grabbed the dry cleaning and turned towards the hall closet. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to…” You heard someone talking in the background and it made you freeze. Was that who you thought it was? Sure enough, he spoke again in a quieter tone. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“How do you think I’m doing?” You snapped as you shoved the hook onto the bar and slammed the closet door shut, smirking in satisfaction when the sound echoed throughout the foyer. You knew he had heard that. “Is that her? Are you really calling me right now while she’s in the room?”

“What? No.” His voice always went an octave higher near the end of a sentence when he was nervous. “No, of course not.” You could hear the sounds of the person talking in the background fading as he presumably moved away from them. “No, Y/N, that’s someone from my team. We had a meeting and we’re taking a break.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” you hissed, picking up the grocery bags and moving towards the kitchen.

“It is.”

“Whatever,” you muttered, pulling packages of ground beef and raw steaks out and placing them in the refrigerator and freezer respectively. “I should expect nothing less.”

A sigh came down the line. “Y/N, I told you, I didn’t—”

“What did you call me for? I’m pretty sure I made it clear the last time we saw each other that I never wanted to hear from you again.”

Silence reigned for a moment while you continued putting your groceries away. Perhaps that was cruel but it was nothing but the truth. You had told your soon-to-be ex-husband that when he tried to speak to you outside the conference room as you and your lawyer attempted to leave the contentious meeting that hadn’t brought about any resolution. You were both trying to avoid going to court, wanting to settle this as soon as possible, but his lawyers were intent on playing hardball. Which was oh-so-hilarious considering he made more money in a single month than you did a year. And he had sat back, letting them, as he kept glistening green eyes fixated on you, urging you to look at him which you did not. When you told him you wanted nothing more to do with him, he appeared stricken and you felt sick seeing it, not just because you said what you’d said but also because you had meant it. You had trusted him, let him come in and sweep you off your feet though you kept insisting you didn’t want anything romantic to develop between you, but he had pushed for a relationship, you ended up giving in, and then he had crushed you underneath his boot heel without a second thought. He had told you he loved you over and over again, touched you as if he truly meant it, and then stabbed you right in the back. Just like your friends and everyone you knew who had a brain had warned you he would.

“I saw the press conference and I guess I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he quietly admitted.

You couldn’t help but flinch. Great, he had seen you artlessly dodge the question about your own divorce and the catalyst behind it. And if he saw it, then that meant so did she. Great, just great.

“I’m fine. Better than fine, actually. So thanks for checking in but not necessary. Go back to your meeting and have a great rest of your day. Great rest of your life really. Ciao.” You were about to end the call when you heard him speaking suddenly.

“Don’t hang up. Y/N! Please. Can we just talk for one freaking second? Please.”

You flipped the call over to speakerphone and placed the device on the counter, crossing your arms and waiting. Sometimes it was truly hard to believe that you had been so in love with this man that you had shared a life with him once. That you had smiled when he would call you, that you had craved to hear his voice even. And now…now you had a knot in your stomach the size of Texas and you despised the owner of said voice.

When he didn’t say anything after a minute, you prompted him. “Well?”

“Please, can we just talk? You know, like we used to. We were friends once, weren’t we?”

You took two steps forward and bent at the waist to make sure your voice was as close as possible to the phone. “Like we’re friends? Are you for real? And let me just tell you that if you’re calling me to talk about your new relationship, you’d better think again. I will hang up and I will immediately contact my attorney and seek a no contact order.”

“What new relationship? I’m not in any relationship.”

“Fuck buddies, then. I don’t care what you call it.”

“That’s not—” He let out a groan of frustration. “Nothing happened, Y/N. Nothing. I keep trying to tell you that but you won’t listen!”

“Oh, so those photos and videos were just doctored then? Someone used PhotoShop or AI, right? All 62 people at the scene? They’re all lying? That’s what you’re telling me?”

You heard another sigh, this one sounding heavier, a mixture of exhaustion and defeat. “No, I’m not saying that. But I am saying that nothing—”

“Then we have nothing more to talk about.”

You were about to hang up when he pleaded again for you not to. “Would you please just listen to me for a second? I know I screwed up, I do. But nothing happened between me and her. I swear.”

“So the interview she gave to Vanity Fair where she implied how close you two were and the sources that told US Weekly about your incredibly passionate weekend in Rome last year when I couldn’t make the trip — with full detail of your very public displays of affection I might add — that was all a lie?”

“I never had a passionate weekend with her, Y/N. I called you that night, because I knew you would still be up working that case. We even—” He suddenly lowered his voice a little. “We even were intimate if you remember.”

Just when you thought all of this couldn’t hurt you anymore, that you shed every single tear your body was capable of creating, that your heart could no longer break because it was a pile of dust somewhere in this house, you felt the resurgence of a pain that you wished you didn’t know existed. A pain that stabbed into you over and over again, forcing you to feel every fresh wound along with old ones, nearly overwhelming you and making you feel like you would never get away from it. You remembered the night he was talking about all too well.

“No, that was the previous year. It was our anniversary,” you choked out, the age old lump forming once again in your throat. One you swore you wouldn’t allow back.

“What? No. Baby, I’m sorry but you’re wrong. It was that same night, I’m telling you. I know it was because I left the restaurant early to go back to my room so I could call you. I even texted you on the way there. I know I did.”

You closed your eyes as the pain washed over you once more. If you weren’t about to break for the thousandth time since this whole thing started, you would have reminded him what you’d told him when you’d agreed to date him. Never lie to a lawyer about anything because they will find out. He had simply smiled, told you that neither of you would ever have to worry about that, and leaned in to kiss you. If you didn’t feel a sudden burning in the corner of your eyes, you also would have reminded him that he had tried to tell you this story once before and you had easily debunked it. And he had the nerve to speak to you like that as he lied to you once again, as if you were still happily married? As if he had the right to call you baby? No, this was too much.

“I’m hanging up now,” you forced out.

“Honey, please. Can’t we just talk this out? I know I fucked up but I promise I didn’t—”

“Don’t call me again. If you need something in the future, have your lawyer contact mine.”

“Y/N, wait! Baby, please just—”

You disconnected the call, took a deep breath, and went back to your task. Your phone immediately started ringing again and seeing your ex’s name once more, you pushed the call to voicemail and then turned your phone off. You had enough for today; you deserved some quiet time. And the last thing you wanted to deal with was the cause of the void sitting inside your chest where your heart used to be. Though that empty space didn’t seem to prevent the tidal wave of pain you were currently under. You continued taking deep breaths until you felt you had yourself fully under control and there was no longer any threat of you breaking down in sobs.

You heard the clicking of nails on the tile and turned around to see Milo sitting down, watching you intently and letting out a whine.

“Don’t you dare take his side,” you whispered, afraid if you spoke any louder that you might finally shatter into a thousand pieces after everything today. You were already going to be indulging in a liquid dinner as it was. Alcohol would be the only thing your stomach would be able to handle right now. “He left us, remember?”

The dog simply tilted his head in response and you snorted. “Right, I keep forgetting. All dogs stick together, don’t they?” He didn’t understand your snarky comment and he just continued watching you, not making a sound. It reminded you too much of your husband for some reason, giving you those infamous sad puppy dog eyes of his as he begged you to give him a chance to explain when you played a video on your phone that had been sent to you. You bit your lip and focused on pulling a bottle of wine from the undercounter cooler. “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t make him do what he did. I didn’t lie or cheat or…anything else he did. Okay?” Still no response. “It’s not my fault. I’m not the bad guy here.” Still nothing. Not that you were expecting a response but the longer the silence lasted, the more pain you felt. “Fine, you want to blame me? Go right ahead. Everyone else in the world does, why not you, too?”

You passed him by and you heard another whine, but you ignored it. You clenched your jaw, making your way back into the foyer to remove your shoes and jog up the stairs to change. You pretended that the sudden blurriness in your eyes was your exhaustion from the day and that the tears rolling down your cheeks were just from allergies, nothing to do with the pain you were feeling hearing his voice again — the voice of your cheating ex-husband. Not at all.

You were bored, channel surfing, as Milo laid next to you, his head on his paws. Both of you stared at the TV screen but you weren’t really seeing the constantly changing images. Instead, you had your head in your hand, turning his words from earlier over and over in your mind.

“Nothing happened, Y/N.”

“I promise I didn’t—”

“Nothing happened between me and her.”

If only there wasn’t physical evidence to the contrary. If only he hadn’t lied and was still lying. You reached for your glass from the side table and took another sip. You had foregone the wine in favor of something with a little more kick. You intended on drinking until you became so drunk you would have no choice but not to care. You had already let your assistant know to clear your morning appointments before your second drink; you were now on your fourth.

So when an hour later, you were watching some wildlife documentary on BBC and you saw a female bear running from a male bear who was intent on mating with her, you slammed your glass down and sat up, causing Milo to lift his head up. “That’s right, run!” You yelled, slightly slurring your words. “Fucking run! Don’t trust him! He’ll tell you whatever you wanna hear just to get you on your back! Or your front or however the fuck you bears do it! But then he’ll wander off to find some other bitch to mount when he’s done! Mark my words! So you fucking run and you don’t look back! Fuck you, Baloo! Bare necessities, my ass! RUN!”

The female bear did run and she definitely put the male through it but eventually, she allowed him to catch up with her and gave in. You groaned loudly and threw the popcorn you had been munching on at the TV. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me! I told that bitch to run! Doesn’t she realize he’s only going to screw her and then really screw her? Nobody listens to me!” Milo jumped down to eat the stray pieces and when he turned to look at you, you shook your head. “I’m tellin’ you, buddy. Dogs. All o’ya.” He tilted his head curiously, his eyes laser focused on the bowl in your lap. You blew a raspberry at the TV when the narrator said the female bear would eventually give birth to cubs in months’ time. “You just wait until he takes a trip to Italy, I’m tellin’ ya. You’ll be sorry you didn’t listen to me then.” For a reason that wasn’t quite clear to you in this state, you threw more popcorn at the screen when a pair of mated penguins appeared next, waiting for their egg to hatch. You blew another raspberry and Milo immediately went on a popcorn rampage, all too happy to act as the cleanup crew.

You sipped more scotch from your glass and you loved the trail of the burn it left from your tongue to your stomach. This was an excellent decision on your part. You needed a break from your chaotic everyday life, your broken heart, and…memories.

Memories like him sitting on this couch with you as you watched Working Girl for the 4,085th time.

It was one of your favorite movies and even though he was sick of it, he indulged your need for the familiar comfort it provided. You had a rough day at work, you and your mother had gotten into yet another argument over the phone, and your doctor had pretty much told you that your getting pregnant would be an impossibility. You were devastated and you were working up the courage to tell him, already not having told him about the existence of your appointment. He wasn’t really sure if he wanted kids but you did; you had always wanted a little girl. So you both eventually compromised that you would give it a shot and if it happened, great. If it didn’t, then you would cross that bridge when you came to it. That was the deal. But when you failed to get pregnant the past few months despite you both doing everything in your power to make it happen, you’d grown concerned and decided to get an official medical opinion on you first before asking him to. Sure enough, the news had crushing. At some point over time, after all of the monthly hell it put you through since you were thirteen, your traitorous reproductive system had decided to clock out and refused to clock back in when it was needed.

So when you finally felt brave enough to tell him what you’d been told, that you wouldn’t break down in tears as you said the words, you noticed he wasn’t paying attention to the movie at all or you. He was on his phone and even when you called his name, trying to get him to look at you, he barely spared you a glance. When you asked him what he was doing, he said he had gotten some texts he was responding to, still not really looking at you. When you asked who they were from, a strange look fleeted across his face before he powered down his screen and slipped his phone back into his pocket.

He had then turned a reassuring smile on you. “Just work stuff.” He laid a hand on your shoulder and tenderly rubbed his thumb in soothing circles. “So what is it you want to tell me?”

You arched a brow over at him. You hadn’t said you wanted to tell him anything.

He inclined his head towards the screen. “Working Girl? For the second time in two weeks? Something’s up.”

Dammit, he knew you too well. Something that had always been a plus in your relationship, especially since you two had shared a close friendship first. But while you had been finally ready to tell him your heartbreaking news, something about that look and his evading the question of who he had been texting now had you clamming up though you had no idea why. Or maybe you did but you didn’t want to think about it or look at it too closely. “Nothing,” you answered quietly, glancing back at the movie. “Just a rough day at work.”

“Anything you want to talk about?”

You shook your head and bit your lip. “No, I’m good.”

He studied you for a moment and nodded, accepting your answer before getting to his feet. “Alright, well, I’ve already seen this seventy eight times and that was before our first date.” He chuckled at his own joke. “So, I’m going to jump in the shower and then head to bed. Come up when you’re finished?” You forced a smile and a nod. He leaned down and kissed the top of your head before leaving the room.

When he was gone and you heard the sounds of the shower upstairs start up, you sat frozen. You told yourself you were overthinking things and it made sense that if he thought something was bothering you, he wouldn’t want to start going into detail on a work-related project that either might be going great or not going so well. Not until he knew what was going on with you first. But you were also a divorce attorney and a woman — you knew the signs. You didn’t want to think that your husband — your best friend — would do that to you, especially knowing how much of a dealbreaker it was for you. You’d been very vocal about it before agreeing to date him. He wouldn’t really do that to you, would he?

You’d shrugged it off, telling yourself you were being ridiculous, and turned the movie off before heading upstairs to bed. And when he scrolled through social media before sleep, smirking at the screen and typing something when he thought you were already out, you told yourself you were overreacting. And when a brief look of relief flashed in his eyes when you finally told him your doctor’s verdict a week later before he pulled you into a hug, you ignored your hurt and told yourself it was only because he had been up front with you about not really wanting kids at this stage of his life. That he had only compromised on trying to begin with in order to make you happy.

You should’ve known then what your instincts had been screaming at you. Just like that damn bear should have known. What this goddamn penguin should know. You blew another raspberry for good measure when the narrator said the male was attempting to attract the female by building a fucktastic nest. You weren’t exactly sure that’s what the narrator said but it was all the same shit to you. “Run, girl. That’s how they getcha,” you muttered, your slurring somehow worse as you sifted through popcorn. “He’s only trying to get in them panties. Trust me. Fly away — or waddle away very fast.” You laughed at your own joke and threw Milo a few pieces. He snatched them in mid-air, impressing you and making you clap happily for him. His tail wagged a thousand miles an hour as he waited for more snacks.

And then someone decided to ruin your little pity party. Milo’s head in the opposite direction and he suddenly took off for the front door, barking like crazy and making you jump. A moment later, the doorbell rang and your cell phone chimed with the Ring notification. You glanced at the time on your screen; who the hell would be at your door at this hour? You quickly checked the Ring camera, your heart rate accelerating slightly as Milo’s barking didn’t let up. Were you about to be attacked? Broken into? Scammed? Given the Good Word and a talk on how to achieve your salvation? What? And you were drunk — fffffuck.

You waited for the screen to pop up and when it did, your heart was pounding for a whole other reason. You could feel the fury racing through your veins like wildfire. You’d know that set of shoulders and ball cap anywhere. Was this for real?

You watched as the person at your front door pressed the doorbell again, giving a hesitant wave to the camera. A familiar voice suddenly sounded through the speakers on your phone. “I know you’re home, Y/N. I can hear Milo barking. Can you come to the door, please?”

Oh, he wanted you to come to the door? Not a problem. He was going to regret it, though.

You jumped to your feet, you being the one to immediately regret it instead as you held onto the arm of the couch to regain your balance. When you didn’t fall back onto the couch or onto the floor, you stormed into the foyer — well, you tried to storm into it anyway. Milo was there, half whining, half barking, and glancing back and forth between you and the front door, clearly wanting you to open it. You reached it, flipped the locks, and threw the door open, glaring at the last person you ever wanted to see darken your doorway again. “What the hell do you want?”

Your ex-husband looked shocked for a moment, more by what his assessing gaze took in of you than by your aggressive greeting. “Have you been drinking?”

You snorted a laugh. “You’re going to ask me that? Really? You?” You shot him a meaningful look.

He had the decency to briefly appear ashamed as he should. Hadn’t that been one of the several excuses he’d thrown your way once his dastardly deeds had come to light? God, you’d lost count of them at this point. “I was hoping we could talk but if…” He gestured to you with a hand but didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to; you knew very well what he was implying and it just served to anger you further.

“Are you kidding me right now? You don’t just show up on my doorstep—”

“Our doorstep.”

“My doorstep,” you corrected. “Out of the blue, wanting to talk. It’s no longer about what you want, anyway.”

“Y/N, please. Can we just—”

“No! You hear me? N-O. No!” You went to shut the door when he stopped you.

“I’ve been trying to call you all day, you won’t return my calls, you won’t answer my texts.”

“Gee, I wonder why, Cheater McCheaterson,” you hissed, attempting to close the door despite him holding it open.

He let out an irritated sigh. “Look, I just want to talk, Y/N. No lawyers, no third parties, no more phone hang ups or emails not responded to — just us.”

You shoved against the door with all of your might though it proved futile. Why did he have to be so big and why did he have to show up when you were three—four—five sheets to the wind? “Like I’ve said a hundred thousand times before, there is nothing to talk about.” You spun around and pushed your back against the door, trying to shut him out that way. The damn thing still didn’t budge and you were starting to lose the battle with your balance. Milo watched you and you could see the judgment in his dark brown eyes; even he knew the door wasn’t going to close and the man you’d once given your heart to wasn’t going to go away that easily. “You cheated, you lied, you got caught, we’re getting divorced. End. Of. Story,” you grunted as you uselessly pushed against the door. That whole spiel might have sounded more impressive had you not just slurred your way through about ninety percent of it.

A hand reached around and gently laid on top of yours, causing you to stop pushing and look down. Tears began to build in your eyes when you saw an all-too familiar golden band on the fourth finger, feeling the cold metal against your skin, almost burning you when the memory of you putting it on his hand immediately popped into your head.

He had graced you with a warm and affectionate smile as you repeated the vows you were told to say. “To love and to cherish, ‘till death do us part,” you finished, slipping the ring onto his finger and joining your hands as practiced. His smile grew and he didn’t even wait for the officiant to finish speaking before he leaned forward and kissed you, causing a lot of ‘awww’s and laughter from the audience. He had then placed his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes and looking beyond happy. As it so often did for you when he did things like this, the world around you faded away until it was just the two of you.

“We’re married now,” he murmured. “No returns or refunds or exchanges. No take backs. It’s for real.”

“I must have missed that part of the vows,” you joked, wrapping your arms around his neck as your eyes roamed his handsome face. He gently nudged your nose in response. “Yes, it’s for real,” you capitulated. “Not a bad choice for my first husband, if I do say so myself.” You shot him a teasing grin.

He chuckled and your heart skipped a beat; you loved that sound. “You mean your only husband, right?” He growled out playfully before swooping down to kiss you more passionately than before as he wrapped his arms around your waist to pick you up. You laughed into his mouth and you could faintly hear the sounds of cheering, whistles, and clapping somewhere in the distance.

You pressed your lips together to keep yourself from breaking down in tears. How dare he still wear that thing? After he’d pledged to love you for the rest of your lives together, no matter what? To be faithful to you even? You snatched your hand from underneath his and pushed the wood again, grunting loudly.

“Sweetheart—”

“Don’t you dare,” you hissed.

His face appeared next, a lot closer to you than you had anticipated, and it took everything you had to keep standing. You could see devastation in those green depths that closely mirrored your own, the bloodshot eyes staring back at you along with a hint of dark circles underneath indicating to you that there had been a sleepless night or two very recently. His skin was at least two shades lighter than what it should be and his usually neatly trimmed beard was not as well kept. How dare he? How dare he look so hurt when he was the offending party? When he was the reason behind all of this pain he had caused you both?

“Please, honey,” he murmured. “Talk to me.”

Your jaw clenched and you felt a tear start rolling down your cheek. Dammit, you had told yourself you would never cry in front of him, not after what he’d done. You would never give him the satisfaction of knowing just how deeply he hurt you. “I don’t want to talk to you, Jensen.” The pain in his expression intensified but you willfully ignored it. You also ignored the oh-so-ironically timed whine Milo let out nearby. “So just leave already. We’re done and nothing you say is ever going to change that.” You roughly wiped away the tear and ambled down the hall to the guest bathroom, slamming and locking the door shut behind you without once looking back.

Only when you turned on the shower did you collapse on the floor, your back to the tub, and bury your face into your knees as you broke down into sobs. You’d meant what you said; you and Jensen were done, and nothing he said could ever change that. Just when you thought your heart was beyond the ability of being damaged anymore than it already had been, you felt one final crack form as you poured out your anguish into the small tiled room.

A/N: Jensen disclaimer here. Btw, I am not suggesting anything about Jensen himself, his marriage or previous relationships, or anything related. I only chose "Jensen" because that character seemed to fit the themes I wanted to cover best. At first, I was going for Beau but then that didn't work for obvious reasons. Then Dean but again, didn't work. Ultimately, it ended up being "Jensen" in the end aka "just right". For story purposes, "Jensen" is not a parent when he meets the reader.

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blerb-f1 · 1 year

Text

" Cooked Australian"

Oscar Piastri x trad goth!reader

Qatar left Oscar quite dead but at least a eery kind doctor is there to revive him

“Haaaa” Oscar sighed, laying down on the couch in his driver’s room. Qatar was an absolute drain of a race and Lando’s pushing at the end surely didn’t help his wellbeing. His Legs felt weak and wobbly as he hobbled back into the room. He fell onto the ground, air spinning. Leaving a voice message on some group was all he could muster, laying on the ground.

As little ducks started spinning in the air above him, the door opened after a short knock. He saw a person step in, clad in fully black clothes. Some kind of goth. White Makeup melting off her face as she got on her knees next to him.

“I’m Y/N, Oscar. I’m a registered Doctor, I'll help you, okay? The team sent me. I’ll put you into an ice bath, for that I need to take off your clothes. Is that fine?”

Oscar nodded weakly. He really didn’t care about being seen. All he could think of was relief.

He felt a cool towel being placed on his head and water gurgling into a plastic basin. Shortly after he felt his race suit being pulled off, then his fireproof. The cold air was almost uncomfortable on his steaming skin.

“I’ll wipe you down first, okay? So that you won’t get flashed by the cold.” the voice said, her voice having a comforting melody to it. He flinched under the cold cloth passing over his skin, but it had turned into relief white soon.

“I need you to tense up now. That makes lifting you easier.”

Oscar did as asked, tensing his worn muscles as much as he could manage. The woman grabbed him before letting him sink into the water. Once again, big flinch.

The water bit at his skin as more sweat poured over his head, burning his sensitive skin. “Close your eyes please.”

Cold water brushed over his head, he felt his hair being gone through and then a headband pushed it up. A soft towel cleaning his face again.

“Have a drink please”

The usual driver's straw hit his lips and he gingerly drank from it. The water tasted disgusting, probably riddled with things good for the body.

Oscar fully leaned back against the plastic tub, just sipping the water offered to him. Finally his conscience started returning to him as he felt the Lady -Y/N- being her name, take his pulse.

He stared up at her, the white and black make-up now fully smudged and half run off from all the water she had handled. The jet black hair had started sticking together and her black clothes equally wet.

“Are you feeling a bit better?” she asked him, worried in her eyes.

“...Yeah” he weekly voiced, a smile crossing his face at her big panda eyes.

“hm?” she asked. “What's making you smile?”

“Your makeup. It's gone.” Oscar stated quickly.

She fumbled around in her handbag, getting out a beautiful classic looking mirror, eyeing her appearance. “I look like garbage. Not like you’re in better shape though.” She twisted the mirror for him to see his reflection.

Red face, swollen and exhausted. His hair was pushed up with a fluffy cat eared headband. The water made a splashing noise as she put a little duck in there before grabbing back her mirror and some wipes. Strong wipes and water splashes helped take off her makeup . An equally exhausted face appeared underneath the strong mask covering it.

“So you’re not alone. I’m just outside the room. Try not to drown please. I'll report to the team. They're worried about you, allright.”

Oscar splished around in the Water before finally feeling good enough to step out. He gently stepped out, falling back on his lounge chair. The stack of towels was already prepared as he started drying himself off, grabbing fresh clothes from his drawers. Being dressed again, he flopped back onto the chair, eyeing the room. The entire floor was covered in water and wet towels, his racesuit buried in a big stack of orange Frotte. Oscar returned to sipping his water, watching the rubber duck spin in circles as he saw the door open again.

Y/N gasped. “Who said you could walk yourself? Did you get hurt?!”

“No” was his simple factual statement.

Y/N looked around the room, grabbing a new bottle from the deep bottoms of her leather coat. “Here, drink this instead. Tastes better.” She pushed his special straw in the new bottle, handing it over. Oscar took a sip. It did taste better.

Y/N had brought a laundry basket in which she threw the towels and his sweaty clothes before pushing it out of the door.

She then lifted the storage bin that posed as his bath, letting the water down the drain. A last towel served as a mop to reduce the room's slipping hazard.

The woman looked quite proud of her work as she placed her hands on her hips, procuring her bag again and disappearing in his bathroom. A while later she re-emerged , dressed in a fresh change of equally black clothes and new , but simpler, makeup applied on her face.

“Ready to show yourself to the Team Oscar?”

He nodded. No point in dilly-dallying, he’d have to go outside either way.

supported by Y/N’s Arm, he stepped outside. The bright lights being aggressive on his still bloodshot eyes.

The team was looking up with nervous expressions. Apparently, they were all quite worried.

‘Quite a surprise’, Oscar thought. He was sure they’d worry about Lando more, him being their Driver 1 but apparently, no. Zack Brown was quick to approach him, checking his appearance up and down with hawklike, watchful eyes. With his Hand patting Oscar's Shoulder, he pulled him into a warm, comfortable hug.

“You did well Oscar.”

Oscar looked up at Zack, at Lando whose Face was trying to hide his own disappointment and at all the mechanics that had worked so hard the season. While this surely wasn’t a win, nonetheless it was something many drivers had never reached in their entire life. A little droplet escaped his eyes, quickly hiding it behind his sleeve. One thing confused him however, where exactly did Y/N come from?

Zack answered as if he could read his thoughts. “Good that Y/N was already here, otherwise we would have had to drag you to the medical center but the cameras were like Hyenas today. They caught Lance and Alex at some very unfortunate angles.”

“Why was Y/N here?”

“She’s currently in training as Replacement for Dr. Ian Roberts. He feels like his body isn’t that movable anymore so he wants to relocate towards research and Development for Driver Security. The FIA held open tests. We told you about them, don't you remember?”

Oscar tried his hardest to remember but that mention must have escaped him.

“Of course you dont. “ siggghhh “Anyway, Y/N was the one that passed the tryouts so she’s currently being trained by Dr. Roberts himself. While she doesn’t have as much experience in the medical field as him, the knowledge required for this position is way too specialized anyway to be learned in a normal Hospital.”

Y/N nodded as if agreeing with the Statement, before adding:”Theoretically today was just my first look at the job. First thing I have to do besides learning about Drivers Injuries is getting used to the fast driving. Alan has been doing some rounds around Qatar with me. I don't know how you endure that at those speeds. I had a good vomit into a flower Basket the second he stopped the Medical Car.” She chuckled before tugging her Hair back. “The fastest I've ever gone was 130kmh and my little Hyundai felt like it was exploding. “

“I could take you for a spin if you’d like. Maybe that will help you get used to it?”

Oscar’s breath hiked. Had he actually said that loudly? That was just an intrusive thought, how could he just- “Wait some time, Cowboy. At least until you’re not looking like the walking dead anymore.”

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

*ping*

Oscar had spent the last three days resting in his UK Apartment, just on standby after the drain that was Qatar. That is, until a Message by an unknown number appeared. He expected it to be another insane fan or some scam nigerian prince, willing to share his inheritance.

It was, however, neither of those.

Which offer had he made her again? Offer, Offer…OH JEEPERS A drive around a track.

> HII OSCAR

> This is Y/N - Logan gave me your number after I checked on him!

> I wanted-

*message deleted*

> i wanted to take you up on your offer!

*ping*

Snetterton? Oscar did some quick calculations. It was early morning, the drive would take around 3 hours. 2 if he were to speed…

> Friends of Mine are at Snetterton today.

> would that work for you?

< Sure! I’ll see you at Snetterton!

Shit. That wasn’t one of his smartest moments, not by a long shot. Oscar quickly jumped in his bath, getting ready. He picked some clothes that looked appropriate while getting the swoop in his hair in order. Rushing outside, he grabbed his bag with a race suit and helmet - he might need it at a Race Track?-, dumping it onto the car's passenger seat while sliding into the Driver's Seat. “Google, Route to Snetterton Race Track.”

His McLaren Artuna had been fueled up to the brim, thankfully. Time to make a 3h track in 2 hours.

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

As he pulled into the Carpark, Oscar realized he had made a big mistake. This wasn’t the privately booked tracks he was used to, it was open track day. With many gearheads that were sure to recognise him. What had he done?

As Oscar pulled into a parking space (much better than Charles would have ever done!) his phone made a 'ping!' again.

Shortly after that message, with his sunglasses covering his face as he leaned against his car, he heard a horrible farty noise approach him.

> We’ve just arrived! Should we pick you up at your Car?

< Yes please, i’m at E5. The Papaya McLaren

> 😂 ofc

> keep your sunglasses on, if you have them

> My friends car is…embarrassing

‘Please don't be it. Please don't be it he prayed to himself. But Alas, his Luck has run out.

The car approaching him was a riced Golf V. Massive farty exhaust, fugly bodykit and an even more hideous paintjob covering the gullwing doors that were opening

Had he seen that correctly? Gullwing Doors.

He had, horrifyingly enough. He saw Y/N sitting in the Passenger Seat, her Hair teased up highly, Large Cat Eye Sunglasses hiding her expression. The white paint on her skin being lit up by the Cars ugly RGB Light-interieur. She had lifted her gloved hands to wave at him before lifting her long skirt to step out.

“I’m so glad we were able to find you! This is madness! So many people buzzing about"

Oscar looked around. Yeah, Madness. The McLaren Cap on his head, the McLaren car and the helmet he brought which had turned out to be his actual race helmet, would probably only strengthen this madness.

As he was about to disappear into his own mind, the horrible engine farts stopped and the driver stepped out. A young woman in Overalls, blond braid and equally large sunglasses.

She stretched her hand to shake. He took it.

“I’m Jessica, Y/N’s friend. You don’t have to hide your expression, we know how ugly this car is. I’m a mechanic and sadly the one paid to build this monstrosity.”

Osar let out a sigh of relief. He knew how clear his thoughts were on his face, not knowing how long he would have to disguise the disgust.

“Also, Y/N mentioned you being some kind of driver. I have no clue about Motorsports so don’t worry, I won't rat you out or something. All I care about is testing this fartcannon because the owner actually wants to go on track with it.”

“Have you invited me to try it then?”

“No, that’s Jessica’s Job. She’s insured if something were to go wrong. I’m not stopping you though if you want.”

Oscar eyed the fartcannon and a sense of morbid curiosity overcame him. Something in him wanted to know what this thing drove like.

“Give me the keys!”

As Oscar settled into the Driver’s Seat, he took note of the car's shift pattern, pulling out. He considered putting on his helmet in case of this shitbox falling apart but being smashed to small chunks appeared more appealing than being found alive but injured in it.

He pushed the Sunglasses higher on his nose. Gotta do at least something.

As he shifted up the gears, eye focused on the whimpering boost gauge and body concentrated on the fighting street tires. The other normal street cars looked in awe as this fast fartcannon flew by them. BMWs, Mercs and even some Porsches couldn't stand against this expertly built Ricer.

That was until he heard some controlled throat noises behind him. A short Glance in the rear-view Mirror revealed that Y/N was struggling to keep her breakfast down. As stopping wasn't allowed, Oscar tried his hardest to slowly and calmly drive back to the parking area.

A group of people that had seen this mad car had appeared to catch a glimpse of it but they were quickly stopped by Oscar who’d asked them where the toilets were.

While Jessica was away with Y/N, Oscar hid in the car to not be discovered. As the two women returned Y/N just eyed the Car with massive disgust.

“I’m not getting in there again.” She stated clearly, trying to fix her rustled clothes.

At that moment, as if heaven sent, Jessica looked at her phone as a call came in. The owner wanted his car back, she would have to go home. YN would have to take a train home instead.

“I could drive you, '' Oscar offered. “It’ll be dark later. I wouldn't want you traveling alone in the dark”

YN appeared to consider her choices before finally coming to a conclusion.

“I’d appreciate you driving me. But first, we gotta finish a lap. A singular lap at least. I have to get used to this.”

Jessica bid her farewells, disappearing in the fartcannon, wondering how Y/N even got a position in Motorsport while getting Car Sick.

Oscar helped her into the Artura, settling into his own seat.

“I'll take it slow for the first lap”

Oscar did as promised, one slowish round of Snetterton with People curiously eying the car. This mostly being the fact that it was working, which most Artura didn't.

Then came a fast Lap. Y/N grabbed the doors tightly, Fear imminent though her painted face but success. No throwing up.

Wasn't that a start?

The young driver pulled his car back into the car park, curiously glancing at his passenger again. YN was looking a bit unsettled but much better than before, not that he could tell from her face color though. As he turned the engine off, Y/N leaned back, sighing loudly.

“I really didn’t consider that I might get sick at high speeds when I applied for this job.”

“Have you ever driven a car fast before, Y/N?” was Oscar's first proper question. “On a track or even a street?”

She appeared to actually think of an equally proper answer before turning to respond. “Not really.My little Hyundai gets to 130 kmh if i push it but that's above the speed limit. And on a Racetrack? On my own? Never."

Oscar unbuckled his seatbelt, swinging his legs out and opening the passenger door instead.

“You drive.” Y/N looked at him in Confusion, still getting into the driver's seat though.

“Why should I drive this car?” she simply asked.

“Why? Because this is a track. Being a passenger is one thing but driving yourself another. Maybe this will help you be less car sick.”

Y/N sat there in Oscar's Sitting position, not daring to touch anything on this car. “I can't drive this! It’s way too expensive! What if I bin it?”

“McLaren’s just gonna have to get me another then.”

“I don’t know how to drive an automatic!”

“Any idiot can drive an automatic.”

Y/N let out a sound of defeat before adjusting her seat according to Oscars Instructions, searching for the Key in the Ignition.

“How do I turn this on?”

“You don’t need your left leg. Right foot on the break, the start buttons right next to the wheel”

She did as told and the engine came alive with a loud hum.

“How do I put it in gear?”

“The D for dumbass button in the center console. Boy am I glad I reversed into this parking spot. Oh be careful, you have combined like 600hp more than your Hyundai so better be AHHHH”

The car shot forward as Y/N had engaged the gas pedal way too much, more akin to pushing a little three cylinder car than a V6 Hybrid.

“Now please”, Oscar continued, clutching whatever he could to stay alive, “P l e a s e be careful with the brakes. These will be much stronger than the old ass ones on your car. I don’t particularly possess the desire to die in Snetterton”

Y/N directed the Car onto the Track, curious eyes watching why this expensive car is so unstable. Oscar himself was less worried about the car itself and more about his own survival as Y/N had discovered the Joy of Speed. Colin McRae would have been proud of her as she started racing around at what was flat out speed to her, intimating Sunday Drivers by letting the engine howl up behind them or slowing down just to speed up and overtake.

As she finally pulled into the parking lot again, putting the Car into “Park” as instructed, he found himself feeling as tired as he did after Qatar. Was this how his parents felt when driving along with him back when he got his license?

“Oscar, the Cluster is rattling?”

“Oh yeah, it’s been like that the entire time, you were just distracted. These Arturas are notorious for breaking down. I was lowkey hoping you’d bin it so that I would get something more reliable.”

“I think McLaren would have sued me for killing their Car.”

"Nonsense. You saved me from becoming a cooked Australien back in Qatar. If they would have sued you, I'd have announced my move to Red Bull or something.”

“Oscar, it says … The display overheated?”

“I didn’t even know a Display could overheat. Maybe i’ll get my reliable pink Toyota Vitz now”

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

The next day Zack Brown found himself quite unhappy as he discovered a copy of ‘The Sun’ laid on his desk. The cover displayed his youngest Driver Oscar Piastri standing at the side of the road, next to him the new F1 Medic Y/N in her Darkest Sunday's Best and in the middle, a smoking, Papaya coloured McLaren Artura. Or to be even more specific, a burning one. As emphasized by the Fire Trucks closeby.

He angrily slammed down his cup of coffee before reading the title aloud. “McLaren Star Oscar Piastri caught having a Car BBQ along with a Clown doubling as Funeral Director”

As he took his breaths, deep breaths at that, he came to a single conclusion: While this situation was not great, at least he neither was the FIA and had to deal with Cooked Drivers in Qatar or the entire Aston Martin Social Media Team.

#f1 x reader #Oscar Piastri x reader #Oscar Piastri #blerb writes

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stargalaxxy · 3 months

Text

⋆｡‧˚ʚ Reuniting with Michael Afton

Hihi ᡣ𐭩 I wanted to try something different with a long story with Michael I was inspired by a Battington analogue horror video, bruuuuhhh they are good!!! but anyways this story is inspired by that. No one tell them pweaseeeeee ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ This can be seen as platonic or romantic, so I hope you enjoy ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

‧₊˚✩彡 Tw: Panic Attack, Use of Pills, Murder, and other unsettling stuff...

✮⋆˙ Now Playing: Too Sweet by, Hozier ˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆

You sit at a booth fiddling with napkins as you absentmindedly tuned out screaming children and beeping of arcade machines going off in another room, a hand on your cheek as you waited for the man who had invited you here.

Ten minutes having gone by as you smack your lips leaning against the back of the booth eyeing the stage closed red velvet curtains with a wooden sign posted in front with, “We’ll Be Back Soon!” written in ink.

You squint as children would come by the curtains that was guarded by yellow tape with words of, “DO NOT CROSS” bolded for even the blind to see, Children would continue their way to new games or to families excitedly pointing to the stage wishing to see the animatronics.

Crossing your legs, you swallow as you suck in a breath holding it as you notice each child that stopped right in front of the lines in curiosity and continue walking once their attention was gained by flashing lights or food. Your foot starts to bounce as you tap your nail against the table, ticking noises of a grandfather clock in your head in tune of your tapping the swinging of the dial going in sync with every bounce of your foot.

Cold sweat runs down your neck feeling the knot in your stomach start to form as your heart begins to race, you were panicking having not been in this hell hole for ten years. Not ever since your accident, you still beat yourself up since that day, never having the grace to forgive yourself for what you did.

‘Damnit Michael, where are you” you whisper to yourself as you shifted your legs over the other getting restless, if you stayed here any longer you might’ve run out those doors in a blind panic. You reach into your handbag in desperation as you push your contents out of the way to find what you are looking for, hands shaking as your items fall from your bag, but you were too focused on retrieving the item that you were looking for to care.

You start to sweat as you fear the worst finally a shaky gasp falls from your lips as you grab the prescribed pill bottle. You fiddle with the top as you finally got the contents open, you shake the open bottle lightly into your shaken hand as you pop the pill into your mouth, you struggle a little as you swallow the dry pill. Closing the bottle, you place a hand on your beating heart, as you swallow practicing breathing exercises as you felt as start to feel better after taking the pill, feeling the stability, and convincing yourself that its contents were working. though you could breathe right from taking your pills you’ve found yourself having counted on them a bit too much. But you never questioned too far as you were distracted by the results they gave.

Finally coming to your senses, you shakily sigh as you start cleaning up the items dropped shoving them into your bag, along with your pill bottle. Allowing yourself to lean your head back continuing your wait for Michael.

You start to grumble in annoyance, if Michael didn’t show up in the next minute you were leav-

“(y/n)?” you shoot up at the man in front of you, he was in a black hoodie and baggy jeans. He had a mask over his mouth and his hands in his pocket, “h-hey Michael” you shake out a greeting.

Michael took a seat in front of you as he awkwardly looked around, he placed his backpack to the side of him as he finally rests.

“Michael, it’s alright we’re safe here” you assure him also to help yourself as you lean forward to see his face a bit clearly, his flesh was purple. He didn’t smell the nicest, but it was better than the first time you saw him,

“y-yea, I know” his voice was rough and strained as he shakes his head, as if shaking off his anxiety. You decide to get him back on track as you get him to focus as to why he brought you here, “so, why did you ask to see me?” you squint as you kept close to him leaning over the table to try and keep your conversation as private as possible.

“Y-yea, uhm- look I know I have no right to ask for your time s-so thank you for meeting me.” You stare a Michael flabbergasted,

You knew him since you two were preschoolers, having lived next door to each other since his family first moved to Washington County, Utah. You knew his brother, and little sister, and the incident. After that you and your family moved away, having lived close to the Pizzeria and after your own misfortune, your family couldn’t take it any longer leaving your family home to Ohio where your grandmother lived.

But coming back you realized you had no reason to, but nightmares and memories flooding back to you forced you to come back,

You wondered; did he want you back?

Coming to your hometown you didn’t expect to see Michael as you would have thought that his family would have taken the same route as your family did and moved away. However, when you found Michael walking on the sidewalk with groceries you look at the man in slight horror at how much he’s changed, mainly physically, and mentally.

Michael was a rowdy boy growing up constantly fighting for his parents’ attention by doing outlandish stunts. After his mom disappeared leaving him with his absent father, he got worst, hanging out with the wrong crowd, pulling pranks, and finally teasing his brother when his baby sister went missing.

Again, you knew Michael since you both were in preschool; Michael was the new to the neighborhood moving from England, you were fascinated by his accent as a child and because that you’d invite him to play with you.

You watch him change as you both grew up together, as tragedy after tragedy befalls him, now here you both are, finding each other once again, he was now a broken shell. Literally and figuratively, he caught you up on what happened to him when you asked that day you ran into him. He explained in bits and pieces slowly looking over his shoulder, you remember looking mortified at what you learned Michael seemed to catch on as he looks away.

“I’m doing this for a reason, (y/n), this is all for them, to save them.” Since then, Michael invited you for a meal, you were sure it wasn’t for catch up, but you came anyways. The curiosity killing you,

However, another reason tempted you to come as Michael stated that he knew what happened to you brother. With that he left, telling you if you wanted to know more to come to the Pizzeria,

And here you were, Michael in front of you nervously fiddling with his jackets string. “Michael, you said you knew something about my brother” you look to him still fiddling with the string attached to his hoodie. “Please, whatever you know, please tell me. I don’t care about what happened in the past, I just want to know what happened to him.” The desperation in your voice got Michael to finally look at you, and the desperation in your eyes got him talking.

Taking a breath, he reaches into his backpack to pull out a rolled up rectangular sheet of grid paper. It was laminated, as to protect the contents showing on the paper as Michael slips the rubber band from holding the paper as he rolls it out on the table as you realize that what you were looking were blueprints.

However, your mind was having trouble wrapping around at what these blueprints were for, but soon your heart spiked as you gasp realizing now of what you were looking at.

“Where the hell did you get these?” your voice was quiet, but your hatred was visible as disgust crawled its way up your throat or maybe that was fear. Fear of the answer that Michael would give you and the fear of accepting the monstrosity in front of you.

Michael sighs as he predicted this reaction from you, “I found them in this underground basement of Circus Baby Entertainment and Rental, it was made for private parties where people could rent out animatronics for parties.

I worked as a night guard repairing the animatronics before they go out in the day for parties, one night I found those prints in an office, connecting the dots it doesn’t take a genius to know what these animatronics were really built for.” He looks to your paled face hands covering your mouth as your world shifted under you, Michael then continues as he leans over his hand above the prints, you flinch as you catch his purple bandaged up hand in your field of vision however his finger lands on the bottom left-hand corner of the print.

You follow his finger as your body shakes at the bolded tiny letters on the bottom left side corner of the blueprints showing its properties.

“Afton Robotics, LLC” your breathing stops as you finally look to Michaels ashamed face, he looked so guilty as if he created these monsters. “My father, he created the animatronics to trap kids inside, for a reason I don’t know-“ he retracts his hand to fold it under himself,

“When I found this out I started connecting the murders of those kids-“ “They were lured by a rabbit.” Michael nods as he continues, “Spring Bonnie, it was my father's first creation from his first restaurant built with Mr. Emily.”

“W-wait, but Spring Bonnie was shut down after the accident, Freddy’s Pizzeria was in a totally different location than Fred bears Family.” You try and reason as Michael nods again, “I thought that too, however, my dad knew the locations he built inside and out. He had blueprints and cameras littered all over Circus Baby Rental’s basement” Michael scoffs in vexation as his knuckles whitened from how hard he gripped his fist.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he took Spring Bonnie from that location and lured those children into the backrooms.” It made sense, as Afton had access to his animatronics, but why…

“Michael what you are implying is that your dad…murdered all those kids, murdered my brother…” Michael’s brows furrowed as stabs his index into the blueprints, “this is proof, (y/n), that old man always had something going on. Always disappearing into his office, grinning like a crazed lunatic whenever he came home at random hours of the night.” Michael’s teeth clenched as you continue to stare at the blueprints. As they started to reveal something that was trapped in your brain for the longest time,

“The smell, of the animatronics” Michael lifts a brow as he looks to you unsure of what you were getting at.

“After the accident, and after my brother’s disappearance… i-it was a day before my family and I left for Ohio, I wanted to visit it one last time before the Freddy’s Pizzeria closed for good to conduct investigations.” You quickly connect pieces as if they would float away from you, placing a hand on your forehead you continue, “those things, they smelled…rotten, like a decayed animal was stuffed in there.” Tears start to collect in your eyes as they start to fall, finally Michael caught on and gave a sympathetic look.

“Was he in there Michael? Was my brother in there and I left him?” your voice cracked at the revelation you made; your breath hitched as silently cried in front of Michael as emotions washed over you.

Michael didn’t know how to comfort you, deciding it was best to let you ride out the wave of sorrow. Looking away to give you peace in crying without anyone looking at you in fear of feeling embarrassed.

Soon your hiccups reduced to sniffles after a couple of minutes as you look up to Michael who had a napkin in his hand while looking away. you accept it as you mumble a ‘thank you’ as you blew your nose using another napkin to wipe your puffy eyes.

“Thank you, Michael” you finally look to him as Michael turns to you with a nod and a hum accepting your gratitude, “So, where’s your dad now?” you ask after gathering yourself and continuing with your conversation.

“I don’t know, after all that crap that went down he disappeared and I haven’t seen him in years, I gotta call from Mr. Emily a few months back asking if I could help him out find some stuff-“ he scratches his neck as he continues, “which brought to Circus Baby Rental, and I got scooped. After that I got in contact with him and told him everything, ever since then I’ve been trying to look for Father.” You hum as you fold your arms together much like Michael had his, “so when you find him, what’s next?” Michael reaches into his bag to pull out an old looking cassette tape, Masking tape covered the front with the words. “Freddy’s Repair’s” Michael exhales through his nose as he looks at the tape as if it held all the answers, maybe it did.

“I found this tape inside a Freddy head, since Circus Rental was close to Freddy’s company wise and repair wise, my father hada bunch of stuff from old locations. hiding any evidence in the basement where no one would find it.” Michael goes to put the tape back in his bag,

“After I found that video bits of clues haunted the tape telling me to find more to uncover what truly happened, As well as my fathers’ motives.” Michael glides his thumb across his other hands knuckles absentmindedly, “those kids are haunting the tapes, begging to be released. But their sanity is so corrupt they don’t know person from threat.” Michael gathers the blueprint as he sighs, “I need to help them, it’s the only thing that helps clear any sort of conscious. I wanted to tell you the things I learned to inform you of what happened to your brother so you can stop blaming yourself.” Michael slings his backpack behind his shoulder as he stands, it shocks you as you stand with him,

“(y/n), my father is a horrible ma- monster, when I find him, I’m not even sure he’ll be human. I want you to know that if anything happens to me, I wanna ask if you could visit my brother at his grave, could you tell him how sorry I am. And that is big brother is doing everything he can to set his friends free.” Michael looks back to you with a cracked smile, as he walks off.

“Michael! Wait!” you almost make a scene with parents, teenagers, and kids as you race after Michael who wasn’t stopping. You were walking faster as you grab Michael’s shoulder and spun him around once he got close to the entrance,

“You’re not leaving me Michael, not again. You can’t do this by yourself, so I wanna help. And I’m not taking no for an answer, your father murdered my brother, you’re looking to find him and when you do I wanna be the one to throw the first punch.” Your determined frowned turned into a grin as you hold up your fist, you were serious, you wanted to avenge your brother, your mother’s heartache, and your mind from what that monster had taken from you.

Michael looks to you with an unreadable expression, as he exhales through his nose and looks away, “I can’t protect you, those things aren’t just animatronics, you’re gonna see some wild shi-“ you stop him, “I can handle it” you promised as you continue to stare at him.

Michael looks back to you this time with a dead serious expression he grips your shoulders as he looks into your eyes almost trying to find some hint of hesitation, “If you get in trouble, I’m not coming back to rescue you, I was given a mission to save these kids and bring my father to hell with myself included. My journey ends with him under my boot, do you understand?” Michael voice was low, and his accent present. His words didn’t bother you as you huffed and nodded. “I won’t get in your way, Michael.”

Michael still holds you firm your body trapped under his grip as he finally lets go, “fine, let’s go.” Michael reluctantly sighs as he shoves his hands into his pockets continuing his walk. You smile as you catch up to him walking side by side as you both enter the hell that was waiting for you both.

But your determination to save your brother is what calmed your nerves better than any pill could ever do, and Michael smiles as well as he watches you join him glad that he didn’t have to do this alone.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

Oml, I'm so sorry for how long this is... I hope you guys liked this story and don't mind the length omggg ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Love, ⋆˚࿔ Karrots 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

#fnaf x reader #fnaf #fnaf: Sister Location #micheal afton #micheal afton x reader #Fnaf 1 #fnaf 4 #x reader #fnaf 4 x reader #fnaf 1 x reader #fnaf: Sister Location x reader

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luxury-leather · 8 months

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atlasscrumpit · 1 year

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Miguel x reader

(18 PLUS!)

(nsfw murder and blood)

You were on your way home from work, nearing your apartment you heard a strange noise.

You looked around in confusion before you turned the corner into the alleyway near your apartment.

You stared forward in shock, dropping your hand bag as your blood ran cold.

In front of you stood your husband holding a bloody knife in his head with your co-worker dead on the ground below him.

"M-Miguel?" You whispered in utter fear as he looked up at you.

"Oh, sweetheart. You weren't meant to see any of this." He said as you slowly started backing away.

Every step you took back, Miguel took one forward, stepping over the body.

"Easy now, darling. Don't run away, okay? If you run away do you know what will happen? You'll look guilty, sweetheart. The police will find this body and know you had something to do with it." He whispered as he finally stood in front of you and put his bloody hand on your cheek.

Your eyes were wide like a deer in the head lights as you stared into his eyes.

"You don't want to go to jail, do you honey?" Miguel whispered as you shook your head a little.

"Exactly, baby. So, I need you to go up to our apartment, wash yourself off and wait for me, okay? You think you can do that for me?" He asked as you continued to stare into his eyes.

"I know you're scared, love. You don't have to worry about anything, all you need to do is listen to me, alright?" He continued as you nodded again.

"Good girl, I'll see you in the apartment. Don't forget your handbag, sweetheart." He said as you quickly grabbed your bag and ran towards your apartment.

You got up to your level and ran into the apartment, slamming the door closed before you started stripping off your clothes.

Your shaking hands barely being able to get your uniform undone.

You got into the shower and stood under the warm water, the blood on your cheek washing away as you just stared in front of you, your heart beating a mile a minute.

You lost track of time, just standing under the shower staring forward.

You heard the door of the bathroom open and you panicked, pressing yourself against the shower wall.

The shower curtain was pulled back and Miguel stood there, completely cleaned off of blood and in new clothes.

"Oh, sweetheart." He whispered as he began to take his clothes off.

Once he was naked he stepped into the shower with you and made the water a little warmer.

He grabbed a wash cloth and some soap and began to clean your body.

"Oh, darling. You couldn't even clean yourself off, could you? It's okay, I'm here to help." He whispered as he gently washed your skin with the wash cloth.

It was hard to believe that the man that was treating you so gently had just murdered a man.

After he finished he helped you out of the shower and began drying you off.

"Why?" You whispered as he softly wiped off your face of water.

"Let's talk about it soon, sweetheart. You need to get some new clothes on." He whispered in response as you nodded a little and let him lead you out of the bathroom.

He sat you down on your bed before he got some underwear for you and a nightgown.

After he helped you dress he sat beside you and took your hands.

"Can you look at me, Y/N?" He questioned as you slowly looked at him.

"I shouldn't have been so foolish, you were never meant to see any of that. I'm sorry I scared you." He whispered, gently caressing your hands.

"Why did you do it?" You muttered as he reached up and brushed some hair away from your face.

"He was getting too close to you, I knew what he wanted... I know you thought he was just nice but he was attracted to you and I couldn't let that get in the way." He replied as you looked at him with utter horror in your eyes.

"You murdered him because he was attracted to me?" You whispered with disbelief.

You stood up and slowly backed away.

"You can't just kill people, Miguel! What the fuck is wrong with you!?" You screamed as him as he got up and lunged at you, pinning you against the wall and clamping his hand over your mouth.

"Shh, don't be so loud." He growled as you looked at him in fear.

"You don't need to be afraid of me, baby. I'm just protecting you, but I need you to keep this a secret, sweetheart. Can you do that? Because if you don't we're both going to end up in prison, seperate prisons, love. You think you can live without me? Getting fucked and beaten by women?" He asked as you felt tears roll down your face.

He slowly took his hand away and wiped your tears from your face.

"Exactly, sweetheart. So, you need to be good and do as I say. That way you'll never be any danger, and I can have you right here with me forever. Can you do that for me, baby?" He asked, running his finger along your jawline.

"This isn't the first time you've done this... Is it?" You whispered as he sighed.

"No... It's not, I know you don't understand any of this, baby. I have to keep you safe and you have to stay by my side. So, please please be good and just trust me, okay?" He asked as he leaned in to kiss you softly.

You kissed him back and felt yourself starting to relax.

"No, this is all wrong..." You whispered as Miguel looked down at you.

"No one is ever going to hurt you, and I will never hurt you, baby. There's just some things I have to take care of sometimes. You promised you would love me no matter what, didn't you? Do you still love me?" He whispered as he leant in and began kissing your neck softly.

"Come on, baby. Tell me you still love me, I can't lose you." He whispered still kissing your neck.

"I still love you..." You whispered as he pulled away a little and smiled.

"Oh, sweetheart. I love you so much. You don't have to worry about anything anymore, okay? You don't need to go back to your job." He said, going back to kissing your neck.

"I'm going to take care of it all." He whispered as his hand slid under your nightgown and settled on your bare hip.

"I'm scared." You whispered as he looked at you.

"You don't need to be scared, baby. I'm right here and I'm going to protect you." He replied as you slowly leant forward and kissed him softly.

He smiled and pulled you towards the bed and got you to sit down.

"Let's make you forget all about those awful things, baby." He whispered, kneeling at the end of the bed in between yours legs.

"Can I help you feel better, baby?" He asked, resting his hand on your knee.

You looked down at you and nodded, not saying anything.

"That's a good girl." He whispered as he rolled your nightgown up and slowly took your underwear off.

His large hands went to you thighs and gently spread your legs before he leant for and slowly licked along the outside of your pussy.

He pushed his tounge in more and ran his tounge over your clit making you gasp and brace yourself on the bed behind you.

He started to suck on your clit while one of his hands came up and pushed one finger inside of you.

"M-Miguel." You moaned out in a whispered as he continued to pleasure you.

After he had opened you up enough he pulled away and climbed up onto the bed, straddling you and kissing you passionately.

He started pulling down his own pants while he kissed you.

"Do you want me, baby? Do you need me inside of you?" He whispered as he pulled his boxers down and waited for you to respond.

"Yes... Yes please I need you, make me forget." You whispered making him smile.

"There's my good girl."

#miguel o'hara #Miguel x reader #Miguel o'hara x reader

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femmefatalevibe · 2 years

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Femme Fatale Playbook: How To Look More Expensive & Elevate Your Aura

Looking expensive or 'rich' is all about investing in yourself, your appearance, how you carry yourself, and not shying away from signature details or indulgences. Here are some tips to level up your look and demeanor to feel high-class in your daily life – no matter how much money you want to spend in these life arenas.

Appearance:

Prioritize Proper Grooming: Always looking clean and put-together is the ultimate sign of class. Shower daily. Brush, and take care of your teeth. Wash your hair on a regular schedule. Never allow your hair to look greasy – brush and blow dry it regularly. Cleanse, exfoliate, and moisturize every inch of your face and body. Perform your skincare routine religiously. Apply sunscreen daily.

Tailor & Steam Your Clothes: Freshly-pressed and well-fitting clothes always look infinitely more expensive – no matter their price point. Looking rich and expensive is about high self-regard and paying attention to the little details. Ensure your garments look crisp and clean – no wrinkles, pet hairs, loose threads, lint pieces, or fabric bulges highlighting an improper fit.

Create A Classic & Streamlined Capsule Wardrobe: Simplicity radiates a chic sophistication. Go back to the basics with timeless pieces – like a button-down blouse, a classic crewneck sweater, black trousers or straight-leg jeans, leather pants, a leather jacket, a trench or wool coat, a well-fitting cami or tee shirt, a simple slip dress, or a knit set. Focus on a neutral color palette – black, champagne, dark grey, chocolate brown, camel, or crisp white shades. Seek out elevated fabrics – such as Pima cotton, cashmere, washable silk, and buttery vegan or recycled leather.

Invest In Signature Pieces: Spend on "outer shell' items – coats, jackets, heavyweight knits, handbags, and shoes – that directly interact with the outside world and can be worn repeatedly with almost every outfit. Save on items like tee shirts or more simple jewelry pieces that can be found for less while still being fairly high-quality. I recommend Everlane, Lilysilk, and Naadam for affordable basics (Frankie Shop, Skims, and Norma Kamali for moderately priced pieces) and Catbird and Oma The Label for well-priced accessories. Here are all the everyday essentials you need to build the ultimate Femme Fatale Wardrobe.

Simplify Your Beauty Routine: Fresh, clear, and glowy skin radiates rich girl energy. A well-curated skincare routine should do half the heavy lifting. However, you will probably want to include a shade-matched foundation, concealer, and powder into your makeup routine along with a bronze contour, a rosy blush, and a subtle highlighter. Shape and fill in your brows for a polished look. Apply a deep black mascara to your lashes and luscious black eyeliner to your top lid, waterline, and tight line – keep the strokes thin and crisp (create a subtle wing if desired). Finish your face with a deep pink nude, red, or deep wine lipstick/gloss/lip tint. Here's a guide to the ultimate Femme Fatale Beauty Routine for a completely elevated (and sensual) look.

Eat Healthfully & Workout: Health is wealth. Taking care of your body shows self-respect – your most priceless asset. So, incorporate whole, plant-based foods into your daily diet and make it a priority to find movement you love that you can incorporate into your routine multiple times a week.

Lifestyle:

Streamline The Details: The rich girl aesthetic is all about refinement and looking put together at all times. Always have a set of matching pens with coordinating notepads on your desk, a uniform set of coffee mugs on the counter, coasters, glassware, sheets, pillowcases, cold-weather accessories, etc. This attention to detail instant makes your environment look more expensive.

Have Personalized Stationery: A high-value woman isn't shy about leaving her signature touch. Have personalized stationery (thank you notes, greeting cards, business cards, etc.) monogrammed and on hand for anytime you need to send a note or gift to a friend, coworker, boss, client, etc. This addition shows your attention to detail, leaves the recipient something small to remember you by, and adds a human touch to any gift or gesture. Try gold lettering on cream cards for an elegant, expensive look.

Keep Prosecco & Sparkling Water On Hand: Bubbly on a budget feels just as expensive as champagne (and tastes great too). Sparkling water elevates your daily H20 – add some lemon, lime, orange wedges, or frozen berries for a fancy, fruity twist.

Have Proper Place Settings: Neat, thoughtful presentation exudes class and rich energy. Whenever hosting any type of sit-down event or cocktail party, have the plates stacked, glasses and cutlery arranged correctly. Have all of the appropriate utensils readily available. Again, it's all about the details.

Stay Informed & Well-Read: A thirst for knowledge, learning and having the ability to engage in thoughtful, informed, and intellectual imbues a high-class radiance into any room. Read books, learn about different cultures and current events, and invest in studying different industries, and interests. Explore your hobbies. A rich mindset translates and generates an overall elevated aura.

Demeanor:

Learn Proper Etiquette: Address people by name, and offer a firm handshake. Maintain eye contact. Say "please" and "thank you." RSVP promptly. Communicate clearly and compassionately.

Maintain Good Posture: Shoulders back and relaxed. Open your chest. Keep your back straight and your head held high. Take up space. Command presence.

Master The Art of Engaging Conversation: Prioritizing self-presentation, learning how to listen, holding your own, and encouraging others to feel relaxed are the secrets to becoming magnetic in any social situation. Read more of my tips HERE.

Embrace An Abundant Mindset: Free your mind of limiting beliefs and notions of scarcity. There are plenty of opportunities, experiences, and emotions to go around. Another person's success doesn't take away from your potential. Focus on expansion, not envy.

Remain Confident & Unbothered: Believe in yourself. Invest in your well-being. Prioritize your goals and block out the noise from anyone trying to tear you down or criticize you for your ambition, goals, or desires. Stay in your own lane. Allow others to do the same. This is how you level up to elevate into your queen energy to create a rich life and design your dream reality.

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spoilmesweetieforficssake · 2 years

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hiii,

could i please get a fic for melissa schemmenti with this promt from the list that you reblogged:

"I still can't believe you fell in love with me." "Yeah, me neither."

with reader being the one saying that to melissa.

please and thank you so much.

So I couldn’t quite settle on one idea for this one, so it turned into a series of little ficlets (or are they drabbles?) Also, full disclosure, I do not speak Italian so apologies if the tiny phrase included feels out of place or is inaccurate (I used Google).

95% fluff (but with reference to drunk reader, so sorry if you’re not comfortable with that)

You’re sitting on the worktop in Melissa’s kitchen, a cup of tea cradled in your hands. It’s Saturday morning and with nowhere to be, and nowhere else you want to be, you’re being treated to the ever more familiar sight of the red head moving around her kitchen as she makes you both breakfast. She still sports marvellous bed hair, and wears nothing but a sleep shirt and her underwear. It’s a glorious sight to behold.

You’d offered to help, but didn’t put up too much of a fight when Melissa settled you on the worktop, pressing a kiss to your lips and cup of tea into your hand. Her kitchen is her happy place. Everything is set up just the way she likes it and when she cooks it’s like a well-rehearsed dance. It’s a joy to watch, and it warms your heart that she lets you.

“I still can’t believe you fell in love with me,” you say, barely registering you’ve said it out loud.

“Yeah, me neither, kid,” she replies, not even looking away from the cooker. “I mean, the unicorn onesie was one thing, but those…” she gestures at you with her spatula.

You look down at your pyjamas, grinning. You happened to like the rainbows, doughnuts and flying cats combo.

“I still can’t believe you fell in love with me.”

You turn at the softly spoken words, finding Melissa looking at you with a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, me neither,” you smirk. “What with the warm, welcome reception I got when we first met.”

“You spilled coffee on me!” she shrieks. “What was I meant to do? Say thank you?”

You laugh, shifting to lay your head on her shoulder as you both watch Barb and Gerald dance slowly together. They were renewing their vows. It was a beautiful day dedicated to a beautiful couple. It was also the first formal event you had attended as Melissa’s girlfriend. “If I remember right I paid for your dry cleaning and covered your lunch duty for a week.”

“Yeah, you also asked Barb where my favourite coffee shop was and brought me coffee that whole week too,” she reminds you warmly.

“What can I say,” you smile, turning to press a kiss against her skin. “I aim to please. And I had to get into your good books somehow.”

“Hmmm, yeah, you’re just lucky you’re cute.”

You sit up, turning to look at her. “Did you think I was cute then?”

She raises an eyebrow. “When you were practically feeling me up under the guise of helping me get the stain off?”

At least you have the good grace to blush.

She smirks. “Yeah, I did.” She slides an arm around your waist, letting you lean into her as she drops her voice and speaks softly into your ear. “I would ask what you thought of me but I think we both remember that little slip of the tongue.”

“I said the coffee was hot!”

A filthy chuckle falls from red painted lips. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Hon.”

“I still can’t believe you fell in love with me,” you slur as you lean into Melissa, who at this point is supporting most of your weight in your drunken state.

“Yeah, me neither,” quips Melissa. “Hold these,” she tells you, waiting for you to take hold of the heels you were too drunk to walk in before she opens your handbag and fishes out your keys. She was already beginning to regret her offer to pick you up after a girls’ night out with your friends.

You smile at her adoringly as she unlocks the door and ushers you inside. With the door closed behind you she props you up against the wall as she relieves you once again of your shoes before setting to work on your coat.

She dodges your attempt at a kiss. “Kitchen. You’re eating something and getting a drink of water before you even think about going to bed.”

With her hands firmly on your hips, manoeuvring you in the right direction, you make it. “What would I do without you?” you ask as she folds you into a chair at your small kitchen table.

“Break your ankle in those shoes and fall asleep in the gutter?” she offers as she pours you a glass of water and throws some bread in the toaster. Coming back to stand in front of you she presses the glass into your hand. “Drink.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” you reply, throwing in a poorly coordinated two finger salute that gains you a raised eyebrow.

Shaking her head, Melissa leaves you to drink your water as she butters your toast before bringing it over to the table. She sits in the spare seat, her expression softening as she takes in the adoring smile being aimed at her.

“I love you,” you tell her as you put down your now empty glass.

“I love you, too,” she replies without hesitation.

“Even like this?”

A soft smile spreads across her lips. “Yes, il mio asinello, even like this.”

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti

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kittysdiary · 2 years

Text

Kitty’s Pink Princess Winter

It’s been awhile since I made a winter guide so I thought I’d make an updated one since winter is literally my favorite season ever! 🎀❄️🧸

Winter Doll Looks

I am definitely feeling Yves Saint Laurent Fall/Winter 2022 collection but with more pink! Fashion staple fabrics like furs, leather, velvet, silk, cashmere and lace are definitely going into my closet for the colder weather.

Statement wardrobe pieces include:

• Turtle neck dresses

• Fur coats

• Knits

• Leather jackets

• Pea Coats

• Skirts

• Blazers

• Cigarette pants

• Heels + winter boots

• Silk slips

Shopping List

Since the weather has been getting colder, a lot of my clients who come to see me for a facial have been getting flares of dry skin and I can totally relate! Treat yourself to a day at the spa for a facial, mani + pedi or hair treatment to get prepped for the cold weather. Stock up on moisturizers, creams, hair masks, lip scrubs and lip balms!

• Buy gloves or mittens to stay warm and if you’re prone to dry skin in the winter time

• Purchase fragrance free skincare to prevent sensitivity and irritation

• If dry skin is present on your body, try out Peach & Lily’s KP Bump Boss body scrub (my fave!!)

• Get a few Tree Hut body scrubs for fun

• Buy clothes and laundry detergent that are non-irritating

• Get a humidifier to add moisturizer to the air

• Change out your bed sheets and pillow cases. I like to purchase fuzzy blankets and satin pillow cases which helps with my skin + curly hair

• Buy some yummy scented candles + peppermint essential oils for relaxation

• Add cozy slippers, socks, leg warmers, ear muffs + uggs to your winter wish list

• Satin pajama sets and night gowns from Victoria’s Secret

• Sleep masks

• Oversized sweatshirts + velour track suits for lounge days

•Pretty lingerie

• New mugs, cookie cutters, aprons, hot chocolate, tea, coffee and winter baking books should all be on your shopping lists

• Get a cute plush friend and a night light

Winter Glam

• Sleek buns/ponytails

• Bombshell curls

• Black, brown, platinum blonde + auburn hair colors

• Fluffed false lashes or lash extensions

• Lip glosses in any brown, red or pink shade

• Powder matte lipsticks that are nude, deep red or earth tone pink

• Arched eyebrows

• Faux beauty marks

• Warm + spicy fragrances (my favorite winter scent is YSL’s Black Opium Neon + Philosophy’s Fresh Cream & Warm Cashmere)

• Pink blushes

• Setting powders with warm undertones to brighten up your face

• Glitter eyeshadow

Icy Accessories

• Pearls, diamonds + swarvorksy

• Fluffy handbags

• New wallets

• Icy watches

• Hair clips

• Velvet scrunches

• Hair pom-poms

• Scarves

•Umbrella

• Plush spa headbands

• Diamond brooches (yes I know. I’m an old soul 🥹)

•Gold or silver jewelry pieces

Other Winter Doll Tips

• Get a new calendar and use it!

• Write down goals + affirmations for the new year

• Get new books, journals and magazines

• Organize and clean your space

• Stock up on cold and flu medicine

• Get hand sanitizer and hand creams so you don’t dry out your hands

• If you have a Barbie mobile please stay safe on the roads and get your car prepped for the cold weather please!!

• Meditate and manifest

• Don’t forget to check in with therapists and health care providers! Seasonal depression is making its rounds so please make sure you have a good team behind you!!!!

• Stay extra cozy and warm under the blankets + by the fireplace

• Watch holiday movies, bake some sweet treats and go holiday shopping

• Send your loved ones well wishes with letters or cute holiday cards

• Decorate your home while listening to holiday music and clean the snow from the drive way if needed

• Most importantly stay safe and have fun!

Happy Holidays!

Love,

Kitty (xoxo!) 🦌💓

#my post #tips #winter 2022 #i’m a pink ysl doll this winter lol!#kitty’s guide

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theboywithburninghands · 4 months

Text

Haven’t got anything to say this time. Hope you like the latest chapter! @fernstarsblog your tag as always

T/W: Era appropriate sexism

Primum Peccatum Ch. 6: Stuttering, Cold and Damp

Primum Peccatum was only about four miles long, the majority of it empty land purchased by rich families, waiting to be cultivated for their sons’ and daughters’ estates. The trees consisted mostly of black pine, with the occasional thicket of dogwood or white birch.

Landmarks were mostly gathered around the center of the island, other than the handful of completed estates scattered about such as the Shutnyk and Rooker Estates, and the post office, which was by the pier for obvious reasons. These landmarks included the island’s branch of The Gray Church, Lakepoint Assembly Hall, for Homeowners Association meetings and holiday events, and a small freshwater pond known as Falconhurst Cove, named after one of the founders of the island. It contained little, other than 8 feet of water, some small guppies, cattails, algae and a few ducks or loons on occasion. It had been public property for years, a quiet bit of unmanufactured nature for the residents to enjoy.

Pomni sat by Falconhurst with her novel. It wasn’t her favorite spot for reading, that would be her father’s library, but she didn’t want to be in her parents’ vicinity at the moment. Her mother would doubtlessly ask for her opinions on wedding decor and what Pomni wanted her dress to look like. Pomni had told her, several times, quite clearly, that she wanted nothing gaudy, and a black and white color scheme. Her favorite colors were red and blue, yes, but they looked good on flowers and birds, not people.

Falconhurst was a reasonable substitute. Pomni liked the pond. It was a tranquil place, and even in the summertime it didn’t attract very many mosquitos, mostly craneflies and pond skimmers. But the water was stagnant and too filthy for swimming, and while her parents enjoyed feeding bread to the waterfowl, Pomni didn’t much care for them. They were loud and greedy, and they left their droppings all over the grass. Cute as they were, she’d rather be alone.

She was enjoying rereading her novel, even if she had the whole thing memorized. Houston’s prose was so clean and precise. She described settings with such ease. The town in Humidity was as clear to her mind’s eye as was the pond right in front of her. If she were a better artist, she might have attempted to draw it.

There was a tap on her open book, like someone lightly drumming a finger on it. A blotch of water about the size of a pea sat in the middle of page 43. Pomni looked up at the sky, which was a soft gray. She heard other drops land on the leaves of grass and make rings on the pond.

“Oh, blast… I was hoping it would hold off a bit longer.” Pomni sighed. She wiped the raindrop off the page of her book to avoid smearing the ink, shut it and tucked it into her handbag. She got to her feet and began to walk to The Gray Church, about a half mile away. She could wait out the rain in the Assembly Hall just a short walk away, but the HOA President Mr. Kretschmann might have locked the door, and even then, she’d rather be at the church with a friend than in a dark function room by herself. She never liked that place much anyway, with all the tedious parties her parents had made her attend.

The few droplets of rain had picked up into a drizzle as she made her way to the road. Pomni walked beneath the treeline to keep the rain off, enjoying the pleasant sound of raindrops whispering in the pine needles above her. If this weather kept up, she might have actually tried to find an especially dry place to read, but the book didn’t belong to her. So the church it was.

As she walked towards the church, the rain gradually picked up in volume. Hm, this was starting to become risky. She didn’t want to run the risk of a head cold. That would force her to stay at home and listen to her mother’s nattering. She quickened her pace, droplets of water beginning to eke through the pine needles above her with increasing frequency.

She came upon the church on the horizon. What a relief… She hoped Ragatha had the kettle on. It was a bit selfish to think such a thing, but she hadn’t had the chance to enjoy solitude with one of her only friends on this island, at least without being interrupted by that dreadful shapeman with huge teeth.

“Well, it seems our paths align once again, my dear.”

Pomni nearly slipped and dropped her book upon hearing a familiar, glib voice nearby.

Jax Krolik stood out on the road under a black umbrella, clad in his usual gray on gray waistcoat and trousers, although this time with an ultramarine ascot rather than his usual red one. He smiled.

“Mr. Krolik. Is it truly a crossing of paths, or are you following me?” Pomni countered.

“Once again, your talent for presumption truly astounds.” Jax said, his smile not faltering. “I suppose any coincidence you encounter inspires a conspiracy theory, hm? Perhaps my being here was foretold by the very constellations.”

He gave a theatrical wave of the hand. Pomni scoffed, crossing her arms. “A true wordsmith. Do you employ such doggerel with all of your marks?”

“Only with my betrothed. You should come under the umbrella, the rain is picking up.”

“I’m just fine, thank you,” Pomni answered curtly.

“Somehow I find that difficult to believe. Is that a library book? You wouldn’t want that ruined, I’m certain. You have such a fine library at home, I figured you must have some appreciation of the written word.”

“Our agreement, need I remind you, Mr. Krolik-”

Jax merely walked over to Pomni, shading her with his umbrella.

“You needn’t remind me. I’m quite aware. However, it would be ungentlemanly to allow you to stand there and become drenched. You don’t honestly believe the rumors that we beastfolk bite, do you?”

Jax seemed to show more of his teeth.

“I… Appreciate the gesture, I suppose. Even if it is basic courtesy.” Pomni said. “Must you always act so… self-assured?”

“Act? My self-assurance is entirely genuine.”

“Genuine it may be, yet no less irritating. If you wouldn’t mind, please tell me why you’re here.”

Jax pointed to the church in the distance. “I was just about to inquire if the island’s Gray Sister had seen my sister-in-law. I heard footsteps and thought it may have been Kali, but, alas, it was only you.”

Pomni rolled her eyes. “Hmm. I encountered Kali on the ferry earlier. She said she was on her way to visit you. Has she become lost?”

“Hardly,” Jax replied. “I had one last query for her, but I had forgotten all about it until after she left The Rooker Estate. I saw her leave in this direction.”

“Yes, she told me she was going to the church,” Pomni said. “She may still be inside.”

“Wonderful! Let’s investigate together, shall we?” Jax strode forward, Pomni having to quicken her pace to keep dry beneath his umbrella.

This marked the second time her fiancé had intruded on one of her sanctuaries. It was fortunate he had an umbrella, but that was coincidental, surely. It seemed this fellow had no intention of following the agreement that he himself put forth… disappointing yet ultimately unsurprising.

“How are the wedding preparations coming along in your household, Ms. Shutnyk?” asked Jax.

“Er… I wouldn’t know. I’ve been doing what I can to remain distant from the whole business. I assume that’s why you’re living here on Primum Peccatum rather than on the mainland. Apart from ‘keeping up appearances,’ that is.”

Jax grinned yet again. His frequent smiling disturbed Pomni. She only smiled if something truly made her happy, otherwise her affect was neutral at all times. Her mother had scolded her so often for that. What was so amusing to Jax?

“You could say that’s one reason. Event planning always seemed like an exercise in drudgery. But I also wanted to explore where I would be living for the rest of my days. And what a charming little island it is!”

Pomni nodded. “Even in spite of your dyspepsia?”

Jax looked puzzled for a moment, before his smile lengthened again.

“My dyspep- Ah, yes! Of course. Apologies for leaving you so suddenly yesterday. I have a delicate constitution.”

Pomni squinted. It seemed as though he had forgotten about his ailments, even if they had him rushing to the water closet only yesterday. Which meant either these digestive issues happened so frequently that Mr. Krolik genuinely forgot about having them yesterday… or he wasn’t telling the truth. Perhaps he had become crawsick. Kinger did have a rather extensive wine collection.

Jax continued speaking. “I must say, it does rain quite often in New Hirnantia. Back when I was just a lad and my family still resided in Ediacara, we were lucky to get rain more than twice in one month. Yet here-”

“Mr. Krolik, is this conversation necessary?” Pomni interrupted.

Jax stopped walking. “…I suppose not. But, if we are to be wed, we should at least tolerate one another’s company. It would be a miserable existence if we spent our days bickering, would it not? I would call that a waste of a life.”

Pomni hummed. “Very well, but may we discuss something other than the weather? That topic is rather banal.”

The pair reached the heavy oak door to the sanctuary, Jax rapping on it smartly. After a moment, the hasp could be heard being undone and the door opened with an achy iron creak.

Sister Ragatha’s oddly grim expression brightened upon seeing a familiar face.

“Well good afternoon, Pomni! And who might you be sir?”

Jax extended a hand. “Good afternoon, sister. Jax Krolik. Miss Shutnyk’s fiancé.”

Pomni blinked for a few moments too long.

Ragatha looked at his gloved hand for a moment, uncertain of what to do, before she took it in both of her hands and squeezed it.

“Allfather bless you, Mr. Krolik. I am Sister Ragatha, acting priestess for this branch of The Gray Church. Please come in, both of you.”

She motioned the pair inside, Pomni removing her shoes at the door. Jax unzipped his wide boots and stepped out barefoot onto the carpet, sighing with relief. He hung his umbrella out the door and shook the rainwater off of it before closing it and hanging it on one of the hooks.

“What brings you to this house of worship in such unpleasant weather? Ah- pardon me,” Ragatha removed the hood of her habit, letting her bright red curls cascade onto her shoulders. She shook her head and sighed. “I’ve been meaning to get my hair trimmed.”

“I was wondering, ma’am, if you’ve seen my sister-in-law today. She looks much like me, but with orange fur rather than purple.” Jax explained.

Ragatha thought for a moment. “Hm… I don’t believe I have. The only people I’ve seen today are the two of you, apart from confessors. And naturally, I don’t know their identities.”

Jax’s face fell. “Ah, I see. No matter, thank you for your time, ma’am.”

“If you’re worried for her, I could help organize a search party. This is a rather small island, I’m sure we could have the whole community combed over in just a few hours.” Ragatha suggested, but Jax was already pulling his boots back on.

“That’s unnecessary, sister. I’m sure we merely missed one another. Have a truly sanctimonious day.” Jax pulled the church door open and marched off into the rain, which had hastened considerably.

“Mr. Krolik..!” Pomni called after him. She watched him splash down the road until he disappeared over the crest of the hill leading towards her parents’ and Mr. Rooker’s estate. She made a noise of annoyance and returned to the chapel.

“Sanctimonious..?” Ragatha said to herself. “I can’t tell if he was being rude or simply used the wrong word.”

“More than likely the latter. A poet, he is not.” Pomni replied, looking at the dripping umbrella Jax left on the hook.

“Hm, well, hopefully he won’t catch his death of cold. You’re welcome to stay here until the rain subsides, of course.” Ragatha said.

“Thank you, I may take you up on that offer.” Pomni hadn’t taken her eyes off of the umbrella. She sighed. He kept her dry long enough to get to a place of refuge. She had to return it. “No, I shouldn’t. He’ll be missing that umbrella.”

Ragatha smiled proudly. “Well, that’s a very charitable thing to do, Pomni. I’m sure The Hereafter just became a bit easier for you to see.”

“Hmph,” was Pomni’s reply. She stepped out onto the stoop, opening the umbrella in a shower of droplets. She held it over herself and tucked her book under her arm, and walked cautiously to the steps.

“Oh, Pomni! One moment before you leave!” Ragatha came to the doorway, a smile alighting her face. “Your mother plans on having your wedding here, at this very church. So I’ll be the officiater!”

Pomni smiled in return. It took some

effort, but she maintained eye contact. “Well, if it must happen, I’d be delighted to have you wed me, Ragatha. Have a wonderful day.”

“You as well, little sister. Stay dry.” Ragatha beamed and shut the door to the church. Pomni itched at her arm. While she abhorred this whole situation, she did feel a small bit better that one of her best friends would be officiating and not a stranger.

As she walked down the rainswept path, questions buzzed in her mind like irritating little fruit flies. Kali told her she was going to The Gray Church, yet Ragatha said she had only spoken to anonymous confessors today. So she must have been confessing. But what about? Something to do with Jax? Had she lied about thinking Pomni could run her father’s business? That would certainly be a dagger in her back… And why had Jax gone to find her? There was mention of a question, yes, but her fiancé had already told many half-truths… none of it added up. She supposed she’d have to ponder this more carefully once she wasn’t in the driving rain.

The pink Shutnyk Estate came into view, but Pomni walked right past it towards Mr. Rooker’s manor. Hopefully the rain would let up at least a little by the time she headed back home. Her book would be wet pulp if she walked uncovered in this deluge. She turned into Kinger’s raggy garden, and stopped when she saw a figure sat against the front door, elbows on their knees.

“Mr. Krolik?”

Sure enough, it was Jax, purple fur dripping wet, leaning against the Rooker estate’s locked door in water-darkened clothes. He looked over at Pomni, smirking.

“We meet again. Maybe it was preordained.”

Jax walked through this without any kind of protection? What a foolish thing to do. Still, her chest did ache with a mote of pity for the rabbit. No one deserved to be soaked to the bone and trapped outdoors, even if they were at fault. Thank goodness it was warm out or he may be risking his life out here…

“Why aren’t you indoors?!” Pomni demanded.

“Well, it would appear Mr. Rooker left for the day, and neglected to tell me.” Jax replied.

“And he didn’t give you an extra key?!” Pomni asked, having to raise her voice over the rain.

“No, he did not.”

Pomni scoffed and walked up onto the wet stoop. She took out her ring of keys, finding the extra one Kinger lent her ages ago to feed his insect collection, and unlocked the door. Jax climbed to his feet, water drooling off of his sleeves and pooling under his boots.

“There. I apologize on Mr. Rooker’s behalf. The old duffer’s memory isn’t exactly reliable. Be careful not to get water on any of his documents, or you’ll be out in the cold. Here’s your umbrella. Good afternoon.”

“You’re certain you want to go out in that?” Jax nodded towards the now torrential rain.

“I don’t have much say in the matter, do I?” Pomni retorted.

“You could always wait out the downpour.” Jax said.

“That is not ideal.” Pomni stated firmly.

“Sometimes the ideal choice isn’t possible. Look at us.” Jax said with a grin.

“Oh for the love of The Allfather… Very well. Only because I fear for my book.”

She stepped inside Kinger’s estate, removing her sunhat and placing it onto one of the stacks of paper. Jax stepped inside, removed his soaked-through boots and jacket.

“Excuse me. Please don’t disrobe in front of me.” Pomni requested sharply.

Jax didn’t reply, opening the door and wringing his sopping wet waistcoat out. There was a clink as a small glass tincture bottle fell out onto the stoop.

“Oh, thank goodness that didn’t break…” Jax picked it up hurriedly.

“What is that?” Pomni inquired.

“That is what’s going to keep me from falling ill. An Ediacaran holistic. Good for most minor ailments such as dyspepsia and immune health.”

He removed the dropper from the bottle, sticking out his tongue and squeezing two drops of reddish brown liquid onto it.

“I see,” Pomni said. “And it works?”

“Most certainly. I always carry a bottle on my person. Would you like to try some? The flavor is quite unpleasant.”

Pomni held a hand out in opposition. “I’m quite alright, thank you. I’d rather use real medicine…”

“Suit yourself, dear. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get into something more presentable.”

“Very well… You may do so.”

Jax nodded and began removing his shirt.

“In your bedchamber.” Pomni ordered.

“Ahhh, you must be more specific next time, dear.” Jax replied with a grin. He went upstairs to the second floor. Pomni shook her head in disbelief, going into the kitchen to put on the teakettle.

From outside, a shapeman in red watched through the window. He held a red umbrella above his head, made up almost entirely of teeth. Despite the downpour, both he and his umbrella were dust-dry. He checked to see if it was still raining. Water hit his glove and beaded off. He folded his umbrella, twirling it in his hand, and walked into the woods.

#the amazing digital circus #funnybunny #jax x pomni #tadc jax #tadc pomni #oh no cringe #tadc #tadc ragatha #tadc caine #tadc arranged marriage au

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