#it's very promising and also smells of woman's perfume

[blunt-force-therapy]

It's really A Feeling when your far right wing, selectively racist grandfather gives you a book by Isabel Allende as a gift. Pops, do you know who her uncle was?

[sleepinthrumyalarms]

— power plays, pillow talk

pairing: victoria neuman x fem!reader

warnings:: smut, lesbian sex, size difference, strapon referred to as cock

summary:: a bottle of good wine, homemade dinner, a sweet little thing warming up her bed – what more could victoria possibly ask for after a long workday?

word count:: 1.5k

a/n: wow i'm rusty, haven't written smut in a good long while. starting off a bit vanilla with vicky. also she would 100% talk you thru it. i don't make the rules

never in her life had victoria neuman ever felt the need to compensate for something. a woman in power, in more ways than one, she never needed to climb through the ranks, simply gliding through them, a casualty or two on the way.

she had it all – a big car, a big house, a big desk at the Congress.

so you suppose it’s fitting; the big, girthy toy she has strapped around her hips under the material of her dress pants.

it’s huge, actually – got to be six inches at the very least, and that’s without taking into consideration the fact that you’ve never had any eye at all – of a dark, wine red color, the thick, thoughtfully lubed shaft glistening under the dim lights.

that one image of a hamster chomping down on a banana ten times his size pops up in your head.

your throat bobs with a soft gulp — oh god. you’re the hamster.

but victoria is nothing if not considerate. a soft silky pillow is lying under the small of your back, angling you properly for her, and the bedroom you share smells distinctly of something dark and woodsy, heady but not enough to overwhelm, the scented candles a welcome sensation that serves to relax you further.

when her hands grab ahold of your hips, thumbs pressing into the hipbones, you buck into her touch involuntarily. you’re not sure if it’s anxiety or arousal.

“no-no, that won’t do, pretty girl…” victoria chides softly, gives a playful little squeeze as a warning. “you promised you’d be good."

well, that’s true. you did.

you’re almost embarrassed – two glasses of cabernet sauvignon in and you’re already unable to think of anything but how much you want her. your skin tingles with anticipation, the gentle pressure of her hands grounding you as they slowly map their way up and down your body, caressing the undersides of your breasts, your shoulders, the plane of your belly. the warmth of the room wraps around you like a comforting embrace, the scent of the candles mingling with the subtle notes of the woman’s perfume – victoria’s hands work your body like dough, and that combined with the sight of the powerful politician standing between your thighs, all veneer and perfect composure, dark brown eyes trailing over your naked form like a feast is enough for your legs to part further. she doesn’t even have to ask.

“just like that, sweet thing. open up for me,” her palms rest on your thighs and she leans in to press a few gentle kisses to the side of your neck.

it’s intoxicating – her touch, her scent, how tender she’s with you, loving. you’re so aroused it’s starting to hurt.

“vicky…”

“i know, i know,” she murmurs. “need to get you ready for me first.”

she slides her ring finger through the warm petals of your pussy, humming at the wetness gathered there, and she can’t help but indulge herself. she leans down, face level with your cunt, and licks a thick stripe through the dripping warmth, teasing another involuntarily buck of your hips and a whimper from you.

you should’ve known she’d be too greedy to waste all that sweetness on her fake cock — she laps and slurps at you with gentle vigor, palm squeezing your hip to keep you from bucking into her mouth again. it’s a soft, affectionate kind of pleasure — victoria doesn’t rush, doesn’t push you too much too soon, deliberately avoiding your puffy clit to keep from any possible overstimulation.

you sigh softly, leaning your head back against the pillows, but before you can enjoy the heavenly sensation any further, she pulls away with one last flat lick, guiding your thigh to press against her hip.

the head of the toy pushes tantalizingly against your entrance, its smooth surface just barely parting your folds before she pulls back, sliding the silicone along your slit once more – the motion is slow and deliberate, the toy gliding easily through your wetness, teasing you with its presence. every so often victoria lets the tip dip inside, a fleeting, electrifying intrusion that leaves you aching for more, before withdrawing it again. the sensation sends shivers up your spine, your body instinctively arching towards the source of pleasure – but you know she’s doing it to get you nice and ready for her, as if the sloppy little courtesy licks weren’t enough.

"fuck, you're so wet," she whispers, her voice thick with satisfaction. "so eager. it's almost too easy."

she presses her hips more firmly this time, her cock breaching your entrance and slipping inside with a smooth, deliberate motion. the sensation is overwhelming, your body accommodating the intrusion with a mixture of relief and intense pleasure. she holds herself there for a moment, letting you feel the stretch and fullness.

god, it’s big – bigger than anything you’ve ever taken before. for a moment an alarming thought of not being able to fit the intimidating girth inside you shoots through your lust-clouded brain, but the smile on victoria’s painted lips tells you that she will make sure you do.

you tilt your head back with a shaky breath, and she chuckles, leaning in to nose at your earlobe, “good?”

biting your lip, you manage a nod in reply, hiding your face in her neck as you try to process the sensation.

victoria sets a slow, torturous pace, pulling out almost completely before sliding back in, her thighs kissing the backs of your legs. her hand shifts from your hip to your navel, gently sliding along your skin and pressing against your warm, sensitive stomach for purchase – the action so undeniably erotic it has a broken moan tearing from your mouth.

“oh?” victoria quirks a thick eyebrow, perfect white teeth peeking out to worry a plump lip between them. “does that feel good, sweet girl?”

her palm presses just the slightest bit firmer, enough to heighten the pleasure of her silicone cock pushing deep inside of your cunt deliciously as her fingers sprawl over the flesh of your belly — it flutters under her hand, muscles struggling to accommodate the enormous intrusion.

“d’you feel me here?” she asks, voice a silky purr, dripping with control and a hint of amusement as her hips drive the toy deeper into you, each thrust deliberate, strong, unyielding. “such a pretty tummy, baby… so, so perfect.”

you can’t even speak.

victoria leans down, her breath warm against your ear as she whispers, “i love how you open up for me… how you take every inch like you were made for this.”

the pressure in your stomach intensifies as she slows her movements, dragging each thrust out to an agonizing pace. her thick cock feels impossibly full inside you, stretching you in a way that teeters on the edge of pain and ecstasy.

"such a good girl, letting me stretch you, fill you up. gonna make it the only size you’ll ever take. the only that can ever satisfy you.”

she shifts her hips, the change in angle making you gasp as the toy hits that sweet spot inside you, the pleasure so intense it almost hurts. victoria's other hand that isn't busy trying to feel herself through the thin wall of flesh of your belly moves to prop herself next to your head, caging you in with her presence, and you reach to desperately hold onto her bicep, fingers digging into the dark blue of her power suit she has insisted on keeping draped over her shoulders.

“there you are, pretty girl. so close. so, so close, sweet thing. need you to cum for me."

victoria's pace quickens, hips snapping forward, and with a final, shuddering breath, you let go, the pleasure crashing over you in waves, overwhelming and all-consuming. she guides you through it, soft, reassuring whispers as she follows you into bliss, a guttural groan escaping her lips – for a moment the world is nothing but the two of you, tangled together in a haze of pleasure.

with the waves of white ecstasy beginning to ebb, she slows her thrusts to a gentle rhythm before withdrawing slowly, the loss of her presence inside you almost as intense as when she was buried deep. you whimper at the emptiness, your body still trembling with aftershocks, and her warm hands soothe the feeling away, a small, amused smile on her full lips, “thoughts?”

as if that isn't obvious.

you groan in response, wrap your arms around the woman’s shoulders to tug her down and press your lips against hers hungrily. then you pull away, breathless in satisfaction, and grin up at her, “fucking amazing. i wasn't even sure it’d be possible.”

victoria hums, her palm caressing your thigh thoughtfully, “in that case… you think you can take more?”

not one for being patient behind closed doors, she grasps your hips, coaxes you onto your stomach with firm hands.

“what am i saying. of course you can take more. cock-hungry little slut.”

the degrading words make you whimper into the silky pillow, and victoria coos, her tone the slightest bit patronizing, “ohh, yes you are, sweet thing. no use denying it.”

her fingers dig into your soft flesh, and suddenly all the warm tenderness is gone from her voice.

“up. don’t make me repeat myself.”

[houpss]

𝐁𝐚��𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

soft and fluff, will be about all members (!), there may be hints of smut

Chan, who sees the meaning of life in you and wants to see you always in front of him all his life.

What do they say? People who truly love will die one day.

Chan, who promised to love you until the day death finds him, and even after that. He doesn't want to leave you.

The most tender dates, the most tender times. He will give you all his love and attention.

Chan, who tells the members so much about you, you are their “9th member”

Chan, who you're talking to video call with his family! and btw with yours too.

Chan, who, regardless of how busy the day is, will spend the evenings with you. Whether it's cooking or watching a movie/serials/k drama

Chan, who remembers every little thing about you and does what you don’t even ask for, but are clearly thinking about.

Meeting Chan was fate, maybe you were given each other by fate?

Oh..he looks at you like an angel, his eyes shine so brightly when he sees you!

Chan, who gives you a large bouquet of your favorite flowers every Friday.

He writes you songs, from the sad to the most vulgar... oh, the boy is simply overwhelmed with emotions for you.

Chan, who takes you on all his world tours because he finds it difficult without you.

He is the most gentle and sweetest with you! your heart literally breaks with love for him, you want to love and kiss this man.

Chan, who sits you on his lap while he works and holds your waist with one hand...babe, he has hot and big hands

Chan, who pays for ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING for you. seriously, even if you argue with him.

I wrote this situation, but...

"Channie, make me some coffee please"

"Ugh...I'm late, little mouse"

"So you won't do it? :("

"That means I’ll be late” and goes to make coffee for his beloved woman/man

His favorite terms of endearment for you are subtle but classic: “sweetheart” and “baby,” but on special occasions he will call you “sweetheart” with a matching saccharine expression. Or “little mouse”, which is also very cute

Chan, sometimes he can get angry and yell at you, but that's because he puts too much pressure on himself at work.

Oh..during your quarrels even plates and insults fly. After one quarrel, there were broken plates and you cut yourself, he noticed this and took you to the bathroom, where he treated the wound and apologized to you almost a hundred times. And the plates...buy new ones.

Chan, who practices flirting with you like you're in high school, but he learned it from STAY

Chan, who gives you all his hoodies and absolutely everything... for some reason you love to steal his shorts and walk around the house in them. Ooh, he thinks they fit really sexy on your hips.

He'll give you a bear hug when you sleep, he's a big spoon

He also always kisses your forehead when he leaves for work, because you are still sleeping, and he is already leaving.

but keep in mind, Chan makes sweet sex to you, but his stroking game is so crazy, even when he takes his time with you, he's so deep inside you that it drives you crazy, you're literally pray

Chan is an experienced and mature man, he is completely confident in himself and in you. He takes the leading position in the relationship, he is the one who leads.

Do I need to tell you that all his things smell like your perfume? What if all your things are in his perfume?

You sometimes help him with lyrics or with song arrangements when he gets stuck and doesn’t understand what’s best to add.

You, who pulls the vat out of the studio.

You, who always checks how he ate or how much he slept. You absolutely monitor his regime and make sure he doesn’t overwork.

You are flying to Australia together to visit his family! they will bless your couple.

Hannah will definitely say funny things about Chris, and Lucas is so shy around you.

Oh...Berry, baby Berry 🥹🥹🥹

How about date nights?

You really raised Chan's self-esteem, with you...he fell in love with himself, just as you love him.

He's just grateful that you exist.

First love is always last love.

“Home” is not a place, it is sometimes only a man, the man whom you consider your home.

When you come, all Chan’s problems and wounds heal, he wants to live next to you.

[kurogane2512]

A request about Natasha,himeko, Kafka when they are jealous, seeing FEM reader (trailblazer) with someone?

Game: Honkai Star Rail

Characters: HSR Himeko, Natasha, Kafka x fem! reader (trailblazer)

Type: Suggestive fluff (implied sex later, slight possessiveness)

Himeko

She won't get jealous very easily, she trusts the bond between you two a lot and knows you are loyal. She can look past a lot of behavior, especially since you come to her arms every time and promise your love with the most passionate kisses.

However, everyone has a limit. She hates having to continuously watch every woman you come across flirt and touch you, suggestively or not. A few even dared to invite you out, but she keeps her thoughts in as you always firmly deny. The way you look at her is exceptionally different from the way you look at those women, and that gives her enough assurance that you are hers.

But, Himeko is prone to loneliness. The more she watches and tolerates, the more distant she starts feeling from you. She hates thinking this way because she knows you'd never betray her but she can't help her thoughts.

Himeko was informed of your return to the train and immediately went out to greet you, only to be upset as she could smell sweet perfumes from your body, your clothes disheveled and spotted a faint red mark on your collar. Dan Heng and March had long returned to their rooms and only you two remained in the entryway of the train, staring at each other as an awkward atmosphere engulfed you.

"What....happened out there?" Himeko asked, almost in disbelief.

"Uh....i-it seems I accidentally wandered into certain....districts of the city."

Himeko squinted her eyes, "Again? This is the fifth time on your expedition here."

"I know but it's so confusing to navigate here! The women recognized me and pulled me inside, I denied so much and tried to come out but they kept surrounding me...."

"....And let me guess, March and Dan Heng had to save you? Just like every time?"

You nodded out of guilt, looking away. You couldn't meet your eyes with her even though you did nothing wrong.

"I-I'm sorry, I promise nothing happened....Uh, let me go get changed!"

You tried to walk away but she grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards her room, immediately pushing you on the bed and straddling you. It was a surprising action from Himeko, she would rarely act this way. Before you knew it, she dived in to kiss your neck and make numerous marks on your chest and face. You felt her tongue lap strips along your skin, her teeth sinking in your collarbone and lips wrapping to suck.

"When will you keep testing my patience?" she whispered in your ear.

"W-What?! No, I don't mean to! I'm really sorry, I never did anything there!"

"I know that! I know you wouldn't, I trust you. But....how am I supposed to help feeling this way?!"

She shouted as she embraced you and snuggled into your neck, you smiled and wrapped your arms around her before sniffing her hair.

"You don't have to do anything. It's my responsibility, I made you feel this way then I will also help you through it. I promise."

She gazed up at you with a pout then pecked your lips, "You have a lot of making up to do."

"Yes, ma'am~"

She chuckled before sitting up on your lap and sliding her dress down, the two of you spending an intimate and passionate night together.

"Hmm, perhaps I should accompany you from next time~"

Natasha

Similar to Himeko, she doesn't get jealous too easily either. Once again, she trusts the bond between you two. She knows you are naturally very caring and helpful; you helped her in a similar manner, after all. She is very sweet and motherly in general, loads of children flock around you and she gets a warm fuzzy feeling in her chest watching you with them.

Well, children are fine but what about their mothers? Natasha often sent you out to deliver medicines and other necessities to several homes, many of which had only a single mother and a child. You ended up helping the mothers more than required by taking care of some chores and babysitting their kids in emergencies.

You were simply helping out of goodwill as life in the Underworld was hard enough. Was it your fault when some of them became infatuated with you?

"Y/n, there's a package for you." Natasha called out to you and you came to her office to see a box wrapped in pretty ribbon kept on it, a small card attached to it which read 'For dear Y/n, thank you once again for helping around the house. I baked these for you. Come and see me again sometime~' The undersigned was a name you recognized, one of Natasha's longtime patients who often had her son checked up at the clinic.

You blushed slightly and opened the box to find handmade cookies inside. Natasha looked at you in amusement then smiled and patted your head, "Oh my~ These look really delicious. Looks like she has taken quite a liking to you, always sending a gift for helping her~"

You looked away in embarrassment, "I....I'll tell her to stop doing this, it's a waste of food and it's enough times now...."

"Oh, that reminds me. There was another letter for you in the morning while you were out on deliveries, it completely slipped my mind."

Natasha opened her drawer and took out a bright pink colored envelope with a rose seal, you nervously opened it and read the scented letter before quickly putting it back in.

"What does it say?"

"N-Nothing! It's just one of our patients thanking us!"

Natasha gave a small smile and stood up then swiftly snatched the letter out of your hand and skimmed through it before you took it back.

"I-It's not what you think it is! I have always rejected her, I—"

"Sshh~" her index finger brushed your lips before she leaned in to peck them.

"I know you are quite....attractive in their eyes. You help them so much and even take care of their children, it's no wonder they'd start liking you differently."

"N-No, but...."

She wrapped her arms around your body, "I trust you, my sweetheart. But....if someday you perhaps find someone better and want to leave then—"

"No! What are you saying?! Why would I?! I love you!"

Natasha looked at you wide-eyed then averted her gaze, "I....I just feel they treat you better than me. I'm very grateful that you chose me and love me but I'm used to people pushing me away so—"

"No! Stop it, I won't do that!" you pulled her into your embrace tightly. She was surprised for a bit then patted the back of your head.

"I won't deny I felt a litte....envious reading that and seeing all these gifts they send you...."

You leaned back and cupped her face before kissing her deeply, "Then tell me! I'll do something, I don't want you to feel that way!"

She smiled affectionately then suddenly pushed you down on the couch behind you and straddled your lap before you could react. You gazed at each other and shared a gentle kiss, no need of exchanging any words as her eyes told you everything.

Kafka

Oh, she definitely will have the most spontaneous reaction, and she will get jealous rather quickly as well. You are hers and she won't spare a moment to convey that. If she sees you being even slightly friendly or out of line with someone then expect to be immediately pulled away by her strings.

She is certainly possessive of you, it's not that she's insecure you'll leave her but she simply can't tolerate you being away and around others who act a bit too friendly with you. Maybe she'll lock you away in a room with herself and not let you come out before next morning~

"K-Kafka, I'm sorry—You misunderstand...." you pleaded out to Kafka as you sat on the bed, your arms bound to the bedposts by her strings while she straddled your lap and gazed at you.

"Hm? I misunderstand? Hehe, oh Y/n...you should choose your next words carefully~"

She tightened the strings as her eyes glowed, leaning closer to your body. She swiftly tore away your shirt, exposing you half naked body to herself before diving in and kissing you all over.

"You have been really out of line recently, you know that? We visited the Astral Express for a brief moment and you ended up befriending them....especially that woman, Himeko. Did she say some sweet words to sway you?~"

"N-No! She barely even tolerates me-mhm! You know s-she hates us...ngh~"

"She may hate us but she can certainly like you. And you don't even attempt to deny her, are you that desperate for attention?~"

"N-No, I'm sorry....I won't do it again..."

"Say that you are mine. Swear that you belong to me."

"I-I'm yours! I'm yours! I won't ever do it again!"

You shouted out desperately and she finally removed the strings, your arms falling limp out of pain and she placed an intense and passionate kiss on your lips.

"Good girl~ That's what I like to hear~"

[red-riding-wood]

Saltwater Tears

@runnning-outof-time K... Tumblr ate your ask when I saved it to my drafts so I apologise for the shitty screencap (I always take these beforehand in case it does this lol). And thank you for the request. <3 As I promised, I brought all the angst.

Also, while writing this, the character/reader reminded me of the song Dragonslayer by Lana Del Rey (Isa, you have ruined me) so I decided to use that as some added inspiration.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x F!Reader

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

WARNINGS: Angst, sexual references, mentions of cheating, language

WC: 1816

Thomas’ words still echoed through your throbbing skull, no amount of his haughtiness lost on your memory as you trudged through the rain slicked streets. The coldness of his gaze was blazoned on the forefront of your mind, the flippancy with which he had dismissed you after the tense meeting with your father as if you were merely a trophy to flaunt before shelved to suffocate in a slow build of dust.

And with each step, your lungs seemed to constrict tighter. With each step, you remembered bits and pieces of the evidence you’d found of his infidelity – the unfamiliar hair brush on his bedside table, the smell of another woman’s perfume on his sheets. You hadn’t wanted to believe it, hadn’t found your suspicion to be unbearable until now.

He called your name past the roar of the storm, but it only drove the spike in your heart deeper each time, your tears mingling with the cold of the rain and your body shuddering from head to toe.

And yet, every time your name was uttered, you couldn’t help but falter, your bleeding heart beating for him and some cruelly human part of your mind urging you to turn back and let yourself fall into arms that would be so warm in the cold, that would soothe the bitterness in your burning veins.

You jumped back, a sheet of filth drenching the skirt of your dress. A shiver seemed to travel to the very marrow of your bone, and as you stopped, staring in shock at the car that sped by and the road you had nearly stepped across, your heart felt as if it were about to split your ribcage in half.

“Y/N.” A gravelly yet distant voice called to you so soft now, a warm breath on your neck sending another shiver to your aching bones. You turned, slowly, and swallowed your grief as you met Thomas’ piercing eyes. Once his touch grazed the bare of your arm, it was over. You weren’t going anywhere.

“Let’s talk about this,” he said, catching his own breath as his fingers travelled down the length of your arm and laced with your own that shivered, numb, from the cold.

That was the first time you had ever heard Thomas Shelby suggest you talk about anything, and it pulled at an aching heart.

“Okay. Let’s talk,” you breathed, voice nearly washed away by the roar of the storm. You blinked fiercely, lashes fluttering in the rain that struck them. “You never told me your history with my father.”

“It’s in the past,” Thomas said, and you nearly winced at his words. As his other hand reached to brush the hair slicked to your cheek, you flinched away. And like that, your bleeding heart came undone, and you said, “Really, that little pissing match was ‘in the past’? The entire purpose of that meeting was just to rub his nose in the fact that you fucked me.”

Thomas’ hand seemed to catch in the air, not used to this side of you. The side of you that was bitter, that was fed up.

And he didn’t say anything. But his fingers loosened from yours.

You choked back a sob, and your words came weaker now, and you stammered over them because you couldn’t believe what you were saying, didn’t want to imagine him answering. “Did you… did you ever… Do you really want me? Or is this your way of getting back at my father?”

All your life, you’d been taken advantage of by men who wished to grow closer to your family for their ties and their power. And while your father had many enemies – the Blinders included – you never could have imagined that someone would pretend to love you just to hurt him, let alone the one person who seemed to understand you, who’d offered you some ounce of reprieve in this unforgiving city.

You’d been used many times, but this, this was different. It would’ve hurt less had you stepped onto that road.

Thomas was still silent, chest heaving as he panted out his own breaths. Blue eyes twisted with grief, the bright of them taking your reluctant mind through memories of the pastel sky above the two of you as you rode through the countryside, of the dress he had bought you and had said did not compare to your beauty.

Your fingers bunched the drenched fabric of the very same dress, peeling wretched garment from your flesh as if it caged you to such memories. You tried not to think of all the times you’d worn it for him, that it had been discarded across the same bed that had been inhabited by other women.

“I know about her,” you added bitterly. “Or them. I know about them.” Your eyes bled tears, and your heart pumped venom. “I’ve lied to myself for too long,” you said, as you began to turn away. “Goodbye, Thomas.”

“They were just business.”

You halted, anger flaring from the raw ache of your heart, and you spun on your heel. “So you’re using them, too?” you snapped. “Everything is business with you, Thomas. Everything. Even me.”

“You’re not just business.” He took a step forward. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

It seemed as if your heart hadn’t broken enough. At his words, it shattered in your chest.

“Y/N, I want you,” he said. “And I don’t say it enough, but I love you. It was never about your father.”

“What was it about, then?” Your voice shook and you fought against every basic instinct to draw him in close, to press your chin to his chest and hear his own heart beating for yours.

He shook his head, lips parted but not speaking, as if at a loss for words. You were about to turn away again, when he took another step forward, his hot breath fanning against your cheeks. “That first time you asked me to take you to the ocean. And fuck me, I nearly didn’t say yes.” The faintest of chuckles broke his speech, the rare chuff of his laughter clawing at your aching chest. “But when you caught the wind in your hair it was like you came alive.”

Past the damp of the rain you could smell the sea, could nearly taste the saltwater on your lips when he’d kissed you that day. The last of your worries had melted away in the heat of that kiss, had been swept away by the breeze and carried far offshore. Or so you had thought.

“And you made me feel alive,” he said, his hands cupping your cheeks now. You were paralysed, at his mercy, leaning into his touch and inhaling the scent of horses and gunpowder past the rain. “For the first time since the war.” 

Breaths exchanged, and you tilted your head so that his lips brushed your forehead instead, and you said, “Why don’t you say things like this to me more?”

“I don’t know. But I can. Just come back to me.” His fingers wrapped around the back of your neck as if to trap you. You’d never heard him so desperate. It nearly made you do exactly what he asked.

As if that wasn’t what you yearned for. As if you wouldn’t do anything to forget all of this and go back to that day by the sea, or under the pastel blue sky on the back of a racehorse.

“I want to.” You could hear his heart beating now, thundering like the hooves of one of his horses as you uttered your truths into the dampened fabric of his shirt. “And I want to believe you. But I don’t know if I should.”

“Come back inside,” he breathed against your hair.

“I don’t know if my heart can take this, Thomas.” You tore yourself away, practically shoving him off while avoiding his gaze. “I don’t know if I can go through this again if you’re lying…”

“I’m not lying. Look at me. Look at me.” Firm fingers swept beneath your chin and forced your gaze to his.

“If I make you feel so alive, why do you keep killing me, slowly? Why do I keep watching you drift from me?” As if you were taken by that ocean. Your saltwater lips trembled around your words.

They were questions you’d been burning to ask for a long time now. Questions you’d buried beneath your own lies that you told yourself, like how you’d buried your anguish beneath the sands of the beach only to feel it slam once more against your chest, harder, more forceful than anything you’d known.

You couldn’t take it anymore, not as each second of silence that dragged by killed a piece of you. “You can’t answer. And if I come back to you, it’s going to keep happening.” You spoke past the rising sand in your throat until it came out as a whimper, and you shook your head helplessly, and you realised that it was your tears that you could taste on your tongue, not the ocean. “I’m so torn, Thomas.”

“I’ll flip a coin,” he said, digging into his pocket. “Heads, you trust me. Tails, you walk away.”

Those words might as well have been the last nail in your coffin. They’d sealed your fate, at one time. When he’d asked you to work for him. When you knew the moment the silver caught the wink of light that he would be your undoing no matter what it landed on.

“Not everything can be solved with a coin,” you protested, the bitter taste of betrayal on your tongue.

“Remember, it will tell you what you want. Remember when – “

“I remember, Thomas.” It was all coming crashing down on you just like the rain that pelted your shivering body, and you closed your eyes, your tears achingly warm as they bled across your cheeks.

“Watch.”

“No – “

The coin was a watery vision as it came down in the air, your lashes peeling open and lips parting in terror. Whatever it landed on, it was over. Either he’d kill you slowly or you’d die here, tonight; you’d never be the same. Your fate had always been sealed.

He snapped the coin shut in his hand. You met his eyes, your own fear reflected in their bright blues. And you realised that neither of you wanted to look. And so, tentatively, you asked,

“What is it?”

Slowly, he opened his hand. Slowly, you both looked at the coin. And slowly, the shards of your heart weighed so heavy in your chest that you felt as if you’d collapse to your knees.

But the answer wasn’t what crushed you. It was the realisation that, despite what the coin said, despite knowing what was best for you, you just…

… you couldn’t.  

A.N. I'm leaving the ending ambiguous and it's up to you if the coin landed on heads or tails!

MASTERLIST • REQUEST

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[martiandmichelle]

As is typical with me (as many of you know all too well), I started a story back on June 22 and just left it hanging. I'll draw it to a quick end here. (Here's the June 22 post: https://www.tumblr.com/martiandmichelle/753986784206127104/ill-get-to-this-photo-in-a-second-but-first-i).

The lady - I'll call her Valery - was, ummmm, unique in her sexual desires for me. The term objectification has negative implications, but it was part that. To her, I wasn't me, I was a physical thing, a body mostly, but there were lots of kisses to my face not so much to my lips. She glorified my physical form, in a way, as to be almost worshipful of it, heaping praises upon it. She spoke to me lovingly, like she would a puppy, a kitten, an especially cherished doll. Her touches were light as they gently explored every pore of my skin, never removing my panties or penetrating me. She used all her senses to soak my body into her: her eyes, especially, but also listening to my heavy breathing a slight moans, tasting the sweat beading on my skin, smelling the hints of perfume I wore. My body was a goddess to her.

The two days with Valery flew by. Not until it was over did I become a woman, a person, to her again. She thanked me as an equal, as a soulmate with whom she shared her deepest secrets.

She since moved to the mountains with her husband and I hear she is very happy. Of course, with promises that we will be alone together again soon.

[phoxey]

Is this what you dreamed about?

Professor!Bada x student!reader

CW: SMUT (18+) MDNI... porn without real plot, Dom!Bada, Sub!reader, fingering, choking, age gap, Dirty talk

AN: please enjoy this little treat to celebrate the end of 2023 ;) Happy new year guys and gals and nonbinary pals

From the moment you walked into that class on the first day of Uni, there was only one woman who occupied your mind. Bada Lee, your criminal history professor, a tall and intimidating woman. But she intrigued you, the way she smiled or looked at you sometimes, made your heart flutter. Your friends always teased you, saying that Professor Lee had a thing for you, which was why she always gave you good marks on all of your assignments.

That was until you got an Email one morning.

Dear Y/N, I attached your grade for your latest assignment to this Email. I am disappointed. Come to my office after your last class today. Best regards, B. Lee

Confused you clicked on the attached file, which summarized and explained the points that were given to you this assignment. You audibly gasped when you saw the total points. It was a failing grade! Impossible. You have never failed in one of your classes. Especially not hers.

After your last class, which ended late, you debated whether it was already too late to go to your professor. Also, you were nervous about what she was going to say. Until you stood in front of her office door, you still debated with yourself, but inside you saw light burning. It would be weird if you ran away now, so you dared to softly knock on her door.

“Come in.”

Shyly you walked inside and closed the door behind you. Only her desk light was burning in the otherwise dark room. When she looked up from her computer, she took off her glasses and set them aside. With a wave of her hand, she told you to sit, which you did, putting your jacket and bag down.

“How was your day?”, she asked.

“I was worried and scared because of your E-Mail, Professor Lee.”, you answered honestly.

She nodded. “Then let’s get to it. I must say I was very surprised and disappointed… usually you are better than that. But in the last few weeks…”

“I am a bit distracted…”, you admitted blushing.

“Say, what distracts you?”, she asked, her eyes piercing you.

“You.”, slipped past your lips and immediately your hand covered your mouth. Your ears felt so hot, they might as well be on fire.

Your teacher leaned back in her chair and smirked. “Really?”

“I am so sorry, Professor Lee, I didn’t mean to say that!”, you immediately rambled.

“But you really think that, do you?”, she asked.

“I… Professor Lee… I’m sorry, this was so inappropriate… I shouldn’t have…”

“You are not denying it.”

Your mouth shut and with your red face you looked down in embarrassment. You couldn’t deny what was true. That woman occupied your mind every day… and every night. It was simply not fair for her to be this attractive.

You didn’t even notice that she stood up, until two fingers lifted your chin and guided you to look at her. She met you with an indescribable expression. Dangerously dark eyes but a playful smile on her lips.

“You admit that you are distracted because you can’t stop looking at me?”, she asked.

You wanted to look away again, but she grabbed your chin between her index finger and thumb. The latter almost touching your bottom lip. She was so close; you could even smell her perfume. And lord, her scent was enticing.

“How about you answer this question and I promise to let you rewrite your assignment?”

As if your gaze filled with desire wasn’t enough of an answer. No, Bada Lee wanted to hear your pretty voice admitting that you fantasized about her.

Slowly you nodded. “I can’t stop looking at you.”

“Why?”, she whispered, her eyes falling to your lips, as her thumb pressed onto your bottom lip, making you open your mouth ever so slightly.

“Because… I find you attractive, Professor.”, you breathed out. You were almost in a trance, lost in her eyes and the feeling that stirred within you, the closer her face got.

“When you look at me, what comes to mind?”, she asked softly.

“Professor… I can’t…”

“Answer me.”

You swallowed hard and you could feel your lips tingle, hers were only inches away. “Your lips.”

A shockwave went through your body as you suddenly felt her lips on yours. Your mouth moved on its own and you kissed her almost desperately. A whine left your throat, when the kiss was over faster than you wanted.

“Like that?”, she asked.

Your eyes fluttered open. “I must be dreaming…”

“Oh sweetheart, this is so very real. If you’re good and tell me what your pretty head has been dreaming about, I just might be so kind to make it reality…”, she whispered and put some hair behind your ear.

“More… Your lips… everywhere. Your hands too.”, you admitted shyly.

She pulled you to stand and immediately into her embrace as her mouth crashed onto yours. She even seized the opportunity when you gasped, to slip her tongue past your wet lips, deepening the kiss. Your hands rested on her chest as hers roamed over your hips and back. A moan escaped when she moved south to kiss your neck.

“Have you dreamed about this too?”, she whispered against your skin and you could feel her smirk.

Eagerly you nodded, which caused her to chuckle.

“May I leave my mark?”, she asked gently, as her hands slipped under your shirt.

“I have dreamed about that too…”

As soon as you gave your permission she began working on a rather sensitive spot of your neck. She sucked right over where she could feel your pulse. Teasingly she bit into your skin only to apologize by licking over her mark. Bada leaned back to admire her work, but she was caught off guard by your look. Eyes half closed and unfocused, your lips deep red and kiss swollen. She almost lost her mind then and there when your tongue poked out to catch a drop of spit from falling from your lips.

She cupped your chin again to hold you while she savored a slow but deep kiss. Emboldened by her hungry gaze and your own lust, you took her hand and placed it a little further south, around your throat. She smirked down at you as she helped you sit on her desk. Her hand was just around your neck, she wasn’t applying any pressure at all, no matter how much you hinted that you wanted it.

It was only when she pulled you into another kiss by your throat, you got what you wanted. The pressure making you lightheaded, so that you couldn’t even form a coherent thought anymore. Her other hand ghosted up and down your thigh, sending shivers that went right into your clit, when she was only remotely close to slipping her hand under your skirt. Your hips rolled forward over and over in an unsuccessful attempt of creating friction. She noticed and her evil chuckle was swallowed by the kiss you shared.

“Please…”, you managed to get out.

“Beg for it.”, Bada smirked and bit your lower lip.

“Please… I need you to touch me.”, you really gave your best to get the words out. In response her hand left your throat and cupped your breast. You whined, that was not the touch you had wanted.

“Patience is a virtue, sweetheart.”, she muttered into your ear and kissed your temple, before her other hand came up and her long slender middle finger pushed past your lips. It was almost pathetic how obediently you started sucking on her finger and swirled your tongue around it.

“You dreamed about me being knuckledeep in your pretty cunt, hm?”, she asked then.

Again you eagerly nodded and she pulled her finger out of your mouth. You watched curiously as she pushed your skirt up and your panties to the side. At first her slick finger rubbed your throbbing clit ever so slightly. Bada took a mental note, that prepping her finger with spit wouldn’t have been needed, not when you were dripping wet like that. Her finger slipped into you almost too easily, and you exhaled a soft moan. Bada captured your lips in another kiss.

“So warm, so wet…”, she whispered. “So perfect.”

You moaned. You didn’t even know if it was because of her praise or her finger that was thrusting deep into you. Maybe it was a bit of both.

Your breath hitched when she added another finger, as she decided that you were not moaning enough. She wanted to hear your beautiful voice when you would come undone on her fingers. And it worked perfectly. Your breaths got quicker and your moans louder, just how she wanted it. She grinned self-sufficiently against your neck as she worked on another hickey. Curse words left your lips when she started to curl her two fingers within you and you grasped her shoulders, holding on for dear life, as she toyed with the most sensitive spot that existed within your body.

The tingly sensation in your legs and the knot in your stomach announced the bliss that was approaching slowly. That was until you felt her thumb on your clit, while her other fingers pressed against your G-Spot. An overwhelming orgasm washed through you and a silent scream got stuck in your throat. You clawed into her shoulder and buried your face in her neck, as she helped you ride your high and dragging it out as much as possible until you were pulling away with overstimulation.

Gently she pulled her fingers out and she stepped back to look at her work. You pussy clenching around the phantom feeling of her fingers that still lingered. You sat there, on her desk, panting and your eyes were still delirious. Your skirt was still pushed up and your hair stuck to your face with sweat, while a few tears rolled down your face after the overstimulation.

“Is this what you dreamed about?”, she smirked and put her two fingers into her own mouth.

[auiciqa]

Marriage Counseling With Miguel O'Hara 😵‍💫

Pairing-Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings-not many just soft angst(kinda soft angst 😰) and cheesy

*a/n-this is my first drabble so keep in mind that this is my very first one and pls tell me if I made any mistakes😔💔

Miguel was a...very confusing man.you couldn't help but grow suspicion on the fact that he came home from work really late.I mean could you really blame the man? He's one of the lead geneticists in Alchemax which can honestly can be very stressful considering that he's also Spider-Man.

It wasn't till he got home from work really late with his hair all over the place,his blouse being smothered in wine red lipstick and the smell of cheap perfume from TJ-Maxx or Ross or something.Your mind knew exactly why he came home as such late hours.You weren't surprised at all,when you payed your credit card bills you could see purchases made at Tiffany's and co,Pandora,Sephora,Dior, Cartier,etc.. When the most he had gotten you was a full charm bracelet from James Avery?

You didn't have the words to confess to him so you just kept it to yourself.It even scared you that your own 5 year old daughter understood why you and her father were so distant.

The day you confessed to him he was mad.. like really mad. Mad to the point where could just slap you across the face right then and there. "Hija de ty puta Madre I knew I should've told you this sooner or later!"."Well you didn't,instead you went and fucked your sorrows into a 20 year olds pussy!". You felt your throat tighten like there was a piece of barbed wire wrapped around it,hell even your words came out almost broken."Well at least it was better than yours!"."Miguel.. don't you remember you said that you would love me forever? You aren't the man I feel in love with 10 years ago."."Well maybe I broke that promise alright why can't you just shut the fuck up already!".You cried into your pillow that night while Miguel left, probably to go to the other woman but you couldn't stop thinking about the promise he made to you,he said he'll love you forever,right? Right.....?

As soon as Miguel came home from work you had told him that marriage Counseling was going to be the best option the fix your marriage."Why can't we just get a divorce you stupid bitch it won't even work out!" He yelled but you just kept a straight face."Well I just don't want Gabby to grow up switching houses every week,the girl isn't even 12 and she already understands why we've been so distant it even scares me on how much she understands what we have..!". You both loved Gabby very much but Miguel couldn't help but think about his own daughter,how could have he forgotten about how his own daughter would feel if her parents separated her opinion matters too."Only for Gabby's sake.".Took awhile for him to agree his face said otherwise,he looked like he was defeated meanwhile you were scheduling an appointment with the counselor.

"Good morning Mr and Mrs O'Hara what seems to be the issue here?". It was that question that both of you guys wanted to avoid answering,yet again you felt that same feeling of ur throat feeling tight."Um..well this son of a bitch just cheated on me yet he promised he will love me forever and I just think that promises should last forever don't you think Mr.Anderton? Miguel couldn't help but roll his eyes at what you just said but felt a sense of relief because he wasn't the one to answer that question."Well that seems to be the case for most couples,but let's just start off on things that we can change and things we can't, starting off strong Mr O'Hara what is something you would like for your wife to change?"There was a long pregnant pause, because Miguel was distant from you he didn't notice anything that bothered him or that could change so he just had to make something up."Uh..she's always complaining on how I get home late.?"Did this bitch really just lie? Y'all are here to repair your relationship for the sake of y'all's daughter and he just sits there and lies?"Not true!" You yelled, Miguel couldn't help but argue back and so did you,this went on for about 30 seconds till Mr anderton stopped you guys."Ok that question might be something you both don't want to answer, I fear that y'all are here to repair you're marriage not fight." you turned to look at Miguel as he does the same and y'all both look back at the counselor."Let's just go with something easier,Um Mrs O'Hara have you ever thanked your husband for having a roof over your heads and to have food on the table every day?" Miguel could feel himself smirk and so did you feel it you were just left speechless,"Uh.. no.." "Ok now Mr O'Hara have you also thanked your wife for cooking,cleaning, washing laundry and for taking care of your child." Right back at you bitch, you couldn't help but giggle a bit as Miguel frowns at the question."no."

The session went on for another hour or two untill "I can't help but say that you both need some serious help.."You and Miguel both looked at each other knowing that this won't work out.

Okkk guyssss hope y'all liked this I think I could do some improvements but overall I think this came out good!

[slafkovskys]

jack x oldestnorris!sibling is too good. he would have to try so hard to win her over

oh, jack hughes is late.

he is so late and she isn’t answering any of the calls he’s screaming at his car to dial. they go straight to voicemail. his pleading texts he had sent before flying out of the practice facility also remain unanswered. he had the brief, fleeting thought to call dalton (her undisputed favorite brother, her baby much to his dismay) but that quickly passed.

why?

because dalton would call josh who would then find jack and end his career prematurely before he even had a chance at a decent playoff run. so no, he would handle this one himself.

oh, how could he be so stupid?

he’s flying down the michigan streets in the direction of the norris family home like a mad man. he curses laws as he tries to stick them because they don’t understand that he finally got a date with the woman he’s been crushing on since he laid eyes on her when josh’s family came to watch their brothers’ first ntdp game eight years ago.

and he’s fucking late.

the sight of the norris’ driveway is a relief and he’s sure that if it were loose gravel, he would have flung half of it based off the speed he was turning in. he catches sight of her, well the back of her, walking up the stairs and she has a hand on the front door when he opens his door and shouts, “y/n, wait! please!”

she looks at him, a look of annoyance and obvious hurt present across her features. she’s dressed up while jack is still donning the same clothes he had worn to train in, not even bothering with the suit he had brought that was hanging in his back seat neatly pressed by his mother for the occasion. his shoulders fall, “please let me explain. i know that i’m late-”

she scoffs, “only by about two hours.”

“i know, but if you would just hear me out,” he’s pleading with her. she stares at him for a moment before leaning against one of the beams on the porch, arms crossed over chest. a breeze sweeps over the two of them, carrying the smell of her perfume to jack. this one’s different then the one she usually wears, the one he had grown to love, to crave. this one was better even and after a whiff, he straightens up and clears his throat, ready to plead his case, “we finished training earlier than we were supposed to and everybody knew about tonight, i swear. they knew how important it was- is to me and that i couldn’t be late.

“one of the trainers for the younger guys asked if we could stay behind a few extra minutes and talk to them. quinn was down and they said it would only take a few minutes and because we finished early, i stayed. i didn’t know they would want us to do some exercises with them, or else i would’ve left. i swear i tried to get out of there every chance i could, but they kept stopping me.

“i know that we’ve already missed our reservation, but if you give me another chance, i can make a mean chicken parm. quinn’s not going to be home tonight and we would have to stop by the store first to get some things because i have nothing to make chicken parm, but i promise you that i can make it worth your while and then some,” he watches her expression the entire time, trying to gauge her reaction to his very true rendition of events. he’s confused when her lips curl up into a smirk.

“quinn called earlier and vouched for you. even got the trainer that held you back on the phone in case i didn’t believe him,” she says as she adjusts her bag on her shoulder. jack’s face falls and she grins, “called the house phone and everything begging me not to cancel on you. said you’ve been talking about this all week?”

jack nods quickly because it was the truth. he’d barely shut up about his plans since she’d agreed to them, “that’s right.”

“well, hughes, i would hate for you to go home to an empty house and no food,” she as she pushes away from the beam, making her way down the steps towards him, “but i do have one condition.”

“anything,” the ball was in her court and he was about two seconds from dropping to his knees and begging right in the middle of the subdivision. if that’s what she wanted, jack thought, he would do it.

“you have to take a shower when we get to your house because not even your cuteness can excuse the smell of sweat coming off of you right now,” she raises an eyebrow, “do we have a deal?”

“let’s shake on it, norris,” his hand shoots out and hers meets in the middle. he takes note of her manicure and grins, so she did pick the color he chose. “after you, m’lady.”

he leads her to the car with a light hand on her back and as soon as he shuts her door, there is the sound of someone clearing their throat rather loudly. jack turns his head towards the garage, which is now open and standing in the middle with a hockey stick in hand, looking as menacing as jack had ever seen him, was dwayne norris.

he doesn’t say a word. he doesn’t need to, the look he gives jack was enough to convey everything that her brothers already had. jack nods his head quickly, “yes sir, i understand.”

dwayne gives him a curt nod before shooting a puck into the practice net and jack scrambles to the driver’s side, eager to get away and finally start the night he had been waiting almost a decade for.

part two coming soon!

[somber-sapphic]

Doctor vs. Lawyer

〘Prompt 9- White Coat Syndrome〙

〘Notes- This doesn't exactly fit the prompt, but I think it's close enough. ALSO. I'm going to throw in a TW for anxiety, I projected a bit in this one. Aaannndd I made Reader a lawyer because it was the most stressful job I could think of.〙

〘Summary- Your wife being a doctor doesn't make you fear them any less.〙

〘Word Count- 700〙

〘Pairing- Carina DeLuca x Sick Reader〙

〚Main Masterlist〛⌶〚Sicktember Masterlist〛

You sat on the edge of the cot in the ER, your knee bouncing rhythmically against the cold tile floor. You didn’t want to be here, in fact, the hospital was the last place you wanted to be. You didn’t even enjoy coming here to bring your wife lunch, let alone when you were actually ill.  

It wasn’t that you disliked Carina’s coworkers, in fact, you got along with them all very well. But that was outside of the hospital. Here, you were something to be poked and prodded at and studied. You were helpless, out of your element. You weren’t in control.

A painful cough ripped through your chest, and you ducked your face into your shirt, doing your absolute best to suppress and quiet the fit. That cough was the reason you were here. You’d been talking to Carina on the phone (she hadn’t been home in days), and the young doctor had ordered you to come in.

“Car, I want to go home. I’ll be fine at home, please.” You whispered, turning pleading eyes on the OB/GYN who was staring at the floor.

“No, bambina, you need to be here. I can only do so much at home. I cannot help if you need antibiotics.” She explained firmly, rubbing her knee with a free hand while texting with the other. A quick glance over her shoulder showed you that she was texting Amelia, presumably in relation to your nonexistent treatment.

“I want to go home.” You said again, coughing into your shoulder. The cold you had woken up with a week ago hadn’t gone away, instead it had gotten 10x worse. Carina had been doing her best to monitor your symptoms but, in the end, she couldn’t legally treat you.

“I know. If you had done a better job at taking care of yourself maybe, we wouldn’t be here.” The brunette snapped, glaring at you. She loved you, she did, but she had also been working nonstop for weeks, barely leaving the hospital. She hadn’t been home to sleep or have a proper meal for eight days. The last place either one of you wanted to be was Grey Sloan.

“I-I’m sorry.” You whispered, tears filling your eyes. More than you hated being here, you hated making the woman you loved angry. You knew that you should’ve taken better care of yourself, but you’d gotten distracted. It was hard being a lawyer, you often worked just as many hours as Carina.

The physician sighed and ran her fingers through her silky hair, tossing the long locks over one shoulder. She turned to face you and smiled a little, shaking her head.

“No, I’m sorry. It is not your fault that you got sick, I apologize for biting.” Now it was your turn to smile. Her little slip ups in English were always adorable.

“Snapping babe, not biting.” You corrected, putting your head on her shoulder. The mix of exhaustion from your illness and the nonstop bouncing of your leg was getting to you. Another wet cough tore through your body, followed by a sound you didn’t know that you could make. Now you felt anxious, sick, and pathetic.

“Oh, amore. I know you’re nervous, but I promise it will all be okay. We will make sure it’s someone you feel comfortable with, yeah? No one gets to touch you unless you’re okay with it. And as soon as it’s done, we will get you back home and into a warm bath, then bed.” She said, placing a featherlight kiss to your sweaty hairline.

You couldn’t fathom why on Earth she’d want to be kissing you right now, but there was no way that you’d be complaining. You leaned into her side, resting your head in the crook of her neck.

If your nose hadn’t been so stuffy you probably could’ve smelled her calming vanilla scent, the perfume always a comfort. You sprayed it all over the sweatshirt that was saved specifically for when she was gone.

“There she is, see, just Amelia. We like Amelia, no?” Carina said with a smile, running her thumb across your cheekbone. You nodded, still apprehensive. The neurosurgeon was great, you loved her as a friend, but still. Doctors.

“It will be fast my love. I promise.” Your girlfriend soothed, kissing your earlobe. It was a strange place for a kiss, but you weren’t about to object to a little extra comfort. With a final deep breath -and subsequent coughing fit- you steeled yourself, ready for whatever Amelia would throw at you. As long as Carina was there, you could do anything.

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[possum-quesadilla]

The last chapter of Time is a Flat Circle is up! So sorry in advance. (No I’m not.) Be sure to read the trigger warnings and tread carefully! This one is a doozy!

Here are the details for this specific chapter! Time is a Flat Circle as a whole will have a “post mortem” itself before Part 2 comes out. If you have any questions you’d like answered, send them my way!

- The lyrics from this chapter’s title is from “This Woman’s Work” by Kate Bush! Heavily inspired by a scene using a song in “Our Flag Means Death”, I listened to this song endlessly while writing this chapter. I believe it fits it so well for obvious reasons.

- “His senses weren’t overly reactive, recently. It was easier to spend more time outside, or among the humans’ excited chatter. It was nice. It made them feel… not peace, but a lack of unease.” - he is experiencing overstimulation less and less due to the humans helping him have access to accommodations!

- “(where the hell even was “Miskatonic University”?)” - This is a reference to H.P. Lovecraft’s work, since it inspired Beetlejuice’s last name, but also more to the movie “Re-Animator”! It kicks a lot of ass if you can stomach it. Check the trigger warnings before watching. Highly regarded in the trans autistic community.

- Beej’s favorite pizza toppings being pepperoni and mushrooms is a reference to That Beautiful Sound!

- “one of the “fidgets” she was particularly fond of; a singular key of a keyboard.” - This is based on my favorite fidget!

- “Can you even blush?” - He can!

- “ the gaudy floral wallpaper.” … “the tackily patterned yellow wallpaper. (How repellent. How dull.)” - The appearance of the wallpaper and the way Beetlejuice describes it is taken straight from one of my absolute favorite horror short stories, “The Yellow Wallpaper” by Charlotte Perkins Gilman!

- “I promised I’d get you all out of this, and ‘m a… thing of my word.” - Taken straight from my own vernacular. I’m not a man or a woman of my word, so I say “thing” as a joke!

- “Hot damn!” - this is a reference to one of my favorite “Brooklyn-99” cold opens.

- The TV show Barbara and Lydia start while the boys are busy with the model is “The Fall of the House of Usher”, which is one of my absolute favorite shows ever. It is an amalgamation of Edgar Allen Poe’s stories! Lydia would go nuts, I think.

- As Adam states, Beetlejuice has very sensitive eyes! They’re built for darkness, so they don’t know how to handle an abundance of light properly. Also, the sensory nightmare of ‘sun in your eyes’ sucks.

- “Gardening with Barbara was like a short dream conjured up from a summer afternoon nap.” - Although altered, this comparison is taken straight from my absolute favorite story Stephen King has ever written: “Laurie”. It is phenomenal. Highly recommend you listen to MrCreepyPasta’s reading of it.

- The soup Beetlejuice helped make was loaded potato soup! One of my favorites.

- “It should be a comfort, shouldn’t it? No one else got a chance like this, to have the precious moments mapped out, to have their time left set in stone.” - This is taken straight from my own thoughts. As someone with many chronic illnesses and a projected shortened lifespan, this is something I often tell myself.

- “after he’d wrapped her up in blankets and tossed her onto her bed.” - Fun sibling activities! My older brother used to love to wrap me up tightly and toss me across the room onto my bed. I also loved it.

- “I don’t keep anything strong on me after Adam freaked out about my flask.” - My version of Adam has trauma related to alcoholism/substance abuse. Beej took his concerns seriously and stashed away most of his ’goods’.

- “ “There is no… other side for me.” He gently squeezed her hand. “This is it.” ” - This is, of course, one of the hardest lines ever written, from “BoJack Horseman”. Made me bawl my eyes out when I first heard it, and I bawled again writing it into my fic.

- The various smells!

- Black tea and perfume - this has already been addressed! Beetlejuice mentioned how Barbara smells like iced tea and perfume a few times before.

- Isopropyl alcohol and tung oil - aftershave and woodworking materials!

- Vinegar-y chemicals and formaldehyde - Lydia has traces of photo-treatment chemicals on her. And she likes taxidermy things.

- Beetlejuice’s reaction to being called sweet is a direct mirror of my own. I have no idea how to respond to being called kind and such and act all grumpy.

- On the “diagnosed” conversation - everyone but Beetlejuice knows that that’s about. Lydia has been diagnosed with a few things as well! Perhaps we will get into it in Part 2?

- “The evening passed at the speed of a dream. Dinner, dishes, laughter. Pajamas, blankets, rounds of Clue and tossed game pieces.” - This is meant to parody General Gibson’s speech in “Asteroid City”. Specifically when he says, “twenty years passed at the speed of a dream. A wife, a son, a daughter, a poodle.” This movie literally altered my brain chemistry, no hyperbole. It will be referenced again.

- “Eric is returning to his grave.” - This is meant to be foreshadowing for Beej’s plan!

- “Lydia suggested they watch “The Exorcist”. Despite the Maitlands being terrified of the film, they stuck around to watch it. But the humans did not make it to the ending. They fell asleep huddled together, all pressed up against the demon’s sides. “God damn you, take me!” It wasn’t so funny this time around.” - This has a few layers; it’s referring to how movie Beetlejuice has seen “The Exorcist” 167 times, and says it gets funnier every time. The scene that is being quoted is when the priest character, Karras, tells the demon to take him instead of the girl it’s possessing. He then jumps out the window to kill the demon along with himself. For obvious reasons, this is not quite as funny to Beej anymore. (And, I mean, it’s about an exorcism. And he is dreading an upcoming exorcism. Not fun!)

- “How exquisitely stupid. How perfectly splendid.” - These are both references to two of my favorite pieces of horror media. The first is from “Nope”, the second is from “The Haunting of Bly Manor”.

- “They tried, desperately, to hold it all within their grasp, to savor it, to hold it close. But it’s hopeless. The last day with their BFFF passes like sand through his fingers.” - This is meant to be a reference to “So Long” by Tokyo Elvis, which was the song for one of the previous chapters!

- “7pm arrives like a thief in the night, sure and swift and inevitable.” - the phrase “like a thief in the night” is from “The Masque of Red Death” by Edgar Allen Poe. Lydia’s love of the poet is rubbing off on him!

- “He empties out their belongings from his hammer space and leaves them in tidy piles in the basement.” - this is a reference to a line from Mitski’s “The Last Words of a Shooting Star”, which was almost the song for this chapter. The lyrics it references are “And I am relieved that I'd left my room tidy, They'll think of me kindly, When they come for my things”

- The scene where Lydia calls Beetlejuice “BugBeverage” is meant to parallel the goodbye hug they exchanged at the end of the musical, just somewhat reversed!

- “Of all the billions of breathers that coulda seen me and said my name, I’m so glad it was you.” - this is meant to be a homage to a very impactful scene in “Fantastic Mr. Fox”. Shout out to all my fellow autistics that this movie made cry.

- “W-Wiggog Y-” - This is a cheeky reference to Wiggly from the Hatchetfield Universe! I have my own Tickle-Me-Wiggly!

- “I bid you, full foul in your fury, to smother this profane blight with your icy cull,” - This is a rephrasing of one of the best monologues ever from the best movie of all time, “The Lighthouse”. (I have seen it 103 times. I am not joking.) The original lines were, “rise from the depths full foul in his fury!” And “smother this young mouth with pungent slime”

- “His feet shifted, teeter-toter- Deep breath, it’s time.” - Taken from “The View from Halfway Down”, a poem read on “BoJack Horseman” from the same episode as the other quote in this chapter. It is a haunting, distressing poem from the perspective of someone who has jumped off a bridge to commit suicide, but regrets it halfway down. I thought it was extremely thematically relevant here.

- “Morning Frost.” - Morning Frost is a creation of my own. It’s a play on the ‘Morningstar’, or Lucifer, the original demon. The original head honcho of the Netherworld. Not much is known about them by Beej, so we are too for now! The only way to kill a creature born of hellfire is to freeze out that fire.

- “Heart. Lungs. Liver. Nerves.” - This is taken from a similar scene in “Slay The Princess”, one of my favorite games ever!! A horrific timeloop, a twisted romance. I won’t spoil anything, but the character saying this is doing so to keep his body from shutting down, like Beetlejuice. I say this to myself over and over again sometimes when I’m having a panic attack and it’s helped!

- “They hope it’ll lull them safely into a gentle goodnight.” - this is a reference to a famous poem, “Do not go gentle into that good night” by Dylan Thomas.

- The feeling of warmth returning is a bad thing, which is why Adam freaks out more when he notices! One of the last stages of hypothermia is feeling incredibly warm and stopping shaking. There’s also disorientation and confusion, hence why Beej can’t talk or think quite straight after this point.

- A fun little lesson on treating hypothermia from the Deetz-Maitlands! Warm the neck and core with blankets, get heated blankets if possible, and give them warm, sweet beverages. Starting to shake again is a great sign.

- “… he couldn’t let them see him as he was) and stepped forward to greet the pair, shaking on his humanoid illusions and Ghost with the Most persona.” - Beeltejuice is afraid that he can’t take anything back now. He wants to make a good impression on Charles and Delia. Sucks to suck, buddy!

If you’ve made it this far, wow… thank you! This monster of a fic wouldn’t be possible without the serotonin boost every like, comment, and FANART (still can’t believe that one) sent my way. Thank you so much. Can’t wait for Part 2! I will add hints and teasers for what’s to come in the Post Mortem. I’m going to keep working on my crochet sandworm now.

[alexanderlightweight]

Happy Wednesday!

What about trophy husband/sugar baby alec for a prompt? (I know it's not too far off what you just posted, so I hope it's different enough to interest you)

Have a good one

Hey! Thanks I did in fact have a good day! And lots of fun prompts like this one: I hope you enjoy it!

—

Alec frowns as he contemplates the pendant, though he doesn’t bother looking at the price. Magnus has plenty of mundane currency and Alec has a great deal of the Lightwood fortune and his own money.

“Oh, something catch your eye?” Magnus asks him and Alec nods without really thinking about it. “That one.” Alec says because Magnus is being very sweet and patient but Alec also knows Magnus gets antsy if they don’t find at least one thing Alec likes in each store.

It’s like Magnus doesn’t understand that Alec derives pleasure from seeing Magnus enjoy himself; not actually shopping himself.

But it’s not Alec’s job to judge Magnus, it’s his honor and pleasure to support Magnus and show him that Alec loves him, everything else is just a bonus.

A bonus that also involves a lot of mundanes.

Unfortunately.

“Sir, this pendant is five thousand dollars in its current form and you want to… rework it?” Alec sighs and is about to give up when an arm wraps around his waist and a chin hooks over his shoulder.

“Mr. Bane!” She gasps out and gives Alec a confused look, “and this is your—?” She trails off leadingly and is clearly surprised, though Alec doesn’t get why when she recognizes Magnus.

“Just his.” Alec says because he can’t deal with the exhaustion of mundanes knowing him. There’s a dark chuckle against his ear and Alec doesn’t get why the woman is suddenly stuttering and blushing and grabbing the pendant and going to the back.

“Is this yet another necklace you’re going to slip into my jewelry despite knowing I can tell each time?” Magnus rumbles against his back and Alec leans back, trying to chase away his pending headache with his boyfriend’s presence.

“No.” Alec mutters because his head feels tighter the longer they stand there, in a room that smells too strongly of perfume and the stench of prey.

He turns and wraps his arms around Magnus, burrowing into Magnus’ neck to hide from the migraine burrowing into his skulls

“My poor darling,” Magnus soothes and he presses cool, magical kisses to Alec’s jaw. “I’ll get you home soon, alright?”

“Lunch—“ Alec mutters because they canceled yesterday due to a sewer rift and he wants to sit with Magnus in a country far from the one they’re in.

“Alexander, I’m not sure—“

“It was a promise, Magnus.” Alec reminds him, because it was a promise and Alec couldn’t keep it but Magnus is too generous sometimes. “We’re going to Italy. Tonight. Or I’ll call Cat for a lift and go without you.” It’s an empty threat because Alec is going nowhere without Magnus, but it does the job because Magnus laughs and kisses his forehead again.

“Alright, my Alexander. I’ll take you to Italy tonight.” Magnus says and Alec nods against his chest, because good.

Magnus is much better at keeping promises. So Alec is sure they’ll get there. And Magnus has been craving that one shop’s ossobuco and bread.

“But if you make me eat pasta while I’m this tired and then judge my noodle skills I’m sleeping on the couch.”

“Isn’t that just self-punishment?”

“You always end up carrying me into bed once I’m asleep anyways Magnus, does it really matter?”

“Oh my god.” Alec hears and he ignores it because it’s not a demon it’s a mundane and the deal is that Magnus gets the… honor of dealing with them.

“Wrap it for me.” Magnus says in a politely cool tone. There’s no danger but Alec can tell he doesn’t like something but then Magnus adds, “what was it for darling?”

And Alec murmurs, “it matches your eyes. I’m going to take it to that little stall in the Brooklyn shadow market, the one that does commissions. I need something that reminds me of you to deal with clave meetings, Magnus. And they won’t let me bring you.”

And Magnus snorts and says, not to Alec, “the bracelets on that rack as well, and the order I put in a month ago, if you please. And then we’ll be leaving.”

—

Alec doesn’t think anything of it. Magnus kisses his headache away and hand feeds him food in a private courtyard so that there’s no need for Alec to fail at eating this tired.

They go back nearly a month later and there’s more employees, a lot of customers and a complete and utter silence when Magnus walks in, his hand on the small of Alec’s back.

And then they converge like a school of uneducated piranhas.

“Oh for—“ and Alec ducks away from Magnus’ hand and goes over to the champagne counter and takes a whole tray.

The server starts to say something and Alec looks between the server and Magnus, and then snorts when the server just nods.

Alec drains three of them and takes the last two over, one in each hand. He passes one to Magnus and gives his best, politically bland and false smile that he can.

The one he used on Lorenzo.

“Babe—“ Alec says, letting his hand linger like he’s refusing to give the drink until Magnus leans forward and kisses him.

And Magnus magicks the drink into something more potent under the protection of their joined hands.

“Thank you my love.” Magnus says and that causes a bunch of gasps and titters and Alec nods and leaves again.

Except this time he’s being followed by several young men — Magnus calls them twinks — and some girls who look even more delicate than Simon when Alec first met him.

“Can I help you?” He asks from where he’s looking at an amber ring that looks like the color of Magnus’ unglamoured eyes when he’s angry.

“Spill!”

“What’s it like? How did you bag him?”

And Alec frowns because he is not going to spill anything and he did not bag Magnus. That would require Magnus needing a body bag and Alec is going to die before he lets that happen.

“What?” Alec asks, hoping to somehow interpret what’s being said.

“Where did you meet?” One asks and she’s staring at Alec like Magnus sometimes stares at steak when he’s running low on magic.

“His club.” Alec says; because that’s true enough and Pandemonium has a mundane section.

And Alec is really unsure how much he can tell mundanes. This isn’t supposed to be his problem.

“My brother‘s girlfriend had a problem and they both kind of lost their common sense? And Magnus had part of the solution and was part of the problem, so it sort of just—“ and Alec waves a hand, “worked out.”

He’s given several wide-eyed looks and he doesn’t get one dude’s murmur of, “oh my god.”

It’s like they’ve had a realization.

Alec had no idea what they think they’ve understood.

“I’m going to go look at—“ and he squints across the room, “garnets. Nice to meet you.” He gets the last lie out of his mouth and hurries to the garnets.

Magnus has been expressing his enjoyment for Alec wearing jewelry and Alec aims to please… and avoid mundanes.

—

“How did he read that from here?” Isley asks, her eyes lingering on the tall, delectable man walking away on long, long legs.

“No idea.” And Jamie is also looking at Magnus’ Bane’s sugar baby wistfully. “Is it bad if I don’t know if I want to be him or fuck him?”

“Oh mood—“ Isley says even though she’s perfectly happy as a lesbian. “It’s the Magnus Bane effect, though normally his flavor-of-the-month isn’t so… permanent. Or doted on.”

“So what, you think his family got mixed into something shady? They made a deal with Bane for a better ending and Bane decided to go with the brother when they couldn't pay up?”

“I don’t know, Bane doesn’t seem quite the type. But what do I actually know about the guy?” Jamie huffs sulkily, “I wonder if Bane and his boy do threesome.”

There is a shattering of glass and they look over, paling to see Bane there.

Far closer than he used to be and inconveniently in ear range.

There is a cold, dark look on his face as he accepts the silk cloth hastily taken from a display by an attendee and casually wipes the glass from his hands.

Litter crystal shards are pulverized about him on the floor, and there isn’t a scratch on him.

“We do not.” Bane is saying and his voice is the temptation of molting coals. Danger is there and you know it but you want to lean closer and touch. “No one touches my boy, as you called him. Because he is mine.” And as Bane’s sugar baby comes over with a scowl and a stack of boxes they all see how the deadly rage swirls into an inferno of dangerous adoration. “And I am his.”

And they watch as Bane’s boy kisses Bane’s check, his scowl softening until he sees them and then he rolls his big hazel eyes and mutters something.

“Yes I agree.” Bane is saying, “I think we have rather overstayed. Lunch in Paris, darling? Or perhaps dinner by the time we get there?”

And Isley wonders what she has to do in life to get someone like Magnus Bane.

“We went to Paris last week—“ Bane is told, like it’s normal to say no to sporadic global trips, “I’d rather go back to Hokkaido. I didn’t get to see pikas last time, Magnus. I was promised pikas.”

“Then pikas you shall have,” Bane says like denying Paris to go look at whatever a pika makes sense. Perhaps we’ll stop by Germany first, I think you’d like their brats.” And then under his breath they all hear Magnus add, “and if not we’ll just go to Sweden instead.”

Isley gives up and abandons Jamie and the others and goes and face plants in the lovely, cushioning embrace of her partner's chest.

“It’s not fair.” She wails, voice thankfully muffled, “I don’t even like men!” And her hair is being petted as the woman comforting her laughs.

[loverboy-cc]

Chores

Kinktober day no. 6

Her smile widens, the anxiety crawls from your diaphragm up into your throat.

Pairing: Yae Miko/cis fem sub reader

CWs: Manipulation, dubcon bc of coercion, power imbalance, a sprinkle of gas lighting

AN: Reader is explicitly referred to as a girl, and I reference afab anatomy more than once. Also I did some looking into what irl shrine maidens do and it’s a lot of menial stuff like cleaning and running any shops in the shrine.

Kinktober Masterlist

Yae Miko is a fascinating woman; understatement of the century I know but still.

So it was both horrifying and incredibly interesting when she started personally overseeing your day to day activities as a shrine maiden

Most of what you did was keep the place tidy, not that you were any good at it. At least that’s the conclusion you’d came to with how often Yae would come “teach you to do the chores correctly.”

Said teaching often involved her very, very close to you. The ends of her soft hair tickling your face and the light, airy smell of her perfume filling your senses.

“You summoned me, Guuji Yae.”

“Yes, thank you for your swift arrival.”

Yae sat perched on a bench within a secluded part of the shrine. Passively toying with the gohei she often carried with her as she looked at you, disappointment written on her face as she sighed and stood.

“Join me on a walk, we have… Much to discuss.”

You nod and follow behind her. It was strange in a way, she kept a respectful distance between you both as you left the shrine and made your way down the mountain. Her behavior was in no way strange, but after the close proximity of your lessons with her and the easy smile she had worn during them; her distant smile and the newfound distance stirred an anxiety deep in your chest.

The walk down the mountain felt agonizingly long. But when you did eventually reach the north alcove yae was the first to speak.

“I’m sure you’re aware of why we’re here, no?”

You blinked owlishly at her, besides making sure the little cave was tidy you’d rarely been down here. She appears shocked at your lack of knowledge, and the anxiety digs it’s roots deeper into your diaphragm.

“I see… It's because of your inability to correctly see your tasks done without my assistance. I’d be more understanding if you would accept the help from other shrine maidens. I understand that some people tire quickly. But the others I’ve asked to help you say you’re unwilling to help with your tasks.”

She sighs as you wrack your brain trying to remember ever neglecting your tasks.

“If this behavior keeps up… I can’t promise you can continue working at the shrine.”

You feel tears well up in your eyes, someone had to be lying about you to her! You can’t remember ever deliberately neglecting your duties.

Yae smiles sadly at your little outburst.

“I wish I could agree but there has been enough other shrine maidens speaking against you I can’t defend you anymore…”

You pick up on the “but,” that she doesn’t say. And jump at the opportunity to try and fix this whole situation.

“Guuji Yae there needs to be something I can do to fix this. I promise I’m not deliberately neglecting my tasks.”

She stills and looks you over, something flashes behind her eyes and despite everything you know about the woman, a chill squirms down your spine. She looks away and you release a breath you didn’t know you had been holding.

“I can technically vouch for you. With my word there’s little anyone could do to touch you.”

She looks to you with a coy smile, the discomfort returns with a vengeance, you get the sense you’re not going to enjoy whatever she has you do… but you value your job, and you enjoy the shrine despite how little you seem to do for it.

“What do I need to do? I’m.. open to just about anything.”

Her smile widens, the anxiety crawls from your diaphragm up into your throat. She steps closer and you physically resist the urge to step back.

“Seeing as you prefer my company, I’d like you to assist me personally. I’ll see your usual tasks get completed in exchange.”

That’s… so much less than you’d expected? You nod enthusiastically and she steps closer yet, looking down at you through her fluffy hair.

“I’m glad. Meet me here this evening after the maidens stop selling fortunes and I’ll start training you.” Her smile doesn’t falter as she leaves you in the damp cave.

Yae is already there when you arrive. But she is missing the top most layer of her typical outfit. Leaving very little covered.

The anxiety that had finally settled returns tenfold as you try not to let your mind wander about the true reason Yae summoned you here. It’s obviously just her casual wear, why are you being weird about it?

It was not in fact just her casual wear, and somehow Yae went even further than your brain had hoped guessed she would

Forcing you to bury your face between her smooth, plush thighs and eat her out until she decided she was done. Long after your knees had gotten sore from the uneven rock below you.

Yae pulls you away from her by your hair. She looks at you with the same sly smile she did when she cornered you with this idea, the only thing pointing to her having enjoyed you at all is the blush on her cheeks and the ever so slight glossiness in her eyes.

“Good girl, stand.”

You scramble to your feet, trying to fix your own very disheveled outfit as she talks.

“You’re lucky you’re amusing. I want you here at the same time every night. I don’t recommend disappointing me, little one. We both know what’s on the line here.”

© pvbbyboy •• 2023 •• Please do not translate/repost. reblogs are appreciated and requests are open!

Part of the @enchantedforest-network

~~

Taglist: @yarnnerdally • @starrry-angel • @yeonpm

Wanna be added? Send me an ask off anon and lmk if you want to be on the sfw only list!

[ozimagines]

(Got a request involving him so I figured I’d post this first just to lay the groundwork for what I think of him.)

Dating Nikolai Stanislavsky would include…

Want a man who’s Russian, from Russia, and was born in Russia? Have I got the man for you lol

Dude strikes up a conversation with you on the street. He thinks he’s more suave than he is.

Prides himself on being a gentleman. He offers you his seat on the bus.

“So, what is nice girl/guy/person such as yourself doing in a place like this?”

You can’t help but smile at the cliche. You tell him you’re just going to get groceries. He asks if he can come along, showing you his bag as well.

You go shopping, and he compares them to the shops in Russia, missing his home a little but also excited that he can get green apples year round at Walmart.

He’s charming, letting you enter anywhere first and holding the door for you. Making sure he walks in front of you to clear the aisle. Reaching things on shelves you can’t.

He’s old fashioned.

You thank him for everything, and he asks for your humber.

“Might need someone to show me around the city.”😘

He texts you “good morning” and “goodnight” every single day.

You flirt at first. He’s cute in a gentlemanly way.

You don’t start getting serious until he takes you out one day, and give you diamond jewelry that he can’t tell you where he got it from.

You start to understand why he’s so sparse in his details of his background.

When he feels he can trust you, he mentions that you may not want to mention his name to any police. You take the hint but are understandably a little freaked.

He promises you that he’s not there for violence, and you take him at his word.

He takes you in classy dates; bookstores where you get coffee and read, sushi bars where he surprises you with his knowledge of world cuisine, and art galleries that he gets early access to.

You decide to surprise him for a change. You find out there’s a famous Russian pianist in town doing a small concert.

You take him, not telling him what you’re taking him to.

First song is Romance by Dvorak. There’s a violinist there too, and the piano and violin almost seem like they’re talking to each other. Like the romance is between them.

His eyes are closed for the first song, he’s transported back to his home in Russia, when shit wasn’t going sideways, practicing the piano for his mother. 🥰

He grasps at your hands, holding them for the duration of the concert.

He thanks you profusely afterwards, holding your hands, face in your neck, kissing it softly.

He takes you back to his to make love that night.

Stanislavsky doesn’t fuck very often; he makes love.

Candles and soft music and silk sheets.

He kisses all over your body, lips touching every sensitive point, thrusting firmly but gently into you. 🥲

You cohabitate pretty quickly. I think Stanislavsky is pretty domestic.

He can cook like a BEAST.

Memorizes different recipes around the world.

His draniki (дранікі) are seriously orgasmic tho.

His kartoshka (Картошка) are also quite delicious but it’s literally impossible to fuck up anything chocolate.

Reads the paper every morning even though phones exist.

Not big into social media. Like really really on the outs.

When you send him videos you have to text him a link. 😂

Often wears jeans in casual mode. American jeans. Feel way different than the knock offs he’s used to. (Based on my non-American exs’ opinions)

Recreates that photo with you of the solider coming home and kissing that woman in the streets ⬇️

Exceedingly and disgustingly romantic

Like very Eastern European views of love and traditions

Insists on holding the door for you. Will genuinely be butthurt if you don’t let him.

His favorite place to kiss is right behind your ear. It’s intimate and it lets him smell whatever fragrance you’re wearing that day.

Gifts you with things you can use together; pajamas he’d like to see you in, perfumes/colognes for him to smell, puzzles you can work on together.

After dinner every night, you sit on the couch and read together

Not a big TV guy

Often turns on music so he can dance with you; simple waltz’s and such🎵

When he loves you, truly, he tells you.

He’s European, he doesn’t consider it weird to express love that way.

“I have something to tell you. Just sit. I love you. More than all else.”

He gets protective over you too

Not a super violent dude, but he does what he has to for you

Will put himself between you and anything he considers to be a threat.

He calls you Russian pet names, but in English so you can understand: “my beloved”, “little sparrow”, or “mousy”

You call him “Nikki”. He doesn’t like it but he knows you do. ☺️

“Nikki?”

*sigh* “Yes, my wondrously beautiful?”

Has cold feet in bed. I’m sorry, he just does. 🙃

He enjoys being kissed on his collar bone. Turns him on more than anything.

Enjoys going to bed early and waking up early. Loves to see the sunrise.

He proposes to you during a sunrise. You two are having coffee, and you bring him his just right.

Two hits black cane sugar and a splash of goat’s milk (lactose intolerant boi)

While the sun comes over the horizon, he leans in, kisses you, and slips something into your finger

It’s his great great grandmother’s engagement ring, a beautiful starburst emerald in the center.

“Ready for another adventure?”❤️

“I love you, Nikki.”

“I love you too, Y/N”😘

Bonus: I think he’d genuinely be interested in Native American culture. Like genuinely enthralled by their history and resilience. That’s the only way you can get him to watch TikTok is if he’s learning something, but he follows Tia Wood and Shiva Nova. (Or makes you follow them, lol)

[monstersinthecosmos]

stealing your question as promised: what authors do you think shaped your writing the most when you were first starting?

-mothmage

sdjkgas in middle school my favorite authors were Anne Rice and Francesca Lia Block and I think they have SENSUALITY in common even though their writing styles are SO opposite. As a teen when I was first writing I think I learned so much from both of them, like the seriousness and drama of AR but at the same time, FLB is so concise and punchy and sometimes her books are like these waterfalls of adjectives and I tried to think in that way too! Like I'm a very visual person so FLB books were like fucking crack for me, just heaps and heaps of descriptions of color and glittery and starry night skies and flowers growing where they shouldn't and it feels like poetry!

(I opened a random FLB book off my shelf and this is what I mean: We walked up and down the hills until our legs ached, then rode the trolley car to feel rushes of salty, misty air. We had picnics and fed the swans on the lake under the flowering terra-cotta arches, drank tea and ate pastries in rooms with cupids and rosebuds painted on the walls, strolled through the park, green-dazzled, fragrance-drunk, gasped at treasures gleaming gold in the half-lit glass cases of the museum. Then we'd return with spices, fruits and vegetables from Chinatown, seafood and baguettes from the wharf.

Her writing is so simple but it's just like heaps and heaps of sensory details !! And it's an interesting spectrum between her & AR to see how much you can say and like what type of efficiency you can find, because both of them give me that same feeling and feel so sensuous to me. I WANT TO KNOW WHAT EVERYTHING LOOKS LIKE AND SMELLS LIKE AND SOUNDS LIKE, TAKE ME THERE!

So as a teen I think I was learning a lot from them both and like I remember a fic I wrote with someone at a mall and it was like my FLB moment, I was like OMG I MUST MENTION THE TACO SMELL IN THE FOOD COURT AND THE PERFUME KIOSK AND THE HOUSE MUSIC BLASTING FROM A HAT SHOP AND THE CRUNCHY SUGAR ON A PRETZEL! And that's something that's stuck with me a lot, I think. I always want to tell you how things feel and smell like we're going on a journey, okay!

They both also have a way of treating cities/locations like characters--FLB actually does this quite literally by describing cities as if they're women (like LA is a blonde woman with big sunglasses and NYC has dyed black hair with severe red lipstick that stains on her cigarette butts, etc something like that) and it feels really specific and made me think a lot about locations and settings and how they affect the characters and story! They were also both the first books I ever read with queer people! FLB's short story Dragons in Manhattan was the first story I ever read with a trans person back when I was like 12 or 13.

AND THEN as a final nail in the coffin LOL I read I Know This Much is True by Wally Lamb when I was in 9th or 10th grade and it just really like !! IDK broke my head open for character voice. I don't think I'd read it so well done before, or maybe not noticed before. LIKE I MEAN this entire concept is like asking what did WE discover as kids or whatever, like so much of it is happenstance and if it hadn't been these authors it would've been someone else, and it's not like I stopped reading LOL like I still learn things from reading all the time! But Wally Lamb really brought this home for me. Like the way he writes Dominick's narration is just so like cynical and rugged and full of hurt and it made me think a lot about like how to profile a character with the language we use. I don't think FLB does this too much bc her writing is so breezy anyway and AR is so wordy that I don't think I could pick up on it as a teenager. I get more nuance now and see it better but it's there's a base level of like fanciness and purple prose that can be hard to see through on the first try, at least for me as a teen.

ANYWAY SORRY THAT WAS A REALLY LONG RESPONSE I JUST GOT REALLY EXCITED but Anne Rice + FLB + Wally Lamb wombo combo for emotionally torturous sensory overload cynical guttermouth style.

[alwaysmychoices]

"Fuel to the Fire"

Synopsis: The day after their relationship-ending fight, Charlie and Ethan are forced to work together. Instead of getting back together, they end up adding fuel to the fire.

Chapter 37 of the “with and without” series

Previous Series: “a weekend with dr. ramsey”

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlotte “Charlie” Greene)

Words: 5.1k (sorry)

Rating: Teen (language)

Also available on AO3 & Wattpad (link in Masterlist)

Ethan let the alarm ring for five minutes.

He was awake the entire time.

He’d been awake all night.

The alarm echoed in his bedroom, searching for a man but only finding a ghost. He’d spent the entire night dreading that sound, dreading the moment that night would end – for even if this was the worst night of his life, it would be even worse to face the day.

A day without Charlie.

The first of many miserable mornings. From the melancholy of his unslept-in sheets, Ethan watched his entire life unfold before his eyes, every day dulled by his insurmountable grief. The future formed so effortlessly in his imagination that he was confident in its accuracy, yet he simultaneously couldn’t fathom a single moment of it.

How did he sleep at night without her?

How did he get out of bed without her?

How did he remember how to live again if he had to do it without her?

Ethan allowed the alarm to ring and tried to conjure the smell of Charlie’s shampoo. It had only been two nights since they’d shared these sheets, yet her smell was already so distant. He could relive it if he focused on her memory, but soon, even that would be gone.

Coconut and vanilla, he reminded himself quietly, Jasmine perfume. Red wine on her lips and cherry flavored Chapstick.

Ethan knew he was pathetic, yet he lacked the strength to do anything else.

He’d taken the very best thing in his life and destroyed it with the same casual malice he destroyed everything he had ever held dear – with quiet contempt, silent failures, and unshared shame. He’d ruined their relationship in such a way that he’d ruined himself in the process.

An unforeseen but deserving casualty.

Ethan had always been the first to leave, but so had Charlie.

Maybe it was fair that, for the first time, Ethan felt the true agony of losing Charlie. The first time around, he’d been comforted by his pride and confidence that he was doing the right thing, but what did it matter if he was right if it meant waking up alone?

His moral and logical superiority did little to ease the hole in his chest that formed the second she shattered their irrevocable tie.

Ethan was always one to self-sabotage.

Always taking one for the team.

Doing what needed to be done.

Burning the bridges to save the fleet.

And here, when he’d lit a match and watched his life turn to ash, he saw a glimmer of the truth – that he was always going to mess this up. That he’d never been the kind of man who could sustain something so tender and fragile. He would always catch fire again, no matter which innocent victim would encounter the blaze. He was never going to let himself have this. He was always going to destroy their relationship, if just to prove that he’d never deserved it in the first place.

He was ready to beg for forgiveness, but he wasn’t ready to assume full responsibility. Naively, he still hoped for a miraculous reunion. He thought she would come back if he just gave her more time.

But a few blocks away, Charlie didn’t share his hope.

She approached her morning routine with the finality of a woman at a funeral and the discomfort of someone returning to their life after a long time away.

Her grief was subtle.

An emptiness here. A disappointment there. A flash of fury and bitterness when she saw something reminding her of him.

A solemn, unshakable truth.

Ethan and Charlie wouldn’t reunite in a dimly lit hospital hall and share tender words of forgiveness. There would be no forbidden words of affection and empty promises of change. There would be no beginning, just the unnerving future without the other.

This fight, unlike all the others, was for the sum of its parts, not the individual slights.

Charlie could forgive each moment of betrayal, but she could never accept the future it offered.

Well-meaning promises meant nothing if they weren’t accompanied by action. A beautiful, hidden truth was hollow when faced with living a lie. A collection of loving moments could never replace a lifetime.

The shatter in their foundation was the product of a thousand tiny breaks. Missed opportunities and unspoken disappointments gathered until Charlie could no longer bear the weight of it.

Maybe that was her failing.

Maybe she was the villain for failing to carry her burden.

Maybe she was the arsonist, blaming another as she burned from the fire she set.

Or maybe, in the twisted web they’d weaved, they each wore the other’s blood as a price for their failures.

All Ethan had to do was change his mind.

But he never would.

And she would accept nothing less.

So, Charlie had to learn to make her coffee without him again. She had to bear her commute without his comforting presence in the driver’s seat. She would spend her nights without him, wake without him, and live without him.

She had been with his love, and now she would be without.

She was strong enough to survive it – even if she had to wake up every morning and go to the hospital where she’d fallen in love with him.

Charlie hadn’t seen him yet, but she could feel him lurking in the halls. It was as if a missing piece of her had gotten loose and now wandered the halls, following her just as eagerly as she evaded it.

Ethan spent all morning waiting to see her again, and she spent all morning avoiding him.

And when it finally happened, it wasn’t what either of them wanted it to be.

It should have been romantic – they saw each other in a crowded hall, and time stood still. They forgot everything and everyone around them, and in a world of their own creation, they connected through longing stares.

But it was unbearable.

Charlie wanted to look away and carry on with her day, ambivalent to the man who had claimed her heart for the last year, but no matter how deeply she craved disinterest, seeing him was a flaming arrow to an icy heart. All it took was one look for the hurt and affection to spread through her limbs, bringing her back to life just to feel the pain of a fatal wound. He was an unsettling present, not a distant future.

He was so close she could touch him, and that was the worst part.

She was painfully aware that she was keeping them apart, and she knew she had the power to declare a truce. She hated him for making her feel responsible and hated herself for not claiming that responsibility.

And for Ethan, it was just as overwhelming and warming as he thought it would be. She was sunlight. She was the beginning and the end, the sole source of meaning in a barren land. He would do anything to have her make him whole again – except for the one thing she wanted.

But unlike the dream where he’d imagined her running up to him and swearing her faith to their secret devotion, she remained on the opposite side of the room. It might as well have been the opposite side of the world. He saw the conflict and pain in her eyes, and he knew he was the cause.

The hope in him burned and burned until it was nothing more than a searing memory.

It was the beginning of the end, but unfortunately for Ethan, he’d woken in the middle.

Neither said a word, but neither needed to.

Their unbearable pain was expressed and inflicted with a single gaze.

This was their final resting place, and the rest of the hospital served as mourners.

And if they weren’t mourning, they certainly were watching.

Maybe the whole hospital didn’t know they were in a relationship, but they surely knew they were in love. Or at least they were yesterday.

Whispers grew steadily until the buzz in Charlie and Ethan’s ears forced them to the present.

Charlie was the first to break their stare, quickly averting her eyes and shuffling past him towards another patient. Ethan lingered, visibly wounded and stunned. Shifting his gaze back to the patient chart in his hand, Ethan struggled to regain his composure, and he didn’t have to look to know that Charlie was already gone and back to whatever she had been doing before him.

She didn’t need him today. She might never need him again.

Ethan struggled through his next task, equally dreading and hoping to see Charlie again.

He didn’t need to wait long.

Within half an hour, they were both in the diagnostics office, standing uncomfortably close despite being on opposite sides of the room. Ethan, still scarred from their last encounter, sat silent and wide-eyed.

It took less than a minute for their coworkers to sense the difference in them.

It took five for them to realize that Charlie was going out of her way to avoid Ethan.

She directed her questions to Harper and her suggestions to Tobias. When she had to acknowledge Ethan, her words were sharp and deceivingly dispassionate. As time passed, Ethan’s presence grew increasingly irritating. She hated seeing him in this office, so quiet and defeated when he was the one with the power to make it all end.

She hated him for disappointing her.

She hated him for having the audacity to exist when she was in so much pain.

She hated him for daring to grieve when she didn’t feel he deserved the luxury.

Fear, discomfort, and bitterness bubbled in her chest and came out in thinly-veiled barbs and deliberate avoidance. With everything she said, Ethan became more withdrawn, and for a moment, it seemed like she was only speaking to get a rise out of Ethan.

He never rose to meet her threat.

Of course, he wouldn’t, she scoffed, That would require actually doing something.

Their coworkers exchanged silent glances, wondering what turned affection so sweet into bitterness so sour.

Since Bloom acquired Edenbrook, the structure of the team changed. Baz and June left, and Harper and Tobias replaced them – neither particularly welcome. Ethan and Charlie were united against Tobias, each despising him for separate reasons, and only in recent weeks had Tobias started to crack Charlie’s chilly dislike. Harper was one of many reminders that Ethan prioritized secrecy over the validity of their relationship.

He never told Harper he was dating Charlie, though she’d long had her suspicions.

As a result, Charlie endured many coffee breaks in seething jealousy as she watched Harper be too familiar with her boyfriend.

But even when Charlie and Ethan disagreed, they’d presented themselves as a united team. You couldn’t conquer one without the support of the other.

Now, Tobias suspected that Charlie would cheer him on if he tried to destroy Ethan.

Gently, Harper tried to approach the subject, “It looks like this is all settled then. So, if anyone wants to discuss anything else…” she tepidly suggested, “Maybe if we’re upset about anything?”

“So, we’re done?” Charlie snapped.

Not that she meant to snap at her.

Despite once being a target of Charlie’s jealousy, Harper was a friend, and she only meant well. But if Ethan was determined to hide from her righteous anger, she had nowhere else to put it.

“Oh,” Harper swallowed the sting, compounding Charlie’s guilt, “I suppose so. Meeting adjourned?”

Charlie left before the team could echo its agreement. Startled by her sudden departure, Tobias and Harper sat in shock, briefly putting aside their issues to question what had just happened and whether they had a responsibility to intervene.

Sensing Harper’s pity and concern, Ethan pulled himself together just enough to excuse himself before she could corner him. Harper was a good friend – his best friend – but nothing she could say would dull the ache in his chest, and he couldn’t confess his sins and watch another loved one assign him the guilt.

Outside the office, a group of residents watched as Ethan and Charlie stormed out of the diagnostics meeting only moments apart – Charlie with fiery determination and Ethan with bumbling disarray. By now, gossip whispered through every corner of the hospital. Everyone knew that Charlie and Ethan were upset with one another, and bets were taken on what caused the rift.

“They must have broken up,” one whispered to her friends, snickering as she basked in the scandal. Her suggestion earned a giggle from some and confident agreement from others.

“You only look that mad when a man let you down,” another grimly affirmed, more concerned with her own tale of woe than Charlie’s.

“They are not sleeping together,” Ava Silva was the sole objector – not that she was an objective spectator.

Ava had spent the last year crushing on Dr. Ramsey from afar, often dreaming of the day she’d become his confidant and partner like Dr. Greene. Ava pictured a future of working long hours as his prized intern and falling in love with him over their shared passions. She had no idea that someone else had already lived her dream life and that it had turned into a nightmare.

“What makes you so confident?” Ava’s friend challenged, the innuendo clear, and Ava blushed but refused to acknowledge the implication.

Her crush was well known to her fellow interns and even some of the attendings, all of which had seen her drop everything to join one of Dr. Ramsey’s cases. The only person who didn’t know was Ethan himself.

Normally, he would have spotted the signs and warned her off, just as he had scared away interns before her. But this year, Ethan was blind in love with Charlie, and frankly, he hadn’t noticed Ava.

She was smart. The best intern in her class, surely. Tolerable socially. Perhaps too eager but never to an unprofessional extent. She was a raw gem and could be polished into something special.

But she would never be anything like Charlie.

And all he saw was Charlie.

Even when Charlie cursed his name and stormed away, Ethan swore he could see her shining aptitude and overwhelming goodness linger in her path.

For now, Ava could imagine herself as the protagonist of Ethan Ramsey’s story. Or if not the protagonist today, a potential protagonist. His future, even. Because, in her story, he was the shimmering prince, and she waited for her opportunity to strike before midnight.

“I just don’t think it’s fair to always assume successful women are sleeping with some guy she’s working with. It feels disrespectful, especially when we all know what Dr. Greene’s been through. She should be allowed to be a powerful woman without being someone’s girlfriend,” Ava shrugged casually, and just as she hoped, her friends were sufficiently shamed into stopping them from further speculation on Ethan Ramsey’s love life, “And anyway, we don’t even know they’re fighting.”

“Oh, they’re definitely fighting.”

To that, Ava had no response.

Not that she really needed one.

Dr. Ramsey was approaching the group, and no matter how intrigued they were by the new gossip, they didn’t dare breathe a word of it near him. Despondent or not, he could make their lives hell, and on a day like this, he’d probably revel in the act.

The interns that could escape did. The poor interns that couldn’t tried their best to look busy.

Ava smiled – a bright, foolishly-in-love smile.

Ethan was too preoccupied remembering Charlie’s glare to notice Ava’s smile.

“Dr. Silva,” Ethan greeted her abruptly, ignoring her surrounding colleagues and giving them the peace of knowing they weren’t the target for whatever this conversation entailed.

“Yes, Dr. Ramsey?”

“I need you to take over a few patients today,” Ethan grumbled, sorting through the charts in his hands without looking up at her.

“Really?” she failed to hide her enthusiasm.

Ava knew she was his favorite intern this year – he’d said as much during a scathing review of their class during rounds. She’d been trusted with upper-level assignments before, but to be selected for a last-minute case change had to mean something. Surely, this was the first step to something more.

In the two seconds it took Ethan to find and offer the patient charts, Ava constructed their entire life together. Admittedly, it was not the first time she’d done this, but she hoped it would be the last.

“Check in with the patients and run preliminary labs. I especially want to see Ms. Johnson’s white blood cell count. Report back to me before rounds, and Dr. Clark can assist you if needed,” Ethan sighed, trying to suppress his irritation for giving such simple instructions.

Charlotte could handle these cases without having her hand held. Hell, she’d probably diagnose them all by the time she offered her report.

But Charlotte made it very clear she didn’t want to see him today.

Reassigning her cases felt like the best course of action. If she wanted space, he could give her space. He didn’t need to spend his afternoon fighting with the woman he loved over basic lab results or simple diagnostic steps. They’d spent all night fighting over things that mattered. To cheapen it with screaming about which NSAID to administer would be unbearable.

Among his many gifts, Ethan had always been good at rationalizing his bad choices, especially regarding Charlie.

He handed the files to Dr. Silva like he was a hero for saving Charlie from the pain of having to work with him. As he slunk away to his office, he fancied himself a martyr. Giving up a day of watching Charlie solve medical mysteries was an undeniable sacrifice.

And it had nothing to do with how he felt when she looked at him.

Nothing at all.

Across the hospital, Charlie teetered between all-consuming fury and unbearable emptiness. She didn’t know which was worse, but she wanted neither.

She wanted not to want him.

She wanted to reclaim her independence. She wanted to stop being in love with him because the last few months had done nothing but prove that loving him wasn’t enough. She was tired of waiting for Ethan to understand, and she was tired of herself giving him so many opportunities.

At least she had her work.

She completed her morning responsibilities in record time, using her business to escape the rumors and whispers that followed her in the halls. But work wasn’t unlimited, and she soon found herself without anything to do until the test results on her patients came back. Unable to stomach sitting still or enduring the concern of her friends, Charlie went in search of work.

She was sure that she had more patients. This morning, there were more charts in her stack, so some of them must have gotten misplaced. She was confident that she’d checked on Ms. Johnson in Room 548 this morning, but her file was nowhere to be found.

“Debby?” Charlie stopped a passing nurse, hoping for some help after her second search yielded no results, “Do you know what happened to my case assignment this morning? I could have sworn I had at least four more, and I can’t find any record of them anywhere.”

“Another resident took a few of them this morning,” Debby shrugged, “I thought they told you.”

“Oh,” Charlie frowned. No one had said anything. Not even a push notification letting her know. “I must have missed it. Thanks.”

Debby nodded and resumed her original task, leaving Charlie to stew in a new mystery.

Confused and needing something to occupy her time, Charlie decided to investigate. Pretty confident that she remembered Ms. Johnson’s room number, Charlie wandered the halls. Hopefully, she would find some answers there, and if she was lucky, she could take Ms. Johnson’s case back. Charlie already had a few ideas from her preliminary work, and she wanted to follow through.

Just as she remembered, Ms. Johnson was in Room 548, but now, Dr. Silva’s name was assigned to the patient.

The intern? Charlie’s face twisted in confusion. Ava Silva was a talented doctor, sure, but Charlie knew she already had a full caseload when they got their assignments this morning. Who would have taken Charlie’s patients and given them to an already busy intern?

As if summoned by Charlie’s internal musings, the interns started to gather in the halls, anticipating their afternoon rounds with Dr. Ramsey. Nearing her deadline, Ava rushed through the halls, test results and charts precariously tucked under her arm. Seeing Charlie, Ava offered a quick, polite smile but didn’t stop – not even when Charlie returned her greeting with a look of bewilderment. Instead, Ava hurriedly continued her search for Dr. Ramsey.

Curiously, Charlie followed. What could make Ava so nervous, especially when the day was already strange enough?

It must be something interesting. Hopefully interesting enough to distract Charlie from her own misery.

To her horror, Charlie rounded the corner and saw Ethan tucked away in his favorite hiding spot – an alcove between two major hallways. It was hidden enough that he was rarely disturbed, but it was close to starting place for rounds. In those precious moments before rounds began, he hated being disturbed by brown-nosing interns hoping to flex their knowledge or dedication. Instead, he liked to review his notes in silence and often formed his legendary hypotheticals from this secluded corner.

Charlie instinctively took a step back, feeling knocked down by the familiarity of that corner.

She had spent so many mornings sneaking into that hiding spot with him. She was the one resident he allowed to stand there, and it had become as much their spot as it was his.

Charlie remembered the way his worry lines formed a ridge on his forehead when he read a difficult file. She remembered how it felt to smooth it away with the pad of her thumb and bask in his appreciation. She remembered how warm his smile would be as he thanked her, and she could feel a ghost of her own smile as she savored his loving gaze. If she listened close enough, she could hear the echo of his favorite jokes and the bubble of her laughter drifting through the halls.

Worst of all, Charlie knew she could do it again.

She knew, if she just went to him, he would give her the same tender smile and whisper of devotion. All she would have to do is waive her resolve.

A tempting but impossible offer.

Charlie’s internal monologue was interrupted by the jarring sight of Ava Silva walking to Ethan’s hideaway and presenting him with the stack of papers beneath her arm – one of which Charlie could have sworn was Ms. Johnson’s chart.

All at once, it made sense.

He gave away her patients.

He took them from her because of their fight.

And he gave them to her – the intern who had spent the last year vying for Charlie’s place in the hospital and Ethan’s life. She’d confessed her affection for Ethan to Charlie, not that she’d ever shared it with Ethan. The whole hospital knew, and the great Ethan Ramsey should have known, too.

He’d promised that Charlie was more to him than a shiny star. He’d sworn a lifelong affection, transcending her attraction as a brand-new toy.

But given the first opportunity, he’d replaced her with the next top intern. It hadn’t even taken a day. Was this how he processed despair? By picking another girl and modeling her into the role he liked? Was Charlie just a character he could now imitate in every young woman with a brilliant mind and inappropriate crush?

And to use her career as his bargaining chip? Stripping her of her cases like they were contingent on being the woman who shared his bed? Did he reduce her to a quid pro quo on purpose? What happened to all those speeches about her tremendous potential?

Charlie’s skin burned, radiating rage, and a thousand curses clawed their way up her throat, each begging to be hurled at Ethan.

Blinded by her anger, Charlie abandoned their quiet cold war and threw them both into the fire of armed conflict. She stomped up to him, unaware and uninterested if anyone saw.

“You took away my cases?” she accused, not wasting time with greetings or polite conversation.

“Charlotte –” Ethan faltered, surprised and confused at her outburst. And maybe a little relieved to at least be directly acknowledged by her.

“And to her?” Charlie waved dismissively at Ava, who had been staring, mouth agape. She’d never seen Charlie like this, and she expected Dr. Ramsey to react with the same surprise.

But he looked resigned, not startled.

He didn’t look at Ava, not even when Charlie acknowledged her. Nor did Charlie’s eyes leave Ethan’s. Shrinking into the background, Ava felt increasingly irrelevant and intrusive – like she’d carelessly stumbled into a dispute having nothing to do with her.

“You thought you could prove your point about my career by taking the first swing?” Charlie seethed, lowering her voice to keep herself from screaming.

“No!”

“Is this my punishment for calling out your bullshit?” Charlie persisted, “Getting pushed out of my own cases?”

Ethan bristled – not because it was true but because her accusation made him question himself.

Had that been his motive? Had he disguised revenge as altruism?

Part of him was convinced he had. The other part was shattered by the indictment. All he had ever done was support Charlie. He was her champion, even when she didn’t have the strength to do it herself. He’d endured this ridiculous separation out of respect for all she could achieve and all he could ruin.

He would never hurt her career like that.

But maybe… maybe he would punish her.

Fighting his self-suspicion and disdain, he fired back, “I reassigned your cases when you made it clear this morning that you did not want to work with me today. These are my patients, Charlotte, and I can disperse them as appropriate.”

Charlie’s cheeks flared bright, burning red from anger and embarrassment.

Of course, they were his patients.

He was the brilliant Dr. Ramsey. But they were her’s, too. He’d never taken anyone’s patients without cause, and this sure as hell wasn’t cause.

“And you think it’s appropriate to reassign my cases after I already started working on them?” Charlie edged closer, “All because I ignored you at a meeting?”

“Charlotte, if you want to have a professional conversation, you can make a complaint in my office, but this is highly inappropriate—” Ethan crossed his arms, asserting his superiority like a fucking saint.

Bullshit.

He couldn’t talk to her about professionalism or appropriate workplace behavior when he was the one who took away her patients because she dared to tell him he was full of shit. He was the one who started this.

And he didn’t get to act like a god of virtue when he was also the one violating hospital policy by fucking his resident.

He didn’t get to redraw the boundaries and pretend they’d always been there.

They’d blurred the line at work too often for him to use it against her.

“Fuck you, Ethan.”

Ethan’s body jerked back.

Just around the corner, a cluster of interns started to gather, pleasantly surprised by the scandalous reward for their earliness. The trio heard them stir just out of reach and knew that they would hear anything further they said.

Panic swallowed Ethan’s features, twisting his false confidence into pure terror. After all he’d given up, he refused to watch it all burn because a handful of nosy interns overheard their fight.

Sensing his sudden distress, Charlie rolled her eyes. Of course. Her suffering could never compete with the demand of public perception. First and foremost, Ethan was Dr. Ramsey and all that role entailed. The man she fell in love with was a secondary figure, and he would never be more than that.

“Don’t worry. I won’t make a scene,” Charlie said bitterly, “I don’t need to. We both know you’re not going to change.”

She took another step closer – so close he could smell the coconut in her shampoo.

Coconut shampoo. Jasmine perfume. Cherry Chapstick.

A scent so familiar that it swallowed him whole. He took a long, deep breath and savored it and the memories it invoked. Nights in his bed. Hidden kisses in the halls. Long conversations with wine over dinner. “I love you,” whispered so many times it became an incantation.

Ethan Ramsey loved Charlotte Greene – even when she hated him.

Just a glimpse of their life together numbed him to the misery of the last twenty-four hours, easing the constant pain that plagued him from the moment she stormed out of his home.

But then he met her gaze and saw a resentment so raw that it shattered him all over again. From the highest high, he fell further than he ever had.

Twin flames burned until the home turned to ash.

Blinking past tears, Charlie stepped away, and for the first time since she’d approached, she looked at Ava.

It was the first time Ava had been acknowledged as an unintentional observer. All this time, Ava had forgotten they could even see her. She’d been so irrelevant that she wondered if she was even there at all.

With a sad smile, Charlie appraised Ava like she was looking at a past version of herself, and she offered her the warning she wished she’d had, “Don’t bother. Even when he tries his best, you won’t come out unscathed.”

Ava swallowed heavily, watching as Ethan and Charlie shared a look heavy with hurt and profound, underlying affection. She’d never seen anyone look at another person like that.

And for the first time, Ava realized that she wasn’t the main character of this story. Today was the last day she imagined a future with Dr. Ramsey because she knew that, even if they both lost this war, Charlie was his future.

Without another word, Charlie left them both, and to his surprise, Ethan suffered her departure more than he’d suffered from any of her harsh words.

He tried to swallow his hurt. He tried to hide.

And he managed a brave face – all the while the deepest, darkest rejection and pain rooted in his soul. Nerve endings that had gone numb with his mother’s abandonment roared to life only to drown him in despair.

Ethan coughed awkwardly, the only acknowledgment he offered Ava for the unfortunate scene she’d witnessed. He knew he owed her more but didn’t trust himself to speak of it without losing the façade of togetherness.

Instead, he ran straight into the fire – into a group of waiting interns. He took out his frustration on their mistakes, punishing them for every error and hesitation. But as he hurled his criticisms like weapons, he only saw Charlie’s face in their pained expressions.

And even if it broke him, at least he could see her.

A/N: I came back from the grave just to torture them more, my bad.