#nobody talk to me about my finances

[shogunish]

pro tip: never start cosplaying, this shit cooks your bank account

[p1utofairy]

★ your next glow up?

note — i wasn't gonna post this now but i figured fuck it why not?! enjoy, my loves! this is for entertainment purposes only <3 take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. p.s. come in my ask box and tell me what you think!

PILE ONE.

pile mf ONE, you are really stepping into a new era! when i tell you this new you is gonna turn HEADS. tuh, you’re gonna be looking like new money. nicki minaj’s ‘new body’ verse is coming to mind lol “you ain’t fuck me, you fucked the old body. you ain’t fuck nicki, you fucked nicole body! ain’t no miles on this here new body, off with they heads these bitches is nobody’s.” OH YEAH OKAYYY, PILE 1. maybe you’ll be hitting the gym more, switching up your diet or possibly getting some cosmetic work done?

whatever you’re doing differently, it’s gonna be noticeable. people are gonna feel like something changed with you overnight like “um when did pile 1 get so bad?” and this isn’t to say you aren’t already attractive…there’s just something about your energy and confidence that just amplified x1000 and people are really gonna feel and see this change in you. you might start experimenting with your outfits a little more, giving off a more seductive vibe. it’s like you're breaking out of your comfort zone especially if you usually opt for baggier clothes or a more conservative look. wait cause why am i thinking of ‘pretty little liars’ when emily is talking to aria about hanna and she’s like “haven’t you heard? she’s the it girl now.” PERIOD, PILE ONE. giving serena page vibes from love island.

there will be a lot of talk about you and even if you don’t hear it directly, trust me, people are gonna try to keep tabs on you. i’m seeing people re-watch your instagram stories tryna figure out who took you that place and who you’re doing it with — oh these people are spiralingggg. this could very well be potential suitors tryna scope out the scenery, but they’re not sure if you’ll be interested in them. they might fear rejection because you just look so damn good and it looks like you’re in such a better space in life and got your shit together; whereas they feel like they lack the resources/finances to be with you. these potential love interests see you as high value, pile 1. they’re intimidated by your beauty and aura. you’ll be more so focused on attracting a partner that can actually make shit happen.

you don’t have time for the cat and mouse games. you want the real deal and i do see you getting the person that you want. you manifested this person into your life and i sense them feeling like they won the lottery with you! i’m hearing that you are sooo mesmerizing on the outside and your heart & personality makes you so much more beautiful. there’s layers to you and i think this next glow up will allow you to really shine and be yourself unapologetically – you’re leaning into the different aspects of yourself that makes you unique. if there’s anything you’ve got your mind set on or something specific you want to do, go for it! whatever you do, you’ll stand out effortlessly and be successful. say yes by floetry is coming to mind. “see, i’ve been watching you for awhile…your smile and style. wanna know if i can be with you for the night, alright.” i meannnnn need i say more?!

how to tap into this energy?

listen closely to your intuition! work on your third eye because i’m hearing that you’re a powerful manifester and you don’t even truly know it. even if you do know this, you start doubting yourself and limiting your own thoughts. always think big and bigger because it’s in your reach. don’t get so caught up in the “how?” because your manifestations can appear in many different ways, not just one. you have a clear vision into the future – you just gotta adjust your lens and focus on what it is that YOU want. who cares if it doesn’t make sense to anyone else, as along as you see the vision then it’s a go! listen to ‘i want it all’ by sharpay evans lol you need to embody that song and its energy.

PILE TWO.

hey, pile 2! i’m hearing you’ve been putting up with the bullshit for wayyyy too long and this next glow up is gonna be a proper FUCK YOU to all your haters! i feel like people take your kindness for weakness and you feel like you don’t get the respect you deserve. you can deal with a lot of passive aggression in your relationships or friendships and people expect for you to suck it up and be okay with it. what i’m mainly picking up is that you like to keep the peace. you don’t want to ruffle anyone’s feather, but it just makes it worse for you because you’re not truly expressing yourself and your emotions. this keeps you up at night like “ugh! i should’ve said this or I should’ve stuck up for myself and finally cussed so and so tf out.” but you don’t because you know why, pile 2? you’re better than them, simple as that.

you wouldn’t treat anybody how some people treat you, and the reality is that it’s so much harder to be nice than it is to be mean. anybody can be mean and say hurtful shit if they really wanted to, but to always be graceful and kind in the face of adversity and ignorance? rare af. +10000 aura points! don’t let anybody make you feel less than or like you can’t speak up for yourself. this next glow up you’re going to use your voice and really make it known that you are not to be fucked with, okay?! you will be standing your ground and really popping your shit in the most calm and collected way possible & people are gonna be like “wait…did [y/n] really just clock me like that?!” and you’re gonna be standing 10 toes down on it as you should. they’ll have no choice but to respect you lol. you will start to realize what is worth your time & energy and what isn’t.

you might start cutting off people that don’t mean you any good and really start to focus on yourself and your energy. no more walking on egg shells and sparing peoples feelings, this is YOUR life and you have a voice just as much as they do – so use it! i think you’ll also be meeting new friends & a potential love interest during this next glow up. i’m hearing ‘how stella got her groove back’ lol so yeah some of you might be playing the field a little bit.

some of you might just want something casual and nothing more because you just want to focus on your own healing journey. you’ll start to understand why things had to happen the way that they did & why certain relationships didn’t work out the way that you thought they would. you’ll be able to decipher what you are and aren’t willing to put up with and honestly i just see you bossing tf up and advocating for yourself no matter who doesn’t like it. that tiktok “nobody loves you baby! you should only love yourself – ON MY SOUL!” just randomly came to me lmfaooo this is your ‘i’m focusing on what really matters aka me’ era and i think it’s exactly what you need pile 2.

how to tap into this energy?

i think you need to transmute the negative energy that people try to project on you into something positive. 12:12 on the clock, yeah. like look at this way, if people doubt you, don’t respect you or don’t feel like your capable of achieving great things then use that to your advantage. let them underestimate you all they want, and then BAM boss up on them and show them who tf you are. what they don’t know only makes you stronger. you have the power to make some powerful ass connections and make a name for yourself so be calculated & strategic with your moves. people will be eating their words when it comes to you, pile 2.

PILE THREE.

pile 3 your next glow up is gonna be a bit of an emotional rollercoaster ngl, but very rewarding nonetheless. i’m hearing that one tiktok sound “you gotta take the good with the bad, smile with the sad. love what you got and remember what you had.” so yeah i think you’re really gonna be figuring out how to transmute your energy and create something from it – whether that be a job opportunity, a love offer, a trip, etc. there’s something that you really want and you’re doing the work to make it happen. you have the plan, you just need the platform lol.

for some of you, i see a major relationship coming to an end. this could be a lover or a best friend, but this person will be exposed because they’re not who you thought they were. this person has very sneaky/deceptive energy and you’ve been in the dark about this for way too long. this person/connection means a lot to you, so you will feel like this is a tough situation to completely walk away from; but my sweet pile 3’s you will be more than okay! you will be spectacular! 10:10 was just on the clock.

allow yourself to sort through your emotions and learn from the situation, don’t let it weigh you down. sometimes we get too caught up in how long we’ve been with somebody and all of the good memories we made with them, that makes us hesitant to move on. sometimes things just run its course and you’re no longer in alignment with that person. you can’t force anything or anyone in your life that doesn’t align with your highest self and that can be very hard to process when emotions are involved but i’m happy to let you know there’s light at the end of the tunnel.

i see some of you traveling to a place you’ve always wanted to go and possibly meeting a potential love interest. in this next glow up, you’ll be doing things that you’ve always wanted to do cause there’s no one holding you back. you’re stepping out of your comfort zone and just taking a leap of faith – high risk, high reward. you’re gonna be making time for yourself and also prioritizing your hobbies/interests. this is beautiful, pile 3. i see you really getting in touch with who you are at the core. be kind and gentle with yourself, because you are a precious gem that a lot of people value and care about.

how to tap into this energy?

stop giving your power away. work on your throat chakra, my loves. your voice is your power and it’s one of the major keys to your success. a closed mouth doesn’t get fed, so you need to speak up and communicate what it is that YOU want and not just say what people want to hear. this next glow up will really have you standing in your power. release is needed especially verbally cause you know that tight feeling you get in your throat when you’re tryna stop yourself from crying? yeah no more of that. no more walking on egg shells, pile 3. say what you feel and stand on it & watch how the tides turn in your favor. mwah!

PILE FOUR.

alright, pile 4! for this next glow up i see you moving. some of you might actually be moving into a new home or apartment and it’s gonna grant you so much peace and comfort. for others of you, this could be you moving on emotionally from a toxic relationship and/or familial bond and finally getting the clarity and peace you need to cut all ties and move onto something better. whatever the situation may be, it was weighing heavy on you and making you feel very down.

you’re gonna feel so free when you leave this situation behind, it’s not even funny. i’m hearing that you were a gilded bird in a cage. some of you could’ve been moving from place to place, not feeling quite settled or financially stable. if you feel lost right now and like you don’t know what to do with your life/where it’s taking you, i just wanna say keep going – W.A.Y.S. by jhené aiko is coming to mind. “if there's one thing that i learned while in those county lines, is that everything takes time. you have gotta lose your pride, you have gotta lose your mind just to find your peace of mind.” awww yeah that’s your theme song for this next glow up. things might not make sense right now, but please trust me when i say that everything is going to work out in your favor & things will be better than you could ever imagine.

you will be blessed with the tools you need to get to this next phase of your life. you are the source, pile 4. whatever you put your mind to, you can surely achieve! don’t let 3D circumstances throw you off, you are so abundant and prosperous you will see in this next glow up just how much of a powerful manifester you really are. you’re still trying to find yourself and figure out where you fit in in the world, but you don’t have to put yourself in a box, pile 4. pave your own way and once you do others will want to follow suit. no one can see your future the way that you do, so keep doing your thing because i’m seeing that you will come across people/friends that share similar interests and niches as you. awww pile 4 you’re going to find your soul tribe.

you have this flighty energy about you (air sign energy/esp gemini) like you’re from one thing to the next and you can’t figure out what you truly want to do. some of you might be in college or almost about to graduate and when people ask you “do you know what you want to do?” you’re like uhhhh….]>|>]^>.]€]€]£ like you truly don’t know but like that’s okay cause actually you do know! on a soul level, you know. what’s understood doesn’t have to be explained pile 4 lol people might not get it now but when you pop out living the life you’ve always dreamed of, TUH. they’ll understand then.

how to tap into this energy?

get out of your head so much and just vibe, pile 4. you can plan plan plan all you want but the reality is: shit happens! it might annoy you or make you feel incredibly frustrated when another problem or inconvenience pops up in your life, but there’s nothing you can’t overcome. it’s life. you will be greatful for these experiences in the long run because it will be another bridge that you’ve already crossed and dealt with, so you won’t fold under pressure – you’ll just already know what to do. you got this, pile 4. shit is about to get really good for you.

[kiwriteswords]

begs nicely for bombshell reader

In the Margin

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Bombshell!Female Reader||Word Count: 6k

Tags/Warnings: canon-typical themes, flirting, fluff, finance talk, banter, Hotch is a softie for Penelope.

Sypnosis: Aaron Hotchner’s weekly budget meetings with you, the sharp-tongued BAU financial analyst, become an unexpected mix of humor, wit, and simmering tension as professional boundaries blur. Between team antics, Penelope’s creative expenses, and your playful challenges, Hotch finds himself navigating far more than just numbers.

Aaron Hotchner wasn’t sure if he hated the newly implemented weekly budget meetings because they disrupted his already packed schedule or because of you, the BAU’s Operations Department Budget Analyst.

No--that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t that he hated you. It was that he hated how much he didn’t hate you. You were sharp-tongued, confident, and armed with a wit so quick it could cut him to ribbons before he even knew he was bleeding. It didn’t help that you looked like you belonged on a movie set rather than in a conference room dissecting every penny spent by his team.

He adjusted his tie as he entered the room. You were already seated at the head of the table, a tablet in front of you and a pen in hand, tapping it rhythmically against the desk as you scanned a detailed report. He knew that was meant for him. It was always meant for him.

“Good morning, Agent Hotchner,” you greeted without looking up. “Let’s talk about how your team managed to burn through three months of budget in--oh, a month and a half.” Your eyes finally met his, and the smile you gave him could only be described as predatory.

“Good morning, Miss. Y/L/N.” He placed his briefcase on the table and sat across from you. “I see we’re getting right into it today.”

“Well, Aaron”—and wasn’t that a bold move? Using his first name like that—“I’d love to make small talk, but someone”—you leaned forward conspiratorially, voice dropping as if this was the world’s biggest secret—“decided we needed to order customized iPad cases last month. For everyone. Including” You looked back down to the itemized invoice,"‘Penelope Garcia’s-second-backup-iPad.’”

Hotch rubbed a hand over his face. “That would be Garcia,” he said dryly.

You laughed, and the sound was like a reward he didn’t know he was aiming for. “Oh, Aaron. It’s always Penelope, isn’t it?”

The meetings became a staple of his week, though not by choice. What had started as a quarterly formality became a monthly necessity when you joined the department and discovered Penelope’s propensity for colorful, extravagant expenditures. But the kicker came two months ago, when Penelope had gone rogue with the budget to fund her “absolutely vital” initiative to replace paper case files with digital ones—complete with the max amount of storage, of course. You’d retaliated by instituting weekly budget reviews.

“She knows,” Hotch told Penelope one afternoon in her lair. “She knows it was you.”

Penelope gasped dramatically. “How does she know? Wait—does she have surveillance on me? Did she bug my office? Tell. Me. She didn’t bug my office.”

“She didn’t bug your office, Garcia,” Hotch said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She knows because you send her invoices.”

Penelope frowned. “But those were justified expenses!”

“She’s not convinced.” Hotch sighed. “Neither is the finance department.”

“Well, maybe if she’d loosen up a bit—”

“She’s very loose, Garcia,” Hotch muttered before realizing how that sounded. Penelope’s grin was instant, and Hotch scowled. “Don’t.”

“I’m just saying,” she teased, “you’ve been spending a lot of time with Miss. Y/N Y/L/N. Maybe you like these meetings more than you’re letting on.”

He left her office before she could get another word in.

The meetings evolved into more than budget disputes. You had a way of challenging Hotch that nobody else did. You questioned his decisions—not about cases, but about expenses. You turned a dry meeting into something that felt like a battle of wits, and despite himself, Hotch found he didn’t mind the sparring.

“So, tell me,” you said during one particularly contentious meeting, “why does Penelope need a beanbag chair? Let me guess—‘it fosters creative thinking.’”

Hotch cleared his throat; his years of being quick on his feet as a lawyer somehow always did him good when it came to defending Penelope’s spending. “She has unique requirements for her workspace.”

“Unique, huh?” You leaned back in your chair, crossing your legs, and Hotch caught himself looking before he forced his gaze back up. “And the collection of...neon gel pens? Also, a unique requirement?”

“She…has a system.”

You laughed again, and Hotch felt the corners of his mouth twitch. He’d smiled more in these meetings than in most social situations, not that he’d admit it.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you said casually, pointing your pen at him, and Hotch stiffened. You were already standing, gathering your papers. “Meeting adjourned. See you next week, Aaron.”

It wasn’t until two months into weekly meetings that things finally shifted.

You caught him in the break room late one evening, well after everyone else had gone home. “Aaron,” you greeted, leaning against the counter with a mischievous glint in your eye. “Did you know your coffee expenses are also over budget?”

Hotch turned, mug in hand. “Should I expect an itemized report on my caffeine consumption?”

You smirked. “Already on your desk.”

The air between you crackled, and for the first time, Hotch saw something beyond the wit and the barbs. He set his mug down and stepped closer, his voice low. “You enjoy giving me a hard time.”

You tilted your head, smiling. “And you enjoy taking it.”

“Do I?” he challenged.

“Don’t you?” you shot back, and the look in your eyes was enough to make him question every professional boundary he’d ever adhered to.

He took another step closer, close enough that he could see the faint trace of amusement in your expression. “This feels like it’s about more than the budget.”

“It definitely is,” you said, your voice softer now. “Maybe I think you could use a little…loosening up.”

Hotch let himself smile just a little. “And you think you’re the person to help me with that?”

You grinned, pushing off the counter and brushing past him, close enough that he caught the faintest hint of your perfume. “I know I am.”

The budget meetings continued, but now, the tension between you and Hotch wasn’t just professional. It simmered, unspoken but palpable, until it was only a matter of time before one of you crossed the line.

And Hotch couldn’t wait to see who would make the first move.

Hotch had a long day ahead of him. Between case briefs, team check-ins, and the weekly budget meeting you’d so gleefully instituted, he felt like the universe was conspiring against him. It didn’t help that Penelope Garcia had texted him earlier with an ominous, “Sir! Big news! You’ll thank me later.”

When he stepped into the bullpen, the team was gathered around Penelope, who stood in the center like a magician about to unveil her latest trick.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she announced, waving her hands dramatically, “I give you the latest and greatest tech upgrade to grace the halls of the BAU!”

Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose as the team collectively oohed and aahed over the sleek new monitors now adorning every desk.

“Garcia,” he said, his tone low and measured, “please tell me this was approved through the appropriate channels.”

Penelope turned to him with a smile so wide it could only mean trouble. “Of course it was, sir!” Then, after a beat, she added, “I mean, I may have pulled a few strings. But can you really put a price on efficiency and team morale?”

Rossi, seated casually nearby, chimed in. “I’ll admit, it’s a nice touch. Maybe next month, you can swing for some leather chairs in the conference room. The kind that recline.”

Hotch shot him a withering look. “Don’t encourage her.”

Penelope pouted. “Come on, Hotch! You know these upgrades are totally needed. Plus, they match my aesthetic.” She gestured to her own office.

He sighed. “You know who’s going to have to explain this, don’t you?”

Her grin didn’t waver. “That’s why you’re the boss.”

Later, Hotch found himself standing outside your office, mentally preparing for the inevitable. When he knocked, you barely looked up from your screen. “Ah, Aaron,” you said, your voice dripping with mock sweetness. “What brings you to my humble lair? Let me guess—Penelope strikes again?”

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “You heard?”

“I always hear.” You gestured to the chair across from your desk. “Sit, and tell me why I shouldn’t slash your team's budget to nothing.”

Hotch sat, rubbing his temples. “She upgraded the monitors.”

Your laughter filled the room, light and musical. “Monitors? Really? Did she bedazzle them too?”

“She might have,” he muttered. “Look, I know it’s excessive, but the team…they rely on her. She keeps things running smoothly.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Running smoothly or running through money?”

Hotch gave you a flat look, which only made you grin wider.

“Alright, Aaron,” you said, leaning forward. “Here’s the deal. We can refinance a few line items. Maybe cut back on travel expenses for conferences nobody attends. But I need you to do me a favor.”

“What kind of favor?” he asked warily.

You tapped your pen against your desk, pretending to consider. “How about you keep coming to these meetings on time? And,” you added with a smirk, “try not to look so grumpy when you do.”

Hotch’s lips twitched, threatening a smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The next meeting was no less contentious, but there was a new edge to the banter.

“You really went to bat for Penelope this week,” you said, flipping through your notes. “Is she holding something over you? A dark secret, perhaps? Did she catch you sneaking an extra slice of cake at Rossi’s last party?”

Hotch gave you a pointed look. “She’s an integral part of the team.”

“And I’m sure the sparkly monitor really enhances her skillset,” you quipped. “What’s next? A gold-plated stapler?”

“Don’t give her ideas.”

You laughed, and he found himself staring at the way your eyes lit up when you did. It was distracting. You were distracting.

“So,” you continued, turning serious, “how do you propose we make this work? I’ve crunched the numbers, and unless you want to start holding bake sales, something’s gotta give.”

Hotch straightened in his chair. “Rossi suggested cutting back on the print subscriptions.”

“Oh, no,” you said, feigning horror. “What will he do without his monthly shipment of Fine Living Magazine?”

Hotch sighed. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”

“Maybe,” you admitted. “But only because you make it so easy.”

As the weeks went on, the tension between you and Hotch became undeniable. The banter turned sharper, the lingering glances longer, the air in those meetings thicker with something unspoken.

It all came to a head late one evening, long after everyone else had gone home. Hotch was leaving his office when he saw your light still on. Against his better judgment, he knocked and stepped inside.

“Still working?” he asked.

You glanced up, surprised. “Someone’s gotta keep the lights on.”

He closed the door behind him. “You don’t have to do it alone.”

“Is that an offer to help?” you asked, leaning back in your chair. “Because I could use a second set of eyes on these reports.”

Hotch stepped closer, the tension crackling between you like static electricity. "You’re good at what you do. The team is lucky to have you.”

For once, your usual smirk faltered. “Thanks, Aaron.”

The silence stretched, heavy with possibility. Then you smiled again, playful and challenging. “Careful, Hotchner. If you keep talking like that, I might start thinking you actually like me.”

He let out a rare laugh, low and genuine. “Maybe I do.”

Your eyes widened slightly before you recovered, your grin turning sly. “Well, that’s a start.”

The next budget meeting arrived with its usual dose of tension—and not just the financial kind. Hotch entered the conference room early, a strategic move to reclaim some semblance of control. You were already there, of course, seated at the head of the table, the tablet glowing in front of you.

“Early today,” you said, glancing at your watch with mock surprise. “Did someone finally read my strongly worded emails about punctuality?”

"I'm always on time, and I always read your emails,” he replied dryly, taking his usual seat across from you.

“Sure you do,” you said, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “That’s why you never respond.”

“I’m busy running a team of federal agents.”

“And yet somehow Penelope has time to order monogrammed pen holders.”

Hotch sighed, his hand already moving to rub at the bridge of his nose. “You’re never going to let that one go, are you?”

“Not a chance, Aaron.”

The meeting was halfway through when Penelope barged in, her presence as colorful as ever.

“Sir!” she chirped, holding a bright pink folder that screamed unnecessary expense. “Quick update—I managed to upgrade the entire team’s software licenses. State of the art, cutting-edge, only the best for my BAU fam.”

Hotch stared at her, his mouth a thin line. “Garcia, we discussed this.”

“I know!” she said, beaming. “That’s why I made sure to get a bulk discount. I saved us 12%.”

You leaned back in your chair, biting your lip to stifle a laugh. “Twelve percent? Wow, Aaron, she’s practically a financial wizard.”

Hotch glared at you. “Don’t encourage her.”

“I’m just saying,” you continued, “with savings like that, we’ll be out of the red in no time. What’s next, Penelope? A popcorn machine for movie nights in the bullpen?”

“Oh my God,” Penelope gasped, her eyes lighting up. “That’s genius. The camaraderie…I—”

“No,” Hotch said firmly. “Absolutely not.”

Penelope pouted, but she left without further incident. As soon as the door closed, you turned to Hotch, eyes gleaming with amusement.

“She’s incredible,” you said, shaking your head. “Completely unhinged--but incredible.”

“She’s a lot of things,” Hotch muttered. “Mostly expensive.”

“And you,” you added, grinning, “are such a softie for her.”

Hotch scoffed, leaning back in his chair, but the slight upward twitch of his lips betrayed him. “Softie? I’m her supervisor, not her enabler.”

You laughed, a low, melodic sound that Hotch had come to recognize as the precursor to trouble. “Please. You bend over backward for her, and we both know it.”

“She’s part of my team,” he replied evenly. “It’s my job to advocate for them.”

“Advocating for a new monitor system with glitter decals?” you teased, leaning forward slightly, your grin widening. “Aaron, that’s not advocacy—that’s indulgence. She's like your team's equivalent to 'happy wife, happy life.'"

Hotch crossed his arms, his stoicism cracking just enough to let his dry humor slip through. “I’d call it picking my battles.”

“Oh, really?” you shot back. “And what battle are you avoiding by letting Penelope order custom beanbag chairs?”

His lips pressed into a thin line, but you caught the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Do you know what happens if I say no to her?”

“I can only imagine,” you said, leaning your chin on your hand. “Please, enlighten me.”

“She gets creative,” Hotch said gravely. “Very creative. The last time I vetoed one of her purchases, she launched a campaign with color-coded charts and heartfelt video testimonials from the team about how much they needed a slushie machine in the bullpen.”

Your laughter filled the room again, and Hotch let the corners of his mouth lift ever so slightly. “A slushie machine? You’ve got to give her credit—that’s bold....and random.”

“She called it a ‘hydration initiative,’” he deadpanned.

You leaned back, shaking your head in disbelief. “You are such a softie.”

“I’m pragmatic,” he corrected, his tone firm but not unkind. “It’s easier to approve the monitors than to explain to Strauss why there’s a PowerPoint presentation titled ‘Ice-Cold Justice.’”

You clapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your laughter, and Hotch found himself momentarily distracted by the way your eyes sparkled with amusement. It wasn’t often he let himself relax enough to notice those things, but with you, it was becoming harder to keep the line between professional and personal intact.

“And yet,” you finally said, regaining your composure, “you’re here, pleading her case to me instead of just putting your foot down.”

“She has her merits,” he admitted, his voice softening just enough to remind you why people followed him so loyally. “The work she does is critical. Even when it’s…excessive.”

“See? Softie,” you said triumphantly, pointing your pen at him. “You can’t fool me, Hotchner. You’re all gruff on the outside, but deep down, you’re just one big teddy bear.”

“I’m not sure that’s how the rest of the Bureau would describe me,” he replied dryly.

“Well,” you said, leaning forward with a sly smile, “the rest of the Bureau doesn’t get to see you begging for beanbags.”

He gave you a long, measured look, and for a moment, the air between you seemed to shift. “I don’t beg.”

“No?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow. “What would you call this, then?”

“I’d call it negotiation,” he replied, his voice low but steady. “And if you’re not careful, I might actually win.”

Your grin widened. “Now that I’d like to see.”

Hotch allowed himself a small smirk, the kind that was so rare it felt like a reward in itself. “Don’t tempt me.”

“Oh, Aaron,” you said, leaning back in your chair, your tone playful and just a little daring. “I live to tempt you.”

For a brief moment, the tension crackled, sharper than the wit you both wielded like weapons. Then you straightened, tapping your pen against the table as if to signal the end of the moment.

“Alright, Mr. Softie,” you said lightly, “I’ll see what I can do about those monitors. But don’t think this means you’re getting that cappuccino machine Rossi asked for.”

Hotch stood, smoothing his tie as if to regain his composure. “One victory at a time.”

As he turned to leave, you called after him, your voice laced with amusement. “Don’t forget to tell Penelope her beanbags are still on the chopping block.”

He paused at the door, glancing back at you with a look that was almost fond. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

By the time Hotch left the meeting, he felt thoroughly defeated. You had grilled him on every expenditure, from coffee pods to the mysterious disappearance of two office chairs. You’d teased him mercilessly, of course, but you’d also offered solutions, which only made you more infuriatingly attractive.

Later that afternoon, Rossi cornered him in his office.

“Aaron,” Rossi began, settling into the chair across from his desk. “I have a proposition.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Not at all,” Rossi said smoothly. “I’ve been re-thinking about how to improve morale around here. You know what we need? A cappuccino machine. The kind they have in those fancy Italian cafes.”

Hotch blinked. “A cappuccino machine. We talked about this. We have coffee in the break room.”

Rossi looked hurt by Hotch's definition of coffee. “That isn’t coffee. This is an investment in productivity. Caffeine keeps the team sharp.”

“You’re serious.”

“Completely.”

Hotch exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “You do realize I have to explain this to Y/L/N?”

Rossi grinned. “You’re good with words. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

That evening, Hotch found himself in your office again, this time with what he knew was a losing argument.

“A cappuccino machine?” you repeated, arching an eyebrow. “Is that really where we’re at again?”

“Rossi insists it’s for team morale.”

You laughed, leaning forward on your desk. “Aaron, if I approve this, what’s next? A hot tub in the break room? A second private jet for local cases?”

He gave you a long-suffering look. “I wouldn’t put it past Rossi to suggest either of those.”

Your laughter bubbled out again, and a small smile that tugged at Hotch’s lips. “You’re impossible,” he muttered.

“You mean brilliant,” you corrected, your tone playful. “Come on, admit it—you love these little matches.”

Hotch hesitated, just long enough for the moment to stretch between you. “I do.”

Your smirk softened into something more genuine. “Well, don’t get too comfortable, Hotchner. You might actually win one of these someday.”

“And if I do?”

Your grin turned sly again. “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

The tension between you and Hotch simmered like an unsaid promise, lingering in the spaces between your words and the way your eyes lingered just a beat too long. It wasn’t until another late night when the office was quiet and the shadows stretched long, that Hotch found himself once again at your door.

“You know,” you said as he stepped inside, “if you keep showing up here after hours, people are going to start talking.”

“Let them,” he said, surprising himself with the bluntness of his response.

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back in your chair. “That sounded suspiciously like flirting.”

“Did it?”

You smiled, slow and dangerous. “It did. And for the record, Aaron, I don’t mind.”

For once, Aaron Hotchner didn’t have a retort. Instead, he let the silence speak, the weight of it filled with possibilities he hadn’t dared entertain before.

And when you smiled at him again, he thought that maybe—just maybe—this was the start of something worth breaking the rules for.

Hotch stood frozen in the doorway for a moment longer than necessary, your words echoing in his mind. “For the record, Aaron, I don’t mind.”

He cleared his throat, stepping fully into your office and closing the door behind him. It wasn’t often that Aaron Hotchner found himself at a loss for words, but there was something about you—your sharp tongue, your disarming wit, the way you looked at him like you knew exactly what you were doing—that threw him off balance.

You leaned back in your chair, studying him with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “What brings you here this time? More cappuccino machine negotiations? Or did Rossi decide the bullpen needs a wine fridge?”

“Neither,” he said, his voice steady but quieter than usual. “I wanted to talk.”

“Oh, talk,” you said, your lips curving into a playful smile. “That sounds serious.”

“It is,” he admitted, surprising himself again with his own candor.

You arched an eyebrow, tilting your head slightly. “Alright, Aaron. You’ve got my attention. What’s on your mind?”

He hesitated, not because he didn’t know what to say, but because he wasn’t sure how far he was willing to let this go. The boundary between professional and personal was already blurred; one more step and it might vanish entirely. And yet, as you sat there watching him with that sly, confident smile, he found he didn’t care as much as he should have.

“You,” he said finally, the single word weighted with more meaning than he intended.

Your smile faltered for just a second, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. Then it was back, brighter and sharper than ever. “Well, that’s unexpected. Flattered, of course, but unexpected.”

He allowed himself a small smile, stepping closer to your desk. “I doubt anything surprises you.”

“Not often,” you admitted, leaning forward slightly. “But I’ll admit, I didn’t peg you as the type to make the first move.”

“Who says this is a move?”

You laughed, the sound warm and low. “Oh, Aaron. If this isn’t a move, then I’m very curious to see what one looks like.”

He didn’t answer right away, letting the silence hang between you like a challenge. Finally, he leaned forward, placing his hands on your desk, and met your gaze head-on.

“What if I am making a move?” he asked, his voice steady but tinged with something that made your breath catch.

For the first time since he’d met you, you seemed genuinely caught off guard. Your confident smirk wavered, replaced by a flicker of something more tentative. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, and it struck him in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

“Well,” you said after a beat, your voice quieter than before. “In that case, I’d say it’s about time.”

His heart thudded once, hard and unexpected, and for a moment, he forgot where he was. Forgot who he was. All he could think about was how close you were, how easy it would be to reach across the desk and close the distance.

But then you leaned back, your smile returning with a hint of mischief. “Of course, if this isn’t a move, I’d hate to embarrass myself.”

“Consider yourself safe,” he said, straightening but not stepping back. “For now.”

Your laughter filled the room again, light and teasing. “Careful, Aaron. I’m thinking you actually enjoy these little games.”

“I do,” he said, surprising himself once more with his honesty.

You tilted your head, studying him with a newfound intensity. “Well, in that case, I’ll make sure to keep things interesting.”

As he left your office that night, the air between you charged with unspoken tension, Aaron Hotchner realized something he hadn’t allowed himself to consider before: he wasn’t just drawn to you because of your sharp wit or your undeniable charm. He was drawn to you because you made him feel something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Alive.

The roundtable room was unusually quiet when Hotch gathered the team for an impromptu meeting. That should have been his first clue. They were always at their most dangerous when they were waiting for the hammer to drop.

“All right,” he began, standing at the head of the conference table. “We need to talk about the budget.”

Rossi leaned back in his chair, a smirk already forming. “This is about the cappuccino machine, isn’t it?”

“It’s not about the cappuccino machine,” Hotch said firmly. “Though that’s still off the table.”

“Good thing I didn’t submit the requisition for the margarita blender,” Morgan muttered, earning a stifled laugh from JJ.

Hotch gave him a pointed look before continuing. “We’ve been asked to cut back on end-of-year expenses. That means scaling back on travel accommodations for the next few cases.”

“Scaling back how?” Prentiss asked, her tone cautious.

“Fewer hotels,” Hotch said. “We’ll have to bunk up where possible.”

There was a collective groan around the table.

“Bunk up?” Garcia appeared in the doorway, her dramatic gasp signaling she’d overheard. “Do you mean to tell me we, the esteemed agents of the BAU, are being reduced to sharing rooms? What is this, a slumber party?”

“Garcia, you rarely travel with us. Would it kill you to share a room with JJ or Emily for a few nights, if and when you do?” Hotch asked, his tone dry.

“It’s not about me, sir,” Garcia replied, clutching her chest like he’d wounded her. “It’s about the principle. We’re public servants, heroes even. Heroes deserve better than twin beds and bad room service.”

“Twin beds?” Reid asked, looking genuinely horrified.

Morgan leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Come on, Hotch. We all know you’ve got an in with Y/N in finance. Can’t she pull some strings before Garcia does?”

Hotch’s jaw tightened, but he kept his expression neutral. “Y/N is doing her job, just like the rest of us.”

“Oh, is that what they’re calling it now?” Rossi said with a grin, earning a ripple of laughter from the team.

“Funny,” Hotch deadpanned. “But unless any of you have a better solution, this is how it’s going to be.”

“Sure, sure,” Morgan said, his grin widening. “But if anyone could sweet-talk Y/N, it’s you, Hotch. You’ve got that whole brooding, stoic charm thing going for you. She loves that.”

“I’m not sweet-talking anyone,” Hotch said, his tone clipped.

“Really?” Prentiss chimed in, raising an eyebrow. “Because rumor has it you’ve been spending a lot of time in her office lately.”

“That’s called managing the budget,” Hotch replied evenly, though his ears felt uncomfortably warm. “The budget we keep going over. Which is what I’m trying to do right now.”

“Right,” JJ said, her voice full of mock seriousness. “Managing the budget.”

The laughter around the table grew louder, and even Garcia joined in with an exaggerated wink.

Hotch sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This conversation is over.”

“But the bunking isn’t,” Rossi said, still grinning. “Good to know.”

Later, Hotch sat across from you, his tie slightly loosened after the long day. The hum of your sarcasm was already in the air, a comfort he’d never admit aloud.

“Back so soon?” you asked, glancing up from your tablet. “What’s the crisis this time? Let me guess—the team didn’t take kindly to the budgeting suggestion?”

“They had…questions,” Hotch replied, his tone dry. “And commentary.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you said, smirking as you leaned back in your chair. “Let me guess: Rossi wants to requisition a wine fridge instead of a cappuccino machine? Garcia--who if I remember correctly doesn’t even travel with the team--staged a protest? Or did Morgan suggest you charm me into pulling some strings?”

Hotch blinked, caught momentarily off guard. “Actually, yes. That’s almost word for word what he said.”

You laughed, the sound warm and far too satisfying. “I knew it. The whole team thinks I’m your budgetary fairy godmother, don’t they?”

“They’re not subtle about it,” he admitted, leaning forward slightly. “And if I’m honest, they’re starting to have…suspicions.”

Your eyebrows lifted, your smirk turning into a full-blown grin. “Oh, suspicions, huh? About what exactly?”

“That I might have an ‘in’ with you,” he said, his tone measured but carrying a hint of something wry. “And that I use it to get my way.”

You tilted your head, resting your chin on your hand. “Well, you do have an in with me, Aaron.”

“I do?” he asked, raising a brow.

“Mm-hmm,” you said, your grin widening. “You come in here all brooding and stoic, with that deep voice and those puppy-dog eyes, and I’m supposed to say no to you? Please.”

He let out a rare chuckle, low and brief. “So you’re saying you find me…persuasive?”

“I’m saying I find you irritating,” you replied, though the teasing lilt in your voice betrayed you. “But occasionally charming.”

“Occasionally?” he repeated, quirking an eyebrow.

“Don’t push your luck,” you said, though your smile hadn’t wavered. “Now, what exactly are you hoping I’ll do?”

Hotch straightened, slipping back into his professional demeanor. “The travel budget is tight. We need to cut back on some of the accommodations for the next few cases. If there’s any room to reallocate funds or find efficiencies, I’d like your input.”

You studied him for a moment, your pen tapping against the desk. “You know,” you said finally, “you could’ve just sent an email. But you didn’t, which means you wanted to have this conversation in person.”

“Maybe I thought it would be more effective,” he said, his voice steady.

“And maybe,” you said, leaning forward with a sly smile, “you just like spending time with me.”

Hotch’s gaze held yours, the tension between you thick enough to cut. “Maybe the team isn’t wrong to have their suspicions.”

That caught you off guard, and for the briefest moment, your confident grin faltered. Then you recovered, your smile turning soft around the edges. “Well, if you’re going to keep coming to me, Aaron, I guess I’ll have to live up to their expectations.”

“So you’ll help?” he asked, his voice quiet but steady.

You rolled your eyes, though your grin didn’t fade. “Of course, I’ll help. But only because I’d hate for Garcia to have to share a room on the rare chance she joined you on a trip. Can you imagine the drama?”

Hotch stood, his lips curving into a rare, genuine smile. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” you said, your tone playful. “I might make you owe me one.”

He paused at the door, glancing back at you. “I think I already do.”

Your laughter followed him out, and Hotch didn’t mind giving up a little control.

The next few weeks blurred into a whirlwind of cases, budget meetings, and what Hotch could only describe as a game of mutual teasing with you that he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to win. The team’s jabs about his “in” with you only got more relentless, but the truth was, they weren’t wrong. He found himself seeking out your company more often than he’d care to admit, and not just because of budgetary crises.

One evening, well after most of the team had gone home, Hotch walked into your office to find you perched on the edge of your desk, heels kicked off, and a pen tucked behind your ear as you typed furiously on your tablet.

“You work too much,” he said by way of greeting, leaning casually against the doorframe.

You glanced up, smirking. “Says the man who just came from his own office. What brings you here, Aaron? More budget drama? Or are you just here for the company?”

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “Would it be so bad if it were both?”

Your eyebrows lifted in surprise, but the smile that followed was slow and dangerous. “Well, well. Are you finally admitting that you like me?”

He hesitated for half a second before replying, his voice low but steady. “I think you already know I do.”

That made you pause. Your usual sharp wit seemed momentarily replaced by something softer, something vulnerable, before you quickly masked it with your trademark confidence. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you flirt before, Hotchner. You’re better at it than I expected.”

“I don’t flirt,” he said, stepping closer. “At least, not intentionally.”

“Oh,” you said, your voice dropping slightly. “So this is just you being your naturally charming self?”

“Something like that,” he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting in a faint smirk.

You laughed, shaking your head as you set your tablet aside. “You know, if you keep talking like that, I might start to think you’re actually serious.”

“What if I am?” he asked, taking another step closer.

Your grin faltered, replaced by a flicker of uncertainty. “Aaron…”

He stopped just in front of you, close enough that he could see the faintest flush on your cheeks. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he said quietly. “But I don’t regret it.”

You tilted your head, studying him as if trying to determine whether he was being sincere. Then, slowly, your lips curved into a soft, almost shy smile that he hadn’t seen before. “Well, that’s good,” you said, your voice lighter now. “Because I’d hate to think I’ve been wasting my time trying to get under your skin.”

“You’ve been very effective,” he admitted, his voice laced with dry humor.

You laughed again, the tension between you easing slightly. “Good to know.”

For a moment, the two of you simply stood there, the air between you charged with possibilities. Then you leaned forward just enough that your shoulder brushed his, your voice dropping to a near whisper. “So what now, Aaron? You going to keep playing it safe, or are you finally going to make a move and follow through?”

Hotch held your gaze, his pulse quickening in a way that was entirely unfamiliar and yet oddly welcome. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you replied, your grin returning.

Before he could overthink it, he leaned down, his hand resting lightly on the edge of your desk as his lips brushed against yours. The kiss was brief but electric, leaving both of you slightly breathless when he pulled back.

“Well,” you said after a moment, your voice a little unsteady but filled with warmth. “That’s one way to balance the budget.”

Hotch chuckled softly, his forehead resting lightly against yours. “I hope that’s not the only thing you take away from this.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you said, your grin turning wicked again. “I’ll send you the itemized breakdown tomorrow.”

He laughed, a rare, genuine sound, and as the two of you stood there in the quiet of your office, Hotch couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was exactly what he’d been missing.

The next morning, Hotch walked into the bullpen, his usual stoic demeanor firmly in place—at least on the outside. Inside, he felt lighter than he had in years. But any illusion of subtlety was shattered the moment he saw Morgan smirking at him from across the room.

“Morning, Hotch,” Morgan said, his tone far too casual. “You look…different today. Get a good night’s sleep?”

Hotch raised an eyebrow, choosing not to dignify the comment with a response. He made his way toward his office, but before he could escape, Garcia intercepted him, practically bouncing on her heels.

“Oh, boss man, you’ve got that look,” she teased, waggling her eyebrows. “The look of a man who’s either won the lottery or—” Her eyes widened in dramatic realization. “—had a life-altering, swoon-worthy moment with a certain someone in finance.”

Hotch sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Garcia—”

“Don’t deny it!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “I have sources.”

Before he could reply, the elevator dinged, and you stepped out, striding confidently into the bullpen with your signature blend of poise and sass. You caught Hotch’s eye and shot him a subtle, knowing smile that sent a ripple of warmth through him.

Garcia caught the exchange and gasped audibly. “Oh my God! It’s true!”

Morgan leaned back in his chair, grinning. “I knew it. Didn’t I say he had an in with her?”

“You said it,” Prentiss confirmed, her tone amused. “Repeatedly. But he's really getting it in with her.”

JJ just shook her head, smiling. “Well, at least we know why the budget meetings keep getting longer.”

Hotch leveled a calm, measured glare at his team. “I don’t recall calling a team meeting on my personal life.”

“Ah, but your personal life is so much more interesting than budget cuts,” Rossi said with a wink. “You should let us enjoy it.”

“I’m glad you’re all entertained,” Hotch said dryly, turning toward his office. But as he walked away, he caught your voice behind him.

“Don’t be too hard on them, Aaron,” you called amusement lacing your tone.

The laughter that followed was warm and genuine, and for once, Hotch didn’t mind being the subject of it. As he stepped into his office and closed the door, he glanced back at you through the glass, catching your playful smile once more.

Yes, this was definitely worth breaking the rules for.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

[niniiko]

Astrology Observations part 2

*not a professional astrologer these are just my personal observations!

SLIGHT TW!!!!

♠️ Taurus venus men usually like women who are on the curvier chubby side

♠️ People who have an 8th house lilith or even saturn sometimes feel guilty for their sexuality and many people also tend to make them feel guilty for being sexual, they often feel repressed

♠️ Nobody talks enough about how Virgo risings have an amazing face bone structure... I've noticed that their cheekbones are often prominent and their face features are so femenine

♠️ Aquarius placements and their unique voices? We can take as an example Jungwon of Enhypen and Rosé from Blackpink, i also noticed that when they sing they have this kind of nasal type of voice and it's so pleasant to hear (can also apply to people who have Aquarius over their 3rd house!)

♠️ Mars over the 6th house can give someone a VERY sensible skin (even allergies) Virgo also rules over the skin since its a Mercurial sign and if Mars is there the native could have a lot of issues with their skin. I have a friend who has this placement and she always has something going on with her skin 😭

♠️ People who have Moon in conjunction with Jupiter can be prone to over eating

♠️ Mercury square Saturn individuals often have a hard time expressing their love through words, they cringe at the idea of doing it

♠️ Libra placements (specially Mercuries) don't shy away from talking about current issues when it comes to politics, injusticies etc... They have very clear ideas and know how to send across their message

♠️ Whatever house Neptune falls into is where people tend to copy you the most:

1st house: your appearance, the way you dress, your energy

2nd house: your material possesions, the things you buy, your finances

3rd house: your personality, internet persona, the way you talk

4th house: your house furniture

5th house: your romantic partners, your vibe

6th house: your daily routines, your connections with people

7th house: your romantic partners, your clothes, your beauty

8th house: your depth, your way of thinking

9th house: the places you travel to, your ideas

10th house: your career choice, your skills

11th house: your friendships, your connections, your popularity, your goals

12th house: your spiritual side, the way you see things in a unique way

♠️ Leo placements like to show off their partners and making sure EVERYONE knows they have a partner, i have some leo placements friends and they are always posting their partners, i think it's very cute

♠️ Pluto in the 2nd house individuals (specially if they also have Taurus placements because Taurus rules the neck and throat) have some sexy and deep voices . . . they also tend to be very possesive 🤣

♠️ If a woman has her Mars in conjunction with her Sun chances are she looks very much like her dad, a friend of mine has this placement and she inherited her dads height and she looks so much like her dad

♠️ Having 12th synastry with someone is beautiful and painful at the same time, specially if personal planets are in there like the moon for example, if your moon falls in their 12th house it's probable that you have a more than physical connection with that person, even if you guys are not together you might still dream of them or viceversa, a very hard to forget connection

♠️ Someone with a lot of Air and Fire placements might be into dancing or doing some sort of creative and artistic stuff

♠️ Air mars's are the real masterminds . . . 💅🏻

Thanks for reading! I wanna thank the people who have interacted with my post, it was my first astrology observations post and I've been learning astrology for just a year and seeing how many people have agreed and rebbloged my post made me very happy 🥹 My intuition told me to post one and after some days of hesitating I decided to upload my personal observations and im glad I did! Anyways, thank you so much I love you always 🤍

[ironunderstands]

Topaz appreciation post because she’s been rotating around my brain like a rotisserie chicken and I need y’all to get her like I do 

Genuinely, I believe her to be the most underrated limited 5 star in the game everything wise, because she is so damn interesting and nobody talks about it ever and it drives me nuts.

So, I’m going to make you understand why exactly I love her and what makes her so amazing in the first place.

Her lore 

Topaz’s lore is rather simple, at least compared to other characters in the game, but simple ≠ bad and her story serves her perfectly.

Long before Topaz was Topaz, she was a girl named Jelena, living in a desolate planet at the edge of the galaxy. The economy of this planet was based around mining and industry, which resulted in her home becoming more and more polluted as time went on. The wildlife almost completely disappeared, people had to wear masks to breathe, and it seemed like her planet was reaching a hopeless, dismal end.

Until the IPC came. They promised to fix everything, and heal her planet of its environment problems, in exchange for every person on the planet signing a contract of indentured servitude to the IPC. Seeing no other way out, Topaz’s home accepted, forever tying her and the rest of the planet to the IPC.

Topaz is was (and still is) incredibly talented and competent, excelling in science, economics, finances, math, etc. Her exceptional talents caused her mentor  and parental figure Dvorski, who works in the Strategic Investment Department to recommend her to Jade, one of his superiors. Presumably, this is how she started her climb up the corporate latter, eventually becoming the Topaz we know and love today. 

Throughout this, she maintained her friendly and headstrong attitude, and never abandoned her love for animals or the people in her life like Dvorski, a trait which will be important for later. 

So, I’ve established the basics, so what makes this interesting?

Topaz’s trauma and how it affects her character 

I feel like a lot of people ignore just how much trauma she really has, and how it affects the way she behaves in the present.

For starters, her love of animals. Sure, Numby is adorable and in general this is a rather fun trait for a character to have, it’s not something you would consider to be a sign of something darker. 

However, remember that Topaz’s planet almost lost all of the life on it, and she witnessed firsthand almost every creature she knew and loved either go extinct or become severely endangered. 

So, when you view her love for animals through this lense, it’s easy to see that she’s so attached to animals because Topaz almost lost them forever, and this trait manifests in a lot of the behavior she exhibits.

According to Topaz herself, her efficiency goes up 27% when Numby is with her, and it seems to be blatantly obvious that being around animals give her at the very least a peace of mind/sense of comfort. I mean in game she is Topaz and Numby for a reason, and her relationship with them is a core part of the way she behaves. When Topaz can’t ground herself, she has Numby to help her with that, which hurts even more considering she is likely going on these missions alone 90% of the time, meaning her literal only friend is a pet/animal. 

Considering Topaz’s biological parents never get mentioned, it’s not hard to assume she is orphaned or at the very least estranged from them, likely due to the disaster on her planet, leaving her only loved ones to be her pets and Dvorski. Losing one half of the only support system she has would be devastating for Topaz, which is likely why she brings Numby everywhere (also considering I don’t think she has mentioned him in the present, her pets might literally be the only things she has left). 

In her own home, Topaz collects a myriad of species from across the galaxy, as if to preserve them so at least even if they disappear on their home planets like hers did, they won’t go extinct entirely. 

Personally, I think her fixation around them cooperating and coexisting also reflects on how she feels about other people. If animals from completely different planets can get along, so can people. If she can convince creatures lacking in intellect work together, then she can do the same for ones that possess it, as ultimately Topaz is a massive people person, and believes what she’s doing is best for the galaxy. 

It’s almost like an experiment, with every little change to their ecosystems, every new organism added, every new abiotic feature taken or removed, Topaz can simulate what that might be like in reality. In a way she wants to take care of humans  like she does her pets, however instead of doing it through her own means, she uses the IPC and her power as a Stoneheart as a vector for that.

But why is she so confident? What makes Topaz wholeheartedly believe that what she’s doing really is the best for the galaxy, even if we know it isn’t perfect, even if only ~80% of the planets she works on are “saved”?

Well, like always, it’s her trauma again.

Imagine you’re living on a planet slowly dying due to its people’s greed and ignorance, in which everything you know and love is falling apart, and absolutely nothing can be done about it. But you don’t need to imagine this, I mean this is a situation we are all going through, as it’s already what’s happening to our planet right now, so perhaps instead picture what it might be like to live here in a few decades if nothing changes. How miserable that would be, how upset you would be at those in power, how disappointed you would be in humanity for doing Nothing when we had so much time and already knew the consequences almost a century in advance (seriously we have known about climate change since like the 50s). 

So you give up hope and accept your fate, accept that everything is going down in flames and the humanity, the planet you know and love is going to be snuffed out forever.

Only to get saved when an outside influence comes to your assistance. Sure, they make everyone sign a contract binding their lives to them, but you wouldn’t have a life to give had they not helped. Besides, you owe it to every other thing that shares your planet with you, every plant, every animal, every organism has been utterly wiped out by human greed, so it’s only fair to pay them back, right? 

I mean it’s your whole world at stake, so how could you say no? How could you deem their terms unreasonable if clearly your own people didn’t deserve the responsibility they had over their own lives? If their situations could only be fixed by giving it to others who could guide them? By giving it to the IPC? The Preservation ?

This is the mindset Topaz grew up on and has known for her entire life. She has seen humanity utterly fail itself and is unwilling to allow that fate to befall others. She doesn’t trust other people to make the right decisions, she doesn’t think they know what’s best for them, because the people she was closest to, her very own people couldn’t do that, so how could she ever expect strangers to do the same? 

How could she ever give the leaders of these planets the benefit of the doubt, knowing that doing that for her own almost caused it to be wiped out completely? How could she see them as anything more than the selfish bastards who ruined everything? How could her heart not ache thinking there were people on the planets she helps who would be doomed to experience the fate that almost fell upon her had Topaz not stepped in. 

How could Topaz feel guilty over the planets that don’t succeed? The ones she can’t save? As after all, she thinks they were lost from the get go? Does it eat her up at night knowing she failed them? That she couldn’t prevent the folly of humanity this time, so the next planet she must work harder, be more stubborn, push back even more, so nobody ever experiences what she did instead?

I mean being an indentured servant hasn’t been that bad for her, she’s succeeded in every endeavor she’s set her mind to after all. Sure, she’s entirely alone, and sure, if the IPC no longer deems her or her people useful, they could cast them aside once again. 

But Topaz is smart, she climbed to the top of the latter, she’s been praised to hell and back, she’s known far and wide through the department for her efficiency and drive, surely she hasn’t done anything wrong?

Sure she’s heard whispers, rumors and projects of other departments, of the deep dark secrets of the company she owes her life too. Inwardly she wonders how those who follow the Preservation would even be willing to commit such atrocities, inwardly she hopes they are just rumors. The IPC saved her planet, so how could they destroy others? 

The Preservation’s power will protect all, will save them from their miserable existences. Nothing else matters in the process, no dissenter understands this as like Topaz does. She will save them, she will protect them, even if it means she is detested by everyone she encounters, it must be done. All for the Amber Lord.

I find it very compelling how despite the fact that Topaz has become a Stoneheart, she is still dressed in the fashion of an average IPC worker. As if she is an equal part of the puzzle as them. Equally useful, equally disposable, equally biased, equally ignorant, and equally foolish. 

I mean, how could she be anyway else?

Her future

Belabog was just as important for Topaz’s development as she was to it.

She was wrong. 

As stubborn as Topaz is, she is not arrogant, and when Bronya proved to her that the people of Belabog can and would fight for their future, Topaz did everything in her power to help them.

As that’s what she really cares about, people. 

I think Topaz the determination she has in Bronya and it shook her to her core. 

Because so far, the only way Topaz has seen real progress is from the hands of the IPC.

But Bronya doesn’t give into them, and she puts everything she has into saving her people. Moreover, Jarilo-VI follows the Preservation as well, but they don’t agree with the IPC’s method of it. 

Is the IPC wrong?

That is the question Topaz is faced with, what is the thing she has to grapple with once she leaves the planet. When they demote her for not getting the debt back immediately, does Topaz wonder why they were so concerned about that in the first place? Shouldn’t they be happy that a world blessed by their very own deity managed to pick itself up without their help? Isn’t that the point?

Does she think back to her previous projects, the planets she saved and the planets she failed, and wonder how it would have worked out without the IPCs involvement? 

Did Aventurine teasing her about “failing” the Jarilo-VI project confuse her, because they were still saved like Topaz wanted them to be in the first place? How could they ever be considered a failure?

She believes debts and payback are what holds planets together, but it only ever seemed to cause Belabog to fall apart.

This is the first time Topaz really is forced to reevaluate her priorities, to question if her methods are justifiable, if she’s really doing the right thing.

Belabog didn’t break her, it didn’t topple her worldview and turn everything on its head, but it did plant some seeds of doubt in her brain, seeds of doubt that will grow into a new mindset. 

HOYOVERSE IF YOU ARE LISTENING HOYOVERSE, GIVE HER THE MENTAL BREAKDOWN + PRIORITY REEVALUATION ARC SHE DESERVES!!! DO THAT AND MY LIFE IS YOURS PLEASE.

Like you don’t get it you don’t get it what do you mean they set all this up and they might not go anywhere with it. Please hoyo please please please let her break away from the IPC’s condition and warped perspective, please let her truly follow the Preservation, please make her turn away from them, please make her an emanator of Preservation after she does this. Topaz stoneheart form, Topaz emanator form. Please please please let her save the crew let her save her subordinates let her save the people she failed previously let her save Aventurine and Ratio let her save Numby let her save herself.

Her instability 

I have already somewhat touched on this in point #3, but Topaz just cannot exist in the state she is now permanently.

Like a radioactive element she’s going to slowly decay over time until she ends up in a more stable form, and who that will hurt in the process, and how long that will take, we will have to see.

Hypocrisy is not something that can exist for long within characters, as due to its inherent contradictions, it messes with the way they are characterized until they are eventually forced to either eliminate it themselves or have the story do it for them.

Topaz is a hypocrite, desiring to do good and help people, but she ends up hurting them in the process. 

However, she has only just begun to realize this, and as more and more of the IPC’s atrocities get revealed, it gets harder and harder for both the audience and her herself to justify her behavior as we witness the extent of their crimes.

So how has she remained this stable for so long?

Well, the IPC has done everything in their power to keep her that way. From a young age she was involved with them, as they not only saved her planet, but her only known parental figure worked in the Strategic Investment Department. Soon, he recommended her to Jade due to Topaz’s exceptional talent, and presumably the other Stoneheart quickly picked her up and took her under her wing, causing Jelena to rise fast within the ranks and become one herself.

The IPC has been Topaz’s only frame of reference for how things should be done, her only perspective on write and wrong for so long. The only hints she gets of other points of view are that of the people who destroyed her planet, her own people. Unintentional or not, Topaz has been made to feel her whole life like the IPC are heroes and the common people are foolish and greedy and evil, and only now has that worldview started to crumble piece by piece.

Sure, we have always known how terrible the IPC was, a perception that has only gotten more and more true over time. However, Topaz is not the audience, and in universe the IPC presents themselves in a very positive light.

Think of the Myriad Celestia trailer and how it portrays the IPC; that’s quite literally how they want to be viewed in game, how they market themselves to other people. If Topaz has only ever known them to be that great, shining, progressive company who vows to follow the Preservation and improve the universe, how could even begin to criticize them? After all, she had never known any other perspective. Even when she did fail in the past, Topaz viewed it as a strike on her own record and an unfortunate situation in general, not as a demonstration of the IPC’s misdeeds. 

The IPC is good, the IPC saves people, the IPC follows the Preservation, Topaz is a good person, Topaz does good things, Topaz helps people, Topaz saves people, there is nothing wrong, there won’t ever be anything wrong.

Until Belabog

They don’t want to cooperate with the IPC. To roll over and let themselves be gutted for all they are worth. 

Well that’s fine, that’s happened before, at least that’s how Topaz justifies it to herself. She thinks of their massive debt, it must be paid after all, otherwise how could the galaxy remain stable?

But the weapons the IPC gave Jarilo-VI were never used in its defense. The thing they owe the IPC for never ended up being valuable. Belabog stood on its own, without the help of IPC in its defense.

They saved themselves.

As if it couldn’t get worse, they did it with the power of the Preservation.

And it didn’t come from the IPC, it came from them.

The Interastral Peace Corporation, who claim to be followers of the Preservation, standing against people who really do have their blessing and being proved wrong.

Do you know how that would feel to Topaz.

She’s wrong, and she’s proven wrong by the very deity she claims to follow, she believes she follows.

So Topaz makes her choice.

Stick with the IPC’s plan, or stand with the people of Belabog 

And she stands with them.

Topaz’s character never changes. I hate when people act like she switched up on them and changed her whole worldview, but in reality that was the most in character thing Topaz has ever done in her entire life.

Because she cares about people, so when the opportunity presents itself, she will always stand with them. 

This is the first time Topaz goes against the IPC’s wishes, and it won’t be the last.

She made her choice, she demonstrated who and what she truly cares about, and that will only drive a wedge between her and the IPC further and further until she snaps.

I find it funny how Topaz is a fire type character, when the song core to Belabog’s themes is “Wildfire” 

However, maybe it isn’t just about them. I think it’s about the Preservation, about what the game in general is trying to tell its players.

How fighting for your right to exist will hurt, but it is not impossible, and that pain will be the only way to enact change.

Well, Topaz,

you made your choice

go fight against your fate 

Thank you so much for reading! I really enjoyed making this and I hope you at least understand why I think Topaz is such a compelling character. I need an arc centered on her in the future and if I don’t get one then trust me things will be dealt with. She will get her just desserts.

[bluee08]

Astro Observations 《2》

Disclaimer : I am not an astrologer so please take these observations with a grain of salt. Plus I have noticed, I ranted a lot here so please bear with me. It's only for fun.

♦️ Mercury could indicate what kind of genre/content you like to read. For example:

Mercury in Taurus/2nd – Cookbook, rom-com, finance, fashion magazines.

Mercury in Leo/5th – Children's story books, Tales, quizzes, riddles, Adventures books.

Mercury in libra/7th – Romance novels, fashion magazines, pamphlets, brochures.

Mercury in Scorpio/8th – Non-fiction, Thrillers, mystery, smut.

Mercury in Sagittarius/9th – Encyclopedia, Rom-adventure, historical books, Atlas.

Mercury in Pisces/12th – Spiritual books, inspirational, Autobiographies.

♥️ Pluto in 11th house is a big Best friend crisis placement, if you ask me. In this, you can never be anyone's only bestfriend and no one can be your bestfriend. Friends are a lessons in your life. They come, you transform each other in some way, they go. Nobody stays long enough. Their definition of best friends is tricky, because– "We have known each other for 6 years but we haven't talked since 3 years, are we still besties?" To these people, Instead of feeling betrayed or petty, accept it and move on.

♦️ People with Asteroid hobby in their 11th house might like to do coding or other technical work. Technology and social media plays a major role when they are free. They might even share their hobbies with others on social platforms.

♥️ No matter what the reputation says, Sagittarius venus are the most hardcore lovers. They also don't mind a bit of possessiveness in the relationship. When I say possessiveness, they don't want to hear how you will lock them up in a castle for the rest of their life if they try to run away from you. Whereas, that might be a fantasy for some but its not for Sag venus. They will purposely take the next immediate flight and be gone for good. What they actually want to hear is how you will chase them to the moon and back. And no matter where they go, you will always be there to embrace them with your open arms. All we Sagittarius people need is to feel grounded not caged.

♦️ Asteroid Lie aspecting Neptune could make very imaginative and fluent liars. Sometimes it won't make any sense but you will still believe them because they lie with such a honesty and projection that you are forced to doubt your own judgment. Their lies are very descriptive and they make them on the spot. They appear dreamy as if they are not lying but living their own reality. Sometimes it comes handy to them but sometimes it backfires when they forget what they lied about for no reason.

♥️ Aquarius Rising got nothing on Uranus conjuct ascendant. Look, I get that Aquarius is ruled by Uranus but honestly I can't relate to the stereotype when they say Aquarius risings have a unique fashion sense. Being a Aquarius rising and having Uranus in first house I personally think it fits the Uranus conjuct ascendant more. Yes, I like to stand out but my fashion sense is not that unique. I like it different but simple. My brother has a 12th house Uranus conjuct ascendant and he is a uranian more than me. He wears the most unconventional outfits at very wrong timings. He has a very unique fashion sense and he remains fixated on it until the last moment. Man... and he still pulls it off effortlessly. I could never do that.

♦️ Asteroid Sharp (5426) true to its name could indicate the area of your life where you excel the most and are quite attentive. You also learn and grasp those parts quickly. For example: Asteroid Sharp in Aquarius means you are good with electronics,technology, innovating things. In 2nd house could mean you handle money matters very well. In 10th house, you make profitable business deals, bargains and have a good eye when it comes to trading something.

♥️ Have you seen a Mars in 4th house getting angry? They are never angry. Well, never angry enough to be angry. But be careful just because they are not saying anything for the past twenty minutes while you are chewing their head off doesn't mean they are calm. It means either you are someone they can't cross with for the time being or they are thinking of hundred ways to kill you without getting into jail. Good luck bby, these people are damn calculative and smart. They will let you walk all over them for a moment but later.... oh boy you will not even realize what hit you. And trust me, they will have a strong alibi.

♦️Venus in 10th house 🤝 Get them a man/woman with financial stability. They themselves prefer to be independent and classy in a relationship. But no matter what financial stability is a must for them. Maybe not the first but definitely one of the top priorities.

♥️ Virgo Mars people are really fond of ropes, handcuffs, belts, elastic things and all. Idk why my brother keeps checking their strength when he encounters them. Hmm...sus

♦️ Saturn in 1st house could mean you were forced to grow up too early. You had many responsibilities on your shoulders at a young age and faced a lot of difficulties expressing your weaknesses. You might also be the person in the family who is looked upon and respected the most. No decision is taken without your consultation because you are considered to be the wisest of all.

♥️ Pluto in 3rd house, don't tell me your school life was easy. Either you failed a subject, were bullied for no reason, had abusive teachers, teachers who always picked upon you, unstable attendance or your family could hardly afford your studies.

♦️Scorpio/8th house Mars and their gazes. God, please don't stare at me like that. I get chills. There was this girl in my class. She used to stare at people a lot, that too bluntly. We thought she was creepy. But later after knowing her, she turned out to be really sweet and pretty decent girl.

♥️ Moon in 3rd house, very very curious people. They need to know everything there is in this world until they are emotionally satisfied. My 8 year old cousin asked me where do babies come from? She also added, don't say from God.

♦️I don't know about other Pisces placements but Pisces venus, they do have a thing for foot. Trust me on this, I had a deep conversation about this topic with my cousin who is a Pisces venus and because I didn't want to go with stereotype judgment, I had to make sure it was true. But it can vary from person to person tho.

♥️ Saturn in 2nd house people could come from a poor household or used to be financially unstable. But trust me it doesn't stay this way throughout. They usually face many difficulties with money until they don't at all. Karma always pays off and most of the times they live a very satisfied life. Very down to earth people. They don't fear poverty either.

♦️8th house Virgo are suckers for hygiene and perfection. But can be quite freaky in bed. Or the complete opposite of both. They can also have a guilty conscience after sex or masturbation.

♥️ Chiron in Capricorn/10th house can be very hard on themselves. These people often feel incompetent when it comes to their professional life. They can be insecure and anxious if things don't go their way. For them being unemployed is much worse than being heartbroken and it can be destroying.

♦️ Saturn in 6th house placements have an unimaginable disturbed mental health. They don't show and it seems as if no one sees it either. They pretend that everything is okay and no one can tell that it is not. Sometimes they are not even capable to share because people around them make them feel as if they are not supposed to. They often feel restricted when it comes to their emotions.

♥️ Now this is kinda funny but I have noticed some of the people having Sagittarius in fifth house or prominent Sagittarius/Gemini placements come off very lively and enthusiastic when it comes to kids. They also have a thing for irritating kids in a funny way to the point they start crying. Then they laugh it off.

[burningembers91]

Looking Up - Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Outside Looking In

In the Bleak Midwinter

Without You

Synopsis: Desperate to start afresh and build a life for the both of you, Nam-Gyu searches for a new job. But, with no qualification and no experience, will anyone take a chance on him?

A/N: I saw this gif and it instantly made me think of his itchy interview suit i’d pictured 🥹

Nam-Gyu’s suit was itchy, the fabric pinching at his skin as he sat in the waiting area. His tie was too tight, the uncomfortable compression around his neck making him squirm in his seat. He wasn’t sure why he’d let his brother talk him into borrowing his old suit; it was poorly fitting and the beige colour did nothing for him.

But Nam-Gyu had been desperate, and had nowhere else to turn. You’d been living together for two months now, both of you searching for different jobs that would hopefully lead to better prospects and more money. You’d manage to find a job in a florist, and although it paid almost as poorly as the hostess job, you were so happy. It was what you’d always wanted to do, and your boss was incredible.

Nam-Gyu had decided to take his father’s advice and find a proper job, something in insurance or finance. He’d always been so scared of having a “normal” job, so terrified of becoming another nobody. But he didn’t feel like that anymore; not with you. You made him feel like he could do anything, and for the first time in his life he was happy to blend peacefully into the background. He had you, and you were all he needed.

He’d been looking for jobs for weeks but had been turned down at every corner. He had no real experience, and had never stepped foot inside an office before. This junior finance assistant job was quite probably his last chance, otherwise he’d have to go searching for a job as a waiter. He wanted a job that could support you, that could relieve some of the financial stress you were both under. He’d been awake most of the night thinking about this interview, and as he sat waiting his palms were sweating.

His parents hadn’t spoken to him since the night they kicked him out. Nam-Gyu was hoping that if he got this job he could show his father how hard he’d been working, that he’d finally decided to grow up. He really wanted them to meet you as well, to meet the girl he’d fallen head over heels for. His brothers had met you, and while they would never admit it to Nam-Gyu, they thought you were perfect for him. You grounded their little brother, kept him stable but at the same time made him happier than they had ever seen him. He was an entirely different person around you, no longer cocky and brash, but sweet and gentle. You two were made for each other.

“Park Nam-Gyu?”

His head snapped up at his name to see a woman in a sharp suit eyeing him through a doorway.

“We’re ready for you now.”

Heading into the interview room, he tried to swallow his nerves, wiping his sweaty hands on his itchy suit. A group of two men and one woman sat opposite him, their faces stony as he sat down. His throat suddenly felt impossibly dry, his lungs no longer seemed to work. He couldn’t take a full breath, and he was desperate for a glass of water.

“Tell us a bit about yourself,” one of the men said. “Do you have any experience in finance or accounting?”

“Uh… well…” Nam-Gyu knew the interview was over before it had even begun. He had no experience of anything other than standing out in the cold handing out leaflets that nobody wanted. He’d been rejected for every job he’d applied for, and he knew this one wouldn’t be any different. So what did he have to lose?

“No, not as such.” He admitted. “I was a club promoter for many years. I spent most of my time trying to attract customers to different venues around Seoul.”

“And were you successful?” The woman asked, her razor sharp eyebrow raised high.

“For the most part,” he lied. He wasn’t going to make himself look like a complete idiot.

“So why the change of career?” She asked him.

“Well,” he smiled as he pictured you. “I fell in love. I didn’t think I ever would but I’ve met someone I want to spend the rest of my life with, and that means I need a job; a real job.”

He couldn’t tell how the rest of the interview went. He wasn’t able to answer any accounting related questions, but they asked him lots of questions about his life in general.

He had a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach as he made his way home, eager to shed the uncomfortable suit.

“How did it go?” You squealed, as soon he came through the front door. You’d been a bag of nerves all day, checking your phone every two minutes in case he’d texted you.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, hastily removing his suit jacket and pants. “I was honest and told them I didn’t have experience.”

You could sense his frustration, and you wished there was something you could do to help him. He’d been working so hard the last few months, studying accountancy books he picked up at the library, staying up until the early hours of the morning apply for jobs. You wished someone would take a chance on him, to see the hard worker he was.

The two of you spent the rest of the day on the sofa with the TV playing a show neither of you could concentrate on. Nam-Gyu kept checking his phone, refreshing his email every five minutes to see if anything had come through. With each passing minute, his hope waned. No one was going to take a chance on him; not that he blamed them. There was a cafe down the road that was looking for part time workers. He’d head there tomorrow and fill out an application.

It was late when his phone rang, the two of you half asleep in front of the TV. Nam-Gyu shot up at the sound, noticing a number on the screen he wasn’t familiar with.

“Oh my god! It could be them!” You cried, “answer it! Answer it!”

You clapped your hand over your mouth to stay silent, the nervous excitement almost bursting out of you.

“Hello?” He answered the phone, his voice shaking.

“Park Nam-Gyu, this is Kim Ha-Ri from the interview today. I’m just calling because we’d like to offer you the job.”

Nam-Gyu couldn’t speak for a few moments. He’d been so sure he hadn’t got it, was so sure he’d been passed over that he didn’t know what to say.

“Mr Park? Can you hear me?”

“Y-yes,” he stammered, shooting you a quick thumbs up, his face beaming. “That’s incredible, thank you much.”

“Can you start tomorrow? 8am?”

“Absolutely! Thank you so much, I’ll see you then.”

The call ended and he breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, finally things were starting to come together.

“I’m so proud of you,” you smiled, pulling him close to you. “You just watch. It’s only up from here, I promise.”

Nam-Gyu was determined to make this new job a turning point. He was going to make good money, find a new place for you both to live that wasn’t cramped and damp, save up enough that he could take you on holiday. He wanted to show his parents that he had changed, that he was capable of becoming a son they could be proud of.

For the first time in months, you both slept soundly, the prospect of a new life so close you could almost touch it.

[soapsilly]

Bad Memories - Roronoa Zoro Imagine

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Spoilers for One Piece (?)

Summary: (Y/N), a black market dealer, begrudgingly joins the Straw Hats after having to admit to herself that a strong crew would help her reach her goal faster. However, being on a ship with the pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro brings back some old memories she'd rather not be reminded of.

Requests are closed

************************************************************************

"Oooooh, what is this?", Luffy reached out to the mysterious object that was displayed on one of the countless shelfs.

"If you touch it, you buy it", (Y/N) spoke up from where she was leaned over the counter, trying to figure out what it was the cyborg wanted from her.

Franky needed a very specific tool to modify parts of the Sunny. A tool he didn't have and didn't necessarily could get easily as it was classified as marine technology.

"That's a very unusualy request you got there", she furrowed her brows.

Nami knew what that meant - when vendors said something along those lines what they usually meant was 'that's gonna be price-y', but the red-head prided herself in being a pro in haggling down any price however high it may be.

"Listen, I know what that means. I also know that that's bullshit. So you better make us a good price because we're going to get that piece one way or another", the navigator tapped her finger against the counter top.

"Oh, that's not what I meant", the dealer shrugged, "I literally meant nobody ever asks me for those things. Most people don't even know they exist. I'm not trying to get rich here, however, I will get a reasonable price for it or you can go and find the tools you need somewhere else"

While the two were talking finance, Franky was already tinkering around with the newly attained pieces and Luffy was doing god knows what.

"Is that a Devil Fruit??", Luffy's voice reached them from somewhere out of the depths of the storage room.

"Yes, do you want it? I'll make you a good price", the dealer yelled back.

Within seconds the Rubberman was at their sides again.

"YES! Nami, please can we? Usopp would love that! Or Chopper!"

"Chopper already has a devil fruit power!", the red-head yelled back.

"Oh. Right. Then for Usopp!"

While the two of them startet arguing about whether or not they'd need another 'idiot' with devil fruit powers on the team a tall blonde guy almost kicked in the door to (Y/N)'s storage.

"We need to leave! The stupid marimo started a fight in the city and now a bunch of marines are here-", it seemed like the man wanted to say some more but stopped talking once he saw the woman behind the counter, "Oh, beautiful lady! Mon Amour! My name is Sanji and I'm-"

"Wait let me get this right... some dumbass from your crew starts a fight with the marines and the first thing you do IS RUN BACK TO MY WAREHOUSE?!", the dealer was furious, "You need to leave. Now!"

(Y/N) started to frantically pack together the most important things, so that once the marines should really try to barrel down her front door, she'd be set to make a swift exit out the back.

"Just come with us!", the Straw Hat exclaimed happily, "you have so much great stuff here! Having someone on the crew who can find all those things would be so cool"

"No", her voice was icy, "I've known you for thirty minutes and you already put my livelyhood at risk. I think I'll pass" - that there was a whole nother reason the dealer didn't want to join the notorious pirate crew, she decided to keep to herself.

From outside the voices and footsteps from what (Y/N) could only imagine were dozens and dozens of marines grew louder.

"We need to leave", Nami commanded, "Sanji take her stuff"

"Of course, Nami-swan~", the blonde did as he was told and grabbed the huge sack filled with all kinds of things from the dealers hands. Not a minute too late as there there was a loud knocking that disrupted the womans attempts of resistance.

The Straw Hat as well as the Cyborg already adopted their fighting stance when the navigator held them back yet again. (Y/N) asked herself, who it actually was that was in charge here, but she didn't mind as she wasn't particularly eager to have a battle with god knows how many marines in a confined space.

"Is there another way out?", she turned to (Y/N).

"Follow me"

************************************************************************

Once outside all they had to do was to leave the place without making a fuss - a task seemingly unmanagable for Monkey D. Luffy. They weren't even 30 feet away from the warehouse when Luffy's loud voice could be heard all over the place.

"Oi, those aren't even that many. We could've taken them!" - followed by the even louder 'clunk' that Nami's fist made when it made impact with his skull.

"Shut up and just run!", she yelled at him. And they did. Every now and then a low ranking marine officer would catch up with them but either Franky or Luffy or even sometimes (Y/N) herself would take care of that. It was when one of the captains came dangerously close to them that they had to worry.

When (Y/N) started to notice the blonde guy fall behind, struggling with carrying her belongings and fighting off the marines at the same time, she realized that those things needed to go.

"Hey! Drop the sack! It's slowing you down", she yelled over at him.

"No, no! It's fine!", he yelled back, "I only fight with my legs anyways! Your belongings are safe with me"

"Doesn't matter. Drop it. It's not worth the risk", she insisted.

"Are you sure?", Nami sounded shocked, "I saw what you had in the shop. That stuff is worth a fortune! Sanji, don't you dare!"

"I don't care!", the dealer yelled back, "I'll get new stuff. If it makes you happy, you can keep whatever you can carry. Drop. The. Sack!"

For a moment the tall man hesitated but then did as he was told. As soon as he dropped the added weight, he immediately spun into a roundhouse kick, hitting an approaching opponent directly in the head to give the group time to bring some space between them and their followers. When (Y/N) stopped abruptly and started running back to where her things were scattered around Nami was almost sure the other woman had come to her senses but (Y/N) went straight past the incredibly expensive looking jewelry, the intricate tools and even the devil fruit, that Luffy was begging Nami for. Instead she was frantically sorting through the depth of the now half-empty sack.

"What are you doing?", Nami screamed at her, "whatever you're looking for you better find it quick!"

The marines were quickly catching up but (Y/N) still hasn't found what she was looking for.

"Hah! Found it", she yelled but as she was getting up she came face to face with the vice-admiral. However, she didn't even have the time to react or make a game plan as a fist whizzed past her, sending the marine flying. As soon as the fist appeared, it disappeared again. (Y/N) had heard about the Straw Hat Luffy's rubber abilities but she never would've guessed that they'd save her ass one day. She didn't allowe herself the time to dwell on it as she was sure that this punch would merely slow the captain down.

When they finally reached the ship the rest of the crew was already waiting for their mates. As soon as everybody had boarded the Thousand Sunny, as (Y/N) had found out the ship was called, the cyborg used a maneuver called coup de burst, which catapulted them to safety.

Once everything settled down, it was time for the crew to introduce themselves.

"Oi, everybody! This is...", Luffy trailed off once he realized that he had no idea what the girl's name was.

"Oh um.. it's (Y/N)"

"Guys, this is (Y/N) and she's going to join our crew"

(Y/N) furrowed her brows, "I'm not! You saved me back there and I'm thankful but you're also the reason I was in that situation to begin with. So I think it evens out. Just drop me off on the next island or... just... anywhere is fine...", she grew quiet towards the end.

"What? No! Our crew is great I promise! We'll find the One Piece and I'll be pirate king!"

"I don't care", she really didn't want to be there.

But Luffy wasn't know for his ability to take no for an answer. And so he kept throwing new points and arguments at her to make her change her mind. She didn't know what it was that did the trick in the end. Was it his determination? Or the things she's read and heard about the crew? The things they already accomplished? She simply didn't know. What she did know, however, was that reaching her goal would become much easier with some powerful allies by her side.

"Great", Luffy sounded happy, "so let me introduce you to everybody. You already know Nami. She's our navigator. That cool cyborg is Franky. He's our shipwright. This", he pointed towards the tall guy, that Nami had called Sanji before, "is Sanji. He makes the best food you've ever eaten"

"What's your favourite meal (Y/N)-san? I'll cook it especially for you tonight - to celebrate you joining us. Another beautiful lady on the ship ~"

(Y/N) was a little unsure how to react to the cook's advances but sent him a polite smile regardless.

"Don't worry, he's always like this. You'll get used to it", Nami assured her, "and if you're smart, you'll even figure out how to use it to your advantage", she sent the other woman a wink.

The black market dealer didn't get to answer though as Luffy continued. (Y/N) largely drowned out the words - like the ship's doctor insulting their captain for calling him a good one or the sceleton man asking her for the colour of her panties. She'd get to know them soon enough anyways.

"So and that's - "

"The pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro", (Y/N) finished for the Straw Hat.

"Oh, you already know each other?", Nami raised an eyebrow.

"Your reputation precedes you", the woman answered almost... bitterly?

"Oooh looks like somebody has a fan", the long nosed guy - Usopp - started teasing the swordsman.

"I wouldn't say that", (Y/N) mumbled as she left the crew standing.

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"Hey, (Y/N)! Can I talk to you for a sec?", Nami walked up to (Y/N), who, at the moment, was sitting down near the railing watching the water.

The girl raised her brows to show the red-head she was listening, but remained silent for the time being.

"You know today, when you ran back for your stuff, I really thought you finally came back to your senses but you didn't go for all the valuables... why? All you saved was this... book?"

The other woman just shrugged, "I got what I wanted"

"At first I wasn't sure what it was, you were looking for but then I talked to Sanji and he told me he's seen that kind of book before. A devil fruit encyclopedia... Why is it so important to you that you couldn't leave it?"

"Listen, Nami. I'm sorry I put you all in danger but I needed that book"

And with that the black market dealer left the navigator standing.

"She's even worse than Robin", the red-head mumbled to herself.

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It's been a few weeks since (Y/N) joined the Straw Hats and for the most parts it's been uneventful. For the first week or so she preferred to keep to herself but it was Sanji especially that wouldn't accept no for an answer whenever he told her to come eat dinner with the crew. But even then she made sure to always sit at the far end of the table to bring the most distance between herself and him.

She hadn't spoken a single word to the swordsman since setting foot on the ship and she was thankful that he didn't seem to care about trying to either.

"Don't mind the stupid Marimo. He's a brute. He wouldn't even know how to talk to such a beautiful flower as yourself ~", Sanji would regularly tell her but she'd just send him a tight smile and change the topic.

At the moment, she was sitting on deck tinkering around with Franky. She wasn't the best at crafting but she knew the tools so playing his assistent wasn't the worst past-time.

"I'm glad we got that tool before the marines stormed your warehouse", the cyborg told her, "I'm gonna build us some suuuuper cool stuff with it"

(Y/N) was just about to hand him another wrench when Zoro passed them on his way to the crows nest. During her time there she noticed that the lookout kind of was his personal training space. Of course, everybody was welcome to use it but nobody spent as much time there as the pirate hunter so she made a mental note to always stay clear of it. Her eyes lingered on the taller man's back as he passed them.

"(Y/N)!", Franky's voice pulled her back to reality and she had to pull herself together to not drop the wrench she was holding. This couldn't keep going like that. If she got distracted during a fight things might end up ugly - she knew that much.

************************************************************************

"Come with me?", he held out his hand to her knowing exactly that his question was only a formality. There wasn't a chance in the world that (Y/N) would ever let him leave without her - or quite frankly the other way around.

"You're insanse", she laughed but grabbed his hand without hesitation. They've known each other since they were only children - it was never a question of if but rather of when they'd finally get together.

"But you know you love me", he grinned at her, pulling her into his chest for a playful kiss.

She woke up and for a moment she felt at peace with the world, wanting to turn around snuggling into her pillow again. The rhythmic sound of breathing in the room calming her into a state of betweent sleep and being awake. But then she remembered... These breathing sounds weren't his. In fact, it was all just a dream.

Confronted with the harshness of reality she didn't feel like sleeping anymore, afraid of yet another dream that would give her a false sense of familiarity. Instead she slipped into a cardigan and decided to get some fresh air.

Once outside on deck, she took a deep breath. She enjoyed how cold the air was in those morning hours. The sun was just starting to rise - not even enough to paint the sky in these pink and orange tones she found so pretty.

"Couldn't sleep again?", the gruff voice made her jump. It was the first time that Zoro had spoken to her since she joined the crew but that didn't mean she wasn't familiar with his voice. It was almost involuntarily that her ears almost instantly perked up and her heart started racing whenever he started speaking around her. He triggered her fight, flight, freeze instinct and to her demise it was always freeze.

"Had a bad night", her voice was coarse.

"Seems to happen often"

She furrowed her brows. What was his deal? As if he could read her mind, Zoro continued.

"Out of the last five weeks, I was on night watch twelve times. And you were awake for at least ten of those times. And those were only the times I noticed"

"I-", she swallowed, "Being on a ship again just brings back some memories I haven't thought about in a long time..."

She didn't know why she told Zoro of all people but she couldn't take it back now anymore anyways...

"You've been to sea before?"

She let out a dry, humorless laugh.

'I don't want to talk about it. At least not with you', she thought to herself.

What she said instead was, "My fiance was a captain - My captain to be specific"

Zoro raised his brows, "You were engaged?"

The memory was bittersweet. She smiled sadly. The swordfighter noticed how pretty she was eventhough her smile didn't reach her eyes.

"We were young", she shrugged.

"So it ended badly I take it?", there wasn't a hint of empathy in his voice. What did she expect? Getting involved with your captain rarely ends well.

"Let's talk about something else...", she knew Zoro's mind probably immediately went to heartbreak but if she had the chance, she'd do it all over again as long as he was with her.

"You've been avoiding me", he stated, "why?"

Zoro wasn't a fan of beating around the bush. Of course he had noticed that the girl went out of her way to never having to interact with him in any way. He didn't sweat it though. He wasn't desperate for a new friend. If there was a new team mate, so be it. Didn't mean they had to like each other. What he was curious about, however, was why she seemed to apprehensive about getting to know him.

"I guess I just didn't want to risk starting to like you", she shook her head knowing how ridiculous that sounded.

Zoro furrowed his brows. From all the possible answers he could've gotten, this wasn't one he'd have expected. He was almost a little offended now.

"You didn't seem to mind getting to know the others"

"That's different", she sighed. He noticed how exhausted she looked.

"You knew me when you first joined the crew", he continued.

"Doesn't the whole world know you by now? The Straw Hats are notorious"

He didn't take this for an answer.

"You know as good as me that this is something entirely different. What I don't know, however, is what I did to you"

"Of course, you don't", she laughed bitterly. She knew that she wasn't fair to him. She didn't expect him to remember but she couldn't help it. Zoro blinked a few times, trying to figure out what it was the girl was talking about.

She sighed, "Do you ever have any regrets about being a bounty hunter in the past?"

He had never thought about that but he slowly shook his head after thinking about her words for a few seconds. He still wasn't sure what she was on about but he wanted to understand.

"I don't believe in regret", he answered. There wasn't anything he could do about his past. Back then he never would've thought that he'd ever become a pirate himself after making a name for himself as the pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro but what happened happend. He tried not to rack his brains over it.

"Well, I do", she mused.

"(Y/N)", he wanted to tell her to just tell him what's going on but hesitated once he saw how she tensed up when her name left his lips. He almost felt bad for her, she looked so helpless. It wasn't like him to feel like that but something felt different about this situation.

"Nomi Malik", she sighed, "I don't suppose the name rings a bell..."

At first, Zoro wasn't sure who she was talking about. She could see his eyes moving trying to remember but then his brows creased just the tiniest bit. He did remember. Nomi Malik was one of the last pirates he caught before becoming one himself.

"Yes, I remember. Devil Fruit User... not very strong though. What about him?"

His words stung. They were true, of course they were. And then again they weren't. Malik wasn't weak. He had a hefty bounty on his head - otherwise Zoro wouldn't have wasted his time on him and his crew but the swordsman was extremely skilled - even before he became one of the Straw Hat Pirates. She didn't blame him stating the obvious though. When she visibly struggled to find the right words, he continued.

"Did you know him?"

'That's an understatement', she thought to herself.

Instead, she just nodded. He stayed quiet waiting for her to continue. He noticed the sun was starting to rise, casting a golden hue upon her features.

"We grew up together", she turned to look towards the horizon, "I can't remember a time when he wasn't there... well, except for now, of course..." - she got quiet upon the realization - "when he asked me to join him, it wasn't even a question"

Zoro raised his brows. He knew he didn't remember every single person he ever hunted down but he was sure that (Y/N) was never one of them.

"If you were part of his crew...", he tried to vocalize his thoughts.

"Then why didn't you catch me along with the rest of his crew?", she finished his question for him, "well, I hadn't had a bounty back then. I was completely irrelevant to you"

"So, where's he now? Impel Down? You know Luffy broke half of the inmates out a few years ago... He could be out there somewhere...", Zoro shrugged. What had happened to her was unfortunate but he just did what he had to do to survive. To say he felt bad would be a lie.

The girl opposite of him slowly shook her head though, "Wanted dead or alive...". She emphazised the word to show him that the marine truly didn't care. Either option was fine with them as long as there was a pirate less roaming the sea.

The swordsman was taken aback. What reason would the marines have to do this? They had imprisoned pirated way more powerful than Nomi's crew.

"No, that-"

"I was there", she cut him off, "I followed you when you handed them over. Right outside the marine base"

The smile returned on her face as she stared off somewhere into the distance.

"You were incredibly skilled even back then... of course there's no comparison to now... after your training with Mihawk, I mean"

Zoro knew he was good but the praise didn't feel as great as he was used to. At the moment, the only thing he felt was a weight upon his chest. He never felt remorse for his enemies but he was also never confronted with their surviving loved ones before. Most people thought of Zoro as cruel, heartless, a brute but that wasn't necessarily true. There were people he cared about - he just didn't show it. Besides, he knew how it felt like to lose someone.

"What happened?", he asked her, still not sure how thinks could've escalated.

"Malik was a lot like Luffy in a sense. Adventurous, fun-loving, great leader - stubborn though. There was no way he'd let himself and his crew get captured without a fight. He became a pirate for freedom. To see the world. He couldn't have that behind bars. I don't think he seriously thought he'd stand a chance. It was just his- I mean our crew against the whole base"

She made her way over the battlefield towards her lover. Slow. Too slow for her liking. For every yard she made she had to fight off two or three marines. Granted, most of them were only low ranking officers but there were too many for her liking. But for a moment things looked like they were turning in their favour - or at least favourable enough. Starting a fight was smart. If they played their chances right they could flee in the commotion.

From across the battlefield (Y/N)'s and Malik's eyes met. He sent her a darin wink looking as handsome as ever. She couldn't help but let out a hearty laugh. Only her daredevil of a boyfriend could make this high stress situation somewhat romantic. 'I love you', he mouthed over to her but she didn't get the chance to answer anymore as a new wave of marines stormed the plaza in front of the base.

As more and more marines flooded the place it became harder and harder for (Y/N) and her crew to hold out against their attacks. When the first one of their crewmate's bodies hit the ground (Y/N) knew there would be no fleeing. She loved how loyal her lover was. Loyal to her and to his crew. But this also meant that this fight would have to end - one way or another.

The blood was rushing in her ears as (Y/N) witnessed more and more of her crewmates being critcally hit. Her friends. People she grew up with. Good people. She stood still for a moment. She saw Malik's first mate lying on the ground a few feet ahead of her. She and him used to play cards together. It was him who taught her the rules of the game and it was her who showed him how to cheat people out of their money by bending even those rules. Next to her their navigator crashed to the floor. (Y/N) knew him since she was a little girl. He always knew the best routes and alleys to get away from the vendors that would chase after them when they yet again decided to steal candies and little toys from them. Nobody knew their little village as good as him. She felt helpless - lightheaded almost - but she didn't have the luxury of taking the time to mourn her friends as she had to focus on getting ahead. Closer towards were Malik was fighting against a vice-admiral at the moment.

Her captain was a devil fruit user but his powers didn't seem to have any effect on the vice-admiral. (Y/N) knew this could mean one thing only - this guy's Haki was way stronger than Malik's. She knew she needed to get to them. She was aware that she couldn't be of much help, even without his devil fruit powers Malik was much stronger than her but whatever they did, they did it together.

She was still busy fighting several marines when a loud slashing sound followed by a muffled scream cut through the air. (Y/N)'s head whipped around just in time to see Malik's body hit the floor as well now. After the vice-admiral made sure the other male wasn't in any shape to get up and continue the fight, he just left him there to bleed out and die.

The ringing sound in (Y/N)'s ears was back and everything seemed as if it were in slow motion. As fast as her legs would carry her she hurried towards were her lover was lying in the dirt - the fight forgotten. A patch of his own blood staining his clothes growing bigger and bigger by the minute.

"Malik!", she screamed his name, tears already forming in her eyes. As she finally reached him, she wasted no time immediately sliding on her knees pressing her hands on the deep wound on his torso.

"It's okay now. I'm here. It's going to be okay", she babbled probably more to soothe herself rather than the dying love of her life beneath her.

"Baby... Ba-baby, listen. You need to leave", eventhough she could see in how much pain he was, the man - her captain - still send her a reassuring smile. His teeth and lips were already coloured red from his own blood but he still looked so incredibly handsome to her. He was still her Malik.

"What? No! Why would I do that? I'm not leaving you", the tears were now streaming freely down her face.

"You don't have a bounty. They don't even know who you are yet. This is your only chance. Please, I'm begging you. Leave"

How come all of them had to die while (Y/N), who was less strong - less experienced - got to live? It didn't seem fair to her. She shook her head making the tears fall everywhere from the motion. She wouldn't leave. If her whole crew, her captain, the man she loved with all her heart had to die, she'd go with them.

"What are you saying there?", she smiled through the tears, "We're in this together. I'm not leaving. I'm not", she repated the last phrase over and over again. Malik tried to gently interrupt her ramble but she wouldn't have it. It was almost like she didn't even hear him. It was only when he finally raised his voice that she fell silent and really listened to what he was saying.

"I don't have much time left, so listen to me now. I'm still your captain so you gotta do what I tell you", he tried to sound serious but failed knowing that their relationship has always been grounds for teasing within the whole crew and even among themselves. Even now, whilst being in pain and bleeding out, he never lost his happy spirit she fell in love with. She was reminded of the reality of the situation when his happy laugh soon turned into a hurtful cough, "I love you. I've loved you forever. And I always will. I'm sorry I never got to make you my wife. I'm sorry for being too stubborn. I'm sorry for everything"

There's so much she wanted to tell him. That there was nothing to be sorry about. That she'd do it all again. That she loved him more than anything. But all she could do was sob and put pressure on his wound to try and slow down the bleeding.

"Please. You need to leave now. I'll be fine - it's like going to sleep. It's easy. But- but I need you to be fine as well", he nodded up at her as she felt his hands on top of hers moving them away, releasing the pressure she was putting on the lethal wound on his torso. As soon as her hands left their place the blood started gushing and spilling over his body, making the pool of blood he was lying in rapidly increase in size. She cupped his face with one of her hands, stroking through his hair with the other, staining both in the process. Still crying she leaned down and pressed one last kiss on his lips that were already starting to become cold from the blood loss. The kiss tasted like the blend of her tears and his blood - salty and like iron. For a moment only him and her mattered. She knew those were the last moments that she'd ever have with her lover and she cherished every second of it.

A loud crash pulled her back to reality. The fight was lost and she knew she needed to get away. She took one last look at the love of her life before standing up and leaving him there - along with a piece of herself.

"I really miss him...", her voice grew thick and she swallowed to pull herself together. She wasn't the same since that day. She struggled with those memories. In fact, she didn't know which ones were worse - the happy memories from her dream or rather those painful ones. (Y/N) avoided thinking about it too much - she was plagued by guilt ever since she got to live while others had to die, "I had to leave the bodies there... They - the marine I mean - they didn't even bury them properly. They were just all thrown in some kind of unmarked mass grave or something... like... like a bunch of dogs"

Zoro didn't know what to say. The way the girl sat before him, he could tell how painful this all was to her and he felt bad that he was the reason for it. Contrary to popular belief, Zoro wasn't as clueless as most people thought. Most of the time he simply didn't care to pay enough attention but right now he had listened to every single word that left her lips and yet had still no idea what to say. He was truly lost for words.

"I'm... sorry", as soon as Zoro spoke the words he realized how foolish they sounded. Almost as if to apologize for eating the last desert or borrowing something without asking beforehand - not for indirectly being responsible for the death of a loved one. He wanted to tell her that he too knows how it feels to lose someone. That he never meant for that to happen but instead he just remained silent.

She sighed and quickly wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes with the palms of her hands.

"I have no ill will towards you. You only did what you had to do to survive. It's a dog eat dog world out there. I know this as good as you", she sent him a shaky smile, "You didn't kill him. It was his decision to fight. It's just... seeing you here again. Everyday. It brings back memories. I see you and I think of him. I can't help it. I know it's not fair to you but that's the only way I know how to cope at the moment", she shrugged like it wasn't that big of a deal but her inability to hold his gaze for even a second showed how she truly felt.

The morning sun was now fully out and slowly the other Straw Hats started to fill the deck - starting with Sanji, who was usually the first to get up everyday to prepare breakfast for the whole crew. (Y/N) decided to join him like most days. She was awake anyways so preparing breakfast with Sanji became like her little morning ritual. She sent Zoro a small smile before she left him sitting there alone with his thoughts.

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Zoro didn't show up for breakfast that day. (Y/N) was thankful for it. That morning was emotionally draining for her but there was also something else... It was the first time she's ever spoken about what had happened back then and apart from the vulnerability it felt good to properly allow herself to think of her old friends and her former lover again. She did allow herself to mourn them right after it happened but the guilt was overwhelming and most of the time she wished for herself to be dead as well. To combat those feelings she abandoned the memories of her old crew altogether - the hurtful ones as well as the happy ones - until she didn't think about them at all anymore. Of course, she never forgot them. She still had a goal to reach, but she just didn't allow herself to indulge in those memories anymore in fear of the emptiness inside of her returning. Today, was different though. Talking to Zoro about everything, re-living the situation hurt, but now that she was sitting in the dining area sorrounded by her new crew - that familiar hopelessness never came.

"Oi, where's Zoro?", Luffy spoke through a mouth-full of food.

"It was his turn with night watch duty tonight. He's probably catching up on sleep", Dr. Chopper explained. He was right. It wasn't unusual for the night guards to be absent during breakfast in the morning - especially for Zoro, who took any opportunity he could to squeeze in a good nap whenever he got the chance - but Sanji would usually make sure that whoever's turn it was would eat first and then go to bed.

"Fine by me", the captain laughed happily as he grabbed another stack of food from across the table, "that mean I get to eat Zoro's portion then"

(Y/N) silently agreed with the Straw Hat, not minding the swordfighter's absence at all. It was Sanji that wasn't having any of it though.

"Who does he think he is? (Y/N)-san and I spent all this time preparing this food. Cooking, frying, baking... And this stupid marimo doesn't even show up? Doesn't he know wasting food is a cardinal sin in my kitchen?"

"Oi, Sanji calm down. I don't think any food is going to wast", (Y/N) motioned to Luffy, who grabbed yet another set of plates, shoving everything in his mouth at once, "besides, we've all skipped breakfast before..."

Her words had the desired effect and the cook did indeed shut up about Zoro, so that she could finally enjoy the rest of her food in peace without having to worry about the moss head.

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After breakfast (Y/N) decided to spend some time with the others, doing chores, training and generally enjoying the day. The sun was out and Nami decided this was the perfect weather to sunbathe a little. And so (Y/N) found herself along with Nami and Robin, who preffered to read under a parasol, on deck soaking up the sun whilst being served and taken care off by Sanji. (Y/N) could've done without the overbearing cook bringing them iced tea and little snacks every few minutes but Nami insisted that he enjoyed being of service so they should just lean back and enjoy - which she eventually did.

It was only when Zoro did not show up for dinner either that she realized that (Y/N) hadn't seen the swordsman at all that day after their talk in the wee hours of the morning. For a moment she pondered if she should fix him a plate and bring it up to the crows nest, so that he didn't have to go hungry but then quickly decided against it. If he didn't want to see her, she wouldn't want to make him uncomfortable by forcing herself on him. 'He'll surely wander into the kitchen after dinner is finished and fetch himself some leftovers', she thought to herself, 'And tomorrow everything will be back to normal'

But the next morning Zoro still didn't show up for breakfast. Or dinner. Or the breakfast the morning after.

"Hey, Usopp... who's turn was it to keep night watch ?", she furrowed her brows. Did the swordfighter switch with Nami again in exchange for some extra allowance so that he could buy more booze during their next errand run? It was a win-win situation for the both of them. Nami got to have her 'much needed beauty-sleep' whilst Zoro could earn some money on the side. He usually slept during guard duty anyways, relying on his instincts to kick in should something or rather someone try to start shit. She halted for a second, when did she get to know him that well?

"Uh? Franky's I think, why?", the long-nosed sniper answered her but was quickly dimissed by a hand gesture from the black market dealer. This was weird... Was he mad at her now?

Ever since that morning with Zoro, she slept well - great actually. Granted, it was a dreamless sleep but she preferred it like this at that moment in time. When she awoke in the morning, she realized that she had slept in. A little disgruntled about nobody waking her for breakfast she made her way into the dining area.

She didn't expect to find the swordsman sitting there. Their talk was now about a week ago and still he had somehow successfully managed to avoid her at all costs. She didn't see him during mealtime. She didn't see him roaming the ship. He didn't even nap at his usual spots, whenever (Y/N) was nearby. (Y/N) didn't know how to feel about it. There definitely was a feeling in her chest and she definitely knew that it wasn't a good feeling but she couldn't quite tell what it was... Was it guilt? Guilt for dumping all her trauma onto him? Annoyance that it was now him that somehow couldn't stand even being in the same space as her? No... it was something else entirely... Whatever it was, she didn't like it. Talking to him - speaking her feelings - she hadn't felt so at peace in ages and she was thankful for the opportunity and now it felt like she created herself another problem.

When she entered the dining area, several heads turned to her, greeting her, teasing her for sleeping in but (Y/N) only had eyes for a certain mosshead at the very head of the table. Her heart involuntarily skipped a beat. She was glad to see him - a thought for which she would've bitten her own tongue a week ago. Maybe she was simply over-thinking and everything could go back to normal now...

Zoro however had other plans as he slowly lowered the cup he was holding, placing it back on the table, getting up in the process.

"Where do you think you're going?", Sanji started but the pirate hunter didn't even stop walking.

" 'M full", he mumbled as he passed the girl that was still standing in the doorway.

"Zoro... you don't-", she tried to reason with him, still in disbelief about what she was seeing but he didn't acknowledge her.

Luffy was already all over Zoro's leftover whilst Sanji was still raging about there being leftovers at all when (Y/N), who hadn't moved an inch, too shocked by what just had happened, finally spoke up - although more to herself, "I'm not hungry"

With that she turned on her heel leaving the Straw Hats sitting there perplexed about what it was they had just witnessed.

"What was that?", Usopp asked no emotion on his face or in his voice.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say relationship troubles", Nami answered not enjoying the thought of not knowing about what was up with those two. Little did she know that neither (Y/N) nor Zoro had any idea themselves. However from then on, neither of them would show up where they expected the other to be present aswell, which - to be fair - on a ship could be anytime or anywhere, so they mostly stuck to themselves. Zoro in the crowsnest and (Y/N) in the aquarium.

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Yet another fight. Why did these damn Straw Hats always have to get themselves into some kind of trouble? (Y/N) had heard about the G-5 marines before. She heard horror stories about the marines of this branch being insane and needlessly cruel, torturing pirates for fun, killing them without reason but (Y/N) didn't dwell on it. She learned years ago to not fear death anymore but even if she did, there wouldn't be much reason for it. The Straw Hats really were as strong as the people in the bars were telling themselves behind their hands whenever they entered the establishment.

She had never seen anybody fight the way Luffy did, using Haki and his devil fruit power almost effortlessly. If she wasn't so preoccupied with the marines she was fighting off, she'd just stand there and watch her captain fight the vice-admiral that the people called Smoker the White Hunter. Neither of them holding back on their attacks.

But it wasn't only Luffy, who was extremely powerful. She quickly realized that every single one of the crew could hold their own in a fight, making her scramble to prover her worth as well. She'd be damned if someone had to rescue her during their first real brawl.

She had to admit seeing Zoro fight, triggered some uneasy feelings she quickly had to abandon to the back of her mind. He was the only one whom she had seen fight before but last time they unfortunately weren't on the same side. Of course, he greatly improved from back then to now - she was glad she didn't have to stand before him on the battlefield. Fighting almost seemed to be fun to him but not in a way that she had seen with Luffy or even Malik. It wasn't a carefree happiness. She heard people talk about the pirate hunter as if he wasn't fully human - part demon even - but she always dismissed these rumours as drunken tavern talk nothing more, nothing less but now (Y/N) knew what it was they were talking about. If it weren't for the semi-friendly competition between him and Sanji, she'd be more concerned but as the two of them were at each others throat whenever they had a free minute, she figured it was normal.

Zoro must've struck down close to double the amount of marines that the rest of the crew had managed to defeat in the same time when he suddenly stopped, his devilish demenour forgotten. (Y/N) forrowed her brows, trying to understand what was going on over there. Who was that woman facing Zoro and why was he not fighting her? She knew Sanji never kicked a lady but (Y/N) has seen Zoro fight women before. So why was he not moving?

As the two of them were in the middle of what seemed to be a heated discussion in which the female captain tried to attack the green-headed fighter to get him to fight her, (Y/N) noticed that Zoro was so busy deflecting her hits that he didn't even noticed two marines wildly starting an attack from behind.

With a few long strides, (Y/N) stood between the pirate hunter and his attackers, striking them down in the process.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? You should've seen that coming!", she yelled at him already finding herself in the next one on one fight. It was as if the pirate hunter was snapped out of his daze as he quickly made an exit, leaving the marine captain behind.

************************************************************************

"Hey", he walked up to her where she was sitting gazing at the surface of the water. The sun had already started to set and it was a bit chilly outside, so it was only the two of them on deck of the Sunny. (Y/N) couldn't help but to be reminded of the last time the both of them were alone out there, feeling at peace and strangely familiar with the mosshead.

"I saved your ass out there today", she told him, still not taking her eyes off of the water, "who was she? The marine captain with the glasses I mean"

Zoro hesitated for a moment. He didn't like talking about personal stuff. That was nobody's business anyways but she had opened up to him as well. She trusted him with her trauma, so maybe he should do so as well? Before he could make a decision, the dealer interrupted his thoughts.

"You could've easily taken her. I've watched her - she's good... but now that good", she was now looking at him, Zoro couldn't quite read the look on her face, "Listen, you do you but if we really are a crew I need to know that I can trust you..."

The fighter sighed but ultimately decided to tell (Y/N) all about Kuina, their goal and his promise to her. When he finished it was him that couldn't stand to hold her gaze anymore.

"That's very noble of you - holding on to your promise after all those years, I mean", she sent him a soft smile. Zoro noticed that she didn't seem to have any problems finding the right words. She didn't just stutter out an 'I'm sorry' for lack of a better idea.

The mosshead shrugged. Not even know he knew what to say to properly portray why becoming the strongest was so important to him.

"I understand, you know?", she continued, "I have a goal too. It's not as honourable as yours and it's entirely selfish to be honest but it's the reason I've become a black market dealer and just between the both of us? It's also the only reason I joined you guys", she lowered her voice for the last part eventhough she knew nobody could hear them.

Zoro was still hung up on her calling him honourable. That word was the last thing he would've described himself.

"What is your goal?", his voice was deep, no inflections, but he was genuinely interested.

She laughed to herself embarrassed about her ambitions but then decided to keep talking - albeit without looking at him, "I've never talked about this to anybody... When Malik died I swore to myself I'd find his devil fruit. I've been looking for years. Built up an underground trading network, buying and selling all kinds of useless junk so that I always have the funds to pay for should my vendors some day offer me the right one. No luck so far"

Zoro blinked a few times. He remembered Nomi's devil fruit. Whoever ate the fruit gained the ability to plant visions in their enemies heads gaining an advantage in combat situations but...

"Here in the New World many - if not all - people have Haki. You'd have to be very strong to overcome that", he tried to be gentle with his delivery, not wanting to insult her by implying that she'd be too weak to be a devil fruit user. She turned to fully face him now.

"Oh, I know...", she paused for a moment, seemingly searching for the right words, "it's just - I couldn't stand the thought of anybody else having his fruit. Being on the battlefield and having to fight against something that was such a core component of what made him him"

"So you just want to have it?"

She shrugged, "Don't tell Luffy I said that but I always thought a pirate that can't swim is a little foolish anyways. A recipe for disaster really"

For a moment the two just looked at each other but then the girl broke out in a huge grin. He hadn't seen her smile properly ever since she joined the crew. She was friendly to everybody - sans him of course - but she was never really happy. She tried to stop it by biting her lip but that made it only more charming to him.

"You saved me today", he dead-panned, looking down at her not knowing how to show his grattitude as he wasn't used to being saved. It was usually him that did the saving.

"I did"

"Why? I thought my presence brings back bad memories", his voice was low barely but a whisper.

"That doesn't mean I want you to die, you idiot", she sounded almost offended by his suggestion, "You've been avoiding me", she continued, now wanting some answers for herself.

"I didn't want you to be forced to eat at the same table with me. All those things that happened to you..."

She looked at him with a sad expression on her face placing a hand on his forearm. Usually the swordsman would've pulled his arm away but he just let her, "Zoro, I've told you before I don't blame you for what happened"

"Even if that were true, you said seeing me reminded you of what happened. So I stayed away"

She tried to find the right words to express her feelings. On one hand she felt incredibly guilty that he felt he needed to isolate himself from his crew - his nakama - just so that she would feel better and on the other hand she wanted to yell at him that he was being stupid. That he did too much. But there was also another feeling inside (Y/N)'s chest. Was it thankfulness? He had shown her that her feelings and comfort was in this moment more important to him than his own.

Zoro didn't know what to expect now. Did he do too much? Why was he so bad at interpreting people's emotions?? Much to his surprise the girl leapt into his arms, though, hugging him tightly. At first, he was a little overwhelmed but soon hugged her back.

"Thank you, Zoro", she mumbled into his shoulder, where her face was buried.

"I- Don't mention it...", he decided to tighten his grip around her waist a little, "You said- that you didn't want to risk starting to like me-"

He couldn't even finish what he was trying to say as the woman who was comfortably nestled in his arms wiggled and struggled to free herself from his grip. Why did he say that? He scolded himself. Why would he remind her of her resolution to keep her distance. There were a thousand thoughts rushing through his head - which would've been a lot for any person, but was even more especialy for Zoro, who usually didn't think much about things. But maybe that was the problem, he told himself. At least he had a good poker face...

"Zoro, look at me", she put both her hands on either side of his face to make sure he'd actually look at her, "it's a little late for that... I like you already"

"You- you do?", the mosshead couldn't help but to sound surprised.

"Yep", she popped the 'p', Zoro's eye flickered down to her lips for just the fraction of a second. He hoped that she didn't notice but no such luck.

"I think I've liked you since the first time we talked, I just didn't realize it until you started avoiding me", she leaned in closer, sliding her hands from the sides of his face to the back of his neck. He could feel her breath on his lips now as she voice was barely above a whisper, "Can I kiss you?"

He didn't even answer. Instead he leaned down and pressed his lips onto hers and it didn't take long for (Y/N) to return the kiss. It wasn't hungry or passionate. They didn't make out. It was sweet and it was full of emotions.

"So that's what you two have been doing during mealtime, huh?"

The two of them jumped apart as they heard Usopp's voice.

"And here I was starting to think the two of you disliked each other", Nami added.

(Y/N) and Zoro shared a look trying to gauge how the other wanted to handle this.

"If you only knew..."

************************************************************************

Epilogue

It's been a few weeks since Usopp and Nami caught the two of them on deck. They both decided to let them believe whatever they thought they deduced on the spot. (Y/N) was happy either way. Of course, she would never be able to forget what had happened in front of that marine base a few years back - she didn't even want to forget - but she decided it was time for her to move one. She knew Malik would want that for her. And whenever she wandered the deck in the wee hours of the morning now it was not because she was plaqued by the bad memories, but solely because she decided to keep the green-headed swordfighter company and sit by the water and talk, daydream and watch the sea.

[just-here-for-the-moment]

She Comes First (Part I)

This was started as part of @wannab-urs DMAMC fic challenge, but I just did not finish the fic on time (sad trombone)... so here's Part I (the buildup) and I'll post Part II (the payoff) as soon as it's finished.

Please go check out the rest of the DMAMC tags for more delicious fics!! This has been a really fun fic challenge, and I'm still happy with everything I've written so far.

Word count: 10,299 (nobody look at me!) Rating: Explicit, for 18+ only legally (but really ages 35+ only for the vibes, this is adult shit) Outline: alternating dual POV; Frankie “Catfish” Morales x domme!fem!Reader insert (Reader insert is 40+, able-bodied, has boobs and a pussy, wears corporate/business clothes to work, and wears pumps/heels) but otherwise is a total blank slate (no physical description, not white-coded, no blushing, no descriptions of hair or skin) Warnings: Femdom; Frankie is brand new to SSC (safe/sane/consensual) BDSM; characters drink alcohol; curse words and vulgar language (all the good stuff you expect from one of my smutfics); eventual smut; lots and lots and lots of talking about BDSM limits (but I tried to make it hot). 

You settle yourself at the bar, resting your feet on the brass crossbar of the leatherette stool, sinking against the low backrest with a sigh as you wave down the bartender. 

What a week… Fuck the clients and their demands, and your boss’s caving every time they snap their fingers. A drink to start, and then some well-deserved Friday night play. 

Hopefully there will be at least one interesting man tonight, someone you can invite to a hotel room and use as the finest form of stress release. Someone who can be a good boy, who can obey your orders and give you pleasure that you’ll return tenfold when he earns it. 

You look up, using the large mirror above the bar to scan the room behind you, taking advantage of the fact that it’s tilted at an angle, giving you a view not only of people walking behind you, but also the booths and their occupants. You can stare for as long as you like—no one really ever notices anyway, engrossed in their own good time. 

Of course, there’s always one guy who wants to catch your eye, come over and sit next to you and seduce you (ick) but you can see that type coming from a mile away, and they’re not who you’re interested in. Finance or tech bros, ties loose and eyes too shiny with whatever top-shelf shit they’ve imbibed too much of before you even walked in. 

As the bartender places your drink in front of you, you catch the reflection of a booth full of men behind you and a few feet to your left. A young one, very blond and muscled and wearing a white sleeveless T-shirt seated next to another, darker blond man in a sedate navy blue polo, a short, trimmed beard giving him a corporate look. The two seats opposite them are occupied by a shorter man in a black shirt, his dark curls shot through with gray, and the fourth man is different, a little taller and a lot broader than the others, wearing a mesh baseball cap.

He’s wide through the shoulders, arms straining beneath a soft chambray denim shirt, even softer-looking curls escaping from beneath the brim of his hat. He’s smiling and even laughing at moments, but he’s much quieter than the other three, especially the rowdy one you’ve nicknamed Muscles and the smirking dark-haired man seated next to the wall. You see all four of them raise their beer glasses to toast to something, but their laughter is gone, replaced by somber expressions. The shortest one, the smirky one, mouths an “Amen” but you can’t hear it over the din of the bar. 

You consider the group, carefully scanning each of them for tells, little hints that any of them might be of interest, might be a good time for the evening. 

The youngest one—he’s too ebullient, too boisterous for what you want to give. He wouldn’t pay attention, wouldn’t follow instructions and be a good boy. And definitely not the smirker in the black shirt; he’s handsome and he knows it. He’d be a brat, try to wrest control from you, make it a challenge that he’s leading. The other blond, the quieter one; he’s handsome enough, but something about the set of his jaw and the way he carries himself when he strides up to the bar to order another round—that power, that inner peace—this is not his thing, you can tell. And that leaves…

Baseball cap. Soft, kind eyes and a strong nose, plush lips just beneath a patchy little mustache. A little sad, much quieter than the others and much larger. He’s a big boy, all broad shoulders and work-strong arms under that soft blue shirt, his sleeves rolled up his forearms for comfort, but giving a show of how strong he must be. A physique crafted by hard work and daily routines, entirely different from the sweat-slick muscles of the younger blond. That one must be a gym rat or a boxer or something, self-focused when he flexes his bicep at the short, dark one in the black shirt and gets a smirk and a “Fuck you” in return, a playful slap that glances off his elbow as he cackles and lowers his arm.

Baseball cap laughs and shakes his head, eyes flicking to his heavy glass stein, two-thirds full of golden, bubbling liquid, still working on his first drink when Polo Shirt returns with a tray of three beers for himself and the others. He’s savoring, sipping where the others quaff, holding a palm out and shaking his head with an emphatic “No,” that you can read on his lips in the mirror after the younger blonde raises his arms and shouts, “Shots!” loud enough for you to hear it over the crowd. 

Baseball cap is enjoying himself, taking it slow, licking his lips after each sip of beer. It must be his reward for a Friday night, a work week well-done, a rare treat on a night out with the guys. You can tell he’s comfortable with them. It’s not the quiet nervousness of someone awkward, someone new who’s trying to fit in with a louder crowd. These are his friends, and they take him as he is, even when he’s got his eyes down, trailing a blunt fingernail over the graffiti marks on the solid wood table instead of joining in the jovial conversation. 

He lifts his eyes and suddenly they’re locked on yours in the mirror, dark and rich, eyes you could drown in if that was your thing. He flicks his gaze away for a moment and you blink—and there he is again, a little shy after another nanosecond of eye contact, flicking his eyes away and then looking down, taking a sip of his beer with the same focus he probably used for final exams in school. His eyes find yours in the mirror once more and this time you smile, gentle and soft, just a curve up at the corners of your mouth. Baseball cap’s dark eyes go wide for a moment before he swallows hard and looks back down at his beer.

Bingo. 

He’s the one. The shy ones, the gentle giants, the big guys with kind eyes—they’re your favorite. Much more relaxed in middle age than the college boys you sometimes play with, the eager ones who are so distracted by their nerves that they can hardly follow direction. You know that you fulfill some kind of mommy kink or older woman fantasy for them—and you don’t mind, because you know the rules on both sides of the game. But the eager young things get tiresome after a while, and it starts to feel like you’ve signed up to teach, rather than to enjoy yourself. 

You let them down gently but firmly, with a kiss and a reassuring pat—letting them know that they did good, but it’s just not going to turn into a long-term relationship, and maybe they should share those fantasies with a woman their own age. You tell them to look for someone serious, a girl who scares them a little, who they would never normally approach for a date. You know that there are plenty of young women at their university who would jump at the chance to boss them around in bed, and that there’s a girl for each one of those young, eager boys—a stressed-out hard sciences major who just wants to exercise a little control in her own life, and she’ll eagerly wield all manner of paddles and punishments if they ask her sweetly to dominate them. 

You’re tired, too, of the single men who have been in the scene long enough to know what they want—and what they want always seems to be a collar, a lifelong promise of devotion on both sides, and you just aren’t in the market for that. The usual circles of people in this town who are looking for some casual weekend play have gotten stale. They’re mostly couples in long-term relationships—and god, you know it’s selfish, but you don’t want to share. You want someone entirely focused on you, who won’t be thinking about what their own domme might do to them later, who will eagerly come when you call instead of having to ask permission from someone else to go on a playdate. 

And that leaves… fresh meat, new men. Men who you screen very carefully before you start a casual hookup. Men who look like they’ll be a good little pet in bed, if they can follow instructions, if they can shed any of the hang ups they have and go all-in with you for a night or a weekend. Men who have a deeply-buried desire to cede control, who have maybe never voiced it to a woman in their entire life, but who need it just as desperately as they need air. 

They’re just looking for someone to call it out of them, to give them the words they don’t have yet to describe what they’re longing for, what they ache for deep down when they’re fisting their cocks in the shower and replaying scenes from their favorite porn videos in their head. The whips, the restraints, the high heels and the stern voice of their favorite porn star dominatrix. The way she pulls the male actor’s hair when she tilts his head back and spits in his mouth, towering over him as he kneels before her, his hands behind his back and his cock as hard as iron and she hasn’t even looked at it yet, let alone touched it. Those are the men you need, the ones who have desired this for years, but have always been too shy or embarrassed or scared to ask for it. 

And if Baseball Cap fits that mold, you’ll gladly take him home for the night. You could do so much for him, let those desires out of the little box that he’s buried them in, tell him it’s okay to ask for what he wants, put his desires first for once, instead of always trailing behind his more extroverted friends. And, hey, if you shoot your shot and he’s not into that, there are plenty of other subby little fish in the sea. But he looks delicious, and you want to hook him with a lure he doesn’t even know exists right now. 

You decide to play a game, to see if you can get his attention and keep it. 

He’s so sweet, glancing up at you in the mirror when he thinks you’ve turned your gaze away, only to find that your eyes are still scanning him, gently assessing him, an appreciative little smile on your lips. Then he ducks his head and goes back to his beer.

His cheeks go pink after the second round of this game, his ears after the fourth or fifth, starting flushed and then blazing red. He’s a cutie, shy and growing more bashful by the second as his friends catch wind of what he’s looking at and start to rib him for it. 

Muscles cranes his neck over to look, his playful eyes wide as he sees you in the mirror. He turns back to Baseball Cap with a shit-eating grin and says something that makes Baseball Cap hide his face behind his hand. Polo shirt goes for casual, turning his gaze to the bartender as if he’s gauging how busy the line for drinks might be before he slides his eyes over you without a change in expression. 

Smirky gives you a big grin and a very flirty wink in the mirror and you drop your smile, raising one eyebrow with a shake of your head. Not you, Smirky.

You shift your gaze to look at the reflection of his friend, making sure that Smirky can see your eyes trailing from his work-worn boots to his hips, all the way up his arms to the top of his well-loved baseball cap. Smirky gets the message and elbows Baseball Cap, leaning down to murmur something in his ear that makes Baseball Cap sit up with a start, shaking his head and pulling on his earlobe in nervousness. 

Smirky elbows him again, hard, and you’re delighted when Baseball Cap turns back to look at you and catches your eyes in the mirror, bashful hope written all over his face, the shyness dropping away bit by bit as his interest grows. You smile again, tilting your head at the empty stool next to you at the bar and he turns back to his friends, eyebrows raised for help, seeking guidance. 

Good boy, you think… What a good boy, asking for help when you need it, opening up to the idea of coming over here, seeing what the pretty lady wants with you. 

He looks back at the mirror, sees you still looking, then takes a larger gulp of beer before rubbing his hands nervously on his denim-clad thighs. He braces his legs and then slides out of the booth, turning his back to you for a moment to look at his friends for a final bit of guidance. 

All three shout, “Go!” to him in unison, you can hear it over the din, and just as he turns to approach you… a slimeball slides into the seat next to you, wrapping one arm over the back of your barstool as if he has any right to your personal space or attention. 

Your heart falls when Baseball Cap takes in the scene, his hope fading to disappointment as he looks away and then strides off to the restroom, as if that was his plan all along. 

“Wha’s a pretty little thing like you doing here all alone, sweetheart?”

You take a sip of your drink and swivel toward him, knocking his arm off the back of your chair with a scowl. 

“Not interested. Please leave.”

Slimeball’s confused expression slides over his face slower than it should, a clue to how inebriated he already is. This was going to be irritating, the drunk ones always making more trouble than you want. Not that any man took rejection well… you could count on one hand the number of men who had taken your “No, thank you,” gracefully and apologized for bothering you before disappearing back to mind their own beeswax. 

“What d’ya mean? I’m just trying to make a little conversation, s’all.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Baseball Cap’s three friends start to slide out of the booth. Trouble-stoppers, good guys, you can tell. You’re grateful for their presence, even if you can handle this sort of thing entirely yourself… just in case it gets ugly. They stay standing near their table, watching carefully and taking their cues from you instead of rushing in to white knight the situation—and that’s even better than just being willing to step in. They seem like men who care about and respect women, green flags all around. 

“But you shouldn’t have to drink alone, pretty girl. M’just tryna save you from a boring night.”

You narrow your eyes at Slimeball and lower your chin, scowling at him like you’re an angry bull facing off a threat, and then… oh no, here comes Baseball Cap back from the restroom, stopping abruptly when he sees his friends focused on you, watching intently as Slimeball tries to put his hand on your thigh. If looks could kill, Slimeball would have a hole in the back of his head right now. 

In the corner of your vision Baseball Cap looks pissed off, but you sense it’s not uncontrolled anger. He’s quiet in the way he settles his body, one hand waving his friends back into their seats while the other hangs at his side, making a loose fist and releasing it, over and over. Not immediately springing into action, not itching to start something ugly in the crowded bar, but prepared just in case—the rest of his body still, taut, alert… ready. 

You slap Slimeball’s hand off your knee, then you raise your volume and lower your pitch, making your voice deep and loud, hoping the sound will carry to Baseball Cap and his friends, letting them know you’re okay and can handle it. 

“I said ‘no’ and I meant it. Leave. Now.” 

Fortunately Slimeball takes the hint, his face dropping into a disgruntled pout: he’s just a little boy who thinks the world owes him something, that women are vending machines that he can put kindness or attention or flirting tokens into and get guaranteed sex in return. A little boy whose Mommy didn’t say “no” enough, a boy who never learned that women are human beings, and that every man who is lucky enough to walk the Earth was born of a woman and he better damn well respect his origins.

“Fuck you, you fucking bitch.” The waft of his pathetic liquor breath hits you and you turn back to your own drink, making a show of being entirely unbothered. 

“Slut,” spits Slimeball as he moves to dismount the stool and almost slides to the floor. 

Ah, a classic, the final paradoxical rebuke from many a damaged man—you won’t put out for him, so you must be a slut, secretly fucking every other man in the bar and withholding your public favors only from him.

Slimeball turns and lurches toward the back hall, heading for the men’s room, or maybe the exit to the alley where he can vomit and regret his life choices—you don’t care which. You shake your head to yourself and look up in the mirror. 

Baseball Cap is sliding back into the booth, and when he looks at you again, there’s a small smile and a nod, acknowledgement that you’re capable of handling jerks and idiots by yourself. He tunes into the conversation his friends are having, and he looks like he’s lost interest in answering your call from before, no longer riding the wave of brimming courage he had built up just a few minutes ago. 

You sip the last of your drink and ponder your next move. Maybe it was time to be more bold, more direct, except… now Smirky is needling his friend, talking intently to Baseball Cap, but only succeeding in making him more and more defiant, his head shaking so hard it seems like his hat might come right off. Muscles joins the pile-on, while Polo Shirt puts one hand out across the table, entreating Baseball Cap in a gentler way. 

He shakes his head again, and Smirky shoves him, launching Baseball Cap halfway out of the booth, making him stumble a bit until he rights himself and stands up. He moves to sit down again, but Smirky slides across the seat and blocks him, staring up at him stubbornly with a stern, “Go,” that you can lip read in the mirror. 

Baseball Cap sighs and wipes his broad hand down his face, then reaches up and lifts the cap a few inches to sweep his hair back before he squares it on his head and takes a first, hesitant, step toward you. 

You watch in the mirror as he approaches, long legs clad in faded denim, moving slowly but smoothly toward you. Good boy.

Baseball Cap sidles up to you at the bar and you turn to him, smiling so that it reaches your eyes, so that he knows that he’s welcome to approach you, that you’re eager to talk with him. He’s much broader up close, and his eyes are so soft. A sudden image pops into your mind: your legs thrown over those shoulders, his face buried between your legs while you grip his hair, and you feel electricity begin to tingle in your core. 

He clears his throat and swallows, eyebrows knitted slightly, his plush lips parting with a quick flick of his tongue as he takes a deep breath.

Oh, he’s precious, so nervous and hopeful. Eager boy. This is going to be so much fun. 

“Hi, I’m—” his voice goes scratchy and he clears his throat to try again. “I’m Frankie.”

He puts his hand out and you grip it firmly. 

“Nice to meet you, Frankie. I was hoping you would come over and talk to me.”

He smiles, some of the tension leaving his shoulders, but not much. Still unsure of himself, uncertain of what this might be after getting a front-row seat to your swift handling of the other man’s unwelcome advances. His brown eyes go crinkly at the corners when he smiles, and you guess he’s probably forty, give or take a few years. 

Excellent. A man who has some years under his belt, who won’t be afraid to have an adult conversation with you, someone on your level for once. Fully grown, experienced, handsome. A man. 

“So, do you live around here, or-”

You put a hand up and cut him off. You don’t want Frankie to try to charm you, to make small talk because he thinks he has to. You smile as warmly as you can so that he doesn’t think you’re upset.

“Actually, Frankie, I’d like to skip the small talk and tell you that I want to have sex with you. Is it alright with you if we just talk about what I’m interested in doing? See if you’re open to it?”

Frankie’s jaw drops, his beautiful mouth opening an inch or so, and it makes you want to bite his dimpled lower lip, make him speechless again and again, reduce him to a quivering, happy puddle.

You hold his eyes, watching the gears turn quickly as he snaps his mouth shut and blushes furiously, trying to recover from the shock.

“I—um, yeah… I mean yes. Yes, please.” He smiles and ducks his head, then meets your eyes again as he relaxes totally, all nerves gone now. “I’d like that. Thank you for being so direct.”

Your heart sings. What a polite guy, respectful and eager and appreciative.

“You’re welcome. So you’re up for talking a little more?”

He nods, perfect white teeth showing in his soft smile. 

You hope he’ll be receptive to your next command, another little screening tool of yours. Small commands, reasonable things, before you pull the curtain back all the way and tell Frankie exactly what he can expect if he decides he wants to go further.

“In that case, go tell your friends they can take off without you.” 

You tilt your head in their direction, and Frankie grins, all happiness and dimples, now that he knows he doesn’t have to wade through the usual chit-chat and awkward “getting to know you” questions. He doesn’t have to try, he doesn’t have to calculate the odds of striking out, or figure out a way to rebuild his confidence if this falls apart.

You know that simple, direct commands can bring relief, remove the stress of having to make decisions and weigh consequences. It’s a gift to the right man when you flip the gender-norm tables and show your strength and your assertiveness, let him know that happiness and gratification are just on the other side of following directions.

And Frankie seems to be receptive to it.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You smile, watching in the mirror as Frankie lopes back to the booth, stands with his back to the bar and hooks a thumb over his shoulder to indicate to his friends that he’s ditching them. The butterflies between your legs flutter harder.

Muscles exclaims “Whoo!” like his favorite team just scored a touchdown, and you chuckle to yourself as you see Smirky pass a folded twenty-dollar bill across the table to Polo Shirt.

Frankie returns to sit in the empty stool next to you. You raise your hand, signaling to the bartender for a refill while Frankie peruses the menu to see what else they have on tap. Within thirty seconds his friends are standing up to leave, and since Frankie has his back to them he can’t see Smirky approaching with a mischievous look on his face. 

You look over Frankie’s shoulder at Smirky and shake your head once, firm, mouthing a stern, “No” at him. And thank god he’s not stupid, he just makes a little moue, a pout of disapointment but pairs it with a nod, understanding that his intrusion would not be welcome.

Smirky follows Muscles and Polo Shirt to the front door, and then they’re gone and you’re finally, blessedly alone with Frankie.

And now the real fun can begin.

Frankie can’t believe his good luck. His head is still spinning from your bold and direct manner, not to mention your sparkling eyes and winning smile. He can’t remember the last time a woman knocked him off-center this fast, and he welcomes it. 

Frankie trails his eyes over the bar menu, wondering why more women don’t just… say what they want. He could have saved so much time, skipped so many bad dates and hookups if he’d met a woman like you decades ago. He settles on a lager, and after he places his order with the bartender, you touch the back of his hand softly, just a graze, and he turns his eyes back to you.

You’re so… intense is what Frankie wants to think, but that word has negative connotations. And you’re definitely not a negative experience, you’re just so specific and present in the moment—direct—and the more Frankie thinks about it, the more he likes it.

“There’s a booth that just opened up in the corner,” you nod your head toward it. “I’m going to go sit down. Please bring the drinks over when they’re ready?”

Frankie nods, eager to please. “You got it.”

You smile, and Frankie feels like he’s just done something good, something that makes you happy. He’s surprised to find that he wants to do it again and again, and as you slide off the bar stool, he reaches his hand out to help you down, get you steady on your feet so that you don’t wobble in your office heels.

“What a gentleman,” you say. You shoot him another warm, soft smile, and Frankie swears his heart is going to explode with pride.

Fuck, you’re gorgeous. Frankie is so fucking thankful that he came over to talk to you. (He’ll never tell Santi it was his shove that finally did it—his ego is already big enough, the asshole.) But Frankie is already counting his lucky stars as he watches you walk away, hips swaying gently, mesmerizing him until he’s startled by the bartender plunking two glasses down in front of him.

Frankie opens a tab (hoping he’ll have much more time with you this evening), and carries the drinks over to you as carefully as he can. He sets them on the table and then pauses, a thought occurring to him.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” Frankie tries to keep his voice even, steady, but it seems to want to crack and go higher, his heart fluttering in his chest with the hope that he can do more for you.

He doesn’t know why. You’ve already told him what you want—to talk more about having sex with him—so it’s not like he needs to court you or gain favor. But something about you, about your assertiveness, makes Frankie want to please you. You’re clearly a very strong woman, you know what you want (and heaven knows Frankie is still wondering why you want him), and that strong personality of yours is calling to him like a siren song.

You shake your head. “No, but thank you. Sit down.”

That smile again, your sparkling and curious eyes… you’re intoxicating. Frankie tries to hide his disappointment, but he’s hoping that later there will be something else he can do for you, get for you, hell—make for you that will please you again.

“So…” you take a sip of your drink and meet Frankie’s gaze as your eyes sharpen. Not mean, just intelligent and direct. No bullshit.

It’s a breath of fresh fucking air as far as Frankie is concerned, and he feels just as floaty as he did back on that frozen mountain in Colombia, where the air was thin and ice cold. He smiles and waits, his instincts telling him that you’re about to blow his mind, and he won’t interrupt you while you’re in the middle of it.

“I wanted to talk with you more, Frankie, because what I’m looking for is very specific.”

Frankie swallows a sudden lump, worrying that he’s not what you’re looking for. It’s the result of damaged confidence born of too many conversations with girls whose wide eyes suddenly turn to Benny when he walks by. And far too many bored and disinterested women who get Frankie as their consolation prize when Santi hooks up with their best friend, and the happy couple (for the night) shoves their two wingmen together out of pity. Are you about to dismiss him?

But no, that couldn’t be right, because you had asked him to stay, invited him specifically to talk about sex. You’d already chosen him. And that thought cheers Frankie immensely. He thought he had read your signals correctly, he just wasn’t absolutely sure, so he talked himself out of coming over to you about nine different times. But now… now there is nothing to misread. You chose him, invited him, selected him. He’s wanted.

Frankie takes a deep breath, raising his eyebrows and nodding to you, holding your eyes with his own even though yours are almost too pretty to look directly into. But he wants you to know that he’s listening, taking you seriously.

You smile again, mysterious and secretive, and Frankie’s gaze flicks to your mouth as you open it to speak again. Whatever it is that you’re looking for, whatever specific thing you need, he’s determined to give it to you.

He wonders for a moment whether that’s crazy, whether he’s too far gone already for you when you’re still basically a stranger. And then he suddenly realizes he doesn’t even know your name! But Frankie knows, feels it with a conviction that he hasn’t felt in many years that he’ll be what you want, do what you need, twist himself into any shape that you’re seeking.

As long as you keep looking at him with those sharp eyes, that discerning smile. As long as you let Frankie stay in your orbit, he’ll be whatever kind of “specific” you demand.

You cock an eyebrow, “What do you know about dominant and submissive relationships?”

Frankie blushes, ducks his head and takes a sip of his beer, collecting himself. Your direct and plain language is doing things to him, and he wants to answer you just as frankly and matter-of-fact as you deserve.

“Ah, um… I know about them, a little bit about them, but I’ve never been in one. Does that answer your question?” Frankie hopes it does, and he feels a sweep of relief when you nod.

“It does.”

You smile again and Frankie can’t tear himself away from your eyes. He wants to make them sparkle like that every day. He smiles back at you and feels… happy, proud. He did it right, answered you correctly, and he wants to do it again.

You sip your drink, and Frankie watches you flick your tongue across your lower lip to catch an errant drop. He’s mesmerized, could watch you do that over and over again. 

You continue, “And from what you know, would you be interested in that dynamic? In taking part in a sexual relationship with one partner being dominant and the other partner taking a submissive role?”

Frankie feels his ears turn red. He’s never been one to be “mean” in bed, to do anything that might hurt his partner, and now he’s not sure if this is the right answer or not, but what the hell—

“I’ve never really thought about it. Everyone kinda knows about it from that book that came out, but I just— I honestly don’t think it would turn me on to tie a woman up…” Frankie trails off. Was that the right answer? Are you going to be upset?

He’s reassured by your chuckle and the way that you lean closer, grasping the back of his hand with your soft one, giving him a quick squeeze and a pat before you let go to take another sip of your drink.

“Good. Okay, that’s good for me to know.”

Frankie wonders where this is going, because if it turns out that he’s not what you’re looking for… he might just swear off dating altogether, become a monk and go live out the rest of his life somewhere remote, somewhere that would wipe the stain of utter disappointment from his psyche.

“I’m actually not looking for someone to tie me up,” you smile.

And Frankie is relieved again, happy to continue the conversation as long as you’ll keep smiling at him like that. He relaxes his shoulders, trying to drain the tension built up from the rollercoaster of unease and happiness that he’s been riding for the past thirty minutes. He wishes he was cooler, more like Pope, more outgoing like Benny, as self-assured as Will—then maybe he would stop psyching himself out and just be able to go with the flow.

“And I’m not necessarily looking for someone that I can tie up, but I do like being in charge.” You wink at him, and Frankie feels something warm behind his sternum. Interesting.

“Would you be open to that, Frankie? Would you like me to be in charge of you?”

His cock immediately stirs at that, and Frankie swallows hard. Images of you standing over him in a vinyl bustier and stiletto-heeled boots suddenly flash through his brain.

A blindfold. Handcuffs. Spankings.

Frankie feels lightheaded, all of his blood rushing south as he opens his suddenly-dry mouth and closes it again, blinking rapidly to try to come up with something that isn’t just heavy breathing and awkward noises.

He nods, having no clue about where this idea has been all his life. Of course you would be in charge, you’re so perfect for it.

A parade of ex-girlfriends marches through his mind, and now it’s like a spotlight is shining on his memories, showing everything in crystal clear detail. Frankie recognizes that his favorite women, the ones he had fallen madly in love with throughout his life—they were the strong ones, the bossy ones—all the way back to his first crush in elementary school.

A girl named Maria with long, straight black hair in a ponytail had chased him around the playground, taunting him with threats of a kiss. Frankie had been embarrassed when he tripped and fell, the other kids laughing at him, one boy shouting that he had brought the dreaded curse of ‘girl cooties’ upon himself. But when the girl kneeled over him, blocking out the sun, she was backlit perfectly and looked just like Frankie had imagined an angel would. She kissed his cheek with a loud smack, Frankie’s heart did a flip, and he wondered why her strawberry lip gloss suddenly smelled so good.

When she ran off to find another victim, disappointment flooded his chest. Frankie had felt the phantom kiss lingering on his skin for days, wondering if and when he could get her to chase him again. Whether he could earn another kiss, another brush with sweetness.

“Yeah—” Frankie’s voice cracks again, and he swallows hard.  “I—fuck, yes. Sorry for my language, I just… how did you know?”

Your mouth turns up and your eyes flash amusement, but he can tell you’re not laughing at him, you’re just pleased with his answer. And there goes that warm sensation flooding his guts again, his heart beating just a tad more rapidly at the images that are now somersaulting through his brain.

You, fully in charge, dressed for a day at the office. Frankie on his knees in front of you, naked and vulnerable. Your soft hand cradling his jaw. Your firm voice calling him a ‘good boy,’ telling him he’s done well, telling him you’re proud of him.

Frankie bites his lip, huffing out a breath to calm his racing thoughts.

“Well, I’ve been doing this for a while, and I’m not shy about asking for what I want,” you smile.

You shrug. “It’s not like I’m psychic. If you’d said ‘no’ there would be no hard feelings on my part. I’d simply pay for your beer and send you on your way.”

Frankie chuckles and shakes his head, full of wonderment at how perfect you are. How you seemed to read him so well and pull him in, make him want to do things for you, serve you, be whatever you need him to be. It doesn’t feel manipulative—it feels like it’s meant to be. Fated. Predestined. And Frankie wants to follow you wherever you’re about to lead him.

“So,” Frankie grins. “Where do we start?”

You chuckle at Frankie’s eagerness and squeeze his hand before walking him through the basics. Testing. Contraception. The ins and outs of the arrangement you’re looking for. You introduce him to a confidential online sexual preferences quiz, guiding him through how the website will take his answers, compare them to yours, and the list of results will only show things that you both agree on. You’ll build out your domme/sub agreement from that list, and you also make it very clear to Frankie that he’s in charge.

He quirks an eyebrow at that. “Me? I thought… I guess I don’t understand. Can you explain that?”

You smile at him, so proud of this man for speaking up already and telling you what he needs. He’s so good already, and while you came here tonight with the intention of picking up a casual fuck who might be interested in a scolding and a spanking, you’ve pivoted to introducing Frankie to the bigger picture, walking him deeper into the forest, showing him the possibilities of long-term involvement. 

You don’t want to move to the bedroom too quickly, Frankie’s going to need a deeper understanding before you start linking his sexual desire to the dynamics of this kind of relationship. Ground rules first, build that anticipation, then you can start connecting wires in his brain and making sparks.

“I get it, it can be confusing if you’re just learning.” You take a sip of your drink, catching how Frankie’s eyes drop to your mouth, and the throbbing between your legs gets a little louder. “But I’m proud of you for asking. It’s a good sign that you want to learn more before jumping in with both feet.” You wink at him, and his reaction is note-perfect. 

He sits up straighter in the booth, smiling like he just won a prize. You couldn’t have planned this better, and you thank your lucky stars that the Universe saw fit to send this man into your life tonight. 

You lean forward and rest both elbows on the table, crossing your forearms in front of you. “While the dominant partner is ‘in charge’ during a scene, the sub actually holds all of the power in the relationship. You decide when you’re ready, you decide when you’re done, and you ask for what you want. I get your consent for every single thing that we do, and you get to turn your brain off and enjoy it.”

Frankie flushes pink again, and you reach out and take both of his big, work-worn hands in yours. “You’re doing so well for me already, Frankie. I like how you ask for what you need, and that’s a really good quality in a submissive. It’s not just about taking orders; you have to speak up for what you want at every turn.”

He gulps hard, his eyes brightening as he opens his plush mouth. “I don’t—I don’t mean to sound rude, but what do you get out of it?”

“Me? I like taking care of my subs. I like making sure that you feel good, that you get exactly what you need, and I like seeing the effects that a good domme/sub relationship has on the rest of your life.”

“What do you mean?” Frankie knits his brows and tilts his head a fraction, and his great big brown eyes put you in mind of an eager little puppy. The electricity buzzing through your core increases, and you have to stuff it down before you break all your rules and drag him to the nearest hotel. 

Control, you remind yourself. Dommes like you stay in control, both of the scene and of themselves. Breaking rules only confuses a sub, and more than anything, submissives need consistency. You’ll (hopefully) get a chance to make him make those big puppy eyes again soon, as long as you stay in control.

“Well, a good, healthy dynamic between a dominant and their sub builds trust, and when you have trust—something you can rely on—it carries over into the rest of your life. For me, it provides a sense of control that I may not have in other areas of my life, and it makes me feel good to make you feel good. Those good feelings lift me up for days afterwards. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” Frankie nods, encouraging you to go on.

“And for a sub, a rock-solid relationship with a dom can increase your confidence, build good discipline, and give you an outlet for all the other stress in your life. And I think you would agree that self-esteem, good habits and routines, and stress relief are all really important in life. Subs just get theirs from a different place than most people.”

Frankie nods thoughtfully, then licks his lips and ventures a question, his eyes flicking down to the table, nervous. “And what—what if I, um… how do I know if I’m any good at it? What if I do it wrong?”

You squeeze his hands, make sure he’s looking at you while you smile reassuringly. “You can’t screw it up, Frankie. You’re in charge, remember? There’s no secret test, there’s no hidden ‘gotcha’ moment. It’s all about what you want and how much you want to try. There won’t be a pop quiz or a grade on this, trust me.”

Frankie swallows hard and looks skeptical for a moment, then nods again. “I trust you.” 

He smiles and squeezes your hand before leaning back.

After making sure that Frankie has digested all of the important information and that you’ve gotten his number, you tell him firmly to go home, sleep on it, and only fill out the online quiz tomorrow, if and when he’s ready. You shoot him a text so he has your number, and as he’s opening it, his mouth twitches and his eyes dance with amusement. A dimple appears in Frankie’s cheek, and you chuckle. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours, handsome?” 

Frankie flicks his gaze to yours and you nearly crumple at the sight of his crow’s feet, the adorable crinkles highlighting just how much his smile reaches his eyes. “Just—I mean, I realized I said yes to all of this without even knowing your name. So what do I call you? What name should I put in my contacts?”

“Missy.”

Frankie nods. “I like that. Is that short for anything?”

You grin, “It’s short for ‘Mistress’.”

Frankie blushes, hot and fast, and you see the shiver that runs through him, his broad shoulders quivering as he sits up a little straighter. He smiles softly and types rapidly, then slips his phone into his pocket. 

“And Frankie?” you add. “If you change your mind that’s entirely okay. You haven’t committed to anything tonight, and I really won’t have any hard feelings if you decide that this isn’t for you after all.”

“I’ll text you either way,” he says with a serious nod, and you know he means it. Then he stands up out of the booth, gives you a quick handshake, and heads for the door. You clock the new spring in his step, the way his shoulders are squared and steady, no more nerves or self-doubt weighing him down. 

He’s gorgeous, and you know that even if he does decline, that you’ve at least infused Frankie with some confidence that he can take with him the next time he goes out to a bar. 

But, god, you hope he says yes.

Frankie gulps, then looks around behind him as if he isn’t alone, as if there were anyone standing behind him who could see and judge what he’s doing. 

He shakes his head and huffs a laugh at himself. He’s a grown man on the far side of forty, and he’s hunched over his laptop in his own home trying to hide the half-chub he’s got going in his boxers like a teenager. He presses the flat of his palm down against his cotton-clad arousal, trying to stave off the throbbing long enough to finish this damn quiz. 

But it’s not his fault, everything he reads sends images of you pinballing around in his brain. Every. Single. Question makes him want to stop and rub one out, just to have the mental clarity to continue. But you had said ‘no touching,’ and damn if Frankie was going to fuck up and disobey the very first order that you gave him.

“Okay,” Frankie murmurs, “Question five: Give partner an erotic massage? Yes, fuck yes…” The mere thought of getting his slick, oily hands on you, feeling the warmth of your skin under his palms, being asked—no, being allowed to touch you and bring you pleasure makes him weak. Shit…

He takes a deep breath and swears he can still smell your perfume from the bar invading his senses. The urge to reach his hand down into his boxers and give himself a firm grip is overwhelming now, and he’s still got dozens of questions to go. His lower belly churns with desire, and he’s so horny it almost hurts.

He loves this. Then he hates how much he loves it. It’s sweet, exquisite torture, and Frankie is giddy, nearly nauseated at how excited it makes him.

His eyes had popped open at 5:30 in the morning, the way they always did after so many years of active duty. No alarm except the morning wood that was raging in his underwear, barely able to get it to go down enough to pee. He had woken to thoughts of you, memories of the bar last night, of the way you had taken control of the conversation and opened his eyes to something that he hadn’t even known was possible.

Frankie had done his best to distract himself, doing laundry and dishes, taking a quick jog and doing 200 push-ups and then showering, filling the hours until closer to 8:00, a decent time when he could text you. His thumb hovered over the ‘send’ arrow, still unsure of the text he was about to blast into the ether, two words he’d finally crafted after a dozen drafts, each sounding more pathetic than the last.

His heart palpitated as the words flew to your phone, and he breathed a huge sigh of relief when his sparse, direct, “I’m in,” was met with a simple, “Good boy,” and a few short instructions. 

Take the quiz. Answer honestly. Don’t touch yourself.

Frankie’s eyes had nearly bugged out of his head at the last one, and he briefly thought about pushing back, but he realized this was his first real opportunity to show you how good he could be, how well he could listen. There was no way he was going to disappoint you if he could help it.

He shot off his reply breathlessly, “Yes ma’am,” and bit his lip as he waited for a response. All he got was a “thumbs up” appended to his text, but he reasoned that any response was good, although he did feel a little foolish. What had he expected? A novel? Gushing praise?

Frankie shook his head, reminding himself to temper his expectations. 

He races through questions eight, nine… twelve… fifteen. All “no.” No, he does not want to tie you up, spank you, or use degrading language with you. He doesn’t want to do any of the dominant actions himself, he knows this. 

But question sixteen arrests him in place, and suddenly he can barely breathe. Have partner use restraints on you? makes his tongue swell in his mouth, and his cock twitches violently as it steals more blood from his brain. He can’t click the “yes” button fast enough. Questions seventeen through twenty-four are all “yes,” because they are the opposite of the previous questions. 

Yes, he wants you to spank him with your hand, yes he wants you to tell him what to do in the bedroom, and YES, he wants you to call him pet names. 

Have partner use a belt/flogger/paddle on you? and, Have partner call you degrading names? both get a “maybe” but they make him salivate all the same.

Frankie grips himself through the black cotton of his boxer-briefs, and he wonders if this is going against the “no touching yourself” rule… but he also can’t proceed with the rest of this questionnaire without doing something to try to tamp down his raging erection. Just a quick squeeze, strangle the fuck out of his goddamn traitorous cock for a few seconds, and maybe he won’t pass out.

Frankie tries to remember the last time he was this turned on, but nothing since puberty has even come close to this. The anticipation, the mental imagery, the sheer desire that you’ve ignited in him is practically cruel, and he thinks about asking if he can see you tonight. And if that’s pathetic… well, then he’ll embrace being pathetic, because he needs to see you again more than he needs his pride.

He steels himself against the throbbing in his groin and finishes the questions.

Your phone chimes with an incoming text, and you nearly throw your knife down on the cutting board in your haste to grab your phone from the dining room table. You expel a few curse words at your foolishness. No need to cause a kitchen accident just because you’re eager to see if it’s Frankie. 

“Down, girl,” you scold yourself, and you grimace at how unlike you this is. 

What the hell is wrong with you? You’re the domme, you’re in control of yourself, and you’re not ever this wound-up over a guy. Frankie is a very handsome, very broad guy, but a guy nonetheless. Guys are playthings, scene partners, subs. Guys are people, too, but at most you get sexual satisfaction from them and give them some, along with spectacular aftercare. There’s no feelings involved. Not since… not since you realized that you prefer being the dominant one, not since Nick—

You refuse to go there. Ancient history, old enough to buy itself a drink at a bar by now. Feelings aren’t part of the deal, not since forever ago, and you refuse to examine why there’s a little flutter in your tummy when you pick up your phone to see that Frankie has checked in, a quick, “Done!” accompanied by his unique code for the online sexual compatibility quiz.

You bite your lip and wonder if you should text back… but you wouldn’t even know what to say, so you give his text a thumbs-up, then watch as three little bubbles appear, then disappear, then appear again. What’s Frankie up to? Is he changing his mind? Your stomach sours at the mere thought of it.

The bubbles disappear again and don’t re-appear, so you sigh and force yourself to finish chopping the vegetables you were working on and shove them in the fridge to cook for dinner later. During cleanup, you realize you’ve had one ear out for the phone this whole time, and you shake your head at yourself. 

This isn’t a high school crush. He texted what he needed to and that’s it. Stop being silly.

You dry your hands on a kitchen towel and grab your phone, settling into the couch with your back against the arm rest and your feet propped up on a pillow. You catch an anticipatory grin spreading across your face at the thought that you’re about to see inside of Frankie’s head. 

You enter his unique user code, and you know that you’ve used this online quiz enough times that you’ll fly through the questions. At the end of your answers, the app will generate a list consisting of everything that you and Frankie matched on and email you both. A single “no” is a veto, and that item won’t appear, but everything that’s a “yes” for both of you, or a “yes” for one and a “maybe” for the other will land in your email inbox in just a few moments.

Your heart thuds as you refresh your email for the third time. Is the website taking longer, or does it just feel like it because you’re giddy with anticipation? Where is that stupid email? 

Just as you clench your teeth and growl, the email appears, and your heart suddenly clogs your throat. You wriggle to sit up straighter on the couch, and you’re almost afraid to open the message. Will he be into what you’re into? Will you only match on three things? What if this is a mistake, and Frankie’s just not ready for this kind of arrangement? 

You breathe, sucking in air as slowly as you can, and then out twice as slow. Your eyes water as you stare at the subject line, and you tap your phone screen before you can talk yourself out of it. 

And there it is… 

He’s perfect. You knew it, had felt it in your bones last night at the bar. You didn’t want to believe it, to place so much trust in something that might fall through, but here it is in front of you. Frankie is your perfect match. You couldn’t have designed a better sub if you tried. He’s into everything that you could want, and now you’re drooling at the possibilities.

You arch an eyebrow at a few of his answers. Frankie’s apparently an adventurous boy, and he’s checked off a few questions that surprise you, things that you wouldn’t have thought he’d be ready to try. But those can come later. 

Right now, you’ve got an aching throb building in your core, and you sigh and plop your phone down on your stomach, wondering if it’s too soon to text Frankie and ask him to meet you somewhere. And just as you’re trying to figure out how to phrase it without sounding too desperate, your phone pings.

You pick it up to see the notification, and a wide grin spreads across your face. It’s from Frankie, and you swipe hurriedly to open the text, your heart fluttering as you read it once, then again, and again. 

I don’t want to sound too eager, trying to stay cool here. But I would really love to see you again. Soon.

You sigh, bite your lip, and try to stop the butterflies that are exploding in your gut. You know this isn’t normal, and you can already tell that these feelings—this crush you have on the tall, broad, eager man—are nothing but a recipe for disaster. But you can’t bring yourself to deny it… 

You’ve got it bad for Frankie, and you’re typing out an equally eager response before you can stop yourself.

Frankie paces, trying to ignore both his erection and the nerves that are shredding his stomach. He refuses to stare at his phone and wait to see if you’ll respond to his desperate, pathetic message… so he just treads a path from the kitchen, to the living room, to his bedroom, and back. Frankie keeps his eyes pinned to the ceiling or the walls. Anywhere but down, to avoid the sight of his fucking ridiculous hard-on.

Don’t be a dumbass, Morales. She’ll text you when she texts you. You just gotta—

His head buzzes when he suddenly remembers the second half of the quiz process—the email showing what you matched him on—and he practically runs back to his laptop, stubbing his toe on the coffee table, landing awkwardly in his rolling chair and nearly tumbling out of it. His fingers shake, fumbling to open his email program, looking to see if the results are there, and oh, shit… there it is, top of the inbox. A detonator that could blow his whole world wide open.

Frankie’s heart races in his throat, and he’s suddenly scared of what he’ll see if he clicks to open the email. 

Does she…? Will she want…? What if…?

He gulps, and his pupils blow wide when he sees that you’ve matched him on nearly everything that he’s been fantasizing about for the past twelve hours since he left you at the bar. Fuck.

He leans back in his computer chair to give his cock some breathing room, and his eyes scan the list as his hand drifts across his stomach to his—no!

“Fuuuck,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Off-limits, Morales. Don’t fuck this up.”

Frankie shakes his head as if that will clear the tumbling swoops of desire that are still torturing him. He breathes deeply, counting to four on each inhale and exhale, until he feels clear enough to proceed with reading the list. But he knows it’s futile, knows he won’t feel anything close to calm until he sees you again, and he hopes against hope that you’ll agree to meet up with him soon. 

And, shit, was that message too much? What if that turns you off? But what if you say yes?

And just as he’s trying to talk himself out of his worries, Frankie’s phone pings in the other room. *** The hotel bar is dark, buzzing with chatter as Frankie navigates his way between tables and guests. He dodges a few servers and busboys who are tidying up after a jubilant group of what he assumes are work conference attendees, based on their lanyards with plastic badges dangling from the ends.

It’s a few minutes before 5:00, and Frankie is still nervous, but at least his hard-on has gone away. He’d spent the entire day distracting himself with the tiniest of errands, the flimsiest excuses to get out of the house, whatever it took so that he wouldn’t spend his afternoon drooling at the list of quiz results or grinning like an idiot at your response to his pathetic, overeager text. 

How about tonight? 5:00? And a map to the hotel bar linked just below it. 

He’d responded with a cool, collected, “See you then” and then ran to his room to fret over what to wear. Frankie’s wardrobe wasn’t extensive, so at least the torture had been brief, and he’d settled on a new-ish pair of black jeans and the tropical-print shirt that Santi had ragged him about for years. 

“You look like you’re modeling for a men’s cologne sold at a gas station, pendejo.” 

Frankie rolled his eyes at the memories of Pope’s playful insults, then spent the intervening hours cleaning his Jeep inside and out, returning library books, and shopping for groceries before heading home to start getting ready. 

But the nerves had stuck around, and somehow Frankie’s hand slipped while attempting to trim his scruff, resulting in a patch so uneven that he’d had to shave the whole thing off. He’d cursed at himself, but then reasoned that if a clean-shaven face and a too-wild shirt were enough to turn you off after everything so far, maybe he wasn’t the guy for you after all. He’d polished his least beat-up pair of work boots and then hit the road, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel the whole way, his stomach half eager butterflies and half churning knots. 

But when he catches your eye across the room, everything settles. You wave at Frankie from your perch on a high stool, tucked into a table in the corner, and when you smile his whole world stills. There’s nothing else in Frankie’s mind but you. No more clattering of glassware, no more tipsy strangers talking too loudly, no more bodies blocking his path to you. Frankie feels like he’s floating as he crosses the last few steps to your table, and his heart leaps as you slide off your chair to greet him with a hug.

He folds you into his embrace, and when he catches a whiff of your perfume, something in Frankie melts. He wants to propose marriage right then and there… or at least pledge himself to you like some kind of knight in a fairy tale. You’ve been the focus of nearly all his waking thoughts for almost 24 hours, and even a few of his sleeping ones. 

He’s not sure what’s coming next, but he’s all in, and he can’t even find it in himself to care if this goes bad or he ends up brokenhearted. Whatever you want to give him, Frankie will take with open arms, and he only hopes that he can give you back everything that you deserve.

[areyoudreaminof]

Worth The Wait: An Elucien Week Playlist

Happy Day One of @elucienweekofficial! Enjoy this playlist of songs about fate, love, and patience that I hope inspire you!

Tracklist and lyrics behind the cut!

Love Letter From the Sea to the Shore-Delaney Bailey

Cause you hold in my tide I would die a thousand times Just to see you in another life I think I loved you in a thousand ways 'Cause you remain stagnant on my trouble days No matter how far I drift away You'll be there when I come back one day

Silence-Before You Exit

Talking Why's everyone always talking? Noise in my head, but it’s nonsense I can't feel nothing Guarded Don't overthink how we started Knew from the second you walked in This could be something Everybody’s looking for a love to start a riot But every time I look in your eyes The world gets quiet

Comin' Around Again-Amber Marks

So let's see where the night goes Maybe love's comin' around again

Why Don't You-Cleo Sol

Why don't you just let go And quiet down your ego Don't complain about finance I know your daddy weren't a real man Go ahead and live your dreams To me you're stronger than a whole team

I wanna see you smile Even when you think I'm angry It's true it might take a while But it's between you and me

Homemade Holiday-babygirl

Homemade holiday Catching rays, wearing shades Inside, dead of the night Who needs pearly gates? You’re the same, hear your name I die, bye bye

Forever & Always-Zeph

Honey, now we're older, but we'll never age I don't think my love will ever start to fade My attachment to you isn't subject to change My heart's yours forever and always

The Day That I Met You-Matilda Mann

But then you called, only to say You'll never love somebody else this way And though I'm still battered and bruised I forgave the world the day that I met you

The people talk, it's background noise I don't wanna hear nobody else's voice There's somethin' sweet about your scent It's like lavender came and never left

Garden's Heart-Natasha Khan & Jon Hopkins

I hear a whisper in the trees Where I am you and you are me You need to find a way back here Remember what I said: The space that is in between You have to fight it

Love Sneakin’ Up on You-Bonnie Raitt

Fever turns To cold, cold sweat thinkin about things we ain't done yet Tell me now I gotta know, do you feel the same? Do you just light up at the mention of my name?

Till Forever Falls Apart-Ashe & FINNEAS

Out on our own Dreamin' in a world that we both know Is out of our control But if shit hits the fan, we're not alone

Jupiter-Flower Face

We can leave right now, never come back home You're all I need Forget everything that we used to be Take me to another place, fly me up to Jupiter We can run away But I'll always feel at home with you

Lucky For You- Novo Amor & Gia Margaret

Lucky for you I’m nothing without The thought of starting all my days With the mornings when I see you I’m bored of staring at my face Every morning when I need you

coffee-Miguel

Old souls we found a new religion Now I'm swimming in that sin, baptism Peach colored skies we feel the sunrise Two lost angels discover salvation Don't you wish we could run away now?

Sardine Song-Lav

If I had a home It would be our tin can Caught in your red hair Breathing in salt and making you swear Please Who do I have to be? I'll dip myself in honey Climb into the spaces in between your teeth

Ends of the Earth-Lord Huron

To the ends of the earth, would you follow me? There's a world that was meant for our eyes to see To the ends of the earth, would you follow me?

Unicron Loev-Raleigh Ritchie

There’s something about you That takes my blues away Life’s nothing without you I can’t get through the days I’ll never be cynical ‘Cause you wouldn’t have it I believe in miracles, I believe in magic

Morning Dove-Genevive Stokes

We don't talk much When I'm around you I'm a statue When you're running I can't catch you But it's not time There's a way to your defiance so I'll wait to break thе silence

I'm On Fire-Bruce Springsteen

Sometimes it's like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull And cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my skull At night, I wake up with the sheets soakin' wet And a freight train runnin' through the middle of my head Only you can cool my desire Oh, oh, oh, I'm on fire

Worth the Wait-Kali Uchis

Most people don't know how to love, that's why they're empty Nothing will ever be enough, that's why they envy Gotta be careful with my heart because I love deep

How Deep is Your Love?-PJ Morton

How deep is your love? I really need to learn 'Cause we're livin' in a world of fools Breaking us down, when they all should let us be We belong to you and me

Taglist: @born-to-riot @asnowfern @cauldronblssd @dawneternal @foundress0fnothing @goddess-aelin @goghwilde @kataravimes-of-the-shire @iftheshoef1tz @acourtofladydeath @chunkypossum @amandapearls @climbthemountain2020 @popjunkie42 @queercontrarian @rosanna-writer @tunaababee @temperedink @lainalit @xtaketwox @cursebrkr @octobers-veryown @separatist-apologist @separatist-apologist @the-lonelybarricade @jules-writes-stories @velidewrites @melting-houses-of-gold @panicatthenightcourt

[deesseshesca]

Mystery reading ~ 1 

Where is life going …

Morning, pretty souls, today we are checking on this bitch called : LIFE. What’s good ? What’s up ? What’s popping ? I’m talking CAREER, FINANCE, LOVE maybeeeeee s.e.x.

I already found my winner. THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE THAT PARTICIPATED ! MUCH LOVE TO Y’ALL. 

Choose the image that’s speak to you and allow yourself to soak ONLY what’s reasoning with YOUR SITUATION 

Rules and Disclaimer 

I am the type of tarot reader to say as it is. Nothing is sugar coated but everything is sent with good intention. If you are not ready to face some truth, you should vagabond somewhere else. 

MINOR DON'T INTERACT WITH THIS POST 

MINOR DON’T READ THIS POST 

CHOOSE AN IMAGE

Basing myself on the legal age in my country which is 18 

PILE 1 (18+)

Moon (reverse), Six pentacles, Four pentacles (reverse), two cups, 666’ ‘���I’m sorry I put my career before you ! I’m trying to get out of debt… I’m willing to put time & effort now because I don’t want to lose you !’’, ‘’I’M learning how to love myself now thanks to you !’’

Your dreams are becoming a nightmare. You are breaking under pressure and your overthinking is running wild. You feel overwhelmed by your problems or your overthinking is paralyzing. You had a dream about a wolf and dog barking at you, we were so scared you woke up sweating. But what you don’t realize is that they were not coming for you, they were urging you to realize the urgency of your problem. You are in a constant state of anxiety and you project this upon others. You are the root of all your problems. Even if we take them away, you are still in bad shape. I really advise you to apply to some social help in your community regarding mental health. It might not be the best service but it will be a good beginning. Show some grace to your friend. They might not be equipped to fully help you, but they are trying their best. They are really here for you. They only wish to help and be a good shoulder for you to lay your head upon. In your heart, you know who your real friends are. Your fiance is doing so well, You are living your dream life and riding your dream car. I’m getting that nobody knows you are going through HELL in your mind. You don’t show it one bit. Is the only thing you control. Is the way you look so it will kill you if it falls apart. You bury yourself in workload just to distract from the constant voices in your mind. Several events are coming towards us. Before you fire a shot in your head, listen, is the way you are going to react going to determine the next few years in life. Don’t panic, do some shadow work, do some meditation and listen to some subliminals. So when the events happen you react in your best abilities. You might be closing this toxic cycle very soon. Allow change to affect your self-belief slowly but surely. Use your feelings and gut feelings. I feel you nodding your head in a negative way, but listen, if you can manifest a dream apartment and car in such a negative state. Babe not everything you are doing is wrong. Especially in this economy ! Give yourself some flowers. Stop putting others first. I feel like you hide your pain, because you don't want to feel like a burden. Babe I don't want you to hit the deep end. So I prefer you be a burden than a forever trauma for people around you. 

The remedy of a broken heart - Xxxtentacion

Romance 

Nine swords (reverse), Knight of pentacles, two pentacles (reverse), 6 pentacles (reverse) 

Right now there’s one of my closest guy friends that is showing signs of attraction towards you. Actually love not lust. You might not feel like jumping in because he doesn't know how badly life is beating you. You don’t want them to associate with the mess you are in. 

SEX 

TOOO BAD ! THEY DON’T GIVE A FUCK ! THEY ARE COMING IN ! Girl, he loves you. Before we even get anything sexual, he wants me to point out his feelings for you. Right you might feel like you sense a shift in y’all relationship but babe you have no idea how obsessive he is with you. Next, you will not let him hit quickly. You will move extremely slow. And he is going to allow you to take the lead. You might act like you don’t care about him, pretend like you don’t feel what he is feeling. But he knows deep down you are just scared of intimacy. You swear you prefer fucking over love, but him and I both know the truth. He's not letting your sabotage get in the way of y’all relationship. Girl you can play all the games you want he stays going to be gentle and waiting for you. Showing that he ain’t going anywhere. Never pushing your limit. Just happy to be in your presence. That man is going to book a hotel room for your first time. But i’m getting that y’all will already be in a relationship when y’all get down and nasty. You get a room full of candles and flowers like the one on the gram. For the first time in sex, it is not going to feel like you're distracting yourself from your life. But you will be totally immersed in the experience. I’m getting that your anxiety will be completely off. You might wake up thinking it was all a dream but nah girl he is really beside you and you are really in a hotel suite after having the best sex u ever had. You might try to control the whole experience and he will allow you to take the lead. He will always check on you : Can I take it off ? Do you want me to put my finger in, baby ? Does it feel good love ? You can take it all in,  princess .  (He loves using little names for you) He must be good at dirty talking. I’m hearing the type to talk you through it. 

AFTERCARE 

Y’all be cuddling. He will be keeping you close to him. You will finally let him in completely. You will apologize for letting work take first in your life and being emotionally available even though you guys are in a relationship. Because you were still very scared. But it won't be news for him, he already  knows it. You will realize how much you NEEDED someone like him in you life.

Foreplay- Shenseea 

PILE 2 

Temperance (reverse), 3 wands (reverse), Ace pentacles (reverse), 9 pentacles (reverse), 777. 111

You are not learning. I’m hearing Abby Miller: ‘’ HAVE YOU LEARN NOT NOTHING  !’’. Your excuse is life can end tmr and you might die at the very minute so YOLO. GIRL ! I can assure you, you will live longer than a month . You are not dying anytime soon. So… STOP IT ! Not only that but you have the audacity to feel unlucky like you ain’t the one messing it all up. Not only that, you are getting frustrated. I’m hearing someone around you saying ‘’ I told you so !’’. GIRL YOU DON’T HAVE MONEY. Don’t even try it. Stop spending money. There’s more money coming out than coming in. STOP SPENDING ! Girl, I'm your last warning. The universe is fed up with you. You are better at spending than earning. Is not even funny anymore …I swear. You might think I’m nagging but I'm stressing for you.. You are soon going to be in BIG PROBLEM.  YOU ARE NOT DYING TMR ! So stop the YOLO. Build some money discipline. When the universe will be happy with your change, your luck is going to come back even better this time. With the money, you will fund a new skill that will be more abundant than you ever have on your own. Your personal income will be 3x at least. 

Kobe - Fresh

ROMANCE 

Two words (reverse) , 5 swords, 2 cups (reverse), 5 pentacles

I feel you are in a relationship with someone you vow not to love but only to use for some money. Like you needed a place to stay. But it is just any ordinary man. Pile 2 you guys are the final boss of beauty privilege. The way your beauty is mesmerizing. Is like the sec that the male specimen lays eye on you, it submit to your every need. You are not at the basic level of having your drink paid or people always helping you. Men pay for your trip, your makeup, your luxury purse and everything you can think of, you will have. Every time you open up about it, girl be quick to call you an OF, when in reality you are fucking telling the truth. I didn't even know people like you exist. I thought my mind was playing games but one of your spirit guards was like ‘’If you can drag her spending, you better applaud her beauty’’. If you guys believe in past life, it will not surprise me if you were one of the prettiest princesses in the medieval and in the 1800. Like other souls may think that vanity is useless. But you know how resourceful it is. If you don't believe in it. Your beauty is something in the spiritual world that spirits admire to the point of idolizing it. I will not be surprised if you are of royal blood. Anyway, you are male ultimate fantasy. The man you know knows it. This is not your first rodeo. Is not the first time you use men for their resources. But it is the first time that the man  treats you like a goddess instead of a sex toy. He has venus in Virgo, his love language is act of service. He cares extremely about you. He cares about your well-being and your mental health. He is at least a multi-millionaire. He knows you are not fully committed to him, but he hopes that he shows how sincere he is, you will eventually open up. Everytime he try to have an emotional moment, you end up fucking him. And he's getting tired of it. If you don’t change the cards are showing me, that  is going to be too late. You  will soon realize he was one of the very rare ones. Let me tell you something, when he is done with something, there’s NOTHING that can make him go back. You are scared he is going to feel disgusted when he realizes how much shit you are financially. But believe me, he loves you too much. I think the concept of your love is foreign to you that you don’t even know how to actually react. Don’t worry he will teach you. 

You guys are definitely bilingual, you might be speak french 

I think it was essential for me to make a difference between your finances and the resources of others. I feel like you are living a luxurious life that has always been funded by everyone but you. And you can't even imagine becoming a rich man. Girl let me breathe some life into you. If you know how to make men answer to your  crazy desires that means you know how to market yourself. You probably know how to brand yourself. You've been jumping from rich to rich men, I know you pick more in their talk than I could ever in my economy class. Learn some financial discipline, learn a skill and you will have a sweet freedom. 

Streets - Doja Cat

PILE 3 (18+) 

Emperor (reverser), 5 pentacles, Ace pentacles (reverse), Strength (reverse), 0505,111, ‘’I miss making love to you ! I will do anything just to hold you again !’’, ‘’ I tried to replace you but it didn't work out because I’m madly in love with you & I was fighting it ! I know this is divine’’

Your life is a mess and it is your fault. Here I said it. I felt a lot of people sigh at the same time: ‘’Finally’’. You keep blaming others and hiding behind ‘’circumstances’’. You love to remind people of a glorious past you once had. Where you were on top of your game. I'm hearing Golden child gone bad. ( I'm even smelling mold) You were once the best of the school. The top employee at your work and winning trophies left right in sport, Now you barely show up to class. You always come very late at work. Because you keep escaping your problem You don’t look for help. You keep saying ‘’ it is what it is’’ Your finances might slow down but you're for sure taking a hit in life. You are feeling lonely and vulnerable. Some might stop here, but I know that you are hiding a bigger problem. You are actually a golden child turned importer syndrome. Back in high school it was easy to be the best. Now you are in a room full of people going as hard as you and you  feel like you ain’t doing enough or your result doesn't hold the candle beside theirs. You are stressed and miserable. Finally you don’t see the end of this financial mess. You feel like everything is expensive. But the reality is that you are trying to keep up with the lifestyle of your classmate. You have enough to survive and you are refusing to ask for help. Advice: 1. Buy quality over quantity. 2. Invest your time in a hobby that is free or very inexpensive so when you cancel your plan you actually have a good reason. And it stops you from overthinking . Also you are actually building skill instead of rotting. You have sadly fallen into bad habits but there is a way out. Unexpectedly, it is about to happen in your life with that hobby. You might find love or a job. Some will get fly out because of your skill. As crazy as it might be, you are on the right path. The right persons is heading your way, opportunities and happiness are closer than you think. 

Dans mon monde - GENEZIO

ROMANCE 

Wheel fortune, Star, 5 wands (reverse), 7 pentacles

Is the comeback of an ex. When he will make his appearance in your life you will be skeptical. There's so much chaos in your life and you don’t need more drama. Back then your relationship was rocky not because he was treating you like shit. He was emotionally close off. I’m getting a good girl and a bad boy. When you broke up with him, you swore to his face that your life would be better without him. Nobody can ignore your glow up. But your life is a complete mess and you are going to feel too embarrassed to show it to him. You guys are fated lovers. I’m hearing, red strings (ikyk). Unexpected meeting while you are running errands. You will look like a HOT mess. In your big pj, your person is going to be so turned on just by the sight of you. 

SEX 

I feel like when you are going to have sex, y'all would already be in a relationship. It will be in the daytime. It will not be planned, but at that moment both of you agree mentally that is happening now. You will be ready. Dress in white or pink pastel lingerie. I’m seeing small full perky tits. Bubble butt, you have bangs. Might be a brunette or blond, it can be a wig for my black reader. You are giving very doll vibes. The sex will be the best you ever had. I think he was your first. Since him had been fucking but nothing came close to him. Is not just because of love, the guy knows what he is doing. I feel like he has some sexual trauma. Like he lost his v-card very young to an older woman. And ever since he has been sexualising himself. He only loves being intimate with you. He also  fucked other women but none felt like you. It's like they were only there for his sexual abilities. While when y'all are making love, he feels seen, wanted and loved. Is also going to feel more better than usual because you guys are both open emotionally. You will open up before that encounter , he will answer some like ‘’ You loved me at my worst. Is a honor for me to be there for you and pour into your cup just like you did for me…’’Is going to be sensual, I’m getting DEEP love making. Is going to solidify y’all decision to try again for the long run. I’m getting a future spouse. 

AFTER CARE 

NO MESSAGE 

He has a big dick. Is hard for him to get turned on. But it is like he can’t help it when he is with you. You give the best head and you love giving him head. 

He has a lot of money 

He will fly you out to have this experience. BAECATION ! 

You definitely know how to speak french 

Bonbon a la menthe - Jok'Air

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Please Fix the Story- Side Part - Adonis

My first side part of two. Will plan for a second one for Liam. Hope you guys enjoy seeing it from a "hero's" perspective!

Enjoy!

Masterpost linked here!

____________________________

 I am the hero.

I believed this with every part of my being. Every cell and every atom within me screamed for me to step into the spotlight that was rightfully mine. The center stage that everyone longed for but so few could touch.

I grew up in obscurity. A father in a dead-end job whose lack of drive and ambition led our family to live paycheck to paycheck. Coming home just to drink and complain about work. I also had two older brothers who finished high school and went straight to work in the shop like our old man, with little regard for the world beyond our small town. But my mother… my mother was like me. She was a dreamer.

During my childhood she would read to me every night before bed. Classics, sci-fi, adventure stories… any book my mother could get her hands on. We explored world after world from the safety of my room as she read to me, equal parts excitement and longing shining in her eyes as she described faraway places and people that she would never get to see.

But her favorite story, the one we read most often, was a classic. A story of a brave knight, a hero. A story of a beautiful princess. A story of an evil dragon. I would listen with childish wonder as she described the princess being kidnapped and guarded in a tower, the knight and the dragon’s harrowing battle, and the happily ever after that awaited the hero and the princess.

“All stories should be like this one.” She told me confidently. “It is the best story in the world.”

She would point to pictures of the knight in the story book, a man in metal armor with a brightly shining sword. “When you grow up, you are going to be a great hero, a great man like him!”

I looked up at her, confused. “What about dad? Isn’t he great? Shouldn’t I grow up to be like him?”

At my question, her eyes were filled with sorrow and rage. “Don’t you EVER end up being like your dad. He’s a nobody.” She pointed at the book. “There’s no pictures of men like your dad in here, because they’re not important enough to get pictures. They don’t defeat the dragon, they don’t marry the princess, and they don’t have happy endings.”

“But Dad married you, and you are better than any princess!”

“…” She just stared silently at me for a moment. “Promise me you won’t become like your father. PROMISE.”

“… I promise.” I looked down at the knight in shining armor again, feeling determined.

I am the hero.

____________________________

My mother left us shortly after. Quietly walked out with her bags while we were all sleeping. My father didn’t say much to us about it. Just worked harder at his dead-end job and drank more when he was home. I watched it all, and knew without a doubt: My father was unhappy because he wasn’t the hero my mother wanted him to be. But I was different than him.

I worked hard, studied harder. Got into college on a scholarship. I was studying finance, determined to get into a career that would make a lot of money. To be different from my father. Packed away with all of my textbooks and papers, however, I still carried around my mother’s favorite book, the only memento I had of her, the only thing she had left behind for me to keep.

And that’s how I met Arabella.

My fairy tale book slipped out of my bag one day as I sat on bench trying to find a specific paper. I bent over and reached out to pick it up, but she got there before me.

“I love this book! Such a classic!” She smiled at me as she handed it over.

I fell in love with her smile.

We talked at length about books and stories. She was an English major, a lover of writing in all its forms. After that fateful day we spent many hours together. Talking, laughing, trading ideas. I fell deeper and deeper in love with her, fantasizing about confessing my feelings, and having her reciprocate. We would get married, have children, become successful, important people. Different from my father and mother.

She was my princess, my happy ending.

… Until she wasn’t.

“This is my boyfriend, Ben.” She introduced him with a different smile. I had thought I had seen all of her smiles, but it turns out that her most beautiful one, the one filled with love, was saved for someone else.

I hated him.

Hated how he seemed to shine in every space he was in. Hated that he was always the center of attention. He was a natural born leader, a great conversationalist, an all-around good guy that everyone liked. I hated everything about him, but most of all I hated the fact that he stole the love of my life from me. My darling Arabella.

She was mine.

But when I finally worked up my courage to tell her my feelings, instead of a smile filled with love, I got a look of pity and concern. She didn’t feel the same. She hoped we could still be friends.

I was humiliated. I thought I was the hero of her story, but I was just a nobody, a friend, an extra on the sidelines.

I was just like my father.

I hated my father, hated myself for being like him. But slowly, inevitably, my hatred took a new turn.

Arabella. Why did she not love me? Why was she ignoring our obvious connection? Why did she look at me with pity when I was so much better than that loser she was dating?

I hated her too. If she had never been there, I would have never felt so weak and helpless. I felt trapped in the sidelines, and couldn’t see a way to escape this fate of being nothing, of fading into obscurity. I had to do something. I refused to disappear into nothingness.

I am the hero.

So I fixed the problem.

And as I stood over the bodies of Arabella and Ben, my hand still holding the blood-stained knife, watching the blood pooling under them, rolling slowly towards my shoes. I realized the truth behind my world:

I was special.

The world froze. An inhuman being, the System, offered me a chance to work with it, to save the universe.

It was everything I wanted and more. Power. Prestige. A mission. I would be the main character, the knight I read about. I would be the hero.

It warned me that if I left with it, this world would be destroyed. I looked around. Now that I knew that this world was a lower realm, a romance story that I was a side character in, it all seemed so… small. Worthless. This world had done nothing but contain me, and I deserved to escape it.

I felt a brief flash of conscience. If I said yes, everyone I knew would be destroyed. My father. My brothers. My friends in college.

My mother.

Arabella.

But what have they ever done for me? I looked at the two options in front of me, and selected “Yes” with a firm hand.

And in that instant, they were gone.

And I was free.

____________________________

The System and I came up with a plan to save the universe. We tied all the heroes to me, to help me improve their character, in bonds called Fate.

But it wasn’t enough.

So we got a dragon, an evil creature who could be a good prototype for the villains in the lower realms. My nemesis to fight. But this failed too. The dragon was weak. For all its anger and desperation in the beginning, it soon became like a soulless, lifeless puppet. Silently completing its mission in each lower realm, often dying so quickly that I barely had time to influence the hero’s story. Punishments, threats… nothing worked. The nameless villain just looked at me with eyes that seemed like they belonged to something dead.

“You cannot threaten me.” It whispered. “You have already destroyed everything I love. My family is gone. I am alone.”

I felt a brief moment of panic at his words, but pushed it down and walked away. Refusing to dwell on the thought that rose up at his words:

We were similar. We both lost everyone. We were both alone. But we were so different… I lost mine by choice.

It didn’t matter. I did what I had to do.

I am the hero.

____________________________

We were getting nowhere. We needed something more, before the universe became too unstable, and all of the lower realms collapsed.

We needed a heroine. My princess.

There was only one option. One woman that I would accept. The love of my life, the heroine of my story,

Arabella.

I knew the System could do it. It was the god of this universe, filled with strange, unnatural abilities. It could bring her back, erase what I had done.

It had to.

After much arguing, the System agreed to “create” an Arabella.

I met her in the higher realm, the System had dressed her in gorgeous clothes, just like the princess she was meant to be.

I looked at her, and she was just as beautiful as I remembered. And she was mine.

But then everything went wrong.

She looked like Arabella. And sometimes had similarities to Arabella, such as a love for stories. But she was also so very different.

“Call me Bel.” She asked me one day, her eyes filled with frustration.

“But you ARE Arabella.” I felt desperate to explain.

She shook her head. “It doesn’t feel right. I don’t want to be called that. You mean something different than me when you use that name, and it makes me uncomfortable.”

What could I say. How could I explain? I bit my tongue and agreed.

It was so frustrating. Having my Arabella so close, yet so far away of me. She learned about our world quickly, and displayed an astonishing talent for fixing the lower realms in a variety of ways, but never once in the way that I wanted, the true and better way.

I tried to tell her about the higher story. About fate. The princess and the hero needed to fall in love. Our happiness, our love would stabilize all of the lower realms. Save the universe.

But Bel after listening to me, gave me a look. A look I knew all too well. It was the same look Arabella gave me in my original world.

A look of rejection.

I had become a higher being. Becoming the hero that would define all heroes. Much more than the silly hero my mother showed me in a worn-out story book. But still my princess refused me. She would leave me, just like my mother left my father for being a nobody. An extra. A background character.

I refused to let that happen.

I am the hero.

____________________________

I continued the story. She would be “kidnapped” by the dragon. I would rescue her, we would fall in love, and the dragon would be defeated. All would be right.

But she refused. She decided to die rather than be rescued. And then the System made her a deal.

I watched her disappear. I watched the foolish dragon make a bad deal to follow her. And as they faded from the realm, I panicked.

They had left me behind, the hero, the main character. I had to stop Bel from succeeding, from changing her fate to join the villains. She would accept her fate. She would be my heroine again.

The System, for the first time, fought me. I wanted my memories, control over some of the story, power. It argued that I would only push her further away. I refused to compromise.

Finally, the System agreed, but would only send me to a few worlds.

“She’s already visited twelve worlds.” It stated in a dispassionate voice.

I was in shock. “It’s only been a few minutes!”

“Time moves differently in the Void.”

“SEND ME!”

____________________________

A zombie world. I was the hero, Eric, already in a relationship with a cheerful girl named Hannah. She was a lovely heroine, but utterly helpless. As she stared up at me with love and respect in her gaze, I should have felt happy, content. She treated me as the hero I was, as the center of her universe.

I didn’t care.

She wasn’t Arabella… Bel. She was just a small little character of a broken lower realm. I didn’t need such a worthless being’s love.

I needed HER.

I turned my attention to Jason, Eric’s friend.  A pathetic secondary lead. I despised him, watching his struggles with disdain. Jason was a disgusting worm, following the heroine around like a lost puppy. Oblivious to the fact that she only loved the hero. He was a nobody, an extra.

He reminded me of my father.

I hid his role in Bel’s character’s death. Filled his head with thoughts of violence, planning on using him at just the right moment.

And when Bel showed up, I put myself forward as the perfect hero. Reasonable, friendly, respectful of boundaries. After all the time I spent fixing lower realms with her, I knew what she would like best. The only downside is that I had to play my role, to pretend to love Hannah. I felt the bonds of fate. Anytime I tried to break away from them, the System’s power would correct me. But I still tried my best, hoping that Bel would see beyond the characters we played, see the true me.

But instead, she paid me little to no attention. Only focusing on Hannah, or on the pathetic bastard of a villain who trailed behind her. He was as weak and useless as always, his character supposed to be the leader of a violent gang. Instead, he cooked meals and brewed tea, calling himself a support spouse.

I wanted to kill him.

But I couldn’t. I needed to be a perfect hero. Otherwise, my princess would never love me.

In the end, I failed. The dragon died, but Bel still didn’t look my way. She completed her mission and left the world without a goodbye.

Heartless as always.

____________________________

The System agreed to send me to a second world. A vampire realm. I played her brother Alexander. 

The realm was a disaster. I tried to be perfect, tried to be reasonable and helpful. But I had pushed too far from the character’s role. The System forcefully corrected me, treating me like a puppet over and over, acting like a foolish teenager in love rather than a confident immortal being. I watched in silent rage as the dragon married my princess with a smirk, calling me brother-in-law. I could do nothing but seethe, trapped in this cage of a character, unable to do anything but watched as she saved the realm again.

In the end, it felt so good to kill him. I watched the dragon die under my hands with a smile. And if Bel reacted poorly… well she just didn’t understand my point of view. She didn’t remember our destiny together. She didn’t remember that the dragon was a monster, a villain.

I just had to convince her.

____________________________

“YOU FAILED.” The system told me in the void. It had no emotions, no humanity, but even so I felt that there was a note of panic within its voice.

“You wouldn’t let me do anything!” I argued back. “Give me more freedom, and I promise I will convince her of our point of view.”

“WHAT IF SHE REFUSES?”

“Then I will make sure she fails her mission. Either way, we win, correct?”

“…” The System was silent for a few moments. “YOU HAVE ONE LAST CHANCE. SHE HAS NO MEMORY IN THIS REALM. SHE MUST FAIL. ”

I laughed. “She will.”

I did everything I could. Desperate, this time I resorted to all means: kidnapping, drugging her, lying to her. I betrayed the whole world to the alien race, trying to force her mission to fail.

But she still won. She still refused me, even when her mind and body were falling apart.

And with her power, she restarted our story in the higher realm. She chose the dragon again. She chose to reject fate. And at the end of it I realized her plan was never just to simply join the villain. She became the new System. She became a god.

____________________________

She looked at me, filled with a power I would never know. Standing next to the love of her life that wasn’t me. And I couldn’t help but wonder:

Had I really been so wrong?

“I have a much better ‘fate’ in store for you:” She told me. Smiling a smile I had never seen before. Different from any I had ever seen before A cruel smile. And I truly believed in the depths of my soul, that she was not, she never had been Arabella. The girl I thought I loved, died on the ground after I stabbed her in the heart. Not even her body was left behind as I destroyed the world behind me.

I am the hero.

“You will be banished to a lower realm. To live out your days as an insignificant side character.”

Her power lifted me off the ground, healing the wound in my side. I was helpless against it. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be! I was the knight! The hero! I would defeat the dragon, save the princess. I would live happily ever after!

“NO! YOU CAN’T!!!”

I am the hero.

“By day, you will remember nothing… but every night, your memories of the higher realms will be returned to you, just enough so you can always live in regret for what you have done.”

“NO!” I struggled against her powers, but there was nothing I could do. I stared into her eyes. So familiar, but foreign. And filled with nothing but weary disdain. I knew that look, knew it all too well. It was the look sealed into my heart, in the depths of my worst nightmares.

It was the look my mother gave my father the night she left. That look couldn’t be for me. It was for nobodies. For extras. For people of no importance. Not for me. Never for me.

I am the hero.

“You must accept your fate, Adonis. Goodbye.”

____________________________

“Heading home, Adler?”

Craig, the middle-aged man in the cubicle next to mine, spoke up as I stood up at my desk.  His space was decorated with miscellaneous motivational signs and pictures of his smiling family. He hid a space heater under his desk, but everyone liked him too much to report it to the manager.

“Yeah, shouldn’t you be done for the day too?” I responded blandly, putting on my coat and walking away. I didn’t really want to get drawn in to a long conversation, which Craig was well known for. From a distance I saw a man and a woman talking, and felt a tightening in my chest. I didn’t want to talk to them, but I couldn’t resist saying hi to her.

“Hi Anne.” I joined the conversation between the two, ignoring the flicker of frustration that crossed her expression. Hopefully she’s just tired. “… Hi Brad.” I added after a long hesitation.

They both greeted me, and fell into an awkward silence. I knew they wanted me to leave, but a strange stubbornness kept my feet rooted in place. “Have you heard about that new movie about knights and dragons that’s coming out soon?”

Anne still seemed annoyed, but showed a brief look of interest at my question. “Oh yeah! I’ve been wanting to go see that one!”

Then would you like to go with me? I bit the words back before they could slip out. It would not go over well, especially with Brad, Anne’s boyfriend standing next to me. Instead, I said something I didn’t mean. “Maybe we could all go see it as a group?”

“Maybe.” Her response was noncommittal.

“…”

“…”

After the silence stretched on too long, I finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Well, have a good night.”

They both waved silently at me, and returned to their conversation with one another, never sparing another glance my way.

I walked away, feeling uncomfortable.

My apartment was empty. I had considered pets, but it would be too much extra cost to the monthly lease. I turned on the light, set down my coat, and looked around with a sigh. The room was pretty bare. I had a few sparse decorations, but couldn’t be bothered to do more. All I needed was a few pieces of furniture, and multiple shelves of books.  I made myself a quick microwave dinner, and since I had finished my latest book last night, went searching through the bookshelves for what I wanted to read next.

My hand paused over a well-worn book. It was a classic story, about knights and princesses and dragons. Basic, childish almost, but I always felt drawn to it. I picked it up once more, and settled down to read.

Passing a quiet evening, I got ready to sleep. I stared up at the ceiling above my bed, a strange emptiness within me.

I wonder what Anne is doing now?

A sigh escaped me. I knew she didn’t return my feelings. She didn’t even like me as a friend.

I’m just not the guy for her. And I need to be content with that.

After all, it's not like I'm the hero of a fairy tale.

With that last melancholy thought, I fell asleep, my hands still clutching the book of fairy tales.

…

…

…

And I remembered.

I remembered everything.

I was the higher-level being Adonis. Hero of the universe. Cast aside by Bel. Banished to a lower realm.

And now I was powerless.

Helpless.

Nothing.

THIS ISN’T RIGHT!!! THIS ISN’T ME!!! I AM SPECIAL. I AM MEANT FOR GREATNESS!

I AM THE HERO!

I woke up, shaking in terror and agony. My trembling hands clutched my sweat soaked face. And in the dull light of the sunrise streaming through the window into my bare and empty apartment…. I screamed.

I tried to hold onto my memories, but I could already feel them fading away. I would once again become Adler, the pencil pushing nobody who read fantasy books and nursed a silent crush on a woman at work who already had a boyfriend.

Until night came again. And I remembered once more.

This was my punishment.

This was my hell.

My only solace was that in this lower realm I was mortal. I would grow old. I would eventually die. And I would be free from this wretched existence.

My memories grew foggy, confused.

I thought of my mother, of my promise to her to be the hero of her story book. I thought of Arabella, of her bright smile that I fell in love with. I thought of Bel, our adventures, and her triumph over fate.

And I hated them all.

“NOOOOOO!” My anguished cry tore through the apartment, but there was no one around to hear it.

“I AM THE HERO!!! THEY ARE NOTHING!” I tried to scramble out of the bed, desperate to run away, to escape.

“I AM THE HERO!!!” I fell to my knees, my thoughts becoming vague.

“I AM… THE… HERO!” I desperately held onto the word. I knew it was important.

“I…. AM….”

I blinked, feeling confused.

“What was I saying?”  Wiping my forehead, I grimaced as it came away with a cold sweat. “Must have had a nightmare.”

I stood up, heading to the bathroom to shower. I had a long day of work ahead of me. I had several reports due soon, and maybe… just maybe… I could catch a glimpse of Anne when I passed by on my lunch break.

As I walked towards the shower, I caught sight of my face in the mirror, and came to a stop. As I stood there, staring into my own eyes, I felt the strangest urge to scream.

But it quickly passed and I went back to getting ready for my day.

“Hopefully tonight I sleep better.” I muttered to myself, looking away and closing the door behind me.

I didn’t want to be late to work.

[furiousgoldfish]

We were talking about the struggle of getting survival information and skills, because the abusers gatekeep that information and lie about how tough it is to survive out there, so I'm going to open up my askbox today specifically for those seeking information about survival and life skills! It doesn't matter what age you are, if you have a question and nobody to ask to explain it to you, I'll give my best. There's some things I don't know, and in that case, maybe one of the readers will be able to answer instead of me.

I know these are all researcheable on the internet, but we're often shut down and discouraged from even doing research, and it's easier to ask someone to tell you what they know and think, to get an idea without having to do extensive research. I also welcome anyone who learned a lot from a specific resource, to share the resource! Sometimes just being pointed to the right resource helps a lot.

It's anonymous, so it doesn't matter what age you are, I'm going to assume you're all young and just trying to get some basic info, no question is too dumb or ignorant, and if I don't know the answer, at least you can be sure not to be told off or that 'you should know this'. Nobody has information materialize inside of their brain out of nothing, and everyone has the right to ask. For me it has been healing to be able to ask questions and get answers, and I want everyone to at least have that experience. And you can ask about whatever, if you think you have a medical issue and aren't sure if it's serious, you can ask that. If you're lost about how finances work, I only know about my own country's situation so I can tell you what I'm familiar with. (I'm not in the US so I can't tell you how things work over there).

I'll only do this for today, feel free to send messages in the next 24 hours.

[ceasarslegion]

I know i have a lot of teenagers who follow me because i dont baby talk to them regarding things like drugs and alcohol and sex. So i wanted to throw out some advice that still saves my ass every day as an adult that i learned to instill in myself as a teenager:

-Learn how to keep house. I know that every adult is beating job skills into you right now and its overwhelming to say to least, but no matter what you end up doing with your life, you will need to know how to cook and clean and budget and go grocery shopping and do laundry and the dishes and x y z. You will need to know how to work with cleaning products like bleach safely and without creating mustard gas by accident. If you figure that out now, you will be able to take care of yourself for the rest of your life. Those are skills that you WILL need every day in the real world no matter what.

-i want to asterix the budgeting part. I know way too many grown adults who could be doing very well for themselves who are broke as shit and actively getting worse because they cant budget to save their lives. Managing your finances is what will often be the difference between living relatively comfortably and struggling to get by.

-dont get roommates if you can help it. I know you will want to, and it will seem like a fun idea to live with your friends and like nothing would go wrong, but roommates ruin friendships. If you can afford to live on your own when you first head out, do it. Trust me, paying the full rent is worth not having to deal with other peoples bullshit taking up your living space. I learned this the hard way, dont be like me. The only people you should be actively looking to live with at the young adult stage of your life are any permanent partner(s) that might come along the way, and you should rush that either. And taking some proper time to be on your own will do you so much good in the long run in realizing what kind of person you are and what you need in things like work, relationships, life in general, etc.

-you don't need a brand new car, and your first apartment doesnt need to be high end and fancy. All your firsts for those things need to be are functional, safe, and reliable. And you will love them regardless if theyre your first car/apartment. And you dont really NEED a car if youre an urbanite with a reliable enough transit system, either. Thats more of an individual thing if thats your situation. I live in an older apartment building with a stove from a brand that doesnt even exist anymore, but its real spacious for one person, in a nice part of downtown where everythings still right outside my door, and all my utilities are included. I pay 500 dollars less in rent a month for this than my coworker who lives 2 blocks away from me and has half the space i do with none of the utilities included because its all smart tech and luxury suites in that building. You don't need all that, you will not notice the difference when you actually live there.

-no one cares about high school tier drama when you hit your college years, especially if you go to an academically-based school. In my experience at least, the schools the nerds end up at think the d&d club is the coolest one on campus. This will pass, you will be fine. The nerds really do inherit the earth after you graduate, and all those bullies really do peak in high school. The guy who was the worst offender towards me in high school now literally pumps gas for his dads gas station because nobody else would hire him. Which is fine, its honest work, but it IS a tad ironic how things worked out there after so many years of telling me he'd be my boss one day. Yeah sure, howd that work out bud

-please dont get into drugs and alcohol just to be cool. I know every adult has treated you like some porcelain doll to be handled with baby gloves regarding any sort of substance, but if you choose to partake in them, all i ask is that you be informed about the risks, you do it safely, and dont do it for social clout. Its not the substances im most concerned about there, its that when you do them for social approval, you dont know when to stop or how to listen to your body telling you thats enough, which is a straight shot to a potential addiction. Its your choice whether or not to consume drugs and/or alcohol, but its irresponsible to act like theres no real risk involved in them, especially if you have the kind of personality more susceptible to addiction. Do them for yourself, in safe environments, as cleanly as you can get them if possible, and only after you educate yourself about what the risks are and what resources there are in your area for healthcare and counseling if you do develop an addiction.

-be selfish, but dont be a dick. Your young adulthood is when you should be selfish in the sense of prioritizing your own mental health, work ascension/schooling, etc, but you can do all those things without being standoffish or disregarding other people in the process. You should be there for your loved ones if you can, but if you cant, give them the common courtesy of telling them. A simple "hey, id love to help you if i could, but i have too much going on right now to spare anything. But im always here to talk about it if you need it, ily and im wishing you all the best <3" is way better than "i cant help you right now, i have my own problems to deal with."

[vampire-named-gampire]

COC day 16 - Punk

I've been waiting for this one! This is from my unpublished music AU Heartstrings, where Simon is in a punk band. No Baz in this snippet (he does come to Simon's show eventually, but let's save this moment for when the fic is actually out) but there are Simon's band members. I feel like this is the first time I actually managed to write OCs in a way that I'm happy with, which is part of why I'm so excited about this fic. This was beta-ed by the lovely @aristocratic-otter

900 words + I made the band using this picrew

(one of the characters uses she/they pronouns so do not be puzzled by the pronoun jumble in this text)

@carryon-countdown

SIMON

“Ow!” I move away from Bree’s eyeliner pencil.

“Stop moving!” Bree orders me impatiently, grabbing my face and making me hold still. “The less you move the quicker this will be over.”

I try not to squirm as they apply eyeliner under my eye, wondering for the hundredth time why I agreed to do this in the first place. It’s not like anyone’s going to see “how much it makes my eyes pop” if I’m sitting behind the drums. But every now and then, Bree manages to talk me into eyeliner, and unfortunately tonight she was successful.

“There, all done!” Bree pulls back, admiring their work. “It really makes your eyes pop.”

“Simon,” our manager, Jack, walks over, handing me my in-ear monitors. “Stage in 15 minutes, everyone!”

From the other corner of the changing room, Andre whoops. I fuss with my in-ears, clipping the antenna to the back of my trousers and snaking the wires up underneath my shirt. My drumsticks are on the table in the centre of the room and I grab them, flipping them over in my hand. Our stagehand, Phillip, has already put all the extra drumsticks by my drum set, so there’s nothing left for me to do but warm up and wait for us to be called to the stage.

I look around the changing room. Andre and Sebastian are both warming up on their guitars and Bree is getting the strap of her bass adjusted by Jack. We always manage to make the changing room incredibly messy between soundcheck and the actual show, but it’s mainly Bree’s makeup and clothes. Bree studies fashion and is basically a pre-show stylist for us all (especially me). Sebastian manages most of our finances and social media, because he’s already so well versed in it from being a tattoo artist. I usually help out the most in the studio, because I took an audio production elective when I was still at Watford. And we all say Andre is the one who’s eventually going to get us into some bad press the next time they catch him arguing with coppers or pissing in the Thames (or arguing with coppers about pissing in the Thames). We all have our job in the band, kinda. I like that. It gives us structure. And we’re not famous enough to be able to afford a lot of crew. 

I go into the corridor, as there’s no space in the changing room and start tapping some rhythms against the wall with my drumsticks. I’ve already done some warm-ups before Bree started their eyeliner campaign, so I’m feeling quite good before going on stage.

Well, I feel fucking terrified. But I always do. No amount of performing ever helps with my pre-show jitters—I’ve just gotten used to it. The first five seconds between walking out and sitting behind your instrument are the most nerve-wracking; after that,  it’s okay. Once I sit down, I know what to do.

“Simon, it’s time.” Jack steps out of the changing room to fetch me.  The rest of the band is already standing in a circle in the middle of the room. Sebastian waves at me as I enter and I huddle under his arm.

“Alright, boys and esteemed enbies,” Andre starts. “Remember, we’re announcing the tour tonight. Also, this stage is a little smaller, so we’ll just have to love each other a little more than usual tonight. It would be ideal if nobody fell into Simon’s drums this time, but if you feel the urge, who am I to stop you?”

We all laugh. Andre’s pre-show speeches are always ridiculous. And I don’t think Sebastian is ever going to live down accidentally tripping against my drum set the last time we played in this venue.

“Okay, let’s crush this. Chosen ones!”

“Chosen ones!” we all repeat. I tuck in my in-ear monitors as we exit the changing room and walk down the corridor towards the stage. Our opening starts playing on the speakers and I can hear the crowd cheering. My heart starts beating faster.

We line up to take the stage, me first, and I can feel Sebastian behind me clap my shoulder. I take a deep breath. Now that we’re behind the stage, I can feel the crowd, not just hear it. I can feel its pulse, its heat and I try to take in its energy instead of letting my own nerves swallow me whole.

“Three, two, one…” Jack sounds in my in-ear monitors. “Simon, enter.”

I run onto the stage just as the spotlights turn on and the crowd goes wild. I raise my hands to greet them, and then sit down behind the drums.

Okay, the most terrifying moment is over now. I take in the crowd. The Cloisters is a tiny venue, but it’s filled wall-to-wall now, fuller than I’ve ever seen it. I can see Shepard, Penny’s boyfriend, in the pit between the stage and the barrier, taking pictures with his camera. I know Penny is also somewhere in the back, manning the merch table.

I watch as the other band members come on stage, Sebastian, Bree, and lastly Andre, who garners the biggest applause. We launch right into our first song, Your attention please. I can feel all my nerves leaving my body now that I can finally play, and I allow myself to get lost in the adrenaline of it all. And no one even trips against my drum set this time.

***

OC pics!

Andre (vocals/guitar/shenanigans)

Sebastian (guitar/social media/half of Andre's tattoos)

Bree (bass/fashion/Irish)

Simon but he has a mullet (sue me) (drums/audio production/unrecognized piano talent)

[killiansprincss]

Nobody gets me like you - a CS Secret Santa gift

Merry Christmas @captainodonoghue , I am your @cssecretsanta2020 2024! It's been great getting to know you and I hope you enjoy your fic! It’s filled with sad angsty killian!

Thanks to @brucethegirl for being an incredible beta, for your intense editing on Christmas Eve night and also being there to listen to my rambles about my ideas and what would make most sense!

Summary: Emma Swan is single again for the holiday. Sick of her brother trying to set her up she enlists the help of best friend Killian Jones to be her fake boyfriend. What happens when the liens between friendship begin to blur and Emma begins questioning their relationship

Rated E for smut

Link to AO3

Emma turned 30 two months ago. She was in no rush to be married by now. So why did it bother her so much when she opened up her Instagram and saw yet another girl she went to high school with announcing her engagement, ‘Best christmas present santa ever got me’ ugh. The holidays were going to be a nightmare for cringey announcements like this.

“So I had a really great time, you uh wanna come back to mine?” Emma forgot for a second she was meant to be on a first date, this one from another app she spent far too much time on.

From his profile, he was nice, he had a good job, and nice hair. No holding a fish which was always a bonus. But he was just so, well, boring. He talked about his job non stop, something to do with either finance or consulting or business management. He worked at one of the largest firms in Manhattan as if that was meant to mean anything to her. But in the hour they’d been having drinks, he’d not asked a single thing about her or her life, and Emma doubts it’s because he knows everything about her already considering she keeps her dating profile pretty basic.

“Sorry I would but I have an early shift tomorrow. I’ll text you.” She has no intention of texting him, he’ll probably have forgotten her name by the time he gets home.

She opens her uber app once she’s outside the bar and of course there are no drivers nearby for 40 minutes. Great. As she’s about to go down the subway her phone lights up and her plans for the night change.

‘How fast can you get to O’Malleys?’

‘Give me 15 minutes. Make sure there's a martini with my name on it.

Killian. Her best friend since she was 14. The two of them both moved to the city after high school, Kilian went to NYU and is a high school history teacher, Emma tried college for a semester but dropped out, and now works in bail bonds. They’ve kept up their friendship for so long and Emma can’t imagine her life without him. Tonight was one of the many times they’d meet up after a horrible first date, they were both extremely unlucky in the romance department.

“Swan.” Emma gets to the bar in less than 15 minutes and sees Killian sitting at their usual spot with her drink waiting for her.

“So, what was wrong with her tonight? Vegan?” She guesses, “No gotta be a catfish, her profile said she was a scandinavian model but her photos were taken from some random instagram model?”

Killian smirks at her guesses. “She wasn’t…” He pauses to take a sip of his beer, “She was nice, but something was missing, I don’t know. And she was funny about my hand I guess.” Killian lost his hand a few years ago when he was in an accident with his brother, Killian was lucky to get away with just a missing hand.

“Well she’s a jackass. She might have gotten on with my date he was shallow as fuck too. I should’ve gone home and binged the rest of Love Island, given that Austin seemed only interested in talking about himself.”

Killian shakes his head, “rookie mistake, letting a beautiful girl sit there whilst you talk about yourself incessantly.”

Killian was a notorious flirt, he could get any girl he wanted. Dark hair, blue eyes and a hot accent, Emma never understood why he had such trouble with dating.

They chat about their failed dates some more, and talk about work. It was nice that she didn't need to be anyone uber successful around Killian, she could just be her normal broke self with a crappy apartment and a junk food addiction.

“So I got my invite to your brother's annual Christmas party the other day.”

Emma groans, “Don’t remind me of that please.” Emma’s older brother David was the epitome of perfect white picket fence life. He married his childhood sweetheart in an adorable backyard wedding and is sheriff of their small town. She loved her brother dearly, but hated how much his life was perfect and that he expected the same of her. Every year he throws a huge Christmas party and invites all their friends and family, which is a large percentage of their small town. But every year except one she has turned up single, and her brother would ask why and try and set her up which she always turns down.

“At least you still have a brother.” Killian mumbles under his breath. Killian had never really been the same since the accident, they’d had a huge fight with their alcoholic father and the roads were icy. Liam shouldn’t have been driving, he was in no state to drive and unfortunately they got hit.

“Well if you need me to help you fight your dad, I can do that.” Emma offers with a smile, she saw first hand how broken Killian was when Liam died. Liam practically raised Killian with their dad being an alcoholic who resented Killian, Liam was the perfect son and for some reason when their father would get drunk, he’d take his anger out on Killian.

“Thanks Swan, but I don’t know if I’m going to come this year.” Christmas was hard for Killian, especially given Liam died on Christmas Eve.

“No. Killian you have to come.” She grabs his arm and gives him her best puppy dog eyes. “I can’t survive the holidays alone with my brother trying to set me up.” Emma pauses for a second debating if she should share her sudden thought.

Unfortunately Kilian could read her like an open book, “Swan. I know that look.”

‘Hear me out.” She says and Killian groans at whatever this new idea was. “You be my fake boyfriend for the holidays. Think about it, it means my brother won’t be setting me up with anyone, and people will leave you alone and not ask you the dreaded ‘how are you feeling’ questions because you’re obviously happily moved on with your girlfriend.”

“Swan, you’re a bloody lunatic.”

“It’s only until New Years. It can work in both our favour. Think about it.” Emma had a way about her that made it so difficult for Killian to say no to her.

“I’ll think about it.” He promises and Emma smiles knowing she’d won.

____________

Emma’s in her apartment a couple days later, she’s just finished work and has changed into her comfiest pair of sweatpants that may or may not have a stain on them from when she was eating Chinese food last week. It’s been a long day and she was in no mood for drinks after work. She’s about to open up doordash when she hears a knock on her door.

She opens the door to find Killian on the other side, a massive box of pizza. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your fake boyfriend.”

Emma smiles brightly as she takes the pizza from his hands. She knew he would do this for her.

“We need some ground rules.” Killian tells her.

“I agree. We also need a story of how this happened. I’m thinking we ran into each other after we both had a bad first date, got talking and drinking and one thing led to another-“

Killian interrupts before she says any more “I’m gonna stop you there Swan. I’m not letting your brother believe I got you drunk and slept with you to trick you into going out with me. He’ll come for my head.”

Emma rolls her eyes, taking a sip of wine as Killian continues. “How about we simply decided we hated being single and went on a date and realised we’d been missing out by just being friends all these years.”

“You’re brilliant and I hate it.” She says. Her stubbornness couldn’t fault his idea. Her phone rings and she realises it’s her brother facetiming her. “Speak of the devil, now’s your chance to fake it, Jones.”

“Hey Emma, how’s my baby sister?” David says as she answers, she hated that he called her that.

“Your little sister is doing just fine.” She corrects, “I have food.” She holds up her slice of pizza. Her brother was a bit of a health nut, he and his wife were trying and failing to get pregnant so they were both trying all the remedies under the sun.

“Pizza? Really? I knew living in New York was rotting your brain.” He teases.

“Hey don’t blame Emma, mate.” Killian says from beside her and he pulls Emma’s phone to face him, “I’m the enabler. She’s had a shitty week at work and pizza is a comfort food, it’s healthy when you think about it.” For whatever reason her brother always liked Killian, saying he was a good influence on her.

“Killian! How are you man? Keeping my baby sister out of trouble?” It’s not unusual for Killian to be at her apartment, or for her to be as his, so David doesn’t question it at first. They catch up for a while, Killian tells David about his job and the kids he teaches, David’s wife is an elementary school teacher so they chat about the holidays and how some kids are off the rails this time of year.

“Is there any way I can convince you to come back for the holidays?” David asks and suddenly Emma is ready to spring back into action.

“Already convinced him. We’re coming home so you can expect a great Christmas Eve Party.” Emma snatches her phone back and puts her head on Killians shoulder for effect.

David doesn’t realise the implication at first and starts going on about how great it’ll be to see Killian again and how he can prepare the other guest bedroom. “No mate, Emma and I are together, so we’re coming together to your place.”

David is slow once again, “I heard. It’ll be so great. Oh Emma, I know you say you don’t want to but there’s this teacher Mary Margaret works with and he seems like a really great guy.”

“No. David, Killian and I are together, so we’ll be coming together.” She says once more.

“I heard you. I think it’s great you’re both coming.”

“Mate, she’s my girlfriend is what we’re trying to say.” Killian eventually interrupts, putting them both out of their misery.

“You’re serious? This isn’t a prank?” Her brother asks.

They both shake their heads, “I wouldn’t joke about dating your sister, mate.

Emma is worried about what he’s going to say, but eventually he’s gushing with happiness, “I’m so happy. I always thought you two would be so great together, but it never happened and I’d given up hope.”

Emma wasn’t shocked by his reaction. He would always pester her about why she and Killian were never together during high school, and when they went off to college together the pestering questions began again. Part of her wondered if this was a mistake. If her brother was so invested in their relationship, what would happen once they broke it off in the new year?

_________

Their flight from JFK into Maine gets them in at just after 3pm, they’d spent the hour flight going over ground rules on their relationship.

PDA - Emma was never a huge engager in PDA but they would also get suspicious if they barely touched one another. So small cheek or forehead kisses were okay. They weren’t horny teenagers.

No need to share a bed. Emma was always hosted in the large guest room, it was her room until she moved out and David would never dream of anyone else sleeping there when Emma was in town. In the room was a sofa by the window, they would alternate who gets the bed and who gets the sofa each night.

Keep the relationship casual. They haven’t been dating for too long so they don’t have plans to move in, get engaged or have kids. They’re having fun being together and that’s all it needs to be.

“You need to put your arm around me.” Emma whispers just as they’re about to go through the arrivals gate. “We need to look like a couple or else he’ll see right through the lie.”

Kilian wraps his arm around her waist and uses his free hand to carry both their suitcases as a good boyfriend would and Emma looks at her fake boyfriend with a smile. They had to get this right.

They walk through the gate like this, smiling at one another so they don’t even see David at first.

“Emma, how is my baby sister?” He asks, wrapping her a hug , “Killian, I’m glad you decided to come.”

“Hey mate, thanks for the invite. I couldn’t really say no to this one.” He says wrapping his arm around Emma once again.

“So, how long has this been going on? And why is now the first I’m hearing about it?” David asks as they walk out towards the car.

Emma glances a look at her fake boyfriend, he’s taken the bait. “It’s still kinda new. I thought you’d be happy. You keep asking me when I’m gonna meet someone and you like Killian.” She tries to keep it casual, she doesn’t want to make out like Kilian is the love of her life and break her family's hearts when she tells them they broke up.

“I am happy Emma. I’m thrilled actually! You two together, gosh it’s perfect. Mary Margaret was so excited when I told her.” Part of her wanted to believe her brother was happy about this relationship because she’d found someone, but part of her knew it was because it was Killian.

The drive from the airport to Storybrooke takes just over an hour, David asks questions about their new relationship, but he seems happy with the few details they provide. His main concerns are with Emma and how her job is going, if she’s eating well and her rent, he’d always been her big brother but a lot of the time he acted like a father. But Emma didn’t really mind. Soon enough they’re parked up in front of the house that Emma first felt at home in.

Walking through the doors into the familiar scent of Mary Margaret's cinnamon cookies baking in the oven, she’s reminded of the first day she walked through these halls, 14 years old, gangly and skinny with greasy hair and hungry. She’d never had a home that lasted more than a few months so as much as she wanted it to feel like home, she wasn’t going to get her hopes up. But then a few weeks turned into months and months into years and she was adopted when she turned 16. But Ruth and David loved her from the moment she turned up and she owed everything to them.

“Emma! There you are, come here I missed you” a voice from the kitchen says and out walks Mary Margaret with her pixie cut and warm heart that would make anyone feel calm. Mary Margaret and David were childhood sweethearts, so when Emma was around so was she. She was like a big sister, teaching her how to do makeup and helping braid her hair and was also a listening ear when she got a crush on a guy in her class, and then when Ruth got sick, she became like a mother.

“I missed you too.” Emma says as she hugs her, and she means it. This small town she grew up in was always going to be home.

Mary Margaret’s eyes land on Killian and she gives him a soft smile, her own mother died on Christmas when she was only 7, so she understands how difficult the holidays are for him. “I hear you’re joining our family at last.”

Killian looks like a deer in headlights, “I- uh- It’s still new with Emma. It’s not like I’ve proposed marriage.” He stumbles, “Not that marrying Emma would be a bad thing, she’s a great girl and I care about her.” He was struggling and Emma kind of enjoyed watching him suffer.

“I’m just teasing you, don't worry.” Mary Margaret says as her husband comes in the door. “You’re always welcome here and always a part of the family, whether you’re dating Emma or not. This one has a special knack for picking up strays.” She puts her hand on her husband’s chest, it was obvious to anyone the two were in love, had been since they were kids. Mary Margaret spent most of her time at David’s, especially when her father married a 20 something year old after her mother’s death.

Mary Margaret shows them to the guest room. Emma knew the two had been renovating the house and getting brand new furniture but what she wasn’t expecting was instead of the usual sofa by the window, there were now two armchairs and a bookshelf. The large queen sized bed in the middle of the room looked a lot smaller, too.

“I thought you said there was a sofa.” Killian says once Mary Margaret had left the room.

Emma sighs, “they’ve been redecorating. Guess they decided a sofa was unnecessary.” Rule 2. Damn it.

“I’ll take the floor.” Killian says.

“Absolutely not. It’s a big enough bed.” She tells him trying to convince herself more than him. “We just stick to our sides. No reason for it to get messy.”

—

Killian takes a shower first, leaving Emma to unpack and get her head screwed on. Dinner was just going to be the family, so it wasn’t going to be a huge event like the Christmas Eve party. It would just be the four of them and the grilling over their relationship would begin. She could handle it, they would work together.

“Sorry love, but do you know if there's a spare toothbrush anywhere? I thought I’d packed mine but it seems I forgot.” She turns around to tell Killian to check the drawer under the sink and is left speechless at the sight of Killian in just his towel, bare chest on show and the towel wrapped around his waist.

She’d seen Killian shirtless before, they’d been to the beach and she’d seen him running a few times with no shirt but something about this was different. His hair was still wet from the shower and she was very aware how naked he was under the towel, one wrong move and it could easily fall off and Emma’s mind wandered to what was underneath. She knew he was an attractive man, you’d be blind not to notice that, but he’d always been Killian-her best friend who had braces when she first met him and who had acne until he was out of his teens. He wasn’t meant to be, well, hot.

“Earth to Emma.” He says waving a hand in front of her face, hopefully unaware of where her mind was headed.

She managed to snap herself out of it, “right. Sorry, uh-bottom right cabinet under the sink.”

It was going to be a long week.

_____

Dinner was just the four of them at the house. It’s not a big deal, they’ve had dinner with her brother and sister-in-law many times over the years as friends. Except this time Killian presses a kiss to her cheek as they sit down and he pours her a glass of wine without her even asking. As far as fake boyfriends go he was pretty good.

“So how did you finally wear my sister down?” David asks, this conversation was inevitable, but they were prepared.

Killian smiles as he takes the lead, “Emma’s been my best friend for years and I don’t know what I’d do without her in my life. I mean I hope she thinks the same of me. I don’t think I’m ready to settle down just yet, but I’m so sick of dating apps, the girl seems nice but then I never hear from her again or I get stood up. I think Emma felt the same. So we went out on a practice date I guess to see how it went, and it wasn’t weird, it didn’t feel wrong, it felt like we were late to the game in just dating each other.”

Leaning into her role Emma adds, “He’s Killian. I’ve been on a ton of awful dates lately, but I know where I am with Killian.”

“It reminds me of when me and David started going out. Granted we were 14 and had no idea what we were doing. But being best friends with the person you spend your life with is the best thing.”

“We’re not getting married, this is still new. Don’t freak us out.” Emma scoffs, really hating how much they we loving this conversation.

“Maybe not. But we might be sitting here in a few years with a different situation.” Emma can only roll her eyes, this was a bad idea.

___

“I’m sorry about them. If I had known they’d be so excited about the thought of us together I would never have suggested it.” She says to Killian once they’re back in their room for the night.

“It’s fine, Swan. We make a good team, you and I. It's no wonder they love the idea of us together. Now are you sure about sharing as I can happily take the floor?”

It’s not that sharing a bed with Killian would be a bad thing, it’s that she’s not shared a bed with anyone when sex wasn’t involved. Even with Graham they were dating for about a year but she never just slept over in his bed. She’d done one night stands but she’d never woken up the next morning, she would get out there as soon as she was done. Sex wasn’t intimate, but sharing a bed, that was about as intimate as she could get. “It was my idea for you to be my fake boyfriend, I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.”

That night they go to sleep on their assigned sides and Emma sleeps well knowing their plan was working, her family believed their relationship and they just had to get through the next week. It was going to be fine.

Except it isn’t fine. When she wakes up Emma is aware of being warm, and becomes aware of two things:

Emma had managed to get herself entangled in Killians hold during the night, she was aware of his arm draped across her pulling her in close, so close she could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck

He was hard….

This was bad. Very bad

It was a natural reaction, it was just likely that Killian hadn’t gotten any action recently and his body just became familiar to a female body nearby, it didn’t mean anything, Killian wasn’t hard because of her.

Emma shifts herself slowly, not wanting to wake Killian. She just needed to move his arm from around her. She stops for a moment when she hears a soft grunt. “Mma.” Thinking nothing of it, she manages to move his arm and shift herself so she’s now facing him rather than being spooned by him and pretends to be asleep.

But that’s when the muttering begins again, “Emma.” It’s clear as day this time. He was dreaming about her, and he was hard. This was fine, again maybe he wasn’t having a sex dream maybe it was a perfectly normal, pretty platonic dream about her fighting an ogre or something.

She’s aware of Killian waking up but she keeps her eyes closed and pretends she’s still asleep just to avoid any awkwardness when he realises his situation. But then she feels his hand on her face and is aware of him pushing a piece of hair aside before she feels the bed dip where he’s gotten out. It was a strange thing to do but she doesn’t question it as he walks into the bathroom and she hears the shower.

Her mind is betraying her as she thinks about the past 5 minutes. Killian, her best friend and fake boyfriend woke up hard, was saying her name in his sleep and now the shower was on and there was a high chance he was letting off steam in the shower. Was he thinking about her when he rubbed his dick? Was he imagining it was her hand instead of his own? Did that get him off, thinking about her?

No. She shouldn’t be thinking like that. He was Killian, her best friend. She didn’t think about him like that, and he didn’t think of her like that. Unless he did and then Emma was royally screwed.

Breakfast is fine, maybe Emma is a little skittish when Killian hands her a mug of coffee and a bear claw but she claims she didn’t sleep well and he doesn’t question it. She needed to get laid in the new year, that was all it was.

The two are tasked with setting up the barn for the party tomorrow. David and Mary Margaret don’t have any animals, they always say it’s their long term plan, so for now they use the barn for parties such as this. So the flooring is fine, they just have to pick up some space heaters and finish up the decorations.

“I’ll go pick up the heaters, they’re at Granny’s and I want to catch up with Ruby so we’ll meet back here in an hour?” Emma suggests, she knows Killian would want to be alone and spend time at Liam’s grave since there won’t be much time tomorrow on the actual anniversary.

Granny’s diner was run by an old lady who somehow defies aging, it had the small town charm that a chain didn’t have and she missed it when she was in the city. Her granddaughter Ruby was one of Emma's closest friends when they were both in high school, Emma keeps in touch but it's never the same as seeing her in person.

“Emma Swan, you come home for Christmas and you don’t think to tell your best friend about your boyfriend?” Ruby was always one for dramatics.

She pulls her friend into a hug, “Hello to you too, Rubes. And I’ve been here less than 24 hours. How does everyone know about my relationship?” If it were a real relationship, Ruby would be one of the first people to know.

Ruby rolls her eyes, “You’ve become too accustomed to city life, you forget how fast news travels in a small town.”

“I was going to tell you, but then it all happened so fast and-“ she stops as she notices her friend couldn’t stop smiling. “Why are you smiling?”

“I’m happy for you Emma. I just can’t believe it's taken you this long to figure shit out with Killian. What happened that made you finally realise what you’d been missing?’

“This is why I didn’t want people knowing, my brother keeps acting like we’re going to get married. It's still new, I don’t know if it's because I didn’t tell my brother the truth that we actually got drunk and slept together and he was like really good in bed, like so good. We decided to test dating rather than an awkward friends-with-benefits situation. I don’t know what's going to happen to us in the future, but for now it's fun and not too serious.” Emma’s story was getting a little out of hand, but since this morning she had tried to stop thinking about Killians hard dick and how good it would feel inside her. She’d never given much thought to having sex with him until this morning.

“You and Killian are the opposite of fun and not too serious. He’s been in love with you since your first day here. He’s not going to run away unless you-”

“What do you mean? He hasn’t been in love with me since he was 15. That’s crap.” He wasn’t in love with her, she was determined.

“Killian was applying for Ivy Leagues, he probably got offers from Yale and Harvard, but he chose NYU because that’s where you wanted to go.”

“He told me NYU had a better history programme.” She remembers their conversation, she knew he was applying for a ton of schools and knew he was good enough to get into an Ivy League-but Killian was never about getting into the best school he just wanted to get away from his dad. “He’s not in love with me, he would’ve told me.”

Would he have told her though? They never seemed to be single at the same time. When Emma was 16 she started hanging around Neal, he was older and he seemed so cool to a foster kid who was used to stealing food to survive. He had his own studio apartment just outside of town and he always wore fancy clothes and bought Emma expensive gifts. He made her feel special, that was until he got caught stealing watches from a department store. Then when she was single during her first semester in college, that's when Killian got involved with his TA, she was older than him and Emma’s pretty sure she was married but she knew he was going through a pretty dark time in his life so she was not one to judge.

Then Emma started dating Graham, he was an NYPD cop she met doing bail bonds and for the next few years Killian was at college working on his degree, so they didn’t interact much. Their friendship took a back seat when they weren’t around one another every day or living 5 minutes from another. Emma was in a shitty studio apartment in Queens whereas Killian’s NYU residences were in Manhattan. Graham was nice but it just didn’t work out and when Emma got promoted and earned enough money to move to a nice one bed apartment in Brooklyn, Killian was burnt out after almost 5 years of studying and moved back to Storybrooke. That didn’t last long as he turned up at her apartment one night with a black eye and Emma didn’t have to ask who did that to him.

Their friendship could’ve easily taken a turn for something else that night, but it didn’t. Killian just broke down about losing Liam and how his father can’t stand the sight of him. That’s when Emma opened up about feeling alone and unloved until she was adopted and she finally had a family. They both had had a lot to drink but nothing happened, they fell asleep on the couch. So if it were going to happen, if Killian was going to admit how he felt surely it would be when he was pouring his heart out to her, right?

“For what it's worth, whether you believe he's in love with you or not, I think he’s good for you. You bring out the best in him, and he brings it out of you. Don’t scare him off, let him in.”

Ruby’s words are ringing in her head. Killian had been rock solid in her life. He was a constant reminder that people you cared about wouldn’t leave. Before she was adopted, she was in a foster family she thought really cared about her, they would talk about the trips they were taking, how the mom was going to the mall to get new clothes, but then the minute the social worker left Emma realised how wrong she was. She was used to people lying, leaving and she learnt to not get her hopes up or be excited about things, It took nearly a year for Ruth and David to finally break the walls she had up. Killian was the nerdy guy with braces who sat with her in math class and helped her find her way around the school, he sat with her at lunch and introduced her to Ruby.

Killian was her best friend. He was always there for her when she needed him. She broke up with Graham and then Killian would arrive with pizza in hand to cheer her up. She’d never really thought of him in a romantic or sexual setting before today. David and Mary Margaret were the prime example of marrying your best friend, so maybe being with Killian wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. She couldn’t stop thinking if Ruby was right and if he really was in love with her.

_____

David lent her his truck to pick up the heaters and the last of the decorations, when she parks in front of the barn she hears the radio station Killian always has on playing from the barn. She hears him singing along to the christmas song currently playing as a smile tugs at her lips.

“Nice singing, Jones.”

He stops in his tracks and his face turns red as he turns towards her. “Swan. Don’t sneak up on a man.”

The barn was partly converted from David and Mary Margaret’s wedding a few years back and a couple other people in town had since hired it out for their own wedding. Fairy lights hung from the ceiling down to the warm wooden floors which were decked with a gorgeous red carpet and tables along the back of the barn were dressed with red and green tablecloths and two large nutcrackers adorned the entryway. It looked like a winter wonderland already and Emma knew this was all her sister-in-law’s doing.

“Ruby says hi.” She says as she puts the heaters down, trying not to keep her friend's words in her head too much. “I assume Mary-Margaret left a very detailed list, so where do you want me?”

Killian holds up a list, a knowing smirk cursing his lips, of course there was a list. “She has left us in charge of the finishing touches. Add Red and Gold baubles to the tree, candy canes in the flower arrangements on every table, blankets on the porch. And my personal favourite.” He holds up a familiar looking berry flower. “mistletoe above the entryway.”

Emma rolls her eyes at her sister-in-law's ultra detailed list, she did not like leaving anything to chance. And she bets the mistletoe was David's idea before he knew about her and Killian, likely planning to trap her in an awkward situation with that teacher he’d mentioned. “You better stay away from me waving that in front of me.”

She expects Killian to put it back in the box, but instead he moves a few paces in front of her, “What will you do Swan? You know there’s a saying that if you refuse a kiss under the mistletoe you’ll be cursed to have no marriage proposals.” He was toeing a very dangerous line here and Emma knew she could easily walk away and he wouldn’t push her, but part of her was curious to see how far he was willing to go. There was nobody around except the two of them to force it.If she kissed him, it would be her decision alone.

“Who says I want a marriage proposal?” She was toying with him, she wanted to see if he was going to do what she thought.

He waves the leaves above his head and whispers, “It’s bad luck, Swan. You don’t want to be cursed.” And he leans in ever so slightly, waiting for her to make a move.

Her mind was racing. Killian was a flirt, he always was, and Emma always thought it was just in his nature, but with Ruby’s words still ringing in her head she was curious. Was this constant flirting a game or was he trying to make a move? Her mind wanders back to \ last night, seeing him dripping wet from the shower and then this morning. Was he a good kisser? What would happen if she did kiss him?

“I don’t want to be cursed.” She decides to hell with it and leans in closer, closing the gap and all of sudden her lips are on his.

She was kissing Killian. Killian, her best friend. Her fake boyfriend for the holidays. It shouldn’t feel this good. His lips are soft and she can taste the rum from the flask she knows he would’ve been drinking from at his brother's grave. His tongue is in her mouth and of course he’s a good kisser. She doesn’t know why she never thought about it before, and she can’t help but let out a moan at the way it felt.

They break away for a second, and look at one another, both understanding this was more than just a mistletoe kiss. This was wrong, everything in her knows this was wrong but she can’t help it. Killian drops the mistletoe and his mouth is on hers once again. Emma was a sensible girl 90% of the time but his lips tasted like danger and she was ready to let herself go to the dark side. His hand tangles in her hair and she can’t deny how good it feels.

They were well beyond the line of two friends pretending to date but while she was lost in the taste of his lips she couldn’t care. Hearing the way he moaned when her tongue explored his mouth, it was the hottest thing she’d ever known.

“Ahem.” They break apart at the sound of her brother's voice. “Mary Margaret sent me to see how you were doing, I think she’s stressed it’s not going to fit her vision.” Her brother was as red in the face as they were.They’d been caught making out like a bunch of teenagers and she was 30 years old for god's sake.

“Right, the tree needs the star. It's your party you should do the honours.” She backs away from Killian and doesn’t look him in the eye as she helps her brother with the finishing touches. They barely look at one another for the rest of the afternoon, and Killian resigns himself to looking over the table coverings.

They don’t bother to explain the mistletoe to David; it was clear they were having some alone time, who knows how it would have escalated. It should’ve been wrong, it was crossing a line. They had rules, clear rules about how to get through the holidays and Emma had broken them by kissing him. But she can’t deny how good it felt to kiss him and how she badly wants to do it again.

_____

Emma was on fire the entire afternoon. She couldn’t stop thinking about the taste of his lips and the way his body moved against hers. It was exciting and thrilling and Emma so desperately wanted to do it again. But she couldn’t. This was Killian, her best friend. She couldn’t face him without going bright red in the face.

She shoots Ruby a text seeing if she was free for a girls’ night. She needed to vent and Ruby owed Emma for the many times she had vented to her back in high school. Thankfully her friend is free so she shoots Killian a text so he doesn’t worry.

“I kissed him. It was meant to be a mistletoe kiss, something light hearted and unserious but god Killian knows how to kiss. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, which is wrong because this was all meant to be fake.” She says when she shows up at Ruby’s apartment with a takeout bag and wine in hand.

Ruby rightfully looks at Emma like she doesn’t have her head screwed on, “slow down. You kissed Killian, as in your boyfriend?”

Emma pours the two of them a glass of wine as she explains everything, from the decision to fake date for the holidays to how he woke up this morning leading to the kiss and finally how her head had been spiraling ever since Ruby said he’d been in love with her since high school.

Ruby takes another sip of wine as she tries to get her head around the story. “So he agreed to fake date you, with no promise of anything?”

Emma nods. “He took a day to mull it over but yeah he didn’t argue much.”

The brunette takes another swig of wine as she digests and collects her thoughts. “Emma, when you meet up with Killian in the city, what sort of things do you get up to?”

“I’m confused. What does this have to do with my feelings?” Emma asks, not sure where her friend was going with this.

“Just stick with me. What do you guys do?”

“Uh, we go out for drinks. We talk about our bad dating experiences. We go to the gym together sometimes or he’ll bring takeout to my apartment and we’ll watch a movie together.”

Ruby nods her head with a smile, clearly what Emma was saying was going along with the batshit theory in her head, “your ex. What did you guys do together? The cop-Graham, not that douchebag Neal.”

Still not sure where this was going Emma tells her, “We’d have dinner together, he’d come to my apartment or I’d go to his and watch a movie.” Slowly Emma understood where her friend was coming from. “Oh my god. Have I been dating Killian all these years?”

It all made sense. With the whole “Killian being in love with her all this time” it made sense why he spent so much time with her. But why not be honest with her? She knew feelings could complicate things but they told each other everything. “Was I that dumb this whole time?”

“That’s a question you gotta ask him.”

_____

It’s late when she gets back to the farmhouse. She doesn’t expect him to still be awake but he’s there on the armchair reading.

“Hey, how was Ruby?”

There are a million thoughts swirling around in her head, this was why she came back late, hoping she wouldn’t have to face him.

“She's Ruby. Terrible taste in relationships. She’s pretty sure the girl she’s been dating has been cheating on her.” The lie slips out easily, Ruby was known for having terrible relationships so Killian wouldn’t get suspicious. “How was your evening?”

“I had a run in with Brennan.” Killian had stopped referring to him as his father shortly after Liam died, and he went no contact with the older man.

“What happened?” Emma knew nothing good usually came from Killian talking to his father. He was a no-good drunk and blamed Killian for Liam's death.

“It was actually a good thing. I confronted him.” Killian looked very proud of himself, “I’d bottled up everything I felt for the man all these years. Even when Liam was alive I never felt like I was good enough, I pushed myself to work hard in school to get even a smidge of his attention and he never gave a damn. Liam was his perfect son, and in his eyes I killed him. He doesn’t even care that I lost my brother, he lost his son and that’s all he cares about. He didn’t bother to ask how I’m getting on with only having one hand because he doesn’t care. I don’t exist to him anymore. It used to bother me, but I realise I don’t care. Family isn’t about blood. You, Emma, more than anyone knows that. He doesn’t exist to me anymore and I’m okay with that.”

“I know Liam would be so proud of you.” Emma tells him, grabbing his hand and smiling wide. “And you’re right. Family isn’t about blood, but you’ve got David and Mary Margaret. And you have me.”

She loved him, she loved him as a friend and if she let herself she could probably fall in love with him. She just didn’t know if opening her heart would make it worse. Killian was fragile, he’d lost his brother way too young and what if they decided to date for real, and then it didn’t work out. Could they go back to being just friends after? She knew he didn’t have any friends or people he could rely on aside from her.

_____

The next morning Emma wakes up before Killian does, sunlight not yet setting in from the curtains. It was warm considering it was December. She notices the clock next to the bed says it’s just after 6am, and she was also aware of Killian’s warm body wrapped around her, it felt nice to bask in it for a few moments. She didn’t feel his hardness against her back this morning which saved her from another awkward moment, but his legs were intertwined with hers. She felt safe with Killian. She didn’t know what was going to happen after the holidays but for now she let herself fall back asleep wrapped in his arms.

When she wakes a couple hours later it’s 8.30am and Killian isn’t next to her, so she’s forced to get out of the warm bed and go downstairs alone for breakfast.

“Happy Christmas Eve!” Mary Margaret practically pounces on her when she walks down the stairs to the breakfast nook. It’s beautiful, what they’d done with the house. A fresh lick of white paint made the small wooden kitchen feel homey and large. It was the perfect family home and Emma knew any child with them as parents would be the luckiest child in the world.

Her sister-in-law explains the plan for the day. They had a few more decorations to be added to the barn, like the fake snow David was most excited for and of course the presents for the tree because he was one of those people who loved gift giving and spending far too much time and money getting the perfect gift for everyone.

Her first Christmas with David and Ruth she had been so afraid. She’d done Christmas before with a foster family and they’d spent so much of their time and money on their own kids, she was practically forgotten about. But Christmas morning, David woke Emma up with a stocking from ‘Santa’ and they went downstairs to open it up where Ruth was making eggs and toast. It was perfect. They made her feel so included and loved.

Every year after that David would give Emma a perfect gift, the first year after they adopted her it was a framed picture of the two of them with a cute saying about the love between a brother and a sister, it made Emma cry. He’d always make the extra effort so she felt included and she loved him for it.

____

Everything was in place for the party tonight, the barn looked exactly like the Pinterest board Mary Margaret was using as inspiration. She was actually excited for once.

She had come back to the house early to get ready for tonight, but there was just the small problem that she hadn’t stopped thinking about Killian and the things Ruby had said. When she woke this morning Killian’s hardness was not rubbing against her, but part of her wishes it was. He was driving her insane. She had never been this obsessed over a guy before. What was it about his blue eyes, and his accent, and the way he was a nice guy that did things to her.

Emma’s dress is a deep red colour, it was the perfect cut, showing just enough cleavage and her makeup is smoky, with a red lip to match. There was an issue though that she couldn’t do it up herself so she puts on her brave face and texts him.

‘Need help with my dress, please assist.’

She hears a knock not two minutes later and sees his head around the door, so she gestures for him to come in. He was dressed in his suit, all ready for tonight and Emma hated to admit it, but he looked hot.

“I can’t zip myself up.” She explains turning her back to him, holding the dress in place.

“A woman usually calls me to unzip her dress, not the other way round.” He says and she doesn’t need to see his face to know he was smirking. But still he manages to zip her up all the way, his hand lingering on the top of her back. She doesn’t move, as she feels the intensity of his hand lingering and suddenly becomes undone as he presses a kiss to her neck. She releases a groan.

At the sound of that he grabs her arm and pulls her around to face him and she takes the sudden opportunity to grab his face, bringing it towards her own and they waste no time in crashing lips together the way they had done before. His lips tasted of whiskey and sugar and it was the sweetest thing she’d ever tasted. It wasn’t long before his lips moved from hers to her neck, placing a kiss down the column of her neck causing her to arch her back.

“Minx.” He whispers in her ear and she can’t help the noise that comes out of her mouth.

She needs him more than she’s ever needed or wanted someone before. Her head was a minefield of feelings, she didn’t know what to think. But she knew this couldn’t go too far before they had a chance to actually speak. It takes everything in her to pull away from his kiss for more than a second.

“Killian.” She was trying to catch her breath, trying to sort her scrambled brain together. “We can’t. We have the party.” He was still kissing her neck and it would be so easy to say fuck the party and give in her to devilish desires to fuck him senselessly but no, David and Mary Margaret were expecting them and they’d worked so hard.

“Screw the party.” He says as he captures her lips again, and again she groans as she has to pull away for good.

“Easy tiger. Plenty of time for this later.” And she plans on revisiting this before the night is through.

The glint in his eyes is unlike anything she’d seen before, “you mean that?”

Emma kisses him again, “Definitely.”

___

David’s annual Christmas Eve party was a new tradition. It started after Ruth died. David had inherited the house and the barn and had no clue what to do with it, so he did what he did best and that was spend time with friends and family. And thus the annual Nolan Christmas Eve party was born. Given that everyone in this small town rarely left the small town, the guest list remained the same each year.

Practically everyone David went to high school with attended the party, he was well loved and as Sheriff of the town he was well respected. Mary Margaret was a 2nd grade teacher so she had parents of her kids come and celebrate. Even Snow's father and his wife would be in attendance as Snow didn’t like to cause a feud on Christmas.

It was a good excuse for people to get together, drink lots of alcohol and eat good food, especially as Ruby’s grandmother Granny was catering. At what must be almost 90 she was still a force to be reckoned with in the kitchen.

The barn looked beautiful, it was covered in fake snow and the eaves were covered in wreaths while flecks of gold and red shone through. Two large nutcrackers guarded the entryway where mistletoe hung to catch some unlucky couples and in the corner there was a large Christmas tree with presents that, knowing her brother, weren’t all fake. It was beautiful, there was no other way to describe it.

“This is incredible.” She says as she and Killian walk through the doors and she sees people in the midst of conversations.

Killian nodded in agreement. “Your brother knows how to throw a good party, I’ll give him that. Though nothing can beat the homecoming after party we had when he was out of town.”

Emma smiles at the memory. It was her first party where she felt free from Neal, she let herself have fun and yeah maybe she got too drunk for a 17 year old, but she had fun. She and Ruby belted their hearts out at karaoke and Killian was there holding her hair when she threw up in the bushes. It was right before Liam died so Liam picked Emma up with Killian who was in no fit state to drive either, he gave them water and made grilled cheese to help sober them both up before they went to sleep. She woke up the next morning with a mild hangover and Liam never said anything to David.

The two mingle for a while, catching up with school friends they’d not seen in a while. The handful of classmates who managed to get away from this town were also back from their respective cities, Boston or even as far as LA. It was nice to have an excuse to actually talk to people about their lives, instead of just stalking their social media pages.

“David and I would like to propose a toast.” Mary Margaret holds out her flute and raises it in the air towards their guests. “To friends, family. Friends who have become family,” she looks to where Emma and Killian are standing, “And most importantly, to the new family member who will be here next Christmas.” She holds a hand to her belly and everyone erupts. Emma has tears in her eyes at the thought of her brother becoming a father.

“I’m so happy for you both. I can’t believe you’re going to have a baby.” She hugs her brother, the tears still flowing.

“I hope you know this doesn’t mean we’re forgetting about you. You’ll always be my baby sister.” He holds the back of her head, the way he always used to when she was younger.

“I know you’re going to be a great father, you were an amazing big brother to me and this baby is so lucky.”

Her brother smiles widely at her, “You deserve happiness too, Emma. I’m glad you’ve opened your heart to Killian, I know it hasn’t been easy. But you’re surrounded by love.” She knows her brother is slightly drunk, he definitely needed that liquid courage for his announcement. “Killian has been pining for you for years, I don’t know what he said or did to make you take the plunge and go out with him, but I’m glad it worked. I’ve never seen you this happy, and you deserve this.”

Yeah, She needed to chat with Killian.

She finds him brooding in the corner nursing what she assumes is a rum and coke and his eyes light up when he sees her. “Congratulations on the niece or nephew, Swan. I gather your brother is excited?”

“Oh he’s excited for now but I know he’s going to be shitting himself in a month or two.” She laughs. David and Mary Margaret were going to be natural parents, but that doesn’t mean they’re not going to panic like crazy.

Things with Killian were just so easy. He knew exactly what to say, and she felt comfortable around him. She didn’t need to put on an act or pretend to be interested in something she really wasn’t. It’s one of the reasons why she and Graham broke up, he was really interested in politics and the justice system, and Emma felt like every date she had to research something to impress him and be prepared if he suddenly started complaining about a judge’s ruling. With Killian he didn’t care that she was clueless when it came to history, she knew enough and he was okay with that, she also didn’t mind when he would spend 20 minutes talking about the Romans and mythology, she would listen because he made it interesting. She knew he was a great teacher because of it.

“We need to talk.” she tells him, as fun as it was making out, she needed clarity. She didn’t want to be the one to break his heart.

They head outside to the back of the barn which had been the dedicated smoking area, with outdoor heaters and picnic benches.

“Are you in love with me?” She blurts out because she doesn’t know how else to phrase it.

Rightfully Killian is taken aback at the bluntness, “I - uh. Swan.”

Emma cringes at her outburst, she was making this harder than it needed to be. “I’m sorry, I’m not good at this. It’s just, my brother and Ruby have both told me how amazing it is that we’re together. Hell, tonight David said you’ve been pining for years and asked what it was that finally won me over.” She notices Killian getting redder the more she explains. “Ruby made me realise that we’ve been dating for years without even realising it. And I want you to know that was never my intention.”

“You never looked at me in high school probably because I was an acne ridden teenage boy with pretty horrible hygiene. Your attention was on an older guy in the wrong crowd who was cool and dangerous, but he broke your heart. You didn’t see me because my brother died and my father hated me, so how could you look at me and not pity me? You were the most beautiful girl in school, Emma. And I was so lucky you decided to be my friend. If you never loved me that would be okay, because you were my friend. Maybe I was foolish to think maybe one day you’d look at me as more than as a friend. I thought ‘Maybe if I buy her flowers when she’s upset and take her to dinner when her cop boyfriend broke up with her she’d look at me.’ But you never did.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She asks, voice breaking at the sudden admission.

“I guess I was afraid. I’d lost Liam, I lost my right hand. I didn’t want to lose you, Emma. After everything I’d lost, I still had my best friend and I think I’d break if I didn’t have you.”

“Killian. I’m sorry for asking you to be my fake boyfriend. It was stupid and if I knew how you felt- you must think I’m a horrible person.” She cringes, putting her face into her hands. She was a horrible person, she’d unknowingly taken advantage of a guy who's been in love with her for 15 years.

Killian takes her hands away from her face, forcing her to look at him. “Emma. I said yes because I wanted to help you, and you were right. It has stopped the pitying looks I would get. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable with the mistletoe stuff and earlier, I didn’t think-“

Emma interrupts before he can continue “No, no you don’t have to apologise. I’m the one who made things worse by blurring the lines. I kissed you and then I felt confused because it felt so right but so wrong at the same time.”

“Swan, you don’t have to explain. We both got carried away, but I shouldn’t have put you in that position in the first place.”

“Killian. The past couple days have been so confusing, you’ve always been my best friend but you’ve never just been that, it’s always been more. And I think after a conversation with Ruby I realised maybe I’d been missing out by not dating you for real. I’m sorry for missing the signs all these years, but I never looked at you with pity. I’m a former foster kid who was attracted to danger and I made mistakes, and you lost your brother and protector way too young. Both of us are broken, but I feel like with you everything just makes sense.” She doesn’t know why she didn’t realise it sooner.

“Can I kiss you again, Emma?” He asks and she smiles at him, a true smile she reserves for only the special people in her life.

“Please do.” And he captures her lips, softly this time. It wasn’t quick and hard like the past couple of times, it was gently asking for permission to go further rather than demand it. It’s the way their first kiss should have gone.

_________

They were back at the house within minutes, trying not to make it too obvious what they were rushing back for, but for once Emma didn’t care what other people thought.

“Too many clothes.” She comments, hands palming the buttons of his shirt, he’d pulled his jacket off and thrown it on the floor as soon as they entered before diving right into her lips.

Killian makes quick work of the zip on her dress and it quickly falls to the floor as his kisses continue, from the corner of her lips to her ear and then down her neck as she unclasps her bra, tossing it across the room.

“Killian” she can’t help but moan as the pressure in her core intensifies, she feels herself getting wetter and wetter at every kiss. She needed more. His hand cups her left breast, and his cool touch is enough to harden her nipple alone but then his fingers rub and pinch whilst his mouth makes moves on her right.

“Please Killian. Please,” she never begged when she was with a guy, they didn’t usually spend as much time with foreplay, they went straight in. Not Killian though, he was special, this was different. He was worshipping her.

“What do you want, love?” He asks and she could come alone from that sultry voice.

“You. Please. Gods, I need you.”

The devilish grin on his face appears and his lips travel south down her naval where he presses another soft kiss above her belly button before moving down to her thighs where she knows her underwear was soaked. “All this for me?”

His hand touches the soaking wet fabric and there was no use lying about how desperate she was for him, not when she was moaning like a porn star. He pulls her panties down and his touch is electricHe teases her folds, gathering her wetness in his fingers and then brings it up to his mouth and licks his fingers, which Emma didn’t realise was a turn on until that moment.

He kisses her so she can taste herself on him and then his mouth is on her core again, his tongue lapping at her increasing wetness. She grabs at his hair, pulling him closer as the pressure intensifies. His tongue licks up and down and then he finds her clit and Emma was in heaven.

He slips a finger inside and she’s on fire, finding the right angle, he pumps his finger in and out until adding a second and she throws her head back, crying begging for more as he finger fucks her.

“Right there! Harder! Please!” She begged.

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” He whispers and Emma knows deep down, maybe she has, too.

“Killian” she moans again, she was missing out all these years if sex with him was this good.

“You’re still wearing too many clothes.” She reaches out to unbutton his pants and she can already see pre cum leaking from his underwear. She knew he was going to be large but when she pulls his boxers down and sees him already hard and ready for her is something she was not prepared for.

Killian groans at the simple touch of her hand on his cock and she smiles knowing it was her turn to make him in pain. Her lips touch the tip, causing him to tense before she takes him in her mouth and bobs her head up and down, her hand taking over where she couldn’t fit anymore of him.

“Tell me what you want, love.” He asks in a breathy moan

“You. Inside me. Now.”

He flashes her a wicked grin and kisses her softly before lining himself up and guiding his cock into her, edging himself in slowly.

Emma feels a wave of euphoria at the feel of his cock in her, rolling her hips against him trying to find the perfect rhythm as he thrusts into her inch by inch.

“Swan, you feel so good.” He mumbles, hand in her hair and she could only groan in agreement, he felt so good.

“I’m so close.” She breathes as Killian thrusts some more and his thumb brushes over her throbbing clit and Emma can’t help but scream his name ‘Killian!’

The sound of Emma screaming his name is what causes Killian to release fully and Emma knows she’s never had an orgasm such as this before.

He kisses her softly and slowly again. A promise that this was not the first or last time they would do this to another’s bodies.

___

Christmas morning Emma wakes once again wrapped up in Killians arms and she lets herself enjoy it without the guilt because there was no going back now. Maybe her brother was right, and it had been Killian all along.