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ms-demeanor · 11 months ago

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Can you offer any advice for avoiding hoarding when part of the problem is that trying to deal with the clutter and garbage and dirt causes paralyzing anxiety? I want my house to be clean and cluttered because it's stuff I like, but instead it's full of trash and stuff that had a place but doesn't seem to fit back in it after being used.

I can absolutely offer advice about that.

Short TL;DR:

Select the room you want to clean and make a map of it.

Divide the room into small segments like "top of desk" or "cabinet under sink" or even "half of junk drawer." SMALL segments.

Designate bags "trash," "donate," and "consider later."

Schedule a time to work on cleaning each segment, don't just assume "i'll do it next week." Write down an assigned day for each area.

Go into your target area and sort things into those bags.

Optionally, create a bag for memento items to put into a specific memento box/book.

Take bags out of the space when they are full to make more room to work and to see progress.

Do the section for the day and stop. Don't get overwhelmed by a ton of stuff, stop when you've done what you planned for the day (unless you've got good momentum built up and continuing will energize you.)

Long TL;DR:

Go someplace where you are not looking at the mess. You want to draw a map of the room, but you do not want to be in the room. Work one room at a time.

Divide the area you want to clean into very small spaces. You aren't cleaning an entire desk, you are cleaning one drawer of a desk.

Take three containers with you for each section: one trash bag, one donation bag, and one bag of stuff to consider later.

Plan out time to work on the space. Don't say "I'll do the whole thing this weekend" or "I'll get to it after the holidays," sit down and write out a schedule. There's a version of this called 40 bags in 40 days that people do for lent (that was the version of this i first found and followed the first time i did it), but you could do it in ten days, or a hundred, just try to stick to working on each segment on the day it's scheduled.

In each space, keep the stuff that's obviously meant to go there in that space, so if you're cleaning a desk drawer and it has a stapler in it, the stapler can stay there but if the staples and paper clips and rubber bands are a mess put that stuff into the "consider later" bin. Same thing with papers; if you've got a bunch of papers and you may need to keep some and may need to trash some, put them in the "consider later"

THERE IS AN OPTIONAL BIN FOR PEOPLE WHO WANT TO HANG ON TO A MILLION MEMENTOS AND CONCERT TICKETS AND SUCH. I make them by getting gallon freezer bags and filling them up with business cards and concert programs and scraps of wrapping paper and birthday cards. This isn't quite "consider later" because it's probably stuff you know you want to keep, this is "I don't have a home for this thing right now but it's not trash" so this is a temporary home for that category.

Remove stuff from the space as you work. As you fill up a bag of trash or consider later or donate, take it out of the space so you aren't looking at it and you can see the progress you're making on the space.

Do each section as you come to it on your schedule and then call it quits. If you cleaned out the counter next to the sink and that was your area for the day, you don't have to worry about the area under the sink unless you have the energy and enthusiasm for it.

Philosophical musing about why this works

The reason this kind of plan works (for me) is by pre-managing several things. You know you're working with a limited area, you know what you're going to do with the stuff you find in that area (put it in one of your bags or leave it where it is if it belongs in that area), you're working on a limited time so this can't stretch out forever it's just a little chunk, you're thinking about the space as you build your plan so you're visualizing the anxiety inducing thing outside of the space that actually gives you the anxiety which hopefully allows you to detach slightly from the anxiety, and you're getting your steps lined up ahead of time so there's no muddle of "what do i do now, how do I get started" - you get started by grabbing your bags and you go to that day's scheduled section.

The whole thing is constructed to prevent you from getting overwhelmed.

I used to try to clean my room as a kid and I would find something that needed to get put away but I didn't know where it went so I'd spend a bunch of time trying to make a space for it and I'd end up getting lost in the weeds of imagining how I'd use the item and if the new place for it was accessible, and oh look at the items that I found in this other place where I was going to put this item and this method cuts off all of that. Where I am putting the item is in the bag, where it is going is the "consider later" pile and when I've cleared out most of the space I can consider where things go when I've gathered all the uncertain things into one place instead of continually unearthing them and disrupting the process of going through stuff.

What it means to Consider Later

The reason you're working room by room is because you should be isolating the consider later pile by room. If you're cleaning out the bedroom you may end up with stuff that belongs in the kitchen or the office, but you'll end up with a lot of stuff that belongs in the bedroom. When you've worked through all your segments, you can sort the consider later pile and now that you have all the objects together, you can consider whether some of them belong together in a space in the room.

For instance, when I first did this there were a lot of books that needed to go on bookshelves, but my bookshelves weren't accessible in the early parts of the process. So books from the floor and the bed and the nightstand went into the consider later pile and after the whole floor was clear and there was no trash on my desk and all the books I was donating had been pulled from my bookshelves, I was able to organize all of my books at once instead of stumbling across a book every four minutes and trying to shelve it.

That's what spawned the memento bags for me; there was a ton of stuff in my consider later bags that didn't precisely have a place but weren't trash and needed a place made for them. If I'd struggled to find where each item went as I cleaned it would have completely stalled me out.

I kept finding yarn as I went but I didn't have a dedicated yarn spot, so I just put yarn in the consider later pile and at the end I found a basket for it and put it on a shelf in the closet that had been cleared out when I'd donated old clothes. If I had tried to find a spot for the yarn before donating the clothes, I would have had to move it once the better spot opened up, so saving all the consider later stuff for later saved me from having to move stuff several times.

If you're in a small space or if you're living with people and you can't make a pile of stuff in another room for two weeks, at the very least remove the trash and donation bags as you go and designate an area for your consider later pile; maybe a laundry basket or something similar so that you can keep it mobile as you clean.

It's kind of like moving in to a new space. When you move in to an empty room, you have all your stuff in boxes and you need to figure out where it goes and that can take a while, but it's sometimes easier to find a place to put things in a new environment than it is to put things back "where they belong" because maybe you've added a dozen skeins to your collection and they don't belong in the little yarn bag anymore.

What to trash, what to donate, and what to consider later

Trash should be immediately obvious as trash. Anything that is trash goes in the trash bag right away.

If you find yourself thinking "but I might use this plastic fork that came with my value meal," or "this receipt may be important," put it in the consider later pile and don't think about it right now.

The donate bag should be for stuff that will still be useful for someone, but won't be useful for you. Clothes that you don't like, books you hated and won't re-read, toys you don't want to keep, all of that goes in the donate pile. If you think you might want to keep a piece of clothing but you want to make sure it doesn't fit, don't stop to try it on now just put it in the consider later pile and you can sort it into the donate bag later.

"Consider later" is for anything that requires more than thirty seconds of thought or effort to handle. If you're looking at your desk and you've got a keyboard for your computer on your desk that keyboard is staying there and doesn't need to be considered. If there's an empty takeout cup on your desk, that cup is going in the trash and doesn't need to be considered. If there's a receipt for your computer sitting on your desk, you may want to save that for record-keeping purposes but may not have a place to put it, so that is what you consider later.

Some guidelines on what is or is not trash

You might look at a sturdy plastic cup from a gas station and say "that isn't trash, I could use that, that's still good" but unless you have a specific purpose in mind for it right now, that is trash. If you wouldn't put it in a donation box to be used for some ambiguous future purpose, you don't need to keep it.

If you have a specific purpose in mind, like using an old milk jug to make a watering pitcher for your plants, it may not be trash. But only ONE is not trash; more than that is trash.

If you wouldn't need to have a hard copy of a paper and you have an electronic copy, it is trash. This means receipts for most everyday purchases like groceries and fast food. Don't keep receipts for items past their return period, don't keep receipts for items that you have a digital copy of unless that item cost over $1000.

Nice cardboard boxes (or good glass jars, or sturdy plastic takeout boxes, or cleaned food containers) that you don't have a use for are trash (or recycling, depending on where you live, but still in the trash category).

If you know someone who is specifically looking for an item (like maybe the neighbor kids are asking for cardboard tubes for a science project, or you work with a meal delivery group that could use extra packets of takeout utensils, or you have a friend who is into canning and has asked for jars, or if you make your own soup stock and need containers to put it in, or if you have a friend who is moving and needs lots of good cardboard boxes) then these items don't *have* to be trash but if you are just keeping them in your space and not giving them to people who want them or putting them to use yourself, they are just trash in your space and you should throw them away.

Memory Books/Memento Bags

I make memory books out of the little items i collect into one gallon storage bags. They allow me to hang onto the stuff that I want to keep because it brings me good memories without having a pile of random junk and sometimes without having to keep the item, or having to keep the whole item.

If the thing I want to keep because it brings me good memories is bulky, perhaps I can take a put a picture of that item to put in the book. If it is a worn out shirt, perhaps I can cut a patch off the shirt to put it in the book. If it is a card, perhaps I can cut out just the front of the card, or I can almost certainly just throw away the envelope and put the card in the book.

If you have things that do *not* fit into the memory book, like costume jewelry or rocks or a weird toy you got out of a coin machine on a really fun family vacation, you can also make a memory box; I have some of these and they've got a bunch of truly random crap in them, but I *like* having the nametag from the four hours that I worked at Denny's, or the keychain from when my mom took me to the morgue training class. It's fine to like these things, and to keep many of them, but you want to keep them someplace that they won't stress you out; that might be a display case for nice things, but it also might be a pretty velvet bag that you periodically pull out of a drawer and sort through like a magpie, or a wooden box that you painted.

You can also be selective about this stuff. You don't need every piece of costume jewelry your grandmother owned; keep the pieces you really like or the ones you have strong memories of or the ones that are very nice or the ones that are in good shape. But look, my mom was a teacher and she had a wide variety of goofy holiday jewelry that she wore in the classroom and I don't need to hang onto that. I don't need the big plastic ghost earrings that won't fit in my plugs, but I'll hang onto the spider brooch. She collected cheap watches - I don't need all of her four dollar watches, I can keep the nice ones, or the one that she got for ten years at her job. Do the same thing with stuffed animals and baby clothes and magazines and children's books. You don't need to keep all of it, and keeping all of it isn't going to help you remember that time more, or remember that person better.

Do you really want to keep it or do you feel obligated?

Youtuber Caroline Winkler (who has some great videos about home organization that I like a lot, in particular "this is why your home is a mess" - with the caveat that she likes closed storage and my ADHD ass loves open storage) has a really great tip on getting rid of stuff that works a LOT better for me than the Marie Kondo "Does this spark joy?" question and it's the Red Wine Test. Instead of asking if an item sparks joy, you ask yourself "If a bottle of red wine spilled on this (or if it was in some other way damaged) how hard would I try to fix it?" If you wouldn't try very hard, or if you would be *relieved* then you can get rid of that item. If one of the Venom mugs I have on the shelf fell down and broke, I wouldn't try hard to fix it. If my cat stuffed animal from when I was a kid tore open, I would immediately be looking for my sewing kit.

.... I should recycle those cheap teal glasses, actually.

Some general tips that may help to get you started that work for me and my ADHD and may work for you and your anxiety:

Start a timer for a short time. You don't have to clean your whole house, you are just going to pick up for five minutes. Then you can stop, and you only have to face a *little* bit of the anxiety.

5-4-3-2-1-go. Don't overthink it, count down quickly and then get up and do something. Keep going in as long a spurt as you can manage without getting too upset, but cutting down on the time for pre-game fretting might help with the anxiety.

Do the smallest amount possible. You don't have to clean this room, you just have to take one dish to the sink. You don't have to do all the dishes, you can just unload part of the top tray of the dishwasher.

Some general tips on trying to keep a space clean:

First, encouragement: It is a lot easier to maintain a clean space than it is to create one.

If you're thinking that something needs to be done and it can take you under five minutes to do it and it's right in front of you, do it. I do this with my dishwasher. It turns out unloading the dishwasher is the main thing that stalls me on dishes and keeps my sink full, so now when I'm waiting for the kettle or letting my tea steep, I unload whatever I can get done in that time. If I have the vacuum out and I did my living room but the hall and the bedroom could use a quick pass too, I vacuum them while I've got the machine in my hand.

Set success traps. Success traps are things that let you fall into succeeding by front-loading the effort (or executive function) of cleaning with planning. Trash collects in your living space? Put a bunch of little trash cans everywhere. Cleaning your bathroom takes extra time because you have to go get glass cleaner and paper towels from another room? Keep a bottle of glass cleaner and a roll of paper towels under the sink. You never sweep because it is a pain in the ass to get the broom out of the broom closet? Hang the broom from a mount in the kitchen. It takes too long to clean the counter because you have to pick up a bunch of makeup brushes and bottles and soap? Put that shit on a tray and now you only have to move one thing to clean the counter.

And for your specific question, with "things never seem to quite fit back where they came from" sounds like you're playing storage tetris, which is when things have a place and it is a *very specific and exact* place that doesn't have a lot of room around it. You may need to think about downsizing for your space, or, more likely, think about more efficient storage. That Caroline Winkler video I linked has some tips on this ("don't store things in a way that will make you angry like putting your common use objects on an out of reach shelf or you'll never put things back because it's hard to put them back" and "maximize your weirdo spaces" speak to your situation, i think) that I've put into use, particularly in my kitchen. It was hard to keep the counter clear because it was hard to put my stand mixer away because the rack for the stand mixer had a wok and a bunch of cast iron pans and a panini press and a chafing dish on it; I put the panini press and the least-used cast iron and the chafing dish and the wok in a more out-of-the way cabinet (because i basically never use them but they're very useful when I need them) and now that shelf has a little grill, my more commonly used cast iron, and my stand mixer so putting away the stand mixer is a lot less effort so my counter stays clear. I wasn't using the top shelf of my dish cabinet for dishes because it's too high up for daily use, but it's perfect for the rice cooker, waffle maker, and food processor that I use less than my dishes but more than my george forman grill.

And anyway, the TL;DR for all of that:

Work a little bit at a time, be nice to yourself, don't keep things that aren't worth keeping, and configure your storage in a way that works for you (by keeping your lifestyle, the way you use things, and how easy it is to put away into account before deciding that's where something lives).

Good luck!

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fallinforgyu · 10 months ago

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pretty bun can u PLEASE talk more about how perverted enha nd txt are !!! I'm pretty sure they would be all such a perverts pls pls pls

u are 100% correct anon bc one thing about enha + txt is that they’re both FULL of pervs. but lemme tell yall who’s been on my mind lately: PERV. SOOBIN.

specifically!!! pervy roommate soobin who always seems a little bit nervous around you. his cheeks always seem a little bit pink and his hands are always a little bit sweaty but he just can’t help it, he likes you so much :(

it gets worse the first time he hears you touching yourself through your shared wall. he hears a faint buzzing, a hum, but he assumes that it’s just you using your electric toothbrush. that’s until he hears a tiny little moan. his eyes widen, he claps a hand over his mouth, and then he slowly presses his ear to the wall. and what else is he supposed to do other than slip his dick out of his pajama pants and hope that you don’t hear him jerking off to your cute noises?

and then you notice is your panties slowly going missing. at first they disappeared somewhere between the washer and the dryer, but as time progressed, they started vanishing from your dirty clothes hamper. soobin keeps them in a drawer at his desk and he only takes them out late at night, pressing them to his nose (and occasionally letting his tongue swipe across the salty fabric) while he fucks a fleshlight.

he’s mortified when you finally confront him about it, of course, but give him even the tiniest hint that you want him and he’ll be begging for you. “y-you don’t even need to touch me, please, just let me touch you,” he’d plead, desperate just to get his hands on you. he almost comes in his pants just from squeezing your boobs, so imagine how insane he’d go when he’s finally kneeling between your legs. finally getting to taste the real thing, not just the essence left behind on your panties. he’d get a little lost in it, i think, his eyes glazed over as he drools all over you, fucking you with his long fingers while he sucks your clit <3

and if you actually let him fuck you??? omfg i think he’d be SO rough. he’d wanna absolutely ruin you. he’d shove his fingers in your mouth, making you gag on them until you’re crying while he fucks you with that huge dick. “been thinking about this for so long, pretty girl,” he’d groan in your ear, “making such a mess on my cock like i knew you would. perfect little pussy taking it so well.”

#that was way too long jesus christ #i love perv soobin #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #soobin smut #bunny's mailbox 📬

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randomshyperson · 2 years ago

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Mess is Mine - Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Being divorced from Wanda Maximoff implies never getting over her.

Warnings: (+18), language, brief smut, divorced ladies who are very still much in love with each other, unspecified age gap, marriage going wrong, hopeful ending, mild angst, fluff.| Words: 3.949k.

A/N-> There's this divorced couple in a Brazilian soap opera with so much chemistry in their scenes together because of the intimacy gained during marriage (even though that didn't work out) and they won't leave my tik tok ; at some point, my brain thought about this fic. I would love to write more of this trope in the future.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

--//--

Wanda had a persistent migraine, and the pile of work in front of her was not helping.

Still, all her stubborn brain could focus on instead of her real job was the stupid headline of the gossip magazine on her desk.

A cheap and badly angled photo of her ex-wife with colorful captions that read 'The newest business killer couple?" and dozens more insinuations about a secret high-society romance made her stomach churn.

Wanda tried not to be affected by the gossip, but you looked so happy in the photo that she couldn't help it.

The sudden opening of her door made Wanda jump in her seat, in one quick pull close the magazine and sigh with relief when she saw it was only Natasha.

"Why are you here?" Her long-time friend and co-worker asked. Wanda frowned in confusion.

"It's still my company..."

Nat rolled her eyes, walking into the office and taking long strides to her desk. "I meant in here, smarty-pants. The event is starting in an hour, the staff wanted some words of encouragement or something."

Wanda sighed wearily, massaging her forehead with one hand. "Can't you do that for me, Nat? I gotta make some calls."

Nat hummed in agreement, but her gaze caught the closed magazine on the table and she raised a brow at her friend. "One of those calls includes your ex-wife, I suppose."

Wanda chuckled dryly, taking the magazine out to one of the drawers and adjusting herself to reach the desk phone. "There's nothing else for me to say to her."

Her friend hid a smile that said that she didn't believe this one bit. "Okay, whatever you say. See you later, boss."

Wanda waved goodbye, with the phone to her ear. Her immediate instinct was to dial known numbers but she shook her head to push that ridiculous idea away and went back to work.

Several hours after the peak of the event when the company was filled with guests, from potential clients to journalists looking for any news like vultures at the carrion, Wanda was at her second glass of champagne, trying to keep the rest of her patience intact after having answered so many questions for gossip magazines regarding the headline from earlier in the day.

She absolutely did not want to discuss a possible romance between her ex-wife and the heiress of Bishop Industries.

Years before, any of them would have been afraid to question her about something so ridiculous, but that was before you came along. And melted your way into the Business Ice Queen, the untouchable Wanda Maximoff, or whatever insensitive nickname they invented about her back then. Before breaking down all of Wanda's walls, making her a better person, and of course, before you left her.

It was definitely the alcohol's fault that she was thinking about this, and with these stupid tears welling up in her eyes. Wanda swallowed all the emotion, burying it deep and making sure that no one had noticed her broken expression. With an excuse to a group of investors who were boring her into a corner, she retreated to an area far away from the company's outdoor gardens, taking a deep breath to calm herself. The beautiful view of the state lake was most welcome.

So of course the reason for her almost minor breakdown had to show up wearing her favorite suit.

"Are you running away from your guests, Maximoff?" Your tone was casual, the smile provocative. She snorted to herself, crossing her arms and keeping her eyes on the lake. You didn't mind, walking over to her at a slow pace until you were beside her on the edge.

"I just needed some air." She merely replies. With one hand in your pockets, you adjust your own hair, and Wanda hates that she can smell the shampoo, her body betraying her and shuddering as if your scent were addictive.

"You're avoiding me today." You comment lightheartedly, studying her face. "I arrived an hour ago and it took me almost all this time to find you."

Wanda forced a smile, finally facing you back, but her angry look made you hesitate. "I thought your chaperone was keeping you busy."

You glanced back at the party, stealing a quick check on Kate at the food stand, chatting with a blonde girl, before turning your attention back to Wanda.

"I forgot how hot you get when you're jealous."

Wanda huffs away, her cheeks burning which she tries to hide by staring at the lake. "Don't even start." She warns between teeth.

You chuckle, rolling your eyes, but don't insist. You turn your attention to the lake as well. "I wanted to let you know that the boys have already arrived in King Cross. I spoke to them and Charles on the phone."

"I know, Pietro texted me." She retorts more harshly than she meant to and bites the inside of her cheek as she sees you lower your head in upset. With a sigh, she mumbles, "I meant, thanks for letting me know."

You smile, nodding before turning your gaze back to the party. "What do you think of Miss Bishop?"

Wanda locks her jaw; How dare you honestly. A list of curses lays ready on the tip of her tongue, but she remembers where you two are, and takes a deep breath. You were clearly trying for some kind of reaction from her, and she's not going to let you have this victory today.

"She's beautiful." Wanda replies. "As young as you were when I met you."

You chuckle shortly, raising an eyebrow at her. "What are you implying, Maximoff?"

Wanda shrugs her shoulders softly, turning to leave. "You're quite clever, Y/N, I'm sure you follow." She hits back, but you step forward into her path. You are suddenly too close, and Wanda finds herself holding her breath. She needs to take a step back to avoid stopping breathing for good.

Your eyes stare into theirs. "Not that this is any of your business, darling, but my relationship with Kate is strictly professional."

You assure her in a low tone, and Wanda swallows hard as your gaze moves down to her lips for a long moment before focusing on her eyes again. A smile forms on your mouth next. "Besides this, I've always had a thing for older women."

Wanda sighs heavily, using all her mental control to pull away at once. "Go pay attention to your chaperone, Y/N. Especially if she's a potential client."

You roll your eyes at the business tip; you already know them by heart, the vast majority learned from Wanda. And your ex-wife makes mention of leaving, so you slide your hand down her forearm gently, taking some amusement in seeing the way she shivers.

"I wanted to talk to you about something, Wanda." You let her know, with a serious tone but a tender look. The redhead swallows dryly at the closeness of your faces now that you're standing side by side, your hands connected. "Later, after the party, okay?"

"I-I..."

"It's important." You assure her, knowing her hesitation is so as not to break your agreement about relapses. With a gentle expression, you insist, "Please, it won't take more than five minutes."

She licks her lips, and you almost kiss her. Lucky for her she agrees and walks away because God knows you would have done it, right there in that garden for all the New York reporters to have a week's news about.

Without Wanda's perfume around you, you take a deep breath and try to clear your mind, having to wait a few more minutes in the garden for your heart to stop beating so fast.

As the event nears its end and Wanda needs to give a closing speech, you say goodbye to Kate before the parking area. You ignore all the journalists who try to insinuate something about you having taken the girl to the car and exchange a glance with Wanda in the small crowd before moving toward the elevator.

Wanda has always known you so well, and with a nod, she knows exactly where she has to go.

Her work floor is completely deserted as she makes her way to her own office. But she still closes the door as she enters, letting out a tired laugh at your figure sitting on her armchair.

Her smile fades when she sees what you are reading.

"Headlines nowadays are getting creative..." You wryly chuckle, laughing at your ex-wife's caught expression. "It says here that I might have an eye to the Bishop's fortune. How silly, you gave me almost half of yours in the divorce, why would I need more money?"

"Very funny." Wanda dryly retorts, reaching up to snatch the magazine from your hands with a tug, and raking the item into the trash afterward. She crosses her arms as she looks at you. "What did you want to tell me?"

You flashed a small, sideways smile. "You used to be more polite when you wanted to sleep with me. At least offer me a drink."

Wanda chuckled dryly, rolling her eyes and begrudgingly moving to the personal bar in the corner of the room. If she leaned over more than necessary to grab one of the whiskey bottles, aware that the position in the chair gave you a full view of her ass, neither of you said anything about it. She hid her satisfied smile as she heard your breath hitch at the image, and you hid your own reaction as you cleared your throat and looked away.

Shortly thereafter, two shots of whiskey were served on the glass table in front of you. But before the toast, you declared:

"I'm leaving."

Wanda frowned, and when you made mention of taking the glass, she placed her hand on your forearm. "Speak."

You chuckled, staring her in the eyes. "I closed a contract with the Ten Rings folks. They want me in Korea for the next four months."

Wanda lets go of your arm as if she had been burned and steps away from the table with an indecipherable, but very disturbed expression.

"B-but the boys.." She tries to formulate, but you rise from the armchair with a sigh.

"They'll be at school." You retort, even though firm, your gaze is almost pleading. For what, Wanda doesn't have the heart to wonder. "It's not as if they stay with us all the time, Wands. The boarding school takes up this time quite well. It will only be four months, and they've already invented the telephone and internet, you know?" You try to joke, but Wanda hugs her own body and faces you.

"Why are you here, then? You've traveled before."

"Not for that long." You say, taking steps toward her, and mentally thanking heavens that she doesn't pull away. "And not... not since we made the divorce official."

"Y/N..."

"I know, I know." You murmur with a sad smile, raising your hands to her arms uncovered by her dress. "Maybe it's stupid, but I wanted to make sure we're okay. That it won't be something...I don't know, that hurts us."

"More than a divorce? I find that difficult." She replies with restrained emotion in her husky voice. You sigh.

"Wanda..."

"No, you're right. It was stupid." She cuts off, pulling away so you don't see the tears welling up in her eyes. "Of course it's okay. But I appreciate that you respect the concept of shared custody. I imagine the kids already know?"

"Yes, I told them before I took them to the airport." You mutter upset, watching Wanda walk away to the window. "But Wands, I wanted to tell you in person..."

"And why is that, huh?" she retorts with an impatience that makes you flinch. And for this, Wanda loses it for good. "You know, I don't understand you! You left me! You filed for divorce, you wanted to break us up. But you keep showing up here, and at home, and everywhere, and now you want to come here and say you care-"

"I care, Wa-"

"Then why did you leave me?" she shouts back, almost regretting it when she sees the tears in your eyes. You laugh tearfully, shaking your head.

"We've had this conversation dozens of times, Wan." You say, much calmer than she is. "But you just can't accept that you're wrong, can you?"

"Right, I forgot that I'm the villain in your story." She sneers, wiping her face with the back of her hand. You give another sad laugh.

"I wish it were that simple, darling." You tell her, taking slow steps toward her. "If you were just the villain, the bad wife, the evil boss, everything would be easier. I could hate you, curse your names to all my friends, and spend all the divorce money on expensive, empty things out there, but it's not like that. You forget the part that I love you and tried to fight for us until the last second."

Wanda sobs quietly, looking down at the floor, "Don't do that, Y/N."

"But it's true, baby, you know. I'm not the one who broke any promises, Wands. I just got tired of begging for crumbs of attention from the person who swore to spend the rest of her days with me."

Wanda lifts her chin, and the determination in her gaze doesn't do justice to the tears. "You knew how much my career meant when you said yes."

You smile sadly, taking one last step to get close enough to hold her face. Wanda shudders as you wipe away her tears, as you have done so many times before, as if no time has passed and everything was fine.

"I am so proud of you, Wands, for all you have accomplished with your work. I only wish I had been as important as this building."

You place a long kiss on her forehead, pulling away afterward. You offer her one last sad smile before closing the door on your way out. Wanda starts to cry as soon as you have done so, even though she tries very hard to keep her tears away.

–//–

You burned a pancake to answer the door, but all the irritation over the ruined dish vanished when you saw Wanda standing in front of you.

It had only been a few days since you had last seen her, and now all the furniture in your apartment was already packed away and covered with rags, prepared for the time you would be away. Wanda's party dress gave way to a casual suit that made you swallow dryly and become self-conscious of the sweatpants and sports top you were wearing. Wanda wouldn't have picked anything better.

"Are you going to let me in, detka?" Wanda asked with some teasing for your moment of shock. You immediately recovered, making room for her to enter and closing the door once she was in the hall. "Sorry for disturbing your breakfast. I wanted to see you before your flight."

"Oh, don't worry about it. And I'm not going until the afternoon." You clarified somewhat clumsily by her presence, one hand still holding a spatula and the other adjusting your hair. "I made pancakes if you'd like..."

"I would love it." Wanda assured with a smile that made your stomach twist. It wasn't fair that your ex-wife got more beautiful every time you looked at her, honestly.

Wanda followed you back into the kitchen, and to both your surprise, you fell into a light conversation about work and the boys while preparing and serving food, completely different from the tone of the conversation the last time you had seen each other.

But it was a time bomb, of course, so you weren't surprised when Wanda suddenly bit her lip, assuming a more tense posture.

Finishing chewing your pancakes, you asked:

"Why are you here, sweetheart?"

Wanda raised her eyes to you, and you stared back at her, patiently for her to clarify.

"I wanted to say goodbye to you properly." She said, spinning her own stool around first before tipping her hands around yours to spin you toward her. You raise a brow in curiosity, but the question of what she was doing dies in your throat as she leans in and brings your lips together.

It has been exactly three months, eighteen days, and sixteen hours since you last kissed Wanda, and you only realize how much you missed the feeling when she does it again. It's as intoxicating as it is overwhelming, and you gasp into her lips, breaking the kiss at once as you stand up, taking good steps away from the countertop.

"Wanda, we talked about this." You remind her in a husky voice, pressing a hand over your face. It's ridiculous how much your skin is burning and your heart is racing for something that lasted less than three seconds. "No relapses. You promised-"

"It's not a relapse." She assured, reaching up and grabbing your hands to place them around her waist. You grunted at the sensation, closing your eyes as Wanda slipped hers over your shoulders, too close for you to think about anything other than her. "It's a parting gift. So you'll have a reason to come back."

"W-what...?"

Wanda presses closer and brings her mouth to your ear. "Just stop overthinking it and accept the gift, detka."

With encouragement, she bites the lobe of your ear, and you give up resisting.

With a tug on her waist, you bring your mouths together in a kiss much hungrier and more passionate than the first, which elicits loud, almost primal moans of need from both of you. Wanda pushes and pulls, and by the time you stumble to the back of the living room couch, your pants are already open and there's nothing covering your torso; much like the woman in front of you, who as soon as she throws you sitting up against the cushions, your breathing out of rhythm and your lips swollen from kissing hard, makes a show of removing the rest of her clothes.

She has time to smile mischievously at your look of pure adoration at her completely naked body in front of you before you pull her onto your lap by her thighs. Wanda climbs on you with a needy grunt, burning from the inside out in anticipation for you to touch her again.

Your touches are almost desperate, your kisses mark her skin. It is your gift, but you also seem determined to make sure that Wanda has the memory of this morning for quite some time.

When your mouth closes around her nipples, she whimpers to the ceiling, arching her back and steadying her hands in your hair, a soft plea that you not stop.

"Yes, baby, just like that." She encourages over the stimulation on her nipples, breaking into an excited whimper when you simply use your free hand to masturbate her. At any other time, you would have taken your time to work her up until she was begging for your touch, but now, in the urgency you two were sharing, it wasn't necessary. She was ready for you.

Your fingers penetrate her without delay, and Wanda digs her nails into your shoulder, breaking into a breathless moan. You give one last hickey on her hardened nipple before you move your face back up to hers, kissing her with intensity as your fingers dance inside her walls with the mastery of one who has done this a dozen times, one who knows her like the palm of the hand she so deliberately grinds against in the intention of relieving herself.

"G-god, detka! Right here!" She breaks the kiss into an affected moan, practically meowing as you repeatedly hit that sensitive spot inside her. The wetness grows in your palm, Wanda oozes into you, and to help her, you bring your free hand to her hip, coordinating her movements as she begins to fail. "I-I'm going to..."

"Don't talk, show." You interrupt her with a proud little smile, moving your mouth down to bite the sensitive spots on her neck. "Come to me, baby, I've got you."

That's all she needs to reach the first climax of the morning, and she is not surprised that you don't stop at the first. Or the second, or the third.

You are on your knees on the living room floor when your first alarm goes off. Breathing as out of breath as Wanda, on the couch with her torso exposed and her legs spread from which you against your will need to remove your face to turn off the alarm when you pull away.

She covers herself when you disappear to the kitchen because she knows it's because of the flight, and when you return, the cell phone goes on the coffee table and you sit on the floor next to her on the couch.

There is a long silent pause, where only your breaths can be heard. Wanda skirts a hickey on her own thigh and you sigh.

"We shouldn't have..." But you can't complete, it because your voice fails you as if you are going to start crying. You look away, and Wanda lets herself fall to your side on the floor, where she reaches for your hand.

"Detka, look at me." She asks, and you have to wait a moment until you sniffle and do so with difficulty.

"I told you it hurts me, Wands. I can't-" You take a deep breath. "I can't heal if this keeps happening. There’s no getting over you if we keep doing this”

She shakes her head. "I don't want you to get over me." She says and you huff, trying to pull her hand away, but Wanda squeezes. "I love you, you know I do."

"Love is not enough." You retort bitterly, your eyes filled with tears. "Loving me doesn't mean you won't hurt me. Nor that you won't ignore me. Those are just words, Wanda. I haven't felt loved by you in a long time."

She releases your hand from the shock of your words, and watches you create a physical distance between you as you walk away. You slip away to the bedroom, muttering that you need to get ready for the flight, and she tries to make a decision the whole time you are in the shower.

When you return to the room, wearing a set of travel clothes, Wanda is wearing your sweatpants and her own dress shirt. Your chest aches to see her wearing your clothes again.

"Wanda, you'd better go, my flight-"

"I love you, detka." She cuts you off with eyes bright with determination as she stares at you. You swallow dry, but can't resist when Wanda reaches up to touch your face. "I will make sure you know it. You'll know it so deeply that you'll be able to feel it in your bones. And you'll never doubt it again."

You sniffle lightly. "Wanda..."

"Don't worry about it now, detka." She interrupts you more gently, caressing your face. "Have a great trip. I'll be here when you come back home."

You sigh, and Wanda doesn't let you say anything more, kissing you in a calmer, but somehow much more intense way than before.

She leaves the apartment before you, with a wink and a request that you call the boys before and after the flight.

And even before she gets to the first floor, Wanda has already texted Natasha about her early retirement procedure after her well-deserved family vacation.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff oneshots #marvel imagines

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catapparently · 9 months ago

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Kaz Brekker Headcanons

Cat entering her hc era thanks to my maid of honor @x-liv25 . Please go read her TIG headcanons!

MASTERLIST

Kaz once said "you shouldn't make friends with crows," "why not?" "they don't have any manners." I headcanon that he tried to feed a crow and actually be nice to it but it bit him so now he forever holds the grudge

He has a stack of makeup in his desk drawer in case he needs to change his face up a bit for a job and he's excellent at it

At some point, when he was still struggling with finding a job after Jordie's death, he stole someone's purse and found bronzer/contour that he used to draw himself abs to look strong and "hirable".

He doesn't mind touching animals without his gloves

He realized that when he tried to save an abandoned kitten in the rain when he was younger

He felt bad for it because it reminded him of him and Jordie

He saw it as a debt-ish to Jordie to save the kitten

It once brought Kaz a mouse as a gift and Kaz genuinely appreciated the gesture

Kaz POV: "What a distinguished gentleman who knows I'm worthy of great gifts and appreciation"

Kaz knew he couldn't really keep a cat in his line of work, it'd be a weakness, so when it was old enough, he snuck it into Pekka's office and watched the vicious little feline tear Pekka's stuff to shreds

"A cat after my own heart"

When Kaz got the Dregs tattoo, he didn't want the artist to touch him, so he tattooed the logo himself. It was a bit shaky but then he hired a Tailor to fix the edges without touching him

Alternative solution to the bad edges: He fixes them up with stolen foundation whenever he isn't wearing long sleeves or something that would cover it up.

They day he first saw Inej and she snuck up on him, he had a panic attack but hid it well

At this point in his life, he was used to being in control, to knowing everything. Having Inej sneak up on him (and knowing that she could have potentially killed him without him having time to retaliate had she been trained) freaked him out. He felt weak, Kaz Rietveld again.

Kaz spends half an hour every other day locked in his office without his gloves, lathering his hands in hand cream.

Whenever he'd grab someone by the collar or any form of violence with contact, the last thing the victim could think about is why his hands smell nice. Nobody ever lived to tell the tale.

He's a sucker for a good chocolate cake.

He absolutely HATES ice cream. It makes too much of a sticky gooey mess for him.

He also probably has a sensitive throat so he doesn't really eat cold/frozen stuff or drinks

Once he made a deal with Nina which resulted in him going to a café to buy her a pumpkin spice latte. Once he sniffed Nina's, he quickly bought another one for himself and chugged it before he could get back. Obviously he did that in a dark alleyway so that nobody could see him and use it as blackmail.

Once he used (obviously stolen) paint to decorate his very own set of cards.

He then made another elaborate plan of his and managed to auction them off for a grotesque amount of kruge.

Probably forged DeKappel's signature on the back of each with perfect precision

For those that forgot, DeKappel is some famous painter in the series. Kaz stole a DeKappel oil painting from Van Eck.

Help I didn't realize how fun HCs were, I could make a thousand of these

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jessi4fanfics · 5 months ago

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Beautiful

|Poppy fails to realize her beauty- which is why God created Branch 😌✨|

Branch knocked on the door of Poppy's pod, waiting expectantly for her usual cheery answer. She knew his usual curt knock and always answered with an excited squeal and "Come Innnnnn," in a sing-song voice.

But today that call didn't come.I

Just a-- groan? Did she just groan about his arrival?!

"Uhm, Poppy?" Branch said through the door. "It's me. I just came to pick you up for our date."

Silence.

"If you need me to come back later, I will," he offered. What was he saying? It was like nine at night, all he wanted to do was go to bed, despite how much he loves his dates with his girlfriend. He wasn't about to leave the date at the appointed time, stay awake, then come back. That was silly, and honestly, exhausting.

"Branch..." The groan from that loved voice that he knew so well drifted from the inside. "Can we just-- do this another day?!"

Branch frowned. "What? Re-schedule? You have never done that ever." His eyebrows furrowed. His ear pressed against the door. "Honey, are you okay?!!"

"Yeah, I...no?" Another groan of disgust, then a bang! as something inside fell to the floor.

Branch flinched.

"Poppy?"

More silence.

"Poppy, can I come in?"

A shriek of annoyance. "Fine!! Whatever, it's too late anyway! I don't care, I don't, I--"

Branch opened the door and entered right away. His eyes widened at the mess everywhere. Clothes were thrown in the floor, along with purses, combs and brushes.

Chairs and a table, plus a few chairs had been knocked over into the floor. They all lay there looking sad.

Then her mirror stand, right beside her bed, with small light bulbs surrounding the actual mirror, was a mess, the one drawer hanging out, her makeup bag spilling out it's contents into the desk, but the biggest shock was Poppy herself.

She was sitting in front of her mirror on a small cushion seat, her hair sticking up everywhere, her mascara dripping from her lashes, her green strapped dress that she was currently wearing all wrinkled and put on backwards.

As soon as he entered, she shrieked and covered her face. "Don't look at me!!"

Branch covered his eyes with his hand. "Why not?"

"I look terrible, that's why!" Her voice shook with embarrassment and dread.

Branch lowered his hand as he neared her. "Don't be ridiculous, Poppy."

Poppy sobbed into her hands. "I'm not. I look terrible!!"

Branch reached out and caressed her shoulder. "What's wrong? I've never seen you like this."

Poppy swiped at her eyes. "I always behave like this before dates. I just usually have more time to freak out and worry about...well, everything. I finished work late, so I'm super overwhelmed-"

"Whoa. Hold up." He sat on the bed next to her and looked into her mascara dripping eyes. "Did you say...always before dates?"

Poppy sniffed and didn't answer.

"Poppy, don't tell me you worry about your looks before dates."

She never seemed like that type of girl.

"I always worry about my looks around you." Poppy sighed shakily. "I know that doesn't matter much to you, but when you comment on how pretty I look or so on, I always feel obligated to keep those standards, if it pleases you that much, you know, and I worry that it doesn't and so I need more time to-" she stopped to swipe again at the tears rolling down her cheeks. "If you give me another thirty minutes, I will have my makeup perfect and hair and dress ready too, I promise, I just-"

"Poppy, please!!" Branch scratched the side of his head. "I didn't - oh gosh... I didn't mean to make you so stressed when I complimented you."

"I'm not stressed," Poppy argued.

Branch eyed her up and down, then raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Poppy shrugged slightly.

Branch opened his mouth, closed it again, still in shock while looking at the crazy mess she was in. Her hair was literally yanked absolutely everywhere. Her eyes were red, and the strap to the dress was hanging down on her arm instead of shoulder.

He began to chuckle.

The laugh startled Poppy and she just sat there, staring at him. Was he laughing at her?! Did she really look that bad?!!

Her eyes began to tear up. "I'm sorry, Branch," she whispered, ashamed.

"No, it's not that," Branch continued to chuckle as he stood up and fixed her dress strap, setting it firmly on her shoulder. He smiled at the Poppy watching him, confused, through the mirror.

"Then what is it?" she asked.

Branch stood behind her, reached around and lifted her chin up high, to look herself straight in the mirror with both of his hands.

She quivered.

"You're just- so beautiful. That's all."

Beautiful? But...

"How? I look dreadful!" Poppy looked back up at him, arguing. "I haven't even fixed my dress yet."

"You don't need to be fixed up to be beautiful, Poppy," Branch smirked at her. "And you don't need makeup, fixed hair, a wonderful dress or any of that either."

Poppy now looked down. "You do if you don't have natural beauty."

Branch looked at her, surprised by her response. "Natural beauty? Of course you have natural beauty, Poppy."

Poppy glanced at her face again, then shook her head. "Heck, no. It's just a face. And a plain old body structure. Nothing special. Nothing beautiful or pretty."

Branch frowned. He got on his knees, and set his arms in hers so she had to look him in the eyes.

"Poppy... I don't think you realize just what a wonder you are. I'll show you." He reached up and took her chin in her hands.

Her eyes searched him and he smiled. "Your eyes... Do you know what color they are?"

She shrugged. "Magenta."

"Right." Branch chuckled again. "Do you realize how much love and joy shines in those eyes, Poppy? How much my legs just want to buckle up and give way when you turn to me and look at me with them? How pure and amazing they are? Their color and the light they shine with?"

He leaned up to kiss her eyelids and she smiled as she closed her eyes.

"And don't even get me started on that smile of yours!" Branch smirked again, caressing her cheek. "If I thought your eyes shine a lot, then it's nothing compared to your smile."

Poppy only smiled bigger and have a short giggle.

"And your laugh. Oh." Branch gave a scoff. "It's only the most melodious sound my ears have ever heard. I shiver when I hear that sound, Poppyseed."

He kissed her quickly, then reached for her hair. "Your hair is perfectly coily, perfectly straight when it needs to be. I love the way it could around my finger so easily-" he twisted his finger, encircling it with her pink hair. "And how I can give it a light teasing tug without hurting you." A tug on her hair, and another giggle escaped her.

Branch stood up and kissed the top of her head, but kept his face buried in it. "I could say so much about the rest of you but I think it's time for our date."

Poppy jolted up again, alarmed. "Branch! I can't go out like this!"

"You can and will." Branch grabbed her hand, intertwined his fingers with hers, kissed her hand (he loved her hands as well), and dragged her out of her pod.

"Branch! Wait! Can I at least put my hair up?!" Poppy begged.

"Nope!" Branch laughed. "I like it all ruffled." He ran a hand through it, ruffling it up more.

"Branch, please don't, it looks so ba-" She was surprised when Branch used his hand exploring her hair to yank her closer to him and kissed her.

Her arms immediately wrapped around his neck, pressing him closer, as his other hand reached around her hips, gently caressing her back.

When he pulled apart, Poppy whispered, "I do look messed up, Branch."

"You do," he whispered back. "But you also look perfect."and

Poppy thought for a moment. "Do I really have natural beauty, Branch? Without the add-ons?"

Branch smiled. "Everyone has natural beauty. The thing is whether people choose to recognize it or not." He pressed his forehead against hers. "But you have the most beautiful natural beauty I've seen in a woman," he joked.

Poppy giggled. "Thanks," she whispered in return as they shared one last kiss before continuing their date.

Idek. Idekkkk, I don't, I don't. Thx for reading, you are literally the best for reading past the chapter explanation. Hahahahaha, HEARTSSS ❤❤❤

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fancyfeathers · 1 year ago

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Hi:) can I please get yandere Poe headcanos?

I absolutely love your writing<3

I can’t count how many times in a day my girlfriend and I say that one dub line from when Ranpo meets Poe, “I AM POE.”

it’s just so fun to say 🤭

Alright say it with me, obsessive Poe. It would already would be hard to catch his attention due to how much of a recluse he is, but the moment you do this man is absolutely head over heels.

Would he every outwardly express his feelings that may help to lead to a healthy relationship? Ha don’t be silly, he’ll watch you from the shadows, stalking you, taking notes both mentally and physically on your likes and dislikes, your friends and family althoughs a bit begrudgingly, your pets, work, hobbies, and so on.

Hell you probably won’t meet him until months after he started stalking you and he finally gained the courage to talk to you face to face. I could see him bringing Ranpo along to help guide the conversation because it wouldn’t take long for Ranpo to find out about Poe’s little crush on you. I could also see this leading into Ranpo being yandere along with Poe, but we’ll save that for another time

So perhaps after that the two of you become friends, you completely oblivious to Poe’s unusual habits. You two will be perhaps about to go somewhere and Poe asks you to grab his bag for him while he goes to put his coat on or something, You grab the bag but grip on the way and the bag drops, everything slipping out and what you see is horrifying.

Photos of you, notes about you, notes about your loved ones, small items of yours. You just sit there is pure and utter shock that you don’t hear the footsteps of the equally horrified an behind you, albeit horrified for a much different reason. Poe didn’t want it to come to this, but now that you know you’ll leave him forever and he’ll never see you again. He’s a fumbling and nearly crying mess as he takes a book he writes from his desk and opens it, and with a golden light enveloping the room, the book falls to the ground and the only person left in the room is Poe.

He picks up the book with the most delicate touch, as if the book is you and he puts it in his desk drawer, locking it up tight. Perhaps one day you’ll escape, but that day is not today.

#yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bsd #yandere poe #yandere edgar allan poe #yandere poe x reader #yandere edgar allan poe x reader #poe x reader #edgar allan poe x reader

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lysenfeu · 3 months ago

Text

Devil in the Details •Part 3•

Captain John Price negotiates the terms of his unusual deal.

Rating: Mature

Eventual John Price x F!Reader

1.3k words, Slow Burn, Drabble/Short Form Writing

CW: Dark themes, Mentions of death, Grief, Supernatural events, Occultism, Demons, Corruption

(Part 1) (Part 2)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The man takes a deep breath before squaring his shoulders and meeting your eyes with a steady, even gaze.

“I need to make a deal.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Of course, he does. Why else would you be here?

“And what do you want, human?”

He walks over to the desk and you trail after him, as far as the circle allows you to move. He opens then shuts a drawer and comes to stand in front of you. You're much closer now, only a foot away as he holds up a photograph.

“Them. I want them.”

You peer curiously at the photo, reaching out to pluck it from his fingers. Four faces peer back at you, all men, wearing green army fatigues and matching smiles. One figure is immediately recognizable as the man before you, just more put together. You readily admit the man in the picture was rather handsome, in a rough, rugged way. You flick your eyes quickly between the photo and your summoner. Hm. You also have to admit, he still is. Glancing back at the photo, you look over the other three men standing next to him.

A broad-shouldered man with a shaggy cropped Mohawk and tanned skin, beaming at the camera. A blue baseball cap sticks out against the desert scenery and faded army green clothing, perched on top of a gorgeous man with an equally dazzling smile standing between the other two. The last figure has his face obscured, a black and white skull mask covering his features from view as he loomed behind the other men with his arm crossed against his chest.

You hand the photo back and shrug your shoulders.

“A lovely bunch, I'm sure. But what do you want with them, hm?”

The man tenses, his hand not clutching the photograph clenching into a fist by his side. “I want them back.”

Ah.

Understanding finally reaches you. Of course, this is about a loss. Three losses rather. You let your gaze rake over the man once more, taking in all the little details more closely. He’s desperate, that's clear enough. A far cry from the man in the picture, with once proud, tall shoulders now hunched in shame, as if his large frame was attempting to force him physically away from the pain of failure and guilt. Sunken, hollow eyes, bleary from too many whiskeys and late sleepless nights filled with nightmares. He's an absolute mess.

“Who are they?”

He blinks at you. “Is that important?”

You click your tongue in annoyance.

“Of course it is. You want me to ferry souls back from the dead, you could at least tell me what's so special about them, hm?”

You may have just been trying to stall, but you were also starting to become interested in this whole affair.

He takes a deep breath. “They’re my team. Those men are the best of the best. Not just to their country, to the world, but to me. I brought them up, I put them in the line of fire and I let them down. They shouldn't have to pay for my mistakes. They deserved more. They deserve more. This is my only chance to make it right.”

It's a truly impassioned plea, even managing to tug on your blackened heartstrings. A desperate man going to the ultimate lengths to fix his mistakes. You have no idea how he ended up calling you and you are definitely not the right demon for this job but it's certainly a compelling story.

“It's a rather significant request. What do you have to offer in exchange?”

The man doesn't hesitate. “What do you want?”

You manage to hide your amusement. Oh, he's that desperate is he? Of course, he is. But this was your perfect out. Even humans have their limits, the selfish creatures that they are. You could negotiate your way out of this quickly and not suffer any embarrassment.

“I know what I want, human.”

He patiently waits for you to continue.

“I want you. All of you. Your mind, body and soul, submitted to me and me alone, for the entirety of your existence.”

It was an enormous ask, an eternal debt of servitude is the highest possible price a demon can set. Even a desperate fool wouldn't so readily accept that kind of dema-

“Fine.”

You blink in mild surprise. He didn't even hesitate.

“Just like that? You'll give yourself away entirely?”

He sighs, voice thick with defeat. “If you bring them back, I'll give you anything you want.”

You can't believe it. “You'll be under my complete control, my little human puppet.”

Not a moment's hesitation before he responds. “Call me Pinocchio.”

“One tug of the strings and you'll dance any way I can make you.”

He tilts his head to the side, almost in challenge. “Waltz or foxtrot?”

Fuck.

You’re really hoping he would just give up, that would make this a lot easier.

He clears his throat.

“Can…I see them first?”

Double fuck.

Clever man. Annoyingly clever. You’re outright frowning now. Your tail flicked back and forth behind you, a nasty little anxious habit you'd never gotten rid of.

“You doubt my abilities, human?”

He purses his lips “Just looking for a little show of faith within our negotiation.” He bites out the word faith, well aware of its ironic use within the current demonic context. The longer he talks, the more confident he's becoming and that's a problem for you.

He has every right to question you, unfortunately.

Not only had you not done this before, you weren't even sure you were allowed to. Death magic wasn't in your traditional bag of tricks, regardless of how many tomes you'd read on the subject. You knew how it was supposed to work in theory but a demon of your status shouldn't be attempting it. You were built for entertainment, not resurrection or serious magic. But part of you was still intrigued. The promise of a human thrall was enticing, the freedom and power that would give you would be incredible. And trying forbidden rites was just icing on the cake…

Here goes nothing.

You take a deep breath and focus, channeling the corrupted form of magic flowing in your long-dead veins and extending it out. Soul-shaping was a matter of intent and determination, sifting through the realm of the Dead to find the correct tether to tug on.

Your sigh of relief as you successfully pull at three threads is thankfully swallowed by the low howl of the wind outside and pitch-black smoke billowing into the room, casting a thick curtain of inky blackness along the wall.

Dark shapes swirl and dance in the shadows, outlining three bulky human forms built of nothing but smoke and memories. Three pairs of eyes blink back at you from the darkness. Bright blue, sharp and eager. Light brown, harsh and stoic. Dark brown, curious and calculating. His breath catches in his throat as he meets the gaze of each pair of floating eyes, emotion clouding in his chest and gripping at his lungs. He reaches out a hand but before he can make contact the smoke dissipates and the forms blow away into nothingness.

He whirls around in a flurry of motion, eyes wild with sorrow.

“Bring them back! Now!”

You sigh as your tail flicks more furiously from side to side.

“We need to make the deal first.”

A puff of smoke and a scroll of yellowed parchment appears not a second later, hanging in the air right in front of his fallen face.

“You sign this and I own you. Where you go, I go. Where you sleep, where you eat, there I am. Haunting every minute of your waking moments and every second of your dreams. You'll never be free of me as long as you live. Do you understand?”

He ignores your serious tone, easily batting away the desperate warning you're giving him, all for the flicker of hope dancing in his heart, cutting through the pain etched in his very being. “But they'll be here?”

You try not to let your voice waver as you answer.

“Yes.”

What you really mean to say is:

Probably.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

He reaches for a pen across his desk.

“We have a deal.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

#captain john price #cod john price #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #john price x reader #john price x you #cod fanfic #lysenfeu fics #slow burn #eventual smut #demon au

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no-phrogs-in-hats · 2 years ago

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Take a Look in the Mirror (!!!)

Pairing: Larissa Weems x Fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT, desk sex, mirror sex, office sex, oral (r receiving), mommy kink

A/N: Short little drabble, loosely based off of this post

Opening the door to Larissa’s office, you get the final bit of a phone call she was having.

“Alright, I’ll see you then.”

Grinning, you shut the door and lean against it. An ache had settled between your legs as soon as you woke up that morning. The sight of Larissa in her matching undergarments had sent your mind spiraling to every filthy thought imaginable.

Larissa glanced up at you from her computer, “What are you grinning about?”

“Nothing,” you respond, and walk over to her desk. You lean over, kissing her sweetly on the lips and shutting her laptop. “You know…I was thinking…”

“Oh?” Larissa raised an eyebrow before chuckling and opening her laptop. “That’s a first.”

Your mouth fell open in mock offense and you laughed, closing the computer again. “I was thinking about this morning…and how you left me hanging. Maybe you could make it up to me right now.”

“I would love to, darling,” she said, pecking you on the lips. “However, I have a meeting in thirty minutes.”

You scoffed and rounded her desk. Turning her chair toward you, you lean into her ear, “Oh, please. As if I could last that long.”

You could hear her breath catch in her throat and you grinned as you relished in your victory, pushing Larissa’s work aside and hopping onto her desk.

She looked at you with hunger in her eyes, pushing the skirt of your dress up to your hips and spreading your legs. As Larissa placed soft kisses up your thighs, she nipped at the skin, leaving behind faint marks on the skin.

While she continued her teasing, your head fell back. Your eyes made immediate contact with the mirror above you. On the ceiling, you could see everything: Larissa’s head between your legs, your trembling form–it was almost too much to bear and you felt the knot in your gut already forming.

Larissa looked up at you before shifting her gaze to the ceiling where she met your eyes in the mirror. “Oh, you naughty girl…” She pulled aside your underwear and groaned. “Look how wet you are. Is this all for mummy?”

“God, yes,” you breathed, gasping after she pulled your underwear down and licked a stripe up your slit.

“And as always,” she mumbled, “you taste absolutely delicious.”

You let out a moan as Larissa’s lips wrapped around your clit and sucked hard, her tongue following with languid circles. Your hands gripped the edge of the desk before moving to her hair. She took it immediately and interlaced your fingers together.

“Ah, ah, ah,” she said. “Can’t go to that meeting looking like a mess, can I?”

You shook your head and gulped, “No…” Your breath sped up, chest heaving and pleasure clouding your thoughts as you gripped her hand. “Oh my god, Larissa, please don’t stop.”

With your legs shaking, Larissa let go of your hand and held them in place. Her tongue sped up and your hand slapped over your mouth as your entire body shook. Whimpers fell from your mouth as Larissa kept going. When she pulled away, her lipstick was smudged and you let out a breathless chuckle.

Larissa pulled a compact mirror, a makeup wipe, and a tube of lipstick from her desk drawer. As you caught your breath, she reapplied the lipstick, and once done, she stood from the chair and placed a kiss on your cheek.

She chuckled before licking her thumb and wiping the fresh lipstick mark off your cheek. Looking down at her watch and back up to you. “Not even fifteen minutes, darling.”

You pull up your underwear and huff, “Well, how can I last that long when you’re so good at this?”

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #wednesday #gwendoline christie x reader #drabble #my own smut turns me on #smut #larissa weems smut

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timeslugarts · 11 months ago

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Hello! I love your writing!! Can I request Lucifer X Reader where the reader is a sinner that was originally from the Arctic (say, Alaska)? And the reader is lowkey suffering from the heat of hell? Sorry it’s so specific but this has been on my mind since I watched Hazbin hotel xd-

(Can I be ❤️‍🔥 anon? Is that taken?)

Hi anon!! I'm sorry this took so long, but like work and regular adult life and blah blah blah. I really hope you enjoy it!!

❤️‍🔥 READER X LUCIFER

When the two of you had arrived home from a late night gala, Lucifer immediately knew what was coming.

He chuckled

Without hesitation, as soon as the front door closed behind you, you had begun stripping down to the bare essentials. In nothing but your underwear to relieve yourself of this blasted heat.

Ever since "moving" to Hell life has been somewhat miserable, if only because you weren't used to this temperature! Any chance you got, you would immediately shimmy out of all your clothes and lay starfished out on the floor.

Lucifer thought it was adorable. He felt bad of course, but there was only so much he could do considering you guys were in Hell.

If guests ever decided to come over he had to make sure you knew, if not it could lead to come fairly embarrassing situations. Charlie was a blushing mess when she accidentally walked in on you sprawled on the couch.

"Luciiiii." You leaned on him, bare chest pressing into his back. "It's soooo hot today."

You were making it very hard to focus on his work. "My dear, if you keep this up it's only going to get hotter." He spoke softly, eyes lidded, but the grin on his face was unmistakable.

"It's too hot for that." You rolled your eyes and stretched across the guest chair on the opposite side of his desk. Making very sure none of your limbs were touching each other.

Lucifer pouted. "I can't believe you'd deny the King of Hell his desires?"

"Maybe when the King of Hell learns to turn the AC down, then he can get his desires." Sarcasm dripping from your voice. If you could roll your eyes any harder you would.

"Well if that's the case-" Lucifer said leaning down to one side of his desk.

You heard him rifling through his bottom drawer for something, which peaked your curiosity. You leaned forward a little to get a better look.

"I WAS gonna wait for your birthday, but it seems someone's a little impatient… ah there it is." Lucifer pulled out a small light blue rubber duck, it almost made you laugh if you didn't know the man handing you the seemingly innocuous duck.

You gently took from his hands and gasped immediately as your fingers brushed against it.

Lucifer was grinning like mad. He so liked to give presents, especially when he knew you were going to love it.

The duck was cool, almost icy to the touch. It felt great against your burning skin, you smiled up at Lucifer, eyes soft as you looked at the thoughtful man.

"But wait, there's more!" He leaned forward and pressed a small button on the duck's head. Its mouth opened up and a small fan started blowing air from its beak. You giggled.

"Luci this is incredible!" You were mesmerized by this little duck, who would've thought that Lucifer Morningstar, damner of humanity, was the most thoughtful person you've ever met?

"Hold on." He laughed, taking your hand holding the duck into his own. He shook it gently. The duck started to snow, it was like a snow globe, but on the outside. You were enraptured. The soft snowflakes drifted from the small toy, vanishing into the space around it.

"Lucifer, this is absolutely beautiful." You beamed and he returned your smile, pleased that you liked his little gift.

You swiftly removed yourself from your chair and crashed your body into his. He chuckled heartily as your arm encircled his neck. His own hands coming up to rest gently on your hips.

"Maybe a little heat isn't such a bad thing." You said with a sly smile.

"Oh?" A devilish smirk soon took over his own face as he pulled you into a passionate kiss.

#hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x oc #requests

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year ago

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Hello!! I love your Carmy fics and (if you are still taking requests) I would love to see anything fluffy with him! Maybe like a late night up with him or literally anything!

This is completely different. It's giving more like first time meeting slash cute cuteness but I hope it's still something...

Chicago rain

Carmen wasn't a lady man. The anxiety that crippled him made any interaction awkward and robot-like at times. Hence why he practically always avoided any outing. Too many stimulations. Too little capacity in his brain to deal with it all.

But then you had walked into the Bear one day. The weather in Chicago was brutal. The wet spell was without doubt trying to drown the city at this point. Carmy was busy in the kitchen. It was past the breakfast rush but still a good chunk of time till the madness of lunchtime hit. So everything seemed slow. The pre-prep that was done last night allowed everyone to take a needed breather. Carmen heard voices from the front. Surprisingly Richie's voice didn't sound bitchy. A laughter echoed and the door to the kitchen quickly opened.

"I need one of our best sellers and someone to start a big cup of tea", Carmy frowned slightly, no one ordered tea here. "Cousin, do we have towels without holes in them?", Richie raked through the drawers, making a mess of a somewhat organized place. "Man put that back as it was, I'll grab one for the back", Carmen huffed as he walked towards his office. "Bring it out front", Richie called from behind him.

If only he had known. If only he had known that his heart was going to leap out of his chest the moment he brought that stupid tower out, he would have done a double take. Here you were, drenched to the last fiber of your skin. Shivering so hard Carmen could practically feel his own teeth aching from the friction. "Shit", he muttered under his breath, your big eyes darted up to meet him. You two stilled a bit yet your composure came back way quicker. "Sorry, I'll clean the floor, I know I left quite a...", but your rant was cut with Carmen stepping forward as he wrapped the towel around your shoulders. "Forget about it", he said, "It's nothing, Richie will take care of it".

Your cold fingers brushed over Carmen's warm hands and he practically let out a hiss at how cold you felt. His brain was working so fast that he didn't even realize it as he said, "Come over to the back. I have spare clothes you can change into". You looked back at him, shaking your head, "It's all okay, I'll grab a cup and will head out", you pointed to the absolute miserable weather outside. You both looked at it for a while before you huffed, "Yeah, I probably won't go out...", your voice died down. "Then, after you", Carmen gestured towards the kitchen and this time you didn't fight it.

You were pretty much drowning in Carmen's hoodie but the warmth of it was much appreciated. Carmen as you had learned along the way had prepared a full three-course meal. Pouring second of the soup. "My brother used to say that it warmed both the body and the soul", you smiled at that, especially when Carmen had sat to eat beside you. You watched him work after that. The rush of the kitchen. The shouting. The clacking of the pans. The smells. It all felt like a dance of some sort. A rhythm that was so easy to get lost in. You watched it till your eyes grew heavy and sleep pulled you in.

Carmen had felt your eyes on him all night. But oddly enough they didn't make him feel uneasy. Quite the opposite. He wanted to carry himself higher. Show off the place. The things he did best. By the time he pulled enough courage to look back at you, he had found you sleeping with your head resting on his office desk. Even in the midst of the chaos he had stepped out. Quickly whipping his damp hands before he took a proper look at you.

Never had Carmen seen a girl so pretty in his life. Rarely did any girl awaken any reaction in him. But there was something about you. Something that called out to him. Carmen gently ran his hand up and down your arm, making you flinch as you quickly sat up. Nearly falling over with the chair.

"God, sorry, fuck", you steadied yourself, Carmen's hand falling over your shoulders. He met your tired eyes, smiling softly, "Why don't you lay down", he nodded towards the little couch. It wasn't anything fancy, but it did the job. "No, I've caused too much trouble already", you muttered but Carmen shook his head. "Nap for a bit, we should close in a couple of hours. I'll drive you home then", he offered, getting drawn in by your eyes once more. You quickly tucked your hair behind your ear, "I will never repay you for all of this", you mumbled. Carmen shrugged his shoulders, suddenly feeling bold, "Have dinner with me sometime. If you want, of course... you can say no. I would understand and it's...", he ranted on. You reached to touch his hand and his movements stalled, "I'd like that", you muttered, feeling your cheeks growing crimson. Carmy only nodded before once again motioning you towards the sofa.

You followed his lead, tucking your legs towards your chest for more warmth. Carmen quickly looked around, reaching for his big blazer as he carefully draped it over your frame. You smiled up at him and he was quick to follow your lead especially when a yawn slipped past your lips. He watched you for a moment. Tucking the image of you deep into his brain before he slowly turned around, carefully closing the door behind him as the chaos of the kitchen sucked him right back into action. Yet the feeling of something good looming right behind these closed doors didn't leave him all evening long.

#carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto imagine #the bear imagine #the bear x reader

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auspicioustidings · 1 year ago

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We talk a lot about Ghost teaching Soap. But Soap makes Captain right? So Price teaching Soap? Price teaching Soap how to take care of his ‘belongings’. Price showing Soap how to treat you right? 👀🤷🏻‍♀️ maybe? Maybe not? I dunno 🤷🏻‍♀️

First off read this immediately because it serves these vibes way better than I ever could like truly Bunny is God's gift to thirsty PriceSoap girlies.

I cannot prepare a dish quite as satisfying but here is a short little tease anyway! Sorry I cannot actually write smut rn, I'm ill and pathetic about it.

Affirm

Words: 700

CWs: light bdsm

“Right, the two of you in my office now.”

You bristled. How was it that you were getting into trouble here? This was all stupid Soap's fault. It was him that started it.

The two of you were constantly at each other's throats these days. Wasn't really professional but then you hated that he kept talking down to you. The way the word corporal came out of his damn mouth was always with a smug arrogance that made you want to go for blood.

It wasn't like you bit back during an actual op, you both knew better than that. But he pushed and pushed and pushed whenever you had down time at base and you weren't about to let it go unanswered. Fucking asshole. And now he was getting you into trouble with the Captain? God he was the worst.

“Captain he-”

“Don't want to hear it Corporal.”

“Aye too fucking right, dinnae want te-”

“You can shut the fuck up as well. Pair of absolute muppets.”

Price ripped open one of his desk drawers and produced a bottle of Scotch, pouring himself a glass and sitting in his chair regarding the two of you across the table. Both of you knew you were in for it, standing at attention and keeping your mouths shut while he took a languid sip.

“Cannot believe I've been put in this situation again. Did you know I had Ghost and Gaz standing right where you are now? Before either of you joined. They just couldn't get along.”

That was a surprise. Ghost and Gaz got along just fine now. You couldn't really imagine a world in which they fought the way you and Johnny did. Sure they might have some little arguments, but whenever it happened they would go off and have a chat and come back settled. There was no way you and Johnny being alone would settle anything.

“You know why they get along Sergeant?”

“Gaz kens who's in charge.”

Johnny sounded almost resigned? Something was happening, he knew something you didn't. You hated that, you hated how Price spoke to him as if you weren't even in the room.

“Hm. And who's in charge between the two of you then?”

You felt a shiver run up your spine at how Price said it, his voice in a low purr that spoke to some primal part of your brain. What the fuck? Why did you feel suddenly like this was a dangerous situation? You considered speaking up but could only yelp in surprise when Johnny kicked one of your legs to put you off balance and bent you over the desk.

Your heart was liable to beat itself into an early grave. You looked at your Captain and found he only watched, sipping his drink. You twisted to look at Johnny who was holding both of your wrists in one of his hands.

“I'm in charge. Affirm corporal.”

Oh God, you didn't think you had ever heard Soap with that level of authority in his voice. Only all it made you want was to get him to do it again. You needed him to do it again, to put you in your place.

“Fuck you."

The first smack to your ass was hard enough that you jolted forward and your hip bone smashed into the desk.

“Affirm corporal. Ye ken who's In charge, now say it.”

Oh this was several shades of fucked up but my God if you didn't crave more. You needed it, you needed him to break you into pieces so he could put them back together. You needed the freedom that came with being shattered.

You fought against him until Price finally guided him to be harder with you, to really let you have it. And he had. He had destroyed you fully, left you a boneless raw mess. Then Price had guided him to bring you back.

It settled you. For weeks you and Johnny existed in peace with one another, calm. And when you started to butt heads again? Well, Johnny had learned exactly how to handle that.

#mhairiwrites #cod #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #Price being in charge of teaching someone to dom is something that can actually be something so personal

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theburnoutgiftedkid · 2 years ago

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Hello hello! I’m on my obey me shit again thanks to Nightbringer so please enjoy this self indulgent fic. If I was in MC’s place I def would have a breakdown so you will too <3 also I may have sprinkled some itsy bits Solomon x reader

Word count: 800+

Warnings: nightbringer spoilers (just like the main idea, nothing too bad), mental break, hurt/comfort ish, breaking shit, crying, Solomon being soft for reader, gn!reader

- Outlet -

You sat on your new bed in an unfamiliar house in a place that should feel like home. After Solomon dropped the bomb that without reforging the pacts you would essentially be stuck in the past forever, you excused yourself to take a shower to clear your head.

The shower, unfortunately, was counterproductive and actually just made your thoughts more jumbled. You didn’t know if you wanted to scream or cry or both or neither. Everything looked the same but nothing was the same. Except for Solomon, but that wasn’t really helping you right now. He couldn’t help you, not really.

You were in the past. You hadn’t even been born yet. Hell, your great grandparents hadn’t even been born yet. You couldn’t go to anyone for comfort. Solomon, bless his heart, doesn’t know how to comfort someone to save his life. Or theirs, considering he always offers to make them food. You didn’t have any family or friends here. Your best friends had no clue who you were, didn’t trust you enough to stay close. You were completely alone.

You had tried to scroll through the old messages between you and your boys, but it’s as if they had been deleted, or never happened. Technically they hadn’t yet. Everything was adding up and you weren’t sure how to let it out. You didn’t like to yell, you weren’t the type, but that’s all you wanted to do. Just scream and curse at whoever or whatever had done this to you. Had taken away everything and everyone you had ever loved and then dangled it in front of you, close enough to see, not to touch.

You stood up and walked over to a desk that sat in your room. On it was an antique lamp, some ceramic statue, and other stuff that really just looked breakable.

So that’s what you did.

You shoved everything off of the desk. The lamp clattering and the statue shattering. With a racing heart, you walked over to the bookshelf just a few paces away and starting demolishing it. Books, heavy and light, were thrown every which way. You went around the room, ripping open drawers and cupboards and just absolutely tearing everything up. Papers, clothes, pens, curtains. Anything and everything that wasn’t bolted down was a victim of your vengeful hands. You threw the covers off of the bed, the pillows following not long after.

Finally, there was nothing left to destroy. But your anger had subsided and this the waterworks began. Tears, hot and fat and unrelenting rolled down your cheeks as you sobbed. Curled up on the bed, hands covering your ears and pulling at your hair as your legs were splayed limp in front of you.

You were unsure how long you grieved for the life taken from you, but sobs had turned into soft sniffles and whimpers. A gentle knock on the door and a soft call of your name brought you back to yourself. You quickly wiped away the tears and snot that dribbled down your chin, carefully stepping over your mess to open the door for Solomon.

His eyes glanced at the room for just a moment before meeting your tired and puffy eyes. With a gentle touch, he guided you out and pulled you to another room, presumable another guest bedroom. You were numb, could barely process the soft words he was whispering as he helped you under the covers. When he turned to leave, you panicked, grabbing his wrist tightly to stop him.

“Please,” you whimpered, eyes welling up again. His gaze softened, “Don’t leave me alone.”

He hesitated, but when you uttered his name so softly, voice wavering with fear and grief, he couldn’t find it in himself to deny you. Then again, he never really could to begin with. Solomon gently lifted the covers, sliding in next to you as you made room for him.

He didn’t protest as you laid your head on his chest, hand tightly gripping his shirt as if he would disappear at any second. His arm draped around your shoulders, holding you against him while his other hand rested on top of your fist that gripped his shirt. The exhaustion caught up to you pretty quickly and he decided to quietly utter a spell that would ensure you a dreamless sleep.

Solomon didn’t fall asleep right away. He stayed up, thinking about you. How could he help you? If you thought it was hard to forge pacts with the brothers in the future, the past will be damn near impossible. They didn’t trust anyone except each other. But Solomon had faith, you had a history of doing the impossible.

He looked down at your resting figure, still holding tightly to him even in your sleep. You huffed, nuzzling your face into his shirt . He smiled, color rushing to his cheeks and he placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. You settled and he finally allowed his eyes to close, vowing with the last bit of consciousness he had that he would help you get back, no matter the cost.

- Fin-

#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me asmodeus #om! mammon #lucifer #obey me solomon #solomon x reader #solomon x you #mammon x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #angst #hurt/comfort

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mastermindmiko · 1 year ago

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Potions Partner (Part Ten)

Pairing: Draco Malfoy + fem!reader

Word count: 3378

Warnings: smut, shouting, fighting, kissing, like very cute 'I'll miss you more' fluff

Requests are open

an: We're officially half way through this series! Kinda

Part 11

Hey! if you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist

She wakes with his arms around her. He has his face buried in her chest and his arms around her waist. She notices that she has a shirt on, but she doesn’t remember when she put a shirt on. She looks at the clock hung over his desk and realises that breakfast has already started.

She starts to gently massage his head to wake him up. He shifts over her, and buries his face even deeper into her chest. “Draco,”She whispers and he doesn’t move. She calls his name again, and he groans loudly.

“We need to go to breakfast.” She whispers and he nods his head, but he makes no other moves. A few seconds later, he blinks his eyes open begrudgingly, and smiles, “Good morning, my love.”

He tilts his head up to kiss her, but she looks away, making his lips land on her cheek. “Not yet, I haven’t brushed my teeth.” She explains and he groans in frustration. He tolls off of her and lands on his back in a starfish position. She gets up and she feels an ache between her legs that makes her lean on the nightstand.

She hears a snicker and turns around to find Draco with a proud expression on his face. She glares at him and limps to the bathroom. She decides to take a shower which will hopefully soothe her aching muscles. “I could get used to this.” He smirks, letting his eyes trail down her body while she’s wearing his shirt. His grin widens when he notices the purple bruises on her neck. “I’m going to shower.” She says, ignoring his comment.

“Can I join?” He asks, eagerly, already standing up. “Absolutely not! We’re late enough as it is.” She says, and he pouts.

“Can I at least get ready inside with you?” He asks and she nods her head. She heads inside the bathroom and brushes her teeth and washes her face. She ties her hair up, not in the mood to wash it and takes off her underwear and Draco’s shirt. She turns on the shower head and closes the curtain.

Draco enters the bathroom and does his own routine. He brushes his teeth and washes his face. He grabs the gel bottle and opens it. The sound of the bottle opening makes her scream, “No gel!” He listens to her and closes the bottle, settling it back on the counter. He brushes his hair, but keeping it messy enough so hopefully she’ll like it.

The water stops running and she asks, “Draco? Can you get my towel?” He reaches for the red towel next to his green one from beside the door. He opens the shower curtain a bit and grabs it from him. She pulls it around her body and steps out giving him a kiss as a thank you.

“You better get to breakfast, I’ll take a shower and meet you at potions class.” He says, smiling. He steals another kiss then she nods her head. She goes to the closet outside the bathroom and opens her drawer, thankful that a few days ago, she had filled his room with some of her things. She wears her uniform and grabs the redstone.

She gets transported out of the Slytherin common room, and she heads to the Great Hall. She’s about halfway there when she hears Harry shout, “Where the hell were you?”

She turns around and he’s got dark circles under his eyes and his hair’s a mess. “I woke up at three and Hermione told me that you didn’t come back. No one saw you, not even Filch. I’ve been looking for you for seven fucking hours. Where the hell were you?”

“I- I was…” she stutters, trying to think of an excuse. Harry folds his arms over his chest, and glares, “Well?”

“Where the fuck were you?” Harry shouts after she doesn’t answer. She frowns and says, “I think you should go to sleep, I need to go to breakfast and we’ll talk about this after classes.”

She turns around to go inside the Great Hall, and Harry grabs her wrist to stop her. She shoves her arms away from his grasp, and he says, “At least give me the map, so I can make sure that you don’t disappear again.”

She rolls her eyes and gets the paper from the bag. She slams it into his palm, and he semi-scrunches it up in his hand. Before she could tell him he was being ridiculous, he seethes, “Tell professor Slughorn that I’m sick, that's why I’m not going to class.”

He turns around and walks to the Gryffindor common room. She rolls her eyes and how dramatic he was. She starts to think of an excuse as she goes to sit next to Ron and Hermione. She sits next to Hermione, and Ron asks her with a mouth full of chicken, “Where were you?”

“I fell asleep in the library after studying for too long, and didn't notice how late it was.” She says, quickly and starts to fill her plate with food. Ron frowns and sticks another piece of food in his mouth, “I went there with Harry this morning and you weren’t there.”

“You probably didn’t see me from the sleep deprivation.” She says, and she hears Hermione sigh, understanding where she was. Y/N bites her lip, hoping Ron would drop it and she starts eating. She was nearly done with her meal when she saw Draco walk in the Great Hall.

She can’t help the smile that appears on her face. She watches as he sits down, and he grabs a single apple. He only eats half of it, and doesn’t pay attention to his friends. She frowns at his actions, and she wonders why he acts so differently with them.

His owl then flies into the Great Hall, and he reads the letter with urgency and a larger frown settles on his face. She watches curiously as he sets the letter on fire, then walks out of the Great Hall without so much as a goodbye to his friends. Weird.

Hermione and Ron stand up to head to potions class and she follows them. She sits at the back like they do every lesson and she waits for Draco to enter the class. She tells Professor Slughorn that Harry won’t be able to attend because he’s sick, and of course Professor Slughorn asks her several questions, fussing over his favourite student.

When she was done, she took notice that Draco still hadn’t arrived. Draco was often late, but when fifteen minutes had passed and he still didn’t enter, she started to grow worried. Why wasn’t he here yet?

She stays unfocused all of class and she keeps on thinking of where he could possibly be. She realises that Harry was right to worry, especially considering the circumstances with Voldemort back, and the death eater attacks becoming more frequent. She does her best to take notes and annotate her text book.

When the break arrives, Hermione turns to talk to Ron and Harry when she sees Draco’s empty spot. Hermione raises an eyebrow, questioningly, and she replies by shrugging her shoulders, sadly. When class ended, she would’ve gone to look for him, but she had Arithmancy, and she couldn’t be late. She went up the stairs with Hermione and Hermione asked her, “Where was he?”

“I don’t know.” She replied, she didn’t need Hermione to give her more information about who she was talking about. From the corner of her eye, she could see her friend bite her lip and fiddle with the edges of her notebook. “Do you know anything?”

“I-No…” Hermione replies and keeps going when she receives a glare, “I- well, Harry’s been saying that Draco disappears a lot. Like off the map completely. You don’t see his name anymore or anything. He finds it suspicious, and I think it is too…”

“Leave it to Harry to be nosy, but he probably just goes to his room. It’s a new addition to the Slytherin common room, so it probably doesn’t exist on the map.” She explains, hoping that Hermione wouldn’t ask her any questions like how does she know so much about his room. Hermione murmurs, “He was really worried about you, you know?”

She bites her lip, Harry always cared, which was a good thing, but sometimes (most of the time) he cared too much. It was endearing and she appreciated him with every fibre of her being, it’s just when caring turns into protective and angry, that’s when she doesn’t appreciate it.

“I think you should tell him… about you and Draco, that is.” Hermione stops her train of thought, and she couldn’t help but let out a few laughs at the thought. She giggles, “Hermione, you’re smart, be a bit more logical. Harry’s already very very close to killing Draco, if I tell him, he’ll actually kill him.”

“I’m just saying it would be a lot easier for you, not having to come up with so many excuses, and besides he’s going to find out anyway, wouldn’t you rather have it come from you? Imagine if he just finds out by seeing you both kissing…or doing more, like I know you are.” Hermione says, wiggling her eyebrows at the end of her statement. Y/N’s eyes widen and her cheeks turn red. She stutters, “How did you know?”

“I’ve known you forever. Since first year, I know everything about you…” Hermione says, in a know-it-all voice. Y/N bites her lip, amazed by her friend's deductive skills. After a few seconds Hermione adds, “Also, you walked into the Great Hall limping a bit, and you’ve got this-”

Hermione points to the purple bruise on her neck that she forgot to cover up. She gasps and places a hand on her neck to cover it. Hermione giggles, “Here let me help-” She casts the disillusionment charm, then says, “It disappears when you wake up after you fall asleep, so be sure to do it again tomorrow.”

She nods her head, and they reach the Arithmancy class. She thanks god that neither Harry nor Ron have noticed the bruises on her neck, that would’ve certainly caused a lot more ruckus. She sits down at her usual table with Hermione next to her. She realises that Draco still wasn’t there, and instead of him sitting in his usual place next to Nott, the place is occupied by Zabini.

She ignores the weird feeling in her chest, and decides to take notes as Professor Septima Vector drones on about whatever she’s talking about this time. By the time her classes ended, she noticed that Draco wasn’t in any of them, he wasn’t at lunch either.

She decided that she’ll be a bit late to dinner to see where Draco was. She makes her way to a secluded hallway where she can use the stone to teleport her to Draco’s room. She’s inside the room, and the lights are off, which means that Draco wasn’t in his room either. She sighed and flopped down on the bed.

Where could he be? He wasn’t with his friends, since they actually decided to go to their classes. He’s been missing a lot of his classes lately. He’s been getting detention quite frequently too. She also remembers the way Professor McGonagall scolded him for not having his homework, the third time in a row.

Her thoughts get interrupted by the light switching on and the sound of Draco’s scream. She sits up and looks at him. He looks very tired and his hair is messier than usual. He looks at her with wide eyes and a hand over his chest. He gasps, “Are you trying to kill me?!”

She doesn’t bother replying as she stands up and walks to him. She places both hands on his shoulders, and gives him a long slow kiss. She could feel the tension melt away from his shoulders. She breaks the kiss far too early for his liking, and rests her forehead on his own. She sighs, “Where were you today? I’ve been so worried.”

“I’m sorry, I got caught up with Zabini.” Draco whispers as he wraps his hands around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. She bites the inside of her cheek, and she whispers, “Zabini was with Nott, the entire day, and you weren’t with them.”

She feels him tense again, and she moves away from his grasp. She folds her arms in front of her chest, and waits for him to say something while she keeps looking at the floor. He grabs her cheek and tilts her head towards him, “I’m sorry, I just got caught up-”

“With what?” she says, and he says nothing. He gulps, and she sighs. “You can’t tell me, right?” she says in a disappointed tone, and he just nods his head. She raises a hand to cup his cheek, and she whispers, “You don’t have to tell me everything, but I- this thing, whatever it is- it’s been making you feel…worse, and I want to know what it is, so I can help you feel better because I l- care about you.”

Her breath hitches as she hopes that he doesn’t catch her near mistake. She tries to assess his emotions by looking at him, but her heart’s got different plans while it beats out of her chest, the only thing it’s assessing is that she almost told Draco that she loved him.

“I’ll tell you when I can, I promise.” He says, and she sighs, but smiles anyway. She trusts him enough to know that he will tell her when the time is right. She pecks his lips, and asks, “Will I see you in class tomorrow?”

“Yes, you will.” Draco replies with a smile, and she can’t help but feel like it’s the best thing in the world. Her fingers (that have a mind of their own) trail to his lips to touch them, and when she sees his surprised expression, she takes them back quickly, embarrassed. “I just- I love your smile.”

His smile widens as he blushes, and the butterflies bounce off the walls of her stomach. He leans down to kiss her and she wraps her hands around his neck to bring him closer to her. She reaches to play with his hair, and she loves the feeling of the soft strands underneath her touch. He breaks the kiss, and whispers, “I’ll miss you.”

“What’s the occasion?” she asks, confused by his sudden confession. He taps her right thigh and she takes the hint by lifting her legs, wrapping them around his hips. He leads them to the bed, and he sits on the mattress. She’s still straddling his hips as he says, “Christmas break is coming soon, I won’t be able to see you for two weeks.”

“Yeah…I didn’t notice how close it was.” She says, as she remembers the Christmas break is only a week and a half away. Her heart aches at not being able to see him for that long. She leans to kiss him, “I’ll miss you too.”

“I won’t be able to write to you.” he says, remorsefully. He plays with the ends of her hair as a way to say sorry. She replies, “I don’t think I would’ve been able to write to you anyway. Harry always wants to know who I’m writing to.”

“Where will you be staying?” He asks, and she leans down to place her head on his shoulder, she wraps her arms around his torso. He places his arms around her waist. She wasn’t able to not touch him for a few seconds, how will she survive not seeing him for two weeks. “At the burrow with the Weasleys.”

She waits for him to comment something negative, but he stays silent. She’s grateful for that, and she shows that by pressing a small kiss to his neck. However, she notices the roughness in his grasp, she doesn’t know why until he asks, “Will the Weasley be there?”

“Are you talking about George?” She says smirking, and he can feel it against his skin. He purses his lips, “If that’s the one that you went to the Yule Ball with then yes.” She giggles against him, and she lifts her head off his shoulder to look him in the eyes and say, “He is a Weasley, so I’m assuming that he will be there.”

He grumbles something under his breath as he looks away from her. She sees the way the veins on his neck strain, and she can’t help the wetness that starts to pool between her legs. A bright, wicked idea enters her head, and she grins. She leans in, right next to his ear to whisper, “I stay in Ginny’s room when I go there, and her room is right next to his, you know.”

His grip on her hips tightened, and she decided to go on. “Ginny told me that he’s cut his hair, I’ve always liked his hair shorter. It reminds me of your hair, you know how I love your hair. It makes you look so attractive, maybe he’ll look more attractive too…” she sees his jaw clench and his gaze harden as he continues to avoid her gaze. “Who knows, maybe he’ll even turn me on? Maybe I’ll even think about him while I do this…”

His head snaps to her as he feels her hands slide off his shoulder, and trail down to his crotch. She slides her hand underneath her skirt and presses feather-light touches on her cunt. “I’ll even start screaming his name, and he’ll hear it. He’ll come and fuck me so hard.” She whimpers as her pace begins to quicken and she feels Draco’s hard-on press against her thigh.

“I’ll probably even forget your name-” she eggs him on and that snaps him out of it. He grabs her wrist and stops her from touching herself. He grabs her hips and throws her onto the mattress. The sudden movement surprises her and makes her even more wet. He hovers over her and seals their lips into a heated kiss. All passion and teeth.

He takes all her clothes off, roughly and in a flash. His eyes turn darker and his gaze hardens. She looks at her body to remember that she’s wearing all crimson red lingerie today. She giggles, as she toys with the hem on her panties, “I think he’ll like this set, no?”

He grabs it and tears it off of her body. It makes a delicious sting against her lips. She looks at the torn up garment that’s in pieces on the side of the bed. She shouts, “Hey! that was expensive.”

“Please, I'll buy you twelve more” he scoffs, and he rips off her bra too. He grabs ahold of her thighs, and in one quick motion pulls her down. She gasps at the action. He’s now the same level as her breasts. He presses harsh kisses all over her chest, biting and sucking. The hickeys all over her chest, make her more needy for him, and she whimpers, “Draco, please. Touch me.”

“I will touch you. I’ll fuck you so hard that you won’t remember anything but my name. I’ll ruin you for everyone else.” He growls, and he takes off his jeans. He cups her heat, and she moans at the feeling. He slides his fingers over her and he brings up his wet fingers to his lips, “Is this all for me, or is it for him?”

She whimpers, and the sight of him licking up her juices. He roughly grabs her jaw and he says, “Answer me.” He brings his hand away from her jaw to give his cock a few pumps. She cries, “For you, Draco. You’re the only one I want.”

“Hmm…” he hums, satisfied with her answer. He aligns his tip with her entrance but not before sliding it over her entrance a few more times, causing her to whine. He slides only his tip in and that’s enough to make her moan loudly. “Ready for me to fuck you dumb, you little slut?”

Taglist:

@urbansaint @angelofasgard16 @offlines-idfk @love-me-satoru

92 notes · View notes

silentglassbreak · 11 months ago

Text

Anonymous

Noah Sebastian x OFC

Alright folks, I think I’m on the other side of this cold. Which unfortunately means I am back at work. Things are going to start getting more serious here, so bear with me.

Moving forward, each chapter will have its own warnings above the normal, so just keep an eye out. As always, thank you for reading. ☺️

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, overall abuse, mild violence (ie. bar fights), smut, swearing, and altogether just a lot of fuckery. **STRONG TRIGGER WARNING FOR SA** Please proceed w/ caution.

+It goes without saying. This is a work of fiction. My words are mine. Plagiarism is a crime.

Taglist: @flowery-mess

Part 8 - Limits

Three months is not a long time. Not long enough for me to drink in the relationship that now was encompassing the vast majority of my life. I still had my job, my meetings, my daily walks with Angel…but everything else was Noah.

Nights watching movies with him. Days going to his house and just existing while he sat in his studio making music. Standing backstage at random pop up shows they did. Morning showers. Evening cuddles. Very late night sex. Sex all the time? Noah had an incredible sex drive and I was along for the ride.

But today, this truly horrific day, was his last day before he left again on tour. It was panic day. And I couldn’t get out of work. He leaves in the morning for Houston, and is absolutely losing his mind with anxiety.

My phone was going to vibrate off of my desk, so I slipped it into the top drawer and turned my attention back to the clients in front of me.

“I’m so sorry about that, where were we?”

The young couple sat in the chairs in front of my desk, their expression cool and positive. They radiated happiness, love. Jared and Sarah Miller, newlyweds, and visibly elated to be buying their first home. Sarah’s belly sat heavy in her lap, thirty-six weeks into her pregnancy with their first baby.

Their house was closing next week, so we needed to discuss what all needed to be done prior and run their one last statement check.

“You can take that, if you need Mileena. We don’t mind waiting.” Sarah smiled at me warmly, and I felt a tug in my chest when I heard my phone vibrate again.

“Oh, it’s fi-“ Before I could finish, it stopped vibrating, only to begin again half a second later. “Uhm…”

I opened my drawer, looking down to see Noah’s face flashing once again.

“I’m so sorry, it’s my boyfriend. It may be an emergency if he’s calling this much.”

Jared stood up. “No worries! We can run to the car and get Sarah’s snacks, if you don’t mind we eat in here?”

I shook my head. “Not at all! I’ll only be a second.”

“Take your time.” Sarah chirped before they walked out of the office, the door latching behind them.

I slid the newest call open. “Why aren’t you answering?! Are you dying?!”

I had to pull the phone from my ear due to the sheer volume of his voice. “Noah, I’m at work. Not dying.”

“Oh.” His voice calmed down instantly. “Good, because I almost got worried.”

I snorted. “Almost? You’ve called me like, a hundred times!”

He chuckled. “It’s panic day?” He said defensively.

“Panic day or not, babe. I’m with clients.”

“Fuck! I’m sorry. I should’ve known.”

I glanced at my computer screen to a new Teams message.

Sam: Saw your clients left. Wanna get lunch?

I cringed.

Me: They’re coming back. And no, eating in.

I saw the indication he was typing pop up, but disappear a moment later with no new message.

“Listen, babe,” I brought my attention back to Noah. “How about I go to your place after work? I can grab food on the way?”

“I really should focus.”

I laughed. “Cause you’re doing such a great job.”

“You’re right.”

“I’ll see you about six. Love you.”

“Love you too, babe.”

And we ended the call right as Jared and Sarah walked back in.

I smiled widely and took a breath. “Crisis averted. Now, let’s get you guys this house.”

I sat cross-legged on Noah’s bed, pulling potstickers from the paper box in my hand. Noah was chewing on his food while his fingers clacked at his keyboard, sending last minute emails to his tour manager.

Rick and Morty played on the television, and I idly watched it while letting him have his space. ‘Just having you here makes me feel more calm’ is what he told me, so I’m just existing, letting him have his panic in peace.

Noah had gone to my house this afternoon and picked up Angel after we talked, bringing him back to his place so I didn’t have to stop home after work. I was almost convinced he loved that dog more than me. I’m okay with that.

Noah turned, chow mein noodle hanging out of his lips. I chuckled at the sight, and he turned his lips up in a goofy smile. He slurped the noodle in his mouth and licked his lips. As silly as he is, he’s still absolutely breathtaking.

His muscle shirt showed his arms that were slowly becoming more defined every time I really looked at them. Noah had been filling free time he had going to Muay Thai and Boxing classes, trying to keep off any unnecessary pounds he may put on from his sugar intake. The results were becoming…difficult to not appreciate.

“You done?”

He nodded, leaning back in his chair. “I think so. Nothing left to do but sleep.”

I nodded, satisfied. “Good.” I glanced at my watch, noticing it was already seven-thirty. The first forty-five minutes of me being here was spent trying to calm the anxiety and help him find his favorite jacket that somehow ended up in Jolly’s laundry hamper.

“We’ve got to head out in about an hour.”

His lips turned down in a frown. “Why?”

“I’ve got work in the morning, and you’re leaving at 4 in the morning. You need sleep.”

“Nuh-uh.”

I raised my eyebrow at him. “Noah, unless you have a show, you can barely stay conscious past 10PM. You still have to shower.”

He shrugged. “Don’t care.”

“Mkay, well I care. Because I also have to shower and decompress before bed.” I stood off the bed and piled the empty food containers into the bag they came in, walking it over to the garbage can.

“Take this out tonight, or it’ll be awful when you get back.”

He just stared at me, a look I couldn’t quite place on his face. It made me shift my weight under me, unsure of how to react.

“What? Do I have soy sauce on me?” I wiped at my face, but he just shook his head.

“No.” He then sighed heavily. “We’re going to be gone longer this time.”

My heart pulled. He was right. He’d be gone two and a half months this time, which shouldn’t be long, right? Three months went by so fast…

“I know. But, I’ll be at the show here in October. And you’ll be home a week after that, just in time for your birthday.”

He chewed his bottom lip. I walked over to him, stopping directly in front of his chair.

“Then we’ll spend the holidays together.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, his head leaning into my chest, his arms swallowing my waist. “Christmas, New Year, Thanksgiving.”

He would be going back on tour at the end of January, so we had to take what we could get.

“Can’t you just come with me?”

I chuckled. “I wish, baby.”

I pulled my arms back, gripping either side of his neck to bring his face up to mine, placing a soft kiss on his lips. His arms tightened around me and a soft moan hummed out of him.

“Now,” I pulled my face back and pushed him back into his chair. “sit there quietly, and let me give you your parting gift.”

I sunk down to my knees and watched while he lifted his brows at me, narrowing his eyes.

“Since when do I do what you tell me?” His tone was apprehensive.

I gazed up at him through my lashes, doing my best to look innocent while my hands unzipped his jeans.

“Since I have something you want.” I very dramatically licked my lips, leaving excess saliva on my bottom lip for effect.

He pursed his lips, and gave a curt nod of his head.

“Fair enough.”

I was wrong. I was so wrong. Two-and a half months was crawling. I would assume it felt that way since it had only been two weeks, but it felt like a year.

I had just hung up the phone, Noah having to head into sound check. My lunch break was close to over, so I was already sitting behind my desk, scrolling through emails while I waited for my next client to make their appointment.

My desk phone chimed, and I grabbed the receiver.

“Kline Home Lending, this is Mileena?”

“Are you not logged in to Teams?” Sam’s voice was sharp on the other end.

“I’m on lunch. I haven’t taken Do Not Disturb off yet.”

“Lex wants to see us. Didn’t say why. We need to go now.”

I straightened my back and checked the time. I only had twenty minutes until my next appointment. That didn’t matter, though. When Lex called, you went. He was the President of Kline, and he didn’t make appearances often.

I shot my client a quick text to wait for me in the lobby if I wasn’t back as I walked down the hallway behind Sam toward Lex’s office.

“What do you think he wants?”

Same didn’t turn to respond. “Don’t know. He just asked to see us two.”

What could he possibly need? I kept my nose down, sold my loans, and kept it pushing. I didn’t make waves. Sam, on the other hand…

“Ah! Thank you both for coming on short notice. I won’t keep you too long.”

Sam and I each took a seat in front of Lex’s desk. Our boss, a tall, older man with white hair and his shirt unbuttoned the top two buttons, stood up and rounded the desk, leaning against it.

“I’m certain you don’t know why I’ve brought you here.” We both just nodded. “Right, well I’ll get straight to it.”

He went back to his chair, sitting down and waking his computer. “I assume you’re both familiar with Shamrock Lending?”

“Aren’t they the company that just declared bankruptcy?” I furrowed my brow, my question making him nod.

“Nearly. They’ve backed out of that.” Sam and I looked at each other inquisitively. “We’re absorbing them, including their employees and client base.”

“Why?” Sam sounded unamused.

“Shamrock maintained a prestigious client-base and had great word of mouth. The pandemic killed the business, and with them having been such a small company to begin with, it didn’t cost us much. And now we can retain their clientele, including their celebrity accounts.” He had his chin resting in his hands. “They sold Kelly Clarkson a house last year.”

Sam snorted. “So, what does that have to do with us?”

I had to forcibly not roll my eyes at his disrespectful attitude.

Lex looked intrigued, staring directly at Sam.

“I’m glad you asked, Samuel.” The sound of his full name made Sam visibly straighten. “We need to do something to boost morale for their employees. Shamrock was a family-owned company so most of their staff are…less than thrilled at coming over to Kline.”

“I could understand that.” I empathized.

“Exactly. So we are going to arrange for a company event, something to lighten the spirits. Eating, drinking, and overall merriment.” He pointed at us. “Oh, and live music! That always gets people excited.”

He stood again. “I need you both to organize it. You’re my top performers, so I trust you both to be able to arrange something within the next week or so.”

My eyes widened. We had to what?!

“With all due respect sir, but when you say organize?”

“Find a venue, get catering, hire a band, all that jazz.”

“My family has an estate on a vineyard in Escondido. Perfect for this.” Sam was now smiling confidently. Kiss ass.

Lex snapped. “Wonderful! We need this ready happen by the end of September. The merge is effective as of October 1st.”

I’m so fucked.

The following seven days had been a blur. A long, exhausting, frustrating blur. I had to reschedule so many appointments so Sam and I could work on the event.

Venue was no issue, but we needed catering, entertainment, staff, decorations, which is what Sam and I were currently arguing over.

The amount of arguing we had done over the last week had drained everything out of me. Spending this much time with him was absolutely ungodly. He was so difficult to tolerate, his bravado and over enthusiastic flirting got so far under my skin I could feel it in my bones.

“We need a theme!”

“It’s not junior prom, Sam! We don’t need casino night!”

He scoffed, pacing over the floor in my office while I sat, my fingertips rubbing my temples.

“So it’s just a ‘Hey we get you hate us, but get drunk and have salmon’ party?!’

We were interrupted by the door opening, Chrissy, the janitor, coming to clean my office.

“Oh! I’m sorry. I thought you guys were gone.” She backed out and closed the door.

“Jesus Christ, what time is it?” I checked my watch. “Ugh, it’s already seven. I’ve got to go.”

“No, no, we need to finish this. The event is in three days.” He pulled his phone out. “I’m ordering some pizza.”

I stood up in protest. “As fun as that sounds, I’ve got to go walk my dog. Or he’ll piss in the house.”

He locked his phone and gave me a disgusting grin. “No worries, we can just finish at your place.”

My face must have mimicked my disdain because he only smiled wider. I groaned and sat back down.

“Fine. Let’s just finish it.”

I finally swung my front door open at 9PM, exhaustion and agitation fueling me the entire ride home. Angel met me at the door, eyes big, obviously concerned for my whereabouts. He's never left alone quite this long, more so these last few months with Noah picking him up nearly every day.

"Hey baby." He barked in response while I kicked my heels off. "I'm so sorry I was gone so long."

He ran to the back door in response. I dropped my bag right there on the floor, slipping my slides on and striding to let Angel out.

I stepped outside with him, watching as he disappeared near the trees in the corner of the yard, undoubtedly relieving himself. I stayed on the wooden porch, flopping down into the wooden chair at the table. I slipped a single cigarette out of the pack next to the ashtray and lit the end with a match. I didn't indulge in my nicotine habit often, only in times of severe stress. I bought a pack the day I learned of the event and had smoked one each night after work.

I hadn't told Noah that.

This reminded me that I hadn't heard from him all day. I slipped my phone out of my pocket, taking a long drag from my smoke.

I pressed call as soon as I found his name in my recent list, noticing our last phone call was yesterday afternoon. We hadn't talked hardly at all since Sunday, when the shows became more frequent and my work started taking up all my damn time. Our nightly calls had been skipped a few times now, and we mostly communicated over text. Until now, I hadn't noticed how badly I missed him until I saw his contact photo show up when the phone rang; a picture of him sleeping, Angel stretched out over his stomach, snoozing comfortably on my bed.

I put the phone on speaker and set it on the table, leaning back in my chair.

"Hello?" His voice that came through was loud. There was a ton of background noise and voices. There was also some kind of music. Music I didn't recognize - heavy bass drums, some kind of high-pitched synth, with rhythmic reverb. Club music?

"Hey babe. What're you doing?" I could hear shuffling on the other end.

"What?" He couldn't hear me. "Hang on, babe. One sec." The phone then went completely silent, evidently muted.

After a few moments, I could hear sound again, but it was much quieter. "Hey babe, I'm sorry. I couldn't hear shit in there."

"What are you doing?" My voice was sharp, which I wasn't sure if it was due to me being wildly suspicious all of a sudden, or the frustration bleeding over from work.

"Oh, uh, after the show the guys wanted to stop off at this place on our way back to the hotel." His voice sounded intentionally nonchalant.

"What kind of place?"

He was quiet. Too fucking quiet.

"Babe, don't freak out." He sighed heavily. "It's a bar, and look-"

"You're at a fucking bar?!" I stood up, dropping my cigarette into the ashtray.

"Babe, please don't yell at me." I squeezed my eyes shut and pinched the bridge of my nose, forcibly evening out my voice.

"Noah, why the hell are you at a bar?" I said through gritted teeth.

"It's one of the guys' in ERRA's birthday tonight. We're just here to celebrate. I'm going to be fine." He was annoyed, I could hear it. I was 'sponsor'-ing him, but I didn't fucking care.

"Please don't drink, Noah." He groaned.

"I won't, Leena." His voice was slightly venomous. This bothered me. How could he not understand why I was upset by this? It was a valid fucking reason to be upset. He was right on top of earning his 6-month chip.

"Good. Because I swear to God, I will snatch those chips away from you so fucking fast."

He didn't even breathe. "Nick is here. He'll keep me straight."

"He's not drinking?"

"No."

"Okay." I sat back down.

"I'll call you when I get back to the hotel and after I shower."

"Okay." I picked my cigarette back up. "I love you."

"Love you too." Click. My heart tugged. It felt wrong.

When he finally called me, I was already half asleep. I had showered, finished getting ready for bed, and began fading while watching Supernatural. It was typically unheard of for me to pass out so early, but I was positively exhausted.

My phone began singing next to my face, and I moaned in defeat. I just wanted to be unconscious.

"Hey." My voice was thick with sleep.

"Hey, were you sleeping?" His voice sounded pretty sleepy too. It was past his bedtime.

"I was, but I'm fine." I sat up in bed. I ran a hand over Angel, who was now sound asleep in Noah's spot on my bed.

"Mmm. How was your day?"

I leaned back on my pillows, yawning. "It was long. Had to stay late again."

"With Sam?"

This made me snap to attention. The bite in his tone startled me. "Yeah, unfortunately."

"Hmm." He was making a lot of humming noises tonight. "Been spending a lot of time with him, yeah?"

You're fucking kidding. Noah was not getting jealous...of Shithead Sam?!

"Not voluntarily. We just had to get this event worked out."

"And did you?" He was still so serious. Nothing like what I was used to with Noah.

"Yes." My words were slow, still in disbelief at his attitude. "The event is on Saturday over in the valley. I'll be driving down there Saturday morning to make sure it gets set up."

"Well, I'm sure he'll meet you there."

I had about enough.

"Noah, what's your problem?" I was serious now, over whatever bullshit game it was he was playing.

"I don't have one." He paused. "Do you?"

Is he instigating an argument? "I didn't think so, but you're acting weird." I sighed. "I don't like it."

I heard him breathe, a sigh, maybe? "I'm sorry."

I didn't respond.

"I don't know, I just don't like that guy."

I sat up, pausing the television. "I know you don't. Neither do I. But why be rude to me over it?"

"Well, you spending so much time with him bothers me."

"...and?" I furrowed my brow, bewildered. "I can't help that we got put on this project together."

He snickered. "I mean..." He trailed off.

"What?" I dared him.

"You could have said no."

My jaw dropped. Was he for fucking real? "How do you figure? The President of the company I work for tells me to organize an event, and I just...what? Decline?"

"Pretty much."

I shook my head, absolutely flabbergasted. "Are you fucking joking?" My voice was raised.

"I asked you not to yell at me."

I swung my legs over the bed and began pacing. "Well, that's hard to do when you're acting like this."

"Like what?" His voice was so even, so calm. It was getting under my skin.

"Like a jealous boyfriend!"

He was silent for a minute. "Am I not?"

"Oh my fucking God, Noah! You have nothing to be jealous about!" I was now laughing, but not because it was funny, but because it was so ridiculous. "The guy is fucking putrid!"

"So I've heard." That evenness in his tone was going to kill me, or get him killed if I get my hands on him. I knew that bullshit. It was manipulative, which up until this point, I didn't think Noah was. He had never acted like this before.

"Noah, you don't fucking get it. He's the opposite of attractive. He reminds me of my ex." I had never admitted that before, to him or myself. I didn't think about him often.

"Right, yeah. The ex-boyfriend you never want to talk about. Got it." There was a slight inflection in his voice. Good. At least I know he isn't a robot.

He was just a fucking asshole.

My voice was calm now, still as standing fucking water. "That's correct."

"Leaves me with lots of questions, Mileena."

Who the fuck was this douchebag on the phone with me? What piece of garbage was I talking to? It wasn't Noah. Not my Noah.

"I'm hanging up." My hand was shaking now.

"Sure, yeah, ignore the problem." He was getting worked up. I couldn't tell if that was better or worse.

"No, I'm just not letting this go any further." I took a breath to keep voice even. "You should get some rest."

"No, c'mon, let's talk about it! You always want to know about me and my fucking skeletons in the closet! Where's yours? What's the big fucking secret? Why do I have to pull fucking teeth to get you to fucking talk about your ex? Or your drinking? Or anything fucking personal?!" He was full-blown screaming now, and I was frozen solid.

He wasn't wrong. I always avoided talking about Jeremy, at all God damn costs. He enabled my drinking, he set back my sobriety, and that was the mild stuff.

"Noah...please stop." My voice was cracking now.

"Whatever. So much for a trusting fucking relationship."

That was it. That broke the dam. That sent me spiraling.

"Are you fucking KIDDING me?! You call me, start a fucking fight, and then have the audacity to say I can't be trusted you fucking bastard?! Why? Because I don't want to talk about the asshole that drove me to drink because he was abusing me so badly?! Who slapped me around so much that only the alcohol made it bearable?! Back when I tried to kill myself, couldn't because I was so God damn drunk, and ended up going back to him because he convinced me no one else would ever love me?!"

I couldn't stop. He flipped the switch and you can't just undo that.

"Fuck you, Noah! Fuck you and your bullshit jealousy and trust issues!" Tears were streaming down my face, blurring my vision. Somewhere, I felt Angel's nose pressing into the side of my leg. "Now go the fuck to sleep before I tell you to go to hell instead!"

I ended the call, before he could respond. My shaky hands frantically turned my phone off before I could receive a text or a call back.

I had put my phone on vibrate all day Friday, spending the majority of the day in my bed sulking. I didn't want to talk to anyone; Laura, my Dad, most importantly, Noah. Anytime I thought about it, I started crying. I laid in bed, only getting up to let Angel out and get snacks from the kitchen. I laid in bed, watching comedy movies to try and relieve my mind.

It wasn't until I woke up Saturday morning that I finally read all of the missed texts.

The night of the fight:

Noah: Leena I'm such a fcking asshole. I'm sorry. Pleese call me back.

Noah: Babe I don't even know what got into m please.

Noah: Yourr phone is going straigt to voicemail. I guess you turned it off. I'm going to sleep now. I love you. Call me please?

Friday morning:

Noah: Is your phone back on?

Noah: Guess not.

Noah: Leena, please call me. I feel sick thinking about how dumb I was being. I promise I will never do that again. I swear. Please just respond to me.

Nick: Leena, Noah won't stop asking me to text you. Please call him.

Noah: I'm about to cancel the show tonight and fly home. Please Leena.

Noah: Nick said I can't cancel the show. Too short notice. Please call me. I need to hear your voice.

Friday evening:

Noah: Look, I've tried really hard to be patient but I'm starting to freak out. Babe, please. I was stupid. I will never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever do anything like that again. I have no idea what got into me.

Noah: I'm going to quit texting now. I'm sorry. I can't tell you how sorry. Call me when you're ready. I love you so much, more than you'll ever know Leena. Always.

I sighed hard. I wasn't angry anymore, mostly just hurt. I really wanted Noah to be different, but after the way he was talking, it was hard to believe. Nothing made sense. In five months, he had not spoken like that to me at all. He was always so laid back, even about things that bothered him.

Something was wrong. Something was different.

Unfortunately, I didn't have time to ponder it, as I had to get ready to drive to Escondido and get this hellscape of a day over with.

I decided to send him a response, but not give too much.

Me: I love you too. We'll talk tonight. Have a good show.

All things considered, the vineyard was absolutely stunning. The event was exactly how we planned, music elegant but still upbeat. The food was high-class, Kline sparing no expense. People were swaying and mingling, their drinks from the open bar settling nicely into their systems.

I was stood on a hill just out of sight of the happenings down by the massive estate home, overlooking the winery. Vines upon vines of grapes grew, causing such an incredible landscape while the sun began to set over the hills. It soothed the ache in my soul.

I heard footsteps approaching behind me, and gauging the weight of them, I rolled my eyes, knowing my moment was spoiled.

"Too good for the party?" I sighed. Sam's voice was the same as always, condescending and arrogant.

I turned, my long, olive green dress twisting at the skirt. "Nope, just taking a breather."

"Is it hard? Being around people drinking?" For once, he didn't sound like he was being judgmental, and it caught me off guard.

I shook my head lightly. "No. Not really anymore."

He nodded, standing next to me with his hands in his pockets.

"Hell of a view."

I shrugged. "It is."

He nudged my shoulder, gesturing over to a stable to his left. "Want to go see the horses?"

I smirked. "I'm okay, thank you."

He narrowed his eyes at me playfully. "C'mon, girl. Everyone loves horses!"

I chuckled. I contemplated this for a moment. I do love horses, having ridden many when I was younger.

Sam began stalking toward the barn, waving me along. "Just for a minute. You'll love them!"

I rolled my eyes, but still, I stomped after him, my heels nearly sinking into the grass beneath me.

He pulled the door open, the familiar smell of hay and feed hitting me in the nostrils. It was a comforting smell, reminding me of the horses my Dad helped tend when I was a little girl.

He walked into one of the stalls. "This one," he pulled on a rein, a stunning black horse peering out of the stall. I was drawn, walking up to her and smiling. "is mine. Her name is Onyx."

Her large nose pressed into my hand. I ran a hand up her face, reveling in the feel of her silky fur.

"She's amazing." I was in awe.

"Yeah, she's a good girl. Rides like a champ." I nodded.

"I'll bet she does." I backed away from her, peering over at Sam.

"You want to see another?" I nodded, a soft smile on my face.

He waved me down the stable, opening a stall at the end. "Come on."

I didn't see a horse, but I stepped in front of the door, confused. Sam was gone, and the stall was empty. I took a step forward just beyond the door, puzzled.

"Sam?"

It was at that exact second, a hand clapped over my mouth from behind, and a large, thick arm came to snake around me around the waist, holding my arms down to my sides and pulling me in close.

Sam had me pinned, his body pressed against my back, as I began writhing and struggling beneath him. Oh no. No, no, no, no.

I struggled as hard as I could, working my arms around in an attempt to get free. I felt his breath on the side of my face, his voice low and hushed.

"Shh, hang on there, girl. Wouldn't want anyone to know we're in here." I screamed against his hand, forcing him to clamp down harder, giving the feeling that my jaw may break.

Please, fucking, please, no.

"You've been playing this 'hard to get' bullshit for so long. It was about time we finally made it happen, huh?"

His hand over my mouth slid down to my neck, squeezing so tight that my vision began turning fuzzy.

I choked hard, trying like hell to get words out. "S-Sam, please, d-don't."

He had turned us around, pushing me against the wall of the stable. His hand that wasn't holding my throat was roaming up my skirt, his giant palm under my dress and tugging at my underwear. I thrashed again, trying like hell to get an inch so I could slip out of his grasp. It was futile. He had me, I was trapped.

I felt his fingers slipping into the hem of my panties, sneaking underneath. His hands violated me, making hot tears pour out of my eyes. I squeezed them shut, trying to just focus on having enough air to stay conscious. If I pass out, it's over.

I ignored his hands on me, and focused. His feet. His feet were the only shot I had.

I shifted my weight onto my other leg, realizing his was immediately behind mine, using both legs to keep mine spread.

I lifted my foot, and with as much force as I could muster, I jammed my heel into top of his foot, causing him to jump back, his hands releasing me at once. Without hesitation, once my arms were free, I reached my elbow back, connecting it with his face. I felt something crunch beneath my arm, but I didn't care.

As soon as he was no longer on top of me, I ran. I booked straight out of the barn, my vision slowly returning.

I was running back toward the party, up the hill. That's when I stopped. My dress was ripped on the strap, my hair was tangled up, and my makeup had to be running down my face. I was a mess. I looked insane.

I had to get the hell out.

I began sprinting to the parking lot, passing several people on my way but not stopping. I ran to my car that, thankfully, I had left unlocked, keys in the visor. I turned the engine over and tore out of the parking lot.

I didn't care that I blew past multiple stop signs. I pulled onto the interstate and drove. I drove until I couldn't see the winery behind me. Until I could barely see at all because my eyes were watering so badly. My breathing was so sporadic. My hands were screaming with how tight I had been gripping the steering wheel.

I finally snapped out of my state, realizing I needed to stop.

I pulled off on the next exit, finding a rest stop just off the highway and pulled into the parking lot. I sat there, staring out of the windshield, tears streaming, trying to calm my breathing.

It took me a moment to realize I had stopped, and for my brain to begin functioning again.

I picked up my phone, opening it and ignoring texts and missed calls and going straight to my contacts.

I pressed 'Call' and waited for the line to pick up.

"Hey babes, what's up?" Laura's voice rang through the line.

"I need help."

#noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens #fanfic

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