#or my employment troubles would be over

[joelletwo]

WAIT i never complained abt my scheduling lol. still have not seen my actual boss more than that one five seconds and me and main coworker are supposed to work coverage out amongst ourselves bc thats more relevant fine and okay. but i ask her about what i should switch to going more part time and off of being Fulltime In Training and she says oh ill talk to [boss] about it. and then does and tells me oh [boss] wants to talk to u about that today or tomorrow.

she never does and shes never in her office so i dont hear anything by friday when i work w my second coworker. who i dont really think either of us vibes w the other lol weve been nice but im happy not to work w her. and the feeling is mutual bc she told me oh is this ur last friday i didnt think u were working [boss] told me u were going to be switching to mon-thru-thursday. OKAY? thats really funnily pointed but WHY DID SHE TELL U AND NOT MEEEEEEE. why cant i just know what im working more than two days in advance lolllllll. i am not made for this pwease.

[pyeongstarr]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Nothing's Free — 박성화

˙⋆✮ pairing/s: dilf!seonghwa x fem!intern

˙⋆✮ in which: you are eternally grateful to your best friend's dad for giving you an internship, but just how grateful are you really?

˙⋆✮ genre/s: smut

˙⋆✮ warnings: unprotected sex, drunk sex, cnc, coercion, dubcon. choking, dacryphilia, creampie, spanking, hair pulling, bondage. power imbalance, reader got roofied (sorry). seonghwa is really persuasive and isn't taking 'no' for an answer. reader has always had a crush on hwa but you know...

˙⋆✮ word count: 4.5k

˙⋆✮ author's note: i know stuff like cnc isn't everyone's cup of tea and that's fine. read at your own discretion. xoxo. (this turned out a lot darker than i intended, sorry)

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။|||| | beyoncé // all up in your mind

“Again, thanks a ton for hooking me up with this internship,” Murphy remarked while packing her laptop into her bag.

“No problem. You’re basically family, anything for you,” Sujin reassured her best friend.

As she walked towards the door, she turned to say, “Also, is the car necessary? I’m perfectly fine with taking the train.”

“You’re just gonna have to talk to my dad about it, sorry,” Sujin joked, waving ‘goodbye’ as the door closed and Murphy went on her merry way.

She was already behind on time as it was, after her alarm had failed to go off and wake her. Heels clinking against the marble floors as she speedwalked to the elevator, catching it just before the doors shut. As soon as the doors opened, she walked swiftly through the lobby and exited the building. Parked on the roadside right in front of the entrance, there was a black Mercedes sedan waiting, just for her. The chauffeur stood at attention with their hands behind their back. The main advantage of living in the inner city was the short commute between work and home. Although the chauffeur tried their best to weave through the traffic congestion, she still arrived 30 minutes later than usual.

As grateful as she was for the employment opportunity, what she abhored most was the environment. Or rather, how the environment reacted to her. Everybody knew everybody, but she knew almost nobody. Sentenced to exhile by those who fawned over the head honcho, simply because she was the favourite. While others had worked there for years on end, Murphy just came strutting in one day and given a seat at the boss’ desk. Accompanied him to every meeting, assisted with every project. She was basically his righthand woman, and the other ladies were not pleased, to say the least. It was the same routine all-around; she’d exit the elevator, walk chin-up into the office while the echo of her heels subdued the ambience, the others would gawk and scoff, and she’d beeline straight to her superior’s quarters.

The office was empty, no sign of the boss in sight. None of his belongings were there but the telephone rang incessantly, cutting through the austere silence. She jogged over to the desk, laid her bag and coat down on her side of the desk, and circled around to answer the phone. She sat down in the leather chair and pressed the phone to her ear.

“Park Real Estate, Murphy Isles speaking, how may I help you?” Her voice softly heralded.

“Good morning. This is Ingrid Maxwell of Kim Resorts, I was looking to get a meeting with Mr. Park today on behalf of Kim Hongjoong. Do you have any available openings?”

“Let me check how his schedule is looking,” She turned on the computer and located the planner. Her eyes browsed through the schedule, just one meeting after another.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Park has back-to-back meetings all day. I could pencil you in for after hours if it’s urgent?” She offered apologetically.

“That’s also fine, thank you. Mr. Kim would like to host the meeting on resort premises, if it’s not any trouble.”

“Noted, Mr. Park will be there at 17:30. Send my regards.”

As the phone call neared its end, Seonghwa came strutting in. A rush of heat washed over in waves on Murphy’s face and she suddenly felt her body warm up. She stood up and stepped aside, allowing Seonghwa to take his rightful place. With his hair slicked back, slivers of grey creeping in, and suit hugging his body just right, he was a silver fox in the making. A sight for the ages. The man had a perpetual grave look to him. Despite being old enough to father her, he admittedly had an allure that she couldn’t find in boys her age.

When Murphy and Sujin graduated from university a few months prior, Sujin swayed her father into hiring Murphy. Seonghwa was a successful entrepreneur, who headed a real estate empire, and having known Murphy since she was in high school, he was more than willing to give her the headstart that she was in dire need of. Even going as far as, not only hiring her a private car to take her everywhere she wanted to go, but also purchasing a condo in which she and his daughter could cohabitate. He wanted to make life simple for her.

“Kim Hongjoong’s assistant asked for a meeting today, said it was urgent. The meeting’s at 17:30.”

“Is that so?” He coaxed, leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped together, holding Murphy’s gaze. “Must be important if he wants to meet after hours.”

Murphy settled down in the chair opposite Seonghwa. “Also, Mr. Park, is the private car really necessary? The train stations are within walking distance of the office and the condo.”

“Nonsense. If you’re going to work for me, it should reflect. Don’t worry about it,” A lazy grin tugged at his lips.

“I don’t know about that. The whole office already hates me for even sharing a desk with you,” She mindlessly grumbled as she set up her laptop, but her words didn’t miss him.

He leaned forward in his chair, eyebrows furrowed, “Who’s giving you trouble, Murphy?” He pried.

“No one, it’s nothing,” She feigned a smile and kept her eyes focussed on the screen.

[ . . . ]

Towards the end of business hours, while Murphy sat in her place, another intern, Wooyoung, leaned liberally against Seonghwa’s desk, facing her. In the past few minutes they had been talking, he’d managed to make her laugh and blush. The pair hit it off from the day Murphy set foot in the office months ago, but it was only a week back when Wooyoung had conjured up the courage to ask her out, to which Murphy enthusiastically agreed to entertain his suggestion.

“So, we’re still on for tonight, right?” Wooyoung hinted, and Murphy nodded. “Awesome, you’re gonna love this place, Murph. I’m telling you,” He held her chin between his fingers.

The door opened so soundlessly, that neither were aware until they heard Seonghwa’s weighted footsteps headed towards them. He caught sight of what had transpired, slightly annoyed that it was happening in the sanctity of his own space. Wooyoung scrambled to get on his feet, while Murphy remained resolute. Seonghwa loomed over the intern, eyes cold and stygian, and face void of expression.

“No fraternising during work hours, unless you want to serve a 1-hour notice,” He chastised. “You do that out there, not in my office, and certainly not on my desk.”

Wooyoung bowed his head in shame, “I’m sorry, Mr. Park. It won’t happen again,” he conceded before scurrying away, and out of the office.

“Wooyoung dropped off the market reports. Looks like your shares have gone up 2% in valuation,” She handed over the sheet of paper.

Seonghwa leaned against the desk, in the same spot formerly occupied by Wooyoung, as he surveyed the findings. “Slow but steady growth. Looks promising, what do you think?”

“I’d say this is your best investment thus far. Look,” She turned the laptop to him, “month-end projections, 35% in returns. Your shares will be worth millions by the end of the quarter.”

“I’m so glad that I listened to you on this one.”

“You’re welcome,” She chimed.

A cheek-to-cheek smile appeared on Seonghwa’s face. “Let’s go, don’t want to be late for that meeting.”

The two cleared the desk and packed away their belongings. Walking towards the door, she trailed right behind while he led the way. He opened the door and made way for her to step out. After locking, they fell into pace with one another as they walked side by side towards the exit. From wall to wall, eyes in the office followed them all the way to the elevator. With each set, she grew more anxious than usual. How she hoped the earth would just open up and swallow her. The chauffeur opened the doors for both of them, then drove to their intended destination. While Seonghwa spoke on the phone, Murphy sat with one leg crossed over the other, watching the buildings pass by in motion. Luckily, the Friday afternoon traffic had not begun yet. They arrived just in time, with only a few minutes to spare.

When they entered the premises, they were greeted by a concierge who led them through the building. They walked past a grand dining hall with grand chandeliers that hung from above, glass windows from floor to ceiling, and rustic décor, all of which caught Murphy’s eye. The look in her eyes did not pass him. Inside of the office, Seonghwa and Murphy were greeted by Kim Hongjoong, the head of the resort, and his secretary, Ingrid. They exchanged greetings, but right before the meeting began, Hongjoong whispered something into Ingrid’s ear, and she nodded.

Ingrid walked over to Murphy, “Let’s go get something to drink, shall we? Leave the gentlemen be,” she suggested.

She was hesitant to move from her spot but Seonghwa reassured her, giving her the green light. Ingrid and Murphy left the office, and took their places at an unoccupied table on the balcony. A waiter approached them, jotted down their orders in his notebook, and disappeared. He returned with a tray holding two beverages, and placed each one in front of the girls.

“So, what’s it like working for Mr. Park? Never seen him come to these meetings with anyone, other than himself,” Ingrid sipped on her drink.

“I like it. For the most part, the job’s easy and the pay is even better. Can’t say I’ve made friends though.”

“I’ve heard,” Murphy’s eyebrows furrowed with curiosity. “I have a friend who works at Park Real Estate, they talked about you once.”

“Oh God…”

“Nothing bad, don’t worry about it,” Ingrid chuckled lightly. “I get it, happened to me when I first started working for Hongjoong.”

“The stares… did they ever stop? The gossip?” A hint of desperation was laced in her question.

“No,” Ingrid refuted. “I just stopped caring. Realised that Hongjoong’s opinion was the only one that mattered. Can’t help that the boss loves me.”

The sky was soon void of any light by the time the meeting concluded. Ingrid and Murphy talked the time away, bonding over their shared experiences of being the boss’ favourite. One laughed, while the other would relay a story. They didn’t realise how fast the time had past them. On the other end of the passageway, Seonghwa and Hongjoong were just wrapping up their meeting. They stood by the door and talked a bit. Hongjoong reached into his pocket and brought out a key, which he handed over to Seonghwa. He looked at it, confused by the gesture.

“On the house,” Hongjoong urged, hinting at the intern at the other end of the passageway. “Ask Ingrid to throw in some party favours, in case you need them. And check the drawers.”

Seonghwa smirked, “Pleasure doing business with you, Kim.”

Hongjoong disappeared back into his office, as Seonghwa sauntered over to the balcony. Unbeknownst to her, Murphy was so engrossed in the conversation, she didn’t hear when Seonghwa called to her.

“Mr. Park…” Ingrid acknowledged the man who stood right beside Murphy.

“Ingrid, Hongjoong mentioned something about party favours?” Seonghwa briefly glanced at Murphy, Ingrid nodded with a slight grin on her face.

“It was nice meeting you, Murphy. I really hope we can do this again,” Ingrid said as she stood from her place.

Murphy stood up and circled around to hug Ingrid, “I’ll call you,” she affirmed.

The three exchanged goodbyes before Ingrid headed elsewhere, and Seonghwa accompanied Murphy towards the exit. They headed in the same direction they came in earlier, except now, He led them into the dining hall that she was doting over earlier on. She felt uneasy as she had to get home and prepare for her date with Wooyoung.

“Mr. Park, I need to get home. There’s somewhere that I really need to be.”

“Relax, Murphy. We won’t be long, 30 minutes, I promise.”

And 30 minutes it was. Only 30 minutes into their shared dinner, Murphy had already had a lot to drink, but not enough to get her drunk. Just buzzed. Buzzed enough to get her to loosen up. Enough to see Seonghwa as just a man, and not her best friend’s father. While they drank and talked the time away, he would briefly touch her intimately in passing. Their conversations were less rigid and formal, and more open and inviting.

“Earlier you mentioned being mistreated in the office, what’s wrong?”

At first she was hesitant, but eventually allowed herself to be honest. “Everyone basically... h-hates me because they think you’re playing favourites,” Her voice quaked and her breath shuddered, her head hung.

“You don’t really believe that, do you now?”

She sniffled and her back shuddered, the faint sound of her weeping landed on his ears. He held her chin between his fingers and cocked her head up, meeting her glossy, distressed eyes. His thumb brushed away a stray tear.

“I’m sorry,” She croaked. “I- I thought I could get past it and pretend it’s not happening. But I’m just having a hard time adjusting. I feel like a castaway and I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear.”

“I believe you, but you know, it’s only natural that I favour you. I’ve known you the longest.”

When she noticed how inappropriate the entire interaction had become, she wiped her tears. “Oh God...” She whispered, gulping down the rest of her wine. “I- I need to go, I’m meeting somebody.”

As she stood up from her place, her head suddenly felt light. She held onto the table, and as she was about to stand again, her muscles became languid, causing her to lose balance. Seonghwa was quick to catch her around the waist. She tried speaking, but her words were jumbled. Her breathing was laboured, and the whole room suddenly felt like it was lacking in ventilation. He took her belongings and led her to a room, using the key acquired earlier on and unlocked the door.

He laid her down gently on the bed. His eyes watched with a raging hunger as he undressed his upper body, removing the tie, jacket, and shirt. He crawled onto the bed and hovered over her semi-conscious body. His lips found her neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses, nibbling at her skin. His hand fiddled with the front zipper of her dress, slowly dragging it down to reveal her matching set of underwear.

“Mr. Park... w-what are you doing? I...” She gulped as her words lazily hung in the air. “I don’t feel so good...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of you,” He promised between kisses. “You’ll feel better in no time...”

He continued to kiss her neck and bare chest, whilst his hands caressed her thighs with desperation. Roaming everywhere from her breasts, to her ass. He loved the feeling of her skin in his hands. The contact was everything. The scent of her perfume created a bubble of sophism, fooling him into believing that they were fated to be.

“You asked for this, Murphy. Those skimpy little dresses you wear and always putting your boobs in my face. You were just begging for me to give it to you,” He growled into her ears, sending a wave of fear coursing through her body.

He posited himself between her thighs and pressed kisses on her stomach. Each kiss moved higher than the last. Wetter and sloppier than before. Murphy squirmed beneath him while he had her hands pinned over her head. With the little energy she had, her feet tried kicking him off, but did so to no avail.

“Please, no...” She wept, tears running down the sides of her face as the white pillowcases stained with mascara. “Mr. Park, don’t... Please...”

He halted all actions and immediately stood up from the bed. A sense of relief enveloped her, but the tears just wouldn’t cease. The fear of how far it all would have gone had he ignored her. A part of her also felt guilty because how was she supposed to face her best friend, knowing what her father had just done? She sat up on the edge of the bed, wiping her tears while Seonghwa put on his dress shirt.

“Make sure your side of my desk is cleaned out by Monday, don’t bother coming back to work,” Seonghwa’s words were harsh and heavy with consequence.

“W-what?”

“You’re fired.”

“N-no, Mr. Park, you can’t do that!” She blurted, panic setting in with every passing moment.

“Frankly, I can,” He boasted as he buttoned up his shirt. “Clearly, you don’t appreciate this opportunity that I’ve given you. God, do you know how many graduates would die to work for me?”

She stood up and slowly approached him, but nearly lost her balance, so she held on to the nearby glass table for support. “I do appreciate it, I really do. I just– I– ” She sputtered as the fear of unemployment became more potent.

“You what?”

“I– don’t fire me, please,” She begged. “Just– I’ll do whatever you want,” Her hands began undoing the buttons of his shirt and hesitantly tugged on the hem of his trousers. “It’s... Sujin... She’d never forgive me.”

“It’ll be our little secret, then. Nobody has to know, now do they?”

He wiped away her tears and dipped down to catch her lips. While his pressed firmly against hers, and his tongue moved meticulously inside her mouth, she was still apprehensive. Each time their tongues met, a tear would roll down her cheek. The guilt was just overwhelming, but the need to keep her job was stronger. She removed his dress shirt. Her fingertips were delicate, touching every inch of his carved torso, until she unzipped his trousers. He stopped her from reaching in. Instead, he removed her dress and undergarments.

Nearby was a small table, in which he bent her over, her ass brushing against his throbbing, clothed cock. Tremors meandered up her spine when her nipples met the cold feel of the table’s glass surface. She hissed. When he dropped his trousers to the floor, his cock sprung out, slapping against his stomach then grazing her skin. He was massive with a bright pink tip, very generous in both length and girth. While he stroked himself, he palmed a handful of her cheek, kneading it. A crackling sound bounced off the walls when his hand met her cheek at full force, illiciting a whimper. He spread her cheeks open, his tongue lapping up her juices. He lined himself up at her entrance. The tip alone stretched her out, and without so much as a warning, he slammed into her tight, sopping hole. Filling her right up. She lurched forward as she whined, and tears ran down her temples and onto the table.

His hands gripped her waist with efficacy, nails digging into her skin. Each thrust was slow and hard, affording him the opportunity to slap her ass as much as he wished. His pace slowly started picking up, with Murphy trying to reach back and slow him down. Instead, grabbed both her hands and pinned them to her back.

“Naughty bunny. Your body, my rules, understood?” He dictated.

“Y-yes, Mr. Park,” She moaned breathlessly.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair, and began thrusting into her relentlessly. The sound of his hips snapping against her ass echoed louder than the rumbling air conditioner Her legs trembled as a trail of cum glid down her thighs. Her moans and his grunts sung together like a ballad. He moved sporadically as she grew tighter around him, her first orgasm of the night slowly crept in. His pace remained steady while she came undone all over his cock. A white ring formed around him. But he was not looking to cum just yet, no. He wanted to look her dead in the eyes as he laid claim over her entire livelihood.

As Murphy slowly descended from her high, Seonghwa hoisted her up and sat her on the table. She leaned back as he spread her legs open, holding them up with his arms. He slammed back into her drenched hole, grinding up against her. Her face glistened with sweat, as did his. They held each other’s eyes, refusing to look away. The way her breasts danced with every thrust, the smudged mascara, the rosy cheeks and nose, the disheveled hair; he appreciated the sight of this miscellany. He did that. His hand snaked around her neck, squeezing at the sides, and brought her face closer.

“I ever catch you with that punk again, I’ll fire you both. You work for me, so you do as I say, am I clear?” He growled under his breath.

“He’s out of my life,” She nodded profusely, “I promise.”

His own orgasm finally washed over him, yet he continued grinding into her. As the waves of pleasure washed over him, he held her eyes in his, her arms swung over his shoulders. They shared a deep, passionate kiss as ribbons of warm cum painted her walls. He had successfully marked his territory like he had dreamt of doing for months. They both watched as he slowly thrusted cum back into her abused core.

“So... beautiful,” She whispered as she watched him thrust in and out.

He smirked to himself, “See, that’s why you’re my favourite worker bee,” he coaxed. “I’m not done with you just yet.”

Carrying her astride, he walked over to the bed and laid her down on her back. He leaned over to reach into the bedside drawer. He opened it, only to find 2 pairs of handcuffs staring him in the eye. The glimmer of the ceiling lights danced on the silver surface, enticing and provoking him. He took them out and started prepping them for usage. In a state of delirium, Murphy still managed to make out what was in Seonghwa’s hands. She attempted to lift her head off the pillow, but he pushed her back down.

The sound of the metal locking around her wrist put her in a sudden state of panic. “Mr. Park, I don’t like this...”

He ignored her as he locked the other end around her ankle. “Mr. Park, please,” Fear was palpable in her voice, “I– I don’t like being restrained, please, don’t...”

“Shhh,” He uttered, “I’d never hurt you, bunny,” She weakly clawed at his chest, only for her freed wrist to be cuffed down. “Don’t worry, it’ll be over before you know it. Let me show you how my favourite employee really deserves to be treated.”

“Please, I’ve been so good. Not this...” She sobbed, body squirming under his weight as she felt his tip graze her aching core.

He balanced himself on his elbows as he slotted himself between her thighs, silencing her heartfelt pleas with a soft kiss, which she cried into. A desperate attempt to connect in a way he could not with sex. A low moan arose from her diaphragm when he steadily fitted himself back inside of her. He pecked her once more before burying his face into the crook of her neck, finding his rhythm as grinded into her with practiced precision. Her once distressed cries, now replaced by pleasured whimpers, landed on his ears and encouraged him to continue using her however he wished.

“Why’re you always teasing me with the way that you dress? Why’re you testing my limits?”

“Because I can...” Her voice so sultry, she proclaimed into his ear.

With a lot more speed, he thrusted faster. One hand on the headboard, the other had a firm grip on her neck while he gently pressed her into the mattress. Her cries became louder, needier. The sound of her core squelching, arousal leaked from her sopping hole, down her to ass and onto the sheets. Seonghwa’s face hovered a few inches above hers. He instructed her to open her mouth, and she gladly obliged. A sliver of spit hung from his lips, and she reached for it with her tongue, quenching a longstanding thirst.

“Mr. Park, please, faster! Faster!”

“That’s it, bunny. Daddy’s gonna fill you up real good...”

His hips bucked when he felt her clamp around him. Both his hands on the headboard, her back arched and head buried in the pillows, they were both approaching the finish line. As she was about to crest, she called out his first name, an anomaly to both. The squelching became deafly loud as she came all over him. Her body convulsed, a slow-growing pain in her hips become more evident, longer she was restrained. Meanwhile, Seonghwa welcomed his own orgasm. His cock twitched erratically inside of her, spraying his seed in every crevice of her warmth.

He collapsed on her chest, leaving trails of wet kisses on her collarbone. The taste of sweat lingered on his tongue. He decorated her neck with numerous hickeys before removing her restraints. Without a second to waste, she was out like a light, and her soft snores filled the room. He switched off all the lights in the room before laying beside her and fell into a slumber of his own.

[ . . . ]

At around 23:00, her eyes fluttered open, the room was coated in darkness with not even a sliver of moonlight to illuminate. When she turned to her side, there laid Seonghwa, hair spread all over his face, and chest rising and falling. Her throat was so dry, it felt as though somebody stuffed it with cotton. Body ached at every joint and limb. But she was particularly sore down there. Careful not wake him, she slipped out of bed. Drowsy and head throbbing, she stumbled but held onto the bedside drawer for balance. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she tiptoed around the bed and put on her clothes. She took her heels in one hand and her purse in the other, then her phone vibrated. A thread of text messages and missed phone calls.

Sujin: held up at work? [18:01]

Sujin: HEEELLLOOOOO??? [18:27]

Sujin: GIRL WHERE TF ARE YOU? ARE YOU MAD AT ME? :( [18:45]

Wooyoung: You running late? [19:15]

Wooyoung: If you didn’t wanna go out, you should’ve told me so. [19:49]

Wooyoung: You could at least explain yourself… [20:37]

Sujin: i’m getting worried. where are you? [23:48]

She continued to tiptoe to the door, sneaking glances of a sleeping Seonghwa. The door would not budge when she pulled down the handle. A cold wave blanketed her when she realised it was locked. She searched the glass table for the keys but found nothing. Seonghwa’s trousers splayed across the floor, and so she checked the pockets. Something jingled, and a sense of relief blanketed her. Her hand reached into the pocket and–

“What do you think you’re doing?” Seonghwa’s voice cut through the silence, groggy and still heavy with sleep.

Quietly removing the keys from the pocket, he dropped his trousers to the floor. “I- I, uh, need to get home. S-Sujin’s been texting…”

He got up from the bed, and stood before her, uncovered. “My daughter can take care of herself. Keys on the table, now.” She reluctantly obliged. “Good, now take off your clothes.”

As the tears loomed and ran free on her cheeks, she wished her heart would quiet down, afraid Seonghwa could hear it. She tried sorting through her emotions as she removed all of her clothes, but it was a mélange of fear, anticipation and guilt, and an unconfirmed tinge of excitement. At last, nude, he dipped down to press a kiss on her lips while his hands travelled down to grab the back of her thighs. The kiss held a salty taste from her tears. He hoisted her up and carried her to the bed. No more resistance. Instead, she succumbed to her fate. Her mind retreated in a subspace devoid of guilt, only open to pleasure brought on by obedience. Her soft moans filled the room as she relentlessly begged for him to never stop.

.

.

.

taglist babies:

@nopension

[bethanydelleman]

One criticism of Jane Austen is that she ignored the lower classes. I find this kind of dumb on multiple levels, primarily because not every work of fiction or social criticism needs to include every single social ill, but also because she does talk about servants/the lower classes quite a bit more than people realize and what she says is important.

The overall theme: kindness to servants/the lower classes/the poor is a very important mark of character.

We all know that Elizabeth Bennet changed her mind about Mr. Darcy after hearing a positive character reference from his housekeeper, but that is just one example of many. The Dashwood girls are better employers than John & Fanny since they easily find servants to move across the country with them: Her wisdom too limited the number of their servants to three; two maids and a man, with whom they were speedily provided from amongst those who had formed their establishment at Norland. Also, servants tended to brag about having wealthy employers, these three servants wanted both a far away and a less prestigious job. John & Fanny were really that bad!

Another mark against General Tilney's character is that he gets irrationally angry at/scares servants:

To such anxious attention was the General’s civility carried, that not aware of her extraordinary swiftness in entering the house, he was quite angry with the servant whose neglect had reduced her to open the door of the apartment herself. “What did William mean by it? He should make a point of inquiring into the matter.” And if Catherine had not most warmly asserted his innocence, it seemed likely that William would lose the favour of his master forever, if not his place, by her rapidity.

“Why! How can you ask the question? Because no time is to be lost in frightening my old housekeeper out of her wits, because I must go and prepare a dinner for you, to be sure.” (Henry, on his father coming to his house for a visit. This may be half a joke, but General Tilney is very critical of the meal)

Mrs. Ferrars's character is made quite plain in this complaint about paying annuities (basically a pension here) to some of her husband's old servants:

I have known a great deal of the trouble of annuities; for my mother was clogged with the payment of three to old superannuated servants by my father’s will, and it is amazing how disagreeable she found it. Twice every year these annuities were to be paid; and then there was the trouble of getting it to them; and then one of them was said to have died, and afterwards it turned out to be no such thing. My mother was quite sick of it. Her income was not her own, she said, with such perpetual claims on it; and it was the more unkind in my father, because, otherwise, the money would have been entirely at my mother’s disposal, without any restriction whatever.

Mrs. Ferrars is loaded, and she begrudges paying a few pounds to 3 servants. She is greedy and ungrateful.

Mrs. Norris's treatment of the servants is similar to her treatment of Fanny. It shows the depth of her miserliness (how much could one boy really eat?) and also cruelty:

"I had been looking about me in the poultry-yard, and was just coming out, when who should I see but Dick Jackson making up to the servants’ hall-door with two bits of deal board in his hand, bringing them to father, you may be sure; mother had chanced to send him of a message to father, and then father had bid him bring up them two bits of board, for he could not no how do without them. I knew what all this meant, for the servants’ dinner-bell was ringing at the very moment over our heads; and as I hate such encroaching people (the Jacksons are very encroaching, I have always said so: just the sort of people to get all they can), I said to the boy directly (a great lubberly fellow of ten years old, you know, who ought to be ashamed of himself), ‘I’ll take the boards to your father, Dick, so get you home again as fast as you can.’ The boy looked very silly, and turned away without offering a word, for I believe I might speak pretty sharp; and I dare say it will cure him of coming marauding about the house for one while. I hate such greediness—so good as your father is to the family, employing the man all the year round!”

It also highlights her hypocrisy, as Mrs. Norris has moved in during the play to help with the preparations, so she is getting free meals all week but she won't let this kid eat when he's helping his father (who is building the stage for the play)

Mr. Knightley considers the common people of Highbury before moving a path, even though he likely owns all of the land and can do whatever he wants:

"But John, as to what I was telling you of my idea of moving the path to Langham, of turning it more to the right that it may not cut through the home meadows, I cannot conceive any difficulty. I should not attempt it, if it were to be the means of inconvenience to the Highbury people, but if you call to mind exactly the present line of the path"

The kind Musgroves, who have given their nursemaid a retirement plan instead of turning her out:

A chaise was sent for from Crewkherne, and Charles conveyed back a far more useful person in the old nursery-maid of the family, one who having brought up all the children, and seen the very last, the lingering and long-petted Master Harry, sent to school after his brothers, was now living in her deserted nursery to mend stockings and dress all the blains and bruises she could get near her, and who, consequently, was only too happy in being allowed to go and help nurse dear Miss Louisa.

And who clearly are rewarded for this kindness.

Anne Elliot showing kindness to Mrs. Smith, who has nearly fallen right out of the gentry, vs. her fathers disdain for charity:

“Westgate Buildings!” said he, “and who is Miss Anne Elliot to be visiting in Westgate Buildings? A Mrs Smith. A widow Mrs Smith; and who was her husband? One of five thousand Mr Smiths whose names are to be met with everywhere. And what is her attraction? That she is old and sickly. Upon my word, Miss Anne Elliot, you have the most extraordinary taste! Everything that revolts other people, low company, paltry rooms, foul air, disgusting associations are inviting to you. But surely you may put off this old lady till to-morrow: she is not so near her end, I presume, but that she may hope to see another day. What is her age? Forty?”

Added to Sir Walter and Elizabeth's idea to cut expenses:

“Can we retrench? Does it occur to you that there is any one article in which we can retrench?” and Elizabeth, to do her justice, had, in the first ardour of female alarm, set seriously to think what could be done, and had finally proposed these two branches of economy, to cut off some unnecessary charities, and to refrain from new furnishing the drawing-room; to which expedients she afterwards added the happy thought of their taking no present down to Anne, as had been the usual yearly custom."

Vs. how the Crofts treat the poor:

She could have said more on the subject; for she had in fact so high an opinion of the Crofts, and considered her father so very fortunate in his tenants, felt the parish to be so sure of a good example, and the poor of the best attention and relief, that however sorry and ashamed for the necessity of the removal, she could not but in conscience feel that they were gone who deserved not to stay, and that Kellynch Hall had passed into better hands than its owners’.

Henry Crawford's moral fall begins with ignoring the needs of his tenants:

"I have half an idea of going into Norfolk again soon. I am not satisfied about Maddison. I am sure he still means to impose on me if possible, and get a cousin of his own into a certain mill, which I design for somebody else. I must come to an understanding with him. I must make him know that I will not be tricked on the south side of Everingham, any more than on the north: that I will be master of my own property... I have a great mind to go back into Norfolk directly, and put everything at once on such a footing as cannot be afterwards swerved from. Maddison is a clever fellow; I do not wish to displace him, provided he does not try to displace me; but it would be simple to be duped by a man who has no right of creditor to dupe me, and worse than simple to let him give me a hard-hearted, griping fellow for a tenant, instead of an honest man, to whom I have given half a promise already. Would it not be worse than simple? Shall I go? Do you advise it?”

Of course, Henry does not go to Everginham, as he knows is right, but instead goes to the party in London, where he again runs into Maria...

Yes, Austen didn't write servants/the lower classes as full characters in general, they are in the background and around the edges of the scenes, but over and over, we can sort characters into moral and immoral by their treatment of those less fortunate around them.

[dalliancekay]

Aziraphale, misogyny and the female character treatment

I don't know if anyone wrote a post about this but I see from time to time comments to this end - that Aziraphale is treated like the female leads in films often are, obviously especially romantic films. So I'm gonna try to point how I see this. I welcome further insights of course.

Say we take a basic premise of a romantic film: A girl is wooed by a bad boy for example. And she is a good girl, from a good, proper family and everything so she refuses his advances. This goes on through his various ploys to entertain and romance her, do things for her etc etc and frustrates us as the audience because we can see the bad boy is actually good, her family is oppressive and holding her back and that she (deep down) cares for him (if only she was brave enough to admit it to herself) and so we want her to open her eyes and say she is actually in love with him cos her life will be so much better should she (finally) give in and run away with him.

Familiar? Reasons Aziraphale is not her and the analogy does not fit (but that I so often see in metas and takes about her):

Aziraphale always knew her family is shit. Or at least longer than Crowley did. She was already anxious in Before the Beginning about what she thought Angel!Crowley could and could not say or do without getting into trouble.

She knows Crowley is good. She never doubted him. Whatever he says or does or pretends to do or must do for his job. Aziraphale knows he's inherently good and would always do good if he can.

She knows she's in love - I mean we can argue about when each realised this and also when each realised the other loves them back just as fiercely, but they both know. And they both love. And they both long to be together. Aziraphale is not ashamed of her feelings nor hiding or suppressing them for fear they are wrong or immoral or other BS like that.

Aziraphale doesn't need to overcome her love for her family/employer and finally make the leap to be with Crowley. They simply can't leave their bosses without punishment. Neither of them. They live in a dictatorship with nowhere to go. And just because Crowley experienced both sides, doesn't give him some huge insight that Aziraphale completely lacks. Both places are awful. Their separation isn’t about fear of societal judgment (or Aziraphale's unwillingness to give up Heaven, being seen as good, being an angel - and to what end, to Fall? I really don't know what takes like this want from her, it would not work anyway), it’s about survival in a system that won’t let them be together.

Aziraphale doesn't want to change Crowley. She never did. She asked for Crowley to come to Heaven as an angel because that was THE ONLY option she had for them to be together in any capacity at that point. It was NOT an attempt to “fix” him—it was a desperate bid for a way they could be together at all.

One thing I don't see as much anymore is the call for Aziraphale to change. Obviously she's pretty but she would be prettier if she lost those century old clothes maybe and started listening to something made after 1950? Be more cool to match Crowley? Less stuffy?

These kind of film premises are already pointless, offensive and make me roll my eyes, but to stick them all over Aziraphale and huff cos she doesn't do what the clever sexy man in dark clothes and sunglasses says she should - well that makes me angry.

And so do takes and mischaracterisations that ignore Aziraphale as silly, her worries as pointless, sometimes excessive - maybe she's just hysterical, you know? The one time she shows more emotion, in F15, she is so often completely ignored in her obvious distress just because Crowley is trying to confess his love at the same time and seemingly 'not getting through,' because Aziraphale is not reacting the way everyone expects. So many takes that always assume Crowley is right, no matter what. Even when he calls Aziraphale an idiot. If Crowley says that, it must be true. No matter that the book spells out in Terry's voice that the angel is extremely clever.

Aziraphale’s charm lies in her kindness, her love for books and knowledge, her whimsy, and her quiet courage. These qualities don’t make her naive—they make her resilient. She often hides how she truly feels, hides her grief, her pain, her true desires, hides what she really thinks; always always to protect herself and her beloved. She is often forced to say stuff she doesn't mean. Again. To keep the one she loves and their fragile relationship safe. But where people seem to catch on with that on Crowley's side, they don't with Aziraphale. She is fierce when pushed and will defend the defenceless (humans) and the ones she loves (Crowley) to her last breath (whether she needs to breathe is irrelevant right now okay).

She loves her bookshop. She built this home, full of knowledge for herself and her demon and you can take this HC from my cold hands. That she was forced to leave it, only emphasises how little choice she had in Final 15. Good Omens has two main, equal characters; who are both gorgeous and complex and deep and neither is right or wrong or in need of saving or learning some huge lesson to get to their goal and be together. What needs to change is the world, the system they live in. And they will change it. P.S. Just to add, many, many (if not all) bad takes on Aziraphale are also bad takes on Crowley. They mischaracterise and misunderstand just how deeply and unconditionally he loves Aziraphale. How he adores her and understands and accepts her just as she is. He does not expect or want Aziraphale to change in any way. He knows why they are not together. And it's not Aziraphale's fault, it's because of circumstances, not because of her choices. Crowley would never ever want Aziraphale to suffer, he wouldn't expect her to come back from Heaven saying how sorry she is for what happened, how stupid and blind she was and how he was always right. That's just not going to happen. ------------------------------------------ @tenok I simply must highlight the awesomeness you put in hashtags!! EVERYBODY please read:

Thank you sm for this!!

[iamnotoriginalphil]

I Dwell in Possibility (Casey Novak x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Your aunt Liz warns you to stay away from her ADA. Too bad for her, you'd never been good at doing what you're told.

Words: 9.3k

Warnings: Forbidden romance, reciting poetry, oral (R giving), hickeys, swearing, possessiveness, alcohol consumption, secret relationship, strap (R receiving), dirty talk, angst, hurt/comfort

“You’re not my aunt.”

The woman looking up at you from the low sofa was not the one you were expecting. Strawberry blonde hair shining in the overhead light, fierce green eyes, full pink lips, she was the kind of woman that would devastate your heart with so little effort. Leaning your hip on the doorway, you checked the door again, certain you were in the right place. It was just like you remembered from all the hours you’d spent staying out of trouble under the watchful gaze of your aunt during your more rebellious years as a teenager.

“Not last time I checked,” the mystery woman said.

Her eyes swept over you, assessing in a way that made your nerves vibrate. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, letting her look her fill, hoping you’d pass muster. You didn’t even know her name, and yet you wanted this woman’s approval.

“I didn’t realise Judge Donnelly had a niece,” she said, her voice a low timbre.

“I have two, and don’t even think about it.”

You whirled, finding your aunt standing behind you, the kind of look that once had you quaking in your boots on her face. Instead, your face split into a huge grin. Her face softened upon seeing you, not in a way most people would notice, but she’d been your favourite person by the time you’d graduated high school and moved away for college. She was the only reason you’d managed to get in somewhere decent. Somehow, despite all your raging against The Man, she’d kept you on track. Your sister had never understood your relationship with her, being one of the people who quaked under her gaze.

“Guess who’s back,” you said, giving her some nice jazz hands to drive your point home.

“No wonder the amount of the trouble in the city has increased,” she said.

“You missed me. Just admit it,” you said, knowing you were being the kind of cheeky that could get you told off.

She sighed but her embrace was tight. You closed your eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of her perfume. You’d missed it more than you could possibly put into words.

“So you finally finished grad school,” she said once you’d drawn away.

“I’m a bonafide doctor now. No way you can go around telling everyone I’m your wayward niece. You can just admit I’m your favourite without shame,” you said.

“And you’re a doctor in what?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Something very interesting and not at all practical, just like God intended,” you said.

She shook her head but you saw the way her lips curled up into a smile. She finally entered her office, you trailing after her. The woman, still an unknown, had been watching with a rapt attention that kept making your skin prickle. Your eyes darted down to her, teeth sinking into your lower lip again.

“Please tell me you haven’t returned to the city looking for a hand out,” your aunt said as she sat in her chair behind her imposing desk.

“I’ll have you know I have actual employment like a productive member of society,” you said.

She scoffed but it was the fond kind, not the kind that said you were in danger. You were achingly familiar with both.

“No, seriously. My supervisor knew a guy in the English department at NYU and put in a good word for me,” you said, “I’m teaching intro to the Romantics this year.”

“A worthwhile endeavour I’m sure,” she said.

“Hey, critical thinking is an important skill. Plus, reciting poetry always goes down well when trying to score a date,” you said, falling back on the couch. Only as your arm brushed hers did you remember someone was already occupying it.

“Tell me you didn’t spend all those years at college just to pick up women,” she said with an eye roll.

“That wasn’t the only reason. It was just an added benefit.” You winked at the woman sitting next to you, lips pulling up into a smirk.

“Get out,” your aunt said.

Your eyes shot back over to her but she was looking at the woman beside you.

“You asked me to come see you,” she said.

“Later,” she said.

She stared at your aunt for a moment before she collected up her papers back into the file they’d originally come from. You watched her leave, appreciating the pencil skirt she was in.

“Who was that?” you asked once the door was closed and you knew she wouldn’t hear you.

“ADA Casey Novak and if she knows what’s good for her she’ll stay away from you,” she replied.

“Aw, are you getting all protective, Aunty Liz? You’ll be putting Dad out of a job,” you said.

“Oh, I’m trying to protect her. You’re a hurricane of trouble,” she said.

“Maybe I’ve grown up. It has been a while since I’ve lived here,” you said.

“Stay away from my ADA,” she said, using her commanding voice.

She should have known better. You’d always wanted what you weren’t allowed. And you wanted Casey Novak.

Over the next few weeks you were around your aunt’s office a lot more, traversing the halls as you reacquainted yourself with the building. Keeping your eye out for a certain strawberry blonde, you’d wander around as you waited for your new job to start. Your aunt, doing her best to ignore what you were doing, put up with your impromptu visits with grace.

Sitting in on one of her trials, you found yourself coming face to face with Casey Novak again. Or rather, you could lean back and watch her dominate in the court room. It sent a flutter through your body and an itch in your fingers to sink into her. She was magnificent, a sight to behold, a lion taking down her prey with a precision that was breathtaking.

And from her pursed lips, your aunt was not happy about your presence there to see such a display.

“What are you doing here?” she asked after calling a five minute recess.

“I came to see you in action. I like watching you scare the little people,” you replied, “tell me, I’ve always wanted to know, do you practice that scowl in the mirror or does it come naturally to you?”

“You don’t care about my scowls. You couldn’t keep your eyes off a certain ADA I warned you to stay away from,” she replied.

“Aw, you do care,” you said, “you seriously think I’m going to ruin your ADA?”

Something interesting settled in her face, arms crossed over her chest. You sighed, looking away from her.

“If it means that much to you, Aunty Liz, I won’t do anything with her,” you said, knowing that giving up one gorgeous woman was the least you could do for the woman who kept you from making all the wrong decisions with your life.

She gave you a small smile, one of the fonds one that let you knew you’d made the right decision. It was the kind she gave you any time you came back with an A on a test she’d helped you study for. You sighed.

“But you owe me one. She is insanely hot,” you said, but you were smiling and the sting wasn’t so bad when it was your decision to follow the rules.

You left the courthouse, knowing you had prep work to do before the semester started. No more stalking the halls hoping to run into Casey Novak by “coincidence” and strike up a conversation that might end in her bed. She was just another gorgeous woman who would remain a ‘what if’.

It was easy to push thoughts of her to the side in the flurry of semester beginning. You couldn’t believe how much work went into teaching a college course, your sympathy going out to every professor you’d ever had. Especially those teaching your intro classes, when freshmen came in with all the confidence they hadn’t earned.

“When did becoming devil’s advocate become the cool thing for boys to do?” you asked.

Your aunt looked up at you from over the rim of her glasses, looking less than impressed with your question. You sighed, slumping back against her sofa. On one of the few days you weren’t teaching, you’d sought refuge in the only place you knew would offer you both a slap over the head and a warm hug. Using the pretence of lunch, you’d brought her food and your frustration.

“Okay, sure, they’ve always kind of been like that but now I have to hold my tongue and not go off on how stupid they are,” you complained.

“Yes, because now you’re the adult in the room,” she replied with all the judgement held in her body in her voice.

“How do you manage it?” you asked, looking at her again, “I’ve seen some of your cases. You’ve dealt with some real…”

You couldn’t find the right word.

“Assholes?”

You turned, finding the only woman in the city you were forbidden from even thinking about standing in the doorway. Your aunt’s eyes darted to yours then back to Casey Novak and you saw the warning there.

“You said it, not me,” you said with a small laugh.

The way she stepped into the room had you forcing yourself to look away. Her hips were swaying with a cockiness you’d attempted to pull off plenty of times and had never quite managed. If you kept staring you might never stop.

“Did you need something, Casey?” your aunt asked.

“The Jensen case,” she replied.

“I’ll get out of your hair,” you said, standing, collecting up your rubbish.

Your shoulder brushed Casey Novak’s as you passed her, a jolt of electricity going through you. Your gaze caught on hers as you passed and you felt your breath still.

It was a good thing you loved your aunt so much or else you’d be in trouble.

Taking yourself out for coffee was becoming one of your Saturday traditions. A worn paperback in your hands and a corner table with your caffeine fix and some kind of pastry was easily becoming your favourite part of your week. It was early enough in your weekend that you didn’t feel guilty for not having started on any of the work you still had to get done for Monday morning. You could relax, taking time for yourself.

“Is this seat taken?”

You glanced up, expecting someone looking to steal the other seat and take it to their table. Instead, green eyes were looking down at you, pretty pink lips curling up into a half smile. Casey Novak, in jeans and a t-shirt, hair pulled back, was standing before you in the morning light, looking like a dream come to life.

“Not at all,” you said.

She sat, legs spreading just enough to make you wonder if she was doing it on purpose. Leaning back in the chair, her eyes slid over you, leaving fire in their wake. You took a slow slip from your coffee, tongue dragging over your lower lip as you put the cup down.

“Is there something I can do for you, ADA Casey Novak?” you asked when her gaze darkened.

“You can start by just calling me Casey,” she said.

She thanked the waiter as he placed a coffee in front of her. You watched her take her first sip, her eyes closing in bliss. She placed the cup down again, turning that burning gaze on you.

“So what do you want, Casey?” you asked.

“Knowing your name would be a start,” she said.

The way it sounded on her lips as she repeated it made you shiver. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip again and you saw her focus on it, leaning forward slightly. The heat that went through you was searing and the throb was insistent, keeping time with your racing heart.

This was dangerous.

“Judge Donnelly is very determined to keep us from running into one another,” she said, a soft hum of a voice.

“So you thought you’d hunt me down to see what all the fuss is about?” you asked.

“Call it a happy coincidence. I was passing by, you happened to be here, no planning involved,” she said, “so your aunt can’t crucify me for taking the opportunity to say hello.”

“Do you always do what you’re told not to do?” you asked, tilting your head towards her.

“Not always. Only if it sounds fun,” she said, her smirk making your heart flutter. This felt too much like flirting.

“You’re going to get me in trouble, ADA Casey Novak,” you said, leaning away from her.

“Nothing wrong with a little trouble,” she said.

Certainly not when trouble looked like a smirking Casey Novak.

“And besides, who needs to know? I don’t see you ratting us out to Donnelly,” she said.

Her fingers brushed over the back of your hand, sending sparks up your arm. Your lips parted as your hand flipped, offering her your palm. They traced over it, the feeling of her touch burning through you. You weren’t proud of yourself for giving in so easily, but pretty women had always been your downfall.

“I promised her,” you whispered.

“We’re not doing anything. It’s just coffee,” she said, the definition of temptation.

“You’re used to getting your way, aren’t you?”

“I’m used to getting what I want,” she said and you found it intoxicating the way her eyes smouldered as they looked at you.

“I suppose she didn’t say anything about not having coffee together,” you said slowly.

Her satisfaction was obvious in the smug set of her shoulders. You laughed and something in her face brightened.

“What are you reading?” she asked, nodding down to your book as her finger continued to trace patterns into your palm.

“Frankenstein,” you said, nudging it closer to her, “I can’t read poetry every moment of every day.”

“Do you really recite it to pick up women?” she asked, picking up your old book, the spine cracked to the point it fell open in her hand.

“Thy soul was like a star and dwelt apart/thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea,” you recited to her.

You saw a flush bloom high on her cheeks, eyes sparkling as she seemed to lose whatever smart comeback she had. You grinned, hiding it behind your coffee cup, lowering your eyes in a show of false modesty. You liked seeing her a bit flustered, finding it enchanting.

“I suppose I can see the appeal,” she said eventually.

“Wordsworth has yet to fail me,” you said, fluttering your eyelashes at her.

She pushed your novel back across the table to you and then downed her coffee. Her fingers threaded through yours, palm to palm, making you feel like you were losing control of the situation already.

“Did your aunt happen to say anything about ice cream?” she asked.

You shook your head, teeth sinking into your lip again. She grinned, standing, pulling you with her.

“Then let me show you the best ice cream in the city,” she said.

Later, when she’d managed to convince you to return to her apartment with her, she tasted of danger. And trouble. And everything that could destroy you.

When you returned home early Monday morning you were buzzing. You could still feel her lips on your skin and her taste was burnt onto your tongue. Hickeys littered your body and you were deliciously sore. You still smelt like her and you wanted her perfume to linger on your skin for as long as possible.

Maybe Aunty Liz had been onto something about staying away from her.

When she called on Tuesday night you didn’t hesitate to pick up. Lying on your couch, drink in hand, you pressed the phone to your ear as her smokey voice whispered to you.

“Please tell me your day was better than mine,” she requested without even a hello.

“I suppose that depends on how your day was,” you said.

“My case got thrown out,” she said.

“That sucks. Sorry,” you said, “I had a student tell me that only men know how to write romantic poetry.”

“Do you write poetry?” she asked.

“Only of middling talent,” you replied, “nothing worth repeating.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. You are a doctor after all,” she said with a small laugh.

“That brag was for my aunt, not for you,” you replied but you were chuckling too.

“Lucky me for being in the room,” she said.

A knock sounded on your door.

“Hang on,” you said, standing up with a groan.

Pulling the door open you should have been expecting the woman on the other side of the door but you hadn’t been. Her lips pulled up into a smile and you held the door open wider for her. Her fingers brushed the back of your hand as she stepped inside.

“I’m going to have to call you back,” you said into the phone, “a devastatingly sexy woman just arrived.”

She tossed her cell phone on the couch with a laugh. Your hands landed on her hips, pushing her back until you had her pinned to the wall. Her hands cupping your cheeks dragged you up onto your toes to kiss her, long and slow and deep. She hummed into the kiss, the vibrations going through you.

“Make me forget my day,” she requested when you finally pulled away.

You dragged her to your room, more than happy to oblige. You lowered her onto the bed, crawling up her body. Your hands were seeking her skin, pushing up under the skintight turtleneck she had on. Just the sight of it was driving you crazy, remembering the feeling of her curves in her hands. You kissed her again, not able to stop yourself.

She sighed when you pulled her shirt over her head, your hands finding home on her skin. Your thumb brushed over her ribcage from your hand’s place on her waist. Your lips ghosted down her body, feeling her tremble.

“There witching beauty greets the ravished sight/more gentle than the arbitress night,” you whispered into her skin.

She made such a soft noise, one that suggested her chest was caving in. You brushed your lips over the curve of her breast, enjoying the way her breathy moan spurred you on. Wrapping your lips around one peaked nipple, you laved attention on her. She arched into your, fingers winding though your hair. As you sucked, your name fell like a curse from her lips.

Your fingers were quick as they unbuttoned her slacks. Slipping your hand into her panties, you stroked through her folds. Her hips pressed up against your hand, wordlessly begging for more. You kissed across to the other breast, finding the yellowing hickey you’d left only a few days ago. With your tongue, you circled her other hardening nipple, teeth grazing over it for a moment.

“You’re so good at that,” she groaned, fingers tightening in your hair.

You grinned against her as you finger found her clit. Her breathy sigh was gratifying in ways you couldn’t put into words. Slowly, you kissed down her chest, hand slipping from her panties as you grasped her hips. You dragged her slacks down long legs you still remembered curling around you on the weekend.

“You’re so beautiful,” you said, looking up her body.

Your mouth made contact with her throbbing cunt. Keeping a tight hold on her hips, you pressed closer, tongue sweeping through her folds. You moaned at her taste, still addicted to it, the novelty of having her like this not yet having worn off. Staring up your body, you watched as her eyes squeezed closed, fingers fisting in your comforter.

Your tongue dipped into her entrance and a shaky curse fell from her lips. She was so beautiful as her face contorted with pleasure. Wrapping your lips around her bundle of nerves, you suckled as she whimpered above you. You held her in place, refusing to let her use you the way she wanted. You were going to take care of her.

Lifting her legs over your shoulders, you pressed her into the mattress. You couldn’t get enough of her, wanting to spend hours with her doing this. When she came, it was with your name on her lips, the sound of it going right through you.

You were slow to kiss back up her body, finding her lips waiting for you. She kissed you with an enthusiasm that had you groaning. Flipping you, she gazed down at you, lips pulling up into a smirk that was growing familiar.

“You’re entirely too clothed,” she murmured.

“You’d better do something about that then,” you said.

The next morning you woke with her arm flung around your waist and her face buried in your neck. It wasn’t a conscious decision to begin running your fingers through her hair, but when she pressed closer with a soft sigh you didn’t feel the need to stop. You closed your eyes again, nose burying in her hair, breathing in the scent of her perfume again.

“I need to get up,” she mumbled, lips brushing your skin.

“Don’t,” you whispered, “stay.”

“I can’t,” she said, “I need to go fight for my case to be reinstated.”

“You can do that?” you asked.

“If the detectives have found new evidence,” she replied, slow to sit up.

Your eyes tracked over the swathes of skin on display, feeling your mouth water. Something about Casey was addictive to you, making you desperate for more even after hours spent indulging in her body the night before.

“So committed,” you murmured, fingers tracing down her spine, “that’s pretty fucking hot.”

She turned, looking over her shoulder at you. Dark eyes swept over your body, half exposed from where the covers had pooled around her hips. You arched your back, offering more to her gaze.

“And if I win and this rapist goes behind bars, I’ll come back to celebrate with you,” she said.

“Promise?” You tried to smoulder, the way she did that made you feel electric.

She smiled, leaning own to press her lips to yours.

“Promise,” she whispered against your mouth.

She called you by the end of the week. You dressed up all pretty, in a nice dress and a nice pair of heels, hoping to make her head spin the ways yours always did. Meeting her at the restaurant, your breath caught at the sight of the smile she gave you. Then it moved double time as an appreciative look came into her eye.

“If this is what I get for winning a case, I think my conviction rate will go up,” she said, gaze slow to move down your body and then up again before meeting your eye, “you look breathtaking.”

You took her in, the silk dress clinging to her curves, her hair swept up in an elegant undo. Green was certainly her colour. Reaching out, your finger ran along the chain of the necklace she was wearing, watching the way a flush rose to her cheeks.

“You shouldn’t be allowed out like this,” you murmured.

“You don’t like how I look tonight?” she asked.

“I like it entirely too much,” you said, finger stopping at the base of her throat, “the things I want to do to you…”

“There’ll be plenty of time for that later,” she chuckled, “patience, sweetheart.”

“I can be patient,” you replied.

“I suppose we’ll see, won’t we?”

Seated across from her, it was hard to look away. Her foot brushed your calf, sending a jolt through you. The way she was looking at you over her menu suggested you were what she was hoping to devour. You’d let her.

Placing your order, she took you through the trail, her voice soothing where the details were traumatic. Her foot kept bumping against yours under the table and each time her lips would quirk up. You found yourself leaning towards her, not able to stop yourself. Her gravity seemed only to affect you.

“But you didn’t ask for a blow by blow of the case,” she said, shaking her head after the food was placed down in front of you.

“I like listening to you,” you said.

“You do?” she asked, a surprise look crossing her face.

“Is that really so surprising?” Your fingertips brushed the back of her hand before retracting, “you have a way with words and the kind of voice I could listen to for hours.”

Something broke over her face, cracking open into a look of wonder. Your breath caught, not sure what to do with such a lovely expression on such a beautiful face. It was baffling that you could bring that out in someone like her.

“I’m beginning to see why your aunt wanted to keep us apart,” she said.

“What do you mean?” That was not what you were expecting to say.

“She knew I’d never let you go once I had you,” she said.

Your face softened into a smile. Reaching across the table, you threaded your fingers through hers, enjoying the feel of skin against skin. Her fingers tightened around yours, squeezing for a moment before she released you, beginning to eat.

“And here I was thinking the poetry was the way to seduce you, not the compliments,” you said, picking up your own fork, “might have to switch tracks if I want to keep you around.”

“I like the poetry,” she said, eyes darting up to you.

“And if I was reciting it to someone else…?” you prompted, wondering what was going through her head.

“Are you?” she asked, her gaze sharpening.

“Would it matter if I was?” you asked in response.

“I don’t like to share,” she said, her voice lowering, making you press your thighs together.

You took a slow sip from the wine she’d ordered. Her eyes darkened, lips pursing in a way that suggested you might be in trouble.

“So tell me, sweetheart, have you been reciting your poetry to someone else?” she asked.

“Not recently,” you said.

“How long?” she asked, and you were worried you were walking a razor edge with her.

“A few months,” you replied.

“What happened a few months ago?” she asked but you saw her lips begin to curl up into a small smile.

“I met a beautiful ADA and despite trying to be good, she was very convincing in tempting me to be naughty,” you replied.

She lent forward, her hand finding yours again. Tugging it up, her lips pressed a lingering kiss to your skin, making your breath catch. Your foot bumped hers under the table.

“Do you regret it?” she asked.

“I’m not sure I could ever regret you, Casey Novak,” you replied.

“So you don’t want to stop?” she asked.

“When Aunty Liz finds out, we’ll deal with the fallout then,” you said.

“When?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“If you’re planning on never letting me go, it’ll have to come out eventually. We can’t keep it a secret forever,” you said.

“Eventually.” Her lips pressed to the back of your hand again, “but for now I want to keep you all to myself.”

The thought was pleasing. You held her gaze for a long moment, the weight of it all crashing into you. Your heart thumped in your chest, tripping over itself. You saw possibilities sparkling in her eyes, and the potential future you could build spiralling out before you.

“Who from the cup of amorous delight/dashes the sparkling draught of brilliant delight,” you murmured before taking a sip from your glass of wine. The way she looked at you was like you were something from out of space, beautiful and wonderful and completely unknowable. It was a heady mix.

She didn’t let you return home all weekend.

You slipped back into the monotony of your work come Monday, working through what you should have done on the weekend. It had been easy to forget the stack of papers you had to mark when her mouth was on you and you were gasping her name. It should have scared you, how easy it was to lose yourself in her, but you’d known the first time you’d seen her that she could render you into nothing. You welcomed it.

On Wednesday morning, when a note was sitting on your desk, you rolled your eyes. Curt, to the point, three words that gave you all you needed to know. You put it aside, booting up your computer.

Your aunt didn’t bother standing as you slid into the chair across from her. The food in front of you was what you’d always ordered, your favourite thing on the menu. Especially when she was buying.

“You summoned?” you said, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I haven’t heard from you in a while. I was worried you’d gotten yourself into trouble,” she said.

“I don’t remember you being my parol officer,” you said, taking a bite of your lunch.

“Nothing you feel the need to tell me?” she asked.

“How about you just tell me what’s on your mind and then I can tell you. Or not, depending what it is,” you said with a wicked grin and a small shrug.

“You always go to work with a hickey on your neck?” she asked.

“Only if I had fun the night before,” you said, which you had.

“Do I want to know?” she asked.

“Are you asking for details about my sex life, Aunty Liz?” you shot back.

“Please, I’m trying to eat,” she said, indicating her soup.

“Don’t ask if you don’t want to know,” you said, “so why did you really ask me for lunch?”

“It’s my duty to check in on you. If not, who knows what kind of trouble you’ll get into,” she said.

“Don’t pretend, I know you care. You worry about me.”

She didn’t answer but you knew the truth.

“Are you going to tell me about the girl who’s giving you fun nights?” she asked after a moment of silence.

“Eventually, I’m sure,” you said with a small shrug, knowing you couldn’t tell her, “all you need to know is right now I’m very happy.”

“Clearly.” Her gaze lingered on the hickey you hadn’t bothered covering up that morning, “you know, you’re not the only one who’s coming to work looking less than presentable.”

“You got something to tell me, Aunty Liz?” you poked, trying not to grin at her like a menace. Her beleaguered sigh only made your grin grow.

“ADA Novak has worn the same outfit twice in a row more than once over the last few weeks. Right around the time you stopped calling me incessantly,” she said.

“Lucky girl,” you said.

“And you know nothing about it?” she asked.

“I made you a promise,” you said.

“So it’s just a coincidence?” Her penetrating gaze made you shift in your seat. You’d never been good at lying to her.

“Seems like it.” You looked down at your food, “it’s not a shock two hot women happen to both be getting laid.”

“Okay, you can stop.”

“Good because neither of us is enjoying this,” you said.

She was more than happy to drop the topic. You moved on to much nicer things, like work and how your mother was repainting her kitchen much to your father’s annoyance. She had strong opinions on your sister’s latest boyfriend. You did too.

It was easier when you weren’t talking about Casey.

You started being more careful. You kept the hickeys to places you couldn’t see with your clothes on. She left early enough to get home or brought a change of clothes with her. And you made sure you were never seen anywhere your aunt might be.

Mostly, you spent time in her apartment, curled up in the bubble of the whole thing. You couldn’t understand why your aunt had been so against you seeing her. Everything about her was wonderful, and you’d never felt so sure about a decision before.

“Listen to this,” you said, looking over the top of one of the essays you were marking, “‘he made nature a woman because as everyone knows women are weak and they break under the passion of a man’s love.’ Can you believe that?”

“Yes,” she said, “you should hear some of the stuff men say to justify what they do.”

“I couldn’t do your job,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“That’s why I do it, and why you talk about poetry all day,” she said.

“Is that judgement I hear?”

You placed the essay down, crawling towards her on the couch on all fours. She lent back, watching you with the kind of look in her eye that made you want to submit to her. Her legs spread, offering you the perfect place to stop. Your hands on her knees helped you to push up, drawing closer to her.

“Do you think I don’t have a real job?” you asked, “that I’m just a silly artist who contributes nothing to society?”

“You contribute plenty,” she said, one hand gently cupping your jaw, forcing you to look up at her.

“Do I?” you asked.

“Keeping me happy makes me better at my job. You do your part in putting away all the bad guys,” she said, slow to lean towards you.

“Better make sure you’re on top form tomorrow then, hadn’t I?”

Your marking could wait.

Casey let you stay at her place when your heating went out in the middle of winter break. Curled up in her bed, book in hand, half sprawled against the headboard, you let the hours pass. The door opened and closed again. Looking up, your eyes itched and you realised it had gotten later than you’d expected.

“Hey,” you said when Casey appeared in the doorway.

She looked exhausted, the slope of her shoulders, her heavy footsteps. Your heart ached for her. Her fingers weren’t careful as she unbuttoned her blouse, dropping her slacks to the floor. You still stared every time you saw her naked body, not quite believing you were allowed to see it. She was so beautiful.

She wiggled under the covers, depositing herself on top of you. Her arms curled around your waist, cold hands pressing to your skin as the buried under your sweater. Her face was buried in your neck. With your free hand you stroked a long line down her spine before curling your arm around her waist, feeling her let out a long sigh.

“Long day?” you murmured, lips brushing against her temple.

“Don’t want to talk about it,” she replied, muffled against your neck, arms tightening around you.

“Okay,” you said

In a soft voice, you began reading your book out loud to her until her breathing began to even out. It took a while, her muscles slow to relax. You would read to her all night if it would help, whatever she needed. When she finally dropped off, you gazed down at her, finding yourself enraptured. This was the kind of moment you made sure was burned into your memory.

You ignored the way she made you feel. You pushed away the thought that you were falling for this woman. Even as you knew it was true.

The wolf whistle that passed through your lips was loud. You grinned when Casey’s steps faltered, her eyes seeking you out. She sauntered towards you, an extra swing to her hips when she found you. Leaning back against the pillar you’d been waiting against, you watched her, not even bothering to hide your appreciation.

“I thought I saw you earlier,” she said, coming to a stop in front of you.

“I had to drop something off with my aunt. Thought I’d sneak a glimpse when I got the chance,” you said.

“And?” Her head tilted to the side, crowding you against the pillar without touching you.

“And I think you’re something amazing,” you replied.

Her free hand reached out, fingers tangling with yours.

“Bit risky doing this when your aunt is just inside,” she said.

“She’s stuck in court for the next little while,” you said, “plus, it’s been months and she hasn’t brought it up again. I think we’re in the clear.”

“Lucky us,” she said.

“So can I take you to lunch?” you asked.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” she asked.

“I’m not sure I care,” you replied, then decided to pull out the big guns, “a poet could not but be gay/in such jocund company.”

Your fingertips brushed over her cheekbone.

“Fine, but you’re paying,” she said.

You took it as a win.

You gasped for breath, falling forward onto your elbows. The only sound was the slap of skin and your breathless moans. Casey’s hands were tight on your hips, leaving bruises on your skin. You pressed your hips back, your whines asking for more.

“You like that, sweetheart?” Casey asked, dragging her strap out of you.

“Uh huh,” was all you managed to say.

“Perfect little toy for my cock,” she said, slamming back into you.

You cried out as she hit that place inside of you that made you see heaven. Her name was nothing but a prayer on your lips.

“You were made for this, weren’t you?” she said, “God made you just for me to fuck.”

Her thrusts became rougher, harder, making you see stars. You were so close, feeling the wave about to crash into you. Your entire body was a live wire, every thrust making your head spin.

A loud banging on your door had Casey freezing.

“Ignore it. Whoever it is will go away,” you said, breathless and desperate.

She waited a moment for the knocking to stop before she slowly retracted from you before slowly pushing back in. Your whimper was pathetic, making her chuckle as she readjusted her hold on you.

The banging started on your door again.

Casey sighed, pulling full out of you. You growled, turning, the liquid heat in your veins calling out for more. The throbbing was unbearable. You’d been so close.

“Go handle that, sweetheart,” she said, running a hand through her hair, “then I’ll take care of you.”

You grumbled as you rose onto unsteady legs. Wrapping your robe around your naked body, you did your best to stride towards the door. Pulling it open, you were brought up short at the woman on the other side.

“Don’t tell me you were still in bed,” your aunt said.

“Okay. I won’t tell you,” you replied.

You glanced back over your shoulder, clutching your robe tighter around you.

“Are you going to invite me in?” she asked, her expectant look making you freeze.

“I wasn’t expecting you, Aunty Liz. I’m not exactly set up for company,” you replied.

“Or at least not company you have to be dressed for,” she said.

“What are you doing here?”

She pushed past you into your apartment. You were slow to close the door, hoping she’d leave, still feeling the slickness between your thighs begging you to go back to Casey and finish what you’d started. Her eyes slowly took in your place, lingering on the two cups of coffee on your counter.

“Am I finally going to meet your mystery woman?” she asked, turning to look at you.

“No,” you said, “did you need something or were just hoping to cock block me?”

“You’ve been dodging your mother’s calls. Call her back so she stops bugging me,” she said.

“Sorry. She just won’t shut up about redoing the living room and there’s only so long I can discuss the merits of eggshell vs seashell,” you said, running your fingers through your messy hair.

“Just call her,” she said, “I’d like not to repeat this experience.”

“That makes two of us,” you muttered.

The bedroom door was pulled open and your heart stopped in your chest. Both you and your aunt were slow to turn to the figure that had frozen in the doorway. Casey, wrapped in a sheet, cheeks still flushed and eyes wide, was staring back.

“Uh… it’s not what it looks like?” you tried when you got your voice back.

The look she gave you was withering. You shrunk under it, knowing the game was up. There was no talking your way out of this. Her jaw clenched and the tension in her body was enough to snap.

“I believe you gave me a promise,” she said, voice cold enough to give you hypothermia.

“I’m sorry,” you said, voice shrinking under her glare, “it just kind of… happened.”

“And when I asked you about it, you lied right to my face,” she said.

“What was I meant to do? You were so determined I should have nothing to do with her. An opinion I don’t understand and certainly don’t share,” you said, knowing you were sounding like the petulant teenager who had been dumped on her all those years ago.

“You don’t have to share my opinion but you gave me your word,” she said.

“Don’t blame her,” Casey said, finally stepping into the room properly, “I started this.”

“You also gave me your word,” she said, turning on her, eyes flashing dangerously.

“That’d ridiculous. You can have a say in my personal life but one of your ADAs? Seriously, Aunt Liz?” you demanded, “that’s gotta be some kind of abuse of power.”

“Don’t start,” she snapped.

“It’s fine,” Casey said to you.

“No. It’s totally an infringement on your rights. She can’t ask that of you,” you said.

“Sweetheart, she didn’t ask me as my boss,” she said.

“Fine, then I’ll be angry about it on my behalf. You can ask me but not other people,” you said, rounding on your aunt.

“Did you ever think that maybe I had good reason for telling you to stay away from her?” your aunt asked.

“So why did you?” you asked.

Her eyes flicked to Casey who was looking between the two of you like she was desperate to leave this situation. You shook your head, turning away from her.

“It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done and unfortunately for you we’re happy together. I think it’s time for you to leave,” you said, gesturing back towards the door, “I’ll talk to Mom.”

You didn’t bother looking at her as she left your apartment, the door loud in the silence left in her wake. Your stomach was unsettled, a toxic mix of anxiety and anger, and all you could do was stare at Casey. The color had drained from her face and there was nothing you could do.

“Kind of a mood killer, huh?” you said, hoping to break the tension.

“I should probably go,” she said before disappearing back into your bedroom.

“What? No.” You followed her, “you don’t have to. We don’t have to let her ruin our weekend.”

She didn’t look at you as she dragged her clothes back onto her body. A chill went over you, leaving you off balance and unsure. All you could do was watch as she put herself back together.

“I’ll call you,” she said, hand gently cupping your chin as she kissed your cheek.

The door slammed shut behind her and you fell back onto your mattress, the first tear falling. You’d known it was going to be awful when Liz found out, but you hadn’t thought Casey would be sent running. You’d stupidly assumed her feelings were strong enough to take the hit of your aunt’s disappointment.

She never called.

You kept to yourself for a few weeks, waiting, hoping she’d come back. Any time you called her it went to voicemail and she never called back. You stayed home, ordering takeout you didn’t want and left mostly uneaten. You curled up on the couch, stumbling through the days, wondering what you’d done wrong. Because you must have done something wrong for her to disappear from your life like that.

It took a lot of pride for you to drag your overwrought body over to your aunt’s. It was late enough you thought she’d be at home, but your knocks went unanswered. Sinking down onto her front steps, you lent against the ice cold metal of the handrail debating letting yourself freeze to it. It would be easier than continuing on in the hole you’d found yourself in.

“You make a sad sight.”

You blinked up at the woman towering over you. With a sigh, you hauled yourself to your feet, using the handrail to hold yourself up. Your aunt considered you for a moment before pushing past you to unlock her front door.

“You’d better come in,” she said, “can’t have you freezing to death out here.”

You trudged after her, letting yourself be enveloped in the familiar home you’d spent so many hours in. Her steady hand on your shoulder pushed you down onto her couch, disappearing out the back into where you knew the kitchen was.

A warm mug was placed in you hands, painful against your frozen fingers. You sighed, staring down into the steaming tea, the same brand she’d been stocking for you since you started sleeping over when life got too much for you.

“I sense I’m going to regret this, but do you want to talk?” she asked, lowering into the leather armchair that felt synonymous with her.

“Why didn’t you want me to pursue Casey?” you asked.

You’d been wrong. Your aunt always had a reason for asking things of you and she’d yet to be wrong. This was all your fault by not listening to her. So you had to know why she’d been so adamant this time.

“What’s happened?” she asked in return.

“I haven’t heard from her since you found out. She won’t take my calls. She won’t come see me. So I guess it’s over. I should have listened to you,” you said, staring down into your mug of tea. You took a slow sip. It was the same thing that had been going through your head for days now.

“Yes, you should have.” Your head snapped up to her.

“You knew this would happen?” you asked.

“I knew Casey Novak is a heartbreaker. She’s beautiful and smart and passionate. Makes her a damn good ADA. But the moment I saw the way she was looking at you I knew she was interested. And the way you looked at her said you were too,” she said, “you’ve never been able to lie to me.”

“So why did you tell me to stay away from her?” you asked.

“I think you forget I know you. She’s the exact kind of woman you’d destroy yourself for. I didn’t want to see you get your heart broken,” she said and you were surprised by how soft she could make her voice.

“So it wasn’t because you didn’t want me to distract your best prosecutor?” you asked.

“Distract her. Break her heart. I don’t care. It’s your heart I was trying to protect,” she replied.

“So much for that.” You slumped back, staring into your mug like it held all the answers, “I really fell for her.”

“I know you did,” she said.

“When you brought her up over lunch all those months ago…?” you asked, finally looking up at her again, realising what she’d said about lying.

“I knew you were lying to me. Foolishly, I thought it would lose its charm if I stop telling you what to do. I should have known better,” she said.

“I really thought she was falling for me too.”

And then the tears came. Your Aunt Liz had never been a cuddler, but the squeeze of her arm around you and her steady shoulder beneath your head was exactly what you needed. She let you cry until there were no more tears and then sent you upstairs to bed.

By the morning you felt a smidge better. Less pathetic at least. You stayed the weekend with her, reverting back to your teenage self, letting someone else look after you for once. And so you called out sick on Monday and followed her to work.

Her sharp look was all the opinion she was going to give you. After you’d told her your plan the night before she’d made her disapproval clear. But you needed to do it. For your own peace of mind.

Slipping into Casey’s office, you shut the door with a quiet click. Your heart squeezed as she looked up at you. The expression that went over her face would be enough to bring the tears on again if you hadn’t done your best to harden yourself to her. But there were dark circles under her eyes and it looked like she hadn’t slept since you’d last seen her.

“Hi,” you said, leaning back against her door.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“You never called.”

Green eyes darted away from you, the hands clasped on her desk tightening. You’d grown used to reading her body language and this was not a good sign.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but if you wanted to end things I wish you’d just told me,” you said, leaving the safety of the door, “I mean, I got the message but it would have been nice if you could have just said something.”

“I’m sorry,” she said on a sigh.

You stared up at the ceiling, doing your best to keep from exploding your emotions all over her office. You heard the scrape of her chair pushing back. You focused on the light hanging above.

“Hope is a thing with feathers/that perches in the soul/and sings the tune without the words/and never stops at all,” you whispered.

A broken breath passed through parted lips. You inhaled sharply, turning your gaze back to her. Her eyes were swimming with an emotion you couldn’t name, tears welling, threatening to fall. You shook your head, looking down to your fingers, twisting together until you thought they might break under the strain.

“I really thought you liked me,” you said, “enough to handle my aunt’s disapproval. But I guess I was the idiot who fell for someone who didn’t feel the same.”

She stayed silent.

“She finally told me why she didn’t want us to get together. She knew you were going to break my heart. Next time I think about ignoring her advice I’ll come back to this moment,” you said.

She was still staring at you in silence. You shook your head looking away, disappointment welling in you again.

“That’s all I wanted you to know. I’ll leave you alone now.”

You turned to go, your sigh heavy. You should have expected this. She couldn’t even handle having a conversation to end things with you. As if she was going to say anything when you tried to have one. Still, at least you got it off your chest. That was really all you wanted to do. Your hand landed on the doorknob.

“Wait!”

You froze, not used to hearing such desperation in her voice. The ache in your chest only got worse. You didn’t turn around, but you didn’t turn the doorknob either, hung between one decision and the next.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, and you could just imagine the tear spilling down her cheek. You squeezed your eyes shut.

“I wanted to call. I did. But…” You heard her take a deep breath in, “I’m not good when it becomes real.”

“What does that mean?” You turned, surprised at the spike of anger you felt making your heart beat double time.

“It means the last time I let myself fall in love in went badly. He… It’s not important, but I haven’t been able to let myself get that vulnerable again,” she said, looking at you like that explained everything.

“So this was nothing but a bit of fun for you?” you asked, “you never cared about me?”

“No!” Her hands grasped your forearm, the first touch of bare skin you’d had from her in weeks making your head spin, “no. Maybe that’s how it started but no.”

“Then make it make sense, Casey. If it mattered to you then why did you disappear? Why did you do this?” you demanded.

“Because I cared.”

She thrust her fingers into the front of her hair, gripping at the roots. She turned away from you, the anguish clear on her face. It was like a punch to the gut, sending you reeling. Your shoulders slumped, staring at her as she paced. The impulse to reach out and comfort her was still strong. You hated yourself for it.

“Look, I could ignore the way I was falling for you when it was just us. I could lie to myself and say it was just sex. That I didn’t want more. But then Donnelly was there and you were trying to protect me and I knew. I knew I was in love with you,” she said and you felt your heart break right there in her office.

“You were a coward,” you said, and it wasn’t nice but it was true.

“I was,” she agreed, “I didn’t want to hurt you but I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“You said you’d never let me go,” you said.

“A good line I thought would make you smile,” she said, shaking her head, “I didn’t expect you to actually want it.”

“Do you still love me?” you asked.

“What?” Her brow furrowed.

“After all this, do you still love me?” you asked.

“Does it matter?” she asked in return.

“Just answer the damn question.” You hadn’t expected to get angry but she jumped as you raised your voice.

“Yes,” she said, her voice breathless.

“Good.”

Your hands landed on her hips, forcing her back against her desk. Her lips parted and a flush bloomed over her cheeks. Pushing up onto your toes, your lips ghosted over hers.

“That I did always love/I bring thee proof,” you murmured.

You kissed her then and her whimper was music to your ears. Her arms came up around you, hands pressing between your shoulder blades, keeping you pressed against her. Your tongue swept into her mouth, needing this more than you’d realised. You’d thought this was the end. Instead, warmth was blooming in your chest and you felt giddy as you kissed her deeper. You couldn’t get close enough to her.

She drew back, breath heaving, eyes still closed. You ran your fingertips along her lower lip. She pressed a kiss to them before her eyes slowly blinked open.

“I know you’re scared, and I know you think you’re not good at this, but I’m not letting you go without a fight. I love you, ADA Casey Novak,” you said.

“Just Casey,” she whispered, voice breaking, a tear slipping free.

You wiped it away, then the next and the one after that.

“I don’t deserve you,” she said.

“No, you don’t,” you said, sliding your fingers into her hair, “but lucky for you I’m pigheaded and I’m used to getting what I want. Sound familiar?”

Her chuckle was wet but she pinched your side until you laughed too. She lent forward, forehead pressing to yours. Your hands slid around to interlock at the small of her back.

“So will you pick up when I call you tonight?” you asked.

“I’ll do you one better.” She cupped both your cheeks, tipping your face up towards her, “I’ll give you my spare key and you can be waiting for me when I get home.”

You kissed her again, not able to help yourself. Possibilities tasted so much better when they were coming true.

[comically-callous]

The Freedom of Senselessness

Thomas Hutter x fem!vampire!Reader

A/n: Hello, hi. I saw Nosferatu on new years and yeah #needthat here’s some Thomas Hutter fan-fiction. Comms are closed, I’m sorry. Please don’t hit me.

Summary: Thomas is visited by the Count’s servant in the middle of the night.

Contains: Use of fem pronouns, reader is wearing a dress, Thomas lowkey cheating on Ellen like emotionally (sorry not sorry), nightmares, reader bites Thomas, blood, Thomas is scared out of his mind of the count, reader is depressed as shit about being a vampire and alludes to killing herself for like half a second, reader blames herself for her misfortunes, sub behavior from Thomas because I’m a self indulgent FREAK. Let me know if I missed anything

Thomas woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for air as his hands balled into fists in the sheets. He could hear his own heart pounding in his ears and he clenched at his heart, fingers brushing over the puncture wounds in his chest.

What was happening to him?

He felt like he was living in a constant nightmare, constantly on edge, constantly terrified.

He shouldn’t have ever agreed to come here. But, it was all for her. For Ellen.

His fingers shakily brushed over the locket she’d given him before he left and he let out a soft sigh.

“You’re unwell.” A voice spoke up from the darkness and he jolted up with a gasp. Standing a few feet away from his bed was the Count’s servant whom he’d met the day he arrived at this god forsaken place. The woman was far less intimidating than her master, her presence bringing a sort of comfort to Thomas.

“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” She said, stepping closer to him, into the moonlight that streamed into the room through a large window.

“How long have you been here?” Thomas asked breathlessly.

“I’ve just come in.” Y/n replied. Thomas questioned to himself for a moment if that was true. He hadn’t heard her enter the room. “I heard you from my bedroom and you sounded distressed. I thought I’d come check on you.” She looked him over and Thomas found himself shifting uncomfortably under her gaze. “You’re having nightmares.” She stated.

“I—“ Thomas nodded. “Yes. Yes, I am…. How did you….?”

“All of our guests tend to have similar troubles.” She says. “Nightmares, restlessness, paranoia. A general unease.”

Thomas didn’t reply for a moment. His thoughts were jumbled and frantic, and he had to collect himself before he could speak again.

“I need to leave this place.” He finally said. “As soon as possible.” He realized how rude he must’ve sounded and quickly added on. “My wife, I haven’t been able to write to her. She must be worried for me.”

Y/n seemed to take in his words, eyes drifting to the floor before going back to him. “Leave when the sun rises.” She said. “That would be best.”

Thomas’ thoughts were still in a frenzy. But, he knew he had to tell this woman about his suspicions regarding her master. “Y/n,” He began. “You must forgive me for…. How manic I must seem. But,” He slowly got out of bed and ran a hand through his unkempt hair. “From the moment I arrived here, your employer has…. Deeply unsettled me. He’s appeared in every one of my dreams, terrorizing me, and…. I know it sounds quite fantastical. But, I think he may be….” Thomas couldn’t even bring himself to say it. “He may be a-“

“Vampire.” Y/n finished, voice coming out almost in a whisper.

Thomas’ eyes widened. “I…. Yes.” He furrowed his brows. “You knew?”

“I’ve known for a long time.” She confirmed, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. Thomas’ brows creased and he opened his mouth to ask another question before Y/n began to explain. “I was young and foolish when I agreed to work for him. He’d promised me so much. Power, protection, acceptance. I signed my life away to him. I did all of his bidding, waited on him hand and foot, anything, everything he asked. I wish to god I’d never agreed to it all, it became unbearable. One day, I tried to leave, to run away and….” She shook her head, chest rising and falling slowly.

“And….?” Thomas urged her on, taking a step closer to her.

“It upset him. Infuriated him. He cursed me for it.” She continued.

“Cursed you?”

“To be the same monster that he is. To never step into the sun again, to starve for a hunger that I cannot bring myself to satiate.” Her voice shook with each word that she uttered.

Thomas was admittedly a bit frightened at that. The same monster that he is. A vampire. But, there was something else that stirred in him. Part of it was sympathy, a voice inside of his mind telling him to comfort her. But, another part of it was a strange intrigue, an allure despite it all. Before he could think not to, he was sitting next to her in the bed.

“I’m sorry.” He said.

“No, it’s my own fault.” Y/n sighed. “If I only hadn’t been so foolish, things might’ve gone differently.”

“It’s still a fate that you don’t deserve”. Thomas assured her, reaching for her hand before he thought better of it and pulled back.

“It’s a fate that I don’t think I can endure for much longer.” She said softly. “Whenever I sleep, I have nightmares of becoming like him. My flesh rots away. My body dies, but my mind ceases to, and I rip into the flesh of innocent people like an animal.”

Thomas frowned. He couldn’t picture her like that, like him. “They’re only dreams.”

“They’re my future.” Her voice was unstable now, her eyes watery.

Thomas’ fingers twitched at his sides, itching to soothe her. But, he only offered a few soft reassuring words as the woman collected herself.

She took a deep breath and wiped at the corners of her eyes. “Forgive me. I’ve never told another soul about all of this…. Misfortune. I didn’t know I’d become so hysterical speaking about it.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

Y/n sighed softly. “Your kindness is admirable. Most men would drive a stake through my heart if they were given the chance.”

“I’d never do that to you.” Thomas said softly. “Er— I’d never do that to anyone, I mean.” He tried quickly to change the subject. “I…. I think the Count has been…. Biting me.” When Y/n didn’t immediately reply, he began to unbutton his shirt, showing her the punctures in his chest. She stared for a moment before she silently reached out and brushed her fingers over the wounds. Thomas hoped to god that she didn’t notice the shiver that ran down his spine in response to her touch.

“Yes. He used to do the same to me.” She spoke softly and her gaze never left his chest, almost as if she were in a daze.

“….Y/n?”

She blinked a few times before exhaling softly. She took her hand away from his chest. “I��m so sorry, I…. Lost myself for a moment.” Y/n said as she brought her gaze back up to meet his.

“It’s alright. It’s in your nature.” Thomas said, buttoning his shirt back up. “Um, your appetite for blood, I mean.”

“I wish it weren’t.” She sighed. “It makes me feel awful…. Disgusting-“

“You aren’t.” He interrupts. “Not a monster, not disgusting. You’re….” He trailed off. Y/n waited for him to continue and when he didn’t, she spoke again.

“I just can’t…. I have to force myself to do it, and even then the guilt of it all makes me sick.”

Thomas was quiet for a moment. The words he wanted to say seemed to get stuck in his throat, slowly edging to the tip of his tongue until he mustered up the courage to speak. “Is there anyway that I can help?”

That seemed to stun Y/n for a moment. Thomas knew what he was implying with his words and she seemed to know too. And, though it was a foolish thing to hope for, he wanted her to accept his offer.

“Help?” She repeated.

“Yes,” Thomas replied a bit too quickly. “Anything that I can do, anything.”

Y/n was silent for another moment, eyes dropping to his throat before snapping back to meet his unwavering gaze. “No.” She said softly.

A pang of disappointment hit Thomas. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” He said sincerely, deciding to leave out the fact that he wouldn’t mind her hurting him if it meant he could help her. “And I know you need this.” He added.

He heard her breath quiver as she sighed. “I can’t.”

Thomas thought carefully about his next words. Every logical part of him was telling him to hold his tongue. But, in the end, the irrational side of him let the words spill from his lips. “Would you reconsider if I told you I wanted you to?”

Y/n didn’t say anything. She was silent for what felt like an eternity, her gaze had shifted to her hands that nervously fidgeted in her lap. The silence lingered long enough for Thomas to begin regretting his words. He thought himself a fool for being so bold. He was about to apologize when Y/n finally spoke up.

“On your neck?” She asked in almost a whisper as if she were afraid someone would hear.

Thomas faltered for a moment before replying. “Anywhere you’d like.”

She took a deep breath before turning to him, her gaze searching for any signs of insincerity. Thomas held her gaze, anticipating her next move.

“I’ll hurt you.” She told him.

“I’ll heal.” He replied. “You need this.”

She stared for another moment, gaze slowly shifting to something more vulnerable. And finally, she moved closer. She was slow and cautious with her movements; whether the reason was for fear of hurting him or fear that he’d hurt her, Thomas wasn’t sure. One of her hands came up to the back of his neck, fingers gently brushing against Thomas’ nape. His eyes fluttered shut briefly and his head tilted back. Y/n leaned in and Thomas felt her cold breath hit his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. The moment lingered before Y/n spoke.

“Make me stop if I hurt you.” She said softly.

“Yes.” Thomas replied, voice barely above a whisper.

She finally leaned in and placed her mouth on his neck, teeth grazing against his throat before sinking into the side of his neck. The first thing he noticed was how cold the feeling was, like ice piercing into his skin and flowing through his entire body. His breath hitched, another shiver ran down his spine. His hands almost instinctively moved to pull her closer, body aching for her warmth (or maybe just for her).

Next, the pain hit him, stinging pain in his neck that made him whimper and gasp, hands now balling into her dress to anchor himself.

And finally, he felt wonderfully numb. Thomas sighed softly, the sound coming out more like a moan when it fell from his lips. His grip on her dress loosened and moved to gently hold her waist, head leaning back as his eyes became half lidded. His jaw was slack, soft pants spilling out of his mouth along with occasional mutterings.

“Y-you need this—“ He’d say, words slurring together as if he were drunk off of the sensation of being bitten. “Need this….” He repeated and it was unclear to the both of you if he was referring to you again or to himself. “Take it…. From me- god….” He seemed to be completely blissed out, all sense and shame no longer concerning him.

He almost didn’t even realize when Y/n had pulled away. He blinked a few times, breath coming in and out quickly. He gazed at her and her blood stained lips and only then seemed to realize how undignified he’d been. His cheeks flushed and he brought a hand up to his neck, feeling the punctures her teeth had left. He wondered if they’d turn into scars. Parts of this night that would stay with him forever.

“I….” Y/n broke the silence. “Hope I didn’t take this too far.” She stood from her spot on the bed, brushing her thumb over her lips to wipe away the blood that remained there.

“Er, no. No, of course not.” Thomas stammered.

She nodded. “Good.” Another silence fell over them. The tension between the two was palpable and hard to ignore. Perhaps Y/n realized this and decided to end things right then. “…. Well, if our…. Transaction is complete, then I should be going. It’ll be daylight soon.”

He wanted to ask her to stay. He felt safer with her in this place. But, another part of him, perhaps the more sensible part, told him that it wasn’t a good idea. He’d just allowed her bite and drink from him without needing any persuasion. He was the one to suggest it, actually. He was becoming irrational around her, indulging in the thoughts in his mind that he’d normally never even dare to speak aloud. Asking her to stay with him was another one of those thoughts.

So, he swallowed down his words and nodded his head. “Yes. I’ll….” He almost told her he’d see her in the morning. But, then he remembered her suggestion to leave the castle when the sun was risen. A hopeful part of him thought that maybe she’d leave with him. He’d bring her back to Wisborg where she could live a normal life, one that she deserved. But, the rational part of him knew that if she was able to leave, she would’ve done so long ago.

So, he uttered what would most likely be his last words to her. “Goodbye.”

Y/n paused before repeating. “Goodbye.” She walked toward the door and turned back to him to say one last thing before leaving him on his own.

“Thank you.”

[dinogoofymutated]

SFW!Nightcrawler/GN!Reader - Part 1 - part 2 - Part 3

kdhbcjshbc I know I said I was gonna work on my Wolverine fic rn but I got sidetracked. This was originally going to be one long ass fic but since the first half ended up already over 4k works I decided to split it into two! It's basically a friends to lovers fic and I know the beginning is a bit of a jumpscare but they're both adults by the end of the fic I promise!! Edit: I totally forgot to add!! Another special thanks to @blue-devil-of-the-lord for their help with german translations!

Tws: Mentions of animal cruelty in the circus. The ringleader is an asshole. I might have made Kurt's brother a bit of an asshole too sorry. Kurt's backstory is going to be kinda a combination of all the shit I've read/know so please be patient lol. I'll go back and add more tags if I think of any.

    You were sixteen when you first met Kurt Wagner, although, he went by Kurt Szardos back then. You had never been to the circus before, and you hadn’t really paid to be there anyway. The show had already started when your father had taken you into the tent, sitting you down in an absent seat near the front. You didn’t want to get in trouble, but he had assured you it was fine. He had business to attend to, and told you that his future employer had given his blessing for you to sit and watch as your father handled business. After all, the two of you were a combo deal, and if you were to be working for the circus, you might as well know just what you were getting yourself into.

    The circus tent was loud with laughter and the sounds of an awed crowd. It was a little overwhelming, to be honest. There were simply too many voices, too many lights- and yet when you finally set aside your grievances to try and enjoy the show, you still struggled.

    The monkeys were annoyed with their handler, and every shout towards the crowd was an insult. The lion was young, and still afraid he wouldn’t make the jump through that vicious ring of fire- still healing from the burns he earned by brushing against the flames during the last performance. The doves from the magician act were a bonded pair, rejoicing the time and attention they were being given in the spotlight- and yet the male was already dreading their moments after the show and the dark, dirty cage they would kept in. The female was trying her best to cheer him up. Every animal was unafraid to keep their voice down, and you had never heard animals speak so loudly before. Part of you wonders if it was simply because they were so used to being ignored, they had grown used to letting their voice free- speaking from the heart and yet always being unheard.

    You didn’t like this part of the circus much- and although the tricks these animals did were beautiful and amazing, you couldn’t manage to enjoy it like all the others around you did. You were frowning while all others were smiling and laughing so joyously- perhaps that was what drew him to you in the first place. 

    “And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present-” All but one of the spotlights have started to circle around the tent, the ringmaster standing completely within the only lingering light. “Our Flying Fiend… the Daredevil Demon… The one and only, Nightcrawler!” Every moving spotlight lands on a single man standing on one of the high beams. He’s smiling so brightly that you can see it from where you stand feet below him. He’s… strange. Elf-like ears, yellow eyes, and blue skin. A pointed tail sways eagerly behind him, and he takes a deep bow in front of you. His yellow eyes peer open as he does so, and for a moment, you swear he looks straight at you. You’re not entirely sure if he was wearing a costume or not anymore. 

    The performance starts out with one hell of a beginning. Every flip and jump is an incredible act of athleticism- and you find your eyes following Nightcrawler throughout every trick. Two other acrobats join the fray, and yet he’s the only one who catches your eye. At one point, they bring out these long swings- ones that sweep right above the audience with every swoop. There’s one swing for every side of the audience- and the acrobats switch with a dramatic flare every few swings. 

    On the very last switch, Nightcrawler is the one who swings over your seats. 

    He’s much more handsome up close, you realize, blushing even where you are now. You swear with every swing, he’s looking at you. It makes your heart flutter a bit, and on the very last swing of the night, he takes out a rose, pretending to throw it to multiple groups of screaming fans, before he swings again with a dramatic flair. Unlike the other times, he’s holding onto the swing with his feet and tail. He’s so close to the audience without touching a single hair on anyone's head- and then he gets to you.

    You could have sworn that time had slowed, no matter how quickly it happened. The two of you finally lock eyes, and his hand stretches out. The rose falls into your lap, the air whooshing by your face as he’s gone just as quickly. You pick up the flower, a genuine smile finally on your face, and you find that all the other voices of excitement around you have finally drowned out.

    That was the first and last time you had watched the show at Herr Getmann's Traveling Menagerie. After that, you and your father were behind the scenes instead of in the stands. 

    It had been about a week and a half since you and your father had been walking to the circus to work. He knew every path and every road like the back of his hand, insisting the two of you walk instead of drive to save money on gas, and he just so happened to know a few shortcuts through the woods. Usually, you were able to rely on him to guide you, but today you woke up late. Your father had already left without you- which you’re not entirely sure wasn’t intentional. He did leave a note for you, giving you instructions on how to get there on your own. 

    Needless to say, that didn’t actually work out too well. A thirty to forty-five-minute walk had quickly turned into an hour, and then an hour in a half. You were trying your absolute best to follow the instructions, but this was hardly a cohesive path in the middle of the woods. It wasn’t exactly easy.

    You’re beginning to give up at this point, stumbling through the brush as you try to find the general direction you think you’re supposed to be going. Your feet have started to ache and blister, and you find yourself beginning to lose hope.

    “Hello!” If the sound of the voice hadn’t scared the shit out of you, the strange man hanging upside down from the branches of a wild Crab apple tree certainly did. You shriek in terror, your feet slipping as you fall back on your butt. You hold your hands over your heart as the strange acrobat from the circus jumps down in a panic, holding his even stranger hands out in front of him.

    “Oh- Es tut mir Leid! I am so sorry! I had not meant to startle you!” He says frantically, kneeling down to help you up in a very gentlemanly manner. You’re wide-eyed as you look at him, letting him help you up without a fuss. Up close and in broad daylight like this, it was very clear that he certainly was… Blue, to say the least.

    “I-it’s okay.” You stutter. He smiles warmly at you, tail swaying excitedly behind him, and it simply confirms to you that he wasn’t wearing a costume at all. You open and close your mouth a few times, trying to find some words. He blinks at you as you do so, patiently (if not obliviously) waiting for you to speak.

    “You’re from the circus, aren’t you?” Is what you finally land on, still a little startled from before. The acrobat nods eagerly.

    “I am. I'm happy that you remember me! I’ve been told I leave a bit of an impression.” He jokes, and you find yourself smiling again. He was charming, for someone so strange. “The farrier is your father, right?” He asks, taking you by surprise. You didn’t think that anyone had taken the time to notice you, your father’s shadow in every sense of the word. It makes you feel a little funny, but surely he didn’t remember you from that first performance, right? Maybe he’s just very observant of those who come in and out of the circus stables. 

    “Well, yes.” You affirm, starting to anxiously fiddle with your fingers. “I didn’t really expect you to know who I was, to be honest.” He lets out a happy chuckle at that.

    “Of course, I know! A face like yours is hard to forget.” He chirps, sending you a wink. “But I must say, You’re a bit far from the circus, Meine Freundin.” You make a bit of a grimace at that, and he sends you a questioning smile.

    “Yes, well… To be frankly honest, I’m a bit lost.” You admit, eyes locked solely on the ground, taking the time to notice the various fruits that had fallen from the tree and gone bad. You can see the acrobat’s tail swaying in your peripheral vision, and still feel his eyes on you. It makes you blush a little from embarrassment, a little flustered that you had become so lost.

    “I’ll gladly show you the way, I was just about to go back myself.” Your head snaps up to look at him in bewilderment at that, before you realize just how lucky you are to have found him out here. He picks up a basket of crab apples that you hadn’t noticed before, and you offer to carry it for him as a thanks for guiding you back. He won’t let you no matter how hard you try, certainly the first gentleman you’ve met in quite a while. He tells you that your profuse thanks is more than enough for him.

    The two of you get to talking while you make the long walk back to the circus, and he tells you about his mother, Margali Szardos, and how she had asked him to wander over this way to pick the fruit from the crab apple tree for her. She was fairly adamant about him doing so, telling him that it was of great importance, but he didn’t quite understand why fruit could be such a pressing matter. He’s very funny, and you find yourself greatly enjoying his company. The two of you feel like close friends already, and you hadn’t even realized that you didn’t even know his real name until you’ve already arrived at the plethora of brightly colored circus tents.

    “I’m so sorry, I don’t believe I ever asked for your name.” You say, the awkwardness of the question not even registering with how happy you are to simply be in his company. He sends you another dazzling smile before he holds his hand, offering it for you to shake.

    “I’m Kurt.” He tells you. You introduce yourself as well, happy to have made a new friend today. You hear someone calling your name from not too far away, and spot your father waving his hand at you, calling you over.

    “I have to go, but thank you so much for your help!” You say, once again thanking him adamantly.

    “Walking with you was lovely. I hope to see you more often.” Kurt says, right before you go. You can’t help but blush a little, unable to keep yourself from smiling widely. You couldn’t help it! He was just so handsome in both looks and personality, the strangeness of his skin color and three-fingered hands being something you easily begin to care less and less about.

    “Likewise.” You agree, almost completely flustered. Your father calls for you again, and you quickly say your goodbyes before you rush off to him. You find yourself in a rather good mood for the rest of the day, despite your sore and blistered feet from the long journey here.

    Many months flew by very fast while you and your father worked for the circus, and you and Kurt had grown very close. He visited you when he could sneak away from practice and performances, and although you were more concerned about him staying out of trouble, you began to appreciate the company beyond the way a simple friend would, finding yourself blushing and flustered while around him.

    A fact that hadn’t changed throughout your time there was the treatment of many of the animals. All of them had a grievance or problem of some sort, and it broke your heart to have to stand by without the ability to help them. In the eyes of the circus, you were just the Ferrier’s assistant, nothing more. At first, you were, in the very least. Some of the animal trainers had noticed how good you were with the horses, and how even the most skittish of the equine animals would calm around you and let you handle them without any trouble. Things like that don’t go unnoticed, and soon enough many of the animal handlers had heard about your “gift” with the live attractions. Part of this was due to your Father’s constant bragging about your special skill with animals, although you were the only one who knew the truth about it all. After a while, the frustrated animal trainers began to ask you to assist them with the other animals as well, noting how it hadn’t taken very long before they were at ease around you. The size of cages and the attitudes of the trainers were something you couldn’t change very much, but even if you could only help out with a few things here and there, you were happy- and the animals were too.

    Today, you were doing your best to handle an absolute disaster. 

    Tonight’s animal show was a new set, with lots of loud noises and the pops of fireworks launching far, far above the tops of the tallest tent. With so many new lights and colors, they should have known something was bound to go wrong- and boy, did it. The smallest pony in the show was a stunning Blue Roan mare named Bubbles- and unlike many of the other mares in the show, she was very skittish. Her trainers mostly knew to be careful around her, but that consideration slipped under the radar when it came to all the new changes. Her show went by relatively seamless, with only a few issues here and there- but it was enough to put her on edge. When the fireworks finale went off as she was being led out of the main tent, it was just her last straw.

    I don’t like them. I don’t like the loud noises. Bubbles is pacing anxiously in the back of her tiny stable, still having trouble settling down. Every bump or noise from outside and even the neighboring stables sends her spiraling again. You’re standing at the gate, giving her a cautious amount of room to pace and worry so that she doesn’t feel trapped by you. 

    “I know, Bubbles, It’s okay.” You whisper. You’re so concerned for her, and angry with her trainers, too. It makes your blood boil to remember how one of them had gotten frustrated with her tonight, eventually giving up on settling her completely and thrusting her reins at you, telling you to “take this stupid thing somewhere else!”. The lack of patience and understanding makes you rage, but you know you can’t say a thing if you want to keep this opportunity to work with the animals.

    Please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so scared. I’ll do better, I promise. Bubbles says again. The words almost bring tears to your eyes, hurting for her. You hate seeing her so scared.

“Hey, hey. Easy, I’m not mad at you, I promise. You’re safe with me, okay?” You tell her, starting to slowly approach her as her pacing begins to slow. She whinnies once, huffing as she tries her best to calm herself down. Eventually, she begins to settle, letting you get close enough to reassuringly pet her nose and flank. She leans into the comforting touches, finally beginning to relax after being high-strung for so long. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a minute, enjoying each other's company as you hear the sounds of the circus begin to dwindle and die.

     I’m sorry for all the trouble. Bubbles apologizes quietly.

    “You haven’t been any trouble, Bubbles, I promise.” You say soothingly. “Do you want to talk for a bit before I go?” She nods her head, and that’s all the answer you need.

    The two of you talk for a long, long while as you take off her tack and brush her down, pampering her as you ready her for bed. You talk about food, trainers, the new horseshoes she’s getting next week- anything at all. Even Kurt comes up in conversation, eventually.

    I like him. She says decisively. He sneaks me leftover apples. You can’t help but giggle at that, already having a hunch that he had been giving the horses treats while no one was looking. Not that you really mind, it was nice to know that they had someone other than you and your father looking out for them.

    “I agree. He’s very nice.” You say, smiling brightly. She noses you in response.

    I think he likes you, too. You instantly blush at her words, shaking your head at her with a flustered smile. You honestly doubted he saw you as much more of a friend, even if the two of you have had somewhat sensitive moments sometimes.

    “I really don't think-”

    “Guten Abend!” You can’t help but shriek at the greeting, knowing just who it was as you whip around in the stable, spotting Kurt leaning against the gate with a cheesy smile.

    “Kurt! You have got to stop scaring me like that!” You scold, throwing the dandy brush at him. He pretends to be wounded, holding a hand over the spot it hit him dramatically as he laughs.

    “I’m sorry. Seems I couldn’t help myself.” Kurt says, and you lightly slap his arm again for good measure when you can reach him, trying and failing to keep yourself from smiling at his antics.

    “You could have startled Bubbles. It took forever for me to get her settled after the show today!” You scold him again, smile not letting up for a second. Kurt smiles a little nervously at that before he looks behind you to see the completely unbothered Bubbles.

    He wouldn’t have- I saw him come in. She says. You wave her off discreetly. That’s not the point, Bubbles! But even without being able to understand her, Kurt seems to get the hint that she wasn’t even a tad bit bothered and jumps the gate with such ease you can’t help but be a little jealous of his athleticism. 

    “Then I’ll apologize to you too, Bubbles.” Kurt cooes, lavishing her forehead and muzzle with pets and kisses that she happily receives. You watch him with a smile, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. You knew you were absolutely gone on him, this little crush of yours having developed into true and deep feelings of affection. But how could you not? Even watching him right now it’s clear to see the kindness and support he gives to every living thing regardless of status or species. That meant more to you than you think he might ever know.

    “How was it out there?” You ask eventually, leaning against the side of the stable.

    “So-so. The crowds have started to react less to our sets. Mother says that we’ll get better reactions if we change the performance a little.” Kurt shrugs, tail tucked tightly around his own waist- something you noticed he did every time he entered the stables so that he wouldn’t startle the horses with the snake-like limb. You frown, eyebrows furrowing at the news. You knew that they had been trying some new things for the animal shows, but the acrobatics had always been so incredible and immaculate. It’s strange to you that anyone would look on at that part of the show with a straight face.

    “And how does Ringmaster Getmann feel about that?” You ask. Bubbles huffs through her nose angrily at his name, and you join Kurt by her side, petting her shoulder. You can see that Kurt is frowning, not responding to your question as his eyes stay squarely on Bubbles. 

    “...Kurt?” You’re really worried for him now, knowing that the look on his face can only mean that nothing good will come of it.

    “It’s nothing for you to worry over.” Kurt responds after a minute. “He wants us to do riskier tricks, but Mother keeps telling him it’s not the best idea. He’s rather adamant about it though.” His voice is soft while he delivers the news, and it makes you wonder how on earth he’s not angry about the blatant disregard for both his and his adoptive siblings’ safety.

     I knew I had a good reason to hate that man! Bubbles speaks angrily as she flicks her tail, Kurt being the only reason she hadn’t bucked or stopped in frustration. Your worry begins to deepen as you think everything over.

    “I- You won’t get hurt, will you?” You ask, worry clearly spilling into your tone. “The animal injuries are already bad enough, but if he starts risking human lives-”

    “I’ll be fine, Schatz.” Kurt cuts you off, stepping away from Bubbles to take your hands in his own. The nickname had a tendency to make your heart flutter, but right now all you could feel was the anxiety of an impending disaster. “Please don’t worry for me.” He tells you, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. You’re breath catches at the act, and when you look at him there's a fond, reassuring look on his face. Still, it did not ease your worries in the slightest. Kurt takes a step closer to you, his hand cupping your face now instead.

    “I can’t help it. I worry because I care.” You whisper. Kurt smiles softly at you, leaning in to rest his forehead against your own. The two of you sit in silence for a minute, reveling in the fond moment. Still, your lips tingled with how close the two of you are, eyes darting down to the shape of his lips as you ran your tongue across your own. Kurt’s pretty eyes don’t let the action go unnoticed. He begins to lean in to close the gap between the two of you, and your eyes flutter closed as he does so.

    “Kurt.” The voice startles the two of you, separating immediately. It’s Stephan, Kurt’s adoptive brother. He’s not only startled you and Kurt, but Bubbles too. She spooks in the tiny stables, rearing up before you immediately turn to her, doing your best to calm her down once again. She’s breathing a little hard, but she’s not pacing again, which was much better than before, although you were certainly peeved to have backtracked already.

   “You know you’re not supposed to linger around the stables after the show,” Stephan says to Kurt, who only frowns. The two had begun to form a rather strained relationship as of late, but neither of you would have expected him to go out of his way to catch Kurt like this. You glance back at them as you finish settling Bubbles, staying silent as the two of them share a look. Kurt’s tail sways a bit, and you can see Stephan roll his eyes at Kurt before he nods his head to the door and begins to leave. Kurt sighs deeply before he turns to you with a remorseful look.

    “I’ll see you soon- promise,” Kurt says, taking your hands in his own and giving them a reassuring squeeze. You’re frowning, unable to help it at this point due to the moment being ruined. Kurt leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead before he leaves, and you smile a bit. He gives you another quiet goodbye before he jumps the gate again, and follows his brother out.

    You're left standing there with Bubbles, and despite Kurt’s promises, you have an uneasy feeling in your chest. You want to blame it on the disappointment of the night, but you can't help but wonder when you'd actually get to see him again.

[lotusarchon]

hiii! I was wondering if I could request MK having a crush on his coworker?? For example like- Reader works as a waiter in pigsys and Mk admires them a little too much

Can you make it spicy too in a way?? Sorry if that sounds demanding 😭😭

Yhank you!! Have a nice day<333

waiter, waiter! one serving of my heart, please (mk x reader)

content warnings: gender neutral reader, second pov (you/your), reader and Pigsy's relationship is strictly professional/no solid relationships between them, mk is in love

author's notes: twas a bit hesitant to write this cause it kinda reminded me of an asshole i once met in my older server bleghhhhh :< also sorry, i couldn't make it spicy agh

MK remembered when you first walk through the door. It was another Tuesday afternoon, bored out of his mind after another day of delivering noodles and saving the city. He'd only just returned, filling in Tang about the demons he came across while Pigsy made something in the kitchen.

And you were there. A bit dull-eyed compared to what MK remembered, but still wearing that smile he'd grown so fond of. You'd raised your hand in greeting, asking for the owner of the establishment you'd enter.

He remembered being too dazed to really focus on the conversation. All he knew was that he'd call for Pigsy, then spent the next hour or so watching you from a corner. It wasn't until you had taken your leave did he realize to ask, and he turned to Pigsy for answers.

“Oh, don't look at me like that.” Pigsy had sighed, sliding a bowl of freshly cooked noodles towards him. “You've been busier than ever with your training. And since we don't want a repeat of last time―” Last time meaning the clone incident. He still couldn't get over obese Delivery Clone trying to eat Pigsy… “―I figured a helping hand around here would do the trick.”

MK pretended to pout. “So you're replacing me?”

“No, dumbass.” Pigsy threw a wet cloth at Tang. It landed with ease, and the scholar whined. “Just that you don't have to stress too much about not doing enough around here. (Name)’ll work in your free time, and you theirs.”

It didn't seem like too bad of an arrangement. There were days he couldn't be around, swamped with training or some monster that wouldn't leave the city alone, and Pigsy would need an extra hand to help around. He could've asked Mei though, but he figured that the pig demon also wanted to offer employment to anyone in need of it.

It's just that, while MK had eaten his noodles and stared through the window to past the time, he really thought you were interesting, and the plans Pigsy had meant that, most likely, neither of you would get to speak together.

And that sucked. Because, once MK had the idea (and mere audacity, to quote a certain hot tempered bull prince) of befriending someone, not even the Buddha could pry the thought from his head.

Which in turn, lead to certain events, as of now. Hanging around during his own breaks to catch a mere glimpse of you, trying to play off the ‘cool’ hero act only to have his own staff knock him over in the process, god awful flirting attempts (seriously, those lines were bad bad), to name a few of the things he'd done. That wasn't even mentioning the times he accidentally held you up during rush hour, earning a scolding from Pigsy and customers that were completely rude to you and made MK feel so guilty in the aftermath.

With that last one, you'd think that such behavior would be enough to put anyone off. No sane adult liked getting yelled at for actions that weren't their fault, especially from their boss.

By the gods, you were a literal saint. And MK would be damn well lying if he said he wasn't head over heels in love, and that was saying something.

But, no. You still smiled at MK every morning when clocking in for work, and you still laughed at his bad jokes and horrible flirting lines. The rare off chance you two spoke, you were always so nice, not even bringing up the fact he'd gotten you into so much trouble over and over again.

“You're going on your lunch break?” He asked, waiting outside for you to show your face once again. Today had been his day off, but with Mei busy and the city surprisingly peaceful for the time, what better way to spend it than with you?

The question was a bit…too obvious, honestly. Of course you'd be going on your lunch break at this hour, how would he not know when he worked for Pigsy at the same time?? Plus, it's not like he hadn't hassled Pigsy before about your work hours and the time you'd take your breaks so…

You raised your head and glanced at him, nodding slightly. “Yes. Would you like to join me?”

In his head, MK was jumping for joy. He had been planning on asking you if he should join, but then you went right ahead and invited him first. This was progress at its finest, and MK was nabbing at this opportunity faster than lightning.

Just as quickly, he responded, “I mean, if you wouldn't mind me, I don't mind! Like, if you want me, haha….”

He could imagine Mei looking down at him in disappointment. <Seriously, confidence is key. You're the Monkie Kid, what do you have to be worried about!?

That was easy for her to say! She was always cool, unlike MK who'd embarassing himself in front of you so many times….

Lost in thought, he hadn't realized you'd stopped walking until he nearly tripped over a table. You had the kindness to grab at him before he fell, offering your sweet, signature smile while he took a seat, nervously laughing.

“So….”

“So…”

How awkward. MK played with his sleeves, watching you pop open a box of noodles from Pigsy and eat. How the fuck do you even start conversations again?

As if you read his mind, you raised your head and gave him another smile. How he wished he had a notebook and pen around, if only to sketch you with such a peaceful expression.

“You can speak, if you'd like,” you said assuringly, picking up a mushroom from your bowl. MK was never a fan of vegetables, but watching you stick it into your mouth made him wonder if he should try eating some. “I'll listen. ‘kay?”

So thoughtful. “O..okay…”

And boy did MK speak. He chattered endlessly about anything that came to mind, gauging how you reacted carefully. Sometimes, you'd finish chewing to comment or too, other times, your expression would change with whatever he was talking about, nodding along in agreement with his peeves and then shaking your head when someone else supposedly did him wrong.

At some point, he'd completely trailed off topic, staring at your lips wrapped around your chopstick. He was technically still yapping, except that now―

“What did you just say?”

He blinked.

What…..what had he been talking just now? Was it something that upsetted you!? Fuck, he's such an idiot, allowing his mouth to blabber―

“You…like me?”

….

…

MK stood to bolt.

It turned out you were a lot faster than you gave him credit for. You had already grabbed him by the collar, yanking him backwards and onto the seat―this time, next to you.

“MK.”

Dear god, he wanted to disappear. Why hadn't Monkey King taught him one of his 72 transformations?? Fleeing from this situation would be a whole lot faster….

“MK.” You repeated his name, turning his head to look at you. “I heard you, you know.”

MK sighed. “Listen, I'm so sorry―”

“Why? Who said I didn't like you too?”

“―like, I know, I know, you're not here for relationships or any of that sort, and I shouldn't―what did you just say?”

You smiled slightly. “I said, I like you too.”

“Oh.”

“...”

“...”

And then MK fainted.

“MK? Are you alright?”

@lotusarchon , 28.11.2024, all rights reserved. do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission. comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated!

[2-dsimp]

if it’s no trouble could we get another part to DILF/ nanny reader? Maybe like a willing reader? Bc I know of a hot dad wanted to date me who am I to say no? Lol great work!!!!

Cw: fem reader! jealousy, possessive/obsessive tendencies, Quio and Miki butting heads, the plot thickens

Synopsis no.2: 【featuring you being caught in the middle between your coworker and employer literally and figuratively. Miki obviously hates your employer and makes it well known meanwhile Quio does the same vice versa. The Dilf tried his best to put his and Peina’s plan of seducing you into action. But he’s constantly getting interrupted. And He’s honestly so close to snapping at this point.】

☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:

“I wish you’d stop by here more often after all you’re already part of the family."

The Dilf sighs melodramatically, electing a small giggle from your lips. Seeing how he acted so distraught due to your absence. While he led you and your coworker to the living room, gesturing for you to take a seat on the couch.

“Oh that’s kind of you to say Mr. Evinis but I can’t possibly impose on you guys. Plus I’ve still gotta work my boring office job”

You replied with a mirthful tone at his sweet comment truly feeling as if you’ve made a second home within your employers household. You’ve already grown accustomed to his friendly work staff and of course his darling daughter who was l always clinging onto you like a baby kitten. And the fact that her father was so chivalrous and kind didn’t help your own little crush from forming on the single dad.

“Oh perish the thought sugarling~ we’re lucky enough to even be blessed by your radiant grace. In this boring household.”

Quio reassures with a charming smile, as he makes sure to fluff up some fancy decor pillows for his lovely lady. After placing the plush pillows down where you’d sit, He then put a hand on your shoulder giving a comforting squeeze.

“In fact me and the little squirt have always gotten excited at seeing you pull up and we’d be more than happy to keep you hostage here if possible”

The Dilf admits in a cheesy manner, which made you feel at ease. From how sweet his insistence at you dropping by often to hang out was. Being none the wiser to how he was being 100% serious. About the part where him and his daughter briefly molled over the idea of keeping their lovely nanny hostage at their mansion. Since they honestly couldn’t get enough of how addicting your sunshine liken presence.

Lit up every dark lonesome corner of the estate and they’d be damned if they every let you get a chance to escape from their sights. brandishes a pearly grin at the thought of being able to cater personally to his future missus.

“Also if your boring office job is what’s holding you back from spending quality time with us then I can think of a couple solutions to—“

“Um, let me stop you right there man. Whatever you’re pitching would be nice and all but I need my work wife.”

Once again you missed the small micro transgression within the Dilf’s facial features as his eye twitched at the irksome interruption done by that worthless dickbag.

“Aha work wife? With someone like you? I see you’re the type to joke around huh?”

He replied in an tone of condescension giving Miki a mean spirited smile. And an idle glance over full of scorn at the self assured confidence in this boy, who was proclaiming that his darling was his work wife.

“Well I am quite the jokester—wait what the hell do you mean by someone like me??”

You nearly busted out laughing at how Miki got a miffed expression on his face from the subtle dig done by the famous actor. You didn’t necessarily claim to be Miki’s work wife as nice as his company was. He was an utter shitty coworker to have when you’re trying to get shit done. Whenever you two were paired it’d be him cracking jokes while you were working like an effective machine.

“Well If anything they’re my work wife, no my wife, since yknow she’s looking after my kid like the little darling angel she is”

Quio nearly purred with a sharp edge to his voice as he blatantly rubbed it in Miki’s face the sheer difference. Between the two of them and how he was ultimately more important in your standings.

“Anit that right sweetness?”

The single dad hummed with a sickening sweet expression that resembled a hopeful doe eyed buck. His shouldering eyes never failed to make your heart do kick flips from how they always seemed to focus on purely you. Almost as if you were his world, his missing half. You got extremely flustered that you could barely even respond to his words. Until Miki let out a sneer and fixed his apparent love rival a shrewd scowl.

“Oh please as if! She’s your Nanny, not your substitute wife. Plus I already called dibs on her first, my guy.”

The sight of that damned flea mansplaining on the couch with the slinging over his arm right behind your head. Made Quio imagine ripping that same offending arm from our his socket and bitch slapping him with it.

“Dibs? Are you insinuating that she’s an object to be possessed by the likes of a peasant like you?”

He taunts snarkily, dropping his nice guy facade as makes his way to sit right in between you and Miki. Squeezing his bulky frame in the middle of the couch he gracefully crosses his legs as he swats off the offending arm behind your head and replaces it with his own.

“Tch! Now you know that’s not what I meant. It’s always you actors spinning fabricated lies. And the fuck did you just—“

“Miki don’t you think that it’s time for you to go soon? You’re gonna be late for work”

You interjected seeing how things were getting out of hand between the two offending men. Quio merely gave a smug smile as he saw Miki begrudgingly get up with an scowl on his face. You were right he had to go soon since he couldn’t be late for his promotion into higher management. He didn’t tell you that yet because he wanted to surprise you on the day you both worked the same shift.

“Ah fuck your right, thanks for the reminder what would I do without my precious work wife?”

Miki emphasized loudly, Shooting a glare towards the A-listed actor as he then gave you an abrupt hug goodbye whilst still glowering at the Dilf. The two seemed to be exchanging a clash of mixed silent threats behind your back.

Quio “gently” nudged Miki away from his darling with a hard shove with the pointy tip of his shoe upon his midriff. Making your coworker stumble back with a sharp exhaled grunt escaping his lips. Good, he hoped that fucker gets sore down there. The single dad was always about getting his get back by being petty whenever someone blatantly tried to piss him off.

“Alright that’s enough Casanova wouldn’t wanna keep your bosses waiting yeah?”

The Dilf chirped in a sweet noncommittal manner as he briefly pulled you into a side hug. As if to cleanse you from the poor touch Miki had given you. Miki had to bite back his tongue since he really couldn’t afford to waste time with the man’s shenanigans. And rolled his eyes he could only afford to shoot you a word of warning with concern shining in his eyes before he made his way outside of the million dollar manor.

“Be careful… You know how actors are, always so full of shit. Call me when you’re done I’ll come to pick you up okay?”

“Yeah yeah, don’t let the door hit cha on ya on the way out Miki”

Quio sassed as he couldn’t wait to have that cocky fucker out of sight and out of mind. There were so many times where the actor came close to acting out. One of his many aspiring roles which consisted of him being a deranged serial killer. It would’ve gave him peace of mind to choke out that lanky shithead and watch the life leave his eyes.

But he had better things to do at the moment rather than drone in about how he’d murder Miki in cold blood. Like wooing you over for instance which was unfortunately put on pause due to a pest intent on getting in the way between you and him. So he feels a sense of relief wash over him as Miki leaves, knowing that he can finally have you all to himself.

“It seems like you two get along well enough already”

You caught the Dilf off guard with your off handed comment as he gave you a raised brow and an apprehensive smile. He shook his head slightly and gave a dark chuckle at how naive you were to perceive their little spat to be that of a friendly origin. When they clearly wanted to go at each others necks.

“It would seem so… But hey I was wondering if you’d be interested in—“

His phone decided to go off in the most headache inducing way. He could hear the annoying ringtone which indicated that his manager was calling and he bit back a snarl from being interrupted once again. Collecting himself he excused himself from the couch not being fore taking your hand in his and giving it a small chaste kiss as he gave you an apologetic gaze.

“Sorry about this sugarling I’ve gotta take this call I’ll be right back”

With his servants taking leave at his behest today was the day he planned on tying the metaphorical knot with the cute Nanny that stole both his and his little girl’s heart. So his manager had better got a pretty damn good reason for bugging him on his day of vacation leave. Or else they’ll get added to the hitlist alongside that damned coworker of yours.

。

。

。

I’m thinking of making this into a mini series, let me know if I should continue!o(≧v≦)o

[awarmbowlofhomemadesoup]

Transformers One: What They Value and Rely On Split Orion and D-16 Apart

Orion Pax and D-16 are one of those friendships in which they're opposites, and that's not really a problem until a significant change comes along.

Being opposites isn't so bad. At times, they complement each other. It's just that they put value on different things.

(spoilers down below)

Let's Talk About the Life of a Miner

Long before World Wars One and Two started, US miners had already been fighting for their rights against grim conditions. In some cases, they have to pay rent to their employers and buy their own supplies with fake money that they can only exchange in stores owned by said employers.

The life of a cog-less miner is not so different:

They don't own a home.

They are crowded in specialized dormitories in standing, cramped recharging berths.

If Orion can afford a decal for Dee, then it's obvious that they're getting paid, but not enough for them to live independently.

Their options to improve their lives are limited, and they can get fired for accidents beyond their control (Elita-1).

Furthermore, both in real life and in the movie, mining is a dangerous profession enforced by people who don't mine. (Hey, Pinkerton Agency, guess which one of my fingers can transform)

It's no wonder Orion Pax questions if things could be better for them.

What Does Orion Pax Put Value In

Many of these miners have accepted their reality and focused on their function. But Orion wants to help in other ways. If they can help find the Matrix of Leadership, then they don't have to endure such conditions because Energon would flow again.

So, what does Orion value? The betterment of not just his life, but everyone's.

But there's something else he puts value in so much that he relies on it so much.

Throughout the movie, Orion Pax is shown to think quickly under pressure. His quick thinking and improvisation have helped him escape the guards at the archive, free Jazz enough to save the rest of him from the mining accident and get ahead of the race.

But in the movie, it's not his quick thinking that he puts value in so much that he relies on it.

No. That would be his friendship with D-16.

Why does he insist that D-16 come with him to the Iacon 5000? Why does he want Dee to go with him to the surface to find the Matrix?

Because he knows he can't do it alone. He needs someone to watch his back as he would with him.

What Does D-16 Put Value In

D-16 puts value on strength. Not just his own but also the power over him. Dee is a very strong guy, even as cog-less. He's definitely bigger than the other miners and can stop a punch from Darkwing.

Being strong, he can endure a lot of stuff (probably including Orion's tendency to get into trouble finding clues about the Matrix). He had accepted the system that they lived in because he could endure it enough to get to places like being on the top leader board of their sector.

His strength also makes him reliable. He sees things through, making him one of the best miners, as Sentinel has acknowledged, and he doesn't bail out when he complains about things.

But that's the problem, when he complains about things, there's something I've noticed.

Dee is pretty much logical to Orion's idealism. Where Orion dreams about better things for everyone, Dee accepts what is and plays its game to win at life.

But when things go wrong, Dee is quick to blame Orion, even when it's not Orion's fault. I can understand Dee blaming Orion for most likely getting into trouble for entering a race for Transformers. But when they find out the truth, Dee quickly blames Orion because they are in danger for knowing the truth.

It is understandable for him to think that, but unfair in the grand scheme of things when it's the system's fault (also Darkwing's pettiness).

My only understanding, though I may be wrong, is that Dee focuses on power. He's focused on the power of the system that they are in than the need to let everyone know the truth. That they cannot do anything because Sentinel has the power and they don't.

Which is pretty logical, they have to be careful. But Dee isn't focused on caution. He's angry enough to kill him, but he just feels powerless. (Negatron, lol)

And when Dee was given the power, he started turning into a different person. Or rather, what kind of person he would be if he has the power to change things.

The Climactic Breakup

In the later half of the movie, we can see Orion's perspective of D-16 turning into a person he no longer recognizes.

He tried to talk to him after escaping Sentinel's bots but they got kidnapped by the High Guard.

He tried to intervene when Dee beat up Starscream, but Airachneed and co. attacked them.

Finally, he tried to stop him from killing Sentinel. He knows Dee. He knows Dee would see the job through. He's not just going to stop at one. (And he was right, he wasn't just there to see it.)

In Dee's perspective, Sentinel had taken away their power. Dee was going to make him pay and take his power. Power that Sentinel never deserved and stole from Megatronus.

Orion tried to stop him but was blasted. At this point, perhaps saving Orion has become second nature to Dee over the years of their friendship.

But because Dee values power and Orion is becoming an obstacle to it, Dee makes a choice.

And the rest is history.

What Orion Pax Already Knows That D-16 Will Take Millions of Years to Realize

D-16 relies on strength, and Orion Pax relies value on friendship. There's this YouTube short by @EdFormers that shows the parallel between their hands when they save the other.

When Orion saves Dee in Iacon 5000, his hand is already dropped. He has lost his jetpack, and he knows there's nothing he can do about it. But when Dee saves Megatron after Dee blasts him, Orion's hand is up because he has faith Dee will save him.

When Optimus realizes power is more important for Megatron over what they have, he mourned about it. He told Megatron, "We could have built the future together," because he knows what they could do together.

Back when they were cog-less, they were able to save Jazz and almost win the Iacon 5000. Dee was the realist to Orion's dreamer. When Dee sees a dead end, Orion sees a window they can jump through. They have each other's back regardless of the fact that Dee wants to better his life and Orion wants to better everyone's including Dee in a way Dee couldn't see.

Until Dee doesn't have his back.

What I'm saying is that they make a great team, what more now that they have cogs? Optimus sees that. Megatron doesn't.

And he won't, even when the Quintessons would come for both Autobots and Decepticons. And he wouldn't, even after millions of years of fighting each other at the cost of Cybertron itself, that they end up warring on Earth.

Because they rely on different things because they value different things, even if they have the same goal.

But when they will finally be on the same page, I believe Optimus Prime and Megatron would be able to achieve greater things.

In the old comics by Marvel, Bob Budiansky made a bio for Optimus Prime where he described that if he was less compassionate and caring, he would have been a more effective military commander. But then, he wouldn’t be Optimus Prime. 

I know one guy who could balance him out.

[souriru]

we keep behind closed doors || jingyuan

note: i know i am late as hell but i had issues haha. this could also be a big multichapter jing yuan fic but idk. jing yuan my husband yes sir anything for you 🤤🤤🤤|| minors please do not interact with the post || 552 words || kinktober masterlist.

there’s something curious about your latest client. the purest white hair, as fluffy as a lion’s mane, and just as messy with how he stashes money inside of it, and yet having eyes so sharp that the entire world could cut itself on it. he’s silent, used to making requests and demands with his eyes alone, and though you hate the egoistic clients who barely make you come, his ego isn’t as fragile as he makes it out to be. “hello, dearest.” is how he always starts before you hear the familiar jingling of a pant drop, jewellery, belt and all. 

“hello, sir.” you whisper into the dark, a tentative hand between your legs moving so fast and steady that one could consider you’ve been pavloved into sex and sweat and the ease he brings with him. this man is the only customer who gets you in this kind of mood, after all. “you’ve missed me, i see.” light, lilting- this man has a habit of messing around with you. “i’ve missed you too, dearest. won’t you come closer?” 

there is no more ‘closer’ to come to, not without losing this job, you want to say, but honestly? this is a shitty job, and men like him are 1 in a 1000, so you shuffle on your knees, biting your lip at the friction as the door opens and you close your eyes out of habit. “there’s my dearest. keep those beautiful eyes closed just like that.” the man murmurs as he ties a silk band around your eyes before covering your body with the thin robe offered by your employer. 

“now, my dearest.” he starts, kissing your cheek before hooking your robe in his hands, “do i have your permission?” you nod, unsure about where this was supposed to be going, nervous about getting in trouble, but all that fades when the man kisses your neck and inches his way towards your chest, kissing and biting your skin as his hands make his way to your hips. “when you tell me to stop, i shall. not a word more i need from you. if you do enjoy it, just let me hear you, dearest.” you nod, sighing as he massages your sore body before pushing you onto your back gently, laying you on the finest silk before gently inserting a wet finger into your cunt. 

“this i had been waiting to do for ages, dearest.” he sighs as he inserts another gently, bending over to kiss your cheek, neck and chest, littering them with bites that you knew would blossom like the forbidden red lillies in the dark. eventually, he speeds up the pace as he finds the spot that gives you the most pleasure, and as you climax, you feel his hair graze you gently like the exquisite silk curtains many women say grace the rooms of the luofu general’s home along with your work name whispered like praise instead something so shameful and dirty like most men make it out to be. 

and as you lay on the silk cloak, catching your breath, he waves your- in no less terms- owner over, and says simply, “i will buy their freedom. consider all their debts paid, and for any discrepancies… well, you may contact the general of the xianzhou luofu.”

[brokenmenswhore]

betrothals & brothels | aegon, aemond, & jace

part 4

pairings: aegon targaryen x stark fem!reader, aemond targaryen x stark fem!reader, jacaerys velaryon x stark fem!reader

series summary: aemond targaryen tells the realm that you, the lady of house stark, are to wed him and secure a partnership in the north. in protest, you agree to marry jacaerys velaryon, affirming the north’s allegiance to rhaenyra. when the news hits king’s landing, aegon decides it’s better to have you under his watchful eye until the political partnership is solidified, but doesn’t realize you have a life away from your duty as a stark

chapter warnings: smut!! (MDNI 18+), slapping (non-sexual, brief)

a/n: alright y’all, i think i’m gonna make this thing 6 parts? i’m really shit at writing ongoing fics because i never know how to wrap ‘em up but i storyboarded it i’m thinking we’re halfway through riiiight NOW

series masterlist

────── ☾ ──────

“Seven hells, are you alright?” the Madam asked, “you look like hell.”

You scanned the room, only calming down when you were sure there were no recognizable faces, specifically Targaryens, in the vicinity.

“I was just locked in a dungeon cell, thank you for asking,” you responded, making it clear that your annoyance was at your predicament, not at her.

“A dungeon?”

“His Grace does not favor my sharp tongue.”

The Madam’s eyes widened. “My Lady, do you mean to tell me you are in trouble with His Grace King Aegon?”

You mentally cursed. You wholly forgot that this woman had no idea of your reasoning for being in King’s Landing, having left any unnecessary piece of information out of your employment deal.

She saw your frustration, and decided not to pester the question further. “I suppose you would fancy something to calm the senses?”

You gave her a soft smile, accepting the cup the moment it was handed over to you. Taking one giant gulp of liquid courage, you said, “I need you to allow me to reside here for a while. I fear this may be the only place I’m safe.”

“I do feel obliged to tell you that I cannot guarantee His Grace never come here again. His brother, Prince Aemond, is a frequent visitor of this establishment. This may very well not be the safest place for you.”

You knew Aemond came here. You had followed him in here upon your first visitation. You also knew it couldn’t be too difficult to avoid him if you tried.

“Just a few nights, then,” you bargained, “until I find something more permanent.”

“Is the situation truly so urgent?” the Madam questioned in concern.

“May we speak in private?” you asked.

The Madam pulled you to a private room and closed the door. You explained the entirety of your situation, sure to leave in each and every gruesome detail that further proved how urgent this truly was. She listened in awe, unaware of all that had been happening in the Red Keep. She knew that Aemond, a frequent visitor of hers, had announced a betrothal, but Aemond had told her it was purely political, and to not ask any further questions on the matter. Therefore, the Madam never thought to ask who the proposal of marriage was intended for. The Stark name never raised any flags for the Madam, and she never thought anything of it.

The Madam agreed to let you rest in one of the typically unoccupied rooms toward the back of the brothel, in exchange for openness of your clientele. It still remained somewhat selective, the Madam not allowing anyone from the North near you, and of course, no Targaryen men.

You discarded the Targaryen gown the moment you were alone, happier with what was underneath. It was still quite a lot, covering most of your body, but its appearance did not strike one as wealthy.

✶

Any affection Aemond was beginning to hold for you was swiftly removed from his heart the moment he saw your cell unoccupied and the door swung open. He enjoyed a challenge, but even you were beginning to be too much for him. He was beginning to fancy you, and he was jealous of how you treated Jacaerys compared to how you treated him. He knew that, regardless of his emotions, you were the only person who made him feel like he met his match.

However, he was growing tired of the games. If you truly detested him so much, what was the point of all his efforts? He suspected why you asked him for access to the brothels; he had heard the rumors about you at night in the North. Was he truly ready to set his pride aside and marry a whore, even with a title?

He decided that while you may be his betrothed, you were no longer his responsibility. If you fought against this match, there was no point in him fighting for it. He was not even sure he truly wanted it anymore. The family certainly outgrew the need for it; the moment Aemond accepted that you truly had found a way out of your cell, he knew another northern alliance may be necessary. Houses Bolton, Mormont, and Glover had bent the knee to Aegon after a mere show of force from Aemond atop Vhagar. While none were quite as large or as powerful as House Stark, they would do well as northern allies.

Aemond chose to remain calm and collected and do his best to forget you and your attitude ever existed. Aegon, however, coped in other ways.

Aegon liked your quick wit. Though all you did was bicker, Aegon couldn’t help but remember his moment of vulnerability with you. You could have walked away, but you comforted him, despite being so adamant about hating him. He was mean to you because you were mean to him and it hurt his feelings, not because he truly did loathe you, despite what he had told you the very last time you two had spoken.

You were defensive, confident, outspoken- all the things Aegon truly wished in the depths of his heart that he could be, but knew deep down he wasn’t. Aegon desperately wanted to appear as confident and cocky, the smartest in the room, but most could see through the facade, including you. He hated how vulnerable you could make him feel. He loved how it felt when you saw that vulnerability, and chose kindness instead of cruelty. You were everything he wanted to be. You were everything he wanted.

Aegon was fueled by rage immediately after learning of your escape. He sent the King’s Guard through the streets of King’s Landing in search of you. He slammed his fists on tables and bellowed toward his brother, demanding to know where Aemond had taken you when he let you free, but Aemond would not confess, lest he leak his own private details.

The men of the King’s Guard were only employed as such due to their friendship with Aegon, and many had not actually seen you, and admittedly were not sure what you looked like.

Aegon, furious and drunk, had also made the mistake of describing you in the clothes they had provided at the time of your imprisonment, the thought that you may have taken the gown off never crossing his mind.

The men of the Guard had asked around a few brothels, but most became distracted and threw away their task in favor of a pretty girl. You were not nervous when you heard the clanging of armor, for you knew that most of these men couldn’t identity you with a name tag.

The King’s Guard was forced, after two days of searching the streets, to report to Aegon that they had no sign of you whatsoever. Aegon considered that you may have taken passage on a ship to Essos, perhaps somewhere further, but doubted that you would so easily forget Winterfell. He thought of flying there, but knew you had no way to get back home. He also thought you had no way of escaping the dungeons, and he had a consistent habit of underestimating you.

It had been nearly a full moon since Aegon and Aemond last saw you. Aemond refused to revoke your betrothal due to his own pride, at least until he could find a suitable alternative.

Aegon thought of you often, but tried to keep the thoughts at bay. He fought to not let it impact how he ruled, but his friends in the King’s Guard most certainly noticed the change in his demeanor.

They convinced him that he needed a proper night out, him and his best mates drowning in cups and whores, leaving their daily lives behind and choosing pleasure over pain for a night. Aegon agreed, knowing he truly needed to blow off steam.

His friends directed him through three brothels before landing on one, one of the men nearly deafening the room from the sound of his armor as he raised his arms and yelled for libations.

A woman brought a round for the men, taking a bow when she noticed The King. Aegon downed the drink with one swallow, slamming the cup down on the table as he said, “alright, let’s find someone.”

The men cheered, throwing their arms around Aegon’s shoulders as they directed him from room to room.

Aegon himself pushed back a curtain and stopped short, the shock of the sight rendering him unable to move.

You were standing tall, nearly naked, a man with curly brown hair knelt on the floor in front of you, his head between your legs and your hands in his hair.

You were used to people interrupting for a moment, in desperate search of an unoccupied room, so you didn’t even turn toward the sound. The man between your legs, however, pulled back and, upon seeing Aegon, knelt fully over on the floor, his hands out in front of him in a deep yoga-like bow.

You watched him in confusion before turning your head to see who he was pointed toward.

You were panting, skin slightly glistening from sweat, a tiny hint of shock that Aegon had never seen before in your eye.

Neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke. You just stood and stared at one another as the rest of the men in the vicinity noticed the tension and hastily cleared out.

Once you two were alone, you insisted on speaking first. “Your Grace,” you mimicked a curtsy, sarcasm coating your words.

Aegon took a deep breath, trying his hardest to collect himself. He was feeling a mixture of emotions: shock at the sight of you still in King’s Landing after nearly a full moon’s cycle, anger at you for escaping and running away, confusion at what you were doing fucking in a pleasure house, and most prominently, he was turned on at the sight of you.

“You’re still in King’s Landing,” was the best he could come up with.

“I’ve been trying to make arrangements back to Winterfell,” you said, picking up your small clothes from the floor and covering yourself as you spoke, “but unfortunately, the easiest route is via dragon, yet only a select few here have dragons, and I didn’t wish for them to know my whereabouts.”

“And now that they do?”

You sighed, finishing clothing your body with your small clothes and a robe as you stood tall once again. “I should hope I can count on their discretion.”

Aegon snickered, “and what makes you think you can? Did you forget what you did?”

“I only had to escape because you imprisoned me. Did you forget that?”

Silence filled the room. Aegon felt a bit bad for imprisoning you, and wasn’t sure where the conversation was headed. He instead changed the subject to what truly peaked his curiosity.

“What are you doing here?” he questioned.

You could lie. You could tell him anything that made even an inkling of sense, but you were living room-by-room in a brothel, no surefire way to get home, two men vying for your hand and only one honest, and you, quite honestly, had nothing to lose.

“I work here,” you shrugged as if the confession meant nothing.

Aegon laughed genuinely. He continued to laugh until he caught your gaze and noticed your features were stoic. “You’re not serious?”

“I know you’ve heard the whispers about me, Aegon, you cannot truly be so shocked.”

“You were going to wed my brother without your maidenhood? Was your plan to play pretend as if it hurt?”

“If you recall, I never had any intention of marrying your brother,” you retorted.

“Is this where he took you?” Aegon pressed further, the questions falling off his tongue the moment they popped into his head, his brain seemingly not able to keep up with the pacing of new questions appearing in his thoughts.

“The details of any time I spent with Aemond are none of your business.”

“They are, aren’t they?” he continued, finally taking a few steps closer to you, “did he take you here to fuck you? Did he want to ensure you could never truly belong to our little nephew?”

“No,” you scoffed. You did not owe him details. “He does not have my maidenhood, nor has he ever had me. I would hope you think higher of me.”

“You think you’re so strong, but I see right through you,” Aegon began, as close to you as he could be without physically touching you, “you and Aemond came here to fuck, and when you ran away, you came back here because it’s the only place you knew of. You were desperate for passage to Winterfell, and you needed coin to afford such a journey, hence the employment here.”

Aegon was confident in his accusation, which is what made it hilarious enough for you to audibly laugh.

“I truly wish you understood how ridiculously incorrect you are,” you said through laughs, your hand coming up to cover your mouth to hopefully mute the sound and cure Aegon of some of his embarrassment.

“Don’t laugh at me,” he spoke.

“You think I fucked your brother?” you continued, your laughter growing at the thought.

“Stop laughing at me,” he said again.

“You are so far off,” you could barely catch your breath, you were nearly leaning over from the intensity of the laugh in your stomach.

“I said don’t laugh at me!” he raised his voice, a hand coming to strike your face.

You immediately stopped, standing up straight in disbelief as your hand instinctively held the side of your face. He had hit you. All bets were off now. You did not care about striking a royal if he struck you first.

You moved to hit him back, but he quickly caught your wrists, anticipating the action. You were caught off guard, unaware he could move so swiftly. He swung your body around, slamming your back against the nearest wall, your wrists in his hands as they pressed against your chest.

You stared at each other in a moment of heat before he crashed his lips to yours. Your body took over your mind as you kissed him back, relishing in the feeling of his body pressed against yours.

All of the arguing, crying, shouting, and vitriol between the two of you had crescendoed up to this very release.

Aegon dropped your wrists and instead found your waist, grabbing the flesh there to pull you even closer to him as your hands found their way to the back of his head, fingers intertwining in his hair. He groaned into the kiss at the feeling, prompting you to pull even harder. Neither of you were gentle people, and now was not the time to try to be.

Aegon pulled one of your legs up to his waist, allowing you to feel his clothed hardness against your core. Aegon used his other hand to, with immense difficulty, untie your robe as he continued to kiss you with a fiery passion.

He only pulled his mouth away from you to push your robe open, allowing him to see your body, covered only by your small clothes. He breathed heavily, head down, gazing at you for longer than you would have guessed before he returned his lips to your neck, sucking a sweet spot just below your earlobe. You whined in response, and the sound drove Aegon mad.

Aegon moved the hand unoccupied with holding your leg up down to your core, rubbing over your small clothes. There was an evident wet spot that brutally reminded Aegon that there had been another man in between your legs just minutes ago. It also didn’t escape his thoughts that the man had longer, darker, curly hair and prominent features, much like Jacaerys.

Consumed in his thoughts, he pulled away from you, and you could tell something was wrong as he felt the wetness.

“Uh uh,” you snapped him out of his thoughts, “that wasn’t there before.”

Aegon nodded in understanding, grateful that you automatically knew what was bothering him, and slightly intimidated by that fact.

Aegon toyed with the waistband of your small clothes before dipping his fingers beneath them, eliciting a small whimper from your lips as he went back to sucking on your neck.

Aegon ran a finger between your folds, collecting the wetness there before slowly inserting a finger into your hole. Despite the ferocity of the situation, Aegon refused to miss an opportunity to hear the sounds you made when he moved excruciatingly slow.

Above all else, Aegon had an irrevocable desire to be needed and wanted. He loved to make his whores beg, even if it wasn’t genuine, because he could convince himself he was needed to satisfy them. He desperately wanted to see you vulnerable and begging, but you were too headstrong. He knew hearing any version of ‘please’ come from your lips would be damn near impossible. Damn near was good enough for him to try.

He watched your face contort as he pushed his finger in and out, curling when he hit a particularly sweet spot in your walls. You were whiny and breathy, head back against the wall, but that wasn’t enough for Aegon. He added another finger, the ring that adorned it leaving a cold sensation with each pump.

He kept his head on your shoulder, but was no longer kissing you, instead opting to rest his cheek there, gazing up at you as he watched what he was doing to you.

When he hit that special spot, your eyebrows creased, and he continued hitting that very spot so long as your face gave away how good it felt.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, your face beginning to turn a slight hint of red from the heat of it all.

“Not so tough now, are you?” he whispered in your ear.

You choked through strangled moans, “I’m still in control of myself,” and you meant it. If you truly wanted this to stop, or if you truly wanted to be more dominant, you knew you could.

“Doesn’t seem as such,” he replied, fucking you even faster with his fingers and giving himself a small, prideful smile.

He was moving in and out fast now, sounds of your wetness filling the empty space as you braved yourself against his shoulders. You were becoming lost in the pleasure, but you were too stubborn not to have the last word. “You think- fuck- you think I’m not?”

You pulled his hand away from you. It was mostly because you didn’t want to come quite yet, but you were happy to let him believe it was entirely for a show of power. Aegon was surprised, having felt your walls begin to squeeze his fingers just moments before.

You took his moment of surprise as an opportunity to grab his wrist and lead him over to the bed, pushing on his shoulders until he fell backward, the backs of his legs hitting the bed frame and dangling off the bed as he laid.

You considered pleasuring him briefly, and you could see he was hard beneath his breeches as he looked at you expectantly.

You untied and tugged at his breeches, pulling them down until he was only in his small clothes. You then knelt down in between his legs as he propped himself up on his elbows to watch you pull his small clothes down, place a teasing kiss on his inner thigh, and then stand up as if you had no intention of touching his most needy area.

Aegon stared at you, evidently disappointed at the loss of contact.

“Uh uh uh, you haven’t earned that. You don’t deserve it,” you spoke in reference to giving him the oral pleasure he expected.

Aegon tried to snap back at you in protest, but you caught his lips with your own, climbing atop him and straddling his hips. The friction of your clothed heat on his bare length was driving him crazy. He leaned forward to deepen the kiss, gripping your hips as he began to grind up against you, desperate for some kind of contact. He whined into the kiss as he did so, and despite your better judgement, you let him use your body for the moment.

When you had enough of him getting what he wanted, you pushed his shoulders until he was pressed back against the mattress again.

You took his cock in your hand, giving it a few strokes before you moved your small clothes to the side, beginning to sink down on his length.

He threw his head back in pleasure, but looked back up at you when you pulled away from him. You maintained eye contact as you began to sink down again, and Aegon took the hint, locking eyes with you as you allowed him to bottom out inside of you.

You sat atop of him for all too long without moving.

“You gonna move?” he asked, desperate.

“Not unless you ask me to.”

Both you and Aegon were in a power play now. It was turning you on even more.

“Should be the other way around,” he breathed out, erratic and heavy.

“I could sit here all day.”

Aegon would never admit it, but he enjoyed it when he didn’t have to be in control, and he was only more excited by your dominance.

He sat upwards, his cock shifting within you as his face became level with your breasts. He used one hand to free one of your breasts from the confines of your small clothes, running a finger across your nipple before encapsulating it in his mouth.

The heighten mood calmed, the act of Aegon’s mouth on your breasts causing the fiery lust to shift to pure intimacy.

Aegon sucked at one breast while the hand that wasn’t holding on to your back moved to fondle the other breast. His tongue swiped over your nipple in between sucks, his eyes closing as he lost himself in you. He swiftly removed your remaining small clothes over your head before returning to his previous position, praising your chest with his hands and mouth.

He only pulled away when you tugged at his top, the removal leaving you both fully naked in front of one another.

You moved a hand to the back of his head, gently stroking the hair there as he sucked. His eyes fluttered open and he looked up at you, never detaching from you, lightly moaning into your breast as you made eye contact.

You threw your head back and whimpered, your sighs driving Aegon crazy. Your position was so intimate, his cock inside of you as he sucked your breasts, and watching your pleasure from his mouth on your nipple was nearly enough to make Aegon come.

Aegon tested the waters of your movement, moving his hands to grip your hips and push you upward, prompting you to move slightly.

You allowed his efforts to work, very gently grinding your hips against him and pushing yourself up enough to feel pleasure, but not enough to move your breasts too far away from Aegon’s face.

He noticed, and he didn’t like it. He detached from your nipple, his chin resting on your chest right between your breasts. “Don’t hold back,” he demanded.

“I don’t take orders from you.”

You smiled so that he knew you were still playing with him, not genuinely mad. You figured he would continue this back and forth game, but instead, his vulnerability showed through. “Please.”

He was looking up at you through hooded eyes as your hips moved back and forth against him, his gaze glassy and desperate. He was prepared to beg.

“Please what?” you asked, teasing him further.

“Please don’t hold back. Please, I need you to not hold back. I need you.”

His pleading was enough for you. You began to lift your hips higher, your knees bending with each drop of your hips. Aegon reattached his lips to your breasts, challenging himself to hold on with his mouth as they began to bounce.

Aegon couldn’t help himself, he started to thrust up into you as much as he could in his upright position. It wasn’t much, but with the combination of you riding him, the movement was enough to make you sweat.

You held Aegon’s head against your breasts, your fingers intertwining themselves through the strands of his hair, lightly pulling when he gave a small bite to the flesh of your breasts.

He looked up at you and smiled. You thought the moment would be brief, but instead of immediately continuing his demonstrations, he kept watching you as you rode him.

You knew what he wanted. He wanted to see what he was doing to you, he wanted to be the reason for your pleasure- he wanted to feel needed. It’s why he was moving so slowly with his thrusts: you knew he wanted you to ask for more.

You leaned down and kissed Aegon, the kiss more intimate and personal than previously. You pushed him slightly as you leaned forward, allowing him to lay down as you lay on top of him, the position making it much easier for him to rock upward into you.

Instead, he stopped moving.

You flattened your palms against the bed on either side of Aegon’s head. “Give up already?” you teased.

“I’m not moving until you beg me.”

You scoffed. “I could just get up, Aegon.”

“Don’t,” he protested, still needy, “I wouldn’t believe you truly wanted to, if you did.”

“Aegon, move,” you said, needy yourself, soaking wet and much too ready to be fucked hard.

“Beg me.”

“Do you truly think me-“

“Beg me,” he said, his tone growing dark.

“You don’t scare me.”

Aegon fisted a hand in your hair, pulling your head backward as he placed a kiss on your neck, biting down hard on the skin. You hissed at the pain. “I said beg me.”

You decided to give in, but not quite how he anticipated. “Do that again,” you said.

Aegon bit down on your neck again, sucking on the now-bruised skin to soothe the pain right after. “That’s not enough.”

You sighed. “I don’t beg anyone for anything.”

Aegon’s hand harshly slapped your ass, jolting you upward in surprise, causing you to move on his cock. He grabbed your jaw in his hands, forcefully positioning your head so you were looking directly at him. “Fucking beg me.”

His tone was too much for you. You didn’t want to completely break your walls down, but it was too hot. You wanted him bad. You wanted to give in.

“I need you to fuck me Aegon,” you whined, “I want you to fuck me. Please.”

Aegon growled and kissed you hard, one hand moving to press down on the small of your back as he lifted and dropped his hips.

“F-fuck,” you moaned, the consistency of his strokes a brand new feeling, and so, so good.

Aegon kissed you to swallow your moans. You bit gently on his bottom lip, pulling slightly as you looked into his eyes, the feeling causing his eyes to blow out with lust.

He began to fuck you ruthlessly, moving in and out of you as fast as he possibly could, your back instinctively trying to straighten in an effort to brace yourself, but Aegon’s hand was pressing down too much on your back to keep you in place.

He grabbed both of your wrists, swiftly moving them behind your back as he held both with one hand, the other gripping the flesh of your ass to help move you against his sharp, vicious thrusts.

You could wriggle out of his grasp, or even purely strengthen yourself out of it, but you didn’t want to. It all felt too good, and you relished in the feeling of men taking control of you in bed. It was rare the men earned it, and right now, it felt right.

Your body was rocking back and forth against Aegon, and you were no longer able to control any way that your body was moving. You were completely at Aegon’s discretion. You contemplated if it was smart to trust him with your body, but you could tell he needed your body just as much as you needed his.

His hips were snapping against yours at a violent rate, his grip on your ass almost certainly preparing to leave a bruise.

“A- Aeg-“ you started, the words losing themselves on your tongue.

“Fuck, yes, say my name,” he begged.

“Ae- Aegon!” you cried out, nearly squealing.

“Sounds so good when you say it,” he spoke through erratic, hectic breaths, his forehead glistening with sweat as he used you to get himself off, fucking his cock in and out of you as fast as he could.

“Shit, Aegon, I- I can’t-“

Aegon threw his head back, the mere idea of you nearly coming causing his cock to twitch. He couldn’t wait to know how good your walls squeezing against him would feel.

He kept his head back against the bed, using the pressure to anchor himself as he tried to move faster and faster, if it was even possible.

You took the opportunity to kiss his neck, sucking a sweet spot just below his earlobe.

“Fuck,” he moaned, the intensity of the sex mixed with the intimacy of your kisses causing him to worry that he would come first if you didn’t come momentarily.

“Need- need you to come,” he begged, “wanna feel you first.”

“I’m gonna,” you responded, his neediness pushing you closer and closer to the edge as you squeezed his cock like a vice.

Your high crashed over you, your legs shaking from the intensity of your orgasm.

Aegon kept up his ruthless pace, chasing his own high. The feeling of your orgasm mixed with the feeling of your legs shaking around his hips was too much for him, his final few thrusts hard enough to bruise your skin as he shot his seed inside of you.

His cock twitched as his body relaxed against the bed.

You used all of your strength to sit up and move one leg upward, swinging yourself off of his lap and collapsing on your back next to him.

“Aegon, did you just- inside of-“

“We have remedies, don’t worry. I’m sorry, you just felt too good.”

You both laid in silence for a moment, breathing and energy recovering from the ferocity of the sex as you both thought of what you had just done.

“I can’t return to the Red Keep,” you said, breaking the silence, your thoughts consuming you as you almost couldn’t help yourself but ruin the moment.

“I have no intention of forcing you to,” Aegon replied.

“You would allow yourself to take your leave as if you did not see me here today?” you clarified.

“I do not wish for Aemond to experience what I have just,” said Aegon, “if he knows of where you reside, he will continue to force your hand.“

“Was such a match not your idea?”

“It was,” he admitted, “but it is no longer necessary. I am acquainted with you now, and things are-“ his voice trailed off, and he was searching for the correct word, “different.”

“How so?”

Aegon turned to look at you, your eyes locked together momentarily before Aegon sat upward. “I must return,” was all he said before collecting his clothes and exiting the room.

────── ☾ ──────

tags: @torchbearerkyle @dracaryxzs @hangmanscoming @callsignwidow @velvetcrowbarcherry @kravitzwhore @darlingisntit @not-neverland06 @albionfay @cluz1babe @flusteredmoonn @sab-falco @ajanauia

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Easy Money

Derek Danforth x AFAB!Reader

Summery: Minimum wage is a joke these days and we've all gotta make rent somehow. And who knew blonds could be so fun?

Tags: AFAB/Female pronouns reader, no use of y/n, voyeurism, sex worker!Reader, drug use (marijuana), sex while high, drinking, cursing, bisexual Reader, fetish party, reader plays with several people, tempature play/improper use of ice cubes, sex toys, possessive!Derek, dick piercing (I will not debate this,) face fucking, breast play, oral sex (male recieving), thigh riding, cock warming, cowgirl and doggy position, praising, pet names, edging, rough sex, spanking, vaginal fingering, degradation, dumbification if you squint, dacrophillia. There is no plot. This is just porn. Straight up.

Notes: Y'all begged to me, now y'all begging to your man. You're welcome. Also, please consume substances responsibly. Do NOT assume an edible ain't shit. They ALWAYS are.

                       •°○《▪︎☆▪︎》○°•

The gig is simple. Stand there and look pretty.

The woman who had hired all of us was very clear on the rules; serve drinks, talk to the men, don't have a brain, and if Derek Danforth gives you an ounce of attention, you return it. Sex was optional, but they pay less if you do not engage.

I was just there for the check. Times are hard, but this dress is easy to fit into... if I don't breathe. Jesus, it's tight.

The architecture of the mansion is beautiful. Really, if I wasn't working this party I'd be studying every room for an hour each. High ceilings, detailed woodwork. It's a shame it's all bathed in purple blacklights with everyone wearing neon glowsticks.

The people in attendance are in various states of undress. Some wear their clothes fully, some wear nothing at all. Most are in various states of undress, including the waitresses.

All of our dresses are the same- tight, black, and an easily detachable top with nipple pasties underneath in the shape of blacklight activated glow stars. It's tacky, but the girls who have removed their tops are getting way more tips. And with the debt I'm in, plus the security making absolute sure no camera are recording anything, what's the harm in if I join them? It's more money for me.

The various trays contain different things. Some drinks or shots, others different foods. Then there's the drugs. Oh yes. Cocaine, pills, capped needles on at least one tray I noticed. On mine are several marijuana joints, blunts and even edibles. Our employer had told us we were allowed to indulge, but any damages caused due to our inebriation would come out of our check.

Edibles usually aren't shit for me, so I feel quite safe.

A strawberry cube is tucked safely under my tongue, taking a long while to melt. I can feel my muscles relaxing, making me smile more to the guests as I work my way through the crowd. The beginning gentle buzz helps me to forget the way these people leer at me, some even reaching over to touch me before retracting their hands quickly.

"These guests are quite used to casual sex," the woman had informed us. "There's a code here. You'll each have a pendant around your neck. Depending on the color you choose it will inform them of your preference. Red is for looking only, green means you're okay with sexual touch. It's up to your verbal communication if that touch leads to penetration."

The party was tacky, but at least consent was key.

My color currently is red. It will take more of this edible for anything to change. And currently I see no one making the trouble worth it, anyways.

Right now, anyways.

A man with bright, blond tipped hair and a loud outfit works his way through the crowd. Laughing and speaking with some, taking in the different women serving different items. There's a confident swagger in his walk, one that normally I would scoff at when sober. But with the melting cube quickly joining my bloodstream, I simply stare curiously. It's unintentional, honestly. But he takes notice, narrowing his eyes in reciprocated curiosity before making his way over.

"You're new," he says. I offer him the tray.

"I don't know what you mean," I say politely. He picks up a large blunt, taking out his own lighter instead of using one of the complementary ones on the tray. He takes a long pull, shoving the item back into his snakeskin jacket pocket that doesn't match his zebra print, silk looking button up with black leather pants.

"The other girls have been working here for awhile. Who brought you here?" He asks after taking a long pull, holding it.

"Riley," I answer. He nods, exhaling.

"She's worked here a couple years. You two close?" He asks.

Not particularly. "We're friends," I answer. He smiles a bit, taking another hit.

"You like the party?" He asks.

"I like the lighting," I answer. "And I can't say no to free edibles."

"You take some?" He asks. In answer I scoop the edible onto my tongue and stick it out for him to see. "Good girl, that shit will make you relaxed."

"How much is it?" I ask curiously. Can't be too much, surely.

"Told my guys to pick up 1000mgs," he answers, taking another hit.

... what?

My confusion must be obvious.

"You not used to that?" He chuckles, leaning against the wall next to me.

"I induldge regularly, just... lower amounts," I answer. He exhales, laughing.

"You'll have fun then. Especially if you change your color to green, but that's completely up to you," he says. There's a moment of silence between us before I speak up.

"Nice outfit," I say. He raises a brow at me.

"Yeah?" He asks, scanning me up and down. "I think I prefer yours."

"It matches better, that's for sure," I say. He laughs, then sticks out his hand, his smile confident.

"I'm Derek, by the way."

"Ah," I say. Derek.

Derek!

"Nice to meet you, Mister Danforth," I say, accepting his hand. It's warm and large, strong against mine.

"I don't want to hear Mister out of you unless you change colors, pretty girl," he says, squeezing my hand. I feel myself smiling, heart fluttering a little.

"And what would happen if I did change it, Mister?" I ask politely. His grin widens.

"Well, with the way you look already I'd say people would have a fun time with you," he says, stepping closer. "I wouldn't mind a taste myself. I like my girls warmed up, though."

"Warmed up?" I ask, raising my brow.

"I'll tell you what," he says. "You're welcome to leave your tray anywhere, as I'm sure they've told you. You can change your color to green, enjoy your edible and just let the crowd guide you to me. I promise they will." His eyes roam over me, taking me in with a hungry gaze, his mind distracted by obvious thoughts. I wonder how well his shoulders would hold me.

Shit. He's right, this is strong. The herbal smell on his breath is inviting, and I'm already leaning in. Plus, his outfit is beginning to make visually stimulating sense.

"Isn't it polite for a host to show his guest around?" I ask, batting my lashes. I can feel my eyes drying out, my cheeks buzzing and my body beginning to feel the bass of the music just a little bit more than I was a second ago.

"It is, pretty girl," Derek says, taking another hit. "But you're not a guest, are you?"

No, I'm not. I begin to pull away when his hand catches my pendant.

"You want me to get that for you?" He asks, exhaling through his nose.

"Yes sir," I answer with a smile, placing my tray carefully on the table beside me.

"Good girl," he praises, changing the color with a quick flick of his thumb. "You'll fit in just fine."

Before I can respond, his lips attach to my neck, sucking earnestly and harshly. I can't help the small cry that escapes me, my hand finding his hair and burying itself in it as he pins me against the wall.

His hand cups my breast, kneeding it carefully as he creates patterns across my skin with his mouth, licking at the newly bruised flesh before moving on to a new, unmarked area. He holds his blunt up for me, trying to keep it still enough to allow me to take a hit. I accept, holding his hand steady by the wrist, inhaling as much as I can.

His lips detach from my throat, his eyes red and glazed over as his lips graze mine.

"Care to share?" He asks lowly, his fingers still tweaking at my nipple. I'm vaguely aware that my pasties have been removed, where they've gone to I've no clue.

Obediently, I blow the smoke into Derek's mouth, his hand leaving my breast to cup my jaw, holding my mouth open with his large thumb. Once I'm done he takes his own hit, holding it for a moment before pressing his lips against mine, sealing them together before blowing the smoke into my mouth as well. His tongue slides against mine, tasting of whiskey and smoke. I don't hate the way it blends with the sweet, surgery strawberry cube still melting under my tongue.

He pulls away slightly, breathing heavily.

"You taste sweet," he says. "Mind if I try some?"

"Go ahead," I answer. I expect him to take an edible from the tray, but instead he leans in again, his tongue searching for the half melted candy. He finds it under my tongue, slipping it onto his and then pulling away, smiling in satisfaction.

"Oh," I breathe, batting my lashes in surprise.

"I'll trade you," he says, pressing a small kiss to my cheek as he passes the blunt to me. "Just let the crowd lead you, sweet girl. I'll see you in a bit."

Before I can even think of a response, he slips amongst the crowd, gone in the blink of a hazy eye.

Alright. This is fine. Great, actually. I take a hit of the sour tasting blunt and begin walking amongst the crowd.

Derek was right, I am an eye catcher. Or maybe these people aren't particularly picky. But it doesn't take long at all before people are touching me, sliding their hands over my hips as I pass by, stopping me for a moment to press me against their bodies, leaving a mark or three on my skin. The attention makes my mind blank, smiles on my lips as I whisper 'thank you's, the patrons slipping tips into the tight pockets of my skirt as they release me, letting me blend into the crowd once more until someone else catches me.

I should be revolted, I know this. But the people aren't hard to look at, and with as much as I have flowing through my system all I can really think about is how amazing I feel. My joints feel like air is passing straight through them, my head feels light and free of racing thoughts. The lights entrance me, making me easily distractable until a woman guides me gently towards her group, placing me on her lap as she talks with what I'm guessing are work colleagues. Or something. Fuck if I care.

Her hand strokes my back carefully, not speaking to me as I continue hitting my almost burnt out blunt. She glances at me from time to time, smiling sweetly as she watches me.

"Can I have some?" The older woman asks gently. Her lips are painted a dark black, revealing white teeth underneath. Her features are sharp, contoured by heavy makeup. Her hair is shaggy and black, and God, she's... broad. Muscular and looking like she could eat me alive. I wouldn't mind if she tried.

I hand her the last little bit, letting her have what remains as I begin to focus on her hair. It's soft, feeling amazing between my fingers.

"You have anywhere you need to be for the rest of the night?" She asks, her voice deep.

"Derek," I breathe, barely focusing. She and the other women amongst her let out a noise of recognition, some even laughing a little.

"He likes his girls pent up," Another says, nodding. "Says he likes them used, but we all know that's not true."

"Derek likes to go for hours," warns a woman with blue hair that glows in the blacklight. "Hope you have a lot of energy saved up. If he likes you, you won't go home for days."

The woman with black hair is finishing the blunt, flicking away the last little bit and letting it land wherever.

"You mind if we help you?" She asks.

"No," I answer, my hands running over her broad, leather covered shoulders. "I don't mind."

The women aw over me, moving closer and touching different parts of me.

"Focus on my thigh, good girl," says the dark haired one. "Just rock yourself against it and let me know when you're close." She turns to the second woman, nodding her head towards me. "You want to taste her?"

The second woman nods, joining me on her lap and grinding herself against the first woman's other thigh before bending over to wrap her lips around my nipple, moaning as she does.

The third woman, the one with blue hair, simply watches, continuing to talk to the dark haired woman, stroking my back as she does. The first woman seems engaged in the conversation, occasionally sucking on my other breast before responding to the blue haired woman. The second woman is fully engrossed in tasting me, sucking and nipping at my breast eagerly, moaning as she does.

The stimulation feels amazing, my head tilted back as I rock on the dark haired woman's thigh, my body feeling things it never has before. The feeling of two women sliding their tongues across my sensitive nipples, sucking on them at the same time at different paces is almost enough on its own to make me cum. I can feel how wet I am even through my underwear, surely staining the first woman's clothes.

"Shit, Ava. She may not make it to Derek at this point," laughs the blue haired woman. The first woman, Ava, simply smiles, admiring me.

"Should we let you cum, good girl? Or do you want Derek?" She asks, bouncing her leg as she does.

I moan loudly, my mind unable to form a response. This is lovely, just absolutely wonderful. But something tells me that if I waited, if I edged myself like Derek seemed to prefer, then I would be well rewarded.

"Wait," I pant, still rocking my hips against her thigh. The three women groan, laughing a little more as they begin to give me space.

"You think she's good enough for him?" Ava asks the second woman.

"If she's not, he's out of his mind," she says, tearing herself away from my breast and standing to move onto the blue haired woman's lap instead.

Ava guides me off of her before standing tall and admittedly terrifying. She pulls me up gently, taking my hand and leading me through the room. "Follow me, sweet girl," she says. "I'll take you to the main event."

The other two women wave at me, smiling wickedly before turning their focus onto each other. As the drugs begin to hit harder, just a little ways from my peak, I begin to wonder what it is I've really gotten myself into.

A pair of double doors reveal the same dyed blond man on a plush couch, lounging lazily as he speaks to a small group of people in the private lounge. Upon seeing me guided into the room, he smiles eagerly, quickly sitting up.

"I told you you'd find me," he says, setting his whiskey glass in front of him on the small, glass table.

I smile warmly at him, trying to keep my balance as I walk around to him.

"You get her all ready for me, Ava?" He asks, gently placing his hands on my hips and guiding me to sit on his lap, my back pressed against his chest.

"I did," the woman says, joining us. "She's pretty pent up."

"Did she get you pent up, pretty girl?" Derek asks, laughing softly. I can feel the blush in my cheeks, my eyes barely able to stay open as I lean my head back onto his shoulder.

"Feel her if you don't believe me," Ava offers. Derek obliges, dipping his hand between my thighs, pushing my thin panties to the side.

"Fuck," he groans. "You weren't kidding."

Derek guides my legs to spread open, one hand keeping me open for everyone to watch as his other hand explores my vulva.

"Don't worry about everyone else," he whispers in my ear. "We're all just here for a good time. Right, pretty girl?"

I nod, moaning as his finger swirls around my clit. He continues speaking to his friends, drinking casually as his hand toys with me.

"You want some?" He asks, offering me the glass. I shake my head. I'm fucked up enough.

"Water?" He asks. At that I nod, and with the quick snap of his fingers it only takes a blink before he's holding a water in front of me, complete with ice cubes inside.

"Go ahead," he says. "Take a drink."

I obediently lean forward, placing my bottom lip on the edge as Derek tips the water into my mouth. It's soothing at first, my body relishing the cold rush it gives me. Derek's hand glides up and down my folds, teasing my entrance.

"You like the cold?" Derek asks. I try to respond, forgetting the glass in front of me. The water spills down onto my body, freezing and making me cry out in shock at the sudden sensation.

Derek and his friends laugh, his lips pressing soothing kisses along my shoulder blade.

"I'm sorry, were you not ready for that?" He asks sweetly, smiling at me. I shake my head. He places the glass on the table in front of us, collecting a couple of ice cubes before leaning back and adjusting me to face him.

"Let's get you prepped then, yeah?" He asks, popping one into his mouth and chewing.

My eyes widen, mouth opening in question just before Derek wraps his own lips around my nipples, sucking gently and swirling the quickly chewed cube around the hard bud.

"Fuck!" I cry, leaning backwards. Ava catches me, stroking my hair as she watches.

"I knew he'd like you," Ava says in my ear. "He likes breaking in the new girls personally."

Derek's fingers tease my entrance, threatening to dip in while he sucks on my breast, moaning around the cold flesh. He swirls his spit around, rubbing my clit with his thumb.

"You taste amazing," he moans, his breath cold. "Love to taste more."

I moan happily, spreading my legs more and bucking against his hand.

"Take me," I moan. "Do whatever you want."

"Jesus, she's excited," he laughs. "How long has it been, sweet girl?"

Too long. Much too long.

It must be obvious based on the way he trails lower, kissing and sucking on my skin as he begins to slip my skirt and underwear off of my lower body.

"Is this okay?" He asks, looking up at me expectantly. I nod eagerly, rolling my hips towards him impatiently.

"I don't think she likes teasing, Derek," Ava comments.

"No?" He laughs. "Do you like teasing, sweet girl?"

I shake my head slightly, whining. He and Ava laugh, Derek placing a kiss on my stomach.

"Well, I don't want to go too fast, new girl," he says. "Could break you, you know."

"No you won't," I whine. Derek sucks sharply on the spot, leaving a dark mark.

"Gonna have to teach her a thing or two, aren't I, Ava?" He asks. "You know where that toy is?"

"What toy?" I ask.

"Don't you worry about a thing, pretty girl," Derek instructs. "I'm gonna take care of everything for you now. Just relax."

Ava removes herself from the couch, disappearing to look for something. As I'm distracted, Derek slips an ice cube into my warm cunt.

"Ah!" I cry out sharply, arching my back as my hips roll automatically, unsure what to do to relieve myself. "It's cold."

Derek simply laughs, sitting up straight and dragging me onto his thick thigh.

"It's supposed to be," he says mockingly. "That'll work in the meantime while we wait for Ava to come back."

I start to grind against his thigh, my cunt clenching around the cold cube rapidly as I feel the melting water begin to drip out of me. Derek pulls my hair, tutting his tongue against his teeth as he shakes his head.

"Stay still, that's an order," he says sharply. Someone offers him a cigarette, which he takes with no hesitation. When someone offers me one as well, he waves them away.

"She's had enough," he says. He keeps his hand in my hair, keeping a close eye on me to make sure I don't move.

"You enjoying the party?" He asks me.

"Yes," I say.

"Yes what?" He asks, taking a drag.

"Yes, sir?" I say. He smiles.

"Good. You're smart." He turns his attention to a man asking about some account, rambling something about bitcoin and such. Ugh. I don't know why I'm surprised.

I keep my hands clasped behind my back, pressing my chest forward to allow him easy access. This pleases him, his smile growing genuine whenever he glances my way. Once he bounces his leg, making me squirm for more. At that, he pulls my hair, shaming me for breaking the rule.

"Behave," he commands sharply. A few minutes later, however, he bounces his leg again. This time he doesn't stop.

The jolting motion sends shockwaves through my system, the drugs making me weak and stupid. He's not watching me, seeming involved in the conversation, and this ice cube is nearly melted inside of my cunt, dripping more and more. I can't handle this.

I shift my hips subtly, testing the waters. He doesn't notice, and if he does he doesn't care. I do it again, slightly harder against his thigh. Derek is talking about some party in Havana, laughing about a different conquest. I work slowly, making sure he won't turn his eye onto me. Finally, after a few minutes of grinding against him, I feel confident enough to begin a slow, steady rhythm against his thigh, his leg still bouncing against me.

My body feels amazing. Light, stimulation pounding throughout me, it only takes a few minutes before I'm on edge again, my pussy making his thigh slick and easy to grind against as I ride him. My cheeks burn with heat, my eyes eyes fluttering shut as I lose myself in the rhythm, fully focused on how hard his leg is bouncing. The vibrations go right to my clit, making my pussy seize around nothing now as my pulsing heat had caused the cube to disappear. I begin to grind faster and faster, desperate to cum. I don't realize I've begun panting, moaning as I ride him, and the attention in the room has turned towards me in full with Derek rubbing his hand up and down my back slowly, grazing his nails across the skin of my back as he watches with a look that makes him look like the cat who ate the canary.

"You close, sweet girl?" He asks me. My blush deepens, my eyes fluttering open in realization. Derek simply quirks a brow at me, exhaling his smoke into my face as he waits for my answer. My hips stutter, hesitating to continue.

"Don't get shy," Derek scolds. "You were just fine fucking yourself a moment ago. What's a few dozen people watching you?" He asks.

People are chuckling now, making small comments of encouragement.

"You looked so pretty, baby. Fucking yourself stupid on my thigh," he says as his lips tease my tits. "Didn't she look pretty, everyone?" He asks the room, glancing around at the people who respond with affirmations.

I lean forward, trying to hide my face in the crook of his neck. What had I been doing? In front of this entire room? I'd just needed a few quick bucks, that's all this was supposed to be. This was exponentially further than I'd ever planned.

Derek tuts, pulling me away from my hiding place. "Oh no, you wanted to cum. I'm going to make sure you cum," he chides. "I wonder how you'd feel on my cock. Would you like that? You'd feel better if you were on my cock, wouldn't you?"

I nod shyly, my eyes avoiding everyone but Derek. He glances around the room once more, noises of encouragement growing louder.

"You wanna get me ready, baby?" He asks encouragingly, taking one of my hands from behind my back and guiding it to his stiff, clothed cock.

I gasp lightly, squeezing it and grazing my thumb up and down his dick covered by the tight, leather material.

"You look big," I mutter.

"Feel big too," he chuckles. "Go on, try it out. I think you'll like it."

I think I will.

It's hard to see in the odd lighting, so my hands struggle with the hidden zipper.

"Try getting closer," Derek teases, his breath warm against my ear. "It doesn't bite like I do." To emphasize his point, he sinks his teeth into my neck, harsh and quick before releasing me, leaning back in his chair. The sudden movement makes me dizzy, my mind reeling as I automatically sink to my knees in front of the plush, velvet sofa.

Once his pants are opened, he springs out, no underwear confining him. Jesus. He's mostly average, leaning towards the larger side. It's mostly the piercing that surprises me.

"Like it?" He asks. I glance up at him, his grin cocky as he takes a drag from his new cigarette. Hey, man. What happens if I swallow this?

I stammer, opening my mouth and trying to say something.

"You need help?" He asks, wrapping his hand decorated with several rings around his shaft. "Open your mouth again," he commands. I do so without hesitation. His other hand guides my head down, forcing me to swallow it halfway down. I moan in satisfaction, my eyes slowly shutting as I take in the taste of his skin.

"Atta girl. Take a minute if you need to," he says casually. I can smell the thick smoke near my head, his hand stroking my hair gently. Ava must have returned because he's telling someone how warm my mouth is.

"You ready, sweetheart?" He asks. "Wanna show you off for my friends."

Taking a deep breath and opening my eyes once more, I lower myself slowly to his base. He's just long enough that when his piercing collides with my uvula I cough, nearly choking on him. More gentle laughter escapes the crowd, Derek praising me as he begins to thrust into my mouth.

"Just stay there, sweetheart," he says. "I'll do the work."

True to his word, Derek begins pumping his dick in and out of my mouth, whispering something in Ava's ear. I begin taking in the other people around the room, most of them watching us eagerly.

"Watch me, sweetheart," he commands, snapping his fingers and pointing at himself. "You don't have anywhere to look but here."

I obey, keeping my eyes trained on him as he smokes his cigarette which rests between his lips, his jaw gritted as he rolls his hips into my throat, his eyes glazed over in pleasure and who knows what else.

Without warning, someone begins fingering my cunt. A startled moan escapes me, vibrating around Derek's throbbing cock and making him moan, his face confident.

"Don't worry baby, it's just Ava," he says, stroking my hair. "You like Ava, right?"

I moan again, Ava's fingers quick and shallow in my tight pussy.

"Ava certainly likes you. Almost stole you from me, isn't that right?" He asks her, tapping his cherry carelessly onto the floor behind him.

"That's right," her deep voice purrs in my ear. I moan again, my eyes almost fluttering shut from pleasure until Derek grabs my hair, fucking my face roughly to bring my attention back to him.

"Hey now, don't get too happy," he scolds, but he's smiling. "You still like me more, right baby?"

I moan, pressing my tongue to his underside as he slides in and out. He tastes sweet, his jewelry creating an interesting feeling in the back of my throat. Ava withdraws her fingers, quickly replacing them with a vibrating bullet instead.

"Mmph!" I moan, my eyes nearly fluttering shut again. The speed increases, making me drip and writhe my hips against nothing.

"God, she's fun," Derek moans. "Ava, book her for Cabo," he says.

Cabo??

"You like her that much?" Ava laughs. Derek simply glares at her. Is this a thing? Trading girls, fighting over them? What is this?

"Just fucking talk to whoever about it," he spits, his dick quickening in my throat. I'm gagging around him, barely able to catch my breath as I press my hands desperately against his thighs. "Anyone else fuck her tonight?"

"Don't know," Ava shrugs. She brings her face close to mine, her breath hot in my ear. "Did they?"

I moan, trying to shake my head. Derek nods, smiling.

"Perfect," he drawls. The bullet inside of me is driving me insane, enough to keep me on the edge of pleasure but not enough to tip me over. My eyes look up at him, wide and begging, tears beginning to spill from my waterline and streaming down my face.

"You're killing her," Ava scolds him. "Is he being mean?" She asks me. Yes.

"She can take it," Derek says. "You like it a little mean, don't you baby?" He asks, smiling. Yes.

"See?" Derek says. "She's just fine."

Actually, I'm about to hit my peak drug wise, and I can't fucking breathe. But all it does is make me want more, my throat taking him as deep as I can as I moan around him, my tongue moving desperately, eager to swallow his load.

"Think I should cum down her throat?" He asks Ava, his head tilted back in pleasure, cigarette nearly burnt out between his lips.

"Would you like that?" Ava asks, setting the speed of the bullet to max. I scream around Derek's cock, overstimulated and stupid. "I think that's a yes."

"God, you're amazing," he praises. "Such a perfect fucking slut."

Right before he reaches his edge, he pulls me away, admiring the long, thick string of spit that still connects my swollen lips to his cock.

"Look at that," he says. "Should take a picture of that someday."

His hand drags me up by my hair, guiding me to return to his lap. Once I'm straddled across his lap, his fingers delve into my cunt, fucking me quickly as he presses the bullet against my g-spot.

"You like my cock, pretty girl?" He asks.

"Yes," I moan, my voice and throat raw.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent."

His fingers remove the bullet, and he quickly replaces his hand and bullet with his pulsing cock, both of us moaning at the feeling.

"Jesus, fuck," he moans. "You are fucking tight. I can feel everything."

My cunt spasms around him, eager for whatever friction he'll grant me. He stays still, something that's clearly a challenge for him.

"Gonna stay there for awhile," he says. "Wanna make sure you're ready, baby."

My spit on his dick makes for excellent lube, his piercing comfortable against my cervix. His hands run up and down my thighs, squeezing here and there, eventually moving to massage my ass.

"The crowd loves you," he praises, pulling me close to his chest. "Think I love you too."

I'm very high. I'm very horny. I will do whatever this fried hair, cocky ass motherfucker tells me to do.

A waitress walks behind the couch, offering us a tray of joints. Isn't that my job?

"Go ahead, take one," Derek instructs me. I do so, reaching for the lighter on the tray.

"Don't bother, I have one in my pocket. Thank you," he says to the waitress, dismissing her. He reaches into his coat, taking out the lighter before discarding the jacket, leaving him in his zebra printed button up that shows off his chest hair along with a white gold sparkling chain.

He holds the lighter for me, lighting up the joint as I hold it between my lips.

"You're gonna smoke me out, okay angel?" He says, leaning back against the couch, his arms stretched out along the back. I rest one hand against his chest, taking a hit and holding it for a second before leaning forward and blowing it into his mouth.

One of his hands find my hair, pressing my lips against his, his cock twitching inside of me as his tongue slips into my mouth, establishing dominance before allowing me to pull away for another hit. Then another. Then another.

As he inhales the last hit, his hips begin rolling into mine, his voice low as he groans.

"Go on and start riding me, angel," he moans, completely lost in the pleasure. "Show me how you want me."

My hands grasp his shoulders, clinging desperately as I begin to glide up and down his length, his cock twitching against my most sensitive spots with each glide.

"You ever fuck a pussy as good as this?" I ask, watching his jaw shift subtly from side to side as he focuses on my tightness.

"Oh, she speaks now?" He asks, smirking. "Grow a fucken brain, princess?"

His tip slams into my cervix, making me gasp and press my tits into his face. His mouth works quickly, biting and sucking at the tender mounds as I ride him.

"I'm just making conversation," I say. I'm high enough my filter is gone, my brain rotted to the point I'm only focused on my pleasure. He moans against my tit, looking up at me while he buries himself in my body.

"I can't say I have," he says, grinning. "Why, that turn you on?"

Immensely. Not that I'd tell him that.

"Say it," he dares, his cock slamming into me. "Don't hold out on me."

"Maybe I will," I tease, tugging his hair. My hips speed up, riding him hard enough I can feel the couch rocking ever so slightly.

"You're fun," he chuckles. "Say it."

"No," I say, slamming my wet cunt against his base, making him groan loudly.

His teeth sink into my skin, pulling on my nipple to the point I'm on the razors edge of pain and pleasure.

"I don't mind waiting," he says, his tongue flicking against my nipples. "I like causing pain."

His teeth sink in deeper, his fingernails dragging down my back slowly as he slams into me, making me bounce hard enough I can feel it in my stomach.

This is a hell of a paycheck.

"I like it," I say. He chuckles.

"That's not enough," he says.

"I wanna be the best girl you've fucked," I add.

"Mm, need more details." His teeth release my nipple, leaning forward and quickly catching it once more, sucking on the almost raw flesh hard enough it feels like I won't be able to wear a shirt for the next day or two. One of his hands return to my hair, gripping it and pulling it hard enough I can see the people behind us, some of them still watching, some focused on each other, most people switching between the two as they fuck each other.

"Come on, you were just so confident," he laughs against me before returning to his task. My chest burns with want and embarrassment, my eyes glazing over as I give in.

"I wanna make you pussy whipped," I moan. "I wanna glance at something and get it from how desperate you are to get the chance to fuck me."

He chuckles lowly. "I think we'll get along for a while," he says in a satisfied tone, finally releasing my tits from his torture.

"Gonna get me on payroll?" I ask, smiling as I throw my leg onto the back on the couch, giving him better access to fuck me.

"Play your cards right and I'll get my surname on you, pretty girl."

It's an evening of drugs and sex, come morning I'm sure he won't even remember my eye color. But for tonight, can't a bitch dream?

"Go ahead and laugh," he dares. "I get what I want."

"And you want me?"

"Fuck yeah."

He forces me to my side, turning me onto my stomach and hiking my ankles onto his shoulders.

"Jesus!" I cry, feeling his cock bury into me from behind, slamming straight into an overwhelming spot that makes me blind with pleasure.

"Too much," I cry. "Fuck, too much!"

"And that's a problem?" He laughs, abusing me as he smacks my ass, admiring the way my skin reddens.

"Yeah, you're not getting another dick ever again," he decides, his hips chasing after a high that tears screams from my throat. I'm so overstimulated I don't even know if I can cum, my eyes crossed and ass feeling his palm bearing down on the sensitive flesh time and time again, growing more rapid in succession, forcing me to clench his length harder with each new hit.

"Come on, pretty girl," he growls, pressing his chest against my back, his hands keeping my hips pressed against him with no chance to escape. His balls smack against my clit, making me moan in stupidity. "I know you want to."

I cry out, tears streaming down my face, hair stuck to my wet skin as I feel my cunt begin to throb in warning, my stomach clenching as the knot inside me begins to snap, my mind growing fuzzy and static as I pant eagerly.

"Fuck, she's close," Derek moans to someone, small whimpers escaping him as he pumps into me, his teeth digging into my shoulder, sending me over the edge.

Someone's screaming, and I have the vague idea it may be me. I can feel Derek's front soaked in my cum, his dick slamming into me in a way that I just know I'll have a migraine in a few minutes.

"Good girl," he praises. "Fuck. Amazing girl. Taking good dick like a fucking pro."

His cock throbs in me as he cums, deep and right next to my cervix, keeping himself buried as his seed pumps into me, hot and thick.

"I wasn't joking, sweetheart," he mutters in my ear, his voice exhausted. "You and I are going to become good, good friends."

I groan as I feel him slip out, his fingers pushing any cum that drips from my folds back into me, then placing a plug into my aching cunt. His hand grips my hair, pulling me back up to sit on his lap as he accepts a new drink, his cheeks flushed as he tries to regain his breath.

"Let's get something to get your energy back up, hmm?" He asks, pressing a firm kiss on my sweaty forehead.

▪︎《•☆•》▪︎

Cabo doesn't sound all that bad, Danforth. Not bad at all.

Masterlist

I wrote this instead of sleeping. Anyways, see you next time for Mike Schmidt. Stay safe pookies <3

[brucewaynehater101]

In the Time travel AU. Tim doesn't age that much physically, like he only looks two years older (he's been 20 years in the new universe).

The JLA somehow sees the big bad Batman being scolded by this young vigilante. And they get even more shocked because Batman goes "ok, dad".

And that's how the jla thinks Batman and most of the batfam are vampires. How else? Batman could have been bitten on his adulthood while his dad was bitten young.

Oh? I've had quite a few time travel AUs... I'm not sure which one specifically this is for, but I'll just have fun with it ^^

Okay. Tim gets sent back in time to another universe, presumably when he is mid to late twenties, and somehow that fucks over his ability to age. Bruce, in this universe, is younger. There could be a lot of fun to be had at any stage (recently orphaned, constantly in trouble preteen, or about to disappear teenager). Hell, recently returned mid twenties Bruce with "godsdamnit I'm only mid thirties" Tim could be hella funny too.

Alfred and Tim's dynamic would be very interesting as well. Alfred "that kid is my entire life and also my employeer" meeting "I'll give Bruce the love and care he needs even though I'm a stranger to him right now" Tim. Just Alfred being sus as hell about Tim while Tim is just trying to get the man to agree to coparenting.

[silens-oro]

Cut the Loss

Not all fics have adult content, but this blog is 18+. Andrew "Pope" Cody x f!Reader (nicknamed Hawk)

Masterlist Pope Cody Playlist

General Synopsis: Companion piece to my Well Enough Alone series. Baz stops by the shop to have a chat with Hawk. Word Count: 1,185 Content Warning: No warnings other than Hawk really does not care for Baz's bullshit lmao. A/N: please comment & reblog to keep the toaster out of my bathtub :) this series is genuinely my favorite that I'm currently writing.

“Jane, can you please go down the street and get us some coffee? Get whatever you want if you’re hungry.” Hawk handed the company card over to her and Jane took the hint that Hawk needed to handle…whatever this was. 

The 20 year old had been working in Hawk’s shop since she was a sophomore in high school, now home for the summer from college. She knew the faces of the Cody brothers when they decided to darken the nursery’s doorstep and had been given the rundown from Hawk about the Cody Protocol. Jane knew they were trouble and to give them a wide berth whenever they came in, regardless of how attractive they were. Jane didn’t need a warning from Hawk, but she gave her one anyway. Jane was instructed to not interact outside of professionalism if Hawk wasn’t in the building, and to let Hawk know if they gave her any trouble.

Jane took her words to heart which is why she's kept her employment since she was legally allowed to hold a job. Hawk paid her well and was the best employer she could ever dream of, and Jane did not look forward to the day that she would leave when it was time to move on after college.

“What are you doing here?” Hawk cut to the chase. Her voice held a very distinct bite to it that made Baz grin sheepishly. 

“Easy, killer.” He put his hands up, “Can a man not buy his wife flowers?” Hawk looked at Baz skeptically. “Especially when said man’s close friend owns a plant store?”

“Mmhmm…'close friend' is a description I wouldn't have gone with. That being said, what kind of flowers does Cath like, Baz?” Hawk asked with sarcasm clearly drawn out in her tone. She saw through Baz's ruse the second he walked through the door to the shop. Not a single Cody brother comes in without bringing some bullshit in with them. 

“Nice ones?” He shrugged, looking around at the overwhelming selection of greenery. 

“Sure, sure.” Hawk rounded the counter and walked over to a display of peonies and hydrangeas, gesturing with her hands. He didn’t come here for flowers, but she was going to make him pay exponentially for wasting her time.

Baz nodded at her suggestion and followed Hawk as she made her selections. She grabbed different shades of pink bundles of both and some filler flowers and stems before taking them to the workbench to put a bouquet together with Baz hovering just slightly. “Whatever you’re here for, spit it out.” 

“Alright, what are you doing going to Folsom by yourself, Hawk?”

"I don't think that's anyone's business." She spoke over her shoulder, pulling the slicer down with more force than was needed over the stems.

"Why are you seeing Pope?" He asked more pointedly. "You have no business going up there."

“Are you looking for an actual answer or just for me to admit I’ve been going to see Pope?” Hawk raised a brow at Baz. “Because if you wanted an actual answer, I’d say that it is really shitty of you guys to just leave him there to rot and I would also say I wasn’t surprised that you’d do it either. But only if you were looking for an actual answer, of course.” Hawk placed and arranged the flowers on layered sheets of pastel colored paper, bundling everything together. “And if you wanted me to admit that I've been going to see him, I just did. Been making the trip about twice a month for the last three months.” Hawk tied a ribbon around the paper and walked the bouquet over to the register. Baz followed her, letting the counter separate them. He looked down at Hawk like he knew something that she didn't. 

“Didn’t realize you were actually sweet on him.” He shrugged, “I mean, it makes sense. He’s been your shadow since we were kids.” Hawk wasn’t close to Baz at all growing up. Julia was, but Hawk always stayed further back anytime he was around and Pope lingered even further back than Hawk did. But Baz was right -Pope was always there, lingering. It never bothered her before; that's just what Pope did. "Doesn't seem like your type."

Hawk and Julia were hard to separate, and when Hawk moved into the Cody residence Pope seemed to gravitate towards her in his own way. He had his own issues, as all of the Cody kids seemed to have, but his eyes always found Hawk’s in a room full of people -both of them not social in the least bit. It was surprising that nothing had ever happened between the two of them growing up, because there was very visible interest from both Pope and Hawk, but it couldn’t be navigated properly and life ended up taking turns that ultimately severed any kind of ties they had to one another once Julia was detached from the family. 

"And what is my type, Baz?"

"Fucked up, apparently, but now that I do think about it you never really brought anyone around."

“I never brought anyone around because you guys are fucking feral to outsiders. Didn’t realize you gave a shit about my love life, Baz.” Hawk played off his comments like they didn’t mean anything to her, but inside she bristled at them like a pissed off cat at the insinuations. 

“I don’t, but Smurf does. More so about the fact that you didn’t run this by her first.” Hawk scoffed at what this was really about. She leaned back against the bench behind her and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Ah, so you’re here on mommy’s behalf.” Hawk shook her head. “I don’t need Smurf’s permission for anything, Baz. Anything she’s given me I’ve paid back in full, plus interest.” 

“Pope called her last night.” Hawk didn’t ask, but Baz was sure she wanted to know how Smurf found out about her little adventures she’s been taking. “He wanted to get your number and I wish you could’ve seen the look on her face, Hawk.” She chuckled, but it was not mirthful in the least bit. "Because why would Pope want your number? He let that cat out of the bag."

“Again, there's no cat and no bag. You may need to get permission from Smurf to take a piss, but the rest of us normal folk don't.” Hawk rolled her eyes, but still asked what she was itching to know. “Did she give it to him?” Baz's smile grew, but it was nefarious -never genuine.

“She did.” Hawk hummed in response. “There’s got to be more to it than this, Hawk. What are you doing?” She dropped her arms down to her sides and shrugged with a heavy sigh.

“Y’know, Baz, not everyone has ulterior motives for the things they do. Sometimes they just do things because they care about someone. I know it’s not the Cody way, but as it has been pointed out many times over the years, I’m not a Cody and I don’t follow the same fucked up rules of logic that you do.” Hawk sighed, crossing her arms back over her chest defensively. “I care about Pope like I care about Julia. They’re two sides of the same fucked up coin that continuously gets tossed into a gutter. Pope needs support from someone out here who’s looking out for him and expects nothing in return for it. God forbid someone give him a chance to come out slightly better than he went in.” Baz shook his head.

“And what happens when he does get out, Hawk? He wasn't stable before he went in. You don’t get it. Right now he’s kept under lock and key, only coming out on his best behavior to chat with you, but he’s bad and he’s only getting worse. That's what prison does -it makes people worse.” Baz sighed, “I just hope you haven’t given him any expectations that you can’t handle when he eventually gets out.” Hawk's jaw set in a tight clench and Baz knew the conversation was over.

“That’ll be $80.” The set look on Hawk’s face cut through Baz and it successfully stopped his pestering. 

“What, no family discount?” He had the nerve to joke when he pulled a card out of his wallet. 

“Tap your card unless you want me to tack on a family tax.” Hawk leaned forward and dropped her voice. “Tell Cath I said 'hi'.” The machine dinged to let Hawk know that the payment went through and she printed the receipt out, handing it to Baz with the bouquet. He looked down at Hawk, studying her for a moment, then nodded as he took the bouquet from Hawk’s hand. 

“I’m not telling you this to be an asshole, Hawk. I'm trying to look out for you. He’s gotten worse over the years before he got locked up. Smurf’s tried to keep a lid on it, but…”

“Sure, Baz.” Was all Hawk dignified his comment with. Baz nodded, his mouth set like he wanted to say something else, but turned to leave the shop. 

“And Hawk,” Baz turned to look back at her as he opened the door, the little bell ringing overhead, “Smurf wants you over for family dinner tonight. 6:30. It’s not a suggestion.” He said without room for negotiation, holding the door open for Jane who scurried by him with a small ‘thanks’, holding two iced coffees and a paper bag in her hands, before letting the door shut behind him.

please comment and reblog :)

[ace-turned-confused]

shiftin' gear | part two

joel masterlist | series masterlist

pairing: mechanic!joel x f!reader series outline: a slacker of a boyfriend, no job, and now your car needs serious maintenance. heading to the mechanic’s, you’re just expecting him to rid you of your car troubles and move on — you’re certainly not expecting him to change your life chapter summary: with big decisions to make, life throws you a curveball that leads you to joel again word count: 3,2k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied, boyfriend is still useless & also a prick, minor injury & blood, my car knowledge™️, bit of a cry & breakdown sesh, age gap (23/50), smutty thoughts, allusions to f masturbation a/n: thank you @frannyzooey for all the help & encouraging words when reading this over 😚❤️

A month has passed since you first met Joel Miller and you haven’t gone to see him since. You certainly wanted to, but couldn’t bring yourself to go there under the excuse of a lie, or the alternative of admitting you went just because you could. Every time you turn your car’s ignition, a small part of you hopes that another light will flicker on the dashboard, but so far that dream hasn’t been fulfilled.

A month since you met Joel Miller but three months since you and Jake last slept together. The few times you’ve come close, you end up giving him an excuse. At first, you simply couldn’t be bothered to put so much effort in, claiming you were tired. But lately, it’s because you’re thinking of Joel — what it’d look like having his hand dipping into your panties, how his mouth would feel on you, how you’d burn up watching him take himself out his pants.

Which is not ideal when Joel isn’t the one trying to do those things.

Jake’s been putting more pressure on you to see him more regularly again and it’s laborious, draining, constantly needing to put on this cheerful persona around him — you’re never able to mope around or yell or cry just for the sake of it. Truthfully, you’ve been trying to work out for a long time now how to go about breaking up with him.

His reaction to why you had quit your job had catapulted this even further. I’m sure the guy was a deserving candidate. You can’t just quit because someone better than you got the job. Not asking how you felt, not asking for details, simply not caring. He still had the nerve to ask if you were staying the night after that, and that’s when you dropped the conversation. Your employment hadn’t been brought up again.

As brief as it was, you found great comfort in talking to Joel about it — not once did he tell you you’d made a mistake, or that you’d regret it down the line. Just knowing he’s there to listen is more than what you have right now. 

Maybe you should stop by sometime.

-

You have plans to see Jake tonight, and you’re undecided on whether or not you should finally cut ties with him. You’re dressed in a square-neck navy top and black pants that hug your hips and thighs amazingly. Sure, you might end the night by breaking a boy’s heart — though, you’re not sure he’ll feel much emotion other than confusion — but this might be the one thing that’ll keep you feeling good about yourself right now.

Stopping off to get a few small items at the grocery store, the parking lot is mostly empty by the time you walk out. As you reach your car again, you see one of your back tires is almost completely flat. Dropping your bags, you seethe with anger – it feels like one fucking thing after another. 

Taking a breath, you calm yourself down and start unpacking the toolkit from your boot. Car jack, lug wrench, some… other tool that’s used for something — it can’t be that important. You run the process over in your head — it’s just changing a tire, how difficult can it be?

Crouched down on your knees, you’ve partially loosened the lug nuts on the wheel and are busy jacking up your car when your mind drifts off to Joel. He’d probably do this for you and you wouldn’t even argue with him — you couldn’t look away the first time he worked on your car, and you doubt that’ll ever change.

Maybe he’d be surprised you can do this, maybe he’d be impressed. Maybe he’d tell you you’re too pretty to change a tire and get your clothes dirty. You’d laugh it off, but you might just believe him.

You can’t picture Jake saying that to you — you can’t remember the last time he even gave you an honest compliment and meant it, not something backhanded, not something that elevates him higher than you. 

What’s sadder is that it doesn’t upset you anymore.

Changing a tire is easy enough in theory, but this is the first time you’ve actually done it yourself and Jesus Christ it’s more taxing than you anticipated. You’re sweaty, out of breath, and you’re sure you’ve pulled a muscle. In the depths of your daydreaming, you lose your grip on the lug wrench and fall forward, scraping your arm on the tar. It stings to no end and blood starts settling in small pools, the surface of your skin covered in a rough mixture of gravel and bits of tar — the last thing you need, but it’ll have to wait.

Tossing the wrench to the ground, it lands with a startling clank, the sound reverberating through your skull. You’re hauling the old wheel into the boot of your car and see a nail, stuck flush in the tire, still shiny and new. You wish you could feel shiny and new again.

Fuck this. You pull out your phone to text Jake.

You: just got a fucking flat tireYou: not coming anymore, sorry

You don’t wait for him to respond and focus on lowering your car again. You consider your options on where to go after this — not particularly wanting to go home so soon to be grilled by your dad, there is one place you can think of.

-

It’s early evening and Joel’s getting ready to close up shop for the day, tools pushed to the side and cash books up to date. Piling up loose papers, he finds the invoice for the brake sets he used on your car and he can’t help but wonder how you’ve been the past month. Each day that passed he hoped you’d show up — maybe something else was wrong with your car, maybe you’d just come to see him for the sake of it, but you never did. He told himself it was better that way.

He’s been keeping himself busy otherwise, teaching Eddie some tricks of the trade and avoiding Hazel. She’s not a bad woman, but he’s made it clear on plenty of occasions that he is not interested, be it a one-night stand or something serious  — then, of course, he met you.

He hasn’t been on a real date in a lifetime, he’s had casual flings here and there, but he’s felt drawn to you right from the start. He just wants to take care of you, give you the treatment you deserve, which you aren’t getting from your boyfriend. Emotionally, physically — whatever you need, whatever you’ll let him do. A part of him hopes you and this Jake boy will eventually break up and you’ll come running into his own arms instead, as selfish as it may be.

He hears a car stop outside and a door slams shut with a thud, pulling him out of his thoughts. Turning around he sees you dragging yourself in from the street, bloody scrapes on your arm and dirt stains on your pant legs. You look tired, rattled.

“Joel? Please can you help me?”

-

Joel’s standing alongside your car, hands on his hips, in the same tight coveralls you saw him wearing a month ago.

“You know you could’ve just called sweetheart, I would’ve come to change it for you.”

“I can change a tire.” Previously, the endearment would’ve made your mind go blank, but you’re tired — tired of Jake, tired of life’s bullshit, tired of everything, and it comes out much harsher than you intended.

Joel doesn’t seem to notice. If he does, he doesn’t comment. He bends down to inspect it and a small part of you hopes he’s impressed by your efforts.

“I can see that, you did a good job of it too.” He tries twisting a lug nut and it doesn’t shift. “Who taught you how to do this?”

“Common sense? It’s not that complicated.”

“You didn’t wanna call your dad or that boyfriend of yours to come and help?”

“My dad would tell me I’m doing it wrong and I’d tell Jake he was doing it wrong. No thanks.”

You stand, arms folded across your chest and give him a tight smile, which fades as fast as it appears. Usually you’d revel in the banter between you, but tonight you can’t find it in yourself to let go.

“Well, I won’t keep you long. I’ll put a new tire on here for you and you’ll be good to go on.”

Your phone rings before you can respond — you tilt the screen and can see it’s Jake. You let out a bitter sigh, not in the mood for the insensitivity and all-round lack of respect you’re bound to get from him. You don’t excuse yourself when you answer, beyond caring what Joel may hear from either of you.

“Yes?”

“Why didn’t you call me, I could’ve come to help.”

“Says the guy who needed the manual to find the lever for the fucking fuel cap.”

“Well, I could’ve fetched you or called someone else.”

“It’s fine, it’s done. I’m getting a new tire fitted anyways, I’m at the mechanic’s right now.”

“Alright, whatever, but it’s not too late — you can still come over, stay the night maybe?”

“I said I’m not coming — my clothes are filthy, I’ve got muscle cramps where I didn’t know I fucking had muscles, and I’m not in the mood Jake. Not tonight.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Joel stills, just for a moment, like that was the last thing he expected to hear from you. You swear you can see his ears redden and you wish you could see the expression on his face.

“Thought you’d have changed your mind by now but okay, I could come over to…”

“I said no. I have to go.”

You end the call and cut his goodbyes short, putting your phone on silent and shoving it back into your pocket. Seeing Joel had lifted your spirits ever so slightly, and now that’s all been undone. You’ve held it together all day but you feel tears start to well in your eyes. You blink furiously, trying your hardest to will them away before it’s too late.

-

“Everything alright?”

Joel stands and turns to face you, repeating his question when you don’t respond and sees you staring ahead, tears streaming down your cheeks. As if on instinct, he moves towards you and wraps his arms around you. He feels your body go rigid and begins to pull back — this was a mistake, he should’ve asked — but as fast as he lets you go you’re pulling him back in, your arms now wrapping around his middle.

Standing with your head buried into his chest, your breaths come out in gasps as you try to stop yourself from crying. He can feel your hands are balled into fists and you’re squeezing your arms like he’s the only thing keeping you grounded, like you’re scared he won’t come back if you let go. Joel’s careful not to put his hands where he really shouldn’t, one between your shoulder blades, the other cradling your head. Everything is not alright, but he doesn’t want to overstep, risk pushing you further down into yourself and further away from him.

“Hey, sweetheart, let’s go sit.”

You don’t object as he moves his hand to the small of your back and walks you into the office. He sits you down on the couch, handing you water from the fridge and you’ve gone silent, eyes drawn to the floor, but your tears have somewhat slowed. He notices blotches of dried blood on the bottom of your shirt and gets up to find some bandages and cotton pads — he knows there’s a first-aid kit somewhere around here.

“Just wanna clean your arm up, that okay?”

You nod your head meekly, still avoiding his eyes. He takes your arm in his hands, twisting it to see the scrapes and grazes in their entirety. He wipes your arm down with an alcohol-soaked cotton pad and you pinch your eyes shut, wincing slightly at the inevitable sting. Thankfully your arm just looked worse than it is; he’s able to leave most of it uncovered, only bandaging a small section that looks particularly inflamed.

Placing your arm down in your lap, he’s not sure how to carry on. He can practically hear you thinking, but what exactly is turning over and over in that head of yours he doesn’t know.

“Sorry,” you mumble weakly, angling your head towards him, gaze still downward.

“Sorry for what?”

“This.” You shift your hands around in your lap and start picking at your nails. You slump down on the couch, continuing, “Sorry for crying.”

“Hey, look at me.” Joel turns himself to face you, resting an elbow on the back of the couch. He waits for you to turn and you finally lift yourself to meet his gaze, your eyes red and glassy.

“Don’t apologise for crying, sweetheart. You’re allowed to cry.”

“I’m twenty-three, I should be better at all this by now.”

“Better at what? I’m about to turn fuckin’ fifty and I still cry sometimes.”

You turn away from him again — you furrow your brow and he can tell you’re trying to come up with a reason why that shouldn’t apply to you, why you need to be stronger than anyone else.

“I assume that was your boyfriend on the phone? Sounds like you had grand plans for tonight.”

You screw your face up at that.

“Don’t call him- don’t say that. He had grand plans, I was psyching myself up to break up with him.”

He knew that something wasn’t right between the two of you, but he didn’t realise it would be quite this bad.

“It’s just…” You sigh again, sounding despondent, like all that anger you had earlier has been dissolved, absorbed, or maybe you’ve just become desensitised to it.

“I just don’t understand, how is he so… detached? It’s like he’s from another fuckin’ planet. I can’t tell anymore if he just doesn’t care or if he truly is that self-absorbed.” You lean back and bring your arms up, draping them over your head.

“Was it always like this?” He’s trying his best to tread lightly, but hopes you’ll feel more at ease if you can get some of this off your chest.

“No… at least, I don't think so. Maybe it has been and I was just blinded by the bare minimum. Only now he doesn’t even do that.”

You turn to look at him again, eyes changed from glassy to broken and exhausted. You whisper a thank you, a soft, sad smile on your face and he decides not to push you any further. You’ve shared, and that’s a start — you’ll come to him again in your own time.

“Gonna go finish up that tire of yours, you can stay in here a while if—”

You’re standing before he can get the words out, straightening out your shirt and wiping your tear-stained cheeks with the back of your hand.

“Sounds good, let’s go.”

No longer hysterical as you push past to walk outside, now you just look defeated. He should insist you stay put to be alone, but having just opened up about your insecurities and loveless relationship with Jake, now isn’t the time to defy you. Maybe he can try and bring a smile to your face before you say goodbye.

-

You thought your night might end in tears courtesy of Jake, but this isn’t what you were expecting. You can’t believe you broke down so easily in front of Joel, but maybe deep down you knew he wouldn’t mind, knew he’d be there to console you.

You have to admit, it felt nice to be held, to feel safe in someone's embrace. Your head was spinning — Jake’s an asshole, my arm hurts like a bitch, I’m never gonna get the blood out of this shirt. Then Joel took your arm in his hands and it had your head spinning for entirely different reasons. Feeling his fingertips dig into your skin and his hold around your wrist had you longing to feel those same sensations on the rest of your body.

Joel shook your hand the first day you met and you committed it to memory — firm grip, calloused palm, thick fingers. You replayed it in your mind on countless late nights with your hand between your legs, trying to imagine how different it would feel, how much better it would feel if it were his instead.

Coming outside into fresh air was supposed to calm you down, until Joel carried on replacing the tire and you felt heat settle under your skin, neither from injury nor anger. Muscles flexing under his coveralls, neck tensing and the grunts from the exertion — something else you can commit to memory. You feel your panties dampen and you don’t feel ashamed.

Joel stands when he’s finished fitting the new tire, lifting you out of your fantasy. Thinking back to the last time you saw him, you remember his parting words to you: you’re welcome to come answer the phone for me. You couldn’t tell if he was being polite or actually offering you a job.

“Were you serious about all that answering the phone stuff?” You wring your hands, worried you’re about to make a fool of yourself.

“You wanna work here?” Joel straightens up, the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“I mean, I know my dad would like to see me out of the house and actually doing something. I doubt this would impress him, though.”

Joel cocks his head to the side, hands planted on his hips as he inches towards you and you feel yourself heat up instantly, eyes going wide as embarrassment washes over you.

“Sorry! No offence to you, I just mean- I’m not saying it’s- God I’m really not helping myself.” You snap your eyes shut, hands flying up to cover your face and you wish the world could just swallow you whole.

Joel starts laughing, a quiet, gravelly sound and you open your eyes to glare at him. He raises his eyebrows, a wide smile now across his face.

“No offence taken. Do you really wanna sit here answering the phone? I‘m sure there’ll be some other stuff we can do, too, but not much else beyond that.”

Other stuff we can do. You could certainly think of a few things, that’s for sure.

“Well, something’s better than nothing. And you play nice music, so there’s that.”

He laughs again, shaking his head.

“Maybe you can teach me some car stuff when I’m not answering the phone. And… you’re nice to be around, I guess.” You purse your lips, trying your best to play it off as an innocent compliment. 

“Well alright then, I’ll see you next week sweetheart.” He smiles warmly, eyes just beginning to crinkle around the edges and for the first time today you feel at ease.

Joel saves your number and waves you goodbye as you drive off. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he’s still standing in the road, a smirk plastered on his face and you grin like an idiot. You still have Jake to deal with, and your blood-stained shirt might go straight in the bin, but at least you have working with Joel to look forward to.

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

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